Chapter 9
Saturday, October 24th
11: 56 A. M.
The group became so enthralled with each other's stories about the future that it came as an abrupt revelation to them that they were hungry. "Hey, Doc, my stomach's growling. Can we go to the Cafe 80s now?"
"I don't see why not. To tell the truth, I'm hungry too. My internal clock must think it's June 10th. We'll stop by the DeLorean to pick up some money and blood and head right over." They walked back to the alley where the DeLorean was parked.
Jennifer noticed the sign for the Cafe 80s as they passed. "Weird. I never saw anything like that in the 80s."
"It's not done very well," Doc reiterated, retrieving his 2015 cash from the money suitcase. "But then, I didn't recognize all the memorabilia in there. Some of it may come from after our frame of time reference. Still, it's far too colorful and strange to be truly 80s."
"From your point of view," Mystie argued, getting a bottle of blood. "Believe me, when you are affects your perception of the past. You see the 80s as normal because you live in it. But for the people of the future, the 80s must seem very strange."
"That's true, Doc," Marty agreed. "It's like me and the 50s. I saw it as quaint and boring before I went back."
Doc conceded the point. "They could have done better research, though. For some reason, they made Michael Jackson white. How in the name of Sir Issac H. Newton they could make that mistake is beyond me."
"Yeah, all they had to do was look at his music videos to see he was black," Jennifer said, surprised. "I bet it'll be an unnerving experience, both now and when we grow up normally."
Marty smiled. "Who cares? This is the best birthday present I've ever gotten! Thanks a lot, Doc. I can't wait until I catch up to this time!"
"I'm looking forward to everything but the inflation," Jennifer nodded, straightening her skirt as they headed for the cafe.
"Hey, you've got to - Oh, wow."
The Time Trippers stopped dead by the door as they entered the Cafe 80s. Bright, almost garish colors dominated the cafe. Both side walls were covered in 80s memorabilia, like pictures of famous rock stars and movie posters. A 'Wild Gunman' video arcade - one of Marty's favorite games from when he was younger - was tucked against one wall. A curvy counter separated the customers from the back. Behind it was a bank of video screens, showing a mix of 80s TV shows and menu choices. Glancing behind them, Marty noted that the booths lining the front of the cafe had smaller versions of these screens. Two people pedaled exercise bikes attached to the counter, one wearing some sort of virtual reality headset.
But most amazing of all were the waiters. Every one of them was a robot - or, more accurately, a monitor displaying a computer-generated 80s personality. There was a small tray for food underneath, and the vidwaiters glided around on an upper track.
One rolled towards them, bearing the image of Ronald Reagan. "Welcome to the Cafe 80s," he said, "where it's always morning in America, even in the afterno-no-noon!" He clicked from side to side as the group stared. "Our special today is tofu with hot peppers, onions, and cilantro sauce."
"That is right!" another vidwaiter shouted, rolling up beside him. This one bore the image of the Ayatollah Khomeini. "It is the GREAT SATAN SPECIAL! I demand you have it!"
"Tofu? I'd rather eat vomit," Marty commented, making a face.
"Tofu isn't that bad, Marty," Mysteria lectured. "I've had it before. It absorbs flavor from the surrounding foods." She paused. "Although that combination could turn anybody off tofu," she amended, shuddering.
"Do you serve anything that won't set our throats on fire?" asked Jennifer, finding her voice.
"We have a sale on spageturgers," Ronnie said. The Ayatollah tried to get in front of him.
"Our most popular item! Spaghetti and meatballs in a patty on a bun! HAVE IT!"
"Excuse me, they need a waiter," Doc said roughly to the Ayatollah, pointing to some customers. The vidwaiter backed off. "They gang up on you if you don't do that sort of thing," he told his friends. "I was besieged by them on my first visit. Well, what do you think, kids?"
"They sound better than the tofu," Marty said.
"Sure, I'll give them a whirl," Jennifer shrugged.
"Okay, 4 spageturgers and 2 Pepsis," Doc ordered for them. The vidwaiter nodded and rolled off, presumably to fetch the food. As it did, 2 Pepsi Perfects popped out of special circular places on the counter. The teens each grabbed one, watching as the delivery containers sank back into the counter.
"Why 4?" Mystie asked quietly as they sat down in a row. "We don't eat."
