Evolution

There were five eastbound lanes on the slidewalk, each going at a progressively higher speed. Anne skipped hard and landed on the middle lane, legs braced for the jolt of acceleration when she hit. She bounced across the fourth in one stride, catching the fifth.

It wasn’t going fast enough to suit her. Without thinking, she began to sprint, in open defiance of the city ordinance against doing so. Across town she sped, scattering other pedestrians in her haste.

One man had the misfortune to be changing onto the fifth lane ahead of her. She knocked him sprawling with a sweep of her arm. He came to rest across the third and fourth lanes, tripping six other people as he went down. Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt. Most others were able to get out of her way. Anne never once looked back.

She hurled herself into the side corridor where Alan’s office was located, only to crash headlong into the broad chest of Samuel Watts.

He caught her by the upper arms to steady her. “Whoa, Anne!”

“Arrest me later, goddamit! I’ve got to see Alan!”

“There’s nothing you can do, Anne. The doctor is with him now.”

“Why’d you call if you didn’t want me here? Think I’d sit at home and wait?”

“Anne…” he began.

“Damn you, get out of my way!” With hysterical strength, she shoved him aside and dashed through the open portal into her husband’s office.

What she saw there brought her to a sudden stop. “Oh, God…” she whispered.

Watts took her gently by the shoulders and tried to draw her back out into the corridor. Dazed, she pulled loose and walked ahead, slowly, uncertainly, towards where her husband lay sprawled on the floor behind his desk. Irregular stains of blood covered the wall behind him.

She. knelt, gently reaching out to push the hair off of Alan’s forehead. Her hand seemed to belong to someone else. At least for the moment, that other person was obeying her will.

The doctor turned to her. She met his eyes. “He’s alive… barely. An ambulance is on the way.”

She looked up at Watts, standing across from her. “Who did this?”

Watts took a deep breath. “Alan managed to hit the panic button as he went down. The recorder caught two of the shots.”

“Who, dammit?” she snarled.

“Lewis Cantner.”

“Find the son of a bitch,” she hissed. “Bring him to me. I’m going to rip his lungs out.”

“We’ve sealed the Doors and the surface locks. He’s somewhere in Crisium. We’ll get him.”

A wet coughing sound brought her eyes back down. “Alan? I’m here.”

His eyes opened—fluttered, focused. Breathing raggedly, he rasped, “Honey… I… I had a bad day at the office.” A thin line of red ran from the corner of his mouth.

Tears sprang to her eyes. “I told you that bastard was trying to make me miscarry.”

“Do what needs doing, babe,” he whispered. “Take care of the kid.”

“Save your strength. I’m here now.”

The ambulance arrived. Anne backed away to give the medical technicians room to work. She spoke briefly with Watts and the doctor in the corner of the room, eyes carefully averted from the gore. Within minutes, they had Alan strapped securely to the back of the flat-bed electric cart. She then followed them out into the corridor.

Edgar Rice ran up just as they were pulling away. “Anne?”

She turned from watching the ambulance. Face drawn and pale, she drew herself to her full height. “Edgar, turn on your microphone,” she ordered. “I have an official press release for you from the Commissioner’s office.”

“Uh, right.” He fumbled at his collar to unfold the tiny gooseneck, swiveling it towards her. “Ready.”

“At 2:55 this afternoon, Lewis Cantner, former president of the Crisium Business Group, entered the office of Commissioner Alan Lister. He shot Commissioner Lister three times in the chest at close range with a high-velocity, small caliber weapon. He is presently at large in the city of Crisium, presumed to be armed and dangerous.”

She swallowed hard as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “Commissioner Lister is not expected to live.”

Twenty-four hours. That’s all she asked. Twenty-four hours. Turn back the clock. Give her time to say all the things that she had thought she’d had a lifetime to say. Time to apologize for burning the steak she’d cooked for his birthday two weeks after they’d met. Time to hold him just once more. Time to laugh about the look on her face when he’d asked her to marry him. Time to tell him how much she loved him. Time for another cup of coffee together. Time to tell one more joke. Time to choose a name for the child. Time to tell him how much she’d miss him.

Time for her to tell him not to go to the office that day.

When it comes to love, there’s never enough time.

The downside to having a small, efficient government is that there’s no redundancy. There’s no one to take up the slack.

With clench-jawed determination, Anne took the helm of the Crisium government. She didn’t want the job. She didn’t have the intuitive feel that Alan had brought to the position. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into a cave and lick her wounds.