10 - Alliance

183 32 24
                                    

The laboratory, 00:28

A fast rhythm replaces the sound of the rain on the car roof. Ric leans against the door of the cold store, drumming his fingers against the sheet metal. His tense body is the picture of impatience. Dan gasps, surprised by the shift but glad she doesn't have to deal with whatever lurks on the parking lot for the moment. As soon as she catches her breath, she forces a smile. "Are you waiting for me? Sorry for the delay, got stuck in a time jam."

"You took your time for sure. We can't spend the whole night in these premises, who knows when our coffee addicts return. What's that?"

He points at the torn sheet in her hand. Surprised, she checks the paper and lifts her gaze to meet his. "Nothing. Just some notes I took to order my thoughts."

"Can I see?"

She hands him the paper without comment. It has no real value, in contrast to her driving licence. Ric studies her scribbles with the look of a boy who received an autograph of his favourite footballer. "Wow. You are her, aren't you? The real Doctor Lent. I recognise the writing. We have a few of your notebooks on display at the Chronos headquarter. The museum allowed us to keep them."

Dan frowns, embarrassed by his admiration for her future self. Besides, she remembers that teacher who declared her scrawls illegible and a sore excuse for handwriting. But another thought shoves the unpleasant memory aside. "How is it possible I brought the note with me? I mean, why didn't my whole car follow me here?"

"The paper doesn't weigh much. It falls under the thirty-per-cent rule." He continues to study her notes with an almost reverent expression.

"The what?" Dan prods, her impatience growing by the minute.

"Oh, the thirty-per-cent rule. The temporal animator only carries objects with a proper mass bellow thirty per cent of a person's body weight, not the whole environment. There must be a limit. As the story goes, thirty per cent was the compromise agreed upon after a few awkward situations. Besides, you have to maintain direct contact with things to pull them along. Like your clothes, for example."

Dan feels heat rushing to her cheeks and craves for a way to erase that grin on Ric's face. The picture of herself appearing stark naked in his presence is almost as bad as the memory of Bowler's advances. Remembered anger directed at the man's behaviour helps to keep her voice steady. "Okay, I got this. Thirty-per-cent rule. However, I still want to know why I'm here."

Ric's grin fades. He leans back against the table, arms crossed. "I'd like answers too—to this question and other important ones. Chronos sent me to investigate an unauthorised time experiment. Now, I guess it targets Doctor D. M. Lent. Or, to name the child, you. You'll have to tell me more about yourself. Can you imagine a reason why someone brought you here and why you keep disappearing?"

"Hard to answer questions without basic knowledge of facts. I feel as out of place as a dolphin in the Sahara desert."

"The Sahara desert? It hasn't been a desert for at least—oh. Never mind."

Dan shakes her head. She longs to know more about Ric's future. But right now, she can't let herself get distracted. "Well. I only know I was driving home from a presentation when in a tunnel, the lights failed, and I woke here. Since then, I'm thrown back and forth between this place and my car. I'm lucky I could pull over into a parking lot before I crashed. I'm sure a ping pong ball during a world championship has more freedom of choice."

Ric contemplates her before he changes the subject. "The research project you're working on, what is it about?"

Dan sighs. "Refining polymer surfaces by molecular animation. My laptop is back in my car. I have a presentation on it with the current results. I could bring it—it would fit into your rule."

"It's your rule, not mine—you are Doctor Lent." His gaze is unfocused as he seems to stare at the wall right through Dan's chest. "I gather you don't work on the problem of temporal side effects of molecular animation yet?"

"Temporal side effects? Are you kidding?"

Ric rubs his stubbly chin, the faint scratching sound raising the hairs in Dan's neck. "Not kidding, trust me. My professor never failed to remind me how complex molecular animation is. Your breakthrough may be imminent. Unfortunately, you didn't elaborate in your biography."

"I doubt I stand in front of a mysterious breakthrough. The uni is about to cancel my project if I can't raise the necessary funds to continue my research. I'd have to look for another job. In my student days, I got ample experience as a waitress." She crosses her arms. "So, among fellow scientists, what are the temporal side effects of molecular animation?"

Ric falls back onto another dose of chin rubbing. "Look, I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to tell you. I recognise a textbook example of the situation from the introductory course when I see one. My prof warned us of temporal paradoxes. A wrong word can disturb the whole timeline. I'm sure you understand, it's the killing-your-grandfather example and that jazz."

Dan shakes her head, trying to chase the cobwebs slowing her thinking process. She has read enough science fiction to grasp Ric's meaning. Still, there is a lot at stake for her. Does he want her to spend the rest of her life in a parking lot because of possible temporal confusions? As long as she doesn't know how to prevent the involuntary time shifts, she can't go home or anywhere. Dan shuffles her arguments and takes another calming breath. Time to engage her persuasive skills.

"Listen, my life might be at stake. My future at the least. How can you be certain you don't need to help me to ensure your timeline stays intact?"

He stares into a corner of the lab, and for a brief moment, Dan wonders if he sees something important there. A mouse, or a hidden camera, perhaps? She follows his gaze, but can't find anything aside from a few dust bunnies on the cream floor. She sighs. "Tell me if I'm wrong. This time travel thing is still new to me."

Ric focuses on her and shakes his head. "You're right. I don't know which course of action will heal the disturbance in the timeline. The only thing I'm sure about is someone in this bunker plays a dangerous game. My job is to stop the time vandals. So our interests might coincide. Why don't we work together? No one prevents us from separating if it turns out as the better course. Deal?"

Dan's smile is broader and more genuine than the one she reserves for her potential sponsors. She offers Ric her right hand. His touch is strong and warm, and Dan regrets the loss of the connection as soon as he releases his reassuring grip. Ric heads to the door and opens it a crack.
"All clear, the hall is empty. Let's go!"

Before his finger touches the sensor plate to dim the lights of the lab, they flicker and fade into darkness.

Twisted TimeWhere stories live. Discover now