Back and forth in Time...
The man opened his eyes, feeling the refreshing air caressing his face. Time travel was becoming increasingly exhausting over time. Each new journey seemed to cause him more suffering. Yet, he couldn't help but continue. After all, that's why he had received his watch: to experience adventures through the ages.
More recently, things had taken a strange turn. Insignificant historical details seemed to be turning into major events, altering the course of history. These changes were becoming increasingly permanent as time passed. Something was amiss, a disruption seemed to have affected the very fabric of time. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it... or determine when it had started. The few other Travelers he had encountered had also noticed these anomalies, but none could identify their origin. Despite this, he continued his travels, conducting his own research while enjoying the adventure.
After consulting his watch, he noted that it was 5:32 PM. The sun would soon rise, awakening the quiet streets of 14th century Paris. Having just returned from the 22nd century, he needed to change quickly to avoid drawing attention. However, the side effects of time travel were bothering him: nausea, dizziness... Traveling was not always a pleasure, but he knew he had to overcome these inconveniences to not miss out on what time had in store for him. He traveled alone, but always made new encounters. The Travelers were strangely alone.
As he walked down a deserted main street, a familiar voice startled him.
"Put this on!" he was ordered.
He turned around to see Schmitt, another Time Traveler with whom he had formed a bond over time. Despite coming from different eras, they shared the strange existence of being time jumpers. Schmitt was from the 17th century.
"Schmitt, what are you doing here?" he asked, perplexed.
"Put this on, then we'll talk," Schmitt replied, handing him some period clothing.
The man obeyed, quickly changing as the sun rose in the sky and the streets slowly came to life.
"Alright. Now, let's talk," Schmitt declared, inviting him to walk alongside.
"Why are you here?"
"Oh, you know, the story of a man who claimed to be a Time Traveler in the 14th century and ended up being confined to an asylum. Does that ring a bell for you?"
"No, not at all," he replied, surprised.
"That's normal, because I just saved you from that fate. I'm talking about you. You would have ended up like that if I hadn't found you," Schmitt added.
"Oh... thank you?"
"You're welcome. But mostly, it was an excuse to have this conversation."
"What's going on?" the man asked, increasingly intrigued.
Schmitt and the man continued to stroll through the street as the residents began their activities, breathing new life into the city. Paris in the 14th century had always been fascinating, and traveling through time never failed to provide a strange sensation. However, Schmitt seemed disturbed by something.
"I went back to 2099 for the second time, but everything was different," he confided uneasily. "You know, 2099 is a post-apocalyptic era. Society was supposed to be rebuilt, demographics increased. But this time, nothing seemed to fit. Everything seemed to be standing still, if not worse. They were even announcing the construction of new nuclear weapons. There's clearly something wrong with the times."
"That's what I feared," replied the man, sharing his experience. "I've watched whole swathes of history altered. The other Travelers I've met have seen the same thing, but no one knows the origin. Do you have any idea what's causing it?"
"Well, I may have a clue. I've tried a different approach, inspired by the teachings of a Traveler from 2287. Instead of looking for the direct cause, I followed what he called 'timelines', and found coordinates. All these lines converge on a single person: a young Traveller of no great importance. I thought you could take charge, investigate in your own way. The only date I have is February 16, 2017, in London, UK."
"Do you have a specific place in mind?"
"Yes, hold on," Schmitt replied, searching through his pockets.
He took out a black and white photo, reminiscent of those from past or future times depending on the date. The man examined it carefully. It was the facade of a restaurant named L'Auben. Schmitt was much more skilled than him in investigations. Without hesitation, he accepted the mission. He would travel to the future to discover what had altered the course of history.
"Got the date, but I still need the exact time and a description of the Traveler," he emphasized.
"According to my information, you should find her in this restaurant around noon," Schmitt specified. "I can't describe her appearance accurately, but I'm confident that you'll recognize her as soon as you see her. Travelers recognize each other, don't they? Like an instinct?"
"It depends on the Travelers, but I see what you mean. It's strangely true. Well, I have all the information I need. You can count on me."
In the following hours, they strolled through the streets of Paris, exchanging goodbyes in the late afternoon. The man had promised to keep Schmitt informed of his progress, and the latter had already set a meeting place for their next encounter. Schmitt disappeared in a flash of white light, leaving the man alone on a street corner. He removed his 14th-century attire, adjusted his watch, and activated the mechanism. An unpleasant sensation of pressure in his head preceded his arrival in a new era.
He landed on his knees on the asphalt, struggling to stand up. Following the coordinates provided by Schmitt, he took a deep breath before looking up, despite the persistent nausea. The watch displayed February 16, 2017, 12 p.m., London, United Kingdom. Schmitt had been categorical: all timelines were converging towards a single person, a seemingly unimportant young Traveler. Looking around, he pulled out the photo, confirming that he was indeed standing in front of the restaurant where she was supposed to be.
