The Grandmother Paradox Read online

  Praise for the Place in Time series

  “Nikel’s inventive spin on time travel and eye for sumptuous detail make her writing a treat to read.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “The Continuum packs a staggering amount of well drawn world-building into a short space, making for enough time travel adventure to launch a series…full of heart, humor, and thrilling action and adventure scenes that make for a fun, fast read.”

  —Foreword Reviews

  “Nikel’s time travel narrative is brisk and energetic, with a relatively straightforward and action oriented plot…those interested in a light and enjoyable SF read in the style of popular time-travel tropes such as Doctor Who should give it a look.”

  —IndiePicks Magazine

  “Fans of Jules Verne, Dr. Who and Quantum Leap (minus the body jumping) should settle in for a time traveling puzzle that keeps our heroine on her toes.”

  —Tangent Online

  “Nikel is a solid writer with vivid description, an imaginative future, and a command of accurate historical speech.”

  —Unreliable Narrators

  Description

  When Dr. Wells, the head of the Place in Time Travel Agency, learns that someone’s trying to track down the ancestors of his star employee, there are few people he can turn to without revealing her secrets. But who better to jump down the timeline and rescue Elise from being snuffed out of existence generations before she’s born than the very person whose life she saved a hundred years in the future?

  But Juliette Argent isn’t an easy woman to protect. The assistant to a traveling magician, she’s bold, fearless, and has a fascination with time travel, of all things. Can the former secret agent Chandler, with his knowledge of what’s to come, keep her safe from harm and keep his purpose there a secret? Or will his presence there only entangle the timeline more?

  The Grandmother Paradox

  A Place in Time Novella (#2)

  Wendy Nikel

  World Weaver Press

  Copyright Notice

  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of World Weaver Press.

  THE GRANDMOTHER PARADOX

  Copyright © 2018 Wendy Nikel

  All rights reserved.

  Published by World Weaver Press, LLC

  Albuquerque, New Mexico

  www.WorldWeaverPress.com

  Cover layout and design by Sarena Ulibarri

  Cover images used under license from Shutterstock.com.

  First edition: July 2018

  Also available in paperback - ISBN-13: 978-0998702285

  ASIN (mobi): B07C58K7Q7

  B&N ISBN (ePub): 2940155613275

  Kobo ISBN (ePub): 1230002267135

  This novella contains works of fiction; all characters and events are either fictitious or used fictitiously.

  Please respect the rights of the author and the hard work they’ve put into writing this book: Do not copy. Do not distribute. Do not post or share online. If you like this book and want to share it with a friend, please consider buying an additional copy.

  THE GRANDMOTHER PARADOX

  THE PLACE IN TIME TRAVEL AGENCY’S TEN ESSENTIAL RULES OF TIME TRAVEL

  1. Travelers must return to their original era as scheduled.

  2. Travelers are prohibited from Jumping to any time they have already experienced.

  3. Travel dates must be prior to the traveler’s birth.

  4. Travel within the Black Dates is prohibited.*

  5. Only pre-approved objects may be taken into the past.

  6. Travelers are prohibited from disclosing information about PITTA or its excursions.

  7. Travelers are prohibited from disclosing any foreknowledge to people of the past.

  8. Travelers must avoid all unnecessary fraternization with people of past eras.

  9. Extractions must occur in secure, unobservable locations.

  10. After Extraction, clients must immediately return their Wormhole Devices to PITTA headquarters.

  *for complete list of Black Dates, see PITTA handbook Appendix B

  CHAPTER ONE: April 15, 2113

  I haven’t seen the old man in a hundred years, but when the doorbell chimes and the screen lights up, there he is. He can’t be much older than the last time we met—a few years, at the most—but seeing him here, instead of in that darkened bunker that blinked and hummed with that crazy machine of his, was a bit akin to seeing a circus elephant wandering around the airtrain station. When I open the door, he’s studying my 22nd century apartment building with its seamless façade and rotating solar panels that look nothing like the ones of his day.

  “Agent Chandler!” he greets me.

  “Been a long time since someone called me that.”

  He offers a handshake and I take it unthinkingly, quickly falling into old habits in this strange out-of-time moment.

  “Of course,” he says. “So good to see you again. Do you mind if I step inside? We have some important matters to discuss, and your front stoop perhaps isn’t the best place to do so.”

  “Sure.” What choice do I have? He’s sure to draw curious looks with those horn-rimmed spectacles, flat cap, tweed jacket, and corduroy pants. You’d think Dr. Wells, of all people, would be more careful about what he wears while time-traveling. Then again, his business is in the vast reaches of the past, not the shiny, synthetic future where I currently live. No, I think, not the future. How long before I stop thinking of it like that?

  “Make yourself at home.” I gesture vaguely toward my living room, seeing it now as Dr. Wells would: the memory foam futon made of 100% recycled, hypoallergenic materials, the empty biodegradable food containers from the past week’s worth of Punch-In meals, a scattering of personal visual devices (which to him probably look like regular silver sunglasses) lying in various states of disrepair. I swipe up some of Dodge’s half-completed study cubes off the coffee table to clear a space for my guest. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Dr. Wells shakes his head, settling himself onto the futon and looking so out of place I can’t help but grin. I’d probably laugh out loud were it not for the feeling like quicksand settling in my stomach. The last time I’d seen him, he’d slipped me a warning that my employer was plotting to kill me. The fact that he’s here, paying a visit to me now, means something is very wrong.

