There was no door to this wilderness space, and, feeling it best to get things taken care of before company arrived, Ellis used the artsy-looking toilet shaped like a tree stump. There was no water in its base, and he was shocked to discover that his urine vanished as it fell. He thought about his toothbrush and realized he’d forgotten one. With a sigh, he undressed and stepped into the lagoon.
“ The water can come out at any speed, texture, or angle you like,” Alva said, her voice slightly different in the lagoon, where the sounds of birds and the rush of water competed for his attention.
Ellis didn’t reply and was pleased she hadn’t felt the need to chat while he was using the toilet. He also had to wonder at the income level of an arbitrator. Maybe the profession was like a lawyer.
He waded into the pool and moved under the falling river. The water—hot and soothing—relaxed him. A hot shower always seemed so decadent, and there was something vaguely sexual about a bath. An atomized mist jetted out from the walls, turning the jungle steamy.
“Is there soap?” he asked.
Like a car wash, the water pouring out turned sudsy, but this flow smelled vaguely like lilacs. Ellis wondered what might happen if he asked for wax. That brought a smile, and he pushed his face into the stream. Ellis lingered in the water longer than he had planned. From the instant he’d discovered Warren’s letters until this moment, Ellis had been overwhelmed. Too much had happened too quickly. Even lying in the bed, trying to mentally process everything, had been taxing. He hadn’t allowed himself time to think, but bathing made him reflective.
Everything he knew was gone. He no longer had a house with its huge monthly mortgage. No cars needed inspections, oil changes, or new tires. He was free of everything—free of Warren and Peggy, his cheating wife and his bitter friend who had betrayed him. That life was over—buried by time, a lot of time.
In its place was something amazing. He’d achieved a version of his life’s dream and survived the effort. He’d finally done something—something important. By the sound of things, Ellis was somehow the first person to travel through time. Everything had worked out perfectly, and yet while standing in the hot stream from the sudsy waterfall, Ellis began to cry.
He couldn’t control himself, couldn’t understand why he was sobbing. He should be happy, and it didn’t make sense that after risking everything and winning, he should feel so miserable.
Although his marriage never reflected the kind of relationships idealized in movies, Peggy had been part of his life for thirty-five years, and he’d discarded her with less thought than he gave to a dubiously dated container of cottage cheese. He’d known Warren even longer. His old friend had always looked after and defended him, and he, too, went in the trash. Maybe they had an explanation…maybe if he’d just…but it was too late.
If it hadn’t already been erased by time, Ellis would have torn down his garage. It was the symbolic sum of all his mistakes, from his son’s death, to the erosion of his marriage, and finally the realization that running away was the height of selfishness. He hadn’t even left a note, and Peggy would spend the rest of her life with too many questions and no answers.
He pushed his face into the spill and let it blend with his tears. He didn’t know how long he stood there. He didn’t care. He had no pressing appointments.
“How do I turn it off?” he finally asked.
An instant later the waterfall stopped, the pool drained, the mist faded, and hot, dry air began to blow. He was dry in just a minute or two, and put his clothes back on.
Passing back the way he had come, Ellis dropped his pack next to the bed before setting off to explore. The wonders of the bedroom and bath were nothing compared with the rest of Pax’s home.
“ This is the social room,” Alva said with a note of pride as he entered a large chamber with a vaulted ceiling.
A cross between a Gothic palace and a Rainforest Cafe the large chamber combined the two motifs until the whole appeared as a beautiful ruin invaded by plants and giant trees. The walls were carved stone with intricate arches and ornamentation that framed more murals mimicking the Renaissance masters.
Ellis spotted a painter’s easel, surrounded by color-stained rags and rustic clay pots filled with bouquets of filthy brushes. Beside them were splattered potter’s wheels and carving tools. But what caught Ellis’s attention the most was the far wall—or more precisely the lack of one. That whole side of the room was missing. No glass, just one vast opening to the outside, where a balcony extended as an oval pod.
The view was staggering. Pax’s home was built into the side of a massive curved cliff that was shared by hundreds of other homes, each with its own balcony. The sheer walls of the canyon were dressed in flowers and creeping ivy. Massive trees grew up in the center and spread vast branches, creating a canopy that provided shade to the Central Park-sized common below. So mammoth was the space that people on their balconies across from Ellis were ant-sized, and everything across the way slightly bluer. Shafts of light filtered through the arena, and birds of all sizes and colors swooped and sang. Their songs echoed as if they were in a massive atrium.
Ellis descended the steps onto the balcony and was peering across at what he realized had to be a massive waterfall in the far distance when he heard Alva say, “ Welcome home. It was so nice of you to take that extra second necessary to let me know you were on your way, Pax. Oh wait—you didn’t, did you?”
“Don’t start, Alva.”
“ What? A little courtesy is too much to ask?”
“Is Ellis Rogers in the bedroom?”
“ Out on the balcony. Everyone loves the balcony.”
“Were you nice?”
“ I’m always nice, dear. Vin, do you think you could clean up your paints a little better next time? The breeze threw your rags on the floor and knocked over one of the pots.”
“You control the breeze, Alva.”
“ But not your mess.”
Ellis turned to see Pax enter the social room. Dressed the same as before, Pax smiled as their eyes met. “How are you feeling?”
“Have a headache.”
“Cha said you would.”
“Other than that, I’m a lot better. Even a little hungry.”
“What do you like to eat?”
Ellis shrugged. “It’s been two thousand years. I doubt you have burgers and fries anymore.”
“Alva?”
“ Derived from Hamburg, Germany, hamburger is low-grade ground meat from the dead bodies of domesticated animals known as cows or cattle. A poor person’s meal often treated in ammonia to eliminate common life-threatening contaminants. It was discontinued in 2162 due to health hazards.”
“Seriously?” Pax made a face at Ellis. “So we don’t have a pattern, I’m guessing?”
“ Would you want one? We don’t have a pattern for arsenic either.”
Ellis chuckled. “I won’t even ask about hot dogs.”
Pax looked concerned. “You actually ate dogs?”
“ No, dear,” Alva said. “ But an explanation would hardly put you at ease. How about a nice minlatta with a tarragon oil sauce? It’s a new pattern by Yal.”
“It’s best to just agree,” Pax said to him. “Alva will make it anyway.”
“Sure.”
“ Vin, do you want a minlatta?” Alva’s voice came from another room as Pax joined Ellis on the balcony. The voice of Vin was low, muffled, indiscernible.
“It’s beautiful here,” Ellis said. “I take it we aren’t in Michigan anymore.”
“Michigan?”
“That’s where we met.” He looked out at the sunlight. “Was it yesterday? Did I sleep that long?”
“You were out awhile.”
“And we went through one of those portal things, right?”