Chapter 2
Wednesday, October 21st, 2015
Hill Valley
2: 30 A. M.
For a moment, as his vision cleared, Doc thought the machine had malfunctioned. Nothing in Lyon Estates looked different at first. Then his eye caught a fence made up of glowing posts around a house. Other buildings had additions he had never seen before, and in the weak light, it looked like none of the front doors had doorknobs. It was the future, all right. The scientist looked excitedly at Einstein. "We did it, boy! We made it! This is the year 2015! We're the first people to ever pass through the space-time continuum and arrive in the future!"
Einstein just yawned and settled himself on the passenger seat. Doc sighed. "Maybe I should have asked Marty if he wanted to come. Show some excitement, Einy."
As he slowed the car, he heard the soft wail of police sirens nearby. He looked out both windows and in the rearview mirror, but could see no police cars. What was even stranger was that the noise seemed to be coming from overhead. On a whim, he stuck his head out the window and looked up.
There was the belly of a very futuristic-looking car passing over him. It didn't even seem to have any wheels at first, just propulsion jets that allowed it to fly. As it landed, however, Doc saw the jets stop and fold up into normal street wheels. He marveled at the sight. "Flying cars. Fascinating." A brainstorm hitting, he added mentally, "Just perfect for time travel!"
A female police officer with blond hair emerged from the cruiser and approached his vehicle. "Evening sir. That's a very nice car you have there," she whistled, admiring the time machine. "A vintage 1982 DeLorean. You must be rich, these things run, in poor condition, around 6 mil!"
Doc blinked, astonished at how valuable DeLoreans had become. "Well, I've had this car since the 80s," he explained. "I'm an inventor. I use the car for various fuel experiments."
"Ah. Well, we pulled you over because we heard a really loud triple boom in the neighborhood. That's not exactly usual late at night. Was that you?"
"Yes, I'm very sorry. The engine's been acting up," Doc semi-lied. "I'll get it repaired as soon as possible. I've been meaning to get this vehicle into the air for a while now. I'll just have the mechanics look at that too, Officer-" he squinted to read her electronic name tag on her hatband"-Reese."
"Fine by me. Let me just get you identified for our records." She reached down into her overladen toolbelt and pulled free a simple silver box with a plate on the side. "Just press your thumb to the plate."
Curious, Doc did just that. The machine beeped, then recited his vital statistics in a cool mechanical voice. "Brown, Dr. Emmett Lathrop. Age: 93. Date of Birth: October 22nd, 1921. Current Address: 27943 West Oak Lane. Arrests: None. Warrants: None. Convictions: None. Current stop is for?"
Reese had gone very white upon hearing his name, for some reason. She looked at him, then at the machine, then at him. She shook her head, obviously incredulous. "I keep telling the chief we have to update the system," she muttered cryptically. "Er - just follow this road into town, Dr. Brown. A motel should be available for you and your dog. And remember to get your car looked at, please."
Doc, still wondering at the advances made in police work and fingerprinting, shook himself out of his trance. "Huh? Oh, of course, Officer," he nodded. He couldn't help but feel a bit spooked at the way she was looking at him. "Thank you for the directions." He nodded a goodbye and drove off.
Reese flopped back into the driver's seat of her car. "Who was it?" her partner, Lucy Foley, asked, noting Reese's troubled face. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Jaime."
Reese swallowed hard. "If you believe the PrintBox - that man was my great-uncle Emmett."
Wednesday, October 21st
6: 04 A. M.
Doc hopped forward a few hours before entering the Town Square. He was so excited by being in the future that sleep was no longer an option for him. As he pulled into the street, he noted a few other cars doing the same. The only difference is that they came down from a highway in the air, aided by a ramp. Doc smiled expectantly as he thought about being able to do that.
He returned his attention earthward, gawking at everything. The Town Square had come alive again, bursting with new businesses. In various places around the square, he caught sight of a cosmetic surgery store, Bottoms Up; a telephone store, Verizon TV ("huh?"); a health spa or club called a RevitaClinic, a 'vidbook' store with the sign "Reissue of the classic A Match Made in Space!" ("Great Scott, George just wrote that!), the Statler dealership, now in Hondas; and the place he was looking for - a garage with the name Goldie Wilson III Mechanics.
Doc turned towards the garage, but instead of driving directly in, he parked in a nearby alley instead. Making sure no one was paying attention to him, he carefully unhooked all the time machine specific parts. He didn't want any of them damaged by his upgrade, or worse, for anyone to guess the car's secret. Once he was satisfied they were inoperable, he entered the garage.
