The Vanishing Point

By S. L. Black

When you've seen it all, it all starts looking the same. Years of time travel, and worse, tweaking time, has left Lou bone-deep tired. There's nothing left for him, nothing left to discover, and not even his increasingly erratic partner, Maureen, can anchor him anymore. After playing God with time, there's no sense of surprise and novelty left.

And then Lou hears a rumor. It's somewhere between a cautionary tale and a myth at this point, and he can't remember when it started, or how he heard it. But somewhere, far off in the future, there might be The Vanishing Point. And it might be the answer to all his problems.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: Jul 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781094410821

Book preview

The Vanishing Point

It had been a long time since Lou had broken up with anyone, and it was a messier business than he remembered. For one thing, there was so much mucus. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen, but it was safe to say it wasn’t working out quite like he had hoped.

Why? Whywhywhy? Maureen cried.

Lou had walked her over to the old particle accelerator, a long, unusual trip to make without any explanation, so they could have some privacy when he delivered the news. But now she was making such a scene – her knuckles white and pressing into her cheeks, her throat gurgling – that even that wheezing relic of scientific gigantism couldn’t keep her sobs from reaching the other crewmembers. Behind the histrionics, he caught the cold glitter of her intelligent eyes, and he understood that she was hamming it up to heighten his discomfort. He was forced into a thought he’d had so many other times during the early time travel trials: some things never change.

You knew this was coming, he tried to reason.

Which was true. They’d both seen this exact handful of seconds on their second future-projected jump ten years ago. That’s what the crewmembers were actually doing at their stations this very moment: wrangling their recently materialized past selves away from the vision of their future, now present, selves. Greg and Janice would soon succeed in coaxing them back into the Helen and Norman Williamson Time Strings Application Ward, but not before Maureen’s past self would lift her hand halfway to her mouth and say, in a hollow voice, I look mad.

(Time travel wrought strange effects on their vocal chords. The first time Lou saw a brontosaurus, he had turned to Maureen and said, in a voice like a parrot’s on helium, cool.)

But not now, Maureen cried in her normal irate voice and stamped the concrete, Not like this, when we’ve already accomplished so much. When there’s so much left to do? When things have changed?

Lou didn’t know what to say, so he ran his hand along the flank of the goliath machine, then examined the streaks of rust on his gloved fingertips. It was easier to channel his disgust towards the dirt on his fingers, marring the blue of their uniforms. The deep-seated disgust was harder to grapple with; when did it start? Was it more at Maureen or himself? He wiped his glove on his static-free pants, and shook his head. Now that he’d started, he just had to plow through. How long had he been planning this? He couldn’t pinpoint it.

Yes now, he said, feeling childish.