2            OSTP

Daniel Rice leaned against a bookcase, his arms folded and a grin spreading across his face. He always enjoyed showing visitors around the Office of Science and Technology Policy, the building just steps from the White House, but this visitor was special.

Nala Pasquier sat in Daniel’s high-back office chair, kicked her shoes off and put her bare feet up on his desk. “I love your office. Way better than my closet at Fermilab.” She leaned back, hands clasped behind her head. “Ahh… I could get used to this.”

It was her first venture into Daniel’s home territory, and she’d made herself comfortable right away. But that was Nala. Adaptable. Ready for anything.

Physical attraction was the easiest part of their relationship. Those silky legs splayed across his desk seemed incongruous among the pens, paper and other objects of his routine workday, but he was only too happy to soak in the view. Nala was certainly attractive. And smart. And perceptive. But she was also courageously experimental, boldly carving her own path through life, a trait Daniel treasured more than any.

Friday afternoons at OSTP were generally quiet, with most of the employees wrapping up for the weekend. It was a good time to show his houseguest where he worked. “You’d fit right in around here.” He brushed a finger across her toes. “Except for your complete disregard for the rules.”

“What? No feet on desks?” She gave him a crooked smile.

He shook his head. “You’d be surprised how formal it gets in an office that advises the president.”

She scrunched up her nose in a fake pout, a classic Nala expression that Daniel found both brash and adorable. It was one of many looks from this brown-skinned beauty that made his heart melt .

“Well… poofy poof on you,” she said, clearly holding back. Her more usual taunts could singe the lacquer off the door. She’d been on her best behavior ever since they’d walked into the office.

Nala pulled her feet from the desk and sat up straight. She gazed innocently up at Daniel, her large eyes partly hidden behind strands of wavy brown hair. “Sorry. You won’t punish me, will you? At least… not here?”

Daniel laughed, resisting the urge to kiss her. “I’ll give you a pass this time since you’re a visitor.”

She rolled gorgeous eyes to her forehead. “Not quite the response I was looking for. Role play, Daniel, role play.”

Daniel sighed. Another missed opportunity. It happened a lot. “I should have said…?”

She stood up and put a hand to his cheek. “I can’t put the words into your mouth. That’d ruin all the fun. But don’t worry, you’re getting there.”

Nala certainly knew how to have fun. She’d arrived a few days before and they’d spent their days touring the Washington sights, but not in any conventional tourist sense. They paddled kayaks past a serene Jefferson Memorial.  At the Capitol steps, she handed her phone to a passerby and struck up an impromptu dance with Daniel. He was embarrassed by his clumsiness and the stares from tour groups, but he was happily surprised at the genuinely spontaneous photos.

No tour of Washington would be complete without a visit to the Smithsonian, and Nala used their time to seek out the preserved artifacts of science including a superb display of historic particle accelerators. With tact Daniel didn’t know she had, Nala found a curator and pointed out a small mistake in how one of the cyclotrons had been displayed. The curator recognized her from Fermilab news reports and the two quickly became new best friends with smiling selfies taken in front of the exhibit .

She absorbed Daniel’s guided tour of the capital city like she did everything — with an eager curiosity for all things new. But each evening, on their return to his condo across the river in Virginia, she’d wrapped her arms around his neck and taken command. She guided, he followed. He loved every minute of it, even when her assertive style pushed him into new territory.

“Guess I’ll have to… I don’t know… tickle your badly behaved toes when we get home.”

She put a hand to her chin. “Hmm. Very boy scout. But going in the right direction.”

“Nala, I don’t think I’ll ever be like you.”

She knitted her brow. “Like I’d want that? We’re different people and that’s fantastic. Some of the best relationships start from opposite corners. Jesus, it’s why men and women are attracted to each other in the first place. We’re different, physically, emotionally. I have lots of girlfriends, but I’m looking for something else in a man.”

He leaned in close to her. “So… do I meet your requirements?”

She smiled, lifting both eyebrows. “You’re way ahead of most guys. You know what a neutrino is.” She brushed the tip of her nose against his and spoke in a low, sultry tone. “Oh yeah, Mr. Government Scientist, you most certainly meet my requirements.”

She gave him a peck on the lips and twirled around in place, the tone of her voice doing a similar one-eighty. “What else you got in this office that I should see?”

“You’ve seen all this dungeon has to offer.” He looked at his watch. “How about drinks before dinner?”

She nodded, and he led her into the foyer of the office, where the OSTP receptionist, Janine Ryder, studied a computer screen. Janine looked up. “Did you get the full tour?”

“Yes, your office is beautiful,” Nala answered. “I love the French architecture. ”

“I do too,” Janine said, “but not everyone favors the Eisenhower Building.” She jerked her head toward Daniel.

