July 18, 1986
3:18 a.m. PDT
It seemed to Marty as if time were literally going backwards. One minute they were in the bright sunny morning of Florida, and the next they were in the still-dark skies over Hill Valley. "Talk about fast travel," he commented.
"We have to move fast, they'll be on us quick," Doc said as the stairs metamorphed downward. He rushed for his farmhouse door. Clara opened it just as he was about to go inside. "Emmett, what are you doing back from Florida so soon?" she asked him. Then she noticed the spaceship parked in her lawn and gasped. "What in the name of Jules Verne...!?" she exclaimed.
"Yes Ma?" both boys came up behind their mother. They also gasped at the sight of the spaceship. "Is that a real space flying thing, Pa?" Verne asked him excitedly.
"Yes, Verne, but please try not to tamper with any of the circuits and such inside," Doc told his younger son, "We're on a critical mission to restore the space-time continuum. Clara, if you would, my friends haven't had much to eat this morning, so if you're not too tired show them to the kitchen. Marty, David, come with me, we'll see if we can do this the easy way."
"What do you mean the easy way, Doc?" Marty asked him as they hustled to the barn, where he knew the scientist kept his time train, "Are we going to try and send him back with your system? What about the mind transference thing with the alien guy you promised?"
"I fully intend to keep that promise, Marty," Doc told him, "I had a little difficulty with the time vehicle when I last used it, and I want to make sure everything's in order. If all works well, we can set up that mind transference, then send David back in time without any questions asked."
They entered the barn. David gasped at the sight of the train. "So this is a time machine?" he asked the old man.
"Precisely," Doc lifted him up into the cab. "Now for the key question," he posed as he and Marty climbed up, "Do you remember the exact point in time that you experienced temporal displacement?"
"What?" David was very confused.
"Uh, the Doc means do you know the moment you were brought ahead in time?" Marty clarified it for him.
"Well, I went into the woods at about eight," David remembered, "but everything after that's a blur."
"Well then, I think we have our guidelines," Doc said, fiddling with several controls on the front of the train, "Make a note Marty; when we send him back, we're aiming for July 4, 1978, 8:30 p.m."
"Why eight thirty?" David asked him, "I said it was around eight."
"We can't risk you running into your other self," Doc told him, "The results could be disastrous. At eight thirty, we stand less of a chance of that occurring."
"What do you mean disastrous?" David inquired.
"Uh, basically if you see yourself, you could destroy the universe, or at least the Milky Way," Marty told him.
"I guess we're ready for our little test here," Doc said, switching on the time circuits, "We'll try going one minute ahead in time and see if this baby can deliver for me."
He turned on the engine and set the dials for July 18, 1986, 3:22 a.m. "Hold on tight," he told the two of them as the train revved up and rose upward toward the opening barn roof. But just as they were about to reach the threshold of time travel, the train sputtered and began smoking. "Doc what's going on?" Marty asked as the train's automatic fire extinguishers put out the blaze that began burning in the circuitry.
"Great Scott!" Doc lamented as the train sank back to earth, "The damage was worse than I thought! During the last trip in time when I brought Clara and the boys back here, we experienced serious turbulence while going through the continuum that reeked havoc on the time circuits. I thought it would hold, but I assumed wrong!"
"Well can you fix it? "David asked, concerned.
"Oh sure," Doc muttered, "With about three months that we haven't got!"
"So what else can we do? "David inquired, "I can't be stuck here!"
"You won't be," Doc told him as they scrambled back down from the cab, "I will get you back in time. We're just going to have to do it the hard way. In the meantime you must be hungry, so my wife will cook you up something good. Marty, come with me, we'll figure out how we're going to do this."
"So what's the hard way, Doc?" Marty asked as they raced over to the spaceship.
"It depends on what our visitor here can tell us," Doc said as they climbed on board again. "Sir," the scientist addressed the alien, who was fiddling with some circuits of its own, "We could really use your assistance here. I need to know precisely how you travel through time and the designs of the instrumentation used for that."
"As you wish," the alien and much of the right side of the ship became transparent. Doc swooped over the mechanics that were now visible like a hawk. "Let's see, you unleash this red liquid here, it flows into you, and a reaction of sorts occurs that punches a hole in the continuum and allow you to slip through," he mused. He made a few mental calculations and asked, "Judging by what I see here, I assume that on average you go directly into the main flow of the continuum and zoom through it for up to and including a full minute, am I not correct?"
"You are," the alien said.
