Chapter I: Future Imperfect

New York City, Central Park: Rescue Ranger Headquarters. June 1990.

"Chip? Could you help me out for a minute?"
Gadget Hackwrench Maplewood stood on a small stepladder, her hands buried deep inside the mechanics of the Rangerplane. The obvious obstruction of her rounding figure didn't help her work any. At seven months and counting, she really wasn't even supposed to be out of bed.

Chip walked out onto the tree's runway branch, and feigned a shocked expression.

"Gadget! You know what the doctor said about working on the planes in your condition!"

She pouted for a moment.

"Chip, honey, I'm pregnant, not an invalid. If I don't get my hands dirty once in a while, I'm going to go stir crazy!"

"I know, but why don't you get your hands dirty making dinner, or working on a scrapbook, or fixing the toaster? You know, something less…strenuous."
"I knew it! As soon as this happens, you start trying to turn me into the typical suburban housewife!"

"Oh come on, Gadget, you know I wouldn't do that! I love you just like you are…whether you're up to your elbows in engine grease, or decorating a baby's crib."

"You do not. You fell in love with a radiant young inventor. Look at me now!" she said, almost starting to sob.

Chip shook his head, and put his arm around her.
"Aw, Gadge," he said. "You haven't changed! You're still the same girl I fell for that first day on the Screaming Eagle."
"Golly, thanks Chip," she smiled, wiping her eyes. "Sorry about this, these hormones are killing me!"

"So we've noticed. At least the tantrums stopped after the first trimester."

"Tantrums? I never noticed any of those."

He sighed, and got up, wanting to avoid any further undue stress on his wife.

"Just come on inside, Gadget. Tammy can fix whatever's wrong with the plane until after the baby gets here."

"I guess so," she said, looking wistfully at her tools. The past few months had been hard on her, staying out from under the hood of the Rangers' vehicles and equipment. Inventing, for Gadget, was like coffee. In other words, addictive. Her obstetrician had also recommended that she slack off on her caffeine, which was like a near death sentence for her immediate creativity, and she told the good doctor so. In several different languages.

As they walked back into Headquarters, Gadget gave her husband a sly smile.

"Well, one good thing will come at the completion of our little joint project."
"And what's that?"
"I get my Maxwell House 1892 blend back."

"Oh for pity's sake," he laughed. "You've been mourning your java withdrawal for three months now."

"Well, it's a little harder to kick the habit than I thought."

"Well you can do it. I've got a lot of faith in you."
Gadget sighed.
"I know. I'll just be glad when…"

BOOM!

A sound akin to a sonic crash ripped through the air around the Rangers' tree. The floor shook, and Chip grabbed Gadget to support her.

"What in the world was that?" she asked in wonder.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."
"Croikey!" Monterey Jack said, coming in fresh from the shower. "Did anybody else 'ear that noise?"

"That's what I'm just on my way out to investigate, Monty," Chip replied. "Come on. Let's go have a look see."

In the air, the Rangerwing IV was burning. Sprocket slowly returned to his senses, only to find himself in a tailspin, heading straight for the ground. He shook his head, ignoring the disorienting pain that resided there, and hauled back on the wheel. The flaps pulled, but the plane wouldn't respond.

"Come on! I'm no good to Mom and the others if you make street pizza out of me!"

He pushed several controls frantically, trying to restart the damaged starboard engine. The motor coughed valiantly and turned over, but failed to catch, the wiring flaming even as Sprocket tried to crank it. He pulled with all his formidable strength, the controls creaking as he nearly bent them. The dashboard erupted in sparks as the overdrive gave out, robbing the port engine of it's power advantage. The Rangerwing fell like a brick, nose straight down. Sprocket fought the controls with everything he could muster, as the earth drew nearer. Miraculously, a few seconds later, the flaps did their work, and the nose edged upward.

"Atta girl," he said, with hope. What he saw next, however, abruptly dashed those newfound hopes. A tree was in his line of sight, and he was headed straight for it.

