A story exploring time travel and societal issues in the wake of 9/11. This is chapter 5. See previous posts for chapters 1, 2, 3, and 4.
The Dank Duck was a dive bar underneath a freeway overpass a block from NIS headquarters. T2 had convinced the owner to add good coffee to the menu. Now, he sat sipping said coffee and spacing out. Plato, another Dank Duck regular, joined him at a high table.
"What's new?" asked T2.
"I feel lost and think I might be an alcoholic," said Plato. He started most conversations that way.
"I feel like wars are starting and there's nothing I can do to stop it," said T2. "In Afghanistan, it's to prop up the heroin trade. In Iraq and later Libya, it'll be to preserve the global reserve status of the petrodollar."
"That's what I love about you," said Plato. "Your boundless optimism."
"How's work?" asked T2.
"I call people, they answer my questions, repeat," said Plato. "You're the one with the exciting job."
"Actually, it's mostly very boring, but I like that," said T2. "Why don't you come work for me, and find out for yourself?"
"My wife is my boss right now," said Plato. "The hardest thing I have to do at work is avoid getting her in trouble by being a slacker. You got a position cushier than that?"
"Probably not," said T2. "We work pretty hard."
"I went by your office and peeked in the windows," said Plato. "Swanky."
"Renovations were just finished," said T2. "The new hires and I designed it together. Now they've all got a stake in the project. And it came out nice."
"I saw a table with balls for chairs," recalled Plato.
"To keep meetings short," said T2. "We call longer meetings conferences and hold them at the conference table."
"Naturally," said Plato. "Oh hey, I think I might have found you that doctor you're looking for. At least for prescriptions."
"That's great," said T2, feeling on the brink of immense relief.
"Yeah, here's a card," said Plato, handing over a business card. "Dr Smith."
T2 laughed. "You really are a life saver," he said.
"Just don't get addicted to pills," said Plato.
"No worries," said T2. "All I take is a mood stabilizer."
"Right," said Plato. "I also talked to my friends in the antiwar group for you. But you should really come yourself to talk to them."
"I don't think so," said T2. "COINTELPRO never really died. Ending up on an FBI watch list could be bad for business right now. But I appreciate your passing that information along."
"The group is split over how to take your warnings," said Plato. "Some say it's a trick to keep us from doing demonstrations. The rest are ready to heed your warning and exercise caution."
"Just remember, there are eyes on you," said T2.
"Christ, you're paranoid," laughed Plato. "Should we do egg rolls?"
While they ate, they were joined by Trish, a woman Plato worked with. Plato left shortly thereafter, leaving Trish staring at T2.
"What's up?" asked T2.
"You look exactly like a friend of mine, but older," said Trish.
"I'm Timothy's long lost older brother, T2," said T2.
"You still talk to him?" asked Trish.
"Sometimes," said T2. "He's overseas."
"Cool," said Trish. "So what's your deal, then?"
"I'm behind a conspiracy to fix society after amassing great wealth," said T2. "In other words, I run a tech company."
"Lame," said Trish. "Tell me something that matters."
"For a long time, all I could think about was how to change history," said T2. "Now all I can think about is how to change the future. With information. With art."
"I don't show people my art," said Trish. "Do you show people yours?"
"I've only done one art piece since I came here," said T2. "It's a diagram of the future on twenty canvasses."
"Seriously?" said Trish.
"Here, I have pictures," said T2, showing her pictures on his phone from the future.
"Your camera's a trip," said Trish. "I mean, the art is nice, too."
"The piece hangs on the ceiling above my company's conference table," said T2.
"Please don't start talking about your job," said Trish.
"Okay, how about this," said T2. "Would you consider what's happened politically in this country to be a Neocon coup?"
"Basically, those fuckers," said Trish.
(Feature image from Pixabay.)
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