The Future Was Now

by J. R. Harber

  “That’s … sweet?” Asa hazarded, though it sounded grotesque. Eve shook her head and leaned back again, placing herself only a few inches from him. His breath caught in his throat; he could feel her warmth radiating.

  “It’s not,” she whispered, sounding as if she was about to cry.

  “Why don’t you leave?” Asa asked. “You’re not married, right?”

  “No, we’re not married.” She turned her face toward his. She was almost close enough to kiss him.

  “Then what is it?”

  “I’m afraid to leave him alone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m going to have to, though,” she went on as if he had not spoken. “I’m twenty-five this year.”

  “Oh,” Asa said. “You’re—”

  “Running out of time,” she finished. “I love Daniel. I don’t know if it sounds like that’s true right now, but I do love him. But I want a family, and I’ve got less than a year.”

  Asa nodded, alarmed on her behalf. The idea that someone would want a family and not have one was awful—everyone he’d known who chose to declare as single chose. He searched for words, but she went on before he found any.

  “Daniel says …” she said, lowering her voice to a near-whisper. “Daniel says he could … that he could give me children.”

  “He’s almost forty. He said so,” Asa said. “How could he have children?”

  “He said he was never sterilized,” Eve whispered. “It could be true—he said he just changed the records and never had the procedure. I know he’s capable of it.”

  Asa shook his head. “Maybe. Even so, he’s past his time. It’s not right. It’s not fair to the children—they won’t be healthy.”

  “That’s what I’ve told him,” she said.

  Asa looked at her, feeling helpless. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I think you have to be happy.”

  “Oh, is that what you think?” She smiled.

  Asa nodded. “Absolutely. I think it’s crucial to having a great life.”

  Eve laughed, and this time it sounded genuine. The hours melted away like minutes as they talked, until unexpectedly, daybreak began to illuminate the sky.

  “Hey, look, the sun’s coming up,” Asa said. The transparent walls ignited with color, the whole sky visible above the city as the dawn broke. They watched in silence, and after a moment, Eve let her shoulder touch Asa’s, leaning against him ever so slightly.

  “Thank you,” she said. “It’s been a while since I talked to someone.” Asa turned his head slowly, afraid of scaring her away. “Anytime,” he whispered, his lips just brushing her silky hair. She gave a small, contented murmur. If this could go on forever, I would be happy, Asa thought.

  Something shattered noisily in the next room. Asa and Eve startled, and the top of her head smacked against his chin.

  “Sorry,” she said hurriedly.

  “Come on,” he said.

  They rushed into the dining room and halted abruptly. One of the floor-to-ceiling wall panels was open, and Daniel was standing on the edge, looking down over the precipice. The source of the crash was obvious: the liquor bottle was smashed on the floor beside him.

  “Daniel!” Eve shrieked. “What are you doing?”

  “Stay back, love. Last thing I want to do is take you with me.”

  “Daniel, you’re not safe,” Asa said, trying to sound calm. He crept toward the gaping window, inch by inch. Daniel didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were on Eve.

  “I didn’t want you to see this,” he said sadly.

  “Then don’t do it!”

  “Eve Layla Ashland, I love you with all the heart I never thought I had. You’ve made my life bearable, but even a brilliant flame can’t light an abyss.”

  “Daniel, no.” Eve was crying. “Please, don’t do this.”

  Asa was almost to the window. Another foot and he could grab Daniel and drag him in. Keep your eyes on her, he begged the other man silently.

  “I’m sorry,” Daniel said. “I’m done.”

  He gave Eve a strange, sad smile and turned his back to them. Asa held his breath, sidling closer. There. He lunged forward to grab Daniel, bracing himself against the wall, but it was too late: Daniel jumped. He plunged, slipping through Asa’s arms like smoke as he plummeted toward the street.

  “Daniel!” Eve screamed, running to the window, and Asa caught her around the waist, holding her back. “Let me see! I have to see!” she cried, and he loosened his grip, still holding on to her as she stared down in shock at Daniel.

  He had landed on his back. From so far up, it was hard to make out his face, but he was motionless. Dark liquid spread slowly out from his head, running down a slight incline in the pavement like a river.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GABRIEL STARED AT THE SCREEN, LIGHT-HEADED.

  “Is he dead?” Joan whispered beside him.

  He didn’t answer. He reached for the controls automatically and tilted the drone down to show the alley below. Daniel’s body was motionless.

  Gabriel steeled himself, then sent the drone plunging down to ground level. He hovered it beside Daniel and switched to read for life signs. For a moment, his silhouette flickered on the screen, then it faded; the screen was a flat blue.

  Gabriel switched back to image-capture, and Joan gasped. From the corner of his eye, he saw her turn away. He walked closer to the screen. Daniel’s head was crushed. His face was unbroken but strangely distorted, surrounded by a halo of bone fragments, brain matter, and blood. Gabriel glanced at Joan; she had turned back to the screen, but she looked as if she was about to be sick, her jaw clamped tightly shut. He angled the drone’s eye away from Daniel’s body, aiming it at the end of the alley.

  “Shouldn’t we send a medical team?” Joan asked.

