What a beautiful and heart-warming update. I love the family interplay. It's so real.
Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it!
Awesome update. Happy birthday, Patrick. He looks so cute as a toddler. Wish to cuddle him 
. Aah, the fall season. Great to see all the family enjoying the season festival. Looking forward for next update.
Thank you! I find the toddlers adorable, and always end up taking tons of screenshots of them when families I play have them.
Chapter 27
For safety reasons, Blair got put on desk duty at work as soon as she told them she was pregnant. She understood why, but it was so boring compared to patrols and investigations. She was glad when it was time to go out on maternity leave. If she couldn’t do what she loved, she’d rather be at home planning for the baby, reading her romance novels, or goofing around with Cycl0n3.
Owning a house was more expensive than living in the lofts, and her paid leave was just base pay without the overtime her job required. Cycl0n3’s P.I. work gave him flexible hours, but he took all the jobs he could manage so they had the money they needed. He hadn’t gotten any more silly cases like Bella Bachelor’s missing mouthwash, but they didn’t all resolve as easily, either. One had him spying on the Goths for Gobias Koffi. Blair found that awkward, knowing that one was a close friend to her parents and the other was their co-worker. Of course, she couldn’t say anything to anyone about it, since Cycl0n3’s business depended upon confidentiality. Technically, he shouldn’t have even told her, but Cycl0n3 knew he could trust Blair. She was the most honest soul he’d ever met.
They were excited about the impending arrival of their baby. Blair liked to call him over when the baby was active so he could feel and listen to her tummy. At the moment, it was kicking up a storm. Earlier, Blair had a craving for fried chicken, and Cycl0n3 got a double order of it from the diner. They shared it, but afterward, Cycl0n3 endured the worst heartburn of his life. “Don’t do that to me again, kid! You might have an iron stomach, but your dad doesn’t. Stick to craving stupid amounts of berry pie. That I can handle!”
“Don’t listen to him,” Blair retorted. “That was a craving
I still regret.”
A little while later, it wasn’t a craving Blair felt, but strong contractions. “Uh, Cycl0n3? I think it’s time.”
“Time for… oh!” He realized that Blair was telling him she was in labor. “Time to go to the hospital?”
“Yeah.” She winced in pain. “Definitely time.”
Cycl0n3 went into panic mode. “Okay. Get to the car.” He started for the door and realized he didn’t have his keys. “Keys. Keys. Where are my keys?”
“Don’t tell me you lost your keys now!”
“I got ‘em, I got ‘em.” He looked around wildly. “They’re right… no, plumbob, they’re not.” He searched the desk and rooted around in the drawer to no avail. “Did I put them in the kitchen?”
“Cycl0n3…” Blair’s voice took on a pained note.
“I’ll find them!”
Unfortunately, he didn’t find them in the kitchen, either on the counter or in any of the drawers he occasionally left them in. “Come on, come on!” He ran into the bedroom.
“You don’t keep them in the underwear drawer!”
“I know that!” He was on his way out when he tripped… over his keys. How had they wound up on the floor? He frowned, but decided he’d ponder that later. The important thing was that he had them. “Come on. Let’s go!”
They got to the hospital as fast as they could. It was a good thing Blair was a cop, because Cycl0n3 ignored all speed limits getting to the hospital. Blair was so out of it from labor pains that she didn’t even lecture him. “We made it,” Cycl0n3 said, relieved. “Let’s get this baby delivered.”
“You’re going to stay with me, right?”
“Of course! We’ve got to watch little Wh1rlw1nd Sw0rd come into the world.”
“What?!” Blair gave him a look that could best be described as “what the plumbob?”
“It’s a great name, isn’t it? Wh1rlw1nd with ones for i’s? At least if it’s a girl? Maybe we’ll go with Typh00n with zeroes if it’s a boy.”
The look he got for that was even more withering, and he held up his hands. “Kidding! Sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh. I swear.”
“Not funny,” Blair groaned while they finished admitting her.
Blair’s labor lasted several hours. Although her mother would point out later that it was not the sixteen hours she endured having her, it didn’t happen at Patrick’s warp-speed arrival, either. For what felt like an eternity, Blair breathed hard, pushed harder, and eventually gave birth to a healthy baby boy with Cycl0n3 at her side.
