Chapter 2
Saturday, May 17th, 1986
Hill Valley
3:32 P.M.
Marty jogged into Doc's garage. "Sorry I'm a little late," he panted. "I tried to leave enough time to go, but Linda and her latest conquest wouldn't get off the front step. I eventually had to threaten dump ice water down the back of her blouse."
"Don't worry about it," Doc told him as the tentacles patted him on the back. "We're not leaving right this instant. We need to do some prepwork first, such as changing into more futuristic attire."
"I can see," Marty said, nodding at Doc's outfit. His friend was wearing a long gold coat, a red shirt with lines of white Japanese symbols, and bright yellow pants. The teenager frowned dubiously. "Is that really what they wear in the future?"
Doc smirked. "Considering some of the outfits I saw, this is fairly tame." Verne grabbed a bundle off the table. "Here's your outfit. Jennifer's in the bathroom changing into hers."
Marty accepted the clothes and unfolded them with a bit of trepidation. His outfit considered of a bright green shirt emblazoned with a plus and minus sign, a large red and black jacket, a multi-colored cap, and white Nike sneakers. He supposed it wasn't too bad – it was way better than Doc's, at any rate – but still, he was glad nobody from this time period would be seeing it. "Thanks, Doc." Figuring he could start changing while he waited for Jennifer, he sat down and started untying his sneakers.
As he got them off, Jennifer emerged from the bathroom, looking a bit uncomfortable in her pink blouse, yellow vest, metallic skirt, and light yellow tights. "Are you sure this is the longest skirt you could find?" she asked, pulling at the offending item.
"Sorry – we looked all over," Doc said sympathetically as the tentacles nodded. "Is it really that bad?"
"I guess not, not with the tights, but still--" she yanked on it again. "I'm not used to wearing anything this short."
"I like it," Marty grinned.
"You would," Jennifer shot back, though not without a smile of her own.
Marty was distracted from answering by his future sneaker. As he stuck his foot in, the shoe automatically adjusted to fit. "Power laces! All right!"
"Most everything in the future is designed to automatically custom-fit to the buyer," Doc said. "Makes clothes-shopping much easier."
"Great." Marty quickly swapped shirts as Jennifer, Doc, and the tentacles looked away, then put on the jacket. It hung loosely on him, looking to be about four sizes too big. "Uh, Doc, how do you get this one to adjust?"
"There's a touchpad you have to press," Doc explained, squeezing one of the corners. The jacket immediately shrunk, announcing, "Size adjusting – fit."
"Yeah, I accidentally touched the one on my vest," Jennifer said. "Freaked me out when I heard the voice."
"That is kind of creepy," Marty admitted, looking down at the now perfectly-sized jacket. He shrugged and stuck on the cap. "So? How do I look?"
Doc frowned, studying him. "Pull out your pants pockets. It's a fad among some teenage boys to wear their pants inside out." Marty did so. Doc smiled and nodded. "Perfect. You're--"
Albert suddenly made a clicking noise as Doc's expression changed to a thoughtful frown. "– the spitting image of Marty Junior. That has the potential to be a problem."
Marty and Jennifer looked at each other. "What? No way, Doc. My kid can't look that much like me."
"Oh yes he can. I've met him, don't forget. The only real difference I saw was eye color – his are brown, like Jennifer's. It's about the same thing with your daughter, too, actually – she just has lighter hair."
"I still think you're exaggerating."
"Trust me, I'm not." Doc frowned at the tentacles, who chittered back at him. "Perhaps I could try integrating projection technology into you. . .heh, yes, Tommy, I see your Star Wars joke. . . ."
". . . .You know, Doc, they – they could just show me."
Doc paused at that. Then he turned and looked at Marty. The teen shrugged, pushing up the hair on the back of his neck. "You know. . . ."
Doc bit his lip while the tentacles chattered nervously. He hadn't used Jules's special attachments to link up to Marty's brain since the incident with Intern Carlyle. Despite Marty's assurance the intrusion hadn't harmed him, he still considered it extremely dangerous. One small thing going wrong. . . .
