“And we’d be in a basement lab somewhere being dissected instead of sitting here chatting.”
“True. So, what are you worried about?”
She frowned at him. “Doesn’t it bother you that we might not be ourselves any more? I don’t just mean our bodies. What about our minds? What if they gave us back more than we started with?”
“Pardon?”
She leaned forwards across the table. “What if we suddenly get on a train and go see Dr Brandt, tell him everything he needs to know to start building post-humans?”
Jay’s mouth opened and stayed open as he searched for an argument. “We don’t have the data button. We gave it to the resistance guys, remember?”
Sandra dismissed the objection. “That could have been a decoy. Perhaps the data is written into our brains, ready to be triggered someday. Jay, we might be like living time bombs primed to destroy humanity’s future.”
Jay reached out and took her hand. “You’re going to drive yourself nuts thinking things like that.” The robot arrived with their meal but Jay held onto her hand and sent it away. “I’m pretty sure Raines was as surprised as we were when Shah and co. jumped us. There’s no way he engineered all that. If you remember, we were all set to help them out until the humans turned up. He had no reason to stage such an elaborate con. Cara was his play, not Shah, and, as far as he knew, it had worked. We were his stooges. So please, please, don’t worry about that.”
The concern in his eyes was painful to see. At the same time, he had managed to say just what she needed to hear. She felt a sob in her chest and then another. All at once she was crying, her head down and tears dripping onto the white tablecloth.
“Excuse me, sir,” the waitbot said, holding up the plates, hopefully. Jay told it to go away. He held both her hands in his now.
“Sandra?” he asked, gently.
It was a little while before she could look up at him. She pulled a hand free and wiped her eyes.
“I don’t know how much more I can take, Jay. Sometimes it feels like I’ve built a massive dyke against the sea but it’s cracked and crumbling and the next storm might just smash it all to pieces.” He kept looking at her with the same concern, trying to understand. She turned her head away in frustration. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Jay. I didn’t want it. Time travel and psychopaths, and revolutions, and Chinese spies, and people copying my brain into computers, it’s just … more than anyone should be asked to cope with. And now …” She stopped herself, not sure whether she should say more.
“And now I’ve gone and asked you to marry me?”
It wasn’t what she was going to say but he had a point. It was another stress she could do without. Then, to her horror, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “Well, my oxytocin levels are all my own today and my feelings haven’t changed at all.” He stood up and moved to stand beside her. “I’ve had enough too,” he said. “Blame it on the fact that I’ve been shot at once too often, scared out of my wits once too often, or that I’ve nearly lost you once too often, but I’ve decided the only way I’ll ever be happy for the rest of my life is if you’re right there at my side. Always.
“You’re probably thinking my brain is scrambled from transcription errors or something, but, I tell you, this is the one and only thing in the whole Universe—in any Universe—that makes any sense to me any more.” He went down on one knee beside her and, even though she’d seen it coming, Sandra still caught her breath. Jay opened his little box and held it out so she could see the diamond ring inside. “Sandra Malone, will you marry me?”
Her heart was pounding. She looked down into his brave, expectant face and her head swam. The sheer weight of what was riding on her answer made her tremble under it. “Has Crystal spoken to you yet?” she asked in a voice weak with dread. She saw a frown cross his brow.
“She gave me the sack, if that’s what you mean.”
“And what else?”
The frown deepened. He looked around the restaurant. “I can’t talk about that here.”
She stood up. “Then let’s go outside.”
***
They walked up the street a little farther and then Jay took them down a side street and into a small park. It was some kind of memorial garden, Sandra realized. A bronze statue of a man in a frock coat and large sideburns presided over a couple of wooden benches, a few rose beds and a very neat lawn. They sat together on a bench and a handful of hopeful pigeons gathered on the lawn nearby.
“I met Fourget this morning,” Sandra said. “What’s he like?”
Jay shrugged. “Brave. Loyal. Doesn’t talk much. I dunno. Solid, I suppose. You went to the hospital?”
“Cara took me to see him. She’s got a major crush on him. I’ve never seen her so besotted.”
Jay became prickly, pulled in his chin and looked stern. “He’s far too old for her.”
“That’s what I told her. She said ten years is nothing these days and, besides, all the boys her own age are milksops.”
“What? She actually said ‘milksops’?”
“She has a way with words.”
“I should have a word with Fourget.”
“You’re not his boss any more.”
“Is he encouraging this … infatuation?”
“Mostly he’s just lying there looking confused.”
Jay went into a sullen silence. Sandra watched his display of protective paternalism with mild amusement. Personally, she was sure the young lieutenant would come off worse if he ever was bold enough to take Cara on.
“How’s he doing?” Jay asked after a moment’s brooding.
“It’ll be a while but they think he’ll make a full recovery.”