"Yes, but we'll be less conspicuous with food in front of us. Anyways, who says we can't at least chew some bites and spit them out?" Mystie nodded, pleased. "God, it seems like I was just in here yesterday."
"Well, 3 days ago, you were," Marty said, unable to resist.
"Sort of," Doc nodded. "The future I didn't change. I still remember the shock I got when 'you' walked in, Marty."
"Does my son really look that much like me?"
"You bet. But the version I met had inherited your father's personality. I wonder if the new version is still like that."
"I hope not. Or, at least, I hope he's like the George that knocked Biff out with one punch. Twice!"
"Pardon, Marty?" Mystie said, puzzled. "I always thought he just did that once, and Biff left him alone after that."
"Sort of. He still called him names until 1956. Then he tried to steal Dad's bike, they got into a scuffle, and George knocked him out again. Dad said he never recovered after that."
"Little did your father know Biff was nursing a grudge that wouldn't die," Doc sighed. "I wonder how he met the soulless vampires and decided on using them to get back at the world?"
"Beats me."
Reagan returned carrying the 4 sandwiches. "That will be $600 and 43 cents," he said. "Pay whenever you're ready." He waited as they claimed their food and rolled off.
"600 bucks!?" Jennifer gasped.
"My first lunch here cost $150," Doc shrugged. "Imagine what it might cost if they weren't having a sale." He pulled out his money and counted out $600 and 43 cents, then fed the bills into a payment machine on the counter. It beeped. "Please deposit $10 more as a handling surcharge."
"Right, the surcharge," Doc remembered, giving it a $10.
"Surcharge?" Mystie asked. "Like a tax?"
"I would think so. Most business transactions are done with your thumbprint. It allows you to automatically transfer funds from your bank account. That's why I didn't want you to touch anything. If your fingerprints were scanned, it could raise some nasty questions."
"Good thing we didn't donate anything to the Clock Tower," Jennifer said in relief. She idly took a bite of her sandwich and glanced out the windowed front. Marty was making his way to the-
The teen immediately choked. "Oh, no!"
Marty patted her on the back. "Jennifer! Are you okay?"
"He can't be early!" Doc said, automatically checking his watch.
"No, it's not Biff! There's somebody who looks just like Marty heading straight for the door!" Jennifer said frantically.
Doc, shocked, looked outside. "Damn! It's your son, Marty Junior! I didn't even think to factor him in while making our plans for today."
Marty looked around desperately. "Dammit, I need to hide!" Seeing no available corners or bathrooms, he vaulted over the counter and ducked down.
A moment later, Marty Junior came in. Doc was pleased to see that his clothes all fit and were clean. Also, unlike the first Marty Junior, he had an air of confidence. "Pepsi Perfect," he informed a nearby vidwaiter, pressing his thumb to a payment plate. The requested drink popped out of the counter. Marty Junior retrieved it, then noticed the 3 Time Trippers still on the right side of the counter. "Oh, hey Doc, hey Mystie. I thought you were back at the house."
"Just dropped by for some atmosphere," Doc fibbed. "How are you?"
"Okay. What's with the food?"
"So nobody gets confused," Mystie said.
Marty Junior accepted this and smiled over at Jennifer. "Hi Mom, I-"
Suddenly his eyes went wide as he realized his mother was his age. In a minute, his face ran the range of emotions from disbelief, to skepticism, to confusion, to an understanding. "Oh. Weird. Sorry, you look a little like my mother." He glanced around, then leaned in towards Doc. "Is - uh - Dad here?"
Marty waved at him from behind the counter. Marty Junior blinked, surprised. "We panicked when we saw you," Doc confessed. "After all, it would look strange to see 2 Marty Juniors in the same place."
Marty Junior nodded in agreement, but peeked over the counter anyway. The two teens stared at each other. Marty Junior wasn't the exact twin Marty had been expecting. His hair was darker, a little more like Jennifer's shade. His eyes were a strange shade of blue-brown. And, of course, their outfits varied slightly; Marty Junior wore a green shirt as opposed to Marty's favorite red. Still, it was a close enough resemblance to warrant Marty remaining where he was.
Marty Junior shook his head. "Zoned out," he muttered.
"Huh?"
