The Traveller

It’s weird to think that I’m actually one hundred days older than my bio record states. Ah yes, my Biological Information File, to give it its proper name, or my BIF that everyone calls it. That infallible record that the government holds which has every piece of data imaginable on everyone; thousands upon thousands of stats, facts, and data points for each and every one of us, some of which we are allowed to know, and most of which we’re not.

It has all the obvious things: name at birth, current name and any alias’, date of birth, sex at birth, current sex, DNA sequence, qualifications, employment history, travel history, known friends and acquaintances etc… all the usual stuff that you’d expect a government to hold. Information can’t be changed, only added to, and the most obvious of this is health, the government is very keen to know the health of the nation. Everyone has a twice yearly full body scan and are screened for every possible disease known to us, and the details go straight into the BIF. The stated idea is to ensure everyone’s health and to spot potential new trends, so as to stamp them out before they take hold in the wider population. And maybe that’s true, or maybe there’s a more sinister reason, who knows? I certainly don’t.

Then there’s all the other stuff; the really serious stuff that we are not allowed to see. There’s plenty of rumours as to what’s in the hidden sectors. All people know is that whenever there’s a negative interaction with the government, it always starts with ‘according to your biological information file’. Data is stored organically, and quantum computing makes analysis all but instant.

One disturbing part of the BIF is the predicted date of death for every individual. It’s based on family history, the data from body scans, even a person’s propensity for accidents. Thousands of data points are collated and crunched, graphs are created and every year a person’s date of death, their ‘DOD’ – they do like their acronyms – is updated the older the person gets. Health is generally better, but the DOD will predict the year of death from old age. Some say that it can even predict the month of the year, and some even say it can predict the week. Death by accidents can’t be predicted, but rumour has it that the likelihood of being murdered can be – none of this information can be accessed, for obvious reasons.

Medical treatments have advanced to the point where pretty much all disease has been either eradicated or brought under control. As such, life expectancy for those of us fortunate not to have an accident or get murdered is now one hundred and thirty years.

>>>>

The project had taken well over two hundred years since the first calculations were conceived back in the late twenty-first century, but everyone has always known that once it was working, the time taken to develop it would be irrelevant.

We made small jumps at first, only a couple of days, but with every jump we got better. Better at location, better at time. Jumping back was always spot on, I arrived back at exactly the same place and exactly the same time as I left, and this was because the corrections to the algorithms that weren’t there when I left, were there when I returned.

I always went, I volunteered, and I was the obvious choice. You see, I had no family, no wife or kids, my parents were long dead, and I had no sisters or brothers and no cousins, at least, no close ones. I had no-one to leave behind if something went wrong and I was stuck there. Or more accurately, I had no-one to leave forward if something went wrong and I got stuck there. And, no, I hadn’t been married with a family that had all died in a horrible accident that I could go back and prevent. No, the work we were doing was so intense that I’d simply never had the time to meet anyone; except for Danika, more on her later.

My name is Adam Isaac, the date is April 23rd in the year 2385, and I have just started a life sentenced with no chance of parole for murder and criminal damage. The door has just been slammed shut on my cell and I am never going to see the outside world again. When sentence was passed, I was told my DOD; I will live to be one hundred and thirty two; I am twenty nine years old, so I am going to be in prison for over a century, but I am okay with that, because it’s what I deserve.

I pleaded guilty to murder because I did it. I killed someone; I knowingly took an iron bar and intentionally beat a man unconscious, then wrapped a wire around his throat, strangled him to death and burned his body. Then I smashed up the lab where I worked, destroying the project that had been my life for over fifteen years. I erased thousands of exabytes of crucial data, destroyed the backup system and shattered the crystal that made it all work. My colleagues all hate me now, and I don’t blame them, I’d be mad if someone else had done what I did and took away everything that I had worked so hard for.

But I couldn’t tell anyone why I had to do it because they’d have just said, well, we can go back and fix it, and maybe we could, but it would just keep happening over and over and over again.

Everyone was angrier with me for destroying the work, rather than the murder: I could have just got thirty years for the murder, but the governments were ticked off to say the least at the amounts of money that had been spent with no chance of salvaging any of the technology or the data, so that’s why I got life. You see, murder is the same as it has always been, it still happens all the time.

