ScienceFiction June 2020: Holiday Contest, prompt 2) "We all know a time machine can't be built. But what if there was a camera invented that allows filming events in the past?

Story word count = 3294

Everything about this felt wrong, starting from the cryptic invitation folded neatly on my pillow to this late-night clandestine meeting. Anxious sensations like red flashing lights and klaxon horns burst into my mind. But I stayed, the money was too tempting. And with it the sponsorship I needed to continue my research that everyone else had dismissed. I no longer could afford to be choosy.

But why did we have to meet in this rundown pub in the middle of the Lincolnshire Wolds? It was a pimple on a beautiful face. The gouged wooden tables, dim cracked light fixtures hanging on linty chains, and threadbare burgundy carpet, created an ambiance best described as old-world gloom. Some time way back in the early twenty-first century it may have been trendy. At least the local ale was good, but it did nothing to still my queasy stomach.

Inside, it was just me and a young bald barkeeper. He wore a striped rugby shirt and looked fit enough to play the game. Peering down at a tablet viewer on the bar with a frown, he seemed to want to be somewhere else. Like me.

I finished my ale and checked the time yet again. I mumbled, "Forget this."

As I rose from my wobbly chair the front door swung open, squealing on rusty hinges. In walked a willowy woman, standing tall like she meant to be here. Her conservative grey dress, low heels, and swept-back dark hair tied up in a tight bun gave her an academic aura, like a trusted librarian. Her eyes scanned the pub interior then locked on to mine. With a slight smile and a nod, she ambled my way.

She pushed up an oversize pair of round glasses on her pert nose. With the easy vision-correction treatments available, who wore glasses anymore? As she drew nearer, a slight flicker gave away their true function: a heads-up display interface. I was probably being recorded.

I stood as she offered a firm handshake, then sat down across from me. She said, "Dr. Stephen Hiler? Please forgive my late arrival. We needed to see if you were followed." She tilted her face. "You were. We took care of it."

I lifted an eyebrow. "We?"

She nodded. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alice Grimm. I am an associate professor of history at Oxford. But for the purposes of our meeting, I represent the New Light Historical Society."

She caught the barkeeper's attention and lifted two fingers. In wordless efficiency, two pints of ale appeared before us. She spoke to the young man. "Give us some privacy, please."

With a dip of his head, the barkeeper gathered up his tablet and disappeared through the swinging wooden door behind the bar. It seemed strange to me that he so readily left the room, leaving customers unseen.

I took a swig of the amber liquid then looked up into her eyes. "Can't say I've heard of that organization."

"I would be concerned if you had. We go to great lengths to keep our existence secret."

"A group that calls itself 'New Light' but keeps hidden? That is suspicious, don't you think?"

"We work behind the scenes, Dr. Hiler. People in power have always defined history in their favor, by omission and or by outright fabrication. The New Light Historical Society traces its origins to the Illuminati, formed in Bavaria in the late eighteenth century. Although, we have none of the elitism or quest for world domination some attribute to them. We seek truth in history and the guidance it may provide for a better future. Which brings us to your research, 'temporal visual imaging' you called it?"

"Yes. Essentially a means to take a picture of the past. I must ask, Dr. Grimm, what is your interest in this technology?"

She dropped her head and looked at me over the top of her glasses. Her eyes narrowed. "We are a historical society, isn't that obvious?"

I averted my eyes. "I suppose so."

She leaned back in her chair and twirled a lock of dark hair that had escaped her bun. "I read your proposal, but I have to admit my knowledge of quantum physics is limited. I thought traveling back in time was impossible. Would you summarize the technology to me?"

This was probably a test. A scientist who cannot explain his science to non-experts did not truly understand it, although, I think she knew more than she let on. I took a swig of ale. "It is true that time travel to the past is impossible, as far as we know. Besides the popular paradoxes, such as going back in time and somehow preventing yourself from ever being born, some interpretations of the laws of thermodynamics forbid it. But the simple explanation is this: the past no longer exists. You cannot go somewhere that does not exist. There is only the now."

