The soft whir of air purifiers lent to the calm droll of Yumi’s office. Suspended in her immersion chair, Yumi’s eyes flit from article to article, post to post of anger, division, vitriol, and disdain. Tears welled as her mind followed the detailed paths winding in and out of the historical event she studied.
“Exit visualization.” The feed died. She wiped moisture from her eyelids, blew a slow breath out from puffed cheeks, and then dictated out loud: “Major navigational point, January Sixth, Twenty Twenty-One. Assault on United States Capitol, exactly one-thousand and forty days before the construction of the New Capitol House and one-thousand, sixty-six days before the demolition of the White House. Define Point on timeline as critical marker.” As she prepared herself to dive back into the violence of the early aughts, the gold bracelet on her wrist buzzed.
“Oh, thank the gods,” she said as she lifted the visor off her head and hung it over a hook on her desk. The room’s AI hummed a soft tone before it addressed her.
“Dr. Aiuchi, your appointment for treatment begins in twenty-nine minutes, thirty-three seconds. We recommend leaving in no less than two-minutes to arrive on time. Will you be returning for work?”
“No, I’m done for the day. Going through ancient Twitter and Facebook posts is exhausting.”
“Understood. I have notified Mr. Garfield of your imminent departure and cessation of work activities.”
“Thank you, Alice.”
“Have a good afternoon, Doctor.”
A green padlock icon blinked, and the door slid open. Yumi left her office and passed a coworker who shuffled up to another door labeled T.M.D.M.E.
“Hey Nathan, what are you guys up to?”
“Like you don’t already know,” he said. “I just got pulled out of lunch because you added a critical marker, so of course I have to recalibrate the damn thing before the lead runs another simulation.”
“Hey, be thankful you don’t have to live vicariously through proto-social media. Anyway, I’m heading out to my appointment. See you tomorrow.”
Nathan nodded his goodbye and passed through the door. Yumi’s finger brushed against the subdermal port as she pulled her red-and-purple-streaked hair behind her ear and her stomach turned at the anticipation of the treatment. Years of feeling the nanowires distribute anti-coagulant never got easier. She swallowed her anxiety, wove through various security checkpoints out of the building and hopped into a waiting travel pod.
***
“All done,” said a woman’s Russian-accented voice said as Yumi exhaled. Nanowires withdrew their metallic appendages from her skull and retreated into a mechanical arm attached to the plush chair she sat in.
“Thank you, government healthcare.”
“Someday, I’d like to know how someone young like you gets this kind of healthcare,” the nurse said as she slipped her hands into a sanitization receptacle.
“Unfortunately, Auntie Sam would be displeased I shared classified information. Even if it is boring.” Yumi stood and pulled on her sweater. Her bracelet buzzed, confirming it had placed her regular order at the coffee stand in the lobby. “See you in three months.”
“Do vstrechi,” the nurse said, then turned away and tended to the clear panel attached to the armrest.
Yumi made her way past the clear doors, curved architecture, and floating nameplate of the Naveed Rajani Medical Center. She plucked her chilled cup of coffee from automated cart and took a sip. The sweet, fragrant mix of spices danced with the bitter brew on her tongue and she moaned.
Someone bumped into her. She yelped and threw her arm out to catch herself on the shelf of the cart. The ice from her drink clattered across the floor with a crash echoing around the cavernous lobby.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” A man tentatively touched her sweater.
Yumi huffed, shook the drink off her hands and inhaled a deep breath. An ache pressed against her forehead as she turned and regarded the man in front of her. She met his apologetic Guinness brown eyes, and his face was stuck in a wince. His bronze skin contrasted with the white and grey décor walls around them. His eyes widened and his mouth hung ajar. She cocked her head to the side. Why the shocked face?
“I’m okay, thank you. My shoes need a wash, but you’re lucky they’re easy to clean.” The man continued to gawk. Yumi gave him a half smile—it wasn’t every day she left a man speechless. Maybe Pilates wasn’t such a waste of money. “Well? What are you going to do about my spilled coffee?”
The man blinked, straightened his shirt, and cleared his throat. “Can I get you a new one?”
“That’s a halfway decent start. What about my shoes?”
“I’m sure we can find a shoe shiner to take care of that for you,” he said with a playful smirk.
“A shoe shiner?” Yumi furrowed her brow, then she grinned. “Are you a history nerd?”
The man punctuated his nervous laugh with a shrug and scratched his neck. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Me too. Yumi Aiuchi,” she said as she extended her hand.
