A Chronetic Memory (The Chronography Records Book 1) by Kim K. O'Hara Page A

not quite nine years ago, which is unusual because, as you know,” she looked at Kat, “I’m usually sampling things from hundreds of years ago.”
    Kat nodded.
    “This object was a padlock on an old iron gate.” Still no sign of recognition. “Marak, I saw you there.”
    He looked puzzled. “With a padlock? Where was this?”
    But Kat was getting it. “Nine years ago? Did it happen to be September 17?”
    Dani nodded, miserable. She felt ashamed, like she had intruded on a private moment without being invited. “Marak, all you did was shake the padlock and put it down. But I felt like I was spying on you.”
    A look of realization spread across his face, and he looked over at Kat. “September 17. That was … that was when we met, right? And the padlock must have been … the one on the gate to your uncle’s estate.”
    Kat patted his hand, “Very good!” She turned to Dani. “He always has a hard time remembering dates.”
    “Yeah, I remember that date. But, Dani, why would you feel like you were spying? There wasn’t anything personal about that moment. I was just shaking a padlock.”
    “I know. It wasn’t that. It’s just that these scans I do are always so far away, so long ago, that they’ve only been interesting historically. This was within my lifetime. And of all the objects and places and moments within those years, what are the chances that I’d see someone I know? It shook me.” She brushed her eyes, willing the tears away. “Maybe I’m being silly, but I had nightmares all last night.”
    “You’re not being silly,” Kat said firmly. “You’re just realizing what a lot of us have known for years.”
    Encouraged, Dani continued. “And then, this afternoon, I went to give a presentation to the high school. I used to do those all the time, back when I was first hired. All my starry-eyed enthusiasm won over whole crowds of kids. We see them as potential scientists, you know, and potential investors and publicists and film writers who will shape the attitudes of the world in years to come. I’ve always felt like a missionary, and I’m pretty good—really good—at it.”
    “But today was different?” Marak asked, keen on the story. In a family setting, she rarely saw the investigative journalist, but she could see it now. Marak was also really good at his job, mostly because people trusted him. They spilled their guts to him.
    “Today, the high schoolers won me over. They had questions I couldn’t answer. They’d done research and dug into the math of the whole thing, and I realized….” She took a breath. How to say this, exactly? “I realized that there is not only the potential to abuse this whole technology, but there’s an overwhelming probability that it is, in fact, being abused. I came away from that meeting determined to try to find out where the institute gets its money, and why it’s looking at things that happened so recently. I actually kind of joined their club.”
    Her two friends glanced at each other warily. “Dani, be careful. Sometimes it’s better to just let things lie.”
    “Or let people lie? And keep lying?” Dani exclaimed, with fervor. “Don’t you see? I’m worried about people I care about. I’m worried about you, Marak! Why would someone be asking me to investigate something you touched?”
    “Dani, really, don’t worry about me. Nothing happened there that day, except I walked away from the padlock, thought about climbing a fence, and greatly amused Kat in the process. There’s no vulnerability here. Really. Nothing to worry about.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “Positive.”
    Her tension began to melt away. She felt her shoulders relax. And then, perversely, the tears began to flow. Kat moved over to sit next to her on the couch and gave her a reassuring hug and a tissue. She blotted her eyes, wiping off most of her makeup in the process. The moment passed.
    “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”
    “It’s all good. You’re