"I think the term in the 80s would be 'freaky'," Marty Junior clarified. "Boy, really zoned out. It's hard to see you as anyone but Dad, - Marty."
"Believe me, I can relate," Marty said, nodding. "I told you that story, right?"
"Yeah, I know all about time travel. This feels like reliving that story, meeting you at 17."
"18," Marty corrected. "It's my birthday back in 1986."
"Oh." Marty Junior glanced at the group. "Why are you guys here? You would have told me immediately about any trips to the future. If I'd known, I wouldn't have come here."
Doc frowned. "You're saying our future selves don't remember us coming here? That's odd, you think we would remember this trip very clearly. We're tracking Biff Tannen."
"Tannen? As in Griff Tannen?"
"Who's Griff?" asked Jennifer, puzzled.
"Biff's grandson," Doc said. "Is he still bullying you, Marty Junior?"
"Sometimes. I don't let it get to me," Marty Junior replied, slipping into a seat beside them. "I know about the trip, but you never mentioned coming to today. In fact, I haven't a clue to why Biff would come to today. He's dead, and Jiff must have some sort of recessive gene, because he's a recluse, not a bully. Griff, though - Speak of the devil. . . ."
The Time Trippers looked out the Cafe's glass front. Landing outside the eatery was a black and red roadster, occupied by 3 boys and 1 girl. Doc immediately recognized the driver, a teenager the spitting image of a young Biff Tannen. "Oh, wonderful. Just what we need. More Tannens."
"Why is he acting like that?" Mystie wondered, watching as Griff and his gang exited the car. Griff was moving a bit spasmodically, blinking his eyes a lot.
"Illegal bionics," Marty Junior confided. "He's got a ton of implants, and practically every one of them is malfunctioning. His brain is literally short-circuiting. In fact, the only one of those jerks with functioning bionics is Data - that kid on the left wearing a computer chest shield."
"Pleasant," Marty remarked from his position.
Griff and his gang barged into the cafe, shoving aside some younger kids, who protested loudly. "Hey, McFly!"
Marty Junior glanced at him. "Griff," he replied, sounding like this scene had happened 5 million times before.
"I thought I told you never to come in here." Griff moved closer, strange semi-electronic noises accompanying his every move.
"You don't own the place, Griff," Marty Junior said, pressing a button on the front of his Pepsi Perfect. The top flipped back and a straw unfolded. Marty Junior took a sip, ignoring Griff glaring at him.
The Ayatollah returned, having spotted the new customers. "Welcome to the Cafe 80s, Great Satan devils! I demand-"
"Buzz off! I'll order when I'm damn well ready, you robo!" Griff snarled. The Ayatollah sped off. The teen and his gang turned their attention to the 3 visible Time Trippers. "Well, if it ain't the crazy Browns. Haven't your experiments mutated you yet, lobo?"
"Maybe they have, maybe they haven't. I'll never tell," Doc said, meeting Griff's glare with an icy gaze.
"Who are you to talk, anyways?" Mysteria inquired. "You look pretty mutated yourself."
Griff jerked his spiked-capped head to look at her. "Yeah? You married him. You're as low-res as he is, bojo."
"At least all my parts function properly." Mystie took out her blood bottle and started sipping.
"What is that stuff?" the gang member Marty Junior had identified as Data demanded. "It's got all these funny proteins in it. I can tell."
"If you must know, it's a special drink that combats her skin disease," Doc said, keeping his icy glare on full power.
As Data began to fidget, Griff said, "Forget 'em. Anything named Brown is hopeless. They're all zoned out low-res maxholes." He turned his attention back to Marty Junior, who was about to start eating Marty's sandwich. Smiling, he shoved him forward, causing him to drop the sandwich over the counter, right into Marty's hands. Both McFlys smiled involuntarily, completely confusing Griff.
"What are you, sado-macho?" he asked?
"I wouldn't doubt it, judging by his parents' friends," an Oriental kid snapped.
Griff decided not to wait for Marty Junior's affirmation or denial. He leaned in close, flexing a fist. "So, McFly, you make a decision about tonight's - opportunity?"
"The answer is no, as always," Marty Junior replied. "Go download a new one, will ya?"
The female gang member approached him. She ran a very sharp-looking nail extension along his face. "What's wrong, McFly?" she purred dangerously. "You got no scroat?"
