《Drive Time》 Prologue Simon Raines pondered on whether bringing about his own death would be suicide or murder. Either way, Simon had to die. The problem is in the execution, he thought. He allowed himself a smirk when he caught the pun. Just how would he go about taking his life without affecting his very meticulously laid out plans for the future? He would have to hide. Hide himself away in a place where no one would look. The most unexpected location possible. He needed a place away from anywhere a soul would think to investigate, even if they had hundreds of years to uncover it. Immortality unseen was his ultimate goal, just to be sure, impossible as it seemed. They could never find him if he were to succeed.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Somewhere even he himself wouldn¡¯t even think of looking. Then, he¡¯d not see his own death coming. Chapter 1 Origin Point -18 Hours ¡°In what way do you see yourself being suited for this role, Ms Manford?¡± Victor Peterson asked from behind his desk. The leggy blonde, Samantha, sat on the opposite side of the table, far closer than he had expected though he wasn¡¯t complaining. Closer than expected, as the desk was smaller than he¡¯d realised. Their knees were touching. The room¡¯s lone piece of furniture hadn¡¯t even been in the ¡®office¡¯ until thirty minutes before the interview; he¡¯d brought it from home in the back of his car with the seats down. It had coffee mug rings and paint splatter. He didn¡¯t see the cartoon of a penis scratched into the surface until the interview was already under way; it was now covered with Samantha¡¯s resume. ¡°I think my previous experience would be a perfect fit for your business.¡± She looked at her surroundings, a little concerned that she may be attacked by vermin at any moment, the warehouse in which her interview was taking place was not what she was expecting. Both interviewer and interviewee were still wearing their coats as it was colder inside than out. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Victor said, picking up on her discomfort. ¡°The building will be renovated before anyone new starts work here. Can you explain how your work at,¡± he checked the resume, careful to not re-reveal the childish graffiti, ¡°InVogue Promotions might translate to the particle physics world?¡± ¡°Well, my boss always placed a lot of pressure on me to look good physically. Ugly people don¡¯t sign as many clients. We had this girl called Sharon working with us one time, her ears were too large, she didn¡¯t get any commission at all. She quit after a week.¡± ¡°Oh, poor Sharon,¡± Victor paused for a moment, then continued when he realised that Samantha wasn¡¯t making a joke. ¡°Not exactly what I meant by physics, though. We deal with the science of physics here. You didn¡¯t research that before the interview? No? Not a problem. Why are you making the move away from modelling and promotions?¡± ¡°Well, the promotional work is only part time. I thought a little admin work might help ends meet. I searched online for gym and physical therapy work, this must have come up accidentally, maybe I misspelt something.¡± ¡°Maybe it could be a happy mistake as we might need an assistant to handle the paperwork, we¡¯ll be busy with the physics.¡± ¡°What kind of physics?¡± ¡°We¡¯re mainly concerned with quantum entanglement right now.¡± ¡°Sounds sexy.¡± She gave him a flirtatious smile. Twenty-eight, medium build with brown eyes and thick, short brown hair, Victor would be what most consider as average looking, but with bucket loads of confidence, he had very little trouble in attracting the attentions of the opposite gender. ¡°I suppose it is. It¡¯s all about connections and attraction. Do you know what a photon is?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that what they shoot at each other in Star Wars?¡± Victor winced a little at the confusion between two of his favourite intellectual properties. He fought back the compulsion to correct her on the particularities of Trek and Wars. ¡°Sorta. They¡¯re tiny, tiny particles that make up radiation like light. We can pair two photons so that anything that happens to one of them happens to the other. Like soul mates. No matter how far apart they are, they react as a pair.¡± ¡°Sweet.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it? We can use their connection to communicate, I could make a messaging device with one of the tiny couple inside, then place its soul mate inside another and give it to you. No matter where you went in the world, I would be able to send you messages. You wouldn¡¯t need to worry about bars on your device, as we¡¯d always have perfect reception. They¡¯d only be able to talk to each other, so I¡¯d be the only one in your address book, but I¡¯d always be there for you. Connected. Even if you travelled to the other end of the universe.¡± Samantha shook herself out of the transfixed state she¡¯d unwittingly entered into while Victor stared into her eyes. ¡°Is any of this even true? It sounds a little far-fetched.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°It¡¯s entirely factual. It will be a useful way of sending secure messages in future. Nothing would be transmitted over airwaves or through cables, so it¡¯s virtually immune to interception. We¡¯ll have much more interesting applications in mind, though.¡± ¡°I¡¯m intrigued, what ways?¡± ¡°Well, I could tell you, but then I¡¯d¡­¡± There was a sudden thud from the door to the warehouse, quickly followed by a grunt that could be heard softly through the closed door, then another thud and the squeak of wood against wood as the door sprung open and a slightly plump man fell through the opening onto the warehouse floor. ¡°Shit, Simon, you okay, mate?¡± Victor asked with a smirk, he went to his friend and helped him to his feet. ¡°Fine thanks. That door¡¯s the first thing we¡¯re getting fixed when the cash starts flowing.¡± The tumbler said. ¡°There¡¯s no point even having the door when there¡¯s a man-sized hole in the brickwork of the west wall, might want to get that filled in first. I don¡¯t know why you didn¡¯t use it to get in here, it¡¯s right in front of where you parked, Si.¡± Victor had known Simon Raines for over ten years since they were in college together, but he was still surprised by Simon¡¯s lack of common sense. Simon had a genius level intellect but spent so much time in his mind that he even bungled the things that should be achieved on autopilot. For people of Simon¡¯s personality type this was by no means unusual, Victor knew, but it always amazed him to see Simon act like an archetypal cartoon science professor. Victor also had a much higher than average IQ, but he was glad he didn¡¯t reach the point on the spectrum where he started to lose the instinctual functions that most human beings shared. He often thought that he should buy Simon a crash helmet and protective suit to prevent him getting seriously hurt by his lack of attention to his environment. Simon straightened his thin mousey blonde hair, trying to regain some semblance of dignity after the fall, despite it being a mess even before the fall. ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡± he asked. ¡°Who?¡± Victor replied, failing to play dumb. ¡°Oh, this is Samantha, I¡¯m interviewing her for the admin position.