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Not-green giant wasn’t there, which might be cause for concern, but then her gaze alighted on Robert, which pretty much cleared her mental decks of any and all side thoughts. To believe she’d never see him again and then to see him, well, if the peeps hadn’t been helping out, her knees would have given way. As it was, she swayed a bit and opened her mouth to shout his name to the rooftops, or maybe the top of the snow globe.

No names.

Hey seemed wrong for the moment, which felt portentous—as if he felt her gaze, he turned, searching the roof tops for what seemed a very long moment before alighting on her. It was as good as a movie moment as he stared at her staring at him. Then he launched toward her at a dead run, which was actually pretty fast.

Emily heard a sound behind her. A quick, reluctant-to-quit-looking-at-Robert glance told the tale. Zombies incoming. No head count with them all trying to push up the stairs at the same time, but it looked like a bit more than even a ninja could take. Seemed like a good moment to reciprocate the movie run toward the guy, only without the slow motion part. Thankfully the zombies had slow motion taken care of.

Her legs seemed to stride further, each step almost like flying. For the first time since she’d realized she wasn’t dreaming, Emily felt like she could take flight, like seriously fly, or least leap the distance that separated her from Robert.

She felt cautious concurrence from Wynken, a hint of doubt from Blynken. A sort of transparent ruler thing appeared in her head, or maybe before her eyes, calculating distance and trajectory. She heard shouting and saw Robert waving at her through the…HUD—a heads up display—and she wanted to wave back, but her arms and legs needed all the pumping she and the nanites could manage for her to make the gap.

You’re not going to get enough lift, girlfriend.
Blynken had gone from hint of doubt to seriously worried.

Without missing a step, Emily shifted toward a slab of something that looked a lot like a ramp leading up to the parapet. Part of her wondered what the freak she was doing thinking about distance and lift factor and the whole plan to soar the distance, but most of her saw only Robert, most of her felt like she could leap to the moon to get to him, though she was glad he wasn’t on the moon. Her world narrowed to him, his face, his eyes, his dropped jaw, his growing look of horror. He shouted something, but Emily heard only the sound of the icky air rushing past her as she went up the ramp and launched.

That’s when the sense of time slowing kicked in as she flew through the air, as she leaned, strained, mentally clawed toward Robert. It slowed even more when the numbers running through her HUD came up a few inches short of clearing the parapet.

“Oh, crap,” she drew the two words out as time sped up again. Great timing, time, way to speed up when she was on a collision course with a stone parapet.

She hit the peak of her arc and started the down the other side, the numbers changing too fast for her to know which part of her would clear the parapet—if any—and which wouldn’t.

Robert looked grim and braced to grab her after impact, which was sweet but still involved an impact, and when things seemed as dicey as they could be, the tremor hit. The building shook, making him stagger. That was expected when enduring a tremor. What wasn’t logical was that time shifting feeling again, only this time, it seemed like she saw through this reality, saw through Robert, saw through their time into another New York, one where it was day and a woman in old-fashioned clothes hung other clothes on a line strung across the roof, while some kids played a game off to the side.

And then Robert blinked out of view, leaving her flying toward a roof without him.

* * * *

Smith felt the compulsion to obey and an almost equal compulsion to fail. The laboratory, no, the alternate reality, was collapsing and the master had sent him into it to wreak final havoc on the prisoners before they all blinked out of existence. He’d seen it shrink, seen
people
, not specimens, vanishing as time unraveled. Were they disappearing in the order they’d arrived, or was it more random than that? If it was in order, then his turn was coming, he could almost feel time snapping at his heels, eager to take him. Were they returning to their lives or blinking out of existence? He wanted to turn and welcome it, but if he did, would the master take Olivia from this place? It would be like him to do that if he thought his faithful slave hadn’t given his best effort. If he thought she’d vanish—but she’d been collected later. Had to be a late collection when the master somehow sensed Smith’s interest. Until then, she was of no interest to him. He’d brought this on her, brought this on all versions of her. There could be more than one of her caught in this trap.

