The Time Traveler's Almanac

Roger replaces the receiver in its cradle. He meanders back to his desk, and switches on a light. He cannot decide whether to go home or not. There is nothing for him at home this evening. His girlfriend, a woman called Stella, is having a girl’s night out with four friends. These friends’ names are Susan, Susan, Miranda and Belle. He doesn’t fancy going back to an empty flat. But the prospect of staying at the lab and working on into the evening is not appealing either. His brain feels muffled, fuzzy. He can’t concentrate on his job-in-hand.

He mooches back into kitchen and turns the kettle on. He inspects one of the mugs standing beside the telephone, and, fussily, runs a finger inside the rim. Behind him, the kettle’s spout turns into a miniature chimney. Steam pillows out.

Roger changes his mind. He drinks, he tells himself, too much coffee anyway. Six or seven mugs, most days, and strong stuff too.

He walks back to his bench and turns the anglepoise off.

The phone goes again.

As he shuffles back to the kitchen to answer it, he finds himself thinking how annoying the sound of a phone ringing is. How insistent. A mechanical baby’s cry that it is almost impossible to ignore. He resents it.

‘tension three-five-one-un?’

This time the voice is clearer, although the static is still thorny and distracting. ‘Please don’t hang up! It’s vital you listen to … information we have to give you.’ The sentence is broken in half by a crack, like a plank breaking.

‘I’m sorry,’ says Roger, annoyed rather than intrigued. ‘Who were you trying to reach?’

‘The institute…’ A whoosh and a clatter drown the rest of the sentence.

‘I’ll tell you what you’ve done,’ says Roger, prissily. ‘You’ve dialled the one twice by mistake. You want extension three five one seven, but your finger has accidentally pushed the one twice and it’s put you through here. There’s nobody here, except me and I’m about to go home. Three five one seven will get you the night secretary.’

‘No! No!’ The panic in the person’s voice is evident enough to break through the hisses and spatters of interference. ‘Please don’t hang up. We’re calling as far back as we can, and the boundary withdraws all the time, one second per second. In a very little time it will be too late. Do you understand?’

‘No,’ says Roger, crossly, ‘I don’t.’

‘I can’t stress too greatly, your future is at stake. All our futures. The people much further along the line from us have only just encountered the disaster, and they have called us, and we have called you. This may sound strange to you. The chance to change things … it must happen there, in your time. It’s got to be you.’

‘I have no idea what you are on about,’ says Roger. ‘Is this a prank? Is this Seb?’ This, he thinks, is exactly the sort of practical joke that Seb would try.

‘Please, no, just listen. You don’t have to believe me, it doesn’t matter if you believe me, the thing you have to do is so simple, so simple it won’t take you a moment. All you have to do…’

But Roger has put the phone down again. He stands looking at the kettle for a moment, his mind floating free. He thinks of Seb, a man he has never really liked. By a chain of association too oblique to be represented here with any ease, he thinks of a holiday in France, and then of another friend, and then of Stella, and finally of Susan, one of Stella’s friends. He and Susan had kissed the previous week, but both had pulled away, startled, before things had proceeded any further. It had been at a party at another friend’s house, at the bottom of their garden away from everybody, in the darkness. Two cigarette smokers underneath the stars, the noise and chatter and muffled music of the party sounding very far away. Kissing, and then pulling away. The path not taken. But then again, who knows? It wouldn’t be a good idea to tell Stella. He feels sure Susan thinks this too. Best not mention it at all, and certainly not tell Stella.

He puts on his coat, and is about to lock up the lab when the phone rings again.

RED LETTER DAY

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

Kristine Kathryn Rusch is an American writer of award-winning mystery, romance, science fiction, and fantasy. She has written many novels under various names. Her novels have made the bestseller lists worldwide and have been published in fourteen countries and thirteen different languages. Her awards range from the Ellery Queen Readers Choice Award to the John W. Campbell Award. She is the only person in the history of the science fiction field to have won a Hugo Award both for editing and for fiction. “Red Letter Day” was originally published in Analog Science Fiction and Fact in 2010.