A Short Story

How's it going, Lee?, I asked as I descended the wooden stairs into his basement.
Coming right along, he replied, not looking up from the tangle of wiring and circuit boards he was soldering. Computer equipment lined one wall. In the middle of the floor was the ship, a flat-bottomed hemisphere, airtight when the door was sealed, big enough for one man. In case I end up in water Lee had told me.
The computer, though not a part of the ship itself, was most important. Once the time was selected, the computer told Lee where this place in space would be then. Conversely, a place could be entered, and the computer would list dates and times that would correspond to the starting point.

So, where are you going? I asked, and when?
Rome, he said, and pointed to a date-readout on the dashboard of the ship.
Figures, I said.
Lee got up from his work, set the soldering iron on the bench, and replaced the panel over the wiring maze. He climbed into the ship. See you soon, he said with a grin.
Good luck, Da Vinci! I yelled as he closed and latched the door. The ship hummed loudly and faded from view. I never saw him again. I don't know how the time ship worked, nor does anyone else. Lee Da Vinci was a loner. But maybe someday someone will do it again. It worked once.