When Audrey is 34, she invents practical human time travel. Every week of her life up to that point, time travellers show up — some trying to kill her, some to save her, some just to be skeevy — so Audrey has to amass tools to defend herself. She learns Judo, disguise, and a bunch of temporal physics. Some of the travellers help her with theory, but others dick her around; eventually, though, she’s best in the field, and then, well, I’ve already told you.

It dies down, but not completely. Mario keeps trying but never once gets her into bed.

Mario can calculate the weekday of any date in his head and employ nineteen theoretical tenses, but in some situations he feels like a four-year-old trying to remember which hand is the minutes.

One such situation is Minneapolis.

“Forgive me for this intrusion, your highness,” he manages, concentrating, trying to arrange his words in some sort of sequential order. Untime buffets him, and the sensors on his chronosuit creak into the red. “I boon to a request come–”

A sudden cessation; The Artist Formerly Known inclines his head. “Greetings,” he says, and will say, and has always been saying.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asks, trying to get a better look.

“In simulations,” mutters Girard. Sweat accretes under his ears and armpits.

“Which wire do you think you should cut?”

“Ask me in thirty seconds,” says Girard, cutters poised.

Mario twists his watch and jumps forward. “Which wire do you think you should cut?” he asks again.

Girard lolls at him, skinless, his jaw across the room somewhere.

“Well?” says Girard when he returns.

“Not that one,” Mario says.

Eventually he opens his eyes. His hand remains empty.

“Goddamn collapse of print media!” he swears.

One of the guys sitting on a nearby cafe patio raises his eyebrow. “What’s the matter?” he asks. “Lose your job?”

“Not exactly,” mutters Mario. “Um. I don’t suppose you have the date?”

“1-20-2018,” says Mako.

“Wow!” says Mario. “Thanks!”

Mako grins. “Now how about you give me your digits?”

“Sure!” says Mario. “But they won’t work until you invent ansibles.”

Questions will be projected onto your HUD; answer below.