A young man in multicolored pants and a green shirt with a plus and minus on it greeted him. "Welcome to Goldie Wilson III's Mechanics. Hover Conversions, Basic Repairs, or Other?"
Doc considered the question a moment. "I want a hover conversion, but my engine has been acting up too. What department is that?"
"Hover Conversions. They'll have to look at your engine anyway." He ran an appreciative eye over the DeLorean. "That is one nice car. But what's all this funny-looking junk on it?"
"Don't touch anything," Doc warned sternly. "I'm an inventor. I'm experimenting with power devices."
"Why don't you just get a Mr. Fusion for the car?" the guy asked. "Provides up to 2 full gigawatts of power if you fill it up with enough shit."
Doc was liking the future better and better. "I don't know, how much are they? My experiments use up most of my money."
"Ah, there's a bunch of different ones. Drive up to the Hover Conversions level and they'll show you. Up that ramp, bear left, then up the other ramp."
"Thank you." Doc drove up into a service bay, filled with a number of cars. The scientist did a double take as he spotted an Edsel among the crowd. A female and a male mechanic came over, admiring the car as everyone else had. "Nice DeLorean."
"Thank you. Be careful, those are delicate, and may be very hot at the moment."
"What are they?" the woman asked, studying the blue coils on the sides of the car.
"Power dispersal coils. I'm an inventor by trade, and I think it's the perfect time to give my experimental car an upgrade. I would like a hover conversion, an engine readjustment to improve performance, and, if my current budget allows for it, a Mr. Fusion."
"Certainly, sir. Step out of the car and come over here."
Doc did so, warning the mechanics who appeared on the scene not to disturb anything that looked unfamiliar. A rack of odd-looking machine slid out of the wall as the female mechanic pressed a button. "Here's the standard model, the power capacitor built right into the lid. This is the new double power model, it's capable of 4 gigawatts of power. This is the smaller, less conspicuous model, it's become a very popular seller. I think Fusion Industries is working on a recessed model, but that won't be coming out for a while."
"I don't want to spend too much, so standard will do just fine," Doc said, although he looked longingly at the smaller model. "Damn, if I had more money to spend. . . ."
"All right, sir. Just sign here, and we'll have your car ready in about 4 to 6 hours." She offered him an electronic clipboard. "Just say your name into that box there."
Doc very nearly said his real name, but decided against it at the last second. It wouldn't do to cause any confusion with his older self. "If I have one," he remembered mentally. "Hopefully my genetic structure allows for a long lifespan. Great Scott, 93 years old! Wait - 94; tomorrow is my birthday in this time period. Simply amazing." "Dr. Michael Lloyd," he said instead.
"Thank you, Dr. Lloyd." She and her fellow mechanics turned their attention to his car. Doc whistled for Einstein to get out. The mutt did, but immediately lay down again, whining. Feeling bad for his loyal pet, Doc went over and picked him up, grunting as he did so. "You need to lose some weight, boy. Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to know of a kennel where I could keep my dog?" Hearing his stomach growl, he added, "And of a good place to get breakfast?"
"Yeah, there's a kennel just up the street. And if you want a good deal on a breakfast, catch a cab to Retro B & B. Terrific pancakes, and they don't take an arm and a leg."
"I will, thank you." Doc found an elevator and took it back down to the ground floor, mentally organizing a list of things to do. As he left the drive-in area, he noticed a dollar bill on the ground. He picked it up and noted with dismay that 2015 paper cash looked much different from his regular 1985 money. "All right then. First, get Einstein to the kennel so the poor dog can catch up on his sleep. Then I'll figure out this new dilemma with my money." Sighing and pocketing the new bill, he carried his sleepy dog over to the kennel, killing his arms in the process.
To his surprise, it wasn't a human who greeted him this time. Sitting on the desk was what appeared to be a large, flat screen of some sort. A young woman's face was on it, computer-generated but very life-like. She smiled at Doc as he stared at her. "Welcome to Kerri's Kennels, sir. How are you today?"
"I'm - I'm fine, thank you," Doc said, studying the screen. "How are you?" The minute he said it, he felt dumb. Here he was, asking what appeared to be a computer how it was.
The CGI girl didn't seem bothered. "I'm okay, thank you for asking. You look a little unnerved though, sir."
"I was expecting a human," Doc admitted, still marvelling.
"The normal human staff is on vacation, but I usually handle this anyway," CGI explained. Doc nodded, highly impressed by her human qualities. "I should pick up a computer her and hide it somewhere at home."
"All right. I would like to leave my dog here for a few hours. It's my first time in Hill Valley, and I'd like to look around," Doc fibbed. "Normally I'd take - Joey-" Einstein barked and looked at him "-but we've had a long night, and I'm sure he'd prefer to get some sleep."
