We rested for awhile. Al said he had to do some fiddling around with stuff and went into the projector room. He was kind enough to play for us some film from later on in the timeline. I think it was the thirteenth movie of the fourth reboot of Star Trek.

He cut it off right in the middle of a battle scene. “Time to go,” he intoned, slapping a wristband on each one of us.

“Where exactly are we going,” said Zoe. The way she said was more a statement than a question.

“Time travel,” answered Al, “trivial. Intentionally hopping between specific parallel universes? Not so much.”

“Zoe, was that a que—” I blurted. A sensation akin to getting my legs pulled out through my throat silenced me. It was only later that I realized the irony.

A lightning-bolt of white cut across my eyes, and then my vision slowly returned. I felt the tingle of the static electricity die down, but I stood there in shock nonetheless.

It was then that I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Before I could react, Zoe kissed me.