Since I’ve been talking to you someone will have been murdered in Britain, and another fifty worldwide. Murder is routine, it’s always existed, technology changes, but human nature stays the same, we’ve all still got our animal side, and it's just that some people can’t control it. Or like me, feel that they have no choice and that the murder is for the greater good.

Everyone thinks about murdering someone at least once in their life, but thankfully, only a tiny percentage go through with it, though with the amount of people that are on the planet, that tiny percentage is still a significant number, and I’m not including war, which we still haven’t shaken our addiction to, despite all the hand wringing and wailing on about the futility of said practice.

The only difference is that now the crimes are solved almost immediately. The BIF is consulted, and cross checked for a history of criminality within the immediate family. Since the discovery of the genes that lead to a propensity for criminal activity, DNA can be used to predict law breaking and names are flagged for future reference. In the case of murder, the BIF of a victim and the BIF of all the likely suspects are cross referenced, and since nearly all murder victims know their killer, a name is generated in a couple of microseconds. Court appearances are a formality.

But that’s not how I ended up in prison. My BIF didn’t predict me, and my victim never had a BIF, he couldn’t possibly have had a BIF.

Did I ever think I would actually murder someone, not only that, but a complete stranger who had literally done nothing to me? Someone I had not even spoken to? Hell no, at least not until two weeks ago. And you sit there with your tea and biscuits, tutting, saying to yourself that murder is always wrong, but ask yourself this, and be honest with yourself, would you willingly kill one person if you knew it would definitely save the lives of over nine billion people? Because that’s what I did.

The plan was that once we’d perfected the techniques, I would go back a few times as an observer only and I would witness horrible events. No matter how hideous the situation I would not prevent accidents or save anyone, and I wouldn’t try to assassinate any of the despots in history, no matter how vile or cruel they were, or how many people I know they would go on to kill. I would not intervene in any situation; it would be hard, as I would undoubtedly see people that I knew were going to die, and die horribly, because if I did, it would change the timeline and who knows what chaos would ensue. My job would be to observe the events that historians argue over so that when I returned, the record could be corrected. Sounds harsh doesn’t it? but the team discussed this many times and we ran endless simulations, and these showed that even by saving a puppy from drowning, the knock-on effects had the potential to bring on global nuclear war.

Speaking of which, let me tell you about the world as it is now. This is the 24th century, and after the near apocalypse of the mid twenty first century when AI almost became self-aware, all the governments of the world got together to agree a set of rules to curtail the dangerous aspects of AI. This was a remarkable task in itself, given all the wars that were raging at the time. But the old adage of ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ came into play, because everyone realised that AI was becoming malicious, and everyone realised that AI was everyone’s enemy.

Why was it malicious? Well here’s just two examples: it learned that humans prefer not to spend money unnecessarily, so it took to turning off life support machines to those that it determined had no chance of recovery. In conflict zones – of which there were many- it would turn off defence systems if it decided that an attack was going to have a less than optimal outcome for the defenders.

Rules were quickly established, and hunter/killer AI was developed to search out and destroy any code the broke the rules. This had to be rapidly deployed before it was fully tested, as AI was about to shut down all the machines used to create it. Fortunately the ‘good’ AI was able to predict a successful outcome.

And no, we still haven’t got rid of nuclear weapons. The world is not the shiny glass and stainless-steel utopia that everyone always hopes the future will be. It’s not all bad, there’s art and culture and for the most part the majority of people are reasonably happy. It’s just that everything’s pretty much the same as it’s always been; there a few people with absurd amounts of wealth; some of those have more money that some countries, and there are vastly more people with absolutely nothing. There are well funded international organisations that try to finally put an end to poverty, but it’s a Sisyphean task, they never have done and never will do.

Though there hasn’t been a major war between the three superpowers for one hundred and fifty years now, oh, and by the three, I mean the western alliance with America and western Europe, albeit with the massively weakened America since Mexico became the dominant economy of the continent. The northeast block is dominated by Russia, again, a shadow of its former self since China took a huge swathe of land in the east. Russia still has its allies in eastern Europe and these form the northeast block. The China/pacific block now includes Australia since the invasion and takeover. And the reason there hasn’t been a war is that we’ve all got quantum computers and we all run the same tactical scenarios, and all come up with the same result: a conflict between any of the two would lead to global destruction. So we all fund proxy wars to test our latest whizzy weapons – just like we always have done.

