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Yon had used the second of his three displacements to pop back to early July 2028, only an hour before Harley’s plan was due to commence.
He showed up in the men’s room of Jo’s restaurant in Lincoln City once again, just in time for the lunch rush. He’d already used his first displacement to lay the groundwork for his plan, obtaining a product on the black market in his home year of 14484.
In about an hour, Alex Lee would stop here as part of his pre-victory victory tour of the home state. A premature victory lap if ever there was one.
Today, Yon was dressed casually and carrying a notepad and pen. He told the hostess he was a professional fiction writer, and that he’d been assigned by his mentor to write a piece about Jo’s. The hostess showed Yon to a table near the west windows, and Yon ordered a strawberry lemonade and a bowl of clam chowder.
He pretended to jot down observations on his notepad while he ate the to-die-for chowder, and the manager approached the table to greet him.
“So, I hear you’re going to be writing a story about our restaurant – that’s wonderful!” she said. “I’m Cynthia White, the manager here.”
Yon offered his hand, “Nice to meet you. Yes, I’ll be writing a story. This place is great – and the chowder is phenomenal.”
“Glad you like it. Listen, if you send me your story, I’ll give you a marionberry pie a la mode, on the house. How’s that sound?”
“That’s great!” Yon smiled eagerly. “Do you think it would be possible for me to tour your kitchen? I may want to use something from there in my story.”
Cynthia assented and led Yon back through the swinging doors into the bustling, pot clanging, and yelling of the large kitchen. As Yon passed one of the huge stock pots of bouillabaisse, he stealthily dropped a tiny capsule into it. He did the same at each of the other four pots, careful to not be noticed. It helped that he had his notepad with him to conceal the drops.
The capsules contained a simple temporally-phased compound, Chronolixer – illegal in Yon’s time, non-existent in 2028 – that would effect nobody except someone who had recently traveled through time.
Someone, say, like Zim Harley.
With bowls of the Chronolixer-laced chowder scattered all over the huge dining hall, Harley wouldn’t stand a chance when he showed up to oversee the end of Alex Lee’s life.
Time and Again: A Collection of Crazy Chronology Page 25