Arc One, Chapter Five, Tales of a Time Traveler
Family Ties
By Cimmaron Spirit
Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, 1919; Alpha Timeline
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“Okay, so Winnipeg.” Cimmaron said as he rounded a corner, adjusting a top hat he placed on his head, before fixing the tie he hastily fixed into his collar. “Early 20th century, the ‘Golden Years,’ when the city was called the Chicago of the North.” The horse skipped a couple steps, an excited nicker escaping his lips. “Man, I love history!”
Chris followed behind, straightening the black jacket he was wearing. “Where did you get these clothes?”
“I… found them,” Cim replied. “Just, you know, hanging there.”
“These belong to other people?” Chris exclaimed. “Your trench coat too?”
“Maybe? I don’t know, but we have to try to fit in, alright?” Cim gave a smile. “Plus, we can always return them later.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine.” The human looked around, smiling as he saw the tall brick and stone buildings, Union Jacks and banners hanging from the windows and buildings, most of which were several stories tall, painted different pastel colors or unadorned red bricks, nearly blocking out the sun. “But thanks for bringing me here.”
Cimmaron smiled. “Of course. But why did you want to come here?”
“Well, my great-grandfather lived in Winnipeg for most of his life, and he always told me how much he liked the city in its heyday, and I always wanted to see it.”
The horse chuckled. “Well I don’t think that’s…” he trailed off. “Wait a minute.”
“What?” Chris asked.
Cimmaron looked around. “There should be trolley cars here… and the businesses should be open. Cars, people, horses pulling carts… or rather feral horses, of course.” He looked both ways down the street. A couple people here and there were walking about; old women and young men, carrying on with their lives. “And yet…”
“So is everyone asleep? Did you get into a timeline where everyone just vanished?”
“No…” the horse said, spinning around. “At least, I’m pretty sure it shouldn’t be.” Cimmaron ran down the street until he found a newspaper booth, but was surprised to find no papers there.
“Wait, what?” Cimmaron said, looking through the stall, leaning over the front and nearly falling in. “Oh come on! A newspaper? A magazine? Just a little Post-it-Note of what the date is?”
Chris followed after. “Wait… you don’t know what year it is?”
Cimmaron sat up and looked at Chris. “Well… no. I just set the Chronodevice to the early 20th century. Just let it pick a time and open the portal and take us there.”
“Do you really just let your fancy pocket watch randomly pick where to go?” Chris asked. “This entire time?”
“The Chronodevice usually centers on a point in history that is important in the timeline that we are in, so I bet that’s what the Chronodevice…” Cim started before trailing off, his eyes growing wide as he realized something. “Does.”
“What are you talking about?” Chris asked.
Cimmaron glanced up and felt at the top hat he had, before pulling it off and tossing it into the booth. “Well I don’t think I better be wearing that.”
“What do you mean? Where are we? When are we?”
Cimmaron stopped and pivoted on his hoof, turning back to Chris with a grin. “We are in Winnipeg. In the biggest event of Winnipeg’s history in the early 20th century.”
Chris looked at Cim completely confused. Suddenly down the street, a loud cheer, followed by a rough chorus of voices, followed by the sound of marching feet. The two time traveler’s turned to face the crowd, dressed in well worn clothes and shoes, coming down the street, marching, shouting, waving banners. They looked like a mob, though one that was fairly orderly and even festive.
“We are in 1919. This is the Winnipeg General Strike,” Cim said. He pulled out his pocket watch and pushed the button, a small portal opening up on the side of the newspaper stand. Cim reached a hand into the hole and pulled out a cloth cap, which he fixed over his head. “And I think it’s time to meet the locals.”
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Chris wandered through the crowd of men, women and children as they marched, the entire working class of Winnipeg striking for fair pay and rights for the poor and impoverished. He didn’t remember his grandfather telling him about the General Strike, which seemed odd to him. This should have been the biggest moment of his time in Winnipeg, this massive event. Why had his grandfather never told him?
Cimmaron on the other hand was enjoying every moment of it. Something about how the two legged horse and history got along amazed Chris. But there was something else behind the excited horse, one that Chris couldn’t quite figure out.
“Cim, something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Chris asked.
The horse paused and looked down, his smile fading. “Well… yes. Remember when we were in Paris yet no one seemed very interested in a talking equine?”
“Kinda,” Chris said. “Why, is it the same thing here?”
Cimmaron pointed to someone a few feet in front of him. “See that woman up there?”
Chris followed the finger hoof to see a woman in calico, patched several times over, with a wool shawl over her head. “Yeah?”
“Well she has a tiger’s tail.”
Chris looked again, and was surprised to see a long orange and black furred tail swishing behind her.
“That’s a first. The first person like me,” Cimmaron said.
“Well did you say hi?”
