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Chapter 1:
This is What Makes Time Travel Possible
It was Saturday, October 26, 1985. Around 1:19 AM. At the Twin Pines Mall parking lot, Hill Valley. An old man with crazy Einstein-like hair held a remote controller for a car. Beside him stood a teenager in an ‘80s-style orange life vest and jean jacket, videotaping the whole event.
“Watch this,” said the old man. “Not me! The car! The car!”
The teenager pointed his camera at a silver Delorean as it skid into place.
“If my calculations are correct,” said the old man, “when this baby hits eighty-eight miles per hour… you’re gonna see some serious shit!”
Luke Derricks, a handsome 26-year-old, sat on the edge of his couch, staring at the wall. Beside him was a video projector. Connected to that video projector, a DVD player. And in that DVD player, one of the greatest movies of all time: Back to the Future.
He watched as the Delorean exploded in a flash of light, leaving a trail of fire tracks in its wake. The “OUTATIME” license plate spun and fell onto the pavement.
“What did I tell you?!” screamed the old man, larger than life, projected up onto Luke’s apartment wall. “Eighty-eight miles per hour!!!”
“Jesus Christ, Doc,” said the teenager in the orange vest. “You disintegrated Einstein!”
Luke smiled. He loved this movie. One of his favorites. No, the favorite. There was something about this movie. Something that made it rise above all the rest. Better than any of the Star Wars or Star Trek movies. Better than Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. Even better than Disney/Pixar’s The Incredibles.
This was a movie about time travel.
And Luke loved the idea of being able to travel through time.
But who wouldn’t? With time travel, you could go back and change a major regret. You could find out tomorrow’s winning lottery numbers. Make a few choice stock picks. See your parents or grandparents when they were your age. Maybe even meet a historical figure or two.
Sure, sure. All that was cool. But for Luke, it was something else.
You could say, at heart, Luke was an explorer. And time travel was about “exploring” the world—the universe—in a whole new way. He loved shows like Star Trek and Stargate SG-1. Those were about exploring space and other worlds. He played his fair share of Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, and not just because she had big boobs. There was an adventurer living in his heart. And he longed to be one.
Unfortunately, the real world had other priorities. He had rent to pay. Credit card bills. Student loans to pay off. Sure, of course he’d rather be off on some adventure exploring through time and space – but he also needed to eat.
He had a roommate. Ray Cartwright. An African-American, business-oriented, charming, self-confident, best friend kind of guy. Luke met Ray in college in an introductory psychology class. Luke was an art major; Ray was in finance. The only reason either of them took a psych class was because it fulfilled a general ed requirement and it seemed like an easy “A”. They met, hit it off, and became the best of friends.
Now they were roommates. Ray was still in school, finishing up his MBA. Luke’s dream of being a comic book artist had to go on hold for the time being. Meanwhile, he worked retail to pay the bills.
Luke watched the movie play on the wall, projected in front of him. How he wished he could live an adventure like Marty or Doc Brown. But this was real life. He lived in Burbank, not Hill Valley. And it was 2011, not 1985.
Come to think of it, it was almost 30 years later since that movie was made. In the sequel, Marty time-traveled to the year 2015. There were flying cars and hoverboards. 3-D movies and voice-activated house lights.
Some of the movie’s predictions came true. 3-D movies were becoming more and more popular. But that could just be because studios were trying to give people a reason to go see movies in the theater, and not illegally download it onto their computers. Somehow the writer of Back to the Future failed to predict Internet piracy, cell phones, and reality TV shows.
But how could he? This movie was made in the 1980s. According to Wikipedia, the earliest versions of cell phones existed as early as the 1930s – a whole fifty years earlier – allowing someone to call a passenger on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean for the low rate of only $7 per minute (in 1930s dollars). That’s about $93 per minute in relative present-day cost. And you thought your cell phone bill was high.
Anyway, cell phone technology was rare and expensive. And by the 80s, still large, clunky, and only for the affluent. No one could’ve imagined that just a few decades later, everyone would have one – to check their e-mail, update their status on Facebook, and play Angry Birds while they were at work.
Too bad hoverboards hadn’t been invented yet. That would be cool.
Oh well. It was just a movie. The awesomest movie ever made, in Luke’s opinion, but still just a movie. A fantasy. Fiction. Not reality.
So he had to live his dream vicariously. Watching life-size movies projected onto his living room wall. Reading it in comic books. Imagining his own stories. He wasn’t much of a writer. He tried. It was fun. But his stories weren’t that good.
His real talent was in drawing. Ever since he was about five years old, he discovered a love and talent for it. And what did he love drawing most? Super heroes. Monsters and aliens. Killer attack robots and cyborgs. Magical creatures and fantasy dragons. Aside from being a time traveler and deep space explorer, his other – and more realistic – dream was to be a comic book artist.