And if he did as he was told, would the master keep his word? If he did keep his word, it would be with conditions and only for as long as it suited him.
He still wasn’t sure he could control him.
It gave him the courage to fight it, his mind searching for ways and means. He could die here, but he wouldn’t die at peace as long as the monster lived. There had to be a way to stop him. And as his mind fought the control device, his body marched in the center of a group of the larger, dumber automatons. No sign of the soldier automatons. What did that mean? The storm was worse, also the tremors.

No question this place was closing down. He knew the signs, he’d seen them enough.

One of the big automatons tripped and staggered into a building, knocking a chunk of masonry lose. As it fell, the reality shimmered, allowing him a glimpse of real time, real New York. If only there were a way in—it vanished, taking the automaton’s arm and the chunk of rock with it.

He’d been bouncing in and out of realities for several lifetimes. Surely he could find a way—
a female with a wrench.
Who was she and how had she arrived? The monster hadn’t known. The monster was right about one thing. It was interesting. If she could arrive without an invitation, might she also know how to leave?

* * * *

Just when Robert thought he’d made progress at expecting the unexpected, Em killed that belief twice in less than a minute. First, by popping into view on the neighboring rooftop—making his heart thump with delight. He had to run toward her, though he knew he couldn’t get to her. So at first, when she reciprocated the dash it took him several seconds to realize it wasn’t going to stop at the parapet. Surely she couldn’t, she wouldn’t—this wasn’t just the unexpected. It was the crazy! His heart tried to shift from delight to horror, which hurt, and shock froze his brain, leaving him unable to process the mathematics of her chances being fed to him by Nod. He shouted, tried to wave her off, anything and everything—even as he willed her to make it, because she wasn’t going to stop. The zombies tumbling out onto the rooftop partly explained her desire to take flight, but not wholly. Not completely. He wasn’t sure which would be harder to watch. Her fighting off zombies or her trying to leap the gap.

And then the snow globe shook again, almost knocking him to his knees. He grabbed the parapet, determined to be in position to catch her when she got close enough, or even if she didn’t. He would not let her fall. Or if he couldn’t stop it, he’d fall with her. As horrified as he was, his heart shifted to delight again, and time felt slow, so slow, as she tracked toward him, her face lit with the joy of her unconventional trip, her arms extended toward him.

Just a few more feet—the horizon flickered again and it seemed that they were both in another place, a different New York from this one, or in both places? He wasn’t sure. Almost, he thought he heard children’s voices behind him, but he couldn’t look away from Em. A flicker, like electricity and Em disappeared with the alternate New York.

“No!” The word came out a strangled protest and he reached toward where she’d been—another flicker and she was back, her hands scrabbling for a hold on unyielding stone and failing to find it. Even as he processed her presence, his hands clamped onto her wrists. She slammed into the side of the building, then gravity grabbed at her, almost yanking him over the edge with her. Someone grabbed him from behind and together they pulled her up and over, collapsing in a small heap on the gritty surface.

“Thanks,” he muttered, as he dug through the huddle that was the three of them until he got his arms around Em. He yanked her close, checking her for damage, running his hands over non-controversial parts of her body, while her name ran through his brain like a litany, and tried to crawl out his throat. She returned the favor, running her hands over the parts of him she could reach while clutched to his chest. She opened her mouth to say something, but he didn’t give her a chance. He couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t hold her tight enough, couldn’t kiss her long enough…

Em.
Nowhere for the sigh to go, so it turned into an ache that was also pleasure as he inhaled Em beneath the other smells they’d both picked up along the way. The sound of several throats clearing didn’t change his focus until they did it again. And again. Finally, reluctantly, he lifted his mouth half an inch from hers. Stared deep into her brown eyes and knew he didn’t want to ever not be able to see her. Ever. She could go to the bathroom by herself, but that was it. Her gaze softened. The edges of her mouth tipped up.

“Oh…”

He had a feeling, a hope that she’d finished that with
my darling.
She leaned her head on his chest and sighed so deep he felt it in his gut.