The man grasped it and returned the firm grip. “Kai Thomas.”
***
Kai set a steaming mug of black coffee down on the table. The sharp, burnt tang wafted its way into Yumi’s nostrils. Sleep pulled at her eyelids, but the enticement of the warm beverage put her arms into motion. Kai dragged his hand across her shoulders as he sat down next to her. She grasped his hand before he pulled it away and kissed his fingers.
“Thank you,” she said with a yawn.
He rubbed her forearm and leaned back into the chair, holding his own cup as he blew on its surface. “You’re welcome.”
A sharp pain pricked at the side of her head, and she grumbled and frowned. Her vision dimmed and lights danced in her peripheral. The moment passed. She sipped her coffee, and its ardent blend of flavors drew a satisfied sigh.
“I’ll never understand how you can drink it black,” Kai said.
She lifted a pointed finger and let out a long, quiet shush while shaking her head. “Let me savor this, please. My head is killing me. Literally.” Kai’s posture stiffened. He drummed his fingernails on his mug. “Relax, babe. It’s just a joke. I have my appointment today, I’ll be fine.” Kai bounced his leg and chewed the inside of his cheek.
“I know, I know. You’re right.”
Yumi slid her hand across his thigh and gave it a light squeeze. “Do you want to come with me?”
Kai stilled his knee. The last time he was that nervous was right before their first kiss. “I’d like that.”
He inhaled to say more, but Yumi shook her head and tapped her finger on her mug. She needed to finish her coffee first.
***
“See? Now I’m good as ever,” Yumi said.
Kai rolled his eyes and slung his arm around her shoulder. “Yes, thank you, you’re the braver of the two of us. We’ve known this since we found the mouse living at your sister’s house.”
Yumi laughed and held onto his hand as she led him to the coffee stand to pick up her celebratory drink.
“I think you hit a pitch only dogs and teenagers can hear with that shriek,” she said, and took a sip of her sweet concoction.
Kai kissed the top of her head. “Thank God for you though. That vermin could have gotten me at any time.”
“Hey now, Charles was a decent family man searching for food for his family. How dare you malign his actions?”
“A man, or mouse, who terrorizes others in search of his own ambitions deserves neither praise nor pity.” Kai took his arm off her shoulder and slipped his fingers between hers.
Yumi was about to return the banter when cries of alarm erupted outside. The high-pitched screech of twisting metal pulled their attention to the entrance. A travel pod crashed through the glass. Kai pushed her out of the way. Yumi hit the floor, watching in slow motion as the pod sailed over her and slammed into Kai.
She screamed.
The pod crushed Kai against the wall. Paramedic bots flooded the scene and set up an electrified boundary, and doctors within the building sprinted down the stairs. Yumi picked herself up and ran toward Kai. A paramedic wrapped his arms around her midsection and dragged her back as she cried and thrashed. The paramedic pressed a small device to her neck, and a sedative fogged her vision until everything went black.
***
“Welcome back, Dr. Aiuchi.”
Yumi blinked away her groggy, blurred vision. Sensation crept back into her palms as she pressed them into a soft cloth cushion. A woman a few decades her senior sat in an armchair in the middle of the dark room, her legs folded while her fingers flit across a glass tablet. She made a fist and the tablet shrank into a thin strip, which she wrapped around her wrist.
The woman met her eyes. “You gave us quite a scare.”
“Kai…” Yumi whispered. She pressed a hand to her lips to dam her grief, while the other clasped her shoulder. She could still feel Kai’s hand as he’d pushed her out of the way.
“We’re sorry to inform you that he expired at the scene. If it’s of any comfort, his death came without pain or suffering.”
Yumi clenched her jaw. Anger roiled in her belly, burning away the cold tendrils of grief. Of course. Leave it to government healthcare to give her an AI grief counselor. At least they were easy enough to trick.
“It is. Thank you. I would like to return to work as soon as possible,” she said. One-one-thousand. Exhale. Two-one-thousand. Inhale. Her heartrate returned to normal with her practiced breathing.
“Your bio signs show an elevated level of stress. Is that due to the events of this morning?”
“My job is very stressful.”
The projection shimmered briefly.
“Statement reads true. Are you able to return to duty uncompromised by the emotional trauma you’ve witnessed?”
“Yes.”
“One moment.”
The woman stood from the chair and paced around the room. Yumi continued measuring her breath.
