Chapter 1— Changing the past

Claire slowly walked away. She could hear the footsteps of Luke as he ran after her, and she glanced being her shoulder ever so slightly to see he had stopped. Faintly, she heard him shout to the professor, "She's gone!" Then, silence. Nothing but her, the darkness, and the ringing of the professor's last words in her head: I don't want to have to say goodbye again, I can't, I WON'T!"

Clutching her hand against her heart, she whispered, "I didn't want to say goodbye either, Hershel. But I must, I must…" As she walked, she could feel tears forming. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop them. Snow had started to fall, and Claire shivered, not only from the cold, but just the sheer sight of it at a time like this. Snow, to her, symbolized happiness, a time of cheer. Snow symbolized being together with family, being together with the ones you loved…

She shook her head, the tears finally streaming down her face. She walked to a wall, and sat down, letting the cold of the snow-sprinkled ground consume her. Any second now, she would be sent back to her original time, merely seconds before the catastrophic failure of the time machine experiment, the one that had caused the massive explosion that supposedly claimed her life, and the lives of so may other innocent people around the building.

Why did it have to come to this? She thought, her vision beginning to swim before her eyes, her head becoming very light. There's been so much pain, so much suffering. Clive's family…he lost them in that tragedy…Hershel became obsessed with finding out what had happened. This explosion destroyed, manipulated, so many lives. At that moment, she felt extremely dizzy. Her surrounding became fuzzy, and then, everything went black. Please, she thought desperately, knowing what was happening, trying to resist the feeling of being pulled in by a giant vacuum. Please! Give me one more chance! Let me change everything, let me have another try! Suddenly, the vacuum feeling overwhelmed her, and she lost all feeling, as if it was just her thoughts, floating in mid-air. Then she saw a pinhole of light. It became larger, then suddenly…

"Claire! Come read this article." Hershel's voice wafted to her as Claire sat at her desk, dumbfounded by what had just happened. She looked around her, making sure everything was real, that this wasn't some insane illusion of her mind. Confirming everything around her was real, her heart skipped a beat. She knew where she was: not in the time machine awaiting the explosion, but in her own room, sitting at her own desk reading a note. She looked at the note and immediately recognized it. She had read it so many times she could practically recite it:

Claire,

You may be surprised that I'm sending you a letter, due to the fact we work in the same laboratory, but I didn't want anyone to eavesdrop on this important conversation. You see, Bill Hawks and I have made a, as we like to think, breakthrough invention. After months and moths of designing, arguing, constructing, deconstructing, wiring and finalizing, we have finally accomplished what we hope to be the first ever working time machine! I know it sounds extremely fantasy like, highly improbable really, but that's what we need to prove: that it actually works. We have already made plans with a major corporation that would like to see and possibly invest in the time machine. But what they request is that a demonstration be made, and that's what I would like to talk to you about. Please meet me in my office around 12: 00 p.m. on the 23rd.

Yours Truly,

Dimitri Allen

Looking up at the calendar that hung on her wall, Claire gasped. Today was the 23rd! She then shifted her gaze to the clock that hung next to the calendar that read: 11: 40 a.m. I have another chance she thought happily. I have another chance!

"Claire! I must show you this, come quickly!" Claire smiled, relishing the feeling of hearing Hershel's voice, eager, curious, but full of love with a hint of a gentlemanly air.

She walked down the hall to find him sitting in an armchair, holding a newspaper. "Hershel, what is it, what did you want to show me?"

He looked up at her, eyes glinting. "See this article? Two psychiatric patients were caught playing Russian roulette. One of them was about to pull the trigger when the doctor stopped them. If he had pulled the trigger, the man would have been killed. It's just made me think of a puzzle slightly similar to the situation described in this article…would you care to hear it?"

Claire smiled, nearly laughing at the eagerness his face so clearly expressed. Hershel always had a puzzle for everything. Sitting on the arm of the chair she said, "Oh, I suppose. What is this puzzle of yours?"

"Ha-ha, excellent. Here it goes: there are two men playing a game of Russian roulette. The first man puts a single bullet in the gun, and spins the barrel. He pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. Before he gives the gun to his opponent, he asks if he would like the barrel spun again. If the other man wishes to live, should he have the barrel spun or not?"

Claire nodded. My, this is a puzzle of extreme thinking. She summed up all the possibilities. If the barrel was spun, there would be six chambers, and one of them would contain a bullet, making it unsafe. The probabilities of survival were 5/6. If the barrel was not spun, since the trigger was pulled once, there would be 5 chambers left, and only four of them would be safe. The possibilities of surviving would be 4/5. She looked at Hershel, and explained this reasoning. Then, she delivered her answer: "You see, out of the two possibilities, option one has the best chance of survival. If the man wishes to live, he should have the barrel spun."

"Excellent job, my dear. That is exactly right!" Hershel stood up and gave Claire a kiss. She smiled, so happy that she hadn't been sent back to the explosion. Then, she saw the time.

"Oh! It's 11:50! I have to meet someone in ten minutes to discuss some business, but we'll talk more at dinner, all right?" Hershel nodded as Claire grabbed her coat and dashed out the door. This is it, she thought, heart racing, time to change the past.