In Another Time and Place

Based on the comics of Carl Barks and Don Rosa, but DuckTales fans should still enjoy it.

Fic written by Katie Sullivan

"Gyro!"
The lanky inventor jumped in surprise as the door to his workshop burst open and the world's richest duck barged in. In his startled state, he dropped a vial, and it exploded in a bright foof of pink smoke. He coughed and turned on a fan to clear the air.
Scrooge McDuck looked guiltily down as Little Helper scurried to sweep up the broken glass. "What was that?" he asked.
"It was going to be either the cure for cancer or a stylish new lip gloss. I'm not sure which," Gyro said with a shrug. "How can I help you, Mr. McDuck?"
"Gyro, time is money, so I'll get right to the point. Is there such a thing as an alternate universe? A parallel existence?"
"You mean like a world created when you make decision? One universe for each possible outcome? Like one where you had juice at breakfast and one where you had milk instead?"
"Er, yes, Gyro. I want to see if it's possible to find lost treasures in parallel universes. Some of the greatest fortunes of antiquity have been lost to fire, time, rats, thieves, floods, and all sorts of mishaps. I want to find out if they still exist in an alternate reality!" Scrooge stepped out of the way as Little Helper ran by with a dustpan full of broken glass. "So is it possible? Can you rewire the T.A.D.P.O.L.E. or something?"
"Well, I suppose so. I was thinking of turning it into a terrarium, but I can take out my ferns." Gyro looked out the window at the squat little rocket in the shed behind his workshop.
"Wonderful!" Scrooge said. "When can you have it ready?"
Gyro closed one eye thoughtfully and mumbled to himself for some time. "Seven."
"Seven months?"
"No."
"Seven weeks?"
"No."
"Seven days?"
"No. Seven o'clock tonight. That's assuming the Virginia Creeper hasn't gotten into the wiring."
"Excellent. I'll be by this evening, then." Scrooge started out the door, nearly stepping on Little Helper.
"I'll get right on it, Mr. McDuck. For my usual fee of $50 plus materials, of course."
Scrooge winced. "Yes, Gyro," he said in a pained voice.

As evening shadows darkened the streets of Duckburg, Scrooge McDuck returned to Gyro Gearloose's workshop. Busy sounds of banging and drilling came from behind the building, and he found the eccentric bird inside the T.A.D.P.O.L.E. with his head under a console.
"Are you done, Gyro?"
"Almost, Mr. McDuck. The radio is on the fritz."
"I really don't care. All I want to do is get to a parallel universe and snoop around for treasure, not listen to the traffic report."
"Yes, Mr. McDuck. No problem." Gyro slid out from underneath the panel, frowned at a loose gear in his hand, shrugged, and threw the spare part over his shoulder. "She's ready to go."
Scrooge eyed the complicated machinery skeptically. "Are you sure this thing is safe?"
"Oh, yes, Mr. McDuck. I didn't quite have time to take out all the time machine gear, so there might be a slight temporal shift, but you'll get back here just fine."
"Temporal shift? You mean I'll be moving through time AND universes?" Scrooge said, raising his eyebrows.
"Yes, sir."
"Well, no matter. All the better to hunt treasure!" he said with a greedy gleam in his eyes.
"Good luck!" Gyro said cheerfully. "When you're ready to come home, just hit that green switch next to the radio."
"Thank you, Gyro."
The inventor closed the hatch with a clank, leaving Scrooge alone in the cramped cockpit. He experimented with a number of different dials and switches before hitting The Big Red Button. There was a violent shaking, spinning, vibrating sensation, and globs of light raced by outside the window. Moments later, there was a sudden jolt and the ship stopped.
Shaken but excited, Scrooge peered out the window. Farmland and trees stretched as far as he could see. Yet the landscape was oddly familiar. This was Duckburg, but when? He checked the red LED readout on the console. 1911. So he had been bumped back in time a bit. But still, Duckburg should be a medium-sized city by this point. Where were all the buildings?
