Time Tsunami

by Danele J Rotharmel

  As Dr. Ableman slowly rolled to his feet, Chief Rogers pointed at him and asked, “Who’s he?”

  Sam tore his gaze away from Rick and blinked. “You know, I’m beginning to wonder that myself.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Coming out of row XLIX, Marc watched as Crystal swung a heavy box onto her hip. Before he could talk himself out of it, he walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. Crystal gave a surprised squeak and jumped to one side.

  “Whoa,” Marc said with a crooked grin, “it’s just me.”

  Glaring up at him, Crystal blew a stray curl out of her face. “What do you want?”

  Marc shifted his weight onto his heels and stared at her. What did he want? He paused and thought. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure.

  “Well?” she said impatiently. “I haven’t got all day.”

  Marc reached for her box. “Here, let me help you with that.”

  Jerking away, Crystal said in a scathing voice, “I can do my own work.”

  “I know. I just wanted to be helpful. That box looks pretty heavy.”

  “If you want to help, stop bothering me and get back to work. We’ll have this job finished by tonight if you do your fair share.”

  Marc bit his lip and looked at her. There wasn’t anything appealing about her attitude and there certainly wasn’t anything alluring about her looks, so why couldn’t he get her out of his thoughts? She was like an itch that desperately needed to be scratched. He peered at her messy bun and baggy shirt. What is it about her that—

  “I know you think I’m weird,” she grumbled, “but you don’t have to stare.”

  “I’m not staring.”

  “Stare.” Crystal said in robotic voice. “Intransitive verb. Per definitionem—De Facto. Old English—starian. Old Norse—stara. Middle Low German—staren. To look directly at somebody or something for a long period time without moving the eyes away, usually as a result of curiosity or surprise, or to express rudeness or defiance.” She glared at him. “According to definition, you’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes. Cut it out.”

  Marc blinked and began to laugh.

  Crystal’s face froze and went completely white. As she tried to step around him, he blocked her path. Looking at her pale face, he cracked his knuckles nervously. She was peering over his shoulder with pursed lips and a steady gaze. It felt as if she’d taken her soul and tucked it far away. Although she was standing next to him, she was untouchable. Unreachable. Unattainable. He didn’t know why that should bother him, but it did. It bothered him a lot. A whole lot to tell the truth.

  “I’m sorry we keep getting off on the wrong foot,” he finally said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you the other day, and I know it.”

  “Fine,” she said briefly. “Now get out of my way.”

  Marc laid a hand on her shoulder. “Honest. I’d like to apologize.”

  She shook off his hand. “You already have. Now move.”

  “Cris—”

  Crystal dropped the box on the floor—narrowly missing his foot—and put her hands on her hips. “Look, I know exactly what you think of me, and I’m glad I do. We’ll get along better if we keep out of each other’s way.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible. If we’re put on staff, we’ll be working together.”

  “Co-workers don’t have to be close.” She pushed at her glasses. “I’m prepared to do my job well, but I’m not prepared to get chummy with someone like you.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Exactly what you think!” Crystal gave an impatient huff. “You really think you’re something special, don’t you? You think you’re God’s perfect gift to women. You think every female is obligated to faint if you smile. You big jerk, the only reason you want to talk to me is because I don’t want to talk to you. You need to get over yourself. You’re not nearly as handsome and fascinating as you seem to believe. It really peeves you that I’m immune to your so-called charm, doesn’t it?”

  An angry blush flooded Marc’s face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Really? Then why did you tell me to stay away and then turn right around and try to be friendly? What am I? A dog you think you can bring to heel?”

  “Of course not!” He hunched a shoulder. “I just realized I was out of line, okay? I’m not perfect—far from it. I’m just trying to apologize.”

  “Fine. You’ve done your duty. Consider yourself absolved. Now move.”

  As she tried to push past him, he grabbed her arm. “I’m not going anywhere until I know things are square between us.”

  “What do you want?” she asked, shaking off his hand. “A written declaration of forgiveness?”

  “No, just a friendly smile.”

  Crystal rolled her eyes and bared her teeth in a toothy grin. “Are you satisfied?”

