Temporal Flux: or Father forgive me!
Nov 10, 2022 12:33:56 GMT -5
Post by Radrook Admin on Nov 10, 2022 12:33:56 GMT -5
Temporal Flux: or Father forgive me!
By Radrook
By Radrook
William Giovanni, a physicist, had been laboring in secrecy, burning the candle at both ends, sacrificing family friends and a social life for his one chance at redemption, his one opportunity to prove them all wrong, and he had finally been remunerated for his efforts.
Today, the machine finally stands majestically on a tripod with its oblong, titanium hull gleaming steel-blue and surrounded by computers and tables littered with solved equations that had rendered temporal paradoxes irrelevant and time-travel possible.
There had been setbacks, of course. Aborted attempts that had almost cost him his life. But throughout it all, there had been the Catholic priest, Father Fiori, and Giovani's friend, Steven Remington who had provided the fellowship needed to keep him sane. It was with Remington alone, however, that William Giovanni partially confided the vague mathematical intricacies of his quest if not the very essence. Steve, in turn, would listen and always offer encouragement.
They had met in college when in their twenties, and although one was a man of science and the other had chosen politics, they had formed a close friendship based on the sole fact that William Giovani liked to talk and Steve Remington seemed to enjoy listening.
"You know Will, I think you have something there my friend!" Steve would always say after hearing William wax melodic about how his invention would revolutionize science and turn the scientific world upside down.
"Thank you Steve, I do appreciate your lending me an ear!" William would respond.
"Not saying I know what the hell all of it is for, but your equations are as sound as Mother Teresa's
voluminous udders!"
Will would cringe at the sacrilegious humor but tried not to let on.
"Always the joker eh Steve?" he’d just say.
"Naaa! But come on Will. Come clean! I m your buddy. What is it
that you are trying to do here all these years in isolation in your basement?"
"You will know once it’s done I assure you my friend. You will be the first to know! Later the entire
world!" Steve would always remain pensively silent for a long while before responding:
"Well, OK! Suit yourself my friend. As for me, I've got a party which I'm sure you'll turn down because
of your work, right?
"I m afraid so Steave. But thanks for the invitation,"
"All work and no play will turn you gray!"
"Perhaps it will but--"
"Whatever, just busting your chops. Don’t let me get in your
way. You do what you have to do and I’ll just boogey!"
Steve had never pretended to be much of an intellectual and
all their conversations ended in that same way.
"You were destined for work and I was destined to enjoy life and boogey!" he'd playfully say and be off to live his own life seemingly unconcerned about the deeper things that William kept telling him about.
Of course, William never revealed the essence of what his work entailed. One, because he thought Steve wouldn’t comprehend the intricacies if he did. The other, because he didn't want Steve gossiping and getting the wrong and dangerous people curious. So he'd only vaguely refer to the equations and the general direction that these were leading. Steve would just respond with what seemed like indifference.
"Oh really? Sounds impressive. Wish you all the best! It's all Greek to me!" he'd always say.
But with Father Fiori, it was a different story. William would only go to see the priest when on the verge of a nervous collapse, and today, despite his ultimate triumph, he needed the spiritual reassurance that only the priest could provide.
With that in mind, he secured the machine with the usual semi-transluscent tarp and locked it behind two solid doors leading to his basement and then headed for the cathedral.
After his confession he would return for what he hoped would be the opus Magnus of his as-yet unheralded career-a trip to the far distant past and a successful return with evidence of a divine hand in creation.
For decades, he had savored the anticipated chagrined looks on all their smug, atheistic, insolent faces as they were shown the irrefutable evidence. Then and only then, would the inevitable dismantling of hitherto unassailable theories crumble like sand castles battered by the waves of unrelenting undeniable truth.
He imagined their irrational hubris crumbling as they slinkered away to lick their festering wounds like whipped dogs in some forlorn kennel keening their outcries to an unsympathetic moon just as they had imagined him doing all these years. Soon they would know and soon they would pay!
