Chapter 13

The United North American Kingdom
Five years later

It had been another short summer. The calendar said it was already time for fall, yet some of the trees were only just beginning to blossom. After the UNA Kingdom's war with Eurasia decades ago, this nuclear winter was still leaving its impact on the world climate.

In spite of that, PJ had prospered again this year, and in preparation for the onset of another long, cold winter, he had nothing to fear as far as rations went. He had more than enough food, and he'd prepared several extra piles of firewood this time, to make sure his small cabin would stay nice and toasty. It wasn't much when he remembered what his old life was like, but compared to his brutal first winter here, this was living the high life.

He'd found a spring that gave him a constant source of fresh, clean water. A lake close by, fed by the spring's runoff, had an abundance of fish, now that the villagers were no longer overfishing it. And whenever he wanted something else to eat, he could always steal rations from the Kingdom's new guard post that had been erected over Villagetown's ruins.

His latest project, which he'd been working on all day, had been experimenting with brick-making. He dreamed this year of reinforcing his cabin with brick to insulate it better, but he decidedly did not have Phineas and Ferb's constructing abilities. It was slow going, and he hadn't figured out how long to heat the mud to make the brick waterproof. The problem could also lie in his fire kiln, which might not be getting hot enough. He'd baked three trial bricks today, which he'd test in the lake tomorrow after they cooled.

That plan lingered in his mind as he slogged up his little trail to home. The walk wasn't far, soon he was laying his tools out on the porch before stepping inside to make dinner.

He was pretty proud of the cabin he'd built, using the examples from Villagetown's ruins to learn the architectural basics and such. Therein lay his struggles in brick-making, he didn't have many examples to observe in the ruins, and certainly no one to show him how to make them, as opposed to stacking logs, which was pretty intuitive. The cabin itself was small with a low roof―make it too spacious and it would cost more firewood to keep warm, and it's not like he needed the headspace of a human-sized dwelling. Since there wasn't a lot of room, he only kept the essentials inside: cooking utensils, his hand-made rocking chair he always sat in when keeping warm by the fire, the straw mat with his favorite blankets made of sheep's wool from the village, a bladder he filled with water at the spring every morning. Survival was a simple life, filled with hard work, but he'd healed here. It was home.

Dinner consisted of the usual fish, worms, and insect larvae he'd caught that dawn at his lake. After eating, he rocked peacefully in his chair by the fire, as per his usual nightly routine, remembering his old life with the Flynns. The same questions ran through his mind that did every night.

What had happened to them? By this point, he'd imagined so many scenarios, but one always came back to him. After all, he knew so very well what the protocol for a nuclear threat to the Capitol was. As far as he knew, Isabella was at the White House that day. If the President was in the White House when the Secret Service learned of the nuclear threat, with no chance of evacuation due to the EMP, she would most likely have been whisked to the underground nuclear shelter buried beneath the residence. So would Phineas, if he was there―if he was away working, then he'd have been safe from the bomb anyways.

Unfortunately, Marie would not have been so lucky. If she were home, that's where she'd be brought, too; but it was a school day. The thought made PJ's heart catch in his throat. She was almost certainly still at school when the EMP hit. Due to the riots downtown, the school might have been on lockdown, but he wasn't sure. Either way, she would have had her bodyguard with her, which was good, but they'd have been stranded by the EMP, like everyone else. There was no telling what they'd have done after that. They might have decided to walk all the way to the White House, or maybe they followed their classmates to one of the Conspirium evacuation towers. He really hoped they didn't do that, the thought of what Suzy Johnson would do if Marie were delivered to her on a silver platter scared him more than anything.

No. Phineas and Isabella would find a way to get her to the bomb shelter. Isabella had always fought her bodyguards tooth-and-nail over protecting her husband and daughter more than herself. If he knew her, the only way the Secret Service would be locking her up inside the White House's nuclear bunker without Marie and Phineas would be over her dead body. They'd have found a way to get Marie to safety. After all, this was Phineas and Isabella Flynn we're talking about here! They can do anything!

He hoped so desperately that were true, but the reality was, this future, he couldn't imagine it existing if Phineas and Ferb and Isabella survived. And he'd snooped around enough UNA Kingdom outposts, picking up on things that had happened during his time jump, to see the writing on the wall. He'd probably never know the full details, but as much as he hoped and wished he was wrong, prospects weren't good. Ultimately, if Phineas and Ferb had survived, they'd have stopped the Conspirium long ago. They hadn't. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out.

