July 18, 1986
4:24 a.m.
Marty shivered slightly in the early morning air as he paced up and down the highway, waiting for the NASA laundry truck. He hadn't expected the temperatures in Florida to drop as low in mid-July as they were now. He was especially unhappy with the 3 a.m. wakeup Doc had insisted on. He glanced enviously back into Newton's car—now with a deliberate flat tire-where Nick lay sound asleep, as he wasn't needed for this segment of Doc's plan. But that wasn't all Marty was worried about.
"Do you really think they'll stop when we flag them down?" he confided in Stephanie, who was also part of Phase I of "Operation Temporal Restoration," as Doc had termed it, "Cause if they don't, we can forget about the rest of the plan."
"We'll have to wait and see," Stephanie said. She looked just as haggard and hesitant as Marty felt. "And to tell you the truth, Marty, I don't really approve of something as against the law as this," she told him, "How do you go along with breaking the law like this?"
"Well, after holding up a train in 1885, this is small change, Mrs. Speck," Marty told her. Seeing her expression, he said, "You really don't believe all the time travel stories, do you?"
"I'll admit it sounds a little far-fetched," Stephanie admitted, "But I suppose Johnny-5 being alive was just as hard to believe."
"Alive?" it was Marty's turn to sound dubious.
"Yeah, lightning struck him and brought him to life," Stephanie explained, "He's just like you and me now."
"Well, if you say so, I won't...wait, here they come now," Marty pointed down the road, where a big truck marked NASA was coming right at them. He strode into the middle of the road and waved his arms. The truck came to a stop. "What is it!?" shouted the driver rather curtly, sticking his head out the window.
"Uh, sorry to pull you over like this, but we got a flat, and my Mom and I were wondering if you guys could lend us a spare or at least call the nearest garage for us," Marty asked as convincingly as he could.
"We don't have time for this," the driver told him, "We're behind schedule as it is."
"Hang on a minute, Bobby, I think we might have a spare or two," argued his co-worker, "It'll only take a moment."
The driver sighed in resignation. "All right, Rich, but if we get reprimanded, it was your idea."
Both men climbed down from the truck. While they weren't looking, Marty whistled loudly, signaling Doc it was time to prepare for his part of the plan. "So what's matter with the tire?" the second man asked as he and the driver approached the car.
"Busted," Stephanie told them, "Ran over something a half mile ago. There should be a jack in the back seat."
Both men squinted in. "I don't see anything there," the driver noted.
"Oh it's there, keep looking," Marty said. He nodded to Stephanie, and the two of them pushed the men's heads against the back window. "Hey, what the hell are..!?" the driver demanded, but he was cut short as Doc rose up from under a blanket in the back seat and held the Alpha Rhythm Generator in their faces. Within seconds both men were snoring loudly. The scientist hopped out the other door. "Good work you two," he commended them, "Part One of Phase One is a resounding success. Marty, let's get their uniforms on; we'd look suspicious in civilian attire."
"Car 8-10-92, what's going on!?" came the voice of the dispatcher over the truck's radio, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Car 8-10-92, are you there!?"
Thinking quickly, Marty ran over to the truck and picking up the radio. "Everything's fine," he said in the deepest voice he could muster, "We just stopped to help some people who had a flat."
"Well forget about it and get back to the base!" yelled the dispatcher unpleasantly, "You're twenty minutes behind schedule! If I find you two have been drinking again, you both get the boot!"
"Ten-four, we're making like the wind as you speak," Marty signed off and switched off the radio. He hoped they wouldn't be held up by security for their victims' tardiness when they got to NASA.
July 18, 1986
4:51 a.m.
"Morning guys, what's happening?" Biff asked loudly as he strolled into one of the labs.
"What are you doing up so early, Mr. Tannen?" one of the scientists on duty asked him.
"Couldn't sleep," Biff told him, "Figured I'd go see what you guys were up to before I got breakfast." He examined the nearest control console. "Hey, what does this button do?" he asked out loud, reaching for it.
"Careful!" the scientist slapped his hand away, "That controls the guidance system on Voyager 2! We'd lose our alignment with Uranus if you screwed that up! We've been waiting over a decade to get quality pictures from there."
"If you wanted pictures of Uranus, all you'd have to do is bend over and I'd take them for you," Biff broke into laughter at his bad joke. When he realized no one else found it funny, he asked, "So, what's on the slate for today?"
"Radiation tests on David like Dr. Catledge and Dr. Faraday ordered," the scientist said," pointing to a long circular radiation chamber in the far corner, "We'll see if the entity's actually inside him. But quite frankly, I don't think this is a good idea."
"Why, I'm sure you guys are professionals," Biff posed.
"Mr. Tannen, first off the test itself is unnecessary from where I'm standing," the scientist muttered, "And secondly, the amount of radiation to be given for as long as he's asking will likely be fatal. If it were up to me, I'd restructure the examination."
"But you're not, so you can't," came Faraday's voice from the doorway, "Dr. Catledge's orders. The test will proceed as discussed previously. I guarantee you the levels we've prescribed are safe."
