Pancakes
It was really, really late.
Or maybe it was really, really early. Zane wasn't sure. His brain was too busy to let him sleep.
First, there was the science. Those equations of Henry's had been like catching a glimpse of Kubla Khan. Like Coleridge, he knew that there was some perfect beauty just out of reach within his brain if only he could find it.
Then there was the plan of the future Eurekans. They'd spent hours outlining the tasks they had for Zane and Jo, but he knew – from glances they'd exchanged, from Future Jo's grim look, and maybe just from the prickling at the nape of his neck – that there was information they weren't sharing. What he didn't know was why. Every time he pushed, they answered with the annoyingly vague, "Our computer simulations show…"
Computer simulations, ha.
And then there was Lupo. Okay, so he'd known that there was something she hadn't told him, but time travel? She'd had his grandmother's engagement ring, which meant that in some version of their history, he'd already proposed to her. Proposed! That was so not in his plans. Sure, it was kinda cool to realize that they could have a happy-ever-after – or at least a seemingly-happy-next-twenty-some-years-or-so-after – but they were barely even friendly. There was no way he was marrying her anytime soon. Honestly, waking up married to a stranger was his worst nightmare. Although seeing what she was like here in the future sure provided some nice motivation.
He tossed restlessly in bed, then rolled to one side and stared at the wall as if he could see through it if he just tried hard enough. Was Lupo awake, too?
They'd talked with the others until late in the evening, before Future Jo had suggested they sleep at S.A.R.A.H. and talk more in the morning. Apparently, they couldn't remain in the future for long: their presence would quickly start a series of temporal anomalies caused by exotic particles that would tear apart the fabric of the timeline, collapsing past and present. Even Zane was willing to agree that that didn't sound good.
But he wanted to talk to Jo. And without the others around. He wanted to know what she thought about what they'd heard — and not heard.
Abruptly, he sat up. "S.A.R.A.H.?" He'd never spent the night in the smart house before, but of course she ought to be awake and listening.
"Yes, Zane?" came the prompt reply.
"What time is it?"
"4:32 AM. Despite the hour, I detect from the current low levels of adenosine in your system that you are unlikely to sleep without assistance. Would you like a sleeping aid? Or would you prefer a caffeinated beverage?"
Okay, that was just creepy. "Neither, thanks." Zane kicked the covers off, and stood, feeling around for the clothes he'd dropped on the floor. "Is Lupo awake?"
The lights slowly turned up as Zane found his pants and t-shirt and pulled them on. He didn't bother with shoes and socks, but headed across the short hallway to where Jo should be.
"Jo has been asleep for approximately three hours, and is currently in the N3 stage of non-rapid eye movement sleep, which is the deepest stage prior to—," S.A.R.A.H.'s words broke off as Zane began to open Jo's door, and she finished in a hasty whisper, "—which means you shouldn't disturb her."
The room was dark and S.A.R.A.H. was not helpfully turning up the lights this time, so Zane paused to let his eyes adjust. The illumination from his room was just enough to make out the outlines of the furniture. "Jo?"
She didn't answer so he stepped inside. Lupo might be pissed but he really needed to talk to her. Of course, if she slept in the nude, she'd probably break his arm before he got the chance, but seeing her naked might be worth a broken bone or two.
"Lupo?" he called her name again, voice soft.
"Lupo-Donovan." A cranky childish voice corrected him. "And go away, Daddy. Mommy said I could sleep with her tonight."
Zane paused. Daddy? "Uh, S.A.R.A.H.?" he asked.
"She did it again." The artificial intelligence's voice sounded as tight with frustration as an AI could sound. "Caiti, how did you get in here?"
A long, sleepy sigh came from the direction of the bed and Zane took a couple steps closer. "I used my invisibility worm," the little girl murmured, adding with what sounded like a yawn. "I like it."
"Subverting my security protocols is bad manners, Caiti," S.A.R.A.H. scolded the child. "You know your mother said the last time that if you did it again, she'd take your tablet away."
"No!" There was movement and a rustle from the other side of the room. Zane strained to see in the darkness: Jo hadn't stirred, as far as he could tell, but a small figure slipped out of bed, rummaged on the floor, then hurried to the door, clutching a tiny hand-held device the size of a cell phone. He stepped out of the way, but then followed, fascinated, as she rushed down the stairs and over to the access panel. She was doing something with the device, but he couldn't quite see what.
