Free Button in the Fabric of Time by William Wayne Dicksion Page A

Jan-3 had used carpets, ornamental
throw-rugs, and drapes to give the place a warm, feminine feeling.
Glowing lights appeared as celestial bodies in the glass ceiling,
making the room feel as though we were outside. No fans were
visible, but there was a slight breeze. Music with a soft rhythmic
beat, probably designed for mood enhancement, filled the apartment.
Her place had several rooms, and it was surprisingly spacious.
    “Do you have a shower? I’d like to get
cleaned up.”
    She led me to a private enclosure, then
pointing to some controls, said, “First, dial the temperature, and
then turn the water on.” Pointing to knobs she continued, “This one
regulates the intensity of the spray, and this one dispenses
cleansing solution. The water is distilled, so it doesn’t take
much. After you’ve finished your bath, step into this drying
chamber. You’ll find fresh clothing folded on a table outside the
door.” She stepped out of her garments, pointed to the enclosure,
indicating I should enter, and said, “I’ll bathe with you.”
    Her flawless skin had the texture of rich
cream, and her rounded hips and breasts were enormously arousing. I
took her in my arms and she responded. We stepped into the hot,
flowing water. The bath was more than refreshing; it was an
adventure.
    After our bath, I put on the robe that had
been laid out for me. It was like a kimono, easy to put on and very
comfortable. Jan-3 slipped on a lavender robe, poured two glasses
of wine, and we went to a patio extension of her apartment that
overlooked the ocean some thirty floors below. In the distance, we
saw groupings of lights that Jan-3 explained were satellite
cities.
    We sat on a softly padded lounge. She
snuggled into my arms; the silky texture of her skin and the
fragrance of her hair were intoxicating. After we sipped wine and
talked for a while, she took my hand and led me to her bed.
Effortlessly, she slipped from her robe and lay on the elevated
bed. The bedding was sensuously stimulating. It was a night I’ll
never forget. . . .
     
    * * *
     
    I have no idea how long I slept, but when I
awoke, sunlight was glistening through the glass walls. I looked
around for Jan-3, but she wasn’t there. I showered, shaved, and
dressed in the clothes I found on a stand beside the bed. These
clothes were more formal than the ones I wore yesterday. The
material felt like a blend of silk and wool. The fit was perfect
and the tailoring excellent. These clothes were less decorative
than the ones I wore yesterday, but I liked what I saw when I
looked at my image in the mirror. They fit perfectly.
    The shoes needed no socks since they were
softly padded and fit my feet, ankles, and calves snugly. The tops
provided support; the soles were firm but not rigid, giving a
spring to my stride.
    Jan-3 came dancing into the room in a pink
dress that was form fitted to her hips, then pleated slightly below
her knees. The pleated skirt swirled around her when she turned,
exposing her shapely thighs. The bodice was low and accented her
breasts, covering but not concealing her upturned nipples. Her
shoes looked comfortable enough for walking, but the heels were
elevated, shaping her slender ankles and calves even more. She
smiled, and her eyes shined when she whispered in a low, sultry
voice, “Last night was wonderful.”
    “It was the most satisfying experience of my
life. I’ve never before felt so alive,” I said as I gathered her in
my arms. “I’m famished. When do we eat?”
    “Breakfast is ready,” she replied. “I ordered
bacon crisp, eggs over medium, buttered toast, and strawberry jam.
If my memory serves me right, that’s a usual morning meal for the
twenty-first century. The eggs are real, but the bacon isn’t. We
can eat now if you want. The sun is too bright on the patio, so
let’s eat in the dining alcove. We must eat quickly, though; Roc-2
says he needs your help with the button.”
    We ate while rays of the early morning sun
radiated