"Wait…is that…yes! It's Headquarters!"

Using the last bit of power on board, he slowed his airspeed as much as possible. The Rangerwing dipped low as it neared the branches.

"I don't see a thing, Monty. What happened?"
"Dunno, pally. Oi 'eard that explosion just as clear as you did. But oi sure can't see wot made it."

"Neither can I," Chip replied. He scratched his head in curiosity, looking all around. "But it was something. Something big. And…Monty, do you see that?"

He pointed up toward the sky. Trailing smoke, a familiar style plane flew dizzily toward the tree.

"Looks like the Rangerwing, Chippah. But the 'Wing's sittin' roight heah!"

"I know. I don't like the looks of it, either. Whoever's flying is going to crash if they don't do something about that engine!"
"Too roight, and they're doin' somethin' about it, too! They're headin' for the tree!"

Chip stared up at the looming craft, and realized that Monty was right. Leaping into the nearby Screaming Eagle, he jerked his thumb toward the Rangerwing.

"Get it out of the way! I'll take this one!"

"Roight!"
Both planes whirred to life at an instant, their freshly charged batteries running their hovering props at maximum speed. Monterey Jack landed the Rangerwing on an upper branch, which the Rangers used as an auxiliary landing pad. Chip stayed in the hovering 'Eagle, watching the unknown pilot's plane speed toward them. All he could see was a shadow in the cockpit, struggling against the control yoke. The strange plane had slowed, but it dipped dangerously low.

"Why doesn't he use the hoverprops? He has them on there, I can see!" Chip yelled.

There was no time for Monty to yell back a response. The plane touched down against the branch, and bounced, nose over tail fin. The fuselage skidded sideways, snapping the starboard wing into pieces, and taking the smoking engine with it. The port wing broke away from the body completely, flying off to the side. The plane's body skidded onward, until finally…

CRASH!

The nose impacted against the tree, buckling the fuselage and throwing the occupant against the controls.

Chip started procedure to land the 'Eagle, bringing it down in a slow hover. Gadget came running out of the tree, as fast as her condition would allow. She stepped up onto what was left of the plane's wings, looking into the cockpit.
"Easy, kid," she said, leaning the pilot back from the dashboard. As he plopped back against the seat, her hands flew to her mouth. The young flier opened his eyes for a moment, squinting against the morning sun.

"Hi, Mom."

With those two words spoken, he lapsed into unconsciousness. Chip jumped from the landed 'Eagle, and walked carefully up beside her.

"Gadget? What's wrong?"
"He—he called me 'Mom'."

"Could have just been a delusion from his injuries."
"Could be. But explain this to me."
Reaching over, she jerked off the battered fedora the pilot was wearing. For once, Chip Maplewood was speechless. The face turned upward toward him…was human.

For the next few hours, chaos reigned inside Ranger Headquarters. Zipper was on lookout duty, watching carefully from the upper branches, in the case that the 'traveler' had been followed. Inside, Sparky and Tammy examined the young human with concern, and more than a little interest.

"Pretty healthy, all things considered," Tammy said. "Healthier than most humans I observe on a day to day basis. I'd say he's about fifteen years old, give or take."
"I concur," Sparky agreed. "He got a pretty hard knock on the head in that crash, and he's got a broken arm, but other than that, I think he's in pretty good shape."
"Thanks for the consultation, Doctor," Tammy joked, looking down at her charge. He was…handsome, for a human, she had to admit. Dark brown hair fell in gentle waves over his forehead, and he had a proud, well-sculpted jaw.

"How's the patient?" Chip asked, walking in with Gadget.

"He'll live. He'll be sore for a few days, while that arm starts to mend, but that should be all. He should be waking up any time now."

"That's what I'm worried about."
"And look at this," Gadget said. Reaching outside the door, she retrieved a piece of the stranger's plane, a small section of the hull that had chipped off. Emblazoned proudly across it was the familiar double-R, with a lightning bolt striking behind.

