Making It Fit
Copyright 2009 by Henry Melton

"Kent!  Wake up.  Mr. Shaw!"  Tara Lassiter's voice was just patronizing enough that he snapped alert angry.

"I'm awake!"

"Then why didn't you answer my question?"

"Because I'm busy!"

She slapped the papers down on his desk.  "You asked for the energy figures.  Now you're too busy for them?"

Kent Shaw stood up from his computer.  He was tired, his clothes were rumpled from two days constant activity, and his brain was too fuzzy to think straight.

"I'll be right back."

Tara put her hands on her hips and began, "I don't work for you, Mister!  If you think...."

But he was already out the door. 

He had promised himself he wouldn't do it anymore, but he desperately needed sleep.

Another Kent Shaw passed him in the hall.  He strolled confidently, with a smile on his face, dressed in a crisp clean version of his grubby lab whites.

The chamber room was just around the corner.  He noted the time.

The controls had already been set up for him by his other version.  Rested, he was a nice guy.  All he had to do was sit in the reclined chair in the transparent glass bubble and press a button.

Without even an audible pop, he was five weeks ago.

He crawled off to one of the many unused sleeping rooms in the largely deserted complex and crashed, fully dressed, onto the bed.

###

Tara was enraged.  How dare he walk out on her?

"I don't work for you, Mister!  If you think I'm here just to run your busywork errands, you are sadly mistaken."

Dr. Kent Shaw, project lead, walked right back in and smiled.  "Of course I don't think that, Ms. Lassiter."

He picked up the energy analysis and ran his finger down the column.  "This is interesting, don't you think?"

She mentally shifted gears.  He's doing it again.  This was the third time he had abruptly changed from a slovenly grouch to being back on top of his game, practically instantaneously.

"What's interesting?"

"The correlation between the types of experiments and the energy consumption."

Tara leaned closer.  He turned the sheet around for her.

"Here.  The passive send-and-retrievals, where we just sent a camera back in time to photograph the clock, or the television -- those took hardly any energy at all.

"But the interactive ones, like the time Jerry sent the camera back to take his own picture five minutes earlier -- that one almost drained the capacitors.  And when you tried the same thing, the transfer never happened.

"In fact, none of your interactives have worked, have they?"

Tara snarled, "If you're implying that my methodology has been in any way at fault for those results, I'd like for you to spell it out!  You wrote the guidelines.  You programmed the transfers."

He held up his hand in peace.  "I see nothing different in any of the experiments.  That's my point.  Why would some succeed and some fail when the only difference was the experimenter?  Yet it's clear that a correlation exists."

Tara reluctantly looked over the numbers.  Others in the project had commented on erratic failures.  Bill Welch even grumbled about Shaw's golden touch.  She had chalked it up to experience.  Time transfer was his idea.  He had been on the project long before it had vanished under the military umbrella.

"Okay," she asked, "why do some people have better luck than others?"

He shrugged.  "It's too early to tell.  You've heard my theory before, but I have no proof."

She had.  "You don't think time-travel paradoxes are possible."

"Right.  Since I don't believe in them, my experiments tend to be 'safe'.  Other people," he nodded her way, "have personalities that tend to push the boundaries.  Your self-portrait experiment, for example.  If you'd seen the camera appear on schedule and take your picture, could you've resisted the impulse to send it back pointed in a different direction?"

Tara handed the papers back.  "That's ridiculous.  We need a technical reason for these erratic failures, and soon.  General Hershey won't take kindly to extending our budget if you tell him he can't go back in time and change the outcome of a battle."

###

Kent woke up again in the past.  He rubbed his eyes and sniffed at his rumpled clothes.

The clock read near midnight.  That was good.  The Kent Shaw native to this moment was hard at work in the lab, according to his records.  It was a good time to raid his official sleeping quarters for fresh clothes and put the duplicates into the laundry.  He inked a tally mark on his collar.  Theoretically, a set of clothes could be caught in a time loop.  He didn't want that to happen.  It could shut down his ability to get past-time rest.

Chores done, bathed and freshly dressed, he returned to the moment he had left.  His clipboard was still there on the table beside the computer.  He scanned the pages, refreshing his memory.  It was time for a meeting.

His co-workers, Tara, Jerry and Bill, stared at him as he entered the room.  They looked tired, as they should, having worked a dozen or so hours straight.  But Tara's eyes especially, glared at him.

"Hello, people.  Are we ready for today's review?"

She crossed her arms.  "Why should we bother?  I'm not in the mood to play silly games."

He frowned and set down his papers.  "What do you mean?"

