by Rachel Ford
“Who?”
“I don’t know. He was masked. He broke into her house and shot her.” Future Alfred shook his head, a glazed look coming over his face. Present Alfred tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he looked at this man who, though not even a day older than him, looked like he’d aged decades. “I can’t believe she’s dead.”
“I’ll fix it,” he declared. “Help me – help us – and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen.”
His future self nodded. “Yes. You have to succeed, Alfred. I can’t – you can’t – lose her.”
“No,” he agreed. He was trying hard not to think of that, to focus on what needed to be done. “Tell me what to do.”
“You need to change how things play out. As it stands right now, you’re going to fight with her.”
“I am?”
“Yes. You’re going to be – well, a complete asshole.”
“I am?” Alfred was amazed at this revelation, as much as the language from his future self’s mouth. Both seemed wildly out of character.
“Yes. You’re going to be worried, about Nance and Josh.” He shook his head. “You already are. I remember, sitting there, thinking about what Justin had said.”
Alfred felt himself flush. “Is that why we fight?”
“Yes. You have to get over it, Alfred. You can’t fight with her.”
“Alright.” He nodded. “I will.”
“I mean it. If you do, she goes home. And she starts working. You know how obsessive she gets when something’s bothering her.”
He nodded. “She’s a real bloodhound when a problem gets stuck in her craw.”
His future self frowned at his harried mixing of metaphors, but said only, “Right. You need to keep her distracted. Whatever she’s working on, you can’t let her dig deep.”
“You’re sure it’s related to something she’s working on?”
“It has to be. The killer took one thing: her laptop.”
“Alright,” he nodded. “So I keep her off the case.”
“Yes. Or distracted enough so that she doesn’t notice the anomaly. She said something about checking ID’s or IP’s. She wasn’t looking for a contradiction, it sounded like she just happened to notice it. You need to find out what projects she’s working on, and then figure out whatever it was she spotted – without her getting involved.”
“Yes. That way, if I figure out what she saw, I’ll be able to work out who is trying to kill her.”
“Exactly.”
“I can do that.”
“You better,” future Alfred said. He turned haunted eyes to the taxman. “You don’t want to watch her die, Alfred.” A knock sounded at the door, and both men started. “I’ll go.”
With a whoosh of air, his mirror image vanished. Alfred cleared his throat, and tried to keep the tremble out of his voice as he answered, “Come in.”
The door opened a crack, and Justin peeked his head in. “Freddie? Everything okay?”
“What?”
“I thought I heard voices. Like, your voice. You know, talking. To yourself.”
The taxman flushed. “I was…listening to music.”
Lyon studied him. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. Because – I mean, I know things are maybe a little rocky with you and Nance, now that she’s back with the marine.”
“They’re not.”
He held up his hands placatingly. “Alright, alright. All I’m saying is, if you need someone to talk to, you know where I sit. That’s what friends are for.”
Friend, Alfred thought, was a curious term for a guy who had been as excited about the prospect of him losing his job as Justin had been during the Landing Site Earth case. Aloud, though, he said only, “Sure, I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Alright then.”
Alfred extricated himself from the office, having to sidle past Justin – who made no attempt to move to let him pass. He headed for Nancy’s office.
When he reached the nerd bunker, the taxman ignored Jeff Filmore’s eyeroll as he passed. Jeff was one of the hardware techs who gave Nance a hard time about dating a number cruncher. He tended to give Alfred grief for being a frequent guest in the IT wing, too. This morning, though, Alfred had no time to be waylaid.
He reached Nance’s office, and knocked on the open door. She glanced up and smiled. “Alfred. Come in.”
He did and shut the door behind him. “We should talk, Nance.”
“Ohh…” She raised her eyebrows archly. “Now this sounds ominous.”
“I want to do the MarvelousCon thing with you, babe.”
Her expression lost its playfulness. She’d gotten to her feet and was smiling in earnest now. “Really?”
He nodded, pulling her close to him. “I do.” He drew her in for a kiss, pressing her to him with an urgency that was entirely unsuited for a workplace environment. But it helped to drive away the images his desperate future self had conjured, of a world without her.
“Hell, Alfred,” she murmured, flashing him a cheeky grin, “if I’d known you’d get that excited about being Spock, I would have found us a convention sooner.”
“It’s the pointy ears,” he grinned, still holding her.
“That’s good to know. I see a lot of elf cosplay in our future.”
His grin broadened, and he kissed her again, warning, “Don’t push your luck, beautiful.”
He left shortly thereafter to return to his desk. Justin watched him pass with attentive eyes but didn’t say anything.
Nance and he had agreed that they’d start planning his cosplay tonight, as soon as Josh’s interview was over. Now, Alfred considered how he could distract her from her work – not enough to get her in trouble, or leave piles of unfinished project work, but just enough to keep her keen mind from being so focused she’d pick up whatever it was she wasn’t meant to see.
He settled on text messages. Every few minutes, he’d message her. And he’d wait just long enough to respond to her texts that, he assumed, she’d probably set the phone aside and picked up her work again. He started with, “What color is my uniform going to be now?”
