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  Drive Time Copyright © 2017 by Matt Wilkinson. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Matt Wilkinson with the help of cheriefox @ Fiverr

  https://www.fiverr.com/cheriefox

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Matt Wilkinson

  Visit my website at www.matt-wilkinson-author.com

  First Printing: October 2017

  ISBN-9781549948404

  Drive Time

  Matt Wilkinson

  Prologue

  Simon Raines pondered on whether bringing about his own death would be suicide or murder. Either way, Simon had to die.

  The problem is in the execution, he thought. He allowed himself a smirk when he caught the pun. Just how would he go about taking his life without affecting his very meticulously laid out plans for the future? He would have to hide. Hide himself away in a place where no one would look. The most unexpected location possible. He needed a place away from anywhere a soul would think to investigate, even if they had hundreds of years to uncover it. Immortality unseen was his ultimate goal, just to be sure, impossible as it seemed. They could never find him if he were to succeed.

  Somewhere even he himself wouldn’t even think of looking.

  Then, he’d not see his own death coming.

  Chapter 1

  Origin Point -18 Hours

  “In what way do you see yourself being suited for this role, Ms Manford?” Victor Peterson asked from behind his desk.

  The leggy blonde, Samantha, sat on the opposite side of the table, far closer than he had expected though he wasn’t complaining. Closer than expected, as the desk was smaller than he’d realised. Their knees were touching. The room’s lone piece of furniture hadn’t even been in the ‘office’ until thirty minutes before the interview; he’d brought it from home in the back of his car with the seats down. It had coffee mug rings and paint splatter. He didn’t see the cartoon of a penis scratched into the surface until the interview was already under way; it was now covered with Samantha’s resume.

  “I think my previous experience would be a perfect fit for your business.”

  She looked at her surroundings, a little concerned that she may be attacked by vermin at any moment, the warehouse in which her interview was taking place was not what she was expecting. Both interviewer and interviewee were still wearing their coats as it was colder inside than out.

  “Don’t worry,” Victor said, picking up on her discomfort. “The building will be renovated before anyone new starts work here. Can you explain how your work at,” he checked the resume, careful to not re-reveal the childish graffiti, “InVogue Promotions might translate to the particle physics world?”

  “Well, my boss always placed a lot of pressure on me to look good physically. Ugly people don’t sign as many clients. We had this girl called Sharon working with us one time, her ears were too large, she didn’t get any commission at all. She quit after a week.”

  “Oh, poor Sharon,” Victor paused for a moment, then continued when he realised that Samantha wasn’t making a joke. “Not exactly what I meant by physics, though. We deal with the science of physics here. You didn’t research that before the interview? No? Not a problem. Why are you making the move away from modelling and promotions?”

  “Well, the promotional work is only part time. I thought a little admin work might help ends meet. I searched online for gym and physical therapy work, this must have come up accidentally, maybe I misspelt something.”

  “Maybe it could be a happy mistake as we might need an assistant to handle the paperwork, we’ll be busy with the physics.”

  “What kind of physics?”

  “We’re mainly concerned with quantum entanglement right now.”

  “Sounds sexy.” She gave him a flirtatious smile.

  Twenty-eight, medium build with brown eyes and thick, short brown hair, Victor would be what most consider as average looking, but with bucket loads of confidence, he had very little trouble in attracting the attentions of the opposite gender.

  “I suppose it is. It’s all about connections and attraction. Do you know what a photon is?”

  “Isn’t that what they shoot at each other in Star Wars?”

  Victor winced a little at the confusion between two of his favourite intellectual properties. He fought back the compulsion to correct her on the particularities of Trek and Wars.

  “Sorta. They’re tiny, tiny particles that make up radiation like light. We can pair two photons so that anything that happens to one of them happens to the other. Like soul mates. No matter how far apart they are, they react as a pair.”

  “Sweet.”

  “Isn’t it? We can use their connection to communicate, I could make a messaging device with one of the tiny couple inside, then place its soul mate inside another and give it to you. No matter where you went in the world, I would be able to send you messages. You wouldn’t need to worry about bars on your device, as we’d always have perfect reception. They’d only be able to talk to each other, so I’d be the only one in your address book, but I’d always be there for you. Connected. Even if you travelled to the other end of the universe.”

  Samantha shook herself out of the transfixed state she’d unwittingly entered into while Victor stared into her eyes. “Is any of this even true? It sounds a little far-fetched.”

  “It’s entirely factual. It will be a useful way of sending secure messages in future. Nothing would be transmitted over airwaves or through cables, so it’s virtually immune to interception. We’ll have much more interesting applications in mind, though.”

  “I’m intrigued, what ways?”

  “Well, I could tell you, but then I’d…”

  There was a sudden thud from the door to the warehouse, quickly followed by a grunt that could be heard softly through the closed door, then another thud and the squeak of wood against wood as the door sprung open and a slightly plump man fell through the opening onto the warehouse floor.

