“The secret is the butter,” Greg explained. “You wanna get your herbs and spices into it before you start cooking. When it starts to melt, it leeches the flavors out of them and helps them transfer to the steak better. Then you finish off with another knob on top while it’s resting. Keeps the juices where they belong.”

“God, this is going right to my thighs,” Loretta moaned. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Thomas said, grinning. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be gay?” Archie asked. 

“Hey, I can still be a wingman,” Thomas replied indignantly. “It’s a long and time-honored tradition to help our straight brothers out.”

“Ain’t no need for all that,” Greg said, his ears burning red. “We’re just having dinner, is all.”

“If you cook like this every night, I’m moving in,” Loretta said. 

“Good. You can help Archie with his binder,” Thomas said. 

“Yeah, if you think Greg’s blushing now, you shoulda seen him in the car,” Archie said. “I thought he was about to have an aneurysm.”

“If it’s got tits or tires, I don’t stand a chance,” Greg muttered. 

Thomas decided to take pity on Greg and changed the subject. 

“Hard to get used to seeing the Twin Towers,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “I’ve only been to NYC a couple of times, and only after they got taken out. That was a bad time for everyone.”

The dining room table sat by the large glass windows of the apartment, offering a stunning view of the New York skyline. Off in the distance, they could make out Manhattan, glittering against the twilight sky. 

“There’s a whole lot of trauma tied up in those years,” Loretta said. “It never really went away. At least, not in the first timeline. The War on Terror played a big part in the ecological collapse. In that timeline, technology was about twenty years behind what you’re used to, so Iraq had something like a fighting chance. Not only did they burn their own oil wells, they blew up every well within range of their SCUDs. It took over a year to get all the fires under control.”

“Yeah, I can’t see that doing anything good for the environment,” Archie said, shuddering. 

“Especially since the sheer amount of gunk spewed out actually managed to cool things off for a few years,” Loretta said. “Big governments encouraged consumers to burn more fuel to release greenhouse gasses. Most actual environmental scientists were horrified, but the powers that be had a couple of pet ones who told them what they wanted to hear. But hey, they mollified the Saudis, because that was important for some fucking reason.”

“Did anything get better in the next timeline?” Thomas asked. 

“Oh sure, at least, for a little while,” Loretta said. “Back then, Project Legacy was working in the open. Not about the time travel thing, mind you, but about our drive for fusion power. Everyone started going electric in a big way around 2010 or so, in preparation for the big F. By 2025, fossil fuels were just that: a fossil. Only a few legacy brands kept making internal combustion cars, mostly high-end sports models. Hell, we cut back emissions so much, they weren’t really a concern. Even if we hadn’t achieved fusion, we probably would have avoided the worst of the collapse.”

“So what happened?” Archie asked. 

“What happened is, I fucked up,” Loretta said. “The reactor wasn’t ready, but I insisted we try it anyway. After all, 99.99% safe is safe enough, right?”

“Stands to reason,” Greg said. 

“That’s what I thought, but that .01% bit us on the ass. The reactor containment failed during our second year of operation. That shouldn’t have been a huge issue, but we built the reactor in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Seawater got into the containment area before it could be shut down completely, and the reaction became self-sustained. There was nothing we could do but start over again, and get it right this time,” Loretta said. 

“That’s a heavy burden to carry,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “I’m not smart enough to question the distribution of blame, but I can’t imagine carrying it around all those years did you any favors.”

“It didn’t,” Loretta said. “In the third timeline, my most recent, I made sure we got it right. And we did, for real this time. However, it was already too late, so we had to start yet again. The fourth timeline was supposed to be the last.”

“And that’s when the murders started,” Archie guessed. 

“Yup. Just killing me wouldn’t have done too much harm to the project, but about a dozen others kicked the bucket, too. That was enough of a brain drain to set things back by a few decades. The world was still screwed, it just wasn’t as immediately apparent. So, they jumped back again, and dusted off older backups of the slain scientists, ones left over from the third timeline. And that’s where we are today,” she said. “And where you guys come in. I’d much rather avoid getting sliced up again if I can help it, so I’m glad you all signed on. I sincerely hope you manage to find the killers and give them their just desserts.”

“That’s a tall order,” Archie said. “Any idea who did it?”

“I spent 40 years looking for clues,” Greg said. “Even turned up a few. No names, at least, not important ones, but I know they call themselves the Abbadon Alliance. Real doomsday types. Not sure why, but they wanted the end of the world to happen, and didn’t take too kindly to folks trying to stop it.”

“That’s about all we know, too,” Loretta said. “Or at least, that’s what I thought.”

The table grew silent as the men turned to stare at Loretta. 

“I don’t know for sure,” she said, “but I think my past self, the one that was murdered, might’ve had a clue. I left myself a video message. It looks completely normal, aside from the fact that I seemed to be completely head over heels for a certain someone. No offense, Greg, but that’s not really my style.”

“None taken,” Greg replied. “She was just as surprised as anyone when we turned out happy.”

“Well, I think she knew something I don’t. Several somethings. I think she might have hidden some sort of clue in that video, and I think you might be the key to unlocking it,” Loretta said. 

“Hence you coming to see me,” Greg guessed. 

“Well, yes, but that’s not the only reason. I kind of wanted to see what all the fuss is about,” Loretta said, blushing. “I mean, my old self was pretty insistent that I give you a chance. I wouldn’t do that shits and giggles.”

“Would you think it terribly bold of me to inquire as to the verdict?” Greg asked. 

“If we’re being honest, the jury is still out,” Loretta said. “Don’t get me wrong, I like you, and if you keep cooking like this, I can see myself hanging out more often. But beyond that? I just don’t know.”

“Fair enough,” Greg said. “I reckon that’s more of a chance than I was hoping for. Y’all don’t mind entertaining guests, do you?”

He glanced towards Archie and Thomas, his eyes wide, pleading. He looked like nothing so much as a basset hound begging for treats, Archie decided. It was pitiful, but kinda cute. 

“Not if it means I get to keep eating like this,” Archie said. “Just don’t wait too long to make a move, Loretta. I’ve decided I’ve taken a liking to your knight in shining armor, and there’s a limit to how noble I’m willing to be. I’m not above sinking my claws in while I’m still pretty if you’re just gonna string him along.”

Loretta smiled sweetly in reply, but it was plain to see that a fire had been lit. Archie had triggered her competitive side. Whether it had been a deliberate effort on his part to get her fired up or a genuine expression of intent, Greg couldn’t say. The only thing he knew for certain was that it spelled trouble.

“Tits or tires, I swear,” Greg muttered, shaking his head. “If one o’ y’all ends up in a wheelchair, I’m fucked.”