Chronodemic

What can go wrong on the first trip going back in time?

Curious?

If yes, please delve into the flash fiction piece below…

If not, go elsewhere but keep in mind that fiction is the only viable way of time traveling in our era 🙂

CHRONODEMIC by Baris Cansevgisi

Releasing a soundly groan, Marlon opened his eyes on the ground. It was pitch black everywhere at his level of sight, but the guiding faint lights of the distant stars, illuminated the sky making sure the sky was still there. It was amazing! The awe in this sight quickly withered away as small rocks and pebbles started digging into his back, so he rolled on one side and forced himself up, still trying to keep his eyes fixed on the stunning night sky above… unassisted in the faint illumination of the surroundings. It was enough for his eyes to adjust to the dark void he initially thought he’d found himself in.

The journey had really taken its toll on Marlon; alongside the fatigue, the slight back pain and the nausea he was warned about, he felt much more battered than anticipated. His vision was blurry, his right wrist hurt and he shivered uncontrollably for a moment or two, out of chilliness in the air combined with a hint of eerirness he suddenly felt. This was his first journey. He checked the device strapped onto his hurting wrist and got a reading: It was 189 Sol 2019. He was off for 30 years. The device should have sent him a few days prior to the ‘Grand Launch Day’, the very sol to witness his home world getting the kickoff for its colonization– Mars… once called the red planet, was now much greener than Earth in 2103.

Marlon knew he had to wait at least two and a half sols to allow the wearable time travel device to recharge itself to be able to make the jump forward to his time. Then, he would have to recalibrate the device– which was impossible in this time with the technological advancement of the trimmed cavemen here, and make one journey back to the correct time: The Grand Launch Day. At least, delays were never a concern once the concept of time itself is mastered. He could still be at the launch, perhaps even a week in advance to enjoy a little bit more of the past. Not too much though… he knew he should focus more on why he’d come here. It was a matter of life and death!

Marlon was vagabonding in the mostly empty streets when a young woman in her early twenties ran towards him from the opposite side of the street. She stopped and placed her hand onto his shoulder. Feeling uneasy, Marlon was about to take a step back, but he remembered that ancient people tended to touch, use hand gestures and other outdated skills when communicating.

“Are you lost?” the woman asked with a curious look.

Marlon bent his arms back and held them together behind his back before activating the historical translator with a touch to the device. The language hadn’t changed much, but he didn’t want to sound weird by using popular expressions of his time like ‘synthastic’ or ‘benevalous’. He recited the mechanical voice that echoed in his mind: “Nah, I’m alright,” he said, smiling the best he could. “I am exploring!”

“Ok, but you shouldn’t be out… exploring here so late… it’s dangerous you know, where are your -czzzzt-” the woman said after taking her hand off Marlon’s shoulder. The last word she said remained a mystery as the translator crackled in the exact moment by some kind of interference. He was hoping it wasn’t damaged for good. Marlon just pointed to a random direction to stop any upcoming questions from the woman, hoping his answer would satisfy her… whatever her question was. The woman looked towards where Marlon had pointed out and half-satisfied, nodded her head before going on. “Chilly too, you might get sick. Here!” The woman untied her out-of-place denim jacket loosely covering her lower waist and placed it on Marlon’s shoulders.

Marlon nodded, said thanks, smiled again while thinking if he was overdoing it and then started walking in the opposite direction. When he peeked back, he saw the woman on her hand-held communication device. People of this era were weird in every way. But, a good kind of weird.

He wasn’t very far when Marlon heard the approaching sound of sirens– annoying repetitive, high-pitched cacophony! He juggled his mind to remember the use of the horrid audio from history lessons, but his memory failed him… or perhaps it was because history lessons never grabbed his attention. And all this journey was because of that. He was about to fail history class unless he handed in a perfect paper outlining the most significant event in the 21st century. That was surely the Launch Day. Failing history meant a lifetime career of mining asteroids where automation of labor was too expensive. So, indeed it was a matter of life and death for him.