He forced himself to stop thinking about it whenever he reached that depressing conclusion.

Back in the good timeline, of course, thanks to time travel, most people already knew the time and circumstances surrounding their eventual deaths. Curiously enough, everyone dealt with that morbid knowledge in their own unique ways, just like they do with everything. For example, in PJ's case, he'd never wanted to know, preferring to leave it a mystery so he could live in the now. Phineas, on the other hand, was optimistic as always in the face of his own mortality, to the point of practically ignoring it―he talked more about all the cool things his future self was going to do than he did of his actual death. Everyone handled death differently, but thanks to advanced medicine and time travel, it was rare for people not to die happy of old age. Back in the good timeline.

Before he knew it, PJ was dozing off in his rocking chair next to the fireplace. Not wanting to fall asleep in that spot, he got up to stretch before stoking the coals gently. Then, stifling a yawn, he laid down on his bed to sleep.

As usual, PJ rose at the crack of dawn to hunt and fish. He passed by his kiln on the way to the lake, which looked like it had cooled sufficiently overnight. He'd be back later to see how his bricks turned out.

His hunting technique had improved vastly over his time spent living alone in the wilderness. He was now skilled with using both a spear and a net on his dives. Soon, he had caught plenty of fresh food, more than enough to last him through the day. He let some of his prey go and carried the rest home as the sun began to rise.

After breakfast, he returned to the location of his kiln in a field just down the trail from his cabin. The three bricks he'd made the previous day had acquired a rougher texture and a sturdier level of hardness, and made a 'thunking' noise when he tapped them, which seemed like good signs. He carried one of them with him to the lake to see how the waterproofing went.

His fishing nets were still drying on the rocks where he'd left them. After fetching one of his old failed experiments to compare results with, he set the bricks on the shore and began pouring water over them with one of his sheepskin bladders. He tried pouring water hard and fast as well as soft and slow, simulating rain and heavy storms as best he could. The old brick visibly dissolved under the water he continually poured, eventually splitting into two smaller pieces after a few good splashes. His new brick, however, seemed to be holding up strong. He picked it up to feel it, pleased that it seemed to resist the water completely. His experiment had been a success! Phineas and Marie would have been proud if they could see him now!

Now that he'd figured out the correct mixture of clays and the right amount of baking time, he needed to expand his kiln, to make mass production more efficient. He went to work, daylight was a burnin'.

The labor could be considered backbreaking by some. PJ had to dig for a fresh supply of clays and mud, then carry the materials from the lake up to his mixing hole in a basket weaved of twigs and tree bark, where he added water and churned the mucky mess underfoot until it achieved a doughy texture. Any rocks or pebbles had to be removed by hand. Once all that was done, the clay was ready to be molded. He'd fashioned a square mold for this job a few days prior, to which he applied fish oils to lubricate the sides so that the mud would cleanly slide out of the mold, retaining its rectangular shape.

It was already mid-afternoon by the time he was ready to start with the actual brick making. With the mold in hand, he packed it with clay, leveled the top, and laid it all on a flat, even surface before sliding the mold off, to start the process again. The soft, squishy blocks needed time to dry and solidify before they could be stackable for the kiln. Drying took about a day. Then he'd use these blocks to expand his kiln, at which point he could finally start with actually baking bricks. It was a slow and difficult process. Despite that fact, he found a simple pleasure in the manual labor.

The hours quietly slipped by while he toiled in the forest clearing. Nothing out of the ordinary was going on, it was just another typical day.

Until, as he was running out of mixing clay, he heard a distinct popping noise somewhere very close by in the forest, one that was all too familiar.

The sound of a time machine exiting the slipspace rupture, jumping back into the regular flow of time.

PJ jumped up, holding his breath, listening. Was his mind playing tricks on him?

Moments later, he heard the also familiar sound of the Kingdom's flying motorcycles overhead. Four Conspirium hovercraft passed by overhead, not seeming to notice PJ in the small clearing below them. They were flying low, as if preparing for landing.

Swiftly realizing what had just happened, PJ blasted off in the direction of the noise, the direction the flying motorcycles were heading. He could hear the noisy engines rumbling only a few hundred yards away. A minute later, slightly winded, PJ ducked in cover behind an exposed tree stump and watched as eight Kingdom soldiers dismounted from their vehicles and approached a genuine, bona fide time machine.

