Linear Shift, Part 1

Chapter 10

Peter trailed off. As he spoke, he realized that he could potentially lose everything he had—his family, his friends—if the mission failed. And for all he knew, he could possibly lose everything if the mission was actually a success as well. Up to that point he had thought only of how the mission could help him. Digging out of the financial hole he'd been in for the last two years had been his main motivation. He'd never really thought about how this decision would affect so many other people. What he'd earlier thought of as being a simple decision, he now saw was a life-altering resolution.

Peter stood and began to pace about the room. The eyes of the general and his companions followed his every step. He was, again, re-evaluating everything the general had to offer. He just wished he knew more about what kind of effect time travel would have on him and his life. He thought about pouring himself a drink, but ruled out the idea just as quickly.

"Peter? Everything okay?" asked Applegate.

At the sound of the general's voice, Peter felt like he was being overly scrutinized, everyone watching him. "Can we speak privately, General? Do they need to be here?" Peter said, pointing to Julie and Mark.

"Not a problem, Peter," he replied. He turned to the couple. "Why don't you two go grab a coffee around the corner. I'll call you when we're finished."

Julie and Mark stood and silently walked toward the door. As they did so, Julie paused near Peter and gave him a reassuring smile. Moments later, the door clicked shut, and Peter and the general were alone.

"Now, is this better, Peter?"

"Much." He sat down across from the general and tried to recall everything that he had planned on asking. "I have some more questions, if you don't mind."

"By all means, Peter. If I can answer them, I certainly will."

"First off, if I go back in time, and happen to die, what will happen to my kids in the present?"

"As I understand it, Peter, your children will only know that you died in your training cover story. They will know nothing about your time travel mission."

"Okay, about that. If I accept, I want a college trust in place for both of them. I also want my house paid off. If I'm going back in time, risking my life on a hypothetical mission, I want some assurances that my family will be taken care of."

"Don't get me wrong, Peter. I completely understand where you're coming from on this matter. I will certainly agree to those requirements for you, but I have to tell you: they will not matter."

Peter was stunned. "Not matter? How can it not matter? They're my children, for Christ's sake. They absolutely matter!"

"I'm sorry, Peter. You misunderstood me. It won't matter if I pay off the house, or pay for their college today, because once you go back in time, you will instantly alter how history will advance from the moment you make a single change in 1942. You see, once you change something in the past, the future might not be the same as you remember. Your memories—as well as the memories of everyone else going on the mission—will remain in place, as they will be linear to you and only you. But for any of us staying in this present, well, we will have no recollection of the events happening up to that point. Our memories will shift at the point when you and your team come back."

The general paused a moment to let Peter absorb what he was telling him. "The dynamic of you and the team going on the mission will allow you to maintain your memories, as if they actually happened. But in reality... they never did. You could come back to a world where you are single, or married to another person entirely."

"Why didn't you tell me any of this before?" Peter demanded.

"Because if I did, you may not have considered the mission in the first place. Listen, Peter. According to our calculations, the mission has nothing but upside potential for all of civilization. If you go back and complete your mission successfully, our analysts assure me that your life will be very similar to, if not better than, the way it currently is. The algorithms that have been run on the success of the mission—run hundreds of times, I assure you—mostly result in you marrying Mary, and having two children."

"How can you know exactly who I would marry again if the mission is successful? Who is to say I don't find French women irresistible after the mission?"

"Just because you're going to France on the mission does not necessarily dictate that you will have a fondness for their women. You see, you're going back to 1942 from the present day. You will return to the shifted now. Your mission will have no influence on whom you will marry in-between. You will have not have been born in 1942, so, you will have no contact with yourself."

Peter's head ached from trying to wrap his mind around the whole theory of time travel. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

"Peter, the odds are with you on this. You have to trust me."

"What exactly are the odds? Or are you not allowed to tell me that either?"

"No, unfortunately, I am not at liberty to discuss the exact odds with you, but believe me when I tell you, they are outstanding."

Peter broke down and crossed the room to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a scotch, despite the hangover. He wasn't sure of the exact cause of his headache anymore. He twirled the glass around in his hand, thinking about everything the general had just told him. He had been prepared to accept the mission, with all the promised benefits, yet without any concessions on the general's part. That was, until now.

"I'm sorry, General. I need more information. You tell me that I will have full access if I accept and sign the mission accord. I am not going to sign anything unless you give me the exact odds of success."

Now, it was the general that was silent. He sat for a long moment before speaking.

"The probability that you will have the same life and family upon your return..." the general paused momentarily before continuing, "...is fifty-five percent."

"Fifty-five percent?! How the hell is that an outstanding figure?"

"That is a fifty-five percent chance that you return to the same life as you have now. There are many other variables that directly affect those odds, and most of them are only positive. Your life when you return may very well be significantly better. Those odds are incalculable. Peter, you asked for the odds that your life will remain relatively the same. That is what I gave you."

Peter listened, and although he was working through a puzzle far beyond his understanding, he did realize one thing. During the entire conversation with the general, Peter had been gradually recalling more of the discussion from the night before, the one with Benny. He remembered the 1943 copper pennies, and he knew that they were his way of making the situation right for him, and him only. He would accept the mission and make sure he had some alone time back in 1942.

After several minutes of exaggerated reflection, Peter finally spoke.

"Okay, General. I know you say it won't matter, but I would like the college trust and the house paid for. Once those are taken care of, I'm in."

Peter looked Brigadier General Harrison Applegate in the eyes and smiled.

"When do we leave?"