Every educational subject in 2103 had to be taught in its own unique way; astrochemistry lessons took place on satellite labs orbiting Mars with pupils being able to access holographic materials or engage in 4D simulations while history lessons were limited only to teaching through books, an obsolete idea in the form of papers sewn together– no holographic help, no simulations, no incentive for learning. It was believed that the method should suit the subject. And history was best learned with the ancient method! Time travel devices were only assigned to HOES– History Overseer, and Educators, which were only supposed to be used for research solely.

The temperature was dropping fast, so he folded the jacket and carefully placed it on the ground like a divine offering and tapped on the device to initiate the body heat control function. Warm air started surrounding him and he found himself enclosed in an invisible bubble– generating enough heat and trapping it close to the body. Then, something popped up in his mind… something he’d learned in the virology lesson– ancient viruses could make one really sick and that people were practically defenseless against mutating variations. They hadn’t mastered virology in this era and couldn’t possibly know that people of 2098 could breed different viruses in their own bodies to fend off unknown diseases. It was fighting fire with fire. Bred viruses were compartmentalised in their bodies thus not making them sick, but attacked every other foreign organism they came into contact with. It was the perfect coexistence…

Marlon checked the device and to his surprise, the viral defense system was automatically triggered upon his arrival to 2019. The pain in his wrist must have been due to the five needles extending out from the device and digging into his skin to start the colonization of the super virus. He took a deep breath of relief and started walking again.

The sirens were really close now and Marlon decided to stop and wait to see what the fuss was about. In a moment, the street was filled with cars producing the horrid sound. Men with matching uniforms and the woman who had given him the jacket got out of the cars and approached him. The man with the weird facial hair started speaking:

“Hello son, are you okay?”

The man was not Marlon’s father. But, he just nodded anyhow. The woman was now standing next to the man who claimed to be his father. She said, “Is he lost, or is he one of those kids gangs use in this area to lure people?”

“I think he’s lost… the gangs use much older kids, this one here looks ten or eleven at most.” The man bent on his knees to have a better look at Marlon. “Did he tell you where his parents were?” She asked the woman.

The woman raised her finger towards the direction Marlon had pointed out when she first met him.

The fake father looked at the old buildings the woman was pointing towards and shook his head. “Those are abandoned.” Then he turned to the other costumed men and said, “Let’s take him to the station and try to find his parents.” Marlon noticed the costumed strange men were carrying some sort of weaponry on their belts. They didn’t seem to be getting ready to attack, but he couldn’t take the risk. He was defenseless.

Marlon started running. He couldn’t understand why he was to be taken somewhere. He didn’t trust the man either as he first claimed to be his father, then screwed up and told others to find his parents. Ancient people were not good liars. Marlon ran as fast as he could and when he turned a corner, he initiated the cloaking system from the device and instantly he was invisible to the passing men trying to figure out where he went.

The next two sols, Marlon enjoyed the past by eating what they called ice cream– which was strangely not ice nor cream, went to a place called playground, where primitive gym equipment in a smaller scale were populated by kids close to his age. He even made a friend. Todd.

When the two and a half sols passed and the device was recharged, he went back to his time. Disconnected the device and fell asleep in his own time. The past had been adventurous but exhausting. When he woke up the next day, he couldn’t reactivate the device. He was terrified as he wouldn’t be able to visit the Launch Day now. No paper meant instant failure and it was impossible to nick another one. They must have remotely deactivated it he thought. After a panicky sol, Marlon calmed himself down and believed he could write the paper on Launch Day… he hadn’t been there but spending almost three sols in the past helped him to visualise how it could be… crowds, cheers, a rocket launch and live TV coverage… lots of noise. He spent the rest of the sol, inventing a story about the Launch Day.

The next sol, Marlon walked into the class proud of himself and he presented the paper to his HOE. The HOE put his marking spectacles and scanned through his paper before turning to Marlon in disbelief:

“This was supposed to be nonfiction Marlon,” he said looking at him directly in the eye.

Marlon was taken by surprise. His work couldn’t have been immediately identified as fiction as it had real life experiences which couldn’t be felt by reading books unless lived in the era. “It’s not fiction,” he protested.

“You know the most significant event in the 21st century was the pandemic of 2019, the Launch Day you babbled about never happened. It’s good fiction, but still fiction.” The HOE removed his spectacles. “I am afraid you failed, Marlon… I am sorry.”

