The twenty-third century. Black holes. Spaceships. Sunny had finally lapsed into silence as Libby had recounted a story about a mission to Mars—dear Lord, Mars—and Cal’s fateful encounter with an uncharted black hole, which, through a combination of luck, skill and the mysterious hand of destiny, had shot him backward from the middle of the twenty-third century to the spring of last year.
The confused Cal, an intergalactic cargo pilot with an affection for flying and poetry, had become a time traveler.
Time travel.
Oh, God, she thought.
She remembered clearly the faint smile on Jacob’s face when he had told her of his current experiments. But that didn’t mean— No. She took a steadying breath, determined to control her wandering imagination.
It had to be some sort of joke. People did not, accidentally or otherwise, zoom through time and fall in love. Jacob was from Philadelphia, she reminded herself as she gulped down brandy. He was a scientist with a bad attitude, and that was all.
“You don’t believe me,” Libby said with a sigh.
Care and patience, Sunny told herself as she dragged a hand through her hair. Her sister needed care and patience. “Honey, let’s just take this slow.”
“You think I’m making it up.”
“I’m not sure what I think.” She took a cleansing breath. “Okay, you’re trying to tell me that Cal, a former captain in—what was it?”
“The International Space Force.”
“Right. That he crashed his spaceship in the forest, after being sent through time by an encounter with a black hole.”
She’d hoped that when she said it herself, when Libby heard it repeated, her sister would come out of whatever spell she was in. But Libby just nodded. “That’s fairly accurate.”
“Fairly accurate.” Sunny tried again. “And now Jacob, going about it through more organized methods, followed the same route so he could visit with his brother.”
“He wants to take him back. I could see it by the way he looked at me.”
The misery on Libby’s face had Sunny reaching out a hand. “Cal loves you. Nothing J.T. did or didn’t do could change that.”
“No, but . . . Sunny, can’t you see? He didn’t pop up here on impulse. He must have worked for months, even years, to find the way. If a man’s obsessed with something—”
“All right,” she interrupted. “He didn’t pop up here on impulse. For reasons I’ve never fully understood, he’s angry that Cal married you and decided to live in Oregon.”
“Not just Oregon,” Libby shot back. “Twentieth-century Oregon.”
“Now, take it slow, honey. I know you’re upset, but—”
“Upset?” Libby countered. “Damn right I’m upset. The man traveled over two hundred years, and he’s not going to want to go back without Cal.”
At a loss, Sunny flopped back on the bed. “Libby, you’ve got to get ahold of yourself. You’re the sensible one, remember? You have to know this is all nonsense.”
“Okay.” Deciding on a different tack, she took a deep breath. “Can you tell me, honestly tell me, that you haven’t noticed something odd about J.T.?” She held up a hand before Sunny could answer. “Not just eccentric, not just endearingly different, but downright odd?”
“Well, I . . .”
“Ah.” Taking her sister’s hesitation for agreement, she pressed on. “How did he get here?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean . . . did he drive up in a car? I didn’t notice one.”
“No, he didn’t come in a car. At least . . .” She rubbed her suddenly damp hands on her thighs. “He walked out of the woods.”
“Walked out of the woods.” Libby nodded grimly. “In the middle of winter.”
“Lib, I’ll concede that J.T.’s a little unusual.”
“The way he seems fascinated or puzzled by ordinary objects?”
She remembered the kitchen faucet. “Well, yes.”
“The way he doesn’t always understand colloquialisms or phrases?”
“That, too, but—Libby, just because the man acts a little odd occasionally and has a hard time with slang doesn’t mean he’s an alien from outer space.”
“Not an alien,” Libby said patiently. “He’s as human as you or I. He’s just from the twenty-third century.”
“Oh, is that all?”
“Maybe there’s a simpler way to convince you.” She rose and took Sunny’s hand. “Whatever happens between Cal and me, we’ll work it out together. But you have to understand it, all of it. I’m only doing this because you have a right to know what you’re walking into.”
She nodded. She didn’t dare speak, because too much of what Libby had told her made a horrible kind of sense. And she was afraid, very afraid.
With competent movements, Libby took what seemed to be a watch from the deep drawer of her desk. While Sunny looked on, she attached a line of clear wire from the stem of the watch to the computer. After booting up the machine, she gestured.
“Come on over.”
Cautious, Sunny joined her. “What is that thing?”
“It’s Cal’s wrist unit. Computer.”
Sunny jumped back a foot at the sound of the mechanical voice and sent a chair tumbling. “How did you do that?”
“With a mix of twentieth-century and twenty-third-century technology.”
“But . . . but . . . but . . .”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Libby warned, and faced the screen again. “Computer, relate file information on Jacob Hornblower.”
Sunny bit back a hysterical giggle. “Stop.”
The computer went silent. On rubbery legs, Sunny stepped back until she collided with the bed.
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Take a few deep breaths,” Libby advised her. “It takes a while to absorb it.”
“He told me he was experimenting with time travel.” She felt the laughter bubble up again, hot and uncontrollable. “That’s a good one.” She squeezed her eyes shut. It was a dream, she told herself, just a ridiculous dream. But when she opened her eyes again everything was the same. “Looks like the joke’s on me.” She heard the door slam on the floor below. Instantly she was on her feet. “I’m going to have this out with him, right now.”
“Why don’t you—” Libby cut herself off when Sunny rounded on her. “Never mind.” She sunk back on the bed as Sunny charged down the stairs.
But it was Cal she ran into, not Jacob. “Where is he?” she demanded.
“He’s, ah . . . out. Is Libby upstairs?”
“Yes.” Feet spread, eyes challenging, she blocked the stairs. “She’s upset.”
“She needn’t be.”
Because what she saw in his eyes answered some of her questions, she relaxed. “I’m glad you realize what a lucky jerk you are, Caleb.”
“I love you, too.”
She relented enough to kiss him. Later, she decided. Later she would think all this through. And probably go insane. But for now she had a job to do.
