Time Traveler: Patient Zero

By Brandon Barrus

Stanley's life is pretty normal. He's got friends, a steady job, and family; what more could he ask for? What could upend the status quo?

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One day, his best friend, his brother Zach, disappears on a mission to cure his chronic, emotionally deadly, depression.

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Stanley embarks on a journey of rumored time travel and matching wits with secret organizations to find Zach, ends up questioning his own sanity along the way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brandon Barrus
• Release date: Apr 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781540110114

Book preview

Preface

I NEVER WANTED TO WRITE a novel. While I enjoyed blogging, writing essays, and exchanging e-mails with friends, the idea of sitting down and hammering out tens of thousands of words on the same topic sounded boring and difficult to me. Novel writing was for starving geniuses, sending manuscript after manuscript to publishers, only to face constant rejection.

Then my wife, Mandi, a talented writer, suggested I participate in NaNoWriMo in October of 2013. I was already aware of the organization, and the yearly event, but had never had much interest in sitting down and writing 50,000 words in just a month. But this time around, I took a few minutes to try and think of an idea for a novel, and was struck with inspiration. Time travel as a literary device is troublesome, as authors like J.K. Rowling know firsthand. But what if all the problems with temporal paradoxes could be resolved by simplifying the concept down to its roots?

Writing 1,667 words a day while holding a full-time job and raising three kids grueling, but at the end of 30 days, Stanley’s story of loyalty and rescue was complete, and the work of rewriting and editing began. Two years later, I find myself ready to publish my first book, something I never thought I’d do, and considering writing a second, something I really never thought I’d do.

I hope you enjoy Time Traveler – Patient Zero. Stanley is waiting for you.

Copyright

EBOOK EDITION COPYRIGHT 2015, and 2018 Brandon Barrus

All Rights reserved

Previous eBook version ISBN 978-1-940498-28-7 (superseded)

About this book

TIME TRAVELER – PATIENT Zero follows an average man, caught up in extraordinary events as he races to save someone he loves from an empty future. The world Stanley lives in is exactly the same as ours in every way, except for one potentially world-altering aspect. The reader will puzzle with Stanley as he fights to grasp the magnitude of what is happening to him, and feel their heart pounding as the stakes get higher and higher with every turn of the page.

Inspirations, Thanks, Dedications

THE BIGGEST REASON this book exists is the encouragement of my wife, Mandi, who has always believed in me, and wouldn’t let go of the idea that I am a writer at heart. Big thanks go to my sister, Amy Barrus, whose excellent editing skills went to making this book the best it could be, and input from Becca Barrus, an author in her own right, was also invaluable.

Another important part of this book’s creation is Steve Jablonsky, the composer of the Ender’s Game movie soundtrack. I listened to it every night while writing, and something about the soaring scope of each track inspired me in ways I can’t really explain. Recognition goes to my father, David Barrus, who always believed I was going to write something great one day. And finally, to my coworker and friend, Nick Mills, for giving me the kick in the pants needed to finally polish and publish the book. His guidance has been invaluable, and without him, Time Traveler – Patient Zero would probably still be sitting on my hard drive at home, unseen by all but a few people.

I dedicate this book to my children, for the incredible things their future holds.

Chapter 1

STANLEY STARED AT HIS computer monitor. His eyes flicked to the bottom left corner of the screen, checking to make sure the final four digits on the date still read 2012. They had read 2012 early that day, and even earlier that month. But still, to be sure, he read the date again.

2012.

Yet, here Stanley was, watching a YouTube video of a man claiming to have been born in the 19th century. While a baby born in 1899 could potentially still be alive in 2012, someone born in the 19th century would have more white hair, and a few more wrinkles, than this guy... this self-proclaimed time traveler, sitting on a folding chair in a black room, lit only by a single overhead light.

"My name is George Ayers. I was born in 1840. In 1860, I met a man who claimed to be able to send people 150 years into the future. Two years later, Robert Crullum fulfilled that promise. I was sick, and the doctors said I wouldn’t live to see the New Year. The coughing was worsening day by day, so at 22, with the promise of an early grave all I had, I accepted an offer to be the first man in the history of the world to live in a time not his own.

And here I am, in 2012. It worked! I can hardly believe it myself! Ayers smiled broadly, eyes wide with excitement.

Ayers continued.

"I know this is a fantastic claim. I was dumbstruck when I suddenly appeared in a New York City I did not recognize. I had no friends, no clothes and no money. I was confused and lost. However, fortune was on my side, and the local police found me soon enough.

"I know to many, I seem insane. But I assure you, I am not!