Bill cleared his throat.  "Kent, we were supposed to discuss the protocols necessary to start sending people back in time.  It's clear that you've already worked that out.

"You've gone back -- several times.  Why don't you just tell us what needs to be done?"

Kent considered his response, and then asked, "Where did I mess up?"

Jerry Nemecheck laughed.  "We all suspected something.  According to the computers, you've been hard at work for nearly a hundred hours straight.  Yesterday, Bill mentioned that he'd just seen you in the chamber room, when I knew you were putting together that last simulation run.

"Then, five minutes ago, when Tara came in to remind us of the meeting, you stumbled out of the room like a zombie and she..."

"I said, 'I'll bet fifty bucks you walk right back into the room fully rested and wearing clean clothes.'  And you did just that.  What happened to the ink stain on your shirt pocket, Kent?"

He looked down.  The lab coat was clean, of course.

"I put the stained one into the laundry, five weeks ago, and stole a fresh one from myself."

Bill let out a gasp.  "So it's true!  I didn't quite believe it."

Kent sat down and spelled it out to them.

Tara asked, "So you've been pulling back-to-back shifts by sleeping in the past?"

He nodded.  "You're the one who said I had to work hard to meet the deadline."

Jerry nodded.  "I'd have done the same, if I'd thought about it.  Send me back.  I could really use some shut-eye!"

Tara added, "All of us.  It's the only way we're going to be ready by the presentation date."

Kent wavered under her challenging stare.  "Okay, but there are precautions.  I'll need to work out a schedule..."

Another Jerry Nemechek walked into the room, a rested one.  "I went first.  Kent, get out your private log book.  We'll have that schedule in no time."

Three tired scientists, the original Jerry especially, stared speechless as Jerry-2 and Kent scheduled available empty sleeping quarters in the past.  They were quickly done.

Jerry-2 said, "Come on to the chamber room."  He pointed at his other self.  With a big grin, he said, "You go first."

Kent coached them.  "I was at the facility at this point, and so was Bill, but if we keep to the schedule, no one will know anything.  Remember, the slightest chance of a paradox could cancel the whole rest trip.  Stay quiet and watch the corridors carefully."

Jerry sat down in the chair, and with the press of a button, vanished.

"I'm back."  Jerry-2 was now just Jerry, rested.

Bill raised a finger.  "I'll go next.  Only, don't expect me back before I leave."

He vanished from the chair, and then re-appeared ten seconds later.  He hopped up and smiled.  "That was the best night's sleep I've had in six months."

Kent nodded.  "Tara?"

She sat down in the chair.  Kent adjusted the settings and said, "Go."

She pressed the button.  Nothing happened.

Bill asked, "Did you go back and return at the same instant?"  Maybe the universe wouldn't let two copies of a person overlap in the same place and time, but he had no proof.  Two Jerry's had been un-nerving enough.

"No.  I didn't go back.  Nothing happened."

Kent was scanning the instruments.  "It was an energy drain again."

Jerry walked over and tapped the keys.  "I don't understand it.  Other than the destination time, everything is identical to the settings we used for Bill and me."

Tara sat stubbornly in the chair.  "Try it again."

"In a minute.  The system has to recharge."  Kent checked his log.  "Let's send you a day later.  Maybe someone was in the corridor at the wrong time."

Once the capacitor bank that took up the whole next room had recharged, Kent double-checked the settings and nodded.  Tara pushed the button, and then after a pause, she moved aside the glass and jumped out of the chair.

"Let me see those settings.  Nothing is working."

Jerry and Kent stood back while she worked over the instruments, comparing and recalculating.  Finally, after several minutes, she leaned back and growled, "Jerk!"

Kent timidly asked, "Who's a jerk?"

She waved at the computer screen.  "Him, it, the universe!  Look at all of you, bright and chipper -- all rested and eager to put in another dozen hours.

"I'm tired!"

"We can try again.  Set it forward another day."

She nodded and made the correction.

Kent could see her sag when, once again, nothing happened.

"Come on, Tara."  He went to help her out of the chair.  "You need sleep.  You have a bed here and now."

She hesitantly accepted his help and let him walk her to her corridor.  "We're ahead of schedule.  Get a good rest."

Tara nodded.  She put her hand on the knob.  "Go back to work.  I'll be okay."

He smiled and went back towards the labs.

###

Tara was hurt and angry.  Why her?

She opened the door to her little room.  It was hardly more than a place for bed, bath, and closet.

Kent Shaw was lounging on her bed, two pillows propped behind his back, reading a novel she'd brought with her to the project and never had time to open.

