The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance

Margo Maguire Sexual Healing

The Old City. Autumn, AD 2743

The temperature was well modulated in the residential unit and the sound level comfortable as D499-DG-098 observed the chairperson addressing the group.

“The population decline has reached a critical level,” said M277-CZ-398. She was the leader of GreenPiece, an ancient organization believed to have promoted the good health of the planet. It had been revived in recent years to address the concerns of the world’s troubled scientists.

M277’s demeanour was perfectly calm as she stated the fact they all knew. In 237 years, humanity would die out, becoming extinct, leaving only the fauna and flora to prosper without restraint. “The spiral will soon be irreversible,” she added.

“It’s time, then. Have we decided who will go?” one of the members asked. “D499 seems the likely candidate since he can gain access to a tempis-disc.”

D499-DG-098 remained on the fringe of the room, and listened with a growing fascination. The biologists of GreenPiece had studied the problem of the Federation’s population decline from many different angles, and had come to one simple conclusion. In order to save the human race, the inventor of Fusion XJ would have to be stopped before his creation came to fruition — before it could render increasing numbers of humans essentially infertile.

GreenPiece was meeting in M277’s unit, ostensibly a study group, so that the authorities would not perceive any change in social conduct. The Federation strictly enforced the Natural Progression, and interfering with past events was absolutely forbidden. The world had become a balanced place, where emotions were subdued and rationality prevailed. Where war and famine did not exist, nor violence or disease. Where knowledge was king.

It was a cold, tightly regulated world, and while humans no longer had the impetus to create chaos for themselves, they’d also lost the impetus to mate. The process of Fusion XJ had cured a multitude of diseases, and the side effect of diminishing libido had not been a problem at first. It had hardly been noticed. Once the change was detected, it was viewed as a positive social development.

But it was not. In 2514, scientists had finally understood the full effect of Fusion XJ. The lauded genetic splicing that had bred out the propensity for vascular disease and tumour growth, had had an insidious side effect. The offspring of parents who had been treated had little interest in sexual coupling.

It had taken generations for the effect to become widespread, though not everyone was desensitized. A small segment of the population remained untouched by the genetic alteration. But they were in the minority, so, over time, sexuality had fallen into disfavour. It was considered a necessary evil by society at large, and very few Federees would practise any form of it without good reason: an obligatory pregnancy.

D499 was not desensitized, but there was a dearth of stimulation in the Federation’s world, so his libido was rarely a problem. He had told no one that he was a Deviant, because it was no one else’s concern. And, besides, he didn’t want to deal with the stigma of Deviance. Even though his genes were intact, he and everyone like him needed to be circumspect in order to avoid alienating their friends and co-workers. He kept his sexual urges to himself, as did every other Deviant.

Certainly, the gradual population control that had occurred without war and epidemics had been a welcome relief from continuous growth. But in two centuries hence, human life would arrive at a critical point. The decline in numbers would wreak havoc with civilization. There would be insufficient numbers of people to maintain life as it was known. There would not be enough workers to produce necessities or consumers to use them. Humans would retreat into small, subsistence enclaves, separated by thousands of miles. There would be no world community.

Cloning had been considered a fair solution to the drop in population, but there were flaws — especially in the intellectual capacity of the subjects. And until those flaws were corrected, the Federation could not rely upon clones for the perpetuation of the human species.

The group had decided that the creator of Fusion XJ could not be allowed to invent his process. GreenPiece’s scientists had calculated the likely consequences of Fusion XJ’s absence. Population growth would remain steady, due to death from war and disease. There would be no artificial decline due to a genetically engineered aversion to sex.

“Correct. D499-DG-098 is the logical choice to go. He is a temporal-spatial physicist,” said M277, sitting on her sleek white sofa, wearing the white uni-suit that was identical to everyone else’s, “and with his interest in history, he knows States better than any of us.”

“United States,” D499 muttered. He’d studied the available information, but the documentation was fragmented, with very few info-discs that survived the terrible wars of the twenty-third century. D499 believed the year he needed to visit would be fraught with the dangers of violence and disease. The people of that long-ago era allowed their emotions — and their libido — to rule their actions. It was likely to be absolute hell.

“My mistake,” M277 said. “United States. Now that our data is in, it is imperative that we act.”

D499 knew it was his duty to go. Someone had to stop the man who would invent Fusion XJ, and change the course of the world.

Time travel was not exactly trivial, but it was not the impossibility pronounced by scientists all through the Technical Age. Certainly, it posed problems, but they were solved by the advent of the computrons, the thinking machines that were immeasurably superior to the computers of the Technical Age. He was a physicist in the Knowledge Age and, as every Federee knew, knowledge was power.

“I’m prepared to go,” D499 said. He knew that people of the distant past used family names. There were no Identi-Checks, and people exchanged currency for goods and services.

“Do you need time to make preparations?” M277-CZ-398 asked.

D499 shook his head. Expecting to be the one chosen to go, he’d already considered what he needed to do to fit in. He’d made arrangements. “No. Just a few hours to assemble what I’ll need to take with me.”

“Then we’ll meet in the Old Town factory at first light.”

For the past two years, D499 had added an additional hour of exercise to his daily regimen of swimming and running, in the likelihood that he would be called upon for this mission. He’d wanted to be ready, both physically and mentally, for the task. An added benefit of his weight-lifting and vigorous Aten-Ra exercises was that his physical fatigue had helped him control the lust that often plagued him when he retired at night.

He left the group and took a transit to the Restoration Center for one last workout before his departure. Though he was the lead scientist on the Federation’s Temporal-Spatial team, he was vaguely nervous about the undertaking. “Sliding” through time was not something to be taken lightly. Creating a wormhole was no simple feat.

