The Time Travailing Toast Trials Of Timothy Thompson

An adventure that starts with a broken toaster.

The Time Travailing Toast Trials Of Timothy Thompson

Prologue

Timothy Thompson was not a huge fan of toast, in fact if anyone were to ask him about his feelings pertaining to toast he would more than likely shrug and dismiss it as something of no importance to him.

Still ever since the 11th of July 1989 he had consumed at least two pieces of toast a day, while a child the toast would come buttered with Strawberry Jam along side some own brand cola in a pint glass, while in his teens he wanted to impress his family and so he had it only buttered along with a cup of lightly milked tea.

Now as an adult living with his girlfriend he was back to a pint glass of cola, though he had upgraded to a name brand.

His girlfriend did not eat toast or bread of any sort, this was something that if point out to Timothy would be a genuine shock to him, he would think nothing less over her of course, it was only bread. But had been something that in the last two years he had not noticed.

He wasn't a morning person and giving up on the morning tea meant that it took him a few hours to be conscious of anything in much detail. She ate a bowl of Muesli with self sliced banana on it with the same regularity that he ate toast. Whether or not she was aware of Timothy's breakfast habits remains to be seen.

They had seen each many times while walking around the city since they were kids but neither thought anything of the other, hundreds of hidden memories of seeing the other person lurked in both of their minds but without the right catalyst would go without ever coming to light.

To their incorrect view of history they first met when Timothy started at a data entry job in an office where Lisa was tasked with giving the company welcome and rules talk.

She gave the same pat speech she had given 33 times before but this time it served as an icebreaker for the two, the normal embarrassing moment of finding something to talk about had been filled with the formalities and in less than 4 days they had already fondled each other's genitals through their clothes, in the case of Timothy's genitals it was past the point of ejaculation but somehow Lisa never found out and so what started out as exciting for the last 14% was awkward and uncomfortable. They grew better around each other and full penetration would be achieved 75 hours and 11 minutes later.

As of October 2nd Lisa had gone to Scotland to help the company she worked for set up an office there. While it had only been 3 days Timothy had already began to miss her to the point of becoming useless, spending hours wandering around the flat looking for something to do and wondering where all the boxes of muesli had come from.

On October 1st he had bought a mid priced loaf of white bread then put in the bread bin near the kitchen sink, by the 5th it was down 8 sliced before he took a further two inserting them into his quite nice toaster that he had gotten on August 17th 2010, it had followed him two two other homes and didn't once fail to toast the bread it was asked to, and today in that regard at least would be no different.

Chapter 1

Of Toast And The City

5th October 2016

08:33 AM

8 hours, 15 minutes and 22 seconds were not enough for Timothy Thompson and so he stumbled towards the kitchen clumsily knocking himself against walls and door frames. Making it to the kitchen was the easy part now he had to, in his semi-sleep state, navigate the complexities of the under-the-lip-of-the-rim catch to open the bread bin, then the fiddly little yellow sticky strip around the twisted end of the breads plastic sheathing. He slinked the slices into their individual slots then thumbed down starting the toasting process.

Then the cola, one glass placed on the table just a little too hard giving it a 0.1% chance of shattering, then the pulling the fridge's door until his strength bettered that of the suction holding it shut. Swinging the 2 litre bottle out and into the nook of this free arm, then his index finger and thumb worked like pistons shooting forward staggered one after the other until the cap spun off and was instantly caught in the palm of his hand, a spin and dip of the body as well as a slow tilt of the bottle and the glass was soon filled. The prior actions playing out in reverse to return the now lighter bottle to its cold resting place.

Cola phase complete he just needed to wait for the ''krucc!'' of the toast popping up, to let him continue on to the butter application phase of the whole process.

On auto pilot he krypton factored these tasks with only a slight scattering of bread crumbs and a pool or two of cola to show that he was ever there. In his morning zombie state he was single minded in arranging his perfect routine breakfast.

But there would be no krucc! That day.

1st October 2016

03:12 PM

“Come on Liz, get someone else to go.”

He had tried for the whole month to 'play it cool' but being cool had proven itself to be far too much work.

“Cancel now!?”

She shot him a look of pure shock that made her eyes widen and her mouth warp in just the perfect way to make her even more beautiful, Timothy made a mental note to shock her more often.

“You'll be gone for 2 weeks, without you here... my soul will break.”

As soon as he could feel the vibrations that would lead to those words he knew they would end up making the corniest sentence in human history unto that point.

“Ba!” Was the only response Liz could get out.

“What, you won't miss me?”

“Of course I'll miss you, I like you.”

“Like? So all that fun stuff we do in bed is us making 'like together'!?”

“I'm not cancelling the day before I go.” Her tone was a deflated and defeated one, Timothy had won, but she was still leaving. A victory where the reward was the same as the punishment for loosing.

“We'll do something you want when I get back.” This was her peace offering.

“Fine, enjoy your trip.” He already had ideas for how far he could take her offer, 'something you want' this could mean bed room stuff, but he was happy with the current state of their bedroom politics. The only thing he could think off was dragging her to a wrestling event, but the NIA wasn't going to have anything on for ages.

“Love you.” She spoke so quietly and Timothy was so deep in scheming mode that he almost didn't hear her.

“Love you too liz. You going to bring me anything back?”

“From the countless empty office floors I'm going to be going through?” She wasn't often sarcastic but she was slowly getting better at it.

“I was more thinking of something from a shop.” Timothy however was not improving on picking up sarcasm. “we're outa' bread, you want anything from the corner shop?”

“Na'.”

Timothy slipped on his still tied trainers and pulled the door open, shifting the small pile of nuisance letters that had collected there. “See ya' soon.” He walked out, closing the door behind him.

11th June 1990

11:10 AM

He had seen one of his dad's porno mags a few weeks earlier and showed it to his friends on the path behind his house where the tall garden walls meant it was always dark.

One of his friends was Gladys, they would have called her a tomboy if they knew that term. She wasn't aggressively anti girl stuff but she liked playing Cricket and video games so found herself around Tim and his friends, she also liked that they agreed to call her 'Dy' rather than the old lady sounding name her parents lumped her with.

Tim didn't think twice about showing all his friends the dirty mag and they all felt oddly moved by it, before theses pages the worst stuff they had seen was a few b***s on Channel 4.

This European import was one of those 'show it, poke it' types that dads paid a lot of money for and if their wives ever found it would pay even dearer.

Dy more than any of them had the thought of it in her mind afterwards, she didn't look anything like the woman in the book and didn't know how close the boys were to the men, she had walked in on her brother using toilet once but missed the opportunity to check.

She had taken four days to ask Tim to meet her back on the shaded path, once there she got naked and asked him to do the same.

Years later Timothy would look on this moment as one of the oddest of his life, mainly due to how nothing came of it. He and Dy never went out, never made out, he lost his virginity many years later to someone he hadn’t even met by that point and by the time he met the woman who would take his virginity he had lost contact with Dy.

The strongest memories for him of the whole moment was how he and Dy put back on their clothes and he walked back into his garden, it was at the same time a very important time for him and one of the least eventful.

1st October 2016

03:21 PM

He bought the bread, a chocolate bar and left.

Chapter 2

Two For One

At 2 minutes past 1 at night, in the year 1984 both Timothy and Michael Thompson were born, 100% identical in every possible way.

In 2016 they had grown into very different people, it would have been impossible not to.

In November of 1990 their parents split up.

Timothy stayed in Britain with their mother and Michael moved with their father to Germany. The two had not seen one another since then, every holiday of note Timothy would fret about sending his brother a card but in the end always decides against it. He would feel guilty but the fact that Michael would never send one either did in his mind absolve him.

1st February 1991

08:10 PM

Michael and his father were taking a plane to Germany, their new home. Knowing he could sometimes be restless Michael's dad had bought him a Game Boy, carry case and selection of games to keep him quiet. It was working. Rather then cry about leaving his friends, brother and mother he was hunched over clearing lines and racking up points.

“Do you want to play with my magic set?”

The 8-bit rendition of Russian folk music had Michael in enough of a spell that he didn't even know he was being talked to. Then came a nudge on his arm, he paused then looked up at his dad.

Over the other side of the aisle was a girl with dirty blond hair knotted up and scruffily paused up into a dull grey basketball cap.

“Wha'?” He was still too young to know to always be on your game.

“D... Do you want to play with my magic set.”

On her lap was a hefty and shiny box, serving as a makeshift table to practice it's magic tricks on.

“OK then.” He wasn't a fan of magic at all but it was a chance to play with someone else’s toys and that was always a chance worth taking.

He mimicked the set up he saw the girl use, by wedging firmly in-between the back of the seat in front and his stomach.

