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As a research vessel, Deepstar Five was never intended for combat…as such, her defenses were not focused on surviving combat, but rather on avoiding it entirely. While she carried no shields and no weapons, she was still equipped with a cloaking device and a set of sensor jammers. And though not as sophisticated as the protective fields aboard the company's spy ships, these measures were still more than sufficient to hide Deepstar Five from any but the most concentrated enemy scans. Now both the cloak and the jamming systems were activated as the ship broke through Earth's atmosphere, rendering her invisible to radar…as for the naked eye, it would have detected nothing more than the faintest transparent blur. The only "witnesses" to her descent were the crewmen of a Russian cargo ship sailing near Iceland; the ship's log would make note of a loud, anomalous sound that startled the crew shortly after their noontime meal. The noise sounded like a sonic boom at low altitude…only the sky was completely clear, and no aircraft was ever seen. Aside from this one brief encounter, there was no indication at all that a spacecraft carrying tiny men from the Moon was preparing to land on Earth. Deepstar Five turned slightly southward, crossed Ireland and then the western coast of England, and followed the Thames River from its source directly to the city of London. Invisible, and inaudible over the bustle of activity on the ground, the spacecraft drifted low over the city and headed for the unmistakable candy factory of Mr. William Wonka.

London, England

Deepstar Five came to a halt in midair. No one spoke…just stared. Theoretical physics and shifts in the stars were one thing, but this was something else. There could be no more mistaking it, no more pretending. They were sitting five hundred feet in the air, looking down at the great Chocolate Factory of the original Willy Wonka. We've gone back in time. We have actually and undeniably gone back in time. SC-80 grinned. "You can take her a little lower, gents." There was a brief hesitation, and then the pilots' curiosity got the better of them…Deepstar Five dropped to within a hundred feet of the ground, hovering over the courtyard of Willy Wonka's enormous Chocolate Factory. There was no doubt that this was it; an enormous stylized "W" was emblazoned in purple over the main entrance doors, and a row of trucks painted in shiny Wonka livery sat in a neat line beside the enormous loading dock. Smoke and steam poured from countless stacks atop the massive facility, but there was not a soul to be seen moving anywhere on the premises. Given his experience with Wonka's technology, SC-80 honestly wondered for a moment whether or not some type of security system might detect the cloaked spacecraft, but his fear was ungrounded. Well, it still was not guaranteed…someone in the facility might conceivably have known they were there, but there was no indication of it. No hidden missile batteries or anything, SC-80 thought wryly. A friendlier age in the history of Wonka.

"May the Fuhrer forgive me," IP-77 said, "but I'm a bit disappointed. I always imagined it bigger."

"Well," IP-101 said mildly, "you have to remember that this factory was only meant to supply a planet. We didn't have the rest of the solar system yet...or, I guess we don't, if you actually consider this as the present."

"This is unbelievable," Research Associate 46 said, his voice faint with wonder.

"I'm just sorry we can't actually go in," RP-18 added sadly.

"What do you mean we can't go in?" 46 asked, his tone suddenly defensive. "You mean we're going to come all this way and…"

"And what? Mr. Wonka might believe our story, but what about the rest of our people? This is before the advent of cloning. What would you do if a group of identical beings showed up claiming to be from the future and politely informing you that they were the ultimate culmination of your race?"

"That couldn't happen, because we're already identical."

The Doctor snorted. "You know what I mean. Psychology is difficult to predict. Who knows the effect that it would have on the Oompa-Loompas if they ultimately knew their own future? We can't go meddling about in the past…not on that level anyway. We could change the course of everything, inadvertently write ourselves out of the future and just pop out of existence…or else create some sort of branch universe and annihilate our own in the process. We have to be careful."

Several seconds of silence filled the bridge. "So…no pressure then," RA-48 finally said, and in the strangeness of the situation the line seemed much funnier than it was.

"We may not be able to go into the factory," SC-80 said, "but I still intend to collect some proof that we were here. Take us back up and look for a landing site." Deepstar Five lifted smoothly and had not risen much higher than the top of the Chocolate Factory's smokestacks when IP-101 pointed.

"There, sir." A large vacant lot lay no more than three blocks away, the last remnants of a demolished tract of buildings. Some piles of debris and a few pieces of heavy equipment dotted the site, but there was presently no activity.

"Can you fit her in there?"

"Shouldn't be a problem. We can swing the tail in beside those two tractors."

