"…only the greatest movie of all time," Peters was explaining, as they drove back. "Basically made Emma Farndale's career. Damn, could that woman act!" The car turned left, as — outside — it began to rain. "Farndale's part-human, you know. Born on Earth — true story!"

"I bet you've got Farndale pinups all over your bedroom," Hopper muttered.

"Hey, I'm a young guy," Peters pointed out, with a shrug. "I've not had a chance to watch a lot of movies. But Zillwell's movies — I've seen them all." He leaned back. "Saw Zillwell's Minority Report in real time. Really! Best two hours I ever wasted."

Jenny had never been a movie person.

Footage and facts and documentaries — those she'd seen lots of. But actual in-studio movies, the kind with plot and fiction and story? Not her style at all.

After all. What was the use in watching a movie, when you had a time machine? Could go off and have adventures yourself, instead of watching other people have them!

So… no.

Jenny had no idea what Hopper or Peters were talking about.

"So… this Christopher Zillwell bloke made a movie," Jenny said. "called… Minority Report. And it has to do with this situation… how, exactly?"

"Just look around us," said Hopper, gesturing at their run-down city and the armed beggars running through shadows. "Civil war. Societal collapse. War, ruin, desolation, paranoia and insanity everywhere you look. And it's all thanks to that movie." She paused. Then, with a smile, "Still a great movie, though."

"The best!" Peters agreed.

Jenny stared at them. "A movie did all that? How?!"

The car pulled into the station.

"Because it inspired what came next," Peters said. "That's what destroyed our world."

"We better show her," Hoppers said.

And opened the door.

On the second floor, policemen were rushing around, too absorbed in their own work to care what Jenny, Peters, and Hopper were doing.

Peters entered a security code into the lock on a steel door to their right, and waited as it whirred softly, then opened with a click.

"In here lies the answer to all your questions," Peters announced, ushering Jenny in.

Jenny stepped into the small, nearly empty room. There were computer banks all around, readouts and interfaces lining the walls and hovering in the air. And no people besides themselves.

But it was obvious that the main attraction was the object that lay just behind an unbreakable, translucent panel in one of the walls.

Jenny stepped forwards, examining it.

"The Zillwell Machine," Hopper sighed. She put her hands into her pockets. "The most dangerous machine on this planet."

"And the reason that the police know the future," Peters agreed. He shut the door behind them, and grinned at Jenny. "Like I said. The answer to your questions."

"Zillwell," Jenny repeated. "Named after Christopher Zillwell's Minority Report?"

"Yeah, that's what it looked like in the movie," Peters said. "Except without that white… dome thing on the top."

Jenny tilted her head, analyzing it, carefully.

It was obviously modeled on a theater prop — she could tell that by the sleek elegance of the design, the blue lights that served no purpose except to make it look "cool", the elaborate paint job, and the random contours and curves that seemed just stuck on without practical application.

But there was definitely real machinery in there, too. Machinery that was actually doing something, whirring and clicking and computing away without a care in the world.

Most of the machinery was obscured by the blank white dome that covered the whole top half of the machine.

"What is it?" Jenny muttered.

Alien, she assumed — since, after all, no human device from this time period would be able to project the future the way Hopper and Peters had been explaining.

"The Zillwell Machine predicts future crimes, and the prediction comes from there into this room," Peters explained, waving at the empty room around them. "We get it on all the monitors — which allows us to see the future crime before it happens. We get enough data that we know where and when it'll be, then race off to where it's gonna happen."

"And don't stop it," Hopper muttered. She crossed her arms, and huffed. "Trust me, every cop's really thrilled about that."

"But we do catch the criminals red-handed," said Peters. "Get them off the street."

Jenny tried looking from different angles, to see under the dome. Then shook her head, with a sigh. "It's no good," Jenny said. "I'm gonna need to look at the Zillwell machine in person."

Noticing a small door leading to the isolated room, at the far corner, Jenny launched herself forwards.

But was snatched back by a horrified Hopper.

"You… can't go in there!" Hopper cried. "The machine's isolated for a reason."

"Yeah — everyone who goes near it dies," Peters agreed. "Legend has it that the machine was actually invented at MIT. But the moment it got switched on, everyone on campus crumbled away into dust!"

Jenny sighed.

And stepped back.

"A temporal radiation leak, maybe?" Jenny muttered. "Or a channel into the vortex? Mass aging and decomposition in a single second… nasty way to go."

She paused.

Then turned to Hopper and Peters.

"So… explain to me why, exactly, you can see future crimes," said Jenny, "but can't stop them?"

