13 October, 126,891
Abiquiú, New Mexico
Jump jeebies jittered down Nathan’s spine and roiled his belly. Liquid light swirled about him, then faded. He stood in a white, octagonal hall with polished black floors. A print of a giant orchid hung on one wall, above a digital readout: 13 October, 126,891:11:36:18. The last digit blinked to seven, then to six.
He was back in the refuge where Haakon had first taken him. But when had he been here with Haakon? He remembered it had been one hundred plus thousand years ago, but he didn’t remember the date.
He called out, “Hello? Anyone here?”
Silence.
He rushed to the bedroom. Two king-sized beds, neatly made with military corners, stood arrayed on the wall. They’d been pushed together when he was last here. He checked the wardrobes—fully stocked with clothing.
Back in the octagonal room, he found the first aid kit. It looked exactly the same as when he’d first seen it. Maybe this was before he and Haakon had arrived here. He checked the lounge next. Again, no difference. Outside, a herd of the weird long-horned buffalo grazed.
The kitchen was the same, too, and fully stocked, including the Russian power drinks. The control room was harder to tell, but it looked the same. He fingered the device that hung from his neck. At least he could use that to explore, if needed.
He returned to the lounge and flopped into one of the easy chairs. Nell hadn’t said much other than showing him the rudiments of operating his new timepiece. She’d set it to these coordinates and said to wait for Haakon.
Okay, then. He trusted her. He’d wait.
That settled, he considered the theoretical implications of his observations about time travel. He needed a notepad and some time.
After an hour of searching, he’d found a spiral staircase to the roof and an array of what had to be defensive weapons for the refuge. “Wards,” Corbett had called them. Another spiral stair led to a basement, which included a laundry, what had to be some kind of power plant, a trash dumpster, and more weapons. From the fine ashes inside, it looked like the dumpster was more like an incinerator.
The kitchen pantry and freezer were fully stocked, as were the wardrobe and bathrooms.
But nowhere could he find pencils or notepads.
In the control room, he started opening drawers and poking into crannies. At last, he found a cache of number two pencils, a crank sharpener, and dozens of legal pads. That would do nicely.
He returned to the kitchen, sat at the dining table and started to work.
An uncertain time later, a chime sounded from the octagonal room, what he’d come to think of as the entry all. It was dark outside, but he’d made progress in sketching out his theories. He’d need more data, though, before he could go much farther. He rose to investigate the chime.
The clock on the wall now read 19:45:16, so he’d been working ten hours. With that, a hunger pang reminded him he should eat. But somehow a palette of supplies had arrived in the octagonal room. Someone had taped a bright red envelope to the top of the palette. “READ ME FIRST” was written in big letters on the envelope, followed by what had to be the same message in a dozen different languages.
Okay, he’d read it. Apparently, this was a semiannual automated update to the refuge supplies. The instructions added that a maintenance team would arrive within twenty-four hours unless he signaled otherwise from the control room. It even helpfully told him how to do that without knowing a password.
Nathan chewed his lower lip. The last thing he wanted was to get caught up again in Timekeeper bureaucracy. He wanted Haakon, but he had no confidence the organization would help him. If Haakon hadn’t shown up in six months, well, then according to these instructions there’d be a new supply packet. He could decide then what to do.
He sifted through the boxes on the packet. Mostly foodstuffs and other expendables, like toothpaste and laundry detergent. If he wanted, he could stay here forever.
Better yet, if Haakon showed up, they could stay here forever.
A week later, Nathan pulled freshly made bread from the oven and then sat at the dining table. Where was Haakon? Nell had implied that he would show up right away.
He fingered his timepiece. Maybe he should use it.
He pulled up the holographic display and considered. If he swiped here, it brought up the destination screen. Presets were the present time, date, and location. He walked to the octagonal entry and checked. They agreed.
All right then. He changed the destination to one year earlier, and pressed the “go” button.
The jump was quick and easy, with the barest of jump jeebies. Haakon had said longer jumps were harder.
Sure enough, the orchid print was still on the wall. He was in the same refuge. But when he looked in the bedroom, the beds were shoved up next to each other. They weren’t unmade, but they didn’t have his usual precise, military corners.
