Page 9 of No Place in Time

“But you did,” Cecily said. “And you told me this thing was dangerous.”

She stepped closer to the machine, not touching it, but close enough to feel the low vibration beneath her feet.

Anton moved to block her. “Don’t.”

“Then stop pretending it means nothing,” she said. “Tell me what this is.”

Anton looked not at her, but at the device. “It moves things. Not through space, but…” He hesitated, searching for words she could grasp. “It shifts them. To another… when.”

The word hung in the air. “When?” Cecily repeated. The idea sounded nonsensical. “That’s a fantasy, Grandfather.”

Anton stood still. Finn’s glance slid to the machine, and Cecily saw his jaw tighten.

Finally, Anton said, “It can send someone to another time.”

The words hung in the air, nonsensical. “Send someone to another time? That’s a story for children.”

“Is it?” He reached into a small wooden box on his bench and took out a coin. It caught the candlelight as he turned it between his fingers. “I brought this with me from another time.”

He placed it in her palm. Cecily looked down. On one face of the coin was a portrait of a man she had never seen, his hair short, his collar strange. Around the rim, words she could read but did not understand. And a date.

She read it twice.

“This is impossible,” she said. “You made this yourself, to fool me.”

“No, Cecily. This coin will not be minted for hundreds of years. Nor will the man whose face is on it have been born. The country that made it does not yet exist.”

Cecily stared at the object, then at his face.

“You… you’ve used the machine?”

“Yes.”

“And it works?”

“It works,” Anton said, “but not well. Not safely. It still needs repairs.”

Finn spoke. “People could get hurt using this.”

Cecily turned on Finn. “I didn’t ask you. You don’t get to decide what I can risk.”

“I’m not,” Finn said. “I’m telling you what can happen.”

“What happens if I stay here?” she said. “That old man claims me.”

Anton’s voice sharpened. “The last time I used it, the machine burned through two gears, and I lost three days of my life. I woke with no memory of them. That is the best outcome. This machine is not the answer. There are worse things than waiting, Cecily.”

“And worse things than escaping,” she replied.

No one spoke.

With a sigh, Cecily turned toward the door and left. Outside, the yard was empty. Finn followed her.

“Don’t even think about using it,” he said behind her.

She whirled around. “Then why are you helping him build it?”

He took a moment to answer. “Your grandfather knows what he’s doing. And when he says it’s dangerous, he means it. I’m helping him make certain it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. Or tear a hole in the world by accident.”