Marty guessed at Doc's hesitation. "Doc, really. I'll be fine. That CAT scan said Jules didn't do anything."
Jules looked from Marty to Doc. I suspect that – in part – he's doing this just to be belligerent.
I agree, Doc replied with the slightest of nods. But I think he's more curious than anything else. And I suppose he does have a point – the CAT scan should have picked up any abnormalities. Final call is up to you, of course.
Jules hesitated for a moment more. Then he went over and put his claw around Marty's neck. The teen winced slightly as the wires pierced his skin. Seconds later, he heard the soft rumble of scientific equations that always seemed to be at the back of Doc's mind. "All set?" Doc said.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"All right." Doc concentrated for a moment. A picture appeared in Marty's mind of – well, it looked like him in future clothes. He was about to point this out when the picture suddenly zoomed in on his other self's face. Marty stopped as he realized his counterpart did have brown eyes. "Holy shit! That's Marty Junior? Really?"
Doc chuckled. "Yup, that's Marty Junior. The new and improved version, that is. The old one had much greasier hair."
See what we mean by twins? Albert added as the picture zoomed back out.
"Yeah – weird," Marty muttered. "So, uh, what do we do? People are gonna think I'm him!"
"It would be a longshot for both of you to be wearing the same clothes," Jennifer said, eyeing Jules.
"Yes, but that doesn't mean much if the people in question hadn't seen Marty Junior in person," Doc said as Jules withdrew from Marty's mind. Verne was ready with a napkin to blot up any blood. "This means that the rule about not getting into any long conversations has become particularly important. The last thing we need is you possibly doing something odd with his social group. Just do your absolute best not to talk to anyone if you can help it."
"Not a problem, Doc," Marty said, still rather stunned. "Jesus. . . ."
"Is it really that bad?" Jennifer asked.
"You could see for yourself," Marty told her as Jules chittered.
Jennifer held up a hand. "No thanks. You may be okay with hooking up, but it's just too weird for me." Jules nodded understandingly. "I'll take your word for it."
Doc nodded as well. "Yes, we really shouldn't delay any longer. Still up for the trip?"
"Hell yeah. Seeing Marty Junior didn't freak me out all that much." Marty looked thoughtful. "Though, he isn't Marty Junior any more, is he? You said we renamed him. . . . What's his name now?"
Doc frowned, snapping his fingers. "Damn, it escapes me," he said, leading the way over to the DeLorean. "I haven't seen either of your children that much during my future trips, and it's easy to think of him as Marty Junior because he looks so much like you."
Marty shook his head again. "I'm glad we change it. Talk about overkill."
"I guess we'll find out what it is if anyone mistakes Marty for the-kid-formerly-known-as-Junior," Jennifer said with a slight chuckle.
"True enough," Doc nodded. "Just be careful and remember what I said."
"We will, Doc."
Doc smiled and opened up the doors. "All right then. Let's go."
Marty and Jennifer hopped in, Jennifer settling herself on Marty's lap. Doc and the tentacles squeezed themselves into the other side, the tentacles carefully sliding through the new holes in the seat. Tight fit, Tommy remarked, looking around.
Very tight, Albert agreed with a squeak.
"We'll live," Doc said, closing his door. "Time circuits on – let's shoot for October 27th, 2015, about 2:30 P.M."
"Sounds good to me," Marty said, putting his arms around his girlfriend.
Jennifer glanced around nervously. "Uh – is there anything you can do about the seatbelt situation? I mean, I know you're not going to deliberately crash us, but I don't feel safe without one on."
The tentacles did their best to curl around the passengers. "That'll have to do for now," Doc said. "They won't let anything happen to any of us."
The tentacles nodded, chittering. Jennifer managed a smile. "I know, but still. . . ."
"We'll see about extending out the regular seatbelts once we get back," Doc promised.
Come on, Father, let's go! Tommy cried, excited.
