Chapter 1
October 24, 1999
The students sat, notebooks ready, waiting for the lecture to begin. Faces of interest, faces of lethargy, and faces of hangover looked down upon him as he paced back and forth across the cream tile floor. He shuffled some transparencies in his hands, settling for a different one, focusing the projector for the third time.
He looked up at the student body and switched on his microphone. "Today I have a special treat for you" he said. The faces did not change. It was too early in the morning. "I have written a paper. Something I hope to have published soon." He straightened his podium out acting unusually nervous for someone who speaks in public for a living.
"We are not currently working on the topic I have chosen," he said scanning back and forth. "You will not be tested on this material. I am looking for some feedback."
The sound of notebooks closing reverberated throughout the hall and a collective sigh-of-relieve swept the students hovering above.
"Think of this as kind of a day off and relax," he said with a rare smile.
"Is this extra credit?" a voice perked up from the rear followed by chuckling.
"No Brad, this is not extra credit. Maybe for your brain, but that is about it." He answered. "Well hold it!" he said scratching his ear. "If any of you want to submit a paper based on today’s lecture, I will consider it extra credit. It must though, be on the same subject as what I am going to be speaking about," he added. "Ok Brad?"
"Alright Dr. Rhine" Brad said and the class erupted with laughter.
"For those of you who want the extra credit, I advise you to open your notebooks again and get you pencils ready. I will make copies for anyone who wants one. Of my lecture that is."
Tony took a deep breath and faced his audience with his original material. Just like working a stand up gig he thought. He looked down to his prepared paper and spoke aloud.
"I believe that most people have in inaccurate perception of the passage of time," he started off, keeping his eye on his best student. "People tend to think of it as a highway, the past disappearing quickly behind us with the future lying just ahead. We are like passengers in a car watching the landscape move past as we move down the road. If we wish, we could turn the vehicle around visiting our past, or speed up visiting our future. This is based on our human need to place a measuring stick on everything around us, and to explain concepts beyond our comprehension. Take for example the outdated need to explain life and death by creating an all-powerful God, who watches over us and rewards us with an afterlife.
The human animal, only a few steps out of the jungle, has already mastered the technology to travel in space, invented machines to do his labor and discovered many of the secrets of physics. Yet he prays to his creator like his ancient ancestors did and credits all of creation to an omnipotent being. He cites the first theory of thermodynamics which states "matter can not be created nor destroyed" to justify this belief. His yardstick firmly in place gives him the confidence to meet each new day without the anxiety or fear of death. Thanks to his creator he will have a seat waiting for him in heaven.
Like many of his outdated ideas, his perception of the passage of time is skewed by rules of science written by men, who had limited knowledge of the discipline, and lived during the age of discovery. If it is possible to record actions then it must be possible to move through the story and travel to different chapters. If he only had the technology to travel through a magic door, which could propel him through time, he could land in his past or visit his future.
Once again, I believe that most people have in inaccurate perception of the passage of time. Time is not a river. It does not flow, and you can not travel to and from as you wish. The distant past is just as close to you as the recent past. Your future is just as close to you as the present. There are no destinations in time; there is just our human explanation of a concept, which we have no true idea of. We have to make sense of it in a way we can understand. How can we possibly understand the concept of infinity? Time has no beginning, nor end. Time is here and now, we are in it. The age of the dinosaurs is just as close as the age of man. The creation of the universe is just as close as the current day.
We try to visualize the many births of the universe, seeing mass explosions of matter creating the area we call space. We tend to think of it as something far and away. So far away it is beyond our comprehension. Time is not just a series of events caught on film to review with a beginning middle and end. It is here and now. It is a sliver of existence. If you could reach out of it you could touch the gas clouds that formed our galaxy as easily as touching the robes of Jesus.
Infinity is an easy concept to understand if you release the outdated rules of science as man has envisioned it. As far as time is concerned, time is not infinite. There was no beginning and there will be no end. Mans yardstick was a good tool to help explain this concept but it is now time to throw it away and rethink the laws of physics. People justify God by saying, "Something can’t come from nothing." The answer is that there never was "Nothing". Matter was not created; it has always been here. If you throw away the yardstick and stop thinking of time as a river it will start to make sense.
