Future Perfect Tense

“Izzie?”

I wouldn’t have heard the voice had I not been expecting it. Nicky had always been soft-spoken to a fault, and I was pretty deeply enmeshed in the machinery of my latest project. But I had been expecting him, so I wasn’t blaring music like I normally would have.

“Back in the workshop!” I yelled out. I made a few last adjustments to the horograph mechanism, and then crawled out from under the tangle of parts and cables. Back on my feet, I rubbed one arm across my face. Ugh. I really hadn’t planned on being all sweaty and distracted when Nicky showed up, but when inspiration strikes, you have to take advantage of it, you know?

I looked around my workshop, piled high with various projects. Some of them were complete, and a couple even worked, but mostly the room was full of abandoned attempts at off-the-wall inventions. I had a bad habit of getting caught up in a new idea halfway through a project, and leaving whatever I was working on sitting around until I scavenged it for parts for the next one. Nicky used to help me stay more focused, but… Nicky didn’t exactly visit like he used to.

“Ah,” a soft voice said behind me, and I turned to see Nicky himself, standing at the threshold of my mess. His eyes flicked from me to the workshop and back.

I barely registered it. I was too busy staring at him. He… looked different. It took me a moment to realize exactly how. It was the clothes - rather than the comfortable, baggy stuff he used to wear, he was wearing a polo shirt and khakis. He even had a belt on, and shiny black shoes? His hair was shorter, too, which felt like a real shame. I always thought the way his hair got curlier when it was kind of shaggy was cute. Girls liked that look, I was pretty sure… the kind of casual bedhead that somehow also always ended up looking good rather than slobby. Now it was… fine. A lot sharper, but way less cute...

Okay, get it together, girl. He shows up for ten seconds and you’re already swooning? I pushed the feelings aside and forced myself to smile.

“You look… um. Good!” I said. “Really changing up the look, huh?”

“Mmm,” he murmured. “You look good too. Well, except…” He took a step towards me, his fingers twitching. “Um. May I?”

I swallowed. “Uh, sure?” 

And then he had picked up a rag from my nearby workbench, and his other hand was brushing my hair back gently, and he was right there in front of me. I didn’t know where to look. So, like an idiot, I closed my eyes. Thank goodness I at least had the composure to not jump as I felt the rag on my cheek, rubbing something off. 

When I finally let go of the breath I had been holding, he had already stepped away again, and I could see the streak of grease on the rag as he set it aside.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling even sweatier than before.

He flashed me a tight smile. “It seems like you’ve been busy.”

“Sure have!” It took effort, but I shook off the awkwardness, trying to direct the conversation to ground that I felt more comfortable on. “I admit that I’ve been a bit less… focused, lately. But I’m really hopeful about my next creation.”

“And what does it do?” he asked, tone light. “Butter both sides of toast? Scientifically calculate how many cats are in the surrounding square mile?”

I rolled my eyes. “I can make useful things too.” I gestured at the machine crammed into one corner of the workshop, where a somewhat battered crash test dummy was strapped into a chair. “This one has some very clear practical applications. It, uh, is based off of some of the temporal probability work that’s involved with the Decision Vision.”

I watched him carefully when I spoke those words, but his face remained neutral. Suspiciously neutral. Mm.

“I see,” he said.

“The core idea is that it scans a person’s body, and then compares it with readings from future timestreams. Hopefully the results would be able to forewarn you about certain diseases or conditions, like if you’re likely to have cancer or heart problems. Then you can be proactive in treating it.”

He smiled, just a little bit. “That seems like it’d help a lot of people.”

“See,” I muttered slightly, “I do listen to what you say. Sometimes.”

“Hm?”

“I said, ‘Do you want to see it in action?’” I chirped brightly.

He nodded, albeit tentatively, and I scurried over to plug in the main power line. With a whir, the machine came to life. Lights began to flicker on up and down the chassis, most of them green. I gave them a quick once-over, deciding the yellows and reds were within acceptable levels of tolerance. They were… close enough. More importantly, I wanted to show off.

“Okay, test #26, start!” I said, flipping the main switch and stepping back. Behind me, Nicky had shifted to make sure there was a table to duck behind should things go… awry. He had plenty of previous experience in that, having been here for many tests of prior inventions. There had been a point where I never tested anything without him around. But… that was no longer the case.

The whirring and humming sounds grew louder and louder, and then were suddenly joined by a metallic screeching. I reached over to bang my fist against a metal casing, and that quieted down. 

I shot Nicky a grin, as the crash test dummy strapped in began to glow faintly, blue particles drifting off of its form. 

Yes. This was perfect.

I watched the readout eagerly, grinning as a humanoid shape took form on a small monitor. It was working! Finally! Maybe Nicky was the good luck I needed after all. I craned my neck, looking around to see if he was as impressed as I hoped. “Hey, Nicky—”

I suddenly felt another presence, and my breath caught. Nicky had stepped up right behind me, one hand on my shoulder and the other reaching across to point at the monitor. I couldn’t help but think how close he was.

“Why is the right arm flashing red?” he asked, like, practically whispering into my ear.

My stomach did backflips for one uncomfortable moment. And then I realized what he was actually saying, and my head snapped over to look back at the monitor.

That’s when there was one last colossal bang sound, and all of the power went out.

It only lasted a moment, and then my generators kicked in and the lights came back. But the machine’s electronics were all dark.

“Fuck,” I swore. “We were so close!”

“Izzie?” Nicky sounded worried, but I was too distracted to pay much attention. I popped the top off of the control panel and started checking to see if the circuits were fried by a power surge.

“Izzie!”

I looked up. He was pointing at the crash test dummy, whose arm was very definitively on fire.

“OH.”