25 January 2007, 1517 GMT / Windsor Park Hotel, Washington D.C., USA
“You want me to explain how a quantum tunnel is formed?” Jonathan asked between bites of bagel. He had brought her complimentary continental breakfast back to the room. His own food was from a seperate stash, which appeared in a large cooler outside their room on the first night. Emily was sitting, half-lotus on top of her bedspread, facing Jonathan, as he sat at the too-small table.. Behind her, Jonathan’s bed was unmade. The walls and décor of the room were pale blue and white; contrasting starkly with the dark wood. The blinds were drawn closed. Emily’s hair, now dyed jet-black, fell straight down in front of her shoulders, soaking the sweatshirt that Jonathan had bought for her, along with a small wardrobe of other articles, since she couldn’t go back to her house, and even the outfit that she had been wearing the night of the attack had been covered in blood, dirt, and vomit.
“That’s not it,” she said, “All of this is just so unreal…” She paused, thinking of just how to say what she meant.
“If you need more proof that I’m a time-traveler, I’ve got plenty of ways to show you-“
“No, no.” she cut him off, “I believe you on that,” and she did. As hard as it was for her to accept at first, she now knew that he either really was a time-traveler or he was prescient. She actually felt that time-travel was more likely than visions of the future.
“What then?” Jonathan pushed away the paper plate that had held his bagel, and started pouring part of his carton of milk over his bowl of raisin bran.
“How could my daughter be this important?” she started, “Why is my daughter’s life so much more important than anyone else who would have died that night or any other night? Why does she warrant protection from the future?” Jonathan had brought her a cup of milk from the lobby, which she took to pour over her crisped rice.
“Honestly, Emily, I’m not an expert in the ethics of these things.” He said through a mouthful of bran flakes. “I agree with you: If we can fix something that went badly, we should fix it. We’re time-travelers, and that gives us the power to do lots of things, to right lots of wrongs.
“Our project director is the expert on those kind-of questions, but the way I understand it, the main reason we don’t right wrongs all over the place is because anything we do could have unforeseen consequences later in the timeline. His standard hypothetical argument involves going back and stopping Hitler from becoming one of the worst war criminals in history. If we did that, it might create a vacuum of power that allows someone worse to take over, or it might change the timing of something like the development of the first atomic bomb. If that timing were changed, we could potentially cause a world wide atomic disaster with a much higher death toll than Hitler ever had.”
“So, Hitler’s coming to power might have been a good thing for the world?”
“There’s no way to know without changing it, and by then it might be too late; the more drastic the change, the more likely to have drastic consequences. In fact, most major changes wouldn’t even be possible; especially for me.”
“Why you?”
Jonathan looked down at his bowl, “Because I developed the theories that make time-travel possible.”
“You invented the time-machine?”
He reddened, “Well, I didn’t invent the Quantum Tunnel Generator,” he said, stirring his cereal, “I didn’t even adapt it to allow time travel. I just developed the method to allow physical matter to be transported through the tunnel safely… but that means it wouldn’t have happened without me… So, if anything happens which makes major changes to the timeline, then I might have developed my theories differently, or perhaps someone else would have.”
“Why does that mean you can’t change things?”
“Well, none of that would matter to any other time-traveler, but to me, it’s important, because if I change anything that effects my own past life, even a little, then I will most likely cause a paradox… Which means that the change is impossible, and I cannot make it.”
“What would stop you?” she asked simply.
“I don’t know, neither does anyone else, they just know that something would. The most popular theory is that it would seem to the traveler like a string of bad luck.”
“Bad luck?”
“Yes. Every possibility in the universe exists as an alternate set. The only sets that continue to be a part of the timeline are the sets in which no paradox occurs, therefore, the set we are experiencing must be a set in which no traveler ever succeeds in creating such a paradox.”
“I don’t think I understand that, it seems very technical.”
“Well, that’s just the practical reasons anyway. There are also ethical reasons not to change the timeline.”