  “Shit, Simon, you okay, mate?” Victor asked with a smirk, he went to his friend and helped him to his feet.

  “Fine thanks. That door’s the first thing we’re getting fixed when the cash starts flowing.” The tumbler said.

  “There’s no point even having the door when there’s a man-sized hole in the brickwork of the west wall, might want to get that filled in first. I don’t know why you didn’t use it to get in here, it’s right in front of where you parked, Si.”

  Victor had known Simon Raines for over ten years since they were in college together, but he was still surprised by Simon’s lack of common sense. Simon had a genius level intellect but spent so much time in his mind that he even bungled the things that should be achieved on autopilot. For people of Simon’s personality type this was by no means unusual, Victor knew, but it always amazed him to see Simon act like an archetypal cartoon science professor. Victor also had a much higher than average IQ, but he was glad he didn’t reach the point on the spectrum where he started to lose the instinctual functions that most human beings shared. He often thought that he should buy Simon a crash helmet and protective suit to prevent him getting seriously hurt by his lack of attention to his environment.

  Simon straightened his thin mousey blonde hair, trying to regain some semblance of dignity after the fall, despite it being
a mess even before the fall. “Who’s this?” he asked.

  “Who?” Victor replied, failing to play dumb. “Oh, this is Samantha, I’m interviewing her for the admin position.”

  “What admin position? We don’t even have paperwork to file, let alone anywhere to file it. Are you using that as an excuse to pick up women again.”

  Victor quickly bustled Simon a few feet away from Samantha.

  “Shh, Simon, that’s not what I’m doing... this time. Well... maybe a little, but I think we’ll need a female presence around the office, there’s too much testosterone flying around,” This was a blatant lie since both men knew neither of them was a testosterone flinger. “We need some oestrogen to even it out. This could be a disaster. You know how you get when you can’t do your morning sudoku.”

  Simon rolled his eyes. “We have Spencer; she’s a girl. We can’t trust anyone with what we have here, Victor, you know that. Not a complete stranger, anyway.”

  “Sam’s not a complete stranger, we were in the middle of an interview before you literally crashed it. That’s why we have interviews, Simon. Oh, and Spencer’s one of the boys. She’s even got a boy’s name for God’s sake.”

  “It’s gender neutral.”

  “Whatever,” Victor said, trying to shrug off Simon’s protests, before immediately resigning to them. “Well, maybe you’re right. She might be a distraction, I’d never get anything done. Might even have to fire myself for inappropriately flirting with the female staff.”

  “I can still hear you. The echo in here’s pretty loud,” Samantha objected. “And I can reach out and touch you without leaving my seat.”

  “Apologies, Miss Manford, no offence meant.”

  “None taken. I probably wouldn’t report it anyway, hon.” She winked. “But it sounds like I wasted my time here since there’s no real position.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Victor said. “We’ll need someone no doubt. Simon hates paperwork, don’t you Simon?”

  “The monotony relaxes me.”

  “Shut up, Simon.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You have my number on the application, maybe call me if you decide there is a position. Or even if there isn’t.” She smiled and turned to leave.

  “You might want to use the west wall,” Simon said, “It’s closer to the car park.”

  He pointed to the large gap, twenty or so feet to her right and she thanked him, heading out into the car park. Victor and Simon watched her leave.

  “What was this one? Stripper?” Simon guessed.

  “She sold cars. Why are you here anyway? I thought you were allergic to the mould.”

  “I came to put some rat traps down. I’m more allergic to them.”

  “Once we get that wall filled, we should get less.”

  “I feel like I could catch something just breathing in the air here.”

  “Yeah, next time an uncle dies and leaves you property, make sure you get them to make it more hospitable before they croak.”

  Chapter 2

  Origin Point -16 Hours

  After laying Simon’s traps at the warehouse, he and Victor decided to return to Simon’s Harrogate flat and continue work on the time drive while waiting for pizza to arrive.

  The interesting applications of the machine — that Samantha had not been informed of due to Simon’s unceremonious arrival — went far beyond messaging practice that Victor had mentioned. In addition to photon pairs being linked across space, they were also connected across time. If photons A and B were entangled, Photon B could be re-entangled with a new particle, Photon C, at a later date. Photon C would then affect Photon A while skipping the time in between their pairings. This meant they could send a message via their present photon to the original in the past.

  If a pair were entangled today, for instance, then were re-entangled with another photon in a week, they would offer a direct line to seven days in the past. This in itself would be hugely lucrative to anyone with half a brain, but the machine would work fast enough to create new pairs within a tenth of a second of each other. Each pair could then be used in relay to reach any point between the present and the moment in the past when the machine first became operational.

  Computing and sending messages via quantum entanglement wasn’t a new concept, scientists had been toying with the notion for decades. Victor, Simon and Spencer were just the first to make the method stable and reliable enough to use effectively. The key was in the method used to read the state of the photons; current techniques were unable to test an entangled photon without destroying it. The three physicists had cracked that particular problem, giving themselves a head start on the competition.

