Chapter 5 - Treason of Fate

Actually, yes, Monica... You WERE that close

You can read all previous chapters for Treason of Fate HERE.

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September 13, 2073, 2 months ago

0815

Monica awoke with puffy eyes and a clogged nose, the gently-increasing volume of her alarm reminding her of how important today was. No slapping the snooze button this morning, allergies be damned.

With a downright feral groan, she rolled out of bed, pulling on the stretch pants and flip flops she’d left on the floor the previous night. It was too cool for flip flops and there might even be rain later, but she wanted something easy to slip on and off. Something that wouldn’t make her take too long or, worse, look clumsy in front of Dr. Storm or that awful Alfredo boy.

Pushing her thick hair out of her face, she gave her reflection a quick glance and sighed. Even if she took her allergy meds right now, it would be hours before the swelling around her eyes went down. A sharp pain radiated through her jaw as she unconsciously clenched her teeth.

You can still look sharp. Don’t panic! she scolded herself, breathing deeply and talking herself out of the mental image of being presented to the University President as a swollen, frizzy mess.

It would just take more work to look decent today. Flat irons and concealer were invented for this very thing. Monica nodded to herself in the mirror, ignoring the sheen of sweat that appeared on her upper lip. You will be the best there ever was. No one can take this from you.

Tearing her eyes away from the mirror, Monica reached for her phone, only to see a text message had come in while she was sleeping. From Dr. Storm.

“God damnit!” she yelled, furiously swiping to bring the display up. She hadn’t silenced the phone so why hadn’t the chime woken her? “Why does nothing work?” she yelled again, biting down on her lip afterwards, hoping she hadn’t woken Shannon. “All I ask is that things work.”

Hysterical tears had crept into her voice, so she took another deep breath and focused on reading the message.

Ms. Savala, Mel Storm here. I wanted to let you know there’s been a small change in our return trip. Nothing to worry about. No change needed on your part, but I wanted to keep you apprised. We’ll talk more at the muster. Ta.

Tilting her head back as if fighting a nosebleed, Monica sucked in a long, relieved sigh. It was nothing. Just a respectful note from a colleague. Everything will be fine. No one is going to expel you.

In her hand, her phone beeped the quarter hour. Time to leave. Her bed still unmade, Monica stepped out of her bedroom and searched the common area for the massive tote bag she’d packed the night before. It was on the sofa, right where she’d left it, but something else caught her attention.

Shannan’s bedroom door was still closed and there was no light shining under the door.

Feeling her brow pinch in alarm, Monica walked over to the door, listened for a moment, then tapped lightly.

“Shannan? You in there?”

No response. Monica briefly considered letting it be. Maybe she had a guy in there?

“No,” she said out loud, pushing open Shannan’s door, revealing her room to be empty. And her bed unmade.

A sour, roiling feeling rose up in Monica’s stomach and her hand clenched hard around her phone. Her fingers shook as she brought her phone display up once more, seeking out Shannan’s number.

She never left her bed unmade. Nor did she ever sleep in. Four years of living together and Shannan had never once stayed in bed past 6:30. This was the most important day of both their careers and suddenly Shannan was out late? No, something was wrong.

“Hello, this is Shannan. I’m not available to take your call right now—”

Monica ended the call, truly panicking now.

Please tell me she wouldn’t…

Monica grabbed her bag and fled out the door, spinning on her toes to double back as she remembered to lock it behind her. She toe-ran down the hall as fast as she could, trying to be quiet for the other dorm residents, those who weren’t traveling in time today.

Instead of jumping into the nearest elevator, Monica ran to the large window at the end of the hall, the one looking directly down on the parking lot.

As a Graduate Assistant, Shannan had a designated spot right up front. And her shining burgundy minivan was sitting in it.

Where would she go without her car?

Monica’s mind went to all the highway overpasses within walking distance, making her feel sick to her stomach. Now she got into an elevator, wishing with all her might the damn thing would just drop her down the three floors as quickly as possible.

When Daniel was arrested, Shannan had well and truly flipped, calling her grandmother and begging her to help. Monica had never seen her act like that. They were best friends, so when Miss “Everything happens for a reason” and “The Universe works out as it should” started railing against God and “the system,” it had actually been alarming to witness.

Once it became clear the great Kathleen Mulligan would not be able to help Daniel, Shannan had switched from fury at the injustice and corruption of it all into a deep depression.

And now she was missing.

Once the elevator brought her to the ground floor, she ran out of the dorm and straight to her getting, diving behind the wheel. But once she put the car in gear she realized she had no idea where to look.

Without a clear target area, she circled the outer edges of campus, then turned onto Troost, doing two passes along each side of the road, as there were quite a few pedestrians out this morning. But no sign of Shannan’s shining tawny hair, which she almost always let hang down her back.

Throwing her phone down hard on the seat after another call went to voicemail, Monica turned toward Crown Center, ignoring the blaring horn of the car she cut off.

The Kansas City metro was huge! She couldn’t search it all and still get—

“That’s her!” she screamed to herself, pulling over to the side of the road at the sight of Shannan walking alone past Panera Bread.

Her panic was immediately replaced by fury at the sight of coffee and cake in her friend’s hand, not to mention the look of surprise on her face.

She jumped out of the car. “What the hell are you doing?” she screamed at her.

Shannan looked at her like she was insane. “I was just getting coffee on my way to the TSC. Why—”

“There are ten other coffee shops closer to TSC!” she exploded, her arms shooting out from her body. “You suck at lying Shannan, I know I’ve told you that.”

“Monica, don’t be—”

“If you say unkind I will choke you to death!”

At the look of shock and hurt on Shannan’s face, Monica sucked in another deep breath and counted to three. “I woke up and you were gone. I was afraid… were you going to do something?”

Understanding washed over her face. “Oh, Monica… no.” She set the coffee and paper bag down directly on the pavement and stepped over to her, pulling her in for a hug. “I’m so sorry I made you worry. You’ve been really nervous about the trip and I didn’t want to wake you up. I went and got my clothes because I was afraid of getting stuck in something that my boobs wouldn’t fit in. And I was just killing time. That’s all.”

Monica sagged in her friend’s arms, so relieved she’d been wrong, even if she felt like an asshole for parking her car in the middle of the street. And yelling at Shannan.

Of course Shannan would do that. She was supposed to be traveling to the past with Daniel today. Together, the two of them would have been interviewing a woman tanner who made some sort of proto-hydraulic machine. It was the last trip for Shannan before she got her masters in temporal engineering, maybe her last trip period. And now she had to do it alone. No wonder she was freaking out about her outfit.

Pulling out of the hug, Monica looked at Shannan, still holding onto her shoulders. “I’m worried about you. Everything with Daniel… and now you’re spending time with Dr. Chandrasekhar…”

“That’s nothing. Really,” she waved a hand, her face flushing.

“Is it? Because I’m kind of noticing a pattern here,” she pressed, though careful to keep judgment out of her voice.

Tears filled Shannan’s eyes, making them look bigger and even more green.

That was always the way. Shannan cried, and any actual discussion was tabled. Then Monica felt bad for making her cry and simultaneously pissed off at being manipulated into dropping the subject. But she’d never successfully pressed onward with any conversation once the tears started, nor would she today.

“Please just be my friend right now,” Shannan whispered.

“I’m always your friend.” Monica pulled her in for another hug, this one tighter, but quicker.

They both had somewhere to be.