"I can see where it would be too dangerous for the human body to survive a journey of those specifications," Doc said, "The continuum is rough when you're not going directly through it. I have the technology to make such a transition for David safer, but it would require the use of some of your systems here to be hooked up to some of mine."
"What would the changes you suggest entail?" the alien inquired, somewhat suspicious.
"I propose that we run the same routine you do with the other beings you study, but we add a protective shell of sorts around the interior of the craft here and increase the power expenditure on the time jump to the point where it's almost instantaneous as on my system," Doc told him, "It won't harm your systems and can be easily removed once you return to Phaelon. I can't guarantee success using this system, but given the urgency, I suggest it as our best option. What do you say?"
The alien thought it over then made what was apparently a nod and said, "Agreed."
"I'll be in shortly with the necessary parts," Doc said, motioning for Marty to follow him back outside. "So how're we going to do all this, Doc?" Marty asked him.
"Fortunately for the protective shell, I have several polymer sprays from the 23rd century that'll fit the bill," Doc said as they zipped over to his house, "There should be enough to cover the entire interior of the spacecraft. As for the power increase, that's going to be a bit trickier, since I'll need about 5.78 jigowatts of electricity for what I have in mind."
"5.78 jigowatts!!??" Marty gasped, "How on earth are we going to generate that much power!? It's hard enough getting 1.21!"
"I know, I know," Doc mumbled, "And since we can't count on any lightning strikes this time, we're going to have to look long and hard for an alternative."
An idea occurred to Marty. "Say, do you still have some of that plutonium from the first time through time? If we through in several batches at once...."
"Can't," Doc shook his head, "I gave all but one canister away to a charitable group in 2194 that was gathering up plutonium to warm the poor during the winter in the colder reaches of the country. It would be too hard to try and get more."
"Well, it was a thought," Marty shrugged, "I'm sure you'll think of something, Doc."
Doc nodded and headed for the door. Marty watched as David played around a bit with Einstein on the lawn. "You like him too, huh?" he asked him.
David nodded. "I have my own dog back at home," he told the teen, "Einstein, that's his name, reminds me of him."
"What's his name?" Marty asked, sitting down next to him.
"Bruiser."
"Nice," Marty said, "I'd have gotten one myself, but my sister's allergic to them. So, how were things going for you before you ended up...here?"
"Decent," David shrugged, "I was kind of hitting a dead end, though. I don't really have any skills, I'm not popular enough to be in the in-crowd, and two of my friends had moved away about a month ago."
"What are you interested in?" Marty was really starting to like the kid.
"Not much," David said, "Except maybe baseball. Sort of."
"What team do you like best?" Marty asked, himself a Dodger lover.
"Braves," David told him, "They're the closest to Fort Lauderdale. I've been thinking about switching though. Ever since they got rid of Hank Aaron, they've been terrible."
"Oh I wouldn't give up on the Braves you yet if I were you," Marty told him. He still remembered a few of the stats he'd seen in Gray's Sports Almanac. "You play it?"
"I'd want to, but I'm just not that good," David sighed, "I'm afraid if I'd strike out all the time, I'd just embarrass myself and my family, and I don't want to do that."
It was as if Marty was back in 1955 talking with his father again. "I wouldn't be too scared about that, Dave," he told the boy, "You've got to learn to think positive. Give it a try, you never know what might happen." He decided to probe deeper. "So, you've got a girl?"
"Maybe," David said, looking somewhat hopeful, "Not likely though."
"What's her name?"
"Jennifer."
"Amazing," Marty exclaimed, "That's my girlfriend's name. She pretty?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," David said with a smile that quickly fell, "The problem is, she's so hot all the guys like her. I'm just a nobody, so she wouldn't look at me. She's friendly and all, but I'll never be able to get it closer than that."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Marty told him, "I think if you just be yourself, you'll always impress a girl."
"Yeah, but what do I say to her?" David asked him, "I freeze up whenever I'm around her."
'Just tell her how beautiful she is and how much you like her," Marty informed him, "Girls always like that." Then he added, "You know, if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything."
David smiled longer. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, "Well, I'd better go have breakfast; I'm starving."
"Enjoy it," Marty told him as he and Einstein walked off. He looked off to the east. So far no sign of Catledge's agents just yet. Indeed, he was a little worried by the lack of action on their nemeses' part; he'd feel a lot better if he knew what they were going to do next.
The sound of crashing directed him to the window on the far side of the farmhouse. Doc was tossing items all over his lab. "Where are those circuits!?" he was saying out loud.
"You mean these, Dr. Brown?" Wayne came in through the door, holding the time circuits, including the tri-colored readouts.