"So now we have the question," Chip mused, entering Sureluck Jones mode. "How did a pint-sized human get hold of a jazzed up copy of the Rangerwing, and why did he coming flying like a madman into Ranger HQ when it malfunctioned? He obviously knows who we are. But that doesn't explain why he called you 'Mom'," he said to his wife. "Delusion?"
"I…don't think so," she replied, nervously. "When he looked at me…there was plain, stark-clear recognition in his eyes. He knew who I was. The strange thing was…I felt like I knew him, too. Almost like a…"
"Maternal instinct?" Tammy supplied.

"Thank you."

"But he's a human! How could you know him?"

"I don't have the answers for you, Chip. I guess we'll find out soon enough."

"Hey guys," Sparky called. "He's waking up."
The Rescue Rangers gathered around the couch, where their visitor had been laid. The young man groaned, and blinked several times, taking in his surroundings. He was disoriented, confused.

"Ah geez, don't tell me Uncle Dale talked me into one of those all night monster marathons," he muttered thickly.

Surprise registered on the faces of all the Rangers. He knew Dale, too. Gadget sat down by him, and shook him gently.

"Um, hello? Can you hear me?"

At her touch, the human's eyes snapped open, and cleared. He sat bolt upright, staring at her.

"Mom?"

A wide grin spread across his features.

"It is you! I made it in time!" he cried, throwing his arms around Gadget. She gave Chip a confused and helpless look. The leader of the Rangers took the stranger by the arm, guiding him back against the couch.

"I think you're a bit confused, sir."

The boy lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Dad!"
He looked around at the others.
"Aunt Tammy! Uncle Sparky! You're all alive!"

The Rangers all cast worried glances on him. He looked around at them for a minute, and then his face fell.
"Ah, darnit, I forgot. You don't know me yet."

"Well, that we agree on," Gadget said. "Maybe you should start at the beginning, and…enlighten us."

"I'll be happy to, Mo—um, I guess Gadget would be better for now."

He stood up, and paced the floor, frustration showing on every feature.

"If I did my quantum geometric calculations correctly, then this is the year nineteen ninety, right?"

"Could've gotten that from a newspaper," Chip whispered.

"Sureluck Jones to the end, huh Da—Chip."

The boy continued his story.

"I'm from what will be to you the year two thousand ten. I traveled back to this time after the Rescue Rangers' final battle with Professor Norton Nimnul."

"Nimnul!" Chip spat. "I knew it! He's trying to infiltrate us!"

"Please, if he'd wanted to do that, he would have done it…well, that hasn't happened yet. Golly, I can't think of an example off the top of my head…"
Gadget sat silent with wonder. It was like hearing herself speak.

"Anyway," he continued, "I traveled back here on Nimnul's heels, to prevent…oh my God, I almost forgot what he did…"

He collapsed back to his seat, his head in his hands. Gadget patted him on the shoulder.

"It's all right, now. What did he do?"
He raised his head, tears streaming down his face.

"He killed all of you. I was the only one to escape."

The silence in the room was deafening.

"How?" Chip choked.

"Somehow, he developed a temporal incursion device. Mom had been tinkering with something like it, and I was able to use it in conjunction with the R-IV's overdrive to follow him back here. I don't know what he's coming to this time period to do, but it has something to do with a plot his current self is developing. He said they'd work together to destroy you. By my reckoning, though, he won't arrive for another week yet. If I did my numbers right."

"Explains the weird lookin' version of our 'Wing, mates," Monty said, as he entered from the runway. The human ran to the big mouse, grabbing him by the arm.

"Uncle Monty! I thought I'd never see you again either!"

Monterey looked more confused than the rest of the Rangers, and the traveler started to realize it.

