by Edward Aubry
“You’re going to have to be way more specific,” I said.
“When you offered to make her a time traveler?”
“Oh!” I said. “Wow. That was like three plans ago. I almost forgot that was even a thing. I never got around to it. It turned out she was kind of semi-engaged, so the time travel thing became a little moot.”
Athena showed no particular reaction to this news.
“You seem to be taking it well.”
“No I don’t.”
“No,” she agreed. “You don’t. That was just my attempt at being supportive.”
“She wants to meet you.”
This did get a reaction. She stopped walking, and pretended to look at a diorama about South American wildlife. “Probably not a good idea,” she said after a considerable pause.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because she is quite a bit more perceptive than you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Athena gave me no reply. “You know her. In the future,” I said cautiously. “Don’t you?”
She turned to face me.
“For crying out loud, Nigel. I’ve practically told you straight out at least three times that I know her. And thank you for making my point, by the way.” She went back to the diorama. “How much does she know about me?”
“Just that you exist,” I said, feeling a little sheepish. “She didn’t ask me anything about you, other than if she could meet you.”
“That does sound like her,” said Athena. “What else does she know?”
“Um…” I said.
Athena turned around and took both my hands.
“What else does she know?” she asked again, gently.
“Kind of everything,” I admitted. “She knows about time travel. She knows about the unhappenings. She knows I’m from her past. She figured out that I am the same person as Dr. Nigel Walden.” I thought for a second. “I think that might be it. I guess that’s enough, though.”
“I’d have to agree.” The remark was scolding. Her tone was not.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked.
She laughed at that. “Almost certainly, but not from me. I can’t fault you for being open with her. That’s more than I’ve been with you.”
“You’ve had your reasons,” I said, with no idea what they were.
“That doesn’t make it right. You deserve better.” The room flashed. We were back in the park. The warm spring sun on my face felt particularly comforting by contrast to the stinging February cold I was expecting to feel outside. I looked to down to see Athena let go of my hands.
Scanning for the stroller, I found it immediately. The young couple sat at the bench next to it. Maybe five seconds had elapsed since the last time Athena and I were here. This would be my fourth visit to this park, on this day. I wondered how many this made for Athena. “What happens on this day?” I asked.
She was watching them. The young woman stood and reached under the canopy of the stroller, perhaps adjusting a blanket, or a pacifier, or maybe just touching her child. “You wouldn’t think it to see them here,” she said, “but those are two of the wealthiest people in this city. There they are, having a normal day with their child, like anyone else. Not a care in the world. And no one here has a clue of the extraordinary level of power in their midst. A lucky mugger would be set for life to take just what they have on their persons right now, even ignoring the items that could be traced.”
I scrutinized them for any sign of what Athena was saying.
“Is this another thought experiment, like the plague dog?”
“Not this time.”
Still watching them, in their spectacular ordinariness, I asked, “Why don’t they have bodyguards or something?”
“Because,” she said, “to answer both of your questions, today is the day they let their guard down. Even with all the power they wield, all their wealth, all the influence their family holds over so many, for one day they forgot to stay safe. And if they take that baby home, after this day, they will never forget again. And their son will go on to use that wealth, and influence, and power, in ways that will devastate a world.” She took my hand again. “Those are Carlton’s parents.”
My stomach, my heart and my world turned inside out. Athena had never come right out and said it, but her implication had been clear. That baby represented a threat to the future, her present, to an extent she felt justified comparing him to Adolf Hitler. And she could end that threat any time she wanted to. All it would cost would be her humanity. That alone had been difficult for me to reconcile. Now I was suddenly faced with the horror that this was Helen’s lover we were talking about. And yes, I am not proud to admit that for the tiniest fraction of a second—maybe not even that tiny—I did allow myself to think of this as two birds with one stone. I would rationalize that unspoken thought in my mind for years to come, but it would always be the single most selfish moment in my life. Well… second most.
The park flashed. My eyes adjusted to the relatively dim light of the museum. I have no memory of what I was looking at, because all I could see was that stroller, an image I did not expect to leave me any time soon.
“Why did you show me that?” I asked. It came out barely a whisper. “Why did you tell me that?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe because I am weary of carrying it alone. I know it can’t possibly make any of what comes next easy for you, and for that I am truly sorry.” She hugged me then, and I held onto her like she was the only thing keeping me from collapsing to the floor. Which might have been true. “When do you want to introduce me to Helen?” she asked in my ear. Then she stepped back. “I mean, if you still do.”
I had no way of succinctly communicating to Athena that I did not hold her responsible for anything that just happened. If anything, all I felt was an abundance of sympathy for her. How I dealt with her information was my problem, not hers.
“Give me a week,” I said. “I have a lot to work out.”
“Understood.”
“Do we need to set a meeting place?” I asked.
She tapped her left forearm. “I’ll find you.”