In an instant, it all dawned on Marlon… he had changed history and thus the future… and not only his future. The Viral Defense system had manufactured a powerful virus to be able to fight off whatever the 21st century threw at him, but it just made him contagious and unaware he spread a deadly disease to people who weren’t ready to control viruses.

If only he could get his hands on another time travel device.

If only it had been invented.

THE END

8 Ways of time travel without a decent time machine…

Everyone who knows me knows how I am obsessed with time travel… and those who don’t – will acknowledge it… in time. By reading this little blog post, you will have the secret of time travel without a decent time machine or no machine at all. Proceed with extreme caution as secrets or time itself are not things to meddle with.

Here are the methods:

If you possess an unstable working prototype of a time machine:

Wear appropriate clothes for your desired destination in time, pee until your bladder dries out, step into the machine, sit, set the desired time and pull the lever or hold and press the small red button by the far end of the console. That’s it!
Same steps as described above… you just pee first, then dress up!

If you DO NOT have a time machine:

1. The Musical Method: If you wish to go to the past, select a year and google the top 100 in that year’s billboards. Close your eyes and play each song starting from the bottom to the top of the list. Hum along if you know the songs! If your intention is to travel into the near future, the same method can help! Just gather up all the cutlery in the house, click on your phone’s voice recorder, and start dropping them one by one onto the kitchen floor. When each piece lands, say what you’ve just seen like “A fork fell down” or “I dropped a knife” in an untrained, monotonous tone (These are essential as they will make up the lyrics). When all the cutlery has been dropped, stop the recorder, plug earphones into your phone, close your eyes, start playing the audio and enjoy!

Too bad music isn’t in its golden years anymore and it’s getting worse. Just compare 60’s, 70’s or even 80’s, 90’s music to the hit songs in our present.

2. The Photo Effect: Just open your photo album (printed photos work best) and inspect each photo in full detail. Think about how old you were, where you were and who you were with. Then, focus on the tiny details in the background, are the surroundings the same? or have they changed? As you go down the memory lane, you will realize that you made a slight jump to the past. If you do not have a photo album, or want to time travel to places you’ve never been, enter a desired year into your favorite search engine’s search box, click on “images” and there… you have millions of photos to start with. If you wish to time travel into the future, enter the word “mugshots” into a search engine’s search box and enjoy (They look like selfies, don’t they?)

Now, 9 out of every 10 photos seem to be selfies and most of them do not even include faces as wholes. Mostly, they are close-ups of an eye here and a mouth there!

3. The Photoshop Dilemma: A very similar method to the one above, but this one requires some photo-shopping skills. Travelling to the past? Find a suitable photo of yourself or have a friend take it on the spot and google for a historical background. Once you find it, just merge the two pictures and presto! You are in a trench in World War II. Going to the future? Find a CGI background using the above method and there you are, picking up alien flowers on Mars!

4. Conundrum of Objects: Find a flea market in your town. Go there preferably on foot. Once you are there, explore each stall in detail, pick up objects, feel their energy. Each object has its own “itstory” (We can’t call it “history”, can we?). Take a deep breath, sniff the air of antiquity. Buy something like an old cassette even if you don’t own a player for it. At least you are in contact with something out of your time. For the future, use your search engine skills to find weird and futuristic object photos. Use a 3D printer, to solidify them.

5. Dream: One of the best ways to travel back or forward in time! Throughout the day, just think about a time and a place and focus on it in your coffee breaks. Your subconscious will get the message. When it’s bedtime, close your eyes and start focusing on what you’ve been focusing on all day. Sleep! When you wake up, you’ll find yourself with pleasant memories (if you can remember your dreams), check the time and discover that you’ve jumped at least a couple of hours forward in time. In some cases, you’ll have -what is seems like- hours of dreaming, but it has only been half-an hour at most. Try lucid dreaming for the best experience…

6. Read: Fortunately, books are abundant nowadays. (Even I, have some free books on the market). If you are a history enthusiast, find a historical novel and get to reading. If you are a sci-fi fan like me, choose an appropriate novel and start reading. In both cases, you’ll be mesmerized into the setting if the book is any good. Relate yourself to any character in the book to maximize the fun!