But that dream had to be put on hold too. Artists were a dime a dozen. Maybe a penny a dozen. Comic books weren’t as big as they used to be. Less jobs, lower pay, higher competition. He made a point to attend every comic book convention within an eight-hour drive, and he always brought sample work to show exhibitors and publishers. His art was good. Just not good enough.
Now he worked in an independent bookstore, some locally-owned mom-and-pop shop that was always on the verge of going under. The owners were nice people. A husband and wife team that loved books – all books. They loved how books could magically transport them any where, any time, and introduce them to all kinds of memorable characters and interesting creatures. But, being a smaller store with a limited budget, it was tough to compete with the larger chain stores. Still, they managed to stay in business one-more-month, each month, and although it didn’t pay much, Luke had a job.
But soon, everything was about to change.
“This is what makes time travel possible,” continued the movie. “The flux capacitor.”
Whatever that was. Time travel was possible – Luke was sort of an amateur hobby time travel theorist. There were ways to actually travel through time. If you had a fast enough space ship, you could travel near the speed of light, slowing down your own time, effectively sending you into the future. Or you could “somehow” create a wormhole that took you to another location in time and space. But out of all the theories Luke had learned about, none of them were technologically possible yet.
Maybe, someday in the distant future, the technology would exist. And people could travel through time. And maybe, somehow, one of them would go back in time to Luke’s present, and – for some reason – give him access to that time machine.
Maybe. He wished. He dreamed.
He was always dreaming.
There was a knock at the door.
Who could that be?
Chapter 2:
The Audition
Burbank, if you’re not familiar, is part of Los Angeles. There’s a lot of movie studios there, big and small. So while Luke was at home watching a movie, his roommate was just a few miles down the street, auditioning people for new upcoming film.
The room was full of anxious, hopeful, aspiring actors and actresses, all waiting to be called, waiting for their chance, waiting for that big break that might someday come. Most had headshots and demo reels in hand. No one talked to each other. They were all nervous. But it was more than that. They were each other’s competition.
They were all young adults, around ages 20 to 25. They were all good-looking. And at least half of them were cute blonde girls. And perhaps of those, one or two were natural blondes.
One of those natural blondes was a cute girl with a friendly face named Dawn Stein. Yep, she’s Jewish, just like half the actors in Hollywood. She was pretty, self-confident, and a decent actress too. She’d been involved in community theatre since she was fourteen. And appeared in a couple local commercials in recent years. And now, today, was auditioning for a “big” movie.
Well, “big” is a bit of an exaggeration. The vision was big. The story was big. The budget and crew size – very small. In fact, it wasn’t even a feature-length movie. It was a 20-minute short. If they were lucky, it’d get into some film festivals. So, needless to say, it was an unpaid acting opportunity.
But Dawn didn’t care. She loved acting. She loved the idea of being a different character, a different person, every time. The right costume, a bit of makeup, and some special effects – and she could be anybody, or anything, on camera.
A guy – some college kid, based on his apparent age and wrinkly t-shirt – popped his head through the door. “Next,” he said, somewhat nasally.
That meant her. It was Dawn’s turn.
Some other 5-foot-something blonde-haired gorgeous girl walked out. Dawn looked around the waiting room. Several more women who more or less looked just like her still waited for their turn. This was not looking too promising. But Dawn tried to keep a positive attitude and cheerful smile on her face.
She entered the next room.
There were three guys in there: the nasal college kid that called her in, who probably still lived with his parents; the director – some slightly older, but still college-aged dude wearing an artsy hat; and Ray, Luke’s roommate, sitting beside the director. Ray had some kind of schedule or budget or something official-looking in front of him. They were all guys in their early-to-mid-20s.
This was, in fact, a student film.
The director was in UCLA’s film program, so that gave this project a little more credibility and professionalism than, say, some random guy on Craigslist. Of course Dawn dreamed of being a movie star on a real movie – something big budget, something with distribution, something that her cousin in Iowa would see. But those auditions were hard to come by, and even though she had managed to get in a few, no one had called her back yet.
But she loved acting. And even though this was a no-budget student film, it was still better than nothing.
“State your name and look into the camera, please,” said the director.
They were recording.
“Hi, I’m Dawn Stein,” she said, “and I’m auditioning for the part of Power Girl.” She then listed her contact info and tried to smile all happy and pretty.
“Thank you,” said the director.
The nasal kid handed her a script.
“Take it from the top of page two, please,” said the director.
Ray leaned back in his chair and watched her.
Dawn held her script in front of her and began reading her lines.
“You won’t get away with this, Doctor Destruction. As soon as my powers recharge, I’ll summon the archangel Michael and he’ll send you back to the alternate dimension where you came from! Evil never wins.”
Wow, this was badly written. She didn’t get a chance to see the script ahead of time. She just saw the open call to audition posted on Facebook. It was a super hero movie. It sounded fun. But… wow.