She furrowed her brow. "If the past does not exist, then how can you image it?"

"Time is not a fundamental property of the universe, Dr. Grimm, rather it emerges from causality. We see that on the macro scale in the world around us. Time is just how we measure the flow of cause to effect, things that change irreversibly. Historically, we chose easily reproducible phenomena to measure the passage of time, such as the rotation of the Earth, the swing of a pendulum, or the oscillation of a quartz crystal."

I took another drink of ale and looked into her big golden-brown eyes for signs of glazing. I sometimes get far too technical for my audiences, which is why I am not popular at parties, but she seemed to be truly interested.

I continued. "This is still controversial among physicists, but I hold that on the most fundamental level of the universe, that which you might call the fabric of reality, time does not exist. I further theorize that the past imprints itself on the fabric." I leaned forward. "There is an accepted principle in quantum mechanics called the conservation of information, that is, that information is never lost. I leveraged that principle to a deeper level, extracting data from the universe to produce a historical holographic image, essentially a time camera."

"So, theoretically, you could take a picture of any historical event?"

"At the ultimate fulfillment, yes."

"Then what have you accomplished thus far?"

I leaned back, swirling the ale in my half-full glass. "I was able to image the exact past positions of a few Xenon atoms in a vacuum bottle to prove the concept. But to image a historical event on a larger scale would take much more computing power than I have available, several orders of magnitude greater. That is what I require from a research sponsorship."

"An incredible innovation, Dr. Hiler! Why has no one else funded you? We know you have tried."

I sighed and cast my eyes downward. "Nobody else would hear me out. I might as well have hawked a perpetual motion machine."

She flashed a smile, one so genuinely sweet that it warmed me. She leaned forward and peered into my eyes over her glasses. I wonder if she knew how alluring that pose looked. Was she being coy with me?

She said, "Well, our experts were intrigued, but skeptical. If you were to--"

She gasped and her eyes froze wide open. A tingle ran down my spine. Something was happening, something not good.

Alice jumped up. "We have to go. Now!"

I stood up. "What is it?"

She shouted, "Now!"

Alice grabbed my wrist and yanked on my arm, almost dragging me to the front door. I nearly stumbled as my hip glanced off of a table and my leg knocked over a chair. The door slammed hard against the outside wall as she shoved it open. I did my best to keep up as we sprinted into the night, her hand gripping mine. She pointed toward a sleek black car parked away from the building next to a row of tall trees, barely visible in the moonlight. About halfway there, my foot caught on a rock and I tumbled forward, landing face down in the grass. She turned on her heels and reached down for me.

At that moment, the pub exploded.

A loud overhead roar preceded a blinding flash that lighted the trees behind her. Immediately, a deafening boom and shock wave hit. My position, sprawled on the ground, protected me from the bulk of the blast. But, standing before me, she took its full force. Her body flailed as it shoved her back, slamming her down to the lawn. Flaming bits of the building rained down on us.

I crawled to Alice, half in a daze, yelling her name. But I could barely hear my voice over the ringing in my ears. I lifted her head. Her eyes opened, but would not focus, and she let out a breathy moan. At least she was still alive. Trickles of blood ran from her nose and the numerous small cuts across her face and body. As I reached under her, my hand came up painted in red. A spear of rough wood had embedded itself in her side, just below her ribcage. She yelped in pain as I lifted her in my arms, pulling her against my chest.

I knew we could not stay here. My car, parked next to the pub, laid on its side, partially engulfed by the inferno that rose from the old wooden building. I half-limped and half-ran to her car. Nearly out of breath, I shouted, "Open!"

After the gull-wing doors lifted, I placed her as gently as I could in a front seat, then ran around to jump into the other side. I extended my hands but found no steering wheel. This was one of the newer fully automatic self-driving vehicles.

