TWO
July 17, 1986 9:00 A.M.
"Be careful with that end of the engine, Marty, I can't afford to have any damage inflicted on it before the judging," Dr. Emmett L. Brown told his associate as they unloaded his new fuel cell motor from the back of his truck outside the Fort Lauderdale Convention Center.
"Don't worry, Doc, it's not that heavy," Marty McFly told his mentor, "You know, I think we've got a good chance of winning first place with this."
"Winning isn't important here, Marty, but if we can convince enough of the judges that fusion is the way of the future, maybe we might be able to get less oil on the road and safer fuels into our cars in the very near future," Doc said, "And especially in the next decade with the..." He stopped short and shook his head, not willing to give away too much of the future. Marty was all too aware of this complex in his friend; he'd been all over the space-time continuum and had seen everything, but owing to his desire not to let out too much about the future was reluctant to disclose much of what he'd seen. No matter. Marty was just glad to have him back. He'd returned about two months ago, ready to resume the normal life he'd been living before he'd discovered time travel. He'd needed enough of a padding of time to allow people to assume he'd met Clara in New Jersey and had a quick marriage and had adopted her kids.
"You know Doc, it's a shame we can't tell anyone about how we discovered time travel," he told his mentor as they entered the building.
"I suppose part of it is, Marty, but if we were to, then everyone would be clamoring for us to duplicate that technology, and it would be used conceivably for uncouth purposes," Doc told him. "You yourself saw what could have happened with Biff's Hell Valley."
"I know, Doc, but it's a shame we can't share it with anyone," Marty said, "I'm sure a lot of the people in here would be interested that you're not just a crackpot."
Doc merely forced a smile. The convention center was packed to the roof with some of the nation's best scientists, all vying for the Thomas A. Edison Invention of the Year Award. While Doc had reservations about revealing or tampering with the future, he'd been quite interested in continuing his inventing streak with the fusion technology he'd witnessed in the future, saying it would be better for mankind's fate. As it wasn't directly based on anyone else's research, and he was sure it wouldn't be the best invention at the Convention, which he'd attended some years ago for a stretch, he was quite willing to give it a go.
"You go put the motor in its section, Marty," the scientist told his friend as they approached the front desk, "I'll go book us in. We're in number 5B, which is about two rows down from here if I'm not mistaken from my last trip here."
"Right, catch you later, Doc," Marty immediately regretted agreeing to this, as the motor was extremely heavy to be carried by just one person. He staggered around the convention center floor, nearly colliding with several other hopeful scientists, until he finally reached the pedestal on which their creation would rest until judging was complete two days from now. Dropping it into place, he'd stopped to wipe his brow. He was hoping they'd do well. Doc had been looking forward to making a comeback in the scientific community ever since he'd been laughed clean off the floor at the last convention he'd gone to in 1974 for disclosing his theories on time travel. He'd spent the last four months putting it together, with a little help from Jules and Verne, along with Jennifer whenever she could get spare time. The old man had come back to life again while he was building it, and Marty was praying that all that hard work hadn't been for nothing.
He glanced around at some of the nearer exhibits. A lot of them seemed to be computer-related, he thought. A few displays to the right dealt with robotics; some creepy spider-like things were crawling around to the amusement of several judges. And three displays over was a guy showing of some kind of cordless phone you could put in your pocket. But the one thing that caught Marty's attention most was a strange ray-like thing two displays down in the row across from the one the fusion engine was in. He strode over and examined it. Steam hissed from it, and it was covered with all sorts of glowing lights and displays, much like several of Doc's past creations. "Neat," he said.
"My dad built it in his attic," came a kid's voice behind him. Marty turned to find himself looking at a bespectacled kid of about ten who looked much like what he'd always imagined Doc looking like at ten. "Well, he seems to have done a good job, kid," he told the youngster, "What exactly does it do?"
"Nick, where are the apples for the display?" a girl who Marty thought was almost—almost—as attractive as Jennifer asked, striding over to the kid.
"I gave them to you, Amy," the boy protested.
"No you didn't," she told him, "They were right here a minute ago." She noticed Marty was watching. "You didn't taken them, did you?" she asked him suspiciously.
