|Professor Justin Thyme|
Posts : 22
Points : 26
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Join date : 2010-01-25
Location : Anywhere within 10,000 galaxies
character sheet: Professor Justin Thyme
|Subject: A Life Forgotten (Dr. Who + Primeval) Sun Jan 31, 2010 7:23 pm|| |
The problem with traveling the Universe is that one inevitably accrues debt. A meal here, a bit of information there, it adds up. Since it’s impossible to carry every type of currency, one ends up leaving IOUs, like bread crumbs, across creation.
Nick Cutter IV, once saved me from a rampaging T-Rex. I landed in London, in 2154, to return the favor by giving him evidence about who had created the time anomalies his family had studied for so long.
“Professor Justin Thyme,” I told the hover bot which greeted me at the door to the ARC.
“Access granted,” it said in a buzzing voice.
“Take me to Nick,” I said.
“More than one Nick here, of course. Professor Nick Cutter,” I said.
The hover bot hummed and buzzed for a long minute before finally addressing me. “Professor Nick Cutter, one of the founding members of the ARC program, served as chief scientist to the ARC until his death in 2009, at the hands of Helen Cutter.”
“Wait,” I said, somewhat confused. “If the original Nick Cutter was killed in 2009, how did Claudia Brown have his baby in 2012?”
My host hummed, buzzed, and spun as it searched its databanks. “One entry found for the phrase, ‘Claudia Brown.’ Professor Nick Cutter claimed a Claudia Brown once existed, but was erased from the time stream, by a trip through anomaly, only to be replaced by Jenny Lewis.”
I gulped hard. “And the Cutter line never progressed beyond the original Professor Nick Cutter?”
Suddenly, I recalled having been saved from the T-Rex by a Dr. William Temple, but I knew that wasn’t right. Without a moment to lose, I ran back to the Time Hopper where I found my Orb Of Time glowing brightly, indicating that history was wrong. With no time to apply for clearance, I landed my ship inside the garage like main lab of 2009’s ARC, climbed out, leaned against the ship, folded my arms, and announced to the stunned staff, “Well boys and girls, you’ve really screwed to pooch this time.”