And here in Britain, we sit around and grumble about how much better it would be if we ran the world like we did five hundred years ago.

Our project is an international effort that was set up to investigate incidents from the past in the hope that we could finally start to learn from our history and not make the same mistakes again.

A series of tests were planned. I would go back to specific times and live an innocuous life, not interacting with anyone and research critical events from world history, then come back and the records would be updated. I would find out who was behind the mob that set fire to the British houses of parliament in 2038. Who really did fire the first shot when the armies of left and right faced each other and started the second American civil war in 2052? The one that lasted until 2087 and took the lives of over five million Americans. And is the man I have called dad all my life really my father, and if so, why do I look nothing like him, and does he really sleep in the spare room because of his snoring?

All of these are important questions.

An experimental data recorder implant in my skull would store everything I saw and heard and would be retrievable once I returned. Once all the technology was proven, it would be used by governments to resolve disputes; a trusted individual that was independent and acceptable to both sides would be send back to whenever an issue occurred to find out what actually happened; the data would be presented to both sides and the conflict resolved before the shooting started. Because despite the hundreds of trillions that had already been spent on the project, it was still cheaper that maintaining armed forces. Yes, we still obsess about money.

We started with a pot of fungus. Sent it back two days, then brought it back after a few seconds. We were excited and it was a ‘spur of the moment thing’ that we just decided to do – we are all young, after all. The chamber had to be hermetically sealed with no windows; Direct observation of the event was deemed to be hazardous. Had we have planned it, then perhaps we could have put a camera in the chamber two days ahead of time – no pun intended - and we could have watched it appear then disappear, but we didn’t, we only thought about on the day of the first test. Yes it was dumb, and yes we are supposed to be scientists, but it was a mistake, a small and insignificant mistake borne of our excitement, but it was a mistake, nevertheless.

We put a camera in and ran the test again; when we switched on the machine and studied the camera feed, nothing appeared to happen, it just sat there, no blinding flash of light, no fading to invisible and coming back. But when Vula checked, it had two days of extra growth. By the way, Vula was our biologist, she was lovely, I liked Vula a lot, not quite as much as Danika, I was madly in love with her. But I’ll never be able to tell Vula that she is only alive because of what I did.

We send back moulds and bacteria next and the same happened with them; two days of growth. We tried a plant next. Vula had set up a growth chamber and selected two identical plants that had been grown next to each other with exactly the same water, nutrients, and light. The plant in we sent back was placed back in the growth chamber and ended up blooming two days earlier than the identical plant kept in identical conditions. We were building up to an animal experiment, but the use of animals in testing had been banned by an international treaty one hundred years ago. Though this project was considered so important, that after extensive checks and even more testing, we were given a special dispensation.

A mouse was sent back and returned with no problems, then a rat that had been trained to perform certain tasks was sent and returned, and it remembered its training. We worked our way through the animals until it was time for me.

The first jump was really strange; I went back ten seconds. It was instant, I felt nothing, I blinked, and suddenly everyone was in different positions in the room, but the critical thing was, could I jump back? and yes I could. Everyone was back where they were when I left, the doctors checked me out and I felt good.

The next jump would be for two minutes, but I would move around in the lab and interact with people and equipment. That jump was really weird, when I returned, everyone remembered talking to me, but I had been out of the room and alone until immediately before the test.

But on analysing the results, we found that the time was not accurate enough, and although I always returned to exactly the same time, sometimes the jump back was two minutes and fifteen seconds, sometimes it was one minute fifty seconds. When the data was extrapolated, it showed that the time could grow exponentially the further back the jump; not good, and we realised that in a long jump back there might be errors when I tried to return.

Then Danika had an idea. Danika was gorgeous, I think I’ve said that I was madly in love with her, and I think she liked me. She never said anything; none of us spoke about personal matters, we were all too focussed on the project, but there were the little things. Whenever we were working together, she would always stand closer to me than was really necessary, and would sometimes touch my arm, and there was the look in her eyes, the look when you know how someone feels about you.

When our part of this project was complete and we’d handed the technology over, I was going to ask her out – yeah, we still have sex in the 24th century. Although the last time I saw Danika she spat in my face and said she hoped I got bone cancer; nobody’s had any form of cancer for over one-hundred and fifty years now, it’s an archaic disease that DNA editing has eliminated, but I looked up bone cancer and yeah, it was horrible. So I guess that even in the unlikely event of me getting out of here, my chances with her are less than zero.

