by Vivien Dean
"He's not coming."
She spun around, but all she saw were the streams of commuters coming up the hall.
Then suddenly the man with the newspaper appeared in front of her. Very literally. One moment the corridor was empty, and the next he stood there, his dark look unchanged. “Get on with your life, Miss Whitehall,” he insisted. “Mr. Sutcliffe won't be back."
"Why not? Where is he? Is he all right?” In her urgency, she didn't question him knowing her.
"None of that is your business.” He rolled up his newspaper and jammed it under his arm. “You've caused him enough trouble. Suffice it to say he's back where he belongs. Forget about him, Miss Whitehall. Move on. He won't be back."
With one last dark look, he turned towards the wall and disappeared again.
"Wait!” She rushed after him.
When her foot hit the spot where he had stood an instant before, the world suddenly became thick and slow, fighting her attempts to move forward. She heard again that odd whoosh she had first heard while making love with Trev and the soft echo of voices.
Something wasn't right.
The realization made Dani back up several steps, pulling free of the lethargy that had enfolded her.
It hadn't been in her mind. She had felt something. Reaching out, she tentatively pawed at the air until she met with resistance. The air thickened into an amorphous blob that she couldn't quite find the dimensions of as she felt her way around it. It ended abruptly, like a piece of fog cut off by a knife. It was still there, just ended suddenly, so that the side facing the concourse was a flat plane as opposed to the undulations of the other side.
This had to be what Trev was guarding, she realized. But why? What was it and why was it here? And more importantly, why wasn't Trev?
But the other man didn't come back, leaving Dani no choice but to go in to work with a thousand questions swimming in her head.
* * * *
"You can't keep pining over him, Dani,” Holly admonished after the bartender set their drinks in front of them.
"I'm not pining.” Using the speared olive, Dani stirred her martini aimlessly without tasting it.
"It's been three weeks, Dani. You haven't gone out, you haven't done much of anything except work."
"So things are back to normal."
"It's not a joke. Don't think I can't tell when you've been avoiding me."
"I haven't—"
"Three weeks, Dani,” Holly cut her off, “and this is the first time you've agreed to meet me for anything, let alone talk on the phone."
"Maybe it's because I didn't want to get the third degree.” She picked up the glass and swallowed half of it without flinching.
"What happened?"
"Like that one.” Picking up a pretzel rod from the basket on the bar, Dani began breaking it into tiny pieces. “I don't know what happened. We were going to meet for coffee and he never showed."
"Did you call him?"
"How? I don't have his phone number."
"What about going over to his place?"
"I don't know where he lives."
"That's new. You don't usually take guys home."
"I didn't."
Holly was obviously perplexed. “But I thought you said you two..."
"We did.” Dani was in no mood to help her.
"Well, if you didn't take him home, and you didn't go to his place, where on earth did you do it?"
"In the station."
It was worth revealing the intimacy just to see the look on Holly's face, part dumbstruck, part sheer awe. “You had sex. With a complete stranger. In the middle of Grand Central Station? Holy shit, Dani. I wanted you to loosen up a little, not go crazy!"
"Well, thank you for that, Holly, I really appreciate the support.” She slammed back the rest of her drink and stood up, slinging her purse and laptop bag over her shoulder. “I'll see you later."
"Dani, don't. I didn't mean—” The rest of Holly's pleas was lost in the bar noise before the door shut behind Dani, silencing all of it in favor of the quiet din of the city at night. She cut across the street quickly and headed to the station, anxious to get away before Holly followed her.
She couldn't blame her friend. She was right. Dani had filled up her whole life with school, then with work. She didn't date much, didn't even go out socially all that often unless it was work related. Then Trev crashed into her life, and suddenly she was throwing all caution to the wind. She'd gotten burned, and she deserved it. She wouldn't make that mistake again.
It was early yet, but the main concourse was quieting down from the hectic race of rush hour. Dani stopped across the street for buy-by-the-pound salad and Chinese food to take home for dinner, then made her way through the station headed for her train.
"Dani."
She whirled at the sound of Trev's familiar voice behind her. He stood right where he always did, black silk and leather dressing his lean length, complete with a long black duster that just begged for a cowboy hat. His face was tight, defensive, but that warm light still lingered in his eyes. “God, you look good."
"Where have you been? I was so worried, and then that man—"
She wasn't even aware she had moved closer until he reached out and took her arms, drawing her into his embrace. “I'm so sorry. I wanted to come, but they wouldn't let me."
The thickened bubble enfolded her as closely as his arms, but she felt safe in his embrace and didn't resist. “They? They who?"
"I can't tell you.” When she stiffened, he kissed her temple. “Shh. You wouldn't believe me if I did. But I can show you. If you trust me."
There was something ominous in his tone that told her this was more than just sneaking into his office in the middle of the night. But the warmth seeping into her skin through his silk shirt comforted her. “Yes, I trust you."
"Then come on."
And he stepped backwards, taking her with him.
The thickness around her resisted, pulled, and finally tore away, making her stumble into Trev, who steadied her. “Easy, now. You'll be a bit lightheaded for a minute. I know I was the first time I came through."
