Relative History, Part 8
By. C. Leuch
Laura sat next to Martha at the kitchen table of the farmhouse, recipes stacked in neat piles in front of them. As they poured over the most recent one, the family recipe for scones, the scent of soufflé greeted them from the oven. As promised, Martha was giving her notes on all the recipes held in the box, a box that would eventually pass from Clark to Laura. Although Laura had heard many stories about the creations from her father, it was interesting to get Martha’s take on everything. Whereas Clark’s perspective was of a son whose mother would make special dishes at parties or on holidays, Martha’s perspective was that of a mother, or a daughter whose own mother passed on the recipes. At times when Laura mentioned the stories that her dad had told, Martha would give the other side, embellishing with small details that Clark either forgot or wanted to be forgotten. As they discussed the keys to getting certain recipes right, Laura had started taking notes on the same notepad Jon had used to produce his letter to the future. The seed corn logo in the corner was probably retro enough to be considered trendy in her time, not that Laura would be sharing her notes with many people upon return.
It was as the soufflé was being taken out of the oven that Jon arrived, a wide grin on his face. “If you’re here, that must mean…” Laura said, raising her eyebrows in anticipation of Jon completing the sentence.
“Everything is back to normal in Metropolis,” Jon said. “A little bit of green kryptonite counteracted the red. Fortunately this time it wasn’t delivered via bullet, but in a lab under the watchful eye of Dr. Klein.”
“So what you’re saying is that you changed history,” Laura said with a frown.
“Back up,” Martha said holding up her hand. “What’s this about kryptonite bullets?”
“In the original history, Dad went out while his powers were still going haywire and destroyed a bunch of the central business district trying to stop a robbery. The mayor grew so fearful that the next time he showed his face in public, they positioned the snipers, and…” Jon held out his hands. “In that case the green counteracted the red, too, but he was lucky he didn’t get killed in the process.”
“Then I guess it was a good thing you’re here,” Martha said. “But if you changed history, how is it that you remember how it was?”
Jon and Laura just stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before Laura spoke. “What if it was just a story all along? One of Dad’s little fables meant to show us the consequences of acting impulsively? I’m learning from Grandma that Dad hasn’t always been a hundred percent honest with us.”
“You mean the symbol of truth, justice, and the American way isn’t above bending the truth to make a point to his kids?” Jon made a face. “Though, given the way he was behaving, the story is completely believable.”
“Don’t be too hard on him either way,” Martha said, gathering up the recipes. “Whatever the real history is, the fact is that you all learned your lesson, and you’re better for it.” Both Jon and Laura nodded in agreement. With a glance toward the clock on the wall, Martha stood and went over to the oven. “Now, it’s about time to sit down to lunch. What do you say we dig into this soufflé before you take off for home?”
With that, they all gathered around the table, joined a few minutes later by Jonathan. It was a family gathering fit for a major holiday, with plenty of banter and gentle ribbing, though Laura had to admit that having CJ there would truly make things complete. As an afterthought, as Martha dished up the food Laura dug out her phone and showed Jon the video that CJ had made for their grandparents, complete with the high production values. At one point, Jon covered his face in embarrassment. Once the video was over, he looked at his grandparents. “The terror of Gotham City,” he said, pointing at the phone. Martha and Jonathan just smiled.
“I’m sure he’s just misunderstood,” Martha said with a wink, eliciting a snort from Laura. The rest of the meal passed in much the same way. Laura couldn’t believe how gracious and understanding her grandparents were, and it made her heart ache to think of returning to a future without them. It was true that they had recorded a video to send to the future, and she was sure that she would treasure it forever. For now, though, she tried to enjoy the moment, because she knew once lunch was over, that would be it.
The end came much too quickly, and Laura tried to stall by offering to do dishes or any number of other chores around the house, but Martha was having none of it. “Your family needs you,” she said, grabbing Laura’s left hand and drawing attention to the ring on it. “Jon’s family needs him, too.”
Laura sighed as Martha released her hand. “They really do. Last night Diane was a mess. And the kids…they can sense when something is not right….” She looked at Jon to see a concerned look on his face. Martha was right, of course. It was selfish to draw things out any longer, and she had been taught better than to let her feelings override the best course of action. Without another thought, she rushed to change into her suit, reappearing where she had started before her grandparents even knew what happened.