There was a glossy pamphlet with instructions on how to use the contents of the box for simple magic tricks. He had just started reading the 5th page when his father nudged him again.

“Why don't you let her play with your toy?”

That wasn't part of the deal, his toy was top of the line fun and so far this magic set was at best unwieldy in this environment and at worse completely unusable. Now he had to give up his guaranteed entertainment for a box filled with plastic cups and flowers that only becomes interesting with tens of hours of practice.

While not the most naturally chivalrous he knew he would look like some form of monster if he refused or just handed the magic set back, even though he had been tricked into sharing down he had to go through with it. So he handed over his Gameboy and even the carry case full of games.

“She'll be careful with it, I'll make sure.” Her mother leaned forward so Michael could see her face. It was only after they stopped making eye contact that Michael realised his face was contorted into a worried frown.

The minuscule desire he had to play around with the magic set ran dry after the Gameboy was in someone else's hands. He kept the pamphlet open as he listed to the sounds from his Gameboy hoping to discern what was happening on it.

What seemed like many lifetimes later a hand reached out towards him with the Gameboy and the strap of the carry case clench in it.

He took them, then cradled them over to his father before handing a neatly sorted magic set back.

“On your holidays?” The girls mother spoke over both her own daughter and Michael all the way to his dad.

“Oh no, we are moving to Germany permanently.”

As they talked Michael motioned for his Gameboy back and his father passed it in the same wordless fashion.

“Ditto' whereabouts?”

“Leipzig.”

“That's amazing, us two. I never would have but then one day the postman...”

Michael tried to turn the Gameboy on and found the batteries dead. Leaving England was already going horribly.

1st October 2016

03:23 PM

Timothy re-counted his change a few more times as he walked home, shopping back swinging from his wrist.

“Did I hand him a fiver or a tenner?”

5th October 2016

08:36 AM

He was willing to give the toaster to a count of thirty to pop, or else.

12th August 1990

06:51 PM

School was over but Michael knew Dy liked to use the play field. So he climbed over the bent down patch of fencing and looked around for her, going around the school when no one was around made him feel oddly powerful, as though he was suppose to be in class but decided not to go, breaking rules with a stride. He had walked around half of the school with no luck but then heard a thumping.

Turning a corner he came across Dy near where the bins for the kitchens were kept, she was standing in between two dumpers tossing a tennis ball as though if it was a cricket ball against the bricks across for her.

He didn't say anything, he had no reason to look for Dy he just wanted to, so he just stood watching.

“Wanna' play?” She spoke in-between throws.

“Tennis?”

“Cricket!”

4th October 2024

05:22 AM

“Mitch! Wake up!” It was Max's voice, always excitable no matter how early.

Mitch awoke to the shouts and dragged himself over to the door, letting out a heavy cough to clear his throat.

“What!?”

Max climbed halfway up the staircase, his face beaming.

“The Wagons coming!”

“So? We have some supplies left over from last time?”

“Food sure, but we didn't have enough to trade for anything else then. After that truck we found split open against that tree.”

“I'm not giving the Wagon any of that.”

“What will the three of us do with hundreds of pairs of boots?”

“Keep them.”

“They are pristine, new, unworn, the wagon would pay us its entire load for them. Medicine, coats, cans.”

“Fine... keep a good amount back though, it would be infuriating if in a couple of years I have to trade out the a*s just for a pair of these back.”

“I wasn't just asking your permission, I wanted to you to be there as muscle.”

“You are the only person left in the world who finds me imposing.”

“Good point... wait a sec.” Max scaled the second half of the staircase then darted past Mitch's door. After the sound of metallic clanging he returned and handed Mitch a slightly rusted butter knife.

“What's this?”

“A knife.”

“Bearly, this thing looks like it would have trouble cutting the air.”

“Well... just show the hilt off a little.”

“Hilt?”

“Yeah... just enough so they get the point.”

“There is no point to get.”

“Just make sure they know not to mess with us.”

“Yeah, or I'll wipe some tetanus on them.”

4th October 2024

05:27 AM

Mitch had taken his position against the walls their squat, with Max a few steps in front, alongside the road the Wagon was travelling. Before it turned up Mitch looked around, the yellow sky was pale, no 'rain' for the next few days, first good omen in a while.

The Wagon for as important as it had become was a funny looking thing, A pre-fall bus large bulbous mounds on its sides and roof covered in trap and weather worn sacking. The rims of the wheels modified to allow it to run without having to rely on rare tires that could puncture at any moment. The thing was covered in mustard yellow paint, with 'trades' white across the side the whole mess being pulled by four powerful horses, themselves layered with graffiti covered cloths.

The horse's reins that led into the bus though the now glassless front pulled and whipped, a moment later it had come to a complete stop. From out of the space where a door used to be stepped a man with a large beard, dear stalker, large sun glasses above a large grey beard running down to his stomach and many layers of coats on.

“So what you want today?” Even his friendly demeanour couldn't lessen the sense of threat that came from him, wearing so much you couldn't make out even if he was still human.

“We have some things to trade!” Max said in his most assertive voice.

“Yeah, that’s how this works. What 'things'?”

Before Max could answer Mitch spoke.

“Nine pairs of boots, new, never put on.”

“What are you here for Mitch?”

“I'm the muscle”

“Don't say it out loud!” Max looked at Mitch with his face contorted in shock, it was the funniest thing Mitch had seen in months.

“Well... I guess that means I can't kill you and take your stuff now, ha ha ha.” As the wagon man laughed Max repeated the words over in his head, trying to work out what he was finding so funny and if the 'joke' was an actual threat.

“9 pairs yes or no?”

“You rushing me Mitch?”

The laughter was all gone.

“Yup'”

“Fine I'll take um'. I got a bunch of old clothes... some magazines and books.”

“Max, this is your deal. What do you think?”

“I-I want to see the goods first.”

“The two of you are welcome to head in back.”

Mitch walked over placing his hand on Max's back.

“You check the stuff I'll stay out here.”

Max walked sheepishly past the Wagon man, then hopped into the Wagon. The old man began to laugh again.

“Come on, Mitch. Threaten me like a damn thug.”

“Sorry, Dave but the kid has never dealt with you, best keep him on edge around new people.”

“The Apocalypse has made you paranoid.”

“Don't call it the Apocalypse, that's way too melodramatic.”

“What would you call it?”

“2017.”

5th October 2016

08:40 AM

Timothy had lay the toaster on its side and was now holding a fork, so desperate for his routine to be fulfilled that he was willing to risk it. Right as his arm was tensing to push the fork into between the filaments and the overly toasted bread his phone rang.

Too far to find and answer before going to message but it shook him out of his bread deprived desperation.

Standing the toaster upright he yanked its cord pulling plug out. Then went to see who called him.

Chapte-010010-1001001-100-01010010

00This is where it happens... a little tea shop,001 0010 0 010 nice weather outside, It's all so pleasant to be the end of mankind. 1010100010010

I 10really should h0101ave something to eat before they get here, no point being0101001 turned i100nto dust and t101ossed into a black hole while hungry.

“Hello!? I'd like to order now!”01

Chapter 3

Blackbird Can't Fly

5th October 2016

08:42 AM

Before Timothy could get to his phone it started to vibrate. Both the missed call and the message on Timothy's phone was from a new contact 'MT'.

The message when opened instantly downloaded a file to his 'apps' screen. Fearing a virus he quickly went through the process to delete the newly sprung software. It was impossible, this bag of bits had gotten its digitals all over the insides of his phone and he had no idea how to get rid of it.

Looking for clues he went and looked at the what this mystery app was. The logo was a diamond formation of circles, the top one dual colour with red on the left and green on the right, the two circles below it were fully coloured by the side they were on, red left and green right, the last circle on the bottom was empty.

The name of the app under this logo simply read 'Time Manipulator'.

22nd September 1990

09:11 PM

The phone box had been kicked in.

While marbles of glass lay in patterns on the ground that made it look like a wave in snapshot, bursting outwards reaching as far as possible.

“Do you still want to call?” Timothy wasn’t sure the phone would still work and he didn't want her to call home yet anyway.

“I have to.” She kicked one of the tiny shards that had tumbled astray, then crunched her shoes slowly and firmly onto the mounds of escaped glass, digging in until it had flattened enough to work as a foothold. In a few careful steps and one delicate swing of the phone booths door she was inside.

Finding out that Dy was moving to Germany hit Timothy far harder than he would have known how to handle. He had friends leave before and was sad about it, but this was stronger and he had no idea why.

He had convinced Dy to go for a walk with him, she kept thinking he had a destination in mind, the more she asked what it was the more he wished he had one, the light rain of when they started walking had matured into quite the storm and now with them at the limits of their knowledge of town Dy wanted a pick up.