“Something about ‘playing god’?” she discerned.
“Something about that, yes. The argument begins: ‘Who are we to decide what is right…’ and goes on from there.”
“So, then why are you trying to save my daughter?”
“Ah, you see,” Jonathan started, “saving your daughter is more like playing police than playing god. I’m trying to stop other travelers from ‘playing god’ themselves.”
“So, what will my daughter do that these men dislike so much?”
“You…You really shouldn’t be told…”
“That’s what you said a week ago, but I think I’ve been really patient, and I think I deserve some explanation of what is going on. Could it really hurt that much for me to know?”
Jonathan took another bit of his breakfast, and seemed to think for a long moment then, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt at this point.”
“Good,” she said, smiling finally, “Is she going to be a powerful judge or something?”
Jonathan seemed to be struggling with what to tell her, “Not exactly… see, it’s not really what she does… It’s more what she is.”
“What she is?” Emily looked confused for a moment, and then comprehension struck her features, “She’s the senator’s daughter…”
“Yes,” Jonathan said, “and while you were having a secret affair, neither of you are married, so he wont end up having a problem claiming the child, and legitimizing your relationship with him. However, that won’t be enough for the voters; he’ll loose the next election, and go back to his job as a lawyer.”
Emily looked stricken, “isn’t there some way I can stop that?”
“No!” Jonathan said abruptly, “You can’t… That’s what the Hindsight League wants. They want to change history by allowing the senator to stay in office.”
“And killing me and my daughter is the best way to do that?” she gasped.
“I don’t know,” Jonathan admitted, “and I don’t know why they want the senator to stay in office. All I know is that they are trying to change it, and it’s my job to stop them.”
“This is all so stupid!” she nearly screamed at him. “This is why I almost died?! This is why I was attacked?! To stop some stupid scandal in the senate!”
She was crying now. She stared at Jonathan with angry, tear-filled eyes. She wanted him to say something. She didn’t know what, but she needed him to say something. He didn’t. He just looked away. He opened his mouth, but only stammered. Frustrated, Emily moved toward the door of the hotel room.
“Wait!” he called out, “Where are you going?”
She was already in the hallway, “This is crazy,” she said through her tears, “I can’t take this!” She kept walking. Jonathan followed her.
“Emily, I’m sorry” he said to her, “I shouldn’t have told you the details… I wasn’t supposed to tell you the details… I just thought-“
“You thought wrong!” she said, more sad than angry now, “look, Jonathan. It’s been a week. Can’t I get out of here for a little while?”
“Where-“ he stammered, “Where would you go? It’s not safe to be out where something could happen to-“ They had just stepped outside, and the cold air surprised both of them.
Emily looked up and down the street, and realized that she knew of a perfect place nearby. “The Zoo, “ she said.
“What?” Jonathan looked confused.
“I want to go to the Zoo, where I can walk around and think. I want to see the Penguins,” She was nearly pleading with him. “It’s just a few blocks down the street from here.”
Jonathan seemed to mull that over for a moment. He looked up at her, “I’ve never seen real penguins before,” he told her.
She smiled then, even laughed a little, and wiped at her eyes with the side of her hand. “I thought perhaps the walruses would be your thing.” She said.
Jonathan reached up to touch his moustache, self-consciously. He joined in her laughter, half-heartedly, “I guess we should go get our coats.”
“I’ll wait here,” she told him. It was cold, especially with her wet hair, but she had been hiding in that hotel room for too long. Now that she was out in the open air, she wanted to stay there. Jonathan went back inside, and Emily looked up at the building. It had been dark when they arrived, so she hadn’t really been able to see it. The light-colored stone and the maroon awnings reminded her of pictures of old European hotels from travel brochures. She suddenly wished that she had visited Paris. She’d wanted to visit Paris since she was a girl, and now all this…
Jonathan returned, wearing his coat, and holding hers out to her. She took it from him, and put it on as they started down the street together. 
Articles RSS