¡± ¡°What admin position? We don¡¯t even have paperwork to file, let alone anywhere to file it. Are you using that as an excuse to pick up women again.¡± Victor quickly bustled Simon a few feet away from Samantha. ¡°Shh, Simon, that¡¯s not what I¡¯m doing... this time. Well... maybe a little, but I think we¡¯ll need a female presence around the office, there¡¯s too much testosterone flying around,¡± This was a blatant lie since both men knew neither of them was a testosterone flinger. ¡°We need some oestrogen to even it out. This could be a disaster. You know how you get when you can¡¯t do your morning sudoku.¡± Simon rolled his eyes. ¡°We have Spencer; she¡¯s a girl. We can¡¯t trust anyone with what we have here, Victor, you know that. Not a complete stranger, anyway.¡± ¡°Sam¡¯s not a complete stranger, we were in the middle of an interview before you literally crashed it. That¡¯s why we have interviews, Simon. Oh, and Spencer¡¯s one of the boys. She¡¯s even got a boy¡¯s name for God¡¯s sake.¡± ¡°It¡¯s gender neutral.¡± ¡°Whatever,¡± Victor said, trying to shrug off Simon¡¯s protests, before immediately resigning to them. ¡°Well, maybe you¡¯re right. She might be a distraction, I¡¯d never get anything done. Might even have to fire myself for inappropriately flirting with the female staff.¡± ¡°I can still hear you. The echo in here¡¯s pretty loud,¡± Samantha objected. ¡°And I can reach out and touch you without leaving my seat.¡± ¡°Apologies, Miss Manford, no offence meant.¡± ¡°None taken. I probably wouldn¡¯t report it anyway, hon.¡± She winked. ¡°But it sounds like I wasted my time here since there¡¯s no real position.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him,¡± Victor said. ¡°We¡¯ll need someone no doubt. Simon hates paperwork, don¡¯t you Simon?¡± ¡°The monotony relaxes me.¡± ¡°Shut up, Simon.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. You have my number on the application, maybe call me if you decide there is a position. Or even if there isn¡¯t.¡± She smiled and turned to leave. ¡°You might want to use the west wall,¡± Simon said, ¡°It¡¯s closer to the car park.¡± He pointed to the large gap, twenty or so feet to her right and she thanked him, heading out into the car park. Victor and Simon watched her leave. ¡°What was this one? Stripper?¡± Simon guessed. ¡°She sold cars. Why are you here anyway? I thought you were allergic to the mould.¡± ¡°I came to put some rat traps down. I¡¯m more allergic to them.¡± ¡°Once we get that wall filled, we should get less.¡± ¡°I feel like I could catch something just breathing in the air here.¡± ¡°Yeah, next time an uncle dies and leaves you property, make sure you get them to make it more hospitable before they croak.¡± Chapter 2 Origin Point -16 Hours After laying Simon¡¯s traps at the warehouse, he and Victor decided to return to Simon¡¯s Harrogate flat and continue work on the time drive while waiting for pizza to arrive. The interesting applications of the machine ¡ª that Samantha had not been informed of due to Simon¡¯s unceremonious arrival ¡ª went far beyond messaging practice that Victor had mentioned. In addition to photon pairs being linked across space, they were also connected across time. If photons A and B were entangled, Photon B could be re-entangled with a new particle, Photon C, at a later date. Photon C would then affect Photon A while skipping the time in between their pairings. This meant they could send a message via their present photon to the original in the past. If a pair were entangled today, for instance, then were re-entangled with another photon in a week, they would offer a direct line to seven days in the past. This in itself would be hugely lucrative to anyone with half a brain, but the machine would work fast enough to create new pairs within a tenth of a second of each other. Each pair could then be used in relay to reach any point between the present and the moment in the past when the machine first became operational. Computing and sending messages via quantum entanglement wasn¡¯t a new concept, scientists had been toying with the notion for decades. Victor, Simon and Spencer were just the first to make the method stable and reliable enough to use effectively. The key was in the method used to read the state of the photons; current techniques were unable to test an entangled photon without destroying it. The three physicists had cracked that particular problem, giving themselves a head start on the competition. ¡°You¡¯ve been busy, did you make more photon boxes?¡± Victor asked as he surveyed Simon¡¯s living room. To call it a living room might be oxymoronic, as the area hadn¡¯t enough space for living comfortably. The majority of the space was taken up by the group¡¯s inventions and the devices they used to maintain them. Some of the tech had even spilt into Simon¡¯s bedroom, and going to the bathroom during the night had become a drowsy obstacle course, resulting in minor injury more than once. ¡°I made another seven boxes so we can send a full byte in tandem, rather than in serial bit by bit, should improve the speed and efficiency even further.¡± ¡°Faster than what was already virtually instantaneous?¡± ¡°Cheating time is what we¡¯re all about right now.¡± ¡°Fair point.¡± There was a knock at the door. Knowing that the pizza guy would have to use the intercom to gain entry to the building, Victor looked to Simon inquisitively. Simon held a finger to his lips. Victor kept silent. What? He mouthed to Simon. Simon shrugged. ¡°Mr Raines!¡± A voice called from the corridor outside the flat. ¡°I know you¡¯re in there. I can see the light from under the door, and your car is parked outside. I need your rent and the arrears by tomorrow, or I¡¯ll have no choice but to evict you. You¡¯re three months behind, it¡¯s unacceptable. I should have removed you when you missed the first month. Mr Raines! I can see your lights!¡± ¡°I keep the lights on, so burglars think I¡¯m home,¡± Simon shouted. Victor held his palms to the air in a ¡®what the hell¡¯ gesture. Simon looked clueless.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Whatever,¡± the voice responded, ¡°you have until tomorrow, or you¡¯re out.¡± Simon went to the door to hear footsteps retreating through the passage beyond. ¡°Phew, that was close.¡± he said. ¡°Yeah, Simon, I think you got away with it,¡± Victor said, incredulously. ¡°Stealthy.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± Simon said, oblivious to the sarcasm. ¡°I have no idea where I¡¯m getting the rent, so I¡¯m glad he left.¡± ¡°Simon, did you not hear him? You¡¯ll have nowhere to live tomorrow if you don¡¯t give him what you owe.¡± ¡°Oh, he always says that, it¡¯ll be fine. These boxes are going to be like our own private mint.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, mate, it didn¡¯t sound that way. That it¡¯s fine, I mean, the second part was right.¡± ¡°Either way, I¡¯ll be able to afford a mansion once this gets switched on. Not that I¡¯d waste money on that kind of thing. I just need work and sleep space.¡± ¡°Well, we¡¯d better step up the schedule a bit. We can run the first test tomorrow.¡± ¡°Sure. These eight are all ready to go, we should probably get started on another eight.¡± ¡°The container for the boxes and the intermediation is going to be quite big, not really plug and play is it?