And there was a possibility that they had some of the historical details wrong. Andrew Gibson-Booth might not have done his breakthrough work on Fusion XJ in the year 2015. If that was the case, D499 might arrive a year or two late, too late to do what he needed to do. To compensate for this, his colleagues agreed that he should arrive a few years early.

He’d chosen a name, one that he’d found in his own sketchy family records. He would be Sean Dugan, and once he arrived in 2010, he would be able to use the rudimentary computers of the Technology Age to locate Andrew Gibson-Booth, and make any necessary arrangements. Perhaps the old machines could be used to create the credentials he needed to become one of Andrew Gibson-Booth’s colleagues. However he managed it, he would stop Gibson-Booth before he ever got started.

Chicago. April 2010

“Where’s your backpack, Drew?” Erica Gibson-Booth asked her son. “Hurry up, honey. Mitch’s guy will be here in a minute!”

“Who is Mitch’s guy?” asked five-year-old Drew as he went into his bedroom for his pack.

Erica didn’t want to frighten her son with talk about stalkers and bodyguards. She just hoped her smarter-than-average little boy would accept a bare-minimum explanation. “He’s just a good friend of Mitch Crandall who wants to come to work with me.”

She heard a knock at the door. Looking through the peephole she saw that it was indeed the bodyguard, a man she’d never seen before, and she would have remembered this one. The guy must be six-five. He had a face that looked like it had been chiselled from granite, and those shoulders.

Erica felt a twinge of something that hadn’t been active in her life in a very long time, in spite of the profession she’d been forced to turn to. She hadn’t felt the pull of attraction since Andy’s fatal car accident five years before, when they were both grad students and had a promising future ahead of them.

Back when she was pregnant with Drew.

She took a deep breath and opened the door. “You’re right on time.” She put out her hand. “I’m Erica Gibson-Booth. And we’re almost ready.”

Her bodyguard’s formidable dark brows lowered over his brown eyes and he hesitated for a moment before taking her hand and looking into her eyes. “Sean Dugan,” he finally said, his voice deep, his hand warm. “Is Andrew here?”

The bottom of Erica’s stomach fell out at the strength of the man’s gaze. His hair was thick and nearly black, and he wore it short, almost military. He seemed to be in complete command, and yet he stood quietly, as though waiting for.

Erica gathered her wits and put away every lascivious thought that had just flown through her brain. She wasn’t the one with overblown hormones. It was the guys who came to drool over her when she danced. “Drew will be ready in a sec. Drew?” she called. “Come on! It’s seven-thirty!”

The apartment was so tiny that when she went into the kitchen alcove, she was standing only a few feet from Mr Dugan, who seemed to take up a great deal of space. “We’ll be ready in a moment,” she said. “Make yourself comfortable while I make this PB and J.”

But he didn’t look comfortable at all. He glanced around the apartment as though he’d never been inside an 800-feet flat before. He was almost too big for it. Too big for her apartment-sized furniture anyway, and Erica had a sudden image of him lying naked in her double bed, and taking up almost all the space. Almost.

She cleared her throat and refocused. “I know it’s not much, but Drew and I manage.” She took bread out of a drawer and slapped together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then wrapped it in wax paper.

“Don’t say anything to Drew about why you’re here,” she said quietly as she grabbed her coat and purse, and Drew’s sweatshirt. “I don’t want to scare him.”

He frowned at that, and at the sandwich she’d just made. She was going to ask him if he wanted one, but Drew came out of the bedroom with his backpack just then, and they wasted no time heading out of the apartment. She couldn’t feed everyone. “Where did you park?”

“Park?” he asked.

“You didn’t drive?”

“No. I—”

“We’ll take my car, then. It’s probably better if I drive and you keep an eye out for the bald guy, anyway.” Her stalker. A man named Bernie Sandino. She’d learned his name from the cops, and knew that he used to be a prize fighter, but there wasn’t anything the police could do about him. He hadn’t made any threats, and rarely came within ten yards of her.

But he gave her the creeps, and he always seemed to be around. It was pretty obvious that he was following her. Mitch had told the bouncers at the Purple Moon to keep him out of the club, but he always seemed to be lurking nearby, after hours. “It’s a relief to have you along, Mr Dugan,” she said quietly, hoping not to alert Drew to any danger.

It was true. Sean Dugan had an imposing presence, even though he looked at her as if he’d never seen a woman before. Maybe he’s never seen a redhead?

In any case, Sandino wouldn’t dare come near her with a man like Dugan standing with her. “Did Mitch show you any pictures of the creep?”

“Creep?”

“You know, Sandino — the guy who’s been following me.”

“Uh, no.”

They walked towards Sheffield Street and when they reached the corner Erica tossed the sandwich to the homeless amputee who hung out in the same place every day. He shouted his thanks and they moved on.

“You feed the. ”

“He’s harmless and, well, look at him. He needs help.”

She led them to her eight-year-old Corolla and unlocked the car. “Andrew, into the back.”

“I know, Mommy.”

“And you, Mr Dugan,” she said, “can ride shotgun.”

D499 wasn’t quite sure what had just happened. The colours here were more vivid than any he’d seen in his time, the sounds louder and the smells far more intense. He could not get over the height of the trees. They were tall and. majestic was the only word he could think of, even though it was an archaic usage. Federation trees were mere shrubs compared to these. And they only grew in neat clusters, or straight rows that lined the laz-tracks.

The pure sensuality of the woman — Erica — was something he couldn’t possibly have anticipated. She wore a light blue sweater, which hugged feminine curves that had obviously been bred out of the women of AD 2743, and black pants, which fitted her like a second skin. He felt the punch of something hot and sultry, and so intense he could barely swallow.