"I've got better things to do with my time than land myself in jail. Remember your 'wicked withdrawal' scheme from 3 days ago? If the police sirens hadn't frightened you away and your dad hadn't paid for the damage, you'd be sitting in prison. No, thanks."
"I'd like to know what those better things are," mocked the Oriental kid, with a red goatee and a pierced ear. "Hanging around with these numpers?" He aimed a kick at Doc's leg, but missed due to the vampire's reflexes.
Marty Junior's eyes narrowed. "Doc and Mystie are practically my family," he growled, one hand forming a loose fist. "And knocking out Tannens seems to be in my blood. I don't want to fight you or your gang, Griff, but if I have to, I will."
Doc smiled at Marty Junior. "I'm very impressed, Marty," he thought to his teenage friend. "You obviously make a very good father. Marty Junior has the perfect combination of good sense and temper."
"The kid definitely has spunk," Marty thought proudly. "I always knew any kid of mine could take on a Tannen."
Griff seemed ready to take Marty Junior up on his offer, then noticed a policewoman's bike outside. He shook his head. "I don't want to bust my bionics on a skull like yours. Your loss, McFly." He jerked his head, indicating his gang to follow him. "Let's get away from these lobos." They went to a booth, Griff yelling for a waiter."
Once they were safely out of earshot, Jennifer permitted herself to look confused. "What did all those terms mean?" she asked.
"I'm assuming they're all new swear words," Doc said. "But I never heard 'download a new one' before."
"It means 'go bug somebody else'. And a lot of them are variations on 'loser'. 'Numper' is the bad one, though. It means-" Marty Junior grimaced and blushed. "-F'er."
Jennifer looked furious, but Doc and Mystie didn't seem as perturbed. "I've been called worse," Doc said, unscrewing the cap of his own bottle of blood. "Not a week goes by without someone telling me exactly what they think of me."
"Me too," Mystie sighed, sipping her blood. "Most of my life."
"Did they even have swear words back when you were born?" Marty gently teased. "You know, these spageturger things are actually pretty good."
"No, but they did have witch trials," Mystie said, a pained look coming over her face. "I had the unfortunate luck of being in Andover, Mass., in 1692, not too long after I was Changed. I was the last of those unlucky 40 who had warrants signed against them. I spent 3 months in a jail, too afraid of being killed instantly if I tried to break out. At least my fellow prisoners didn't let me go hungry. Tituba was a definite dear, and Sarah Goode. . .oh, God, I've never met anyone as fiesty."
"Okay, I agree. Way worse," Jennifer agreed.
"Not one of my fonder memories. Ranks down there with the McCarthy trials."
Doc glanced at his watches. "Great Scott, 1: 00 already! In a half-hour's time, we'll have caught up to our dangerous time-traveler."
"I know. I think Tannens are direct evidence against evolution. Do you have idea why Biff would come here? I think he'd stay in the past."
"Curiosity comes to mind," Doc said. "But he must have a darker purpose too. I really shouldn't ask this, but are you ever troubled by soulless vampires?"
"No. I don't think there's - Forget I said that!"
"Too late," Jennifer beamed. "Great, we win. But I'm still puzzled as to why we wouldn't remember today in the future."
"My theory is that our past is happening in the future," Doc said, none too clearly.
"English, Doc."
"Well, try looking at it from the opposite perspective. Suppose that I became trapped in 1948. I'd live out my future in the past. Same idea here. We - the past - are creating memories here - the future."
Jennifer and Mystie still looked lost. Marty abruptly spoke up. "You're saying that until we do something here, our future selves won't remember us doing it on this date. We're making up memories as we go along right now."
"Right, Mar - Wait a minute, you never understand when I explain something like that."
"Oh, shit, it's happening again," Marty moaned. "I'm thinking like you. Do you know what happened before we met up again? I started lecturing Jennifer just like you would lecture me!"
Doc was amazed. "Really? It must be a side effect of having a mental connection with me. When we get home, do you want me to shut down my end for a few days?"
"I dunno, Doc. I simply don't know."
A noise from outside caught everyone's attention. They turned to see a Cadillac driving itself into a parking space, right beside Griff's car. Astonished, Doc nudged Mystie. "Great Scott! If I see correctly, that's Nick Knight's Caddy!"
