by Rachel Ford
“You mean, there’d be two Alfred Faveros?” he’d wondered.
“The two Nancy Abbots are what I’m interested in hearing more about,” Josh grinned.
“It’s possible,” Angie said. “You’re only here because the company disappeared. If we hadn’t disappeared, you probably wouldn’t have checked into Futureprise at all.”
“That’s true.”
“But if you didn’t come here, we wouldn’t be able to get home.”
“I hate time paradoxes,” Alfred sighed.
“The thing with this one is, we could reach a state of contradiction: you have to be here for us to get back, but if we change the state of things that got you here, the timeline changes, and you become unmoored from it. So there’s you – the you we know – and the you that lives his life in the altered timeline. Simultaneously.”
Alfred could think of worse things than two copies of himself, but Nancy pointed out the difficulties of having a twin, a kind of clone, who didn’t know you existed. “You’d have the same social security number, same driver’s license, same bank account; he’d have it, because we’d be the ones six years out of time. How would you ever hold a job or cash a paycheck?”
“Or file my taxes,” Alfred nodded thoughtfully. “On paper, we’d be the same person. Even though there’d be two of us.”
“Exactly.”
He was persuaded, in the end, that the world only needed one Alfred Favero.
“It’s all it could handle,” Josh nodded sagely.
It took eight days before Angie Garrity was satisfied that they’d done all that could be done to preserve humanity’s timeline. Alfred thought she didn’t make the call a moment too soon – he was fairly certain the world’s first revolution was brewing at the delays, right there in the Cretaceous period.
On the eighth day, though, they gathered in the lecture hall, where David Garrity had first told them that Matt Fry was dead, and they were not alone. It was, Alfred realized, the first time he’d been back there since.
Angie had developed a kind of pallor lately, but it seemed worse today. “Alright,” she said. “Are you ready?”
Twenty-seven enthusiastic yeses met her query.
“Then let’s do it.” She turned to the dials on the device face, and made her selection. They’d agreed already that they’d return to the same year and day that Alfred and Nancy had crossed.
Now, she looked up, and handed the generator to Nancy. “You should have the honor, Miss Abbot. You’re the only reason we’re going home, after all.”
Nancy took it, and, with a hand that shook a little, pressed the button.
The world swam in white light, and the taxman’s ears hummed. He blinked at the brightness, at the deluge of sound.
And then he blinked into the lights of the lab, and the mechanical voice of the system overhead saying, “Welcome back, Doctor Garrity.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alfred radioed the pilot to ask for a delay in pickup. There was still a Tyrannosaurus Rex outside the lab, and as eager as he was to get home, to get back to his office and his familiar surroundings, he hadn’t forgotten the feeling of being chased by that monster. To Jenkinson, though, he said only, “Our work’s taking a little longer than we expected. Can you give us another day?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Favero. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” the pilot answered.
“Alright,” Angie said, “we need to focus on clearing this place. Getting the dinosaurs under control, first, and then back home – their home.”
Josh nodded. “Yes ma’am.” He turned to the other members of the security detail. “Alright, men, let’s see what’s still left in the armory.”
The civilians remained in the lab while the soldiers hauled tranquilizers and shock grenades out of storage. Stevenson stopped by on his way out – to talk to Nancy, of course. “Funny,” he grinned, “it’s good to be back, but it doesn’t feel much different.”
“It’ll be different as soon as this place is cleared,” Angie said, pointedly enough to earn a smile of approval from Alfred.
“Yes ma’am,” the marine sighed. Then, with another smile at Nancy, “See you in a bit, Nance.”
This was true – a kind of portent of things to come. The team finished their work in good time. Inside the lab, they could hear distant roaring, and feel the tremble of the earth as the T. Rex passed overhead. But it quieted quickly.
Then the soldiers poured back in, smiling and boasting of how well their hunt had went. Stevenson was a little smugger than usual.
“Good work,” Angie said, “did you tag them for transport?” This, she’d explained earlier, was how Futureprise had moved dinosaurs in the past: with a chip that linked the reptile to the generator. As long as the chip was in range, the jump across time or space could be made.
“Yes ma’am,” Stevenson offered a mock salute. Alfred grimaced at the sight of how pleased with himself the other man was.
“Excellent.”
The predators were cleared before the day was out. They camped overnight in the lab. “We’re going to have to do a full survey of the oasis before we take this thing down,” Angie said. “To make sure we haven’t missed any guests. But, once that’s done, I’m going to dismantle the generator.”
“Dismantle it?” Alfred was surprised. “Why?”
“It’s too dangerous, Mr. Favero.” She shook her head, a pensive look spreading across her features. “It’s probably our greatest invention – Dave’s and mine. And it killed him.”
“That was an accident,” Nancy said gently.
“Yes. But…ever since you gave me the key, Nancy, all I can think of is what I could change, what I could do differently…what I could do to bring Dave back. And I know better. I’m the one who was always telling Dave to respect the timeline.” She smiled, a bittersweet look in her eyes. “It’s too dangerous. It’s too much power for anyone to have. Even me.”