Then, when he got his answer, “You’re sure it has to be blue?”
When she affirmed that it did, he returned, “Stupid question. Of course my queen of the nerds would be sure.” He waited for her response, which was a gif. He wasn’t sure how she always seemed to find the perfect picture response, but she did, and they always made him smile. This clip of an angry, square-jawed jock screaming “NERD” was no exception.
He waited a few minutes, and then sent, “By the way, where’s our hotel again?”
In this way, he idled away the morning. If his own list of accomplishments was anything to go by, Nancy’s morning had been very unproductive indeed; for he had barely glanced at a handful of emails. He had half a dozen voicemail messages waiting to be attended by lunchtime, and more reports in queue.
“So,” she told him over lunch, “I was thinking, once I drop Josh off, I could grab dinner to-go from Fanelli’s.”
His eyes lit up. Short of homemade, Fanelli’s was the best Italian food around. “Oh, eggplant –”
“Parmigiana,” she finished with a grin. “You are very predictable, Mr. Favero.”
“I prefer ‘consistent.’”
Lunch finished too soon, and they parted to return to their offices – with a firm hint from Nancy about how much work she had to finish before she could leave. Alfred promptly ignored it and resumed his barrage of text messages.
“Babe, don’t forget breadsticks.”
“Pass up carbs? Do you even know me, Alfred?” she wrote in reply.
He grinned, adding a few minutes later, “If I’m going to give up on a beach body, I might as well go the whole nine yards.”
Chapter Five
Alfred was waiting nervously when Nance got home. So far, he hadn’t been visited by any future versions of himself, but he couldn’t help worry
ing as soon as she was out of his sight. He was relieved to see her pull in, as alive as ever, and he greeted her with a kiss that expressed some of that relief.
She seemed surprised by the expression of ardor, observing, “Well you’re in a good mood today.”
“How could I not be, when you’re around?”
“You are really laying it on thick,” she grinned, nudging him. “Keep it up.”
They ate, and most of the conversation was spent talking about Josh’s interview. It had gone well, from the sounds of it. Alfred wasn’t particularly interested, but he nodded along and mustered enough enthusiasm to get through.
“Oh, and he found an alien show. I’d mentioned that we’d been watching some of them, so he picked it up. It looks awful.”
“My favorite kind.”
She shook her head and smiled. “You want to see it, after dinner?”
“I’d rather talk about the costume.”
She nodded. “Can’t wait to try on those pointy ears, huh?”
He could, of course, but the idea was to wrap her up in something other than work. “By the way,” he wondered, “did you get that stuff you needed to finish done?”
“Well,” she sighed, “basically. To be honest, I gave it more a passing over than I probably should have, but everything looked good. So I’m sure it’s fine.”
“What was it, anyway?”
“Just verifying IP’s for an audit.”
“Ah.” Alfred felt his heart rate pick up. That’s what his time travelling twin had said, wasn’t it?
“But, we need to find you a uniform. And make sure it will ship in time.”
“Yeah,” he nodded.
They’d just started pulling up sites when Nance’s phone dinged. A series of messages popped up. “Oh. Josh has another interview,” she said. “On Friday. He’ll need a ride.” She glanced up at Alfred now. “Hey.”
“What?”
“Maybe I should just let him borrow my car.”
“Borrow your car?” His brow creased in confusion. “How will you get to work?”
She grinned at him. “I don’t know,” she said, moving a little closer. “I mean, I could always take a cab, I suppose.”
“Why doesn’t he take the cab?” Then, Alfred flushed. God, I’m an imbecile sometimes. “Oh. You mean…you want to go in with me?”
Her grin broadened, and she leaned over to kiss him.
“But what about being discrete? If we show up together, people are going to notice.”
She shrugged. “I don’t care, if you don’t care.”
It was his turn to grin, and wrapping his arms around her, he drew her closer. “Not even a little bit.”
“Good. Then let’s give them something to gossip about.”
Nancy slept well, but Alfred got barely a wink. He’d locked the doors and doublechecked the windows, to the point that she’d laughed at his sudden onset of caution. “You can never be too careful, Nance.”
“Alright, Agent Favero,” she’d teased.
But as the sun rose and his room grew by degrees brighter, the taxman sighed a breath of relief. Nancy, his sweet Nancy, was in his arms, as alive and well as ever. Whatever she’d uncovered in that one, evil timeline had been missed this time. She was safe, for now anyway.
He still had the problem of figuring out who had been willing to kill her. But the most pressing issue had been solved. He stroked her hair as she slept, and his heart swelled not only with relief, but also affection. He thought of the Alfred Favero from the timeline that had almost been, now gone; and he was happy for him to be released from such a fate.
He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life in a world without Nancy. It was incomprehensible to him.
She stirred. “Alfred?”
“Morning, babe.”
“Morning.” She snuggled a little closer. “It’s not time to get up already, is it?”
“Nah.”
“Good.” He heard her breathing slow as she slipped back to sleep, and he hugged her tighter. Then, he closed his eyes, hoping to catch a few more minutes before the alarm sounded.