“Whoa.” Cycl0n3 was in awe as the nurse handed their newborn to them. “It’s almost unreal. This little guy is… ours.” He watched the infant curl his tiny fingers around his pinky. “And he’s cute. Clearly from you. I’m not that cute.”
“You’re not so bad,” a tired Blair teased back. “I can see some of you in him.”
“What should we put for a name on the certificate?” asked the nurse.
Blair and Cycl0n3 exchanged looks. “Chris,” Cycl0n3 said. “That’s still the name you want for a boy, right?”
“Yes. I always liked that name, even if you didn’t. I think it suits him.”
“It’s not so much I don’t like it. Just that I like other names better.”
“Like Cycl0n3 spelled with vowel numbers.” Blair smiled at her husband.
“Yeah. But Chris Sw0rd is a pretty cool name for our firstborn.”
The appropriate paperwork was filled out, and after a rest, Blair and Chris were declared healthy and discharged to go home.
It wasn’t until they were back in their driveway that Cycl0n3 remembered he’d driven to the hospital, and their car was still in the parking lot.
Susan and Boyd were thrilled when they got the news that they were officially grandparents. “We can’t wait to meet him!” Susan exclaimed. Cycl0n3 had texted them both pictures from the hospital, but of course they were eager to see and hold the baby.
“That’s right. We’ve got a grandson to spoil, and an uncle who’s going to be the big kid in the family now. The Captain finally has his Number One.”
“Num-by One!” Patrick echoed from his high chair. He was learning more words all the time.
Both Susan and Boyd spent time teaching him. They had their babysitter play educational shows on TV for him while they were at work, and in the evenings and on their days off, they sat with him to help him learn.
He was a fast study and very bright, just like Blair had been. Boyd and Susan felt a touch of guilt when they remembered Blair at Patrick’s age. Her grandparents had taught her many of the skills they were now teaching Patrick, because they had been tired and overwhelmed as young parents. They regretted not being there to hear those first words or see those first learning steps when they happened. They wanted to make sure they didn’t miss them with Patrick, too.
The first chance they had, Susan and Boyd visited Blair, Chris, and Cycl0n3. Patrick was still too young to grasp the concept of a new family member, but he was curious about the baby. Susan and Boyd were proud of their grandchild and took turns holding him, while Blair carried around Patrick and played with him.
“You did a great job on his room,” Susan told Blair. “It’s bright and cheery. And I see you’re well stocked on toys.”
“Toys!” Patrick perked up at the familiar word.
“Well, we all like toys, don’t we, Captain?” Blair bounced her little brother. “Yes we do!”
“I know you always did.” Susan cuddled baby Chris. “I bet your Mommy will still be playing with your toys even after you outgrow them.”
“Just be careful. All these toys have safety warnings on them nowadays. Manufacturers are pretty good about labeling, but you still get recall notices sometimes,” Boyd warned. “And Chris seems a bit too curious for his own good. When we got him from the crib, he was reaching through the bars. I saw you’ve got everything a safe distance, though.”
“I know, Dad. You don’t need to worry. I promise. I read all that stuff. I even child-proofed the outlets in there. Did you see the little doggy-face covers?”
“I did. Cute. We have spaceship ones in Patrick’s room.”
Their renewed focus on family at home did not take away from the Wainwrights’ focus on their project at work. Their research was going well. After so many years of marriage, working together was second nature to them. The data coming in at each stage of their project supported their theories about the life fruit compounds, and gave them new leads to work with in creating a chemical formula that would give its benefits.
“The element in the tanzanite is what makes the alchemy formula glow, but what purpose that serves beyond it?” Boyd shrugged at the science station. “Still can’t figure that out. No part of it reacts with any of the active compounds.”
“It seems silly that they’d add it just for aesthetics. Kind of wasteful to use a gem just for that.” Susan tweaked the formula she was working out on the white board. “There must be something else it does.”
“Maybe if we knew more about alchemy itself, it’d make sense,” Boyd mused.
“If you want to study it, knock yourself out. I wouldn’t have the patience to wade through all that mystical mumbo jumbo.”
Boyd chortled. “Now now, Cornelia’s cousin wouldn’t approve of your naysaying of her eye of newt and wing of bug standard operating procedure.”
“Well, if she can make a scientific justification for using expensive gems other than ‘oooh, it makes it sparkly,’ maybe I’ll take it more seriously. Not that you could call alchemy science.”