She had red hair. Red. It was something D499 — or rather, Sean — had never seen before. It looked smooth and glassy like sheets of styron, and had streaks of gold running through it. Amazing. Her eyes were green and her lips were full and pink. Sean’s gaze was drawn to them so often, she was sure to notice if he didn’t get his bewilderment — and his Deviant urges — under control.

With the assumptions she’d made about him, he hadn’t had to use the ruse he’d come up with to get close to Andrew. But he wasn’t quite sure what she expected of him.

In consternation, he dragged one hand across his mouth and got into the vehicle, folding his long legs uncomfortably into the small space. She had the engine started before he could bring himself to turn back and look at the child whom she’d called Andrew. Could this be the Andrew Gibson-Booth he’d come for?

“Buckle up, Mr Dugan,” said the boy.

He didn’t know what the child was talking about, and in his hesitation Erica leaned over him and reached for some sort of wide belt hidden beside his shoulder, which she pulled across him and fastened into a metal holder that lay between their two seats.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as she did so, taking in the pleasant scent of what could only be her warm, feminine body. Scents that had all but disappeared in his time.

What a mistake that was.

She drove out into the street and Sean turned his attention to the business at hand. “Where is the boy’s father?” he asked Erica. Even her name was sensual, the sound of it resonating through his brain almost as much as her enthralling scent.

“My daddy went to heaven before I was born,” Andrew said.

Sean tried to mask his shock. He knew that the father of the man who’d developed Fusion XJ had died a few months prior to his son’s birth. Which meant that the child — this child — was the inventor.

And Sean was meant to stop him, using whatever method he deemed necessary. Many of the members of GreenPiece believed Andrew Gibson-Booth would have to be killed.

Sean swallowed hard. He was no child-killer. But what was he supposed to do? GreenPiece had sent him back to deal with the scientist who’d invented Fusion XJ. Clearly, the records they’d pieced together were wrong. Gibson-Booth must have patented the process years later, certainly not in 2015, as they’d concluded. Sean had come twenty or thirty years too early.

The boy resembled his mother — he had fair skin, though his hair was more yellow than red. His bright, intelligent, green eyes watched the road.

Sean could easily slide ahead in time in order to deal with Andrew as an adult, but he could not quite bring himself to leave the Erica Gibson-Booth of 2010, possibly to face her twenty or thirty years in the future.

She drove through traffic, and Sean’s attention was violently whipped away from his quandary by the speed they were travelling in her uncontrolled vehicle. There were no laz-tracks to keep this and the rest of the speeding vehicles in place, nothing preventing them from careening into one another.

“How fast does this vehicle travel?” he asked.

Erica shot him a sidelong glance and he felt more than a small degree of alarm, wishing she would keep her eyes on the road. “You’re not from Chicago, are you?”

He swallowed, hanging on tightly to the sides of his seat. “Why do you say that?”

“Your white knuckles,” she responded with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ve been driving in this kind of traffic for a long time.”

He shuddered as Erica pulled to a stop in front of an old house and got out of the car. Andrew did the same, so Sean followed suit.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning, sweetheart,” Erica said to her son, “as usual.”

“OK,” the boy replied.

“I love you, baby,” she said, crouching down to pull the boy into a tight hug.

“I’m not a baby,” Andrew said as he kissed his mother’s cheek. “I love you, too, Mommy.”

“Behave for Carolyn.”

Even at a distance, Sean could feel the strength of their bond and the power of their emotions. And he realized that it was yet another aspect of humanity that had been lost with the development of Fusion XJ. Love wasn’t a highly valued item in his time. Logic and progress, intelligence and order were the qualities that mattered.

As Erica turned her son over to the smiling woman at the house, Sean tried to sort out the situation. Erica was on her way to work, and she had just dropped her son at a place where he would be under supervision overnight. Now she would go to her lab, and she obviously believed that Sean was associated with her work there. He was not going to disabuse her of that belief until he could figure out what to do. About Andrew.

“Ready?” she asked him.

It must be an idiom, because of course he was ready. She was the one who’d needed to stop. He nodded and got back into the vehicle. Reluctantly. She resumed driving, and he found himself adjusting to the speed, and becoming even more aware of her.

The vehicle’s cabin was small, the seats close together. His thigh was touching hers, and the slight contact made the electrons in his skin switch charges.

At least, that’s what it felt like.

Her scent intrigued him, as did the sway of her hair. She glanced at him, her gorgeous eyes appraising him, looking at him in a way that was completely unfamiliar. Sean wondered if—

No. She could not possibly be showing sexual interest. Could she?

“Where are you from?” she asked.

He swallowed. “Atlanta.” It was the first ancient city that came to mind.

“You don’t sound southern,” she said. She licked her lips and Sean’s eyes locked on to the sight of her moist, pink mouth. He wondered how they would feel against his.

He shrugged as casually as he could. He’d had a lifetime to practise suppressing his libido and he could surely continue to do so now.

“Do you have any family back there?” Her voice was soft, the timbre alluring.

“No, I’m on my own.” That much was true. He had no one here, or in 2743, either. “What about you?”

“Just Drew and me,” she said. “He’s all I’ve got.”

Something in her voice jarred him. If he was not mistaken, it was the sound of complete and utter devotion. She would do anything for her child.

And Sean felt the strangest yearning to feel that kind of dedication. To be the one she cared for.

He pressed his hands against his thighs and tried to focus on the problem he faced rather than the fierce attraction and confusing emotions that were flooding his body and mind, but failed miserably. He wanted to know what it would feel like to touch Erica Gibson-Booth, to link with her in the primal way of humans — body to body, soul to soul. So much for controlling his libido.