  “You’ve been busy, did you make more photon boxes?” Victor asked as he surveyed Simon’s living room.

  To call it a living room might be oxymoronic, as the area hadn’t enough space for living comfortably. The majority of the space was taken up by the group’s inventions and the devices they used to maintain them. Some of the tech had even spilt into Simon’s bedroom, and going to the bathroom during the night had become a drowsy obstacle course, resulting in minor injury more than once.

  “I made another seven boxes so we can send a full byte in tandem, rather than in serial bit by bit, should improve the speed and efficiency even further.”

  “Faster than what was already virtually instantaneous?”

  “Cheating time is what we’re all about right now.”

  “Fair point.”

  There was a knock at the door. Knowing that the pizza guy would have to use the intercom to gain entry to the building, Victor looked to Simon inquisitively. Simon held a finger to his lips. Victor kept silent. What? He mouthed to Simon. Simon shrugged.

  “Mr Raines!” A voice called from the corridor outside the flat. “I know you’re in there. I can see the light from under the door, and your car is parked outside. I need your rent and the arrears by tomorrow, or I’ll have no choice but to evict you. You’re three months behind, it’s unacceptable. I should have removed you when you missed the first month. Mr Raines! I can see your lights!”

  “I keep the lights on, so burglars think I’m home,” Simon shouted.

  Victor held his palms to the air in a ‘what the hell’ gesture. Simon looked clueless.

  “Whatever,” the voice responded, “you have until tomorrow, or you’re out.”

  Simon went to the door to hear footsteps retreating through the passage beyond.

  “Phew, that was close.” he said.

  “Yeah, Simon, I think you got away with it,” Victor said, incredulously. “Stealthy.”

  “Yeah?” Simon said, oblivious to the sarcasm. “I have no idea where I’m getting the rent, so I’m glad he left.”

  “Simon, did you not hear him? You’ll have nowhere to live tomorrow if you don’t give him what you owe.”

  “Oh, he always says that, it’ll be fine. These boxes are going to be like our own private mint.”

  “I don’t know, mate, it didn’t sound that way. That it’s fine, I mean, the second part was right.”

  “Either way, I’ll be able to afford a mansion once this gets switched on. Not that I’d waste money on that kind of thing. I just need work and sleep space.”

  “Well, we’d better step up the schedule a bit. We can run the first test tomorrow.”

  “Sure. These eight are all ready to go, we should probably get started on another eight.”

  “The container for the boxes and the intermediation is going to be quite big, not really plug and play is it?”

  “We’ll have chance to upgrade them as we go, I’d say I could fit all eight photons and the sensors in a package that’s two by one by one inch. Once we’re operational, we’ll have the funds to miniaturise them in no time.”

  “Literally, if this works.”

  “It’s going to work. It has to. I spent all my rent on these boxes and the materials for the other eight I’m going to get started on now.”

  “Probabl
y not the best idea, the drive will work fine with one box on each end. You need a place to sleep if we’re going to continue this project.”

  “I just wanted to make the first test as efficient as possible, so we have the best starting position. Hopefully, we’ll see profit in time to pay my arrears. If it comes down to a race against time, we’ll win.”

  “Yeah, time’s gonna be our bitch,” Victor said, joining in with Simon’s positivity. “Once this thing’s on, we’ll be closer to having all the time in the world than anyone, ever. Louis Armstrong can suck it.”

  “Our machine can’t send messages back to the seventies when he died, it will only go back as far as when we first switch it on.”

  “It was a figure of speech, Si,” Victor said, amazed once more by Simon’s literal-mindedness. “Even if we put aside the fact that I didn’t even exist before ‘89, I don’t plan on using our revolutionary, world-changing device to send a message back in time and bag myself a BJ from an old jazz man.”

  “Okay, that’s good, I don’t imagine Doc Brown would have approved of that.”

  “No,” Victor adopted his best Christopher Lloyd impression. ‘I didn’t invent the time machine to solicit oral sex from old jazz men, Marty, I invented the time machine to travel through time!’”

  They both laughed until the front door buzzer sounded.

  “That’ll be the pizza,” Simon said as he went to buzz the delivery person in via the intercom handset on the wall by the flat’s front door.

  Victor perused the eight boxes on the hardware strewn table in front of him. These little boxes were about to make history, and remake future history. He gave the boxes a pat and smiled, his life, and the lives of his two best friends were about to become a lot more exciting thanks to these black plastic objects and their contents. The drive to which the future data-stream would be downloaded was seated next to the boxes. Currently a box of about two square feet filled with standard 3.5” personal computer hard drives. The box was modular, so they could add extra data storage when needed. They were to use a custom built program on Simon’s laptop to write to the hard drive externally. Once the machine was running smoothly, the laptop would be replaced by a desktop computer, allowing further upgrades. When the plan was in full swing, the team would receive messages from their future selves, informing them of how to improve the system beyond the capabilities of their present time’s technological limitations.