The light and noise subsided.  Christine slowly opened her eyes and took in the sights around her.  She realized that she was still in the dark dusty room she last remembered entering.  But now it was immaculately clean, and the walls glowed with a white luminescence.  While the console she had fallen against now glittered with myriad colors, giving off a faint tinkling sound. 

     Why had the room changed? She could not understand. 

     She put her ear to the door she had entered through.  There was no sound from outside.  No indication that The Iron Man was still outside grappling with Lucious Rhoades.  Perhaps she had been unconscious for some time and the fight was long over. 

     "Who won?" she wondered. 

     Slowly she opened the door and peered out.  The hallway was as changed as the console room.  Not a speck of dust anywhere, and small light fixtures lined the walls, all turned on and providing a dim, but adequate light. 

     Sensing no danger, Christine ventured out into the hall, and then started trying to find her way to some part of the house that was familiar to her. 

     She walked for a long time before turning into a corridor she thought she recognized, but it too was changed.  The entire house felt different.  She could not sense the ghosts that had haunted her all her life.  It was as if they had all gone, or had never been. 

     When she came to The Hall Of Portraits she could not fathom what she saw.  The portraits of all her ancestors were gone - replaced by what Christine thought must be pictures of anthropomorphic cartoon characters.  Though she did not recognize them from any cartoons she had ever seen. 

     Also she noticed the uncanny realism of the artwork.  They looked more like photographs than cartoons.  So she reasoned that this must be the work of some very skilled computer artist.  But even so, why was this artwork hanging in The Hall Of Portraits?

     When she came to a window Christine looked out and was astonished to see that the woods which had always surrounded the house were gone, along with the ever present haze of smog from the nearby city.  There was now a street outside the house, and what seemed to be a suburban town setting. 

     Strange looking automobiles lined the street - all makes and models that seemed totally alien to her planet, yet still reminiscent of the styles that were popular in the post World War 2 era.  And as she looked on, she could have sworn she saw a racoonish looking creature get into one and drive away. 

     "This is a dream.  It has to be," she thought. 

     As she approached the dining room, Christine heard voices speaking leisurely in what seemed to be her own language.  But they were not familiar voices. 

     Peering cautiously into the dining room so as to observe without announcing her presence, Christine observed a small family of anthropomorphic canines having a leisurely breakfast while an apron clad anthropomorphic panda served them.  And Christine noted that, were it not for the fact that these were obviously alien creatures, this would have seemed like a scene from some post war sit-com she had seen while growing up.  The ideal Polithsanian family living the Polithsanian post war dream. 

     "What beautiful creatures," she thought, momentarily forgetting to be afraid in the midst of her awe. 

     Were it not for the fact that they had fur, tails, muzzles and long floppy ears, the little family would have seemed quite human.  They were the proper size for humans, they had hands with 5 digits, including an opposable thumb.  They also had human hair. 

     They did not look at all like any comical cartoon hybrids she had seen.  Their animal characteristics complimented their human physiognomy in flawlessly natural and beautiful ways. 

     Christine knew she had been prone to dreams like this when she was a child.  Though she could not remember them.  They were sealed away along with all the other memories of her first 15 years.  But during the 20 years that she could remember she had never once wished to dream of funny animals.  Why was she dreaming this now, she wondered.  And why did it seem so much more real than a dream?

     Christine studied the 4 canines.  The elder female she took to be the mother.  She greatly resembled a buff colored cocker spaniel, having a somewhat elegant appearance, though the tone of her voice was just a bit rustic. 

     The elder male she took to be the father.  He too was some kind of spaniel dog, his fur varying between black and white.  He spoke with an Elysian accent even thicker and more dignified than her grandfather's - a very elegant creature indeed. 

     As she watched him reading his newspaper through his spectacles like a typical TV father, she wondered who fetched the paper for the dog?

     The two younger canines, a male and a female, seemed to take after their father, as far as their coloration went.  But their voices and mannerisms were nowhere near as dignified as those of their parents.  They seemed more like youthful, playful Polithsanians - not unlike many high school and college aged students Christine had known. 

     The panda, she noticed, was mostly white, and much more trim looking than Christine would have expected.  She seemed a very dutiful servant.  And the four canines obviously regarded her as a member of the family. 

     They all seemed so very comfortable in their suburban home. 

     "Their suburban home?" puzzled Christine. 

     Was this not her house? Why were these canines acting as if they owned it? And where was her family?

     Suddenly, to Christine's shock, the father looked in her direction and seemed to be scenting the air. 

     "Pamela," he said leisurely to the panda, directing her attention to the doorway where Christine was hiding.  "It seems we have a guest.  Would you mind inviting her to breakfast?"

     Christine panicked.  What did he mean by that? Would these people be kind to her? Or did he mean to have her for breakfast, literally?