“Why did you take food to that man on the street?”

“Poor guy is homeless,” she said. “It’s not his fault he got his legs blown off in the war.”

Sean gave a short nod and realized he had just seen, first hand, a not unusual result of the mid-world wars that had plagued the planet for decades. His era’s info-discs had not demonstrated the human losses so dramatically.

Nor had they exhibited any of the kindness that had been shown by people like Erica, who cared.

He was looking at her as though he wanted her for dessert, but not in the creepy way that the patrons of the Purple Moon Club ogled her. She reminded herself not to scorn those clowns at the P.M.C. too badly, because it was only because of them that Erica was able to pay her bills, and Drew’s asthma meds were expensive.

Her body hummed with awareness of Sean Dugan. He might want her for dessert, but she couldn’t stop thinking of him as the main course. He ran his big hands down his thighs, his discomfort at their proximity palpable.

He was attracted to her, and he hadn’t even seen her dance.

Erica took a deep breath. Dugan was hot, but no matter how strong her urge to lick him all over, she wasn’t going to fall for a big, dumb-ass bodyguard, just because he had a pretty face and a body that could make a virgin beg. She was only a dissertation away from finishing her doctorate in neurobiology, and as soon as the economy improved and she could get some student financing, she was going to quit her sucky job and finish the degree.

And then maybe she’d meet someone — the right kind of someone, and not just some loser who hung around strip clubs.

“Hey, I appreciate Mitch bringing you in,” she said, turning away from his chiselled jaw and that mouth that was made for sin. “I’ve never had a stalker before — that I know of.”

He nodded. Not big on small talk, she’d noticed. And he kept his eyes glued to the road ahead of them.

“Most of P.M.C.’s patrons are pretty harmless,” she said. “Or at least, none of them have ever tried to follow me home.”

“And this. stalker?”

“He’s been hanging around the stage door for the past week, and then I saw him near my apartment two days ago,” she said. “He scared the daylights out of me.”

He looked at her as though she’d spoken in another language and she decided he must be new to the bodyguarding gig. Or maybe it was strip clubs in general. That would be something new.

“You don’t look like a typical bouncer.”

“Uh, it’s my first time.”

She looked over at him, her mind opening to a few possibilities. “I guess I’m not the only one trapped by the bad economy. What did you used to do?”

“I’m. was. a temporal-spatial physicist.”

“Really,” she said, fascinated. She’d known he was no typical bouncer, but a scientist? “I’ve never heard of your field before. Did you lose funding?”

He gave a slow nod.

“Wow. Maybe we could have coffee after the show and you could tell me all about temporal-spatial physics.”

A muscle flexed in his strong jaw and she sensed that he was uncomfortable talking about his lost profession.

She exited the freeway, and started to prepare herself for the night at the club. She’d been in her current line of work for only three months, and dancing half naked for a bunch of drooling lechers hadn’t gotten any easier than the first time she’d done it. One of the other dancers had told her to fix her eyes on one spot near the back of the audience as she danced, and pretend she was all alone.

That had helped, but it didn’t get the sound of the catcalls and whistles out of her head. So she thought of Drew’s asthma attacks and pharmacy bills that dancing enabled her to pay.

Turning from the service drive, she wound her way through the heavy Chicago traffic, then turned on to Kingsbury. She saw that the club was hopping already and swallowed hard, bracing herself for what she had to do. She felt Sean Dugan’s gaze on her.

“You seem nervous,” he said, sounding puzzled.

She gave a quick nod. “I. I’m just not used to this line of work.”

He still seemed bewildered by her statement, but otherwise didn’t respond. She pulled into a parking space behind the club, put the car in park, switched off the engine and turned to face him.

“I’m really glad Mitch hired you. Scientists aren’t usually as buff as. ” She couldn’t believe what she almost said. “You won’t let anything happen to Drew. Or to me. Will you?”

He gave a shake of his head, his gaze roving from her eyes to her mouth. Staying on her mouth. “No. I. What does the man — the stalker — look like?”

It was hard to catch her breath when he looked at her like that. She leaned a little closer, hoping to catch the scent of his aftershave. “He’s tall, but not as tall as you,” she said quietly. Sean moved a fraction closer. She could see every one of the thick black lashes that framed his eyes. “H-his head is completely bald, but he has a tattoo on the back of his neck. I think it’s a bird — maybe an eagle — with its wings spread.”

Dugan touched the edge of Erica’s hair with one finger, then slid it down the side of her face. Her eyes closed and she felt her heart speed up as he cupped her cheek. No one’s touch had ever affected her so quickly, so potently.

She felt his breath on her face, and then a soft feathering of his lips against hers. Shivers skittered up her spine.

Erica leaned in. Slipping her hand around to the back of his head, she pulled him closer, meeting his kiss, deepening it. She hardly noticed how chaste a kiss it was until she slid her tongue past his lips and felt his gasp. He pulled away and looked at her, stunned.

“I–I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I never should have—”

He pulled her to him and kissed her, a hard, open-mouthed, hungry kiss, full of promise, full of. wonder.

Erica lost herself in it, in the pure, raw sensuality of his kiss. She’d never been touched this way before, with pure sexual heat in tandem with an unexpected sense of something entirely different. Reverence? Astonishment?

He tasted fresh and pure. His passion seemed innocent and safe, but at the same time it was sophisticated and dangerous. Confusing.

She pulled away, touching his lips with her fingers. “I–I have to go, Sean. I’m on in ten minutes.”

“On?” He looked as stunned as she felt.

