To say that I was speechless would be, in fact, a lie. Big one. I had lots of things to say to little miss Russia. But, in the end, all I ended up telling her was for her to tell me more about why she was trying to kill me. That sounded like something that needed to be cleared up.
“Verde von Klaus.”
I frowned, “Who has a clown?”
Chloe narrowed her eyes at me. Since this still wasn’t a glare I was starting to think maybe we were getting on the right foot for once. “Verde von Klaus is the name of the man who sent me.”
“Oh.” I nodded slowly. “So, I just need to go talk to him, then. Clear this whole misunderstanding up in a flash.”
“Considering he sent me to kill you, yes I’d say things would be cleared up in a flash at your meeting,” said the Russian girl.
“So why the college girl ruse?” I asked her, “You’ve been in my class for like-”
“Six months.” Chloe decided to finish for me.
I glared at her. Geez, I just can’t escape all the glaring.
“Thank you, Sherlock. However would I have remembered that little tidbit.” I muttered.
Chloe smiled at that before finally telling me what I wanted to know. Shrugging, she said, “I had to find out if you even had the glove in the first place.”
What? I mean, I understood, but I thought I was the picture of carefulness. Upon my stating this, Chloe suddenly burst out in peals of laughter. “So the future predicting, all knowing, history loving billionaire was careful?” After she got the reigns pulled back on her funny horse she said, “The people of your time were easy to fool because they know nothing of true suffering. Sure, America has had their share of sticky situations, but in the end they always came out on top. Now they’re presented with someone who can, to them, predict the future. Should they embrace this new found superman, or pick apart every detail to find out what’s really going on because, of course, men aren’t capable of feats such as these?”
I couldn’t answer that, which I guess was what Chloe wanted because apparently she wasn’t finished.
“Have you ever heard of the Butterfly Effect?”
“Of course,” I answered, “Great movie. Although the ending wasn’t the best.”
“It was rather odd, I’d say.” Evonne threw in.
“Fools.” Chloe muttered, shaking her head causing Evonne and I some comfort. Finally, another point for us. What? You’re thinking that I haven’t been keeping up with Russia’s points? Oh, you weren’t thinking that? Uh, then never mind…
“Yes, I know about your theory that relates to trampling innocent insects. What’s your point?” I said.
“My point,” Chloe said, “Is that on one of these field trips of yours, sooner or later, you will step on a butterfly.”
Okay. I’d had enough lecturing to last me the rest of my life. “Good point, miss Mona,” I said in my best history teacher voice, “Now I think it’s time for you to listen to me.” I finished, and stood.
“First off, America has been through plenty, sweetheart, so forgive me for telling you to keep your Twenty-Fourth century rants to yourself. And, oh yeah, Russia is one of the most bountiful countries on the planet. But since you guys had a few nut jobs like Stalin at the helm you’ve been through oh so much woe and sadness.” I said that last part with as much animation and sarcasm that someone could possibly pour into a subject and still be taken seriously.
“And his little famous saying all you Russian folks like to throw around that states, ‘The death of one man is a tragedy, death of a million is a statistic’, wasn’t even said by him. It was said first by a German writer and sideline pacifist named Erich Maria Remarque.”
Chloe didn’t like being a college girl anymore if her darkened facial features and the almost visible steam coming out of her ears was anything to go by. “So you’ve met him, then?”
I laughed at that, “Yeah, I’m just going to go have a cup of tea with one of the most maniacal and murderous of men that history has to offer. No, Chloe, that’s just a little Wikipedia for you.” I leaned against a nearby post, “Secondly, I’ve tested out your Butterfly Effect theory myself several times and I have to say, it’s bogus.”
“What have you done?”
Shrugging, I said, “Not much. Punched Da Vinci’ in the face, made sure that a certain emperor didn’t have a fiddle when Rome burnt… easy stuff.”
After looking at me for what seemed like a long time, Chloe said, “And?”
I shrugged again. “And nothing. That’s just it. Nothing happened differently.”
“I… That doesn’t make any sense.” For the first time, the Russian girl looked confused.
“Not really, when you think about it.” I told her, “We’ve all just been looking at time the wrong way. Instead of the past being this ever flowing life stream that makes the future possible, it’s just the past. Look at it like time takes a picture every millisecond, when we go back in time it’s like stepping on a painted sidewalk. Our presence on the sidewalk doesn’t change the painting neither does whatever we do while we’re there.”
