By. G.P. Avants

Here is a selection from the story, Chronolocity: A Fistful of Chronotons we meet H & E two young time travelers who are sent back in time to investigate Mr. Cross’ tampering with history. In this scene H & E observe Levy Roarke and discuss some if the issues that they have had to face while on their covert mission. 

“He is right here.”

“I am still unsure how this meeting is going to help fix things.”

“We have to trust SIM,” a whispered female voice responds. “You have to have a little 

faith in me, too.”

The deep male voice mutters, “Our first assignment as a couple and we get caught in a 

time web.”

“The A6 knows that this time convergence is one of the keys to undoing Mr. Cross’ time 

tampering.”

“First that T-Rex—” 

“Plato was not a T-Rex.” 

“Whatever. He eats like one,” the male voice continues. “We were almost eaten and 

caught hacking the Chronostruct.” 

“Almost.” 

“Not to mention we sidestepped those Fixies, the two temporal anomalies, and on top of 

that we have been dodging people like…him,” he grumbles. “What’s next, doppelgangers?” 

They both look at Levy who is gently snoring through a quivering bluish-green haze. “It 

is very odd to see him as a child,” the female sounds nostalgic.The thin exo-shield 

separating them from the boys allows them to observe the past without tampering with it, 

“You are smiling. Why?” The male voice sounds concerned. “Do you have any concept of 

how dangerous altering time can be?”

“It is just that, I love the excitement and the danger.” The female voice lightly chuckles to 

herself. 

“You would.”

She giggles, “What can I say? It runs in the family.”

“I love you, however, you scare me sometimes.”

She places a hand on his large arm. “The A6 would not have given us an assignment like 

this, Dear, if they did not think we were capable.”

“I imagine…you are right.” He sighs deeply.

“Are you ready?” the female voice asks.

“Please promise me you will stick to the script.”

“As best I can.” She catches herself. “Remember the code names? “Yes. You are ‘H’ and I am 

“E’.”

She snickers. “What now?’ 

 “We are a funny team.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, our code names are HE as in HE, HE. That is…funny.”

“H, I am glad you crack yourself up.”

“Remember his is a SO.”

“That is correct. This boy’s generation set that dilemma into motion, correct?”

“Yes, so I’ll have to assume his dialect with its slang and word contractions.”

“You just did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did it again,” he mumbles. “It sounds peculiar to shorten words and water down 

language?”

“That is -I mean- that’s the way they talk, talked.”

“Somehow you find enjoyment in downgrading the art of conversation.” E clicks his 

tongue. “I will not do it. You can be the spokesperson and I will just observe.” “I intend to.” 

 “What’s going on?” Levy sits back in his padded chair. “Are you taking me home?” His 

fingers squeeze into the armrests. I’m ready, but what about the others? Levy looks to see 

if the other boys have woken up, too. 

The bluish-green blister gives off an underlying fizz and hum. The curved wall across 

from Levy bows and jiggles like gelatin. Two figures emerge. One is a tall, athletically built 

female and the other a squarish, large-shouldered man. They are either camouflaged head-to-toe 

to blend into the sea-colored ring they just passed through or their clothing is made from the 

same material. 

“Whoa, are you…time travelers?” Levy mumbles, still shaking off sleep. “Or is this 

another nightmare?” 

“Yes,” H speaks up, “and no.” She raises her hand. “Don’t…freak out, Levy. We’re here 

to help.” 

Levy realizes that he has been squeezing the arms of the chair tightly. “Did Mr. Cross 

send you to take me back home?” 

The hooded figures look at each other a moment. “Ah, we aren’t working with Mr. 

Cross.”

“No,” The man speaks gruffly, “Why would you assume that?” “So, you are working with 

Mr. Buckley, then?”

“No, well, not yet anyway,” H explains.

“Who are you working for?” Levy slides back in his chair. 

 “You ask too many questions. Can you just believe us?” 

H puts her hand on her partner’s forearm. “No, Levy. We are part of a team sent here to 

investigate a…time disturbance.” 

“Wait,” he readjusts himself in his chair. “Did he do something illegal, he’s not supposed 

to be fixing history, is he?” Told you that his story seemed too good to be true. His story? Isn’t it someone else’s story? 

“Before we try to explain, you need to know who we are.” H extends her hand, “You can 

call me H.” She notices Levy’s hesitancy to take her hand. 

“H?” The man grumbles under his breath. “Be careful about just how much interaction 

you allow yourself with historical figures.” 

“Levy responds to touch. That is how he connects with the reality of things.” She wiggles 

her fingers. “Touch my hand. I think you’ll understand we are who we say we are.” 

Levy takes her hand. “What?” 

They are calling ME a historical figure? 

Yes! That means I do make history!