Cut Segments from "In Flux"
by
Kristen Sheley

Written: March 1999 - March 2000

Word Count: 7700 words

Background Notes: When I originally started "In Flux," it wasn't with the idea that Clara and Doc were having any more kids. In fact, from what I (vaguely) remember, this story was started right before or right around the time I met Mary Jean Holmes. (Er, in a manner of speaking; she contacted me through e-mail after seeing a mention of her work on her page, and reading some of my fiction.) Thus began a friendship, as well as her wonderful mentorship to me -- which resulted in (I think) tighter and better stories. And the permission or nerve to change things in Hill Valley.

So -- out went the "cartoon-ized" personalities of Jules and Verne (eh, more or less.... I kinda got rid of Jules' speech thing in the subsequent revisions of past stories, and will continue to fix that when I resume revising the old ones once more) and in came Emily.

Anyway, this stuff was written prior to those decisions and that influence. Thus, the beginning chapters were completely and wholeheartedly different. I tried to retain a few key points, but in the end more got cut than made the cut for the IF that eventually came to pass. This is probably one of my longer cuts, and one that doesn't make me cringe 100% as some of the other long ones do; I was actually kind of sad to part with this, but I'm satisfied by the way IF ended up, too.



Chapter One

Friday, May 15, 1987
7:12 P.M.
Hill Valley, California

Propped on a dusty shelf, the picture on the box was immediately enticing to nine-year-old Verne Brown. A muscular man wearing a Viking helmet, his chest bare, thrusting a sword to the air. Next to him knelt a scantily clad woman with long blond hair, leaning on a sword of her own. Conan the Barbarian was the name of the movie, and Verne wanted to rent it immediately.

"Check this out!" he said to his brother, Jules, who was examining some video boxes to Verne's left. He pointed to the video box. "Let's get this. It looks really cool!"

Jules eyed the cover. "What's the plot?" he asked.

Verne shrugged. "I dunno. I didn't look. But I heard kids at school talking about this movie once and they said it was really awesome. There are sword fights and lots of action."

Jules took the box off the shelf and skimmed the back of it. "It looks like it might be good," he concurred. "But Mother and Father probably won't go for it."

Verne frowned, glancing over at his parents at the other end of Hill Valley's video store. "Why not?"

Jules held the box out to his brother, his finger under the rating of the film at the back. "It's rated R," he said matter-of-factly, "and you know Mother's views on that."

Verne did, indeed. While their father could be persuaded, on occasion, to allow his sons indlugence in such forbidden things as ice cream late at night, or a popular but somewhat violent film, their mother ruled with an iron fist on those matters. Verne was surprised they could watch PG-rated movies, personally -- and even that wasn't always true if there was too much violence or gore in the film.

Like Jules and I haven't seen violence before, Verne thought, rolling his eyes. History could be extremely violent, and Verne had seen a lot of history firsthand the last few years of his life. What was so different if he saw someone have a swordfight in the Middle Ages or in a Hollywood film? None, in his opinion, except that his mom thought the one that was faked was somehow worse than the one that was real.

"I'm still gonna ask, though," Verne said, taking the box out of his brother's hands. "Maybe Mom and Dad won't notice the rating."

Jules sighed, doubtful, remaining where he was as his brother weaved through the aisles to their parents, at the other side of the store. Clara Brown was examining the box of Gone With the Wind while their father was scanning the titles of new releases that were on the opposite wall.

"We found something," Verne announced, stepping next to his mother and flashing the box quickly before her.

Clara looked up from the video in her hands and set the selection back on the shelf before her. "What is it?" she asked, deftly taking the box from Verne's hand before he could see it coming. She glanced at the front of the video box, frowned a little, then turned it so she could read the back. The frown deepend.

"No," Clara said after a moment, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, you'll have to get something else."

Verne pouted immediately. "Why?" he asked. "It looks good and all the kids at school have seen it!"

"I highly doubt that," Clara said, handing her son the box. "It's not only rated R, but it deals with cults, sorcery, and the plot is nothing but one of revenge. Hardly the content most parents would approve of."

"But all the cool kids have seen it!" Verne insisted, his voice rising a little. "You wouldn't want me to look stupid in front of them, would you? They said it was a really good movie!"

Dr. Emmett Brown, his father, turned around and gave him a stern look. "Your mother said no, Verne," he said. "Find something else."

Verne scowled, tempted to argue the cause further but knowing it would get him nothing but being grounded or otherwise punished. He sulked back to the action/adventure portion of the video store where his brother waited and slammed the video box back on the shelf.

"They said no," Jules observed, looking up from his examination of the other titles available.