"No, I've just been watching," Marty said quickly, turning out his pockets to prove his innocence.
"Any luck?" asked the children's father, whom Marty noticed was pretty much an older version of his son.
"No Dad," the girl told him, I couldn't find them anywhere."
"Marty," Doc called from the top of the aisle, several forms in his hand.
"Over here, Doc," Marty called to him. The scientist ran over. "I thought I told you not to leave..." he started to say, but then noticed the man. "Wayne Szelinski!" he exclaimed, "My old pupil!"
"Doctor Brown," Wayne was equally as surprised to see him, "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, just thought I'd drop in and see if I've still got the touch," Doc said, shaking his hand.
"You know him, Doc?" Marty asked.
"Yes Marty, Wayne here was once my prize pupil when I was teaching at Cal State-Bakersfield," Doc explained, "His aptitude on the matters of mass and volume were among the best I ever saw."
"And here's what I managed to get out of it, Dr. Brown, behold my shrinking machine," Wayne gestured to his creation.
"Shrinking machine?" Doc examined it closely, "Very interesting. This constitutes something I've always envisioned you working on. Have you managed to test it successfully?"
"Uh, yeah, I think you could say that," Wayne said quickly. Marty couldn't help noticing Nick and Amy exchanging suspicious glances that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Well I wouldn't mind seeing a demonstration of it when your time comes, it'll be a truly visual treat," Doc said. Turning back to his friend, he said, "I'm going to go get the newspaper from the tray out front, Marty; I wasn't able to peruse one at the hotel."
"Right, I'll be here when you get back, Doc," Marty said. He examined the shrinking machine thoroughly. "I've always imagined what one of these things would look like," he said, "How exactly does it shrink things?"
"Well, all matter's essentially made up of empty space, and what this does is eliminate that empty space," Wayne explained, "I use the apples to test it on; I have no clue where they got to, though. I can probably find a replacement object if I look hard enough."
"I can get you a Pepsi bottle if you need it," Marty volunteered. He looked around the convention center. "You know any of the other guys in here, because I don't know any of them," he asked.
"Wayne!" shouted a guy from across the way that Marty thought looked a lot like the guy in the Police Academy films. Although he'd never seen the guy before, Wayne recognized him immediately. "Newton Crosby!" he cried, embracing the man, "It's been a long time since I've seen you!"
"Not since high school, I think," the newcomer said, "What've you been up to lately?"
"I'm presenting my shrinking machine," Wayne pointed to his contraption, "How about you?"
"Oh I've been working on creating the first robotic house servant," Newton said, "I would have gotten it done sooner, but Nova Robotics tried to make it into a weapon, so I quit and started my own business in Montana with my fiancé."
"Uh, I heard about that," Marty interceded, "At Nova. Didn't one of those things go on a rampage all over Oregon?"
"Well the press can blow things way out of proportion, kid," Newton said, "And besides, Nova was a hellhole. I only went there because they had the money I needed to continue my research. Are you Wayne's son?"
"Uh, no, I'm..."
"Marty!" came Doc's shout from all the way across the convention center. Marty looked up to see him barreling toward him with the same crazed look on his face he always got when something was quite wrong. "Marty, please come with me now, there's something of great importance we need to discuss," the scientist said when he'd reached him. Taking Marty by the hand, he dragged him all the way across the building until they reached the men's room. Doc locked the door and checked under all the stalls to make sure they were alone. "Marty, there's been a serious breech in the space-time continuum!" he exclaimed once he was sure they were alone.
"Whoa, wait a minute Doc, what are you talking about?" Marty asked.
"Read this!" Doc handed him the paper. "Shrimp boat fisherman revolt on limited supplies given..." Marty read.
"Not that story!" Doc flipped the newspaper over, "This one!" He pointed to the big headline. "Boy Found Unaged Eight Years After Disappearance," Marty read. His eyes widened as he read on, "A twelve-year- old Fort Lauderdale boy was found alive yesterday eight years after he vanished. While this may seem just another miracle story, the amazing part is that it's almost as if he never left. David Scott Freeman is still twelve years old when he should be twenty. Authorities are...." He stopped reading in shock. "He hasn't aged in eight years!?" he asked Doc, "We sure as hell didn't do that, did we Doc?"