From her heavy coat came a tiny black money purse and from that some coins and a crumpled up piece of note paper.

As the call was made Timothy stayed under the canopy of the large tree across from the phone booth, rather than protect from the rain it just led to the small drops consolidating and coming down as far fewer but much larger drops. It was a 11 drop call.

The call finished she retraced her glassy steps, even more careful due to her early compressed imprints making it even harder to walk on as the glass rolled more readily now.

“What's happin'?”

“My Mom is picking us up.” Dy came and stood shoulder to shoulder with Timothy.

“Are you in trouble?”

“Nah, I told her I was goin' out.”

“Sorry I didn't have anywhere to go.”

Over the street a blackbird was jumping from the road up to the pavement and back down, soaked with water and sending splashes out with every movement.

“It's OK, nothin' on telly anyway.”

“Are you really going to Germany?”

“You should ask your Mother to come over for holidays.”

The blackbird tried to use its wings and did nothing more than an embarrassing jump, it then hopped next to the lip of the pavement and looked around, as if waiting for a bus.

“Yeah... Are you going to go to school in Germany?”

“I have to I think.” After answering she squeezed his arm and with the other pointed down the road. The glaring lights of her mother's car's headlight shone through the dark.

The two climbed into the back, the seats covered with a makeshift plastic covering.

“Everyone all right?”

“Yes Mom”

“Yes Miss Cowden.”

5th October 2016

08:50 AM

Against his better judgement he pressed his finger down on the 'Time Manipulator' icon.

Chapter 8

As Yet Unrelated

2nd January 2017

22:11 PM

Bata had lost something, something small but important.

People think of Gods as perfect and capable of any feat, while Gods are far more powerful than your everyday accountant who lives in Kent they have limits and fault like everything else.

Right now the fault was one of a simple misplacement and poor timing, Bata needed to find who she lost and while she had picked the correct planet she had come nowhere close in regards to time.

The person she was looking for had lived the entirety of their life, died and had been forgotten thousands of years ago, but try explaining a concept as trivial as time to an immortal for whom a hundred thousand million years would be like any other hundred thousand million years.

Apart from the time thing she was very smart and so decided to give mankind a fair chance before acting on her fears. She then undertook the task of searching again, this time far closer and with a plan. Cataloguing people by nation, then landmass and when hopping from one small foothold of dirt to another checking those people on boats or swimming, and she carried out this plan for a couple of hundred years. Some unforeseen issues appeared when people she had checked off her list would turn up on the other side of the planet, but so long as they were still marked that didn't matter too much, then there were the constant births and deaths, this was a tricky problem but nothing compared to mass exoduses or when nations change name or boarders. She was almost finished 133 times before turning around and seeing a bunch of people in a different place than before. The whole task was irritating and this anger built and built up inside until finally when she had proven to herself the these people had killed her loved one, the rage overtook her, an eternity of looking at this ball of evil little people was something beyond even the power of a God, so she connected her anger with her power and decided to become an explosion that would punish the murderers.

22nd November 2024

10:24 AM

“Max go get that 5 pair of new boots we found.” Max nodded and ran off to get them, this task was one he had gotten good at.

“So... you just happened to come across yet another bunch of boots?” Even through the shaggy beard, sunglasses and hat his look of weariness was visible.

“I don't think a group of boots is called a bunch.”

“We could have made a deal for the lot.”

“I'm not saying I don't trust ya'.”

“But...”

Mitch just shrugged.

“Very nice Mitch... maybe from now on I won't let you buy anythin', let's see how trusting you are when you got nothin' to eat.”

“Fine, if you can convince the temporary Assembly that I did something worthy of being cut off from the Wagon service.”

“... Fine I won't blacklist you, I'll just make sure to give every settlement before this one good offers. Leave you with those cans that have been bulging out for the past three years. I still use one to stop the driver's seat from rattlin' so you can't have that one.”

“Petty old man.”

Max came jogging back carrying a tarp and rope made up as a makeshift backpack, he stopped in between the two old men, loosened the rope at the neck of the bad and showed the contents.

“They look nice and new as always... I have some prime quality stuff.” He turned walked into the Wagon and came out with his own makeshift bags. He threw them down.

“Max... go check each bag. Don't forget to look all the way through to the bottom of each.”

Mitch and Dave stared at each other as Max carefully untied the tops of the three bags and dove his hand in, shifting the contents just enough to see what they were.

“Looks like some pretty good stuff.”

“Fine, then pick them up and walk backwards towards me.”

Max did so keeping his eyes on Dave who shook his head. Getting alongside Mitch they both watched as Dave got in the Wagon and drove off.

“Dave seems really nice, I don't like having to act like I don't like him.”

“Pick a very few people and put all your trust in them, and only them. If they betray you then you'll want to be dead anyway. And I have my reasons to not trust Dave.”

“Whys that?”

“When the Wagon service started it was a one guy operation,and that guy wasn't Dave.”

2nd January 2017

22:11 AM

While searching Bata had remained invisible to the inhabitants of Earth, not even nudging a single blade of grass in her quest. Now the energy of her hatred was starting to overcome her she became visible, billions of people's last sight would be of the towering God standing each foot on a different continent, her be horned head barely viable out from the earth's atmosphere.

Most of Australia and China were destroyed merely by happening to be under her feet as she became manifest to their reality.

Most of those on Earth who survived the initial crush only did so long enough to watch the yellow bands of super heated rage emanate out from Bata's skin, each wave levelled cities, turned crops to ember and leaving no one they passed through alive. With one final scream of anger Bata shattered and exploded out in all directions removing the entire land masses below her feet, killing billions and even scarring the moon, a terrible deep yellow wound.

While no one went unaffected the damage done to the Americas and the westernmost European nations was light enough that some sort of civilization could be rebuilt within just a few months.

From well over 7 billion mankind was now down to a little under 2.1 billion. Australia and Asia were gone, while nothing of Bata's physical body remained the atmosphere had taken on a dark yellow hue and scientists quickly began to test what the cause of his was, while 'exploding God' was never written down in any of their studies they did find out the long effect 'The Yellow' would have.

It was in many ways like radiation, it was thickest where Bata's foot falls were, the further away the less effect it would have. In this concentrated form it could kill, but the diluted Yellow had still had its claws, prolonged exposure would lead to impotence, both male and female.

The 2.1 billion people left may very well be the last.

1st May 2027

10:01 PM

“This is as prototype as prototypes get.”

Milky handed Mitch a pre-fall smartphone, a small crack in metal of the back plate was the only indication that this thing must have seen some stuff.

“This is the thing?”

“Of course not... the thing is in there as a piece of software.”

“No way.”

“Yup, just go to 'Apps' then select the white box that says 'Displacement Scattering Bound Collapse VER. 1.03' below it.”

“Yeah I found it... it's next to Tetris.”

“Just remember to save the battery for saving mankind, no games.”

“Got ya', save the world then I can play some Tetris.”

Milky shook his head then went over to a table, picked up some hefty books and showed them to Mitch.

“Mitch, these are very advanced user guides to the Displacement Scattering Bound Collapse software.”

“The time manipulator thing?”

“Yes the Displacement Scattering Bound Collapse, anyway, with this you can make adjustment and maybe even improvements.”

“It would take me hundreds of years to learn all this stuff.”

“If the DSBC works then you'll have more then enough time.”

5th January 2015

08:33 AM

Timothy sat alone at his computer desk, two browsers open each with a mess of tabs open, all of them related to wedding rings. Until meeting Lisa he considered himself one of those people who never got married, that was one of those things only people on telly did, like never locking doors, buying things without checking the price or listening to jazz.

Going out with Lisa was always bittersweet for Timothy, on one hand Lisa was beautiful, smart a joy to be around on the other if she ever discovered how great she was dumping Timothy would be a no brainer.

After living together for years he finally got the sense that maybe she liked him. Even if she turned down the proposal and told him to leave at least the whole thing would be over with, like if a prisoner on death row was given an amazing life but knew at any moment the d-day was coming.

The right ring could be the deciding factor on her answer, this couldn't be some Argos tat that turned her finger green, this had to be the sort of thing an actress from Sex And The City would do adverts for.

Chapter 4

No Pop

9th January 2013

02:20 PM

When Timothy had pressed the 'Apply' button he had no idea what the job actually was, the call arranging the interview came so quickly after that it bamboozled him.

He wasted half an hour looking up the meaning of the colours of clothing just to make sure his tie wasn't saying anything about him he didn't want it to. In the end he went with the grey tie.

“Mr. Moorcroft will see you now.” The secretary's words went unnoticed as Timothy checked his tie one last time.

“Mr. Thompson?”

“Ahh... yes?”

She raised her hand palm facing him fingertips pointing towards a door.

