Five years later

Tim sat at his desk, his eyes gazing out the window but seeing nothing, lost in his own miserable thoughts. Five years tomorrow. Five years since he had been without Jerry. The guilt had faded over time but the questions still remained. What the hell had Jerry been doing on that road in the middle of nowhere? Why hadn't he been in Rotorua, as scheduled on his itinerary sheet? For that matter, why hadn't he (Tim) put his stupid job to one side for once and gone to New Zealand with him as they had planned?

There was a brisk knock at the door. "Dr Hugo? We're ready for you," called a young excited voice.

Tim took a deep breath and tried to shake off those pointless regrets. He stood up and squared his shoulders. Maybe tomorrow, if all went well, he'd have some answers.

He went downstairs to the laboratory and pushed open the door.

The two men inside turned to acknowledge his presence briefly.

"Tim."

"Dr Hugo."

The older of the two had white hair but the younger looked as if he had only just left university. Both were dressed in the ubiquitous white lab coats. They returned their gaze to the transparent enclosure in the middle of the room. It was a square box, about two metres by two, seemingly made of glass. A shiny metal platform sat in the centre of it on the floor, but otherwise the enclosure appeared to be empty. To the right of the two men, a console unit with enough buttons and dials to resemble the controls of a spaceship, made a soft humming sound.

"Do you want to do the honours, Tim?" asked the white-haired man.

Tim nodded and strode over to the console unit. Although he knew everything was already programmed to the last decimal point, he rechecked the settings before entering the activation code. A ring of red lights appeared on the metal platform, matched a split second later by a flashing red light on the console unit. The Transporter was active.

"Any moment now," said the older man, his voice hoarse with anticipation.

A bright white light filled the enclosure and all three men shielded their eyes. When they opened them, the enclosure was no longer empty. To their delight, a bewildered looking sheep was inside, standing on the platform. It had one bright blue ear. The two scientists next to Tim exchanged a high-five, beaming smiles on their faces.

"It worked!" cried the younger of the two. "That's the right animal! I marked her ear, myself. She doesn't appear to have suffered any ill-effects whatsoever."

"Certainly looks that way," agreed his older companion, more cautiously. "We'll know for certain after the vet checks her out. Can you take her out, Milsom, and get that organised?"

The younger scientist nodded and opened the door of the enclosure.

Grabbing the sheep was easier said than done, but eventually he got it in a head lock and dragged it out.

The older man waited until he was out the door before turning to Tim. "Well, I must say, it's all looking very promising! If the next round of tests work out as we anticipate, we'll be able to consider moving the program along to the next stage. Perhaps even as soon as next year!"

"Next year?" Tim's eyes widened in protest. "You can't be serious, Washburn. All our calculations check out to the last decimal point and the last three experiments worked without a hitch. I think we're ready to take it to the next level, right now."

"I agree our progress so far is very encouraging, but I'd like to run a lot more tests before we take that final step," Washburn spoke firmly. "After all, sheep are one thing but a human being is quite another matter."

"We've done enough trials with animals," protested Tim. "We're going to have to move forward if we want to prove anything for certain. Sheep can't talk. We need a human being to tell us about the experience." He patted his laptop. "I have the details for our first subject right here, ready to go."

"Soon," promised Washburn. He put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I know how much this means to you, Tim, but we need to be sure of what we're doing. Absolutely sure."

"It's all taken so long!" murmured Tim, half to himself. "Selling the house, moving to Wellington, then getting the whole Transporter project up and running... All these tests. Five bloody years!"

"I know," soothed Washburn. "And we're nearly there, I feel certain. We brought this sheep forward a whole six months. Milsom was there, in the paddock six months ago, when we set up the experiment. He saw it disappear. We know this particular experiment was successful, but one—or even ten success stories—isn't enough to prove a new invention works. We need a lot more evidence to show Transporter is reliable and safe, to ourselves, let alone to a scientific panel."

A mulish expression descended on Tim's face.

"For heaven's sake!" Washburn stepped back and spoke sternly. "You know I'm right. You're a scientist, Tim. Start thinking like one."

~~~

Tim tossed and turned in his bed, upstairs in his small flat above the laboratory. His brain knew Washburn was right but his emotions refused to listen. What the hell! He didn't want to wait another year! He tossed back the covers and got out of bed. It was his project after all, his money that had funded most of it. Once Washburn was presented with a fait accompli, he'd come on board.

He dressed hastily and went on soft steps down to the laboratory. He listened, heart thumping loudly in his chest, to make sure no-one else was stirring before he went inside. He opened up his laptop with the details of the subject he'd had in mind for five years and entered them into the console unit. He checked everything three times before he worked up the courage to enter the activation code. A ring of red lights lit up the metal platform inside the glass enclosure. Tim waited in an agony of impatience for the corresponding red light to show on the console unit. But nothing happened.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Washburn's furious tones had him almost leaping out of his skin.

"I'm j-just..." Tim stuttered, swinging around on his chair to face the other man.

Washburn strode over to the console unit. "What have you done?"

"I'm bringing forward Hannah Wilson," said Tim, defiantly. "She died in a hit and run, six years ago. I was able to get the exact location and time of the accident from the police case files and I've programmed her Transport for ten seconds before she was hit."

Washburn stared at the red lights inside the empty enclosure. "Well, where is she then?"

"I don't know," confessed Tim. "Everything started right..." his voice trailed away.

"She's gone somewhere!" growled Washburn. "Just not here! She could be anywhere. Any when! We can't risk it. You'll have to send her back."

"Back?" asked Tim, uncomprehending.

"Back to the scene of the accident," said Washburn impatiently. "After all, she already died once, a second time will hardly make it any worse!"

Feeling sick, Tim entered the necessary codes into the console unit. The red lights winked out. It was done. Hannah was back where she started.

"Let that be a lesson to you." Washburn scolded Tim. "That incident proves I was right. The Transporter isn't ready. It needs a lot more work before we try anything like that again."

Washburn saw that Tim was trembling slightly with reaction and changed his tone. He patted him on the shoulder and added gruffly. "Don't fret about it, Tim. I guess there was no real harm done."

~~~

(Author's Notes – Sub-Genres Mythpunk and Horror – the Myth I used was the popular Urban myth of the dead hitchhiker.

Utilise: Peter, Paul and Mary's cover of the classic folk song, "500 Miles."

Use 2 of 8 images – I used #1 (Mount Maunganui) and #2 (Cathedral Cove) both from New Zealand's North Island.

Word count 3500 – 4000. Unfortunately my story only has 3006!)