As usual, today he had temporarily set aside all mundane thoughts as he entered the Church. After all, the church was a sacred haven he'd always approached with the deep reverence instilled in him by his religiously-devoted parents. Today it would provide him with the fortitude and the clear conscience he needded to succeed. He had been there countless times but had limited himself to non-scientific and to personal problems. But today, it would be vastly different.
As usual he reverently entered and took his seat in the confessional. In the semi-darkness he heard the priest enter and take a seat on the other side of the confessional's partition.
"Father," he immediately said as usual and as required by church tradition, but with a slight personal temporal twist "forgive me for I might be about to sin."
"About to sin in what manner, my son?" Father Fiori responded patiently.
"I am seeking knowledge that perhaps wasn't meant for me or any other human to have in the manner that I am seeking it, Father Fiori.
"What knowledge might that be son-carnal?"
"No father, not carnal, spiritual."
"But the spiritual can be of darkness or of light."
"No Father I seek the light!"
"Then where is the sin, my son?"
"Well, Father, the sin is in the nature of the attempt itself?" William responded nervously, fearing that the Father would agree with him and throw an irrefutable, theological wrench into his plans.
"Is there theft involved my son?" the Father asked patiently.
"Perhaps, in a manner of speaking" Willam responded hesitantly and for the first time in his life feeling the urge to be somewhere else and not at confession.
"I cannot help you my son, unless you are forthright. Confession is only effective if you unburden yourself. If not it will not relieve you of the weight that you are carrying." He heard Father Giovani say in an impatient voice and so decided to come clean.
"Well, Father, I seek to witness the creation of man firsthand!"
There was a long silence from the other side of the confessional partition. Then finally:
"You want to personally behold the creation of mankind at Eden, my son?"
"Yes Father! Yes! And to bring back evidence of its reality!"
"But my son, if mankind were not created, then you would not be here."
"I want to witness it personally! You know Father? In order to refute these atheistic claims!"
"Have you ever heard about saint Thomas the Apostle, my son?"
"The doubter, Father?"
"Yes, William, the doubter. He needed to see in order to believe while the others did not.”
“Now Father, you are getting it all wrong. I already believe.”
“Then why must you need to see, my son? Please explain yourself my son.” the priest impatiently
glanced at his luminescent watch in the penumbra of the confessional.
“ You see, Father, I have build this machine that can transport me back to the exact moment of man's creation. I can film the event and take pictures. I can procure samples, perhaps even retrieve an extinct animal Kind metioned in Genesis, such as the Feline or Equine kind. You know, to offer as evidence once I return.”
Once more there was a deep prolonged silence from the Father’s side of the partition, but this time, there was also what sounded like a scuffle. Giovanni tried to peek through the grating, but it had been hastily covered over. Why had it been covered? Or had it always been that way? He didn’t know. He had never attempted to peek through the confessional grating before, so maybe it had always been that way?
No, he could distinctly remember that light had been filtering through. It had been definitely covered just then to prevent him from looking in.
“Are you OK in there, Father?”
“Everything is under control. Again what was it you were saying?”
William noticed that the voice was similar but somehow different. But maybe it was his imagination. All the stress of the moment could be causing him to imagine things. Sure, that was it. That had to be it, for what else could it be?
“As I said, Father, I have built this machine that can transport me back to the exact moment of man s creation. I can take pictures. Maybe get some samples, of one of the basic kinds of animals mentioned in Genesis as evidence.
“Ever hear of hubris my son?" The voice that sounded like the father but not quite had not referred to him as son and that too made the scientist uneasy feel uneasy. But perhaps it was the partition blockage that was causing the difference in tonal quality.
That was it, of course! The partition blockage! His tired mind and the excitement could have that effect.
"Of course, Father, I have heard of hubris!” Giovani responded nervously."
“You are familiar with the consequences, are you not? "
“Well mythically speaking...”