  “He’s dead,” Gabriel said shortly. “There’s no hurry. I’ll send a team in a minute. Split the screen with Sigma 487.”

  The screen split; now they had eyes on both the entrance to the building and the alley where Daniel lay.

  “There could be a back way out,” Joan said, having regained most of her composure. Have Gamma 631 circle the building, please.”

  There’s no way he’s still alive.

  Asa stared down at Daniel. He couldn’t look away; to move, even to blink, seemed impossible. He was dimly aware of Eve clutching his arm, her nails digging half-moons into his skin, but he could not look away from Daniel.

  “There’s no way he’ll survive, will he?” he repeated aloud. He sounded hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in days.

  “No,” Eve whispered.

  Her voice was enough to shake him out of his petrified state. He looked at her. She was staring, but not downward. She nodded at the open window, scarcely moving, and he followed her gesture. Hovering at eye level, humming steadily, was the round silver body of a drone.

  Asa drew back sharply, and Eve leapt forward and pressed a hidden button. The window closed quickly, seamlessly vanishing into the translucent wall. The drone hovered for another moment, then turned and zipped away, flying in a quick straight line toward the center of the city.

  Asa watched it go, then turned to Eve—it was only as he took in her wide, frightened eyes and her stiff posture that it dawned on him: “The drone feed,” he said in a hushed tone. “It’s going to look like I pushed him, isn’t it?”

  Eve nodded. “We—” She broke off, then cleared her throat. “We have to get out of here.”

  “There must be another drone, another camera angle that shows the truth! They’re everywhere,” Asa said with sudden hope.

  Eve shook her head, and his heart sank. “Not around here. Daniel limited their access. Asa, after that fight …”

  “I know,” he cut in. “As soon as a stalker lays eyes on me, I’ll be questioned, judged, and sentenced. Work or termination.” He sat down heavily on the couch behind them. “The drone’s already on its way to wherever it reports.”

  “It reports instantl
y—it’s already sent the feed.”

  “I’m as good as dead,” Asa said, the words sounding dramatic and unreal even as he spoke them.

  “Not just you,” Eve said. “I was on camera too.”

  “But you didn’t do anything!”

  Eve gave him a faint smile. “I didn’t have to. I was there. I didn’t try to stop you—that’s as good as helping. Besides, without Daniel’s protection I’ll be transported anyway, just for being his … and that’s if one of his associates doesn’t get to me first. With Daniel gone, I’m as good as dead!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “Daniel, how could you be this selfish,” she whispered. “What have you done?”

  She went back to the transparent wall and knelt, gazing down at the place where he had fallen. Asa watched her without moving, determination swelling in his chest.

  I’ll protect you, he vowed silently.

  “Eve,” he said, summoning a firm tone as he stood. Eve didn’t seem to hear him. She placed her hand on the glass carefully, as if it might feel her touch. “Eve!” he said more loudly, and she turned almost as if in a trance.

  “What?” she whispered, the word barely audible.

  “We have to get out of here. I don’t know what we do next, but I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “You can’t promise me that,” she said. “You don’t understand what’s happening.”

  “So, tell me, but do it while we’re moving. We can go to my parents. They might know what to do, and we can figure out our next move from there.”

  Eve didn’t answer. She was looking down at the street again.

  “Eve!” he said, almost snapping. She turned with a glare. “I’m going to protect you,” he said more quietly. “But I can’t do that if I’m dead, so we have to go, right now.”

  Her glare faded, and she met his gaze with a sudden intensity. “David,” she said abruptly and got to her feet.

  “Who’s David?” Asa asked, but Eve was already moving.

  He trailed behind her as she ran to the bedroom, grabbed a black backpack out from under the large bed, and started snatching things from around the room, seemingly at random.

  “David?” Asa asked again.

  Eve didn’t stop moving; she zipped the bag shut, apparently done packing, and tossed it at him. He caught it, watching as she opened a closet and crawled inside, disappearing entirely. Asa heard a long series of high-pitched tones, then the dark closet lit up with the electric blue of a facial scanner.

  A few seconds later Eve emerged, carrying a second, identical backpack. She took a thin rectangular black box off the bed. It was flat, about the size of a throw pillow—Asa, barely glancing at the room’s decoration, had assumed it was one. Eve wedged it into the backpack with some difficulty.

  “Give me your phone,” she said and held out her hand. “We have to leave them here.”

  “What? Why?” Asa asked. “How are we going to get anywhere? How will we get rail passes?”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Eve said grimly. “Asa, come on, give it to me.”

  Reluctantly, he handed his phone to her, and she crawled into the closet again. When she emerged, she swung the bag she’d packed onto her back and headed toward the elevator. Asa just barely remembered to snatch his own backpack before the door opened, and they stepped inside.

  Asa flinched as they came out into the lobby. Daniel’s lifeless body was visible through the transparent back wall.

  “How come no one has seen him yet?” he whispered.

  “It’s early,” Eve said. “Stay here.” She took off her backpack and thrust it into Asa’s arms, then headed for the door alone.

  “Where are you … oh.” He let the question fall short as he watched her leave the building and circle around to where Daniel lay.

