Twisted Time

15 - Years and centuries

The contraption room, 01:12

The radiant smile on Ric's face drives heat into Dan's cheeks. I literally threw myself at him. Ten points for finding a perfect way to embarrass myself and spoil the good impression I tried to make.

Yet she doesn't dare to loosen her grip before the lights stabilise. Only then she steps back from the victim of her hugging attack. "Sorry, I'm usually only that pushy on Fridays—and if they fall together with a lunar eclipse. But this constant time-switching gets to me."

Ric takes her hand, his grip warm and assuring. "An understandable overreaction. Let's keep permanent contact, so you don't disappear on me."

Dan studies their intertwined fingers. "The jumps don't occur in fixed intervals, right?"

"No, I doubt it. I guess they use an early model of the TA mark two, the first version approved for living organisms. I don't think you'd survive several transfers with one meant for inanimate matter. Still, their installation seems dodgy and doesn't deliver you to your final destination."

"So, this started with inanimate objects? Interesting."

Ric frowns. "Can we cut this discussion? I doubt your personal future history is an adequate conversation topic. Our situation is complicated enough, as it is."

"Fine, I don't want to be the reason we get caught in a time loop. But how can you be sure we aren't already trapped in a temporal paradox? Or part of an infamous plan? Perhaps the shift pattern isn't random after all?"

He pulls her to the row of desks on the right side of the room. "Unlikely, the whole operation here has a nasty touch of dilettantism. Don't forget these are the early days of PTT."

Dan follows his lead, frowning. "What the heck is PTT?"

"Personal temporal transport. It took decades until your groundbreaking invention was ready, tested, and approved for living beings. Not to mention the fuss around commercial travel. In this current era, it's a tightly monitored experimental technology."

"You're saying! And when, exactly, is the current era?"

She observes him plug his box into another data stream. After a moment of silence, he shakes his head. "Guess we got all the info we can here and now."

"Hm, Earth to Major Tom, care to share where here and now is?"

"Sorry, I can't help forgetting you're not yet a member of Chronos. You do an impressive job at blending in. If not for your word, I'd never believe you're from the twentieth century."

Dan sighs. "On the danger of appearing petty, I made it two decades deep into the twenty-first century. When I'm not bouncing back and forth through the time continuum like a rubber ball. So, what's the current date?"

"Target destination for this job is the second of March 2103. As I mentioned, your invention needed a lot of time to be refined."

Dan gulps down dry air to suppress a nervous hiccup. 2103? Somehow, the fact Ric names the year without hesitation underlines the weirdness of her situation. Then a random thought pops up. "Hey, did you honestly take me for twenty-two when you asked if my birth-year was 2081, a while ago?"

It is Ric's turn to blush, and Dan enjoys the experience. But there's no time to dwell on her tiny victory. Too many questions are still unanswered. "What's your birth-year, Ric? Or is this an inappropriate question among time travellers?"

"Isn't asking for the age always inappropriate?" His chuckle dissolves her tension. "I was born in 2116. Or will be born, from our current point of view. But we should stop pondering our different timelines. It's too confusing and unimportant at the moment. Let's check what other secrets this bunker contains. I'm sure we scratched only at the peak of a veritable iceberg of criminal activity."

Dan nods and presses his hand in agreement. He reciprocates the gesture. She is tempted to take it as a subtle sign of mutual understanding. But who knows what a handshake means in the twenty-second century?

Ric extinguishes the light and opens the door. The hallway is still dark and empty. Dan wonders where the two persons went who almost surprised them in the lab. A whispered remark from her handholding partner shows his mind runs the same course. "I can't help worrying about the coffee drinkers. A few of their remarks let me suspect they are technicians of some sort. They might be responsible for the second TA, the one aimed at you."

Icy claws clamp around Dan's stomach. She holds unto Ric's hand a fraction tighter as they sneak down the aisle in the faint red light of his box. If this organisation aims to abduct her, there must be a reason. The possibilities her worried mind comes up with are all scary and unpleasant.

Ric's seems to perceive her fear, to judge by his next statement. "Whatever happens, if it comes to the worst, I think I could send you back to your time. Perhaps even permanently—we would have to verify this. However, right now, I would love to enjoy the benefits of your company a while longer. If you don't mind, of course."

The fact Ric might know a way to send her back and could have done it straight away lets her stop. "Are you telling me I could be enjoying the warm comfort of my bed or bathtub right now?"

"As I said, I'm not sure it would work permanently unless you can anchor yourself with someone."

A snarky reply forms on Dan's tongue, but she bites down on it. Her curiosity to learn more about her future and this incredible technology proves too great to ignore. After a few long breaths, she sounds almost cheerful. "All right, let's enjoy this happy get-together while it lasts. Will the mission be dangerous?"

Ric doesn't bother to answer, and she fears he considered her question superfluous. Come to think of it, breaking into the premises of a criminal organisation turns into a catastrophe in every action movie I remember. It is probably sheer luck we avoided meeting guards by now.

Well, dwelling on potential mishaps is just calling them in. Dan pushes her anxiety aside and follows Ric to the left. In passing, he presses his tiny box against each door for a few seconds. At the fourth or fifth of them, an orange light blinks in a toneless alarm. Ric stows the box and tries the doorknob. Dan holds her breath in anticipation.

The room is vacant but filled with technology. Like in the last one, a row of screens along the left wall provides an eerie, greenish illumination. In front of each control-console sits an empty office chair. The right wall is formed by a big, slightly reflecting glass panel. Dan squints her eyes to make out the room behind it. Or is it the outside? But whatever waits behind the glass is shrouded in darkness.

Ric guides Dan to the machine towering in the centre of the room. It resembles the last TA, although it is simpler and shows no signs of wear. Shiny wires and tubes snake around the sleek stainless-steel central chamber like lianas and aerial roots around a giant tree in a jungle.

Her partner studies the contraption carefully before he turns to the control unit. "Looks more like it. Let me check the data."

Dan tries to follow the fluid movements of his fingers on the touchscreen in vain. He looks up with a frown. "This is the TA focused on you, or at least May of the year 2018. I doubt it's a coincidence. But the log overflows with a long list of error messages. The transfer got stuck only a fraction of a second before completion. We should—"

Before he can finish the sentence, the room behind the glass is flooded by bright light, blinding them with its unexpected glare.