"What are you doing, Caiti?" asked S.A.R.A.H., tone a warning, but before she could continue with any more threats, she added, sounding surprised. "Zane? Hmm, there must be a glitch in my programming, I didn't see you get up."
"Um, I'm not sure I'd call it a glitch exactly," Zane responded, eyes on Caiti. She'd turned around and was facing him, chewing on her lower lip, still looking sleepy. "What did you do?" he asked the little girl.
"Made myself invisible." She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "Just had to erase a little short-term memory."
"I don't know what you mean," S.A.R.A.H. responded.
"And how did you do that?" Zane asked patiently. The little girl was wearing an over-sized t-shirt that was half slipping off her. Her long dark hair was a mess, tangled and disheveled. She was cute, in a generic pixie girl sort of way, but her blue eyes made the experience just a little surreal: there wasn't a doubt in his mind that this kid was his daughter. His daughter. How strange was that?
"Do what?" S.A.R.A.H. asked.
"Don't talk to me," Caiti ordered. "I want my breakfast. You have to get it, 'cause I'm invisible."
"You look pretty visible to me," Zane told her. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or not.
"Zane, who are you talking to?" S.A.R.A.H. asked suspiciously.
Caiti put an urgent finger across her lips, shushing him, but it was too late.
"Initiating emergency shut-down and system analysis," S.A.R.A.H. said abruptly. "All non-essential systems going offline." With a whir, and a series of quick beeps, the lights turned on to a standard daylight level and a ventilation fan began running.
"S.A.R.A.H.?" Zane asked, but there was no answer from the AI.
"Darn it, Daddy," Caiti complained, stamping one small foot on the floor. "Now you have to make the pancakes and you don't do it as good as S.A.R.A.H."
"Um, kid, I've never made a pancake in my life," Zane answered. Cook? He didn't cook.
She frowned at him. "Yes, you have. You make me pancakes lots of times." She came back to where he was standing at the base of the stairs, and took his hand, looking up at him worriedly. "Mommy says granola with yogurt is better but you say as long as I drink all my milk, I can have pancakes."
He looked down at her. The worried expression on her face made her look just like Lupo for a moment, and he almost had to hold his breath with the shock of it. He and Lupo had kids. Cute kids. Smart kids.
"I'm sorry I said you didn't make them as good as S.A.R.A.H.," Caiti continued earnestly. "She makes really good pancakes, though, you know she does."
"What have you done to S.A.R.A.H.?" Zane asked, trying to focus on the important questions and not think about pancakes and mornings with Jo and arguing over the proper breakfast for their kids. Their kids.
She sighed. "She figures it out faster every time," she said mournfully. "I can't change her long-term memory, just her short-term." But then she brightened. "It works great everyplace else, though." Tugging at his hand, she began to pull him toward the kitchen.
"What exactly is it?" he asked, following obediently.
"You know. My invisibility worm. Up, please." She pointed at the kitchen cupboards, and with a shrug, Zane lifted her up to the countertop. She was surprisingly light and for a moment, he wondered how old she was. Six, seven? He didn't know enough about little kids to know how to tell.
"Tell me more."
She looked at him doubtfully, then shrugged. "You know, Daddy. All the sensors still record me, but my worm looks for data that matches me – like my DNA or my image – and stops it from being recorded in any information storage systems. S.A.R.A.H.'s cameras know I'm here but they don't tell S.A.R.A.H.'s memory that I'm here." As she chatted, she walked daintily along the countertop, opening cabinets and taking items out. "If it's not recorded, you know, it's like you don't exist."
Zane suspected that he should disapprove of her walking on the counter. And probably he should also tell her that her worm was a very bad idea, although it sounded really clever to him. "When you say everyplace else, what places are you talking about? GD? Town? Banks?" he asked. He couldn't stop himself from imagining the things he could do.
Caiti grinned at him. "I let it go viral," she admitted. "So anywhere that's connected to the internet. But don't tell Mommy, she wouldn't like it."
She pointed at the pile – bowls, flour, salt, baking powder, sugar, vanilla – then pointed at the refrigerator. "Okay, pancakes now, Daddy."
A/N: Fluffy, fluffy, fluffy, I know. But it was either this or totally dark and depressing. I'll let Jo and Zane get on with saving the world in the next chapter. Maybe.
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