"Hello, Tara."

She was speechless.  Her flash of anger faded.  This wasn't the man she left a moment ago.

His hair was grayer, the face more relaxed, showing some smile lines.  And he was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans instead of the lab coat he always wore.

A gleam of silver flashed from a ring on his left hand as he held the book.

His smile grew as he watched her put the pieces together.

"When did you come from?" she asked.

"I can't tell you."

She nodded.  Minimize the information passed back and reduce the paradox potential.

"Why did you come here?"

He set the novel aside and tilted his head a little.  "You sent me back.  I always pay attention to what my wife tells me."

###

Ten hours later, Tara rejoined the researchers.  Kent looked up and smiled.  "You look rested.  Did you get enough sleep?"

She nodded.  For her it had been a day and a half.  The older Kent had insisted she get a nice long sleep before she strained her brain with too many questions.  He had a teapot steaming and her favorite tea of chamomile, valerian and mint already for her when she came out of her shower.

In spite of the preposterous claim that they were married, he tucked her off to bed without the slightest hint that he should join her.  She was asleep in an instant.

Eight hours later, she woke with a start.

Kent was holding up a robe.  "Time to relocate.  We're on a schedule."

Not even giving her time to get dressed, he led the way to the chamber room.

"You go first.  I'll meet you there a few seconds later."

"But it doesn't work for me!"  Tara protested.  The walk down the corridor, bare feet padding on the tile had woken her up a little, but she was still very confused.

"It will now."  He was confident.  "It was all a mental attitude thing.  That's changed."

How can you know how my mind works?  But when she pressed the button, he appeared to vanish.  She cleared the chair for him.

It had worked, this time.  He was right.

Kent smiled, "Now, we have time.  Let's get you back to your room."

It was the same room, but obviously at a time before she'd moved in.  Kent had planned ahead.  A hot breakfast tray was waiting, as was a change of clothes -- not her own, but in all the correct sizes and colors she would have chosen herself. 

After she ate and dressed, Kent fluffed the pillow and handed over her novel. 

"Today is for relaxing.  I can't tell you much.  I'm practically a mute.  Just save your breath and enjoy the day.  We'll get you back to the lab at the right time."

That didn't stop her from asking.  "When did we get married?  Did the project get renewed?  Did you solve the energy issue?"  He smiled patiently and put his finger to his lips.  "The answers will come, in time.  Now read your book."

She turned back to the pages, but the mystery in ink was much less perplexing than that ring she spied on his hand.  It belonged there, she could tell.  The skin was pale and indented under the metal, as if he'd worn it for a long time.

One night's sleep hadn't made up for the long days before.  She dozed off many times, and made little progress on the novel.  Kent had meals ready, and seemed content to watch her from his chair.  How many secrets were there in his head?  How many careless words would start a paradox that would cancel this idyll?  He just smiled back at her.  There was something in his eyes, but she couldn't decipher it.

When she woke the next morning, to the coolness of a kiss on her forehead, he said, "It's time to get you back to your original timeline.  After breakfast, of course."

###

Tara listened to Kent as he described their progress.  He looked so much younger.

"Bill has done some calculations that has blown a big hole in my paradox theory."

"Oh, what's that?"  She tried to get her mind back into the technical groove.

"He calculated the quantity of air that went back in time with him in the chamber.  As you can see, given the enclosed room and the diffusion rates, several million molecules had to have lingered near the chamber and been swept back in time again.

"It's a classic time-loop!  Some of those molecules were never pre-existent.  They were never created.  They just looped through the five weeks and now no longer exist."

Tara frowned at the figures.  "Are you sure?"

"We did tests.  Just ten minutes the first time.  Unless you buy the idea that some 'paradox prevention force' was sorting the air molecules in the air of the chamber room, it's pretty conclusive."

He pulled up a screen on the computer.  "Check this out.  We did three tests, at one minute, five minutes, and ten minutes.  Look at the energy figures."

Her eyes traced the rows of numbers.

"They follow the trend."

"Right!  At least on the molecular level, time-loop paradoxes are possible, but we pay for it in energy consumption."

Kent shook his head, pleased to be proved wrong.  "We've got far too much new ground to cover before the military review.  Are you rested?"

She nodded.  "Perfectly."

###

The project schedule was impossible, but with the three men on round-the-clock work shifts, and with her eighteen-hour shifts, they were spinning their wheels with great efficiency.

They could force gas molecules into a paradoxical state, but anything more organized blew the capacitor bank.

