Chura yelled out, “Aunt Danetta! You have one minute!”

I was lucky; my grip on Danetta’s hand was loose enough that she didn’t take me down with her. I stopped and turned to help her, knowing well that leaving someone behind would be worse than being left behind. Had I deserted her, I never would have worked again, so I was bound by selfish duty. I heard fast footsteps cross the road, then thump down the trail toward us.

It was Chura. “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked. “Go back and step right now. We can be rescued if it comes to that.”

“No way we’re stepping without you. Besides, she’s broke.”

My eyes widened. “What? But you showed me all the proper docs, and your cred looked good.”

“Faked,” Danetta said. She propped herself onto her elbows. “We spent our last money on this trip, Falcon. If we don’t make that jump, then we don’t make it back, period. No daring rescues for the rich this time. Please, don’t tell my sister.”

“Shit. Give me a hand, kid.”

“I’m trying!” We each grabbed one of Danetta’s arms and pulled her to her feet.

She grunted and threw her arms over our shoulders. The going was flat now, so Danetta was able to move her feet enough to keep us from dragging her. Chethra made no move toward us, instead remaining steadfast near the exit point. Oddly, although she was the only person who had followed my instructions, I was angry enough to slap her.

Chethra called out, one shoulder in the azaleas, “Chura! Just leave them and come on. You can still make it!”

“No, Mom! We’re all going, or nobody is.”

We ran, leaving Danetta’s feet dragging. I felt like my heart and my lungs were fighting for space inside my chest. We reached the road. I held up my arm to check my watch. Ten seconds.

Chethra was halfway into the azaleas now. “Come on, Chura, come on!”

“Shut up, Mom! Aunt Danetta, please!”

From somewhere, Danetta found strength and pumped her legs right along with us. We reached the other side and dashed into the exit window. For 50 percent of a second, all was black. Then, everything turned white.

Standing there inside the machine chamber’s sterile yet strangely welcoming presence, I heard my pulse in my ears. My thigh muscles burned. Danetta and Chura lay, barely stirring, on the floor in their respective chambers. Chethra exited hers and headed for Chura’s. I glanced up at the vitals screen; everybody looked stressed, but fine. I sat to rest and catch my breath.

My mind recalled the smell of azaleas, and before thinking I looked down for petals on my shirt. Nothing. Only the DNA that went out could come back. Many passengers had tried bringing back pinecones, leaves, pebbles, a capsule of water, only to find themselves empty-handed on their return.

Likewise, everything that left had to return. The machine had a full inventory, and it was my job to report anything missing. Era contamination was not something the law took lightly. “Chethra, please return to your chamber now,” I said.

“But she’s my daughter.”

“The vitals say she’s fine. Just winded. Go back so we can inventory.”

She sighed and turned back.

Chura sat up and watched her, then turned to check on her aunt. “Aunt Danetta? You okay?”

“Yes. Exhausted, but okay.” She pulled herself up and stood, then leaned down to sweep off her pants. “Whoa. I heard that you couldn’t bring anything back, but I sure feel like I should dust myself off.”

“Sorry, protocols don’t even allow dirt.” I stepped out of my chamber and walked slowly to the display. I moved the vitals over and pulled up inventory. “Dammit,” I said.

“What is it?” Chethra asked.

“Somebody’s missing something. A sheet of toilet paper.”

“Nice work, Danetta,” Chethra said.

“They aren’t going to arrest me for that, are they?” she asked. “I’m sure people from that era left toilet paper in the forest from time to time.”

“Yes, but it was based on wood pulp. Yours wasn’t,” I said. “And, no matter what it is, I’m supposed to report any variances.”

“Mr. — I mean, Falcon. Please don’t do that. We can’t afford even the smallest fee for legal process right now.”

I wished they had not picked me for this trip. Typically, only the wealthy can afford time travel, and everything about Danetta Sherril had screamed “rich bitch.” For something so minor, I generally could make it disappear without any worries — for a nominal fee. This time, however, it seemed like bribes were out.

“You’re lucky I like the kid,” I said. “Don’t worry about the leftback item. I’ll take care of it.”

They all thanked me and said they would remember the name Falcon. “That’s why I still use it,” I said.

——-

When I walked onto the balcony, my demeanor changed. I was back in my own time, my own city, where puny ornamental trees protruded from sidewalks and nearly 50 percent of the pedestrians wore oxygen masks. It had treated me as well as a shrine to the God of concrete could, but it always took me a while to get accustomed to it after a jump that far in the past. I hopped onto my skyporter and flew home.