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll have chance to upgrade them as we go, I¡¯d say I could fit all eight photons and the sensors in a package that¡¯s two by one by one inch. Once we¡¯re operational, we¡¯ll have the funds to miniaturise them in no time.¡± ¡°Literally, if this works.¡± ¡°It¡¯s going to work. It has to. I spent all my rent on these boxes and the materials for the other eight I¡¯m going to get started on now.¡± ¡°Probably not the best idea, the drive will work fine with one box on each end. You need a place to sleep if we¡¯re going to continue this project.¡± ¡°I just wanted to make the first test as efficient as possible, so we have the best starting position. Hopefully, we¡¯ll see profit in time to pay my arrears. If it comes down to a race against time, we¡¯ll win.¡± ¡°Yeah, time¡¯s gonna be our bitch,¡± Victor said, joining in with Simon¡¯s positivity. ¡°Once this thing¡¯s on, we¡¯ll be closer to having all the time in the world than anyone, ever. Louis Armstrong can suck it.¡± ¡°Our machine can¡¯t send messages back to the seventies when he died, it will only go back as far as when we first switch it on.¡± ¡°It was a figure of speech, Si,¡± Victor said, amazed once more by Simon¡¯s literal-mindedness. ¡°Even if we put aside the fact that I didn¡¯t even exist before ¡®89, I don¡¯t plan on using our revolutionary, world-changing device to send a message back in time and bag myself a BJ from an old jazz man.¡± ¡°Okay, that¡¯s good, I don¡¯t imagine Doc Brown would have approved of that.¡± ¡°No,¡± Victor adopted his best Christopher Lloyd impression. ¡®I didn¡¯t invent the time machine to solicit oral sex from old jazz men, Marty, I invented the time machine to travel through time!¡¯¡± They both laughed until the front door buzzer sounded. ¡°That¡¯ll be the pizza,¡± Simon said as he went to buzz the delivery person in via the intercom handset on the wall by the flat¡¯s front door. Victor perused the eight boxes on the hardware strewn table in front of him. These little boxes were about to make history, and remake future history. He gave the boxes a pat and smiled, his life, and the lives of his two best friends were about to become a lot more exciting thanks to these black plastic objects and their contents. The drive to which the future data-stream would be downloaded was seated next to the boxes. Currently a box of about two square feet filled with standard 3.5¡± personal computer hard drives. The box was modular, so they could add extra data storage when needed. They were to use a custom built program on Simon¡¯s laptop to write to the hard drive externally. Once the machine was running smoothly, the laptop would be replaced by a desktop computer, allowing further upgrades. When the plan was in full swing, the team would receive messages from their future selves, informing them of how to improve the system beyond the capabilities of their present time¡¯s technological limitations. Simon returned to the non-living room. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you could lend me some money towards my half of dinner could you?¡± ¡°How much of it?¡± Victor asked, pulling out his wallet. ¡°Let¡¯s see, erm, roughly, ahh, all... of it.¡± ¡°OK, since you shelled out for the new boxes.¡± Victor sighed. ¡°You¡¯ll have to let me share the cost of that too, although I suppose it won¡¯t matter soon enough.¡± Chapter 3 Origin Point -5 Hours Spencer Egan and Simon Raines perused the shelves of the supermarket alcohol section. ¡°Any preference?¡± Simon asked. ¡°We need champagne, we¡¯re going to have plenty to celebrate,¡± Spencer replied. ¡°Fair enough. Ladies choice.¡± Spencer grabbed the cheapest bottle from the shelf and placed it in the basket that Simon was carrying. ¡°And these,¡± Spencer said as she grabbed a couple of wine bottles. ¡°Do we need all this? You know I don¡¯t really drink, I¡¯ll take a sip after the toast, and Victor will finish the rest.¡± ¡°Oh, the wine¡¯s for me, Victor¡¯s bringing his own beer.¡± Spencer¡¯s long blonde hair was tied back in her usual ponytail, with her light grey eyes and even features, most heterosexual males would find her attractive, but her tomboy disposition and style of dress made it clear that she was far from a ¡®girly girl¡¯. Despite this, she still had a maternal temperament, if Simon was the brains of the group and Victor was the mouth, Spencer was the heart. She had the strongest morals and capacity for compassion and empathy. Simon took the basket to the registers and placed the bottles on the conveyor. Spencer added another bottle. The checkout girl ran the bar codes over the scanner. ¡°Twenty-five fifty, please.¡± the girl said. Spencer brought her purse from out of her handbag and removed the twenty-five pounds, leaving the note compartment empty, she sifted out a fifty pence coin, leaving a few pound coins and pennies. ¡°This drive better work.¡± she said. ¡°I have full faith in what we have,¡± Simon replied. ¡°Not long till we find out.¡± Spencer handed over the cash then passed the packed bag to Simon. Back at Simon¡¯s car, he placed the bag in the back while Spencer took the passenger seat. Simon climbed behind the wheel and pulled out of his space; a few feet before they were able to exit the lot, the car began to sputter and cough, then the engine died. Simon tried the ignition again, but it failed to turn over. He read the fuel gauge, sighed and glanced at Spencer. She rolled her eyes and got out the car, luckily the supermarket had its own petrol station. Five minutes later she returned with a can of unleaded ¡ª filled as far as the coins in her purse would allow ¡ª and emptied it into the fuel tank before getting back in next to Simon. ¡°Like I said, it better work.¡± Simon started the ignition and continued the short journey towards his flat.
Simon and Spencer climbed the stairs to the flat, Simon fished the keys from his pocket as they reached the door. He inserted the key and turned, but the lock wouldn¡¯t disengage. He pulled the key out and inspected it, bent and stared confusedly into the hole, then gave the key another fruitless try. ¡°Uh, Si?¡± Spencer said warily and tapped on the door at eye level. Simon looked at the door and saw the sheet of paper within a clear plastic filing sleeve. He pulled it from the door. ¡°Eviction notice?¡± he exclaimed, ¡°How can this have happened?¡± If Victor were with them, he would have slapped his forehead in exasperation. ¡°We need to get in there for the drive.¡± ¡°Maybe you can speak to your landlord, get him to let us in long enough to move the stuff.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± Simon took out his phone, brought up the contact for his landlord, Gary, and hit Call. After several rings, Simon wondered if Gary was ignoring the phone to avoid speaking with him. The call hit voice mail; Simon hung up and redialled. When the call went back to voice mail, he decided to leave a message. ¡°Hi, Mr Dobson, it¡¯s Simon. Simon Raines. I¡¯m really disappointed you¡¯ve locked me out of my flat, we were about to make enough money to cover the rent and all of the arrears. We went out and bought alcohol to celebrate. Please don¡¯t be mean, let us back in so we can perform our prototype experiments, get money and then we¡¯ll all be happy. Please call me back once you hear this message. It¡¯s Simon. Did I say that? Simon Raines. Give me a call. Please. Thank you.