Daniel shrugged. “Come back in January. It feels like a medieval crypt in here, only colder.”

Janine laughed. “Pay no attention to him, Nala. He just likes to whine about living anywhere east of the Mississippi.”

“A westerner at heart, I guess,” Daniel said. He had nothing against the east, but the rugged west had always been the foundation of his soul. He longed for another hike deep into the Grand Canyon, another climb up Mount Rainier. What easterners called mountains weren’t much more than speed bumps.

“What’s up for the weekend?” Daniel asked Janine.

“Poconos with a friend. The fall colors should be great,” she answered. A year ago, Daniel could have been that friend, but dating a colleague was awkward at best, a notion Janine didn’t dispute. With Nala in the office, long-standing tensions were swept away. Daniel had a girlfriend now, even if their long-distance relationship was limited to getting together once a month.

“How about you two?” Janine asked.

“A hike on the Appalachian Trail. Fresh air and all that,” Daniel answered.

“I’ve never been, but I hear the trail is very pretty.”

“You know, it’s funny—” Daniel’s thought was interrupted when two men in dark suits walked through the open door and into the foyer. One carried a briefcase, tucking sunglasses into his jacket pocket. Very official. Very serious.

Daniel had no idea who they were. Nala tensed, glancing his way. She’d never been comfortable with figures of authority, and these guys radiated authority. Daniel stepped aside, allowing Janine to do her job .

“Good afternoon, welcome to OSTP. How can I help you?” Janine asked sweetly.

The elder of the two glanced at Daniel, then spoke to Janine. “FBI. Agent Griffith. This is Agent Torre.” They both displayed identification. “We’re here to see Dr. Daniel Rice.”

“Agent Griffith,” she acknowledged. She motioned toward Daniel just as he offered his hand. “Meet Dr. Daniel Rice.”

“Always happy to help the FBI,” Daniel said. “What brings you here?” As a scientific investigator and part-time public figure, Daniel rarely interacted with law enforcement. The investigation at Fermilab the year before was a notable exception.

Nala slipped a hand under Daniel’s arm, a quiet signal of her need to stay close. Her lips tightened and her brow pressed down over eyes shooting daggers at the intruders.

Agent Griffith glanced at her defensive posture, the wrinkles across his forehead deepening. Returning his attention to Daniel, he spoke with a gruff voice. “It’s confidential. We’ll need a secured meeting place. Preferably a SCIF.”

SCIF, or Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility, was basically a conference room sealed to the outside world. Soundproofing construction, electronics isolation, the works. SCIFs were all the rage in Washington, almost a competition between agencies. My SCIF is bigger than your SCIF— that kind of thing.

The Eisenhower Building had just such a room in the basement. Looking over Janine’s shoulder, Daniel could see that she’d already brought up the room reservation form on her computer.

Ordinarily, he’d cooperate without hesitation, but today he had a guest. “Could this wait until Monday? I’m not officially working today and we were just about to leave. I’d be happy to schedule some time.”

The agent shook his head once. “Sorry, Dr. Rice. We wouldn’t normally barge in like this, but it’s a priority investigation. It can’t wait. Twenty minutes, plus or minus, depending on how our conversation goes.” He dipped his head toward Nala. “Sorry, ma’am.”

Daniel took a deep breath. These guys didn’t look like they were going to take no for an answer. He turned to Nala. Her naturally buoyant personality had disappeared with the FBI presence, and Daniel understood why. She’d faced arrest on a long list of federal charges only a year before in the Fermilab investigation.

Nala didn’t say anything, making it clear enough that the next step was his decision. Twenty minutes. A small delay in their plans for the evening, but nothing major. Best to accommodate the FBI.

“Do you mind waiting here?” he asked.

Nala whispered, “No problem, I’ll be fine.”

Janine hit a few keys on her computer. “You’re booked.”

Daniel managed a smile. “Okay, then, Agent Griffith, Agent Torre. Let’s chat.” He gave Nala a hug. “Make yourself comfortable. Back in a flash.”

Daniel led the two FBI agents down several flights of stairs to the basement. They checked in with a clerk, who confiscated their cell phones and ushered them into the SCIF. The massive door closed with a thud. Eavesdropping from the hallway was unlikely.

Inside, it looked like any other conference room, though the walls were bare.

“If it makes any difference, I have top secret clearance,” Daniel said as they settled into chairs around a large table.

“Yes, sir, we know,” Agent Torre said. He laid his briefcase on the table, aligning it precisely parallel with its edge. In any other circumstance, Daniel might have joked about the man’s idiosyncrasies, but Torre seemed to be entirely humorless. Agent Griffith didn’t look any better .

Torre drew a photograph from his briefcase and slid it across the table. “Recognize this man, Dr. Rice?”