Doc chuckled. "All right, hang on everyone," he said, starting up the car.
Luckily for them, it was an overcast Saturday, meaning not as many people were on the roads. Doc drove over to a secluded side street near Clayton Ravine, then engaged the hover conversion. Switching his regular sunglasses for his future driving glasses, he gunned the DeLorean into the sky. "Prepare yourselves for temporal displacement!"
Marty and Jennifer braced themselves while the tentacles tightened their grip, watching the windshield with interest. Moments later, they hit the magic number of 88. There was a brilliant flash of light, a sonic boom – and then what appeared to be a flying Edsel passed them on the right.
Marty and Jennifer stared. "Jesus, those pieces of junk still exist?" Marty blurted, too stunned to think of anything else.
Doc smiled. "Believe it or not, I've seen flying Yugos," he said as more skyway traffic flew around them. "Pintos too. Other cars give them a wide berth."
"Christ."
The tentacles peered eagerly out the windows. So this is the future? Doesn't look too different from home, Verne commented.
Hey, there are houses down there! Tommy noted, looking down.
"Hill Valley's grown a lot in the past three decades," Doc said, making a few turns so they were heading back into the town. "Things will start to look more futuristic once we reach the heart of town."
"They seem pretty futuristic to me already," Marty said, watching the flying cars around them. "When the hell do cars start flying? Half the drivers I know I don't trust on the regular road."
"I don't know the exact date, but I assume it's reasonably new technology," Doc admitted, passing a large tractor-trailer truck. "Given the number of older cars on the road and the commercials for hover-conversions, anyway. I assume newer models are sold fully equipped."
"Heavy," Marty mumbled.
After a few minutes, they reached the exit for the Town Square. Doc pulled off the "road" past a big floating sign welcoming them to Hill Valley. They landed in an alley nearby, Marty, Jennifer, and the tentacles crowding the windows to try and get a glimpse of the square. "All right, all right, settle down," Doc told them, trying not to laugh. "You'll be able to see everything in a minute."
"Why land in an alley?" Jennifer asked as they piled out.
"It's safer than landing directly on the street," Doc said. "I can talk to you in private here, and – well, a few of the modifications I've made to the DeLorean might not be seen as exactly street legal. I have no wish to procure a fine, especially with future inflation being as it is."
We're street legal, correct? Albert asked, clacking his claw nervously.
"There are laws against illegal bionics, but considering you were welded onto me about 30 years before they were enacted, I think we're all right." The tentacle nodded, relieved.
Marty and the others investigated some of the trash. "Are these laserdiscs?" Marty asked, pointing.
"Yup. They're pretty much out of date by this point, what with videobooks and DVD."
Tommy hefted a pink bundle. What's silicone?
"It's a synthetic material often used in cosmetic surgery."
"Cosmet – Oh, God, tell me those aren't what they think they are," Jennifer said, covering her mouth.
"They are," Doc said, trying to keep the amusement off his face. "We must be near Bottoms Up."
But what are they? Jules asked.
"Breast implants."
EWWW!! Tommy dropped the package, screeking. I touched that!
"See what I mean about not touching anything unfamiliar?" Tommy nodded, trying to wipe his claw off on Doc's jacket.
"Gross – they should at least label them," Jennifer said, making a face.
"Well, I'm sure people in the future know not to touch." Doc opened up the hood of the DeLorean and pulled out a suitcase. "Here's the plan. The kids and I will accompany you for your first look around the Town Square. Then we'll have to leave for our eye appointment at the RevitaClinic. Under no circumstances are you to leave the square. You may look around, but keep all interactions to a minimum." He popped the case open. "I called ahead and discovered the operation shouldn't take more than a couple of hours. Therefore, at roughly 4:30, I want you to head to the Café 80s."
"Café 80s?" Marty repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"One of those nostalgia places, but not done very well. I'll meet up with you there, and we'll grab a snack before returning home. Acceptable?"