“It’s touching, but we need to decide on a new course of—” the Colonial’s voice cut off.

Robert finally lifted his chin, trying to find a zone where he could see Em and see the Colonial, but he was gone. Biker, too. Sadly the Belle remained, her expression as sour as she looked and smelled. The horizon shimmered again and then she and Purple vanished, too. The former zombie didn’t seem to notice.

“They’re gone.” Emily peered around, just to be sure. “Just like the one I de-zombified and his zombie gang I went ninja on.”

“Who’s gone?” not-zombie asked.

“How come we know it, but he doesn’t?” Robert wondered for them both.

“Who doesn’t know what?” The not-zombie looked around, but there was no one else to find. “What?”

“And I thought the not-Belle was irritating.”

“I de-zombified him,” Robert explained, with a hint of apology in his voice. “He’s having trouble adjusting.” Trying to keep her as close as possible during the process, Robert got them both on their feet. Em didn’t fight him and might have clung a bit. A ruckus in the street had them exchanging looks, then easing up to the parapet that overlooked the street to take a look. A cluster of zombies had two men, two loudly protesting men.

“It’s the girls. I did warn them about the zombies, but they didn’t believe me.”

“They are members of the Time Council.” The not-zombie looked and sounded shaken.

Not stirred.

Blynken?
His head was starting to feel like it had a revolving door.

Em rocks. Seriously dude.

How could he complain when she fascinated him, too? He couldn’t crawl into her head, but he wanted to stay in her life. He wasn’t sure what it meant—

You’re in love, dude. Get a clue.

It made a change from oh my darling, he supposed. Interesting that Blynken had assimilated more Em talk than Nod—who now felt gone. He needed to sort out who was where, but it would have to wait. Kissing would have to wait, too. On the other hand, thinking was definitely indicated. Luckily for them both, he could listen and think at the same time.

You’re like a multitasking king, dude.

“Yeah, they said they were that,” Em said. “Not that I knew what it meant.”

“Of course you met them.” Robert wasn’t surprised. At least he’d expected this unexpected. Or had learned not to be surprised by it?

“They arrived packing self-important. I’d have let them have at it, but it seemed dirty pool after the not-Colonial helped us, so I warned them. Then they tried to bargain with the evil overlord’s name but Carig spilled it without the bargain, which made Glarmere mad.”

Inside his head, Blynken bristled and Robert knew why—though Glarmere had lost more from the confrontation with his sister than the nanites.

“It was beyond lame, because we know I don’t know anything worth bargaining over, but I thought it might matter to you. It’s some dude named Faustus—like that isn’t a total alias. They completely bought it, too, which is lame, until I told them no way any sane mom would name their kid after a creepy guy whose claim to fame was selling his soul to Satan and they said it wasn’t possible, but looked kind of aha until it sunk in they were still hosed. Which, you know, confirms my no questions position, because knowing didn’t help them. And then they attached themselves to me, which would have been mildly okay if they hadn’t shrieked like girls when I took the bug out.” She leaned into Robert, allowing him to gather her in to his heart. “I was very brave.”

A version of brave anyway. And she is a girl, so shrieking like one is okay, dude, because like, she is a chick.

He smoothed her flyaway hair back and his chest hollowed out. Blynken was right. It was love. Would she believe him? He wished the un-zombie would leave so he could find out.

“That’s a serious breach of security if that is a fake name. Not that we know any of their names. If someone knows your name, they can go back and mess with your past. Well, in theory they can go back and mess with your past. Going back isn’t that easy.”

“Wow, aha moment for me. I did wonder…” her voice trailed off and Robert wondered if the peeps had something to do with it. Not a good plan to mention them in a place so hostile to their existence.

“We should get moving,” Robert said, because they should get moving and because the not-zombie was starting to look a bit smitten with Em. While he could understand it, he didn’t like it. And he didn’t trust the guy.
Don’t believe what you’re told.
He might suck at expecting the unexpected, but he could do that one.