“Ah, General,” Archer said, “we were just talking about you!” Ryan chuckled.
“Dr. Archer,” the General said plainly. “I assume our ridiculously high paychecks are getting results.”
Archer stood up out of mock respect. He didn't care for military types but wasn't foolish enough to fake a salute. He merely put out his hand, which the General – as usual – ignored. “I wouldn't cash them if I wasn't, sir.”
The General, a tall, imposing man, was stoic. “Good. I was sent to escort you to Henderson's office.”
Archer set down his notes and clapped his hands together. “Then lead the way.”
The office of John Archer’s boss – Frank Henderson – was completely bare. There were no pictures. There was no comfortable furniture; only an empty desk with a minimalist's computer on top, the chair Henderson himself was sitting in, and two empty chairs that looked like he stole them from an elementary school's cafeteria fifty years ago.
The General and Archer entered the office and, knowing Henderson's business-only nature, tried to squeeze into the small, plastic chairs. Henderson leaned forward, folded his lanky hands neatly on the desk, and squinted through
his half-inch thick glasses to examine his subjects.
“I'm assuming the General did not tell you why you were escorted here?” Henderson asked.
“No,” Archer said. “I mean, it's rare I'm escorted anywhere these days. I just figured the General was in one of his moods.” Archer laughed. The General did not. “Would you lighten up, already? We've known each other ten years!”
Henderson interrupted. “John, we've decided to stop funding your program.”
Archer looked shocked. “May I ask why?”
“We're simply not getting the results we need.”
“Well, of course you're not, Frank. You've taken away my entire team. I'm down to one assistant, and while Ryan's a great kid, I can’t get my research done with only his help.” Archer noticed his voice had risen.
Henderson sat motionless. “We're not cutting your project completely, John. Only the part that involves you.”
“Oh, I see how it is. I'd bet the fillings in my teeth that you wouldn't be firing me if I was a heartless, warmongering crony like you!”
“That's enough!” Henderson said as he towered over Archer. He realized he too had raised his voice and immediately cleared his throat and sat down. “We've made our decision, John.”
Archer prepared to stand up and wait for the General to escort him to his office and then out of the building to security. Instead, he remained seated. Henderson looked up at the General and motioned him to lead Archer away. “Not yet,” Archer declared. “I want to know what’s going to be done with my research.”
“That doesn’t concern you any longer,” He motioned to the General again. As Archer stood up and moved to the door, the General following closely behind, Henderson cleared his throat again. Archer stopped. “John, while I can’t make any assurances, we will do our best to find the appropriate idiot foolish enough to continue your work.” He smirked.
Archer nodded. It was never a secret that they monitored his laboratory. He just didn’t care what anyone heard. “Then perhaps you should work on it yourself!”
John Archer returned to his house to find all of his work confiscated. His office appeared disheveled and his mail was open. Only one piece of mail remained sealed: it was from his former boss – and the postmark was from yesterday. He opened it even though he had a good idea what it said. Indeed, Archer was right; they fired him, which he already knew.
Just like the government
, he thought,
always sticking a knife in your back before you’re aware of it.
One piece of information in the letter got Archer’s attention though. Besides the boilerplate notice of termination, there was a copy of his original contract. Archer vaguely remembered reading the contract when he signed it, but the agency highlighted the important part in yellow marker anyway just in case he forgot. It read:
All research and experiments conducted in this department remains the exclusive
property of the Agency and upon your termination, you are hereby forbidden to continue similar research with any
other entity, both foreign and domestic.
The threat was in vain, as Archer had no intention of continuing his research. His only concern as he burned the letter over his stove-top and went upstairs to bed was where his next paycheck would come from.
James couldn’t let go of the gorgeous woman he held tight in his arms. He said nothing for a few moments as he contemplated whether he really wanted to know how she had gone from a powerful, time-traveling, miniature, naked woman, to the strong and beautifully adorned woman that stood confidently in his presence.
Genesis remained in his embrace with her eyes closed, half convinced that what she felt was little more than a dream she didn’t want to wake up from. The adventure of her life had yielded a reward she never imagined possible for her: she now had a time and place to call home.
If only Jadzia could see me now
, she thought.