“I’m really going to miss you guys,” she said, gathering them each up into large hugs. “We didn’t even get a day together, but it feels I’ve known you forever. I could spend days catching up….” She felt a tear welling up in her eye, but she covered it by brushing her hand across it as she put on her mask.
“Ditto,” Jon said, giving hugs. “I love you guys. And we should be meeting again it about, oh, 14 months, so you won’t have much time to miss me.”
“Showoff,” Laura muttered. Jon just gave her an amused glance.
“We love you, too, and you have beautiful families. We’re so proud.” Martha and Jonathan came together, Martha’s arm on Jonathan’s waist and Jonathan’s arm around her shoulder. “Take care of yourselves, and them.”
“Thank you for everything,” Laura said, and with that, she and her brother walked out of the house and onto the porch, then, with a long last look back toward their grandparents, took off toward Central City. “That was rough,” Laura said as they landed in an alley next to the police station and changed into civilian clothes.
“I keep forgetting how little time you had with them,” Jon said, leading the way toward the front door and into the building.
“I never appreciated them when they were around,” Laura replied. “In fact, I know it sounds horrible, but…I kinda resented them as a kid. Kansas was so incredibly boring.”
“I understand, trust me,” Jon said. “Those last few family vacations, though, after I came into my powers, started to get interesting. Dad and CJ and I would go out to the pastures and just let loose. We had some epic baseball games….”
“And I’m insanely jealous of that,” Laura said with a sigh. They had now made their way through the bowels of the police station, finally stopping in front of the crime lab. Jon and Laura looked at the sign, looked at each other, then entered the lab. Several desks dotted the periphery of the room, with a high table in the center. All the desks were empty except one, in the far corner, where Barry Allen sat with his back to the door. He didn’t even turn around at the sound of visitors.
“Mr. Allen? Barry Allen?” Jon said, approaching him. Barry finally looked toward them, his expression less than welcoming. Laura had to stifle a gasp at how much younger Barry looked. He seemed to be just a kid, maybe only a couple years older than Laura, with none of the worry lines that decades of sparring with his rogues would eventually bring. His hair was cut short in almost a military-style cut, and his clothes…well, it was obvious that he didn’t have Iris around yet to help in out in that department.
“I am. And you are?”
“I’m Jon and this is my sister Laura, and we’re, ah, friends,” Jon said, looking over to Laura and then back at Barry. “You’re actually good friends with our father, and we need your help.”
That seemed to soften him up considerably. Laura never knew Barry to be unfriendly, though he could be rather intense when working. “Oh? Who’s your father,” he asked.
“Superman.”
Barry raised his eyebrows, skepticism quickly morphing to suspicion. “I’ve heard of him, of course, but we’ve never even met.”
“Well, you haven’t met YET, but trust me, in a few years you’ll be very close.” Laura smiled, but Barry had apparently heard enough. Standing, he gestured toward the door.
“If you don’t mind, the psychiatrist’s office is a couple doors down on the right. I get a few of you stragglers in here from time to time, and while it’s good for entertainment value, I do have work to do.”
Laura dug around in her bag as Barry tried to move Jon without luck. It only took a moment to locate her phone, and another moment to open the video Barry made for his past self. She held it up so it was in his line of sight, and Barry stopped immediately, his jaw dropping as he saw the picture of his future self. “Barry, you need to listen to them,” the video said, then Laura paused it.
Barry staggered backward, then pointed his figure silently, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he was actually able to speak. “Who are you guys, really?” he said. Laura just watched as Jon looked around, then pulled up his shirt, revealing the suit underneath. As Barry’s eyes turned to Laura, she levitated a couple of feet off the ground before landing again.
“We told you who we are, Barry. Or, should I say Flash?” Jon said.
He flinched slightly as the mention of is other identity. “And what kind of help could you possibly need?”
“I’m going to say it,” Laura said to Jon, with a mischievous grin. Jon pinched the bridge of his nose and gestured for her to continue. There was no way she was going to leave without saying this line, which would no doubt leave CJ very jealous. Laura turned back to Barry and tried to compose herself. “We need your help to go back…to the future.”
“Happy?” Jon asked.
“Very.” Laura beamed.