Now, Angie Garrity glanced up at Nancy. “And the portable generator, Miss Abbot?”
“Do you want it back?”
“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “That’s even more dangerous. Here, I’m surrounded by my people. I’m accountable to them if I fail to keep my promise. But that…that I can have with me anywhere, anytime. I can conceal it, I can use it.
“No, I don’t want it back. Can I trust you to dispose of it?”
Nancy nodded. “Alright.”
“Good. Then, I should let you go; you have a chopper to reach. It will take a few weeks to get things sorted here. But I’ll see you again, Mr. Favero and Miss Abbot.”
Alfred nodded. “And Angie?”
“Yes?”
“Those, err, problems with your tax forms?”
She smiled at him. “I’ll get my lawyers on them, Alfred.”
He nodded. “Good. I think that wraps up my investigation, then.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alfred and Nancy returned to the office with not much fanfare. Director Caspersen heard their report with upraised eyebrows. “You mean, you didn’t find a damned thing?”
“No,” Alfred said. “It was just a misunderstanding. They’re working to correct a few oversights, but…well, it wasn’t what I thought.”
The director snorted. “Are you admitting to being wrong, Favero?” She laughed. “Now there’s a first time. Maybe this trip wasn’t a total bust after all. Don’t forget to get your expenses in.” She shooed them out of her office. “Now go, vacation’s over. Get back to your real work.”
Their colleagues did remark a curious change, though, in the pair’s behaviors. While they’d left as near enemies, they returned as close confidantes. “That must have been an interesting three days,” Caspersen observed a few days later, after a team meeting in which they’d sat side by side – paying more attention, it must be said, to their private exchange of thoughts than the content of their briefing. “Not that I’m not happy, mind you, to see you two finally getting along. But pretend you’re
listening next time, at least, okay?”
Alfred wasn’t sure what she was talking about. It was true, he had to admit, that he spent more time in the nerd bunker in that first week back than he had ever done in his entire career so far. And he came into work with a smile plastered on his face and a lightness to his step that had evaded him for the better part of a decade, at least.
It was during the second week of their return that they got an invitation to the office of Angie Garrity, CEO of Futureprise Corporation. Nancy was concerned. “What do you think’s up?”
“Not more problems with the timeline,” Alfred sighed. “I don’t think my brain could handle any more of that.”
“Speaking of…” Nancy said. “What the hell are we supposed to do with that generator? The damned thing is solid as a rock. Looks like they built it to withstand just about anything. A hammer was certainly no match for it.”
Alfred cringed at the idea of Nancy wielding a hammer on a device capable of manipulating space and time. “That, uh, doesn’t sound very safe.”
“Probably not,” she agreed. “Still, I don’t know what to do with it. Should I just give it back to her?”
Here, the taxman shook his head. “If she doesn’t trust herself with it, we probably shouldn’t either.”
“But how can I trust myself? Isn’t that the height of hubris, to think that I’m more trustworthy than Garrity was? Than Angie is?”
“I trust you,” Alfred said.
She pulled a face. “You’re just being nice, Alfred. I’m serious. I shouldn’t have that kind of power.”
“Well,” he mused, “if we can’t destroy it, why don’t we make it inoperable?”
“You mean, like throw the key away or something?”
“Not throw it away.” That, somehow, didn’t sit right with the taxman. “Hide it somewhere.”
Nancy’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll give it to you.”
Alfred blinked. “I don’t want it. I’m done with time travel, Nance.”
“Not the generator, the key. I’ll keep the generator, you keep the key. That way neither of us has the power to use it.”
“Oh.” He considered. “I guess that could work.”
They arrived at Angie Garrity’s office at the appointed time, and were directed to wait in a reception area by a prim secretary. It was a swanky building, furnished in new but tasteful designs.
In a minute, the inventor came out to meet them. She shook their hands warmly. “Nancy. Alfred. Thank you for coming by.” Then, she led them into her private office. It was a larger, more handsomely furnished room. There were schematics and a variety of paintings on the wall, and in the center of the room, behind Angie’s desk, a giant portrait of David Garrity.
“How are you doing, Angie?” Nancy asked as they took their seats.
The older woman shook her head, and loosed a breath. “Well, I think. To be honest, I’m still working on readjusting to this life, in this time.”
“And Jackson?”
“It’s a little harder on him. He was born in the Cretaceous period, you know. And that’s brought up its own host of issues. Getting him a social security number, and all that.” She smiled. “Thank God for lawyers.”
That was probably the first time in his life he’d heard that particular sentiment, Alfred thought.
“I’d be lost without them,” she continued. “But, enough about that…how are you?”
They assured her that they were readjusting well, and she was pleased to hear it.
“What about the generator?” Nancy wondered.
“It’s gone,” Angie said. “So are the dinosaurs.” She glanced at Alfred now. “And, Mr. Favero, you’ll be happy to know that the lawyers are working on refiling those corrections we talked about.”
He nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“I don’t anticipate we’ll owe much when all’s said and done,” she admitted. “We took pretty heavy damage to the facility these last six years. That’ll offset most of what we do owe. If not more.” She shrugged. “The lawyers think we may even end up in the black.”