"Very well, then. Set her down." The ship yawed smoothly to the right, circling over the enormous main building of the Chocolate Factory, and within thirty seconds the craft was easing down between an enormous heap of ruined masonry and a pair of large front-end loaders. The ship settled onto her landing struts with a slight tremor, the steady hum of the lifters fading as they powered down. The main engines had already been cut in order to reduce noise, and now the bridge was completely quiet save for the occasional chirp from the computers. The landing zone was perfect; high chain-link fencing surrounded the cleared lot, strips of green plastic wound through the links to block any view from outside. The construction site was also clearly closed down, at least temporarily…there would be no risk of someone walking in unaware and crashing face-first into the side of the invisible starship. SC-80 stood. "While I know that all of you must be curious, I must insist that three men go out while the other three remain with the ship. I'll lead the exploration team." He turned to RP-18. "How are your calculations coming, Doctor?"

"Another hour, perhaps two."

"Will you object if I ask you to stay with the ship and finish?"

"I intend to."

"Good." Both IP-77 and IP-101 had stood up. "I want one of you to remain here to protect the Doc. And, if something really goes wrong, I need someone to remain who can pilot the ship."

77 nodded. "I'll do it. I've never been much of a tourist anyway. Just bring me a keychain or something."

The Captain smiled. "All right." He glanced over at the two Research Associates. "I need one more man to stay here. It's your choice."

RA-46 looked over at RA-48. "You can go. I'll stay here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I think I've had enough excitement for today."

"All right. Well…I mean…thanks." 48 and 101 both moved to the rear of the bridge and descended the ladder to the cargo hold.

The Captain looked 77 directly in the eye. "I want one thing to be perfectly clear, pilot. If, for some reason, we get into trouble and I order you to leave without us…you do it. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The Captain nodded. "Good. 77, you have the ship." Following 101 and 48 down the ladder, SC-80 moved over to one of the equipment lockers. "I for one don't fancy walking around London in a spacesuit…I don't know about you two." He opened the locker and pulled out a trio of black bodysuits, much lighter and less restrictive than the gear they were currently wearing. The three Oompa-Loompas quickly shed their bulky vacuum suits, trading them out for the lighter exploration gear. 48 had some trouble getting into his suit, but 101 quickly sorted him out. Once the bodysuits were properly in place, the three Oompa-Loompas donned matching, lightweight helmets. After performing a quick communications check, the Captain passed out video recording modules, which clipped to the right side of the visors. Switching their devices on, the Captain and 101 each touched a button on the left forearm of their suits, fading to invisibility…48 found the correct key and followed suit a moment later. Nothing more than a vague and occasional shimmer in the air could be seen as the Captain crossed to the control panel for the ramp and touched the appropriate button. With a faint hiss of hydraulics, the ramp lowered, allowing the three Oompa-Loompas to step onto solid ground for the first time.

It was a beautiful winter's day, cold but clear; snow lay in a crisp blanket over the city, crowning the otherwise ugly heaps of rubble around the construction site. SC-80 drew a deep breath, savoring the various unfamiliar aromas of the city, and then turned to the two Loompas behind him. Though they were invisible to observers, filters within their visors allowed the three to see each other clearly; behind their transparent face shields, the other two wore broad smiles. They had never been to Earth before…not like this, anyway. SC-80 grinned and could not help but use one of the Fuhrer's trademark expressions. "Gentlemen, as a great man once said…'let's boogie!'" And with that, he turned and led the way toward the double gates leading out of the construction site. The barrier was chained shut, but fortunately the chain was sufficiently loose that it did not have to be cut; by pushing one gate outward and pulling the other in, a gap could be created that would easily admit an Oompa-Loompa. The three pushed through the opening and found themselves on a closed section of sidewalk. But though they were alone in their immediate area, there were people everywhere around…cars hissed through the pulverized slush in the street just ahead, and pedestrians crowded the sidewalk on the far side. SC-80 had honestly never seen so many humans in his life before, and he found himself intrigued rather than intimidated. Turning right, he led his two fellows under the low wooden safety barrier which had been placed to close off their stretch of sidewalk, and then the three Oompa-Loompas were walking the streets of London.

The novelty of an expedition to Earth combined itself with the novelty of being years in the past, and the result was a world that felt as alien as any out in the depths of space. Research Associate 48 was the most fascinated of all, having never been outside the Lunar Base; while his education had shown him the mother planet, his reaction in person was far different. The trio of Oompa-Loompas exchanged frequent comments…laughing at this, puzzling at that…their differences in rank and service temporarily forgotten. So long as they did not get too loud, the three could speak freely, their headgear ensuring that they would not be heard; avoiding collisions with fellow pedestrians, however, was far more difficult and demanded constant attention. The three Oompa-Loompas took a side street and rounded a corner, heading steadily in the direction of the giant smokestacks of the Wonka Chocolate Factory; at last, they stood before the giant gates, looking through the bars in awe. RA-48's face bore a look of rapture, something almost spiritual…as if he were gazing into the realm of the gods. Though his stoic expression did not betray it, SC-80 felt the same thing. A vague warm current wafted a mixture of delicious aromas down to the trio, comfortingly familiar; SC-80 closed his eyes and breathed deeply. This was where it had all begun. Finally, though he did not wish to leave, the Captain tapped the other two on their shoulders and turned back toward the street. "Come on, boys." While he was enjoying himself, SC-80 had not forgotten what the primary task was: while a video record was good, he wanted some solid piece of proof. He keyed his radio, opening a channel to the ship. "Do you read me, Doctor?"