“He’s a good man. He saved my life. Tried to help me save yours. Look, what’s all this about Crystal? How do you know she said anything to me?”
Sandra took a deep breath. All right. Here we go.
“She called me this morning.”
“Called you?”
“Please don’t do that?”
“Do what?”
“Repeat everything I say.”
“Repeat everything y—?” He almost visibly clamped his jaw shut.
“Now tell me what Crystal said—after she sacked you.”
Again, he looked around. “She wants me to go to Philadelphia, to join the new European Union Embassy there.”
While Jay and Sandra had been in the future, government forces in America had finally surrendered to the Revolutionary Army after the decisive Battle of Atlanta. The Republic had been restored and the old Constitution reaffirmed. The new government had established itself in Philadelphia and countries around the world had rushed to recognize it. The world’s economy had bounced into optimistic territory in anticipation of the renewal of a vibrant and dynamic new market and corporations from all over Europe, China, South America and India were rushing into the vacuum left by the fallen theocracy. Embassies were planned to help coordinate all this diplomatic and economic activity. And more besides.
“She wants me to establish a spy network—help out European corporations, keep an eye on what the Chinese are doing, help reduce the influence of the South American Alliance, that kind of thing.” He was watching Sandra carefully. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? Crystal already told you.”
“She wants me to go over there with you. She seems to think we make a good team.”
Jay was clearly unhappy. “Why didn’t she tell me?” He gave it a moment’s more thought and asked, “Did you agree to go?”
She tried to keep her expression neutral. “You first. What did you tell her?” Again, her heart was thumping as she waited for his answer.
He hesitated, perhaps realizing how much hung on his next words. He chewed his lower lip but took a long breath and steadied himself. “I told her I’ve finished with spying. I told her I’ve finished with time travel too, and getting shot at, and dying for the cause.” He looked Sandra in the eye. “I polite
ly told her to take her job offer and stuff it. I told her I’m getting married and my new wife didn’t like all that crap either.” He studied her reaction intently. “And you? What did you say?”
Sandra felt as if she were inflating, she felt her smile grow as if it were painted on an expanding balloon. “Me too,” she said. “Oh, God, me too!”
They surged to their feet and into each other’s arms. They kissed for the first time in nineteen years. It was a joining too long delayed by fear and anger but now it didn’t matter. Sandra floated on air. The world melted and whirled around her. She was adrift on wild, powerful currents, and that didn’t matter either because Jay was holding her and he was a rock, rooted deep in the earth. He always had been. He always would be.
The kiss ran its course and came to a lingering end. Jay stepped back from her, his eyes wide and glistening, his hands on her shoulders. Then he took another step back and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the box with the ring once more and again went down on one knee.
“Will you stop doing that?” she said. “Of course I’ll marry you.”
***
Jay didn’t go back to the office. He took Sandra to his apartment and they made love for the rest of the day. They grabbed snacks, ate junk food, drank the couple of bottles of wine Jay had in his fridge, and, in the evening, ordered pizza. At about seven, they pulled on some clothes and phoned Jay’s mother and Cara. In a four-way hook-up he and Sandra broke the good news. Thirty seconds into the call, everybody was smiling and crying, especially Dot, who said, “I wish your father was alive to see this day. I think he’d decided you were gay.” Cara wanted to know if “Pierre” would be his best man.
“Not the Frenchman I had in mind,” he said, thinking of Jacques Bauchet and another call he needed to make.
When Jay broke the news that he’d been sacked, the mood turned to concern. Neither his mother nor Cara could understand how he and Sandra could be so blasé about having no income.
“I’ve got a fair bit put by,” Jay said. “They’ve been grossly overpaying me for nearly two decades now.”
Sandra grabbed him and kissed him and said, “Besides, we’re in love. All we need is a bed and a supply of pizza.”
Cara screwed up her face in disgust. “Mum! Stop being gross!”
Sandra laughed. “Sorry, darling. Do you really want to be maid of honor?”
“I don’t know. It all seems a bit Medieval, don’t you think?”
Afterwards, Jay and Sandra lay in each other’s arms. A gusty wind blew rain against the bedroom window. The crack in the living room wall had not been fixed yet and the house was cooler than it should have been. Jay closed his eyes and thanked the gods that this day had come about.
Sandra was doodling figures on his chest. “So, what are we going to do for a living, Beanpole?”
“Well, my little strumpet, it may surprise you to know that I have given that some thought.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder so she could see his face. He wriggled onto his side to make it easier for her.
“I think we should go to America.”
“What? But you said—”
“Not to the Embassy. To California. It’s beautiful there.” He glanced at the window. “And warm. Just think. A whole nation rebuilding itself almost from scratch. Talk about a land of opportunity! You saw what it was like. After two-and-a-half years of civil war, they must need everything, utilities, transport, houses, schools, law and order. We could be part of something tremendous, something really worth doing.”
