Timebound(47)

Connor had come in around twelve thirty, while I was watching the journal entries. He hadn’t said anything—just grabbed a fork and a plastic container of some sort from the fridge—so I assumed that lunch, like breakfast, would be just me and Daphne.

There were several other plastic containers in the fridge, but I had no idea what they were or how long they’d been there. I poured a glass of milk and began to forage through the pantry, eventually coming up with bread and peanut butter. The peanut butter was smooth, rather than the extra chunky I prefer, and there was no jelly other than mint (yuck), so I sliced a banana on top of the peanut butter and switched the journal back on, watching while I ate.

The last entry in the diary was dated April 27th at 0217 hours. When Katherine reappeared on the screen, I drew in a sharp breath, nearly choking on a bit of sandwich.

She had taken off the jacket and was wearing only the blue sleeveless shell. Her hair, which had been pinned up neatly before, was in disarray. The necklace was gone, and the angry red line around her throat made me suspect that it had been ripped from her neck. Her lower lip was split, and she held a small white pad against her right cheek, which was swollen. When she spoke, her voice was small and flat.


Saul knows—I mean, he knows that I know. I didn’t even get to the part about the baby—I didn’t dare, not when he was screaming at me that way. Maybe I should have started with that part… maybe he wouldn’t have—but, no. I don’t want him to know about the baby. Not now.

I think… I think he’s gone crazy. I’ve never seen him like this… so angry.


Tears were pouring down her face and she stopped to collect herself before continuing. The traveling bag I had seen on the bed in an earlier video was neatly packed, but the rest of the room had been trashed. A large tube-shaped object that might have been some sort of lamp was shattered and the painting that had hung above the bed was now on the floor, with a huge rip in the center of the canvas.


When I told him that we needed to just go to Angelo and tell him before someone else discovered the same violations that I had, he began raving that I didn’t understand the good that CHRONOS could accomplish if we harnessed the tools that we had at our disposal to change history, instead of just studying what century after century of idiots had created through their mistakes and blundering. About how this was his destiny and that Campbell had shown him that people just needed a strong leader to help them create the world that could be and should be. He had a plan, he said—and he wasn’t going to let a bunch of academic fools at CHRONOS determine the fate of humanity.

And all the while, he kept hitting me. Saul never hit me before. Even when he was really angry, he would hit the wall or break something, but never…

I finally lied—I told him that he’d convinced me. That I loved him and we wouldn’t go to Angelo and maybe I could help him change things. Just to make him stop. But he got this cold look in his eyes. He didn’t believe me. And then he left.

I don’t know where he’s gone, but I’ve bolted the door. If he comes back, I’ll call building security. I’m going to try and get a few hours of sleep and then I’m going to CHRONOS Med so that they can… repair this.


She pulled the pad away from her swollen cheek and gently touched the area, wincing at the pressure. There was a small abrasion near the cheekbone.


I’ll tell them… something. I don’t know. Then I’m going to talk to Angelo. He usually gets there by eight when we have jumps scheduled.

But… I’m going to message him first. Tonight. And I’m going to copy Richard on the note. I’m scared of what Saul might do—and if something happens to me, somebody at CHRONOS needs to know why.


I had been so immersed in the journal that I didn’t realize Katherine was sitting across the table from me, a cup of tea and some apple slices in front of her. It was an odd sensation to look up from the younger, battered face in the video and see the older version, calmly sipping her tea.

“I just reached the part where Saul left,” I said. “What happened the next day? Could they really repair your face?”

Katherine laughed softly. “Yes. There were quite a few improvements in medical care, and a minor dermal injury like that was a pretty easy fix. If we were still in that era, I wouldn’t have these wrinkles at such a young age, either. That’s one—of several—medical advances that I’d love to have access to now.”

“Could they cure your cancer?” I asked.

Katherine nodded. “There has been a lot of progress in cancer research in the past few decades, but there will be much more about fifty years from now—assuming we can repair the timeline. If I was a patient in 2070, or even a bit earlier, my treatment would have been a fairly simple course of medication—they’d have caught it much earlier and it would be a bit like curing a difficult bacterial infection today. Instead, my body gets pumped full of much more dangerous chemicals and radiation. And they still miss the target.”