"Yes, those," Doc took it from him, "Where'd you find those?"
"Under the sink," Wayne told him.
"Why would I have put it there?" Doc mused, then shrugged and said, "Well, I guess I had my reasons."
"This was there too," Wayne handed Doc an old notebook.
"Ah, my diary from the 50s," Doc said. He leafed through it. "Now here's some unpleasant memories," he commented as he came upon one particular entry, "The day Catledge framed me for his own incompetence with the rocket systems. The proof would be in here, showing how he manipulated the systems to his advantage."
"Haven't you ever showed it to anyone?" Wayne asked, "If he's as bad as you say he is....."
"It was the fifties, Wayne, there was Communist hunts everywhere, and Catledge had access to the people in power; if I tried to defend myself, ,I'd have been branded a 'Red' and deported," Doc told him, "No, I let it go, perhaps unwisely, and as such Catledge is now pretty much untouchable. He's paid off enough politicians and police to make himself above the law. The rocket sabotage isn't the worst of his cadavers, though. Read this one, for example."
He went back a few pages and handed Wayne the book. Wayne whistled in amazement. "So he stole plutonium from the Manhattan Project?" he asked.
"As far as I can guess," Doc muttered, "He used some of it to pin on me when he decided to use me as a scapegoat. Planted it in my room. That was only a small part of it though, and since plutonium has such a long half-life, it's probably somewhere in his vaults, ready to be used at a moment's notice for all the wrong reasons."
He tossed the diary into the corner and asked, "So Wayne, you'd said you knew something about David that was important?"
"Well, I can't really remember perfectly, but when the kids and I first came into Fort Lauderdale, we had our pictures taken by the Intercoastal Waterway, and at the spot we had it taken in, there was a stone marker dedicated to a David Freeman. I asked the guy who took the picture who he was, and he told me he was a kid who'd drowned in the waterway about four years ago."
There was an abrupt clatter as the hubcap Doc was holding felt out of his hand to the floor. "GREAT SCOTT!!!!!" the senior scientist gasped, "Did you get any more specifics on the circumstances surrounding that?"
"I can't really remember much, but he said something to the extent that he tried to answer a dare from a more popular kid, and that his boat tipped over and he drowned. I know he told me more, but..."
"He probably did; the ripple effect's erasing it from your memory," Doc said. He looked greatly stunned. "This is most distressing," he said to no one in particular, "To know we're sending a friend back in time to a quicker than expected death!"
"Well we don't have to Dr. Brown, if you don't..." Wayne started to say.
"No Wayne, it is imperative we continue with the operation nonetheless," Doc said stoically, "The continuum must be restored. I'll have to ask you not to inform David of this. It is best if he knows not of his destiny. Help me find the flux capacitor."
"Well, if you say so," Wayne shrugged, looking reluctant to comply. Outside, Marty was in complete shock. The sound of Einstein barking caused him to turn to watch David playing with the dog. He felt guilty about sending him back in time now. But he knew better than to argue with Doc about it; once he was set in his ways, it was hard to convince him otherwise. Indeed, he knew it would be better to pretend that he knew nothing about it.
He trudged back inside the farmhouse. "Marty, are you feeling well," Clara asked him from the kitchen entrance, "You don't look so happy."
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine, Clara," Marty lied, "You still got any biscuits left?"
"Right this way," Clara waved him into the kitchen, where the others were finishing their meals. "Say Marty, I don't know where Mrs. Brown learned to cook this well, but these are the best waffles I've had in years," Newton told him.
"Well Clara's an excellent cook, runs in her family," Marty said, giving Clara knowing wink.
"Passed down form generation to generation," Clara took the now empty plate from the robotics expert to the sink. Newton continued, "So, what made you interested in Dr. Brown? Was he an old family friend?"
"Not really," Clara became a bit uncomfortable before continuing, "The truth, Mr. Crosby, is that Emmett saved my life; I almost fell into a deep ravine—the one across town to be exact—and I fell for him immediately."
"It's hard not to love someone who does that," Amy said with a knowing smile.
Doc stuck his head in the door. "Marty, give me a hand for a moment, I need your help moving the amplifier controls to the spaceship," he told his friend.
"Right Doc," Marty swallowed the biscuit in one gulp and followed him toward the back area where the broken remains of the over-juiced amplifier sat still. "What do we need them for, Doc?" he asked.