I yelled to the AI auto-pilot, "Get us out of here!"

An electronic voice replied, "Unauthorized user."

I slammed my fists on the indicator panel. "Your user is injured! Initiate whatever emergency protocol you have and get us to a hospital!"

"Confirmed."

The doors closed and the car sped off, kicking up bits of gravel in the driveway until it squealed down the hard-surfaced road. I glanced back. The fire that now fully engulfed the pub, lit up the night.

I turned back to Alice. Her pained whimpers became raspy breaths. She shuddered with a series of weak coughs, then cried out from the pain they caused her. I laid back her seat and tilted back her head, hoping that might ease her labored breathing. A stream of liquid crimson trailed from the wound on her side, dripping down across the seat and to the floor. I dared not remove the piece of wood that impaled her lest the bleeding got worse. Instead, I stuffed my handkerchief into the wound alongside the offending wood. Maybe the pressure would lessen the blood loss.

Her pained eyes pleaded with me, cutting right to my heart. I cupped her cheek. "Stay with me, Alice. We are going to a hospital. Okay?"

She responded with a slight nod and her hand settled on my arm. But within a moment, her eyes drifted closed and her arm slid limp to her side.

The car came to a screeching stop, causing me to lurch forward. A black car had cut us off. A second and third, identical to the first, flanked us to the back and side. Four men in dark suits leaped out and surrounded us, each holding up a weapon. My breath hitched as a feeling of terror rose from my gut.

I pushed the button to raise my door. Breathing hard, I stepped out with my hands held up. In the darkness and the glare of headlights in my eyes, I could not make out the men's faces. I pleaded, "Please! She is badly injured. I have to get her to--"

One of the men fired. An involuntary quaking shook my body and darkness overtook my mind.

*****

Where am I? There is light here. And some kind of beeping sound. My mind drifted in and out of awareness and my head ached. What happened? I should remember. Oh yeah, the exploding pub. And Alice...

My eyes snapped open and I strained to sit up. I called out, "Alice!" A chill overtook me and sparks came to my eyes. My head dropped back down on a pillow.

"Be at ease, Dr. Hiler. You are safe here."

I turned my head. A gray-haired man with a big handlebar mustache stretching across a weathered face looked down on me. His dark eyes had the sparkle of many adventures.

I implored to him, "Dr. Grimm, what happened to her?"

His mustache flexed as the corners of his lips turned up. "She just came out of surgery. The physicians predict a full recovery. You two had quite the adventure."

I took a deep breath and surveyed my surroundings. I laid on a narrow bed with side-rails in a small white room. A monitor of some sort mounted beside me beeped and drew colored lines on a small display. So, this was a hospital room of some sort. Bright sunlight streamed through the partially open blinds on a window. I looked back up at the older man and lifted my eyebrows.

"I'm sure you have many questions, Dr. Hiler." He pushed a button to raise the head of my bed and then poured water into a cup beside me. "I'll begin with the obvious ones first and then we may go from there. Shall we?"

I nodded as he handed me the cup. The cool water was a relief to my dry mouth and scratchy throat.

He pulled a chair to my side and sat down. "First, I must apologize for my associates' over-zealous behavior. They should not have tasered you, nor administered the sedative. I assure you, though, that their motivation was to protect Dr. Grimm.

My name is Angus Holmes, associate director of the New Light Historical Society. It is my honor to finally meet you, Dr. Hiler." He motioned about the room. "You are in a private hospital just outside of Louth. We monitored your interview from afar. The missile was an act of desperation that we did not anticipate. An urgent warning was sent to Dr. Grimm."

I nodded. "I remember that. But why would someone want to kill her?"

"Oh, no, Dr. Hiler. Alice was not the target. You were."

My eyes widened. "Me?"

