‘Please join the queue.’
‘What?’
‘Join the queue. Or, if you prefer, join the line.’
‘Huh? I know what a queue is. Why is there a queue?’
‘Because there are other people waiting to do the same thing as you, and they arrived before you did.’
‘No need for sarcasm.’
‘Well, you seem to be having trouble with the concept.’
‘No, I don’t think you understand. What I’m doing is really important. I’ve invented a time machine and I’m travelling back to kill Hitler.’
‘Which is what everyone else in the queue is doing.’
‘What? I’m the first person to invent a time machine! There can‘t be anybody else!’
‘In your timeline, maybe. When have you come from?’
‘2143.’
‘About average. Most timelines get time travel in the first half of the 22nd century.’
‘Most timelines?’
‘Oh yes. There are a lot of them.’
‘But Hitler...?’
‘Yes, he’s in most of them. Though sometimes his artistic career takes off and he gets to show in galleries. Much less messy.’
‘But my timeline’s bad! He kills millions! I have a moral duty to kill him and prevent the Holocaust and World War II!’
‘Maybe. Sometimes works, sometimes not.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, history has a flow, like a river. It’s not easy to change the flow.’
‘But I have to try!’
‘Fair point. But all those people in front of you get priority. You just need to wait your turn.’
‘Oh. Where are we, by the way?’
‘The vestibule. Everyone ahead of you in the queue is from a different timeline, but the structure of time – think of it as something like a spider’s web in a vast number of dimensions – it can’t take too much stress or timelines might get confused. Dinosaurs in the Renaissance – that sort of thing. So when too many people try to do the same thing, time itself puts them in a safe place – the vestibule.’
‘So I have to wait?’
‘You do. But it won’t take too long. About a week.’
‘A week! I’ll starve!’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no – time passes here but various parts of physics and biology get paused somehow. I don‘t know the details. But you’ll be fine. Bored, maybe, but OK otherwise.’
‘Is there any way I can jump to the head of the queue?’
‘Try it.’
–
‘Ouch! That hurt!’
‘Time does not like being trifled with. And you’re two places further back now.’
‘What? Two more people wanting to kill Hitler?’
‘It’s a very popular pastime.’
‘I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.’
‘Believe me, this is a very serious job that I have. Now, if you don‘t mind, I have to explain all this to the new arrivals.’
–
‘Hello again. Back for another try?’
‘Er, hello. Yes. My gun malfunctioned. Couldn’t fix it before my time machine yanked me back.’
‘Ah. Have you checked your gun?’
‘Yes. Working perfectly.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
–
‘Let me guess. Another weapon malfunction?’
‘Twice in a row. Really annoying!’
‘And you’ve brought the same gun again? Are you expecting it to work this time?’
‘Obviously.’
‘It won’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Time is very fussy about anachronisms. Try to use a weapon that didn’t exist in the time you’ve arrived at and it won’t work. Also any other devices. That digital watch you’re wearing, for instance.’
‘You could have told me.’
‘Where’s the fun in that? Good luck!’
–
‘Right. I’ve acquired an old revolver from World War I. That‘ll work, won’t it?’
‘Should do. Only one way to find out.’
–
‘Seriously? That gun worked perfectly at home. Are you messing with me?’
‘Not me – time. Tell me, what ammunition did you use?’
‘Standard rounds from a local store.’
‘Manufactured when?’
‘You’re kidding me! I have to have ammo from the right time period as well?’
‘I thought you might have worked that out for yourself.’
–
‘OK – this has to work. Right gun, right bullets. Anything else that I’m missing?’
‘Not as far as I can see.’
‘You’re not having me on?’
‘Nope. Scout’s honour.’
‘OK. Time to save the future.’
–
‘Thought you’d be back.’
‘I put two bullets in his chest and two more in his head. I saw him dead!’
‘Congratulations.’
‘But my timeline was unchanged! I got back, checked the history books – Adolf Hitler, Holocaust, World War II – no difference!’
‘Sounds about right.’
‘What?’
‘Well, killing Hitler is a start, but it’s not everything.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Remember how I told you about the flow of time?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, time has this habit of self-correcting. If you make a big change to your timeline – killing Hitler, in your case – time looks at neighbouring timelines and repairs the one you’ve damaged. It keeps the flow going in the right direction.’
‘Right direction? Millions dead?’
‘Poor choice of words.’
‘So now what? Do I just keep trying?’
‘If you want. Sometimes the repair doesn’t work and you manage to change the timeline.’
–
‘Ha! Did it! Thirty-seven attempts, 37 dead Hitlers – very messy, some of them – but finally no World War II, no Holocaust. I mean, a load of other stuff changed as well, and not all of it good, but on balance...’
‘On balance, yes. Well done. Just one thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Your time machine. Did you ask it to send you back here?’
‘Of course! I had to tell you that it worked!’
‘Hmm. But. You used the ‘Kill Hitler’ setting, didn’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.’
‘Obviously.’
‘But there’s no Hitler to kill any more.’
‘Is that a problem?’
‘Oh no, not in the grand scheme of things. But when you get to the front of the queue this time, there’ll be no destination for you to go to.’
‘So? I just go back. Job done.’
‘How?’
‘Auto return, like always... Oh.’
‘Exactly. Your time machine is/will be/has been – choose your tense – waiting to take you back, but you’ll never be there for it to pick you up.’
‘So?’
‘You’re stuck here. In the vestibule.’
‘Forever?’
‘Not forever – whatever that means. No – each vestibule has room for only one permanent resident, so one of us has to leave. And the rule is “First in, first out”. So I’ll be on my way. I quite fancy somewhere in 23rd century Norway – very trendy, I hear, and fabulous weather. And you – welcome to your new job! I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time!’