Chapter 3

Saturday, July 4th, 2035

5:00 PM

Marty, Doc, and the hoverboard careened over the edge of the floor. Marty shifted his weight to the left and the hoverboard bounced a couple time off of the modern art sculpture dangling precariously from the mall's ceiling by only one cable. The momentum was enough and they made it to the bottom floor of the mall without a hitch.

Without a hitch meaning that they didn't break any bones or die suddenly. Other than that, it was kinda rough.

Doc and Marty fell from the hoverboard and struck the nice, hard floor. The hoverboard shot from under them and toppled over the nearest police bot. Great, now the odds were two against fifteen. If Marty didn't know better, he'd say the police bots were multiplying right on the spot.

"You are under arrest." said the nearest robot as he threatened Doc with his taser. This time, they had no escape route. Before either Marty or Doc could react, a police bot yanked the inventor from the floor and clamped the handcuffs around his wrists. To Marty's surprise, though, only Doc received this special treatment.

"Where are you taking him?" Marty demanded as the police bots ignored him. "Listen to me, where are you taking him?"

"To Hill Valley State Prison." the robots said in unison. They were unemotional as they read Doc his rights and proceeded to take him away. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or think may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. In the event you cannot afford one, one will be programmed for you."

"Listen to me, Marty!" Doc shouted, "Do whatever you can to stop that Tannen from using the time machine! It's all up to you..." No Doc had been taken through some doors and led off into one of those flying prisoner transports Marty had seen earlier.

Now what? Without the Doc, how was he able to stop Tannen? He'd have to do some sleuthing and do it fast. The unveiling at the court house was tonight!

Whatever choices he had were slimming real fast. He rushed past the crowd of gawkers and into the parking garage. Maybe if he went back in time a little ways, he could stop Doc from getting caught. Then again, maybe not…

As Marty neared the familiar time machine, he spotted what looked like a futuristic tow truck arrive as more police robots rigged the car and had it towed away.

"Wait!" Marty said, "That's my car! You can't take that!"

"This vehicle is registered to the imposter of Emmett L. Brown." The robot cop said without looking up from some sort of data pad, "If you would like to pay for custody of this vehicle, the fine is 1,906,345.33 dollars."

"What?" Marty exclaimed, "The meter's good for another hour!"

"This vehicle does not comply with Hill Valley safety protocols. It has no autopilot, no escape pod, and its license is twenty years over the expiration date."

"Twenty years?"

"Our scans have indicated the vehicle in question is not road or air worthy in concordance with section 367-B of the Hill Valley Law Enforcement Code of Vehicle safety. If you do not have the available funds to requisition it, it will be scheduled for demolition at midnight on July 4th, 2035."

"But that's tonight! How am I going to get that kind of money by then?"

"I'm afraid there are no alternatives, citizen. If the fine cannot be paid, the vehicle will be destroyed."

"But…" But there were no buts. The robot was not changing its mind and Marty felt like his future was slipping away as the Delorean was carried further and further away like a prisoner on the way to its execution. Come to think of it, it was.

"No, this cannot be happening," Marty sighed, "This is way too heavy." He was stuck. He had to at least get back to the Clock Tower. Picking the hoverboard up, he started what would be a long trip.

- - - - -

While Doc Brown enjoyed an airplane ride as much as the next guy, this particular flight was not one of his favorites. He was handcuffed, injected with a mild sedative, and cramped into a small compartment on the back of some futuristic prisoner transport.

"What on earth was I thinking?" Doc was now regretting everything he'd ever done wrong in his life; especially the part about building the time machine in the first place.

"This is my fault, again! I'm a scientist; I should've thought carefully about this from the scientific angle. Oh, heavens what've I done?" Just then, a small photograph fell from his pants pocket. As the picture fluttered to the floor, Doc stared long and hard at it.

It was a picture of Clara in her favorite dress and standing next to the train with Jules and Verne. It was shortly after he had finished building the flux capacitor for the newest time machine. He remembered how he'd almost given up time after time, frustrated with the rudimentary tools and materials he was forced to use. If it wasn't for Clara's wonderful resourcefulness and encouragement, he'd have never finished it.

As Doc closed his eyes, he tried to imagine those days. He was normal human being when Clara was around. He had a family and someone to love; someone who encouraged his youthful manner and crackpot inventions.

That was when Doc decided that no matter what, he would be getting home. Back to Clara. Back to the boys. And more importantly, Back to the future. The right future.

- - - - -

In some sort of futuristic garage, a man in a scientist's lab coat was bent over some computer equipment making some sort of last-minute finishing touches. In the center of the garage, which was dimly lit, some sort of futuristic safe had been placed. A high-tech computerized locking mechanism prohibited anyone without the right knowledge to know of its secrets.

A few other men in futuristic business suits were scattered around, looking suspicious like they belonged in a 1930's gang movie.

"So, boss, like, are you really sure this'll work?" said one of the suits, "I mean, it looks, like, it might be kinda, kinda…"

"Complicated?" Finished another.

"Yeah, complicated." Said the first, giving his partner a nod for the help.

"Of course it's complicated, you buttheads!" the man in the lab coat said, "You think my old man would leave me with a piece of junk?"

"Well, uh, I didn't mean that. I mean, how do you know it works?"

"Trust me, I know. It's so crazy it has to."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Just shut up."

The suit decided to leave it at that and let the guy with the brains work his magic.

"Hey boss," Another suit said, "Um, could you run over the plan again? You know, just make sure everyone's on the same holopage?"

The man finally stopped his work and turned to face his employees. "Alright, but just once. I don't like explaining my actions all the time. Makes me feel like I work with a bunch of idiots."

"Okay."

"About twenty years ago, my father Biff Tannen invented a machine. It was a machine that was able to travel in another dimension; time. He brought me the prototype many years ago."

"Is that it?" said one of the suits, motioning for the safe.

"No, he said he was being pursued by a crazy kid and a wild-eyed scientist claiming he invented the time machine. He was on the run and didn't have time to allow me to fully study it. My old man never gave me the time of day, so I ask him what the catch is and he says there's no catch. To prove it, he told me the winners of the World Series for the next five years. And you know what, he was right every time."

"Where'd he go in such a hurry?"

"I don't know. He said he was going back to 1955 to reconcile something in his past, whatever that means. Anyways, he told me learn how to build my own, and once it was finished, to take it back in time and give it to a distant relative of mine."

"So you didn't actually invent time travel then?"

"Not really. I took some license privileges."

"So you cheated?"

Bart Tannen stepped forward towards the suit and stared him down. "But you're not going to tell anyone, right? If I unveiled the time machine tonight and you told everyone I didn't invent it, I would be disgraced by the entire scientific community. You wouldn't want that to happen to me, would you?"

"Uh, um, n-n-no, boss. Of course not."

"Hey, boss," another suit asked, "What's it look like?"

Bart straightened and faced the suit, "What?"

"What's it look like? You know, the time machine."

The Tannen just smiled an evil toothy grin. "I'll show you." He walked over the huge safe and a retinal scanner scanned his eyes. With a loud hiss, the seal on the safe slowly came undone. Low clouds of fog billowed out as the hatch raised.

There stood a low slung, black sports car. It was angular and looked like it belonged in a museum instead of a science convention. Numerous baubles and bolt-ons which served some undeterminable purpose were strapped to the body. In the rear was a nuclear reactor and inside the cockpit, a glowing flux capacitor computed silently. In the car's grill were the letters "DMC". Obviously they stood for something, but that didn't matter. Before the men stood a very twisted version of Doc Brown's dream; the time machine.