"Loud and clear. We're watching the feed from your cameras, and I must say I'm having a hard time concentrating on my work."

"I'm trying to find something solid, something to show we were actually here. Any problems with taking an object?"

"I'm only dealing in theory, of course…I've never traveled through time before, and so I can hardly give you an official answer. I wouldn't think there'd be a problem, so long as you take something that won't be missed…and which has the date, if possible. We still don't know exactly when we are."

"Newspaper," IP-101 said simply, pointing to a newspaper vending machine further down the street. The three Oompa-Loompas hurried down the sidewalk and drew up in front of the machine. Obviously they could not actually get a paper without either money or vandalism…but, now that it was mentioned, the question of the exact date suddenly seemed to take on paramount importance. How far back had they come? But when they actually saw the paper, the date was not what they focused on. What instantly grabbed their attention instead was the headline: FIFTH GOLDEN TICKET A FAKE!

Both RA-48 and IP-101 looked at the Captain, who was staring disbelievingly at the paper. "It can't be…" His face slowly split into a broad smile, mirroring the expressions on the faces of the other two. He peered at the date on the paper. "January 31...the day before the factory tour."

"10 A.M. tomorrow," IP-101 said. "At 10 A.M. tomorrow, Mr. Willy Wonka will open the gates of his factory for the first time in a decade. Tomorrow, Charlie Bucket will be made heir to the company."

"We arrived on the last day of the Golden Ticket Contest," RA-48 said, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "Just think…we could be there when they go through the gates. We could see the heir himself…Charlie Bucket."

"No," SC-80 said, obviously hating the word as he said it. "We have to gather our evidence and return. If the good Doctor's right, I'm not willing to risk jeopardizing one of the most critical days in the history of the company…not for any reason."

"It's only twenty-four hours!" 48 pleaded. "Less in fact!"

"I'm sorry but no," 80 repeated, his tone resolute. "Now, I'm going to get one of these damned newspapers if I have to disassemble this machine piece by…"

But, at that exact moment, a passing man in a long tweed coat slammed a copy of the exact same newspaper onto the lip of the garbage can beside the vending machine. "Bastard faking a ticket…the nerve of some people…" He was obviously both irritated and in a hurry; by consequence, he did not bother to see if his newspaper actually landed in the trash or not. And so it bounced off the side and landed directly in front of SC-80 like some gift from the gods, a bit crumpled but otherwise serviceable. The Oompa-Loompa snatched the paper up and had it folded in his suit the instant it touched the ground.

The Captain grinned. "I'd rather have the one from the actual day of the tour, of course, but this is almost as good. And this paper is also more difficult for anyone to claim that we faked…I mean, we all know the story of the actual tour, but who knows the details of how…" He opened the paper and read the Russian boy's name with difficulty, "…faked a Golden Ticket? Now this is evidence."

RA-48 still looked dejected, but his expression brightened as he spotted something on the next block…a candy shop. "Say, is anyone else hungry?"

"I could go for something," IP-101 said. "How about you, Cap?"

"I suppose. Only one problem: what about money? I mean, stealing most stuff is one thing, but stealing candy…that's just wrong."

"Oh…" 48's face fell again, and the three Oompa-Loompas turned to head back to the ship. But they had not gone more than ten feet when 48 suddenly looked down and pointed at something stuck in a pile of snow in the gutter. "Say, what's that?"

"What's what?"

"That." 48 sloshed off the sidewalk, sinking up to his knee in snow, and plucked the object out of the drift. It was, unmistakably, money…a ten-pound bill, to be exact. 48 looked at the other two and then back down the street to the candy shop; no one said anything, just fell into line behind him.

"I'm having a thought," IP-101 said to the Captain. "Something else we could bring back as proof."

"What?"

"Some Chadworth candy. It's no longer in production anywhere in the world…in our time, I mean. Right?"

"Right."

"And we had a bunch of samples for study, but the last of those expired and were destroyed a couple of years ago. Right?"

"At least a couple years, probably more. I like it. Since Chadworth Industries' candy products no longer exist anywhere in the world…"

"And no one in their right mind would save the stuff to eat when we have access to Wonka sweets…"

"We take some back, and show the Fuhrer some fresh ancient candy. Excellent."