The alarm did sound, and far too soon. “Let’s drop the car off on the way into work,” Nance suggested over breakfast.
“Alright.”
It was done without much fuss. She texted Josh to let him know the plan, and he met her at the door. Alfred didn’t hear what was said, but the gist of the conversation was easy enough to follow from their body language: the marine thanked her, and she assured him it was not a problem. Then, she headed to Alfred’s car, and Josh turned back to the house.
“Okay,” she said as she got in, “you think we have time to grab a coffee on the way in?”
They did, and this time it was Alfred’s treat. She got an iced coffee, and he shivered. “It’s too cold for iced coffee.”
“It’s never too cold for iced coffee,” she told him sagely.
They arrived at work a few minutes before eight and parted in the fork in the hall between their respective destinations. “See you at lunch,” she said.
“Unless I can think of a reason to see you sooner.”
She grinned and pecked him on the cheek. Then she left, and he turned to his office with a contented sigh. Justin’s office was mercifully dark, so he congratulated himself that he’d missed his morning dose of unsolicited commentary.
That optimism was quickly laid to rest, though. He’d just taken his seat when Justin, computer bag still in hand, poked his head in the door. “New carpool, Freddie?”
“What?”
He shrugged. “Pulled in after you and Nance. Looks like you two are carpooling now?”
Alfred grimaced. “That’s right.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“I’m glad it meets your approval,” he said dryly.
Lyon just grinned. “Well, I gotta get moving. Got a call at eight. Catch you later, Freddo.”
And good riddance, Alfred thought. He turned his mind toward his work. He still had voicemails to get through from the day before, before he could start poking around in Nancy’s log from yesterday. That, of course, was all that was on his mind at the moment: catching a glimpse of what might have put a target on Nance’s back.
He listened to the messages one by one, sighing and groaning in turns at the questions he fielded. He was mid-draft of his first email response – he preferred email to phone in just about any circumstance – when his cell rang. It was the tone reserved for video chats, and he assumed it was Nancy. No one else video chatted him.
So he grabbed the door, then his phone. Now, though, his expression soured. His screen informed him that the incoming call was from none other than Josh Stevenson. Still, he accepted it, asking warily, “Hello?”
The marine’s chiseled features appeared onscreen, his green eyes flashing. “Favero?”
“Josh?”
“What the hell’s going on?”
“Um…what?” Alfred was at a complete loss to guess the source of the other man’s anger. The last he’d seen of the marine, he’d been sullenly heading back to his house as Nancy left.
“He knows about the device,” another voice cut in. At the same time, a face – a very familiar face – popped onscreen.
Alfred yelped as the sight of his own dark hair and olive skin, his eyes and thin mouth twisted in a grimace of annoyance.
“Get ahold of yourself,” the other Alfred snapped. “You’ve been through this already.”
“I have? Who are you? What’s going on?”
“I’m you, dummy.”
“From the future?” Alfred felt his heart sink. He’d taken the absence of another future Alfred as a sign that his plan worked. “Oh God. That means…”
“Exactly. You failed. Again.”
Future Alfred, he decided, was kind of a jerk. “You failed too,” he felt it necessary to point out.
“I am you, dumbass. You started poking around in the case, and you got Nancy killed. Again.”
/> The phone shifted to center on Josh’s face again. “What in hell is going on here, Favero?”
Chapter Six
It was decided, mostly by Josh and Future Alfred, that this was a conversation better held in person. “I’ll meet you at your work,” the marine said.
His, “I wish you wouldn’t,” was ignored.
“Make sure Nance doesn’t know,” Future Alfred put in. “You don’t want her getting more involved.”
The taxman, then, was left to spend the next few minutes wondering what he had done, or would do, that had imperiled Nance. He’d been planning to check her audit, but so far he hadn’t touched it.
He had just convinced himself that all was probably well when an alert sounded on his computer, informing him that Josh Stevenson had checked in to see him. He grimaced and headed to the lobby.
Stevenson was waiting, a similar expression plastered over his features. “Favero,” he said stiffly.
“This way,” Alfred beckoned him. “We’ll talk in my office.”
He took the long way around, to bypass Lyon’s office, and closed the door after them once inside.
“Alright,” he said once the door latched, “now tell me what exactly happened.”
Josh was not in a cooperative mood, though. “After you tell me what you’re doing with the spacetime field generator,” he countered. “The one Angie Garrity specifically told you to destroy.”
Angie Garrity was the CEO of Futureprise Corporation. “We couldn’t,” Alfred said. “The danged thing’s nearly invincible.”
“So, what? Since you can’t destroy it, you just figured you might as well use it? Does Nancy know you’re playing with time?”
“No,” Alfred said. “No! It’s nothing like that. I’ve never used it.”
“Then how the hell did another version of you show up in my living room to warn me that you were about to get Nancy killed?”
“I’ve never touched it before. I only use it in the future, Josh – to save Nancy.”
That, at least, seemed to throw a bit of cold water on the marine’s rage. At least as far as the device was concerned. “And what the hell is that about, anyway? You – the guy from the future – said you were working some case that gets Nance killed?”
