Slow Dreaming

By Anne Barwell

A Tempus Institute Story.

Should he change the past for love?

As an agent for the Tempus Institute, Jason Adams' task is to observe the past, not change it. But when he's sent to 21st-century Wellington, New Zealand, during the last week of aspiring songwriter Sean Henderson's life, Jason finds he can't just watch from a distance. He and Sean quickly become friends and then lovers, and when the song that's haunted Jason for years connects them in a way he never anticipated, he'll risk changing history for the chance of sharing a future with Sean.

Author's note:  This story was originally published in 2012 by another publisher. This edition has some added content, and uses UK/NZ spelling to reflect its setting.

Length: 72 pages/19K

• Language: English
• Publisher: LaceDragon Publishing
• Release date: Dec 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9780473505721

Book preview

1

He was reaching, falling. The music sang to him, promising him an eternity of everything he wanted. It caressed him, loved him, while at the same time, whispered goodbye.

The song started to fade, just like it always did. A whimper escaped his lips. No. Please. Don’t leave me again.

Why couldn’t it stay just this once? He sang the lyrics but already they didn’t make sense, sentences breaking into words, words disappearing into syllables.

They were important, not just because of what they said, but because of where they originated, if only he knew where that was. Unfortunately, all he was ever left with were snatches of a tune he couldn’t quite remember and glimpses of sunlight fading into shadow. Please, he whispered.

Someone shook him. He tried to pull away. He heard his name, the voice familiar, a woman calling him. She sounded so very far away.

Jason! Louder this time, closer, impossible to ignore.

He opened his eyes—the light burned them. He rubbed at them, his mind struggling to grasp something no longer there. A tall, dark-haired woman stepped away from the bed, her olive skin bathed in the sunshine streaming through the windows. Alisha? His voice sounded muffled, groggy. She’d always loved mornings. He hated them. What time is it?

Too late for you to be still in bed. Alisha sighed. He was nearly three years older than her, yet she often despaired of him acting his age, and reminded him of that fact frequently. I’ve been trying to wake you. James wants to see you. It’s important.

James? Jason buried himself in his pillows.

Wonderful. What had he done to screw up this time? An order to meet with the head of the Tempus Institute was never a good thing unless…. He ignored the sliver of hope that dared sneak through. Was his request to be sent somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t here, about to be granted?

Alisha urged him to sit up, then handed him a cup of steaming coffee. She settled herself on the end of his bed. You had that dream again, didn’t you?

He sipped at the coffee gratefully and nodded. It wasn’t the first time she’d woken him from this dream. It probably wouldn’t be the last. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to berate her for it. They’d been friends far too long for that.

Did you remember any of it this time?

He shook his head. Just a snatch of music, nothing more. He hummed the couple of bars for her, for all the good it did. It did nothing to shake the familiar feeling of panic that he’d just lost something very important. Or was about to.

Sorry. She stood and turned to go, giving him some privacy to dress. You still don’t remember any more of it, do you? They’d both tried to find the origins of that tune, to match the part of it to a whole.

No. He managed a smile, already focusing on the crap that was about to blow his way. But then I never do.

Two days spent in 2011, and nothing but rain. Jason brought the cup to his lips and drank slowly, savoring the taste. The coffee was bitter and darker in colour, even with the addition of milk, than he was used to, and tasted earthy for some reason.

The café felt warm, a cozy haven from the cold. He could get used to an assignment that meant spending hours drinking coffee and being surrounded by books. He gazed again at the bookshelves visible through the huge door that marked the threshold between the two businesses. Heaven on both counts. Combining a café and bookshop under the one roof was a brilliant idea. It was a shame neither of them existed in physical form in his own time, as it was just what he needed in order to distract himself from the events of the previous six months.

The tinkle of the small bell hooked over the front door signaled the arrival of another customer. Jason looked up and smiled. This was the real reason he was here, the person he was supposed to be observing and under no circumstances interacting with.

He added sugar to his coffee, stirring it absently. James had been adamant in that, and about the fact this was Jason’s last chance. One more screw-up and he’d find himself stuck down in the stacks forever. Time travel was a risky business; the timelines were definitely not something to be interfered with just because someone was curious or got double-dog-dared.

In hindsight, admitting to tapping that guy on the shoulder because of a dare had not been one of his brightest moments. How was he supposed to know what would happen next?

Sure, he could have read the paperwork attached to the assignment, but he’d never been one for that. Nor had he felt the inclination before now.

But there was something different about this assignment. As soon as he’d seen the photograph he knew he couldn’t turn it down.

Outside, the heavens opened, rain dancing on the roof in a mad tango with a full orchestra, complete with timpani, behind it. Water pelted against the window, people scurrying across the road seeking shelter.

He loved this time and Wellington in particular. It was simpler, nature as it was meant to be before man had begun to control everything. He stood, drawn to the rain, intending to experience it up close. Did he dare venture outside to let the water run over him, or would throwing his hands open to the heavens draw too much attention to him?

A loud clatter interrupted his flight of fancy. Someone swore. Papers flew in all directions, several heading towards the door when it opened again, bringing with it a sudden gust of wind. Without thinking, Jason bent to help pick up the papers, crawling under the