The sun streamed brightly through the window, warming Angela's face and bringing a smile to her lips. It was artificial sunlight; she knew that. Here in the basement of Hadley's house, no actual sunlight had a way of getting in. But it still felt good.
One of the boys was crying in the room next door. Angela listened as she rolled out of bed, determining that it sounded like Henry. She padded across the unfathomably soft carpet and opened the door to the adjoining room. "It's okay, Henry," she crooned softly. "I'm here."
She had barely picked him up when a louder, more irritated cry sounded form the crib on the other side of the room, indicating that Gregory was now awake too. Angela rocked Henry back and forth a few times, calming him down, before placing him in the definitely-not-twenty-first-century-style self-driving baby seat, which drove itself out to the apartment's small living room while she picked up Gregory and followed.
It was hard to believe that she had been living in the future for nearly two weeks already. In some ways, it felt longer; in others, much shorter. Most of her time was taken up caring for one or both of the babies, which she rather enjoyed despite the frequent crying and diaper changes. Her non-time-travel self felt the satisfaction of her years-long yearning to be a mother—though she had to keep reminding herself that she wasn't Gregory and Henry's mother; just their nanny—and her time-travel self was thrilled to be able to help out the time agents in such a big way.
And… well, she was sort of also thrilled to be living in the same house as Hadley.
Something called the "Temporal Assimilation Crew" had converted Hadley's basement into a model of a small, mostly-twenty-first-century apartment, with a kitchen, living room, bedroom, and bathroom, along with a nursery, which connected to the rest of the house. Time Council's writ of approval had expressly forbidden Angela from going beyond the babies' room, but JB and Kylin had each dropped by a few times to keep her from getting lonely, and Hadley had been coming every evening with dinner, which he and Angela ate together. These evenings had been a little awkward at first, since their relationship was still undefined, but as the days had gone on, Angela and Hadley had re-found the friendship they'd shared before, and discovered that they never ran out of things to talk about. Angela told Hadley all about her transition back to the twenty-first century as essentially two people stuffed into one, and about some of the aspects of her non-time-travel life that she was most excited about. Hadley filled her in on how the Interchronological Rescue investigations were going, and on the fact that still, no new headway had been made on re-aging baby Kevin. "If the Bureau of Aging runs any more experiments on him, he just might mysteriously disappear and end up here," he said one night, only half joking, and Angela assured him that she'd do her best to take care of all three babies if that ever happened.
Angela set about changing the babies' diapers, then went over to the refrigerator, where she retrieved two of the bottles of formula that replenished themselves several times a day. She placed them in the warmer—to the best of her understanding, it was a much faster, more efficient version of a microwave—and an instant later, they were the perfect temperature.
She picked Gregory up first—he was the fussier of the two, and tended to get cranky if not fed immediately. While she held the bottle up to his mouth, she sang the nursery rhymes that she'd sung to her siblings' kids over the years.
Her communication device chirped as soon as she'd set Gregory down and started feeding Henry. The time agency hadn't allowed her to have a full Elucidator, but they'd provided her with something that resembled a twenty-first century phone, which she could use to communicate with the time agents.
Angela glanced at the screen and saw that she'd received a text from Hadley. I have the morning off, it read. I thought we could spend some time together. I'm coming home right now with good news.
A zing of giddiness went through Angela's body. This was the first time Hadley had come home in the middle of the day to spend time with her. And what could the good news be?
"We finally got clearance to allow you to go to a few select places while you're here," Hadley told her when he arrived a few minutes later.
Angela perked up. She'd kept busy enough during her time in the future so far, but she had been starting to feel a little stir-crazy never leaving the apartment.
"It's only a park and some hiking trails for right now, which look similar enough to your native time period that Time Council isn't worried about you seeing them," Hadley explained. "But at least you'll be able to go outside and enjoy some fresh air."
"That sounds really nice," Angela said eagerly.
Hadley took something out of his pocket. "They also agreed to let me give you this, for traveling to and from those places. They insisted on disabling almost all of its features, but you can now go to the park or the trails whenever you'd like."
Angela took the Elucidator, which looked like a watch with a digital display. "Thank you," she said, attaching it to her wrist. "But I thought we were trying to avoid letting Gregory and Henry time travel?"