"I guess I should explain why a human is referring to all of you as family."
"It would help," Gadget admitted. "But why don't you start by telling us your name?"
He looked into her eyes, and felt a glimmer of hope.

"My name is Sprocket. Sprocket Hackwrench."

Gadget looked as if she might faint at any minute. Her head was swimming from all of this. Sprocket looked at her curiously, then shook his head.

"Oh Lord, I forgot, this is the year Mariel was born…"

"You were going to explain yourself," she prodded him, trying to keep her faculties in check. Sprocket looked down at the floor.

"It's Nimnul's fault, really. My whole life has been Nimnul's fault."

He gazed out a nearby window, looking detached.

"My birth parents were killed in a lab accident at Syracuse University, shortly after I was born. I was taken into the system, to be adopted, as they had no other family. The thing was, I didn't get adopted. A couple of years passed, and the social workers figured I was a lost cause."
A tear trickled down Gadget's face. She had a very soft heart for people like this.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You haven't heard the best part yet," Sprocket said with a grimace. "When I was three years old, a little man came to the adoption agency, with an order from the Department of Welfare, saying that he was to pick up a child. The order was bogus, of course. Left to his own devices, he picked me up at random. He was gone before anyone found out the truth. That 'little man' was Norton Nimnul."

He squeezed his fists together at the emotions that welled up.

"As it turned out, Nimnul was conducting experiments with his 'gigantico-ray' again, and this time, he determined to use a human subject. I was that subject. After several weeks of preparation, he used that infernal gun on me. I was reduced to the size of a mousebabe in seconds. I never realized it, of course, even now I can't remember it. But I spent weeks in that lab, caged and being examined."

Monterey Jack growled deep in his throat.

"Blimey, Oi'd like to get me hands on that blighter after some business like this!"

"To make a long story short, Nimnul didn't last long in that location. The FBI busted him like they usually did. In the raid, the equipment locker where I was being kept was smashed. I toddled around the lab after everyone was gone, alone, scared, and, after a couple of days, getting close to starvation. I would have died, if someone hadn't found me."
"Us," Chip finished.

"Bingo. The Rescue Rangers investigated Nimnul's lab a couple of days after the raid, seeing if he'd left behind anything…or anyone, of value. Apparently, I was hiding under a cabinet when you all arrived. From what I'm told, I made some sort of noise, and Monterey Jack hauled me kicking and screaming from my hiding place. He didn't know what to make of me, naturally. But luckily for me, Mom was there."
"You mean me?" Gadget asked.

"Yes," he answered, looking back at the rest of the group. "The first real memory I have is of being held against the jacket of a pair of coveralls, and the smell of jasmine and machine oil."

"That's our Gadget," Monty chuckled. "So wot 'appened, son?"

"To sum it all up, Gadget and Chip…Mom and Dad to me, took me in, and raised me like their own child. I grew up with the Rescue Rangers, learning to fight crime and defend the right in whatever way possible. My IQ turned out to be about as high as Mom's, so she taught me everything about the sciences, mechanics, and inventing. You all gave me a home," he said, his face shining brightly. "You became my family."

He shook his head.

"Until Nimnul did it to me again, and took you all away from me. Mom literally faded away in my arms, while I tried to prep the Rangerwing to save us," he said, breaking into uncontrollable sobs.

Something inside Gadget made her reach out. She pulled the teenager to her, and cradled his head against her shoulder.

"Shhh, it's all right now. Don't cry, baby."

He lifted his head a little.
"That was one of the last things you said to me. I thought…I thought I'd never see you again…never be able to touch you again."

She smiled a little awkwardly, and stroked his hair in her best motherly manner.

"Well, you may be a little unfamiliar for the moment, but one thing you don't have to worry about. In this time, I'm here for you."

"We all are, me liddle bucko," Monty said. "We'll get to the bottom o' this, an' get everythin' back to normal for ya!"

Chip reached down, and gripped the human's…his son's, shoulder.

"Yes, we will. I promise," he said.