How does one even reply to someone who has just dropped from the sky, and then asks you what year this is? So I replied by questioning his physical state. My reasonable mind told me me that this guy had just crashed into a cliff and might have sustained a head injury.
I took a step forward and reached out to examine him for injuries.
He reacted swiftly by taking two steps back.
"Ey compadre what you doing?", he said pushing his index and middle fingers to his chest.
Immediately it was as if the fibers from his tight-fitting top rearranged themselves in a circular pattern around the area he touched, and the cloth right under his fingers lit up in a light blue glow, similar to what we usually see in small LED lights. I felt a wall of static electricity in front of me and slowly took a step back.
It is very hard for me to describe what went threw my mind at that moment, but I remember saying, "It's 2016...Augustus. It's Augustus 2016."
He stared at me for a moment, then he threw his arms in the air, spun around in circles and said something in Spanish that I figured must have been swearing. The man then sat down on the bench and dropped his head into his hands.
Now, I think I should mention that I am a former police officer and also a former soldier, and I pride myself in having a nose for smelling BS, but this didn't smell like any BS that I have ever smelled before. I wasn't sure what to ask the man so I decided on a neutral question that could cover many bases.
"Where are you from?"
He lifted his eyes.
"I hail from Madrid. My name is Dante," he said holding out his hand.
I shook Dante's hand and took a seat next to him on the bench. I remember taking a few moments to come up with another question that wouldn't offend my Spanish friend and also wouldn't make me sound like a dingbat.
"How did you get here?“
"Estúpido! Estúpido!" he shouted and then took a moment before he replied calmly, "I projected with only half charge."
I had no idea what that meant, so I just tried to look sympathetic and nodded along. Then Dante looked up at me. "Do you have a SNS* port nearby?"
"Um, I am not too sure. This is a pretty small town."
Dante got up and pressed his fore- and middle fingers onto his left forearm. I watched as the fibers on his sleeve rearranged, followed by the same blue glow as before. It emitted a sound similar to running a mallet over the notes of a xylophone, and a tiny colorful whirlwind sprung up from his arm.
It had little sliver particles twirling around that disappeared from view about twelve inches away from his arm. Dante kept touching his left eye and staring into the distance.
I can imagine that at this stage, you must be convinced that I got this all from a second rated sci-fi flick, and I respect your skepticism, but I assure you that I am just telling this the way it happened in front of my eyes. (I would not have believed it, if it was someone else telling the story either.)
Dante wiped his forearm and all the twirls and sparkles faded from sight.
He got down on his haunches and said, "You have to excuse, my knowledge on history- umm, is not good. Has Haselton** discovered the quantum counterpart for the law on general relativity yet?"
Science was never my strong point, and although I did develop a interest in physics a decade or so ago, his question left me with the same perplexed look on my face, that I can imagine you must have now. So I just shrugged and shook my head. Then there was a moment of silence.
"What year are you from?“, I asked, as I finally managed to spit out this ridiculous question that had been lingering in the back of my mind.
He took a deep breath and said, "I projected on April 29th, 3039-“, Dante paused and looked at me,"I have to get to April 30th, 1947... to tell the woman I love that I found a way."
Next Post - The Time Traver's lover
* I later learned that SNS is an acronym for Synthetic Nano suit/ skin (Can't remember which)
** Dante requested that some of the names of people be changed and also some "future events" be left out of this text.
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