Painting, Flowers, Glass

Martin hadn't wanted to steal the chip, but it was the only way he could get to the right year and fix the timeline--maybe. Montgomery, Alabama, the afternoon of September 2, 2022, a painting of flowers on glass--that was all he had to go on and it wasn't enough, but here he was, and it seemed the city museum was a good place to start.

After an hour, he had visited all three floors, but no paintings of flowers on glass. He turned to leave and happened to glance out of the window. Below, on the grass next to a pond was a young woman painting, and the sun was such that Martin noticed that she was daubing a paintbrush on something that reflected light sharply.

Glass.

Down the stairs, through the doors, outside, and in a moment he was standing beside her.

"You're Victoria," he said, slipping his hand in his pocket and fingering a vial there, searching for the top of it.

She looked at him, searching his face and finding something familiar there. "That's right. Do I know you?"

With his hand in his pocket, Martin pressed the top of the vial and an odorless chemical sprayed out of it, filling his pocket and coating his hand. He brought his hand up and offered it. "I'm Martin," he said. "I believe we may be related."

The young woman grasped the hand and the chemical that would reverse the cancer growing in her transferred to her skin. "Related?"

"I have to leave," Martin said, and without another word, he did just that, stepping back into the museum, where he would enter the men's room, activate the chip, and return to a whole new 2348. He hoped.