Cold-Blooded: A DC Universe Fanfiction (#Wattys2015)

Chapter 4: Nora Fries: Upon Waking

Victor recoiled as though she had struck him.

"I'm sorry!" Nora cried out, (although it came out sounding more like 'Ahm sawwy'), "Wha's wrong?"

"Finding the cure took… a long time," he said, simply. "And there were…unforeseen complications."

Whatever those unforeseen complications were, they had to be bad. "How long?"

"It's the year 2013," her husband admitted.

It was not possible. It simply wasn't. Yesterday it had been 1984, and she and Victor were only thirty-two, with all the best part of their lives yet to come, their own home and their children and the Nobel Prize and… Anyhow, he couldn't be sixty-two, that was older than her father, and he didn't look more than fifty or so and she wouldn't let him be that old, and...

Wrenching her mind away from that spiral down into hysteria, she instead forced a bright smile on her face and a cheerful tone into her voice, as she had so often done during her illness, and said, "Wow, 2013—I guess that means we're all living in the future now? Are there flying cars now and robot maids, like on 'The Jetsons'?"

"Flying cars? Only a few, and their use is mainly restricted to costumed adventurers. Frankly, the average American driver is dangerous enough at ground level without adding the ability to leave the ground. Robot maids? No. The few robots intended for household use are small, simple devices. Self-propelling vacuum cleaners, for example. The real developments have been in the world of computers," Victor explained, in his element now.

Talking about science had always been so much easier for him, which made all forms of social interaction awkward, but she'd loved him all the more for being so sweet and goofy and clueless and him. He'd been this nutty professor in training—except he wasn't in training anymore.

"You'll recall how huge the mainframe supercomputer at the University was, how it occupied several rooms. At that time, we were only just beginning to form a computer network among similar institutions to share information. These days, a device with hundreds of times the memory, the processing power, and the speed of that mainframe is small enough to hold in your hand. Not to mention that it can also take pictures and send text messages around the world. Here, in your bedside table—this is for you. It's loaded with a tutorial program to teach you how to use it. "

He pulled open a drawer, removed a slim box, and handed it to her. "Apple I-Pad Air," she read, looking at the package. "16 GB—uh, wow. I have no idea what all that means, but—where are my mom and dad? And Michelle?"

Wrong thing to ask. "Your father died in 1997, your mother in 2001. Your sister Michelle was invited, but she was skeptical about the chances of success, and she and I have not kept in touch over the years. I'm sure if you contact her yourself..." He let it trail off.

"Oh. Okay." Brightness, lighthearted, smiling. Victor hurt so much already, she could see that, and she would not, could not make it worse for him. "So—tell me more about the world of 2013. I guess the Soviets never dropped the bomb. What else has happened?"

"There is no Soviet Union any longer. In 1991, it dissolved back into separate countries. The world still has problems, however—neither notably better nor worse, simply different. China has risen in prominence and power, but their base is economic rather than military. The current President of the United States is Barack Obama—.

She interrupted with a laugh. "Barack Obama? What kind of a name is that?"

"African-American." Victor replied.

"African-Ame—are you saying the President, the President of the United States, is black?"

"Yes. He is."