"Well you also guaranteed the Alpha Centuri..." his subordinate started to say, but a raising of Faraday's eyebrows silenced him. "I'll get it set up," he said, heading over to the machine. Once he was out of Faraday's hearing, he grumbled, "But I won't be the one who calls David's family and tells them we over-radiated their son to death."
"Morning, Dr. Faraday," Biff greeted him, "How'd you sleep last night?"
"Reasonably," Faraday told him, "I'd like to start the experiments after breakfast."
"I'd like to eat it with you, I haven't eaten since six last night," Biff said, following him toward the cafeteria, "Do they serve a good hash brown here?"
July 18, 1986
5:08 a.m.
Marty glimpsed a sign reading NASA MAIN OFFICES, 1 MILE along the side of the side ahead of them. Light was starting to come into the early morning sky. He could only imagine what the real laundry truck drivers would think when they woke up in a few hours in the middle of a swamp in their underwear. He adjusted his dark glasses and slouched down in the seat as they approached the main gate.
"Here're the suits you requested, Dr. Brown," Wayne said, sticking his head through the partition and handing Doc two janitor outfits.
"Thank you Wayne," Doc said, putting him on the seat next to him.
"Say Dr. Brown, did you say this kid's name is David Freeman?" Doc's student asked. There was something in his expression that made Marty feel rather uneasy.
"Yes, so?" Doc inquired.
"Uh, nothing really," Wayne said quickly.
"Wayne, I can tell when people aren't being straight up with me," Doc told him.
"Well, it might be somewhat important," Wayne said, "I'll tell you about it when we're alone."
"Fair enough," Doc shrugged, "Get down until we're inside the complex." He pushed Wayne into the back as they pulled up to the main checkpoint. The old man handed the guard on duty the security the clearance he'd taken off the driver. The guard, looking exhausted from an all-night shift, merely nodded and waved him in. Doc drove over to the building marked RESEARCH CENTER, MAIN WING and parked. "All right, everyone," he announced, hopping down from the truck, "It's time for action." He handed everyone a walkie-talkie. "Inform me of anything out of the ordinary that might become you," he instructed them, "In case of separation, we meet at Hangar B-6, that's where the time traveling system should be. Amy, there should be a truck nearby to their, good luck securing it for us. We'll let you know when we're ready to load."
"Whatever you say," Amy shrugged. "This is insane," Marty heard her mutter as she walked off in the direction of the hangar, "I could have spent a restful week alone with Russ, but no, now I'm off with a crackpot trying to twenty to thirty year sentence! As if being shrunk wasn't bad enough!"
July 18, 1986
5:13 a.m.
Marty emptied the next to last garbage can in the research center's main lobby. He and Doc had been pretending to spruce up the lobby in anticipation of their move down the maximum-security wing. Unfortunately, he'd noticed a couple of guards had been watching them intensely since they'd started, and he was worried they'd be taken into custody if they didn't look like professional janitors.
Up till now, there had been no contact with the other members of the group, and Marty had assumed all was going well so far. But it was then that Doc's walkie-talkie blared to life. "Come in Dr. Brown," he could hear Wayne calling from fifteen feet away. Doc turned his back to the guards and activated the radio. "Yes, I read you, what is it?" he asked.
"Uh, Dr. Brown, we found the RALF unit, but it's proving a little harder to operate than we...come back here you stupid contraption!" Even from where he was standing, Marty couldn't mistake the loud crash that followed for anything else. Doc groaned. "Wayne, there should be operating instructions right on it!" he said as calmly as he could, "When I saw it, it was just a few button pushings to get it going."
Several more crashes could be heard. "Well how was I supposed to know this thing would have a mind of its own once you turned it on!?" Wayne protested, "It's hard enough catching up to it now that it's going at thirty miles an hour!"
"Well please try and get it under control as quickly as you can, because the longer you're running around chasing after it the more attention you'll draw..." Doc started to say.
"Excuse me, pal, what're you doing?" one of the guards asked, staring Doc right in the eyes. Faced with a direct crisis, Doc took the absurd way out. "Red leader, red leader, I've been hit!" he yelled, waving his arms around wildly, "Those MiGs are right on my tail! Send all available backup immediately, or I'll have to bail!"
"Is your friend here all right?" the guard asked Marty. Marty thought up the first rational lie he could readily find. "Um, he's been a little shell-shocked since he came back from Grenada," he explained hesitantly, "The Grenadans shot him down, and he's kind of been acting strange like this ever since."
The guard shrugged. "Well my advice is, make sure he gets help, or else he'll be a huge security risk," he informed the teen, shaking his head as he walked away. No sooner had he and his associates vanished than the RALF unit bore down into the room, Wayne and the others still giving chase. Seeing how it was now headed right for him, Marty took off running for the nearest sofa and leaped as high up onto it as possible. The RALF crashed into it (Marty noticed at least five dents on it now from the various crashes it had previously went through) and mercifully stopped. Nick popped his head out a side panel. "Boy, that was fun, can we do that again?" he asked, half jokingly.