It took her a moment to register the changes around her. There was no one rushing about. Instead the evening commuters meandered in quiet conversation. Everything seemed cleaner, quieter, the lights dimmed to an ambient glow. There was no rumble beneath her feet. Even the schedule board was gone, replaced by names and numbers suspended in midair. “What is this place?"
"What's the matter, you don't recognize Grand Central? You've been through it every day for years."
Dani looked around wildly, seeing everything familiar but so startlingly different. “This isn't Grand Central. It's too quiet."
"That's the mag lev trains. They're almost silent except when the magnets drop starting and stopping. Welcome to the future, Dani Whitehall."
Startled, she looked up, but he just smiled. “The future?"
"2237, to be precise. Come on, we can't stay here.” Taking the duster off, he draped it over her shoulders before taking the bag of food from her. “I know you've got a lot of questions. But this isn't the place to answer them."
"Where are we going?” She let him guide her, his arm around her waist, maintaining their closeness.
"Back to my place. We'll be safe there for a little while."
"Safe?"
He gave her a quick squeeze as he led her past the ticket booths. “No one's going to hurt you, Dani. But I shouldn't have brought you here. People are going to come looking for you soon."
"If you weren't supposed to bring me here, then why did you?"
This time he stopped, looking down into her eyes with an intensity that left her breathless. “Because I missed you."
The brush of his lips over hers was brief but reassuring, promising more later. His eyes glinting, he took her hand and led her out. “Come see my city."
They stepped out into an enormous glass tube, with sliding sidewalks leading to and away from the st
ation. There were only a few dozen people out—normal, everyday looking people, some talking quietly with that same cant of the head that was familiar to her from the earpiece cellphone users she knew, only without any actual device being visible. It all looked so normal, if she overlooked the fact that she was sliding down Fifth Avenue on a covered walkway.
"Look up,” Trev murmured against her ear.
She did. It took a moment to adjust to the darkness outside, but slowly the stars in the sky above resolved themselves into hundreds and hundreds of lights, small windows on enormous buildings rising up to disappear into the night. “My God,” she breathed. “How big are they?"
"Most of them are over three hundred stories,” he answered quietly, his eyes following hers skyward. “Each one is thirty acres at the base and houses a hundred and fifty thousand people."
"How many are there?"
"On Manhattan, there are fifty-seven. There are about three times that if you go out into the boroughs and New Jersey."
"My God."
"You okay?"
"I'm just ... My God, Trev, this is amazing."
He grinned. “You're saying that a lot. I didn't know you were that religious."
"Well, what do you expect me to say?"
He pulled her closer again, the walkway still carrying them on to their destination. “I was hoping you might say you missed me, too."
"Do you really think now is the time?"
"Sweetheart, it's the only time we have."
She rested her head on his chest, ignoring the sense of melancholy from his words in the comfort of his heartbeat. The sidewalk slid on, carrying them through an enormous atrium, soft amber light illuminating dozens of other walkways crisscrossing in an elegant web. Trev stepped them onto one, and then onto another that led out into another tube and off into the night. “What happened to the rest of the city?” she asked, trying to peer out into the darkness.
"It's still there,” he assured her. “Most of it, what wasn't torn down to make room for the arcologies, was just left. A lot of it has collapsed and been grown over, but there are parts where people still live. A few people resisted moving into the towers, so now they live a more primitive life out in the city wilds."
"Homeless?"
"No one is homeless anymore. Everyone is given a place to live and work when they come of age."
"But what about those people out there?"
"They aren't homeless. They have places to live, schools, medicine, opportunities. They just live a more basic life than those of us in the towers."
Dani looked up to see him gazing wistfully out the window. “You sound like you envy them."
Startled, he shrugged. “It's a hard life. But at least you know you're living.” Reaching up, he toyed with a lock of her hair. “Life in the towers is good. It's safe. But sometimes you forget there was once more."
Dani snorted. “Yeah. Gas bills and terrorist attacks and having to work for a living."
"And passion.” He caught her chin and lifted it. “Don't ever forget passion."
"Don't you find passion here?” His intensity left her breathless.
"Right now I'm only finding passion in one place."
He only had time for the briefest of caresses before the walkway carried them into another atrium. This time Trev led them to the middle, away from the walkways and towards rows upon rows of enormous glass and chrome elevators disappearing up into the domed ceiling of the atrium. “These aren't glass up all three hundred floors, are they?"
He chuckled. “No, just at the landings. Any more and I think it would make even the stoutest heart a bit acrophobic.” Ushering her around to one of the back banks, he guided her into a waiting elevator. “Two-eleven."
"Proceeding,” a melodic, feminine voice responded, and the elevator started up.
Dani barely felt the elevator start up, and had no sense of their speed until she realized that the lights flickering past periodically were actually the open landings Trev had mentioned, whisking past in a fraction of a second. A trip she would have guessed to take twenty minutes or longer was over in less than half that.
As it started to slow, Trev spoke again. “Southwest residential."