"Yes," Verne muttered. "Man, it's so unfair! Why can't they let us see it?"

"You're not thinking clearly, Verne," Jules said, rather calmly. "There are other avenues of approach. Mother and Father brought us here in the first place so we can get a movie to view tonight while they go out."

"Yeah, so?" Verne wasn't in the mood for his brother's patronizing attitude. "What's your point?"

"Martin is supposed to come over to supervise us," Jules said, lowering his voice. "I'm fairly certain he could rent the movie for us, and Mother and Father would never have to find out."

The idea was definitely a possibility, Verne realized. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it. "Yeah," he said slowly, calming down. "You're right. Marty would do it."

"So let's pick something that will appease the parents," Jules said. He made a face. "Even if it is something like The Sword in the Stone again."

* * *

Marty McFly stared over the top of his textbook at Verne and Jules as they stood together at the end of the couch. "You want me to do what?" he asked, not certain he had heard right.

Verne repeated the request. "Rent the movie, Conan the Barbarian. It looks really cool."

Marty sighed. When Doc Brown had called him the night before and asked him if he could possibly come over to stay with his kids Friday night, while he and Clara went out to dinner and a lecture at the University about some new theories on [time travel], he had accepted partially because Jennifer was currently out of town -- a relative of hers was getting married over the weekend -- and partially because of the stack of homework he had to do. "Watching" Jules and Verne usually meant hanging out at the Brown household and making sure neither kid killed each other or got any wild idea in their head to play with some of their father's sophisticated creations; therefore he had brought along a backpack filled with books to both keep himself entertained and prepare for his midterms the following week.

"Didn't you guys already get a movie?" Marty asked, seeming to remember Doc or Clara mentioning that fact on their way out the door.

The boys exchanged a look. "That may be the case, but we would prefer to see this other one," Jules said finally.

Marty closed his text and shifted from his semi-reclined position on the couch, giving the boys his full attention. "Conan the Barbarian..." he muttered. "I've see that." He raised an eyebrow at the kids. "It doesn't strike me as the kind of movie your parents would want you to see -- especially your mother!"

Verne's cheeks flushed faintly. "It's okay with her," he said, a little defensively.

Marty crossed his arms, sketptical. "Oh yeah? Then why didn't you get the movie from the store?"

"They were out," Jules said.

"Then how do you expect me to get it? Drive to the next town over?" Marty shook his head, opening his book again. "Sorry, guys, but no. I've got a ton of studying to do. A lot of my grades for this term depend on if I pass the midterms next week. I bombed most of my tests last month, thanks to being sick and everything else."

"Which is why it would be a great idea to get us the movie," Verne said, brightening. "Then we'll leave you alone, right Jules?"

Jules nodded. "I think that's a fair bargain."

Marty sighed again. "Why do you both want to see that movie so bad?"

"It looks cool," Verne said. "And all the kids at school've talked about it before."

Marty could understand that, a little. He'd seen the movie when it first came out, sneaking into the theater with some friends because of its enticing R-rating. His mother would've had a fit if she found out, though.

"I can't see many fourth or fifth graders seeing that film," he said.

Jules looked mildly offended. "I'm in the sixth grade," he said. "They skipped me this year, remember?"

Now that he thought about it, Marty did recall that happening sometime at the beginning of the school year -- and knew from future experiance that it would be only the beginning for the very intelligent Brown child. "Still," he amended, "you guys are kind of young for it, and your parents would kill me if they found out. I don't need that on top of everything else in my life right now."

Verne pouted immediately. "Come on, Marty," he urged. "Jules an' I will pay for it."

"Nope," Marty said, opening his book again and relocating where he had left off in his readings. "Not interested."

Verne drew in a breath, likely in preparation to voice a rebuttal, but Jules spoke before he had the chance. "All right," he said rather smoothly, something in his voice causing Marty to look up immediately. "I guess we'll have to find something else to do."

Verne looked as shocked by Jules' words as Marty was suspicious. "What do you guys have planned?" he asked.

Jules' eyes widened, his expression one of wounded innocence. "How could you think of such a thing, Martin?" he asked. "Verne and I could not rent the movie ourselves. We're too young."

Marty frowned as he tried to think like the boys might. He couldn't really see anything they might have up their sleeves. The time machines were definitely out, what with all the heavy security precautions that Doc Brown had taken; Jules and Verne weren't the type to actually steal or shoplift something; and the idea that either of them could pretend to be at least 17 years old was amusing at best.

Still, something wasn't right; he just couldn't put his finger on it. The kids seemed to be giving up with too little argument.