“Stage.” She blushed for the first time in a long time. “Dancing. You know.”

“But. The neuro lab. I thought—”

She looked at him, startled. “How do you know about that? Did Mitch tell you?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Mitch.”

She put her hand on his forearm. “Listen. This was the only job I could get that pays the bills. As soon as the economy turns around, I’m going to finish my PhD and get out of here.”

Sean was in so far over his head, he didn’t know quite what to do. Erica jumped out of the vehicle and practically flew to the door of the building. Sean didn’t get out right after her, but stayed where he was, looking around for the bald stalker while he tried to gather his wits.

And do something about his unfortunate state of arousal.

Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. He’d never been kissed or even thought of kissing a woman the way Erica had kissed him. Sex in Sean’s time had been downgraded to one of the lower functions, done only when absolutely necessary. And certainly without the kind of zeal Erica had shown.

He jabbed his fingers through his neatly cropped hair and turned his thoughts to M277-CZ-398 in her plain white jumpsuit. The leader of GreenPiece was an even-featured woman without any of the curves Erica Gibson-Booth possessed. She did not make his pulse hammer with desire or his senses shimmer with excitement. The thought of her cooled his fever almost instantly.

He could only assume this physical intensity was a facet of sexual attraction, something he’d never experienced because nothing in his time was even faintly alluring. Combined with devotion and affection, it would be a powerful force. Love, he supposed, finally getting an inkling of the emotion referred to by the ancients. It was an all-encompassing kind of caring — something Sean could imagine feeling for a woman, even beyond the urge to mate.

Everything about this era seemed geared towards mating. Most of the huge signs he’d seen were at least subtly sexual in nature, and some were utterly blatant. Females and males in their prime wore seductive clothing that showed enticing curves or strong muscles. Women wore their hair long and flowing. Sensual. Lots of men let their facial hair grow to different lengths, from slightly scruffy to full beards. Primal.

People here had names, not cold, dry numbers that brought no individuality, no personality to their bearers. Sean felt a palpable energy here, and he realized that the lack of verve and liveliness in his own time was due to the loss of sexual drive. And they would never know what they were missing.

At least, not until he dealt with Andrew Gibson-Booth, preventing him from inventing Fusion XJ. The future would change significantly, but Sean had no doubt it would be a much more interesting future than what was in store for them now.

It took a few minutes before he was finally able to exit the vehicle. He glanced around once again for the man Erica was worried about, but the fellow wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Neither was the neuro-science lab that Andrew Gibson-Booth’s mother was supposed to have run, according to the sketchy information they had about her. She had been a scientist, that much was certain. But there was no documentation indicating that Erica had also been a dancer.

Taking one last glance around the area, Sean saw no one suspicious, so he went inside through the same door Erica had taken. The sound of hard, driving music hit him the minute he entered the building — a heavy drumbeat, shrieking chords and a hoarse, male voice carrying a discordant tune. There was very little light in the back corridor, but the air was full of something — some kind of smelly smoke, but nothing seemed to be on fire.

He went further in, noting two closed doors on either side of the hall. One of them flew open, and a man burst out of it, arguing with a half-dressed woman, who also came out.

Half naked was more like it. She wore heavy paint that accentuated her facial features, but Sean’s attention was drawn to her full, swaying breasts.

Fortunately, the two were so caught up in their argument that they did not notice him gaping. He tried not to stare, but it was all too weird. Nothing had prepared him for such a sight, and in spite of her nearly complete nudity, he found the woman surprisingly unappealing. Pure, physical sexuality was not that interesting.

He pushed past them towards the front of the building where the music was loudest, and looked for Erica.

Another shock. He found himself in some sort of theatre, with a circular, elevated stage in its centre, surrounded by cheering spectators. The walls were black, and the audience sat at tables in the dark fringes of the large room. Sean couldn’t see where the music emanated from, but colourful lights were focused on the stage where he saw two women, each one wearing nothing but a tiny strap of cloth between her legs. The barest essentials were covered, but nothing else.

They twisted and turned their bodies to the beat of the drums while the men in the audience cheered and tossed money to them. The entire scene before him was far more lascivious than anything his Deviant brain could have imagined. And suddenly the music changed tempo, the two women danced away, and another one appeared.

Erica.

At least she was wearing clothes. She climbed the steps to the stage and the cheers became louder. Men started whistling, and calling, “Mona! Mona!” Sean looked at the faces of the avid spectators and suddenly realized what was about to happen. He stood frozen in place, and watched as she moved in a sultry, sexual dance to the rhythm of a heavy drumbeat.

She remained expressionless until her eyes lit on him, then she focused on him as she danced, removing one article of clothing at a time and tossing it away. She danced as though he were the only man in the room, as though she was undressing just for him. Sean felt his knees go soft, but the rest of him hardened considerably. His mouth watered and he swallowed hard, watching her undress.

Never would he have believed this if someone in his time had told him about it. Her movements were incredibly erotic, but he suddenly remembered what she’d said in the car. She wasn’t accustomed to this kind of work. She was being paid to do this. And probably didn’t like it.

She was down to one thin layer of some soft, shimmering white undergarment. All but the tips of her breasts were visible beneath the filmy white cloth, and they bounced deliciously as she moved.

Her narrow waist flared to beautifully rounded hips, and her long legs were encased by some sheer, white, amazingly enticing stocking, which rose only to the tops of her thighs. He felt an extremely powerful surge of pure, male possessiveness. And when she let one of her straps drop over her shoulder, Sean knew he couldn’t let her go through with it.

He was onstage in one leap, lifting her and carrying her off, quickly taking her to that back hall where he’d come into the building. He carried her into one of the closed rooms, set her on to her feet and looked into her stunned eyes for only a second before taking her mouth in a searing, all-encompassing kiss. She belonged to no one but him.