"One moment, please."
The elevator slowed to a halt, then slanted leftwise, making Dani squeak and stumble into Trev, who gave her a comforting squeeze. “Almost there."
"Are we going sideways?"
"Unless you'd rather walk,” he confirmed obliquely. “But it's a long way around."
"No, this is—” She stopped, unsure of how to describe this strange new world she found herself in.
"I understand. Even just the glimpses I saw into your world from my little corner were amazing."
"But Trev, what's going on?"
"Not here.” He glanced up to the corner where, even in her time, security cameras were hidden.
Nervous now, she followed his glare up, crossing her arms over her chest.
The elevator doors finally opened onto a long corridor running perpendicular to them, lined every forty feet or so with plain wooden doors. It looked like nothing so much as an old fashioned hotel hallway, dimly lit and sterile, while trying to appear invitingly homey. It certainly wasn't what she'd expected in a twenty-third century city building.
Sliding his arm around her waist, Trev guided Dani down the hall to the right. Twelve doors down, he stopped and ran his thumb over a small blue-lit pad. A moment later the door slid back into its frame, just like on Star Trek, and Trev ushered her in.
Either the human body required certain shapes and forms for comfortable living or humanity just resisted radical change, because Trev's apartment looked like any modern apartment in Manhattan she'd ever been in. There was a small galley kitchen, a little eat-in dining area, and a living room that seemed to be more of a lounge, all open into one another. The lights started to come up until Trev said a soft, “Dim.” They subsided, leaving the room faintly illuminated. “Go on,” he encouraged. “Take a look."
She didn't need to ask what he meant. Her eyes had locked onto the enormous picture window on the far side of the lounge, her feet already carrying her towards it as she let her briefcase drop to the floor.
Breathtaking didn't begin to describe it.
New York was always a city of lights, but now it seemed as though all those lights had been taken and reshaped upwards into climbing spires, networked together by webs of crystalline luminescence that must be the walkway tubes. “All the residences are on the outside,” Trev explained, leaning close behind her, looking out himself, “so that everyone has a view. All the commerce and industry are on the inside rings."
"Aren't you worried about getting hit by an airplane or something?"
"We don't use them anymore. The mag lev trains go faster than any jet and are more appropriate and sustainable. Grand Central is the hub for trains to Chicago, London, and Dakar. You can go across country in about three hours without your feet ever leaving the ground."
"Because we're so earth bound now,” she said archly over her shoulder.
He chuckled. “Point taken."
Turning back, she let her eyes follow the black ribbon of the river down until she found the familiar viridian glow of Liberty Island. Some things remained the same, at least. “Doesn't it become too much, though? I mean, God, we must be a half a mile up. Don't you ever get overwhelmed?"
"That's easy enough to fix. Window, opaque."
Instantly the glass went black, blocking out the view as though it had never been.
Freed from the mesmerizing view, she turned to him. “So, now can you tell me what's going on?"
"I can think of better things, but...” Taking her hand, he guided her to sit down in a low slung armchair, then sat opposite her, leaning close. “A few months ago, there was an accident in one of the research facilities here in Greenwich One. One of our scientists was working on teleportation technology and something happened. We aren't really sure what. All we know is that i
t made a small tear in the fabric of time and space, a sort of bubble of temporal flux, right in that one spot in Grand Central Station, half in the twenty-first century and half in the twenty-third.” Almost unconsciously, he took up her hand and began stroking it gently between his own. “At first it was just small, almost microscopic, but as more people from your side pushed through it without noticing, it slowly tore wider and wider until it was as large as a person. The scientists were scrambling for a solution, but in the meantime they needed to stop the rift from tearing further. So they put me and a couple of others on guard duty. We were to divert people around the bubble just by being seen without ever having to come all the way through ourselves."
"And then I ran into you."
"Oh, I'd noticed you long before that.” Even in the dim light, she could tell his eyes had gone smoky. “Every morning at eight forty-three you would go rushing past, with your bags and your files and your hair a gorgeous mess. And every day I would watch you until you passed the edge of the bubble, wishing I had a way to get to know you. It took me three weeks with the facial recognition software and historical databases to finally find your name. After that, I dug up every scrap I could find on you."
"So you know all about me?” Her heart clenched. “Everything that's coming? When I die? How?"
"No.” He pulled her into the comfort of his arms. “I only looked backward from 2005. I needed to know who you were, not who you will become."
His hands now stroked her back, offering comfort but exciting her a bit more. “You could have asked me."
"I couldn't. We weren't allowed to step through. If I did that, they would have taken me off that duty and I'd have lost you completely."
"But that night...” Her face flushed at the memory as much as in response to the exploration of his broad hand, now caressing her bare skin beneath the back of her shirt.
"That night I made love to you for the first time?” He slid her closer against him, his eyes locked on her lips as he spoke, tempting her to wet them in invitation. “I wasn't thinking much with my head that night. Every time you got close, you became a bit more aware of this side. I knew I couldn't bring you through, but I thought maybe I could get away with going the other way."