"I don't know," he said slowly. "You seemed to want to see that movie really bad only a minute ago."

"We can wait," Jules said, which merely increased Marty's feeling of suspicion. That he was doing most of the talking over the matter, when Verne was the one who had shown the most enthusiasm earlier, spoke strongly that something was afoot.

"Is that so?" Marty asked. "How does Verne feel about that?" he added, looking at the blond boy.

Verne squirmed, obviously fighting some internal battle. "I still wanna see it," he muttered, ignoring a hard look from his brother. "I don't want to wait!"

"Too bad," Jules muttered. Marty shrugged at the complaint, looking back to the textbook page.

"If you aren't lying to me, then your parents should be able to take you guys to get the movie later this weekend," he said. "But I'm not going to be the one to do that."

"Come on, Verne," Jules said, grabbing his brother's arm and dragging him towards the stairs, even as the younger Brown was opening his mouth to further the cause. "We should let Martin study."

Verne got a "but" out before falling abruptly silent. Marty heard the kids' clomping steps as they went up the stairs, then the faint sound of a door closing from down the second floor hallway. He sighed at the sudden quiet, still having the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right.

I know those kids are up to something, he thought. They gave up way too easily on that video. What the hell could they have up their sleeve?

As much as he tried to think like the boys might, however, Marty came up with nothing. Finally, he gave up and shifted his mind back to his schoolwork.

* * *

Jules closed the door to their room and scowled at his brother. "Nice one, Verne," he said. "You almost blew it!"

"What are you talkin' about, Jules?" Verne asked, rolling his eyes as he sat down on the edge of his bed. "I thought you wanted to see that movie, too? You're the one who started acting weird for no reason!"

"It was not for no reason," Jules said, reminding himself to be patient with his too-clueless sibling. "I just saw that the approach we were taking was not going to get us the results we wanted."

"Well, thanks for telling me," Verne said, rolling his eyes again. "What do you have in mind, then?"

Jules walked slowly across the room, towards his desk under his window. "A little time travel excusion," he said slowly, thinking as he spoke.

Verne snorted. "Yeah, right. What do you wanna do, go ahead in time and see ourselves when we're 17 to ask if we can rent it then?" He paused. "Actually, that would be pretty cool."

"And very dangerous," Jules said, dismissing his brother's suggestion with a firm shake of his head. "No, actually I was thinking more along the lines of going back in time and seeing the movie in the theater."

"Great idea, Jules," Verne said, his tone slightly sarcastic. He flopped back on the bed, eyes on the ceiling. "We'll still be underage then, too."

Jules shrugged, having noted that little detail. "Yes, but I'm sure we could find a way to sneak into the theater."

Verne sat up, eyes wide. "You mean without paying? That's against the law!"

Jules sighed, staring outside at the dusky neighborhood streets before the house. "I know that, Verne, but I wasn't thinking along precisely those lines. As long as we are accompanied by some person over 17, we'll be allowed into the theater. All we have to do, then, is find some teenager willing to make a few extra dollars by buying our tickets."

Verne frowned for a minute, appearing to consider the idea hard. "I guess that would work," he said finally. "But unless you know a way around all of Dad's security things in the lab and with the DeLorean, we can't do it."

"I know," Jules said, a little insulted that his brother thought he had forgotten that critical point. "I'm pondering that right now. I'm sure there is some way to get around some of those codes and alarms."

The room was silent as both boys thought. "What exactly does Dad have out there?" Verne finally asked.

Jules checked off the list on his fingers. "A alarm system that is sensitve to motion, a identity-sensitive lock on the entrance to the lab, and cameras are all out in the lab. The DeLorean and the train also require some kind of code to start the vehicle, once we can find the keys to the locks on both." He paused, considering. "I think that's all Father mentioned."

"Doesn't sound too hard," Verne said.

Jules looked at him. "It's definitely not easy to get in!" he said, slightly irritated that Verne wasn't understanding that. "Who knows what numeric codes Father has set?"

Verne shrugged, not appearing very concerned. "Probably some date important to him," he said. "You know Dad."

Verne's suggestion was quite reasonable, Jules had to admit. "Still," he said, "we have to make certain that the cameras don't activate when we enter." Jules paced the length of the room, once, his hand to his mouth as he thought. "Does Father have a back-up power supply to the lab?"

Verne shrugged. "I dunno. Why don't we ask Marty?" He hopped off the bed and took only two steps to the door before Jules grabbed his arm, hard.

"No way!" he hissed. "You're not to breathe a word of this to him! He would most definitely stop us, or tell Mother or Father."