Barry seemed to be processing her statement. “The future?” he said, skeptical.
“The year 2025, to be exact. We don’t have any flying cars and food does not come in pill form, contrary to what cheesy science fiction movies would have you believe. Though you can have the world in the palm of your hand,” Laura said, waving around the phone.
“You must have gotten here somehow,” Barry replied, not even cracking a smile at Laura’s attempt to soften him up. “I mean, I doubt you can hitch a ride to the past from the bus station in 2025.” He paused and looked between them with narrowed eyes. “You can’t, right?”
Jon shook his head and smiled. “No, you can’t. In fact, when it comes to time travel, there’s really only one game in town.”
“I got here via your cosmic treadmill,” Laura added. “You’re the one who helped me get here, and you’re the only one who can get us home.”
Barry practically turned white. “My treadmill?” he croaked. “I’ve never even told another living soul of its existence.”
“Yet,” Laura said. “You’re not above showing it off to your friends in the years to come, though.”
“But you shouldn’t be able to be here, to STAY here, using the treadmill. Relax your vibrations and you should be able to go right back to where you started.”
“Between your time and ours, you figure out a way to make it run on speed, on raw kinetic energy.” Laura pointed at the phone. “You…FUTURE you, are going to walk present you through how to make that change, so we can get back to where we belong.”
Barry sighed. “Which no doubt means that he knows I’ll do it, and that it will work. It sounds like this whole thing is a fait accompli. Do I even have a choice?”
“You always have a choice,” Jon said. “Though I will let you tell our Dad, the most powerful man on Earth, that you won’t help us.” He gave the little half smile that always indicated when he’s kidding, though Barry didn’t seem too amused, at least not as first. Gradually his wide-eyed, almost comical look of horror gradually gave way to contemplation, then finally to acceptance.
Barry shook his head and finally smiled. “Yeah, of course I’ll help.”
He stared at them for a long moment, probably processing everything that had happened so far. “So, twenty eight years?” he said, allowing himself to relax against his desk. He nodded toward the phone. “Flying cars or not, technology sure seems to have advanced a lot in that time.”
“Think of what a computer looked like 28 years ago,” Jon said. “What fits on your desk now used to take up a whole room. Current calculators have more computing power than what was on the Apollo spacecraft. It doesn’t take a stretch to believe that the tower sitting on your desk will soon fit in the palm of your hand.”
Barry held out his hand, and Laura put the phone in it. “This thing is a video player and a personal computer?” He turned it over and thoroughly looked it over.
“Actually, it’s a phone. And a camera. It can also be a flashlight, calculator, calendar, compass, alarm clock…” Laura gestured as she spoke, looking toward Jon as she finished up.
“We live in a digital world,” Jon continued. “Videos that used to be magnetically transferred onto tapes are now digitized, which means they can be put into a computer. The same goes for music. And once everyone’s little computers holding music and photos and videos are networked together…” he held out his hand.
“The world in the palm of your hand,” Barry finished, handing the phone back to Laura. “Impressive.”
“Yeah, well, technology has its downside, too,” Jon said. “When you have access to any information imaginable whenever and wherever you want, why do you need books? Newspapers? Why even bother to talk to anyone? Those phones make it possible to be utterly alone in a city surrounded by millions of other people.”
Barry cringed slightly and pushed away from the desk, headed for the door. “I guess every advancement has pros and cons. I’m sure that some caveman thought that the wheel would lead to the downfall of civilization, such as it was.” He smiled, and Laura could tell that he had finally accepted the situation and relaxed. “So, Superman gets married and has kids. Who would’ve figured that?”
“He’s actually already married, not that anyone else knows that,” Jon said, following Barry. “I’m telling you, you two have a lot in common. A lot of those similarities will make it so my family can come visit yours on our summer vacation without anyone batting an eyelash.”
Barry looked over his shoulder questioningly, though Jon only smiled at him. Laura noticed that he pointedly wasn’t giving away any information as to Superman’s real identity, no doubt to preserve the timeline, though he was certainly giving plenty of clues. He was getting good at being cryptic, Laura decided, though hopefully that didn’t follow them home. “As soon as I open this door, I’ll start moving pretty fast. Can you two keep up?”
