Raising Abel

by Philip J. Lees

Anybody comes on strong and virtuous about not eating meat, Cornelius Crow used to say, all you have to do is refer them to the book of Genesis, chapter 4:

And in process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the LORD.

And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. And the LORD had respect unto Abel and to his offering:

But unto Cain and to his offering he had not respect.

So God—at least the Old Testament God—was clearly not a vegetarian, Cornelius maintained. Cain’s wheat and tomatoes, beans and lettuce, potatoes and parsnips, did not win God’s approval, whereas Abel’s cholesterol-laden, spit-roasted lamb and kid had God licking His chops. Throw that in their face, and chortle!

We all know Abel got a raw deal, in spite of being the favorite son, but it was Cornelius, after his latest girlfriend dumped him and said it was because his breath stank of steak, who decided to use the time machine to do something about it.

When Cornelius first found the machine, and figured out how to work it, he just had fun going back and picking up defunct pop idols—Elvis, Jim Morrison, Hendrix—from a time before they were famous, then taking them on jaunts forward in time so people could see them leaving bars and freak out. But after Janice left him for that asshole Brad he decided that something was seriously wrong with the universe and it was up to him to fix it.

It took him a while to find the right point to move to in the space-time continuum, but one of the nice things about time machines is that you can take as long as you like to figure out when you’re traveling to. It makes no difference when you finally get there. Or then.

So then was Cornelius outside the east gate of Eden, sitting in the cab of the invisible time machine, finishing off a hot dog. He was back at the very beginning of the history of humankind and he was going to make things RIGHT.

The time machine automatically became invisible in any era when it hadn’t been invented yet. Cornelius kind of understood why that happened, but he still thought it was a pisser. He looked around for something to mark the spot, so he could find his way back. The land outside Eden was pretty damn dull. It reminded Cornelius of pictures he’d seen of the surface of Mars. Brown sand, orange dust, rocks, rocks, and more rocks. And it was hot here, very hot. He climbed out, screwed up the hot dog wrapper and dropped it on the ground, then rubbed his hands together. That would do.

The only reason he’d found the machine in the first place was by literally falling into it. After one taco too many he was looking for a quiet place to puke at the far end of the car park when he’d tripped and found himself lying on his back with his feet in the air, inside … something. Fumbling about he’d accidentally launched himself into what turned out be the twenty-fourth century, although the geographic location was the same. The car park was derelict and the takeaway looked pretty much the way it had before—the boarded up windows and doors didn’t make it any less welcoming as far as Cornelius was concerned. What was more important was that the time machine snapped into visibility around him and he was able to figure out the controls. There was a big ‘Home’ button that could be found easily by touch alone. That was the one he’d pressed when he fell into the machine. Once he’d figured out the machine’s base of origin it was easy to set the space and time coordinates he wanted. So now all Cornelius had to do was find Abel and keep Cain off his back.

Inside Eden things were much better. The orange and brown gave way to shades of green, the temperature dropped by a good ten degrees, and somewhere close by running water made a pleasant tinkling sound. Cornelius took a few deep breaths as he looked around figuring out the best place to hide.

He’d been back almost this far on previous trips, tracking down sources that had been lost long before his own time and talking to people who’d talked to people who’d heard about what happened and when. The time machine came equipped with a translator device you could plug in your ear, so that was all right. Cornelius was pretty sure he wouldn’t have too long to wait.

As it was, he was only just starting to feel cramped where he crouched under the branches of two fig trees when Abel appeared, driving a dozen sheep and half as many goats along a rough track through the undergrowth. No bells, of course, but somebody, presumably Abel, had strung a few large shells round the necks of the billy goat and the ram, so Cornelius heard them coming before he could see them and had plenty of time to hunker down out of sight. Clever Abel, Cornelius thought.

Hell, he was an ugly bastard, though. Abel’s hair was like decaying moss. His forehead jutted out so far you could hardly see his eyes under it. His nose was plastered half across his face, and his chin was so far back it was almost part of his neck, like a second Adam’s apple. Never mind. Cornelius wasn’t going to let that stand in the way of the job he’d set himself to do.

