Standard disclaimer: If you've seen the character on television, then it's the property of the Walt Disney Company. Considering Disney has created characters that enjoy writing fanfic, I don't think it's a big deal.

Without further ado…

Maddie of the Future

By

James Doyle

Boston

A.D. 2130

Phil Diffy made his way eastward on the L-90 freeway. He had been skiing on Titan with his parents when he received an urgent call from his boss to report back to work. The next available flight had been to Seattle, leaving Phil with a twelve-hour drive once he returned earth-side.

It was all good, he thought. In the early hours of the morning, he approached Boston. After a quick shower and change of clothes at his condo, he could dispatch whatever annoyance his job had chosen to bestow upon him this time. Once he'd completed that task, he could easily negotiate for an extra week of vacation. Or so he thought.

The first of many complications presented itself in the form of Billie Joe Armstrong blaring "I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies…" through the telecom implant in his left eardrum.

"Phil Diffy," he said quickly, answering the call. Given that he knew only one person in this century who liked Green Day, he correctly surmised who had called him.

"Hey bro! How's it going?" said Pim Diffy, offering her usual hollow pleasantries.

"Frack it all to haze, Pim!" cursed Phil. "I thought I told you to quit fracking with my ringtones!"

"Funny," replied Pim. "But when I let you set your own ringtones, you never seem to return my calls."

Phil sighed, knowing he wasn't going to win this one. "Alright, Pim, what do you want?"

"I was wondering if you could give me a boost to work this afternoon."

Phil became suspicious. "Why? Is there something wrong with your car?"

Pim hesitated for a moment. "Um, yeah, that's it. Darn thing just won't give me a pulse."

Phil growled. "Fine, I'll come take a look at it."

"No, no you don't have to!" said Pim, panic in her voice. "I just need a ride. I'll get my mechanic to…"

"I'll be at your place in ten, Pim," interrupted Phil. "End transmission."

Phil arrived at Pim's dingy South Boston apartment right on schedule. Pim came out into the garage to find Phil examining her car with an automotive scanner.

"You know, I really think a qualified mechanic should look at that," said a flustered Pim.

"Level two diagnostic complete," reported the computer voice. "All systems are within government-mandated operating parameters."

"Your car's just fine, Pim," grumbled Phil. "Now tell me the real reason you can't drive yourself to work.

"Um, well, see…I was out clubbing last night," improvised Pim. "Yeah, that's it! I know how you and the parentals always told me not to do that on a work night, but you know me! When I get into party mode, there's just no stopping me. I'm just too hung over to handle driving today."

"Uh huh," said Phil, approaching Pim with his wizard.

"You keep that thing away from me!" demanded Pim. Phil ignored her and continued to scan.

"Blood alcohol levels are within legal limits," reported the computer. Phil seized the element of surprise and snatched Pim's purse.

"How dare you," protested Pim. "I don't go through your personal belongings!"

Phil laughed as he made his way back to the car. "Since when?"

"Since now! I'm turning over a new leaf! I swear, if you take me to work without any further questions, I'll be a new woman!"

Phil ignored her and inserted her driver's license into the ignition slot.

"Unable to initiate," reported the car computer. "License has been suspended."

Phil took out the license and examined it:

Diffy, Pamela Lynn
821 Jackson St. Apt. 706
Boston, MA UMA-3345

NIRD: 2 May 2109

Sex: F
Height: 157 cm
Mass: 55 kg
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Blue

Phil scrolled through the various medical, employment, and other information until he found Pim's driving record.

Violations:

Speeding: 5
Reckless Driving: 2
Obstructing Traffic: 1
Failure to Obey Signals or Signage: 3

Points: 13
Fines: 600 Credits

License Suspended 14 August 2130

Traffic Court Summons, next screen

"This is outrageous," scolded Phil. "You just got your license back, Pim! Now you could lose it for good."

Pim rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! It's not like your driving record is spotless."

Phil smiled as he handed Pim his driver's license:

Diffy, Phillip James
4308 New London Dr.
Foxboro, MA UMD-2214

Sex: M
NIRD: 11 February 2107
Height: 178 cm
Mass: 72 kg
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown

Violations

Points: 0
Fines: 0 Credits

An advertisement window appeared on the license:

You qualify for a reduced insurance rate. Contact your local Wizard Casualty agent.

Pim snorted.

"I should just leave you here," said Phil. "I should let you suffer the consequences."

Pim smiled. "But I know you're not going to."

Phil growled. "No, I'm not. Because if you lose your job, you'll lose your apartment, you won't be able to pay for school, and because I'm completely spineless, you'll end up moving in with me! So to spare us both a lot of misery, I have no choice but to take you to work. Just two conditions."

"Name 'em."

"One, I'm going to have to shower and change here, since I don't have time to go home now."

"Done. What else?"

"I don't know what's going on at work or how long it'll take. I might not have time to come back here and pick you up, so you'll have to go with me."