There it was, where I left it, my family’s apartment building. The courts had awarded us the entire property after a jury agreed that the owners were negligent to build without proper power for impact absorption shields. Unfortunately, my older brother still controlled it. I parked my skyporter, at the same balcony where I earned my nickname, and went inside.

“Replays, please,” I said.

The screen in the kitchen came on. National newscaster. “We turn now to the President, who visited the Buffalo National River today. Locals are gearing up in anticipation of protests to his proposed extension of the river’s protected status. The President spoke about his plans.”

Oar in his hand, lifejacket on, the President turned to the camera. “This became our first national river back in 1972, when President Nixon signed the legislation creating it. I intend for it to stay protected. We’re losing our natural places at an alarming rate.”

My mouth dropped open. The Buffalo National what? There it was, the presidential canoe, floating along the clear, fast-moving waters I thought I had just left hundreds of years behind me. “Dammit.”

I thought of what Danetta could have done. She was fumbling around with her pack when I found her on the trail. The machine said all she left was a sheet of toilet paper. I thought I knew exactly what she had done, but I needed to see more detail in that report.

“Display inventory report from today’s jump.”

The report replaced the newscaster. I looked over it again, but found nothing new.

“Detailed report.” I pored over the resulting screen.

There it was. She had taken a pen, an old writing implement based on ancient technology, and now used mostly by the poor. She brought it back with a tiny amount of ink gone — just enough to write a note on a small sheet.

“Contact Danetta Sherril,” I said.

“I’m sorry, Danetta Sherril not found in the directory.” said the computer.

Damn fake names. “Search private contacts.”

“Thank you. Contacting Danetta Sherril.” I was glad I paid a little extra for the sexy voice. Anything the computer said, she seemed to be asking me to take off my clothes.

“Hello?” came the voice from my walls.

“Danetta?”

“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong person.”

“Put me on your display,” I said.

“Oh, it’s you. Why are you contacting me, Falcon?” Her face faded onto my screen.

“I see that the President is on the Buffalo River today.”

“Nice, isn’t it?”

“No, it isn’t nice, Danetta. You tricked me. That’s supposed to be a dried-up lake by now, and a rock quarry.” The canyon surrounding the river had quite a storied past.

“Yes, but we just skipped all that part and look at it now. You know, there are other national rivers, too.”

“What?”

“That’s right. I checked it the moment I got home. It seems that the decade after we visited that area was very good to rivers, indeed.”

“What did you write on your little note?”

“Oh, you figured that out quickly, didn’t you? I read all about it. It wasn’t so much what I wrote, but the material I wrote it on. It seems that my note is in a museum. Dr. Neil Compton, who found it, already had been fighting to save the river, and when he slipped my note to the president’s staff, they analyzed it. Because my words claimed I was from the future, they wanted to know everything they could about the note. When they found it was made of a material uknown to any government scientists and independent labs, they marked it legitimate.”

“Unbelievable.” She had used me so perfectly and completely that I admired her as much as I despised her.

“Yes. It really, umm… sweeps, doesn’t it?”

“Right,” I said. It reminded me of Chura. Had she been in on it? Was her apparent interest in the Jeep just a diversion? “I need some time to take all this in,” I said.

“It’s a joyous time to be alive!”

“Terminate connection.”

Played. Had. Misled. Duped. Taken in. Deceived. Led astray.

“Shit.” I fixed a drink. Scotch. Neat.

“Access core library. Creation of Buffalo National River.”

It was all there, just as Danetta said. A conservationist had found her note and used it in his ongoing battle to keep the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers from damming the river. He had been making headway since his group’s efforts started in the 1950’s, but after 1970 his efforts really took off.”

“Access note found by Neil Compton, 1970.”

I couldn’t believe it. There, in what obviously was Danetta’s handwriting, was a note she had written less than an hour ago. It was preserved under glass in the World Conservation Museum.

There was a knock at my door.

“Display front door.”

A man and a woman, neatly dressed, stood still with their hands clasped in front of them. I rarely took visitors. Soliciting was illegal. Who could they be?

“Yes?” I asked.

“Hello, Mr. Plotz. Bill Plotz?”

“I don’t usually answer to anything until I know who’s asking.”

“Agents Glock and Speel, Time Code Enforcement. We have a warrant.” He press a plasti against the reader by my front door.

“Display front door plasti data.”

I didn’t recognize most of the words, but I know that it said I had to let them come in.

(continue to Part 4)