"You're not time traveling, just teleporting," Hadley clarified. "The process is different and doesn't affect the brain or the body in the same way. They'll be fine."
Angela had to laugh at the assertion that she was "just" teleporting.
"I was thinking that perhaps we could go check out one of those places right now, if you'd like," said Hadley. "Take the babies to the park, maybe?"
Angela thought that sounded great, so a few minutes later, she and Hadley were each holding a baby, standing by a comfortable-looking double stroller that had somehow appeared in the kitchen. "Your wristband works the same way as any other Elucidator you've used," Hadley explained. "Just like with time travel, whoever or whatever you're holding onto at the time you give the command will automatically be brought with you. Unlike time travel, teleportation isn't quite as… disorienting of a process. A small percentage of people still experience motion sickness from it, but it's not as bad as timesickness because you're only traveling side to side, not backward or forward as well."
Hadley gripped the stroller tightly, hugging Henry to his chest with his other arm. Angela made sure she was securely holding Gregory before placing her free hand on Hadley's arm. "Voice commands," she said confidently. "Take us to the park."
She felt a slight lurch as her surroundings temporarily disappeared, then almost immediately reformed into a sprawling spread of grass and trees. Hadley was right. Teleporting was nowhere near as disorienting as traveling through time.
She checked up on Gregory to see how he had fared during the trip. He seemed a little surprised, but not frightened or upset. "This is a nice place," she commented, looking around. As far as she could see, there was nothing but nature. "This is all real, right? Not an illusion like the windows in my apartment?"
"It's all real," Hadley confirmed, smiling. "We people from the future do still enjoy our natural world."
They placed the babies in the stroller and started walking, the stroller seeming almost to glide over the slightly uneven ground. It was mildly warm out, though not hot, with a comfortable breeze and a hint of a flowery aroma that suddenly made Angela think of something that had never occurred to her before. "What month is it here?" she asked Hadley.
"April," he responded. "April twenty-third."
It was so weird to think that it was April here, but almost December where Angela had come from.
"Do you guys celebrate holidays here?" Angela asked as they passed a large, colorful sculpture that looked like it might have been some sort of Easter- or spring-themed decoration. "I mean, the same ones that are celebrated in my time period?"
"Most of them," Hadley answered. "Although some of the ways in which the holidays are celebrated have evolved over time. And we have a few new holidays too, which I can't tell you anything about because they mark dates of historical significance which haven't happened yet."
"That makes sense," said Angela, although his response had just made her wonder what these dates of historical significance were going to end up commemorating.
"How are things going with Interchronological Rescue?" she asked as they strolled onward.
"Still a lot to be done," Hadley said with a sigh. "And a lot of moral and ethical dilemmas to face too. What do you do with a four-year-old who you discover is actually the same child as her alleged 'older sister' who disappeared shortly before her birth? Do you let her keep growing up as the new child, or do you re-age her and give her all of her original memories back? And if you do re-age her, do you revert her to the age she was before she was un-aged, or do you progress her to the age she would be now according to her birthdate?" He shook his head. "Of course, depending on what the tech department finds regarding our newest piece of information, we might not even have a choice."
"What's the newest piece of information?" Angela wanted to know.
Hadley gestured to the Elucidator she was wearing on her wrist. "When we went in to disable most of that Elucidator's features, we noticed that the aging commands were already toggled off. We wondered if that had anything to do with our lack of success in re-aging baby Kevin, so we checked the Elucidators that had been used for that, and found the same thing. None of the Elucidators would let us turn the feature back on. The tech department is trying to figure out how widespread this issue is and whether it's permanent."
Angela stared at him. "Permanent?"
"Maybe," Hadley reiterated. "We aren't sure yet if that's the case, or what might have caused it." He met her gaze. "All I can say is that I am very glad you and the others were reverted to your real ages before that change went into effect."
Angela felt her face warm pleasantly. He might have just been saying that because time would have been ruined if everyone hadn't been re-aged, but it felt like there was another implication behind his words.
Gregory let out a loud squealing sound, and Angela and Hadley both immediately bent down to check on him. He was pointing at something up ahead, and Angela looked up to see a bluebird fluttering from the ground up to a tree branch. "That's a bird," she told Gregory. "A blue bird."
"Bababababa," Gregory babbled.