The three Oompa-Loompas stopped short at the door to the candy shop; an elderly woman and her grandson were just preparing to go inside, and the Captain used the opportunity to catch the door and hold it open for his comrades before silently slipping inside himself. Ten pounds was enough to buy quite a bit of candy…48 naturally had to have a Wonka bar to tide him over, and three bars of Chadworth chocolate would be enough to validate their story. But that still left money over, and it was not as if they could get change. Naturally, the trio could have just overpaid, but the Captain hated when he did not get his money's worth. He radioed the ship. "Anyone want anything while we're here?"

"No thanks," 77 replied. "We've got our own provisions…in fact we just finished eating."

"Right." The Captain tapped 101 on the shoulder. "Grab three more of those Chadworth bars, will you?"

"Uh…yes, sir. May I ask why?"

"I think we should try them. We get to eat Wonka sweets every day of our lives, and sometimes I wonder if we really appreciate them. So let's try the competition and see just how much better our stuff is."

"Sir, that's approaching treason. Actively supporting the enemy…"

The Captain snorted. "I don't think five pounds' worth of extra business is going to result in Chadworth eventually winning the war. Now grab me some of that nasty candy, soldier. That's an order."

"Yes, sir."

The radio crackled, and the Doctor's voice suddenly spoke. "Gentlemen, calculations for the return jump are complete. We're ready as soon as you're all back onboard. And please no Chadworth candy for me. I tried it once, and I don't feel compelled to do it again."

"That bad?" the Captain asked.

"No, just uh…well, you'll see."

101 darted through a group of customers and came to stand beside the Captain, who was utilizing the relative safety of an end display as cover from the shop's occupants. "Got it, sir."

"Anything else for you, 48?"

"No," came back the somewhat muffled reply…48 already had the wrapper off of his Wonka bar and had wedged it up under his visor.

"All right. Here, give me that money." Sliding smoothly between a group of schoolchildren and the wall, the Captain made his way over to the cash register. Unable to actually reach the counter, he waited until the shopkeeper's back was turned before boosting himself up on a shelf and depositing the ten-pound bill on the register. Hopping down, he gestured to his comrades, and they followed a quartet of particularly rambunctious schoolboys out through the door of the shop. The proprietor turned around almost immediately afterward and was mystified as to who had placed money on top of his register…after a brief pause, he shrugged and deposited the bill in his cash drawer.

"Let's see if we can't find a quiet spot for a break," the Captain said, turning into the narrow alley beside the candy shop; finding the cover of a recessed doorway, he and his two fellows took the opportunity to remove their headgear and sample some of what the ten pounds had bought. The Captain gingerly unwrapped one end of a bar of plain Chadworth milk chocolate, broke off a large piece, and placed it in his mouth, allowing it to melt slowly on his tongue. He offered the bar to the other two, and they each took a piece as well.

IP-101 frowned. "It's…"

"A little too sweet."

"Didn't put in enough actual chocolate…"

"And so compensated with too much sugar."

"Sad, really."

"An amateur mistake."

"It could have been so much better."

"But, all the same, there's something almost familiar about it."

"Well, the original Fuhrer did work with the Chadworths after all, once upon a time. I suppose there's a possibility that maybe his recipes and theirs…"

"I'll forget you said that. The Secret Police wouldn't appreciate that kind of talk."

"Yes, of course. Forgive me. I just have to wonder, though."

"Indeed. Well, gentlemen, I think it's time we were getting back to our own time. I really am sorry, 48," the Captain said, placing a hand on the young scientist's shoulder. "I wish we could stay for the beginning of the tour tomorrow…I really do."

"It's all right, sir. I understand."

The Captain nodded and replaced his hood, leading the way down the alley to the next street. The Oompa-Loompas followed it and then cut through another alley to reach the construction site, where their ship was ready and waiting. It was just chance that they did not return by their original route, but…if they had…they would have encountered a particular person on the sidewalk. He was a boy of twelve years, rather small and thin, his clothes worn and patched. He too stopped outside the gates of the Chocolate Factory and paused, taking in the sight and the smells with something akin to veneration. Indeed, in another iteration of history, he would have had the chance to go inside that amazing factory, to experience its wonders for himself. And RA-48 would have had his chance to see the heir in person, for this boy's name was Charlie Bucket. But, alas, it was not to be. Charlie Bucket walked on past the gates of the Wonka factory. In another iteration of history, he would have glimpsed a bit of waving paper protruding from the snow…he would have picked up the ten-pound note himself and run to the same candy shop, where he would have purchased the Wonka Whipple-Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight Bar that held the final…and legitimate…Golden Ticket. But none of that was to be.

If the Oompa-Loompas of Deepstar Five could have known what they had done, they undoubtedly would have rushed back. They would have replaced the money; they would have searched for the bar with the Golden Ticket themselves and would have done whatever necessary to see that it ended up in Charlie Bucket's possession. But they remained blissfully ignorant as their ship climbed out of Earth's atmosphere and vanished in a brilliant flare of light, now on their way back to a future which was no longer their own.