Flirting With Forever by Gwyn Cready (new books to read TXT) 📕

reappears. Except,” Mertons said, clapping his hands, “it is the director’s daughter! DeLaney is fired, the director is suspended, and the Guild takes control of the lab. They restructure the entire security process. Even odder, though, it turns out the girl, who arrives bald and in tears, complaining of being pursued by a band of plethicords—”

“Plethicords?”

Mertons gave him a shrug that suggested he’d asked himself the same question. “It turns out that while DeLaney had his back turned she’d flipped the glass to gaze through the other side, the side without the padded eyepiece, and instead of transporting herself a hundred and forty-one years before 1962, she’s hurled herself a hundred and forty-one years beyond it.”

“The future.”

“The future.” Mertons nodded. “A wild and untamed place. Though who’d have thought it was a simple matter of looking through the other end?”

Peter stroked his chin. It was quite an il uminating story

—more il uminating than Mertons had probably intended.

And since Peter, like Mertons, understood the verbosity of some men when it came to time travel, he said, “I see your point about the risk. Tel me, though, given the outcome, what do you think are the implications for the future of, wel , traveling to the future?”

“The implications?” Mertons clasped his hands behind his back and paced slowly along the long row of windows with the air of a philosopher. “There are a number of them to be sure. First, there is a certain amount of ethical debate that wil be required before we could reasonably attempt it again, even with trained personnel. Second, the success of again, even with trained personnel. Second, the success of the simple reversal of the lens suggests straightforward rearrangements of other time tube paraphernalia may yield similar results. And third …” He laughed a private laugh. “A team of time accountants determined nothing significant had been changed, but even now I can tel you that if it were me being sent forward, I’d be prepared for a plethicord wearing a blond wig—What the … ?”

Peter snapped one end of the cuff around his ankle and the other around the leg of the granite table.

The color drained from Merton’s face. “Oh, Peter, you mustn’t.”

“I’m sorry. If there was any other way …” In three strides Peter was at the case. He lifted his heel and shattered the glass. Instantly an alarm began to ring. He reached in, undid the lock and the door swung open. “I promise to return as soon as I finish.”

Mertons essayed a heartfelt speech on the risks and costs, most of which was lost on Peter, who picked through the lens case to find the one that would place him on her doorstep. Someone hammered at the door. Peter figured he had only a moment before a battering ram was contrived. He found the lens, laid it backward in the mount and ran to Mertons.

“Would you care to be punched?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“A plausible defense, Mertons. I’m trying to help you.”

Mertons returned to his theme. “The Executive Guild wil be furious. They hold al the cards. Peter, think about your future.”

future.”

The first boom sounded at the door. “Dammit, Mertons, shal I punch you or not?”

“This isn’t a joke. You wil be brought before the examining board. They’l start by rescinding your—”

Peter threw a reluctant fist into Mertons’s nose. Over the outraged rage howl, he yel ed, “Crumple,” and with the sound of hammering crashes at the door, he returned to the book, put the wrong end of the lens to his eye, focused on the page and disappeared.

27

Jeanne snapped off her desk lamp, slipped off her pumps and dug in the tote for her Sketchers. If I have to listen to one more high-paid business executive complain about how hard it is to be them, she thought, I’m gonna shoot somebody.

Cam was packed off with Mr. Bal , digging into old, rich-guy food somewhere, and Jeanne was looking forward to an easy bus ride home while she finished the sexy romance about the woman who fal s into the pages of her favorite book. She actual y thought Cam would enjoy it, too, given her amazing adventure, but she’d been so damn moody since the Lely thing started, Jeanne didn’t dare risk suggesting it.

She dropped her walking shoes under her desk and was just about to slide a foot in when she noticed a flash of