His gaze scanned the interior of the restaurant. Schmitt had not been able to provide a precise description, but suddenly, he spotted her. A young woman with white hair, dressed in a white shirt and a black skirt, and wearing a bow in her hair. Strangely, she did not look like a Traveler at all. He noticed that she was not wearing a watch, a sign that she was not one yet. Why had he been sent to this date then? It seemed to be her birthday, judging by the cake in front of her. But the scene seemed sad to him. Where were her friends? her parents? Who was she really? She was just an ordinary young woman. Yet, all the temporal anomalies seemed to revolve around her. Why?
As he watched the scene, she suddenly turned her gaze towards him. He met her eyes but quickly looked away and distanced himself as much as possible. He had to admit, this girl was not important, yet she was at the heart of all the historical upheavals. He had to solve this mystery, but first, he had to discover what had triggered this catastrophe. He had almost three hours before his watch needed to be recharged. He couldn't leave, not now. He settled in a nearby café, thankfully he had money from different countries and time periods in his bag.
An hour passed before the young woman finally left the restaurant. It was fortunate that the small family was walking home. If he could obtain the young girl's name, he could learn more about her. Standing up, he decided to follow them. He was skilled in the art of "tailing" someone. The girl walked behind with her grandfather, while her brother was in front with her grandmother. They seemed happy, and he could feel it even from several meters behind them. Was this how pure happiness manifested? He had never felt it this way. Luckily, the streets were quite busy, and no one would notice his discreet surveillance. After about thirty minutes of walking, they entered a building that seemed well beyond his means.
"Damn," he muttered as he realized he needed a code to enter.
He decided to wait, hoping that someone would come out soon. After another thirty minutes, someone finally emerged from the building. It was the opportunity he had been waiting for. However, he still didn't know the name of the young girl. Without hesitation, he approached the man in his forties who had just come out, holding the door open.
"Excuse me," he began awkwardly, "do you know the apartment number of the grandparents of that young girl with white hair?"
"The Wells? Why?" he asked, suspicious.
"I'm a friend of the family, but I rarely come here. Thank you," he replied with a relieved smile, having obtained their last name.
The man smiled slightly, seemingly not fully grasping the situation, and then walked away. The Wells, perfect. With that last name, he could at least locate their mailbox. As he inspected the entrance of the building, he identified six mailboxes, with only one bearing the name 'Richard and Isma Wells, ground floor.' It was a good start, but he still lacked the first name of the young girl. Would having their full name and address be enough to find her? Unfortunately, in the context of Time Travel, that was not sufficient. As he pondered, a young woman with her dog descended the steps.
"Hello, sorry to bother you."
"Yes?" she replied with a warm smile.
"Do you know Richard and Isma Wells?" he asked, trying his best to sound natural.
"Oh yes, very well indeed! Why?"
"I'm a family friend, but I have to admit I don't know them very well. It's their granddaughter's birthday, but I can't remember her name. I have her gift in my bag, and I don't want to show up at their place without knowing the birthday girl's name... Do you understand?" he explained, with a sheepish smile.
She chuckled softly.
"Haha, I understand, yes, I often forget names too! Her name is Swann, she and her brother, Brinley, are very often at home."
"Thank you so much! You're a lifesaver," he said jokingly.
"You're welcome, have a good day!" she replied, waving as she walked away.
The British were certainly very polite. Her smile faded as soon as she walked through the door. Their apartment was only a few meters away, and he could have entered it instantly if he had wanted to. But he refrained. He set his watch to 1969, USA, New York, noon, at a café on 39th Street. Schmitt was waiting there to discuss their findings on this matter. Focusing, he activated his watch.
Good grief... These time travels were exhausting him. He landed again on the pavement, in a dark alley next to the café, but he couldn't get up. His head was excruciatingly painful, dizziness returned, and every thought seemed to trigger an explosion in his skull. Nausea gnawed at him. He knew he would collapse like a rag doll if he tried to get up. Holding his head in one hand, the other fell limply on his leg. He kept his eyes closed, unsure of what he would see if he opened them.
This sensation indicated that he had traveled too much without rest. He knew it. He hadn't slept for days, but even when sleeping, nothing changed. Maintaining a normal lifestyle was difficult when constantly traveling through time. Suddenly, two hands grabbed his arm. He abruptly opened his eyes, bewildered. He felt extremely weak; this journey had once again taken a toll on his physical condition. He didn't have time to see who was there before nausea overwhelmed him again. This time, he couldn't contain it and vomited. The person who had grabbed him helped him avoid the mess.
"Well, you didn't miss, " said Schmitt, keeping him standing.
"Schmitt...?" the man responded weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"It's noon, you're strangely on time."
"How..."
As he was about to finish his sentence, his legs gave way. Without Schmitt, he would have fallen. Luckily, his friend was there to catch him effortlessly.
"How long has it been since you last stopped?" he asked as they walked slowly.
"Oh, you know... it's complicated..."
"Are you hungry?"
"Not really, I feel like I'm going to vomit everything again..."
"Alright, I understand. No food for you for the time being," Schmitt interrupted.