7. Write: Just like reading, but with a huge advantage! By writing, you create time itself in your stories. You can even find true love in the past or the future, which you have been searching for so long in the present.

8. Watch: Too lazy to read or write? Then, start going through your movie collection. Although stripped off the best parts, most good books are made into films. And strangely enough, this method requires peeing first (as you don’t want an interruption like a bathroom break in the middle of the film), sitting and pressing a button. Anyway, a surround system is a huge plus.

Valencia diaries VIII – A Tribute to its people (Part I)

This blog entry is dedicated to the wonderful people I met during my stay in one of the liveliest cities of the world. So, if you’re looking for an entertaining piece of writing, you may be in the wrong place (unless you’re in it ). Read this at your own risk as it’s highly personal and there will be no refund for your wasted time.
I hereby thank the people below who have touched my heart and will reside there for the rest of my life. ..There’s no particular order in the names below. How could there be? There’s no order in my life:

Roberto (Robin): The joyful owner of the Zakate Café on Blasco Ibaňez Street. He is the living proof that you do not need common language to communicate or even chat.

Vanessa : The merry, fire-haired baker of our favourite coffee shop in Benimaclet. The way she says “Hola!” can make anyone buy an extra bocadillo or two. Serving ten people in limited coffee breaks in relaxed Valencia is not everyone’s cup of tea but she can surprise you by teleporting herself to your table with the coffee you’ve been thinking of but haven’t articulated yet.

Thomas: The friendly German who overruns (Literally). If you see someone running anywhere in the city and you shout his name, the chances are very high that it’s him. His hospitality matches his atlethic skills making him a unique asset to the city.

Alex: Along with Thomas, he may very well be the next German prodigy in athletics in the next Olympic games representing his country in all events. Apart from that, he is a great guide of nightlife and has mastered the Valencian way of drinking beer from the jug while explaining the physics of the whole process.

Carol: An angel who is so kindhearted that makes me wonder if she fell from heaven or just glided down to help people in need, volunteering in everything and not limiting herself only to Valencia. I met her when I had lost my faith in humanity but she literally hugged me back to my senses. Thank you!

Ana: I do not really know her but she was the one who showed me that the world is indeed tiny as she revealed herself to be the best buddy of our course’s secretary. She was the first person I met by coincidence (on my second day) and we already had a common acquaintance and loads to talk about.

Carol’s friends at the beach picnic: I’m ashamed to admit that I do not remember their names but that night they made me feel like one of them. The language barrier turned into dust as we communicated about almost anything from politics to how coffee tasted more delicious if a bean had been consumed and outed by a monkey in Spanglish, Italian and Google translate.

Diego: Pinar’s meet up Diego proved to be a true host even after us arriving 15 minutes late to meet him. Although he had dinner plans with his buddies, he tried to extend our time beyond its limits and introduced us to Ruzafa along with a brief introduction to Spanish politics.

Rafa: A true local of the Mercat central area with a vast knowledge of the city amongst other things. We felt like we had known each other for a very long time. He was full of joy which turned out to be highly contagious.

Victor: Imagine a street artist, a guitarist so talented that he can play local English songs with perfect pronunciation although not being able to speak a single word of English. It was a pity that he was like Cindrella and after 22:30, his glamour had to wear off. The laws prohibited him from carrying on performing his songs after that time but there were no regulations about drunken, shouting tourists stealing the tranquility of the night.

Cavus: When an expat misses home, he looks for a fellow countryman. Well, that had never been the case for me….until that time when we heard Cavus’s (Owner of the kebab restaurant Sofra) voice telling us to sit down and drink Turkish tea. It was so nice to experience Turkish hospitality once more as he offered us the restaurant’s most breezy table (evert time with complimentary tea). We witnessed a life changing event happening in our country together and sat for hours in front of the satellite TV in the restaurant’s kitchen.

Well, next part will be about the rest of the people I met. …soon. …

P.S : You may have noticed that most pictures are missing people (the main theme) but that’s for the readers to find out and experience the people by visiting the places.

