Exhaustion:

Three days later, James wanted to scream.

And the fact he was in a library at the time wasn't helping. There was nothing—nothing he could do to even begin to duplicate Dr. Temporal's device, even if he could have done so in the pre-future. James was smart, but this was Wade level engineering with a dash of Mr. Lipsky-Go at his smartest. Add in the fact he'd have to build the tools to build the tools to build the gadget that would make the device…

"And materials developments, and programming breakthroughs, and power systems…" James muttered. OH, he could get to the future doing this—it would probably be about the time they'd been tossed back when he finally got everything together to make the damned attempt. He grabbed his reddish blonde hair and resisted the impulse to start pulling it out.

Of course there would be a way to do it, easily and quickly—walk into any lab with their PDAs, communicators and other gadgets and they'd have all the money and aid they wanted…as well as completely blowing the timeline.

And that was best case. James hadn't mentioned it to Cindy, but if the idea that the past was fixed was correct, then it was very likely the universe would insure that no such disruption could occur, so James was very carefully not even thinking of doing that.

"Probably won't nova our star…" He said, remembering the Larry Niven story, "But there are plenty of other ways to insure two kids don't break reality." After all, two unidentified dead bodies in the cold case files would be a lot less disruptive than letting technology out.

Which wasn't the only problem. Logan's Run had been fun, and Cindy had even laughed at parts of it… but on the way back to the apartment, she'd become quieter, morose, and that had continued. Not touchy—in fact she was quieter than she usually had been at school. One thing nobody ever had a problem with back home was telling if Cindy Lipsky-Go was unhappy. (Or happy for that matter). He peeked at her over his papers and there she was, head in a manual of practical genetics (far obsolete even for a high school book in their time).

Right now, half the time Cindy would only grunt. The only thing she'd get upset about was if he suggested using the kitchenette. In fact she'd almost bitten his head off for that.

Okay, granted, he'd almost bitten her head off when she'd suggested they just leave New York. Worse, she had a point. They'd made waves here, even if they were small. Her idea to take a bus or train across country to Los Angeles made sense.

And James was trying to figure out why he had gotten so, well…pissy about that.

They still slept in the same bed, but after the first night, both he and Cindy had managed to stick to their sides.

Did I do something wrong? James wondered, and then started as Cindy closed her book with a slam that had a librarian look up in surprise.

"Let's go." She said.

"It's only 3:30-"

"Let's. Go." Cindy repeated in a cold voice. She turned and walked out, James following her, confused.

He almost had to trot after her, back to the apartment, and let himself in with the Key, since Cindy had locked the door after she'd unlocked it.

"Cindy? Cin?" James called, but there was nothing. He walked into the bedroom and looked around, then looked over to the open window. He peeked out and saw Cindy's leg vanishing over the lip of the roof above. James blinked and followed her. They'd left a small rope dangling after the first night, since it would provide a convenient exit if they needed to run, but he hadn't used it since then.

The roof was flat, save for the ventilation equipment, and the chimney that handled the various fireplaces. Cindy was sitting on the lip of the roof, looking out over the city, heat waves making it shimmer. James shook his head. He was almost used to the smell of exhaust that seemed to permeate the air in this time.

"Cindy?" He asked.

"Go, away." She said, and James blinked. She really sounded like mom when she was in one of her "low swings" as dad called them.

"Sorry." James said, "I really think maybe…we should talk?"

"What's there to talk about?" Cindy muttered, "We can't get back. We can't build a machine or a sleep pod and so we just have to go back the old fashioned way and that means that we'll be able to see our parents again or our friends or even your sister or the Gemlins, when we're older than our grand parents!" that last came out as a wail.

James bit his lip. He had really been trying not to think of that. Dad's dinners, mom working with him on martial arts…them just listening to him.

There was nobody else right now to listen to him. Except for Cindy.

Everything they knew was nearly 50 years in the future. They would be…

65.

Sixty-five. James hadn't really thought about it, but now….they would be older than their grand parents. If they couldn't find any other way, they'd nearly be at the end of their lives the next time they would actually be able to speak with their parents. He looked at his hand and realized that it was trembling.

Deep breaths. He thought, and started up in the relaxation techniques that… Dad, Aunt Hanna… and Mom had taught him…. James ground his teeth which was really preferable to screaming or bursting into tears. Cindy had pulled her legs up, knees below her chin, putting her face down in her arms and he could see that she was trembling even through the heat. The sounds of the city came to them, and if James looked out, it almost looked the same.

Almost. There were the twin towers of the World Trade Center, standing proud, as they hadn't since before he had been born. The street lights and the cars were all different, the people wearing different clothes, speaking of different things . South Vietnam's fall was still a topic of conversation, not something that you read about in a dusty old book or data file to finish a report.

And we have to hide. Mom and Dad had spoken of just how badly they disliked people who walked by and did nothing… but James and Cindy, as a matter of survival, not just for themselves, but everyone they knew, would have to do the same thing.

The world will march by, and we'll find some place in the middle of the Midwest, or an out of the way part of Europe, and…let it. Let all the evil go by. James wasn't as dedicated (read: fanatical) as his mother could be, but that thought twisted in his guts. He wouldn't even be able to do what he liked, because they couldn't risk a technological leak…either live off of the gambling, while being careful to avoid problems, or find some job that wouldn't disrupt things.

Like being a postman.

Cindy was now shivering like she was freezing, but then Cindy had taken one thing from her mother, a great hatred of being out of control. Just like James' mom, which probably explained why they either got along famously or had people running for cover, but very rarely anything in between.

Just like they would, that is. Neither one existed right now.

"Cin." James said, and sat down beside her. Part of it was to see if she needed anything but right now James needed something.

"What?" She said in a choked voice, and he realized another reason she had her head down. "Did you find a catalogue for time machines?"

"No…and I checked everywhere…" He paused, "Even the comic books, but they only have X-ray specs." That got a half heated laugh. James hesitated and put his arm around Cindy. Cindy didn't hesitate and leaned back into him, her head nestling into his shoulder. James diplomatically avoided commenting about the moisture on her cheeks.

"It'd be easier if this was some alien world." James said softly, "I mean, there wouldn't be anything familiar."

"Yeah." Cindy said, "Our grand parents are alive right now… and only a few years older or younger than we are…we could go see them, but…"

"We don't dare." James said and Cindy was pulling closer to him, as she put her arm around him.

"That's why I yelled about the food." Cindy continued, "as long as we're eating out, maybe it's just a short thing and we'll be back home, but if we start cooking…in the kitchen, then that's like saying…"

"That this is gonna be home?"

"Yes." That came out a whisper.

"Yeah." James said. The two held each other, not moving or speaking as the sun slowly started to descend. It was summer, in Greenwich Village, and they could hear some of the street performers.

"This is an awfully big city." James said, "and there's fun stuff here."

"What? But the library-"

"I can't think of anything else to do." James said, "Can you?"

"No."

"Then lets have some fun." James said and suddenly grinned, "Because we have all the time in the world here…" He paused, "Literally….so maybe we need to stop trying so hard and just pause."

"That sounds like your dad."

"Yep, and think of all the stories where something just…happened." More seriously, "Besides, really, is it gonna help if we drive ourselves nuts?"

"No." Cindy said and then, "are we giving up?"

"Never. We're taking a breather."

TBC.