The next jaunt through time was more difficult. And so was the next. Each one took a little more out of us, although it hit Quanta harder than me.

From the moment we snapped back to breakfast, our reactions changed how the day played out. The friendlier we looked, the faster Darren cracked. He loved having me gunned down by security and I was aching for the future that let me get a piece of him.

It wasn’t fast progress, but we learned something new every time, following Quanta’s leads to build a map of the underground.

After ten jumps, Quanta’s med data read like she was nursing a rough hangover and I had a pounding headache of my own.

But we were getting close. Only one lift—a private one used by the senior research staff—stood between us and where we suspected Darren’s lab might be. It was the same lift I’d taken when I entered the facility—one that had a stop at ground level.

Now we were stuck trying to find a way past the hand scanner, and time was ticking.

Quanta looked ten times as exhausted as I felt, leaning heavily into the plastic table, her fingers clammy against mine. We needed to get out of the loop and the facility before something—either death or separation—locked us in.

Still okay? I asked, making sure our fingers stayed touching.

She winced. Four hours was pushing it on that last one.

You should take a break. I wasn’t sure we had that choice, but Quanta needed rest. The differences in her readings were already obvious and Darren was going to start asking questions.

No. Quanta gave her head a little shake. The longer we wait, the harder it is to wind back. I’m afraid what happens if we push the limits.

I wanted to argue to protect her from herself, but our situation was desperate and I trusted her to say when she needed to stop. Can you make an excuse to get me in touch with the other senior researchers? I think we’ve tapped out all the other possibilities.

Maybe. Quanta’s brow furrowed as her eyes slipped out of focus. But we have to change our acting, too. We’re getting too cozy.

I stared at the place our fingers touched. The more time we spent together, the more she felt like part of me. I kept glimpsing bluish flashes of the past and future, and I was starting to predict her motions and decisions before she made them. Part of that was repeating the same hours, but she was right.

We were getting too cozy. So we play enemies?

I’ll treat you like I treated Marco. Darren will love it.