"Not necessarily," Verne said. "He might want to come along."

Jules narrowed his eyes for a moment, considering the possibility, then shook his head. "I doubt it. If he wouldn't even drive us to the video store to rent the film, why would he take us back in time to see it?"

"Marty likes time travel," Verne said. "It's possible."

Jules' gut feeling was telling him this time was different; anyway, he had other reasons for not wanting to involve their older friend in this. "Why risk it?" he asked. "We can do this ourselves, you know."

A smile spread across his younger brother's face. "Yeah!" he said, suddenly much more enthusiastic than he had been a minute ago. "We can do this alone! Just like when we saw the dinosaurs, 'cept this time we'll make sure the time machine doesn't break down!"

"I'll need to locate the precise date the film opened in Hill Valley," Jules said, half to himself. He sighed a little. "A pity that the library is closed now, although I think there might be other ways of approach to locate that answer. I don't suppose you noticed the year that the film was released on the box?"

As expected, Verne shook his head. "Maybe it's in a movie review book," he suggested. "I think Dad might have one."

The idea was quite reasonable. The boys left their room and went down the hall to their father's study, which also doubled as a library. One of these years, according to their parents, their father would move his study to the ground floor, where their mother's sewing room currently was, Clara would move her hobby into the window seat alcove in the very large master bedroom, and then Jules and Verne could have their own rooms. They day couldn't come soon enough for either boy, but each time they had brought the subject up -- even united in their goal -- their parents cited being "too busy" to execute such a project. Jules was planning on making that his twelfth birthday gift in January if the long-promised move hadn't occured by then. A room of his own would be better than any materialistic gift, as far as he was concerned.

Doc Brown's office was extremely disorganized for Jules' meticulous tastes. Books were arranged in no particular order on the shelves, papers and notes littered the desktop, tabletop, and the few chairs in the room. A few framed photographs were set up on the windowsill, while a slowly dying ivy plant dangled from the ceiling near the glass. Einstein looked up from his doggie bed near the heating vents as Verne turned on the overhead light and the boys began to search for a book that might give them the answer to their question.

Verne emitted a cry of success a few minutes later. "Ha! Found it! I knew I saw it in here last week!" He held up the hardbound book. Jules set down the notes he had picked up off the recliner -- filled with sketches and mathematical formulas that Jules understood vaugely, at best -- and joined his brother on the other side of the room, behind their father's large desk.

"Alphabetized index," Jules muttered as his brother flipped through the pages. Conan the Barbarian was located a moment later. Each film in the book included a brief review, a few rare facts about the film, and the date it came on video and in theaters.

Conan the Barbarian, according to the text on the page, premiered in theaters on May 14, 1982.

"May 14, 1982," Verne said aloud. "Hey, that's around now."

"Around now five years ago," Jules corrected. He thought for a moment. "That was a Friday, I think. Most films come out in theaters on Fridays, unless it's a holiday or something."

"Cool," Verne said, locating a notepad under their father's paper-strewn desktop, next to the computer keyboard. He found a pen and carefully copied the date down, then tore the paper off the pad and pocketed it. "Now what?" he asked.

"Now we have to figure out a way to get into the lab without setting anything off," Jules said. He felt rather uncomfortable discussing the matter in their father's study. "Let's go back to our room and figure that aspect out."

Leaving the book behind and turning the lights out, the boys returned to their bedroom. Einstein, however, followed them. Jules cast a scrutininzing gaze on the dog before closing the door. He highly doubted the dog could let his parents know about the conversation to come; yet Einstein always had been extraordinarily smart for a dog....

"What if we turned off the electricity in the lab?" Verne asked, tugging Jules' mind back to the task at hand.

Jules blinked, surprised that his brother had come up with such an idea. "I was thinking about that earlier," he admitted. "It seems to me to be the only way."

"Or else we could get in through the train's entrance," Verne said.

Jules pondered that for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Wouldn't work. The only way to get the doors open is from in the celler where the train is. Even if the doors were unlocked, I don't think there's any way we could get them open by ourselves. They're heavy!"

He walked over to the window on his brother's side of the room, which -- if one stood just so and cocked their head to the left -- allowed a corner of the barn/lab to be seen. "I think our best bet is to shut down the circuit breakers," he said, then sighed. "Unfortunately, I think the box is out there."

Verne echoed the sigh. "So how do we do this?" he asked. "You're the smart one -- don't you know?"

Jules checked his watch. It was just before nine. Their parents weren't supposed to be back until after eleven, maybe even later depending on how long the lecture at the University would take. "Give me a few minutes," he muttered, not liking the sensation of being under pressure.

