How does my time machine work?

well, sometimes it doesn't

I have intentionally concealed the nature of my time machine.

I must be careful to not expose my greatest asset in this world. (Besides Violi of course)

For the sake of storytelling, and transparency, I will reveal how my time machine works. Hundreds of years in the future, technology has obviously progressed to the point of creating a completely transformed civilization. The travel industry is what we are concerned with. So I won’t get into the geothermal floating food banks or the artificial atmosphere — which counteracts the catastrophic irreversible damage that this current time period has inflicted upon the planet — a technology that has suspended the Earth in sort of a planetary life support hammock, without which the entire world would crumble within days.

A disclaimer; I am not a scientist, and I’m not much of a time machine person. Like men today have an obsession with the ins and outs of cars, grills, and other shiny metallic objects that spew fire, men in the 24th century are fascinated by the physical aspects of the contraptions that allow us to travel through time and space. I am neither of those men, I don’t know what the fuck a carburetor is and I don’t care. Just give me a car that works and I will drive it from point A to point B. The same is true with my time machine. I haven’t decked it out with the latest specs. I just turn it on and go to the past.

You’re probably wondering what the thing looks like and are imagining a giant metal industrial cooler-like machine that has a bunch of strobe lights blaring to a futuristic symphony as you blast off through the roof of a house. In reality, my time machine is in the form of a wristwatch.

Having a time machine is as common as having a car in the 21st century is. In wealthy nations, many people have them. However, the usage of these time machines is more comparable to the frequency of vacations in the modern day. Many families only use their machines once or twice a year, while businessmen, diplomats, or vagabonds may use their machines once a month or even more.

The difficulty lies in the paperwork. There are strict rules and regulations for time machine usage and for behavior in alternate eras. Most people must stick with a tour group when visiting the past. And this is how the industry works; you may only travel back in time from the century you were born, you may not travel forward beyond the chronology of your life.

To avoid all of the bureaucracy, I travel unofficially through back channels. It is not always the most straightforward process, and it leaves you prone to extortion and scammers.

As cars do, time machines need repairs and tune-ups. I chose an inconspicuous vessel as my beacon of travel. Many people have smooth boxes, toasters, or even tricycles as the form of their time machine. Time machines are largely customizable and easy to recognize for people of the future. I chose a compact form so that agents of the future would not be able to identify my machine. (Also just imagine me walking around the streets holding a toaster wherever I go - ridiculous)

If I was seen walking around with a time machine, it would be confiscated, and I would be arrested and deported to the future. There is a time police organization similar to Interpol, which searches for people in violation of the regulations of the time travel code.

There are a time diplomats and politicians who bridge the connections between eras. Certain predetermined time tourist cities in a given era are heavily policed and monitored so that the state run tour groups do not disturb the natural habitat of the creatures of those cities.

Don’t feed the animals.

Don’t interact with the people of the past. It is a controlled industry, but many, like me, have gone rogue for the sake of exploration, crime, or in many cases – love.

Violi and I are not from the same era. We were born hundreds of years apart, but now we travel together everywhere.

I must maintain strict discipline so that I may continue my travels undisturbed. I have a wide network of contacts and allies that help me smoothly live freely in whatever time or place that I desire.

If my time machine ever breaks down, I may be stuck for a while; which has happened many times over the years. Safe houses, underground travel bases, and resource centers, are scattered across the globe in all eras in history. I have many detailed maps of such locations; however, information outdates and changes at a fairly rapid pace in the ever-vigilant hyper-discerning underbelly of the criminal element of the time travel trade.

So when I am taking a trip, I research thoroughly the nearby places of interest that may help me in a pinch. If I would ever get lost, I could always find some help, wherever I may be. I’ve never completely been out of lifelines, though I’ve heard many instances of rogue travelers sold into slavery in ancient Mesopotamia or sacrificed to crocodiles in the Nile.

Danger is around the corner, no matter how you choose to spend this human existence. We are as delicate as dandelion puffs in the larger scope of existence. One may keel over and die at any moment, even if living the safest life possible.

That is why I do as I please. For now I travel. Until the urge for settling down comes. So I protect my watch and hope for the best.

Elio