“Confirmed. You have been approved to return to work on the condition you receive regular mental health monitoring sessions. Have a lovely afternoon, Dr. Aiuchi.”
Yumi pushed herself up and paced out the door. She shut it behind her, closed her eyes, and let the tears roll down her cheeks. Her breath shuddered. No time to grieve. Focus, Yumi. Get to work. Get the device. You can fix this. She straightened and checked the time. Nathan should be starting his lunch soon. That gave her enough time to get there and catch him. It would be a tight window. Her bracelet notified her that a pod was waiting to take her to work. She sprinted down and stopped. A pod killed Kai. Why did it—
It doesn’t matter, she thought. You can figure it out when you go back.
She eased herself into the cushioned vehicle and went over her plan on the ride there. Luckily, the city has halfway locked down, so the pod traveled faster than usual.
Back in her office, she hurried through security checks and rushed across the lab hallway. Her office waited directly ahead of her and the T.M.D.M.E workshop to her left. As expected, Nathan strolled through the door heading out of T.M.D.M.E. with his face plastered to an open book.
“Hey, Nathan. Weird question,” Yumi said.
Nathan looked over the top of his book. “Okay…”
“Do you mind letting me in to see how it works?”
Nathan dropped his hand and his eyes lit up. “Sure! It’s pretty cool, come on in.”
He approved Yumi as a consulting visitor and led her into the engineering department.
A male AI voice said, “Welcome to the Time Manipulation Device Mechanical Engineering department, Dr. Aiuki. Please follow all safety pro—”
Yumi skipped the tutorial and stood behind a wide glass window. On the other side, a watch with a large, circular face and a thin band rested on a stand. Several standing workstations were positioned around it, and an engineer with his back turned worked at a screen with scrolling code.
“Pretty wild, huh?” Nathan said. His beard crinkled as he smiled. “Centuries of technological advancement all boiled down to a simple wristwatch. A bit on the nose if you ask me, but I think H.G. Wells would approve.”
“Can I get closer?”
“No,” Nathan said. “Wish you could, but we have strict protocols on who can go down there.”
The man working at one of the stations headed up the stairs toward the viewing room. This is it. Yumi tensed her muscles. Nathan prattled about how simple creating a rift in time was, and the relatively small amount of energy it required.
“Mhm.”
The computer scanned the man’s credentials and the door opened. Yumi took her chance.
She sprinted at the man and drove her shoulder into his side. He cursed and tripped. Yumi took the stairs two at a time and rushed to the device. The man tumbled down the stairs. Alarms rang.
Nathan’s shrill voice came over the intercom. “Yumi what are you doing?”
“I have to save him,” she whispered. She made it to the stand, snatched up the watch, and wrapped it around her wrist.
“Yumi! You can’t do this!”
“I have to.”
She set the destination for two days earlier. The man she shoved past recovered and barreled toward her. Yumi backed away and her finger swiped up on the screen. A green button popped up, and she jabbed it with a finger. Nathan’s screams echoed. The man that dove at her froze in place with panicked eyes wide open.
Yumi’s vision swirled. Streaks of light and sound battered her mind. Her entire body compressed, as though a black hole opened in her chest and sucked her through the event horizon.
Then nothing. A void.
A pinprick of light winked in the distance and the world came crashing in on her. She was screaming, then dry heaving on her hands and knees. She vomited and the bile splashed on her hands. Her head spun and stars swam in her vision.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Fuck.”
Yumi sat up and closed her eyes, waiting for the nausea to pass. She opened them to a gritty cityscape. Steel-colored clouds loomed over haphazard rows of buildings; some had round, sculpted trimming and others sharp, minimal angles. An odd tower jutted out from the rest—the Space Needle? But that was demolished… No. This can’t be happening. She checked the watch. January 15, 2021.
“Two hundred years?!” Her shriek echoed in the alley.
“Shut up!” a disembodied voice yelled. A man huddled in a thick jacket stood up.
“Sorry,” she said. Why did I apologize? I’m the one trapped two hundred years in the past. “Wait, no, you shut up!” A bottle whizzed past her and shattered on the building to her side. She yelped and sprinted in the other direction.
“Take me back to my time now, please,” she said into the watch as she rounded the corner.
It buzzed in response. “Negative.”
“Take me back to January 18, twenty-two-hundred and twenty-one.”
“Unable to complete action. Restriction: Use limit reached.”
