a dream
We were strapping down the artifacts to transport them, when the air changed. The air tingles like static when the authorities arrive - probably due to the ionization. We couldn't see them, but we didn't need to. I grabbed the thing that looked like a chair, the others got the odd things, and we began rolling them on their platforms as fast as we could to the time switch. Much like trying to catch the door of a closing elevator, only there was a bit more at stake. The construction (or reconstruction?) of roman columns came into view as we hit the switch.
Displacement.
We were in the future or the past - it was hard to tell sometimes, it was all blending together. We took the artifacts to the museum staff. They used a full item scanner to identify the age/value/authenticity of the chair by stylistic cues, first. The red numbers placed it at more than 100 years of age, and I let out a breath. If they had done a different analysis they would have found they were 0 years old, not 100. They took everything and paid us on the spot.
We went to browse the museum gift shop for ironic amusement, looking at all the common things wrapped up in plastic bags being sold as rare souvenirs. There were american dollar bills being sold next to bills printed when the states were still separate colonies.. And a variety of wooden toys in the shape of hovercars. A little kid was playing with some toy in the store - it shone with streaks of light and flew over our heads. We watched it as we stepped towards the exit.
"I don't get it," I said as we were walking out. "They knew where and when we were going and they didn't send anyone to get us when we arrived. Why?" - as we stepped out into the bright sunshine. There is a moment when you step outside that everything is a hazy undefined brightness, so it took me a moment to realize it wasn't my eyes adjusting - it was an explosion.
Displacement.
We were in the future or the past - it was hard to tell sometimes, it was all blending together. We took the artifacts to the museum staff. They used a full item scanner to identify the age/value/authenticity of the chair by stylistic cues, first. The red numbers placed it at more than 100 years of age, and I let out a breath. If they had done a different analysis they would have found they were 0 years old, not 100. They took everything and paid us on the spot.
We went to browse the museum gift shop for ironic amusement, looking at all the common things wrapped up in plastic bags being sold as rare souvenirs. There were american dollar bills being sold next to bills printed when the states were still separate colonies.. And a variety of wooden toys in the shape of hovercars. A little kid was playing with some toy in the store - it shone with streaks of light and flew over our heads. We watched it as we stepped towards the exit.
"I don't get it," I said as we were walking out. "They knew where and when we were going and they didn't send anyone to get us when we arrived. Why?" - as we stepped out into the bright sunshine. There is a moment when you step outside that everything is a hazy undefined brightness, so it took me a moment to realize it wasn't my eyes adjusting - it was an explosion.