On To 1947

The equations were amazing. Zane knew he could spend days, weeks, months, studying them. The ramifications for physics were astounding. But the implications for the immediate problem were almost as interesting.

"So the loop isn't created by changing the past," he mused. "It's caused by the paradox of changing the past so that it prevents the future that initiated the change from coming to be."

"Yep," his future self agreed. "You can change the past as much as you like – well, sort of, it's incredibly risky – as long as you don't stop yourself from becoming the person who made the changes."

They were sitting at S.A.R.A.H.'s dining room table, a holographic display open in front of them.

"You're trying to create a loophole with this double-jump plan," Zane realized. "A way that we can retain the knowledge that we need to save Fargo—"

"—and keep the discovery of the faster-than-light drive, since it changes the world in ways that we like a lot—," he interrupted himself.

"—while still ending the paradox."

"Right."

"And the memory wipe—,"

"—prevents our knowledge from creating new paradoxes." Future Zane nodded.

Zane shook his head. "I hate that thought," he admitted. "What does the predictive analysis look like without the memory wipe?"

"It improves the odds of success four-fold."

Zane looked at his future self. Just looked. And waited. Really? Did his future self think he was stupid?

Future Zane sighed. "The odds go from 5 to 20%."

"Twenty percent?" Zane was shocked. "Best-case scenario is only 20%? What the hell?"

Future Zane shrugged. "You wouldn't believe the number of variables involved. Believe me, if we could improve those odds, we would, but there seems to be a strong possibility that the original future – the one where Alison dies, Fargo dies, we go to jail, and Jo disappears – is the only non-paradoxical future. It may be that saving Fargo is the paradox that creates the loop."

"Well, that sucks," Zane said. He looked at the equations again. God, they were beautiful. Almost as beautiful as Josephina Lupo, present and future. Somehow, he had to figure out a way to keep both. Everything. His memories, this future, he wanted all of it.

Across the table from him, his future self said "Excuse me." He tilted his head to one side, and scratched behind his ear, and his eyes went slightly blank, as he said, "Yeah? Really, already? That's bad." Zane frowned at him as he paused and nodded. "All right, I'll get it moving." Scratching behind his ear again, Future Zane said, "We've got to get going. The sheriff's car just showed up on Main Street."

Zane looked the question, and Future Zane added, "His car from back in 2011. You're already pulling objects from the past into the future. We have to get you out of here before it gets serious."

"Uh, actually, I was wondering who you were talking to. Has everyone in the future become telepathic?"

"Oh, right," his future self looked startled. "You probably shouldn't see this, but…" Turning his head, he showed Zane a tiny patch behind his ear. "Cell phone. Fargo on the line."*

"Nice," Zane said approvingly. He couldn't wait to live in the future.

"All right," Future Zane said. "We need to get Jo and send the two of you back to 1947." Jo and Future Jo had bailed on the physics conversation a while ago, heading upstairs in S.A.R.A.H. for their own chat.

"Wait." Zane put a hand out and stopped himself. "Last night, when you were talking about changing the timelines, Jo said that she'd been along for every change and you looked guilty. What was that about?"

Future Zane shook his head, and grunted a laugh. "Damn, I wish we didn't notice everything."

Zane waited, until Future Zane sighed and said, "I made one little trip on my own and made a change. But look, I haven't told anyone about it, and it hasn't been in the simulations, and I don't know whether it mattered or not, it was just one minor – tweak. Yeah, it was a tweak. That's all."

Zane kept waiting, but Future Zane didn't seem to want to say any more. "Not good enough," Zane finally said. "I want to know everything. If you made a change, I want to know about it, and I want to know why."

Future Zane grimaced. "Why am I such a pain in the ass?" he asked rhetorically, then continued. Zane listened. Minor tweak? Ha! Why did the future him keep thinking the past him was gullible?

"Are you insane?" he finally asked himself.

Future Zane shrugged and grinned. "It made her happy," he replied simply. "And I wanted her to be happy."

Hmm. A happy Lupo. The Enforcer had never seemed exactly happy: oh, sure, sometimes she was cheerful, but happy? Not so much. And since she'd changed on Founder's Day, she'd been different – less gung-ho and bossy – but definitely not happy. Zane wondered if he'd even recognize a happy Lupo.

"But look, you can't pull that one off, you can't stay in the past for long enough, so just forget about it, okay. It never happened."