"Not unless one or both of us were sleepwalking during the period where we were using the time vehicle, but I find that possibility highly unlikely," Doc concluded, "No, some other force has caused this disruption in the space-time continuum, and likely one behind the comprehension of we mortal persons."
"Authorities are investigating this strange incident and have no comment," Marty read on. He was unable to finish the rest of the story. "So what do we do, Doc?" he asked.
"Fortunately, what this child has experienced is displacement into the future, which carries less consequences than if he had been transported to the past, but still it is a serious breech in the continuum nonetheless!" Doc said in his usual overly dramatic fashion, "Further down in that article it said NASA was looking into the matter, so I think it's safe to say that young David is located up at Cape Canaveral at the present. I put little faith in the scientists there to treat him with the respect of someone who goes through time, so it is imperative that we get him out of there and somehow return him to the point he experienced temporal displacement. If we leave now, we can be at NASA by noon, so there's not a moment to lose!"
"But Doc, we can't just leave the engine here unattended!" Marty protested.
"Secondary matters now, Marty; the time ripple effect is no doubt taking over even as we speak!" Doc unlocked the door and led his friend toward the front door.
"Hey Doctor Brown," Wayne ran over, "Are you all right? I never got to introduce you to..."
"Can't talk now, Wayne," Doc said breathlessly, "Have to go now, big emergency, my, um, husband was bitten by a, uh, mule."
"What?" Wayne looked really confused.
"I'll explain later," Doc said, backing toward the front door, "Come meet me at the lobby of the Howard Johnson at six, I'll explain everything."
He and Marty ran outside. Wayne children watched him go with disapproving looks. "Was he always this strange, Dad?" Amy asked with eyebrows raised.
"Sort of," Wayne said, confusion on his face at his mentor's behavior, "He always was a rebel of sorts."
Outside, Marty climbed into the passenger seat of Doc's truck. "There's just one problem here, Doc; how're we going to get into NASA?" he had to ask the old man, "That's not like just walking into the supermarket."
"I know, Marty," Doc admitted as he started the engine, "But I'll think of something before we get to Cape Canaveral."
July 17, 1986 9:00 A.M.
"Be careful with that end of the engine, Marty, I can't afford to have any damage inflicted on it before the judging," Dr. Emmett L. Brown told his associate as they unloaded his new fuel cell motor from the back of his truck outside the Fort Lauderdale Convention Center.
"Don't worry, Doc, it's not that heavy," Marty McFly told his mentor, "You know, I think we've got a good chance of winning first place with this."
"Winning isn't important here, Marty, but if we can convince enough of the judges that fusion is the way of the future, maybe we might be able to get less oil on the road and safer fuels into our cars in the very near future," Doc said, "And especially in the next decade with the..." He stopped short and shook his head, not willing to give away too much of the future. Marty was all too aware of this complex in his friend; he'd been all over the space-time continuum and had seen everything, but owing to his desire not to let out too much about the future was reluctant to disclose much of what he'd seen. No matter. Marty was just glad to have him back. He'd returned about two months ago, ready to resume the normal life he'd been living before he'd discovered time travel. He'd needed enough of a padding of time to allow people to assume he'd met Clara in New Jersey and had a quick marriage and had adopted her kids.
"You know Doc, it's a shame we can't tell anyone about how we discovered time travel," he told his mentor as they entered the building.
"I suppose part of it is, Marty, but if we were to, then everyone would be clamoring for us to duplicate that technology, and it would be used conceivably for uncouth purposes," Doc told him. "You yourself saw what could have happened with Biff's Hell Valley."
"I know, Doc, but it's a shame we can't share it with anyone," Marty said, "I'm sure a lot of the people in here would be interested that you're not just a crackpot."
Doc merely forced a smile. The convention center was packed to the roof with some of the nation's best scientists, all vying for the Thomas A. Edison Invention of the Year Award. While Doc had reservations about revealing or tampering with the future, he'd been quite interested in continuing his inventing streak with the fusion technology he'd witnessed in the future, saying it would be better for mankind's fate. As it wasn't directly based on anyone else's research, and he was sure it wouldn't be the best invention at the Convention, which he'd attended some years ago for a stretch, he was quite willing to give it a go.
