Button in the Fabric of Time (8 page)

Jan-3 dialed another series of numbers on the
panel of the keri, and we were smoothly and silently on our way.
The compartment moved so fast that I was unable to identify passing
objects.

In only seconds, we stopped in front of what
appeared to be a small, secluded restaurant. A male attendant
dressed in black led us to an alcove with a magnificent view of the
ocean. A full moon cast shadows on the water below. We were
hundreds of feet above the water, and the moving shadows gave depth
and dimension to the scene. Dimly lighted keris scurried past.

So much had happened since I had arrived in
the thirty-first century that I hadn’t even noticed that the sun
had set. Under normal conditions I would be getting tired but,
perhaps because of the cleansing, I felt exhilarated.

Our semi-darkened alcove was romantically
private, and music, reminiscent of blue Hawaii, caressed the night.
Our server, a pretty female, dressed in a shimmering-blue,
loose-fitting blouse with a short, white satin-like skirt and pink
undergarments, came to the table and asked, “Would you like
wine?”

“May I order?” Jan-3 asked as she looked
questioningly at me.

“Would you please? I know nothing of your
wines. Even in my time, I’m no connoisseur.”

She ordered a lightly chilled wine that was
mildly dry with a slightly tart taste. It fit the occasion. I told
her what it would be like if we were dining in the twenty-first
century.

She listened attentively, and then asked,
“When men and women spend an evening together, how do they relate
to one another?”

Not completely understanding what she was
asking, or why, I told her about the maneuvering men and women do
to get the evening to end in the way they desired. I explained how
most of the time men are interested in how
this particular
evening would end, while the women were usually more interested
developing a long-term relationship.

Smiling, Jan-3 blotted a drop of wine from
her lower lip, and said, “That hasn’t changed much.”

While we were enjoying our second glass of
wine, the server appeared.

“Order as you would at a restaurant where you
came from,” Jan-3 said, “and I’ll have whatever you have.”

I ordered Caesar salad for two, rib-eye
steaks medium rare, with potatoes au gratin, sour dough bread, and
apple pie for dessert.

The server disappeared. After a reasonable
time, the he returned with steaks, grilled perfectly. “If you don’t
eat beef, where did the cook get these steaks?”

“Those are not steaks; they’re manufactured
duplications of steaks. Didn’t you have simulated foods?” she
asked.

“We had veggie burgers and stuff like that,
but these steaks look and taste like the real thing.”

Jan-3 said pleasantly, “We’ve been working on
them for a thousand years. Does it surprise you that we have
improved on what you had?”

I agreed that a thousand years was enough
time to make improvements. Most of our dinner conversation was
about things Jan-3 wanted to know. I was surprised at how much she
already knew, and at how quickly her agile mind grasped everything
I told her. She was particularly interested in my childhood on the
farm.

“Do you have family farms?” I asked.

“We produce farm products and care for
animals, but there are no family farms. We harvest milk, eggs and
butter, grow cotton, and produce wool. We grow and harvest grains,
nuts, and vegetables. Most vegetables are grown in multilayered
planters with each layer climatically controlled. By conducting
studies to determine the exact types and amounts of nutrients each
crop needs we can produce food with better taste and texture. By
using artificial sunlight, we accelerate plant growth many fold.
The growing medium is sterilized and reused repeatedly. Air in the
growing modules circulates through filters that cleanse it of all
harmful substances.”

“Then you don’t need to use herbicides or
insecticides?” I asked.

“That’s correct. The produce doesn’t need to
be processed. It’s ready to eat just the way it’s harvested.”

“Harvesting would be an interesting thing to
see,” I said.

“Then I’ll take you to see that when you’re
not busy helping to develop the time-travel device.”

The meal was delicious, the conversation
interesting, the music and the setting were wonderful. Jan-3 was
the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and I was thinking about
where and how I would spend the night. Not wanting to press my
luck, I said, “Perhaps you could direct me to a hotel.”

“We have good hotels, and I’ll take you to
one, if that’s what you want. But my feminine intuition tells me
that you would rather spend the night with me. I have plenty of
room, and I think I can make you comfortable.”

