[Das Kitty]

Originally Posted by Jernal

Not if the flow of time is reversed.
(Or the mod is merely making a time honoured pun.)

I thought it was the tablets again

[slavetothegrind]

Things stirring round here again? good.

Return of Antillies, also good.

[Antilles]

The last tendrils of the time vortex unwrapped from his body and Jack Waverly dropped to the ground. After a moment, the mental fog - a frequent peril of time travel - cleared and he was able to survey his surroundings. He stood in a litter-strewn alleyway, jangling carousel music playing nearby.

Munich. Odeonplatz.

Waverly buttoned his loden coat against the frigid air and walked onto the bustling platz. He knew the area well - the smell of wurst wafting from the restaurants, the shrill cry of the paperboys. It was one of a dozen places they always came and after so long, it felt like home.

He bought a newspaper from a nearby urchin and scanned the front page. Die Bayerisch Welt - November 1, 1923. A little early, but he had a target. In one week, Adolf Hitler would make his first attempt to seize power, and Jack Waverly would be there.

"Welcome back," Frau Henkel smiled as he handed her money for a week's bed and board.

Waverly carried his briefcase to the guest room and laid it across the bed. The Bürgerbräukeller, the beer hall where Hitler would launch his attack, was just visible through the dirt-encrusted window. He scowled at it, then began to unpack the bioscanner.

Three days later, the device had yet to return a result. An alarm would sound if its target came close, but so far, it had remained silent.

As Waverly sat for dinner that night, Frau Henkel began to cry. "Mein Herr," she sobbed. "Those brown-shirt ruffians are causing such trouble."

He frowned. "Where?" he asked in German.

"Löwenbräukeller," she replied, wiping away the tears. "My boy Franz is with them."

In the distance, he heard gunfire. The Nazis shouldn't have made their move yet. Something had already changed the flow of time. He ran to his room and retrieved the handgun from his briefcase, then raced back past Frau Henkel and out towards Löwenbräukeller.

On every street, trucks carried burly men in steel helmets and brown uniforms. Sturmabteilung.

The tram left him on a street opposite the smaller beer hall. As he disembarked, his stomach turned. Layers of sandbags obstructed the entrance. Between them, a machine gun - its muzzle facing the street.

As he tried to enter the hall, two guards blocked him.

"Halt!" the older man ordered. "Kampfbund only."

"I don’t recognise you," the other said, examining him. He sneered, lifting Waverly by the lapels. "Smells like another ****ing spy Jew," he spat, and threw him to the ground.

Before Waverly could rise, both men kicked him in the stomach. He rolled back and stumbling to his feet, fled into the crowd.

"Go back to Ottostrasse with your spy friend,” the older man shouted. "It’s our country now."

Waverly pondered this. He made his way to Ottostrasse, and there saw the assassin, alone on a park bench. He was so young, but still - a time criminal.

"Mr. Effram," he said.

His target turned, eyes widening as he recognised a Time Agent.

"I’m sorry," Waverly said in English.

"He k-killed millions," the man stammered.

"The time stream must endure. Hitler must live." It was an ugly truth. "You’ve already caused changes, but they can be undone."

Suddenly, Effram leapt up and ran. They always ran.

Waverly sighed, drew his pistol and fired.

The bullet sent Effram to the ground. Waverly approached the body, knelt and grasped the man's shoulder. He bit down on his own collapsible molar. Slowly, the blue tendrils of the time vortex enveloped their bodies, and after a moment, both men disappeared.

[Das Kitty]

Sam rubbed his palms on his trousers and straightened his lapels before entering the pharmacy. The door chimed, and an elderly man wearing a white jacket and spectacles appeared from a door behind the counter. “How can I be of help?” With trembling fingers, Sam reached into his breast pocket to retrieve a piece of paper. He handed it to the pharmacist and then put both hands on the glass counter to steady himself. The pharmacist read the page and then looked up over his glasses at Sam. “Single dose? It’s easier on the stomach if taken in three lighter doses.”

“The doctor said single would be fine.”