Scrooge warily undid the hatch and stepped out into the sunlight. The pleasant, dusty smell of warm fields greeted him. He looked around, searching for a landmark. As he gazed down toward the Tulebug River, he saw several rows of buildings. There was a town here, certainly, but not the thriving community it should have been. Strange. Grandma Duck's farm was visible in the distance. Now that he had his bearings, he turned toward Killmotor Hill.
"Wak!" Scrooge exclaimed. Where was his money bin? Instead of the familiar square concrete building, a mansion sat atop the highest point in the countryside. What in the world...? Well, no, what in THIS world. A different matter altogether.
Scrooge grabbed his cane and trekked across the uneven farmland toward town. He found a sleepy pre-WWI farming community. There were a number of commercial buildings, some of which had the McDuck name emblazoned on the storefronts. But the rampant development that should have been was nowhere to be seen. People looked curiously at the stranger as he strolled down the street. Some looked familiar, but yet not. It was a surreal experience. A few rickety motorcars were parked along the streets, and an even more rickety old horse was tied outside Clinton Coot's general store.
Scrooge stood uncertainly, gazing around at his bizarre surroundings. Finally he decided to find the library, since that's where he could learn about any unusual treasures found in this particular plane of existence. The Cornelius Coot Public Library was also a shadow of its familiar self, but he managed to find a thorough encyclopedia. To his dismay, most of the rest of the world seemed the same as his native one. Most of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World were still gone, and if anything there seemed to be fewer major archaeological discoveries.
"May I help you, sir?" came a pleasant female voice. He looked up to find a younger version of his own secretary, Emily Quackfaster.
"Er, uh, no thank you. I'm fine."
"In town visiting relatives?" she asked with a smile.
Since the excuse was laid before him so conveniently, he just nodded.
"I thought so. You're the mirror image of Scrooge McDuck."
"Scrooge McDuck?" he said, his own name sounding odd in his ears.
"That is who you're visiting, right? Are you his brother? Uncle? You look just like him."
"Er, distant relative."
"Well, I'm sure the McDucks will be more than happy to see you," Miss Quackfaster said.
McDucks. Plural. Perhaps he and his sisters were still on speaking terms in this universe, then. What a pleasant thought!
Scrooge stood and put his top hat back on. "Actually, Miss, I have to be running along now." He replaced the encyclopedia volume on the shelf with a sigh of disappointment.
"All right. Nice meeting you. Say hi to Goldie and the kids for me."
Scrooge froze. "Who?"
"Goldie and the kids. When you see them. Tell them Emily said hello."
"Uh...uh...of course," he murmured. He blinked. What...? How...? When...? "Actually, Miss, I just arrived in town. Could you give me directions to their house?"
"Certainly," Miss Quackfaster said with a warm grin. "Right at the top of old Killmotor Hill. It's quite a hike up there, but you can't miss it!"
"Thank you," Scrooge said distantly. He slowly walked out of the library and down the street toward Killmotor Hill. "Goldie and the kids," he whispered to himself. Perhaps Miss Quackfaster had meant Della and Donald. Yes, that was it. Those were the kids she was referring to. And perhaps in this universe Matilda and Ludvig had children. But Goldie...? What in the name of stocks and bonds...?
Scrooge hurried as best he could up the hill toward the usual site of his money bin. As he neared the large house, he heard singing from within. "After the Ball." An involuntary shiver ran down to the tip of his tail. Only one duck could sing it like that. But, still...how?
He took his time climbing the stairs to the spacious porch. He wanted to stand there and listen forever, but he was in plain sight to everyone in town. Pushing back sentimentality with practiced firmness, he rapped on the door with his cane. That heavenly singing stopped, and Goldie's unmistakable voice rang out, "That'll be Elvira with those tomatoes she mentioned. Duncan, honey, could you open the door for her?"
"Yes, Mom."
Footsteps approached, and the door opened. It was hard to tell who was more surprised, Scrooge McDuck or the bewildered young boy in the foyer. He was eerily similar to Scrooge himself, but that rich golden hair could only have come from one person. That person swept gracefully out of a doorway. "Hi, Elvira. Come in for a cup of--" Her dazzling green eyes widened when she saw him. "--tea," she finished in a barely audible whisper. "Who are you?"
