The radio crackled with static, the only sound in the dark bunker. Lieutenant Henry Shaw of the US Army sat at the receiver, his headphones pressed tight, his eyes scanning the dial. They had been intercepting German transmissions for months, but this one was different. The voice was young, frightened, and speaking English.

“This is Lieutenant Charles Evans of the US Army Air Forces. I’ve been transported to the year 2026. The rift over Dover is real. It’s a time portal. And it’s opening again.”

Henry’s heart pounded. He called his commanding officer, who listened with a skeptical frown.

“It’s a trick,” the colonel said. “German propaganda.”

“What if it’s not?” Henry asked.

The colonel shrugged. “Then he’s a madman. Either way, we follow orders.”

The voice continued, desperate. “Please. You have to warn the pilots. Keep them away from the rift. If they get too close, they’ll be pulled through. I’ve seen it happen.”

Henry looked at the radio, at the impossible, at the weight of the moment. He made a decision.

He went to the airfield, found the pilots who were scheduled to patrol over Dover the next morning.

“There’s something you need to know,” he said. He played the recording.

The pilots listened, their faces pale. When it ended, they were silent for a long moment.

“What do you want us to do?” their commander asked.

Henry looked at the sky, at the future, at the weight of the moment.

“I want you to change your flight path. Avoid the area over the channel. Just for tomorrow.”

The commander shook his head. “We have orders.”

“Then break them,” Henry said. “Save your pilots.”

The commander was silent. Then he nodded.

“We’ll take the long way.”

The next day, the patrol flew north, avoiding the channel. The rift opened, as Charles had predicted, but no planes were lost.

Henry never heard from Charles again. But he never forgot the voice that had come from the future.

And he never stopped wondering if Charles had ever found his way home.