And, ten minutes later, he had it.


Chapter Two

Friday, May 15, 1987
9:46P.M.

Verne felt almost like James Bond as both he and his brother crawled out their bedroom window and made their way carefully across the mildly sloping roof, to a tree that was convienently placed an arm's length from the gutter. Sneaking out this way had been Jules' idea -- "If we go out the back door, Martin is going to ask questions" -- but Verne didn't mind much. There was something about this operation he and his brother were venturing upon that made him feel just like an action hero in the movies he liked.

"This is so cool," he whispered as Jules tested the support of the aged oak tree before leaving the relative safety of the roof. The older boy shot the younger a firm look.

"Don't speak, Verne," he hissed. "It's too dangerous right now! Windows might be open downstairs."

A valid concern, Verne had to admit. It had been a really warm day. Before they had left, however, Verne had gone downstairs to check on what Marty was doing, and had noticed the teen was still studying, headphones clipped on his ears. Even from the doorway, Verne could hear the distinct, tinny sounds of music that leaked out of the headphone speakers. Marty didn't even notice he was being watched, his attention focused on whatever he was reading as he tapped a pencil against the book in time to the music.

Verne highly doubted, therefore, that Marty would be able to hear any noise they made, but decided it was better safe than sorry and kept his comments to himself as Jules hoisted himself into the tree and started the downward climb. Verne followed only when his brother was on the ground safely and had given the signal that all was clear. Jules waited for his brother to join him on the ground before heading cautiously for the large barn several hundred yards away.

"Stay away from the windows," Jules whispered as they walked as quietly as they could through their yard. Verne nodded, unable to resist a glance at the house as they walked away from it. Most of the windows on the first floor were illuminated, with the shades and curtains still open. The kitchen and dining room were at the back of the house, though the barn could be seen from the side windows of the living room, on the south side of the house. It was always possible Marty could've gone in the kitchen for a snack and was looking out the window over the sink, though Verne saw no one through any of the windows at the moment.

The barn was reached a minute later, and Jules headed for the north side of the structure -- which happened to be the side most visible from the back of the house. It couldn't be helped, however, for this was the part of the building that had exactly what Verne's brother needed to gain undetected entrance into the lab.

Jules set his backpack down on the grass and knelt next to the metal electrical outlet that Doc Brown had installed, on the chance that he would need to use electricity outside the building. In Verne's opinion, it was a kind of stupid idea; he'd never seen his dad need the outlet before, but their father had put a lot of strange things in the house and barn when the remolding had taken place during the fall of 1985. Some, like the railroad tracks in the cellar, had been explained early on. Others, like this plug outlet, still had no clear reason for being around.

Jules flicked open the metal coverings that protected the outlet from the elements and opened his backpack up, where he had brought a few small items from their house. Verne watched as he pulled out some odd-looking contraptions that looked vaguely familiar to him.

"What's that stuff?" he asked, whispering the queary.

"Some of Father's inventions that didn't quite work," Jules answered. "He gives me the rejects when I ask, and I like to collect the items to see if I can use some of the parts on my own creations."

"Okay..." Verne said. "So what are they doing out here?"

Jules smiled rather mischieviously, the expression instantly transforming his normally serious face. Verne blinked at the sight, stunned to see how much the look made him seem more his age. He looked, Verne realized with a touch of amazement, normal -- like a normal eleven-year-old who liked arcades, biking, and the occasional prank instead of one who favored computers, science, and strange experiments.

"These two inventions have one thing in common, one fault which caused our father to discard them," Jules explained softly. "They both overloaded the power supply and triggered the circuit breakers. Therefore, by plugging both into the outlet at the same time and turning them on to full power, we should successfully overload the power supply that is granted for this portion of the buildingif not the entire structure."

Verne seemed to recall a flaw with Jules' idea now, one he had neglected to bring up when his sibling had outlined the idea for him in their room. "Won't that get into the house, too?" he asked. "Remember last summer when Dad did that with that one thing? The holo-something projector?"

"Holographic projector," Jules corrected. "And yes, I remember. But I think this won't have the same effect. The reason that everything blew last summer was because it created a tremendous drain on the entire power supply for our household. The entire fuse box shorted out -- remember? This should just click the breakers for the lab over. I think."

"What if it doesn't?" Verne asked.

Jules frowned, looking a little irritated. "Don't be so pessimistic, Verne."

"I'm not being pessimistic, I just want to make sure this doesn't blow up in our face -- and I mean that, too," Verne added, a new angle suddenly appearing to him. "You know Dad's failed inventions."