The door to the time machine opened, and its frame was filled by a tall, caucasian male who appeared to be in the prime of his twenties. The man was long-legged and athletically built; while his muscles weren't exactly large, they were well enough defined to show that he kept a toned physique. Something about him looked strangely familiar to PJ.

"Hello," he said, casually approaching the Kingdom soldiers. "Can you help me? I think I'm lost. I'm looking for the Emerald Galaxies Resort, I booked a space cruise with them, can I get some directions?"

The Kingdom soldiers looked at each other and shared a quick laugh before their leader extracted his machine gun and aimed it at the lost time traveler. "You're under arrest!"

In an instant, the time traveler's face went pale. He raised his hands over his head. "Sorry, did I end up in the wrong country? I'm an American, I have my traveling documents with me! I'm sure this is just a simple mistake, a computer glitch, or something…"

"You hear that, boys? He's an American! Now he's broken two laws!" the soldier said, and the others laughed again.

"Ha ha heh," the American laughed with them, thinking it was a joke, until he realized they were serious. "Wait, it's illegal to be an American here? Where the heck am I?

The leader chuckled. "Welcome to the United North American Kingdom, bub."

Confusion showing all over his face, the unfortunate time traveler was surrounded by the Kingdom soldiers and handcuffed.

While no one was watching, PJ made his move. Taking on all the armed soldiers head-on was suicide. So he improvised, and decided to create a diversion. He climbed onto one of the flying motorcycles without being noticed, flipped a switch to start its engine, and took off into the sky.

The soldiers turned around when they heard the engine firing up. "Hey, what's going on?" All they saw was a metallic streak as the hovercraft shot off. They ran to their own speeders and gave chase―all but the two men whose speeder PJ took, who watched on from the ground with stupefied expressions.

PJ glanced back over his shoulder to see three flying motorcycles chasing after him. All as one, the Kingdom soldiers lowered goggles down over their faces and leaned forward, becoming more aerodynamic. PJ revved his engine. While the pilots were focused on the flying, the copilots extracted their guns and opened fire.

At the sound of gunfire, PJ veered side to side, trying to make himself as difficult as possible to hit while at the same time trying to see if he could shake the men on his tail. They kept pace without difficulty, managing to not only keep in his wake but to even close some of the distance. He attempted a loop-de-loop to get behind them and gain the advantage of the chase, but the three other motorcycles kept right up with him, looping in sync. At this point, one of the motorcycles broke formation with the other two to fly ahead, cutting PJ off.

Without goggles, the wind was forcing PJ to squint, and he didn't see the third motorcycle make its move. He was glancing over his shoulder, wondering why there were only two behind him, when he checked ahead of him and saw the third flying straight at him. The soldier piloting in front was grinning widely, clearly proud of his accomplishment, while his co-pilot reloaded the machine gun strapped around his shoulders, preparing to take aim. Panicking, PJ let go of the thruster, causing his motorcycle to stall, and he started to fall towards the forest canopy.

The pilot ahead watched him plummet, a look of disappointment written on his face, before looking up to see he was about to collide with his fellow motorcyclists. The soldier screamed and smashed into one of the others, creating a fireball and wicked explosion. The last motorcycle veered to the side, avoiding damage.

PJ revved the handlebar, trying to break his fall. Just as he was about to crash into the trees below, the bike engine caught, and he shot forward again, just narrowly avoiding the canopy. By keeping his altitude low, the last motorcycle was forced to descend to skirting the treetops to continue the chase. PJ picked the most dangerous route he could, weaving in and out of the highest branches, giving him the added benefit of cover from more gunfire.

The other motorcycle zigged and zagged along behind him, keeping pace. They were flying in the direction of PJ's lake. At that moment, PJ remembered there were some cliffs at the far side of the lake. He lowered his speed and ducked completely beneath the forest canopy, still keeping as high a speed as he could without crashing. The other motorcycle was right on his tail. He bobbed and weaved continuously, forcing his pursuers to keep on their toes or crash in the branches themselves. Knowing the cliffs were not much farther ahead, PJ squinted through the brush, trying to find the best trapping point. He zagged through the last few trees and there it was, the cliff face. He pulled up sharply, climbing into the sky.

The other motorcycle wasn't ready for that move. The pilots failed to see the cliff in time, and before they could pull up, they smashed at full speed into the rocks.