"I'm... I'm..." Scrooge stammered. "A relative of Scrooge's," he improvised quickly.
"Really? He didn't mention anything about a visitor." Goldie put a protective hand on the young boy's shoulder.
"It's a surprise," he said with complete honesty.
"Well, you've got the look of a McDuck all over you," she said with a tentative smile. "And any relative of Scrooge's is always welcome here." She extended a hand. "I'm Goldie, Scrooge's wife, and this is Duncan, one of our three children." The boy nodded as she shook hands with the stranger.
Scrooge's wife. Three children. This was completely bizarre!
Goldie turned toward the end of the hall. "Why don't you come into the kitchen? Scrooge is over in Goosetown right now, checking on some of his businesses. He should be back by dark."
"Thank you, ma'am," he said, still staring wide-eyed. This was unmistakably Goldie O'Gilt of Dawson, Yukon Territory. Yet she looked softer, somehow. Gone were the sequins and jewels, replaced by an expensive but respectable blue dress and pearl earrings. Her shiny yellow hair was allowed to hang naturally about her shoulders.
The angelic apparition led him into a large, well-furnished kitchen and served him a cup of tea. As she put the sugar bowl on the table, the wail of a discontent infant reached them. "Oh, dear, Opal is awake. Pardon me, Mr... Oh, dear, I didn't catch your name. I'm such a scatterbrain sometimes."
Scrooge was almost too busy studying her to notice her implied question, but he stirred himself back into what passed for reality just in time. "My name?" His mind raced for a suitable pseudonym. A snatch of Macbeth entered his head, and he said quickly, "Donalbain. Donalbain McDuck."
"Pleased to meet you." A renewed cry was heard. "Now if you'll excuse me..." Goldie slipped from the room and returned a few moments later with a fussing baby. The duckling had curly brown hair reminiscent of her Aunt Hortense. "Aunt" Hortense? Another foreign term. "Little Opal, here, always gets cranky when the weather's hot like this," Goldie explained.
Scrooge sat, transfixed by the sweet image of mother and child. His child. Well, not exactly, but-- All this time travel and parallel universe business was making his head hurt!
"You said you have three children?" he asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone.
Goldie rocked the infant slowly and nodded. "Our eldest, Aurora, is with her father in Goosetown. Quite a head for business on that one."
"I, uh...I hear Scrooge has done pretty well for himself."
She beamed proudly. "Between my ballroom and his mining, we came out of the Gold Rush with a pretty big nest egg. We're the richest family in Calisota."
Richest in...Calisota.
He managed a smile and took a sip of tea to disguise his befuddled expression. He had expected to find the Hanging Gardens of Babylon intact in this universe, perhaps, but THIS... It was unreal. And yet somehow plausible. If only...
There was another knock at the door.
"THAT must be Elvira with those tomatoes. Duncan, play doorman for me one more time."
"Yes, Mom," the boy said, dashing back to the foyer.
Scrooge tried not to stare at her, but he couldn't help it. "Scrooge must be happy."
"Oh, yes," she said, patting the baby's back. "Couldn't be happier."
A younger version of Grandma Duck entered with Duncan, toting two jars of pickled tomatoes. "Hello, Goldie. Oh, excuse me, I didn't know you had company."
Goldie stood. "One of Scrooge's relatives dropped in for a visit. Elvira, Donalbain. Donalbain, Elvira."
"Hi," said the older lady.
"Hi," Scrooge said awkwardly.
Goldie situated Opal securely on her hip and went to open the pantry door. "You can put those tomatoes right in here, Elvira. And thanks again!"
"No problem. There's always some to spare."
"Why don't you stick around for tea?" Goldie invited.
"Thanks, Goldie, but I have to get back to the farm. I promised to teach Hortense how to make chocolate chip cookies."
Goldie laughed briefly, a sound full of life that brought an involuntary smile to Scrooge's face. "Good luck," she said. "That sounds like quite a job."
"I'll keep the rolling pin away from her," Elvira said, joining her in a chuckle. "Good-bye. Nice meeting you, Donalbain."