You may ask then, how do we explain the aging process of the universe? Plants grow, changing shape and color showing a definite difference form month to month, and year to year. Animals grow old, reproducing in order to continue the line. If there is no such thing as time then why is there a physical change we can observe in the world around us. To answer the question you must realize that aging is the process by which matter and energy change physical from, at a consistent or inconsistent rate.
This rate will be incorrectly assumed as the concept of time, because different objects do age at different rates according to the speed they are traveling in relation to each other. Moving objects age at a lesser rate than stationary objects. By this time you will think that I have contradicted my first statement about the concept of time. I have not." Dr Rhine said pointing his finger to the ceiling, not taking his eyes off his manuscript. "My argument is that objects do age, it is just that we humans do not comprehend aging and have created a theory about it called time, in order to explain it.
With this new understanding, it is then possible to be able to move through the aging process. I will call the process time in order to make it more understandable. As I stated before, aging has different rates for different objects which makes it possible to be able to travel forward at a different pace. If you slow down and the world around you continues at your old rate, it would appear you were traveling forward. To those around you it would appear you have frozen in time. If you met up again at a later moment it would appear as though you traveled forwards in time. In fact all you have done is slow your aging process.
The physical body one once occupied in 1956 no longer exists. The Earth at that point of aging is not stored somewhere to be retrieved at a later time. Once something has passed a certain point in the aging process it has ceased to exist. We can record light waves of the period on film and record sounds on tape; this is but a collection of images and not the object itself. The film itself will age and turn yellow and crack eventually returning to the elements which made it.
It is now that we should rethink and reexamine how we perceive the theories of physics laid down centuries ago. At an earlier age, supernatural explanations were used along with scientific theories in order to understand the physical world around us. We no longer believe the world is flat and that the Earth is the center of the universe. Many of these outdated ideas were created at the same age as the discovery of gravity and electricity. At one point it was believed that man could not fly, but we know this now to be untrue. Witches were created to explain death and disease, and black cats were considered evil. These concepts of magic are from the same time period as the people who first created many of the scientific theories we think of today as fact. The problem with this thinking is that black cats are not evil, and many of these facts are untrue.
I can believe in the concept of time if it is used only as a measuring tool. A way of placing events into history in relation to other events. On paper we can establish a frame of reference using plotting points of years and months. This is still plagued with the problem that different objects do age at different rates, but since the rate is so minimal it can be overlooked for recording purposes. If we were interstellar travelers we would need one calendar for us, and one for all of the places around us. Since we travel little in comparison to each other, the aging difference is almost undetectable, maybe a few minutes over a lifetime." Dr. Rhine stated.
The class was dismissed early, allowing the professor to his office where he could make some typographical corrections. It was now lunch break.
Two hours later
The doctor moved his mouse button to the file box, saving the document to his hard-drive. Clicking on the print icon, he slid back across the room in his office chair to the printer, flicking the unit to the on position. A buzzing sound indicated the printer was warming up and soon out popped a hardcopy of the paper he had read to his students. It always seemed easier to proof the documents on real paper verses reading it off the screen. He had been working for weeks on this paper with the deadline closely approaching. He was to submit the report for approval the next day and he wanted the opinion of his colleagues in the science department before he sent it off. If it were accepted it would be printed in the university scientific journal.Dr. Rhine was under the same pressure to have his work published as any other college level professor knowing well it was "publish or parish". If you weren’t creating new ideas and publishing them your career as a teacher could be shortened greatly. A subject very close to his heart inspired his current paper. For the concept of time and time travel were subjects he had been interested since boyhood. He had theorized that time travel was an impossibility of physics and the fascination of science fiction.
He had been an instructor at the university for two years and was assigned one of the smallest offices in the science department. He called it "the closet" and for good reasons. It was narrow and long and could only be accessed by way of another adjoining office. Although he had been there almost three years, he was still one of the newest faculty in the department. The man who’s office he walked through to get to his was only a year in seniority and only had a slightly larger office.