"Phil," protested Pim. "You know I get sick reading in the car."

Phil chuckled. "Something tells me you wouldn't have gotten much reading done, anyway."

A few minutes later, Phil found himself negotiating the three-dimensional labyrinth of buildings, cars, and miscellanea that comprised downtown Boston. After several minutes of his usual work-day combat piloting, he pulled into the upper drop-off zone of the Tipton Hotel.

"Valet mode," Phil instructed the car as he and Pim exited. Phil moved his hand over the valet's transaction machine and punched in a tip as the valet parked his car.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Martin," said Phil to his boss as he entered the main lobby.

"Likewise," replied Dex Martin, an elegantly-clad businessman in his mid thirties, with spiky blond hair and just a hint of Asian features. "New girlfriend, Diffy?"

Phil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "No, sir. This is my sister Pim. Pim, this is Dex Martin, CEO of the Tipton Group, my boss."

Pim extended her hand, and Martin kissed it. "A pleasure, Miss Diffy."

"Likewise," she replied with an evil smile.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner," apologized Phil as they headed toward the elevator.

"That's quite alright, Diffy," replied Martin. "She's not going anywhere."

"She?"

"You'll see when we get there."

A security guard prevented Pim from entering the elevator.

"I'm sorry, miss," said the guard. "You'll have to wait here."

"Second sub-basement," commanded Martin.

"Voice authorization confirmed for Dex Martin," replied the computer. "Going down."

The elevator opened into a dark, moldy labyrinth. Temporary lights had been affixed to the ceiling to compensate for the floor's long-since outmoded electrical systems.

"I don't think I've ever been down here before," commented Phil.

"No one has," replied Martin. "Not for over a century. Modern technology has eliminated the need for much of the hotel's original infrastructure. My predecessor decided to seal it off rather than bear the expense of clearing it out."

Phil nodded. It was a fairly common practice nowadays, and he'd heard all kinds of stories about all kinds of bizarre discoveries in the dark recesses of historic buildings.

They came around the corner and found the source of the eerie glow emanating throughout the sub-basement: A wide beam emitting from a light fixture. Within the beam was all but the right hand of a bleach-blonde young woman in an early 21st century-vintage Tipton uniform.

"It looks like some kind of stasis field," commented Phil.

The technician nodded. "It's quite advanced for its time."

"It was probably built by Arwin Hawkhauser, the hotel engineer at the time," added Martin. "By all accounts, the guy was a total nut-job, but a brilliant inventor."

"Who is she?" asked Phil, looking at the girl with wonder.

"We've identified her as Madeline Fitzpatrick," replied the technician. "She's a Boston native, born 24 March 1990, declared missing in 2008, presumed dead in 2010."

"Do you think she's still alive?"

"We don't know," replied the technician. "The device has a shutdown sequence, but we don't know how well she's been preserved, or what will happen to her when we turn it off."

"Unfortunately, we can't move the machine without disrupting it," added Martin. "That's why we asked you here. This is your hotel, Diffy, so we need you here as a witness."

"Alright," said Phil. "When do we start?"

"The shutdown sequence will start as soon as you sign the authorization," said the technician as he handed Phil a data pad. Phil placed his thumb on the pad, and the shutdown sequence began. The light went off, and Maddie Fitzpatrick jolted to life.

"Yeah, very funny, Arwin," she said. "Arwin? Where are you Arwin? Wait, where am I? Something feels…" She looked at the blunted end of her right arm. "Oh my god! My hand! Arwin, what the hell did you do to my hand?"

Maddie then began to screech with abandon. The technician zapped her with his wizard, causing her to fall unconscious.

Martin called for two security guards. "Is the suite ready?" asked Martin.

"Yes, sir," replied the guard. "Windows are covered, all 22nd century technology has either been removed or disguised."

"Very good," said Martin. "Take Miss Fitzpatrick there and put her in bed. I want a full security detail, 24/7. None of this gets out until I say so."

"Yes, sir," replied the guard.

Martin turned to Phil. "Alright, Diffy. This is your show now."

"Beg your pardon, sir?"

"We take care of our employees here at the Tipton. I'm putting you in charge of Miss Fitzpatrick," explained Martin. "This is sure to be a real jolt to the synapses for her. I want you to make sure she makes the adjustment with a minimum of complications. Nobody knows the early 21st century better than you, Diffy."

"With all due respect, sir," argued Phil. "Lots of people have been to the 21st century."

"Lots of people have been there, Diffy, but as far as I know, you and your family are the only people from our time who've actually lived in that century."

"And what about my hotel?"

"Jiminez is ready for some responsibility. He'll keep her running smoothly for you."

"Very well, sir," conceded Phil. "I won't let you down."

"See that you don't, Diffy," replied Martin. "The lock is coded for your DNA. Now if you'll excuse me, I've already missed three meetings today, and I have five more to attend."

End of Chapter One