PJ pumped his fist victoriously. He directed his speeder back in the direction of the time machine, quickly returning to the spot. On the ground, the last two Kingdom soldiers were still standing there, watching him. As he pulled in for a landing, they lifted their machine guns to fire at him. He ducked behind the tiny windshield and drove his bike straight towards them. Although they fired a few rounds, when they saw the imminent crash, they dove out of the way.

Moving quickly, PJ bailed from the bike midair, letting it crash somewhere into the trees in the distance. He pounced on the closer soldier, grabbed the gun out of his hands, and knocked him out with the butt of the weapon before quickly aiming it at the other soldier. The last man raised himself to his feet, but PJ was too fast, squeezing the trigger just as the soldier brought up his gun. Rat-a-tat! The man went down with a thud.

With that, PJ lowered his sights and looked over at the time traveler. "You alright?"

The unfortunate fellow was crouched on the ground a few feet away with his arms shielding his head. Letting himself relax, he answered, "Yeah, I'm good. Who were those guys?"

"Soldiers from the UNA Kingdom. They constantly scan the entire continent for time machine radiation and dispatch teams to destroy every time machine that arrives and arrest anyone from the past."

The time traveler got his first good look at PJ and stopped short. "Hey, I know you!" he said. "You're PJ the platypus!"

PJ raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Have we met somewhere? You look sort of familiar."

"Yes, yes we have! In Danville, actually. I spent a lot of time there, back in the good ol' days, and we crossed paths once or twice. You see, I'm a huge fan of Phineas and Ferb."

"Aha." Danville could be a pilgrimage of sorts for fans of the boys. Irving Du Bois, a childhood friend of theirs, had erected a large museum close to the location of their original backyard, where they built all their projects as kids. "I'm glad you didn't confuse me with Perry, my father. A lot of Phineas' and Ferb's fans have mistaken me for him."

"Ha, amateurs," the time traveler smirked. "A true fan like myself could easily deduce that Perry couldn't possibly be here, so I immediately knew it was, instead, you! Plus, he couldn't talk."

He acted a bit more eccentric when he spoke of Phineas and Ferb, it was slightly off-putting. "Right," PJ said.

"I'm Michael, by the way," the man said, extending his hands, which were still cuffed, to shake.

"Oh, let me get that for you," PJ said, turning down the handshake to grab the key card from the soldier's belt and swiping it across the lock, releasing him.

"Thanks," Michael offered.

"Hold on to your thanks for now," PJ quickly said, "because I'm going to need to take your time machine. It's a matter of national security."

"I figured you say that," shrugged the man. "The thing is, I had it biometrically assigned to me. No one except me can drive it."

"Then you're taking me back to the past with you." PJ gripped the gun in his hands a little tighter, just in case. He wasn't letting another time machine slip through his fingers.

"Sure, no problem," Michael responded, not noticing PJ's tenseness as he turned to walk back to his time machine. "Where and when am I dropping you off? Hey, PJ? You alright?"

Approaching the machine was like walking towards a fallen telephone pole with exposed live wires. As PJ tiptoed toward the device, he was overcome by the most eerie, confused, and somewhat nostalgic of feelings. Like deja vu, only―not? Words failed to describe it adequately.

"Are you okay?" repeated Michael.

Trying to shake the strange feeling off, PJ said, "I just thought I'd never see one of these again." He slid a hand along the chassis, as if needing to confirm it was really there.

Michael was watching him with a somewhat pitying look. "If you need a minute, I can―"

"No, let's get going," PJ said, not wanting to chance spending another second in this timeline. He climbed into the passenger's seat and buckled himself it.

"As a lazy tailor would say," Michael responded, flipping the switch to the ignition, "suit yourself." He then chuckled at his joke before again inquiring, "So, where―and when―are we going?"

The answer to that question had been at the forefront of PJ's mind ceaselessly for the last five years.

Danville, USA
July 4, 2049

The Museum was closed for the holiday, so there was no one around to notice when the hall labelled "Gadgets Through The Ages" suddenly flared brilliantly with a strange, otherworldly illumination. A dark figure, caught by surprise as the unexpected guest materialized into view, shielded its eyes from the flash.

PJ the platypus stepped out from hiding to confront Suzy Johnson. "Hold it right there, Suzy!" he said, extending a finger. "I finally got you!" He held up the futuristic machine gun he'd brought along and leveled it at the extremely confused assassin.

The look on her face was the picture of bamboozlement. "Huh?"