He breathed in her scent, felt the smooth, soft give of her skin. She pulled him tightly against her, grinding her hips against him. He felt her shudder with pleasure just before she pushed him away.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Sean,” she whispered. “I’ll lose my job!”

“Forget this job,” he replied, his voice a harsh rasp.

“I can’t!”

They heard footsteps, and she grabbed his sleeve. Pulling him through another doorway, she closed the door behind them and locked it. “Mitch will be after you — us — in another second. You’ve got to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you in there. With all those. ”

She rose up on tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “I talked to Mitch. I know you’re not the bodyguard he hired.”

“No, but I—”

“I don’t care who you are,” she said, her voice quiet and urgent. “I. I’ve never. ” She bit her lower lip and Sean felt a quantum leap in the intensity of his arousal. She was killing him.

Sean heard a man bellowing somewhere nearby, “Erica!”

“He’ll find us in a second. Go out to the car and wait for me there. I’ll come out after I finish this set.”

“No. I’m taking you with me.”

“Sean, I need the money I can make here tonight. I can’t just leave.”

He cupped her jaw, his emotions in a jumble, every one of them stronger than anything he’d ever felt before. “I have more than enough. Take what I have and leave here with me.”

She looked at him sceptically.

“I. This is all very foreign to me,” he said. “I. ” What could he tell her that would get her out of there? “I didn’t understand when we first got here. I thought you were coming to your lab. To work.”

“Erica!” Mitch was getting closer.

“Wait here.” She slipped through yet another door and returned with her coat. She pulled it on over her skimpy underclothes while Sean stood quietly, trying to collect himself. He was aroused and protective and alarmed all at once.

“There’s another way out,” she said. “Let’s go.”

They took a side exit out of the building, one that Mitch would never think of, and jumped into her car. She started the motor and pulled away, drove a short distance and then stopped. Geared herself up for what she needed to say.

“Something happened to me when you stepped into my apartment,” she said. “The things I’m feeling. ” She shook her head, unsure how to continue without sounding like a love-struck idiot. But that was exactly how she felt. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone since Andy was killed. I’ve never been with anyone. ”

He touched her then, on her hand that rested on her thigh, sliding his open hand under hers until their palms touched. The contact was electric.

“It’s not always this way?” he asked. “Between men and women?”

It was obviously a rhetorical question. She leaned towards him as his hand closed around hers, and kissed him softly. Then she drew away and put the car in gear, burning rubber as she started for home.

They drove in silence, and Erica could not remember ever being so aware of a man before. He was tall and imposing, possessing a strong presence, a kind of poise or self-assurance that radiated off him in waves. He made her want to wrap herself up in him for the strength and security he could provide.

There’d been no one in her heart since Andrew, but she knew to the depths of her being that Sean Dugan had the potential to move in alongside her first love. Her rational mind told her that it wasn’t possible, that she’d only known Sean for a few hours. She’d done extensive coursework and research in neuro physiology and biology, and knew that her endocrine system was telling her brain how to react to this man.

But her heart and soul told her it wasn’t just hormones.

He rested his hand on her thigh as she drove, and she pushed her coat aside so that the skin of his palm touched her thigh above the silk of her white stocking. She wanted him to slide his hand up, to make her body sing with pleasure. The change in his breathing pattern indicated that he wanted it too, but he kept his hand where it was and caressed her gently.

It was fortunate that at least one of them was in control or they were liable to crash. Shivering with the most incredible sensations flowing through her veins, she drove the last block to her apartment with a building impatience.

She found a parking space and pulled into it, then put her hand on his where it rested on her thigh, and moved it where she wanted it. His fingers touched her silk panties and he made a strangled sound that mirrored her own hard, hot arousal. “I want you,” she whispered. “Come upstairs with me.”

She quickly unsnapped her seat belt as she threw open her car door and stepped out. Assuming Sean was right behind her, Erica made a dash towards her apartment building, but was startled by someone who darted out from behind a large SUV. He grabbed her, closing a filthy hand across her mouth, and started to drag her towards the vehicle.

“Come with me, Mona,” he rasped, using her stage name, and she knew it was Sandino.

Her heart pounding in her throat, Erica tried to scream, but it wasn’t necessary when her attacker dropped her suddenly.

Sean had grabbed the stalker by his jacket and then spun him around. Erica pushed herself up to her feet and looked for some way to help Sean, but she didn’t even own a cell phone to dial 911. She felt paralysed. Part of her knew she should run up to the apartment and call the police, but her legs would not move. She could only watch helplessly, as Sandino beat Sean to a pulp.

But Sandino wasn’t winning. Erica couldn’t see Sean’s exact moves, but his technique wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen in action films. He moved like a big, wild cat — smooth, quick and deadly, and without regard to gravity. Sandino must have wondered what hit him before he slid to the ground, unconscious. Sean tossed the brute into his vehicle, then came to her, pulling her into his arms.

He bent for a kiss and Erica pulled him to her, feeling his shudder deepening their kiss. She wanted him desperately, in a way she’d never wanted anyone, and sensed his need to touch her, too.

He broke the kiss and touched his forehead to hers, pausing for a moment, breathing heavily, yet never letting go. “Are you all right?”

She was still shaking with all the adrenalin rushing through her body, but somehow managed to nod. “I don’t have a cell phone. We should go up and call the police.”

Sean didn’t reply, but just slipped his arm around her waist and jogged to the apartment building beside her. Impatience roaring inside them, they hurried up the stairs, and, when they finally entered her apartment, she closed the door behind them and fell into his arms.