  He shook his head. “Why don’t we sit down and talk awhile?”

  “About what?”

  “Anything you like,” he replied. “You can lecture me about the history of paper and Egyptian mummification if you want.”

  “If you have a burning desire to learn about mummification go look it up. The campus library has a whole section on ancient Egypt.”

  “If you don’t want to talk about that, we can discuss something else—pick a topic.”

  “How about the underlying symptoms of Narcissistic Personality Disorder?” As Marc’s mouth fell open in disbelief, Crystal started counting off on her fingers. “Believing you’re better than everyone else, expecting constant praise or admiration, failing to recognize other people’s feelings, expressing disdain for those you feel are inferior—”

  Marc cut her off. “If you want to talk about psychological problems, why don’t we talk about inferiority complexes and passive-aggressive behavior?”

  With an angry snort, Crystal tried to brush past him, but he wouldn’t let her. Falling back a step, she hissed, “Keep your hands to yourself and let me by!”

  “Look, I just want to be friends.”

  “Why?”

  He looked at her pale face and gave a tense smile. “I’d like to get to know you, that’s why. You’d probably like me if you gave me a shot.”

  Crystal glared at him. “Get used to disappointment. I’ll work with you, but this is as friendly as we’re gonna get.”

  Marc put his hand on her shoulder and felt her shiver as she jerked away. “Cris, I—”

  “Unless it’s about work, I don’t want to hear it. Is it?”

  Marc shook his head.

  “In that case, I’m taking a break. You can file that box. It weighs a ton.”

  As Crystal disappeared through the archive door, Marc leaned up against a shelf and tried to catch his breath. He didn’t know why her rejection hurt so much, but he felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. Ryan was right—once Crystal made up her mind, she stuck with it. She wasn’t just stubborn, she was an opinionated mule.

  Marc’s eyes hardened. Trying to be friendly with Crystal was a complete waste of time. He didn’t know why he was bothering. It wasn’t like he’d be thrilled to be seen in public with the frumpy campus klutz on his arm.

  * * *

  Poppa’s estate was swarming with police. As Nathan left for Westfield to pick up Zara and his grandfather, the coroner came and removed Rick’s body. Afternoon had turned into early evening by the time the police had left the house.

  In the living room, Gil watched as Twinkles bustled around, setting plates of brownies and cookies on the coffee table. As everyone began reaching for the goodies, Twinkles said soothingly, “That’s right, dears. Nothing like a spot of sugar to calm fraying nerves.”

  “I thought sugar made a person hyper.” Poppa chuckled.

  “Maybe so, but it’s also soothing. Shush now and pass the brownies to Gil. She looks like she needs another.”

  Deciding that the worry she’d undergone had burned up a gazillion calories, Gil plopped down on the sofa and defiantly to
ok her fifth brownie. Seeing Dan’s raised eyebrows, she grumbled, “I love you, but don’t get between me and my sugar. After the afternoon I’ve had, I need chocolate—and the more the better!”

  As Dan laughed and passed her another brownie, Sam said with a puzzled frown, “Doc, now that the police are gone, can you clear something up?”

  “Sure,” Dan said absently, placing a gooey chocolate chip cookie on each of Gil’s knees and kissing a spot of chocolate off her chin.

  “In the barn, why couldn’t I see you at first?”

  “That’s simple,” Dan replied, unclipping a box from his belt and handing it to Poppa. “I was using one of the Wonderful Wizard’s inventions. A Scan Emitter eliminates the need for brain scans and allows a time surfer to appear or disappear at will.”

  “That would’ve helped Gil a lot.” Danny chortled. “She was always sitting on shelves and breaking them, or almost getting sat on, or eating when she shouldn’t, or—”

  Leaning forward, Gil gave Danny’s shoulder a playfully slap. “Watch it, squirt!” Turning to Poppa, she asked, “Does the Scan Emitter let surfers eat real food without freaking people out?” As he nodded, Gil rolled her eyes in exaggerated ecstasy. “No more kitty-litter bars! That suits me fine—sign me up.”

