I knew there was an answer.
There had to be.
For one thing, paradoxes were supposed to be impossible.
Oh, sure, I know — time travel makes the most horrendous of paradoxes possible, even probable; but that’s just not so. A paradox would be a violation of the laws of nature. By definition, they’re the laws of nature. And inviolable.
Therefore, paradoxes are impossible.
Because if paradoxes were possible, then time travel would have to be impossible — otherwise, we’d have people killing their grandfathers right and left. We’d have people seducing their mothers or kidnapping their fathers. We’d have time travelers killing the inventors of time machines. We’d have all manner of anachronisms and flukes, and the laws of nature would be violated in so many different ways, it would take the invention of a whole new science to catalog them all.
But time travel was possible. I had proved it myself.
So paradoxes were impossible.
It sounded all very neat when I explained it to myself that way. Paradoxes had to be impossible; therefore, they were. Everything could be worked out logically—
Then, dammit, why couldn’t I work this one out? If this wasn’t a paradox, it was still way ahead of whatever was in second place.
All right. Let’s assume that paradoxes are impossible — then where do I go from here?
The checks, for instance. Obviously, Danny’s check was the good one, the one we would have to cash in order to collect our winnings. But the question was how?
Should I take it forward with me into the future? But then what would Danny have to show himself when he was Don? (Of course, I hadn’t made a point of comparing the checks this time around, had I?) But if I left it here in the past, how would I get it in the future?
My check shouldn’t exist. It was from a canceled world. Danny’s check was the only valid one here because I had done things differently from the way they had originally occurred. If I had done things the way Don had done, I would have had the “duplicate” of Danny’s check.
But I hadn’t. I had tampered with the timestream and didn’t have a valid check at all. And that meant—
—that I was a canceled check too.
Because whatever I did now, this Danny — when he became Don and went back in time — would not do exactly the same as me. It would be impossible for him to do so. Just as I had eliminated the Don preceding me, this Danny was going to eliminate the Don preceding him — me!
Did I still exist?
Was I about to wink out?
Was it just a matter of time?
Yes — of course it was a matter of time. Ha, ha. The joke’s on me.
No, this couldn’t be right; I was thinking in paradoxes again. After all, I was here and alive — I was me. I hadn’t eliminated Don at all. I had become him and done things differently, that’s all.
Sure — but I still couldn’t stop asking myself what had become of my Don who had done things the other way and the Don who had given me the newspaper and told me not to be so greedy. ("Forget about them — you simply won’t become them, that’s all,” I told myself. “How would you know?” I answered.)
Let’s see… there must be a way to figure this out.
Danny had to go back in time and become Don to his Dan.
If he takes his check back with him, I won’t have it to cash. On the other hand, if I take it forward with me, he won’t have a check to show his Danny. (He’ll be changing the timestream, just like me. Unless — )
What if I gave Danny the false check to take back with him? Would that undo the damage? Or would it just make it worse?
My mind began to boggle.
But it was the answer, of course. This Danny would become my Don! That’s why his check would match mine when he went back to meet me — (and he’d test to see if he could change the past too! He’d try wearing different clothes than me: the slacks and sweater!)
And I’d still end up with the money!
Yes, of course. It had to be the answer.
I’d been sitting and staring at the checks for the past ten miles. Now I handed Danny the false one and he slipped it into his pocket without even looking at it.
(Ha-ha! I cackled gleefully to myself.)
I realized Danny was saying something: ” — what happens now? Do you go back to your time?
I grinned at him. “Not yet. First we go out to celebrate. Like rich people.”
This time, I won the argument over who was “gating to use the bathroom first. I don’t mind sharing my razor, but at least I ought to get the first shave off a new blade. Danny seemed a little bothered by the pseudo-intimacy of us both dressing out of the same closet, so I compromised and let him wear the red sports jacket. While he showered, I reset my belt and flipped back to morning, phoned The Restaurant and made reservations for two, then flashed forward again, appearing at the exact instant I had disappeared and in the same spot. The air hadn’t even had time to rush in. (That was one way to minimize the jump-shock.)
It was at The Restaurant that I began to realize what Don had meant the night before and why he had said what he did. Danny looked so … innocent. So unprotected. He needed someone. And I could be that someone — I was that someone; I knew Danny better than anyone.
He was my “little brother” — I would watch out for him; and that would make him feel as secure as I felt when my “big brother” Don was around. It was a strange feeling — exciting.
“You’ll never have to be alone again,” I told him. (I knew how lonely he was; I knew how much he hated it.) “You’ll always have me. I’ll always have you. It makes more sense this way.” (I would keep him from falling into those bitter, empty moods, those gritty moments of aching frustration. It would be good for both of us.) “I don’t like being alone either. This way I can share the things I like with somebody I know likes them too.” (No, I would never be lonely again; I would have my Danny to take care of. And my Don to take care of me. Oh, it was such a wonderful feeling to have — how could I make him see?) “I don’t have to try and impress you, you don’t have to try to impress me. There’s perfect understanding between us. There’ll never be any of those destructive little head games that people play on each other, because there can’t be.” It all came spilling out, a flood of emotion. (I wanted to reach out and touch him. I wanted to hold him.) “I like me, Danny; that’s why I like you. You’ll feel the same way, you’ll see.
“And I guarantee, there are no two people in this world who understand each other as well as we do.”
Life is full of little surprises.
Time travel is full of big ones.
My worrying about paradoxes and canceled checks had been needless. If I had thought to read the timebelt instructions completely before I went gallivanting off to the past and the future, I would have known.
I was right that paradoxes were impossible, but I was wrong in thinking that the timestream had to be protected from them. After all, they were impossible. It wouldn’t have mattered whether I had given Danny a check or not; changes in the timestream are cumulative, not variable.
What this means is that you can change the past as many times as you want. You can’t eliminate yourself. I could go back in time nineteen years and strangle myself in my crib, but I wouldn’t cease to exist. (I’d have a dead baby on my hands though… )