The Inheritance Paradox
Seven (Eugene’s Story)
EUGENE WENT TO WORK after his doctor’s appointment. It was payday and he wanted to be there to collect his pay envelope. Then he headed to the 50s Diner for dinner in hopes that he would see Lynn there.
It’s time to pay the devil.
“I just want to tell Lynn the good news.”
You’ll have a date tomorrow if you travel tonight.
“Yes, yes. Okay. I’ll drive out to that barn I found last week. No one will notice me disappear and then reappear out there.”
You’ll only be gone a second.
Eugene finished his dinner and got in the car.
“Just don’t snatch me while I’m driving. Let me concentrate.”
He found his place to park where he was sure no one would notice him. As soon as he turned off the engine, the disorientation hit him.
“Ah! Why do I always wake up strapped down and head clamped?” Eugene squawked when he awoke.
“A mere precaution. I don’t want you jumping around while I’m downloading your data. Give me a minute and I’ll set you free,” Wells said.
“What does that mean? Downloading data?”
“I told you I installed a very small computer chip in your brain. That chip, under the guidance of Galahad, collects data on your activities, health, and location. He is also the guidance system for your time travel. I need to check the collected data in order to determine if you are ready and capable of work. I extract the data from your computer chip onto my computer,” Wells explained.
“Right. Computers take up entire warehouses. I’m possessed. You’re looking at something the size of a transistor radio,” Eugene said, trying to turn his head for a better look.
“The ever-increasing ephemeralization of the universe, as Bucky termed it. Doing more and more with less and less. You’ll live to see devices this size in nearly everyone’s hand,” Wells said. “Well, you’ll live that long unless you die before then. I still don’t know all the factors that go into that. Your watch should show you if you are approaching your expiration.”
The straps on Eugene released and he stood up from the dentist chair. He’d always hated those things. If Wells had told him to open wide, he’d have been through with this whole adventure. He looked over Wells’s shoulder at the little screen. He didn’t comprehend anything he saw.
“So, you’re cancer free. Your clock adjusted to account for the extra ten minutes you overlapped with your previous timeline. Congratulations. I can’t see any sign of a rift in the space-time continuum. You look fit for your first assignment.”
“Assignment,” Eugene repeated. “This is where I’m supposed to go get some poor girl pregnant. Are you sure this is ethical?”
“No. I’m sure it is necessary. This is a poor time for you to be developing morals,” Wells snapped. “I’ve done my best to select a time and place that won’t be too unfamiliar for your first outing. You’ll be going back just a hundred years in the past, give or take a decade. Galahad will figure the exact temporal coordinates. It is in America, so English is the dominant spoken language, though you might hear German, Spanish, Irish, and an odd mix of others. There is not much in the way of paper money, so I’ve provided you with coinage that will be accepted. Just don’t show too much of it all at once. Ten dollars goes a long way.”
“I guess that’s a relief. How am I supposed to meet and woo a woman there?” Eugene asked. Wells handed him some clothes and motioned to a dressing room where Eugene stripped everything and dressed in the slightly strange clothes.
“Prostitution is common in this place and time. My advice is to find a house of ill-repute, if you will, and pay a courtesan for her services. You’ll have enough money to leave her to care for her child. You see, it doesn’t need to be a love affair. You simply need to plant the seed in a willing woman.”
“You make this all sound so transactional. Do you even care who the woman is?”
“Not really. We know the likely ethnicity, the population density, and the migratory path. It’s designed to spread the gene as widely as possible and still concentrate it on where Lynn Dorsey is.”
“Is it necessary for me to remove all my clothes? This union suit is rather scratchy.”
“It will likely be cold. We’re targeting later in the year. And your underwear would be a dead giveaway that you weren’t from that time. That brand hasn’t been invented yet.”
Eugene pulled on the wool socks and one-piece thermal underwear. He glanced in a mirror and noticed the pendant he still wore around his neck.
You shouldn’t wear that.