“You could apply scientific principles to it. The basic concept of mixing reagents could be compared to chemistry. Kind of like cooking. Actually, those alchemy books I thumbed through read a lot like cookbooks. Weird, arcane cookbooks with unappetizing ingredients.”
“Half of the cookbooks out there aggravate me, too. The imprecise ones that don’t give real measurements or define terms? Terrible for someone learning. I’ve managed, but you’ve seen my cooking notes. How many times have I had to note actual temperatures and weights instead of what the recipe says?”
“You figured it out and became a great cook anyway,” Boyd pointed out.
“I was motivated.”
“Yes. And because you wanted to learn it, you applied the science you know to it in order to understand it.”
Susan gave Boyd a curious look. “Are you saying we should do that with alchemy?”
“I’m saying I wouldn’t rule it out if the usual methods don’t give us answers.” The analyzer beeped. “Although we might not need a trip to ye olde magical archives if we keep getting results like this. Check this out.” He motioned her over to the machine he was on.
“That’s… that’s incredible!” Susan’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Look at those numbers!”
“I know. 95.3% increase in cellular regeneration? Incredible! It’s only preliminary, but—”
“But still! This is the best run yet. How much more of the base formula do we have?”
“The LI-WX923? Just this.” Boyd held up a flask on the chemistry bench. “It’s not the most shelf stable of our formulations, but that’s minor if it’s this good.”
“We need to run a more thorough sampling as soon as possible, and get a real statistical analysis on it. What do you think?”
“I think we’re on to something amazing.”
After work, Boyd and Susan relaxed and watched a new episode of a favorite show. It was over Patrick’s head, but he had fun sitting with them and playing with Buddy anyway. They still had no idea who sent him the doll, but they were glad that whoever it was did, because it was now his favorite toy. He loved Buddy and took him everywhere.
Afterward, they ate dinner. Patrick was tired and cranky when he finished. He wailed and kicked in his high chair.
“The babysitter said he didn’t nap today,” Boyd said with a sigh.
“And it shows.” Susan picked him up out of the high chair. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Nononononononono!”
“I’m glad you’ve mastered that word, but it’s not going to help.” Her tone was quiet but firm. “Say night-night.”
Patrick’s stubborn response was to shriek angrily, and Boyd chuckled in spite of it. “Don’t think that’ll get you far with your mom. Good night.” He gave him a little wave as Susan carried him out of the room, ignoring the irate protest and flailing feet of her son.
Boyd was about to put the dishes in the dishwasher when he saw a bright flash out of the corner of his eye, like lightning had just struck their back patio. It was accompanied by a loud cracking noise, one with a strange mechanical hum unlike any thunder he’d ever heard. “What the…?” Startled, he set the plate down and went to investigate.
Whatever he expected to see when he looked out the sliding doors, it was not for the patio to have sprouted a strange alien-looking four-pronged metal device with a glowing disc in its base. “What the plum?!”
Boyd threw open the doors and went outside. Words failed him as a mixture of curiosity and panic fueled every weird and paranoid theory he’d ever had about such phenomena. “It’s real…” First he touched it, and then gingerly, he stepped onto it. It wasn’t some bizarre hallucination! It was real! As much as Boyd believed in such things and wanted to be proven right, he had never seen firsthand evidence of them before.
And there it was. Hard, cold metal. Humming, pulsing, alien metal. “Holy llama…”
A sudden burst of energy and light knocked Boyd backwards and nearly off of his feet. As he struggled to regain his bearings, he saw a figure coming through it. “An alien portal?”
“You’re half right,” replied the nonchalant voice of the blue-haired man who came through the gateway. “It’s a portal, but it’s not alien. This is one hundred percent Earth tech. Wellsian Time Portal, Build 6.0. Most reliable to my date, larger-than-I’d-like standard model used by all time travelers like myself.” He pulled out a device and checked its readout. “And far more reliable than that pocket prototype, judging by this trip.”
“Time portal?” an incredulous Boyd repeated. “Time traveler?!”
The man straightened and extended his hand. “Emit Relevart, time traveler of Oasis Landing and… architect? Yes, we’ll go with that. That works. Architect of this particular timeline project.” Boyd shook his hand, stunned. “And you should be Boyd Wainwright, resident of 53 Maywood Lane, Sunset Valley, and renowned scientist. Correct?”