"I'm afraid we don't have time, Nick," Doc said, "Any minute now the..." he was forced to stop again as the guards came back over. "Hey buddy, whatdya think you're doing with this!?" a new one demanded Wayne.
"Uh, Drs. Abbott and Costello and myself were taking it down to deliver David his breakfast," Wayne explained quickly, nodding in the direction of Newton and Stephanie, "This is my first time, I didn't know how..."
"Guys, we're having some trouble here with the picture," the man at the front desk called to the guards. They ignored the situation at hand and ran over to the caller. "What's wrong with it?" the head guard asked.
"The cameras are going fuzzy," the man said, pointing to the screen. As the guards examined the situation, Doc entered the proper information into the RALF. "Marty, you and I will go get David now," he announced, "The rest of you make sure they stay preoccupied with the screens. If we're not out in five minutes create some kind of diversion for us."
"Check, Dr. Brown," Newton said. "Marty heard him inquire as they turned to go, "Drs. Abbott and Costello, Wayne?"
"Well who'd you have suggested, Drs. Crusoe and Friday?" Wayne said in self-defense.
"So this is the very heart of NASA research?" Nick asked, sticking his head out again, "This is great. I wonder what they're working on in here?"
'Right now probably little more than junk experiments to line Catledge's pockets," Doc grumbled.
"Lighten up Doc, there's probably some guys in here independent of him," Marty said.
"You're probably right, Marty, but not many," Doc said, "As I told you yesterday, this place is largely a bureaucracy now, and he's the top bureaucrat of them all. It was his O-rings that failed on the Challenger, after all. I can tell you right now he blackmailed at least five people to get them on the shuttle without a proper inspection. Continued flights mean more to him than the safety of..."
"Hold your water, here we are," Marty said as they arrived at David's room. Doc ran his security pass through the system out front, and the door opened. "Room service," Doc announced loudly as they went on. David, who'd been sitting upright on his bed, gave them strange looks. "Don't I know you guys?" he asked them.
Doc lowered his dark glasses. "Yes, it's me, Dr. Brown and Marty," he whispered, "We're getting you out of here."
"Great," David was quite pleased at the prospect, "They lied to me and my family," he told them as he pulled a curtain closed over the mirror, which Marty suspected had something to do with the room's security, "They told me I'd only be here 48 hours, and now I'm slated for the whole week!"
"We know," Marty told him, "We're not going to let them do any more experiments on you, right Doc?"
"Absolutely," Doc whispered. He lifted open the RALF's paneling, "Get in, we'll take you off the base."
David started in, then turned to them. "I guess I can trust you with this," he said, "It's been calling to me all morning. It wants me to come to it."
"Hangar B-6, right?" Marty inquired.
"As far as I know," David told him.
"Then we haven't a moment to lose," Doc closed the hatch behind him. "Well," he announced out loud, "I guess we're done here. Have a nice day, David. We'll be back tomorrow morning." Then he pressed the buttons on the RALF. Hangar B-6, here we come," he said softly as they headed up the hall again.
July 18, 1986
5:27 a.m.
"Johnny-5 do well, no?" the robot asked Doc as it rolled up alongside them in the middle of the NASA yard.
"You did very well, Johnny-5," Doc commended him, "We now have a good edge on them. Did you have any difficulties?"
"None, zero, zilch, zip, nada," Johnny-5 told him.
"Sorry I asked," Doc shrugged. Marty glanced around nervously. The group was walking over to Hangar B-6 separately, so as not to alert too much suspicion. Nonetheless, Marty was concerned the guards would discover David's absence any moment now and sound the alarm on them before they could get away.
The walk over was, however, surprisingly uneventful. A few times, they came in contact with guards who eyed them suspiciously, but those moments passed without incident. In no time, they were outside Hangar B-6. "We're cleaning the facility," Doc informed the guard on duty out front, who nodded sleepily and opened the door for them. The RALF came to a stop outside a large circular room that was covered with loads of sheets. It reminded Marty strongly of what Keys had ended up doing to Elliott's house after he'd found E.T. there. Squinting through it, he was aware that something very large behind all the shrouds. Something very foreign to this planet.
David popped out of the RALF. "Thanks for the company," he told them, pointing to Nick, who looked pleased to have met someone his age on the mission, "He kind of even looks like my brother...when he was still my younger brother, that is."
"He is great, isn't he?" Wayne said proudly of his son, "So David, is the thing you've been in contact with in here?" the shrinking master asked the kid (Doc had informed them all of what David had told Marty and himself).
"It's right in here," David began walking toward the sliding doors not too far away. It seemed to Marty as if the thing was still calling to him. "Shouldn't we put on some kind of suits?" he asked, noticing the radiation sign on the doors.
"No, it's okay," David told him, knowing. The party followed him in. They walked through all the sheets and dividers until they were in the very center of the room. Doc's, "Great Scott!" uniformly summed up what they saw.