Lexil laughed at himself. That was a dream unlikely to happen any time soon.
He spotted the tube station, and sprinted the remaining distance. Green line to Alki Point, blue line to First Hill. Then the adventure would begin.
After an uneventful ride in a tube car with two people staring off into space—evidently absorbed in something on their eyescreens—and a man taking a quick nap on the way home, Lexil transferred to the blue line at the Alki Point substation. The tube cars to First Hill were crowded, even at this time of night. Eventually, he arrived. He was grateful he didn’t have to commute every day to work.
He put through a call to the lab. “Doc? Any movement?”
“Yes, I’m afraid you’ll have to travel a bit more. Head over to Lower Queen Anne. It looks like the disturbance is heading back to the Wallace home, or something nearby. It—she? he?—is moving that direction.”
Lexil checked the schedule. He’d have to wait about ten minutes for the shoreline tube to arrive from the south. He found a bench and tapped into his calculations for the insertion experiment.
About three months earlier, he’d started toying with the idea of a program that could cancel the effects of time decay, which was a continuing annoyance in their research, and, he imagined, any research at the institute as well. First, he had had to investigate what caused the time decay in the first place. He had come to a tentative conclusion, but he wouldn’t be able to be sure until he was able to test out his hypothesis. Perhaps this would be the opportunity he was waiting for.
20
Introduction
DANI’S APARTMENT, First Hill, Seattle, WA. 1740, Thursday, June 8, 2215.
Dani disconnected. Maybe a connexion call hadn’t been the best way to talk to Kat about bringing Anders over to meet them. She had to admit, Kat had been right about all the things they had to address between the three of them before bringing Anders into the equation. He didn’t even know about Jored yet. At least Kat and Marak knew that, from her perspective, they were part of an alternate reality.
Although, Dani reminded herself, they might not have realized that she fervently wanted to reduce them from the “real” to the merely “possible” in the process of getting her own Kat and Marak back, the Kat and Marak who were the parents of a very appealing little boy named Jored.
So she had agreed, reluctantly at first, then in complete accord, that the meeting with Anders should be postponed. It might be possible later in the evening, but Kat had suggested waiting until the next day. Friday was the day before the weekend, and they would all feel more relaxed. That was one of Kat’s strengths, being able to step back and see a bigger perspective. In that, at least—and really, in almost every other way she could think of—Kat was her Kat. She just wasn’t Jored’s mom.
She glanced at the time and was startled to realize that she’d have to hurry to catch the next shoreline tube train to the Wallace house. They still hadn’t increased the frequency on that line, and she didn’t want the fifteen-minute wait between trains. She grabbed her bag and rushed out the door, almost hitting her shin on the edge of the chair on the way. Who had moved that? She could have sworn it wasn’t there just a few minutes ago. She wasn’t old enough to be getting this forgetful.
No time to worry about it. She owed Anders a call to explain the delay, but she could make that once she got settled in the tube car.
WALLACE HOME, Lower Queen Anne, Seattle, WA. 1755, Thursday, June 8, 2215.
This time, it was Kat who opened the door after the irisscan announced her arrival. She greeted her with a warm hug and a question. “How was your day?”
“Good, I think. I came up with an idea that I think you’ll like.”
“Meeting Anders, you mean?”
“No, that was just an impulsive thought in the tube car home. This is better.”
“So then, what?”
“I want you and Marak to meet Jored.”
Kat opened her mouth to answer, and then closed it. Then opened it again. Finally, she got out a feeble, “How, exactly, do you want us to do that? Describe him to us really well?”
Dani tried not to laugh at her flustered friend. If this worked out the way she hoped, Kat would be going through a lot of other emotions as she saw herself and her son interacting. There was so much love in their family! She found herself longing for just one more taste of that. But she wanted Kat and Marak there too.
“No, I have a different idea. But I have to figure out a way around a difficulty, first. That’s part of what I want to talk to you about.” She looked around. “Where’s Marak?”
“He’s in his office. Has a story deadline. Said he’d be out in a few minutes.” Kat walked toward the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? I assume you’re staying for dinner.”
“Yes. What do you have?”
“Iced tea, frapple, beer, Italian berry vanilla blast-of-caff lemon-lime cola supreme?” Kat made out-of-breath noises at the end of the last option, exaggerating them comically for Dani’s benefit.
Dani laughed. She couldn’t help it. “My grandfather used to call those ‘graveyards.’ He’d probably never believe we actually buy that stuff now.”
“I’m convinced we’ll buy anything, if it’s packaged attractively. So what’ll it be?”
“Iced tea is fine. It’s hot outside, for June. It’ll feel good to cool off.”
“Want to take them outside? Or would that be too hot for you?”
“No, you’ve got shade out there. It looks nice.” The back yard did look nice. She was used to seeing it scattered with baseball bats, riding toys, and a swing set. This new back yard was nicely manicured, with flowering shrubs and annuals arranged around the outer border and a raised vegetable garden near the back. A fountain just off the patio offered soothing sounds. It was very calming.