He’d worn it ever since he’d found out about the high school girl who’d made it for him. He didn’t take it off but tucked it down inside the thermals and kept dressing. Shirt, heavy trousers, vest, sack coat, work boots, leather cap. His John Lennon-style long umbrella mustache and sideburns actually looked pretty natural with this outfit.
It’s the only thing they look good with. You need a barber.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked out to see Wells again.
“Yes. Not bad. You’re just a working stiff at any one of what could be a dozen or more jobs. Galahad will feed you background as you need it. Here is the coin purse. Keep it inside your trousers. Don’t show it around or you’ll get mugged. A meal in a boarding house will cost about forty cents. Obviously, you need to finish your task before your money runs out, or you’ll have to earn some. General manual labor will earn about seventy-five cents a day. A decent working girl should cost about two dollars. Get a young one. You don’t want to risk her being past bearing. Now, check your watch and keep it with you at all times.”
Eugene opened the cover and looked at the strange dial. It made no sense at all.
“I still don’t get it. It doesn’t even have the hours of the day on it.”
“The expiration of my time to travel came as a surprise to me, trapping me in this dimension. This is to prevent the same thing from happening to you. It keeps track of your time—not the time of day, but how much time you have lived over and above your normal life. It shows your real age on this dial. Just now, it doesn’t make much difference because your real age is only ten minutes more than your normal timeline. I expect your adventure to take you a few days this time. You can’t expect a woman to get pregnant the first time you’re with her. That time will be added to your natural age.”
“I talked to my doctor today. I told him I planned to use my new health and life to do something good. It just doesn’t feel like popping in to get a girl pregnant and then leaving is a good thing. If I need to spend fifty years with her, I’ll do it.”
How noble of you.
“One more thing. Here’s a map. I don’t know how specifically Galahad will be able to land you. Remember, unlike having your car in your normal life, we don’t have a target to put you down in. We don’t know when people will be around to see you appear. You’ll need to locate yourself on the map and make your way to the red light district.”
Eugene folded the map and put it in an inside pocket. A prostitute. What right did he have to question the woman’s profession. In a way, he was just a prostitute as well. He settled back in the chair with his knapsack and money. Then the disorientation hit.
Error! Recalculating!
Eugene was pulled out of the water before he was completely submerged.
New route! Now arriving.
He landed near a dock between a pile of lumber and a half-loaded barge.
“I’m soaking wet!”
Not completely. I got you out before you went under.
“I’m supposed to be happy about that? My hat isn’t wet. I need to head toward town and get dried out. I won’t even be able to get a room in this condition.”
I… think you might not need to worry about that.
Eugene stepped out from behind the stack of lumber to see a wall of flames not more than a block away.
“What’s going on?”
There’s a fire.
“Thank you, Mr. Obvious. Where are we?”
The best I can calculate is that you are on the docks near the river—just to your right.
Eugene pulled the slightly soggy map out of his inner pocket. It wasn’t completely wet, saved from the lake water by the layers of clothing, but the water was rapidly soaking through.
“The Lake is on the east side of the city. Facing away from it should be west. The river is here. The area Wells circled is southwest of here. Okay. That way.”
This would be so much easier with GPS.
“What’s that?”
Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.
“Whatever. It didn’t help you avoid the water on the way in.”
The Lakeshore is in a different place here/now!
“All right. I’ve been to Chicago before. That’s it, isn’t it. You dropped us in Chicago right in front of the Great Fire of…”
Eugene opened the watch and worked out MDCCC and seventy-one notches.
“1871,” he breathed. “Everything is going to burn. Couldn’t you have chosen a better time?”
Temporal travel is not really an exact science. I just chose a good time for general weather.
Eugene headed west and in less than a block he was forced to divert farther north. He got to the river and started to work along it. People were standing in the water and floating in small boats off the shore. Much of the waterfront was already burned. The streets were still hot, steam rising from the mud where a futile stand had been made against the fire. The fire had already jumped the river to the north side. On the south side, embers glowed with occasional flames still leaping. People had already fled from the downtown area.
You can thank me for thinking to get you wet before you tried to walk through fire.
“Right. Is anyone still alive here? Hallo! Is anyone still here? Does anyone need help?” Eugene called as he worked his way south and back into the city.