Chloe had been listening to this intently, which I was thinking was a good sign. “So I guess what I’m really trying to ask is, since you and I know that your Butterfly theory is a bust, what’s the real reason you’re trying to kill me?”
"I don't have to kill you. I just need the glove."
I watched her brows furrow in thought as she chewed at her lip a little. After doing this for too long, she finally said, “I told you your glove was unique, yes?”
I shook my head, “You said there were two others and that was pretty much it.”
“The glove you found was the first my father created.” She said, “He tried to keep its existence secret but since the whole operation was funded by Klaus, it was only a matter of time before he found out.”
Then it all started making sense. Or, about as much sense as a crazy story like this could, anyway. “So your dad hid it in the past somewhere near Flagstaff.”
“Exactly. The construction of the second glove was just for that purpose alone.”
“Ok. Whoa. Back up,” I told her, holding up my glove and pointing at it. “So you’re saying that your old man built a whole other glove just to hide this one in the past? Explain yourself, little Miss Russia.”
Chloe stood and Evonne bristled slightly, a hand flying to his broadsword. “Easy, Mitch…” I said to him.
“The first glove possesses two important things that it’s two cousins lack.” Chloe said simply, “I can only make one jump in a twelve hour period with mine, whereas you can change times every second should you choose.”
I frowned, examining my glove, “No kidding?”
“Not only that, but the first glove is also the only one of the three capable of transporting others simply by touch, whether you are taking them with you or bringing them back.”
I stopped checking out my gauntlet of time long enough to give her a horrified look. “Bring ‘em back? Like, people from the past to the present?”
She nodded.
Wow. I had never in my wildest and most crazy ideas that had to do with time travel even considered doing that. “That could be… complicated.”
“You can also move as many people as you want, so long as they’re all connected.” Chloe added.
“What is your father’s connection with Verde von Klaus?” Evonne asked, surprising me.
“Klaus is a severely wealthy man who somehow heard about a thesis my father wrote years ago on time travel. Before any of us knew it my father was approached by Klaus who asked him how much it would take to make his thesis possible. Father told him and then we were shipped to a facility in Flagstaff owned by Klaus where my father lacked for nothing.”
“And how did you fit into all this? You’re like, what, twenty?” I asked.
“Twenty-two,” she corrected me in annoyance, “I was twenty when I began helping my father in the lab.”
Then she tol
d us the rest of the story. How her father labored over a year before creating the first glove and finding out that Klaus hadn’t been playing with a full deck to start with and wanted the glove for reasons that of course Chloe didn’t know but were most likely evil conniving ones. Then her father made another one in secret and hid the original, awesome, bodacious one (found by yours truly) in the past.
The only hang up along the way was when Klaus found out about Dr. Atrium Spark’s little switcharoo. “That’s when Klaus took my father into custody and told me to find the other glove or he’d kill him.”
“So how long have you been searching?” I inwardly grimaced when I asked.
“Over a year.” She confirmed.
“Geez." I muttered. What was I supposed to say? Or do?
“So all you need is the glove?” I asked.
Chloe brightened a little, “You’ll give it back?”
“I never said that.”
Deflating a little, she said, “Yes. That’s all I need.”
I sighed. Man, life sucks sometimes. I mean, here I am, the time-traveling, awesome billionaire who’s cut short because of some crazy guy from the future with a weird name. “Okay, Chloe, here’s the deal, we switch gloves. You tell Klaus that the other was destroyed or something but you’ll have your dad’s no-kill ticket.”
I could tell that Chloe wasn’t too thrilled about my plan but she could also tell that she probably wasn’t going to get a better offer so she said, “Fine. I suppose you and your butler will want to get back to Chicago first?”
“That’d rock, yes,” I said, “Grab your gear, Mitch.”
Don’t get me wrong, whoever you are, because I wasn’t too thrilled about this little arrangement myself. But I was thinking that downgrading was a whole lot better than losing the glove completely.
In exactly one minute, we were all standing together in the center of the shack. Evonne put a hand on my shoulder while Chloe awkwardly placed her hand on my other shoulder.
“You kid’s buckle up,” I said, while punching in the date for Chicago.
I guess it wouldn’t be too bad. I mean, Chloe would get her daddy back and Mitch and I would still get to be partners in time. That was the plan, anyway.
And like most plans made when time travel was concerned, it didn’t work out.
Like, at all.
Chapter 9