Mystie eye's brightened! "Wow, it is! I never thought we'd get to see one of those in the flesh. But somebody's been messing with it. It's got a bunch of strange-looking coils on it and vents in the back."
Marty Junior seemed a little agitated. "Listen, I know the people in that car. I'd better talk to them before they come in." He got up, just as the couple in the car entered the cafe.
Jennifer gave a yelp of surprise. The female half of the couple bore a striking resemblance to Marty! The only differences were her sex and her hair color; her's was more honey in color. There was no doubt in the teen's mind this was her and Marty's daughter. "Holy cow!"
The female Marty looked at her and gave her own yelp. "What the-"
"Marlene, we need to talk," Marty Junior said hurriedly. "You too, Jules."
The male by Marlene's side gave Junior a puzzled look. He appeared to be a little older than the McFly kids, but not by much. Judging from the keys hanging from a loop attached to his inside-out jeans, he was also the owner of the Caddy. Doc regarded him with interest. There was something vaguely familiar about his dark brown eyes and pitch black hair. He just couldn't put his finger on it. "What are you talking about, Marty? I just want to say hi to D-"
Marty Junior drew his finger across his throat rapidly, an intensely worried expression on his face. "Over here. Believe me, it's really important." He herded his sister and her boyfriend into a corner, then looked at the vampires and took them outside.
Jennifer transferred her stare to Doc. "You never told us we had a daughter too!"
"You didn't ask," Doc said logically, drinking another drought of blood. "I wanted you to stay in the dark about your personal futures, and that included your children. But, since the damage has been done, I feel it's safe to tell you that, to my knowledge, there are only the two."
"How could knowing we have 2 kids do anything to us?" Jennifer asked, then immediately answered it. "Wait a minute, parenthood paranoia. . . ."
"Now you're thinking 4th dimensionally," Doc praised. "You'll be scared to death whenever anything happens to your children. You know that if they're hurt and can't come find us today, we could have a potential paradox."
"I guess you'll have to play around with our memories," Marty said sadly.
"We'll see. I'm more concerned with Biff at the present."
The future teens returned, Marty Junior apparently satisfied with whatever warning he had given them. Marlene gave Jennifer a nervous smile. "Hi, miss," she said politely. "I haven't seen you in Hill Valley before. What's your name?"
It was all Jennifer could do to keep from bursting into hysterical giggles. "Lucy. Lucy Smith," she introduced herself. "I'm here visiting colleges." She nodded towards a stunned Jules. "Your boyfriend?"
Marlene and Jules smiled sappily at one another. "Yeah. Jules is the best guy a girl could have. We've known each other ever since we were little."
"I'll have to be on the lookout," Jennifer said. "You can relax, Marlene, I'm not going to bite. I know it's probably a shock, but didn't we let you around the time machine?"
Marlene relaxed. "Of course. You can expect some adventures with us." Noticing Doc's worried glance towards Jules, she reassured him. "Jules knows too, Doc. Everything's cool with him."
Doc nodded, knowing his future self could take care of any unwanted memories in case of a break-up. "That's a prodigious car you have," he complimented Jules. "Are you a 'Forever Knight' fan like ourselves?"
"You bet, but the car's actually my dad's. He's letting me borrow it."
"Oh. Well, tell him he has a wonderful car, but he should take those strange-looking vents off," Mystie said, tilting her head. Jules seemed a bit uncomfortable around them. Even weirder, he was shielding his thoughts in some way, making her unable to read his mind. "I wonder. . . . Nah. That's wishful thinking, Mysteria." "Why so nervous?"
Jules smiled blandly. "Let's just say you'll find out."
"I think we already have," Doc said, having recognized a vampire scent. "There's no need to be afraid of us. We're vampires just like you, you should know that."
It's not the vampire bit, it's seeing you and knowing you're younger. I've been on a few time trips, but we've never bumped into any past selves. Our problems seem to be of a different sort."
"Don't tell me," Doc warned. "No man - oh, hell, you know the drill, I'm sure."
Jules laughed, visibly calming. "You're definitely Doc." Doc detected the slightest hesitation before his name. "Marty Junior told us what's up. Sounds bad."
"It is bad." Doc glanced at his watch. "In fact, it officially reached the crisis point. Biff has arrived."