  Eve knelt, took Daniel’s hand in hers, and lifted it to her lips, then bent over him, resting her cheek against his.

  Asa averted his eyes, looking out onto the street. The sun had scarcely risen, but the city was awake; every few minutes someone walked past the building. Asa glanced nervously at the elevator wall.

  How many people live in this building?

  Eve was still at Daniel’s side. She had her hand on his chest and looked as if she was saying something. Asa bit his lip, wavering on the verge of going after her. The hiss of the elevator doors caught his attention, and he stopped himself from turning, trying hard to hold a casual posture. The two women who had come down glanced at him with curiosity as they passed, and he smiled apologetically.

  “Just visiting,” he said.

  One nodded vaguely as they continued to the front door; the other didn’t respond at all. Asa watched them leave, his heart racing with the awareness that his presence alone might attract suspicion.

  Gabriel kept his eyes trained on the drone feeds. “You might want to look away,” he warned, but Joan shook her head.

  “I’m fine.”

  He followed Eve as she knelt beside Daniel. She lifted his hand to her lips, then her face twisted in grief, and she clutched his shoulders and pitched forward, hugging his body. She clung to him for a long moment, and Gabriel sat down heavily in his chair, his heartbeat roaring in his ears; his knees felt as if they might buckle. After a moment, Eve sat up. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, then bent over and slid her hand into the front pocket of Daniel’s pants.

  She came out with nothing, then tried the other. Gabriel and Joan watched as Eve rifled quickly and methodically through Daniel’s clothing, checking each pocket, moving him from side to side to be sure she had looked everywhere. Several times she stowed something in her own pockets, but the items were all too small for them to see. At last she seemed satisfied. She opened her mouth, beginning to speak. Gabriel peered at her lips, trying to read the words, but he could not make out what she was saying.

  She bent down and kissed Daniel’s broken cheek. She was silent a moment, then she began to sob. Joan averted her eyes, but Gabriel watched as Eve wept and then composed herself, taking deep, shuddering breaths. Finally, she stood and left the alley, not looking back.

  Asa glanced over again and saw that Eve was gone; Daniel’s body lay alone in the alley. She’s left me behind! Asa thought in momentary panic, then looked down at the bags at his feet. She wouldn’t have left me with all this, he thought, just as Eve rushed in through the front door, her face red from crying.

  “Are you okay?” Asa asked, the question sounding silly as soon as it came out of his mouth. Of course she’s not okay.

  But Eve just nodded brusquely and grabbed the bag she had thrust at him. She unzipped it and shoved something in before Asa could see what it was.

  “Come on,” she said and headed for the door. Asa swung one backpack across his back, carrying the other on one shoulder, and hurried after her.

  Outside, Eve slowed her pace. “Look normal,” she said.

  “Yeah, got it. Don’t act like I just killed someone,” Asa said with an edge of irritation.

  “You didn’t,” Eve said fiercely, and he looked at her with surprise. “You didn’t,” she repeated more quietly. “He killed himself. Remember that, okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said, softening his tone.

  They walked in silence for a while, Eve moving decisively, weaving through main roads and back alleys until Asa started to feel as if they were going in circles. He said nothing, assuming she had reasons for the circuitous route. At last they emerged into the plaza in front of the rail station, where he had stood so eagerly less than two days before.

  “How are we going to get on the train?” he asked as they approached the rail pass machine.

  Eve shot him a look. “I said I’ll take care of it,” she said.

  “Okay, fine.” Asa took off the second backpack and switched it to his other shoulder.

  “Sorry,” Eve said, her expression pained. “I’ll explain as soon as we’re on the train. We just have to move fast.”

  “Deal,” h
e said and smiled at her.

  She smiled back thinly, then turned back to the machine. Asa watched as she took a thin square of something—plastic or maybe metal—out of her pocket. She scrolled quickly through a series of screens on the machine, ordering the passes, then slipped the square under the phone scanner.

  Asa held his breath as the scanner’s blue light moved back and forth, but Eve just looked impatient. After a second, the machine spat out two strips of metal. Eve put the square in her pocket and handed Asa his pass. He glanced at the code strip, nervous that something might have gone wrong, then flipped it over to read the text displayed on the tiny screen: round trip to Oakville. Asa opened his mouth, then stopped himself, realizing the answer to his question—two tickets to Rosewood would raise suspicion if anyone was looking for him.

  They went to the platform to wait, but the train came quickly. Eve went first, sliding her pass into the porter slot, and Asa watched as the device slurped up her pass, then his.

  They walked through to the back of the train, and Eve paced the length of the compartment, back and forth, making sure they were alone. Apparently satisfied, she sat at a table in the back corner, taking the seat that faced the rest of the compartment. Asa sat hesitantly beside her. She heaved a sigh and put her head in her hands.

  “Eve?”

  She sat up, brushing her hair back, and looked at him, shaking her head. “This is as far as I’ve gotten. I don’t know what happens now.” Her focused energy, the force that had carried them this far, seemed to have drained away all at once.

  “I do,” Asa said quickly. “I mean, not everything, but once we get to Rosewood, we’ll go to my parents.”