"No, not mythically, biblically." the voice snapped back angrily.
"Do you recall what happened to that fellow who reached out his hand and touched the Ark of the
Covenant?"
"No I can‘t say I do remember. It s been a long time I attended catechism!"
"He was struck dead on the spot! Do you know why? Eh?"
"No Father, I don't." Now it was he who was William who was glancing at his watch. He had intended a quick confession, but this was going to take four times longer at the pace the priest was going.
"It was because of hubris. He had no Godly authority to touch
the Ark! Only the Levites did! Authority! Keep that word well in
mind son, because where there is no respect for authority there is sinful chaos."
“So what you are saying, Father, is that it constitutes a mortal sin?”
This time, the pause was longer, and there were whisperings in Father's confessional chamber, as if the Father were conversing with someone else in an undertone.
“No my son, that isn’t of any concern.”
“But it is of great concern to me! Will you bless me then, father? Before I embark on this sacred quest?”
“No one can go back in time since time is linear.” The voice said in a rather smug unpriestly manner.
“My equations and experiments prove otherwise, Father!”
"My only concern is with your mental state of health, my son, and not with the feasibility of your supposed invention.
Furthermore, why the hell are you so arrogantly discounting evolution? The Church has long since accepted the possibility that the creator might have used evolution to create mankind and not your outlandish literal version."
“I didn't come here to debate, Father!” Giovani said bitterly, suddenly realizing that he was in the presence of someone not unlike the atheistic, academic adversaries and tormenters he’d known all his life.
“Times have changed my son. We cannot live in the past with its
outdated ideas and superstitions!" the voice said smuggly.
“Now hold on just a second! I am a scientist.”
“I don t doubt that you are a scientist, my son." He heard the priest get up from his seat,
“What I do seriously doubt is in your sanity.”
“And I’m beginning to doubt your qualifications to be a priest!” Giovani said, coming to his feet, exited the confessional and began walking briskly down the semi-dark aisle toward the church front doors.
But before he could reach them, the massive twin oaken suddenly flew open letting in the garish daylight. Silhouetted against that glare, William saw two, tanned, tall, burly men dressed in black suites and wearing dark eyeglasses blocking the way and confidently sauntering toward him in a physically aggressive way. Both were carrying black leather sheathed, lead reinforced batons in their right hand and threateningly slapping them against the palm of their left hands.
This caused William to stop in his tracks. Then, as he turned to look back, William could see the real Father Giovanni sitting on the floor gagged, bleeding from his nose, with hands taped together and his back propped firmly against the confessional door. Next to him, the imposter, who had taken over the confession midway through, was standing and smugly smoking a cigarette as if it were some sacred victory ritual. he was also dressed in black and wore dark eyeglasses as the other two men did. But his blond curly hair looked vaguely familiar.
He couldn’t quite make out the figure, since it was partially
obscured by the cigarette smoke and partially cloaked by shadows but the voice he knew very well.
"How you doing Will?" it said.
"Steve! Steve Remington, is that you?" William asked in a hushed voice.
"Bingo! You got that one right Will." Steve said smugly after
taking another long drag on his cigarette and finally snuffing it out against one plaster breast of the statue of the virgin Mary.
"What are you doing here? What’s this all about, Steve?"
"Well, William, my friend, this is all supposed to be about forgiveness and contrition, now, isn’t it? Well? Isn’t it? And there was your weakness, your desperate need for a clear conscience.
"I don't understand!"
“Well, the bitter truth is that I’v been keeping tabs on, and secretly recording you ever since day one. You know, reporting your jabberings to the atheist egg-heads over at the university who knew all along what you were up to. From the little I was able to gather, they knew what you were working on and were just waiting for you to finish it.”
"I thought you were my friend Steve!”
“Friend?" Steve brazenly thrust his extremely pale face out from the shadow and it was the unfamiliar face of distilled hatred.
“You always considered me your sounding-board and nothing more, didn’t you William? Too stupid to understand and too stupid to worry about ehh?”