The pharmacist accepted that with a shrug and went back into the room behind the counter. Sam lifted his hands; the glass was fogged with his perspiration. He wiped it quickly with his sleeve then shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. The pharmacist appeared moments later and passed Sam a small bag. “That comes to seventeen credits.” Sam scanned the credit fob, thanked the pharmacist and left.

* * *

It was dark in William’s room, and Sam hadn’t time to waste. He flicked the light switch, sank to his knees and shook the child awake. William blinked in confusion. “Daddy?” Sam lifted his son under the arms and had him sit, then reached down to his ankle to retrieve something from his sock. “I need you to drink this.” He opened the bottle and handed it to William, who sniffed it and screwed his face up. “No, it smells horrible!”

Sam’s face dropped. “I’m sorry.” He took hold of the child’s shoulders, forcing him to lie back and held him down. William struggled as his father poured the contents of the bottle into his mouth and then held his jaw shut until he swallowed. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m so sorry. Daddy just wants you to get better.” He released the sobbing boy and then pulled the covers gently back up over him. Sam started to cry too. “I love you Will, remember that.” He dried the child’s tears with his hands and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the room.

He could still hear William’s sobs as he stood in the hallway and the front door was forced open. Police rushed in, knocked Sam to his knees and cuffed him behind his back. “Samuel Barnes, I am arresting you on suspicion of forgery, willful anachronism and perversion of the time directive...” He dropped his head and said nothing as he was read his rights.

* * *

Sam sat in the interrogation room across from Pete, his now former colleague. Pete stopped the recorder. “Why did you do it Sam? You’ve never broken a rule in your entire career, what made you start now? You know reasons for the anachronism laws—you helped draft them for Christ’s sake. You know what the mandatory sentence is too.” Pete rubbed his eyes roughly.

“For him, Pete. Once I found out there would be a cure some day, I couldn’t let him die, not when I knew I could save him. And when I had access to the machine and the future… He’ll get to grow up now.”

“He won’t have a father.”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “But he’ll live, Pete. Even if I don’t.”

Pete sighed heavily, “Yeah,” and restarted the recorder.

[El Guapo!]

Both really good stories, well written and both excellent concepts.
Antilles' entry edged it for me though. I thought it was a really interesting story and it left me dying to read more.

[pickarooney]

Tough call. This line swung it for me

"...willful anachronism and perversion of the time directive"

[bluewolf]

really liked them both but felt DK's was a nice story in itself and could relate a bit more

[Achillles]

Really tough call, Antilles just shaded it for me though on another day I could easily have went for DK.

[Jernal]

Went for DK's story, both were great but DK's one just tugged more at my heartstrings.

[fona]

Both excellent stories, nicely self contained and well written. But I'm never a fan of stories with kids. Would have prefered a sick wife to a sick child. So Antilles won it for me.

[Rubecula]

That was a great contest and both stories were so good I read them both three times. A tough call for me to make. But the tragedy of Sam and William was the one for me this time. Sorry Antilles your story was wonderful, but DK's just shaded it in my vote for the pull on the heartstrings.

[chicamom]

Both enjoyable stories. I gave it to DK despite deep seated personal preference for dying nazis over dying kids! I like her style, pacey and yet still got time for little details. I like the little details. It was just enough for the 600 words. Antilles' story is intriguing and leaves you wanting more...(never a bad thing!) just felt a little cramped for the word limit.

[marienbad]

two great reads , I just could'nt pick a winner .

[Antilles]

24 hours has passed so congratulations to DK for a comprehensive win!

Am I the only one who pictured Sam, Pete and Jack sitting down for breakfast that morning in the employee canteen?

[Das Kitty]

Thanks folks.

I'm glad I spent so much time on those crimes now. I actually wrote this story over another one in my head because I had the idea of someone being arrested for anachronism, but it took me a while to get them sounding right.

Antilles, that was exactly what I thought. The two stories could easily take place in the same universe. I thought it was gas how we both went with the time crimes.

I loved how yours subverted the "Got time travel? Kill Hitler." trope. You really created a sense of place and time in very few words.