Schmitt helped his friend walk to the café. The man was standing, but he was too weak. He had experienced this state more than once. It happened when the body could no longer handle the stress of time travel. After a few hours of rest, he would feel better. They entered the café, Schmitt helped him sit down, and then ordered an apple pie with a black coffee and a glass of water. The man buried his face in his hands, closing his eyes again. The nausea had subsided, but the dizziness persisted, and everything seemed to be spinning around him. He silently thanked Schmitt for not asking him about his discoveries. He needed to gather his thoughts. A minute passed before he looked up at Schmitt, who was staring at him while eating his pie. A look of disgust crossed his face.
"Are you okay?" Schmitt asked.
"Yeah, don't worry."
"Here," he said, offering her the glass of water.
"No, thank you..."
"Drink."
The man could only obey. Schmitt could be frightening when giving orders. After drinking everything, he felt strangely better.
"Feeling better, aren't you?"
"Yes, surprisingly."
Schmitt observed his friend, looking pale. Despite his claims, he knew he wasn't feeling any better. He was exhausted and needed to rest before he could continue.
"Are you up for talking?"
"Yes..."
"Well, what did you discover then?"
"I followed the coordinates you gave me, and I arrived near the restaurant. She was there, just as you said. You were right, Schmitt, we can recognize the other Travelers."
"Ah, I knew it."
"She was inside with three other people, whom I took to be her brother and her grandparents. They were celebrating her birthday. I waited for them to leave, then followed them to her grandparents' building. I had to wait for someone to enter or exit, as it was a code entry. "
"Typical of the 21st century, always concerned about security. Did you manage to get in?"
"Yes, after talking to two people, I got her first and last name."
"What are they?"
"Her name is Swann Wells. But there's a catch: at the time you sent me, Schmitt, she didn't have a watch yet."
"Sure, we need to know when she received it."
"If we want to understand why the timelines are converging towards her, yes."
"Now that we have her full name and her century of existence, I think I can find that for you. I will go back to 2287 to get the information you need."
"Okay."
"You, on the other hand, stay here. Order something to eat, I'll join you in ten minutes."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously. No more traveling for you today. As soon as I come back, we will find a hotel."
"Haha," the man laughs, "you are very modern for a man from the 17th century."
Schmitt ignored the remark, leaving some change on the table before leaving. The man nodded and rested his head on his arms. Schmitt called over a waitress, ordered an apple pie and a glass of water for himself, and informed her that his friend wasn't feeling well but the payment was already on the table. He glanced one last time at the table, eager to return. His friend really needed some rest. Schmitt left the café, went back into the alley, and adjusted his watch to 2287.
Meanwhile, the man was still slumped over the table. He jumped when the waitress placed the pie and glass of water on the table.
"Your friend placed an order and said he would be back in ten minutes. I think if you haven't finished by then, it will go badly for you," she joked.
"Ha, thank you..."
"Are you okay? You look pale."
"Yes, don't worry. I just think I need some rest," he replied, returning her smile.
The waitress nodded and went to attend to other customers. The man glanced at his watch. Would Schmitt be back in ten minutes? The waitress was right, if he didn't eat anything by then, he might be hungry. So, he forced himself to eat a little, but the nausea and dizziness returned. He gulped down his glass of water and buried his face in his arms again.
Ten minutes later, Schmitt reappeared in the alley. The effects of Time Travel were starting to catch up with him as well. He regained his composure and went back to the café, where the man was still sitting. The pie was barely touched and the glass of water was empty, indicating that he hadn't moved since his departure. Schmitt sat down next to him, noticing that he wasn't asleep.
"Have you found the information we need?" he murmured.
"Did you eat some pie?" Schmitt replied.
"A little bit, yes."
"Good, let's go."
The man lifted his head, and Schmitt helped him to stand and walk. He was still very weak. Schmitt knew of a nearby hotel where they could rest and discuss the Traveler. The changes in history were becoming more noticeable; for example, that year, in 1969, Apollo 11 would not take place, as the Russians had taken the lead in space exploration. They needed to hurry to find out why this Traveler was so important.
They entered the hotel, with Schmitt still firmly supporting his friend. They approached the reception desk where a receptionist welcomed them.
"Hello and welcome."
"Yes, hello. Do you have any rooms available?" Schmitt asked.
"Let me check," he replied, flipping through his notebook.
"There are keys behind you," the man interjected.
The receptionist looked up, appearing embarrassed.
"Um, I mean..."
"A room. Please," Schmitt intervened sternly this time.
"Y-yes. Here you go," the receptionist replied, handing him a key. "A name for the registry?"
"Schmitt. S-C-H-M-I-T-T."
The receptionist nodded, took note of his name, and the two friends headed towards the room. They took the elevator as the room was on the second floor. Schmitt opened the door to reveal a single double bed, which seemed ironic. He closed the door behind him and helped his friend settle on the bed, while he himself would take the sofa. The man fell asleep almost immediately after lying down. Schmitt couldn't help but smile, seeing him finally resting, knowing how exhausted the Travels had left him. Then he lay down on the sofa himself. They were in great need of rest; the Voyager and the History could wait a few more hours.
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