Time travel - A blessing or a curse?

NEW MILLENNIUM;

YEAR 4000

Dennis checked the readings again, juxtaposing the mechanical readings with the energy wavelengths, they were a match, almost similar to calculations, just off by a few numbers, very easily fixed. The Aristocrats of the New Millennium World Order had become fixated on the Old World, that which had been lost to time and the pillaging of humanity. They thought it wise to avert their impending doom, this was information privy only to those on the highest rung of the New Millennium World Order, earth was about to meet its demise, and there was no saving it.

Source
Dennis left the Time Room, and a series of robots moved about, their algorithm programmed to a singular task, clean, dust, arrange, etc. Several thousand robots worked seamlessly together like a hive mind, the holo band on his wrist worked as the mother network, connecting them all together, writing and rewriting their algorithm to fit Dennis's purpose, whenever and wherever he wished.

Honestly, Dennis really didn't care that the earth was a few thousand years close to its imminent destruction, he just cared about all the money he could make from this. The funds from The Aristocrats weren't enough to suit his appetite, no, he wanted more, and what better way to get it than to build a time machine, travel back in time, and make the technology accessible, selling it at a ridiculous price to those who could afford it. If the world was going to end, better to save his own skin first.

He moved quickly, based on simulated and estimated time, the New Millennium World Order only had three decades and five years before the earth imploded. The Time Room was behind him as he opened an iron-foiled door and stepped inside, making his way to the holo table where he began his can calculations. Whilst the readings of test two thousand, four hundred and sixty-nine were almost similar to his previous calculations, Dennis desired pure synchrony, he was doing this for him after all, if he planned at all to let The Aristocrats have a share of his little pie, he would sell it to them this way, no matter how good their own scientist where, they would never know he played them.

If he sold it to them this way and they died due to the error of the readings not matching his calculations. He would ask them to provide more funding before fixing the problem, but that in no way would favor him. The world was about to end, what use was money when the world was destroyed? No, he was going to do things his way.

Dennis sat at his table for hours, the only lighting the slight glow that emanated from his holo table as Dennis calculated, simulated, and recalibrated his whole equation. He worked silently and meticulously, using precise and controlled body movements, conserving as much energy as possible while he worked for long hours. The holo band on his wrist made his work easier as it was connected to his nervous system, all it took was a thought, a slight nudge here or there on the table to get his scientific ball of equations and calculations rolling until it reached his desired result. The world could burn for all he cared, but he was going to make his money anyway, and he wasn't going to wait until the last moments to do so. The Aristocrats who funded this little project were breathing down his neck already like a pack of lupines.

His holo watch gave a low chime, signaling the passing of twelve hours, Dennis was done with his calculations. He stood up almost mechanically, his body moved on it own towards the time room whilst his mind ordered the nano intelligence clapped on his wrist to fix him a meal. A few minutes later, he pushed the Time Room door open and there like a loyal butler stood a robot that looked no different than the rest, holding up a tray of synthetic nutrients, based on what existed in the Old World before it fell. A thick sludge of citrus in a cup was placed on a saucer, held by another robot, to wash down his synthesized meal.

Dennis knew not the word meat, but he was going to find out soon. Test number two thousand, four hundred and seventy was the charm. He set the machine running as he slurped on his citric sludge, thoughts of unending riches filled his mind as the machine spurned and weaved a time web, cutting through planes and dimensions and searching for his desired point in time. It ran smoothly without glitches, and as he looked at the readings, he beamed manically as they were in sync with his calculations. This was most certainly his new beginning.

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