“I never meant you any personal harm Steve.” William shouted!”
"There is absolutely no contrition here!”“ Steve suddenly announced as he began pacing the floor back and forth impatiently and gestured towards William.
“Neither will there be any absolution!" Steve said in a voice devoid of all compassion.
“Arrest the bastard and throw this unrepentant sinner in the
brig!” he then bellowed.
"The sniveling traitor was working on a time displacer all this time and trying to keep it a secret." Steve then uttered into his hand-held communicator.
"Good job in keeping him busy at it Steve! This could very well mean
a raise and a promotion." a voice from Steve’s phone responded.
"Yes sir! Always glad to do my duty sir! OK men. Let’s go over and get that finished contraption to NORAD and see what that baby can do for national security. Not to mention the good it will do me in the upcoming elections.” Steve added with a malicious smirk.
Then, the two men, each on one side of William with Steve following close behind, proceeded to slowly lead him up the center aisle. That’s when it suddenly happened. Just before reaching the church doors, all three men stopped dead in their tracks and began clutching at their own throats as if they had been choking, and then they slowly vanished, leaving William standing alone at the Church's entrance with his thumb still firmly pressed against the portable temporal displacer strapped around his waist.
It had been calibrated to affect anyone who might have invaded his personal space and was powered by the time-machine itself at a distance. You see, Giovani’s experiments had revealed that group of ravenously-hungry velociraptors were located at the preprogrammed temporal destination and so he had cunningly set the coordinates in case any interference was made against him that day.
He had also camouflaged his belt to look normal but the nano-circuitry just beneath the thin leather veneer was ready to respond at the slightest touch triggered by his DNA. In short, unbeknown to Steve, Giovani had been packing and Steve and his two buddies had absolutely no clue what the hell had happened when they suddenly found themselves in unfamiar surroundings and the targets of those gigantic, ravenous reptilian beasts we call dinosaurs.
Giovani then calmly sauntered over to the battered priest, un-gagged and untied him, and asked for the continuation of the confession.
“Now, what was it that you were saying before we were rudely interrupted, Father?” he asked, as he helped the shaken, wide-eyed, nervous priest to his unsteady feet.
Today, the machine finally stands majestically on a tripod with its oblong, titanium hull gleaming steel-blue and surrounded by computers and tables littered with solved equations that had rendered temporal paradoxes irrelevant and time-travel possible.
There had been setbacks, of course. Aborted attempts that had almost cost him his life. But throughout it all, there had been the Catholic priest, Father Fiori, and Giovani's friend, Steven Remington who had provided the fellowship needed to keep him sane. It was with Remington alone, however, that William Giovanni partially confided the vague mathematical intricacies of his quest if not the very essence. Steve, in turn, would listen and always offer encouragement.
They had met in college when in their twenties, and although one was a man of science and the other had chosen politics, they had formed a close friendship based on the sole fact that William Giovani liked to talk and Steve Remington seemed to enjoy listening.
"You know Will, I think you have something there my friend!" Steve would always say after hearing William wax melodic about how his invention would revolutionize science and turn the scientific world upside down.
"Thank you Steve, I do appreciate your lending me an ear!" William would respond.
"Not saying I know what the hell all of it is for, but your equations are as sound as Mother Teresa's
voluminous udders!"
Will would cringe at the sacrilegious humor but tried not to let on.
"Always the joker eh Steve?" he’d just say.
"Naaa! But come on Will. Come clean! I m your buddy. What is it
that you are trying to do here all these years in isolation in your basement?"
"You will know once it’s done I assure you my friend. You will be the first to know! Later the entire
world!" Steve would always remain pensively silent for a long while before responding:
"Well, OK! Suit yourself my friend. As for me, I've got a party which I'm sure you'll turn down because
of your work, right?
"I m afraid so Steave. But thanks for the invitation,"
"All work and no play will turn you gray!"