"Powerful people fear your invention and the truths it may reveal. At first, your proposal was thought a fanciful fantasy, but then some more knowledgeable of the science began to believe it at least plausible. Did you ever wonder why no one else would consider funding your research? Considerable political pressure was applied, behind the curtains you might say, to prevent your continued work." He tilted his head. "But you were much too persistent. I would grant you that, sir."

I felt an indignation rise within me. "Who?"

"Why, Dr. Hiler, the Oligarchs themselves."

Oh, crap. They were the most powerful organization in the world, a collection of cartels and families controlling most of the world's economic output. Although denied, the World Government itself dances under their strings.

Angus continued. "Consider, if you will, what if the historical premise that gave rise to the World Government was shown to be false? The pandemics of 2054 spurred an overwhelming public demand for stronger United Nations oversight, which eventually led to the World Government. But what if they did not occur as widely believed? What if it was not the nations, but the Oligarchs themselves that launched the engineered virus attacks? We believe that is true, but do not have enough evidence to prove it. But now comes along your history camera, if I may call it that."

I threw my head back and clamped shut my eyes. A tingling anxiety rushed through me. How was I so lucky to end up in the middle of a worldwide conspiracy?

I gulped. "Am I still in danger?"

Angus grinned. "It would seem that your body was found burned beyond recognition in the ruins of that pub. Such a tragedy that the life of such a gifted physicist was cut ever so short. They may eventually discover the deception, but by then you will be safely hidden away at a secret research station not far from here."

I took a deep breath as the implications sunk in. "There is no going back, is there."

"I'm afraid not, Dr. Hiler."

I laid my head back on the pillow. "Well then, now I know what the first practical application of the temporal visual imaging technology might be."

A smile widened on Angus' face. "Splendid!"

A knock came to the door. At Angus' beckon, a nurse in blue scrubs entered. Looking at me she said, "Alice Grimm is awake and she requests your presence, sir. May I take you there?"

I smiled. "Yes, I would like that very much." I lifted my bedsheets, then frowned. "But first, perhaps I should put on some clothes."

The nurse led me down a short hallway to the surgical recovery room. The green scrubs she loaned me made me look more like a physician than a physicist. As I walked through the door, Alice's warm smile lifted my heart. She laid in a gurney covered with a white blanket. Monitors with colorful displays flanked her.

I stood beside her and took up her hand, moving aside the IV tube attached to it. "How are you feeling, Alice?"

"Much better now, Dr. Hiler."

I shook my head. "After all we went through, please call me Stephen."

She held up her other arm. I leaned down into the hug and she wrapped her arms around my neck, drawing me in. She whispered in my ear. "You saved my life. Thank you, Stephen."

"Well, it's only fair, you saved my life first." I rose and brushed a lock of dark hair from her face. "Your associate director offered me a job and I accepted. Although I must say, that was the worst interview process I have ever endured."

She laughed, then grimaced from the pain in her side. She tightened her grasp of my hand and lifted her head. "Oh, Stephen! Can you imagine the wonders? To witness the rise of man; see the building of the great Egyptian Pyramids; watch Plato teach philosophy; view the lost Library of Alexandria; see Jesus give the Sermon on the Mount; explore the spread of the Mongolian Empire; and countless other events." She shook her head. "And there are so many historical mysteries that may be solved."

I put a hand to my chin. "Hmm, I am but just the photographer. I would need a partner to help guide the search, perhaps someone with a knowledge of history?" My eyes drifted toward hers and I grinned. "Do you know anyone who might interested?"

Alice grinned back. She waved a hand as high as she could lift it. "Me! Me! I would like to apply for the position."

"To be proper, I would have to do some sort of interview. And I will want to closely review your qualifications."

One side of her mouth lifted into a half-smile and she tilted her head. "Oh, do you? For what kind of position?"

I winked. "That depends on how the interview goes.'

"I know a place. On the outskirts of Louth, there is a beautiful park along the river Lud with a charming cafe. You may interview me there."

I kissed her hand. "Well... okay. As long as it doesn't explode."