02
Right Place, Wrong Time


The screen they plastered onto their arms buzzed on both of their wrists.

Emergency Alert
Plane Wreckage 35 Miles Near Los Angeles


“It’s go time.” Alex nudged his girl as he looked into the Film. “That thing has landed. We gotta haul them home.”

“What if they don’t survive this?” She checked the emergency news alert. “No one has said if they had made it.”

“Well, we’ll catch one to the local medical institution to where it was downed. West Point?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

Angel took her tote, checked the house for anomalies, and called for her brother.

“Max, we’re heading out. If you need something to eat, we sealed the ramen on the table.” She looked at the small paper pot lined with foil with a small LED that blinked yellow.

The door slid open as they walked towards it, and Alex raised his hand once they left the front lawn. A Taxi that was surrounded in a halo of its own white light, slowly descended onto the hybrid asphalt in front of them. The door swung open, and the couple made seats for themselves on the padded floor.

“Express to West Point.”

Your fare will be $35.85 since the Taxi will be operating near its maximum speed capacity. 
West Point Intensive Unit in 8.35 miles. Expected arrival in 3 minutes.


His thumb was on his Film the instant the message appeared on the embedded display above the window to the front of the passengers. A green checkmark marked the film confirming it, and the hydraulic doors shut itself. The turbine below it slowly spun up, and as it ascended into the air, began to push itself forward.

“We would love to answer questions, but family members only. I’m Scott Fisher, I will take a few of your questions later.” The responsible staffer warded off the few correspondents that have gathered outside the room with the help of a few of his aides that accompanied him. Those representatives retreated to a row of nearby chairs.

Three men in gray shirts walked up to the staffer. One muttered something into his ear, which he responded by nodding profusely. A second man in the same gray shirt, albeit in a dinner jacket as well, directed the staffer’s attention to a Film he was wearing on his own wrist, and Scott nodded in recognition has the man swiped through a list on it for him to see.

Alex and Angel materialized into the room after the door opened for them. A woman with a list on her arm.

“Name please.”

“This is Alex Fritz,” he moved the finger from himself to his girlfriend. “Angel Vernon, my girlfriend.”

The woman peered behind her for Scott, now relieved of the three men’s release of information. He gave her a slow nod, and the woman, led the pair into the room Scott was guarding.

“You understand who you will be seeing, right?” The woman asked before her thumb was on the sensor next to the backup keyhole to have the door open.

“I believe I know.” Alex reaffirmed the fact that he was supposed to see her.

The woman shot him a look but the door to the room opened.

The girl’s face changed as soon as she saw the two enter.

“Okay, who are these people? Why are they in here?” She stared coldly into a fourth gray-shirted man, sitting next to her bed.

“Miss Ferrule, they will be your hosts. To help you adapt.” The gray man touted back. “I understand being moved eighty years in the future is something that a lot of people can’t accept immediately. But they are willing to help.”

“Who is telling me that this isn’t some blatant joke, some guy who napped me off the plane and doing thought experiments before he put a knife on me?”

“Kayla—“ Luna looked over to the bed to her right. 

“I passed the metal detector at the entrance.” He pointed a thumb at his companion. “So did her.”

Kayla’s steel displeasure softened after she processed the final word in that sentence.

“My name’s Alex,” he walked over, leaned close to the bed, and offered his hand. “My girlfriend Angel.”

It almost looked like the two were pulling her hand to force a handshake. Luna shot Kayla a look, Kayla fumbled a bit before passing attention back to Angel. 

“Why you two?” Luna became curious.

“Well, um, we’re told to come here on an agreement. We will be responsible for you. That’s what it mandated.” Angel exhausted the pseudo-script from her head.

“We have made sure that both of you escape unharmed.” The gray-shirted man gave an update. “Full-brain scan revealed no lasting effects. We checked in both of you with the knowledge that you two had been scanned and had no injuries. The only thing left is to adapt.”

“Well, where the hell are we now?” Kayla became impatient.

“West Point, California. August 17, 2096. We live a few miles from this hospital.” Alex reported. “Have you not seen the ambulance, or the stretcher, or the building?”

“They just knocked me out.”

“We’ll have the honor of introducing you here, then.” Alex looked at his girlfriend. She smiled slightly.

“What about Jerry and— them?” Kayla barely managed the last word as she threw up her arm in frustration.

“You can probably guess.” Angel stared at the floor. “They didn’t come with you. Um, we had to.”

“We’ll make sure everyone you know knew of what happened.” The gray-shirted man stood up. “These two are all yours now. Good luck, Alex. And Angel.”

He left the room, and left two concerned people at the bed staring at the pair standing over them at the end of the bed.

“We can check out right now if both of you would like.”

“Come on,” Alex walked to the door. “We’ll go retrieve the exit papers for you.”

The door moved itself and he left for the desk.