Franklin Meets His Future Self

A late-career time travel repair tech confronts his mortality and gets to live his hero moment.

Franklin rolled over, stretched, then realized he was awake because his work alarm was blaring, its red light flashing from the phone on his nightstand. Of course. When was the last time he woke up to the soft-bells-you-got-a-full-night-sleep alarm?

Yeah. Oh well.

The things he did to cover for Leo, his fellow repair tech, who was on vacation.

He sat up, swung his legs out of bed, and paused for a minute. He couldn’t help saying “sorry” in his mind for the millionth time. Knee-jerk reaction. He even glanced to the other side of the bed, as if he would see Ruth Ann there, pretending she was asleep.

Yeah. Still empty. That too. 

He leaned forward and picked up the phone. The notification showed a new ticket, #539, had been entered into the system. It was labeled high priority. It was from HQ, back East.

Oh. Ok.

Alertness rustled harder through his brain. It wasn’t every day a call came from headquarters. Most of the timehop logistics could be handled at the transport facility, where customers took their timehops. Or at least at a regional timezone-aligned location with a transporter. That’s where all the tech support calls usually came from, at least. 

HQ was a different story. HQ meant there was a central problem that could affect timehopping experiences worldwide. It meant if things couldn’t be resolved right away, services everywhere could be disrupted. Big board members could lose piles of revenue. Ordinary people might start experiencing odd encounters, or seeing versions of their own history rewritten. They might meet themselves. Some… well if they end up in a time thread in which they were never born… it can get complicated, if there were problems. 

Franklin got up and headed to the bathroom. He hadn’t fielded an HQ-level call since the quadrangulator was putting people too close to actual war action during Renaissance flashbacks. That had to have been three or four years ago. And then there was the time someone tried to go to Earth’s beginning, not realizing it was molten rock and pre-atmospheric. 

But you had to expect this from the public. That’s why the developers put in all the guardrails. 

Franklin finished in the bathroom and tapped the notification.

“Possible future temporal leak.

Thursday, October 8, 2052. 10:04am EST.

HQ East, Boston Transport 18A”

He stared at the message and read it again.

“Future temporal leak.”

He tapped the message for more details.

“Customer reports ability to see themselves in a restricted future temporal transport. No notes of any engagement, but customer care is following up.”

Franklin took in a breath. Sometimes these things are blown out of proportion. People make stuff up. Someone “thinks” they saw something, but can’t be sure. Things can get trippy in a transport sometimes. Hallucinations do happen.

Still, this was from HQ. It had to be somewhat vetted.

He hit voice mode and said, “Franklin here. Did the customer leave any more details? Like how far away they were, did the other party see them too?”

“No more at the moment,” the system said. “But the customer is in the waiting room. We can put you on whenever you’re ready. Just tap or say Go.”

The big GO button Franklin couldn’t miss. The one he had tapped countless times, starting the troubleshooting process. He could feel Ruth Ann flinch, even though she hadn’t been here for ten years. He had hoped she didn’t hate him but knew deep down that she did. 

He had to work, though. He was lucky to have a job at all. Who knew how long he could keep supporting everyone, as human workers became even more irrelevant. There had been the early years building a home, then the alimony. Which was ending, thankfully, but being replaced by tuition. For kids he rarely saw anymore.

And then there was retirement. Someday? Maybe he would die before he ever saw that kind of freedom. But then how would he finance it? Somehow even retirement didn’t seem so free. Maybe that’s why he worked so hard. Maybe the job would finish him off. His doctor kept promising a heart attack if he continued the way he did.

“Just a sec,” he said, pulling out a fresh pair of broke-in khakis and an essential black T-shirt. “I’ll get on in a few minutes.”

After dressing, Franklin decided to talk to the customer while making his eggs. He padded out to the tiny apartment kitchen and gathered the ingredients. Ruth Ann used to make eggs for him, back in the day. He had it pretty much figured out now. Whisk, heat pan with butter, pour, and fold. Not stir. Folding was the trick to a fluffy scramble.

As the pan heated, he turned to his phone and said “Go.”

There was a beep as they connected.

“Hello, Franklin here. Who am I speaking with?”

“Tamara Michaels,” a woman’s voice floated from the device.

“Hi Tamara, nice to meet you,” Franklin said. He always wanted to be polite.

“Nice to meet you too, Franklin,” Tamara said.

“Where are you calling from?” Franklin asked.

