"That's better."
Laniq looked around, saw no one. She finally managed to fasten the zipper. She sat there, staring. "Well, where are you?"
Silence.
She was on the point of getting up and looking around despite the warning, when the conveyor door opened. She stared, mouth agape. A man entered the conveyor, nodded curtly at her and said, "Stay put." He waved an atomic pistol for emphasis, and since he had just come from outside and no anachronistic weapons were permitted outside conveyors, he was either a Century Agent or one of the monopolist's men.
Either way, Laniq was raging. He had fooled her with an obvious trick. Not wanting to be taken by surprise himself, he had merely planted an amplifier in her conveyor, waited till she entered, then addressed her from the safety of his own craft. He hadn't entered her conveyor until he was reasonably certain she would listen to him.
"Where are we going?" Laniq demanded as he set the controls, his back to her.
"Home to our own time," he said, and turned to face her.
With despair, she recognized the man she had struck in the dead Agent's apartment.
"Wait. Please." Laniq pleaded.