Tara had her own mystery to solve.  The next night, wedding ring Kent escorted her again to the past.  The 'bonus weekend' was much like the one before, but she spent less time napping.  They played chess, and she discovered that his past life was an open book.  He would chat for hours about anything that happened before the project.

He was just as eager to listen to her.  "I hadn't heard that one," he said more than once as she apologized for rambling on about her early years at Caltech.

Back in the lab, she was unable to mention the older Kent Shaw to anyone, especially not to his earlier version.  It was too risky.  The slightest misspoken sentence would send her rest time into the paradoxical.

Would I just cease to exist?  Certainly these memories would.

Perhaps it wasn't possible to say the wrong thing, but she wasn't willing to give up her new secret life, not for anything.

###

Tara's eyes were glazed, staring off at nothing, her head rested on her hand.  Kent sighed.  It's a shame she can't get the past-time sleep like the rest of us. 

"Do you have the projections?" he asked.

She blinked, and turned efficiently back to the computer screen.  "Ah, yes.  The differential is 3.7 gigajoules."

She shook her head.  "That's way too much.  Sorry."

"You aren't responsible for the laws of physics."

He smiled and she smiled back.  Her sharp tongue had vanished over the past few days.  Kent didn't know why, but he was grateful.  People change, he mused.  Certainly, the reality of time transfer had changed him. 

But if the meeting goes badly tomorrow, that will be the end of it.  If the military dropped the project, lack of money, and those pesky secrecy documents he had to sign would put him totally out of the time travel business.

A touch on his hand shook him out of his thoughts.

Tara said,  "It is time for lunch.  My brain is a little fuzzy.  How about you?"

"Fine."  He dropped his notepad on the table.  His calculations were degenerating into doodles anyway.  How to get the paradoxical state to encompass structured matter was elusive.  His brain seemed to be caught in a time loop of its own.

She walked beside him, towards the door.

"Kent?  Have you give much thought to your future -- once the project has been completed?"

He laughed.  "Not for a second.  I feel like I'll be trapped down here forever."

###

The older Kent met her in the corridor when she went off shift.  He motioned for silence, and then led her to the chamber room.

As the door closed behind them, he said.  "I've got a special treat planned."

Tara shook her head.  "I have to get some rest.  The general is coming tomorrow and I have to be prepared."

"You will be.  Trust me.  We'll only be gone a short while."

She melted under his coaxing smile.  She did trust him.  She had to.  He was the one with knowledge of the future.  And it wasn't hard at all to put aside her worries.

###

Seconds after Tara left to catch some sleep Kent felt his own energies sag.

"Jerry, I'm off to catch some zee's.  I'll be back in a minute."  His assistant nodded.

He checked the settings, and noted that the capacitor bank was still charging.  "One of me has been at it again, I see."  He checked his pocket logbook, but there was no entry there for this time.  "In the future then."

"I just hope I know what I'm doing."  He scribbled an entry into his notes and then vanished into the past.

###

Tara put down her pen and stuffed her notebook into the wide pocket of her lab coat.  The sound of Kent Shaw talking to the general gave her time to touch up her hair and straighten her shoulders.  She was on her feet to greet them.

"And this is the team."  Kent nodded to the group.  "Dr. Tara Lassiter, Dr. William Welch, Dr. Jerry Nemecheck, and of course me, Dr. Kent Shaw."

General Hershey did a double take when Kent introduced his other self.  "I don't understand."

The other Kent explained, "I thought a demonstration would be in order before we got into the details."  He moved to the transfer chair and sat down.  "I will be going back in time to meet you as you arrive."

Kent waved from the chair, pressed the button and vanished.

"And an hour ago, I got out of the chair, went to the security station and awaited your arrival."

The general was impressed.  Tara shot Kent a warm supportive smile as they went on to the conference room.  Unfortunately, that was the high point of the general's visit.

For the next few hours, Kent seemed to be apologizing.

"No, I'm sorry General, but the practical range of the time travel is limited to the day we first put the transfer station on-line.  We can't go back before it was created."

"I'm sorry if I gave you that impression, General Hershey.  We have not demonstrated the ability to change past history."

"While I agree, General, that a radio message seems like it would have no mass, and thus it might be possible to send a message back to change history, in practice it doesn't work.  Information alone could cause a paradox and that shuts down the transfer."

The general's face became sterner as the meeting progressed.

"It's an issue of money.  This facility, and even your electrical bill, isn't cheap.  I can't continue funding something this expensive without a hint of a real-world practical use.