He saw piles of rubble, still smoking, with occasional stone or brick buildings still standing but burned out on the inside. A light rain began to fall, hissing on the ashes. He thought the likelihood of there being anyone still in the area was remote. The chances of finding anyone alive were beginning to fade.
“I can’t tell if we’re in the right place or not,” Eugene muttered. “Street signs are gone. Landmarks are gone. Businesses are gone. Wait. There’s a bank. Trust them to build that out of stone. What kind of a city gets built out of wood?”
One that hasn’t been burned yet.
He stumbled to where a small blaze provided some light and spread out the map on his knees. His clothes were mostly dry from walking through the hot air. It must have been over a hundred degrees when they started along the river.
“This is the area Wells circled on the map.” He looked around the ruins. “Hello? Is anyone here?”
Who do you think is going to be here? Probably someone thinking you’re a looter.
“If anyone is still alive here, they need help. I can’t just go back without trying to find them.”
A real Good Samaritan.
“It’s in my blood.”
Eugene continued to prowl through the burnt-out rubble, staying mostly in the muddy street and calling out to see if anyone was still there. He thought he heard something from behind the burned shell of a hotel.
“Is someone there?” he called.
“Yes! Help!” came a voice from the other side of the rubble. “Help me! Help me!”
Eugene made his way toward where the voice was coming from. It seemed to fade until he called out again.
“Help me find you! Call out so I can figure out where you are,” he yelled.
“In the well-house!” she called. Definitely female. He found a low brick structure that had been sod-covered. Portions of the nearby building had collapsed on top of it. He searched around it, looking for a way in.
“I’m here. I’ll try to get you out. Are you injured?” he called. He found where a door had been blocked by charred timbers.
“A little. I got burned and twisted my ankle.”
“I found the entrance. Damn! The ashes are still hot!”
He reached out to pull the timber away from the entrance, protecting his hand with the map.
That was poorly thought out.
“Now you tell me,” he said as the paper burst into flame.
He shook the paper and slapped it against his trousers, eventually getting the fire out. There was only a charred bit of the map left. He shoved it into his pocket and started kicking at the timber until he got it to move away a little. He pried at the door with a piece of metal railing wrapped in his jacket until there was a gap he could squeeze through. He stumbled down a half-dozen steps into the mist. It was definitely cooler down here, but it would have been pretty steamy during the heat of the fire. In the corner, a woman sat huddled on the floor. She was drenched and there was a partial bucket of water next to her.
“You came for me!” she cried as she struggled to stand.
“Here! Come on and lean on me. Let’s get out of here. It’s a pretty bleak world outside.”
“I fell coming down to get water to fight the fire and hit my head. I don’t think anyone knew I was down here. I thought I’d die.”
“Okay. I’ll carry you out. Up we go now.”
Eugene lifted the woman from the floor and made his way out the remains of the door with her.
“There’s really no place to sit and rest that’s better than where you were,” he said. “I’m Eugene. I’m glad I found you.”
“I’m Sasha. I was trying to help fight the fire, but it got out of hand so fast. When I woke up, I was alone in the well-house and the door was blocked. It was hot to touch. I was lucky it had a sod shelter roof. Only a little of it caved in. It still got really hot, so I dowsed myself with water and just kept splashing it on me while the fire burned.”
“Quick wits,” Eugene said.
You could do worse.
“I need to get you someplace safe. At least this rain is starting to cool the ashes. I’m afraid we’re going to stay wet, though. I just need to figure out which way to go.”
Go west young man. Go west.
“West. Right. That’s back toward the river. There were people down there when I cut through the streets. Maybe we can find shelter for the night. Do you have people we can connect with? I’m not going to just dump you.”
“Thank you for that. I’m from Joliet. I came to the city and got work as a maid in the hotel. Everything I owned—which wasn’t much—was in my room there. It’s all gone now. I can try to walk. You don’t need to carry me.”
“Joliet? Let me think. That’s south and a little west. I don’t think the fire stretched that far,” Eugene mused.
“Not unless it started there. The wind has been strong from that direction for the past two days,” she said.