“Oh, thank you... sorry 'bout that.” He was rushing and apologized as he stood from the sofa, a few steps later he was in front of an unassuming door. Knock! Knock!

“Come in.” Timothy couldn’t make out these words though the wood of the door but like a dog could decipher the tone, welcoming.

The room was bright, the entirety of the back wall housed a window, the blinds that were drawn down just changed the tone of the near-blinding light.

The room much like the door it was behind didn't give the impression of importance, two chairs in front of a modest desk, the man behind the desk however was not so ordinary.

An old man, a dense white beard masked most of his face and was in contrast to the completely bald scalp, deep chunks of wounded flesh it stripes across it. He was wearing large sunglasses, Timothy thought about asking to borrow them, surely the guy having to face the damn window should have the protection.

“Seat.” Timothy looked down, to his right, the seat looked cheap but comfortable, hard black plastic with bulging red cushions.

“Yup'.”

Moorcoft signed.

“Have a seat.” Timothy sat down as quickly as he could, this was now in his top ten most embarrassing seat related events.

“Mr. Timothy, your CV is,” there was a pause, just long enough for Timothy to think about saying something himself, then “not very furbished.”

“My last employment was as a direct sales agent.”

“Door to door guy?”

“Arrm... yeah, I did that for half a year.”

“Four months.”

“Almost half a year, the economic downturn really dried up commissions.”

“You left due to not being able to get commissions any more.”

“'Cus of the economic downturn.”

“Before that you worked in the warehouse for a florist?”

“Yup.”

“Why did you leave that position?”

“It was... that... It was nights and... my sleep patterns.”

“'Sleep patterns'?”

“Exactly.”

“My worry is, if I give you this job how long will you last.”

“All night.”

“Pardon?”

“Sorry, I mean as long as poss... I'll be here, you'll have to use a crowbar to get me out.”

“I don't want to use a crowbar to get you out.”

“Then you won't have to.”

They then sat in silence, Timothy trying to figure out what the hell he just said.

“You have the job.”

“Wha!?”

“Are you OK to get the induction formalities out the way?

you'll just need to sign some paperwork, confirm details and I'll have Lisa run you through some standard stuff.”

Timothy still hadn't quite registered the whole “have the job” stuff, his head was spinning and out of polite instinct he agreed, stuck out his hand and left the room.

9th January 2013

02:41 PM

With his head still spinning he moved from pristine white office space to pristine white office space.

“Hi I'm Lisa,” Timothy hated that name, the 'a' always seemed unnecessary “and I'll run you all... well just you. Are you really the only new starter.”

“Yup.” He was trying to act casual but he knew 'yup' was a little to relaxed.

“OK... that's fine, you and me can just get through this quicker,” She looked down at her notes “I'm here to help you all... don't worry about asking me for help, I don't bite.” She paused for laughter, Timothy realised too late and gave the best sympathy laugh he could on such short notice, she stopped moved the sheets with her script on down to her side, do you want me to continue with this or should I just come down and help you one on one?”

5th October 2016

08:51 AM

A panorama of red on red, swirls, ribbons, grains of swirling glowing specks caught in cylindrical patterns. Timothy felt no ground beneath him, and when he looked and to his horror he confirmed it. An infinite of red moving against red, none of it inviting to a foot. His phone!. He looked in both hands, nothing, then patted himself, even more nothing. A full blown panic was about to consume him until he saw it, his phone floating slowly not to far in front of him, while there was no ground, the air itself felt think, not to thick to breathe in but enough to grasp a little when he tried to move, mimicking a breast stroke was met with shockingly plentiful rewards, and only 22 seconds later he had 'swam' over and collected his phone.

If this wasn't a terrifying hellscape it would be quite nice.

The display of his phone had the same TM logo at the top but now with a icon of a mouth talking into an old fashioned microphone 'where to' written below it.

“To whoever made toasters... I guess.” He saw the words he had spoken pop up one after another as text on the screen, followed by 'State exact year'.

He minimized the time app and loaded up the history of inventions.

“Thanks free app of the day.”

Inventions > Home > Back > Inventions > Food > Cooking Equipment > Electric Toaster

“Alan MacMasters 1893!”

He scrolled through picking up the necessary information from the invention app, then copied it into the requisite fields in the Time Manipulator, pressed enter then watched in horror as the red world around him twisted tightly around him.

1st May 2027

9:59 PM

Mitch's feet reached out over and over hoping to find ground, he was consumed by panic then the toes of one of his boots caught some dirt, as soon as the connection was made gravity started acting upon him with a vengeance, as though scorned. He managed three full steps before tripping over onto his knees. All the hair flared out and tiny static shocks pricked his skin. The red that was enveloping him dissipated as though just a try of his eyes.

On the ground his body readjusted back to gravity, every breath filled his lungs filled with normal air.

“I should have just played Tetris.”

After getting some composure Mitch looked over and saw Milky's place, with some effort he was up and shambling towards the entrance.

“Yes the Displacement Scattering Bound Collapse, anyway, with this you can make adjustment and maybe even improvements.”

“That's the second time I've heard that and I still have no idea what any of it means.”

Milky and Mitch turned around in shock to look at Mitch, Mitch felt he needed to say something to make the situation less awkward.

“Hi!” Mitch felt the same as Mitch and replied as quickly as he could “Yeah, hi.”

“Hey Milky... doesn’t this mean I don't need to use the Time thingy?”

“Err... best be safe, still use it to make sure you,” he pointed at the sitting Mitch “become you.” He moved his point over to standing Mitch.

“Can't he just use the Time thing a second time and become himself again.”

Mitch had no idea why Mitch was trying to get out of using the Time thing he did “Mitch just do it.”

“Fine, but only because I trust you so much.”

“See ya' soon.”

“Bye”

Mitch pressed the button and to Mitch and Milky the whole room looked like it was exploding in perfect white light, then the light was gone along with Mitch. Milky looked over “Good riddance, that guys an arsehole”.

After Fall:

Milky

Before the fall Milky went by the name Peter Millen,  age of 23 he had already achieved his dream of getting into research and development, working on advance plane engines that even in the best case scenario would take decades to be adopted into common use. That was what he loved, being so far ahead of where the world was at the time, and being part of what it might become.

The day before the fall he had gone to Germany to see what to see first hand the facilities where the prototype engines would be constructed. At the very moment Bata materialized and began the fall he was jotting down notes on the costs of modernizing the entire factory. Seconds later none of it would matter.

His wife was still in England and four months pregnant, no matter how much he wanted to get back he quickly realized that with the full extent of the damage that travailing anywhere was now a risk, with the populous panicked there would be chaos for days until some form of governance could be patched together.

The length of the sea between him and his wife may as well be infinite until there was order in place, so rather than die in transit he would stay for as long as needed and make the factory as useful to that cause as possible.

After Fall:

Dave

Dave and Matthew were twins, born 8 minutes apart.

Matthew was the older and even though it was only a few minutes it was the basis of their entire lives.

Matthew was always the boss, always the decision maker, always the one to have the final say on things.

Dave was happy with this arrangement, he had never known anything else. The day of the fall he was in the middle of a week off from working at the mechanics shop his brother ran. He slept through the entire event and by the time he woke up the world he knew was dead never to return.

With all communication methods disrupted he felt no choice but to hunker down, protect his home from looters until they stopped coming. His family joined with the others of the local area to defend themselves. Months of holding off random attackers and helping travellers who needed shelter went by and then things started to settle down. When he began to feel that the peace was now set he decide to take his family down to his brothers shop.

4 days later by the time they arrived Matthew had already started to work with the scrap yard on setting up the Wagon service.

PART 2 below

Chapter 5

(Not) For The First Time

The red space dropped him on a mound just outside Edinburgh, after pulling himself up and sweeping his grass covered trousers down he went along the pavement. Having lived all his life in British towns and cities this placed didn't seem very much different, one hundred and twenty-three years suddenly didn't seem like that much, he went from being in an old city into a city that was in a truer sense more new.

He needed to focus, his electric toaster was broken and if anyone could help it would be the inventor of it.

Still he thought he might as well enjoy being here, he might never be in the 1890's again.

He was being dragged through the streets by the scent of baking bread, turning corners, going up and down hill and making U-turns when we went a direction that caused the scent to lessen. It was getting salivatingly strong when an old booze hound approached him. The man must have been in his late fifties, fat and with a bulbous red nose he looked more comic strip than man, singing a song that Timothy had never heard before and couldn't understand now.

Before Timothy could work out what was happening a large power full arm was around the back of his neck pushing him gleefully towards a pub. He wanted to speak up but explaining that he was hungry not thirsty probably wouldn’t have won the argument with his newly imposed friend.

