Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

really think the truth of time travel will mirror a sixty-year old work of fiction? That if we disrupt or damage something in the past it could result in earth-shattering paradoxes in the present? We don't even know if we can affect the past. We may be merely ghosts there."
    "It's one of the theories, but that's just it, Ben. We don't know for sure. This is virgin territory, and until we do know, until we thoroughly understand what we're playing at, we must proceed with extreme caution. We can't afford to act irresponsibly, like some kid doing a cannonball at a crowded town pool. We need to enter one toe at a time, making as few waves as possible."
    "I disagree. Now is the time for action. The longer we wait, the greater the risk someone else will discover the formula for time travel and beat us to it. You know we're not the only ones working on this. If someone stumbled across the same theories we did, they may not be as altruistic as you are. They'll jump on it, rush to publish and claim the credit, the Nobel, and the money, and we'll be sitting here with our thumbs up our asses wishing we'd had the balls to do it first."
    When Nate shook his head, Ben sighed and stood up. He walked over and knelt down, taking Nate's hands in his own. He looked down a moment, trying to draw on every ounce of persuasion he possessed. He had to change Nate's mind. He couldn't wouldn't— let it go on this way. Nate wanted to sell out, and he couldn't allow it. He wanted to run the human trials. He wanted himself and Nate to be the first to experience the wonder of time travel, not some overpaid corporate lab monkey. "Nate, this research is your life's work, your legacy to the world. It's our legacy. We've gone as far as lab work and computer simulations will take us. We've experimented successfully with the mice. It's time to take the next step."
    To Ben's chagrin, Nate pulled his hands away. "No, Ben. It's too dangerous. We can't risk it. We can't prove we've sent the mice back in time. We may have just sent them into an alternate dimension of some kind. No, I've decided. We're going to sign the contract with ProScience. They have the financial backing, the personnel, and the equipment necessary to conduct safe field tests. Their people can help take our work to the next level."
    "And take the credit for discovery at the same time! They'll get the fame and fortune, and we'll end up as nothing more than footnotes in history."
    "It's too dangerous, Ben! Now, I've made my decision, and that's final!"
    Ben scowled and stood up, grinding his molars in frustration. "Final? You've made the decision? I don't even get a say in this?"
    "Well, it was my research that led to the breakthrough--"
    "Without my work in special relativistic time dilation, you never would've connected the dots to arrive at your conclusion!" Ben's voice rose in volume, matching his swelling temper. "I have just as much claim to the project as you do, and I vote not to sign with ProScience. What's more, if you dare try to sign away our rights, I'll retain an attorney and sue your ass."
    Nate's electric blue eyes sparked with outrage. "You'd sue me? I thought you cared about me!"
    Ben crossed his arms, returning Nate's stare with a steady one of his own. "I do care about you. I care so much I'm trying to keep you from making the biggest fucking mistake of your life."
    "I don't believe what I'm hearing! I thought I had you figured out enough to trust you, but you're a stranger right now, Ben. I don't think I know you at all." Nate stood up and threw his napkin down on the table. "Listen up. I'm shutting the project down as of right now. I refuse to do any more experiments, or further research. Without me, you can't proceed. Our work will die, but at least I'll know you won't kill yourself or someone else by trying to time jump prematurely."
    Ben's fury finally bubbled over. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and gave Nate a hard shove.
    Nate stumbled, hitting his rear against the table, grabbing the edge to steady himself. The jolt knocked over a wine glass, red liquid spreading across the white tablecloth like a bloodstain. His expression was stricken. "Are you fucking crazy? That's it. You've lost your mind. I'm out of here."
    Ben realized what he'd done. He'd never before resorted to violence, and was instantly, deeply ashamed of himself. He tried to stop Nate, to apologize, but Nate refused to listen. Not that Ben blamed him. His actions were