Chapter Text
Emmett Brown looks at his watch as he hurriedly gathers various graphs and charts. It was nearly 9:00 am and Marty was still nowhere to be found. He had postponed this day after their setbacks in the past, present and future, but they both agreed that putting it off for too long would do no good. At last, when everything in the current time period had settled from their mishaps and they were able to return to some semblance of ‘normal’, Doc had brought up the mysterious envelope and asked if Marty was ready for another adventure. The teen had initially blanched at the idea of setting foot back inside the DeLorean after everything that had happened, but Doc convinced him that as a fellow time traveler he should attend the conference as well.
Emmett pauses in his flustered packing scramble to pull the now aged envelope from his lab coat pocket. He unfolds the paper, now heavily crinkled from his often rereads and examinations of the object.
Dr. Emmett Brown,
Congratulations on your eventual achievement of time travel! I am writing to you from the year 2042. Please understand first and foremost that this is not a joke. It is very important that you follow these instructions precisely or else the very balance of our existence may be permanently disrupted.
Attached to this letter you will find an invitation to the United League of Time Travelers’ eternal conference.
Emmett searches his pockets for the tickets, having already put them on his person so he wouldn’t leave them behind. He finds them tucked safely away in his back pocket and gives them a closer look. The small white certificates have the words United League of Time Travel: Eternal Conference printed neatly on the front in plain black text. The insignia subset behind the text, however, is an elaborate design printed in what appeared to be some form of holographic ink, if Emmett had to guess. Clipped to the tickets was another piece of paper with a series of code on it.
Once your time travel vehicle is operational, please enter the coordinates listed below at your earliest convenience.
He walks abruptly over to the DeLorean and examines the destination input panel. He had already entered the code and double-checked it twice to be sure it wasn’t mistaken in any way. All that had to be done, once they were prepared to leave, was press the ‘go’ button. Theoretically, at least. Emmett wasn’t entirely sure what would happen once the code was activated. It didn’t even appear to be a logical code from what he could tell. It was just a line of jumbled equations that he had long given up trying to decipher.
The conference takes place outside of normal parameters of time and space and thus I assure you that you will not miss a thing until your arrival. You can’t be late to an event that exists outside of time, after all.
The very notion that such a place existed both thrilled and terrified the scientist. Perhaps that meant they wouldn’t age or need sustenance while they were there. Perhaps they could stay as long as they wanted to without consequences.
Your contribution to the conference is vital.
Perhaps it was an elaborate trap.
Emmett shook the dark thoughts from his head and went back to picking up various supplies for the trip. It was too late to turn back now, and the notion of never experiencing such an event would surely break him. He was simply too curious.
“Where is that boy?” he mumbles, glancing at his watch again. He had asked Marty to be prompt for their shared adventure, which Marty had questioned since the letter clearly stated they could arrive at any point and not miss anything. Doc had responded by reaffirming the planned time for departure and made the teenager promise to arrive on time.
I do ask, rather selfishly, that you bring your assistant Marty McFly along with you. His name has been included on the invitation and it is very important for him to attend the event.
The scientist could find no logical explanation for bringing Marty along. He was the first time traveler – aside from Einstein – but surely his young assistant would have no interest in a conference most likely fixated on scientific discovery and discussion, a fact Marty himself had pointed out. Yet the note indicated that Marty should be in attendance, so Doc continued to extend the invitation until the teen finally yielded and agreed to come.
“Except now he’s the whole reason we’re going to be late.”
The door to the garage swings open quite suddenly and Emmett turns to scold Marty for being late, but instead sees his wife Clara enter.
“You’re still here, Emmett?” she asks. “I thought you two would have left by now.”
The scientist throws his hands up in defeat. “You would think, after all the time traveling Marty has done, he would understand the importance of being on time! Apparently not!”
Clara smiles and walks over to the cluttered area surrounding his desk. She shuffles some of the papers into neat stacks. “I think maybe he’s just nervous. I mean, this isn’t like going to the past or the future.” She glances up at her husband. “There’s probably a good reason why he’s running a little late. Don’t let it ruin your whole trip.”
Emmett scoffs. “He probably overslept.”
The two jump slightly as the door bursts open and Marty runs into the room, clutching his skateboard and gasping for breath.
“Doc! Sorry I’m late, I must’ve overslept.”
Emmett shoots an exasperated look to Clara, who merely chuckles softly. She gives him a quick kiss before turning to Marty, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You two have fun. Please stay out of trouble as much as you can.” Marty smirks and gives her a nod. As she goes to leave, she adds, “And try to be home in time for dinner!”
Marty looks back to Doc, who has resumed shoving things into the already confined space of the DeLorean. “Whoa, we’re not taking the steam engine?” he asks.
“No, of course not,” the scientist responds, at last satisfied with his packing job. “The DeLorean was the first time machine, it deserves to make this trip. Plus, I have no idea what parking’s going to be like outside the parameters of space-time.” He dusts off his hands and gives a nod at the overflow of papers before turning to Marty. “Got everything you need?”
Marty gives his backpack a shake. “Hard to answer since I don’t know what to pack for, but I’ll find some way to keep myself entertained.”
Doc smirks and more or less jumps into the driver’s seat. “Well, there’s no sense in stalling any longer, so let’s get going.”
Marty throws his stuff into the floor of the passenger side before climbing in as well. He ends up with a few of Doc’s blueprints and charts poking him in the back of the head, which he tries to shove further back as Doc maneuvers them out of the garage.
One other important thing: You will most certainly meet me or my father at the conference. Please do not let either of us know that I was the one who sent the invitation to you or any number of paradoxes may occur. I trust you of all people will understand the gravidity of this.
“Are we driving or flying?” Marty asks as they stop at the end of the drive-way.
“From what I can gather, I assume we should operate the DeLorean as it was originally intended, before the upgrades.” The scientist scans the road for onlookers and checks the coordinates one last time. “Besides, I see no reason to show off right when we first arrive. There’s always time for that later.” Satisfied that no one seems to be out and about this early, he pulls the car out into the street and faces it towards a long enough stretch of road.
The two adventurers give each other a quick glance. They had gone through so much together throughout the years, and although they did not know what this trip had in store for them, they were both glad to be making the journey together.
Until then, sir, it has been an honor.
“Well, no time like the present.”
Before Marty can find something to hold on to, Doc steps on the gas and the time machine roars down the empty roadway. As the speedometer nears 88, the familiar cracks and booms begin to spark around them and then there is nothing. Just another lazy Saturday morning in Hill Valley.
Your friend,
Wilbur Robinson