Flirting With Forever Gwyn Cready (best book series to read txt) 📖

Peter stole a glance at the locked case in the corner. A book, a scope and a box of lenses sat on a counter in front of a stool. The whole thing looked as if it belonged in a tent at some vil age fair, though he knew from firsthand experience how wel it worked. He looked at Mertons and with a loud, resigned sigh lowered himself into a chair.

“You’re right,” Peter said, nodding. “The risk is too great.

In any case, I’m sure it’s not as simple as traveling backward. The Guild may have standardized many things, but even they could not have standardized that.”

Mertons laughed. “Are you joking? Have you never heard the story? Wel , of course, you wouldn’t have, but it’s a good one. This is, oh, ten, fifteen years ago. A time accountant by the name of Robert DeLaney crashes a party at the university one night and meets the girl of his dreams. She professes a deep love for the work of a poet named John Keats. DeLaney, being a man of limitless determination though not ethics, quickly offers to introduce her. This is before the era of security cards and aura scans, of course.

He brings her to the Time Lab and sets her up at The Book of Years.” Mertons inclined his head toward the book in the locked display. “And just as I did with you, Peter, he opens the book to 1962.”

“That magical year that is the focal point of al time travel?”

“Yes. As I said, it is a mystery time scientists may never understand. DeLaney opens the box of spyglasses, and after checking whether she wants the pre- or postconsumptive Keats, begins to fashion the scope into a proper configuration. Being a romantic, she chooses postconsumptive, and DeLaney dutiful y selects the ‘141’

lens to get her the hundred and forty-one years she’l need to move from 1962 back to 1821, the year Keats happens to be dying in Rome. Then he sits her in front of the spyglass, turns for a moment to pontificate on the magnificent intricacies of time travel—you know the verbosity of some men when it comes to this topic—and when he turns back, the spyglass is on the chair and she’s gone.”

“She’s left on her own,” said Peter, who knew that once you had the right lens it was simply a matter of pointing it at the page in the book.

“Wel , that’s certainly what he assumes. And being the gentleman he is, he gives her a good thirty minutes to get her fil of Keats’s sentimental imagery and wheezy coughing. Then he refocuses the lens to snap her back, and

—lo and behold—nothing happens.

“He tries a second time and third time. Stil nothing. So he goes back to 1821 himself and takes the glass, for, of course, that’s the only way we know of to trigger a return on your own, though it’s less dependable, which is why the two-person method, with a traveler on one end and a lensman on the other, is preferred.”

Peter gave him a dry smile. “Or perhaps it’s preferred because it ensures the person who’s traveled stays where they’ve been sent until the Guild is sure the job has been done.”

Mertons cleared his throat. “In any case. DeLaney finds Keats, plasters on his chest and a flannel around his head, but no sign of the girl. And no matter what he does, he cannot induce Keats to confess any knowledge of having seen her. Stumped, DeLaney decides to wait there to see if she shows.

“But”—Mertons held up a finger—“at the same time, back in the lab, an early-rising col eague arrives, sees the case open and the lenses gone and cal s the director. The director rushes over and is just about to rouse the Executive Guild from their beds when DeLaney gives up and returns. Horrified at being caught, he explains the situation as wel as his motivation, hoping the confession, delivered in man-to-man tones, wil be enough to keep him from losing his job. Wel , DeLaney’s smart. The director laughs, certain the girl wil arrive eventual y, and even offers to give DeLaney the morning off in order to capitalize on the opportunity he’s set up for himself.”

Peter made a fastidious noise. “And?”

“And nineteen hours later, after much wringing of hands, examining of equipment and the utter implosion of the Guild, the girl