“Had a nice chat with her. But yeah, had no idea who I was, but though there was one man that swore at her and me, I don’t see a huge backlash against, you know… animal people.”
“So you mean even though it’s rare it’s not hated?” Chris asked. “That’s good though, right?”
“No. No, that’s bad.” Cimmaron looked around through the crowd. “Humans have an amazing tendency to hate those not like them. That’s why the color of your skin determined if you owned people or were owned back when, and why religion is such a big source of conflict. I’m not saying that racism and that is good,” Cimmaron said, his hand fiddling with his pocket watch. “But the fact that it’s not happening, when it clearly should be, that’s the issue I have.”
“So are you going to do something about-” Chris started to ask, but Cimmaron was being pulled by the tide of the crowd away from Chris. Chris ran forward to try to catch up to the horse.
“Ahh!” A man in a light grey jacket and matching hat, a middle class clerk from one of the offices around, cried out as Chris bumped into him, tripping on one of the trolley rails in the middle of the street and then being flung forward and disappearing into the crowd. Chris stopped, and noticed the person lying on the ground.
“Oh God!” Chris exclaimed, fighting his way back to where the man, who was bleeding from his head. His foot slipped on the metal rail, and when he fell forward his skull fractured the moment it hit the asphalt, killing the man nearly instantly.
“Oh God! Oh God, oh God, of God!” Chris exclaimed, the lifeless body lying there on the street. Chris turned the man over to see his face, but froze the moment he saw his face.
“Chris!” Cimmaron exclaimed coming to a stop right beside Chris. “Chris? What happened?”
“I… I…” Chris stammered. “I…”
“You, you, you… what?” Cimmaron asked.
“I… bumped into my… this man and…”
Cimmaron leaned down, feeling for a pulse, checking his heart. “Well, he died quickly, I promise you that.”
“I… I didn’t mean…”
“I know Chris,” Cimmaron said, reaching into his pocket for the Chronobook. “Accidents happen. People die. And, unless this is, like, your grandfather, it’s not like time will collapse all around us.”
Chris blinked. “What?”
“Grandfather paradox,” Cimmaron explained, as he rolled the man over to find out who the man was.” If a time traveler goes back in time and kills a relative before they had one of your ancestors, then it should wipe out the time traveler from history, but then who would go back in time to kill the grandfather? Believe me, paradoxes are confusing, and, well, I don’t like them.”
Chris stared at Cim in shock, but the horse took no notice. Cim held the Chronobook up over the dead man’s body and tapped the screen. “William Howard Black,” Cimmaron finally said, after it got a reading of the body, sample of DNA and other documents.
“Black?” Chris said, his voice nearly a whisper.
“Yeah. Why? That mean anything to you?” Cim asked, but then blinked and looked at the screen. “Wait. I never got your last name. Three months of traveling together and I never got your last name.”
“Black.” Chris said, his voice really quiet now.
“Pardon, I didn’t hear you.”
“Black!” Chris said, but it was barely noticeable.
“I know I have big ears, but could you please speak up?” Cimmaron asked looking over, to see a nearly transparent, ghost like Chris crouched beside him. He mouthed the word “Black” one last time, before fading from existence.
“No, no!” Cimmaron exclaimed, reaching out to try to grab Chris, who vanished from sight.
“What the hell just happened?” Cimmaron said, standing up. He looked to the left, where the marchers had been, but only a few of them were still walking together, and even they were starting to fade like Chris did.
“Wait, what?” Cimmaron said, turning around to have the full force of the sun glaring into his eyes. “Wasn’t there just a building there a moment ago?”
As Cimmaron watched, the entire city of Winnipeg, and all the people on it, began to vanish: paved roads, city blocks, entire buildings disappearing until there was only wild prairie grass around him.
“What the hell is going on?!” Cimmaron cried out, his voice carried away by a breeze.
Grandfather Paradox the voice from the Chronobook said. Just as you described to Chris a moment ago.
Cimmaron held the Chronobook in his hand. “You… you weren’t going to tell me?”
Not like I could have stopped it, the device said. But yeah, basically that one accident just destroyed the entire City of Winnipeg.
“What? That’s how bad the Grandfather Paradox can be?”
Oh, not only that, the Chronobook said. Basically it’s just spreading outward from there. In a few minutes the wave from the time anomaly will reach Chicago, a few minutes after that Vancouver, then London, then Moscow… all of history in this moment of the timeline are wiped out, just like a ripple from a rock thrown in a pond. And then after erasing this moment, it then reaches backwards and forwards in time, until it starts hitting other timelines, causing them to be wiped out.
“How? Shouldn’t it have just erased Chris and his grandfather?”
Maybe, if that was all Chris had done, or will do.
“What do you mean?”
