A Timely Knight

A Chance to Evolve

They were now in what looked like an office of some kind. Timothy had never felt so intimidated. He was used to being around machines; he owned a factory, after all. But looking around this room made him feel small, somehow, insignificant. A sentiment he had never felt before.

There were several small window-looking devices on top of the desks; some were grey, and some others were glowing with bright colours, just like the one Don Osgood had shown to them the last time they had visited him. In front of them, a board was filled with numbers and strange drawings that Timothy couldn't even begin to understand. Piles of papers were distributed along the rectangular desks, some even laying on the floor, apparently forgotten. The white walls were a constant throughout the Foundation, the brightness of it all headache-inducing.

As the doctor entered the room, whispering to himself, Timothy considered the possibility that the man was indeed insane. Silently, he glanced at Emmu, who had the same curious yet distrustful expression as before. They both, like the doctor, were now in white coats. He had told them that, in order to blend in, they needed to look like the rest of employees. It had worked; in the almost ten minutes they had been walking amongst the sea of Foundation workers, they hadn't been stopped once.

Now, standing in this strange, clear and frankly terrifying room, Timothy heard his foot tapping against the floor. Taking a deep breath, he tried to control himself, but his anticipation was getting the best out of him. As the doctor looked between the stacks of paper, Timothy cracked his knuckles, trying to remind the doctor of their presence. When it didn't work, he opted for a more direct approach.

"What did you mean back there? When you said you sacrificed humanity? Did you mean it in the literal sense?"

The doctor grimaced. "I'm afraid so. Ambition can get you to a lot of places, my boy. Sometimes, though, the consequences are far greater than you ever dared to dream."

Timothy rolled his tongue, struggling to keep himself from attacking his father-in-law.

"Explain yourself," he demanded, taking the gun out of his coat pocket.

"Keep that away, boy, no need to get violent." The doctor stood straight and looked at them with something akin to awe.

If he were back home, Timothy would've relished at the admiration. Now, however, he couldn't help but feel slightly disturbed by it.

"Then do as he said," Emmu said, using the same tone as his. "Did you provoke this war? Were you responsible for the devastation we saw outside?"

"Oh goodness me, no," the doctor rapidly denied as he walked to the other side of the room, seemingly in search of an elusive something. "Humans caused the deterioration of this world, it's been going on for years. Pollution, exploitation of natural resources, systematic extermination of flora and fauna alike, climate change. The War certainly didn't help, despite no nuclear weapons being used," he raised his eyes, as if considering his next words, before adding: "Well, not yet, anyway."

"What caused this conflict, then?" Emmu asked, his Master curiosity getting the best out of him. "Back home we don't really know much about the Final War except that it was...well, final."

"Earth's nations have been in constant competition for centuries," the doctor replied, barely concerned about Emmu's use of the word final. "A few years ago, what used to be the Space Race turned into the Spacetime Race. As it became clear that the end of the world was nigh, nations became obsessed with finding the key to time travel, thinking they could simply go back and erase all their past mistakes. Your mother and I, we were part of the European team. And we were good."