Marty and Jennifer were about to nod their agreement when they noticed something. Instead of clothing, Doc's suitcase was filled with all kinds of money, each in a pouch labeled with a year. "Jesus, Doc, where'd you get all of that?" Marty gasped.
"Doubleloons? You've actually got doubleloons?" Jennifer added, looking through the denominations.
You haven't been making more illegal deals, have you Father? Verne asked, squeaking.
"It's all on the up and up," Doc assured everyone. "On my initial trips to the future, I sold off some junk I didn't need anymore, then used that money to purchase old coins and bills. We have to be prepared for all monetary possibilities with a time machine at our disposal." He selected a pouch labeled "2015" and pulled out a stack of bills. "Here – should be enough for an emergency and a quick meal."
"Where's your money?" Jennifer asked as Marty took the cash.
"I plan to charge the operation via thumbprint," Doc explained. "It's how most monetary transactions are conducted these days."
"So why give us the paper stuff?" Marty asked.
"I can pass myself off as my older self – you can't," Doc said simply. "For a minor purchase like food, cash should be fine." He relocked the suitcase and put it back in the trunk. "All right," he said, locking the DeLorean up, "ready to see the future?"
"Ready!" Marty and Jennifer chorused.
Let's blow this popsicle stand, Tommy agreed, his brother tentacles nodding. Doc grinned and lead them all out of the alley.
As promised, the square looked a lot different than the one from 1985. Marty and Jennifer stared at all the stores. "Jesus, I haven't seen this place so busy since – well, the 50s," Marty admitted. "What happened to Lone Pine Mall?"
"Oh, it's still open," Doc said. "The selection of stores has changed a bit, though. And now we have another, more local mall." He pointed to a sign nearby, sitting over a series of steps leading underground. "They remodeled the courthouse for that purpose."
"They turned the courthouse into a mall?" Marty said, looking over at the building itself. The basic frame looked the same, though the front was now smoked glass instead of brick. The clock on top was still stopped – Marty noted with some amusement they also hadn't fixed the chunk Doc had taken out of the ledge climbing all over it in 1955. A group of teenagers in the same ultra-colorful clothes everyone was wearing were loitering on the steps, apparently talking to each other.
"A quite successful one too," Doc said, nodding at the group. "Every time I've visited, it's been bustling with activity."
"Heavy."
Jennifer admired the park in front of the renovated courthouse. "That's so much nicer than that ugly parking lot," she said. "Though, where do people park?"
"Perhaps there's a floating sky garage nearby," Doc shrugged. "I always entered on foot."
Jennifer nodded, then took a look over at the local movie theater. "Holo-Max?" she repeated disbelievingly. "Playing Jaws 19?"
"How the hell do you get 19 sequels out of Jaws?" Marty agreed, frowning at the marquee. "I mean, the shark's dead!"
"Damned if I know," Doc said with another shrug.
Suddenly, a large shark's head rose out of the top of the theater, eyes bulging. Marty and Jennifer started back as the famous theme began playing. The shark lunged at some passerby, jaws wide. "Whoa! Hey, guys--" Marty started, stepping forward.
As the shark bit the people, though, it dissolved away. The "victims" didn't even notice. Marty turned pink as Doc and Jennifer sniggered and the tentacles buzzed. "Shark still looks fake," he muttered, turning back to his friends.
"Of course it does," Doc said with a wide, shit-eating grin.
"That was pretty cool, though," Jennifer said. "I wonder how it works."
The tentacles stretched up to get a better look. Is that the kind of projection technology you'd use with us? Jules asked.
Looks cheesy to me, Albert said.
"Maybe, but in 1985, it would probably be seen as cutting edge," Doc said. "I mean, look what happened with Marty." Albert had to nod.
Marty was about to shoot him a nasty look when he got distracted by something on the other side of the street. "Hey, guys, check it out," he said, pointing. The others turned to see a fully automated Texaco station checking over a car above a 7-11. "You can trust your car to the system with the star," a voice announced as robotic arms filled the tank, checked the wiper fluid, and cleaned the tires.
