2

You and Brett both get out of the Land Rover for a better picture.

The camera captures you, the very image of the intrepid explorer in your stained camo vest, a hand resting on the hood of your dirt-coated Land Rover, Brett by your side. Your excitement serves to distract you from the qualms about the functionality of your time machine that are gripping your innards. After clambering back inside, you capture a quick shot of your preflight checklist and devote more footage to showing your practiced fingers playing over the console.

Shoving aside twinges of apprehension, you say, "Switching to time-travel mode in four…three…two…one…now!"

The time machine springs to life, emitting the same reassuring hum you first heard in your parents' garage. Whew. Brett high-fives you.

"Now for step two," you murmur. You activate the flux navigator. There's nothing more welcoming to your eyes than the glowing green lights on the device. You take a breath and key in the command sequence to enable the time window to open.

That's when the trouble starts.

Trouble