No More Secrets

"Evelyn Ashburn. You are the one person I trust above all. And I will happily marry you one day. And no, it would have taken me years to recreate all that stuff without you, and yes, there is something I'm hiding from you." I said as she tensed. "Don't worry; it's not bad; it's just hard to explain in a believable way."

"What is it?" She asked, pushing away, now looking directly at me. "You either tell me now or I walk away. You promised you would never lie to me. And what do you mean by recreate?"

I would have liked to say I never lied, but I also knew that wasn't the point. 

Seeing my momentary hesitation, she began to pull away as I pulled her back. "You've read the book by H.G. Wells called The Time Machine, right?"

She slowly nodded as I continued, "I don't know how, or why, but after I woke up in that hospital during the war, I felt like two different people. One is me, a kid who volunteered for a war of which he had no clue would be as bad as it was and almost died, and another is a person born a century from now in a world that is dying."

"All that stuff downstairs, I didn't invent any of it. It all exists in my head. I know so many things that are going to happen, and I have to at least try and stop them. Millions are going to die otherwise. I don't know how or why I'm here. Or even who I am anymore." I looked down at my hands as they shook. 

I began to hyperventilate as I sat down and said, "I'm terrified. What if I make it worse? Or what if I just ignore it? I could do so much harm."

I continued to just spill out every little doubt I had until I paused as she hugged me from behind and said into my ear. "I don't think I quite understand, but it seems you know bad things are going to happen, and you're trying your best to stop them. I don't see why you're so worried."

We proceeded to talk for what felt like hours as I told her everything about the future as well as my fears. I think she got her head around the concept after talking about concepts like reincarnation, seers, time travellers, and fortune tellers. When we finished, we simply sat next to each other, embracing; at some point, we both must have fallen asleep. 

We spent most of the day together as I explained my plans for the future. She poked several holes in them, but by the end of the day, I think she realised why I was so stressed about it.

My main goal was to set up a base in the UK for now. Supercharge British Industry and its Tech Sector. Then branch abroad. 

While I fully intend on keeping Britain an economic and territorial world power, no matter what I do, Britain will not be on par with the Soviets or the Americans.

And even as direct colonisation ends, the world still relies on exploitation. Even if I loved my country, I was also a member of the human race. 

In the future, countries would slowly catch up, but I am sure that with some help, a lot of countries could do it far quicker. 

And there were tonnes of technologies that really should have gotten funding earlier but didn't due to either ineptitude or lack of foresight. Take fuel injectors. 

In the interwar period, several upper members of the RAF were hesitant about the adoption of fuel-injected engines over carburettors, which, while more proven, had the bad habit of causing the engine to stall during high-G manoeuvres. They decided to cut funding to their research despite domestic and foreign experiments all saying that they were worthwhile. 

So, British aeroengine manufacturers, particularly Rolls-Royce, focused on refining carburettor systems for engines like the Rolls-Royce Merlin, a significant disadvantage compared to German aircraft using fuel-injected engines.

Another notable example of the Americans initially struggling with early rocket development was engine cooling with liquid fuel, specifically the use of regenerative cooling.

The Soviets discovered early that regenerative cooling involves circulating the rocket's fuel or oxidiser around the combustion chamber and nozzle before it is burnt. This process absorbs heat, preventing the engine from overheating and allowing it to operate at higher pressures and temperatures without melting.

The Americans initially believed this approach to be impractical and overly complex due to concerns about reliability and manufacturing challenges. Early American rocket designs, such as those by Robert Goddard, used simpler methods like ablative cooling or relied on thick materials to withstand heat, which limited performance.

The Soviets, under engineers like Sergei Korolev and Valentin Glushko, recognised the potential of regenerative cooling early on and successfully implemented it in their rocket engines, such as the RD-107/108 used in the R-7 rocket. Their focus on robust, practical engineering allowed them to refine this technology, enabling their engines to achieve higher thrust and efficiency.

This early mastery of regenerative cooling gave the Soviet space program a significant advantage in the early stages of the Space Race, as their rockets could sustain higher performance without sacrificing reliability. Over time, the Americans adopted and improved upon this technology, but it took years to close the gap.

I was pretty sure that I could shave years off of development by simply pointing experts in the right direction.

Later we were just on the roof looking up at the stars. 

"Why though…?" She asked. 

I smiled and said, "Why, what?"

"You don't have to do this, you know? We could just live out our life. Be happy," she said. 

I chuckled and replied. "I know. It's what I intended at first. 'Invent a few things,' live off the money. And when I fell in love with you, I got that desire even more. But…"

I paused for a moment, thinking, before continuing. "But if I did that, I would never be able to sleep well. I would always think about it if I had tried. The world is not going to be a nice place. Nothing really changes. It just has a new coat of paint. I figure the human race needs a strong kick to really make any changes."

"I understand that. Are you ever gonna tell anyone else?" she asked. 

I shrugged again. "Don't know. I have an idea of someone who I might meet but I haven't met them yet."

"How can you trust them, then?" She asked, confused.

I smiled and said, "I read his diary. He's like the most coolest man ever."

"Coolest…?" she sounded confused.

I inwardly face palmed. "Well, 'Cool' is Slang term for someone or something inspirational. Coolest means like the most inspirational."

"Oh. I see." She rolled her eyes now understanding where my slip ups come from. She seemed to look up. "Can we really go to the moon?" she asked, as it peeked out from behind a cloud.

I chuckled and said, "We will, but unless we do something about it, it will be nothing more than a vanity project, really." as I reached up and pretended to clasp it in my hand.

"We…?" she asked, smiling. 

I shook my head and grabbed her hands and said, "No matter what happens in the future, don't think for a second I will ever leave you behind. Here's a song. A great song. One that should never be forgotten."

She let out a laugh at the sudden movements as I began to, to the best of my ability, sing Frank Sinatra's Fly Me to the Moon. She just leaned into me as she rested her head on my chest and closed her eyes. We swayed back and forth. "Fly me to the moon. Let me sing among the stars…"

"…In other words… In others words, I love…You."

"You know if someone sees us like this?" I said after a few minutes of us just swaying in silence as she even leaned closer to me as we stood on the rooftop. She snorted and said as she jabbed my side. "Please, everyone's just waiting for us to get engaged. And now you've got no excuse." 

"Well…" I said half serious and half joking.

She sighed in exasperation and pushed herself away slightly and said with a hint of both anger and mirth, "After all that, what could possibly be stopping you?"

I shrugged and said, "I just so happen to know where a new kind of gemstone will be found and planned to go get one and name it after you."

She paused for a second before saying, "Wait, really?"

"Yeah, it's found in Tanganyika and has the same colour as your eyes. I planned to tell you everything before proposi…"... I said, but was interrupted by her pressing her lips against mine. We proceeded to make out for who knows how long as I showed her how to do it better since she was still inexperienced. I loved her eagerness, though. It didn't go further than that, and pressing against each other, though. 

Was I possibly delusional? Could it really be possible to create a better world? I don't know. But at least I have one person on my side. And I can see a path. Like a singular thread in a tapestry. If I grab on tight, I might just do it.