The director read for Doctor Destruction’s lines. “Ha. Ha. Ha. You are too late, Power Girl. All I have to do is push this button and the Ragnarok bomb will explode, destroying planet Earth and turning it into a zillion pieces of astro dust!”
Dawn tried not to make a face at how bad this dialog was. She was auditioning, live, on camera. She played along.
“But wait, aren’t you forgetting something?” she said.
“What?”
“My powers have already recharged. Archangel Michael, attack!!!”
“No, no! Stay away! Ahh, the light, it burns!!!”
Oh God. What is this movie?
“Ha-ha! See, Doctor Destruction, I told you evil never wins! Victory goes to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ! Hooray!”
She somehow delivered that line with energy and enthusiasm.
“Thank you,” said the director.
Wow. What had she gotten herself into?
“And now,” said the director, “could you please read Power Girl’s lines on page five.”
“Okay,” she said. She flipped to that page. It was some kind of interior bedroom scene. The opening action line was “Power Girl moans loudly.” Okay…
She tried moaning loudly, like she was in pain.
“No, no,” said the director. “This is a love scene.”
“Oh,” she said. “Okay.” She moaned again, this time a little more… erotic? It still sounded a little painful, but it was better.
The director decided to move on and continue with the scene.
Dawn read her first line. “Jack, you’re so strong and handsome. I can’t believe you’re inside me right—“ She stopped.
“There a problem?” asked the director.
“I’m sorry. No. Let me try that again.” She moaned. “Oh Jack, you’re so strong and handsome… I can’t believe you’re inside me right now. And with my… telepathic powers… I can tell you’re only thinking about me…”
The director read Jack’s lines. “Oh Power Girl, you’re the only girl for me. I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you…”
“Me too,” said Dawn, reading her lines. “Me too…”
“Promise me, Power Girl, promise me you’ll never leave.”
God this was an awful story. But Dawn was committed. At least to finishing the audition. God, she hoped she didn’t get this part. “Jack, I promise! I promise I’ll never leave you! Not even Doctor Destruction and his army of minion robots can keep us apart for long. We’re soulmates!”
“Yes, yes we are!” read the director.
Ray couldn’t help but chuckle. He knew this was a badly written script. Which, considering their budget and level of experience, could only go from bad to worse. But he needed a project management credit for one of his MBA classes. He volunteered to be this film’s producer and production manager. He could’ve invested some of his own money into this, if he wanted. He actually had some extra cash set aside for the right project, business idea, or investment opportunity. He was only 27, but he was already building himself a humble fortune.
After getting his BA in Finance, he put off grad school for a few years to start his own company. Cartwright Consulting. It was a life-coaching-slash-business-consulting type thing. Lasted a few years, made some money, but ultimately he decided it wasn’t for him. He started a few other part-time companies here and there. None made a profit or lasted long. But he learned something valuable from each experience.
And one of the things he learned was to never put his own money into something he didn’t believe in. And this student film project was one such example. He tried passing on it at first. But the director was a friend of his, and they really needed a producer and project manager. Apparently no one else would sign on. And Ray needed a real-world project for his class assignment, a third of his final grade. So, reluctantly, he signed on.
He just told his director friend that all his money was tied up in other investments right now. And that was partially true.
Anyway, apparently he was the only person on the team who felt it was a bad script. The director and his assistant loved it. And the actresses – well, they at least acted like they loved it. Except for Dawn.
She tried to like it. She gave an honest effort to make the dialog believable. She tried to put authentic emotion into it. But the more she read, the more her cheerful face turned to one of confusion, bewilderment, and palpable distaste.
Finally, an honest actress.
Sure, she looked like just about every other girl they’d seen all day. But an honest actress, he could work with. Of course, he also knew she’d never take the part, even if they did offer it.
“Thank you,” said the director. “That’ll be all. We’ll call you if we’re interested.”
“Thanks for your… time,” she said.
She handed back the script to the nasally kid. And then politely, but swiftly, bolted for the door.
Ray wasn’t about to lose his opportunity. He quickly got up and went after her.
In the other room, where countless others waited to read the same bad lines, he stopped her. “Dawn, wait!”
She stopped and turned around. She was almost afraid to ask. “Yeah?”
He checked over his shoulder to make sure the director couldn’t hear him in the other room. “Listen,” he said, lowering his voice. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to be in this movie.”
She smiled with a sigh of relief. They laughed about it.
“What are you doing tonight? I’d like to take you out to dinner.”
“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Really?”
“Just you and me. And I promise not to talk about this film.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
“Great. You like Chinese?”
“Love it.”
“P.F. Chang’s it is,” he said. “I’ll call you after I’m done here.”
“Okay,” she said with a pleasant smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”
And with that, she left. Ray watched her as she went out the lobby door.
At least something good came out of this film.
The nasally kid popped his head out the audition room door.
“Next.”
** END OF PREVIEW — COMPLETE NOVEL COMING SOON **