“Oooh, a race. Just like old times,” Laura said rubbing her hands together, memories of races past springing to mind. Of course, the races between her or Jon or Clark and Barry or Wally never really seemed to have a clear winner, and she could never tell if the Flashes were humoring them or they were just evenly matched.
True to his word, Barry pulled open the door and instantaneously vanished. A split second later Laura and Jon shifted into super speed and followed, keeping a respectable distance behind in order to let him lead them to his current apartment. Laura had only ever known Barry after he and Iris were married and living in a tidy little house in a newer part of town. It stood to reason that the bachelor version of Barry Allen didn’t live in the same house, which proved to be true. He led them to an apartment near the business district, then into a back room with a secret lab and the treadmill. Barry seemed surprised for a moment that Laura and Jon were able to arrive within mere moments of him, though soon enough they were down to business, with Laura pulling out the phone again and playing the video for Barry. After it was done, he moved like a blur around the treadmill, making tweaks here and adjustments there, at one point zipping out of the room to get some components from the store. In all, it took maybe ten minutes to get the work done, between watching and rewatching the video and doing the actual work.
Barry finally came to a stop next to Jon, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, I’ve done everything that I told myself to do, so it should work for you now. Who wants to be the first to give it a try?”
Laura looked at Jon. “I’ve already taken it for a spin once,” she said. “It’s your turn now.”
Jon nodded. Laura suspected that he would’ve volunteered to go first even if she hadn’t said anything. Barry walked with him over to the treadmill, punching a few buttons on the control panel. “Okay, I need an exact date, time, and location.”
Jon gave Barry the date corresponding to the day after he left, 7 AM eastern so that he could surprise his family as they woke up. “As for where, I can get wherever I need in seconds, so put me anywhere.”
Barry punched a couple more buttons, then stepped back. “I’m putting you in the countryside outside of town. Hopefully it doesn’t build up too much in the next couple decades.”
“I guess we’ll find out,” Jon said, turning to shake Barry’s hand, then stepping on the treadmill. He took a deep breath, and started running. The air around the treadmill started to shimmer, and Laura found herself mesmerized for a moment, until she became aware of Barry talking to her.
“So you said my treadmill was the only time travel option, even in your time, but it’s clear from your conversation that he didn’t use it to get here. So how DID he travel back in time?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Laura said quietly, turning so that she met his eyes with her own. “It was some sort of device that normally simply moves people around in space. But for whatever reason, when speed is added to the equation, you travel through time.”
“Intriguing,” Barry said, pinching his lip. “You know, I already have one homework assignment to complete some time in the next 28 years. I could try looking into that problem, too. I mean, I think I know a little something about what it takes to move through time.” He gestured to the treadmill, where Jon was quickly fading away.
Laura nodded slowly. “I guess we could use any help we can get. My other brother is working on it, too, tough I bet you could get a lot done between now and then.” She smiled, then gave him a quick hug. “Thanks for your help, Barry. You’ve always been my favorite uncle.” He seemed somewhat hesitant to return the hug at first, and it made for a rather awkward exchange. She took pity on him and pulled away, quickly stepping up for her turn on the treadmill. “Trust Iris,” she said, no longer looking him in the eye. “You won’t believe how great it will be once you let her in on your secret.” She held up her left hand and looked at him again. “I know how it is, my brothers know, and my folks know. You guys are a wonderful couple, and it will only get better.” She started running. “I’ll see you, Barry.”
“See you,” he said, though she could see in his eyes that he was distracted, that her words had hit him like a hammer. She allowed herself to smile, then pushed her speed faster and faster, until she became enveloped by the shimmery porthole once more, surrounded by memories that played in fast forward. Finally, she saw herself getting engaged, then talking to Diane at the police station the day before, then she emerged into a field, Jon waiting for her, and she knew that they were home at last.
***
CJ shifted, fluffing the pillow behind him as he heard his wife give a small moan. A circle of light radiated out from the little LED clipped to the top of his book, bathing the center of his bedroom in a faint white that quickly faded to blue, then black. He paused to lean over and kiss his sleeping wife on the cheek, wrapping his arm around her just until he felt her relax, then turning back to the task at hand.
