Carmen lifted the hourglass hanging from her waist, clear cut crystal in a housing of orichalcum. Varihued sands ran up and down through the neck as she watched, a riot of color until they settled into layered arrangements in the top and bottom bulbs. Years of training translated the dozens of colors instantly: a time the locals called 1974, August 30, 10:02am, located at 17°55'42.3"N 66°09'34.9"W. She smiled.

She stood on a spit of sandy rock in the midst of a wild sea. To the south and east, the sky was as dark as it had been four hours earlier. Clouds hanging low above her churned so fast Carmen could almost believe they were human-made, sheets of undyed wool whipped into a frenzy by mischievous youths.

Craning her neck until it cracked, Carmen unlimbered a bow of silvery wood, testing the pull. She unsheathed two long, curved knives in turn and checked their edges with her thumb. Satisfied, she rearranged the sheathes on the front of her chest for easy access.

She stood at her full five-foot-two height and stared into the storm, already pummeling her with fifty mile-per-hour winds, and drew her first arrow.