Free Time's Echo: A CHRONOS Files Novella by Rysa Walker

or gams . Or sexy mama , for that matter. Simon prides
himself on being a walking anachronism.
    "Why are you here, Simon? And since when do you smoke
cigarettes?" He'll puff the occasional cigar when he wants to act like a
big shot, but smoking is one of the few vices Simon actually avoids.
    He drops the pack of cigarettes to the sidewalk and crushes
it under his heel. "I don't. I just buy these for the old-timey porn."
He holds up the card so that I can see a woman, who could easily make two of
the skinny actresses from Kate's time, clad in tights and a leotard.
    He smacks his lips. "Now that's a woman you could
really sink your teeth into."
    I don't think Simon actually bites the women who are
desperate enough to have sex with him, but I couldn't guarantee it. Not
something I want to think about, either way.
    "And I could ask what you're doing here, Kierney , since Prudence said you were too injured to be out
and about." He nods at bandage on my head. "Looks like someone
whacked you good."
    "Looks like," I reply amiably, while imagining how
his head would snap back if I punched him in the jaw. "No food at my place
and I was hungry. Jessup usually has a few sandwiches that his missus makes up
for sale, but she's still at the market. So I'm stuck with these."
    I wedge one of the boxes of Newtons under my arm and open the other one, then start walking down the street toward
my place while I eat the cookies. Simon follows.
    "You walked over half a mile to get cookies? Yeah, well gimme ." He tries to pull the other box out from
under my arm. "You don't need two boxes."
    "You sure as hell don't need them. Back off. I said I
was hungry."
    He grabs two cookies from the package that's already open
and shoves them into his mouth. "These things are gross."
    Of course, being Simon, he's talking with his mouth full,
and I hear Kate's voice in the back of my mind saying Pot. Kettle. Black . That brings a tiny smile, which is quickly wiped away by the memory of last
night and the fact that the asshole who just swiped my cookies probably had
something to do with it.
    "You don't like my cookies, don't eat them."
    "So, you're walking all the way back to your
apartment?"
    I nod. "Someone stole most of my money last night along
with my CHRONOS key. I'm not gonna catch a cab for less than a mile."
    "Oh, right. That's one reason Pru sent me." He
pulls a medallion out of his pocket. "I'm supposed to give you this and
tell you to get to Farm nineteen hundr —"
    "Yeah, yeah." I take the
medallion and pull the chain over my head. The grease smudge is still on the
key. "Pru already told me the coordinates."
    He grabs another handful of cookies. "Well, anyway,
she's expecting you at the Farm, ASAP. Just thought I'd let you know. She says
your memory got a bit wiped?"
    "Yeah. A
bit. I thought she was sending June to patch up my head."
    "She didn't mention it," he says.
    "Fine. Whatever. Tell her it will be at least tomorrow, Si."
    "She's gonna be pissed."
    "There's no way I can use the key to travel before
then. My head is killing me. And what difference does it make to her when I go?
I'll be there at the same bloody time whether I leave Boston 1905 today,
tomorrow or next year."
    "True, but this is Prudence. Just like her daddy, if
she says jump, you're supposed to jump right that second. You haven't forgotten that much I hope."
    I crumple up the empty cookie box and stuff it in my pocket,
then open the second carton. "No, I haven't forgotten that. I just don't
understand why she didn't leave me the key last night. She's acting
weird."
    "Who knows? She's crazy as a damn bedbug, especially if
you end up talking to her after age thirty. Sister Prudence had half a
brain, but I make it a habit never to question Mother Prudence."
    "I hope you don't let her hear you call her that,"
I say.
    "God, no."
    "She said you apologized, by the way, and that I
accepted. I don't remember any of that, so maybe you could run it by me
again."
    "Apologized? Doesn't sound