¡±If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°¡®Don¡¯t be mean?¡¯¡± Spencer asked. ¡°Well, I¡¯m upset, and I hate speaking on phones. I like voice mail even less. Makes me anxious.¡± ¡°I see that. How long should we give him to stop being a mean ¡®ol meany?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s give him five.¡± They sat on the hallway steps while they waited for a callback, which happened after a nail biting four minutes and fifty-two seconds. Simon picked up. ¡°Hello, Mr Dobson?... No, no I¡¯ve calmed down a bit, and I regret calling you mean, it was harsh... Yes, maybe I was mean to live here without paying you what you¡¯re owed, yes. If I can just get in to get my equipment maybe? You are? Yes, I promise I won¡¯t try and cause trouble, I just want the equipment. Yes. Okay. See you soon.¡± He hung up. ¡°He¡¯s on his to let us in now. He was passing anyway.¡± ¡°Glad we got meangate sorted, I didn¡¯t want to have to put either of you in time out on the naughty step.¡± Gary appeared ten minutes later, and he let them into the flat, watching them carefully as they removed the equipment. It took Spencer and Simon a few trips up and down the steps to load everything they needed into the car. Simon felt self-conscious, repeatedly making the journey with a red face, getting damper and more out of breath progressively, while Spencer barely showed any signs of strain. Gary continued to watch, never helping. After the embarrassing parade was finally over for Simon, Gary apologised to him for how this had ended, he didn¡¯t like having to throw anyone out, but he had a business to run. They arranged for Simon to pick up the rest of his things at a later date. Simon and Spencer returned to the fully-loaded car and sat inside while reviewing their options. ¡°We can¡¯t go to mine, I have a room-mate, and Victor¡¯s place is like Waterloo station with the women he has going in and out of there. We¡¯re still keeping all this confidential, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± ¡°We were going to run everything from the warehouse eventually, why don¡¯t we just move that up the schedule?¡± ¡°There¡¯s no electricity. Or internet.¡± ¡°Well, we can deal without the internet access for now, but the electricity might be a problem. We could run it off a generator.¡± ¡°Do we have a generator?¡± ¡°No,¡± Spencer replied. ¡°Do we know anyone who has a generator we could borrow?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Do we have enough money to rent a generator?¡± ¡°Okay, there¡¯s no need to be a dick about it.¡± Simon looked at Spencer in confusion. She realised that Simon was rarely sarcastic and, now she was thinking about it, she couldn¡¯t remember a time when he ever was. He was genuinely trying to diagnose a solution. ¡°Forget about it,¡± she said. ¡°I guess we can¡¯t power it from a car battery either.¡± She thought for a moment. ¡°If we¡¯re quiet, we can run the first test at my place and hope my roommate doesn¡¯t catch on.¡± ¡°That might be our only option. Do you really think Vicky will deduce we¡¯re running experiments in time manipulation?¡± ¡°Point taken.¡± Maybe Simon could be sarcastic after all. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s call Victor, get him to meet us at my place instead of the one that used to be yours - sorry - and we¡¯ll get stuff set up there for tonight, then we¡¯ll move it once your warehouse has electricity.¡±
An hour later, the three physicists were at Spencer¡¯s shared flat, setting up the equipment on the desk in her bedroom. Her roommate, Vicky, wasn¡¯t home to see them bring the gear into Spencer¡¯s room, but once she returned, she wondered what her roommate might be doing hidden in her bedroom with two men. As Simon had predicted, space-time experiments were not even close to being on her list of possibilities. Once the drive was set up and engaged, they would make a note of the time, and that instant would be the used as the destination for their first message from the future. In the traditional linear way that time is experienced, they would have to wait until they had the required information, then sent it to the date and time of which they had made a note. But, in ¡®Drive Time¡¯ ¡ª their label for the altered flow of time when utilising the drive ¡ª they should receive their first message as soon as the machine was working, since the drive allowed them to effectively skip the time in between. Up until they made their first experiment, theories were all they had, they didn¡¯t know the outcome for sure. ¡°Everything is set up as it should be, we just need to connect to the laptop and boot the program,¡± Victor said. Simon started up the laptop and connected it via USB to the drive, and its series of photon boxes. ¡°Okay,¡± he said. ¡°I know there are a variety of ways this could go, but if I had any money left, I¡¯d still put it on the instant arrival theory.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s that, or we get screwed by the bootstrap paradox,¡± Victor added. ¡°Well, that¡¯s a possibility too. This is unknown territory, we could bring about the end of the universe for all we know.¡± Simon recognised his companion¡¯s sudden trepidation. ¡°But I¡¯m sure the chances of that are infinitesimal,¡± he said for assuasive effect. Their expressions relaxed. They knew the odds of something like that happening, but Simon was the smartest of the three and that caused a moment of doubt for them. ¡°You guys sure you¡¯re okay with this? You know, with the morality of it? Cheating at the lottery?¡± Spencer said. ¡°It¡¯s just the one time, we can¡¯t do it more than once, or we¡¯ll arouse suspicion, it¡¯s just to get us going,¡± Simon said. ¡°What comes after is probably a lot more immoral, we¡¯re messing with the space-time continuum. I don¡¯t think we could have a more precarious situation when it comes to our morality. Want to back out?¡± ¡°Sod that, let¡¯s just do it,¡± Victor said. ¡°YOLO, motherfuckers.¡± Chapter 4 Origin Point Simon clicked the Initiate button on the app. Nothing happened. ¡°Is it running?¡± Victor asked. ¡°The light on the drive is green,¡± Simon replied, ¡°and the software says it¡¯s operational.¡± ¡°Looks like you lost your bet, Si,¡± Spencer said, dispirited. ¡°We will have to send the numbers back ourselves, once they¡¯re announced, then our past will change.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± Simon said. ¡°Or the multiverse theory is correct and another reality reaps the benefits while we go on as we were, penniless and miserable.¡± Spencer and Victor looked at one another with a shared melancholy, Simon had a terrible bedside manner. ¡°Hang on a second, I¡¯ll just check something.¡± He brought up a file explorer window for the external drive. He checked the ¡®Received¡¯ folder and found a twenty-byte simple text file named ¡®lottery.txt¡¯. Simon opened the file, and the notepad application appeared on-screen. The text area contained six two digit numbers. 06 11 22 34 42 44 ¡°How did that get there?¡± Simon pondered aloud. ¡°I coded a pop-up notification for when we¡¯ve received data, or at least, I thought I had.¡± ¡°Well, you can worry about that later, right now we have a ticket to buy,¡± Victor said, his mood instantly elevated. They all looked at each other. ¡°It worked,¡± Spencer said, verbalising the leading thought on each of their minds. ¡°It worked,¡± Simon said. He became almost unrecognisable to Spencer and Victor, displaying a level of delight they had never before seen on his face. ¡°It worked!