by Alexander Shulman

Tweeterson had been working on the Tweeternet when he stumbled on quantum mechanics. “Hmmm… quantum mechanics. Interesting stuff. Makes things possible. Makes things impossible.” He typed a command in the terminal – sudo galileo update. Suddenly, Galileo appeared in the room with a puff of smoke. Under a large cape, the famous astronomer wore a strange black topcoat with many small buttons up the front, puffy sleeves, a large white collar and long (bad looking) stockings. He looked like he was in the final stages of consumption with a big white beard, short hair and glassy eyes.

Galileo said, “Where is this????? Did the Inquisition send you to arrest me??? They are imbeciles! I won’t go!” Galileo pointed his telescope at Tweeterson as if it were a sword.

“Hurrah! My time machine has worked!” Tweeterson declared.

Galileo asked, “What is a time machine? Another gimmick that is used for party tricks?” 

“Nah, it’s 2020 now!” Tweeterson said. 

“No way that you brought me 400 years into the future.” 

“Of course! It’s a matter of quantum mechanics.” 

Galileo lowered his telescope and looked around slowly. “This is…very…I…don’t…I feel…My head…Trying to…are you Copernicus? Are you God?” he asked weakly. “I think I need to sit down.”

Tweeterson brought Galileo the Tweeter 1000 haptic chair.
“Is this supposed to tickle so?” Galileo asked. 

“Yes! It’s built to loosen stiff muscles and cure rheumatism!” Tweeterson replied. 

“Ahhhhhhhh, he he he,” said Galileo, closing his eyes. Tweeterson pulled up a Tweeterson Tweeter TopKnotch Stool and waited a few minutes for the massage to end. When the tickling stopped, Galileo opened his eyes and looked at Tweeterson intently. 

“What do you want of me, senpai?”

“I want to get to Alpha Centauri in 5 days. Help me make a tesseract.”

Galileo shook his head as if trying to understand. “Alpha Centauri? Tesseract? What are these words? Has anyone yet convinced the Pope to agree the sun is at the center of our system? I’m not getting any younger and the fight is terrible for my health.”

“Why don’t I take you for a spin in my space shuttle?” Tweeterson said. “Many people have gone into space to see for themselves!”

Galileo got to his feet and adjusted his cape. “I can hardly believe this dream,” he said. “But I am ready.”

“Follow me.” said Tweeterson. “And bring your telescope.”

“Wait. I’m hungry.” Galileo said. 

“Sure, let’s get you some fuel for the journey. You’ll love modern Italian food.” Tweeterson announced. 

They got pizza and pasta—which Galielo scarfed down eagerly. “How are the civil wars going in Italy?” he asked. “And are the French still trying to invade across the border?” 

“The French have their little corner and the Italians are satisfied with theirs too. In fact they are part of an alliance called the European Union. Same money, fast trains.”

 “What is a train?” 

“A glorified buggy that runs on electricity and goes 20 times faster than the fastest horse in the world.” 

“What is electricity?”

Tweeterson took out a shock toy and shook hands with Galileo. 

“Ouch!” Said Galileo. 

“That is electricity. When it is passed through your hand, it hurts. When it is passed through these things called wires, they create magnetism which pushest the train along.” 

“What is magnetism?”

Tweeterson took out two horseshoe magnets. “North and South stick, and North and North don’t. Same with South and South.”

“How do they do—” Galileo started to say but Tweeterson interrupted. “Anyways, we’ll talk about that later. Let’s take a look at the Earth, from Mars.” 

They strapped into the Tweeter Ralkit 5000 and went off towards Mars with very, very slow acceleration.
“How far away is Mars?” Galileo asked. “It is small, even through my telescope.”

“It’s 200 million kilometers away right now.” Tweeterson said. 

“We aren’t moving very fast.” Galileo said. 

Tweeterson showed Galileo how many times faster than a horse they were moving and he was shocked. 

“I was right! We feel acceleration, not speed.” Galileo declared. “Those objections to my theory that the Earth is moving are completely catawampus! We need to send a message to the Pope immediately. Does this craft have carrier pigeons?” 

