The Time Machine Did It

by John Swartzwelder

The next morning I parked my car in the garage and took the elevator up to my office to start what I hoped would be a good day. I try to maintain a positive attitude at all times, because clients notice little things like that, and if you’re frowning and crying all the time and saying “why? why?”, they get worried. So I try to stay upbeat.

It wasn't the most pleasant place to spend an evening; the food and drinks were terrible, and the entertainment wasn't much better. I guess it's hard to find criminals who have really mastered big band instruments. But it was a place an investigator like myself could pick up some leads. I hung around the bar, listening to the various furtive conversations that were going on around me. A couple of guys near me were planning a big heist, apparently. After awhile, they noticed I was listening in, partly because I kept asking them to repeat things. I’ve got to quit doing that. That’s a real tipoff.

“Not at all,” I said. I moved away, but then leaned back in so my ear was actually a little closer to them than it was before. Then I made the ear widen a little. They probably wouldn’t have noticed, except I lost my balance a little bit there and my ear went into one of their drinks.

They kept me in a half-conscious state most of the time. Drugged enough so I wouldn’t cause them any trouble, but conscious enough so that when they beat me I was capable of giving out a real good yell. I held up under all this pretty well. I was sleeping like a baby – waking up every three hours screaming and crapping my pants.

I never got there. Somebody had been doing some major league tampering to my car. The brake lines were cut. The tires were on fire. There was carbon monoxide coming out of everything. And the radio was tuned to a station I didn’t like. I had to tip my booby-trapped hat to whoever tampered with this car.

He went on and on about how delicate space and time was, but frankly I didn't buy it. I mean, if you think it's so easy to change the course of world events, try it. You don't need a time machine. You’re already living in somebody’s past and somebody else’s future. Just step on a bug or something and see what that gets you. See if now you were never born, or suddenly now there's fifty Hitlers in your bathroom, crapping all over everything. It ain't going to happen. Anyway, that's what I figured.