"I know," Jules said. "But if I remember right, these didn't blow up...exactly." He edged away a few inches, a move that didn't comfort Verne. He followed his brother's example, prudently putting more distance from the electronic gizmos than his elder sibling.

"What did these used to be, anyway?" Verne couldn't help asking as Jules connected both of the plugs to the sockets.

"I'm not sure, but I think they were preliminary creations and drafts of the holographic projection system that Father eventually perfected and built into the time machines," Jules said. "I know one of the early problems had to do with the power supply." He paused, a look of sudden unease sliding across his face. "Maybe you should stand further away, Verne."

Verne didn't hesitate at all in backing away from the defective inventions. Jules stood, backed up a few steps himself, then leaned over to turn the gadgets on. Even in the dim light, Verne could see his brother's face, scrunched up as if he was ancipating something to really blow up. Verne didn't feel very confident with Jules' assurance that neither invention would self-destruct.

Jules switched the devices on and scrambled backwards in a hurry, nearly slamming right into Verne who was standing quite a respectable distance away. Verne watched the outlet and the gadgets, his hand hovering near his face and ready to cover it if something went wrong. He held his breath.

Nothing happened.

Verne turned to his brother next to him. "I thought you said this would blow out the power," he said.

Jules frowned. "It should....unless there's a short between the switch and power supply." He shrugged, then took a step forward. "It's possible"

A high-pitched whining noise started then, right from the inventions. Jules halted in his tracks. The noise built steadily in pitch and volume until Verne had both his hands clasped tightly over his ears in an effort to shut it out. It muffled it, only slightly, and made him worry that even Marty would be able to hear it through his headphones and music.

A brilliant flash of light spat out from the electrical outlets, followed by an impressive shower of sparks. The inventions started to smoke. Jules took a step forward, decided it was a bad idea, then skipped back. Flames suddenly sparked out of both inventions. Verne gasped, his hands falling down to his sides.

"Jules!" he cried. His brother hesitated, then started to run to the fire. Verne followed, knowing the danger if the flames spread and started to burn the lab as well. Jules picked up his backpack, now empty, and started to beat the flames with it.

"Verne, unplug them!" Jules yelled.

"What if I get electrocuted?" Verne shot back immediately, not entirely trusting his brother on the matter.

"You shouldn't -- the plug cords are insulated. Just do it!"

Verne took a deep breath, reached down, and yanked both the cords hard out of the wall. He let them drop to the ground as if they were poisonous snakes, backing quickly away as Jules continued to beat the flaming inventions.

After a couple minutes, the fires were snuffed out. Jules let his backpack drop to the ground, coughing faintly from the dust and smoke stirred up as he knelt down to examine the blackened electronics.

"Well," he said after a moment of silence. "It could have been worse."

Verne rolled his eyes, having his own opinion of the matter. "I guess," he said. "Are those things all the way busted now?"

Jules nodded, standing up. "Yes, they're quite dead."

Verne ran around to the window set in the wall of the barn-lab, jumping up and down a few times to see inside the building. He couldn't see any lights on inside, though a glance at the house told him that structure was still lit. "Did it work?" he asked, still uncertain.

Jules joined him at the window and stood on his toes, able to raise his eyes just above the bottom of the window. "I believe so," he reported, pleased. "I can't see any of the security lights running that Father usually has remain on all the time."

Verne glanced over at the house again, nervous. "Do you think Marty heard that noise?"

Jules frowned. "It's possible. We should get inside now, or at least out of view of the farmhouse. If Martin looks outside and doesn't see anything unusual, I don't think he will investigate further."

The suggestion sounded smart to Verne, but he continued to be concerned with something else. "What if he checks up on us?" he asked as Jules grabbed both blackened inventions by their cords and dragged them back to the treeline.

"Even if he does, we should be back fairly soon," Jules said as he tossed the devices into the trees and brush, branches snapping in the wake. "Don't worry."

Verne went over that for a moment in his head, then shrugged and followed his brother as he headed to the lab. Marty'd had his music up pretty loud; maybe he wouldn't have even heard the noise, or else would think it was part of whatever he was listening to. Anyway, they would be back in the house in no more than fifteen minutes, tops.

Despite the power's being out, there was no change in the condition of the security of the lab; all the doors and the windows were still locked. Jules paused when they had checked all of them, looking rather perturbed as he eyed the side of the building. Verne, deciding not to ask questions on what would come next, circled the barn a few times to recheck the secured windows and doors and work his mind on a solution to gain entrence. Presently, he saw something that sparked an idea, if nothing else.