His mouth was on hers immediately, his hands sliding across her back and down to her hips, pulling her against him. Erica’s lungs felt as though they would burst if she didn’t get her clothes off and feel his skin against hers. She yanked at his sweater and pulled it over his head, then started on the buttons of his jeans as they fumbled their way to her bedroom.

The light from the street lamps was faint, but she could see, could admire, the thick bunching of the muscles in his arms and shoulders, the densely sculpted surface of his abs. He pushed her coat from her shoulders and it fell to the floor, just as he sat down on her bed and pulled her to him.

Sean set his tempis-disc on the floor, thinking he would explode before he even got his jeans off. Erica was absolute temptation, wearing the slip of a garment that barely covered her. She peeled the straps from her shoulders and let the thing fall to her waist.

He groaned when he saw her full breasts free of the shimmering white cloth. Touching a finger to her nipple, he pressed his lips to it, circling it with his tongue. She made a low sound and then he felt her hand at his head, bringing him closer.

“Take these off,” she whispered, reaching down to his jeans. She stepped back as he stood and divested himself of the rest of his clothes.

He had mated before, in a completely clinical fashion, with women who wanted his DNA in their offspring. This was something entirely different. Each of his cells burned with awareness of her, and his olfactory and tactile senses were overloaded. His eyes could barely take in her spectacular features, from her gorgeous eyes to her soft breasts and enticing legs.

“Touch me, Sean.”

He felt like a primitive beast, wanting to devour and worship her all at once. He kissed her hungrily, dragging his hands down her back, rubbing against her smooth belly.

She slid her hands up his shoulders and to the nape of his neck, making him cry out with desire. He could not imagine living without this, without her, in some distant, sterile future.

He came down over her, bracing himself on his hands, lowering his head to her breasts, giving attention to each one in turn. Moving lower, he swirled his tongue in her navel, then followed his instinct and slid farther down.

She sighed when he kissed her there, and whimpered as he licked her. Then he shifted position and entered her in one quick thrust.

The thought of leaving her, of leaving the bounty of sensation in this world, was impossible. From the moment her attacker had grabbed her, Sean had known he would do anything to keep her safe. Keep her happy.

He moved then, sliding with her in the rhythm that had been created at the beginning of time, and lost with the advent of Fusion XJ. He would correct that aberration, but not by doing anything to hurt Erica’s son, even though he knew GreenPiece expected it.

He heard her rapid breaths and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her orgasm drove him to his own peak and he held the backs of her thighs as he plunged deeply one last time and exploded inside her.

He couldn’t move when it was over.

Somehow, he’d managed to pull them on to their sides, but he was still inside her, still contracting with the most intense sensations of pleasure he’d ever felt.

“Wow,” she whispered.

He swallowed.

And he knew he couldn’t go back to his own time. unless Erica came with him.

She looked up at him. “I. I’ve never felt like this. Meeting you, making love. amazing.”

Sean could only nod. It wasn’t just the sex. It was as though she had opened another dimension to him, a dimension that had been hidden away all his life. He and the rest of humanity had become so accustomed to the monofilaments of their world, and he suddenly understood the diverse filaments that were possible. There were colours and textures and smells that had been lost over the centuries. Even the sounds of their language had changed. They no longer used names for each other, but cold, raw numbers. They did not relate as human beings, but almost as machines.

“More than amazing,” he said. “I’ve never experienced anything like this day.”

She nodded against him.

He withdrew from her body, closing his eyes and relishing the sensation. He tucked her against him.

“Have you ever been in love?” she asked.

“No. Not until now,” he said bluntly, and she lifted her head to look at him.

“I wouldn’t have believed it, but yeah. Me, too.” She spoke with wonder in her voice, as though she were stating the impossible.

He needed to talk with her, to make his proposal and discuss what he hoped they could do. But it could wait until the morning. For now, he just wanted to hold her until she slept.

Then he would use the tempis-disc to send Sandino and his vehicle to some distant place where he could never bother Erica again.

They got up early every day for a week, making love in the morning before Drew woke up, and sipping coffee together in the intimacy of her tiny kitchen. Erica didn’t know what the future would bring, but she did know that she would have to return to the Purple Moon at some point. Sean wasn’t going to like it, but she couldn’t let him pay her bills, and Drew’s inhalers were almost empty.

Drew liked Sean, and the two of them got along amazingly well. Both of them seemed to enjoy their jaunts to the park and the occasional quiet hour watching Nova or the History Channel on television. Erica’s heart contracted with cautious optimism. There hadn’t been much that had worked out for her in the past few years and she was afraid to count on this.

“You always look as though you’ve never tasted coffee before,” she said, casting off her doubts and worries as Sean savoured each sip. She finished spreading peanut butter on toast and set the plate on the table.

“I haven’t,” he said, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her close. He breathed deeply, as though he could inhale her with one breath.

She laughed, enjoying the intimacy of the morning. Idiot that she was, she’d fallen in love, and it had happened overnight. Or rather, it had happened in the span of about five minutes. She’d looked out at him that first night from onstage, and wanted to dance only for him. And when he’d carried her away from the stage and out of the club, she’d been hooked.

“I know you’re from Atlanta, but they’ve got coffee there!”

“I’m not actually from Atlanta.”

“I didn’t think so.” She laughed, completely unconcerned that he hadn’t been honest. She knew there had to be a reason for his little deception, maybe something embarrassing.

She didn’t care. He was strong and utterly male, yet sweet and thoughtful. He’d savoured every kiss and every caress they’d shared, and yet everything, everything seemed new and different to him.