¡± Victor said and began jumping up and down on the spot with a childlike glee. He leapt onto Spencer¡¯s bed and continued to jump. Spencer squealed and joined Victor on the bed; they all laughed and bounced together. Outside the room, Vicky listened, looking surprised and disgusted. ¡°We already have some fascinating information about how space-time works,¡± Simon said once their initial outburst was over. ¡°The message did come through instantaneously, as we theorised, we didn¡¯t have to wait until tomorrow¡¯s lottery numbers were announced and send them back here. It¡¯s a causal loop, which brings your bootstrap paradox into play, Victor.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Victor replied. ¡°If we didn¡¯t send these numbers back to ourselves, who did? Do we still need to do it, or are they from a version of us in a reality that has been replaced? If we don¡¯t, would the numbers still stay in place on the drive?¡± ¡°I¡¯d say they would,¡± Simon said. ¡°Time could be like a whiteboard, you can draw a picture of a cat, erase it and draw a dog in its place, but once you do, you can¡¯t bring back the drawing of a cat. You can try and recreate it, but it won¡¯t be the exact same image. I think the numbers are the dog. Anything else would be paradoxical.¡± ¡°I guess so,¡± Victor said after a moment trying to get his head around the suggested paradox. ¡°We¡¯ve raised more questions for ourselves than we¡¯ve answered,¡± Spencer admitted. ¡°There¡¯s still a possibility that a timeline exists where we didn¡¯t receive the numbers, the miserable, penniless reality that Simon had to bring to our attention. Or has that timeline been erased and replaced by the one we¡¯re currently in?¡± ¡°You¡¯re right, Spence,¡± Simon said. ¡°We¡¯re back to theories we have no way of proving.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s put a pin in those questions for now and go get that winning ticket,¡± Spencer said, breaking their brief regression into non-elation. ¡°We can do that from here,¡± Victor said. ¡°They sell them online.¡± ¡°I think I¡¯d like a physical ticket that we can put in a frame,¡± Spencer replied. ¡°This is going the be the beginning of something bigger than all of us.¡± ¡°Good point,¡± Victor smiled. ¡°Let¡¯s get in the car.¡±
Victor stepped away from the lottery counter and held the ticket up for the others to see. ¡°Give it to me, I want to touch it,¡± Spencer asked. ¡°If it weren¡¯t coming from you, I¡¯d have had a lot of fun with what you just said.¡± Victor gave her the soon to be winning ticket, she stared at it and grinned, then started another jig, hopping from foot to foot. A passing woman gave her a bewildered look, visibly confused as to why anyone would be so pleased with a pre-draw lottery ticket. ¡°Okay, who¡¯s keeping it safe until tomorrow?¡± Victor asked. ¡°It¡¯s either me or you, Spencer. If we give it to Simon, it will be accidentally lost, shredded or burned within minutes.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t argue with that,¡± Simon admitted. ¡°Someone has to sign the back too. Who¡¯s getting the honour there? It will be on the ticket permanently.¡± Victor said. ¡°Let¡¯s draw straws,¡± Spencer said. ¡°I¡¯ll look in my bag for something we can use.¡± A few minutes later, she held out her fist, three strings protruded from between her thumb and forefinger and dangled down the back of her hand. ¡°Okay, so the one with the black marker on the tip is the winner.¡± She held the fist out to Victor, her other hand wrapped around it, keeping the contents fully covered and out of sight. Victor picked a string and pulled upward until the newly unwrapped tampon squeezed out from within Spencer¡¯s hands. The trio checked the cotton cylinder.Stolen story; please report. ¡°No mark. Simon?¡± She offered the remaining strings to him. He selected a strand and pulled out the attached tampon. There was a definite black mark on the rounded end opposite the cord. Passing shoppers were once again given the opportunity to be perplexed, this time by the sight of a chubby adult male whooping and swinging a tampon in the air. ¡°I¡¯m just happy that you found the black marker,¡± Victor said, the first marker to emerge from the bag had been red. Victor picked up a pen from the lottery desk and passed it to Simon. Spencer handed him the ticket, and he carefully signed the back. ¡°Phew,¡± he said, ¡°I was worried I might have signed the wrong name.¡± ¡°How? Who¡¯s name would you have signed?¡± Victor asked, with a confused laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I¡¯m just nervous. Want to draw again for who gets to keep a hold of it?¡± ¡°Nah, that¡¯s fine, give it to Spencer. We can keep it with the machine once we¡¯re back at hers, anyway.¡± ¡°Okay. Now we just wait for tomorrow¡¯s draw, then once it¡¯s official a winning ticket, we call the number on the back to get it verified. I¡¯ve been reading up on it, they give you a call back the day after, then send someone round to your house to deal with the transfer. I presume they¡¯ll be with us on Monday.¡± ¡°We¡¯re probably the first people to actually make plans for that before the draw,¡± Victor said. ¡°I don¡¯t know, there are some crazy people out there. Crazy and optimistic. Some people can take the Law of Attraction way too literally.¡± Spencer said. ¡°We¡¯re bending the universe to our will right now unless our future selves are playing a really unfunny prank on us. The Law of Attraction is no longer purely philosophical.¡± ¡°Slow down, Victor,¡± Spencer said. ¡°You have plenty of time to develop a God complex.¡± ¡°For I am transformed! I have left the mortal plane behind me! In truth, I have risen above the mantle of godhood!¡± Victor said with maniacal glee, followed by the obligatory muahahas. ¡°Okay, Titan, simmer down.¡± Simon handed the ticket to Spencer, and she folded it into her purse, which she placed in her bag. ¡°Alright, now that¡¯s all sorted, let¡¯s get back to that wine,¡± Spencer said.
The trio had resettled in the living room of Spencer¡¯s flat and partaken in a celebratory drink or two, of which they were now feeling the effects. Spencer and Victor had melted into the sofa while Simon lay back in a reclining chair by Victor¡¯s side. Simon was equally tipsy, despite only having a few sips from his champagne glass. Vicky was in her bedroom, so they were trying to talk quietly about their plans for the winnings. ¡°Well, renovation of the warehouse is a priority, since it¡¯s going to be our base of operations,¡± Simon said. ¡°Then, once our wages are paid, everything else should be poured back into the drive project.¡± ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± Victor said. ¡°Fixing the warehouse won¡¯t be cheap, especially since we need to expedite the work, but our wages will be negligible. How much will we have left? Our prototypes might be expensive to produce.¡± ¡°Well, the jackpot is an eight point eight million roll-over, but we don¡¯t know how many winners there¡¯ll be, so we can¡¯t finalise budget. Maybe we should have sent that information back from the future.