"Er...same to you."
Elvira slipped out, leaving Scrooge alone with Goldie and her (his? their?) children.
"I'm glad I caught you at home," Scrooge said experimentally. "I understand you travel a lot."
"Oh, not really," Goldie said. "We used to take a trip around the world every summer to keep an eye on Scrooge's businesses, but we skipped it this year, with Opal so small. The last thing I need is three kids with some weird jungle fever!" Goldie laughed again. "The first trip after Aurora was born, she ended up with purple spots all over her body. We were a week from nowhere in the middle of Brazil! Oh, what a trip THAT was!" She refilled their tea cups and adjusted the baby's position slightly. "I swear sometimes half our fortune goes for vaccinations. But there still seems to be enough to swim around in."
"Swim in?" Scrooge said eagerly.
"Oh, my, yes. Have you heard about that? It's the weirdest thing." Goldie grinned and leaned forward to speak somewhat confidentially. "The basement of this place is filled with money, you know. Cash. Scrooge swims in it like a swimming pool. I've tried it, but I don't have quite the knack he does. The kids are better at it than I am. Still, it's fun. Strange, but fun." A soft, fond look came over her face, and she held the baby close. "Scrooge is quite an individual. Like no one I've ever known." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "And I love him very much." She quickly snapped out of her reverie and grinned. "Listen to me, all moony-eyed like a newlywed or something. You didn't come all the way from...wherever...to hear me babble. Where DID you come from, anyway? Scotland?"
The sudden and radical change of topic made Scrooge stiffen warily. "No, I, er, that is, I...I move around a lot. I don't really hail from any one place. I, uh...I just thought I'd drop by and say hello. But you know what? I should be running along. I have to be on a ship soon, and it's a long walk to the harbor. Sorry I missed Scrooge. Maybe next time. It, uh...it was a real pleasure meeting you." Only the last part was the truth, but Goldie didn't question him.
"Well, all right. I wouldn't want you to miss your ship. I'll tell Scrooge you were here." Goldie got up and walked him into the foyer. "Say bye-bye, Opal," she purred to the infant in her arms. Opal merely regarded him with limpid eyes, but her mother made her wave her tiny hand. "Bye-bye," Goldie cooed. Opal just gurgled. Goldie looked up apologetically and resumed her normal speaking voice. "She's not quite talking yet."
"That's quite all right," he said quietly.
"Say good-bye to Uncle Donalbain, Duncan."
"'Bye," the boy said shyly.
"It was nice meeting you," Goldie said.
"Yes," he said distantly, losing himself in her sparkling green eyes. Eyes the color of freshly-minted greenbacks on a summer morning... He indulged himself by taking her hand and kissing it formally. "Farewell, Mrs. McDuck."
With that, Scrooge turned and walked down Killmotor Hill. He glanced back over his shoulder once at the golden-haired figure and two small children standing in the doorway. The doorway of a mansion that stood where his money bin should have been. Or, at least, *usually* was. Was there a difference? Had he been wrong to abandon his hopes along with his sled on that glacier all those years ago? Was it impossible to be the world's richest person and have a family at the same time?
No. Donald, Huey, Dewey and Louie were his family now. Or would be, when he got to back to the right time and universe.
Aurora, Duncan and Opal. His children...!
No longer the last of the Clan McDuck...
But not globe trotting...
But merely the richest in Calisota, not the world...
But still close to his sisters...
But...
But...
But...
But...
But...
Scrooge was giving himself a gigantic headache. Better head back to the T.A.D.P.O.L.E. and see if Gyro could invent a quick pain reliever.

The odd-looking machine was right where he left it, and one jarring, dizzying journey later, he was stumbling out into Gyro's back yard. It was morning there.
The inventor looked up from the game of checkers he and Little Helper were playing. "Oh, hello, Mr. McDuck! Did you find the treasure you were looking for?"
Scrooge sighed and leaned on his cane. "Yes and no, Gyro." He silently left, making his way down the street in the direction of his money bin, high on Killmotor Hill.



...The End...