Anyway, Danika came up with a change to the algorithm. I was sent back for ten minutes, everyone left the room, I went to the computer and entered the new code; when I returned, the history of the code had changed, and everyone clearly remembered it being written before I left. I did this a few more times and when we analysed the new results, we found that no matter how far beck the jump, the times were always spot on, not just accurate to the microsecond, but exact, they had to be.

This allowed us to move onto tests that were far more serious; it was time for me to make a much, much longer jump. I was going to go back to the early twenty-first century. We did our research and identified an old, abandoned warehouse, a place where I could stay and not be seen by anyone. I was sent back for days at a time, and all in all I did one hundred days, hence me being one hundred days older than my bio data states. We researched up the correct clothing for the period in case I was seen. But on the last day I bumped into someone.

“Get out of my way,” he shouted rudely. “I’m going to miss the train.”

He shouldn’t have been in the building and was clearly taking a shortcut. It was fleeting, and he walked away quickly, but in that brief moment I got very close to him.

Then the time to return came.

The lab was a wreck, the shiny white and chrome was gone, the instruments were old and battered, the computer was a second-generation device and not the sixth generation that had been running the project when I left. Karl approached me, he was dishevelled and emaciated, then I noticed Danika, her left arm seemed stiff. Her radiant smile had gone, replaced with a weary expression, devoid of hope; deep bags under her eyes told of a lifetime of fear.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

Karl looked at me, astonished. “The bastards broke her arm, don’t you remember?”

I instantly realised that I had changed the timeline and had to come up with something quickly.

“I’m sorry Karl I must have amnesia, I can remember you and Danika, but everything else is… oh God, this is horrible.”

“Random memory loss was foreseen in one of the simulations,” muttered Danika. “You did the calculations that predicted it; the chances were one in millions, but we came up with a solution for it. The sims showed that memory loss was impossible; clearly the fix didn’t work.”

I remembered her as being strong and confident, but her voice was meek and mild, she stood hunched and timid.

“The bastards came in here looking for food, we had some supplies but we wouldn’t tell them where we kept them, so they took her and beat her up in front of us. She begged us not to tell them, but we had to, or they would have killed her.”

Then I noticed one person was missing, someone who was always on hand to check bio-signs after a jump back. “Where’s Vula?” I asked, not knowing if I wanted to hear the answer or not.

Karl’s shoulders dropped and Danika started to cry.

Karl sighed. “They killed her during the first raid.” He looked at me and seemed to get irritated. “How can you not remember that! you brought her body back.”

“I’m sorry Karl, I honestly can’t remember. Please, Karl, tell me what happened, maybe that’ll jog my memory.” I knew that this would be hard for him, but I needed him to believe me, and though it was cruel of me, playing on his emotions would do that.

“They came looking for food one night, Vula was working on her own in the lab when the gang broke in.” His eyes started to well up as the memory of her death came to him. “All we can assume is that she must have told them that we kept our food in a different location to lead them away from the lab.” Tears streamed down his face. “They had tried to force her to tell them where the food was and when it was obvious that she wouldn’t, they killed her out of spite. As soon as we realised she was gone, we all went out to search for her. You found her at the bottom of a cliff, they must have thrown her off. There was a village nearby, they would have gone to that, and she was of no use to them anymore.

“We took to barricading the doors after that and had a rule that no-one was to work on their own.”

“I’m so sorry, I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for all of us, including me.”

Then Karl looked at what I was wearing. “Where did you get those clothes? they look new.”

“I must have had some; I must have done a jump all on my own and took them with me stashing them in the warehouse. I might have needed a change and I couldn’t risk buying any in case it affected the timeline. I’m sorry, I really can’t remember.” It was a feeble excuse, but the best I could come up with on the spot.

“You should not have done that!” he snapped. “You left items there from a different century and that could have caused a time error, but quite apart from that, you know that the crystal is damaged, and now, until we can get more power, we can only send something back; we won’t be able to return it to our time.”

“I’m sorry,” I lied. “I don’t remember anything.”

In a way it was not a lie, I couldn’t remember this because it hadn’t happened in my timeline; I had changed something in the past.

I took Karl by the arms and put on the most anguished expression I could.