Verne trotted over to where his brother was standing, still scowling in concentration. "Jules," he said, a shade too loudly. His sibling send him a stern look. Verne lowered his voice to continue. "I think I know how we can break in. Can we get a rope or somethin'?"

Jules blinked, his frown slow to fade. "Why?"

"Because." Verne decided it would be too much trouble to explain without some models. He grabbed his brother's arm and dragged him to the front of the barn. "See that?" he asked, pointing up at the slightly ajar [what the hell is that door called?] that led to the hayloft. Without waiting for Jules to acknowledge that he did indeed see it, Verne went on. "All we gotta do is get a rope, loop it around that beam" -- his finger moved to the slab of wood jutting out from the large support beam of the roof" -- and then we can climb inside."

Jules frowned still. "I can't climb ropes," he said, a touch of challenge in those words.

"So?" Verne asked, still not seeing a problem. "I can, an' I'll just let you in the normal way."

Jules eyed the beam, where an old, rusted pully still dangled from the end. "It will be highly difficult to get a rope airborn to that altitude and secure enough to support your weight," he said.

"I can do it," Verne insisted, then decided to generously rephrase that statement. "We can do it," he said. "Where can we get some rope that long?"

The rope, as it turned out, was easily located in their mother's gardening shed, behind the carport that was recently built by their father as a temporarily solution to a more long-term problem that promised to be solved over the summer months -- building an actual garage. The carport wasn't much -- a tarp roof suspended by a beam and several posts dug into the ground -- but it did protect their family station wagon from some of the elements. In the meantime, the small gardening shed stored some of the more garage-esque elements, like a lawnmower, gardening tools, hoses, and a fifty foot coil of rope that would more than suit their purposes.

Jules paused long enough before leaving to collect a small handheld gardening rake with a wooden handle. He stopped Verne as he was about to head out of the building with the rope coil draped over one shoulder. "I've got an idea," he said. When Verne waited for him to continue, Jules took one end of the rope, dangling several inches off the ground, and started to wrap it around the metal at the base of the tool, between the bottom of the handle and the prongs.

"What're you doing?" Verne asked.

"We need something weighted on this end," Jules explained, knotting the rope in some complicated way that Verne bet he picked up in one of his books or encyclopedias. "It will allow the rope to have more height and also allow us to lower this end to the ground in an easier manner so we may create a secure slip knot."

Verne grasped the idea that Jules was leading up to, though seeing the claw-like tool now tied at one end of the rope gave him a different idea. "We could use it as a grappling hook, too," he said.

Jules looked at him witheringly. "It's not meant for that purpose, Verne," he said. "Stop believing everything you see on television or in the movies."

The mention of films reminded Verne of their mission and of the time slowly ticking away. A glance at his watch caused him to take in a sharp breath. "Cripes, it's after ten! We gotta hurry!"

The boys returned to the lab and after a few unsuccessful tries with the rope, Jules took over and got it over the beam on his second try. As Verne scowled at the injustice of this, Jules lowered the weighted end of the rope to the ground, had Verne hold onto his end, then let go to run to the weighted end. In minutes, he had rigged a loop that looked to Verne like a lasso. Jules ran the other end of the rope through it, then pulled the loop to the top, where it pressed firmly against the beam. After tugging the rope hard a few times, Jules seemed satisfied and allowed Verne to climb it.

The climb took him only a minute; he was one of the fastest rope climbers in his class at school and the only difference between the gym and here was the fact it was outdoors, at night, and there were no mats to protect you if you slipped. But Verne had never slipped.

When he reached the two foot by two foot opening to the hayloft, Verne found things to be a little more difficult than he had first anticipated. He quickly saw why his father had never closed the shutterit was rusted open six inches and moved only if Verne pulled hard. A difficult task, at best, while dangling some 25 feet off the ground.

"Is something wrong?" Jules called in a whisper from the ground.

"It's rusted," Verne grunted, his arms beginning to ache a little from supporting his weight so long. "Give me a few minutes."

"I've got an idea," Jules said. "Hold on, I'll be right back." He took off running across the lawn, towards the gardening shed. Verne adjusted his grip and eyed the dark space into the hayloft, wondering if it would be possible in any way to wedge his foot in there and pull the door open that way.

Before he could try such a dangerous manuever, however, Jules ran back, holding a spray can in his hand. "I got some WD-40!" he called up. "It should loosen the hinges."

With no other way around it, Verne climbed down, rested his arms for a minute, then managed to wedge the spray can in one of the pockets of his baggy shorts. He returned to where he had been before, gooked the spray all over the visable hinges, then dropped the can to the ground and tried pulling the door again. It protested for a moment, then started to give, emitting a terrible, tortured metallic groan as it did so.