“Your company is all I need to make me
comfortable, if you’re sure that’s what you want.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it all day,”
she grinned.

“Then let’s go, but how do I pay the
bill?”

“It’s been paid,” she said.

“How did that work?” I asked.

“The waiter scanned your retina with an
invisible light, and the bill was charged to your account.”

“But I have no account.”

“Yes, you do,” she replied. “When we accepted
you as one of us, an account was set up in your name.”

“But I haven’t put anything into the
account.”

“Yes, you have. You’ve provided a valuable
service by bringing the button to us, and you’ll assist us in
developing the technology. Your occupation is already determined.
You’re working now, and you’re being well-paid, so don’t worry
about the bill.”

Rising from the table, she reached for my
hand and said, “Let’s go to my place.”

I didn’t need a second invitation. We walked
to the entrance, and Jan-3 dialed numbers on a pedestal by the door
and in seconds, a traveling compartment appeared. We were
transported to her apartment.

Her apartment was near the top floor of the
city and looked out over the ocean. Since the walls, floors, and
ceilings were made of glass, Jan-3 had used carpets, ornamental
throw-rugs, and drapes to give the place a warm, feminine feeling.
Glowing lights appeared as celestial bodies in the glass ceiling,
making the room feel as though we were outside. No fans were
visible, but there was a slight breeze. Music with a soft rhythmic
beat, probably designed for mood enhancement, filled the apartment.
Her place had several rooms, and it was surprisingly spacious.

“Do you have a shower? I’d like to get
cleaned up.”

She led me to a private enclosure, then
pointing to some controls, said, “First, dial the temperature, and
then turn the water on.” Pointing to knobs she continued, “This one
regulates the intensity of the spray, and this one dispenses
cleansing solution. The water is distilled, so it doesn’t take
much. After you’ve finished your bath, step into this drying
chamber. You’ll find fresh clothing folded on a table outside the
door.” She stepped out of her garments, pointed to the enclosure,
indicating I should enter, and said, “I’ll bathe with you.”

Her flawless skin had the texture of rich
cream, and her rounded hips and breasts were enormously arousing. I
took her in my arms and she responded. We stepped into the hot,
flowing water. The bath was more than refreshing; it was an
adventure.

After our bath, I put on the robe that had
been laid out for me. It was like a kimono, easy to put on and very
comfortable. Jan-3 slipped on a lavender robe, poured two glasses
of wine, and we went to a patio extension of her apartment that
overlooked the ocean some thirty floors below. In the distance, we
saw groupings of lights that Jan-3 explained were satellite
cities.

We sat on a softly padded lounge. She
snuggled into my arms; the silky texture of her skin and the
fragrance of her hair were intoxicating. After we sipped wine and
talked for a while, she took my hand and led me to her bed.
Effortlessly, she slipped from her robe and lay on the elevated
bed. The bedding was sensuously stimulating. It was a night I’ll
never forget. . . .

* * *

I have no idea how long I slept, but when I
awoke, sunlight was glistening through the glass walls. I looked
around for Jan-3, but she wasn’t there. I showered, shaved, and
dressed in the clothes I found on a stand beside the bed. These
clothes were more formal than the ones I wore yesterday. The
material felt like a blend of silk and wool. The fit was perfect
and the tailoring excellent. These clothes were less decorative
than the ones I wore yesterday, but I liked what I saw when I
looked at my image in the mirror. They fit perfectly.

The shoes needed no socks since they were
softly padded and fit my feet, ankles, and calves snugly. The tops
provided support; the soles were firm but not rigid, giving a
spring to my stride.

Jan-3 came dancing into the room in a pink
dress that was form fitted to her hips, then pleated slightly below
her knees. The pleated skirt swirled around her when she turned,
exposing her shapely thighs. The bodice was low and accented her
breasts, covering but not concealing her upturned nipples. Her
shoes looked comfortable enough for walking, but the heels were
elevated, shaping her slender ankles and calves even more. She
smiled, and her eyes shined when she whispered in a low, sultry
voice, “Last night was wonderful.”