He wasn’t very forthcoming with information when she asked him about himself, always turning the conversation to her or to Drew. Erica wondered if maybe he’d been in prison. Or raised in Tibet or something.

He raised his eyebrows and then shrugged, a gesture she’d come to love during the past week. “My home is so different from everything I’ve encountered here.”

Sensing that he was ready to open up about himself, she sat down next to him at the small dinette table in the kitchen. “Where are you really from?”

He reached under his sleeve and removed a black metal disc from a strip fastened around his upper arm. Placing it on the table, he turned it so that she could see small silver markings on its surface.

“What is it?”

“We call it a tempis-disc,” he replied.

“Tempis. temporal? It has to do with your profession?”

He nodded. “I am part of the team that works on wormholes, time shifts, spatial distortions.”

“Time travel? It must be top secret.” She picked up the disc and looked at it more closely. The metal was unlike any she’d ever seen before, but she was no geologist. It could be highly polished. anything.

“Careful,” he said, and she set it back on the table.

“What does it do?”

“It brought me here. To this time and place,” he said. “Which turned out to be an error.”

“What do you mean?”

“I came from another time.”

Erica gaped at him, incredulous. She was a scientist. She knew what was and was not possible. And time travel? Not possible.

“I know it must be difficult for you to believe.”

Erica frowned. Sean wasn’t a kook or a flake. She’d learned that very well during their week together. He was well grounded and possessed a tremendous sense of scientific curiosity. She knew that there were breakthroughs in science every year, but moving through time was more science fiction than science fact.

He broke into her thoughts. “Would you like a demonstration?”

She nodded and he stood. “Come here.”

He picked up the black disc and Erica stood beside him. “I’m going to move your chair five minutes into the future.”

Erica watched as he pressed a tiny button on the disc and a small window opened. He scanned the chair, then used his thumb to push several symbols that appeared on the screen. “Now watch.”

She looked at the chair and observed as it disintegrated before her eyes. “Impossible,” she whispered.

“Maybe for the science of this age. But in my time—”

“What is— When is your time?”

“Twenty-seven forty-three.”

A giant hole opened in her stomach. “That’s more than 700 years from now.”

He nodded. It made a strange kind of sense to Erica. He’d seemed like such a stranger to her world, so amazed by everything he saw and smelled and tasted. “We’ve made progress, Erica. Energy, technology, medicine, culture. Things have changed radically, and now that I’ve been here, met you, seen your world, I know that it’s not all to the good.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Our race is dying out,” he said. “And it’s attributable to a form of genetic manipulation that will be discovered and implemented in your time.”

“And you came to stop it?”

“Yes.”

“Won’t that cause a whole avalanche of repercussions in the future?” she asked, realizing that she had accepted his theorem. She actually believed he was a time traveller.

“We hope so. I was sent to interfere with the scientist who develops the process that causes our world to become physically and culturally sterile.”

“How?”

“Any way necessary. Even kill him.”

“Kill? As in murder?”

He nodded. “But I’m no killer, Erica. And I certainly can’t kill a child.”

“What? You’re scaring me, Sean!” she said, just as the chair reappeared. She sat down on it, hard. “What child?”

His jaw clenched and he looked away. “We had the dates wrong. We thought he would develop his devastating procedure in 2015. I came to intercept him a few years early — or so I thought — just to be on the safe side.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of stones that glittered in the light.

“Are those diamonds?” Erica asked.

“Yes.” He dropped what had to be a hundred diamonds on the table. “I didn’t know how long I would need to stay, and we knew diamonds have value in your time. I sold one the day I arrived. That’s the reason I have some money, how I was able to buy these clothes.”

The diamonds were astonishing. Erica didn’t know a lot about jewellery, but all of Sean’s were larger than any engagement diamond she’d ever seen. “These must be worth a million dollars.”

He shrugged. “When I first met Drew, I knew I’d come far too early. He probably developed Fusion XJ in 2035, not 2010.”

“Wait. Drew? Drew is the scien—”

She stood abruptly, her heart in her throat. She’d never believed the damn thing could break. But now she knew differently. “It’s Drew that you. Get out! Get out of my apartment, now! I can’t believe I ever—”

“Erica, wait. I’m not going to hurt Drew. I couldn’t hurt your son. I have a plan.”

Her eyes welled with tears, but she brushed them away and marched to the front door. She felt defeated inside, as though he’d just crushed every one of her newly rejuvenated emotions.

But when he came to her and embraced her, Erica found she didn’t have the power to resist. She’d been so sure they’d connected in an elemental way. She closed her eyes and tried not to feel the overpowering sense of belonging, of security, in his arms.

“Come to the future with me. You and Drew. He can grow up there and pursue his scientific career far more effectively in my century. You both can.”

He eased away from her slightly, and put a couple of fingers under her chin. There was an intensity in his eyes, a look of restrained passion. “I love you, Erica. And I’ll always want you.”

He kissed her lightly, then released her and returned to the table. Gathering up the diamonds, he brought them back to her and poured them into her hand. “These are yours to keep. You can stay and finish your studies here in 2010 without financial worries.”

She bit her lip as she gawked at the incredible wealth in her hand.

“Or you and Drew can come with me, to a world that will be new and different for all of us. Because, yes — what I’m doing now will have repercussions for the future.”

She glanced over at the strange, incredibly advanced black disc that rested on her ridiculously commonplace Formica table, and then up at Sean. She knew there was no question of what she would do.

She hugged him close, then slid her hands up to his neck and pulled him down for her kiss. “I love you, too.”

He held her close and returned her kiss, and Erica felt him pour everything he had into it before easing away. “Let’s go and wake Drew,” he said. “We ’ve got a big day ahead of us.”