"Set at its highest level, the amplifier emits about 5,347 kilowatts," Doc informed him as they lifted it up on a roller and wheeled it toward the back door, "To be sure that's only about a third of a jigowatt, but it's a good start, provided it doesn't blow before all the energy's released. Wayne's collecting all the trash from around the farmhouse; we're going to shove it into Mr. Fusion and see if we can get some more jigowatts out of that. Hopefully we'll be able to stop at several dumps before we attempt temporal displacement and stock up on...."
Just then sirens began flashing all over the house. Marty noticed the words UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ON PROPERTY flashing several monitors on the walls. "Is that them, Doc?" he asked, hearing the sounds of heavy machinery creeping toward the property.
"You bet your Diet Pepsi it's them!" Doc muttered, "I forgot how fast he could respond with K.O.N.D.O.R. right up 101! We need to get airborne again immediately!"
But getting airborne seemed quite out of the question as trucks, jeeps, light tanks, and other vehicles emblazoned with the words PROPERTY OF K.O.N.D.O.R. INDUSTRIES quickly surrounded the Brown property. "This is K.O.N.D.O.R. Industries security," barked someone's voice over a headphone, "You are ordered to surrender the property taken from Cape Canaveral Florida immediately."
"Boy they're strict," Marty muttered. He analyzed the situation outside. It didn't look good at all.
Doc activated a paging system of some kind on the far wall. "You will not get what you're asking for!" he yelled at them, "And for your information you are violating at least five amendments presently, so I strongly advise you to leave my property right now unless you want trouble!"
"If you do not release David Scott Freeman and the alien vessel to our custody in fifteen seconds, we will open fire on the premises," warned the security chief.
"So you'd be willing to kill innocent women and children?" Doc asked him authoritatively, "I'm asking you to find your conscience and leave now!"
"Ten, nine, eight, seven,..." the chief began counting down. Marty gulped nervously. "Uh Doc, I don't think we should encourage them like that!" he told his mentor.
"...four, three, two, one, open fire." The security chief ordered his men, who opened fire not just with guns but also the tanks and artillery pieces. Marty found himself screaming in terror as he hit the floor. "Yep, we definitely made a mistake there, Doc!" he told him as shells zoomed just over his head.
There was movement form over in the corner of the room. "No, no disassemble!" Johnny-5 muttered determinedly. He jetted to the window and lowered his laser.
"Watch out, mad robot!" cried one of the men outside. Marty heard a loud explosion as the laser was fired. He glanced up to see the men running for cover as the robot blew up their vehicles in quick succession. "Yeah!" he yelled in delight, "Burn them up, Johnny-5!"
"Good work," Doc patted Johnny-5 on the back and handed him some of his blueprints. "These are schematics for my time circuits," he told it, dodging some of the bullets the security men were firing back at the robot, "Once you're done here, memorize them, because I'll need your help in putting them back together, OK?"
"OK," Johnny-5 felled a tree onto a tank just seconds after the crew abandoned it. Doc hefted a large sack full of unknown items onto his shoulder. "Cover us," he told the robot, "We're making a break for it!"
He waved to Marty and the two of them pushed the amplifier system out the door toward the spaceship. The others came around the front and joined up with them. "This Catledge guy must be a really nice guy to want to go this far!" Stephanie complained to Doc as they scrambled up the steps into the ship.
"He hasn't even begun to fight yet," Doc told her. Bullets now struck the spaceship, although they didn't seem to be causing any harm to it. Marty struggled to push the amplifier system up the steps. "Come on Johnny-5, it's time to fly!" he called to the robot. Johnny-5 gave one parting blast to the security men and made a beeline toward the ship. He was struck by about four bullets along the way, particularly while trying hard to get up the steps, but managed to make it up okay. "Step on it," he told the alien.
"Yeah, First Class maneuver right now," David told it, looking shocked that people would be willing to shoot up private homes for him.
"Compliance," the alien droned, and seconds later they were shooting east again at the speed of sound.
Back in Florida, Catledge growled at the sight of the ship moving around on his digital map again. "Skiles, didn't I tell you to keep them on the ground!?" he bellowed into the phone to his commander.
"Well Dr. Catledge, it's hard to...OWWWW!!!" Skiles was cut off by the sound of a heavy object connecting with his head. "How dare you try to kill me, my husband, my children, everyone!!" Clara could be heard screeching as she hit him repeatedly.
"Cut it out lady!" Skiles pleaded with her to no effect. Catledge groaned. "Well when you get a free moment, Skiles, arrest his whole family, maybe a little hostage taking'll scare him into seeing things our way." He hung up, thought things over a minute, and then dialed another number. "General, it's Catledge," he told the newest person, "I've got a bogey in the skies over the U.S. Get in touch with as many national units as you can; tell them to bring it down at all costs."