“I think you’ll find the Pope has agreed the sun is the center of the solar system for awhile now. And we don’t have to use pigeons anymore to send messages. We have email. But never mind that! We are arriving on Mars.” 

Tweeterson and Galileo put on space suits, and then they took a walk on Mars. 

“Floating around in a space shuttle is more fun than losing 20 pounds of weight. I feel so bouncy,” said Tweeterson.

The magic of time travel (plus pizza and pasta) had put a new pep in Galileo’s step, and he hopped around like a bunny rabbit.

They climbed a small, dusty hill and the landscape of Mars stretched out before them. A red wasteland with deep craters and rocky terrain.

“I must be hallucinating,” said Galileo. “This is more than the eyes of man can see. My daughter Maria Celeste must have put the wrong herbs in the medicine she made for me this week.”

“Nah, I see the same thing.” Tweeterson declared.

“Fine. I can see the Earth orbiting around the sun and the moon orbiting around the Earth. I never dreamed I would ever travel outside Italy. You are indeed a Starry Messenger.”

“Sir, the honor is mine,” said Tweeterson bowing awkwardly in his space suit. They gazed at the view for a long while until a dust storm started to swirl around them. Tweeterson looked at the storm. “Better head back to the spaceship, and let me explain what a tesseract is on the way.” He took out a string and asked, “how can we make the distance shorter?”

“Well, of course you would fold it in half!” Galileo said. 

“Yes! We can fold space time and get from point a to point b very quickly. The problem is, I’m stumped by some glitches with the prototype I’ve built.”

“Fold?” said Galileo. “Clearly you are a genius Maestro Teeterdonne, but I’m sorry this is too much. Space does not fold. It is not a sheet. It is not a towel. It is not a shirt.”

“It’s a matter of quantum mechanics.” Tweeterson replied. 

“Alright fine. But how do we do that?”

“Spawn a black hole, DUH!” 

“Ah yes! We dig a giant hole. That I understand. But falling in a hole is not the same as folding space. That is sloppy logic. No! I cannot accept it! Also, forgive me, I am an old man. Too old to be much use with a shovel.”

“A black hole is a vortex in space that pulls everything around it into it—even light, even time.”

“So it’s a thing that sucks everything in. Let’s stay away from it, shall we?”

“No! We can make a virtual black hole that does some things, but not others!”

“Alright, fine.”

And with that Tweeterson pushed the blast off  button and headed back toward Earth.

Everything was going well and they were whizzing through space when Tweeterson yawned. “I might need some coffee,” he said.  They stopped at the ISS (International Space Station) and docked. Commander Chris Cassidy opened the hatch and asked, “Who is this? We weren’t expecting anything for 3 months!” 

“I am Jeffrey Tweeterson, you can call me Tweeterson—or Jeff.” Tweereson said. 

“I know who you are. Who is that?”

“Why, that is Galileo! He’s visiting us from the 1600’s.”

“Ah! Welcome aboard!” (As a person living in a giant metal hunk floating in space, Commander Cassidy naturally expected things to happen that weren’t ever supposed to happen—like time travelers).

“Yes. What is this thing?” Galileo asked. 

“This is a giant metal hunk floating around in space.” replied the Commander. 

“Oh.” Galileo said. “I never observed it with my telescope.”

“Yeah we put it up 22 years ago.”

“Ah! I need to look into the future!”

“You’re an interesting chap.”

“Have a coffee!” Tweeterson said, producing two 1G always! Mugs. 

“Yes let’s have some.” Cassidy said. “And, I ordered a few 1G mugs a while back. Can I keep this one?”

“No. We haven’t quite figured it out yet. This cup may spill after a few hours of holding liquids. Drink fast.” Tweeterson replied. 

“While you’re here, I want you to take a look at this: I checked on a broken LiPo cell and for some reason I can’t explain, the lithium is becoming beryllium.

“Let me see…” said Tweeterson polishing off his coffee while staring at the LiPo in question. “Oh gosh, I better go turn off the tesseract machine. It must be interfering with the elements of the universe,” And he ran back to the space shuttle and left Galileo and Cassidy very confused in the ISS. 

MEANWHILE  – 1616

The Pope has announced the search for the heretic – Galileo: Warning: thee who shelter criminals shall be damned as heretics thyselves. If you see him, we will arrest him and torture him…and you too.