The book he was reading probably should’ve put him to sleep an hour earlier. “A Brief History of Time,” by Stephen Hawking, which CJ had assumed would by dry, theoretical quantum physics, actually managed to pull him in, and the issues that it discussed were fascinating. More to the point, the theories the book described could have some bearing on Jon’s disappearance. Although CJ was under no obligation to continue to research the device that had created the porthole similar to the one Jon disappeared through, it still gnawed at him. How did it work? What was the theory behind how it did what it did? Who built it and why? CJ liked to pride himself on being pretty knowledgeable, or at least being resourceful enough to find people who knew enough to help him solve his cases. He had taken on the mantle of the world’s greatest detective, which was a lot to live up to. And up until now he had done a pretty good job, or so he had thought. But he couldn’t accept that in this one instance he was completely stumped.
With a sigh, he got back to reading. After getting another couple of paragraphs further into the book, his phone, which was sitting facedown on the nightstand, vibrated. Only a handful of people, mostly family and close friends, had his personal cell number, and even though Bruce was not above trying to contact him at this time of night, he usually left CJ alone once he entered his bedroom with his wife. CJ looked at the phone questioningly for a moment, then lifted it up to see who was trying to get a hold of him. The message, from Barry, said simply, “I’m waiting downstairs.”
Without another thought, CJ scrambled out of bed as gently as he could, throwing on a shirt as he did. He slipped out of the room and quickly made his way through the mansion and down to the cave, x-raying along the way to confirm that Barry was, in fact, standing there waiting for him.
“Took you long enough,” Barry said with a teasing grin as he caught sight of CJ.
“Yes, I’m slow, I get it,” CJ said in a joking tone. He had developed a banter with Barry that rivaled that with his family, and Barry wasn’t above dishing out the little jabs that CJ was famous for delivering. “So what do I owe the pleasure? What couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“I have a little story for you,” Barry said, making himself comfortable at CJ’s desk. CJ took his cue and found a chair, the same one Matt had been using earlier in the evening. “So, 28 years ago, as Laura was waiting for her turn on the treadmill for her return trip through time, she mentioned how it was that Jon managed to find himself in the past. Since I dabbled in theoretical physics and time travel, I told her I would look into the problem. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I figured with that much time to look into things I should be able to get you something that would be useful.”
“Why didn’t you say something about that earlier?” CJ asked, though his heart rate started speeding up at the implications of Barry’s statement.
Barry smiled shrewdly. “I wanted the conversation to be spontaneous,” he said. “It was already established that I was going to help you with your little time travel problem. Anything else on top of that had to happen on its own. Trust me, I’ve messed around with the timeline enough to know when to keep my mouth shut.”
CJ ducked his head. That was probably another little jab at him, since he tended to say what was on his mind, at least around close friends and family. “You didn’t come all the way down here to tell me you came up empty,” CJ said with a raise of the eyebrow.
“Do you have the device?” Barry asked. CJ motioned to the center of the workbench where he left it earlier in the night after Laura left. Barry sauntered over and picked it up, giving it a once-over before continuing. “As I got to thinking about how what she described would work, I came to the realization pretty quickly that theory behind it was nothing new, even back in 1997. Quantum theory states that space and time are linked, so it would only make sense that it you had something that could create a shortcut through space, it should be able to shortcut time, as well. How that something would work, though, was another question.” He reached for a small screwdriver and took the back off the device. “I started looking into guys who were deep into research on the subject, which wasn’t too terribly difficult since it’s a rather specialized field. Tracking down academics that received government grants was the first step, but I got to thinking… if the person who used the porthole was doing it for less than lawful purposes, which seemed likely given that Superman was after them, then it was possible that whoever created it wasn’t able to get funding through the government or other legitimate sources.”
CJ felt himself leaning forward and scooting toward the edge of the chair. “A rogue researcher, sure,” CJ said. “Probably someone who didn’t have the best standing and a short fuse….”
Barry looked at him with raised eyebrows, then turned back to the device. “Universities seem to value their grant money almost more than the actual research that comes out of it,” Barry said. “So your guy works in academia, probably in or around Metropolis, has no government funding, and is a little morally flexible. I found him about a week ago, even did a little surveillance to make sure he was the correct target,” Barry said.
“You did?!”