“Hey! Anyone here?”
No answer.
He went to the entry hall and checked the first aid kit. It was nearly empty. He recognized the wad of adhesive he crammed in it. So they’d been here, but were gone. Probably to Chicago.
He set the destination to 2AM the night prior. Moonlight shown through the windows, and a ruddy nightlight in the bathroom cast shadows on the mussed beds. No change.
He stepped back to 2AM the previous night. Still no change. He kept stepping back until suddenly the beds were occupied. His breath caught in his throat. Haakon was there, sheets twisted about his naked body, an angry welt on his shoulder. Nathan recognized his earlier self, asleep, cuddled next to Haakon.
The earlier Nathan stirred, and his eyes fluttered.
Nathan murmured, “Hush, now.” The other’s eyes—his eyes—closed. “Trust your instincts. And Haakon. You are destiny.” He was certain about trusting Haakon, but not about the destiny part.
The sleeping Nathan stirred and muttered, “Who?”
Irony made him smile. “Who am I? Call me Ismael.” He stroked the other’s cheek with a knuckle. That seemed to soothe him, and soon he was snoring again.
Nathan jumped back to his starting time and place, in the entry hall.
Destiny. What they hell did that mean, anyway? Before this all started, he thought his destiny was to be a physicist. Then Charlotte told him Chicago Control had chosen him to be a Timekeeper agent. He’d even thought that was his destiny. Later, the committee with Haversham and the others said his destiny was to run the research lab where they met him.
All of those could be his destiny, or none of them. Destiny implied he had no choice. But he had free will. It wasn’t an illusion. He’d create his future, and destiny be damned.
The only thing he cared about was that Haakon be in that future.
He turned to the kitchen and the smell of freshly baked bread. A sandwich sounded good. He could wait forever if that’s what it took.
He’d just sliced the bread when light flashed in the entry hall and sonics keened. He knew that sound. Excitement chilled his gut as he ran to the doorway.
It was Haakon, facing away from him. He wore Reeboks, blue jeans, and a bulky sweatshirt. His tousled hair had grown out, into the dreadlocks he’d worn when they first met. He had the same broad shoulders and narrow hips as before.
When he called out, his voice was the sweetest sound Nathan had heard...well, ever. “Nathan? Are you here?”
“I’m here. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Haakon whirled, and his face exploded with joy. In seconds they embraced, arms gripping each other in a tight bear hug.
“Oh my god, my god. I thought I’d lost you.” Haakon pulled back and tears shone in his eyes.
Nathan’s throat tightened, and tears pooled in his eyes, too. “I knew you’d find me. I never doubted you. Ever.”
“Nor I, you.” He pulled back and looked around. “Nell sent me here.”
“Me too. God bless Nell. She’s an angel.” He hugged Haakon again, then they kissed. Nathan melted against Haakon’s sinewy muscles, his whiskers bristling against Nathan’s cheek, their tongues dancing in low embrace.
Nathan pulled back. “I’ve missed you. We’ve got so much to talk about.”
“I’ve missed you, too. It’s been nearly a year since you disappeared from London.”
“That long? I’ve been here about a month. It seemed like forever.” He pulled back and inspected his lover head to toe. “You look just as I remembered. You know, I went back and saw myself, sleeping next to you, right here. A year ago, and a lifetime ago.”
“You visited your past self? That’s tricky. I had a visit from my future self. I think, anyway.”
“What did he tell you? What’s our future look like?”
“He didn’t say. He just basically told me to look for my happiness. My bliss. And I found you.”
“I don’t care what my future holds as long as you’re in it.”
“I feel the same.” He squeezed Nathan’s hand. “You’re a brilliant scientist. I’m an adequate applied historian. Together, I’m sure we can work something out.”
Together. That sounded magical. “Together, our future belongs to us.”
“Exactly right.” He tipped his head. “Do I smell freshly baked bread?”
“Home made.”
“Our home is wherever we are together.”
Nathan knew he was right. Destiny was for losers. No matter what his future held, Timekeeper, scientist, or just being a normal guy, their future, their bliss, was in their mutual grasp. Complete at last, he led Haakon to kitchen and the bread of life.