Twisted Time

41 - The tattoo

The university lab, 23:15, two weeks later

Dan studies the rows of numbers on her screen. No doubt: she has discovered something important. Unfortunately, it is beyond her to figure out what exactly the numbers are telling her. She craves to discuss the results with someone, aware she is on the brink of understanding and needs some unbiased input. But Buddy remains her only trustworthy confidant. Dan knows her fears are well-founded: her colleagues would declare her a cause for the madhouse if they found out about her new direction of research. And worst, she'd happily have shared this opinion only a fortnight ago.

Better to repeat the test series a fifth time. I can't risk an error. Dan sifts through her accumulated notes, scribbling a few additional remarks into the margin of the notebook. Since her nighttime adventure in the future, she prefers to work late at night, when she has the institute's lab to herself. During these lonesome sessions, she destroyed a package of cashew nuts one by one. They either burned to ash or were sent to parts unknown, one kernel at a time. Later, Dan repeated the experiment with kibbles, now abundant in her home. Paper clips followed, erasers and a coffee spoon left unattended on her desk by her assistant.

Her empirical approach to research is slow and too random, she needs a lot of test subjects for her experiments. Aware her office material would run out before she'd find viable answers to her questions, she scavenged through the local DIY store two days ago. Buddy enjoyed the expedition far more than waiting for Dan in the yard behind the institute. But they can be glad she is allowed to bring her dog to work at all. The border collie has already become a favourite with the students and the personnel though.

Dan closes the notebook and sifts through the drawer where she keeps her assorted treasure of inanimate guinea pigs, mainly nails, screws, and washers. In a secondhand shop, she bought several chipped tea and coffee mugs. Her results with these objects were mixed so far. Everything else would have been surprising. But the serial trials helped her to adjust the machine's settings and define basic parameters.

Now, she can send every object small enough to fit into her molecular animation chamber into the nirvana. She tracked each of her countless trial runs, and her meticulous recordings show several unexpected patterns. But while she is sure the objects travel to the past, the future, or a parallel dimension, the goal of her experiments reaches further. The actual challenge is to find out where they disappear to—and bring them back. Only then can she write a scientific paper and look for further funding.

In the meantime, she has to be careful with whom she shares her results. Her colleagues would believe she sniffed forbidden chemicals. If she is honest to herself, there is only one person she'd like to have aboard for this solo run.

Absentmindedly, she rubs her left forearm. More than a century of unwritten history separates her from Ric. The only way to contact her crush again is a working time machine. And to make things tricky, she has to invent one first. Dan sighs. She's walking in circles like a tiger longing for the freedom of the jungle in a restricting cage.

She rubs her tired eyes, yawning, and leaves the lab to fetch another cup of coffee. For a moment, her finger hovers over the light switch, but she still feels better to keep it on and to be able to return to a lit room. Especially if the lighting is stable and reliable. She's had her share of flickering bulbs.

The sterile white hallway leading to the recreation room is empty. Dan walks fast, not bothered as much anymore by the sound of her steps, interrupting the stillness of the building at night. The first week after her unusual night drive, she kept listening for voices or waited for the lights to go out. But now, she is over this primaeval fears. To the contrary, she enjoys the quietness of the rooms, far away from the daytime hustle.

Her working routine established again, it's easier to shove the thoughts of Ric and their adventure into a murky corner of her brain filled with other wishful memories. It's already been two weeks, and sometimes she wonders if she made up this special night in a fever haze. What's the probability of meeting a genuine time traveller? Zero or less. But yet...

In the recreation room, she turns on the lights and looks around. It's as empty as it should be and warmer than the lab. The afternoon sun heated the room through the big glass front, and the feeling of an early summer day still lingers in the functional piece. Dan opens the door to the patio and Buddy lopes in. "Hey girl, how are you? Time for a late dinner for you and coffee for me."

She shrugs out of her lab coat and pushes up the sleeves of her dark blue shirt. From the fridge, she pulls a can of dog food and refills the water bowl. "Here you go, bon appetite."

While the coffeemaker heats, she studies the fading bruises on her wrists. Their colour turned from purple to black, brown, yellow, and will disappear soon. Not so the silvery tattoo on her left forearm. The mysterious addition is still shiny and unwonted. She explores the tiny symbol with her fingertips, aware it isn't a real tattoo. Under her skin, the lines of the drawing seem almost firm, like thin wires. Also, her arm tingles at her touch, and warmth spreads from the small artwork through her skin. It's not unpleasant, but the fact she can't remember where and when she got the mark is disturbing.

During the last two weeks, Dan tried to reconstruct the events of the ominous night for a hundred times or more. She has come to accept her involvement in a time travel adventure. But she still is convinced the Chronos symbol wasn't on her arm that night. Dan remembers inspecting her collection of bruises while undressing before she slipped into the bathtub. No way she'd missed the hourglass.

"I fell asleep in the tub and found the drawing shortly after waking, so we agree?" Buddy lifts her head to give her one of these stares, her left ear folded down, and Dan smiles. "Yes, I know I'm repeating myself. But something happened while I slept, and I have no memory at all of it. You were there, you're the only witness. I really wish you could talk."

Instead of answering, the dog turns her attention to the open door. Dan follows her gaze to inspect the area lit by the glow from the windows. The patio is closed and can be only accessed from inside the institute.

"Have you heard anything?" She steps up to the glass panes, Buddy at her side, tail stiff and ears perked. But the yard is empty. With a shrug, she closes the door. The dog seems happy to return to her meal. Glad the coffeemaker finally signals its readiness with an electronic beep, she presses the button for a double espresso. The dark liquid dribbles into her big black mug with the yellow Star Wars logo. As usual, there's no milk left in the tiny fridge. By now, Dan is almost used to drink her coffee black. As long as it keeps her awake to finish her analysis, she won't complain.

"Right, Buddy, I have work for another hour. You can stay here if you like." She throws her lab coat over her arm, suppresses a yawn, and picks up the cup to return to her workplace. Before she reaches the door, the dog barks, and her coffee cup shatters on the floor, spraying her with hot liquid. Dan stares at the shards of her favourite cup when someone clears his throat behind her.

She freezes in her tracks, not daring to turn around. At this hour, no one is allowed in the lab except her collaborators, and they never stay this long.
Then a well-remembered voice tears her out of her paralysis. "I wish you a pleasant evening, Doctor Lent."

It's a voice she has been sure she will never hear again. Dan whirls around while excitement, hope, and the fear of disappointment flash conflicting feelings through her mind. Can this be true?

But there he cowers, complete with tousled dark hair and his trademark grin, wearing black jeans and a dark sweater, patting an excited Buddy.

"Hey Dan, do you have two unbroken cups? I need a strong coffee too. We both might have another long, adventurous night ahead. A time anomaly has been reported, and I could do with the help of my favourite special agent." A short whine from Buddy interrupts him. "Well, of my two preferred special agents, of course."

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[And so the story ends. Thanks for reading and voting if you have come so far. Now, there's only a shortish epilogue left. Stay tuned!

This is dedicated to linahanson - your help during this experiment was very much appreciated, and your comments brightened so many of my days...]