My illness, which I have been told is named ‘cholera,’ was cured in a few days. I was given some clothes, and a few dollars, thanks to the charity of others. But most of all, I was given the gift of a long, healthy life. And eventually, the few remaining believers in the work of Robert Crullum found me.

Stanley grew more interested as a second individual suddenly appeared on the screen. He looked as sane as Ayers, at least in Stanley’s estimation.

My name is Daniel Orton, and I have been a lifelong believer in the work of Robert Crullum, though I admit my faith had been wavering, due to the tardiness of George, here. Orton let out a chuckle, his eyes twinkling.

Stanley studied the face in front of him. Orton was an older gentleman, maybe in his 60′s. There was no hint of mania in his blue eyes. He spoke clearly and studiously, as though he had rehearsed these words, but there was still a sense of conviction behind them.

"We have the ledger. The record of Crullum’s work. We knew he had sent several people into the future in the spring of 1862, but during these last few months, we had been unable to find anyone claiming to be from the 19th century, no matter how hard we looked.

Until last week, that is, when we found George. Crullum had the idea to develop a system that allowed a traveler to prove his or her true origin. So he asked George to write a code phrase, chosen by George, onto a piece of paper, sealed in an envelope and placed in a safe only George knew the combination to. That safe has been handed down through the generations of followers, and attained almost magical status among us.

Stanley watched as the video shifted to a new location, a warehouse, by the looks of it. A group of people stood clustered around a wooden square table, on which a small safe rested, maybe one cubic foot in size. The group wore no robes or hoods, deflating Stanley’s expectations of what the aforementioned followers would be wearing. Some men wore sweaters and khakis, while some of the women wore jeans and t-shirts. While a few of the older men wore suits, they didn’t appear to be in charge.

George, said a blonde woman in her thirties, Do you recognize this safe?

I do, replied Ayers. Dr. Crullum had me put a code phrase in there and lock it tight.

What is the phrase, George? asked a man in his early twenties.

Ayers looked embarrassed. I chose a few lines from my favorite song, ‘Listen to the Mockingbird.’ I’m sure none of you have even heard of it.

Orton stepped out from behind a larger gentleman. George, no need to be embarrassed. What are the lines?

Ayers recited,

"Listen to the mocking bird,

Listen to the mocking bird,

The mocking bird still singing o’er her grave"

Everyone stood still for a moment, the words hanging in the air.

Without prompting, Ayers stepped towards the table and confidently turned the dial on the old combination lock. Within seconds, the safe door creaked open, revealing a lone sealed envelope.

The group was stunned. No one spoke for several seconds.

Ayers piped up. Do you want me to open the envelope, too?

No, George, that won’t be necessary, said Orton. He stepped forward and gently lifted the envelope out of the safe.

Pulling a letter opener from his coat pocket, Orton slid the long end under the flap and opened the envelope. He removed the paper within, unfolded it, and read it silently. The expression of happiness on his face grew brighter, and he wordlessly turned and held it up to the camera.

There, clearly written in what looked an older style of cursive, were the words

Listen to the mocking bird,

Listen to the mocking bird,

The mocking bird still singing o’er her grave

Stanley raised his eyebrows in spite of himself. Clearly there was an easy explanation for this result: Ayers was an actor, and the whole thing was a setup. They were all actors, every single one of them. It was a hoax, though an interesting one.

The video cut back to Orton, his look of excitement shining through the monitor.

Do you know what this means? he exclaimed. Time travel is real! Man can actually move through time and explore strange new worlds! The implications to science are astounding!

Orton paused a moment to take a breath and straighten his blue suit coat.

I don’t know how this will affect humanity. We still can’t communicate with those we’ve sent into the future and we have no way of sending anyone back in time. But if anyone watching this wants to change their life, or seek adventure, there is now a way.

Stanley thought about the strides mankind had taken in the last 150 years. America had gone from steam engines and a 25 percent infant mortality rate to space travel, smart phones and an average lifespan of 70 to 80 years. Who could say what state the world would be in in 2162? Maybe world peace would be taken for granted. Maybe the lifespan would be 150, or 200 years. And maybe Earth would be a desolate, radiation-scarred wasteland, thanks to a massive nuclear war.

The possibilities were staggering.

Orton continued his speech.

For those interested in taking advantage of what we have to offer, I can tell you only these few things. One, we have preserved Crullum’s technology, and retain the ability to do what he did. Two, this opportunity is only available to those who are truly interested in changing their lives forever. To that end, a $1,000 fee is required to make this journey. And three, once you have decided this is a step you want to take, make it known. We will find you.