He’s time traveling with you, pony boy! How many places have you gone to where Chris helped you, or got into trouble, or just ate a sandwich? A hell of a lot of the multiverse I’d think.
Cimmaron’s eyes went wide. “I’m wiping out all of time and space right now?”
Well, it’s not your fault. Just your clumsy companion.
“He’s not clumsy!” Cimmaron shouted at the golden tablet in his hands. He threw the thing on the ground, making the voice of the Chronobook exclaim as it crashed into the earth.
Ow! That hurt you know.
Cimmaron stared at the spot where just a few moments ago Chris had been kneeling, panicking over the man he accidently killed, who just happened to be his grandfather. “Chris… no. I… I did this.” Cimmaron said, a tear running down his check as the full weight of what just happened hit him. “I just… erased everything.”
Cimmaron took several deep breaths, stumbling around where pavement and cement and people once had been. “Okay… okay… I can fix this.”
Fix this? How? The Chronobook asked.
“I… I don’t rightly know.” Cim admitted, reaching into his pocket to grab his Chronodevice. But I sure as hell can try!”
But the Chronodevice can’t go back to the moment of the paradox. It’s currently time locked.
“Fine, then I just go a few minutes… an hour earlier.” Cimmaron said, twisting the fob on the top of the pocket watch, then running over to grab the Chronobook. “It takes several minutes for the effect to be felt across the planet, right?”
Well, yes. I think the Paradox is hitting Tokyo right now. Well, where Tokyo was.
“Okay, but has it hasn’t effected events before or after, right?”
It’s starting to. The moment was 11:28 AM, Thursday, May 15, 1919 no longer exists in this timeline. But not before 11:24 and 11:32.
“Perfect. I just need to get to 11 AM and stop Chris’ grandfather from marching in the parade, and all is good!” Cimmaron adjusted the fob on his pocket watch, and pressed the button, an orange and white portal opening in front of him. It sputtered and wobbled, and made a horrendous screeching sound due to the instability of the multiverse, but Cimmaron took a deep breath and jumped through it.
It was Winnipeg again, but already things seemed a bit off, though according to the pocket watch it was now 11:18 AM. Ten minutes before the paradox occurred.
Cimmaron ran down the street toward the marching strikers, nearly throwing himself into the crowd. There was the tiger lady from before, and an owl that Cim must have missed earlier. They, and the multitude of humans around all watched as the brown horse person in the tan trench coat jumped into the crowd, wading upstream through a torrent of people.
11:21 the Chronobook mentioned to Cim. He realized he had jammed it into an inside coat pocket as he was setting up the portal.
“William Black?” Cimmaron started shouting, scanning the crowd. He could see it was starting to thin out with people turning into ghosts. 11:23 “William Black?”
But the people chanting and cheering all around him drowned out Cim’s voice. The horse bit his lip. What was the color of the man’s suit? Cim asked himself.
Grey, I think, the Chronodevice said. More a fossil grey than anchor or silver. Also, it’s now 11:25.
Cimmaron looked around, noticing a few dozen people with clothes different shades of grey. Well that helped narrow it down.
And a hat. 11:26.
Cimmaron turned around, and found a man with a grey hat. Cimmaron slipped through the crowd, and caught up to the man.
“William Black?” Cim asked. He glanced up, to see himself and Chris just a few feet behind.
11:27.
“Yes?” the man answered. “Can I help you?”
The past Cim looked up and noticed the present Cim, and started moving forward, as if to try to reach him. The past Cim didn’t remember seeing another Cim, he must be rewriting the Timeline right now. So, was that good? Hopefully…
“Well, yes,” Cimmaron said, before crouching a bit, grabbing William’s hand and pulling him out of the crowd of strikers. “If you could just come with me quickly!”
“Hey! What is the meaning of this?” William shouted. “Let go of me!”
“Sorry, it’s for your own good,” Cimmaron replied, before pulling Chris’ grandfather free from the crowd. And for the entire multiverse.
William Black, who was a bit off balance from being dragged along, fell to one knee near the curb. Cim, took a deep breath then exhaled, fishing out his Chronodevice and opening it up. 11:28 AM. Thursday, May 15, 1919.
I… I did it! Cim thought.
Did what? Chris’ voice asked in Cimmaron’s head.
The horse turned around to see both the other Cimmaron and Chris were walking toward him and William Black.
The other Cimmaron came up and looked over the past Cimmaron, right down to the same cloth cap they both took earlier. “So who are you? An AltCim?”
“I… don’t know. I know I’m you, about this time after Chris accidently bumped into this man,” Cimmaron replied.
“What, who are you? Twins?” William asked, looking between the two horses.
“Not really, but yes,” the Cimmaron that had solved the Paradox said, before turning to Chris. “Anyway, just a few moments ago, you bumped into this man, accidently killing him, and creating a grandfather paradox, nearly wiping out all of time and space.”