¡± Spencer said. ¡°We could still do it,¡± Victor suggested. ¡°Well, yeah we could, but what difference would it make? The other winners have most likely already bought their tickets, and even if they haven¡¯t, it¡¯s not like we could force them to choose losing numbers. I¡¯m sure we can wait a day before we have to set out a financial plan.¡± Spencer said. ¡°Right, we can¡¯t ¡ª and probably shouldn¡¯t ¡ª cheat anyone out of their win, but we can add an extra winner. If we buy another ticket, our share will increase. Plus we get to test the drive again, and that¡¯s fun.¡± Victor said. ¡°Isn¡¯t that getting greedy? We¡¯re still cheating someone out of a portion of their win.¡± Spencer asked. ¡°In for a penny, in for a pound,¡± Victor replied. ¡°Besides, what are they going to do with their share? Squander it on extravagances? Ours will be used for the betterment of the human race. Even in the unlikely event that they give their entire win to charity, what we have planned could eventually render those charities redundant anyway.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Spencer said resignedly, knowing any argument from her wouldn¡¯t win out in the end. ¡°I¡¯ve made a note of the time,¡± Simon said. ¡°If we¡¯re set on sending that message, it should already be on the drive.¡± ¡°We sure are,¡± Victor said. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡± With a slight alcohol-induced wobble, Victor detached himself from the sofa and headed to Spencer¡¯s bedroom. Once there, he used the trackpad on the laptop to open the Received folder and, sure enough, he found a new file with the name winners.txt. Victor opened the file with a double-click, and the notepad once again appeared on-screen. There are two winners, including ourselves. Victor performed a double fist pump and mimed a yes as Spencer and Simon entered the room then read the message. They joined his celebration, Spencer trying to appear more nonchalant about it. This meant a win of over four million for them. ¡°Okay, what if we sent this message back to this afternoon?¡± Victor asked. ¡°It took a few seconds to find the numbers because the pop-up failed, so we won¡¯t notice anything amiss when there are extra files. What do you think will happen to our present if we get this information early?¡± ¡°I presume that this conversation will never have happened,¡± Simon said, ¡°and we¡¯d be back in the living room, having never had a reason to come here in the first place.¡± ¡°We also won¡¯t have learnt anything,¡± Spencer said. ¡°For experimental purposes, it will be a wasted exercise.¡± ¡°That¡¯s something we¡¯ll have to change for future messages,¡± Simon said. ¡°Maybe some kind of versioning system so we can tell how many timelines we¡¯ve created. It can¡¯t be automated as the computer will be no better than we are at differentiating one timeline from another, so we¡¯ll have to agree on a format for manual input.¡± ¡°In the meantime, we could add a postscript to our new message, letting our past selves know what¡¯s new. You know what would be interesting? Can the drive handle sending videos back yet?¡± Spencer asked. ¡°The entangled photons send information faster than the speed of light, so I should think so,¡± Simon replied. ¡°The only limitation is on the physical hard disks and how quickly they can write. They¡¯re solid state, so they¡¯re fast but not as fast as the photons. The video will appear on the drive slightly after the new text file, and hopefully before we find the numbers.¡± ¡°Okay, so if we make a video message about the change to the timeline, we can send it back to ourselves, and we¡¯ll have a video diary from a reality that no longer exists. There are some cool experimental applications after all.¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± Simon said, calling up the laptops webcam software. After they had made their video, Simon selected it, along with a file named winners.txt and chose a destination time that was one second after they had received the lottery.txt file. He clicked the on-screen button marked ¡®Send¡¯. Chapter 5 Spencer finished her wine and placed the empty glass on the coffee table, in front of where she and Victor lounged on the sofa. She reached over the arm of her seat, grabbed her bag, placed it on her lap and pulled out her purse. ¡°I just want to have another look at them,¡± she told the others. ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll get suspicious that we both used the same numbers?¡± She looked at the pair of lottery tickets, identical save for the signatures on the back. One of which was hers, the other Simon¡¯s. ¡°I doubt it,¡± Simon said, ¡°coincidence is perfectly plausible. Even if we¡¯d bought three of four tickets with the same numbers, the only thing they¡¯d think to question would be our intellect, since there¡¯s nothing to be gained from it without rigging the draw. They know that¡¯s impossible, so they just go back to thinking we¡¯re idiots. Who would ever accuse us of having knowledge of the future?¡± ¡°No one,¡± Spencer said, ¡°you¡¯re right. If we bought more tickets, they would conclude that we¡¯re morons, but there would be an investigation before they came to that conclusion. That would have caused trouble for our plans, so I¡¯m glad we stuck to just the two.¡± ¡°The jackpot for tomorrow is over eight million,¡± Victor said, ¡°so our two-thirds should work out at over five million, three hundred and thirty-three thousand, three hundred and thirty-three pounds. I agree, two was enough.¡± ¡°So, we cheated someone out of a million and a third?¡± Spencer asked. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this. They still have over two and a half million, I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be happy with that.¡± Victor said. ¡°Maybe our work will affect him or her in greater ways than those extra millions would. If not, when we¡¯re turning in a profit, we can send whoever-they-are the extra if it makes you feel better.¡± ¡°It might,¡± Spencer said with an exaggerated sulky pout, then changed the subject. ¡°Let¡¯s watch the video again.¡± She had made a copy of the video when it arrived with the numbers and stored it on her phone. Spencer cast it to the TV so they could all watch. The screen filled with the faces of all three friends, Simon on the left of the frame, Victor on the right and Spencer centre frame. Spencer was first to speak. ¡°Hi, alternate us!¡± the on-screen Spencer said. ¡°Hey!¡± Simon and Victor said in unison from either side of her. ¡°We decided to conduct an experiment regarding alternate timelines created via our actions.¡± The original trio stared at the screen in silence, they watched themselves as they spoke words that they had no recollection of ever having voiced. It was like nothing they had experienced before, not one of them could remember being so intoxicated that even a video replay couldn¡¯t cure their amnesia. The knowledge that this had happened in an entirely independent reality added another layer of idiosyncrasy to the circumstance. A part of their consciousness had been split from their allegorical soul and removed permanently. Even second time around, the effect was eerie. Video Spencer continued. ¡°In our original timeline, we received the winning lottery numbers, but not the number of winners. We decided to try and leave evidence of our reality in the one that supersedes it. Yours. If this is to be a learning experience, it would be impractical of us to allow our participation to become eliminated. We suspect that this timeline will cease to exist once you know the number of winners, so in a sense, you¡¯ve killed us.