Once Abel had passed, he straightened up slowly, pressing down on his knees with his hands to ease the strain, and eased the immobilizer from his pocket. The immobilizer was another useful accessory from the time machine. He’d used it once before, to slow down John Lennon in 2018 so he could drag him back to the machine and return him to 1960 where he belonged. Lennon thought 2018 was cool and wanted to stay there, but that wouldn’t have done.

Cornelius was only just in time, because along the same path came running a man who could only be Cain, charging after Abel with a large cudgel raised over his head. Cornelius aimed the immobilizer and pressed the firing stud, bathing Cain in a shimmering, silent green light. Like in a movie, Cain slowed down, lurched to a stop, then turned in slow motion to look in Cornelius’s direction. He was a handsome fellow for a murderer. Cornelius gave him another shot of the immobilizer for luck. Abel and his flock had now disappeared into the bushes without noticing anything amiss. Cain stood swaying, unable to do more than keep his balance. He’d dropped the cudgel, but his expression said he’d soon pick it up again if he got the chance.

What to do now? Cornelius walked up to Cain and gave him a shove in the direction of the water noises. Cain staggered a couple of steps, then stopped again. A few more shoves brought them to the bank of a river. Here the water ran fast and deep. When Cain saw it his eyes widened and he tried to raise his arms in defense. Another short blast of the immobilizer put a stop to that, and then Cornelius didn’t dare hesitate. Without thinking about what he was doing he gave Cain one last push and watched him topple over into the current.

Now it was done Cornelius felt numb. He walked back out of the gate, felt his way into the time machine and hit the ‘Home’ button without pausing to reflect. His hot dog wrapper stayed on the ground where he left it.

In the twenty-fourth century nobody was around, which was the normal state of affairs. Cornelius had never seen another person on his brief visits there, and as usual, he couldn’t wait to get back to his own time. He had the coordinates on a preset, like the call memory on a phone, so all he had to do was make a selection and flip the activator switch.

The taco place was still there, but looked somehow different. The sign had changed and Cornelius couldn’t read the script. He climbed out of the machine and took a couple of steps close. It could have been Chinese for all the sense it made. He remembered the translator and turned back to the time machine.

It took him ten minutes on his knees, groping and patting the ground before he accepted that it wasn’t there any more. What had happened? Then the explanation came to him. By changing the past he had changed the future. The time machine was gone. In this time line it wouldn’t be invented, but to vanish without returning Cornelius to his own era would have raised an insoluble paradox. So it had taken him home, then ceased to exist, ever. He doubled over, clasped his hands over his head, and groaned.

When he looked up he saw that a crowd was gathering. Everyone looked like Abel, only cleaner and better dressed. The prominent foreheads and receding chins suddenly raised a memory in Cornelius’s brain. He’d seen pictures in an encyclopedia. Neanderthals, that was what they were called. So in this future, the one he had created, the human race had been replaced by Neanderthals.

They jabbered at him and pulled him to his feet. His clothes seemed to infuriate them. He was dragged around to the back of the building and roughly stripped before being thrust into a crude but sturdy chicken-wire cage. In the cage were a few other weedy looking humans. Humans like himself, but smaller and with dull, unintelligent expressions in their eyes. They crawled around on all fours scratching in the dust.

Two Neanderthals pulled out one of the smaller humans before snapping the door closed and fastening it with a padlock. As they carried the boy or man towards the back door of the restaurant he seemed to go into convulsions and started a high pitched scream. The scream continued as the Neanderthals carried him inside. Then there was a sharp thudding sound and the scream abruptly ended. The other humans huddled together at the end of the cage farthest from the door, terror in their eyes, as Cornelius made sense of what he’d seen.

The Neanderthals were meat eaters all right. The taco joint was still a restaurant, just one of a different kind. And Cornelius realized with a jolt that he was on the menu.

Raising Abel

by Philip J. Lees

- End -