Alfred frowned. He didn’t doubt her. The tax code was a mercurial beast. The intent of the law was not always the letter of the law; and if there was anyone more adept at analyzing the letter of the law than an analyst like himself, it was a good tax lawyer. The kind the CEO of a corporation like Futureprise could afford.
“I am working on settlements for our people, though. I want to make sure we treat them fairly.”
“You mean,” Nancy said, “for the families of the dead?”
“Yes, but not just them. People lost six years of their lives. Some of them lost relationships in the bargain, houses, everything. Nothing can make up for that, I know. But I want a settlement that will help, anyway. It’s the right thing to do. I know Dave would have wanted it, too.”
They caught up for a while longer, commiserating over their shared experience in the Cretaceous period and promising to stay in touch. Then, Angie had to get to a meeting. “Thank you for coming by, Nancy. Alfred. It was good seeing you again.”
“You too, Angie.”
“I hope you’ll come again.”
They promised to do so, and took their leave. “Well,” Nancy said as they stepped into the reception room, “she looked well. I’m glad to see it.”
Alfred nodded, but the truth was, his mind wasn’t on Angie Garrity. This was the first time he and Nancy had been out of the office together since the trip to Futureprise, and he’d been working up his courage all morning to ask what he was too scared to ask in the familiar drabs of the office building. “Hey, Nance,” he said as they reached the hall, “I was thinking…you, uh, want to get some lunch with me some time?”
“You mean, on the way back?”
“Sure,” he said. It hadn’t been what he’d meant – he’d been thinking more along the lines of a lunch date – but he’d take it.
“Sure,” she agreed. “I am kind of hungry.”
“And then,” he said, “maybe we could-”
“Nance!” a voice shouted.
“Oh God,” Alfred groaned. It was Josh Stevenson. Of all the people…
“I thought that was your voice, Nance.” He had poked his head out of an office, but now was headed toward them.
“Josh!”
“You know, I didn’t get your number before you left. Not that it would have mattered. My phone was disconnected six years ago anyway.” He shook his head, and she laughed. “But now that I have a phone again…”
They exchanged phone numbers, and Alfred tried not to scowl. “We’re kind of on a schedule here,” he said in a moment.
“Sorry, dude. Don’t let me keep you,” the marine answered. “Hey, Nance, maybe you and I could grab something to eat while he heads back?”
“Well, actually, we were just going to get some lunch,” Nancy said. “This is perfect. Why don’t you come with us? We can all catch up.”
The two men exchanged glances – scowls, more like. Alfred repeated, mustering his best effort at enthusiasm, “Perfect.”
And Stevenson answered, “Yeah, that sounds great. Where are we headed?”
UFOs & Unpaid Taxes
Book 2
by Rachel Ford
Chapter One
Alfred Favero, senior analyst with the Internal Revenue Service, whistled as he strode through the cubicle farm. This was the domain of the junior analysts, who hadn’t yet earned an office of their own. A few annoyed glances turned his way, but he took no notice. He was headed for the IT wing – colloquially known among the analysts as the nerd bunker – with a manila folder full of curiosities in tow.
He entered the nerd bunker still whistling, and a head poked out of an office down the hall. It was Jeff Filmore, one of the hardware technicians. “Oh, you again Alfred,” he greeted. “Imagine that.”
He didn’t care for the other man’s tones, or the subtle eyeroll that accompanied his words. But Alfred was in too good a mood to let
it get to him. “Is Nancy in her office?”
“Yup.”
The taxman nodded, setting his steps for the rear of the quad, where her office was situated. Nancy Abbot was lead Information Technology analyst in Alfred’s division of the IRS. “The queen of the nerds,” he would tease her.
But Nancy was more than that to Alfred lately. She was the reason he woke every workday with a smile, and the reason his weekends lasted too long.
She hadn’t always been. Not too long ago, they’d been nearer enemies than friends. But that had been before they worked the Futureprise case together. That had been before they’d traveled through time together and faced death in the prehistoric world side by side.
She smiled as he stepped into her office. It was a sight he’d been waiting to see all weekend, and his heart beat a little quicker. Then again, her particular combination of light eyes and dark hair, of exquisite features and fair figure, always set his heart aflutter. The smile damned near killed him. Still, he tried to act nonchalant as he entered. “Mornin’ Nance.”
“Morning Alfred,” she greeted. “Happy Monday. Hey, I grabbed a coffee on the way in this morning. I picked one up for you: latte, extra shot, extra sweet.”
She indicated the cup, sitting on her desk, and he wondered vaguely how she knew he’d be by to pick it up. “Thanks.”
“You bet. So, you have a good weekend?”
“Very good. I got caught up on some work.”
She fixed him with a crooked smile. “That’s good.”
He took a sip of coffee and sighed. It was perfect, just the way he ordered it. “How about you?”
“Oh, yeah, it was good. Hey! I wanted to tell you…you remember how I told you I couldn’t get tickets to the advanced showing of Fire Fell?”
“Yeah.” Fire Fell was a superhero movie that Nancy had spent the last month talking about. “That comes out this weekend, doesn’t it?”