"But you say that you can make paradoxes with gas particles?  I'll extend your funding another month.  Show me better results by then, or I will put this place in mothballs."

Kent nodded, feeling a surge of relief.

The door opened, and another Kent Shaw entered.  "I'll escort you to your car, General."

He watched the two men leave.  That was a good idea.  Let the last impression be as thought-provoking as the first.

Bill let out a long sigh.  "Squeaked by again.  I thought for sure we had lost the franchise."

Jerry nodded.  "Hershey didn't like being told what he couldn't do."

"I had no doubts," said Tara.  "I knew we would be renewed."

"Hmm.  Why?"  asked Kent.

She beamed at him, "Because of you."

Jerry raised an eyebrow.  Had he missed something in the past few mixed-up days.

She waved her hands, "You've brought something new into the world.  It's one of the great wish-fulfillments of all human history -- go back in time!  Even if we're not immediately successful, just the hint that we might be able to change our past mistakes is too great a prize."

He laughed.  "I thought that way, seventy million dollars, and seven layers of bureaucracy ago.  Several rounds of frowning overseers have dulled the excitement considerably.  Still, it's nice to hear someone say it."

Kent looked at his partners.  "For just a moment, the pressure is off.  How about an off-site meeting -- say some place to eat that's not our cafeteria?"

There were smiles.

Tara pushed her chair back.  "That's perfect.  The casino restaurant in Beatty isn't too far.  I'm dying for a steak.  Give me a minute to get changed."  And she was out the door.

Bill nodded.  "It appears the motion is approved."

###

The security guard was another of the crisply uniformed people who nodded and offered clipboards to sign.  Kent didn't recognize him.  He left the facility so infrequently that there was little interaction between the military keepers and the inmates.

Tara was bright-eyed and dressed in a flashy yellow dress.  They only had to wait five minutes for her.

"Do you mind if we take two cars?  I desperately need to make a shopping run to Las Vegas after we eat."

Kent nodded.  "Sure."  The Strip was only about a hundred and fifty miles away.

Tara invited him to drive with her.  She smiled and glanced over at him several times as they made their way towards Highway 95, and civilian soil.

"Kent, I've got a question for you.  I want you to think about it."

"Hmm.  Okay."

"Marry me."

"What!" 

It caught him completely by surprise.  He had expected a technical question.  But the pleasant tingle he had suppressed at working with a pretty young female came raging back to the surface.

"That's crazy!"  He laughed.  "What?  No dates, no build up, no romance.  Is this some new kind of zen-matrimony?  Don't aim, just shoot?"

She laughed with him.  "Something like that.  But think about it.  We've been in each other's hair for far longer than many engagements.  We've definitely seen the worst behaviors, the short fuses, and the grooming nightmares.

"Just think about all the pleasant surprises we would have waiting for us."

Kent shook his head.  "You don't know me."

"Yes I do.  Trust me on this.  I know a lot more about how you tick than you can possibly imagine.  We would be great together.  Marry me."

His brain was in a skid.  Caught unprepared, he couldn't get any traction on the idea.  Logic was out the window.  The only clear thought he could put together was right in front of him -- her face, smiling at him.  He liked that image.

He shook, as an unexpected chill had come over him. 

"Uh, okay.  Yes.  Why not?"

She took his hand and gave it a squeeze.  He caressed its warmth.  Maybe doubts would come, but they hadn't arrived yet.

Together, they leaned closer for a kiss.

Loud horns dopplered in from the side.  Kent only caught a glimpse of darkness before the eighteen-wheeler truck on Highway 95 clipped the driver's side of Tara's car and they went sailing off, rolling several times before coming to a stop in the desert dust.

###

The smell of gasoline and an insistent tug on his arm brought Kent back to the living.  Pain in his leg and the sharp sunlight in his eyes disoriented him.

Jerry pulled him through the shattered window.

"Tara?  Where's Tara?"

"Pinned."

###

She came to consciousness briefly as the growing collection of motorists struggled to pry the vehicle off her legs.  A dozen men managed to roll it free.  But no one dared move her.

"Kent?"

"I'm here Tara.  Just be still.  Help is on the way."

"My purse.  Get my purse."

He found it.  Weakly, she reached in and fished out a small box.  "Marry me, Kent.  Right now."

Inside was a matching pair of silver rings.  The sight of them hit him in the stomach.  He had to consciously remember the phrase, 'third finger, left hand', but he slipped the larger one on.  It fit perfectly.

She lifted her left hand slightly and he slipped hers into place.  His wife sagged slightly.  Her eyes closed.

"Tara, stay awake.  You've lost a lot of blood."

