Time and Again

was as attractive and disarming as it was in the flesh. The ID
    claimed that he was a United States citizen and licensed to pilot all A to F model ships. It listed his height as 185.4 cm, his weight as 70.3 kg. Hair black, eyes blue. And his birth date was- 2222.
    "Oh, my God," Libby whispered.
    "You forgot to take that breath." He closed a hand over hers on the card. "Libby, I'm thirty. When I left L.A. two months ago it was February, 2252."
    "That's crazy."
    "Maybe, but it happened."
    "This is a trick." She pushed the card back into his hand and sprang up. Her heart was racing so hard and fast that she could feel it vibrating between her temples. "I don't know why you're doing this, but it's all some kind of elaborate trick. I'm going home."
    She rushed toward the hatch just as the door closed. "Sit down, Libby. Please." He saw the wild, trapped look in her eyes and forced himself not to step toward her. "I'm not going to hurt you. You know that. Just sit down, and listen."
    Because she was angry that she had tried to run, she walked stiffly back and sat down. "So?"
    He sat opposite her, steepled his fingers and thought it all through. There were times, he supposed, when it was best to treat an abnormal situation as if it were normal. "You didn't have any breakfast," he said abruptly. Pleased with the inspiration, he opened a small door and took out a glossy silver pouch. "How about ham and eggs?" Without waiting for an answer, he swiveled, opened another door and tossed the pouch inside. He pushed a button, then sat smiling at her until a buzzer sounded. Taking a plate out of another compartment, he opened the door and scooped out a heap of steaming eggs loaded with chunks of ham.
    Libby locked her icy hands in her lap. "You're full of tricks."
    "No trick. Irradiation. Come on, taste." He held the plate under her nose. "They're not as good as yours, but they'll do in a pinch. Libby, you have to believe what's in front of your eyes."
    "No." Very slowly, she shook her head from side to side. "I don't think I do."
    "Not hungry?"
    She shook her head again, more firmly this time. With a shrug, Cal plucked a fork from a drawer and dug in.
    "I know how you feel."
    "No, you don't." She took his advice, belatedly, and sucked in three long breaths. "You're not sitting in what looks like a spaceship having a conversation with a man who claims to be from the twenty-third century."
    "No, but I'm sitting in my ship talking to a woman who's a couple of centuries older than I am."
    She blinked at that, then found laughter-only slightly hysterical-bubbling out. "This is ludicrous."
    "Oh, yeah."
    "I'm not saying I believe it."
    "Give it time."
    Her hand was no longer cold, but it was still unsteady when she pressed it to her head. "I need to think."
    "Fine."
    With a sigh, she sat back and studied him. "I'll take that breakfast now."

CHAPTER 6
    The eggs were bland, but they were certainly hot. Irradiated, Libby thought as she took a second bite.
    She'd heard of the controversial process for preserving food. Still, it was a far cry from a microwave TV dinner.
    Somehow she'd woken up in the middle of a science-fiction movie.
    "I keep telling myself there has to be another explanation."
    Cal polished off his eggs. "Let me know if you find one."
    Dissatisfied, she set her plate aside. "If all this is real, you seem to be taking it very calmly."
    "I've had some time to get used to it. Are you going to eat the rest of that?"
    She shook her head, then turned to stare through the clear shield. She saw a pair of elk meander into the trees about a hundred yards away. A beautiful sight, she mused. Beautiful, and normal here in the mountains of Oregon. If the elk had wandered down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan they would still have been beautiful, and they would still have been real. But, for reasons of basic geography, they wouldn't have been normal.
    There was no denying that Cal was real. Was it possible that he and his incredible vehicle were a perfectly normal sight in another place? In another time?
    If it were true- if she allowed herself for just one moment to believe it- How must he feel? She looked at the elk again. They were standing in a patch of sunlight. Mustn't he be feeling as confused and displaced as any animal taken out of its natural habitat and tossed into a strange world?
    She remembered the panic she had seen on his face the day he'd come to her with a paperback novel. A novel published this year, Libby reflected. She'd