“I don’t know how renowned I am, but, yes, that’s me.” He looked Emit over in wonder. “You’re from the future?”
“I don’t look like I’m from the past, do I? Yes. I’m from the future. 354 years, 5 months, and 18 days, to be precise.”
“Wow. 354 years?” Boyd was amazed, and wondered where Susan was. Hadn’t she seen or heard anything? He glanced over his shoulder. “Wait, let me get my wife—”
“Your wife, Susan Wainwright. Same age as you, also famously brilliant. You’re scientists working at Landgraab Industries, and the parents of a son named Patrick, at least you should be by now, and a daughter named Blair, a police officer.” Emit smirked. “A real crusader for justice, that one. Glad I didn’t end up on the wrong side of her cuffs.”
“Why do you know so much about us? Have you met Blair?”
“Yes, about twelve hours ago. She tried to arrest me when I popped into the wrong part of this town-time.” He paused and considered. “Though if my calculations are right, that was back before your son was born, so, longer for you. Time travel perspective. Gotta love it.”
“Blair never mentioned meeting a time traveler.” But then Boyd did remember Blair telling him about a weird case on the Landgraab Estate a while back where a “crazy blue-haired guy” broke into their garage and disappeared in a flash. “Wait. Was it over at the Landgraabs’?”
“Yes. The Landgraabs. What a pain in the capacitors, that Nancy. But enough about that. I’m here to see you. Actually, I was then, too, but my pocket portal had some issues and drifted way too early.”
“You were looking for me?”
“You and your wife. You two did incredible things, you know. Your research was, or rather, is, groundbreaking.” Emit smiled. “One of the perks of being a time traveler is the chance to meet your personal heroes.”
Boyd was flattered. “Susan and I are personal heroes?”
“Sure are. Don’t look so surprised. Don’t you have mentors and historical figures you look up to?”
“Well, yes.”
“So do I. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and give you this.” Emit handed Boyd a high-tech tablet-like device. “This is a time almanac. It keeps track of things in the timeline. It can answer some of your questions, and it’ll be a useful resource for you if you choose to assist me on my project.”
“What project?”
“Fixing certain issues in the timeline. That’s what I do, my responsibility as a dedicated time traveler. I’ve taken on the task of managing it, overseeing it, and occasionally making tweaks to ensure a better future with the help of others who want to see the best for simkind. Without creating world-destroying paradoxes or other messy mistakes in the process, of course.”
“That would be a real risk with time travel.”
“Indeed, and it’s not one I take lightly. But I need assistance from someone in your time period, so I figured, who better to ask than great minds who made accomplishments in their own? Or will, soon enough. I imagine you already have an idea of what I’m talking about,” Emit said with a knowing look. “I’d be honored if you and your wife would help me. Is she inside?”
“Yes! Of course!” Boyd ran for the door, shouting for Susan.
When she came out into the living room, he began explaining in a rush. Susan had just put Patrick to bed and barely understood what Boyd was saying because he was talking so fast. She asked him to slow down, and he took her hand. “Just come with me!”
They went out to the patio. Confused and shocked, Susan listened as Boyd introduced her to Emit, and the time traveler explained the situation to her. Like Boyd, she was first stunned, and then amazed and flattered that someone from so far in the future held her in high regard. Susan had always wanted to be remembered for her scientific contributions, and hearing that it was definitely going to happen made her feel proud and excited. “How can we help you?” she asked Emit. “Surely technology like this,” she gestured to the portal, “is far beyond anything we’ve got now, in our time period.”
“It’s not so much the tech, but knowledge, and what you can do with it.”
“Knowledge we have, or knowledge you’re going to share with us?” asked Boyd.
“Some of Column A, and some of Column B.”
Boyd eyed him thoughtfully. “But couldn’t Column B knowledge break the timeline? If you let us see things that haven’t been invented, we could be influenced into creating them, or indirectly lead to their creation ourselves. These things could then exist before their time and alter the course of history, or, just become the natural progression of events, necessitating you to always make this trip and give us this information for the timeline to go the way it should, which implies all sorts of—”
Susan groaned. “This is why Janeway hated time travel.”
“Janeway?” Emit was puzzled. “Is that one of your peers? I don’t know that name.”
“No. That’s just some, uh, lore from our time,” Boyd explained.
