Fixes (Part One)
At first everything was a little blurry. He rubbed his eyes and blinked, which helped a little. Once he’d got out of bed, Captain Hyatt’s mind quickly began sorting things into two simple categories: important and not important. The small but growing pile of unwashed clothes in the corner was classified as not important, as was the ringing alarm clock, the to-do list that sat patiently on his bedside table, and just about everything else. The one thing the captain’s mind currently categorised as important was coffee.
Sadly, the captain reflected, it was a problem he’d have to take care of himself. Then he imagined a world in which the human body could create its own caffeine. There would be countless working hours saved and grumpiness would be a thing of the past. It would change the world overnight. The captain tried to make a mental note of the idea, but since he hadn’t had his coffee yet, it slipped from his cerebral grasp leaving behind a hollow, ironic ringing sound as it faded.
Funnily enough, this begs the question as to how the very first coffee drinker managed to pick, properly roast, and grind the appropriate beans at 8am without having had their early-morning caffeine fix. A group of the first Jesuits set out to find the ancestors of this man with the hope of discovering how his monumental achievement came about, but discovered firstly that it was a woman, and secondly that she’d died of a stress-induced heart attack in her early thirties without having told the story. Some you win, some you lose.
With the revolutionary idea fading quickly in his mind, the captain turned himself towards the door and hoped his legs would continue his quest on their own. They did. The door opened and an unmistakable smell that his mind immediately classified as important wafted up through his nostrils and into his brain, where it set off all sorts of pleasant chemical reactions.
Out of habit, he turned right, and the smell quickly became stronger. Then, he walked towards the door at the end of the corridor, and planned to continue walking regardless of whether or not the door opened for him. It did. He turned to the right again. There was something blocking his path, but his mind assured him that it was not important.
Project Officer Aled Lowe was stood by the dining table proof-reading a report when the captain entered the room and turned towards him. Without taking his eyes off the report he said hello to the captain. There was no response, and he looked up. When he saw the look on the captain's face, he wisely got out of the way. The man walked straight over the spot where he had been standing and ignored the greeting. He stopped in front of the coffee machine. Suddenly there was a new item on the important list: mug. He got one from the cupboard, poured, took a few sips, and sighed a contented sigh.
Lowe watched the captain sit at the table with his coffee, as did Biologist James Clayton, who was sat on the other side.
‘Good morning, captain, how are you?’ said Clayton tentatively, and there was a noticeable tension that hung in the air with the words.
‘Good,’ he replied. ‘How’s the work going?’
Clayton looked at Lowe, who looked at his report.
‘It appears as though this civilisation has begun its industrial revolution, but it’s stagnated very quickly.’
‘You mean to say we’ve been sent over a million light-years to study and contact a society that’s unable to get coal out of the ground?’
‘Yes sir, pretty much,’ said Lowe with a shrug. Although Captain Hyatt was technically in charge, he often took the advice of his project officer, who was in his early forties with greying blonde hair. His main field of knowledge was classical physics, but he also had practical knowledge of astro-navigation, mechanical engineering, and time panelling.
‘What now, then? Something must have caused this,’ the captain said.
‘Yes sir, that’s usually the case. I have a feeling I know what the cause is on this occasion,’ Lowe said, sitting next to Clayton.
The other two looked at him silently.
He pointed at the captain’s coffee mug, the captain looked down, then back up, then back at the mug again.
‘No porcelain?’ he ventured.
Lowe shook his head.
‘Uuh... they got distracted making saucers like Dresden?’
‘Nice guess, but no,’ said Lowe. He sat back a little in his chair and crossed his arms in front of him, then continued. ‘It’s actually coffee. Or the complete lack of it; no coffee plants, no caffeine, no coffee. It might seem like an inconsequential difference, but it’s believed that there wouldn’t have been an industrial revolution on Earth if it hadn’t been for coffee. Before it was introduced to the western world, most people drank mainly alcoholic drinks. They were filling, they kept the peasants from thinking too much and getting de-spirited, and the fermentation made it less risky than drinking water, since alcohol kills the majority of microbes in the liquid. Of course, they didn’t know that at the time, they just knew that alcohol drinkers were less likely to die of mystery ailments.
‘Coffee afforded the safety, along with improvements in energy and concentration, that allowed the rise of skilled workers that were vital for industrialisation to happen. I’ve never seen someone drunk operating a cotton mill, but I imagine it’s pretty funny. It would also be an absolute disaster.
‘It’s too late to introduce them to coffee now, but perhaps if we take a time panel, go back 400 years or so, and introduce a wealthy landowner to it, I’m sure that’ll sort things out.’
The captain mulled this over for a moment. Time panels were always a last resort, but it appeared they were needed for this civilisation.
‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but before you go, I want a report on the options of—’
To the relief of the other two, the captain’s tedium was cut off by a soft vibration accompanied by a low-pitched humming. Two men had appeared at the far end of the room holding a large black bar between them and looking slightly sheepish. The captain looked at Lowe and Clayton, and then back at the new arrivals.
‘Um,’ began one of them, ‘we're Lowe and Clayton from a little bit in the future. About 31 hours ship time. Can I suggest you try something else.’
‘Something else to what,’ asked the captain, a little disoriented.
‘The plan you’ve just agreed on’.
‘You weren't even here for that’.
‘Yes we were, we’re sitting right over there,’ Clayton from the future pointed out in a mildly exasperated tone.
The captain looked back at Lowe and Clayton, eager for someone to come to his defence, then glared at Present Clayton for a moment.
Present Lowe, still sat with his arms crossed, cleared his throat and addressed himself. ‘What do you suggest we do instead, then?’ he asked.
‘How the hell should we know,’ Future Lowe replied with a shrug, ‘we’re the ones who messed it up in the first place.’
Lowe considered this. ‘Good point,’ he conceded, and there was a general murmuring of voices.
‘Okay, okay,’ started the captain. When he had quiet, he looked down at the table for a moment, then turned to address his temporal guests. ‘Instead of arguing amongst yourselves, why don’t you tell us how exactly you “messed it up”? Maybe then we can come up with a better idea and avoid this mess all together.’
Future Clayton frowned and looked to one side, then looked back at the man stood next to him. ‘He’s got a point, if they sort the problem out, then we won’t exist. Existing is one of my favourite things to do,’ he protested.
‘No, it’s okay. You’ll still exist, things will just be a bit different is all,’ the other man explained.
‘Aah,’ Clayton said agreeably.
‘Couldn’t you have just found another way of fixing the problem?’ the captain asked.
‘Well we thought about that, sir,’ said Lowe, ‘but it would have been quite elaborate, and it would have risked changing quite a lot. We think our original plan was decent, we just need to use a little diplomacy.’
‘It was Lowe’s fault, he—’
‘Quiet,’ said the captain.
‘Can he order me about?’ Clayton said as he turned to look at the man next to him again.
‘Yes,’ said the two Lowes and the captain in chorus.
‘Why don’t you tell us what happened, Lowe?’ enquired the captain. Both Lowes looked silently at the captain. After a moment, he continued. ‘Uuh, him,’ he said, pointing at Future Lowe, who looked down at the floor for a moment, drew breath, then looked back up and towards the captain...