As Bob and I left the office together, he pointed to a series of long and slender rods hanging down from the ceiling between the light fixtures.

"Scientific engineers managed to duplicate the olfactory abilities of dogs," Bob explained. "Once this section of the airport comes online, those sensor rods, commonly known as 'sniffers' by most people, can detect explosives or drugs anywhere in here."

"It's like having an army of K-9 units patrolling the entire place," I marveled. "So, you're protected against explosives, how about other forms of weapons?"

"Do you remember those anti-theft tags in your day?" Bob asked, leading the way out the door and across the paved grounds of the airport.

"Yes," I confirmed.

"We have a new and improved version installed in the barrel of every gun," Bob explained. "They can't be deactivated or removed without compromising the firing ability of the weapon. Any gun passing the sensors at the entrances and exits to the airport triggers an automatic alert."

"Impressive," I praised. "What about knives?"

"Their tags are in the blades," Bob informed me. "Because almost anything can be a weapon in the hands of a lunatic, we've an emergency system in place to counter threats that get past our first lines of defense."

"Like what?" I prompted.

"Our time research has led to the development of numerous inventions," Bob informed me.

We reached his car, parked in a private lot behind the airport terminal building. Metallic red in color, the car had countless angles and chiseled edges. It reminded me of the shape of an arrowhead. Again, I didn't notice any wheels.

"Are all vehicles hover cars?" I asked.

"Yes," Bob confirmed, unlocking the car. Unlike the car I'd seen earlier, these doors didn't open gull-wing style but the entire side of the vehicle pushed out before splitting vertically with half withdrawing to the rear and the other toward the front, allowing unobstructed access to the interior.

Bob and I climbed in, but I was slightly startled when the seat shifted around me automatically for a better fit. The black seats had thin piping of vivid red along their edges, and the color scheme was repeated in the crimson highlights around the car, highlighting door handles, cup holders, and other accessories.

"Hover tech has been beneficial to everyone," Bob continued without pause. "Drivers don't have to buy four tires and a spare for every vehicle they own. Additionally, the government doesn't have to expend the resources to maintain roads, repairing worn or damaged streets as well as clearing them of ice and snow in the winter."

"The hover cars would float right over all of it, even during floods," I concluded.

"Exactly!" Bob agreed, seemingly excited I saw the potential in the new tech. "All the vehicles require is a flat surface clear of debris sticking up in the air. You may also have noticed the car lacks driving controls."

"They were experimenting with automated vehicles in my time," I told him.

"We've completely converted to driverless vehicles," Bob said. He pressed a button on the dashboard before speaking again. "My office in the main building of the Temporal Science Facility, please."

"Understood," a computerized voice answered from hidden speakers.

"Seat belts," Bob instructed, and the two of us buckled into our seats. The moment both of our belts clicked into place, the car took off, speeding away from the airport at tremendous velocity.

"You mentioned time based innovations," I prompted. I was excited to hear and see everything about new technologies.

"Oh yes," Bob remembered. "In the case someone gets past our outer lines of defense, there are temporal fields capable of freezing time inside the airport. Police and emergency services have temporal compensators, allowing them to move about while everything else is paused, responding instantly to any threat."

"Incredible," I marveled.

"Similar devices have been installed in homes," Bob mentioned. "If a fire starts, or a burglar breaks in, the time field activates to pause everything within while the alert is automatically sent to the appropriate emergency services."

"So, it wouldn't matter where police or fire crews were in the city because the situation can't escalate prior to their arrival," I concluded.

"Right," Bob confirmed. "Crime has plummeted to the point of nonexistence. We even have portable time fields we can drop on wildfires to hold them in place while crews extinguish them."

"Astounding," I said. Technological innovations had made tremendous leaps since my day.

"We've also applied temporal science to food," Bob added.

"How so?" I asked.

"Twenty years ago there were canned foods, loaded with salt or other chemicals as preservatives," Bob said. "Time fields allow instant preservation of any food item placed in a properly equipped container. Fruits and vegetables are as fresh as the day they were picked in the field. Time fields also replaced the need to freeze previously prepared foods. Imagine going to the store, buying a pizza, keeping it in your house for a week, but when you take it out of the box, it's the exact same as the moment it came out of the oven."

"You're making me hungry," I answered with a grin.

Bob laughed.

The car arrived at the grounds of the Temporal Science Facility. I leaned forward against the seatbelt for a better view out the windshield. The research complex consisted of several buildings, manicured grounds, tall trees, and wide sidewalks. A few of the glass and metal structures were connected by passageways several floors above ground level. I took note of small, rounded boxes moving slowly across the tended lawns. They reminded me of artificial turtles.