Verne managed to wrestle the door open enough to swing inside. He wrinkled his nose at the stuffy, dusty odor of the hayloft and started walking towards where he thought the way down was, pitch blackness surrounding him. When they had just moved into the home and barn, his father had showed the family around and allowed Jules and Verne a brief look at the hayloft before declairing it off limits.

"When I have the time and money I'll get it cleaned up," he had said at the time. "It's too small to store the DeLorean, and definately for the train, so perhaps I'll turn it into a study of sorts."

That day had yet to come, and the loft was currently the unofficial attic for the Brown family, filled with a strange, eclectic accumulation of family heirlooms, bits and pieces of inventions, and some souvenieres picked up from time travel expeditions that would be dangerous outside the lab. Verne grimaced as he walked into something hard, his left knee taking the brunt of the impact. He dropped to the floor and felt his way along the dusty boards, finally locating by touch and the faint memory of his one time up here a trap door, which lead to a ladder built up against the wall, which lead him to the main floor.

Verne let Jules in close to five minutes after entering the buildingdusty, a little bruised, but pleased with his accomplishment. "The power's totally out," he said by way of greeting.

Jules glanced around the room for a second, seemed to confirm Verne's statement, then smiled. "Good," he said, sounding pleased as he shut the door at his back. "Now we need to locate some flashlights and the keys to the DeLorean."

Verne frowned as he looked around the darkened room, Jules already opening some of the cabinates under the tables in search of the flashlights. "I don't see the DeLorean, Jules," he said after a moment. "Did Mom and Dad take it with them?"

"No -- I saw them drive off in the station wagon. And they would never take the time machine out in public like that." Jules located a flashlight and passed it to Verne. "I believe that Father must have the holographic projection system running, likely as an added security measure. If one cannot see something, then they certainly can't steal it."

"Then how are we gonna get into it?" he asked, having only seen their father demonstrate his latest time machine modification once, so far, and only briefly.

"I asked the same question of Father," Jules replied as he located another flashlight and closed the cabinate. "He told me he had modified a car alarm remote control from the future to turn the device on and off from a distance. It's on the car keys."

"And where're those?"

"I'm not certain. We'll just have to look around."

It took ten minutes of crawling under tables, feeling around on shelves, and rummaging through drawers and stacks of papers before Jules located the keys -- hanging, in quite plain sight, on a hook on the wall with some other tools and the like. Verne was confused at the move since, last he knew, their father was actually taping the keys under some of the furniture, but Jules wasn't particularly shocked.

"It makes sense," he said once the keys were in hand. "With the HIS system now, the DeLorean doesn't appeare thereand so why would the keys need to be hidden."

"I guess," Verne concurred as Jules found the appropriate button on the small thumb-sized remote with the keys, causing the DeLorean to suddenly appear in the room. "And I think he thinks that this place is pretty secure now."

"Which is good," Jules said. "If Father is comfortable with that, then he shouldn't know of our trip -- and perhaps we can do this again sometime."

Verne thought about that for a moment, reviewing the last half hour in his head, and groaned faintly. "Man, this movie better be worth it," he said. "I don't know if I wanna go through all this every time we need to time travel."

The boys opened the double doors by hand, unable to use the remote control due to the power being out. They got in the car without trouble, Jules scoring the driver's seat while Verne was distracted loading Mr. Fusion. While Verne sulked over this, Jules managed to crack the numeric code to access the time circuits and use the engine.

Leaning as far forward as he could, in an effort to both reach the peddles and see over the wheel and dash, Jules proceeded to stall the car repeatedly as he tried to get it out of the garage. Just when Verne, noticing that the present time was ticking increasingly fast towards the hour of eleven, was about to give up on the whole idea, Jules managed to get the car moving more than a couple feet. Despite his frightening and inexperianced driving style -- they nearly ran right over their mother's garden as they passed it -- Jules managed to locate the right switch to activate the car's hover circuits on....and several minutes later they were heading towards the past.



I found this odd little snippet tacked onto the IF cut page.... I'm not sure if this was something I wrote ahead of time and forgot about (which happens) or decided to cut from the version of IF on the 'net, but.... Shrug. Here it is.

...After turning the lamps off and turning on the lights decorating the Christmas tree in the corner (which allowed him enough light to see his way around the room but not enough to irritate him, like the lamps would), Marty took a quilt that had been draped over the back of the couch, kicked off his shoes, and allowed himself to lie down for the first time all day.

It took less than a minute before he was sound asleep....


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