She smiled.  "Lousy honeymoon.  Should've...should've caught me when I was frisky."

Noise from an approaching helicopter caught his attention.  Looking down, her eyes were closed.

###

Kent's leg injury was minor.  With bandages and a cane, he parked himself beside her bed.  No one else existed.  Not the doctors, not Bill and Jerry.  He monitored her breathing as closely as the instruments on the shelf, tracing their green lines.

One leg up through her hipbone was shattered, but it was her head injury that was the prime concern.  Surgery relieved a growing hematoma.  Still, she didn't wake up.

"Kent?"  Jerry sat down beside him.

He only nodded.  Nothing seemed very real.  He watched her sheet rise and fall.

"I just wanted you to know that you don't need to come back to the lab.  The three of us are hard at work."

He blinked.  Something about that statement was wrong.

"Three?"

Jerry nodded vigorously, glancing at the open door.  "Right.  Bill and I, and our boss, are working round the clock, so you can take your time here and not worry about the project."

So, another Kent Shaw had come back to work -- back in time.

He gripped Jerry's arm.  "Did I... Did he say anything about Tara?"

Jerry's face dropped.  "Not a word.  He...doesn't even acknowledge the question.  It's security, I'm sure."

"Security.  Right."  Or I don't want to think about it.

Jerry patted his hand.  "So take your time.  Get well, take care of Tara for us."

"Jerry, you understand about the rings?"

He had been right there with him, at her side at the accident.

"I think I do."

"Tell the doctor, won't you.  I don't have a piece of paper that says we're married, and I'm catching some flack for staying here."  He stared at the floor as he fingered the ring on his hand.

Jerry nodded.  "I'll do that."

###

The next day, Tara's mother arrived from North Carolina.  Together they waited for her to wake up.  Three weeks later, she stopped breathing.

###

Kent walked the corridor alone.  He had no desire to return to work, but there was nowhere else for him to go.  Tara had blasted into his life, and left it a smoking ruin, all in the course of minutes.

He looked at his ring.  It had settled in for the long haul.  He twisted it, felt its hardness.  He doubted he would ever take it off.

Jerry called the hospital within hours of her death.  "The boss didn't show up for work today.  Did something happen?"

"Yes."  And Kent realized he had to go back, to pick up the research just hours after the accident.  He owed it to Bill and Jerry.  He owed it to Tara.  There'd be a funeral in North Carolina in a few days, but he had a lot to do before then.

What would happen if I didn't go back?  It would be a paradox, so that was impossible.  Even if he tried, it would still do nothing to stop the accident from happening.

Unless...

The possibility that Tara could be reborn drifted across his conscious mind like a faint scent of cactus on a breeze.  He paused, realizing he was standing just outside her room.  The door wasn't locked.  Other than the light haze of dust, her room was exactly the same as it had been when she walked out.  Work clothes were draped over a chair.  A dresser drawer was open.  A clothes hanger had been dropped on the floor.

A bulge in the pocket of her lab coat drew his attention.  It was a bound lab notebook.  He noted a scrawl.  "Dr. Shaw is being a jerk again."  The date was two months ago.  He sampled a couple of pages at random.

Reading the diary was like hearing her voice again. 

Maybe somewhere in here is the mystery of when she bought the rings, and why she decided to marry me.

The cadence of her words and the clothes she wore was like a touch of her spirit.

She's still alive back before the accident!  He even had an appointment to keep.  He'd never escorted General Hershey out of the building.

"I've got to see her again."  He had to find his own logbook.  It was time to make more time.

###

He paused at the doorway to the conference room.  He had combed his hair and put on a new lab coat.

Inside, he heard the general's voice, "I'll extend your funding another month.  Show me better results by then, or I will put this place in mothballs."

That was his cue.  He opened the door.  Tara looked up and dazzled him with a smile.  It took his breath away.

The others looked at him.  He had to say his line.  Forcing his expression to be neutral, he said, "I'll escort you to your car, General."

Tara tilted her head.  Her eyes switched back and forth between him and his earlier self -- taking in all the differences in a flash.

How much could he communicate in a smile?  I never even had a chance to say 'I love you'.  Courtship to disaster was over in seconds.  And he had said his one and only line.

The general walked in front of her, and he was compelled to turn away -- to play his role.

There's got to be a way to get her back!

###

Every step he took, as he walked silently with the general, a voice was screaming in his head, "Stop her!  Stop her now!"

Tara was going to get into her car in just minutes.  He was already in the past; all he had to do was change something. 

