Doc Brown laughed. “Archimedes said he could move the earth if he just had a place to stand,” he replied. “That was a pretty safe statement. Ours is more or less the same. Yes, we can get you back if we have plutonium. If. It’s not just a big if. It’s a monumental one.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you don’t know how tight things are in 1955, my boy. I’m sure that in 1985, plutonium is available at any corner drug store. But now it’s hard to come by. In fact, just about impossible.”
“How about through illegal channels?” Marty suggested. “Isn’t there a black market for stuff like that?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Damn…Damn…”
Doc Brown smiled and put his hand on Marty’s shoulder. “It’s not the end of the world,” he said.
“It’s the end of the world I’ve known.”
“Sure, but look on the bright side. This isn’t such a bad time to live. You could have gotten stuck back in the Dark Ages when you’d have to spend half your time dodging barbarians. Or you could have turned up during the Black Plague. Or even as recently as the early 19th century when there were no anesthetics, no television, movies. I mean, we’re really pretty advanced. We’ve got 3-D movies, hi-fidelity music, Frank Sinatra, instant coffee…”
“Yeah, well, in 1985 we’ve got MTV, compact discs—”
“Wait,” Doc Brown interjected. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“—Burger King and birth control,” Marty continued. “Don’t you understand, Doc? I have a life in 1985. I like it and want to go back to it.”
“But this time is so much safer. Here, you know there’ll be a 1985. In 1985, do you know there’ll be a 2015? Think about that.”
Marty shook his head. “I’ll have to chance that danger,” he said. “My friends, my music, my girl’s waiting for me. Look, here she is…”
He withdrew his wallet and showed Doc Brown the head shot of Jennifer.
“Say, she’s not bad,” he said.
“Not bad? She’s great! And she’s crazy about me!”
“Well, can’t you find a nice girl here?”
“One who hums Pat Boone, you mean?” Marty shot back derisively. “No, thanks. None of them will ever measure up to Jennifer. See this? See what she wrote here? It’s poetry!”
He pulled out the scrap of paper on which Jennifer had written: “I love you.”
Doc Brown regarded it sympathetically but his shrug of helplessness was more significant.
“It’s too bad…” he said.
“Please, Doc,” Marty begged. “You’ve gotta help me get back to the future. You’re my only hope! I know you can figure something out.
“How do you know that?”
“Because you’ve never let me down in the past.”
“You mean, in the future.”
“Right,” Marty agreed. “You’ve always told me that if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything, solve any problem.”
“I said that? How egotistical. But I must say it’s pretty good advice.”
“Doc, I know you can pull this off. Maybe now I believe in you more than you believe in yourself.”
“Marty, I’m touched that you have so much confidence in me,” Doc Brown smiled. “I really am. It means a lot to me. But it’s going to take more than confidence to generate 1.21 gigawatts of power. Do you have any idea how much energy that is? The only power source capable of triggering that kind of energy is a bolt of lightning. And not a minor-league bolt, either. It would have to be a real wall-shaker, something big enough to stop a clock.”