She grinned at him. “Jay Kennedy, Nation Builder.”
He grinned back. “Cara could finish her studies over there. Her courses are all on the net anyway: it doesn’t matter where she is. Don’t you think she’d love it out there? Don’t you think it would be good for her?”
With mock seriousness, Sandra asked, “Can she bring Fourget?”
“No reason why not. He’s out of a job too for his little part in my heroic rescue mission.”
“No.” Sandra seemed quite shocked.
He raised an eyebrow. When had doing the right thing ever met with congratulations and a pay-rise in his world? Sandra made an acknowledging moue. She fell silent for a long time.
“So,” she said at last, looking at him with happy eyes. “America it is. Let’s go and be pioneers in the wild and woolly West.”
“In our wild and woolly vests!” he cried. Too happy not to be silly.
She put a hand on his chest and pushed him onto his back, looking serious. “After the wedding.”
“Of course.” He didn’t mention the false identities he’d been building for them ever since Washington. After the wedding, they could visit a woman he knew in Amsterdam and have their commplants reprogrammed. After that, a New World awaited them.
“I love you, Sandra,” he said, something else that had remained undone for nearly twenty years.
“Prove it,” she said and climbed on top of him.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Joel Naoum and the team at Momentum for their skills and professionalism in bringing this book to market. Joel’s continuing enthusiasm for this series is especially appreciated. Special thanks go to my editors, Tara Goedjen and Kate O’Donnell, without whom this book would have been full of embarrassing mistakes. Of course, any embarrassing mistakes that remain, despite Tara’s and Kate’s efforts to rein me in, are all my own work. I’d also like to thank the people who read and made comments on earlier drafts of this book. You know who you are and how how much I need you guys. Timesplash 1 was intended as a one-off novel but a number of people, including a lot of readers, have pushed me to keep this series going. I’m very glad they did and I hope they'll all be happy with this latest addition.
About Graham Storrs
Graham Storrs lives in rural Australia with his wife, Christine, and an Airedale terrier called Bertie. He has published three children's science books and scores of articles and academic papers (in the fields of psychology, artificial intelligence, and human-computer interaction). He recently turned his attention to science fiction and has since published over 20 short stories in magazines and anthologies. Timesplash, Graham's debut novel, was published by Momentum in June 2013. Truth Path: Timesplash 2 was released in July 2013.
Also by Graham Storrs
Timesplash: Book 1 in the Timesplash series
It started out as something underground, edgy and cool. Then Sniper took it all too far and timesplashing became the ultimate terrorist weapon.
Scarred by their experiences in the time traveling party scene, Jay and Sandra are thrown together in what becomes the biggest manhunt in history: the search for Sniper, Sandra’s ex-boyfriend and a would-be mass murderer.
Set in the near future, Timesplash is a fast-paced action thriller. Filled with great characters, a sprinkling of romance, and a new and intriguing take on time travel, Timesplash is ultimately a very human tale about finding bravery through fear, and never giving up.
Highly recommended for science fiction and thriller enthusiasts alike.
Timesplash is the first book in the Timesplash series. True Path: Timesplash 2 follows.
For more information, please visit momentumbooks.com.au/books/timesplash/
True Path: Book 2 in the Timesplash series
The most wanted man in America is about to destroy the entire nation… or save it.
It’s 2066 and Sandra has kept a low profile for 16 years, working as a tech in a quiet British university, hoping her past would never catch up with her. But it has.
When Jay hears Sandra has been kidnapped, he drops everything and goes to the U.S. to find her. But Sandra’s kidnapper is not an ordinary criminal. He’s America’s most-wanted terrorist – a man driven to to free his country from religious oppression at any cost. Sandra, still suffering from the fallout of earlier timesplashes, refuses to help create the biggest timesplash ever, which would unleash a wave of destruction that the rebels hope wi
ll kickstart a new American revolution.
When Cara, Sandra’s teenage daughter, is taken by one of the many factions on the ground in Washington D.C., Sandra’s resolve is shaken, and Jay is forced into a race against time to stop the deaths of millions or save Sandra and her daughter.
Sandra and Jay must ultimately decide between what is right for them and what is right for all in this thrilling continuation of the Timesplash series.
SHORTLISTED FOR BEST SCIENCE FICTION NOVEL AT THE 2014 AUREALIS AWARDS.
For more information, please visit momentumbooks.com.au/books/true-path-timesplash-2/
First published by Momentum in 2014
This edition published in 2014 by Momentum
Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Ltd
1 Market Street, Sydney 2000
Copyright © Graham Storrs 2014
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organizations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.
A CIP record for this book is available at the National Library of Australia
Foresight: Timesplash 3
EPUB format: 9781760082048
Mobi format: 9781760082055
Cover design by Jon MacDonald
Foresight: Timesplash 3 Page 31