After proofing the paper and reading his students reviews, he looked through the glass that separated his office from his neighbor seeing him sitting behind his desk. "I need a second opinion," he thought to himself walking to the other room. Professor Alex Parsons, a rather short unattractive man in his fifties occupied the other office and was currently buried in the Opinion page of the local paper when Dr. Tony entered the room.
"What’s the crisis today Doc?" Tony asked.
"Alphabetical order or by importance," he replied, eyes glued to the paper.
"Sounds like more than I care to deal with…uh, would you consider doing me a favor?" he, asked. "I need to have my submission critiqued for the Journal, and I was wondering…"
"Why waste your time…no one really reads those things," Alex replied.
"I know," Tony said. "But I think I have some good points, and was actually interested in your opinion." Alex paused and took a deep breath. He set down his newspaper and folded it in a haphazard manner.
Tony took notice of the front cover headlines concerning a story about the abduction and murder of several coeds from the University. One of the names seemed vaguely familiar to him. He bent over to take a closer look when Alex interrupted pulling the paper away.
"Sure…just leave it on my desk, I’ll give it a once over," Alex said. "Are you still on that kick about time, and the meaning of the universe crap?" he asked in a sarcastic tone.
"Yeah, at least I have a hobby, all you do is put in your time around here, waiting for retirement," Tony said jokingly.
"I think you get a kick out of offending the Christians," Alex said.
"I just tell it like it is, if they want to believe in tall tales and fables, it is there own business. God is a number you know," Tony said.
"Don’t be to sure of yourself professor. You are just dealing in theories, and yours is no better than anyone else’s," Alex replied
"I have science to back me up. Reliable, repeatable, provable science."
"Your so called science is far less reliable as you think."
"How can you say that when you yourself are a teacher of science?"
"As a man of science and a teacher I must realize that we are dealing with theories and not facts. No one was around to record the beginnings of life," Alex said confidently.
"Yes, but man was around when Jesus Christ walked the Earth, and man still endowed him with supernatural powers," Tony said. "Man recorded Jesus’ work and failed to make an accurate journal of his life. He has become the object of fables and fairy tales."
"You may find out different one day young man," Alex said smugly.
"I just might," Tony replied and returned to his office.
Tony glanced up to the clock on the wall. It was forty-five minutes till his next lecture and he had to prepare. He sifted through the large stack of papers on his desk and tried to make sense of his lesson plans. Today’s lesson was on the formation of the planets and the force of gravity and inertia that holds them all in orbit. Astronomy was also one of his favorite subjects and taught it with enthusiasm.
A familiar voice from the science secretary piped over his intercom. "Professor Rhine…there are a couple of men here in my office that would like to speak with you." She said, "Shall I send them in?"
He again glanced up at the clock and pressed the communication button. "Yes Mary, send them on in," he replied. "What now?" he thought. "I hope I’m not in trouble. Probably some salesman were here to sell me siding." He was actually well prepared and could give this lecture with little preparation. He approached his work with great eagerness.
Through the window he could see two well-dressed men carrying briefcases at their sides. "Now I’m in for it," he thought to himself. He followed them with his eye as they walked though the other office, into his office and stood silent before him. They had a no nonsense look about them seeming quite anxious to speak with the doctor. Tony waited for them to speak not even considering introducing himself.
"Dr. Rhine?" asked the man on the left.
"Yes I am Tony Rhine, what can I do for you?" he replied.
"I am sorry to bother you doctor but we are here concerning a matter of national security," the man said.
Tony looked at him with puzzlement.
"You sure know how to cut through the bull don’t you?" Tony asked.
"We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the importance of the matter," he said. "And we are not able to discuss it here you understand?" stated the other man.
"Not really…I do have a class in thirty minutes." Tony said.
"I don’t think you realize the gravity of the situation doctor. You need to cancel your classes for at least today, and reschedule the next week with another instructor."
"I can’t just pick up and leave!" Tony exclaimed.
"We can not force you to go with us, but please give us the chance to show you what this is all about," the man said.
Tony reclined back in his chair taking a deep breath. He studied the men before him and scratched his ear. He reached over picking up his warm coffee and took a sip. He sat for a minute thinking about what they had said. It was evident that the two men before him were ready to explode, waiting impatiently for an answer.