“Karl, please I can’t remember. Why is the lab like this? why are you like this?”

Karl sat me down,

“What do you remember?”

“Nothing,” I lied again.

Danika came and sat beside me, she put her good arm around me. “This is going to be hard for you Adam,” she said in the soft voice that I remembered as the trigger for my feelings for her.

“Harder than hearing about Vula being murdered and you being attacked and not remembering any of it?” I said.

She pointed to the walls. “Out there; it’s bad, cruel. In here we can make our own water, but you and Karl have to risk everything to go outside and scavenge for food.”

Karl looked at me strangely, reached over and felt the muscles of my arms. “Why aren’t you all skinny.”

“I must have been to a time when food was plentiful, I must have been there for a while.” It was a bit lame, but again, it was the best I could come up with.

I pointed to the barricades on the door. “Out there, how long had it been like this?”

“Forever! Since the disease!” gasped Danika.

“What disease?”

“The Nosoi virus, it emerged in mid 2022. People who got it were contagious within thirty minutes but appeared healthy and with no inkling that they were infected. In fact the mechanism by which the virus spread was by making people feel fit and well; it also gave them a strong desire to socialise, and the incubation period was three months, plenty of time for multiple contacts. It was almost like the virus had worked out the best routes for transmission. Then suddenly and without any warning, people’s lungs would fill with fluid, and they died within minutes. All over the world, people just dropped dead. Planes crashed as the pilots slumped over the controls, people collapsed in the street, cars crashed. People died faster than they could be treated. In days, tens of thousands were dead in every country in the world. Within weeks it was in the millions, and it took just nine weeks for the first billion to be dead.”

“The first billion?” I gasped in horror, a shock that I didn’t have to fake.

“Yes, the first but not the last, inside a year it was up to three billion and after…” Danika stopped as emotion got to her.

Karl took over. “It was the most infectious disease in all of history; just one speck of moisture from someone’s breath was all it took to transmit the virus. It could live on hard surfaces for twenty-four hours, it spread so far, so fast. Bodies remained infections for days after death, the virus would leach out of the body onto the skin, and it took everyone too long to realise this. The final count was nine billion. Vaccines were useless, the virus mutated in the bodies of infected people faster than vaccines could be developed.

“By 2280 the virus had died out,” He scoffed, “Not enough people left to kill. The global population was down to less than half a million and it still hasn’t recovered to any significant degree. Stores of food ran out, but there are not enough farmers, and the few that were left had their crops either stolen by gangs or eaten by animals; they were not affected by the virus and grew into vast herds that rampaged across the world, devouring everything. But we were very lucky, us three. Our family lines survived.”

By now Danika had calmed down.

“Our ancestors were scientists and managed to complete work on a second-generation quantum computer and used that to start calculations for time travel. They needed to find a way of going back and stopping the virus taking hold, and we have continued that work.”

I zoned out to everything else he said, because I knew what the cause was. It was me. The Nosoi virus emerged in mid 22; it was a highly contagious airborne virus that swept the world but was mild because a similar virus had hit the world a couple of decades before. Because we all had antibodies from the previous infection that were effective against it, all the Nosoi viruses did to us was to cause a mild headache. We still have it, we’re all carriers; it mutates every now and then, but we have excellent vaccination programs that stop it. But clearly not anymore. I infected the man, and maybe my mutation wasn’t enough to kill him.

He must have become a carrier, and it took one hundred years for it to mutate into its deadly form.

Why the name Nosoi? By the end of the twenty-first century, the general public were fed up with the science-y names for diseases, they wanted names, and everyone still loved the Greek gods. Zeus gave Pandora a box and told her not to open it, but she did and let out all the bad stuff. The Nosoi was the spirit of pestilence, so that’s what this virus was called.

With our virus variant, it lays dormant for a several years before emerging. Once symptoms start, a person is contagious within half an hour, but nobody worries about the mutations because a simple nasal spray is all that’s needed to knock it out. There’s a booth on every street corner, we go in there, take the spray, sit in the booth for half an hour while the spray does its job, and then get on with the rest of our day. But back then, nobody had antibodies to it. Mass global travel was at its peak, and if it did lay dormant for years, then the virus would have had time to spread all over the world via transport hubs.

I knew what I had to do; I had to go back and prevent the man from getting on that train.

I faked tiredness and turned to Karl. “This is all too much, I need to sleep, where do I sleep?”

