They were headed back toward what should have been the boulevard. The
car zoomed through a cloverleaf turn and up onto a broad freeway. Jeff
knew for certain there was no freeway there in 1957--nor in any earlier
year. But on the horizon, he could see the familiar dark bulk of the
mountains. The whole line of moonlit ridges was the same as always.
"Ann," he said slowly, "I think this is for real. Somehow I guess we
escaped from 1957. We've been transported in time."
She squeezed his arm. "If I'm dreaming, don't wake me! I was scared a
minute ago. But now, oh, boy!"
"Likewise. But I still wonder what Snader's angle is." He leaned
forward and tapped the driver on his meaty shoulder. "You brought us
into the future instead of the past, didn't you?"
It was hard to know whether Snader was sleepy or just bored, but he
shrugged briefly to show there was no reply coming. Then he yawned.
Jeff smiled tightly. "I guess we'll find out in good time. Let's sit
back and enjoy the strangest ride of our lives."
As the limousine swept along through the traffic, there were plenty
of big signs for turn-offs, but none gave any hint where they were.
The names were unfamiliar. Even the language seemed grotesque. "Rite
Channel for Creepers," he read. "Yaw for Torrey Rushway" flared at him
from a fork in the freeway.
"This can't be the future," Ann said. "This limousine is almost new,
but it doesn't even have an automatic gear shift--"
She broke off as the car shot down a ramp off the freeway and pulled up
in front of an apartment house. Just beyond was a big shopping center,
ablaze with lights and swarming with shoppers. Jeff did not recognize
it, in spite of his familiarity with the city.
Snader bounded out, pulled open the rear door and jerked his head in a
commanding gesture. But Jeff did not get out. He told Snader, "Let's
have some answers before we go any further."