One drink after another his grasp on time became more bent and distorted, until he was living in a fuzzy, stumbly nether world of slanted floors and slippery surfaces.

This was the most social Timothy had ever been and it felt great, every person in the pub became and friend, no matter if they only popped their heads in just to look around. One of these late comers who forwent diving into the casks face first just so happened to be Alan MacMasters, though it would take Timothy many rambling minutes of pleasantries and diatribes before realizing, the very moment the information hit him he forced his back straight and did his best 'not drunk' impression, holding it all up and together just long enough to beg Alan to come back and fix the now non-functional pop on his toaster.

Alan MacMasters had only come to retrieve a friendly debt that was owed to him and now was faced with either travailing a hundred years in the future and pretending like he knew how to make toast 'pop' or explain to a very intoxicated man the fact that his toaster was created to simply toast with electricity and had to popping function of any sort. He already had a full day planned so settled for the latter and spoke Timothy through his version of the toaster very slowly.

Eventually Timothy came round to understand the severity of his mistake but in rushing to fix it ended up making a mistake much bigger. Wanting to leave the now very awkward situation he grabbed his phone he told it to just take him back to the invention of toast, and the application did as he had asked and he was sent straight to ancient Egypt.

Chapter 6

Two For One

5th April 2000

06:12 PM

The first few years in Germany were tricky for Mitch, he just couldn’t take to the language. His father, Dy and her mother seemed to picked up enough for general conversations within a handful of months, at the time he hated this situation but now looking back it was something of a godsend.

He was forced to rely on those he knew who were bilingual, but being at that age where being around adults was a punishment this meant that Dy was his main go to for translations. She was happy to help and the two spent so much time together that neither of them realized that their friendship has turned into something more.

He wanted to make it official, to ask her out on a proper date. He wasn't going to hide it as a 'get together' he wasn't going to act like 'a bunch of us are getting together' no, this was a real date and he was going to let her know it.

DATE UNKOWN

XX:XX AM/PM

Timothy was spat out into the center of a quickly dissipating sandstorm, gritty annoying little specks clumping in his hair, eyes, mouth and shoes. Sitting in a mound of the soft warm sand he swept and picked as much of it off himself as he could. He had gone from the slickly moist overcast air of Scotland to the arid, scratchy and near unbreathable heat of the Egyptian climate.

The shock of the heat led to him becoming breathless and lightheaded, after a minute he had gained bearings enough to take a full mouthful of air “Bloody hell!”.

5th October 1984

01:33 AM

He made his way unseen into the hospital, then up to maternity ward. There was no one around to stop him just has he had planned as he entered, looked over the sleeping babies and found the one he was needed, Michael Thompson.

11th January 2013

02:41 PM

Timothy had no idea where to take Lisa on their first date, he was shocked he even had the guts to asks her so when she said 'yes' it was truly amazing, what could the night possibly be that wouldn't mess everything up. The answer came to him by complete and unsolicited luck, apparently there had been a raffle at work and even though he was new there and had not signed up he was the winner. The prize itself wasn't just a ham or shoe polish machine, instead was tickets for dinner for two at an expensive restaurant and a show.

This unimaginable run of good luck did not ease the the strain of the remaining choices he had to make, what to wear, how to have his hair, after shave or not he stewed for hours about the most trivial accoutrements.

7th April 2000

05:26 PM

Asking Dy out had gone better than Mitch had thought it would, better and much faster, going out sometime this month was his original plan when she offered “This time in two days” he could only accept. Wanting to keep the whole thing secret lasted as long as needing to borrow some money from his dad. Now he just needed to remember where the nearest chip shop to the cinema was.

Looking up the films it wasn't hard to whittle it down to a short list, removing those that where children's films and those they were not old enough to go see, sneaking her into one of the latter may win him cool points but if he fumbled it and got them kicked out he would get so many negative cool points that it would take a decade just to break even.

Erin Brockovich looked to fit the bill, a famous woman was the star, that must say something about how date useful it was.

Before setting out he made sure to borrow one last thing from his dad, this one he wouldn’t ask for, from his father's bedside table's draw he removed one of the loose condoms.

11th January 2013

07:11 PM

Dinner had gone well, the show while not to his liking at all was enjoyed by Lisa and now he was in her apartment, on her bed waiting for her to return. She had gone to talk to her flatmate and this more than anything else let him be confident that she wanted to have sex with him. This was the most dangerous place to be for a naturally nervous person to be, suddenly he felt the need to press his ear against the door to decipher as much of her words as possible, but thoughts of her opening the door to see him in such a patently desperate pose was enough to keep him sitting. It worked this was in perfect balance until she returned, every neurosis brought to mind an action, then he would figure out how that would end badly thus bringing on an even greater neurosis.

“Sorry to leave you waiting” She slipped in closing the door with the same effortlessly elegant movement with which she did.

“No proBlem!” He hadn't talked in so long that his words came out like a speak and spell being tossed into the sea.

“Are you OK?” The seductive tone was replaced with a motherly, caring one.

“Just need some water” One of the few times in his life where he keeps his head and it ends up being his throat that messes it all up.

She left for his water, taking the opportunity he dug his face into the palms of his hands. Just when he had completely submerged she popped her head back in.

“Relax, it's only sex.”

5th October 1984

01:39 AM

Gently raising the thirty-seven minute old into nook of his right arm he used his left to retrieve the phone out of his pocket, thumbing around until it was ready. Tapping the required information '5th / October / 1984 / 01:35 AM', before confirming he walked outside from where the newborns were and into an empty hallway then planted his thumb and the light enveloped both he and the baby, when the light had faded they were already back in the past.

He arrived almost exactly where he had come from spatially but four minutes previous, suddenly a deep wrenching feeling came from his gut he felt an urge to double over and clench his midriff as if to keep his intestines and other offal from sliding out, he was working on razor sharp timing so the most he allowed himself was to press two fingers into his stomach to make sure it was just sensation, it was and he needed to move.

Re-entering where the baby Michael was he acted quickly moving over the other babies so that there was an empty crib next to his past self, then placed the slightly older baby Michael down into it. After a few simple adjustments to charts and documents his plan was all but complete. Only after the paperwork was complete did one of the babies wake and start screaming.

Even with so little time he knew it was worth a second to soothe the rightfully unsettled newborn “shh, sleep well little brother. Little Tim... you have a lot ahead of you.”

On his way out he heard the creak of a door opening, he knew this sound from a few minutes earlier, wrapped in pain he got to the end of the corridor peeking back.

watching as his past self entered, exits adjusted his woolly hat and flashed out. He was about to look away before remembering he was wearing sunglasses.

The app on his phone now read 'unable to connect' as it always did whenever it was around a travel. He would need to move far enough away that the scattered magnons wouldn’t affect it any more.

Making his way back down retracing his steps with one hand holding his stomach and the other holding the phone in front of him, all the way to the front, still no luck.

“Hay! Stop! Who are you?” it was a nurse standing in front of the doorway. The nurse looked better suited for the army and Mitch wasn't confident he could get through quickly.

“I was... visiting a patient, my aunty.”

“Name?”

“My name or my aunt's?”

“Yours, we've been told someone snuck in upstairs.”

His plan was thought out well, except for not accounting on the attention one of him flashing out was bound to have.

“My name is...”

He could see in the nurse's eyes nothing he said was going to be believable. He reached up grabbed the hat off his head, then with the same hand his sunglasses the nurse stepped back in shock.

'Ready' the app beeped, he moved his thumb over the confirmation button, then stopped.

“My name. Is MT.” He tossed the sunglasses over to the nurse. “Wear these.” following commands in shock he did so, the second the nurse had moves his hands away from his face MT pushed to confirm.

As the red spun and danced around him thoughts of the stumbling, bamboozles nurse made him smile.

Chapter 7

Michael

The lights and TV went out leaving Michael in darkness, inconvenient but blackouts happen, it was when he pulled out his phone to use its screen as an impromptu torch that he realized something bigger was happening. Every piece of electronics was dead even though to his observations they looked untouched.

It was when he walked out of his front door that at least part of the immense scale of things became apparent. The night was not its normal orange, with all the street lights dormant the night had regained it the darkness that people used to talk about, the only lights he saw were from the older neighbors who made sure to have candles and matches close by and from fires, some very far in the distance but some much closer.

“Oh f**k.”

He had no reason to think then that Dy had been in a crash, but he knew she had, a human perception based on knowing you've been too lucky for too long. His needed to do something, so he quickly dressed for the cold, tossed some of the more useful looking items from their medical draw into a plastic bag, locked up and made his way to the closest fire.

Mitch

Now that Milky's time thing worked it was time stop the yellow from ever starting. Milky wanted to run years more of tests and run him through 'time travel etiquette' but that was not stupid, Mitch didn't care about his safety, and he watched enough time travel films to know changing things was a big no-no, which would have made the whole thing sort of pointless.