¡± ¡°Thanks for that. What did we ever do to you?¡± On-screen Simon said. ¡°Earn this.¡± On-screen Victor whimpered, overacting a tearful breakdown.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The video ended, leaving its first frame as a still on the screen. Simon, Spencer and Victor stared for a few more moments while their minds absorbed the unusual events once more. Watching the video made the reality of what they had accomplished all the more tangible. Simon was first to snap out of the reverie. ¡°It takes some getting used to.¡± he said. ¡°It does,¡± Spencer said, still a little stunned despite the knowledge of their own technology. ¡°They taught us a valuable lesson,¡± Victor said. ¡°We should keep a diary of all our work, even the small stuff, we might not recognise the acorns that are destined to become mighty oaks. Data can be attached to any messages we send back, then we know that we haven¡¯t completely erased any important puzzle pieces when we manipulate reality.¡± ¡°I wish I could show this to every creationist,¡± Simon said. ¡°Proof of reality manipulation would really put a hole in their theories of divine plans. They¡¯re not going to like it.¡± The group had always found the religious ¡ª and their ability to ignore even the most compelling of evidence ¡ª immensely frustrating. Their vexation was a large part of their motivation in creating the time drive; a substantial portion of the human race was disposed to remaining stagnant in our pursuit of knowledge, others even choosing to regress. If the masses were unwilling to advance, either through apathy or fear of what they might find ahead, the team were more than prepared to give them a firm push. ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯ll be any part of this that the religious will be fans of, to be honest,¡± Victor said. ¡°Do you think our alternate selves felt it when they were replaced?¡± Victor asked. ¡°I very much doubt it,¡± Simon replied. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s more like being rewound on a video. Time gradually runs backwards until it meets the point where the timeline skews. Not literally of course, but time is relative. It could be that time is moving both forwards and backwards simultaneously, the future and the past both existing in the same instant; or maybe there is no time, it¡¯s just our physical nature that makes us experience time linearly.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like they¡¯re new theories,¡± Spencer said. ¡°Of course not,¡± Simon replied. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to answer Victor¡¯s question by illustrating that, even though we have harnessed it, our minds still can¡¯t comprehend the nature of time itself. We¡¯re unlikely to be conscious of reality being manipulated around us while our brains¡¯ ability to perceive it is so limited. If the theory of the multiverse is correct, then we haven¡¯t caused anything that doesn¡¯t already occur naturally. If infinite universes are existing alongside ours, one for each and every variance of possibility, then our changes are nothing new, you can¡¯t add to infinity. We won¡¯t be conscious of the realities we create if we can¡¯t perceive the alternates that are already there. Alternate universes could be like cul-de-sacs, the reality ends when a new event takes place, it goes no further linearly, but still exists in its own bubble of time and space while future events play out in the universes that sprung from the parent¡¯s possibilities. Then there¡¯s the possibility that the reality from which our video originated could still exist, continuing on after they sent the message.¡± ¡°I think we¡¯ve learnt more about quantum physics over the past few hours than anyone in the whole scientific community for the past century,¡± Spencer said, ¡°but we¡¯re still not really sure what the hell is going on.¡± ¡°Like I said,¡± Simon reminded her, ¡°it¡¯s unfathomable via our limited perceptions.¡± ¡°I wonder how different this timeline is now,¡± Victor asked. ¡°Well, we only decided to get another ticket because of the winner message so our share will have increased by over a million in comparison to the previous reality,¡± Simon replied, ¡°but who knows what other smaller changes occurred. Especially since the video didn¡¯t go into any other detail. One thing¡¯s for sure, all this has highlighted the rudimental nature of the drive system, it does need some rework to incorporate all this new information.¡± ¡°Yeah, first we need to fix the notifications for new messages. Maybe we can write a phone app and send via push, so we don¡¯t have to be at the drive.¡± Victor said. ¡°That would be much more convenient. Then we need some kind of indicator for attachments that are a record of erased timelines,¡± Simon added. ¡°I¡¯m getting a headache from all this sciencing, plus I¡¯m probably a little bit too drunk to handle it,¡± Spencer said. ¡°Yeah,¡± Victor said, ¡°Let¡¯s take a sciencing break until after the win tomorrow. It¡¯s all a little overwhelming.¡± Chapter 6 Spencer, Simon and Victor were once more sitting in Spencer¡¯s living room, side by side on the sofa. Subconsciously, the big moment had brought them to need physical proximity, group hugs were a likely occurrence. ¡°It¡¯s crazy,¡± Spencer said, ¡°I know it¡¯s a foregone conclusion, but I still can¡¯t help but feel nervous for the draw; like it still might not happen.¡± ¡°It¡¯s most likely because our minds are fully conditioned with the knowledge that nothing is a certainty, other than the laws of physics.¡± Simon said, ¡°We may have repealed those laws, but it might take a while for our minds to catch up.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll just make do with Dutch courage for now,¡± Spencer said as she poured herself another glass of wine. The trio had a feast of chips and dips, pizza and wine on the coffee table. Vicky was out on the town with her friends for the night, and most likely not coming home till the very early hours of the morning, so they could celebrate in secret. They had decided to keep the win to themselves to avoid drawing attention to their work, for which they had developed a front organisation. The cover was only partly false, as the business would deal with technological innovation, using Simon¡¯s warehouse as a think tank base of operations. Simon was planning to make himself a sleeping area in the building so he could live there and keep an eye on the drive; he may have lost his home, but he wouldn¡¯t be homeless. Spencer and Victor had spent most of the day under Gary¡¯s watchful eye, helping Simon move the rest of his things from the flat to a rented moving trailer. Victor would return the trailer tomorrow, once they had emptied its contents into the warehouse. Builders were due to arrive on Monday to fix the west wall, to begin with; then they were to replace windows, doors and ultimately make it livable for Simon with a shower and kitchen. He¡¯d need to sleep in the warehouse tomorrow night to make sure that nothing was stolen, the west wall void was temporarily boarded while waiting to be repaired. Simon would be living in a building