“Never mind that. Boyd has a point. Isn’t it a concern? Not to mention unethical, if we’re credited for something that was given to us?” Susan frowned. “Call me arrogant, but I don’t want to be remembered for anything I didn’t actually do.”
“Another reason I admire the two of you, and I promise, I’d never put you in that position,” Emit assured them. “You’re right. If I passed out future tech and knowledge to just anyone, it would be dangerous, and, great woolly llamas, would it wreak havoc in the timeline! But what I’m talking about is at most, giving you a nudge along a path you’re already on, if even that. I’ve done the calculations and run the simulations. It won’t harm the timeline to have one of you come back with me.”
“One of us? Not both?” asked Boyd.
“As a rule, I don’t take more than one new traveler on an initial trip. I’m sorry. It’s frustrating, but necessary.”
“Why not?”
“Time travel can have unforeseen consequences. Projections rule most of them out, but there’s always an element of chance that can’t be ignored.”
“It’s not safe, you mean,” said Susan. “Something could go wrong, and happen to one of us.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily put it that way. The portal is safe. I can assure you of that.”
“But one of us could get waffled by a spaceship or something, die in the future, and never come back. Is that what you mean?”
“Like I said, I don’t take too much of a chance with chance. So, one of you. Just for this first trip. You can both come once I’ve gotten one of you there and back.”
“I see.” Boyd was conflicted. The promise of a trip to the future was amazing, but going without Susan, or staying behind while she went…
She made up her mind almost immediately. “You should go,” she told Boyd.
“Susan—”
“No. I mean it.” She smiled. “Let’s be honest, this is the kind of thing you’ve dreamed for a chance to do your whole life.”
“And you haven’t? Come on, I know better. The chance to see the future, what lies ahead for the world, and experience things most of us can only imagine?”
“Of course I’d love to go! But I don’t think it’d mean as much to me to be first as it would to you, if it can only be one of us. As long as I get to go next, I’m okay with it.” Susan took Boyd’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “So I’ll stay. It’s not like we could just leave Patrick alone here anyway.”
“No. That’s true. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to him. Even if we planned to return back to this instant, I just… no, too risky.” Boyd gave Susan a meaningful look. “I won’t lie and say I don’t want to go, but I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t feel guilty going when you can’t.”
“Don’t. Go, and have an amazing trip. Then come home and tell me all about it, and don’t leave a single detail out when you do.” She looked at the portal. “Which wouldn’t even feel like that long, if you came back to now. You can do that, right?”
“Shouldn’t feel any longer than a bathroom break on your end.” Emit turned to Boyd. “What do you say? Ready to take a trip through time?”
“Sure!” His enthusiasm was back with Susan’s reassurance. “I’d love to go! Just let me go inside and say goodbye to Patrick first. I know it’ll only be for a few minutes for him, but still.”
“Of course.” Emit and Susan followed Boyd inside.
Patrick hadn’t fallen asleep yet, and he sat up when his father came into the room. “Just wanted to tell you good night.” Boyd gave him a hug. “You’re going to be good for your mom, right?”
“Be good,” Patrick echoed, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.
“All right. You sleep well.” He kissed Patrick’s forehead and moved Buddy closer to him. Patrick put his arm around the doll and closed his eyes. Boyd watched him for a moment, and then pulled out his phone to send Blair a quick text. He said nothing out of the ordinary, but it felt right to do it anyway.
Before going back out, he embraced Susan. “I’m going to miss you. This is really exciting, but I wish you were coming with me.”
“Which is why you’ll bring me along when you get back. I’ll call Blair and see if she’ll watch Patrick for a few hours, so we know he’s safe. You might even be back before I’m done.” Susan hugged Boyd a little tighter despite that. “Be careful. Don’t engage any Biffs in the future.”
“Not without a trusty DeLorean getaway car.” He kissed her. “See you soon.”
“I’ll see you sooner. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Susan watched from the open sliding door as Boyd and Emit entered the portal. “Do I need to do anything with that while you’re gone?”
“Just keep the toddler and any curious snoops away from it. Other than that, it’s pretty indestructible. This thing can even take a lightning hit and still work.” He looked up at the sky. “Which in this weather is a good thing.”
The time portal glowed and widened, and Boyd stepped in. He waved to Susan, and she waved back, hoping to see him soon and wishing him luck. Emit followed, and their silhouettes both disappeared. There was a loud hum, a brighter flash, and a crack like thunder… and then they were gone.