But intensive weeks of staying within the lines, making sure that he did nothing to cause a paradox had left its mark on him.  His mind raced, but he stayed in his groove, saying the parting words to the general and waiting for the car to drive off.

Taking a step in the direction of the conference room with the intent to change history was hard, but nothing stopped him.

Tara went to her room.  The rest of us went to the parking lot.

"Find her.  Say a word."

He opened the door to her room.  It was exactly the same.  She'd already come and gone.

He ran towards the security gate.  Just outside the glass door in the bright sunlight, he could see her yellow dress.  She was moving quickly toward the cars.

"Tara!"  He called, but she couldn't hear him.

"Dr. Shaw!"  The guard came quickly from behind his desk.  "Halt."

When he ignored the man in uniform, a second one appeared from somewhere and together they restrained him.

"Sir!  I just signed you out!  Please explain to me how you can be back inside when I just saw you leave."

He slumped when he saw both cars drive past.  It was too late.

###

It took four hours and several phone calls before the guards were convinced that seeing duplicates of the scientists was supposed to be a normal part of their duties and something they should not think about.

Kent waited for the arrival of Jerry and Bill.

Dirty and exhausted, Jerry was the first walk in.  He looked at Kent standing without a cane.  "You're back from the future.  How is Tara?"

Kent waited for Bill to join them.

"I'm back to keep the project on track.  We can talk about the job, but I won't be saying anything else.  The both of you should take a past-time couple of days off, starting now.  There will be three of us to do the job of four and we have a lot of ground to cover."

Twenty-four hours a day, for three weeks, they worked hard.  Kent noticed the times Jerry and Bill would whisper together, but he tried not to react. 

The day of Tara's death, he returned from his sleep time and was unable to force himself back to the lab.

It's too late.  They now had a solid theoretical basis for what could and what could not be accomplished with past time travel.  There was no magic involved, no Maxwell-like demons manipulating the molecules behind the scenes.  It was all spelled out in the equations.

"I'm sorry Tara," he whispered, "there's no way I can pull you out of this."

Kent checked out of the base and followed a half-dozen dirt roads in the desert, randomly following the urge to lose himself.

Thirst and the cold desert night finally drove him back.  There were a few things he had to take care of.

###

Tara's room was empty.  Someone had removed everything, even the bedding.

Mrs. Lassiter.  That made sense.  Efficient military minds.  Someone had collected her personal effects and delivered them to Tara's mother.

I really wanted that diary.  He should have taken care of that before.

He straightened up.  At least time travel was good for some things.  The book was still here yesterday.

###

He paced nervously in her room.  When was she due?  He knew the date, but not the exact time.  Her diary hadn't been that precise about this first meeting.

"I've got to settle down.  It'll do no good to be on edge."  Tara had been testy that day.  He had to avoid irritating her.

He picked up a novel from her dresser, stacked a couple of pillows behind his back and stretched out on the bed to read.  He had to get his mind distracted.

Ten minutes later, she opened the door.  She gasped.

He nodded,  "Hello, Tara."

His heart raced to see her again, but he put a clamp on his emotions.  Play it cool.  She's tired.

She was giving him the cold eye, examining him like a bug under a magnifying glass.

He smiled.

"When did you come from?"  she asked.

###

Kent felt at ease for the first time in ages.  He also felt a lot older.  How many months had his personal time line stretched as it wove in and out of the calendar?  He'd lost track.  It felt like years.

He read Tara's diary again, taking comfort from her few scribbled pages.  As each day with her in past-time came and went, he read new meaning into her words.

"I am fascinated by Kent's ring.  Where did it come from?"

"Me too, Tara.  I guess today's the day."

He hid the book and walked toward the lab.

Tara met him on the way.  Kent put his finger to his lips, and gestured toward the chamber room.

"I've got a special treat planned."

She frowned, "I have to get some rest.  The general is coming tomorrow and I have to be prepared."

"You will be.  Trust me.  We'll only be gone a short while."

She thawed, and nodded.  He set the controls and shortly the both of them were nearly two months into the past.

"Are you up for a road trip?"  he asked.

"I'll need to pack."

"No.  You're not even here yet.  We'll buy more clothes on the road."

With a previously forged entry in the security station's log to explain her presence, they checked out and headed for Las Vegas.

He noticed her watching him as they drove.  Living in the current moment was a skill he'd learned with effort.  It made living bearable.

His wife was there, breathing beside him.  What the future held was unimportant.  She was there.  She existed.

And she was happy.

Las Vegas announced itself in the distance with a pillar of light from one of the casinos.

