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Fetch Quest

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Einstein’s head rested lightly upon the tip of Marty’s toes. The teenager made a sound of sympathy and scratched the dog behind his ears. “I know buddy, this is rough.” He ducked deeper into the trench, just avoiding an arrow from an archer. “Doc, do you think you can speed it up a little with the repairs?

Doc was four feet behind him, the Delorean wedged against the back of the trench and between two thick red plates of earth. “I’m working as fast as I can, Marty! It seems the power supply to the engine was temporarily disrupted. I’m trying to patch it with electrical tape.”

“Are you sure that’s safe Doc?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

Mary gulped. Peeking up over the side of the trench, he saw in the distance the enemy – a line of Roman soldiers who’d presumed that he and Doc were a trick created by the enemy.

“Cartha!” shouted one of the soldiers, pointing the tip of his spear in their direction, “surrender and we shall be merciful!”

Marty felt Einstein tug on his sleeve, but he gently shooed him away. “Hey!” he yelled, “we’re not your enemy! We don’t mean any harm! We’re just..strangers!”

“A likely story!” shouted the head soldier.

In the background Marty could still hear Einstein whimpering, and Doc saying, "Einstein, we're in the middle of the Punic Wars. This is no time to play fetch!" But the dog was persistent enough to cause Doc to grab whatever he’d picked up out of his mouth and hold it high over his head. “If it’s fetch you want, then we’ll play!”

Marty looked away from the scene to hear sounds of confused Roman soldiers arguing and staring. When Doc held aloft the rock once more and Einstein jumped above the fault line of the trench. The Romans took one look at him, screamed a retreat, and fled from the scene.

Marty reached down and patted Einstein. “Good boy,” he said.

“An excellent boy. You’re getting prime rib once we get home, Einey my boy!”

Marty gently clicked his tongue, an encouraging sound to draw Einstein’s attention. They walked back to the now-humming time machine. They’d have to white-knuckle it to get the right amount of speed and force behind them, but now that they weren’t being threatened anything felt possible.