"Perhaps it will but--"
"Whatever, just busting your chops. Don’t let me get in your
way. You do what you have to do and I’ll just boogey!"
Steve had never pretended to be much of an intellectual and
all their conversations ended in that same way.
"You were destined for work and I was destined to enjoy life and boogey!" he'd playfully say and be off to live his own life seemingly unconcerned about the deeper things that William kept telling him about.
Of course, William never revealed the essence of what his work entailed. One, because he thought Steve wouldn’t comprehend the intricacies if he did. The other, because he didn't want Steve gossiping and getting the wrong and dangerous people curious. So he'd only vaguely refer to the equations and the general direction that these were leading. Steve would just respond with what seemed like indifference.
"Oh really? Sounds impressive. Wish you all the best! It's all Greek to me!" he'd always say.
But with Father Fiori, it was a different story. William would only go to see the priest when on the verge of a nervous collapse, and today, despite his ultimate triumph, he needed the spiritual reassurance that only the priest could provide.
With that in mind, he secured the machine with the usual semi-transluscent tarp and locked it behind two solid doors leading to his basement and then headed for the cathedral.
After his confession he would return for what he hoped would be the opus Magnus of his as-yet unheralded career-a trip to the far distant past and a successful return with evidence of a divine hand in creation.
For decades, he had savored the anticipated chagrined looks on all their smug, atheistic, insolent faces as they were shown the irrefutable evidence. Then and only then, would the inevitable dismantling of hitherto unassailable theories crumble like sand castles battered by the waves of unrelenting undeniable truth.
He imagined their irrational hubris crumbling as they slinkered away to lick their festering wounds like whipped dogs in some forlorn kennel keening their outcries to an unsympathetic moon just as they had imagined him doing all these years. Soon they would know and soon they would pay!
As usual, today he had temporarily set aside all mundane thoughts as he entered the Church. After all, the church was a sacred haven he'd always approached with the deep reverence instilled in him by his religiously-devoted parents. Today it would provide him with the fortitude and the clear conscience he needded to succeed. He had been there countless times but had limited himself to non-scientific and to personal problems. But today, it would be vastly different.
As usual he reverently entered and took his seat in the confessional. In the semi-darkness he heard the priest enter and take a seat on the other side of the confessional's partition.
"Father," he immediately said as usual and as required by church tradition, but with a slight personal temporal twist "forgive me for I might be about to sin."
"About to sin in what manner, my son?" Father Fiori responded patiently.
"I am seeking knowledge that perhaps wasn't meant for me or any other human to have in the manner that I am seeking it, Father Fiori.
"What knowledge might that be son-carnal?"
"No father, not carnal, spiritual."
"But the spiritual can be of darkness or of light."
"No Father I seek the light!"
"Then where is the sin, my son?"
"Well, Father, the sin is in the nature of the attempt itself?" William responded nervously, fearing that the Father would agree with him and throw an irrefutable, theological wrench into his plans.
"Is there theft involved my son?" the Father asked patiently.
"Perhaps, in a manner of speaking" Willam responded hesitantly and for the first time in his life feeling the urge to be somewhere else and not at confession.
"I cannot help you my son, unless you are forthright. Confession is only effective if you unburden yourself. If not it will not relieve you of the weight that you are carrying." He heard Father Giovani say in an impatient voice and so decided to come clean.
"Well, Father, I seek to witness the creation of man firsthand!"
There was a long silence from the other side of the confessional partition. Then finally:
"You want to personally behold the creation of mankind at Eden, my son?"
"Yes Father! Yes! And to bring back evidence of its reality!"
"But my son, if mankind were not created, then you would not be here."
"I want to witness it personally! You know Father? In order to refute these atheistic claims!"
"Have you ever heard about saint Thomas the Apostle, my son?"
"The doubter, Father?"
"Yes, William, the doubter. He needed to see in order to believe while the others did not.”
“Now Father, you are getting it all wrong. I already believe.”