The two women sat down at the table with their drinks and sipped companionably for a few minutes. Kat waved at the glass door to remove the tint for a moment. “I was checking to see if Marak was coming,” she explained. “I wanted to ask you what you found out about the finances at the institute. Last night was so crazy, we didn’t get a chance to talk about that. But I keep thinking we should wait until Marak gets done and can listen too.”
“Until Marak gets done and can listen to what?” asked Marak, as he slid the door open and waved at it to tint it again.
“Those questions she was digging into about the institute’s finances.”
“I would like to hear about that.” He turned to Dani, and his friendly grin dropped for an instant, to be replaced by a look of concern. “You are keeping safe, though, aren’t you? Not taking any risks, inviting unnecessary attention?”
“I’m pretty sure nobody knows that I exist there,” she reassured him. “Except Anders.”
“Who’s Anders again?” he asked, pulling up another chair to join them at the table.
“She’s managed to cultivate a confidential informant already,” Kat explained. “Minus the compensation, of course.”
“Whoa. Moving up into big time investigations already. You learn fast!” He was teasing, but she could tell he really was somewhat impressed.
“Anders works in Financial Services. He’s an intern too, and they pay about as much attention to him as they do to me. He was eager to help, and he’s really good at covering his tracks on the system.”
“Could be useful. What has he discovered?” Marak asked.
“More than forty percent of the money that comes into the institute is from unidentified contributors and donors. He said that wasn’t including the donors that choose to remain anonymous. These are just unexplained sums of money.”
Marak whistled. “Any idea where they come from?”
“Well, yes. But this part comes from my own investigation. And it ties in to Kat’s main gripe with the institution.”
“Privacy.” Kat interrupted.
Dani nodded. “What do you guys know about time decay?”
“It happens
to objects you used to be able to scan? And you can’t scan them any more?” Marak asked.
“Yes. I helped write a graduate paper at the university. It showed that time decay was caused when—and only when—the video, audio, and/or olfactory recordings of an object were played on an independent projector for the first time. Later, at the institute, I was told that some objects decay without that, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Ah. You’re talking about blackmail.” Marak had already leaped to the end.
“Wait. How do you get from what she said to what you said?” Kat asked.
“Scan and record a crime. Play recording. Demand money. Blackmail!” he said, succinctly. “And time decay, seemingly with no explanation for why it is happening.”
Dani nodded again. “I hate the idea that the institute is doing that. And I’m sure that some of the commissioned scans they have me do are helping to give them more evidence,” she added, miserably.
“You’re also researching history,” Kat said, reassuringly. “The goal is to put a stop to the bad stuff so the good stuff can go on.”
“How did you come to the blackmail conclusion, Dani?” Marak asked. Always the journalist, confirming each source.
“I went back to the padlock. It had decayed. But right after the blank part in the scan was another that showed me, pretty clearly, what had gone before.”
“And it was the kind of material that could be used to threaten someone?” he asked.
“Yes, except it’s someone at the institute, so I’m not sure if they’re getting money from that person.”
“Control then.” Marak got it again. “That puts an interesting spin on things. If you’ve got someone at the institute under that kind of control, you might find someone who could answer a lot of your questions.”
Dani sat up. “That’s what I was thinking.”
“Whoa, girl. Don’t go there. That person is also a person who is being closely watched. He might feel threatened if he knows you know something damaging to him. And he might be under some kind of pressure to report on other people there. You’d be waving your hands and asking for attention.”
Dani didn’t bother to correct the mistaken gender words. It wasn’t her intention to expose Dr. Brant and further complicate her life. She’d just let Marak go on thinking that the blackmail victim was a man, for now. Maybe forever.
But she wasn’t ready to give up her idea of trying to get the scientist alone to talk to her, either. With Marak’s warning ringing in her ears, she’d just take extra steps to be cautious.
“None of this surprises me,” said Kat. “It would be good to get some specific evidence and shut the whole thing down, of course. But Dani, don’t you dare think that we expect you to do this.”
“I’d like to do what I can.”
“I know.” Kat took a sip of her iced tea. “But hey, what was that idea you were going to talk to us about?”
Dani brightened. She turned to include Marak in what she’d already told Kat. “I want you both to meet Jored.”
Marak looked puzzled. “How would we do that?”
Dani pulled the four items out of her pocket and set them on the table between them. She had meant to put them back into the supplies closet, but not any more. They were her only link with her old reality. “These objects have traveled with me since before I experienced the shift.”
“Have you figured out when the shift occurred now?” asked Kat.
“Not exactly. I know it had to be between Tuesday evening here, when I last saw Jored, and yesterday evening here, when I discovered he was missing.” Her voice caught a little, and she swallowed. “But beyond that, I’m thinking it was sometime yesterday afternoon. I did two scanning sessions, and when I stepped out of the observation box between the first and the second, I remember feeling dizzy, like the room was spinning around me. It took me a few seconds to get my balance.”
Marak leaned in. He had that look on his face that Dani had learned to recognize: the journalist on the scent of a story. “And everything else fits with that as a dividing point?”
