The Importance of a Good Breakfast

11. Warp 10!

James stepped into the cockpit and sat down heavily beside Mel, who was piloting through a field of stars that were moving rapidly aside. It really looked quite like the special effect of the Enterprise going at warp speed. They sat together in silence for a time as James watched Mel make constant minor adjustments to the controls in front of her. Finally, she seemed satisfied enough to lean back in her chair and look over at James.
“You smell like smoke,” she said, determined to ignore the sling around his shoulder, holding his arm in place.
A shrug. “I figured it was either that or get myself set on fire.” James gave a half grin and settled back in his seat. “How on earth did you figure out how to fly this thing anyway?”
Now it was Mel’s turn to shrug. “I read the manual. It was rather quite helpful. Although I can’t find the autopilot button that it frequently mentions.” Just then, one of the streaking stars seemed to break away from the pack and come flying at front of the ship. Mel reached forward and made a few minor adjustments, causing the star to fade away again. “It turns out that the ‘computer generated images’ are far more important than Gordon made them out to be. It is a rather complicated yet absurdly simple for of navigation. The streaks that come right at us are realities attempting to pull us back into time, which we currently seem to be out of, and if I don’t steer us around them, then we will be stuck in a time that we don’t want to be in for at least four hours. As near as I can figure, the ship has to recharge for about that long for a safe journey, though the emergency reserves allow for a short and dangerous journey to any-when else. When we land it will automatically disguise itself as something that is relevant to the time, which means that it will look like a dead animal carcass in times before they used wheeled machines. And in the times after wheeled machines, it will look like a wheeled machine without wheels. Best of all, it has mammoth cup holders. We can get the largest slurpees we can imagine.”
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
She merely nodded, a smile on her face.
“So, miss pilot, where-slash-when exactly are we headed?”
“Well, that’s a good question.” Mel adjusted a few more controls, avoiding yet another reality. “According to this computer-thingy, that was the battle of Waterloo that we just passed. And this,” another swerve, “was Columbus’ first steps on North American soil.”
“So we’re going backwards again?”
“I don’t think so. As near as I can tell, the time-stream is not really in chronological order. Yeah, figure that one out.”
“How big is that manual anyway?”
Mel merely motioned to a pamphlet sitting beside her on the console between them. “Not that large, but it’s very well organised.”
James picked it up and read the title: All You Wanted To Know About Time Trravel, But Were To Afraid To Ask, Or Will Be To Afraid To Ask; Whichever You Prefer. He raised his eyebrows. “Even in the future they can’t spell. How much can we trust this?”
“Seems to have steered me straight so far.”
“All right, that’s fine. But my question still hasn’t been answered. When we land, when will we be? And where?”
After a heavy pause, Mel finally sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what the best plan is, how we are supposed to avoid bumping into Gordon, or what exactly we are supposed to do. You’re the saviour of the universe and time stream. Why don’t you tell me!” Obviously the strain was starting to affect her, and not for the best.
James leaned over and squeezed her shoulder gently. “It’s going to be okay, Mel. I know that this isn’t what you were expecting yesterday when you went to school, but it’s what we’ve been given. We’ll just have to deal with it as it comes.” He gave her a reassuring smile, which he desperately hoped looked more convincing than it felt.
“Now, as for where we are going,” he continued after a moment, “I suggest we head somewhere isolated where we can rest for a bit, get something to eat and figure out this machine more precisely. We’ll need somewhere isolated, and preferably warm. The when doesn’t really matter, though I don’t want to go back home, at least not yet.” They sat in silence for a bit, trying to decide what exactly would be best.
Suddenly Mel sat up, a smile on her face. “I have the perfect place.” Quickly she dialled a few knobs and threw a few switches. The streaks outside the main viewer spun around and one quickly broke away from the pack, heading straight for them. “Hold on, this could be rough.”
“What?” James gripped the armrests of the chair tightly. “What do you mean rough? As in the opposite of gentle? I don’t like rough.” Franticly he searched for a seatbelt, but the chairs seemed to be designed without any sort of restraining devices. Fortunately, James was a master of panic, so he knew exactly what to do. “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die!” He repeated this almost as a mantra as they zoomed in closer to the light, which seemed to be engulfing them.
“Whooo-hoooooooooooooo!” was all Mel could think of to say.
A moment later, James sat blinking and rubbing his eyes. “That wasn’t so bad,” he said before fainting.
“Pansy,” muttered Mel as she stood up and stretched her legs. Apparently this model of time machine had energy fields that prevented them from being tossed around, unlike Gordon’s machine, which had left her with a few bruises. The stomach turning feeling and the feeling of a thousand paper cuts dipped in vinegar, however, weren‘t quite so muted. Somehow, James had managed to sleep through the transition last time.
The cows huddled in the field. They had momentarily lost their targets. It was time to hire some of the best to help them out.

But where in Sam Hill have they gone? Does time travel sickness ever get better? Can they elude Gordon? Can they elude the cows? Do the cows have their own agenda, or are they just really snoopy? Who in the world would they hire? I don’t know. But I guarantee that it will be worth your time to come back. And by guarantee, I mean, at least I will be entertained by the next instalment of:
The Importance of a Good Breakfast.
Same Schlakenheisermandervorsonovichenburger time, same Schlakenheisermandervorsonovichenburger place!