“You know what?” James finally said. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “I don’t care how you got here.”
“I don’t mind telling you what happened.”
“I know. And maybe someday you will. But right now, I want to savor this moment with you.”
She smiled and kissed him again. “I hope you won’t get tired of this,” she said.
“Of this,” he paused to kiss her long and deep, “never!”
He took her by the hand and walked down the street, away from his parent’s home. As James’s father arrived home from work and saw the new smile on his son’s face, he had a hard time recognizing James at all. James only gave his father a cursory glance as he and the woman he loved walked by, leaving his family and the past where it belonged.
James and Genesis returned from dinner a few hours later. His father was napping in his room, while his sister and mother were fighting over shoes or some other clothing-related issue. James’s mother, Becky, who was still living at home in the improved time line, was the first to meet Genesis. James introduced her as his girlfriend and invented some wild tale about how they met at work.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Becky said with a smile as Melissa stormed to her room, the battle with her mother lost.
“Likewise,” Genesis answered.
“Mom,” James said, “Genesis is going to sleep in the den if that’s alright. I’d prefer her not to drive alone this late.”
Becky smiled with approval. “That’s fine, James. Just get her whatever she needs from the pantry. Did you need a shower?” she asked Genesis.
“Sure, that would be great!” Genesis replied.
“Okay, there are towels in the closet in the bathroom,” Becky said as she finished the last of the dishes. “Well, I’m off to bed to read. Your father should be getting up from his nap in a bit.” She turned to Genesis: “He’s usually up pretty late watching television. I’ll let him know you’re here. Let me know if it gets too loud.” Becky dried her hands and disappeared.
“Wow,” James exclaimed, “she seems downright happy! I haven’t seen that in a while.”
“Well, remember all we changed,” Genesis said. “Hopefully, it will stay this way.”
James nodded and led Genesis to the den in the basement. There was a pull-out bed along the far wall, a small refrigerator just next to the family computer, and a TV with several of James’s video games hooked up to it.
Although just a den designed for getting nothing done, Genesis felt warm and at home. James was rummaging through an old hope chest – probably his mother’s – filled to the brim with loose-leaf pages and magazines. Underneath a stack of books James’s father had buried years ago was a fat envelope that James ripped open and emptied on the floor. Paper money floated to the carpet, along with a few stock certificates.
“This is all I have,” James said. “It’s a little cash and some stocks my grandparents gave me on the day I was born. I have no idea what it’s worth, but we’ll find out tomorrow.”
Genesis appeared confused.
“It’s for us,” he explained. “For our new life.”
She beamed.
“Gen, I know in my parent’s eyes, we’ve only just met. We’ll have to explain something to them, but I won’t spend another night away from you. I know I love you, and I won’t let my family or anyone else tell me that it’s too soon. Making you wait for us to get married would be unfair to you and…”
“Wait,” she interrupted, “you want to marry me?”
“Of course,” he answered without hesitating. “That’s what this money’s for. Tomorrow, you’re picking out a dress. And as soon as you’re ready, I’m going to marry you.”
She couldn’t contain her happiness any longer. She threw her arms around his neck, kissed him as hard as she could, and cried tears of joy she never knew possible. “I’m ready now,” she whispered in his ear. “I’ve been ready since I first saw you!” Her tears gave way to laughter as he held her tight, kissed her goodnight, and went upstairs to his room. It was the last night either of them would sleep alone.
Chapter 2
Archer awoke from a deep and refreshing slumber and couldn’t remember the last time he slept so well. He went downstairs to make himself a breakfast, but soon realized that his regular meal of a lightly buttered English muffin and weak coffee from the day before were no longer necessary. He wasn’t in a rush to be at work on time, so he decided to prepare a feast that no man could finish. Of course, finishing the meal was hardly the point in Archer’s mind. The purpose here was to savor each bite of a protracted and casual spread of pancakes, biscuits and gravy, and mounds of bacon cooked just right. For a man who had spent much of his adult life eating prepared food or take-out, he realized he had no idea how to prepare a bowl of hot cereal, let alone the meal he imagined here.
No matter
, he thought.
I will simply learn. I figured out how to travel through time, I’m sure bacon and eggs aren’t much harder!