I woke from my transition to this world, my “versing out”, damp all over and my face wet from misting rain. Overhead, the sky was overcast, and the small town streets were empty. I identified tarvey on the roads, and brilliant large street lights so I was in the twentieth century again. Ever since I trained with the tightrope walkers in Olde England, I had little problem with any burst of clumsiness, and so I was surprised to slip and fall, and gash my elbow.



A bandage from my luggage, and a winter parka solved my most immediate problems. Shelter from the rain, and the cold which seemed to bite into me strangely sent me traipsing down some short blocks with thoughtful benches provided at every corner. If it hadn’t been raining, I might have used one, because I was feeling a bit fuzzy.



I rarely catch cold, but when I cannot beat it off, why then it is a real trial.



The paper stand which is the best friend of all multi-dimensional travellers revealed the month and city and century. August, New York City, and 2612 AD.



Incredulous I stared around from underneath a sheltering green awning, and saw a small town atmosphere, and nothing more. Several blocks further, a short walk all told, I came to a hotel with a obvious restauraunt.



Upon entering, a good quarter of the residents of the lobby descended on me en masse. Inquiries after my health, and did I need immediate medical attention, were followed by speculation about the lack of wits, or any common decency I had in opening a door in a rainstorm.



The people were human, but a singularly unpromising breed. Thin, short, clumsy, acne-infested, and if every one of them was not suffering some version of flu, cough, cold, or something else, then it can only be because I did not look very hard.



When I began to suffer cold symptoms, they nodded their heads spitefully, and ushered me to a vending machine in the corner of the room. All the corners were so occupied. I took a drug, and within minutes, I felt wonderful.



While talking to an intelligent if wheezing and occasionally vomitous gentleman about their society which was remarkably similar to ours except what we would be like if most people had a cold most of the time, I asked a few questions. A twenty hour work week was considered a killing pace, and wars were not held in winter. It was simply not done. Politics was more liberal. Ill temper in a small way was more common. Then the front door crahed open, and stayed that way.



It hung off its hinges, and the once well-crafted doorway framed a hulking treaded robot. The gleaming metal and dripping water drew the eye.



“You took away my daily nurse check-up! You said a stupid ‘bot could handle it! I’m working alone supervising the factory ‘bots, and you want to save costs by cutting my needed nurse visit! I’ll show you.” The tele-controlled robot went about smashing windows.



I tried to talk to it, but no response. So, despite feeling a little weak, we managed to trick it, and then get it tipped over.



The terrified crowd headed toward the kitchen to huddle in front of the stoves, and wait out the storm. I heard more shouts outside, and figured that this was going on over the whole town.



When I purposed to leave, and go to the factory, the crowd called me mad. But I felt good, and the temperature was in the fifties outside.



I braved the mist, and giggled to myself once I got clear of the hotel. The locals might have a problem, but I was a verser, and from a dimension where they were hardier than around here.



I dealt with several robots, and then as I caught sight of the factory’s radio antennas I waded into my most desperate fight against five robots. My meds just stopped cold. Suddenly I was under the weather in a bad way. I’d like to say this story ends with a happy ending, but you would not believe me if I told you that. At least I got to sneeze into the faceplate of the one who got me. Ah-ah-ahchoo!



Tadeusz