“Of course. See you in a week.”
She nodded. “See you in five seconds,” she said, and then she was gone.
wo days went by with no contact from Helen. The last thing she said before abandoning me at the museum to find my own ride home was that she needed time. She had also just kissed me, which I considered a mixed message at best. Nevertheless, I gave her time. In truth, I needed time myself. I had just learned something awful about her possible fiancé, and had no idea how, when or if I could share it with her. If I read Athena’s intentions correctly, it might never be necessary. I hoped that was the case. Otherwise, I would end up bearing the weight of a truth I could never share with Helen, and I didn’t know if I would have the courage for that.
On day three, I decided to break silence. If nothing else, Helen had an appointment with Athena in a few days, and she needed to be made aware of it. I walked out of my lab in the middle of the day, to find her at the library. Part of me feared she would not be there, perhaps already on her way to Paris for a life of splendor with her Adonis. Another part of me feared she would be there, and this would be the day she cut me out of her life for good.
I found her at her desk, and knocked at the open door before entering.
“Hey,” she said warmly. “Come on in.”
“I wasn’t sure how long you wanted me to stay away,” I said, planting myself in the seat next to her desk.
“The afternoon would have been fine,” she said.
“Oh. I was waiting for you to call me.”
She laughed. “Likewise. I probably should have been clearer when I left.”
This seemed much too easy. “How long have we known each other?”
“Stingrays,” she said without missing a beat. “How were your last two days? Did I shake everything up with that kiss?”
“You sure
as hell did,” I said, with what was probably obvious relief. “Fortunately, nothing unhappened to go with that.”
“I told him no,” she said.
“Oh.” I hadn’t prepared for that possibility, having assumed she would either have said yes, or not decided yet. It took a second or two for the idea to fully settle in my head. “How did he react?”
“Hard to say. I did it over vid, which didn’t feel great. He was a perfect gentleman about it, and we always knew this was a possible outcome. We both promised it would be on good terms, if it came to that. But…” She shook her head. “But I don’t know for sure.”
“I’m sorry.”
She glared. “Don’t you dare be sorry. I am a big girl. This was never about you, this was about me. So there,” she added.
“It wasn’t an apology,” I said.
“Oh. Well, thank you then.” She sighed and her face softened. “It still wasn’t about you. At least, I don’t think it was. The whole arrangement was starting to wear me down. I needed to be out of that tangle. And I think he was coming around to the same place anyway. What little time we had together was getting strained. Even the sex was getting more distant.” She winced. “Oh, crap. Sorry?”
I laughed. “Not at all. I’m a big boy.”
“Okay,” she said with a sad smile.
“So… are we…?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I need a little more time to feel free first. It matters to me that this isn’t just me leaving him for you.” She rested her chin in her hands, and gazed at me. “But yes, soon.”
I smiled. “Good. Meanwhile, are you ready to meet Athena?”
Helen perked up greatly at this. “She said yes?”
“She said yes.”
“When?” she asked with a little giggle.
“Four days from now. My place. I think it will be mid afternoon, but we should probably take the whole day.”
Helen’s joy at the prospect of a new wonder was, as always, enchanting. My fears that this would be a terrible day allayed, I managed to convince myself, at least for the time being, that everything was going to be fine.
And then I caught myself, and braced for the backlash.
tried to go home from the library. I say “tried,” because when I got to my apartment building, there was nothing there. Well, okay, not nothing per se, but rubble does not make for a particularly comfortable domicile. The quantity of brush overgrowth in the ruins indicated the building had been in this state for some time. It wasn’t even clear that it had been the same building. I picked through it for ten minutes before I gave up looking for anything identifiable.
I went to pull out my tablet, assuming that “home” would be programmed into the GPS, but it wasn’t in my jacket. Figuring I must have left it in my car, I returned to the street to find it gone. Not the first time I had lost a car to an unhappening, to be sure, but usually with the result of another in its place. I went up and down the block looking for a familiar plate, and attempted to signal the chime with my key card. Nothing spoke to me. I did still have a key card, which meant I must have a car, but it was not in range.
It was a long walk back to the lab. An hour later, cranky and exhausted, I entered a building that was familiar in only the broadest strokes. The construction project that had manifested in my last batch of unhappenings was either finished or irrelevant. The entire layout of the building had changed, as had the décor and the personnel. One familiar face did stand out, but not in a reassuring way.
“Graham?” said Andrea. She was sitting at an indoor picnic table that I had never seen before, eating a bagel from a café that had never been part of my workplace. “What are you doing here?”
I flopped down in the seat next to hers, vaguely hoping we were still friends.
“If I ask you something insane, can you promise me just to answer it on its face without questioning it?”
“I… guess so,” she said. “Are you okay? You look awful.”
I ignored the observation.
“Where am I supposed to be right now?”
Her eyes bugged, and she leaned very close to me.