“The Boston Transport, near the city center.”

Franklin nodded, even though he and Tamara were just on a voice call.

“Ok great,” he said. “So, what happened? Start from the beginning. Tell me everything you remember.” 

“Well, I wanted to go to the main street of my childhood neighborhood, near Boston,” she said. “I chose five years in the future, the maximum. But only fifteen minutes. I just wanted to see how the town will look then, if they were able to finish the new hall renovation. I wanted a “picture of the future” for my mom, in case she didn’t make it to see it. She loved that hall. The guide said it was simple, should be no problem.”

Franklin kept nodding while he watched the eggs. Fold. Wait a few seconds. Shake the pan. Fold again.

“Then I saw myself walk into view,” Tamara continued. “I know it was me. I was walking in from a side street, heading toward this grocery I never go to. I didn’t think I would be there, it was the wrong time of day and everything.”

“Ok,” Franklin said, as he folded once more, cut, flipped, removed from heat. “You’d never been to that grocery before?”

“No, I always went to the other one, on the other side because it was closer. And was a great store. I never went in the other one.”

“And the time of day was wrong too, what time did you usually go?”

“Afternoon. Late. Never in the morning.”

“Ok.” Franklin slid the eggs onto a plate. “How did you know it was you? How could you be certain?”

“Because I nearly ran into myself,” Tamara said. “And I think I recognized me. I mean, my future self recognized me too. We made eye contact and we were like, oh my god.”

Franklin stopped. They had made contact. Timehoppers were not to encounter themselves in any past or future timeframe, and definitely were not supposed to interact. The chances of disruptions in dependent time ribbons was too great. Imagine, being able to influence your actions today based on what you learn from your future self! The potential messiness was boundless. The schedules were programmed to avoid these types of collisions.

“Did you speak to yourself?” Franklin asked.

“No, no we didn’t talk. I think we were both too startled,” Tamara said. “But, if my future self knew I’d be there, then I wouldn’t have been startled, would I? I would have known I was arriving, based on what happened previously which is today.”

“Yes, technically,” Franklin said. “Although, depending on the source of the leak, you could have crossed a time ribbon where this event did not occur.”

“Oh,” Tamara said, sounding lost.

“I know, its confusing. We’re still working out kinks. Thank you for being so patient and giving us such good information,” Franklin said. “It helps us target where to look for the problem.”

And this was true. Franklin was already starting to form ideas. He couldn’t help feeling his brain slide into “genius” mode. Meaning, he had to be a genius now, time to save the day and impress people.

“Did you feel any physical sensations that were unusual, at any point during the transport?” he asked.

“Not really,” Tamara said. “Although, I felt a bit queasy the whole time. Kind of like being inside a VR machine. And those give me the swims.”

Physical sensations usually point to a locator issue. He noted this was a gray area.

“What happened right after you saw yourself?”

“The guide turned me around. She noticed right away and pulled me back into the transport.”

“Did you get your hall picture for your mom?”

“Yes!” Tamara exclaimed. “Just barely. I wanted more but am ok with what I got.”

“So overall were you satisfied with the timehop?”

“It was ok,” Tamara said. “My cousin did it before me and he liked it a lot more. I’m not sure I’d do it again. Maybe. I’d have to think about it.”

“Ok, that’s honest,” Franklin said. “We can offer you a 50% discount on your next hop if you decide to take one. Apologies for the inconveniece.”

Franklin wrapped up the call, ate his perfect eggs, then packed up his equipment and headed out.

The sun was just coming up as he arrived at the closest transport facility. No one was there, it being several hours until opening. Probably why HQ East dispatched to the West coast. Every so often the company did something reasonable. Franklin could work uninterrupted.

During the drive he had been mentally working on the problem. Too bad Leo wasn’t here for this. They would have sent this one to Leo for sure, though. Leo, the superstar. And it was true he was a great guy, so patient, so skilled with the technology. He came up with brilliant solutions. People sought him out specifically. Franklin remembered one time two women were looking for Leo and actually chased him down a hallway. “There he is!” they had hollered, running after him.

No girls had ever chased Franklin down a hallway. He sighed, badging in to the building. He wasn’t the star Leo was, and never would be. But he was competent. He listened. He came up with fixes that were simple, easy, cost-effective and pretty much so straightforward no one noticed. He tried to take some consolation in that invisibility. No one had chased him in an angry rage either. He supposed that was a good thing.

(to be continued! Still writing!)