  “Not quite yet, dear,” Twinkles said. “The Scan Emitter won’t be ready for four more years in your time, but I do sympathize about the energy bars.” She wrinkled her nose. “Horrible things! I’ve always said they were the blight of a time surfer’s life.”

  “Did the doc have a Scan Emitter when he jumped through the TV?” Danny asked. “Is that why we could see him?”

  “I didn’t have the Scan Emitter until Twinkles lent it to me this afternoon,” Dan replied. “On D-day, all Poppa gave me was information on how to avoid Rick and stabilize Gil.”

  Danny looked puzzled. “But how could we see you then? When Gil came, my brain was scanned. I felt the beams inside my head.”

  Dan smiled. “GAP didn’t need to scan your brain. You were predisposed to see me because you’d seen me before in your mirror.”

  “Whatcha mean? You got my mirror wired up like my PlayFest console?”

  Dan’s smile grew. “I mean, you’d seen me before by looking at yourself in the mirror. Where does your mom always kiss you?”

  “On my little freckle.”

  Turning his head, Dan showed the boy his heart-shaped freckle.

  “No way!” Danny shouted. “You’re me? That means Gil’s gonna be my girlfriend!”

  Laughing, Dan said to Gil, “See how he focuses on the important things in life?”

  Sue put out at hesitant hand and touched Dan’s freckle. “You’re my son?”

  As Dan nodded and hugged his mother tightly, Sam gave a bellow of laughter. “If you’re Danny, I did teach you martial arts.”

  “You did indeed,” Dan replied. “You were a great dad and a terrific teacher.”

  Danny’s eyes grew wide. “I beat up Rick when I get old? Cool!”

  As Danny sat back with a satisfied grin, Sam turned to Twinkles. “If you gave Dan the Scan Emitter today, does that mean you knew Rick was coming?”

  Twinkles nodded. “I knew to the exact second. You can’t hide much from time travelers when they come from our year.”

  With an angry sputter, Sue jumped to her feet.

  “Why, Sue,” Twinkles said, shrinking back in her chair. “Whatever’s the matter?”

  “How can you ask?” Sue spat. “You knew Rick was coming, and you sent Sam to the barn anyway. How could you?”

  Rising quickly, Poppa stood protectively in front of his wife. “Twinkles only did what I told her. If you want to get angry, get angry at me. But really, there’s no need. We sent Dan to help Sam and we called the police. Sam wasn’t in danger—at least not much danger.”

  “Yes, dear,” soothed Twinkles, peeping out from behind her husband’s back. “GAP predicted a sixty-two percent chance that Sam and Dan wouldn’t suffer significant harm.”

  Gil sprang to her feet. “Sixty-two percent! Only sixty-two percent? You sent Dan out there with those wretched odds and made me sit in the kitchen with a plate of brownies and fudge sauce?”

  Poppa laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Just the other day, your odds of success were only fifty percent. Our odds today were much better.”

  “I don’t care!” Gil exclaimed. “Those odds stink!” Her face went white. “When I think about what might’ve happened—”

  “But it didn’t happen,” Poppa interrupted gently. “Although sending the boys to the barn seems reckless, it was the one scenario in which everyone walked away unharmed and Rick was stopped for good. And that monster needed to be stopped.”

  Gil paused, thinking about the lives Rick had destroyed. She looked over at Sue. Together the women sank back down on the sofa.

  Putting his arm around Sue, Sam said to Twinkles, “I appreciated the concordance, but I’m afraid you’ll have trouble using it again.”

  “Don’t worry, dear, I bought it to protect you.”

  As Gil watched Poppa putting the Scan Emitter into his pocket, she asked, “Is the Scan Emitter similar to the technology tested on the files Director Matthews gave me?”

  “Similar,” Poppa replied, “but far more advanced. The invention to which you’re referring was just an early prototype.” He smiled. “And I wasn’t the one who tested it.”

  “But aren’t you the Wonderful Wizard?”

  “Of course I am, forty-five years into your future, but I’m not the Wonderful Wizard who tested the prototype on D-day. That was my younger-self.”

  “Who’s your younger-self?” Gil asked with a furrowed brow. “I know it’s not Dr. Moosly. He’s bald as an egg, and you have a good head of hair.”