"That's right!" Angela congratulated him. "Blue bird."
She straightened up and noticed Hadley watching her with a tender expression. "You're really good with them," he commented.
Angela's face, which had just returned to normal, heated up again. "Believe me, that's all from my other life. I did a lot of babysitting in those dimensions."
"It served you well," said Hadley.
"You're really good with the babies too," Angela remarked.
"Like you, I've had experience," he replied. "Three much-older brothers who were already having kids by the time I was ten."
"Oh?" Hadley had mentioned that he had brothers, but she hadn't heard him talk about their children. "How many nieces and nephews do you have?"
"Eight, all grown by now. I don't see them very often. My brothers were always a lot closer to each other than to me, mostly because of the age difference."
"Oh." Angela felt a pang of sympathy for Hadley. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's all right," Hadley assured her. "We do see each other from time to time, and we get along well; we just don't have a whole lot in common."
Angela was so caught up in the conversation, she hadn't noticed that they were coming up on other people until a woman's voice exclaimed, "Oh, how cute! Are they twins?"
Angela looked up to see a woman in a bizarre-looking jogging suit that almost appeared to be made out of water. She stared for a moment before catching herself and rearranging her face into a neutral expression, hoping the woman hadn't noticed.
"Not genetically, but that's how they're being raised right now," Hadley answered the woman's question.
"How old are they?" the woman asked, bending down to get a closer look.
"Four and a half months," said Hadley, sounding every bit the proud dad.
"Aww. What are their names?"
"Gregory and Henry," Angela supplied, then bit her lip, hoping those names hadn't been leaked outside of the time agency.
"Gregory and Henry," the woman crooned, smiling sweetly at the two of them. "Look at you. You two are very lucky to have such a nice mommy and daddy to take care of you."
Angela smiled awkwardly, and heard a small embarrassed-sounding laugh come from Hadley, but neither of them said anything to contradict the woman. Moments later, the woman moved on, and Angela and Hadley continued down the path, and air of awkwardness still between them.
But it does feel like we're parents and these are our kids, Angela thought. And since whatever time I spend here doesn't affect my life in the twenty-first century and vice versa… a cross-century relationship doesn't seem that impossible at all.
After a few minutes, Hadley shared a funny story about something that had happened at the time agency the other day, and they fell back into conversation. When the babies started getting fussy, Angela and Hadley each lifted one of them out of the stroller to feed them and change their diapers. "This looks like a good spot for a picnic," Hadley determined. "Are you hungry?"
Angela nodded, so Hadley typed something into his Elucidator and a large picnic blanket appeared, along with some sandwiches, fruit, and chips.
"Is this normal in your time period, using the Elucidator for food like that?" Angela asked as they sat down. "I know JB and I did it all the time in 1932, but is that just how people get food in their everyday lives here?"
"No," Hadley replied with a chuckle. "That's how time agents on the go get their meals sometimes, but most people just order delivery or make meals at home, much like in your time period. Elucidators aren't available to the general public."
"Oh. That makes sense." Angela hadn't really thought about the availability of Elucidators before.
They enjoyed their meals, and let the babies lie on the picnic blanket for a little while, Gregory trying to roll over while Henry kept himself propped up on his arms. "They're so easy at this age," Angela commented. "I'll really have my hands full in a couple months when they start crawling." She smiled at the vision of both of them crawling around the apartment, then felt her smile waver. "I mean, if things haven't been resolved yet by that time," she amended, saddened by the idea that she might not ever get to see them crawl at all, and she almost certainly wouldn't get to see them walk. Sometimes she forgot that this situation was only temporary.
Hadley looked at her, and she could tell he knew exactly what she was thinking. "It's going to be hard to let them go," he said softly. "Even if everything works out the way I want it to, with them getting adopted by regular civilian families who have no knowledge of who they once were—even if I get to pick their families—I'm going to really miss them."
Angela nodded, her throat so choked up she couldn't speak.
They sat in silence for a moment, before Hadley spoke up again, a little gruffly. "Well, for right now I'm just happy to have this time with them. And with you."
"I am too," Angela said, looking up into his kind, handsome face. They held each other's gaze for a long moment, and then Angela leaned in and kissed him.
Hadley wrapped her in his arms and kissed her back.