Jennifer had a nasty thought. "Hey, do any of you know if those woods around the lake are still there? Biff's time machine always shows up there. I don't want him in a neighborhood, what if he appears right where a person is standing?"
"They're still there, Jennifer. A little smaller, but a national park. Too bad from my point of view - he could have been hit by a car."
"No luck, as usual," Mystie said. "Listen, kids. We need help. In both 1885 and 1955, we had really close calls, and I think we'd all like to avoid another. We would all be grateful if you lent us a hand. After all, you grew up in the future. You know it better than we do."
Marty Junior grinned. "I've got a better idea. Why don't you guys help yourselves? Our mom and dad and your future versions know a lot more about time travel and dealing with Tannens. Griff's bark is worse than his bite, at least when it comes to us. And we've never been on a completely solo time trip. One of you always comes with us." Doc thought he could hear faint annoyance flavoring the teen's tone. "We can take you right to the house."
"No! Absolutely not!" Doc said firmly, shutting out Marty's mental protests. "It goes against all my time travel principles. The future must remain unknown. I know that from bitter experience."
"But Doc, you lived for 30 years knowing what would happen to you!" Marty complained. "You'd be a major-league hypocrite if you didn't let us see. And don't forget, you can erase our memories."
"Yeah, Doc, which would be worse?" Jules argued. "To know something about your future? Or to have Biff succeed here in whatever he's doing and being caught in an evil plan completely off guard?"
"C'mon, Doc," Jennifer begged.
"Emmett, you're not going to win," Mystie said.
Doc knew when to admit defeat. Stopping Biff's temporal mischief had to be their top priority. "All right. Lead the way, kids. Maybe you're right, and our future selves will have just the knowledge we need."
Saturday, October 24th
1: 50 P. M.
Biff Tannen made a solemn vow that, as soon as he finished, he would put wheels on VAMPIS. His feet were aching like crazy from having to walk everywhere. Sighing with relief as he found a road, he stuck out his thumb for a ride.
A wild-looking red and black car drove up beside him. "Hey, low-res! What happened to your car?" one of the passengers, a girl, called.
"Only numpers and tranks walk!" another mocked.
"Were you on a picnic with all the animals?" an oddly familiar voice teased.
Oddly familiar? In the future?
Biff looked at his teen tormentors. The driver of the car looked a lot like him, circa 1955! Unable to help himself, he blurted, "Are you related to me?"
The driver snorted. "How could I be related to a bojo like you?" he asked, blinking his eyes.
"What's your name, then?"
"Griff Tannen. Me and my gang are the biggest superflies in Hill Valley."
"Super-whats?"
"In what century have you been living?" the girl demanded.
"The 20th," Biff said, too amazed to lie. "Griff, your dad's name wouldn't happen to be Jiff, would it?"
Griff looked a little surprised. "Yeah? How'd you know, if you're so virused?"
Biff decided, "What the hell. He's family." "'Cause I'm your grandpop, Griff. I'm Biff Tannen."
Griff stared at him a moment, then laughed hysterically. "You? My gramps? Gramps has been dead for years!"
This wasn't news Biff wanted to hear. "Then I definitely need a lift. I gotta talk to you and Jiff. It's about those butt-heads the McFlys and the Browns."
Griff appeared to get a bit interested. "What about them? They're the most low-res lobos on the planet."
"How to get rid of them." Biff's lips curled in that familiar Tannen smirk. "I'm gonna give you power, Griff. Power beyond your wildest dreams. All I need is a ride to your house."
Griff was either easily persuaded or figured Biff wouldn't go away if he didn't give in. "Well, hop in, 'Gramps'," he said, sarcasm heavily flavoring the last word. Biff climbed in. The car took off, flying up the street into a residential area. Griff stopped the car in front of an unassuming white house. "This is my place. Let's go, 'Gramps'."
They headed up to the front door. Griff pressed his thumb to a plate by the door. Seconds later, the door whooshed open with a cheerful, "Welcome home, Griff." A man sitting on the couch inside got up at the greeting. Glaring, he said, "Griff, if you're-"
The words died in his throat as he saw Biff. Biff felt a similar shock as he recognized his son, Jiff, now age 49. He, too, resembled Biff, only with redder hair and brown eyes. Jiff gawked for a moment, then finally stammered, "D-Dad?"
And all the color drained from Griff's face.