  Twinkles chuckled. “You know the Wizard, dear. This is just another whimsical time surprise.”

  Leaning toward Gil, Poppa said, “Kiss my little freckle, will you?”

  Twinkles gave Poppa’s shoulder a swat. “Oh, no, you don’t! No other woman can kiss your freckle—even if she is me!”

  Gil’s eyes widened. “I’m Twinkles?” Looking over her shoulder at Dan, she sputtered, “Why didn’t you tell me you were Poppa?”

  “Don’t worry, dear,” Twinkles laughed, “you’ll get even with him, and you’ll have a marvelous time doing it.” She looked archly at Poppa. “If I remember right, Dan gets quite a bit of enjoyment out of the process too.”

  Sue turned to Twinkles. “Your Poppa is my Danny? My Danny wrote those love poems?”

  As Twinkles nodded and looked smug, Poppa looked absolutely horrified. “You showed my love poems to my mother?”

  “Just a nice one about my eyes. I didn’t let her read the very warm ones, dear. I wouldn’t let a young girl like Sue read those.”

  As Poppa’s ears turned bright red and laughter broke out all around, Gil slapped Dan lightly on the chest. “What’s up with you, you lazy slug? Poppa’s a poet. When are you gonna start writing me sonnets about my eyes?”

  Dan chuckled. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll start tonight.” Leaning toward her, he stared at her lips and whispered, “I’m feeling quite inspired.”

  As Dan drew Gil close and kissed her, she saw Danny watching them with a satisfied smirk. When the kiss ended, Danny asked through a mouthful of crumbs, “Am I really gonna invent time travel and run TEMCO?”

  Kissing the top of Gil’s head, Dan looked at his younger-self and nodded. “You sure will, and Slim’s going to be your second-in-command.”

  “No way! Did I see him when we made contact with the lab?”

  Dan grinned. “You sure did—he’s Director Peter Matthews.”

  “Are you serious? Slim’s gonna flip when I tell him!”

  “He will indeed.” Dan laughed. “He’s your best friend, and his knowledge of physics, and Laura Nelson’s expertise in quantum mechanics, will be a great help to you down through the years.”

  As Danny turned to his m
other and started talking excitedly, Gil asked Dan, “Why didn’t you let anyone know you were the head of TEMCO?”

  “Death Row Daniel and the tangled timeline,” he replied. “TEMCO needs grants to keep running, and giving money to an inventor who could vanish from time isn’t a wise investment. Peter and Laura thought I needed to keep my identity a secret, and I agreed.”

  “But how could you put up with Dr. Moosly’s condescension? He despises you.”

  “I just found him amusing. On a weekly basis, he submits a letter to the ‘head of TEMCO’ demanding I be fired. He’s a scientific asset in his own ponderous way, but I’ll enjoy seeing his face when I tell him he’s been campaigning to fire his own boss.”

  “I wanna be in the room when you do,” Gil said, reaching for a cookie. “His pompous comments about you have been driving me wild.”

  “Feeling protective of me?” Dan asked, nuzzling her head with his chin.

  “Very!” she replied. Turning to Poppa, she said, “That reminds me, do you know why I was sent to protect little Danny in the first place? Do you know what triggered the Time Tsunami?”

  Poppa nodded. “Years ago, I discovered a random piece of code in GAP’s memory core. When analyzed, it revealed that the Time Tsunami was caused by the foolish arrogance of one person—the first original Dr. Daniel Winston.”

  Dan blinked rapidly and choked on his brownie. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Quite sure. The first Daniel invented time travel just like you did, but it took him longer because he didn’t have Peter to help him—you and Slim became friends during Gil’s time surf. After establishing TEMCO, Daniel wanted a spectacular test case to take in front of the Grant Review Board to justify an expansion of the program, and that’s where the trouble began.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Dan asked.

  “The kind of trouble that gets people killed.” Poppa leaned forward and put his hands on his knees. “The first Daniel’s time surfers took on small cases—nothing too daring. But he was desperate to make a big splash for the review board, so he went to death row and picked out a likely candidate for time counseling. He was convinced that transforming the felon would get him the grant money he desired.”