"You go put the motor in its section, Marty," the scientist told his friend as they approached the front desk, "I'll go book us in. We're in number 5B, which is about two rows down from here if I'm not mistaken from my last trip here."
"Right, catch you later, Doc," Marty immediately regretted agreeing to this, as the motor was extremely heavy to be carried by just one person. He staggered around the convention center floor, nearly colliding with several other hopeful scientists, until he finally reached the pedestal on which their creation would rest until judging was complete two days from now. Dropping it into place, he'd stopped to wipe his brow. He was hoping they'd do well. Doc had been looking forward to making a comeback in the scientific community ever since he'd been laughed clean off the floor at the last convention he'd gone to in 1974 for disclosing his theories on time travel. He'd spent the last four months putting it together, with a little help from Jules and Verne, along with Jennifer whenever she could get spare time. The old man had come back to life again while he was building it, and Marty was praying that all that hard work hadn't been for nothing.
He glanced around at some of the nearer exhibits. A lot of them seemed to be computer-related, he thought. A few displays to the right dealt with robotics; some creepy spider-like things were crawling around to the amusement of several judges. And three displays over was a guy showing of some kind of cordless phone you could put in your pocket. But the one thing that caught Marty's attention most was a strange ray-like thing two displays down in the row across from the one the fusion engine was in. He strode over and examined it. Steam hissed from it, and it was covered with all sorts of glowing lights and displays, much like several of Doc's past creations. "Neat," he said.
"My dad built it in his attic," came a kid's voice behind him. Marty turned to find himself looking at a bespectacled kid of about ten who looked much like what he'd always imagined Doc looking like at ten. "Well, he seems to have done a good job, kid," he told the youngster, "What exactly does it do?"
"Nick, where are the apples for the display?" a girl who Marty thought was almost—almost—as attractive as Jennifer asked, striding over to the kid.
"I gave them to you, Amy," the boy protested.
"No you didn't," she told him, "They were right here a minute ago." She noticed Marty was watching. "You didn't taken them, did you?" she asked him suspiciously.
"No, I've just been watching," Marty said quickly, turning out his pockets to prove his innocence.
"Any luck?" asked the children's father, whom Marty noticed was pretty much an older version of his son.
"No Dad," the girl told him, I couldn't find them anywhere."
"Marty," Doc called from the top of the aisle, several forms in his hand.
"Over here, Doc," Marty called to him. The scientist ran over. "I thought I told you not to leave..." he started to say, but then noticed the man. "Wayne Szelinski!" he exclaimed, "My old pupil!"
"Doctor Brown," Wayne was equally as surprised to see him, "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, just thought I'd drop in and see if I've still got the touch," Doc said, shaking his hand.
"You know him, Doc?" Marty asked.
"Yes Marty, Wayne here was once my prize pupil when I was teaching at Cal State-Bakersfield," Doc explained, "His aptitude on the matters of mass and volume were among the best I ever saw."
"And here's what I managed to get out of it, Dr. Brown, behold my shrinking machine," Wayne gestured to his creation.
"Shrinking machine?" Doc examined it closely, "Very interesting. This constitutes something I've always envisioned you working on. Have you managed to test it successfully?"
"Uh, yeah, I think you could say that," Wayne said quickly. Marty couldn't help noticing Nick and Amy exchanging suspicious glances that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Well I wouldn't mind seeing a demonstration of it when your time comes, it'll be a truly visual treat," Doc said. Turning back to his friend, he said, "I'm going to go get the newspaper from the tray out front, Marty; I wasn't able to peruse one at the hotel."
"Right, I'll be here when you get back, Doc," Marty said. He examined the shrinking machine thoroughly. "I've always imagined what one of these things would look like," he said, "How exactly does it shrink things?"
"Well, all matter's essentially made up of empty space, and what this does is eliminate that empty space," Wayne explained, "I use the apples to test it on; I have no clue where they got to, though. I can probably find a replacement object if I look hard enough."
"I can get you a Pepsi bottle if you need it," Marty volunteered. He looked around the convention center. "You know any of the other guys in here, because I don't know any of them," he asked.