"Who are you again?" he asked.
"We cannot say," the man replied.
"This is damn strange. Why me?"
"You are an expert in a certain scientific field, and that is all I can say," the man said.
"Give me an hour," Tony said.
"We have a car waiting for you outside, and a plane at the airport. Time is critical. You can make arrangements after you have arrived."
"Arrived where?"
***
The trip to the airport was awkwardly quiet. Tony knew he would get no answers from them and was content to stay in the dark. The car was an unmarked government vehicle with several modifications made to the interior including a mesh steel barrier between him and the driver. He felt like a prisoner. Tony was single and did not need to inform anyone of his whereabouts. He did make arrangements for the Government to come in take care of his house.
At the airport he was driven straight to a small two-engine passenger plane with the capacity to hold twelve people. On board he discovered his fellow professor Alex Parsons reading the newspaper sitting along side with several military types dressed in tan camouflage. It seemed strange that they were dressed this way. He felt like he was going to war. He didn’t bother to address Alex because he knew he had no more information that he. He just nodded at Alex in acknowledgement
"You will be briefed upon arrival doctor," the man said. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride."
Tony watched out the window as the plane quickly rose into the air and the ground became smaller and smaller. His mind wandered as he tried to make out the tiny objects far below. He scanned the horizon and it amazed him how the Earth met the sky. It was hard to believe that this was all an accidental act of nature but in his mind he knew this it was.
***
An older man met Tony at the destination airport He was in his sixties, rugged with age, unlike the military personnel he had been with for the last two hours. He looked intelligent and somewhat classy with just a little gray hair. The older gentleman seemed different, and as out-of –place in this situation as Tony. The small mid-west airport was brimming with military vehicles and soldiers. It looked like the United States were preparing to go off to war. "What was so special about this place?" he thought to himself. Alex joined him by his side and waited for the gentleman to speak.
"Good afternoon Dr. Rhine and Dr. Parsons," he said in an authoritative tone. "I’m glad you were able to come today. We would not have sent for you if this weren’t of the utmost importance," he said."I hope we can get some information soon, I am starting to get agitated with all this cloak and dagger stuff," Alex stated.
"Follow me," he said, "My name is Jesse Brinkman. I recommended you both to consult with this project. I contract with the US government as a consulting scientist in the field of physics and other related fields."
"What are we here to consult on?" Tony asked.
"You won’t have to wait long. We are taking you to it now," Jesse said. He directed them to another military vehicle and they got in. The car sped off smoothly on the airport Tarmac driving out the gate to the airport exit. The first four miles were paved asphalt roads that quickly deteriorated the further they drove. They then followed county roads for miles kicking up dust and racing by fields of corn, milo and wheat. The windows were down and the smell of the dust and crops vented into the car. It was over eighty degrees and they were sweating profusely. The sky was mostly clear and the sun beat down like a hammer.
In the distance they saw a Hummer parked along side a barricade pulled across the road. A soldier was baking in the heat holding a rifle in his arms and another was sitting in the passenger seat. Behind the Hummer, in the distance was a cloud of dust and smoke rising behind a hill. As they approached they could hear the sounds of heavy machinery clanking and moving. The tops of trucks could be seen belching smoke and rising and falling behind the horizon.
When they arrived at the checkpoint the guard passed them through maintaining the same speed. "They must come here often," Tony thought. The closer they drove the louder the sounds became. At the top of the hill, Tony could make out a small city of tents and shelters. Machines and men were all around, like at a construction site. There were cranes; dump trucks, backhoes and bulldozers scattered all about the area.
They parked in an impromptu parking lot adjacent to one of the tents. The tent was itself just a top of canvas suspended on twelve poles with tie downs. They exited the car and were directed to seats under the tent. The heat was still roasting, but the shade was nice.
Jesse Brinkman stood before the men, and offered them a drink. Both men eagerly took them up on it.
"Now gentlemen, I will explain everything." Jesse said.