He wasn't going to run his plan past Milky, he knew the place and he knew the date “2nd January 2017”.

He arrived to silence, a normal day and a normal sky. The app was counting down to when he could make another jump when it happened. The whole atmosphere pushed and pulled it happened so quickly and with so much force that his feet were off the ground for over 34 seconds, and when he did land it was face first, uprooted trees and torn up buildings scattered would have been a focal point if it weren't for the impossibly tall woman standing in front of him. He had heard from some survivors about the woman with horns but had always put it down to the yellow madness or grief.

He needed time to rethink the first part of his plan, so before the blast hit him he tapped in a date a few days prior, there was a hideous bellowing crackling through the atmosphere, he pressed enter and was gone.

Mitch

He had never wanted to be a farmer, the notion had never occupied a single link in his brain but with having to be their for Dy when ever she needed him it now was the dream job.

The head would tell him what to do and he would, with Dy there will him not cramped up or alone. He and Dy were put in charge of the dairy cows. It was more complicated than he had originally envisioned, generations of selective breeding had led to the cows with needing to be milked or risk health problems, this was no problem with mechanized procedures but manually milking so many cows so regularly was a time consuming task.

Mitch

He had used the few days given to him by the last jump to make the arrangements necessary, the horned woman was real, an amazing fact to know but not one that completed the puzzle, it constituted the who, why and how were now were left. With little over half an hour on the countdown he started his flight. He had paid for a simple flying tour but knew the pilot was going to be the one to see the real sights.

One minute to go, he was miles away from where his past self was even so he couldn't resist having a look, just in case, nothing.

“Pilot! There is going to be severe turbulence in a few seconds.”

“Blue skies!”

“Trust me, get ready.” He stopped talked made sure his tongue was tight against the bottom of his mouth away from his teeth then braced the rest of himself. The shock came spun the little plane what felt like a full rotation then back again, his eyes closed shut all he could hear was wind rushing over them and the pilot heaving, rippling and twisting all manner of the plane's internal workings. With a sputter it regained some functionality.

“We are landing!”

“No were not! Look to your left, that... thing is about to destroy most of the planet.”

“You think you can stop that!”

“Yes... maybe!”

“How!”

“Just fly closer, as high as possible!” They were getting closer but time was running thin.

“You said this thing can run with the top off!”

“In a worst case scenario!”

“It's the end of the world, get it off!” Along with the plane's canopy went its top speed, they were now gently gliding towards the towering doom maker. Mitch unbuckled and stood holding tight to the inside.

“Hey! Lady!”

“Be more polite!”

“Hey! I want to talk!”

He watched as the unimaginable size started its lumbering lean, the face parting the upper atmosphere and causing another wake in this one much less destructive.

“Come on! Why did you do this! Why kill billions!”

All that was above him was her face, casting a darkness across the world even he had never witnessed the like of.

“You are killers.” Despite her rage she spoke only in whispers, even so the air exploded with every syllable.

“We...” He had spent so long planning the timings and the route that he gave no thought to the words.

“Humans can kill.. but we are not just that, we love, we grow, help... we...”

“You killed Habibah.”

“Just one person!?”

“My daughter!” The whisper was gone, these words carried hatred as energy, the plane was washed in a thick yellow. The pain as it touched skin made the pilot lost control, Mitch flung himself into his seat pushing his feet tight against confines wedging himself in.

“We have to get away!”

“There is no 'away' she destroys continents!” Mitch went to wipe his brow of sweat only to look at his palm to see it covered in blood.

“Pilot we stay! She has far more to tell us!”

4 minutes 42 seconds later, and as she had done Bata exploded, changing the world forever. But Mitch was able to jump out just before, and knowing far more about the Yellow he set forth a plan more complicated than any other in human history.

Timothy

He was still hungry, he hadn't had breakfast in over two thousand years by this point he was lucky enough to come across some cloth that he could fashion some more protective garments out of, still the heat caused a constant pain.

'Is that a mirage?' He could smell freshly roasting toast, it was glorious, then a second thought occurred to him, is there such a thing as a scent mirage?

He followed the smell as well as he could and ended up in front of a large rock, some flat bread pulled over its surface.

On toast instinct he picked up the gently warm misshapen flap of food and took as big of a bite as the sides of his mouth would allow, it was only seconds after enjoying a bite that somebody did the same, this one however was to the back of his knee.

“Ahhh!” the pain was almost enough to make him drop the rest of the beady goodness. Almost. On turning around he saw a little girl, her face sporting the angriest look he had ever seen on someone so insolent looking. Behind her were two adults who held her back and tried to calm her down, they each took turns caring for child and then shouting at Timothy. It goes without saying he understood not a word.

“I'm sorry! Is this hers?” Trying to show he wasn't a thief he put the rest of the toast back and patted the girl on the head.

“Hey there, you know you should be put on a leash...” she angled her head up and chopped his hand across three fingers “ahhh!”

He was kneading the now very sore part of his hand, then they said something he did understand.

“Leash-a” They were repeating it over and over in quite a soft tone of voice, they picked up the young girl and started chanting the name.

“Oh s**t... no.” He dropped to the floor, his head spinning so fast it took him a while to realise he wasn't on his feet any more.

“I'm the one... I'm the one who gave my fiancée a s**t name.”

After the initial shock wore off he was in a conundrum, if this was Liz then if he left her here then she would be long dead by the time they met each other, so she has to be brought forward otherwise he would never get to be with her when she grows up.

He racked his brain trying to recall every slither of information he ever heard about Liz's youth. He needed to get back to the present and drop her off along the way.

“How old!” He pointed to Leash-a, her parents didn't understand.

He pointed to himself then chopped the air once for ever year of his life.

The woman took a step closer, looked at Leash-a then chopped the air once and went to again but stopped halfway down the course the first strike took.

“Damn you're smart, so she is one and a half.” being no good at mental arithmetic he took out his phone and worked out roughly when she should be taken to. Then he stopped looked at the parents.

“Free app of the day!” quickly scrolling through the saved applications he came across a translation kit. Going in he looked up the word hello in every dialect and said them all out loud in order until one clicked. It took a while but he got one, then the slow process of typing in what he wanted to say and hoping the translation was accurate. The sun that had been such a torment before was now lowering out of view, the heat being overtaken by a gentle coolness.

It took along time but the parents didn't seem as confused as he thought they should be, a man from the future asking to take your daughter forward in time so she could grow up to be his wife is not a everyday thing.

They held Leash-a, hugged her talked to her eventually she seemed to calm down, they all walked over to him. One last time he used the translator.

“Why?”

The father moved his hands either side of his head, palms pressed above his ears and fingers pointing straight up, then moved his hands into a ball next to his wife's midriff then opened his hands in a gesture towards Leash-a finally he pointed to Timothy.

“Ba.” He didn't understand the actual meaning of any of it, but the faces at least told him it was something serious and he should be thankful. So he bowed, put his hand on Leash-a's shoulder and pressed the confirmation button on the app.

Chapter 8

The Horns

2nd January 2017

22:11 PM

Bata had lost something, something small but important.

People think of Gods as perfect and capable of any feat, while Gods are far more powerful than your everyday accountant who lives in Kent they have limits and faults like everything else.

Right now the fault was one of a simple misplacement and poor timing, Bata needed to find who she lost was in linear time placed just a few decades earlier missing Bata's attention due to being placed out of time and on a small island that had already been checked.

Luckily at this point she was still wiser than furious and so started on one last search, if Habibah still alluded her gaze after this last chance then mankind was done for, she would unleash her full rage upon their murderous selves.

After only a decade or two into this face by face search when she heard her name, a man was calling her by name and with detail.

She flew over to him in minutes, this was a man Bata had never seen in all her searches, his deep scars on a pale scalp and soulless eyes set into rings of darkened skin.

"Bata, I have an invitation for you."

Chapter 9

All For This

10th July 2016

With the finals of the Euro 2016 tournament just hours away Timothy and Michael where staying true to the pattern of only liking Football in two year increments.

Portugal V Sweden was hardly what they would have wanted the last match to end up being but they already invested time in watching five of the matches leading up it so if they missed the final all that time would retroactively be wasted.

So a trip to the local shop to buy as many unhealthy food items as one thin plastic bag could carry the small way home without tearing open.

Crisps, dip for the crisps, small sausages also for the crisps' dip, chocolate cakes based on popular chocolate bars, some chocolate bars that those cakes where based off of, a bag o' bonbons, frozen burgers, burger baps and a fancy new tasting source to pour over anything that conceivably could have something poured on it and still pass as edible and to cap it off a two liter bottle of his favorite diet cola.