The tentacles squealed their delight. Yay! We're not weird anymore!
Doc had to laugh. "Yes, here in the future creations like you are a bit more commonplace," he said, patting them. "Though I doubt there's any truly sentient robots yet."
Just so long as there are robots, Jules said.
Tommy spotted the Café 80s on the corner. He tapped the teens on the shoulders and pointed it out. Marty pulled a face. "Cheesy sign."
"Like I said, not done very well." Doc checked his watch. "All right, the tentacles and I are due at the Revita-Clinic. We'll see you in a couple of hours. Remember, we're meeting at the Café 80s at 4:30."
"Gotcha, Doc. Good luck with the operation." Marty patted Verne. "And stay out of trouble, you guys."
The tentacles nodded. Doc smiled and gave the teens a hug. "All right. You kids have fun." He turned and headed for the Revita-Clinic, the tentacles bobbing in his wake.
The lobby was fairly quiet as they entered. Jules looked around as they approached the front desk. Father, I just realized something. Nobody's staring at us.
Really?
Not that we can see, Verne said. You must have been correct in 1986 – people are getting used to us.
I should hope so – it's been 30 years for them! Doc went up to the human receptionist on duty. "Excuse me – I have an appointment with the vision specialist. My name is Dr. Emmett Brown."
The receptionist checked her list and nodded. "Yes, that would be Dr. M.J. Sheley. Let me just IM her and let her know you're here." She tapped something out on her keyboard. Moments later, her computer dinged. "She's waiting for you in room 207 – just go up one floor and walk down the hall until you see it."
"Thank you." Doc and the tentacles boarded one of the nearby elevators. Tommy screeched in puzzlement as the doors closed. Where are the buttons? How do we tell it where we want to go?
Most likely it's voice activated. "Second floor please," Doc stated aloud.
The elevator obligingly moved up. At least there's no crappy elevator music,Albert said.
Doc snorted. "Just one of the many improvements of the future."
They reached the second floor within a couple of minutes. Doc and the tentacles disembarked and quickly found room 207. A fair-haired woman in a green jumpsuit was waiting for them. "Dr. Sheley, I presume?" Doc asked, holding out a hand.
"Yes, though it's pronounced 'she-lee,'" the doctor corrected, shaking it. "I really should just call myself 'shelly,' no one gets it right." Doc smiled apologetically. "How are you feeling today?"
"Ready to get rid of these," Doc said, tapping the driving glasses.
"I'm sure. Well then, sit down, and we'll be begin. Dim lights."
The lights lowered to a comfortable level as Doc and the tentacles settled themselves into a reclining chair. "I'm sorry if it's a little uncomfortable – we don't have any chairs that can accommodate the tentacles on hand," Dr. Sheley apologized.
"It's all right – the cushions have enough give to make it bearable," Doc assured her, taking off his glasses and slipping them in his pocket.
A motorized tool tray rolled up next to them. The tentacles investigated the instruments, not recognizing anything except the sleep inducer. "Settle down, you lot," Dr. Sheley said, shooing them away. "You'll be able to see what they do in a minute."
The tentacles froze, stunned. "Is something wrong?"
"It's – I'm not used to anyone else talking to them like they're alive," Doc confessed, just as astonished. "Usually it's just Marty and Jennifer who do that."
Dr. Sheley smiled. "I see. I imagine most people can't get past the robotic elements." Doc and the tentacles shook their heads. "I'm sure things will turn around. These days, it's hard to go through life without talking to at least one AI."
The tentacles buzzed as Doc chuckled. "True enough." Great Scott, boys, can you believe it?
Barely,Albert said. Though it's about time!
Dr. Sheley tied on a surgical mask. "All right, ready?" Doc nodded. She picked up the sleep inducer. "Tentacles, do you mind monitoring his sleep state and preventing any nightmares? Saves me having to hook up the brainwave neuralizer."
Can do, Verne said as he and his brothers nodded and clicked.
"Good, thanks. Pleasant dreams, Dr. Brown."