"You've visited the Strip before?"  He knew she hadn't, from her diary.

"No.  I flew in, when I came here, but I didn't visit the sights."  They drove the lighted streets.

"They use as much electricity here as we do," he chuckled.

She put her hand on his arm.  "Pull over."

"What?"

"Just do it."

He found a close casino parking lot.  "Yes?"

She looked out the back window.  Then turned to face him.

"Kent, I know you said we were married, but that's only half true.  You may have married me, but I haven't married you yet."

He nodded, "Well, that's true."

"So let's do it here."  She pointed to the Little White Wedding Chapel down the street.

Kent looked it over, and then began laughing.

"What?"

He composed himself.  Or tried to.

"Well, you proposed the first time.  I guess it's not surprising you'd do it the second time."

She grinned, "Or vise versa."

"Right."  He looked again at the billboard.  "Okay, do you want to take advantage of their Drive-Thru wedding chapel?"

###

She didn't.  There was some shopping to do.  Tara was the one who spotted the rings.

"Those are the ones aren't they?  Kent, let me see your ring.  I want to see if that's the same one."

He held his hand back.  "No."

She looked puzzled.

"I don't want to risk it."

"Explain."

He hesitated, then explained in a low voice.  "We solved the gas paradox issue.  Gas molecules are so close to the quantum limits that they could tunnel easily.  So it really made no difference which gas molecules went back into the past, they were all identical anyway.

"It's different with structured matter.  The probability that a scrap of metal, for example, could tunnel-exchange with an identical piece is so low that it's impossible.

"If my ring accidentally touched its earlier version, silver atoms could scrape from one to the other, setting up a time loop.  It would throw this visit, all my visits with you, into the paradoxical.  I'm not going to risk it."

She read the grave expression on his face, and nodded.  "Right.  We won't get them close."  She picked up the little box and snapped it shut.

###

They married in the Crystal Chapel.  Kent arranged to have the photos held until he called for them.

"I know a better place for a honeymoon."  He told her.

They drove to the Furnace Creek Inn in Death Valley.  It was off-season and they had the place almost to themselves.  The third night there, relaxing beside the fireplace next to the hot-springs filled olympic-sized pool, Tara stared up at the brilliant stars overhead.

"This place is below sea level."

He nodded.  "About two hundred feet.  It gets even lower down by Badwater."

She wrapped her bathrobe a little tighter against the night chill.  "I think it bothers me."

"What?  Being below sea level?"

She nodded.  "It feels wrong somehow.  All that potential energy in the ocean, just a few hundred miles away, just aching to fill this place up."

"It doesn't work that way."

She shrugged.  "I guess I feel that way about being here in the past, too."

"Oh?"

"Yes."  She looked at him bashfully, the flames reflecting from her eyes.  "I feel like I ought to be back there at the lab, with the clueless Kent, trying to figure out how to get him interested in me."

"I wouldn't worry about that.  I'm easy."

"I'm not so sure."

"I am.  I was never so shocked as when you proposed to me."

"Oh?"

"Not because you proposed, but because I accepted so quickly.  I think I must've been waiting for you to make the first move."

"Should you be telling me this?"

"Why not?  It won't make any difference."  He turned away to stare at the fire.  He could tell her.  Maybe she would understand.

But if she avoided the accident, he would never have contrived to go back and woo her here in the past.  A paradox, that even if possible, would destroy the only moments they had together.

But it wasn't possible.  He knew that now.

###

Tara let herself be talked into extending their stay for a full week, but after that she was firm.

"I've got to go back -- before I get too confused.  I have two Kents to think about, and you have two Taras.  I really think we need to get back in sync."

He nodded.  "This was a special time."

They returned to the base, and he kept his composure for three seconds past the moment she vanished back to her interrupted life.

###

A month to the day after his last visit, General Hershey escorted by Jerry was into the conference room.

Kent Shaw sat at the table.  There were no presentation documents -- no projector for the charts.

Just a single lab notebook rested under his fingertips.  Jerry left.

"General."

"Dr. Shaw."

Kent shifted in his chair.  "Are you married, General?"

"Yes, I am.  Thirty-two years."

Kent nodded to himself.

"I'd like to tell you a story."

When it was done.  After all the twists and turns, the two men sat silently together.  The military man closed the notebook and leaned back in his chair.

"I've always suspected it was impossible to go back and fix our mistakes."

He pushed the notebook across to Kent.

"Still, there've been a number of times in my life as well, when I would've given anything for just a little more time. 

"Just a little more time to make things fit."

-end-