“Then why must you need to see, my son? Please explain yourself my son.” the priest impatiently
glanced at his luminescent watch in the penumbra of the confessional.
“ You see, Father, I have build this machine that can transport me back to the exact moment of man's creation. I can film the event and take pictures. I can procure samples, perhaps even retrieve an extinct animal Kind metioned in Genesis, such as the Feline or Equine kind. You know, to offer as evidence once I return.”
Once more there was a deep prolonged silence from the Father’s side of the partition, but this time, there was also what sounded like a scuffle. Giovanni tried to peek through the grating, but it had been hastily covered over. Why had it been covered? Or had it always been that way? He didn’t know. He had never attempted to peek through the confessional grating before, so maybe it had always been that way?
No, he could distinctly remember that light had been filtering through. It had been definitely covered just then to prevent him from looking in.
“Are you OK in there, Father?”
“Everything is under control. Again what was it you were saying?”
William noticed that the voice was similar but somehow different. But maybe it was his imagination. All the stress of the moment could be causing him to imagine things. Sure, that was it. That had to be it, for what else could it be?
“As I said, Father, I have built this machine that can transport me back to the exact moment of man s creation. I can take pictures. Maybe get some samples, of one of the basic kinds of animals mentioned in Genesis as evidence.
“Ever hear of hubris my son?" The voice that sounded like the father but not quite had not referred to him as son and that too made the scientist uneasy feel uneasy. But perhaps it was the partition blockage that was causing the difference in tonal quality.
That was it, of course! The partition blockage! His tired mind and the excitement could have that effect.
"Of course, Father, I have heard of hubris!” Giovani responded nervously."
“You are familiar with the consequences, are you not? "
“Well mythically speaking...”
"No, not mythically, biblically." the voice snapped back angrily.
"Do you recall what happened to that fellow who reached out his hand and touched the Ark of the
Covenant?"
"No I can‘t say I do remember. It s been a long time I attended catechism!"
"He was struck dead on the spot! Do you know why? Eh?"
"No Father, I don't." Now it was he who was William who was glancing at his watch. He had intended a quick confession, but this was going to take four times longer at the pace the priest was going.
"It was because of hubris. He had no Godly authority to touch
the Ark! Only the Levites did! Authority! Keep that word well in
mind son, because where there is no respect for authority there is sinful chaos."
“So what you are saying, Father, is that it constitutes a mortal sin?”
This time, the pause was longer, and there were whisperings in Father's confessional chamber, as if the Father were conversing with someone else in an undertone.
“No my son, that isn’t of any concern.”
“But it is of great concern to me! Will you bless me then, father? Before I embark on this sacred quest?”
“No one can go back in time since time is linear.” The voice said in a rather smug unpriestly manner.
“My equations and experiments prove otherwise, Father!”
"My only concern is with your mental state of health, my son, and not with the feasibility of your supposed invention.
Furthermore, why the hell are you so arrogantly discounting evolution? The Church has long since accepted the possibility that the creator might have used evolution to create mankind and not your outlandish literal version."
“I didn't come here to debate, Father!” Giovani said bitterly, suddenly realizing that he was in the presence of someone not unlike the atheistic, academic adversaries and tormenters he’d known all his life.
“Times have changed my son. We cannot live in the past with its
outdated ideas and superstitions!" the voice said smuggly.
“Now hold on just a second! I am a scientist.”
“I don t doubt that you are a scientist, my son." He heard the priest get up from his seat,
“What I do seriously doubt is in your sanity.”
“And I’m beginning to doubt your qualifications to be a priest!” Giovani said, coming to his feet, exited the confessional and began walking briskly down the semi-dark aisle toward the church front doors.
But before he could reach them, the massive twin oaken suddenly flew open letting in the garish daylight. Silhouetted against that glare, William saw two, tanned, tall, burly men dressed in black suites and wearing dark eyeglasses blocking the way and confidently sauntering toward him in a physically aggressive way. Both were carrying black leather sheathed, lead reinforced batons in their right hand and threateningly slapping them against the palm of their left hands.