The only difference between the two individuals bags where the logos on some of the semi-food and the end price of said bags. As though bad eating habits came at a genetic level.

8:01

Liz was still asleep, so Timothy sat watching the infinite amount of fluff about the tournament that clogged BBC One. Turning to check for her coming out with each and every noise, only to be met with disappointment.

He made the executive decision that he was going to orchestrate her waking up early, even on one of her few days off, he did this on the pretense that rather than fight through the newly acquired mountain of food stuffs alone he wanted her someone to share it with, in actuality he was simply lonely.

He looked around at all the things in the flat that made noise as a consequence of their function or due to that being their only purpose, he found one of the latter that when mixed with a wholly silent tool, those being a fire alarm and a TV remote with batteries in it that are near death.

Taking down the fire alarm and swapping out the heavy energy filled battiest for the empty carcasses of the old ones was easy, as soon as the thing started blaring in his hands the job of returning it to the ceiling and legging it through the front door was far harder.

He waited in the hallway outside of the door listening for when the oscillating screeching subsided and when silence returned he counted to twenty and returned, overjoyed to see a messy haired and put out looking Liz slumped over one half of the sofa.

9:01

Dy was out having a morning breakfast with her friends, a trade off where she spent time with them in the morning and then spent the rest of the day locked in a small apartment with Michael watching all the Football stuff they can, even the terrible fluff they put on before the match to fill time.

He lost interest in the pile of pre-match pattern almost as soon as it started and spent most of the time staring out the window waiting for Dy to get back, fearing she might stop off at one of the rowdy bars along the way and spending the whole match there.

Rather then just wait for her to get back he decided to do something constitutive with his time, and so lined up the food he had just bought along with the necessary receptacles, bowls, plates, glasses all in pairs.

After arraigning all of it neatly he went back to the window.

Kick-Off

The game was now under way and still they were sitting alone, Michael next to the window and Timothy sitting next to Liz who was not as good company as she would normally be due to her being a sleep.

Michael

There was less foot traffic then he had ever seen for this time of day, the streets so empty that if Dy did come back she would look like a survivor in a film about the apocalypse, or at the very least a TV series about the apocalypse.

Timothy

He turned the volume up on the television until he could feel the force of it's sound press into his ears, still she slept, the most reaction was her scrunching her legs up making herself into an even tighter and cuter ball.

Sweden scored from a free kick and the audible wave of half excitement and half disappointment finally roused Liz.

"Morning, you gonna' watch the final with me?"

"Maybe after a coffee."

"Here you go." He handed over the mug of coffee.

"This is cold."

"You should have woke up an hour ago, then."

They sat and watched the whole game like this, neither one really liking football but it was just nice to spend a little time together.

Michael

Portugal scored an equalizer and as Michael moved to fully commit to watching the replay Dy started back down their street, carrier bags filled with low quality snack foods for the final that she had been excited to watch for ages, but she had to go spend some time with her female friends so they would leave her alone to watch it with Michelle by themselves, listening to the game on the radio had made her pick up the pace but stopping off at the shops was always going to mean she missed the start.

Michael returned to the window as she entered the apartment building's front, missing her by seconds.

Their front door then rattled, opened and Dy squeezed in with her horde.

"You got it on?"

"Yep, the HD channel and everything."

They sat and watched the whole game like this, Dy loving every second of football but Michael just enjoying being around her.

Epilogue

Tea With A God

Loop The Loop

5th October 2016

08:33 AM

8 hours, 15 minutes and 22 seconds were not enough for Timothy Thompson and so he stumbled towards the kitchen clumsily knocking himself against walls and door frames. Making it to the kitchen was the easy part now he had to, in his semi-sleep state, navigate the complexities of the under-the-lip-of-the-rim catch to open the bread bin, then the fiddly little yellow sticky strip around the twisted end of the breads plastic sheathing. He slinked the slices into their individual slots then thumbed down starting the toasting process.

Then the cola, one glass placed but before he could poor the phone rang, the glass tracked, a single thin line of separation running along its length, in his half asleep state he was unable to think of what to do about this so he simply left the glass on the table and picked up the phone, on the other end of the line was a voice he had only heard once before, but it stayed with him all these years, it was his boss and he had a request.

"I have these days off, you can't ask me to come in."

"...a Tea shop!?"

Finding The Tea Shop

It had taken over an hour to get to the tea shop, not only due to it being in the other half of the city but also the fact that rather than a nice, prime restatement, easy to find chain the tea shop he was sent to was some privately ran operation.

The correct path took him down some sketchy back alleys and though more than one supermarket's car park.

Having to stop and ask everyone he passed as to the next turn to take. Then finally his trek was over and it was in view, towards the peak of an absurdly steep road, it was part of one long streak of building, either side the brickwork was born but the tea shop had white paint to differentiate itself, it was a good job it did since its signage was very meek and hard to see, a plaque of tiny text too far above the entrance to be legible.

Timothy turned the handle and walked in, nothing, there were tables, doilies, potted plants, china figurines on shelves and the like but there was no boss, either his or this places, so he sat and waited.

Decoder

This is where it happens... a little tea shop, with nice weather outside, It's all so pleasant to be the end of mankind.

I really should have something to eat before they get here, no point being turned into dust and tossed into a black hole while hungry.

“Hello!? I'd like to order now!”

I wanted to order twenty-five minutes ago.

“Yeah... I'll have a... cake and tea.”

“What type.”

“Anything with strawberry jam in it.”

“I know just the one, I'll bring your tea pot over while you wait.”

So, I have to make my own tea, I could have done that at home.

Note To Selves

The note was written on the company's official stationary, but was not the normal printed off mass mail, this was handwritten, blue ink, the handwriting was messy and uneven but Timothy had no issue reading it. It had come exactly 10 seconds after he took a phone call telling him about having to come to the tea shop, the call came from a voice he had never heard before and was sparse on detail, the note on the other hand wore its heritage on the front and explained things much more, the twice folded sheets of paper with 'From Moorcroft To Timothy' adorning the front.

While this all was unusual the words on the inside of the folds where where things got really out of tradition.

"I am requesting that you make your way to a tea shop, there is a separate page with the details, by going there and talking to the other person I am sending your employ with me will be at an end, this has been a plan in the works for longer than you could ever imagine. The person you will meet is important, she is not to angered, all you must do is answer her questions truthfully, failure on your part will mean the extinction of all life on Earth.

That is the stick, the carrot is that if tomorrow comes you and Lisa will be given all rights to my company, and its holdings.

All these years comes down to this, the plan is love.

PS Try their Strawberry jam, it's great."

He should have been able to laugh and crumble the note into a ball, casually toss it into the waste but he couldn't, it was all too stupid not to be real.

After staring at the pages one last time he refolded them and pocketed them, with the fear of the planet coming to an it was impossible to enjoy his cup of tea, but the sponge cake was absolutely great.

God In Law

He was five sevenths of the way down the third of his DIY teas when the light coming in through the window changed, within a snap it had gone from a strong sun to deep churning clouds of greys and blacks.

Timothy considered pulling out the note once again to see if any of this would give give a clearer context to any of the words but before he could the tiny bell above the front door rang.

In came a woman, silks in black, white and gold draped over a tall, slim build and of course to dangerously sharp looking horns sticking out from the sides of her head.

In complete shock of all the things he had just seen in the last 26 seconds Timothy had no option but to rely on his British instincts.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

The horned lady ignored the offer and sat across from him, he poured a cup anyway and taking a glance at the horns decided against adding milk.

"The Split-Soul told to me of you, and that I could find my daughter via this meeting." The voice was calm, almost relaxing but under the gentle syllables you could hear a sea of power.

"I think I'd have remembered seeing hers."

"Then his is a ruse, and either you or the Split-Soul are deceiving me."

"It's not me! I would never lie to you, just that... You are the first person I've seen with horns on."

"Habibah is without such adornments, she is as human, as to live with you mortals." Up until this point Timothy had no idea who or what her was talking to, but hearing 'mortals' described as a separate group then she belonged to got him up to speed pretty quickly.

"Are you a god?"

"I am, now where is my daughter."

"Do you really think I wouldn't just tell you if I knew?"

She glanced at him in silence, this seemed to go on for hours in his mind he went over all the things she could possibly be thinking about him and to do to him. After this she raised one hand, he jolted back in the seat, ready to jump out the window if needs be. Before he could even stand from the table all the elements that had been placed on the tea tray floated up, the sugar, milk and other sweaters swirled into a vortex and the metal was crumbled violently and joined the rotating mass, then it was done a face of a young girl, just like another.

"I'm sorry, I've never seen this girl."

She lowed her hand and along with the construct the table top became a mess and the calmness in her voice started to thin.