"We have, or shall I say the owner of this property, discovered something quite fascinating." Jesse said. "Fifty some odd years ago, my father owned this land. He and I were out on this very pasture feeding the cattle," he stated pointing out towards the work area. "Back in those days, we had to take the hay out on a scoop loader on the old John Deere. Maybe it’s the same today. I don’t know for sure, I’m a bit out of touch on modern farming practices," he paused and sipped from a glass of water on the table. "It had been raining like a son of a gun for a week and the ground was just soaked."
Tony and Alex sat patiently on the folding chairs as Jesse spoke; swatting bugs and wiping sweat from their brows as he talked. Tony had a difficult time paying attention watching out the corner of his eye, the machinery working nearby.
Jesse spoke on. "I lost my father that day," he said looking to the ground. "He drove over some soft ground and he tipped. I mean the tractor of course."
"I’m so sorry," Tony said feeling solidarity with the man.
"Thank you. You never get over that kind of thing. Even at my age."
"Did he hit a buried pipeline?" Alex asked.
"No," Brinkman answered. "It was a sinkhole of a magnificent size. It dropped twenty-five feet before it stopped.
"Oh my God!" Tony gasped. "How old were you when this happened?"
"Fifteen," Jesse Brinkman answered. "I ended up in that hole myself. I tried to save him but the ground was to soft."
"What does this have to do with anything?" Alex asked. Tony was shocked at his rudeness.
"A discovery was made that day Dr. Parsons!" Jesse barked at him. "The most significant scientific discovery of all time."
"I apologize," Alex said. "Go on."
"It was because of this discovery that I chose to leave farming and pursue science as my career. I will let you know that you are not the only Ph.D. under this tent Dr. Parsons," he paused for a moment and took another drink. "We found a time machine."
"Time machine?" Tony asked.
"Not an H.G. Wells time machine. It was, and still is, a civilian wide body airliner. A Boeing 747 to be exact."
Silence.
"Where is it now?" Tony asked Jesse.
"See that hanger over there?" he asked pointing past the heavy machinery.
"Yes," both men answered.
"It has been excavated, studied, cataloged and everything else you can think of, right in there."
"It was never moved?" Alex asked.
"Couldn’t. It would have fallen apart."
"Why?"
"It was way too old and in such a poor condition. It would not have stood up to reassembling process."
"How old is this thing?" Alex asked.
"Let me take you down and show it too you. I’ll let you take a guess." Jesse said.
They climbed into a transport vehicle and drove closer to where the heavy machines were working. They drove over rough pasture grassland attaining top speed of 35 mph heading towards the hanger across the field. The closer they got the larger the building became. Minutes past as they surveyed the area wondering how an operation of this size could remain a secret for so long. The farm had been turned into a secret military base and they were about to get to see one of the biggest secrets they had.
As they approached the building, they noticed a drop off getting closer to the front end of the vehicle. The vehicle stopped, letting them all out. As they walked closer to the hanger, they could start to make out the writing on a sign, posted by the front entrance reading "Keep out, violators will be shot on site."
Jesse led the men to the front door flashing his papers for the guard to read. Two men, armed with M-16 semi-machine guns stood guard outside the main door with two more men stationed at the ends of the building. The door swooshed open and the three men entered into the air-conditioned building shivering.
"We keep it at sixty-eight degrees at all times. We’d like it cooler, but the men find it difficult to work in those conditions," Jesse said leading them through the foyer to the hallway.
"Is this some kind of museum?" Tony asked looking around at his surroundings.
"You could say that I suppose. I never thought of it that way," Jesse replied.
"This has been here since, since when?" Alex asked.
"My father came upon it in 1947. They estimate the planes actual age at 50,000 years give or take century."
"The plane?"
"Yes. I said it was a time machine."
They past a vending machine room and bathrooms finding themselves at a check in desk by a large black sliding door. A soldier manned the post with a clipboard and a .45 pistol at his side.
"Brinkman, Rhine and Parsons," Jesse stated to the man. The pages flipped, names were checked, and the door slid open. The scene was unreal.
Tony and Alex stepped forward into a huge room filled with lights, machines and personnel scurrying around like mice. They were taken aback, having to absorb what they were seeing. Looking down into a gigantic pit was the skeletal remains of a Boeing 747, aged and decaying.
"Why the urgency?" Alex asked. "If this thing has been here as long as you say it has, I don’t think it is going anywhere."