“Graham,” she whispered, “are you traveling through time?”
I had no idea if this was an out, or a horrible risk, but I rolled with it.
“I asked you not to question it,” I said kindly, but sternly.
“Oh my God,” she said with a bit of a manic smile. “You lucky son of a bitch.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please answer the question.”
“Right.” She composed herself. “Sorry. These days you are working out of a lab in your home. It’s February 19th, 2146, if you’re curious.”
“2146?” I said with my best mock surprise. “Shit. Thanks.” I got up to go.
“Graham,” she said, “if you see yourself when you get home, tell you I said hello.” She was clearly holding back laughter. I politely snickered, and left.
did not return home, primarily because I still had no idea where that was. Helen still had another half hour to go before her work day ended, and I was closer than that by foot to the library.
“Oh my God,” she said when she saw me. I could only imagine what the kilometers and the cold had done to me by then. “Nigel, what happened?”
“How long have we known each other?” I asked.
“Oh… Stingrays. Come in. Sit. Tell me what’s going on.”
I crashed in one of her comfy chairs.
“When was the last time you saw me?”
Unlike Andrea, there was no hesitation or confusion in Helen’s voice. “A few hours ago.”
“What did we talk about?”
“That I broke it off with Carlton.” Much to her credit, she answered this question evenly and calmly.
“How much do you know about my situation?” I asked. “Please be specific.”
She came around her desk, pulled up another chair, and held my hand. The warmth of her fingers against my chapped skin was delicious.
“You are a time traveler from the year 2092. Your life keeps unhappening, although you believe I am somehow immune to whatever causes that. You work for a future version of yourself, on a time travel project whose goal he won’t tell you. You are friends with another time traveler from the future named Athena, and I am going to meet her very soon. And I love you.”
I took in a very deep breath, held it for five seconds, and slowly released it.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“What unhappened?” she asked softly.
“Everything but you,” I said. “My apartment is gone. I don’t work at the lab anymore.”
“You don’t live in an apartment,” she said. “You live in a house. And that’s where your lab is. You took me there to show me your work. We sent my tablet a minute into the future.”
“Can you take me there?” I pleaded.
“Of course,” she said, and kissed my forehead. As she stood to get her coat, she suddenly froze. “Did I do this?” she asked. “Is this because I kissed you?”
That clinched it. She really did know everything. I had shared with her my theory that the new unhappenings were being caused as a series of failed attempts to remove her from my life.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
She grabbed her coat, helped me up and took me home. It turned out I had a very nice house. Helen made me something to eat, then put me to bed and stayed the night in my guest room. As I drifted off, I grappled with the lie I had told her in her office, when she asked me if she had caused my unhappenings with her kiss. My last waking thought was a realization it wasn’t a lie after all. The timing was all wrong. She hadn’t caused it with the kiss. She had caused it by leaving Carlton.
he next three days gave me an opportunity to get to know my new surroundings. If the universe was trying to punish me, it was going about it all wrong. The private home was a major upgrade from my one bedroom apartment. My basement workroom was both more spacious and better equipped than what I was us
ed to at the lab. Apart from the day of misery I spent not knowing where I belonged, my life had greatly improved.
On the fourth day, Helen and I had our appointment with Athena. Helen stayed over the night before to be sure she wouldn’t miss Athena’s arrival, since all we knew was the date. Once again, she had slept in my spare bedroom, a luxury I greatly appreciated now, and never had in the apartment. The state of our relationship was still in flux at that point, especially in light of the recent spate of upheavals in my life.
We had breakfast and made small talk. Helen was visibly nervous, despite my assurances that this would go smoothly. We settled in to wait. Helen had brought work with her, and spread it out on my dining room table, the most notable effect of which was highlighting for me the fact that I now had a dining room. The morning passed. We had lunch. Helen returned to her project.
At just after three in the afternoon, there was a dull flash of light from my living room. I walked in to find Athena, exactly the same as I had left her a week ago.
“Hi there,” I said. We embraced. Helen poked her head around the door. The look of awe on her face was as usual quite priceless, but today carried an extra edge I couldn’t quite identify.
“Helen,” I said formally, “this is Athena.” The introduction was one-way. I knew Athena had already met a future version of Helen.
Helen crept slowly into the room, her eyes locked on Athena. The glee I was so used to seeing at a new discovery was curiously lacking from her demeanor. Athena began to shuffle nervously, and I suddenly wondered if she hadn’t been right to suggest this meeting not happen. Helen walked right up to her and stared her in the eyes, moving her head to stay with them as Athena tried awkwardly to look away. This was spinning into a situation I could not define, other than to know it was not ideal.
I was about to suggest that we all sit down when Helen asked, “What is your real name?”
I had never told Helen that Athena was just the latest in a string of aliases, so this caught me off guard. Athena’s extremely hesitant response, more so.