"Wayne!" shouted a guy from across the way that Marty thought looked a lot like the guy in the Police Academy films. Although he'd never seen the guy before, Wayne recognized him immediately. "Newton Crosby!" he cried, embracing the man, "It's been a long time since I've seen you!"
"Not since high school, I think," the newcomer said, "What've you been up to lately?"
"I'm presenting my shrinking machine," Wayne pointed to his contraption, "How about you?"
"Oh I've been working on creating the first robotic house servant," Newton said, "I would have gotten it done sooner, but Nova Robotics tried to make it into a weapon, so I quit and started my own business in Montana with my fiancé."
"Uh, I heard about that," Marty interceded, "At Nova. Didn't one of those things go on a rampage all over Oregon?"
"Well the press can blow things way out of proportion, kid," Newton said, "And besides, Nova was a hellhole. I only went there because they had the money I needed to continue my research. Are you Wayne's son?"
"Uh, no, I'm..."
"Marty!" came Doc's shout from all the way across the convention center. Marty looked up to see him barreling toward him with the same crazed look on his face he always got when something was quite wrong. "Marty, please come with me now, there's something of great importance we need to discuss," the scientist said when he'd reached him. Taking Marty by the hand, he dragged him all the way across the building until they reached the men's room. Doc locked the door and checked under all the stalls to make sure they were alone. "Marty, there's been a serious breech in the space-time continuum!" he exclaimed once he was sure they were alone.
"Whoa, wait a minute Doc, what are you talking about?" Marty asked.
"Read this!" Doc handed him the paper. "Shrimp boat fisherman revolt on limited supplies given..." Marty read.
"Not that story!" Doc flipped the newspaper over, "This one!" He pointed to the big headline. "Boy Found Unaged Eight Years After Disappearance," Marty read. His eyes widened as he read on, "A twelve-year- old Fort Lauderdale boy was found alive yesterday eight years after he vanished. While this may seem just another miracle story, the amazing part is that it's almost as if he never left. David Scott Freeman is still twelve years old when he should be twenty. Authorities are...." He stopped reading in shock. "He hasn't aged in eight years!?" he asked Doc, "We sure as hell didn't do that, did we Doc?"
"Not unless one or both of us were sleepwalking during the period where we were using the time vehicle, but I find that possibility highly unlikely," Doc concluded, "No, some other force has caused this disruption in the space-time continuum, and likely one behind the comprehension of we mortal persons."
"Authorities are investigating this strange incident and have no comment," Marty read on. He was unable to finish the rest of the story. "So what do we do, Doc?" he asked.
"Fortunately, what this child has experienced is displacement into the future, which carries less consequences than if he had been transported to the past, but still it is a serious breech in the continuum nonetheless!" Doc said in his usual overly dramatic fashion, "Further down in that article it said NASA was looking into the matter, so I think it's safe to say that young David is located up at Cape Canaveral at the present. I put little faith in the scientists there to treat him with the respect of someone who goes through time, so it is imperative that we get him out of there and somehow return him to the point he experienced temporal displacement. If we leave now, we can be at NASA by noon, so there's not a moment to lose!"
"But Doc, we can't just leave the engine here unattended!" Marty protested.
"Secondary matters now, Marty; the time ripple effect is no doubt taking over even as we speak!" Doc unlocked the door and led his friend toward the front door.
"Hey Doctor Brown," Wayne ran over, "Are you all right? I never got to introduce you to..."
"Can't talk now, Wayne," Doc said breathlessly, "Have to go now, big emergency, my, um, husband was bitten by a, uh, mule."
"What?" Wayne looked really confused.
"I'll explain later," Doc said, backing toward the front door, "Come meet me at the lobby of the Howard Johnson at six, I'll explain everything."
He and Marty ran outside. Wayne children watched him go with disapproving looks. "Was he always this strange, Dad?" Amy asked with eyebrows raised.
"Sort of," Wayne said, confusion on his face at his mentor's behavior, "He always was a rebel of sorts."
Outside, Marty climbed into the passenger seat of Doc's truck. "There's just one problem here, Doc; how're we going to get into NASA?" he had to ask the old man, "That's not like just walking into the supermarket."
"I know, Marty," Doc admitted as he started the engine, "But I'll think of something before we get to Cape Canaveral."