The Argument of Constants

By Mikael Aizen

The problem with Traveling is that to change the past, you have to know something. Something that changed your mind, convinced you. Was important enough to Travel for. If you could go back in time and make that thing that happened not happen...then you would have never known or cared in the first place.
You would never have Traveled.

This is The Traveler’s Hypocrisy. More accurately named “The License” because for Travelers, the Hypocrisy is License for depravity. A way to cheat morality and never be caught. License to murder, steal, destroy. Life without consequence. The Hypocrisy means that what is done is done--the past is written...

The Hypocrisy is a lie.

When we travel, we change the past--and the future with it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mikael Aizen
• Release date: Jan 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465740663

Mikael Aizen

Mikael Aizen is the author of Murder Genes. He has been professionally published, but this is his first foray into self-publishing.

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The Argument of Constants

By

Mikael Aizen

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Mikael Aizen

The Argument of Constants

Copyright © 2012 by Mikael Aizen

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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The Argument of Constants

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The problem with Traveling is that to change the past, you have to know something. Something that changed your mind, convinced you. Was important enough to Travel for. If you could go back in time and make that thing that happened not happen...then you would have never known or cared in the first place.

You would never have Traveled.

This is The Traveler’s Hypocrisy. More accurately named The License because for Travelers, the Hypocrisy is License for depravity. A way to cheat morality and never be caught. License to murder, steal, destroy. Life without consequence. The Hypocrisy means that what is done is done--the past is written…

The Hypocrisy is a lie.

When we travel, we change the past--and the future with it.

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We call it the Real and the Unreal. The yellow-green woman in the baggy purple jumpsuit was mocking Taimu, she had to be. Everyone would like to believe that they are Real, more Real than anybody else.  The truth is that they are not.  Not compared to you or me.  The yellow green woman gave Taimu a big toothy grin.  They were white at least, even if they did look like shark teeth.

Taimu's hand hesitated over his wheelchair's control stick. They were on the sidewalk outside his house. He had been getting his mail, as usual, and this weirdly colored woman intercepted him. He stared critically at the woman's skin, it didn't look like paint.  Is this some kind of joke? Taimu asked.

Yellow-green woman laughed like Taimu's question was the joke.  No, yellow-green woman said.  Not at all, she paused.

Bird calls, the cool breeze that shifted through overhead leaves, the yellow-green woman. He had that odd, out of body feeling as the woman's pause becoming an extended, awkward, silence.

Um... Taimu said.

You see, the woman interrupted, most of your reality is not, in fact, Real.  I am a Traveler, she pointed at her jumpsuit, lined with tacky silver frills.  I Travel through the Unreal, looking for things that are Real.  She pointed at Taimu.  You are Real.

Taimu no longer hesitated.  He pushed the control stick forward.  You should move...it or lose it, he finished, trying to make his voice convincing. He made it a habit to be polite to crazy people, just because. But even he had his limits.

Yellow-green woman did not move.  She just stood there until the wheel of Taimu's wheelchair climbed right up her combat boot, whirling in place.  The wheel slipped off, jarring Taimu as it caught sudden traction.

Taimu scowled and maneuvered around the woman.  Don't follow me, Taimu called over his shoulder.

Look at my boot.

The unusual request, and sheer cursed curiosity made Taimu turn, he looked at the boot--it was a boot.

My boot is Real, yellow-green woman said.

That's great.  Really.  I have things to attend to.  I'm busy with real things in my life to worry about.  He didn't have anything to do except watch TV, but that's what you say when certain insane people don't leave you alone.

You should look closely at my boot.  Yellow-green woman had taken it off. She held it out in front of Taimu's face.

It stunk, the kind of stink that you could smell from the other side of the coffee shop. Taimu jerked his head away.

Look, yellow-green woman said.  No scuff marks.

The woman was right.  No scuff marks.  Taimu didn't care.  So what?

"Your wheelchair isn't Real,