Zane shrugged. He'd see.

Getting ready took several more hours. The future Eurekans knew exactly when Zane and Jo should arrive in the past based on the records of the bridge device experiments. Unfortunately, they'd need to stay there for a few days while they waited for the right moment to turn on Beverly's bridge device and bring Grant and Carter into the past to save Alison.

Fortunately, they could leave from S.A.R.A.H. and arrive in the original nuclear fallout shelter, built in 1944. Unlike the larger structure of hallways and rooms under Eureka from the same era, it would be pretty basic: a few small concrete rooms behind a blast proof door, with the stairwell leading to the surface.

Still, they needed supplies. Along with the two bulky bridge devices, they needed to bring food, clothes, sleeping bags, some basic tools. And of course Jo insisted on a fully stocked emergency kit, plus weapons and ammunition.

"Aren't our exotic particles going to be destroying the town sometime soon?" Zane finally begged. This was worse than packing to go backpacking, a chore he'd only tackled once and hoped never to do again.

"It's not like we can go shopping in 1947 for anything we're missing," Jo scolded, as she compared notes with Future Jo. Zane and Future Zane exchanged looks.

Finally, though, they were ready to go. They trekked down the hallway, laden with supplies, to the storeroom where the bridge devices were waiting.

"So we know this room exists in 1947, right?" Zane confirmed. The math might be interesting on what would happen if they opened a wormhole into packed dirt, but the experience wasn't something he wanted to try.

"Yes, this is one of the original rooms in the bunker," Future Jo said. She was looking around the room with a frown.

"What is it?" Future Zane asked.

"I'm not sure," she said slowly. "S.A.R.A.H., has anyone been in here recently?"

"No, Jo," S.A.R.A.H. replied, sounding surprised. "No one has entered this room since yesterday."

Future Jo didn't look entirely convinced, but she nodded, and then she and Jo started double-checking their gear.

"Enough already," Zane finally said. His backpack was ridiculously heavy. He grabbed hold of his bridge device and nodded at Jo to grab the other. "Push the damn button," he ordered his future self.

"Ready?" Future Zane looked at Jo, who grabbed the other bridge device and nodded. With a grin, he pushed the button on Grant's bridge device, and he and Future Jo disappeared.

Zane looked around. It wasn't just that their future selves were gone. The room had changed, too. The walls and floor were ugly gray concrete, the overhead light had become a bare bulb, and Grant's bridge device had also disappeared.

"Wow, that was kind of a let-down," he said to Jo. "But I guess this is 1947."

"Shh. . ." she whispered abruptly, holding up a hand for silence. "Do you hear that?"

He listened. Was that a sound of voices faintly arguing?

Carefully, Jo slipped out of her backpack and let it slide to the floor. She indicated with her chin that he should do the same and he followed suit, trying to move as quietly as possible.

But then she pulled a gun out from nowhere and he scowled at her, and shook his head. What were they going to do, shoot someone in 1947? With their luck, it'd turn out to be someone important's ancestor – maybe Fargo's – and they'd create an even worse paradox. "You can't shoot anyone here," he whispered. "We don't know who it might be."

Realization crossed her face and she nodded, slipping the gun back into its holster at her back. Quietly opening the backpack, she took out a Taser. He scowled even more fiercely. "No one here would have anything like that," he whispered. "You're going to give us away right away."

She glared at him, clearly frustrated. He pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear the conversation. Who would be using a fall-out shelter on a military base in 1947? And those voices. . . Hell. The pitch was totally wrong.

He looked back at Jo and tried not to grin. "Go ahead and bring the Taser," he said in a normal voice. "You can even use it."

She looked startled, and then even more startled as he opened the door and waved her through.

"Caiti? Amy?" he heard her say almost immediately. "How did you get here? What are you doing here?" And finally, "Do your parents know you're here?"

Zane followed her through the doorway, stepping up behind her. His children were standing in the next room, looking guilty as all hell. Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, "We are their parents."

And then straightening, he said, in as stern a voice as he could manage, "Grounded for life, both of you."


*I wish ff would let us use links, but if you search "Electronic Skin Grafts Gadgets to Body", you'll find a very cool article about some research out of Northwestern. Twenty years might be a little quick for it to become widespread reality, but hey, this is Eureka.

A/N: Thanks for this chapter go to ZeroGain and his story, "Writer's Block," which you should read if you haven't read, and which both inspired me and made me happy today.