"That is true," Jesse replied. "That brings us to the reason why we called you. I will explain later."
The men rode an elevator to the bottom of the excavation. The mesh doors slid open clanging as they separated.
"Dr. Brinkman," Alex said.
"Call me Jesse, I prefer it, less formal you know," Brinkman interrupted.
"Ok then, Jesse," Alex said scanning the massive dig site. "I am curious. You say this plane has been here somewhere around 50,000 years. How can you be so sure of that date?" he asked.
"We can’t be positive Alex. As a man of science I am well aware of your knowledge in the dating process of ancient artifacts. Carbon tests are fallible and we are well aware of that. We had to take in consideration, the biology we found surrounding the plane in the rock and soil layers."
"You did a comparison?" Tony piped up.
"Absolutely, I hear you are quite an expert on this sort of thing," Brinkman said.
"It is my preferred field of study. Is that why you asked me here?" Tony asked.
"Not really. The reason why you and Alex were asked here will be made clear to you very soon. I promise."
Along the sides of the deep walls, were office and workspaces built for the scientist to conduct their study. The dig had been here over fifty years and the plane was taken apart painfully slow over time, in order to allow for proper study. The workspaces were very modern with the best equipment the United States could afford. The men entered into a room with a sign on the door reading "Director."
Jesse sat at his desk and offered the other two a seat and coffee. The work site was plainly visible through the large glass window in the office.
"What are those?" Alex asked pointing to a box of bones on the bottom shelf of a storage cabinet.
"Remains," Brinkman replied.
"There were people on that thing?" Tony asked.
"Of course. 232 to be exact," Brinkman answered.
Alex Parsons picked out one of the short bones from the box and examined it. He squinted and turned it over and over, looking intently at it.
"I am not an expert in biology or archeology, but I think your conclusions on age are inaccurate Mr. Brinkman." Alex said.
"I am an expert Alex, and I assure you the tests brought back the results I spoke of," Brinkman replied.
Alex shuffled in his seat uncomfortably.
"You have had this plane for over fifty years? Were you able to identify the call number, or the owner of it?" Tony asked.
"Yes we did."
"Hold it!" Alex interrupted. "You have not explained how this thing ended up this far underground."
Brinkman leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head looking at the skeptic before him. "I’m sorry. Let me explain," he said as he pointed over to a huge map on his wall. "Somewhere between 50,000 and 100,000 years ago the center of the United States was covered by what is referred to as the Niobrara Sea. It split the North American continent into two separate land masses."
The men looked at the map on the wall and saw the large body of water filling the center basin of the continent. Jesse stood up and walked over to the map, pointing to the central area of the sea and looked back to the men. "We are right about here, in central Kansas. At this time in history, we would be under about fifty to seventy-five feet of salt water."
"I see where this is going," Tony spoke up.
"You think this plane crashed in the Niobrara Sea 50,000 years ago?" Alex asked sarcastically.
"Yes I do," Brinkman replied. "And so do about twenty other scientist’s that have worked on this project for the last fifty years."
"There must be a hundred different reasons why this thing ended up here."
"I agree Alex, probably more. This will become painfully obvious very soon. I guarantee it."
"You still haven’t explained how it ended up under the ground," Tony spoke up.
"I’m sorry, let me get to that," Brinkman said. "We believe the plane made a somewhat controlled landing on the surface of the sea but quickly took on water and sank. When it struck the bottom of the sea it plowed a good twenty feet into the soft mud floor and lodged there. Over time, and I don’t think it took very long from the evidence, it was completely covered."
"Fossilized?" Tony asked.
"In a way," Brinkman answered. "Over time the continent rose and the sea drained off the land leaving the plane trapped in the soil as it solidified. The water leached out over time leaving the plane intact inside."
Alex sat with his arms crossed.
"Jesse, you said you were able to identify the plane," Tony said.
"Oh yes, that is right. This is a Trans Pacific Airlines 747," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Did they ever report one missing?" Tony asked.
"They didn’t have to," Brinkman said. "This plane is currently flying over Denver as we speak."
" That is impossible." Tony said. "Everything I know is wrong."
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