"I gave her to this world! A gift, a test and you all failed it, I gave the Split-Soul a chance and it was yet another betrayal from you mortals."

Bata stood from the table, tiny yellow beads of light rising from her skin, small but enough to saturate the room in it's tone.

"You can't kill us all! Even if something did happen to Habah then why punish us all!?"

"I gave my only child to Egypt, as they do so reflects on you all!"

"Egyptian!... your Liz's mum!?"

"Lizes"

"Liz, she's my... partner... lover, and the only person I know who is any part Egyptian."

Name Games

"Liz?"

"Only I call her that, everyone else uses Lisa."

"Leasher?"

"I don't like that name either, so I use Liz."

"Show me my child, or I will cleanse the Earth"

"I was always told meeting the in laws was nerve racking."

He burst out in nervous laughter.

"Lisa?"

"Yup, that's her... Earth name."

The old lady who operated the tea shop shuffled towards their table, she had a rhythmic sway when walking, a technique to move while getting around her many ailments.

"Not you are both here would you like another order."

"Can you bring me my daughter?" A demand hidden within inquest.

"No, I was talking more tea maybe another cake slice."

He had to jump in, the world shouldn't come to an end because a sweet old lady couldn't tell that a glowing woman with horns might have more on her mind then refreshments.

"Please bring us another pot and two slices of the same cake, please." He spoke so frantically that he almost syllabled the end of his tongue off. The old lady didn't rise of the same energy level, as she slowly brought out of her pocket a notebook  then wrote the order down, letter by pencil marked letter Timothy watched in horror. When they were back alone he tried to lighten the mood.

"The tea here really is quite nice, when the lady gets back you should have a cup."

She looked down at his cup then back at him, no emotion no sign of giving him anything to work with.

"My daughter, how did you meet her?"

"We first met at work, she should me around on my induction."

This wasn't true, luckily Bata could not sense it as a lie since he thought he was telling the truth, the reality was that Lisa and Timothy had met exactly 203 times before the ninth of January of 2013.

Standing around outside nightclubs as part of different groups, sitting parallel on a bus ride, side stepping one another on the way through a door, any of these could have been the important one.

"Yeah, Lisa is really nice, I like her A lot..." He caught himself "no, no like, I love her."

"Your feelings do not matter in this."

"Of course they do, that's all that matters."

They might have gone into that nightclub, lost track of their friends and ended up talking at the bar, the bus could have had a tire blow out and the two would stick up a conversation about how 'crazy it was', they could have each side-stepped in the same relative direction and literally collided, then flustered panic and anger might have subsided to apologies and then that into mutual interest.

For others this would be fate, for Timothy and Lisa it was preordained, each almost meet-cute the failed end of weeks of planning, all by one man and all for one goal.

MT knew the only thing that would temper the anger of a god such as Bata would be love, pure, shared love, so long as their was that there would be a mankind.

He also knew he loved Dy, and no one could ever replace her for him, and so he did the only thing he thought he could, split himself.

He took his infant self back in-time, splitting himself and giving him what he needed to carry out his plan, a man to love the daughter of a god, Timothy simple, unambitious but fundamentally good.

He took the sacrifice on himself, in some way he was going to be with Dy but in reality the rest of his life would be seeing the plan to completion in near isolation.

He knew no gun could hurt Bata, no show of force intimidate but if she could knew Habibah was loved, then maybe there would be a future worth living for others.

A Friday

"So not a Chinese, how about Italian?"

"Pasta?"

"Or Pizza."

She shook her head.

"Indian?"

She crooked her eye brow.

"Don't do that, I don't think every one with dark skin is Indian. I just like curry, but if it isn't rude... where do you come from?"

"Burnley."

"Ah, what I meant was your heritage."

"I never knew them, but my foster family had been told I was born in Egypt."

"Have you... forget it."

"What? ask it."

"I was going to make a stupid gag about if you've ever seen a mummy."

"I haven't even seen my own."

Timothy's blood burned like acid due to the embarrassment, he normally liked puns but this accidental one made him look like a bellend.

"Sorry, I was didn't even think... how about I cook us something at mine"

"So English."

"Not really, most of what I can cook is stuff put in boiling water or tossed into an oven for half an hour, and I think all that's left would be some rice and tomato sauce."

"A Chinese-Italian blend is the best offer yet."

"Bring me my Daughter!"

"I can't, she's all the way over in Scotland."

"Before coming here I had observed every face of every human, on land, on water, in water, hurtling through the clouds and some even beyond the wall of the world, there is no place on this marble too far."

"I did sort of over sell it, its only a couple of hours on train."

Bata stood, the glow of her skin grew in coverage and intensity, until none of the wrinkles or blemishes of skin where visible under the yellow tinted energy.

"Stop! You can't just jump into her life like this!"

"No more words!"

"Yes more words, Liz thinks she is a human, you can't tell her otherwise even if you are her mum." On hearing this something in Bata changed, he could sense it but had no idea what it meant, still in her full brightness setting she sat back down.

"I will see Habibah."

"Of course, but could at least be a little less 'all powerful' when you do."

"Explain."

He looked around, nothing, he stood to give himself a better vantage point then ran to the entrance to the back of the shop.

There he saw the old sitting on a step ladder, glassy eyed and scared.

"Hello... Hey! I need a magazine or something." Most of the old lady didn't react at all, the only part that did was her hand, that pointed towards a shelf under the till, one good grab had collected the five fashion mags, and with a flick of the wrist they were strewn across the table top between Bata and himself.

"Just give us a sec'."

Image after image came and went with a nod of the head or a tut until one page made him stop, and then spin the mag around on the table.

The page showed a middle aged woman, dark skin, long greying hair and clothes that where a mix of business attire and flowing robes.

It looked effortlessly normal and yet impossibly elegant.

"Can you make yourself look a little like this lady?"

She gave no response and thanks to her begin covered in glowing energy he couldn't even tell where she was looking.

"I you make yourself look more like this, then I'll take you right to Liz, you will see your daughter."

"Hey... can we talk?"

Outside the thick dank cloud cover made it seem like night, even though it had just past noon.

"Tim! You came all the way here?"

The pale grey light that made its way though would normally seem dull but in this empty office floor it was dominant, exploding in through the windows.

"So, who is this guy?"

Across sea of dark blue carpet lay Liz and some other tall people in suits, as Timothy walked up he kept thinking how he dressed the same as when he was in highschool.

"He's my boyfriend."

With every single syllable exchanged between the suits clad Timothy felt younger and younger, less man more baby.

"Lisa we still have work to do."

Bata had zapped them both from the tea shop to Scotland, only now did he remember that he only had fifteen pounds left after all the tea and cakes, unless he could take the God-express back he was going to have to lend off of Liz.

"This place will still be empty in five minutes."

The tallest and whitest of them all looked at a watch that must have cost more than two months rent then conceded in the most power saving way possible.

"Ten minute break for everyone, call in reports, have a smoke, then back to the job."

The boss and the rest trotted off as Liz and Timothy walked over to windows, when either one got too nervous they would look out over the city, in grey scale and wet with rain too fine to see, beautiful streets rain slick and cold.

"It's nice to see you, but Tim I am still at work."

"You want me to get to the point?"

"I know you aren’t the best at that."

Now it was a contest, for the first time in years he was in a competition he wanted to win.

"I have met someone you really need to meet, but I want to ask you something first."

"Good job, a little vague though."

He dug his fist deep into his side pocket, then handed the retrieval over to Liz, who opened it on instinct. Revealing a felt box and flipping it open without taking a single second to think about it.

"I was hoping for a moment to talk before you opened it."

"Marriage!?"

"That's up to you."

"Can I have a minute?"

"We must have at least six left."

"You could have held on till I got back."

She kept her gaze solely on the ring, smooth, featureless and so shiny she could see herself in it.

"I've been holding on to it for a very long while."

"An engagement ring!"

"No, it's a proper wedding ring."

"I... don't -"

"You don't love me!?"

"Not that... I... "

"With you, I could be a father, raise a kid, make a home build a proper life with you."

She clapped her hand closing the box with a sharp snap.

"Please let me think about it Tim."

All these years he had only considered the elation of "yes" and the devastation of "no", he didn't even know what emotion to place on "let me think about it" now with his head spinning from the emotional limbo he had to struggle through, uphold his end of the bargain with Bata and unknowingly fulfill the role he was created for.

"I know I have just handed a lot to you to think over, but there is a little something more. Ermmm, OK this one is bigger."

Cupping his hands over his mouth he turned to the far off door and shouted.

"Come in now! Bata Masika!"

The door opened, and in came an elegant, tall, impeccably dressed woman.

"Liz... you were Habibah, and she is your mother."

"M-Mom!"