And the video abruptly ended. No 900 phone number? Stanley thought. No website? No Kickstarter campaign? If this was a scam to get rich quick, these guys weren’t making it obvious.

Stanley sat back in his chair, the computer screen still showing suggestions of other videos to watch next. At the bottom of the screen, he noted the date the video had been posted, just a couple days previous, and the number of views it had attracted so far: almost 2,000. A modest number, but one that signified that the video was getting some attention. Stanley turned his attention back to the e-mail that had directed him to the video.

Zach, his younger brother, had sent him the link, along with an excited note about the endless possibilities. Stanley knew Zach had been struggling with depression and thoughts of suicide for years, but why was he suddenly attracted to this idea? This insane, impossible idea? Zach had been to doctors, had been on prescription drugs, and had seen therapists. Nothing seemed to help for any length of time, and if Stanley were honest with himself, Zach’s life had been a mess for almost a decade now.

Stanley thought back to how Zach had been before... all this. The trips they’d taken to college football stadiums across the country. How he’d accidentally tipped a waitress at T.G.I. Friday’s 150 dollars instead of 15 thanks to a basic multiplication error, and had gone scrambling back into the restaurant three minutes before closing to try and take it back. How he was always willing to cover a tab or split gas money with a friend, even if he knew the odds of getting paid back were slim.

Stanley looked across the room at the leather couch he’d spent way too many hours on, watching one sporting event or another. The left cushion was Zach’s, though he could be found there less and less frequently these days. In fact, it felt downright wrong to catch a Wednesday night NBA game without his brother yelling insults at the referees as though he could be heard through the television screen.

Stanley felt a mixture of curiosity and concern. There was no way the claims of this Orton were true, right? And even if they were, the idea of leaving everything behind, everyone you know, everything you know, to travel into the distant future was crazy. Stanley let his fingers rest on his keyboard while he thought of how to respond to Zach’s e-mail.

But nothing came. Stanley worked hard to come up with a way to convince Zach to leave all of this alone, but in the end, he failed. There simply wasn’t enough information.

Instead, he tapped out a short response.

Zach,

Thanks for sending me that link. I admit it’s interesting, but please don’t do anything without letting me talk to you first. Please promise me that. I love you.

Stanley

Stanley hit send and checked the time. Almost 11? He had work in less than eight hours, and he knew getting anything less than eight and a half was inviting an afternoon of lethargy. While the work of a patent attorney wasn’t exactly grueling, poring over mind-numbing documentation about the latest and greatest way to peel a potato in his often uncomfortably warm cubicle was potentially disastrous. More than once he’d almost been caught napping by his boss, Bruce, a quiet man who made it very clear that slacking off on the job was highly unacceptable.

So he headed upstairs, to the bed he shared with no one. At 34, his single status earned more than few disapproving looks from relatives at Thanksgiving, but Stanley felt no strong pull to marry, or even engage in a long-term relationship. He had friends, he had family, and that was enough.

Lying in bed, Stanley was just dozing off when the buzz of his smartphone rattling atop his bedside table startled him back to full consciousness. It was an e-mail from Zach.

Stanley,

I’ll wait to talk to you in person, man, but you have to know how amazing this is.

See you tomorrow,

Zach

Satisfied that Zach wouldn’t do anything rash, at least not tonight, Stanley drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 2

STANLEY SAT AT HIS desk, trying to focus on the patent application in front of him. For some reason, the details of an invention designed to extend the life of pencil erasers couldn’t quite match the pull of time travel. He opened a new tab in his browser and typed George Ayers AND Robert Crullum.

Stanley read the link descriptions for the first three, and found one that took him to a site devoted to the topic of time travel and Robert Crullum. Clicking his way to 150years.com, Stanley found a basic message board, with a list of bullet points right on the front page.

Welcome to the Robert Crullum Time Travel Project Online Forum. Here are our ground rules.

1. We are in no way affiliated with Crullum or his close followers. Please don’t ask us how to find them, because if we knew, we wouldn’t be here today.

2. If you are suicidal, please seek help at www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org or the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline by calling 800-273-8255. We are not responsible for the suicides of any members or visitors.

3. Please show respect to other posters. We are believers here, and treat belief with admiration, not scorn.

Stanley leaned forward in his chair and went back to the main forum page. A Thread titled Patient Zero! caught his eye. He clicked it.

Inside was an embedded version of the YouTube video he’d seen the night before. The first comment read:

Here he is, guys! Living, breathing, walking proof that this Crullum stuff