“What? No, no, no, no…”
She took it off, put it back on, turned it off, changed its settings; nothing worked. She slumped against a cold steel lamp post. The sun sank behind the city’s jagged silhouette and a chill breeze rolled through the streets. Cars—the kind she had only seen in history books—rolled past her in a loud, stinking, oppressive, and gaudy procession. She huddled into a fetal position and sobs shook her shoulders.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
Yumi lifted her head. Her eyes bulged. Kai stared back at her with the same concerned look she’d seen so many times before. Her lip trembled. He couldn’t be the same one. His hair was a little different and his eyes were a slightly darker shade. But it looked so much like him... but it was two hundred years too soon. She snapped her jaw shut, wiped the tears from her eyes, and stood.
“I’m okay, it’s just—” Her head ached, and she winced. “Sorry. Bad day, and I’m… um…” She looked around at the foreign city. Cracked concrete, somber buses, and tragic building fronts lined the desolate sidewalk. “A little lost.” Her voice bordered on cracking. She was going to die in the past.
“Hey, it’s alright,” he said. “Whatever’s happening, let me help. My name is Kai.” He offered his hand.
Same name, he must have been named after this ancestor. “Yumi.” They shook.
“It’s a little late for coffee, and I don’t want to seem presumptuous… It looks like you might need something stronger, anyway.”
“Desperately,” she said.
Kai’s radiant smile warmed her chest, but a pull of regret and sadness held her back from embracing it.
“There’s a great spot down the street. Bartender’s a friend of mine and pours with a heavy hand.”
Forgetting for a second she had no idea what that meant, his presence—and the memory of her Kai— overcame her hesitation.
“That sounds great.”
Kai tipped his head and led her down to the promised bar. A heavy hand turned out to mean a human—a real live person!—poured the measures of liquor into a drink at their discretion, and hers was indeed heavy. Yumi ordered the same rum and coke as Kai and coughed when she took a sip. Kai’s rumbling laughter lifted her spirits. They fell into a familiar rhythm of laughter, conversation, and flirtatious banter. She poked fun at his ill-fitting jacket; he parried with a quip about her bulky wristwatch.
“I’ll have you know this is the most advanced watch in human history,” she retorted, squinting one eye. She leaned over and almost slipped off her chair. She whooped and laughed, barely catching herself on the bar.
“My God, when was the last time you had a drink? You’ve barely made it into your second one.”
“It’s not just that. I have a condition that—“ Too much info. “You know what? It’s not important. Is there food here? I’m starving.”
Kai lifted a thick eyebrow. He seemed poised to ask about her more, but instead lifted two fingers to call his friend over.
“Nachos, please,” he said. He turned to Yumi. “Do you have objections to meat?”
“None. Give me that dead animal.”
“Add chicken,” Kai said with a chuckle. “Thanks, Jaz.”
“So why is this watch so advanced? Doesn’t look too special.”
“Well, if I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she said, and set her drink aside. She didn’t want the alcohol to dull this memory. If I’m going to die in three months I might as well make the best of it. Twenty-first century Kai nodded slowly.
“Okay, woman of mystery. Keep your secrets.”
Yumi leaned in and kissed him. Kai made a startled sound.
She pulled back. “I’m sorry—”
Kai placed his hand behind her neck and kissed her back. A longing heat rose within her when his lips touched hers and silenced the fear gnawing at her chest—if only for a moment. She pulled away, but only far enough to let her forehead rest against his. She bit her lip.
“Where do you live?” she asked.
Kai made a sheepish chuckle. “Jaz, I’ll take those nachos to-go.”
***
Time, mutable as it is, blended the hours, days, and weeks together. The differences between 2221 and 2021 were stark in some ways and nonexistent in others. Their relationship blossomed quicker than it had in the future. So much time spent with traveling and waiting for things gave Yumi an avenue to ask more questions, answer her own, and to learn how to savor the in-between. She used her knowledge of history to advise Kai on investments—or say things that brought out that look of consternation and confusion she adored.
“Batteries? Seriously?” Kai said. “I mean, every one of my friends is saying crypto currency.”
“Trust me,” she replied, laughing. “You want to bet on energy.”
But time’s steps, however fast or slow they go, plod ever onward. Yumi’s headaches worsened. Panic wound its way into her heart. Whenever Kai asked, she would simply shake her head and say she needed more sleep and some water.