Valencia diaries VII – The merry people of the city

What makes a city, a city? Although the unfolding, lengthy beach at the foot of the city helps, it’s not that. The answer is simply its people; the ones living in it and livening it up and giving it a soul.

Imagine a city where people greet their closest friends and strangers they’ve never met in the same fashion; with smiling faces and firm hugs. You can almost touch the sincerity in the air when you hear the musical word “Hola!” exchanged between complete strangers. Try saying it with a sulking face and you’ll discover that you can never do it. The face muscles won’t allow it. Not in Valencia anyway. English is spoken very little to none. Connecting to people with zero aid from language, befriending them with pure emotions, is indeed priceless. The term “language barrier” never exists there. Perhaps, this is because the city houses a mix of cultures; it’s a tiny mosaic from a world map of diverse nations.

On one of my upcoming blog entries, I will describe every single person that has made a positive impact on my life there, not because I don’t want to forget them (which will never happen) but because I want the whole world ( or the people who read my blog) to meet them. (The idea sounds boring for people who don’t know me or them but you can always choose not to read one blog entry) 😉

Valencia diaries VI -The night is young, so are the clubbers

Valencia is a lively city, oozing with people whatever the time might be. In summer, the sun works overtime with its intense heat and light almost until 10 pm, so sons and daughters of the night start showing their faces after 11 pm when the nightlife truly begins. There’s another reason for that; the late dinner times the Spaniards are accustomed to. Most dinners start at 10 and go on until midnight and it’s easier to drink on a full stomach.

The area near the cathedral is one of the popular places, full of pubs and discos. The closing hours differ so more experienced pub goers, hop from one pub to another using their time in the most convenient way.
My first experience was with a bunch of friendly locals. Carol, my lovely couchsurfing contact took us to dinner, to a local Italian restaurant and we had a decent dinner for a very good price. We were ready for the rest of the night and we went to an Irish pub (The Finnegan’s) to meet our German contacts. A little note: Not many people speak English in an Irish pub but still most of the names of drinks are universal! Pointing to bottles or beer taps also works if you can’t remember essential words like “cerveza”. Keep in mind that a caňa is a small beer, tanque is bigger and pinta is a pint. Whatever the size is they all have reasonable prices. There are a lot of gin drinkers in Valencia and no matter what you order, drinks are often accompanied by peanuts or olives.

Next, our new German friends Alex and Thomas took us to a local bar where we got to know about the Valencian way of drinking beer of which we were told took many years to master.

The beer resident jug should finish in one go and the secret is to keep your throat open at all times and let the beer flow down. If your mouth gets full, take a break because we don’t want to drown in the process. In such cases, spitting out always helps.

As the jug went from one hand to another and the beer found its place either inside our stomachs or the ground, it was time to change places.

The next destination was a disco and that’s where we felt like grandfathers and grandmothers, being at least 10 years older than any other person there. Valencia is indeed full of youngsters.

To be continued. …

Valencia diaries V -Malvarosa Beach

The Malvarosa Beach in Valencia is a true gem even for the likes of those who simply hate beaches such as myself. The scorching sun and the persistent sand mixed with salty sea water and my snow white chest had never been attractive for me. But wait, check the photo I took at the top of the page…who can resist such a view and the friendly breeze (not pictured) constantly licking your skin like a lover’s hug (or a lover’s dog). The sand is soft and the beach is wide, making sure it can accommodate as many souls as it can on its barren laps so there’s always a spot on the beach however crowded it is.

Different kinds of music mix with on and off cheering as one encounters dancers, yoga doers and a whole lot of other crazy people (in a nice way) having fun in all imaginable and unimaginable ways. The festival season seems to have arrived but it had never left in the first place.

The latecomer night takes over but the beach people seem unaware. The bathing suits are replaced with elegant but comfy clothes and people gather around picnic tables like roundtable knights in the light of the night. Beers are drawn from sacks, fruit is placed on the tables and friends gather. They chat, eat, drink and laugh maximizing the fun. I feel lucky to be included in such a circle as I feel I belong although I don’t speak a word of Spanish. Thank you friends, thank you Carol! for having me.