“Yup. Ah, here we are,” Barry said, smiling as he turned the open part of the porthole device to face CJ. “I theorized this worked by creating a distortion in the local gravity field. Here’s the little bugger that did it.” He pointed at one of the more unusual components, something that CJ hadn’t been able to positively identify when he had examined it. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the porthole robbers were stealing specific items, right?”
The conversation was starting to move too fast for CJ. No big surprise, he supposed, considering it was the Flash he was talking with, but he found himself a little slow to respond. “Uh, yeah, I believe Diane mentioned that. Jon was investigating a robbery at a diamond exchange when he disappeared.”
“They’re trying to get better components,” Barry said. “There’s only so much you can do with the stuff available at Radio Shack…or wherever you get electrical components these days. They maxed themselves out here, but with more sophisticated and expensive material they could gain more control.”
“We were able to figure out how to make it transport an object to a particular place,” CJ said, getting up and pointing to another part of the device. “It used USGS coordinates, for the most part, though I imagine if you wanted to travel much outside of the general vicinity of Metropolis it would get a little wonky, since different locations have correction factors applied to them…” he took a breath and looked at Barry, who seemed amused. In an effort to add something to the conversation, he had started rambling…which, now that he thought about it, tended to happen more often than he liked to admit. “Getting a hold on the elevation at the porthole exit seems to have been rather tricky,” he said
“Yeah, I heard. It’s all part of controlling the spatial part of the space-time relationship. Jon’s trip to 1997 is proof that they had absolutely no control on the time part of it, which makes sense considering the enormous amount of energy that takes. Super speed and the speed force are both able to impart the kind of energy you need to control time. Your perpetrator was looking to get there through more conventional means, which is why he stole the components that he did. Then he could create a functioning time machine, and have all the fame and glory he missed out on before.”
“I’m not discounting the theory that he’s stealing stuff to get rich, though, either,” CJ said, drawing a chuckle from Barry.
“Well, yeah, that too. There’s no way he’s going to have a career in academia after producing a device made of stolen components. Plus his robberies are all over the news. I’m sure he has something bigger up his sleeve. Fortunately for us, he won’t be able to follow through.” Barry put the device down and pulled a paper out of his pants pocket, placing it on the work bench and sliding it to CJ.
CJ looked at the paper a long moment before taking it. “This…?” he asked.
“The inventor of the porthole device. Probably the guy pulling the strings on the robberies,” Barry said.
“And you’ve had this for a week?” CJ asked again.
“History is something held in delicate balance,” Barry said. “You change one thing, and a whole cascade of events is triggered as history tries to correct itself. Jon was supposed to go back in time, and Laura was supposed to follow him. I’m just an observer in this.”
“You’re more than an observer,” CJ said. “I mean, you solved the case!”
Barry didn’t even blink. “I’m CSI, that’s kind of my job.”
“In Central City,” CJ mumbled. He wasn’t sure if the feeling he had was jealousy, but he was starting to think that it was. He wasn’t used to having other people step in and hand him the answer to his problems. In this case, though, he had to remind himself that Barry had been looking into it for longer than CJ had been alive. He shouldn’t be surprised that Barry found the solution – he probably would’ve been more surprised if he hadn’t. “Thank you,” CJ said, swallowing his pride and giving Barry a smile.
“Don’t worry about it,” Barry said, giving CJ a quick clap on the back. “I’m just glad I could be of help.”
“Always,” CJ said, and like that, Barry was gone. CJ had to blink a couple of times to get his mind back on track, and once he did, he finally took a look at the name written on the paper. It wasn’t someone he had ever heard of before, and in the name of due diligence, he decided to do some quick research on the man.
Half an hour at the Bat Computer gave him more than enough information to believe that Barry was probably right. He looked at the clock and saw that it was now 3 AM, way too early to be making any other calls on this. He debated going back up to bed and taking care of business in the morning before work, but he ultimately decided that this was too important to keep to himself. Without another thought, he reached out for the phone and dialed a familiar. After a half dozen rings, and very drowsy voice finally answered.
“Diane? It’s Sam. I have some information for you.”
She sighed. “Look, it’s late….”
“I know who’s behind the porthole robberies,” he said, and for a long time there was no response from the other end. “Diane?”
“Sorry, I’m just…getting up. Good thing I’m used to not sleeping much these days.” He heard rustling and some grunting before she continued. “This is great. Who is it?”
“Let me tell you a story….”