This caused William to stop in his tracks. Then, as he turned to look back, William could see the real Father Giovanni sitting on the floor gagged, bleeding from his nose, with hands taped together and his back propped firmly against the confessional door. Next to him, the imposter, who had taken over the confession midway through, was standing and smugly smoking a cigarette as if it were some sacred victory ritual. he was also dressed in black and wore dark eyeglasses as the other two men did. But his blond curly hair looked vaguely familiar.
He couldn’t quite make out the figure, since it was partially
obscured by the cigarette smoke and partially cloaked by shadows but the voice he knew very well.
"How you doing Will?" it said.
"Steve! Steve Remington, is that you?" William asked in a hushed voice.
"Bingo! You got that one right Will." Steve said smugly after
taking another long drag on his cigarette and finally snuffing it out against one plaster breast of the statue of the virgin Mary.
"What are you doing here? What’s this all about, Steve?"
"Well, William, my friend, this is all supposed to be about forgiveness and contrition, now, isn’t it? Well? Isn’t it? And there was your weakness, your desperate need for a clear conscience.
"I don't understand!"
“Well, the bitter truth is that I’v been keeping tabs on, and secretly recording you ever since day one. You know, reporting your jabberings to the atheist egg-heads over at the university who knew all along what you were up to. From the little I was able to gather, they knew what you were working on and were just waiting for you to finish it.”
"I thought you were my friend Steve!”
“Friend?" Steve brazenly thrust his extremely pale face out from the shadow and it was the unfamiliar face of distilled hatred.
“You always considered me your sounding-board and nothing more, didn’t you William? Too stupid to understand and too stupid to worry about ehh?”
“I never meant you any personal harm Steve.” William shouted!”
"There is absolutely no contrition here!”“ Steve suddenly announced as he began pacing the floor back and forth impatiently and gestured towards William.
“Neither will there be any absolution!" Steve said in a voice devoid of all compassion.
“Arrest the bastard and throw this unrepentant sinner in the
brig!” he then bellowed.
"The sniveling traitor was working on a time displacer all this time and trying to keep it a secret." Steve then uttered into his hand-held communicator.
"Good job in keeping him busy at it Steve! This could very well mean
a raise and a promotion." a voice from Steve’s phone responded.
"Yes sir! Always glad to do my duty sir! OK men. Let’s go over and get that finished contraption to NORAD and see what that baby can do for national security. Not to mention the good it will do me in the upcoming elections.” Steve added with a malicious smirk.
Then, the two men, each on one side of William with Steve following close behind, proceeded to slowly lead him up the center aisle. That’s when it suddenly happened. Just before reaching the church doors, all three men stopped dead in their tracks and began clutching at their own throats as if they had been choking, and then they slowly vanished, leaving William standing alone at the Church's entrance with his thumb still firmly pressed against the portable temporal displacer strapped around his waist.
It had been calibrated to affect anyone who might have invaded his personal space and was powered by the time-machine itself at a distance. You see, Giovani’s experiments had revealed that group of ravenously-hungry velociraptors were located at the preprogrammed temporal destination and so he had cunningly set the coordinates in case any interference was made against him that day.
He had also camouflaged his belt to look normal but the nano-circuitry just beneath the thin leather veneer was ready to respond at the slightest touch triggered by his DNA. In short, unbeknown to Steve, Giovani had been packing and Steve and his two buddies had absolutely no clue what the hell had happened when they suddenly found themselves in unfamiar surroundings and the targets of those gigantic, ravenous reptilian beasts we call dinosaurs.
Giovani then calmly sauntered over to the battered priest, un-gagged and untied him, and asked for the continuation of the confession.
“Now, what was it that you were saying before we were rudely interrupted, Father?” he asked, as he helped the shaken, wide-eyed, nervous priest to his unsteady feet.