Donald sighed and slapped his hands at his side. He turned around,
hesitated for a few seconds, then said to the wall, "I've tried. I've
tried everything I could think of." He turned again and faced them, and
he raised his gun. "You're coming, Mimi. One way or another, you're
coming."
So quietly he hardly realized what he was doing, but thankful that the
gas pain had vanished, Victor stepped between the gun and the girl.
"You'll have to kill me, Donald," he said. "You won't take her out of
here without killing me, I promise you that, and what will that do to
your future? A man from the future killing somebody here? Oh, no,
that'll upset everything. And before I've become famous? Your whole
history will be changed. You'd better think twice, Donald."
The gun wavered, and lowered.
"Would you care for a martini, Donald, dear?" Mimi asked.
Donald turned and ran from the room. They heard his feet slipping down
the stairs, they heard the front door slam behind him.
Victor started after him, but Mimi held him back. "What are you going to
do," she cried, "chase after him? What will you do when you catch him?
You're needed more here. After all," she continued, "think what I just
went through? I'm a nervous wreck, almost getting carted off to God
knows where like that. I need the care of a competent physician."
He turned back to her in a daze, she clucked and patted his cheek, and
pushed him down onto the bed. She pulled out his handkerchief and mopped
his face. "Aren't you proud of me?" she said. "Wasn't that fast
thinking? How did you like that little story I told? It really threw
him, didn't it? He didn't know _what_ to think."
"You mean," Victor stammered, "you mean you didn't mean it, you just
made it up? Just like that?"
"Darling," she began to giggle, "you didn't bel_ieve_ that wild story?
About the future? Oh, _darling_, you couldn't possibly believe it."
"Of course not," he said. "Of course not. Quick thinking, Mimi, yes,
very quick thinking. It _was_ a convincing story, you know. Very good.
But, my God! I've got to catch him."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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