“It was the most satisfying experience of my
life. I’ve never before felt so alive,” I said as I gathered her in
my arms. “I’m famished. When do we eat?”

“Breakfast is ready,” she replied. “I ordered
bacon crisp, eggs over medium, buttered toast, and strawberry jam.
If my memory serves me right, that’s a usual morning meal for the
twenty-first century. The eggs are real, but the bacon isn’t. We
can eat now if you want. The sun is too bright on the patio, so
let’s eat in the dining alcove. We must eat quickly, though; Roc-2
says he needs your help with the button.”

We ate while rays of the early morning sun
radiated through the sculptured glass walls. After eating, we
stepped out the door and Jan-3 pressed a series of numbers. A keri
arrived almost immediately. This keri was smaller and cozier than
the others we had traveled in.

“Since Roc-2 is waiting for us, we’ll travel
quickly,” Jan-3 said. “We can explore the city later.”

* * * * *

Chapter 12

In only seconds, we stopped in a long, dome
that enclosed what looked like scientific tools and instruments
lining both sides of an isle extending hundreds of feet. I didn’t
recognize the equipment, but I recognized the atmosphere—it was a
research laboratory.

Roc-2 appeared as if by magic. I was
beginning to understand that these people were able to appear from
behind invisible doors, but it was still a bit unnerving.
Recognizing my expression of surprise, Roc-2 smiled and said,
“You’ll get used to it.” Glancing first at Jan-3, then back at me,
he asked, “Did you sleep well?”

I knew a loaded question when I heard one,
and not knowing the polite thing to do, I discreetly replied, “The
bed was comfortable, and I feel refreshed. How can I help you with
the button?”

Jan-3 smiled, Roc-2 gave her a knowing look,
and then introduced me to the four men helping him. “We’ve examined
the button and know that it is heat-sealed, but we didn’t want to
open it until after you show us how you used it.”

I explained how I had accidentally discovered
that the button would transport me to any desired location. All I
had to do was to visualize the place and rub the red portion. And
then I explained that by rubbing the blue or green sections, the
button would move me forward or backward in time, and then white
would return me to my original time and location.

“It seems to me,” I explained, “that the
mechanism in the button is connected electronically to the thought
pattern of the user and responds to that thought.”

Roc-2 listened closely, nodded, and said,
“We’ve determined with our X-rays that there are electronic devices
inside.” Handing the button to me he asked, “Could you
show
us how you used it?”

Looking for a way to demonstrate, I saw that
the far end of the laboratory was about fifty meters away. I said,
“I’ll move to the far end of this enclosure and return.” I
visualized myself at the far end, and rubbed the red. They saw me
at the far end and waved. Then I rubbed the white, and instantly I
was back. Everyone was astonished.

“How far will it transport you?” one of the
lab workers asked.

“There doesn’t appear to be a limit.” Then I
asked Roc-2, “How far is it to the place where we first met?”

“Several thousand kilometers,” he
answered.

“Is there anything there that I can bring
back, that will prove to you that I’ve been there?”

Roc-2 thought for a moment and replied, “Yes,
there’s a plum tree growing beside the stream and the plums are
ripe. Bring me a ripe plum.”

I transported to the stream, picked a ripe
plum, returned, and handed it to Roc-2, at the same instant he had
asked for it. They were really astonished. I had previously decided
that nothing could surprise Roc-2, but he was surprised by what he
had witnessed.

“You’ve just proven that the speed of light
is not the ultimate speed,” Roc-2 remarked. “Thoughts travel faster
than light, and you have just traveled at the speed of thought. We
must
have this technology. Is it limited to terrestrial
travel, or could it be used for interplanetary, or even
interstellar, travel?”

“I’ve never used it for that purpose, but it
might work. I don’t have enough knowledge of other planets to use
it that way. Would you like to try? I’ll show you how it works.” I
demonstrated the use of the button until they all understood, but
no one volunteered to do interplanetary travel.