Chapter Six
Wednesday, November 15, 2000
1:23 P.M.
After Goldie Wilson was settled in one of the guest rooms, Doc sat down with Sam in the parlor, alone.
"We know Patrick Ross altered history," he said, "That much is obvious. How that alteration became the universe we now inhabit took the efforts of myself and Clara to figure out. Computer, map of the United States."
A holograph of the United Sates appeared in the air in front of them. To Sam's surprise, it included all of the old United States, Canada, and Mexico. Only the states east of the Mississippi seemed familiar.
"As you can see, the United States is much larger than it used to be. That is an indirect result of Ross' actions."
"How?" Sam asked.
Doc took a deep breath, "I should start from the beginning. In 1827 Mr. Ross, acting under the name 'Peter Ross', first patented the electric motor. By 1835, the infrastructure necessary for modern society followed: power plants, power lines, light bulbs, et cetera.
"One of Ross' 'inventions' was the fuel cell motor. With this device, others were able to develop the tank, which entered the United States armed forces. Computer, show map of the United States in 1840."
The image did not seem different from what Sam knew of American history. Texas, marked as an independent country, was against the western border of the United Sates. Most of the west was marked as Mexican territory, with the Oregon Territory (including old Washington state and Idaho) marked as "disputed between Britain and America."
Doc continued, "In 1845, war broke out between the United States and Mexico over the status of Texas, which wanted to become a U.S. state. With the advantage of mechanized infantry, the United States was able to completely conquer Mexico.
"This led to the question of whether Mexico would be admitted as a state, or several states, and whether those would be free states or slave states. President Tyler reached a compromise, one which allowed him a second term, and one which brought slavery to the new state of El Dorado, which is made up of our northern California and Nevada."
Next, an image of the compromise appeared in the air, showing slave states in red. They included most of the western United States in the old timeline, and most of northern Mexico in the old timeline as well.
"So with this compromise," Sam said, "Slavery was able to endure. Shit."
"I know," Doc said.
"I can't believe this!" Sam shouted. "You know, when I first saw this world, I thought it was a better place, that maybe we should leave it be."
Doc nodded, "You made the error of assuming that technological advancement was the same as societal advancement. But Sam, technology is neither good nor evil, people are."
"And the people of 1824 weren't ready for high technology, so they used it for evil."
"Exactly!" Doc said, pleased that Sam was following.
Sam sat back in the couch, "So what do we do now?"
"We retrieve the hovercam," Doc said, "That was a smart move, setting it up. We use it to track Ross down, and then we, uh, 'apprehend' him."
"And then what?"
Doc hesitated, "I'm not sure. We certainly can't kill him! I think that, once we restore the original world, we will make sure that he never finds out about the time machine; thus, he'll never be able to create this twisted world in the first place."
Sam nodded and said, "How did he find out about the time machine? He never told us, you know."
Doc said, "He worked at the Lake of the Pines facility where we first tested the machine. I imagine he was working late one night and…" he shrugged. "We'll find out."
Sam wasn't too sure, however. "He knew about your father-in-law. He must've overheard us when we were planning the original trip."
"Perhaps," Doc said, "Though I'm pretty sure I know why he did what he did. Remember, he did say he would 'show us what he could do'."
"So? You know what he can do, right? I mean, he does work for you."
"Well, I think he may be upset about the ReadyMade patent. If I recall, he was a member of that project but not mentioned by name. He may feel unappreciated because of that. Still, to go this far…Great Scott!"
Sam thought Doc was taking a pretty big leap, but he didn't say anything.
Doc changed the subject and asked, "Where did you find that rifle? I had a similar one in the Old West, but I left it there."
"It was in Doc-B's lab," Sam said.
"'Doc-B'?"
Sam explained how he thought of the denizens of this timeline as "B's". He also described finding the other time machine in Doc-B's lab.
"Fascinating," Doc said, "So there's another time machine here?"
"It has to be. It certainly looks like another time machine."
Doc thought for a moment, "We need to take it with us."
"Doc?"
"Sam, you know full well that time machines themselves are immune to changes in time. They alone cannot be erased from history. Having a souvenir from an alternate timeline could be useful to study. It could offer a window into the timeline-changing process."
Sam smiled, "And it may help us in another way, too. I think I have a plan."
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
Doc opened it to find Marty there, leaning on the doorframe and out of breath.
"Marty!" Doc hissed, "What in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton are you doing here?!"
"Had to come, Doctor!" He said in between breaths, "The Vigilance Committee was not happy about you rescuing that nigger."
"Wilson," Doc said angrily, "His name is Wilson."
"Whatever!" Marty snapped, "Listen! They're coming round in about fifteen minutes, a hundred of 'em. More. They're gonna make you lynch him or they'll torch the house."
"Great Scott!"
"I think it's time we got out of here," Sam said, standing up, "Marty."
"Samuel," Marty said, following Doc out to the garage, "What's up, anyway? Why did you care about that—hey, what's this?"
Marty stood next to the Thunderbird.
"It involves time travel, Marty," Doc said, "Let's leave it at that. Sam, could you show me the other time machine?"
Sam did, but they needed Marty to show them how to open and use it. Inside were velvet seats, a steering stick rather than a steering wheel, and a bank of knobs. One of them was labeled "cloaking device".
"Perfect!" Sam said; to Doc, "I'll explain in a minute. When are we going?"
"January 1, 1825, Union Township sounds good," Doc said, turning the stagecoach on. "I'll take this, since my other self designed it, I should be able to figure out how it works. You take the Thunderbird."
"Check, Doc."
"Hey, Doctor!" Marty said.
"What?"
Marty hesitated, and then smiled, "Good luck with whatever you have to do."
Doc smiled back, "Thank you, Marty."
Moments later, they were in the air and in time.