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Timebound(65)

By:Rysa Walker


The carpeted hall that I remembered from my previous visit had been replaced by a large vaulted atrium with polished stone floors and an arched entranceway leading to the main chapel. The morning sun beamed down on an immense white marble fountain in the center. On the left side of the atrium was a café, where several dozen people were chatting over coffee and muffins, and to the right, a Cyrist bookstore.

Trey and I wandered toward the bookstore entrance, where inspirational paperbacks by prominent Cyrist authors lined the shelves, along with a variety of Cyrist CDs and DVDs, T-shirts, and assorted souvenirs. Conwell’s latest book, Faith and The Way: Five Steps to Financial Freedom, was featured in the main display. His bronzed face, with its long, aquiline nose, was a rather stark contrast to the carefully manicured silver hair and prominent white teeth. The combination had the odd effect of making him look both older and younger than the age of forty-seven that I remembered from his online biography.

A CD cover near the book display caught my eye and I tugged on Trey’s sleeve. “That’s it—that’s what was on his T-shirt!” I whispered.

“Whose T-shirt?” he asked.

“On the Metro. Simon—the guy who took my backpack. It was really faded, but I’m sure that was the band logo.” I picked up the CD and examined the cover more closely. In the center was an image of an eye, with the lotus from the Cyrist symbol superimposed over the pupil. “I don’t know the band, though—Aspire? Have you heard of them?”

Trey raised his eyebrows. “Uh, yeah. You mean you haven’t? They’re not really my kind of music, but you couldn’t turn on the radio without hearing one of their songs last year.”

I gave him a weak grin. “Not in my last year. So another one for our list, I guess.” We kept a running tally of the differences in the pop culture of the new timeline. Connor’s computer program had tracked down the new political leaders that emerged after the shift (about a dozen) and had noted the general shifts in economic power and other things that could be viewed in terms of the numbers, but he and Katherine weren’t really the type to keep up with the latest trends in music and entertainment. There were at least a dozen blockbuster movies from the past decade or so that I should have remembered but had never heard of, and several new-to-me celebrities and authors who all happened to be Cyrists. Going farther back, Trey had introduced me to a handful of “classics” that I was pretty sure you wouldn’t have found on the reading list for any Western civ course before the last time shift.

“I think Aspire won a Grammy last year or maybe the one before,” he added. “I wouldn’t have said they were religious music, but then I can’t say I’ve listened very closely to the lyrics.”

A guy about our age walked over from behind the counter and asked if he could help us.

“No thanks,” Trey said. “Just browsing for a few minutes before the services begin.”

The guy, whose name tag identified him as Sean, glanced at the CD in my hand. “Are you fans?” he asked.

Trey shook his head, but I nodded and gave him my best smile. “I really like the new album. I heard some tracks online.” I placed the CD back in the display. “I may come get this after the service.”

Sean reached out and straightened the CD on the rack, although it really didn’t look crooked to me. “Did you see them when they were here?”

I must have looked confused, because he glanced down at my hand, probably scanning for the lotus tattoo. “Oh, no,” I said. “I’m not a member—yet. I’ve only been here once before and this is Trey’s first time.”

His smile brightened. “Welcome! We’re always happy to have visitors.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and hit a button, then put it away again. “Yeah, Aspire was here about three months ago. It was members-only, otherwise we’d have had a mob scene. And even so, the auditorium was packed; you could hardly find a spot to stand.” He stuck out his hand in Trey’s direction. “What was your name again? I’m Sean.”

Trey shook his hand. “I’m Trey, and this is K—” He paused for a split second and pretended to clear his throat, before continuing. “This is Kelly.”

I wasn’t sure why he’d used his own name and opted to give me an alias, but it looked like I would be Kelly for the rest of the morning. “Hi, Sean,” I said. “It was nice to meet you. Maybe we’ll see you later.”

I pulled slightly at Trey’s elbow to move us toward the main chapel, but Sean took hold of my other arm. “I’ll turn you over to the Acolytes who are on visitors duty this month. They’re on their way over now. They’ll be happy to answer any questions you have and point you toward some of our social activities. You’re actually in luck if you can stick around a bit, because there’s an Acolytes lunch in the Youth Center just after the service this morning.”