She knew what she must do next. She had to jump thirty or forty years into the past, while maintaining her spatial location here in the Fleet Base exchange area.
But exactly what time should she jump to? It had to be precise, so she would end up when she knew she must.
Or did it? Could she simply jump to any time between thirty and forty years? Would she be guaranteed to end up where she had, because she had?
Either way, she had no choice. She did not know the exact time she must achieve, so she could not possibly achieve it. And so, she split the difference- thirty-five years into the past.
At first she thought her surroundings had not changed in the least. Then she noticed that the crowd was considerably thinner than it had been an instant before. And the shops were slightly different, too. They looked somehow newer. Yet she was still on Luna, definitely in the Fleet exchange area.
She started for the side corridor where the curio shop was located. There was less dust on the corridor floor than there had been the last time she had been here. Before she reached the shop she stopped dead in her tracks, a cold shiver running up her spine.
The sign above the shop's entrance was different. Where before it had read, Eddie's Out-System Curios, it now read, Sylvia's Fine Clothes.
She glanced around. Most of the shops seemed to house the same businesses they had in her own time, but a few did not. There was an arcade where there should have been a small Greek restaurant, a low-grav gym where an electronics repair shop stood in her time. And where the curio shop should have been stood a boutique.
Had her jumping around somehow altered the past? She knew it had to some extent, but had she caused this? Had she so changed what she thought of as reality that she would never be able to bring about what she knew she must in order to succeed?
Perhaps not. Maybe this far back, the curio shop had been a boutique. But if that was true, how could she possibly sell the pendant to the old man?
She went down the short corridor to the boutique's door and it irised open. Inside were racks of clothing. She stepped back into the corridor and the door irised closed.
There was no doubt about it-this was not the correct time. She had gone too far into the past.
But how far up the time line into the future should she go? A year? Two years?
One year, she decided, simply because she had to decide something. She formed the thought in her mind, then jumped.
The headache flared behind her eyes. Then the snowflake pattern and the mantra. But neither seemed to work any longer. As before, the headache remained worse than it had been after her previous jump.
And the sign remained the same.
But perhaps…
She stepped to the door and it irised open. Within were the shelves she remembered from her own time, although they were considerably less cluttered.
Once inside, the door irised closed behind her. She took the pendant from the pouch at her waist, put it back around her neck with its twin, then started down the aisle between the rows of shelves.
"Can I help you…?" came a familiar paper-thin voice from behind.
She turned around. The man didn't look much younger than he had been in Susan's time.
"Tann-," she started, making her voice two octaves lower than usual. But then she realized she probably shouldn't give her real name. "Hansen," she finished, "Brian Hansen."
"Can I be of some assistance, Mr. Hansen?" Her disguise had worked.
"Yes," she said. "I would like to sell one of these." She lifted the pendants from around her neck.
"Just one?"
She nodded. "I must keep one." She put one in the pouch at her waist, then held the other out to the old man. She felt the weight of the pendant in the pouch disappear as he took the one she offered.
"I'm afraid I can't give you much for it," he said. "Where is it from?"
"The Crab Nebula, from a planet circling its star of origin."
He nodded. "What is it?"
"Just a pendant. Jewelry."
He shrugged. "Like I said, I can't give you much."
"That's fine. I just want to sell it."
"I could give you a bit more for both." Susan shook her head, and he shrugged again. "Follow me," he said.
She followed him to the back of the shop. The same green terminal sat atop the desk as had in her time. She almost pulled her LIN/C from its pouch, then noticed there was no slot to receive it in the terminal. Now, more than thirty years before she had first met this man, the LIN/C hadn't yet been developed.
"Didn't there used to be a boutique here?" she asked as the old man sat and began typing at the terminal.
"Yes." He worked at the keyboard as if unaccustomed to using it. "They went out of business, and I took this spot over three weeks ago. I haven't even had time to change the sign outside. By the way, how did you know I was here?"
"A friend told me," she lied.
Again he nodded. "I don't know what to call this place when I finally get around to having a sign made."
"What's your name?" Of course, she knew what it was.
"Sims," he said. "Roger Sims."
Her heart stopped beating. His name was wrong. It had to be Eddie. She thought fast.
"I don't think that will look good on the sign."
"Why not?"
"Somehow, it just doesn't sound right."
She was quiet for a few seconds, thinking. Where had Eddie come from?
"What's your middle name?"
"Edward." And she breathed a silent sigh of relief.
"How about using that in the sign. Maybe Eddie's Out-System Curios?"
The old man repeated the name. Then was quiet for a few seconds. Finally, he said, "It does sound good. I just might use it."
He handed Susan two and a half credits, and she put the money in the pouch that only a few seconds before had held the other pendant. "Thanks," she said as she turned and walked to the door.
The old man followed. On her way down the aisle Susan heard him drop the pendant on a shelf. The door irised open.
"Come again," he said as she stepped out into the corridor.
"I will," she responded without looking back. She didn't tell him it would be thirty-six years in the future.
Chapter Thirty-three
Photon, she thought as she stepped out into the corridor. The ship would be her next destination. To Photon, and her own time.
Yet, she didn't know where that ship was located. It had been moved from its hangar, somewhere out onto Luna's surface. But to where?
Hyatt's private launch site-wherever that was.
Perhaps she didn't have to know exactly where it was. She had just jumped to a time she had not been sure of. Maybe she could do the same with space.
Of course she could; she had done precisely that the last time she had jumped to Photon. The ship had been in deep space then, and there was absolutely no way she could have known where in space it was located.
The headache pounded behind her eyes, scattering her thoughts. She needed all the concentration she could gather in order to do what she knew she must; she would have to center her entire attention on getting to Photon if the process was going to stand even the slightest chance of working.
Clearing her thoughts, she drew in a deep breath, then formed the vague thought of the time she wanted, planting it as firmly in her mind as possible. Finally, she visualized the ship.
Instantly, the corridor around her vanished…
…to be replaced by Photon's no-nonsense interior.