Outta Time Chapter 14: The Test, a don't starve fanfic

Chapter 14, everybody! In which Wilson exhibits shades of Doc Brown….And for those who wonder, Maxwell is referencing The Shadow pulps—specifically novels such as "Racket Town" and "City of Doom."

"You got in late last night."

"I noticed."

Charlie watched Maxwell carefully. "So, what is it?" she asked.

"I can't tell you."

"And why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous. I can't even take it seriously."

"I promise I won't laugh."

"I promise to tell you as soon as I can think of it with a straight face." Here he paused, considering. Charlie had to stifle a giggle at the expression that crossed his face. "Nope—fail."

"And yet you're heading out to work on this mystery project," she observed as he headed for the back door.

"Hey, the sooner I can get it out of my system, the better. Ta ta, my love."

She stuck her tongue out at him as he left. He'd get like this and then follow the idea until it either bore fruit or petered out. He had a tenacious streak a mile long.

That's what you like about him, she mused, remembering their courtship.

It was also infuriating at times.

She decided to make lunch for him—it would give her a good excuse to poke around in the garage.

Of course, she reflected, looking at the boxes still littering the rooms, she'd have to find some pots and pans first.

Wilson didn't really get a good night's sleep.

For one, there was no place that was really all that comfortable in the garage. For another, he was too busy trying to figure out how to harness the power of the heavens and channel it into the time machine. He was fairly certain he had a working idea.

"What the—"

"Oh good, you're here," Wilson observed, seeing Professor Carter frozen in the doorway. "I had an idea," he explained, gesturing to the little model town. "Sorry it looks so odd—I didn't have time to paint it and it's not built to scale, so…."

Professor Carter crossed over to the town and stared at it before staring at him. "There's this thing," he said slowly. "It's called sleep. Did you get any?"

"There's this thing," Wilson replied, matching his tone. "It's called insomnia. I had it. Besides, do you see a pillow in here?"

"You need a life, kid."

"I had one," Wilson observed. "But unfortunately, it's in 1985 and therefore and thusly suspended."

Professor Carter looked like he very much wanted to slap him upside the head, but fortunately refrained. "So what is all this?"

"An idea on how to properly get the lightning from the clock tower to the DeLorean," Wilson explained, pointing. "We hook up a lightning rod to the clock tower, run a wire down to the street, suspend a metal bar over the street, and utilize a hook and wire that delivers the charge direct to the flux capacitor."

"That still boggles my mind," he heard Professor Carter mutter. "First question," he continued, louder. "Is it going to work?"

"I don't know," Wilson admitted. "That's why we experiment. Do you have a battery, jumper cables, and a toy car?"

"Give me a minute," Professor Carter sighed, moving through the garage. "Next question—if this does work, where do you think you're getting the equipment? It's not like I have industrial-strength wire lying around here—at least, I don't think I do."

Wilson gave that some thought. "I don't suppose there's a hardware store that supplies it."

"I don't suppose."

"Well, we'll cross that hurdle when we get to it, I suppose," Wilson noised, spotting the jumper cables. "Or we could just string a bunch of jumper cables end to end."

"And hope to high heaven that everyone will be at that dance-thing that night," Professor Carter observed, coming back with a small wind-up car and a battery.

"It help that everyone's curfew seems to be nine," Wilson said as Professor Carter attached a hook and wire to the wind-up car.

"Gangster mooks don't help there."

"Isn't Shanter a little small for that?"

"You would think. Unless you read the pulps, in which case it's just the right size."

"Hmm. Wind that car up, please."

Professor Carter did so as Wilson hooked up the battery. He hooked one jumper cable to the end beam representing the street light, then held the other one over the nail representing the clock tower's lighting rod. "Ready?"

Professor Carter gave a sort of sideways nod—Wilson took it as a cue to get on with it.

"Set…go!"

Professor Carter let go of the car as Wilson hooked the jumper cable to the nail, completing the circuit.

There was a flash of light as the little wire they had hooked to the car connected with the circuit.

That light continued—to his horror, Wilson noted the flaming toy car driving off the table and ran to intercept it.

He was a mite too slow, and it drove right into a bucket of old oil rags, setting them on fire.

Professor Carter was there instantly with a fire extinguisher.

"So!" he said conversationally—Wilson had heard the tone enough to know he was trying to control his temper. "Aside from setting my garage on fire, it looks like that'll work. Now what about the cable?"

"We could try the university," Wilson suggested.

"And why would they help?"

"Don't you work there?"

"No…."

"You do in 1985."

"Well that's thirty years from now, isn't it?"

"True….Wait—I might have an idea—"

That was cut off by a tapping at the door.

Professor Carter angled himself so he could see out the window. "Aw, cripes," he noised. "Quick—hide the time machine."

"Why?" Wilson asked, already flinging a tarp over the DeLorean. "Who is it?"

"Charlie."