The primary coil must be able to withstand the massive charge and huge surges of current, so it’s usually made out of copper, because copper is a very good conductor of electricity. I was careful to use copper plates in the structure of all my time machines for that very purpose.

When you have a time machine to play with, creating this kind of circuit is easy. Without one, it gets trickier. I would, essentially, need to use a piece of copper to connect the person with the electronic matter inside their body, to the person without any exotic matter inside their body. Unfortunately, I can’t think of a way to accomplish that that doesn’t, quite literally, involve knives and stabbing.

Which, obviously, won’t work.

19

Three visits down.

Dorothy sighed, deeply, as she climbed back into the Black Crow. It was cold in the time machine, and her breath ghosted in the night air, hanging before her lips like a silver cloud. The leather seats felt icy beneath her thin cloak, and her fingers were stiff and awkward with cold. She had to open and close her fists a few times before she began the process of flipping switches and checking dials, to get the blood in her hands moving.

She didn’t know how much time had passed since she’d come back. Had she spent a full twenty-four hours chasing after Ash, tiptoeing around in the past? Had it been longer?

Her eyes blinked closed as these thoughts circled her head. All she knew was that she was tired, tired down to her bones. Weight tugged at her, her entire body begging for sleep, and yet she forced her eyes back open and gave her cheek a soft pat.

She couldn’t sleep yet. There was still one more visit to go.

The visit. The one she’d been dreading.

She set the time machine to hover, feeling a slight drop in her gut as the ship lifted off the waves and vibrated in midair. For a moment, she couldn’t manage to catch her breath.

She thought of Ash’s empty boat, illuminated by the ever-changing light of the anil.

She thought of the veil of blood floating on the water and the abandoned gun at the bottom of his boat.

A sob clawed its way up her throat, but she swallowed it back down. No tears, not yet.

NOVEMBER 11, 2077

The world was just as it had been. Same frighteningly still black water, rippling in the wind, same dark and distant sky. If Dorothy tilted her head and listened very carefully she could hear the hoots and shouts of the Cirkus Freaks leaving the Fairmont and boarding their motorboats. Soon, she knew, the waters would be filled with them. It felt like she’d been gone for years, but it had been only moments. She doubted anyone had even noticed her missing.