Stopped Clock: Research
He dragged himself into the Stopped Clock in an awful mess. It happens, sometimes, travelers who have gotten themselves in over their heads. The bar is there for them, too, if they can get to it. This guy's name was Solly. He was dressed all over in crinkly silver… something or other. Lots of blinky bits. He looked ridiculous and I would have laughed if he wasn't also covered in bruises and blood.
"What the hell happened to you?" I asked, as Edgar poured the poor guy one on the house.
"I thought I had it all figured out," Solly said. "Jump back two hundred years, back to the volatile years in the 20th to 21st Century turnover. Make a fortune as a super-criminal using my superior future knowledge and tehnology."
A knowing look went around the bar. Lotta first-timers from the future make the same mistake. Classic rookie.
"Let me guess," I said. "Turns out the 21st Century doesn't work with any of your amazing future stuff."
Solly nodded with a wide-eyed expression of disbelief. "I tried to steal a car but it wouldn't listen to me! I have a full-channel overrider but the damn thing had no master push-button. I think it wanted an actual metal key jammed into it!"
"Yeah, they mostly still do."
He rubbed his head, clearly feeling a throbbing headache. "My camo-cloak didn't evade the police scanware and my electroscrambler was totally useless, since they didn't try to stun me with proxima-waves."
"We don't have any of that stuff yet," I told him. "They just use their eyes and hit you with nightsticks."
"Now somebody tells me," he grumbled.
"You gotta do your research, man," Edgar chided him as gently as possible. "I met a guy the other day who thought he'd get rich by shorting the 1929 market crash. He was genuinely surprised that he couldn't get ahold of any brokers on his cell phone."
Solly blinked at him. "Really?" He looked down at his scotch. "Man, what a dumbass. I guess I don't feel so bad after all."
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For consideration: broad-spectrum anti-virals, though, that's something that will always be useful
"What the hell happened to you?" I asked, as Edgar poured the poor guy one on the house.
"I thought I had it all figured out," Solly said. "Jump back two hundred years, back to the volatile years in the 20th to 21st Century turnover. Make a fortune as a super-criminal using my superior future knowledge and tehnology."
A knowing look went around the bar. Lotta first-timers from the future make the same mistake. Classic rookie.
"Let me guess," I said. "Turns out the 21st Century doesn't work with any of your amazing future stuff."
Solly nodded with a wide-eyed expression of disbelief. "I tried to steal a car but it wouldn't listen to me! I have a full-channel overrider but the damn thing had no master push-button. I think it wanted an actual metal key jammed into it!"
"Yeah, they mostly still do."
He rubbed his head, clearly feeling a throbbing headache. "My camo-cloak didn't evade the police scanware and my electroscrambler was totally useless, since they didn't try to stun me with proxima-waves."
"We don't have any of that stuff yet," I told him. "They just use their eyes and hit you with nightsticks."
"Now somebody tells me," he grumbled.
"You gotta do your research, man," Edgar chided him as gently as possible. "I met a guy the other day who thought he'd get rich by shorting the 1929 market crash. He was genuinely surprised that he couldn't get ahold of any brokers on his cell phone."
Solly blinked at him. "Really?" He looked down at his scotch. "Man, what a dumbass. I guess I don't feel so bad after all."
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For consideration: broad-spectrum anti-virals, though, that's something that will always be useful