site until all was finished. He had decided to keep the space open-plan and not add walls to make his bedroom, he would place a bed in a corner of the upper floor ¡ª where most of their work would take place ¡ª and surround it with screens. Simon felt a great relaxation while in his workspace, separating himself from that source of comfort was counterintuitive to him. Though still in need of some renovation, the upper floor was mostly intact, the group could work there without being disturbed by the builders, shifting temporarily to the lower level when work there was complete. The drive would look like a heavily modded gaming PC and didn¡¯t create any large, conspicuous whirling wormholes through dimensional space and time, there were no Wheel of Fortune style spinning wheels behind their seats or vehicles leaving flame trails. They didn¡¯t have to worry too much about what the workers saw, they would just need to keep the discussion of future events to a minimum. The three scientists ¡ª though already feeling a natural buzz of excitement ¡ª became all the more alert once the pre-draw game show came to a close. Soon enough, the show¡¯s host handed over to the part of the studio where the lottery ball machine stood. His co-host welcomed the audience, reminded them that there was a double roll-over eight million pound jackpot up for grabs and engaged in the usual officiating of the security features for the draw. Eventually, the host wished the viewers good luck, and the over-sized red start button was pressed. The balls began to spin within the large clear plastic globe. The trio moved to the edge of their seats in anticipation of the first number. A ball popped out of the machine and rolled down the metal track to the end point. It was marked with a number six.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°Oh, my God, it¡¯s really happening,¡± Spencer beamed. Another ball rolled to a stop next to the six, this one marked forty-two. ¡°Yes!¡± Victor shouted with a fist pump. When thirty-four rolled into place, they were all standing and whooping, almost missing eleven¡¯s appearance. Next up was twenty-two and Spencer, Simon and Victor screamed with excitement. The last number popped out of the machine, rolled down the track to fill the last spot at the end - forty-four. The three bounced and jumped for joy, then crowded into a scrum style group hug, spinning in circles. ¡°Oh. My. God!¡± Spencer cried, holding out the last syllable until she almost ran out of breath. Simon grinned. ¡°It begins,¡± he said dramatically, grinning from ear to ear. ### Spencer and Simon each called the number on the back of their own lottery tickets to report their wins. Their operators took the confirmation code digits, and they were told that the numbers checked out, as expected, the tickets were genuine after all, it was just the method of choosing the numbers that was slightly shady. They were congratulated and informed of the procedures and regulations for collecting their win. The tickets would be further verified, and a representative would call them back, most likely on Sunday to arrange a meeting for the official transferal of their winnings. As planned, the trio spent Sunday morning to early afternoon moving Simon¡¯s things into the warehouse. During the move, both Simon and Spencer were called to arrange a meeting for their winnings, Simon requested to meet at his new living space, and Spencer chose her flat. They had both mentioned to the representative that their friend also won on the same draw, to avoid questions later. Their cover story involved a shared Chinese takeout and identically printed numbers on their fortune cookie paper slips. The representative was secretly confused when the story was delivered like an alibi rather than an amusing anecdote but said that it would make a good story for the publicity. Simon and Spencer both vehemently stated that they wished to remain anonymous, their guilty demeanour adding to the representatives confusion. Simon had moved his bed and chairs into the warehouse, he had very little in the way of furniture in his previous flat ¡ª due to the technology clutter ¡ª but it would be sufficient while he took watch on his first night in the warehouse. The boards nailed to the west wall hole weren¡¯t a huge deterrent for possible intruders, but it would at least keep draughts to a minimum and keep Simon warmer during the night. Simon had a space heater to place next to his bed for the night, should it get cold. Fortunately, the weather was fairly mild at that moment. He showered at Victor¡¯s house on Sunday evening since he would have no access to amenities when morning arrived. The warehouse had a toilet and a sink in the one small WC. Simon¡¯s first night in his new home went without a hitch. There was a slightly annoying rattle from the plywood boards, but at least there were no attempts at breaking and entering. He awoke bright and early, an hour or two before the builders appeared and began work on fixing the west wall. The lottery¡¯s representative, Claire, arrived during the afternoon at both places of residence. The funds were transferred to their bank accounts and an agreement was made for anonymity. Claire then left the new millionaires to their plans. Simon, Victor and Spencer paid a visit to their local bank and opened a business account to which they had joint access. They had chosen to register the business name ¡®PRE-Innovations¡¯, since that would be what they were doing, pre-innovating. Taking innovations and making them occur at an earlier time. The PRE was capitalised to represent the first letter in each of their surnames. Simon and Spencer both made transfers into the new account, and their business became a multi-million pound corporation. Available on Amazon Now! The Kindle version is now available on Amazon in all countries. US: https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B076HJS48H UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B076HJS48H DE: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B076HJS48H FR: https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B076HJS48H ES: https://www.amazon.es/dp/B076HJS48HStolen story; please report. IT: https://www.amazon.it/dp/B076HJS48H NL: https://www.amazon.nl/dp/B076HJS48H JP: https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B076HJS48H BR: https://www.amazon.com.br/dp/B076HJS48H CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B076HJS48H MX: https://www.amazon.com.mx/dp/B076HJS48H AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B076HJS48H IN: https://www.amazon.in/dp/B076HJS48H If you''ve read it and have the time to write a review, I''d be most grateful. Thanks for reading y''all! Incremental Removal Starting Tomorrow Hi! Thank you to everyone who has read, or is in the process of reading my novel. As the paperback and Kindle versions are now available, I will begin deleting two chapters a day starting tomorrow. I''ll begin with Chapter 7, so 1 to 6 are still available as a preview. Hopefully, this should give everyone who is in the middle of reading the story enough time to finish.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Don''t forget to check the last chapter for the links to the retail version, if you fancy buying it, or just want to do me a favour in writing a review. Thanks again to everyone.