When Kai went to work, she filled the idle time absorbing sunsets, watching the rays of the sun dance across the water of Puget Sound, sparkling off the tips of the ebbing water. She sat near the piers and waterfronts, letting her skin absorb the salt and humidity of the coast that would sink away in just a matter of years. The stench of gasoline, smoke, and mingled spices from mixed cuisines shifted from nauseating to enthralling. Each passing day revealed how sterile the future had become. Yes, she could travel the thirty miles from work to her home in less than ten minutes, but could she appreciate the grandeur of humanity’s accomplishments? When could she drag her fingers down the rough, weathered wood of a hand-carved chair or listen to the soulful melodies of a busker in the market?
The dreaded morning came; she woke with searing pain in her head. She cried out and bolted up in bed. Kai startled and leapt up with her. It was time.
“What is it, what’s going on?”
“Kai, I don’t have a lot of time.” Fire radiated out from the port in her head and slithered across to the other side. “This condition I have requires a treatment every three months.”
“Three months? But…” His eyes widened as he did the math. He threw the covers off and started grabbing clothes off the floor. “Where do we need to go? I’ll take you.”
“Kai. The treatment doesn’t exist yet,” she said.
“What do you mean? How have you been—”
“I’m from the future.”
“This isn’t funny, Yumi.” Kai pulled on a shirt. “Do we need to go Harborview? Where—”
“I’m not lying, Kai. Grab my watch.”
“Your watch? What the f—”
Yumi cried out and gripped the side of her head. “My watch. It’s proof. Ask it a question about the future and if I added it to the database it’ll know the answer.”
“Okay, honestly, Yumi this joke is going too far.” Kai put his hands on his hips.
Yumi stood, laboring to control her legs. She stumbled and Kai caught her.
“I should have told you sooner. I never got to tell you I love you. I’m sorry.” She caressed his face. Her eye twitched, blood flooded her sclera, and she went limp.
“Yumi?” Kai shook her. He yelled her name again. He lifted her up, grabbed his phone, and called for an ambulance.
***
“I understand you brought this woman in?”
“Yes,” he said. He stood and extended his hand. “Kai Thomas.”
“I’m Dr. Rajani. Let’s have a seat.” The doctor’s somber tone and quiet voice spiked Kai’s heartbeat.
He eased himself back down. “She’s…”
“I’m afraid she was dead on arrival.”
Nausea twisted his stomach. He stared at the cup in his hand. A droplet fell on the plastic lid.
“I’m very sorry for your loss.” The doctor hesitated. “Forgive me, as I know you’re still processing this information, but I found a few… abnormalities.”
“Abnormalities?”
“Yes. For example, her X-ray showed some kind of implant in her head. One I’ve never seen nor heard of. We found no medical records—or any other records. I’m hoping you can fill in the blanks for me.”
“No, she—” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “She mentioned she had a condition that needed regular treatment, but that’s it. I… need to go.” Kai stood and ignored the doctor’s objections. He stormed out of the emergency room and drove back to his apartment.
He went to the nightstand and pulled Yumi’s watch out of the drawer. He placed the face on his wrist and the straps adjusted themselves before he could move them. He felt a buzz, and a voice sounded in his head.
“TMD active. New user recognized.”
“She was telling the truth,” he whispered. He cleared his throat. “When was this last used?”
“March twenty-third, Twenty-two hundred and twenty-one.”
“Take me to three months and a day before then.” The day before they met.
“Confirmed.”
Electricity shot its way up Kai’s arm and he fainted.
***
“Travel completed.”
The voice in Kai’s head nudged him to consciousness. He rolled to his side and vomited, then eased himself onto his hands and knees and swallowed the rest of his nausea. He lifted his head and gasped. Circular, smooth white buildings streaked with dark blue glass pierced the sky. The street was lined with tracks; round pods whizzed past him at speeds he’d only seen on racetracks. He walked out of the alley and onto a moving walkway that leading to a short landing of stairs.
“Check the investments of Kai Thomas,” he said to the AI. The watched beeped and his eyes bulged at the number on the watch’s face. “Thank God I trusted her. Where am I?”
“You are at the Naveed Rajani Medical Center.”
“Hot damn.”
Kai hopped up the stairs and passed through the doors into a lobby. A woman appeared and followed him as he walked, asking if he needed assistance. He tried to shake her hand, but his fingers passed right through the projection.
“Unreal…” he gawked at the open space with pristine white marble walls.
As he was backing up, turning and admiring the architecture, he bumped into someone. The crash of ice hitting marble echoed in the cavernous lobby.