"Because this thing looks like the prop from the movie," Hopper said. Shook her head. "And everyone's seen the movie."

"Everyone's seen what happens, in that movie, when the police arrest people for future crimes," Peters agreed. "Everyone remembers that scene where Farndale talks about the inverse probability ratio."

Inverse… huh?

"Look — do either of you want to tell me, in plain, straight-forward English, what this movie's actually about?" Jenny demanded of them. "And why this machine destroyed your world?"

Hopper and Peters exchanged another look.

Shrugged.

"Fair enough," said Peters. "Minority Report originally started as a science fiction story, written in the 20th century."

"The story was about a group of scientists who built a machine that could foresee violent crimes before they happened," said Hoppers. "In the story, the police used it to arrest the criminals before the crime happened in the first place. Which lead to all kinds of problems."

"In the 21st century, the story was made into a movie," Peters continued, "but it wasn't anything special. Hollywood blockbuster. A century later, and everyone kind of forgot about it." He grinned. "Except, of course, for Christopher Zillwell."

Zillwell.

That name, again.

"Zillwell loved watching old movies," said Peters. "So when the Electromagnetic Storm of 3269 hit, and all the old movies and records got wiped out — Zillwell decided to remake his favorites."

Jenny's eyes shifted back to the machine. "Including… Minority Report."

"Zillwell's Minority Report — one of the most classic movies of all time," Peters agreed. "It's won every movie award there is. Just as popular now as the day it came out. Everyone's seen it."

"Then one day, some idiot decided it'd be a great idea to build the machine from the movie — one that could actually tell the future," Hopper said. Rolled her eyes. "The Zillwell Machine was born. And this world… ended."

"Because everyone had seen the movie," Jenny realized. "Everyone knew what it was. And what could happen in a society where police used their ability to stop future crimes to their advantage."

Yes.

This was all starting to make sense, now.

"There must have been an uproar when you police first started using it," Jenny said. "After all, you'd arrest someone for a crime they were now no longer able to commit. It would have seemed like you were arresting them for nothing. The whole thing would have gone to court — been deemed unlawful — and meant that you police had to wait for the crime to be committed before you actually arrested anyone."

"That was how it started," Hopper said.

"Yeah — the big public court case meant that other countries on this world knew we had this machine," Peters said. "Those countries knew what just owning this machine could do. So there was a big civil war. Chaos and anarchy and complete societal collapse. And now… here we are."

"Picking up the pieces," said Hopper.

Jenny frowned.

That sounded… weird. Not quite right.

Just like everything else on this world, since she first arrived here. Just like what she'd seen, before, with Seo and Jack.

"Anyone still sane quarantined this planet off from the outside universe — so no one off-world would ever even find out about the Zillwell Machine," Hopper concluded. "We stopped the insanity, here. Figured… everyone else just thought this was a dead world infected with a horrible disease or something."

"I heard a few investigators showed up, way back," said Peters. "But they all died when they got too close to the machine. Since then… we've just been doing our best and trying to restore law and order."

Jenny nodded, slowly.

Walked to the transparent panel, her eyes fixed on the machine.

For a long while, saying nothing.

Then, in a low voice, "What happened to Gavin really bothered both of you, didn't it? You police still follow the rules of the society that fell apart… but you all hate it. You want to intervene."

"We… don't have a choice," Hopper said. "Have you seen the streets out there? Chaos and insanity all over! Bodies in the streets! If we abandon law and order — even that one — it means we've become no better than them."

"Besides, it'd feed the insanity," said Peters. "My dad told me it had been tried before, way back. And failed."

Jenny paused.

"Chaos and insanity all over," Jenny repeated. "Violence everywhere you look." She spun around, eyes taking in all the monitors spewing data non-stop. "There's more crime around here than you can possibly handle — but you say the police still try their best. So… if this is the center of your whole police strategy… where is everyone?"

Hopper and Peters looked a little confused and uneasy.

Like Jenny had just brought up something neither of them had realized, before… and they weren't sure why they had overlooked it.

"It's just the three of us in this room, right now!" Jenny said, gesturing at the space around them. "What? Did your police just decide they'd done their sitting-around-not-stopping-crime for the day, and go home?"

"That's not fair," Hopper snapped.

"We do our best!" Peters agreed. "Just look at Gavin! He sacrificed himself."

Jenny paused.

Thinking hard about this. About everything she'd been told.

"I think I'd better talk to Seo… the perp," Jenny decided. "Then — I need to watch your movie."