BACK in 2020

Tweeterson put the spaceship into Tweebo Overdrive. It was an experimental rocket booster system that unfortunately had a tendency to destabilize and blow up in a fireball, but fortunately this time it worked and he made it back to the lab on Earth in record time. He raced along corridors and then to an elevator down to his secret lair in the basement. This had been his command center for 250 years and had received numerous upgrades over the decades (Tweeterson had found the recipe to immortal youth).

He unlocked a solid graphene door twenty four inches thick and went inside. He locked the 50 different locks and turned off the tesseract. Unfortunately, the second that happened, the two people who had seen the machine were teleported to a random parallel universe. And those people were: Galileo and Tweeterson. 

Galileo blinked. “How am I back here? I was just with Maestro Cassidy.” He looked at the controls in the command center where he had first met Tweeterson.

MEANWHILE on the ISS

Commander Cassidy, “Hmmm, must be a glitch, Galileo is gone, I’m sure it will be sorted out after awhile. TIme for another coffee…”

MEANWHILE in Tweeterson’S HQ

But Tweeterson was staring past Galileo in shock. Hundreds of Tweetersons had appeared from nowhere, and 60 Galileos stood in a corner. Fortunately, Tweeterson had cleaned his workshop and there was plenty of space. 

“I must have set this off with the tesseract.” Tweeterson exclaimed. “Look, these are me at different ages. That Tweeterson looks about 300 years younger. ” He realized that he’d brought historical versions of himself back to Earth. He walked up to the loudspeaker system that was installed for the robots and yelled, “Tweetersons and Gallileos, please find out what year you think it is and line up from youngest to oldest. A few hours later,  they were lined up with name tags. Strangely, Unlike the current Tweeterson who was in a frenzy, these versions from the past didn’t seem too surprised or concerned to find themselves in 2020. They asked politely for a snack and chatted with their twins in line next to them.

“Hey Galileo” said Galileo, “Did the Pope ever agree to let me publish my book about moon craters?”

“The Pope is worse than ever,” said the older Galileo sadly shaking his head, “I have been called to Rome by the inquisition.”

“Excuse me,” said Tweeterson to an older Tweeterson, “Did my quantum computer work?”

“Sure it did. Here it is!” the older Tweeeterson said, pushing a button on his jacket.

The oldest Tweeterson had been working in a frenzy on a console labeled Beta Teleporter v 18.3.  “Well, I never worked out all the bugs but—ha, ha” Tweeterson laughed nervously, “We have to realign the space time continuum, so here goes nothing.” He started teleporting the various Tweetersons and Galileo’s back.

Suddenly, the teleporter creaked and stopped working. Tweeterson had just ordered the 2019 version of himself back to 2019, but nothing had happened. Tweeterson walked up to the 2019 Tweeterson and asked for some assistance. Unfortunately, 2019 Tweeterson didn’t want to go back to 2019. “Why would I go back when I have seen the future?” he demanded. 

“To obey the laws of the space time continuum. I don’t remember being so selfish last year.”

“It’s a matter of quantum mechanics.” said Tweeterson 2019. 

“Never mind. Come with me, I’ll get you a room” said Tweeterson. 

“Alright.”

Tweeterson brought Tweeterson 2019 into a cozy room. Then, he locked the door and put up a graphene shield. 

“Ha! You fell for it. Good luck getting out!” Tweeterson declared. 

Tweeterson went to find Galileo. He brought him into the time machine room and asked how to fix it. 

“Why, whenever any machinery stops working, I kick it!” Galileo replied. 

Tweeterson kicked the time machine, and his shoe was teleported above his head. 

“Ow!” he said, “Why is my shoe up there?”

Suddenly, the time machine began to shake. All of the Galileos and Tweetersons in the room were teleported into their correct times. 

Back in 1620 

Galileo woke up from his nap. What a dream! He poured himself some coffee and thought how silly it would be to be thousands of miles from Earth. 

400 years later…

Tweeterson stood shocked. His time machine had just teleported everyone to their proper times, but it had blown up, destroying the blueprints. “Back to square one!”

And that was the end of time travel… or was it.