Eugene set her down and she walked a few steps, leaning against him. It wasn’t working.
“This is not going to work. I need you to ride on my back,” Eugene said.
“Really? Just… Oh, my. I guess I shouldn’t be too concerned about decency just now. Please don’t think ill of me. I’m not a loose woman.”
That’s one way to get between her legs.
“Oh, shut up,” Eugene breathed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not you. Please talk all you want. I was talking to my conscience.”
“Oh. Does it listen?”
“No.”
Eugene continued to struggle forward with his burden. Thankfully, she wasn’t all that big, but both of them were wet and the rain continued. It was still a struggle. The middle of the street was the least obstructed route, though occasionally, they had to make their way around burned-out wagons or buildings that had fallen toward the street.
“So, no relatives or friends here in town? We need to get you to Joliet then,” Eugene said.
“Yes. My Aunt is there. She’ll reward you. Of course, by returning there, I’ll be consenting to her planned marriage for me to my second cousin. She’s very big on the line of inheritance,” she sighed.
“She’s wealthy?”
“No! That’s what’s so silly. She barely has enough to keep the family farm afloat. It should have been mine after my father died, but his sister grabbed hold of it and insisted if I wanted to have it, I needed to marry my cousin.”
You could spend your life here and never return to the twentieth century.
“That’s a disgusting idea.”
“Oh, not that bad. I mean he’s a decent boy and not bad to look at. I don’t think he’s made to be a farmer, though. Not strong, like you are,” she said.
“I don’t think I’m really made to be a farmer either, Sasha,” Eugene responded. “Here’s the river. There are a lot more people here. Let’s find a place we can shelter for the rest of the night.”
“You won’t leave me, will you, Eugene?”
“No. There must be a place along here with families or at least other women.”
They wandered south along the river until they came to a stone bridge. There was space enough under the bridge to join others in a makeshift camp, though none of them seemed to have anything to eat. It was mid-October, but the weather had been unseasonably hot, even before the fire. No one was willing to build a fire under the bridge.
“Men that way and women up there,” a brawny woman with her sleeves rolled up commanded, pointing out where they should go to relieve themselves. It wasn’t likely any of the men sprawled under the bridge would challenge her. Several looked to be old or sickly. This had been as far as they could get before collapsing.
“Can you make it to the latrine okay?” Eugene asked.
“I think so. My ankle feels better for not having walked on it. Thank you for carrying me,” she said.
“Let me know if you need anything. I’ll just step down this way.”
Eugene went downstream to where men were relieving themselves. Sasha went upstream. The river was flowing with sewage. He tripped across a charred tree limb that had fallen into the edge of the water. He managed to cut and break a length of a couple feet from it, about as big around as his arm.
Always need a baseball bat, don’t you?
“Got a better suggestion for protecting ourselves?”
You’re the physical one. I don’t have a body.
“Yeah. Nor apparently a sense of direction. Do you have any idea how to get to Joliet?” Eugene asked his inner guide.
Walk. I don’t have a satellite to get directions from.
“You mean like Sputnik?”
Yes. Only in my age there are thousands of them in orbit. I can plot a position and a route to anywhere in the world with the accuracy of a square meter. Without satellites, I’m blind.
“Well, I no longer have a map, so we’re even.”
I can take you back to Wells.
“Not now. I’m not going to leave that girl out here on her own. She could be raped or murdered. I promised not to leave her. I’ll get her to Joliet first.”
So noble of you.
Eugene returned to the bridge, making noise so she would know he was approaching. She was huddled against a pylon.
“I was afraid you abandoned me,” she whimpered. The stress of the day was catching up with her and Eugene worried she was going into shock.
“I won’t abandon you. I’ll get you to Joliet unless you find a better way.”
“Thank you, Eugene.” He sat nearby. “You could sit closer. My clothes are still wet and I’m cold.”
“Well, my clothes are damp, too, but I suppose our body heat will be some comfort.”
He scooted over next to her and pulled his coat off. He draped it over the two of them. She leaned against him and he put an arm around her. Eventually, they fell asleep.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
