Free Yesterday's Cat: Episode 1: Before the Storm by Naomi Kramer

Episode 1: Before the Storm
    Wayne browsed the science fiction shelves of the library,
sighing.
    “Read it, read it, hate that author, Star Wars crap, read
that whole bloody shelf. Why, Lord? Why is the best stuff always in short
supply?” he muttered.
    He sighed, pulled out a Heinlein hardback he'd read at
least a dozen times before, and made his way to a small, secluded reading area
near one of the few windows. It was on the far side of the non-fiction from the
fiction and children's area, so was usually sparsely populated and free of
drooling, snotty brats.
    Today, though, a naked woman sat on one of the low vinyl
single-person lounges, legs crossed, seeming deeply engrossed in a Stephen
Hawking tome. Luxurious red hair cascaded over her shoulders and completely
failed to hide anything of interest.
    Wayne dropped his book on his foot and yelped.
    “Shhhh!” said the woman without looking up, “this is a
library, not a pleasure dome.”
    She turned a page. The tortoiseshell cat sitting on the
floor next to her lounge shot him a dirty look and contorted to lick its side.
    Wayne bent to pick up his book, fumbled it, but caught it
just in time to avoid another assault on his foot – and the naked woman's ears.
    “Oh, a second,” said the woman, looking up, “What year is
this?”
    Wayne's brain sent his mouth into an open-close idle cycle
while it attempted to wrest a train of thought away from his hormones.
    “I love you,” he blurted.
    Her eyes narrowed.
    “Uhhh… 2011,” he said slowly.
    “Damn, I'm early,” she said, tapping what looked like a
wristwatch and looking annoyed.
    She shrugged, stood up, walked over to him and slid her
arms around his neck. She slowly kissed his still-hanging-open mouth, pressed
against him like jelly against its mould.
    “Keep coming here,” she said, “I'll be back to fuck you in
a few years.”
    Then she disappeared.
    ****
    The naked redhead stepped out of the liftwell and paused,
looking left and right with a slightly furrowed brow.
    “May I help you, Citizen?” a passing brunette enquired.
    “The time department – has it moved?” she asked.
    The brunette chuckled.
    “They're always doing that. Something about the river of
time overflowing its banks and cutting a new bed. Then they start spouting
equations and I'm lost.”
    “Er – do you know where they went?”
    “Three floors up, on your right as you leave the lift.
Somewhere up there. I'm not sure where.”
    “Thank you!” the redhead said, and walked back into the
waiting liftwell, wafting silently upwards out of sight.
    “Was that Angie Chau?” a man asked, walking out of an
office.
    The brunette shrugged.
    “Wow,” he whispered, and reversed into his office.
    ****
    “Geek, we have a big problem!” the redhead yelled as she
stomped into the Time Department.
    “Angie!” someone called from a back room. “Whatever it is,
sweetie, I'll be right with you!”
    She rolled her eyes and sat in an uncomfortable metal
chair, tapping her foot and looking at her watch, then away, with a scowl.
    A young-looking man hurried from a back room, threading his
way through lab benches.
    “Angie! What's up?”
    “This farkling watch! I got there seven years too early!
Seven years! He was all fat and immature!” she said, shoving the watch in his
face.
    “Oh. That's not good, that's not good at all!”
    “Damn straight!”
    He unbuckled the watch from her wrist and took it away to a
lab bench, clucking in concern. An hour later, to the tune of Angie's teeth
grinding, Geek came back with a meek look and the watch.
    “Our fault, sorry - the calibration was off. Enough to make
a big difference, travelling back that distance. I'm so sorry, Angie, I don't
know how it slipped through our quality checks.”
    “It's not good enough, Geek. That could've landed me in the
middle of some war.”
    Geek nodded, looking sober.
    “Yes. I'll find out what happened - and I'll check every