  I settle into an armchair I’ve always thought was uncomfortable but can’t get rid of; my adopted son Dodge loves it and I wouldn’t dream of denying him something as simple as a favorite chair after all he’s been through. “What’s up, Doc?”

  Dr. Wells looks up, startled, and gives me a sad-looking grin. “Did she tell you she used to say that? It was our little joke.”

  “Who, Elise?” When I’d known her, she’d been so serious, so focused on returning me to the 21st century that I find it hard to picture her laughing and joking around with her boss like that. “Afraid that’s a side of her I didn’t get to see. How is she?”

  “She’s safe. It’s probably better you don’t know more than that. You know how it is in this business.”

  I nod. That’s all I need to know. It’s been a year now since she helped Dodge and me escape from an experimental colony in space before it was destroyed by an asteroid. My former employers had hired her—a professional time traveler who worked at Dr. Wells’s clandestine time travel agency—to track me down and kick me back to the 21st century where I belonged. I’ll be forever grateful to her for letting me slip away and telling
my employers that I’d been lost with the colony.

  “Actually,” Dr. Wells says, fiddling with the watch on his wrist, “the issue I’ve come to discuss with you today involves her.”

  My heart skips a beat. “You said she’s okay, though, right?”

  “Oh, yes,” Dr. Wells nods, his head bobbing comically. “That is… She’s not in any immediate harm’s way. Not directly. Though indirectly…”

  “Tell me.” My fingers tighten around the arms of the chair, and I force them off and wipe my sweaty palms on my silvery suit. If anything were to happen to Elise… Not that she can’t take care of herself, but still… “What happened?”

  “Oh, nothing yet,” the wide-eyed scientist says, taking off his glasses and polishing them on the hem of his shirt. “Though with time travel, you understand how muddled these things become.”

  “Fine, then what will happen? Just tell me what the problem is, and I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  Dr. Wells nods grimly. “I knew I could count on you.”

  What have I just agreed to?

  Never mind that. After all Elise has done to help me, I’d do anything to help her. Although… My eyes wander to some bricks Dodge left on the table. There’s plenty of PVD games that mimic interlocking tactile construction, and the vintage toys cost me an arm and a leg at an antique shop, but every eight-year-old boy needs his own LEGOs.

  “How long will this take?” I ask.

  “Goodness, I have no idea. Days… weeks… months, perhaps.”

  “Months?” My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

  “Oh, yes. Elise told me about your ward. Don’t you worry. I’ll have you back here before he gets home from school.”

  “How do you intend to do that?”

  “Time travel,” Dr. Wells says with a wink. He digs in his jacket pocket. “I’ve improved the methods a bit since your last travels; the annual interval is still the most energy-efficient way to travel, but if you don’t mind a few side effects—nausea, vertigo, and the like—I can get you back within twenty-four hours of when you left. Now, we’ll just pop on back to my office and I’ll fill you in on the details while you select your wardrobe. Not knowing how long you’ll be gone, we’d best ensure a good fit.”

  “Your office?” I ask. “In New York, you mean?”

  In the past. My true present.

  Dr. Wells pulls out a set of palm-sized spheres so glossy and black they remind me of the endless, empty sky. The last time I saw one of those was with Elise, back on the space colony, minutes before it burst into a billion tiny shards of light. I draw in my breath.

  Dr. Wells places the orb in my hand and closes my fingers around it. It feels cold and hard and impossibly smooth. A tremor of apprehension works its way down my spine.

  “Sure about this, old man?” I smile, one of my common defense mechanisms. “It has to be me?”

  “I’m afraid so. There are very few people who know that Elise escaped the Continuum disaster, and—for her sake—it’s best if we keep it that way. Just press the button when you’re ready.”

  Dodge’s boots sit beside the door, their soles cracked and fasteners fraying. He needs a new pair soon; the kid is going through another growth spurt.

  “And you swear I’ll come right back here, when it’s all said and done?” My voice catches, and I clear my throat, trying to recapture my usual steady demeanor. “Right back to this time, this place?”

  Dr. Wells meets my eye. “I swear.”

  I know about his Rules, the foremost being that all travelers must return to their own era of origin. We both know I’m not really from the 22nd century, that I was born in 1985 and ought to be living back in the age of iPhones and Segways, rather than this shining era of clean energy, holographic interfaces, and instant food delivery a hundred years in the future.

  “I know it goes against your first Rule.”

  “It does, but I think you’ll find that what I’m going to ask you to do breaks a number of my Rules. There are times when we must do what we have to, following the spirit of the law, if not the letter.” He gives me a look I find oddly unreadable. “Remember that.”

  “Can I leave him a note? Just in case—” I break off at the sight of Dr. Wells’s frown. “I’ll tell him something came up for work. I do computer programming—freelance, so sometimes I have to travel to visit clients. This may be dangerous, right?”