Daniel picked up the photo. It showed an overweight man with glasses, bald headed. Posed, perhaps for an employee badge or driver’s license. “I don’t think so.” Daniel passed the picture back.

“How about the name Elliott Becton?”

Daniel shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Should I know him?”

Griffith picked up the line of questions without missing a beat. “Apparently Becton knew you.”

“Knew?”

“Yes. Elliott Becton is deceased,” Griffith answered. “Three days ago. Walked into an Orlando police station, collapsed on the floor and died.”

“Sorry to hear,” Daniel said. “Of course, a lot of people know me. I do lectures, late-night TV. That kind of thing.”

“Yes, sir, we’re aware,” Torre said flatly. Torre pushed another photo across the table. In it, a white oval doorway stood alone in a large facility. Daniel recognized the location immediately—the Operations and Checkout building at Kennedy Space Center and the portal to other worlds. “I believe you’ve used the alien transportation device that’s installed there?”

“Uh, yeah. Once. A visit to Core.” Daniel recalled his impromptu and somewhat disturbing passage directly into the interior of the moon-sized gatekeeper to the galaxy. “Is my trip through the portal related to Becton?”

“Possibly,” Griffith answered. “While you were at KSC, did you meet any of the NASA engineers?”

Daniel shook his head. “No, I don’t recall anyone besides Zin. Aastazin. The android. Core’s representative here on Earth.” Daniel held up a hand at the steely look from Agent Torre. “But, you already knew that too, right?”

Torre didn’t flinch, his face seemingly made of stone.

Griffith asked once more, “So, no contact with any of the engineers at NASA while you were at KSC?”

Daniel fished into his memory of the brief visit six months earlier. Jan Spiegel had joined him from Fermilab. Marie Kendrick, who regularly made jumps through the portal, had been there too. They’d gathered around the alien doorway while Zin explained the astounding technology that could whisk you to a planet a thousand light-years away. Daniel didn’t recall meeting any NASA engineers.

“None that I’m aware of,” Daniel said.

Griffith looked at Torre, who nodded. With any luck, they were ready to share the purpose of their little inquisition.

“Dr. Rice,” Griffith said, “Elliott Becton was a NASA engineer, employed at Kennedy Space Center. A twenty-year veteran. He was one of the key people who installed that portal. Becton had access to some very advanced alien technology.”

“And,” Agent Torre added, “we believe that he may have figured out how it works. A security camera recorded him walking out the KSC door. Ten minutes later he was dying in an Orlando police station—fifty miles away.”

A three-hundred-mile-per-hour car? Teleportation? Or something else? In the quantum world, it was always something else.

Daniel analyzed Torre’s statement in its entirety. A NASA engineer, with access to Zin’s portal technology— but not necessarily with Zin’s help— might have reverse engineered the portal’s function to obtain its secrets. And then he’d died.

Unfamiliar technology, misused. Always a recipe for disaster, and Becton had paid the price. Surely he must have known that returning from 4-D space could be deadly; that much was common knowledge. In fact, it was the whole reason that the katanauts at KSC used the alien portal to jump interstellar distances.

Griffith described the scene at an Orlando police station and showed Daniel a photo of a utility belt covered with electronics that Becton had probably assembled himself. Nothing on the belt looked remotely like the KSC portal, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t based on the same idea.

Passing through 4-D space and coming out alive on the other side required a special trick. Zin’s portal could do it. The yin-yang object they’d recovered from Soyuz could do it too. But those were alien devices. As far as Daniel knew, humans hadn’t conquered this part of the technology.

Until now?

“Becton’s dead,” Daniel said. “Whatever he learned about jumping through quantum space, it wasn’t enough.”

Agent Griffith shook his head. “We don’t think he was jumping through any kind of space, Dr. Rice.” He pointed to the photo of the alien portal. “As a scientist, perhaps you’re familiar with one aspect of this technology. It produces a temporal offset.”

Daniel recalled a brief explanation from Zin. The trick to survive the return from quantum space involved a brief suspension of the flow of time. The lost Soyuz astronauts had been frozen in this time warp. Daniel had briefly experienced it himself during his trip to Core; the process had been unnerving but not deadly.

“I’m familiar,” Daniel said. “They put you in a specially designed chair, a portal transfer station, they call it. A hood covers your face and a yellow light flashes. The flash repeats once you’re back in 3-D space.” No doubt there was more to it, but that was as much as Daniel knew. Zin hadn’t been generous in his explanation. “It’s really no big deal, even though it leaves you with an odd feeling. Like you’d just passed out. ”

Both agents nodded. “You know more than most people we’ve talked to,” Griffith said. “But the next question is the kicker, the reason we came to see you.”

“And that question is?”

Agent Griffith cleared his throat. “Dr. Rice, do you know how to travel to the future?”