Valencia diaries IV – First impressions

Valencia is a floral city and it seems to be the nature is winning the war against concrete in this city. Flowers bloom, plants and trees that are scattered everywhere brings pleasant aromas as well as the needed shade in a burning city. Massive, ancient trees stand like city guards, waving away the heat.

The people are true mediterraneans; they are extra friendly and will do everything they can to help a confused tourist although the language barrier is a serious issue. But when hearts are synced, communication finds its way; smiling is universal.

Food is pretty cheap in the city compared to other European cities. For 2 or 3 Euros you can have a sandwich and good coffee almost anywhere. 2 melons cost 1 euro for God’s sake.

And of course gastronomy. Everything is delicious in the city of great paella. My advice is that eat nothing but lettuce for a week prior to coming here or else you’ll be a few pounds heavier when you get back.

Valencia diaries III –

I have never been a true football fan but I’ve always admired stylish edifices no matter what purpose they serve as they give a city, a lively spirit like the Mestalla stadium in Valencia, home of Valencia FC. Enough of football talk.

My day started in flaming Ankara, continued on planes and airports and finally ended in breezy Valencia. Although the city, lies in the south by the seaside, it didn’t feel disturbingly hot thanks to the trees sheltering the streets from the blazing sun. Ok, now I feel this is becoming rather like small talk. First talking about football and now the weather!

So, let me skip to the interesting bits. What’s the city and it’s people like?

The airport is no bigger than a sizely village square with only a couple of parked planes, which is actually fine because I hate wasting time getting out of the airport. However, the problem is that nobody at the airport seemed to speak English. Not the passport police, not the customs officer who wanted me to explain a bag of medication in my luggage ( like flu medication and vitamin pills…and many more that I had packed as I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to find medication in case I got sick ) or the friendly taxi driver who took me to the city centre. It wasn’t much different in the city either. Only a handful of people spoke English. However, all the people I encountered were friendly and eager to help. It motivated me to learn some basic Spanish. Tomorrow, I’ll try that.

Valencia diaries II – The Scorch Trials…

Scorched-Earth — “The Scorch Trials” – What James actually meant was my world!

I still have 4 more days to physically start my adventure in Valencia, but I am constantly reminded how the weather is going to be there. For the past week, Ankara has been trying to match Valencia in terms of heat. And today, for the first time, my hometown has surpassed my destination in terms of humidity. Valencia is a coastal city…Ankara is landlocked with a couple of crappy, tiny, nearly dried-out lakes. How is it possible that Ankara is more humid? It’s pretty clear that I am being tested…I hate being tested…

My dislike for extreme heat dates back to my infancy when I used to stare at the contents of the open fridge with only my underwear on. As I had never been a person of lightning decisions, I became immune to extreme cold but vulnerable to mild heat right on the spot. I managed to survive until now…

So, in the light (or heat) of my newest discovery, my preparation process for my Valencia trip took a huge detour. Here are the changes:

I am no longer going to pack any clothes!
I’ll be looking for shades, where the sun isn’t felt much in the city instead of chic cafes.
I’ll be writing about my experiences late at night as intense heat cripples my creativity as you can see.

One last thing:

I’d be grateful if anyone who knows the city suggests how to overcome the issue of heat in Valencia. I’m wide open to suggestions!

Valencia Diaries I – Born a nomad…

20141022_173053 — “This is not Valencia….literally”

It might seem odd to start a travel journal back in your hometown, but doesn’t the actual journey start in your mind before you physically move your body to the destination? The excitement you feel, the preparation/planning process, the extensive reading about the secrets of the city and dreaming – that’s when the real journey begins…

In 8 days, I will be travelling to the land of paella and oranges – Valencia, Spain with a colleague to do an intensive CELTA course for a month. Going there a week prior to the course will allow me to discover the city and learn to live like a local – the best part. I’ll post my experience and findings here but before that….let me tell you something.

I’m a nomad… I’ve always been one. My mother used to tell me stories about me, in my infancy, about the times I hadn’t existed (While I was still in her belly). She used to say that I had kicked a lot as if I had been trying to move, change my place in the tiny belly-pod. Travelling; the desire to change places was in my blood. And once again, my blood began to boil…can’t wait!

Barış Cansevgisi

Author

Category: Travel