Chris blinked. “What? This… is…”
“Grandfather? What do you mean?” William asked.
The past Cim blinked, rubbing his head for a moment, before snapping his fingers “Ah ha! I get it now!” He turned to the Paradox Cim with a cock eyed grin. “Telepathy is such a great thing.”
The Paradox Cimmaron grinned. “William Black, I would like you to meet your Grandson, Chris Black.”
The two Black’s stared at each other, looking each other over. “You… you’re from the future?”
“Almost a hundred years into the future, yes.”
William blinked, then smiled, and then laughed. “Oh my, oh my, I’m glad to find out that my family continues on,” he said, before wrapping his arms around Chris into a big hug.
Chris was surprised. Uh… Cim… or Cims, won’t this create a paradox?
Nah. The future Cim said. Meeting your relatives isn’t bad…
…just maybe accidently killing them is, the other one finished.
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Chris and William Black sat opposite of each other in a small, yet cozy apartment overlooking the city of Winnipeg. It was still shut down over the General Strike, but at least heat and running water, as well as some markets, were still open. The two Cim’s stood next to each other and watched as their companion and his grandfather talked away.
The Paradox Cimmaron sighed, drumming his fingers on his arm. “So… what happens to us now?”
The past Cim looked up from the cup of tea in his hand. “What do you mean?”
“Well, sure I just saved the entire multiverse from being wiped out and everything… but I can’t get back to that timeline, since it doesn’t exist.”
“What do you mean?” Cimmaron asked.
“I tried it before we came up here, but my Chronodevice won’t take me back to the moment the Paradox happened. I guess that means the version of the timeline I… we were originally in doesn’t exist anymore.” He sighed.
“So… you are almost a paradox yourself now, huh?”
“I… guess so,” Paradox Cimmaron said. “I hate paradoxes.”
“Well, as long as it happens to us and not to the multiverse, it should be fine, right?” the regular Cimmaron said.
The Paradox Cim shrugged his shoulders, but then grabbed his trench coat. “I guess I’ll see if I can still time travel. If not… well, Winnipeg’s not that bad a place at the moment.”
“Except for the winters.”
“Well, of course.” The Paradox Cimmaron began to walk away, sighing. “I knew someday I was going to leave Chris, I just didn’t expect it was going to be this way.”
Cimmaron grabbed Paradox Cim’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Paradox Cim turned around. “Don’t apologize. I did what I had to do.”
The regular Cimmaron smiled, and reached out his hand. The Paradox Cim took it, and gave a firm handshake.
“Thank you,” the regular Cimmaron said.
The Paradox Cim just nodded, then left the apartment, being careful not to slam the door shut.
Cimmaron clip-clopped over to William and Chris, still talking to each other.
“Ah, Cimmaron,” William said, motioning to the chair. “Chris has been telling me a lot about you.” Chris’ grandfather, who really wasn’t much older than Chris at the moment, shook his head. “I always thought time travel was just a fictional thing.”
Cimmaron nodded. “Well, for you it will have to be that.”
“What do you mean?” William asked.
Chris looked up to Cimmaron. “What are you talking about?”
Cimmaron sighed. “I don’t know how to say this, but you are going to have to forget everything that happened today, William.”
“What?” William said. “How can you say that?”
“Time travel is both a great and a dangerous thing. And since Chris has been telling you a lot about events in the future and the past that shouldn’t be known, allowing you to remember them will possibly cause damage to the Multiverse.”
William looked at the horse, then to his grandson, that he shouldn’t have met for almost sixty years. “So, I will forget this?”
“I’m afraid so,” Cimmaron said, as he pulled out the Chronodevice, holding it on a long gold chain. “I hate to do this, but if I don’t, then bad things could happen.”
Cimmaron faced William, and began to swing the Chronodevice in front of William. “Follow the pocket watch, watch it swing back and forth, back and forth…” the horse’s voice was low, slow and smoothing. “The memories of today are fading away. When you wake up, you won’t remember anything that happened today.”
William’s eyes followed the golden timepiece back and forth, back and forth, his eyes glazing over in a trance.
“And now… good night, William Black,” Cimmaron said, and just like that, William fell asleep in his chair.
Chris looked at Cimmaron. “You just wiped his memory?”
“No, more I locked it very, very deep in his mind. Only the very best hypnotist could get that out… and none of them live around here.” Cimmaron stood up and turned, with trench coat fluttering behind him. “But we have to go now.”
Chris looked at the suit he was still wearing. “Shouldn’t we return this?”
The horse grinned, pushing the fob on the Chronodevice, an orange and white portal opening right in front of Cim. “And now… let’s see where we go.” Cimmaron looked over Chris. “ And why now? It looks good on you.” Cimmaron stepped into the portal. “Always got later to do that."
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