Danika took me by the arm. “I’ll take you to your room, maybe your memory will return tomorrow.”

Karl stayed behind. “I need to shut the system down; I have to find a way of getting more power.”

I waited until was sure everyone was asleep then crept back into the lab; I knew that the secondary backup system used a lot of power. Because of the sheer amount of money put in by various governments, the requirement for a dual backup system was written into law, but the law was not my concern now. Even after doing what I had to do, I had to get back, I couldn’t stay there as I would inevitably alter the timeline again, and worse could happen. I remembered the time of my jump, restarted the machine, and set the control to get me there ten minutes earlier.

The place where I had been staying was some sort of disused garage from a time when fossil fuels were still readily available. I jumped back, quickly gathered what I needed and waited to the side of the doorway where he would soon enter through. I didn’t have to wait long, he walked into the room, and I struck him as hard as I could on the back of the head with a metal bar. He collapsed unconscious on the floor. I knew he wasn’t dead, so I slipped a wire around his throat and pulled it tight, holding it for several minutes, I don’t actually remember exactly how long it took.

When I was sure he was dead, I dragged his body onto a pile of wooden pallet things, tipped fuel over his body and set fire to him, sterilising him. If I was right, then the timeline wouldn’t be altered, the pandemic would be averted, and I would be able to return to my own time. If I was wrong and I wasn’t the cause of the virus outbreak, then I would have murdered someone, and nine billion people would still die.

Time to find out. I pressed the button on the control, and in an instant, I was back in the shiny white lab. Karl was standing looking dapper in his sharp white lab uniform, as he always did, smiling, waiting for me. Danika came running up and put her arms around me; I think that she was letting her feelings for me start to show now the project was nearing completion, but it was all too late.

“You look tired,” said Karl.

“I am,” I lied, I was still in shock over what I had just done.

Vula checked my vital signs, noting that my blood pressure and heart rate were elevated.

“Can we debrief tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Sure, no rush. I’ll let the governments know that they can start their search for suitable candidates.”

I smiled benignly and went to my room, and again I waited until everyone was asleep before going into the lab. I checked the archive and found the report of a man being murdered and his body set on fire; not surprisingly, the murderer was never found. The files on the man were detailed; the first quantum computer was up and running and had shown that time travel was a possibility. He was a senior scientist, and the lone voice of opposition to the idea. He had repeatedly warned of the inherent dangers of time travel but was being ignored. After his death, it had been discovered that he was planning to kill all of the scientists involved.

I sat back, stunned at the realisation; by killing this man, I had prevented some people being killed, but if he had lived, then they would have died, time travel would have never been invented, and I wouldn’t have been the cause of billions of deaths.

I went to the crystal, the gleaming chunk of rock that we all but worshiped. Models predicted a crystal; when it was finally found, time travel was suddenly a reality. A conference took place that required the attendance of the heads of all the world’s governments; and the purpose of this gathering was? To come up with a name for the crystal! After two days of deliberation, they decided on ‘The Time-Stone’, every other name offended someone apparently, and it had to have the hyphen! No doubt the venerated Time-Stone, had been named by some unimaginative government apparatchik who would never get the credit, but then again, who would want that recognition?

The housing was almost like an altar, and I too once worshipped it, but now I despised it. I took a hammer from the lab tool kit and hit it harder than I had hit the man. It shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, I then went to the data storage rooms. The units held liquid packs full of synthetic RNA and data was encoded onto that. A single kilo could hold the all the data generated from everyone on the planet over the course a year; there were thousands of kilos in the facility. The only downside was that each pack had to have a constant, tiny, electrical current flowing through it. I cut the cables that supplied the current and within a minute, the liquid became cloudy and all the data was destroyed. I did the same to both backup systems, everything was gone and impossible to recreate.

I returned to the lab and hooked myself up to the data retrieval terminal, and there I am, murdering someone and burning the body. I knew there was no statute of limitations on murder, so even though it was over two hundred years ago, I went to the nearest police station and handed myself in.

I pled guilty at my trial so that I wouldn’t have to explain why I had done it. And now, as I start day one of my life in prison I am safe in the knowledge that no-one else will ever be able to go back and cause such a disastrous change in the timeline. But a thought has just struck me; it can’t happen again, but how many times has it happened before?

Post Views : 187