The Chronicles of Louis Brandon, Time Traveler — Chapter 9, Part 3

Hi everyone, the story picks up the morning after Louis and Stella’s famous sex scene. A bit of campfire chat and an ominous figure appears toward the end.

© 2022, Michael William Clark. All rights reserved.

Did you miss part of the story? Find it here!

Sitting around the fire, breakfast consisted of instant black coffee and porridge. One of Louis’ daily delights was milk in his coffee and he felt the loss. But the morning company far surpassed talking to his android. The deadheads turned a blind eye to his and Stella’s creeping out of their tent hours after the others.

“So what you guys doing in Italy anyhow?” Red asked naturally as he stoked the fire.

“Now that you’ve come down from your trip you can tell us straight!” he said with a smile, double entendre fully intended.

“Well,” Louis began. “What I said last night wasn’t  a drug-induced fantasy.”

“We really are from the 23rd century,” Stella said, holding Louis’s hand, still feeling warm inside from before.

“Okay,” Sondra said, “assuming you really are from the 23rd century, how did you get here?”

“Why do I always get that question?” Louis said, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Because it’s a logical one?” Sondra replied.

“Right, well—”

“Look,” Stella cut Louis off. “If you want proof, take a look at this,” she said, pulling out a chrono from her pocket. “My father gave me this. It’s a chronometer. Check how we measure time.”

The deadheads gathered around to look at the device. For all intents and purposes, it looked like an oval-shaped piece of silver—nothing more, nothing less.

“So?” Red asked.

“Touch it,” Stella said. “Right there.”

Red put his finger on the silver and a woman appeared in his mind, instantly speaking to him, “4.5”.

“Weird!” He exclaimed.

“You can turn the image off if you want or if you like, just activate it with your thoughts,” Stella said. “I told it to speak to you in audiovisual mode.”

“Neat! Where’d you get that?” Red asked, still not convinced they were from the future.

“I told you. My father… 23rd century,” she said. “You won’t find this trinket in your time.”

“Yeah right,” Red said gruffly. “What’s 4.5 mean?”

“4.5?” Sondra asked Red.

“Yeah, this thing talked to me,” Red answered. “It said 4.5…”

Stella was getting impatient and Louis could tell.

“We’ve converted to metric time in the 23rd century,” he explained. “The 5-point is what you call twelve noon. 4.5 is the time right now, which by your chrono is..?”

“My watch, you mean,” Sondra replied. “It’s 10:48.” She was becoming more interested in the newcomers. The idea had already occurred to Sondra that the 24-hour day could be changed to a base-10 system.

“If you really are from our future, how do you time travel?” She asked Louis again.

“I just. I just have the ability. There’s no machine. I just do it.”

“You just ‘do it.'” Sondra repeated incredulously.

“Yes,” Louis said. “When I was a kid I used to experience minor slips and glimpses of other times.”

“And now..” Sondra prodded.

“It developed over the years. Now I just do it. I enter into a kind of meditation, and I go.” Louis said matter of factly.

“How did Stella get here with you?” Sondra asked.

“It’s a long story.”

“Some criminals from our time were trying to kill him…” Stella began.

“Don’t bother–” Louis said.

“They might as well know,” Stella said. “Louis knows a lot about corruption in our society and the bastards don’t like his resistance,” Stella said. “So they paid a man whose primary job in life is to kill people, but I saw—”

“She saw the guy with a maser—” Louis continued.

“A what?” Sondra asked.

“It’s a weapon,” Louis explained. “So we ran into a bank with this creep chasing close behind. We ended up in the washroom… then we leaped here.” Louis finished the story by adding, “Standing on the toilet.”

“Sounds like a good book,” Jem said.

“Well, we’re living it,” Stella replied, shaking her head.

“Proof. I need proof,” Sondra insisted.

At that moment a stranger approached the camp. He wore a trench coat with a wide-brimmed hat and was carrying a guitar case. Stella recognized him immediately.

“Speak of the devil,” she whispered.

© 2022, Michael William Clark. All rights reserved.

Did you miss part of the story? Find it here!