“Yeah, as far as I can figure out. Things that happen at the institute don’t really seem to be affected, except for the time decay.”
“Dani,” Kat began slowly, “I know this has all been really strange and heart-wrenching for you, and we’re trying to talk about it matter-of-factly to make it easier for you to adjust. We know you, and we know that a rational discussion of the facts helps you deal with emotional upheavals. But I’d be keeping secrets I shouldn’t keep if I didn’t tell you that it’s a little weird for me too.”
“Because you feel like you don’t know me really?”
“Actually, not that at all. You seem the same. As far as I’m concerned, you are our own Dani, and we love you very much.”
“What, then?” But Dani thought she knew. They would want to keep their own reality, just like she wanted to keep hers.
“I am happy—we are happy—to help you try to figure out what happened. But if we meet Jored, and I’m still waiting for you to tell us how, I have to admit I’ll be experiencing some difficult emotions also.” She stopped, searching for words.
Marak took over the story. “Dani, I don’t know if you know this or not, but Kat got sick a little less than a year after we were married, and it did some damage to her body. We’ve tried to have kids, but the doctors have told us we can’t. We got the final word just last year.”
Kat nodded. “If we do this, I will see this little boy, and I know I will want to love him and hold him, but don’t you see? If that other reality could be restored somehow—and I realize that is what you are hoping for—it won’t be me. It will be another Kat, without nine years of my memories. I feel like I’d be ceasing to exist myself. It would be like agreeing to commit suicide. I don’t know if I’m that unselfish.”
Dani didn’t know what to say. Finally, she offered a wholly unsatisfying response, only because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I won’t ask you to help. I don’t even know if it’s possible. I guess…I guess I just wanted someone else to mourn him with me. But that’s being selfish. I don’t need for you to grieve too. You’ve already done that.”
“How would we do it, if we did decide to meet him?” asked Marak. “Would we just be watching? He couldn’t see us, right?”
Dani picked up the objects again and passed them from one hand to another, one at a time. “I can use these to show you the last evening I spent with him. I checked them out; they still have the chronetic energies from the other reality. If I could get you in the lab, you could see it too.”
“How could we get in the lab?” asked Marak.
“You’d have to get permission, and a temporary visitor’s pass. I’m not sure how to go about that.”
“My uncle might be able to pull some strings,” said Kat, “but can we think about it? I really don’t know if I want to do this. And I don’t know how I feel about Marak doing it without me either.”
“I wouldn’t do it without you, babe. It’s both of us or neither of us.”
She smiled at him, gratefully.
Dani felt really bad for even bringing it up. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but she hadn’t had any idea of their struggles. She wondered if that was another change from her reality, or if her Kat and Marak had faced those struggles too.
21
Interception
OUTSIDE WALLACE HOME, Lower Queen Anne, Seattle, WA. 1930, Thursday, June 8, 2215.
Lexil wished he had come in a helicar so he could be waiting inside it instead of standing out here on the street. He was sure it looked suspicious, even a little creepy. He expected sirens any time. At least it was a nice evening. It would be so much worse with a steady dose of Seattle rain.
Maybe if he walked back and forth a half block it would look like he was a neighbor out for a stroll. Except this would be the fourth time he had gone for the same stroll. He sighed, and pace
d in a tight circle.
He called Doc again. “You’re sure the center of the disturbance is still in this house?”
“Yes. And it’s still sending out ripples. I’ll let you know if it moves.”
“And I’ll let you know if someone leaves.”
At first, he had considered walking right up and introducing himself to everybody in the house, but the Wallaces had an irisscan, and they might not even open the door. Besides, they had agreed before he left to influence events as little as possible. He needed to narrow down the source of the disturbance first.
Looking between houses on one of his neighborly strolls, he had caught a glimpse of three people on the back porch. He supposed the man was Marak Wallace. One of the women would be Kat, but he didn’t know which one.
It was most likely that the visitor (whoever she was) was the source of the disturbance, since it had traveled from First Hill to here just before he arrived. He wished he had been standing outside then, so he could have intercepted her. This visit could go on all evening.
He was just about to start off on another neighborhood stroll when he heard the door open. Voices with goodbye tones leaked through the opening. He couldn’t make out more than a few words, but those few were promising also. “… morning?” “… hug for me?” “… let you know …”
Now the door was opening wider. He looked around quickly for a shrub to hide behind. He didn’t want to be seen and make her go back inside. He needed her to separate herself from the two in the house so that Doc could let him know whether the disturbance was leaving with her or staying in the house. He stooped behind a hedge, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t happen to look in his direction any time soon.
He called Doc on his connexion and whispered, “The visitor is getting ready to leave. Tell me if the disturbance moves, so I don’t miss another chance to make contact.”
The two waited in tense silence on opposite ends of the connexion, Doc monitoring his sensor reports, Lexil stooping awkwardly just out of visual contact with the door. Finally, finally, the visitor stepped onto the slidewalk.
A Chronetic Memory (The Chronography Records Book 1) Page 13