  Dr. Wells hesitates. “It may be.”

  “Then I need him to know, if something happens, that I meant to come back. That I didn’t desert him.”

  Reluctantly, the old man nods. “No details, though.”

  “No details,” I agree, passing him the device and scrambling to find one of Dodge’s note tablets before Dr. Wells changes his mind. With a shaking hand, I try to find the words and eventually settle on some: “Hey, Dodge. Something big came up. Not sure how long I’ll be. If you need anything, go to the Richardsons’ down the hall; they’ve been such good neighbors, I’m sure they won’t mind helping you out.”

  I hesitate before signing my name to it. Recently, Dodge has taken to calling me “dad,” a name I’m not sure I deserve.

  “Ready?” Dr. Wells asks.

  I sign the note with a “love, Dad” and set it aside, my heart racing, before I can second-guess myself. If all goes well, I’ll be back here before he sees it anyway.

  Dr. Wells offers me the device again, and my thumb finds its way to the button that’ll send me whipping back through time to the 21st century. I don’t want to go. Yet I trust him; after all, he was the one who’d warned me about my old employers’ true intentions. And for the sake of the woman who saved my life…

  I press the button and the world bursts into light.

  CHAPTER TWO: April 15, 2016

  The spinning slows. Suddenly, everything stops.

  The office we’ve landed in is every bit Dr. Wells’s, from the antique desk taking up the center of the room—covered with every kind of paper and writing utensil imaginable—to the one-of-a-kind artwork on the walls. I land in front of one depicting some long-ago battle and know that all I’d have to do is ask and Dr. Wells would give me a full graduate-level lecture on the event, as well as each of the historical figures depicted.

  “You quite all right down there?” Dr. Wells’s face appears over the pile of papers, a hint of concern tugging at his oversized brows and a bead of sweat lingering on his mustache.

  “Just a little disoriented.” I pull myself up to a nearby chair and take a deep breath. My head throbs and my body feels off-balanced, as if somehow the world beneath me is spinning just slightly off-kilter from how it does a hundred years later. “Home, sweet 21st century.”

  I’d never been to the Place in Time Travel Agency before, but I knew it was in New York City—a fact made all too clear as the hum and buzz of the city leaks through the office’s single window. Cars rumble by, horns honk, and somewhere nearby, a large vehicle backs up with an incessant beep, beep, beep, beep. I’d forgotten how noisy this era was, with its combustion engines and constant construction, the incessant chatter of cell phones and machines. It makes me want to press my hands to my ears.

  “Tea?” Dr. Wells asks, offering me a steaming mug that he seems to have pulled out of nowhere. Either that, or he prepared it before jumping to the future, knowing I’d need something to calm my nerves upon my return. Either way, I appreciate the gesture.

  “I’m usually a coffee-drinker, you know,” I say as I sip from the mug. It’s some flavor I haven’t tasted or smelled in a long time; I can’t even remember what it’s called anymore. Were the herbs it’s made from lost in the last century? Or did they just go out of style? “Good stuff, though, this.”

  Dr. Wells nods absently as he flits around the office, gathering up a collection of items in front of me. A suit, pressed and black. A bowler hat. A billfold, stuffed with paper dollars. A pocket watch.

  “Looks like I’m either going back further,” I say, “or vintage clothing h
as circled back into style since I’ve been gone.”

  Dr. Wells looks up as if he’d forgotten I’m here. “Oh! Yes, that’s right. You need a debriefing. Where to begin?” He sighs and collapses back into his chair. “How much do you know about what we do here?”

  “Just what Elise told me. Your clients pay the big bucks for you to send them into the past on little vacations or getaways or research trips or whatever. All very hush-hush, referrals only.”

  “Yes, yes.” Dr. Wells nods. “I suppose that does sum it up nicely. Now, as you might imagine, being in this sort of business does have its own particular… hazards.”

  “Clients getting in over their heads, you mean?”

  “Well, that too. Though that’s what we have our Retrievers, like Elise, for.” He sighs. “It’s been difficult to find a replacement for her. She really was one of the most skilled time travelers I’ve worked with. There’s one girl I believe is showing promise, but— Never mind that. No, I was referring to the dangers here in the present. People who have discovered what we do and wish to exploit my technology for their own purposes.”

  “Right.” I shift in my chair. That’s precisely what the Trial Undertaking Bureau, or TUB, had done back when I still worked for them. I was lucky I’d gotten out when I did, before things got too messy. Yet something about Dr. Wells’s expression makes me wonder. “TUB isn’t causing trouble for you again, are they?”

  “I’m afraid so. Or at least, I assume it’s them. See, their interest in the future revolved solely around the Continuum.”

  I nod. That was the name of the space colony TUB sent me to assess. They’d wanted to evaluate the outcome of their investment—their legacy.

  “So they found out about the disaster? That couldn’t have been welcome news.”

  “Yes, and unfortunately, they’ve come to entirely the wrong conclusion. Shortly after Elise’s return, TUB sent another of my Retrievers into the future and the information he brought back led them to believe that, instead of Retrieving you, Elise sabotaged the colony to ensure its destruction.”