"Okay," CGI nodded. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"
"Most likely I'll pick him up tonight," Doc said, seeing a sub-screen pop up under CGI's face with the desired information being entered. "My name is Dr. Michael Lloyd." He patted Einstein.
"And what sort of pen do you want? Standard suspended animation or something a bit more fancy?"
Doc had the good sense not to look surprised at the phrase 'suspended animation'. "I don't have much to spend, so I had better take the standard."
"That's fine. Joey will be in S. A. Pen 5. He won't even know you're gone. When you come back, just give me your name and the pen number. It's $100 an hour, just so you know."
Doc felt his heartbeat speed up a bit. "Uh-oh. I didn't count on things being that expensive. And considering all I have to do. . . ." He swallowed and nodded. "Okay." He ruffled Einstein's fur. "Goodbye, boy. Have a nice nap." Einstein licked his fingers. Doc gave him a final pat as CGI called for 'Gloria'. Doc was amused to see Gloria looked like a bit like a metal E. T. with treads, arms, a wig, and synthetic skin. The robot picked up Einy and carried him away. Thanking CGI, he left the kennel.
Once outside, he pulled out the dollar he'd found. "Damn. I wonder if there's a bank around here that does exchanges," he mumbled, looking around the jazzed - up square.
His attention was distracted by the courthouse. He hadn't immediately noticed it when he had first arrived, but now he could see it had really changed. The front was smoked glass, and a new sign proclaimed it was now a mall! The parking lot had metamorphosed into a park, complete with a crystal clear pond. According to a rather large stairwell leading underneath, this was the roof of the rest of the new mall. Doc had to smile when he saw their logo - lightning hitting a clock. "God, that seems like yesterday, not 30 - 60? - years ago. Time certainly does fly."
His interest aroused, he looked at the clock tower atop the courthouse. That was still the same, mostly. Doc noted with a grin the piece of the ledge he had accidentally broke off was still missing. The clock itself was still stuck, but now covered by a piece of protective plastic. "That must have cost a pretty penny."
The thought reminded Doc of his current problem. Scanning the square again, he spotted a store named Blast From The Past. He walked over and entered. As he had guessed from the name, they were an antique store, and they had quite a selection. Some of the stuff the scientist didn't recognize at all ("Who the heck is Harry Potter?"), but most of it was familiar. For some reason, that made him feel very old.
"May I help you?" a voice asked. Doc turned to see a woman in a rather clown-like yellow shirt with brightly colored buttons and earrings and finger rings to match. From what he'd seen of future fashions, his ensemble of Hawaiian shirt and cargo pants was starting to look normal. "Are you looking to buy or sell? We take everything prior to 1999."
"Well, I have a rather large sum of cash from the 1980s," Doc started, pulling out his $8,000. The woman's eyes glowed. "I was wondering if you would like to purchase it from me."
"Oh, I'm always looking for antique bills," the woman said, happily taking the money from Doc and rifling through it. "I'm something of a collector. Antique money fascinates me." She held a $20 up to the light. "Amazing, simply amazing." She continued skimming through the large stack. "Okay, mostly series 83 to 85, all in extremely good condition too. . . . You wouldn't happen to have any change from this era?"
"Uh, yes." Doc reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of spare change. The woman grinned widely and examined them. "I haven't seen a quarter since 2011," she said, taking them. "Especially not the ones with the eagles on the backs. Well, this would certainly be a great addition to my collection, at the least." She picked a small device up off the desk and began typing things into it. "If you'd press your thumb to the plate here, I can transfer the money right into your banking account."
Doc thought fast. "I'd prefer to have it in cash." The clerk gave him a strange look. "I've made some bad investment decisions in the past. My credit rating is getting low."
"Going into yellow zone, huh?" Doc nodded, relieved his excuse made sense to her. "No problem, I get requests like that from time to time. Just a moment." She calculated an amount on her device. "The total is $1.5 million for all of it."
Doc could have jumped for joy. He managed to restrain himself and said as causally as he could, "Great Scott. I wasn't aware 80s money would be so valuable."
"Where have you been? This is the 'I Love The 80s' decade!" the woman laughed, handing him his newfound wealth. "Naturally, people want anything from then - myself included. I'm surprised you're selling."
"Like I said, bad investments," Doc shrugged, splitting the massive amount up into separate pockets. "Thanks a lot."
"You're very welcome. Stop by anytime if you have anything else to sell." The woman joyously took her new paper into the back room. Doc whistled a tune as he left the store and headed for the Courthouse Mall. He had some purchases to make.