The cool night air carried the fragrance of an earlier rain as it tunneled through narrow streets. Morley woke with his back propped against a brick wall, his muscles aching. With a tired hand he rubbed the moisture from his eyes and took in his surroundings. A soft glow in the distance hailed the coming of the morning sun and reflected pale light on the surfaces of puddles in the street.
His hand fell to a pair of goggles around his neck. With a twinge of apprehension, Morley realized that he'd been here before. The events of the last couple of days played back in his mind like a bad dream and he shook them off. Morley reached for his signature recorder, trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing. He felt through his jacket pockets. They were empty.
Morley looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching and rose painfully to his feet. He found himself faced with a human specter. The shape approached him, glimmering like a cloud of steam. Its limbs phased in and out of view as it came and then took solid form an arm's length away from him. A young woman took shape in front of him, her pale golden hair skimming across her face in a light breeze. Morley knew that face. His body trembled and his legs failed him.
"Hello, Dad," she said, softly.
Morley was dumbstruck. Of all the things he had seen as an investigator, nothing could match what he was seeing now. Two years had passed since Camina disappeared and yet she stood before him not as a little girl but as a grown woman. A swarm of questions raced to his mouth at once.
"You can't...it's...but how...I...you're..."
"The anachronite you've been trying to find," Camina finished. The weight of it all bore down on Morley as he looked up at his daughter. She saw the questioning in his eyes and explained.
"I'm the one that saved you from Nathan's bullet at Seer. I'm the one that warned Nathan about his family's fate. I've been trying to help Jennifer I've been watching out for you as best I can but even the best of intentions can go wrong. So many fates to consider," she sighed wearily. Morley's mind cleared for a moment as he stood and searched Camina's tired eyes.
"Why did you leave me, Camina? I've tried so hard to find you. I couldn't...I couldn't help you." Camina clasped her arms across her chest and lowered her head. A soft breeze encircled them and Morley heard a slight whisper, "I'm sorry." Camina pulled a wisp of hair behind her ear.
"When the burglar broke into our house that night," she said, slowly, "I was so afraid. Mom couldn't stop him and I hid under my bed and wished myself to a safe place - repeated over and over in my mind that I could just disappear, but nothing happened. He grabbed my arm to pull me out and I screamed. As soon as I pulled back everything turned red and time fled from me and when I finally woke up, everything was different. I had escaped but I was lost."
Morley listened with his mouth open as Camina continued. Faint beads of moisture glittered beneath her eyes. "I lived as an orphan for fifteen years," she said, "in a time I didn't know and a place I'd never been. By the time I knew how to come back, I was afraid the shock of you seeing me alive would be worse than having you think I was dead." Morley shook his head, disbelieving.
"You went to Jennifer first," he said.
"No, I found you first," she corrected. "I watched you where you slept in your dusty attic space and I found this." She drew a worn photograph out of her jacket and showed it to him. The bright smiles of Katherine and Camina radiated out to Morley, spanning a chasm of memory. "I found you first and then sought out Jennifer in the past."
"Time doesn't work like that," Morley said.
"There is no time," Camina countered.
"What?"
"There is no time as you know it," she stated. "There are moments, yes," she twirled the photograph in her fingers. "There are events that connect with one another, but nothing to say how fast or slow they go or even in what direction. You see it in a straight line because that's all anyone ever expected to perceive. Terms like 'first' and 'last' don't mean that much now."
"How do you know this?" Morley gasped.
Camina closed her eyes slowly and smiled. "When I was a little girl, my father came home injured one day. He looked at me and spoke a word that I'd never heard before - anachronism. It's a fascinating word. Something that exists in a time when it shouldn't." She leveled her gaze with Morley's. "The idea of something existing at the wrong time thrilled my imagination. My thoughts turned to it endlessly until, one day, it turned out that this one fantasy of mine was the pretense to something greater."
"A chrono walker is still just a person," Camina said. "There's nothing special about them or about me that lets us move the way we do. You yourself are no different from me or Jennifer or any other walker out there." She paused and tapped her forehead. "It's all up here."
Morley narrowed his eyes and battled against the doubts in his mind. Camina reached down and grasped his hand. "Don't worry," she said. "You will come to see the truth at your own time. There is so much out there to be seen. It's amazing." She smiled warmly and let go of her father's hand. "I will see you again," she promised, dropping the photograph into his lap. Morley watched as Camina turned, glimmering away into the street, and disappeared. A light breeze flowed over his damp cheeks, filling Morley's nostrils with the sweet smell of wet grass.
Morley held out his arm and felt the air with his hand. He looked at the picture in front of him. A tingle ran up to his shoulder as his mind drifted through the past. Gazing in awe, Morley watched his hand slowly begin to fade into the morning glow. Snapshots of his life flickered in and out view. Moments preserved forever in a rippling curtain of time.