"What are those things?" I questioned, pointing out one of the white boxes.

"Robotic lawnmowers," Bob answered after looking where I was pointing. "They have sensors to detect where the edges of the lawn and obstructions are in relation to their position."

"Is everything in the future automated?" I asked.

"No," Bob denied. "Many things, but not all."

The hover car pulled up in front of one of the towering buildings and powered down, settling on the pavement of the parking lot.

"Come on," Bob encouraged as he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door. "Let me give you a look at the future and where it meets the past."

   ***   

The moment I walked through the front doors, I stopped, standing in stunned amazement. Centered in the lobby with the main stairs flanking it on either side was a Spanish Galleon. An open area in the middle of the floors above allowed room for the sails and rigging.

"Is this the one you rescued?" I asked without really needing an answer.

"This building is new, and we had it constructed around the ship because we thought it a fitting tribute to what we're accomplishing here. What do you think?" Bob asked.

"It's incredible," I told him.

"My office is this way," Bob said while nodding in the appropriate direction.

We climbed the stairs in silence, but I nearly tripped several times as I was more focused on the massive sailing vessel. I'd never seen one up close before, only pictures in books or on the Internet.

Bob's office was small and functional, the rear wall was occupied by a pair of bookcases behind an artificial wood desk. Bob pushed his chair aside, and I paused, slightly puzzled. I saw a book housed in a glass case atop a pedestal. The book and its pedestal were situated inside a niche between the two bookcases. The book itself was titled "Pulled Through Time", and I could clearly see my name on the cover.

"What is this?" I asked.

"This is your book," Bob said slowly.

"I never wrote such a book," I countered.

"You will," Bob assured me. He gestured to one of the pale gray chairs facing his desk. Placing a hand on the palm scanner attached to the pedestal, he deactivated the locks and removed the book, offering it to me for closer inspection.

"When I was a kid, a friend of mine gave me the book as a joke because one of the characters had my name," Bob explained, taking his own seat behind the desk and leaning to his right on the armrest. "It was one of my favorite stories, but as the years went by, and I saw the introduction of hover cars and other technologies, I realized it was something more. This book told me I had a future beyond anything I could've imagined. I'd save countless lives of people I'd never met, and one day, I'd save the life of the man who inspired me to do it."

I couldn't find the words to respond. My mouth opened several times to make the attempt, but I failed to say anything. I wrote science fiction and fantasy stories, and the idea one of them, which I had yet to write, would turn out to be true and partly responsible for shaping the world of the future, it was too much for my brain to process.

"Back at the airport, I mentioned there were ways we give people hope," Bob said softly. "I didn't tell you at the time because I didn't want to spoil the surprise, but your book is one of those ways. Because it will be sent into the past, the people of your time will read it, letting them know the loved ones they've lost haven't actually been lost, merely transported to another place, a better place. Those we rescue can live with the possibility family and friends they left behind may have read your book and been comforted in their absence."

I nodded in understanding as my brain raced to catch up.

"When I realized your story was true," Bob went on, "I memorized every word, preparing for the moment when we would meet."

"So when we first talked, you mispronounced my name on purpose?" I inquired.

"Yes," Bob confirmed. "I had to. It was in the book and a part of history."

"Besides writing this book, what I am supposed to do now?" I asked.

"I was hoping you'd want to stay here and work with us," Bob suggested. "In a way, this whole thing was your idea."

Bob and I shared a chuckle.

"I created stories to live adventures through my characters I could never have myself," I told Bob. "Now, you're offering me the chance to step into a future world of tremendous wonders and help rescue people and bring them forward to enjoy it as well. There couldn't be any other answer. Of course I'll be a part of this!"

"Excellent!" Bob exclaimed. "Let me show you around the place and tell you of all the great things we're going to do in the past, present, and future."

Bob got up from his desk, and I followed him out of the office, still holding the book I had yet to write.

   ***   

In later days, I did document my experience being pulled through time, and Bob opened a portal into the past, sending the book back to my time where it would inspire Bob as a child to build the very time portals we'd used. Thinking about how time flows, turns and loops frequently threatens to twist my mind into a pretzel, but that's beside the point. I've witnessed what is to come, and it's a future worth building, worth striving for. Many may think this story is simply a work of fiction, but you'll know the truth of it in about twenty years.

I'll see you in the future.