     Before Christine even had time to contemplate this, she found herself face to face with the panda.  And though the panda did not seem outwardly threatening, Christine was seized with dread and uncertainty.  And as she fruitlessly fumbled for some way to explain her presence, she became overwhelmed and fainted. 

     "Sir Jon," called the panda.  "I think we have a problem.  You'd better have a look at this."

     The father quickly folded his newspaper and hurried to see what had happened, followed by the mother and the two siblings. 

     "My word," said Sir Jon, examining Christine's unconscious form through his reading glasses.  "I do believe it's a human.  It's been a long time since I've seen one of those."

     "Is she really a pure human?" asked the younger male. 

     "Put your tongue back in your mouth before you bite it," said his sister, sarcastically. 

     "Tsk, tsk," said the panda.  "Look at those shameful clothes."

     "Yeah, they are pretty hot, aren't they," said the young male, in a lustful tone. 

     "Um, Perry," said the girl, "Maybe you should think about what she's doing here before you think about yiffing her."

     "Now, now, Lorri," said Sir Jon, in his calm, elegant pseudo-British accent.  "No need to be hard on your brother.  It's a perfectly natural reaction for a healthy lad of his age."

     Sir Jon made a cursory examination of Christine's clothing and was soon curiously examining something he'd found in one of her pockets. 

     "What did you find?" asked the mother. 

     "It's a wallet," said Sir Jon.  "This should give us some idea who she is."

     Sir Jon continued examining Christine's wallet - his attention being immediately drawn to her Polithsanian driver's license. 

     "My, my," said Sir Jon.  "Aren't you a long way from home?"

     Then he turned to his wife and said, "Sonny, I think you should prepare a guest room for our visitor.  I expect she'll be with us for a while."

     "Are you sure, Dad?" asked the younger female.  "Alien humans are our enemies, aren't they? And why would she sneak into our house if she wasn't up to no good?"

     "Trust me, Lorri," said Sir Jon.  "I have a sense about these things.  If she were an enemy I'd know it."

     Then Sir Jon turned to his wife and said, "Sonny, have a look at this driver's license.  Tell me if it means anything to you."

     "It's Polithsanian," said Sonny, examining the small card with the stranger's picture on it.  "She must be a time traveler.  That world was destroyed 100,000 years ago.  And her name is Christine James?"

     "Sonny," said Sir Jon, in a puzzled tone.  "Did we ever know a Christine James?"

     "I guess it does ring a bell in the back of my mind," said Sonny.  "But it was so long ago.  I can't remember."

     "I don't remember very well myself, " said Sir Jon.  "But I feel certain that she is a friend, and that she is not here to harm us.  Children, I want you to think of this girl as a long lost cousin.  And try to be kind to her, no matter how strange she may seem."

     "I don't have a problem with that," said Perry, enthusiastically. 

     "Oh please," said Lorri, tossing her brother's ear playfully.  "Well, I'm sorry I can't hang around to see if Perry makes the score of the century, but I've got to get to the airport and catch my plane.  I trust you will call me if she turns out to be trouble."

     "Of course, dear," said Sonny.  "Now you run along and don't think anymore about this.  Just concentrate on your concert tour."

     "Will do, Mom," said Lorri, grabbing one last slice of toast off the breakfast table on her way out the door.  "See ya 'round, lover boy."

     "Luv ya, sis," said Perry. 

     And with a final wave Lorri exited the house, got into a car which was already stuffed with musical instruments and traveling necessities, and drove away. 

     "Sonny, I think I'll take her up to our bedroom and lay her out," said Sir Jon.  "We can move her into a guest room later."

     "Can I help, Dad?" asked Perry, eagerly. 

     "No, son," said Sir Jon with a smile.  "I can handle things for now.  But don't worry, I'm sure you'll get to spend lots of time with her."

     Christine awakened to find herself lying on a rather fancy old fashioned bed.  It felt quite comfortable and luxurious.  Yet it was not a bed she recognized. 

     And as she looked around at the room she realized she hadn't seen it before either, though it appeared to be in the architectural style of the rooms in her home. 

     She remembered what she had seen.  Had it been just a dream? Was she still dreaming? She felt very insecure and afraid. 

     "Rael!" she called out.  "Rael, where are you? I need you.  Come to me."

     A moment later the door opened, and in stepped the elder canine she had seen in the dining room. 

     Christine was obviously terrified. 

     "Now, now, dear," said Sir Jon, in a reassuring tone.  "Calm yourself.  No harm will come to you here."

     "Where am I?" cried Christine, desperately.  "What's happening to me?"

     "Well, those are very good questions," said Sir Jon, calmly.  "I wish I could say I have good answers for you.  But I'm afraid your appearance here is just as much a mystery to me.  Perhaps, if you'll tell me what you remember of how you came here, we can figure something out."

     "You really won't hurt me?" she asked, pleadingly.  "Can I really trust you?"

     "You are Christine James, are you not?" asked Sir Jon. 

     "Yes," said Christine, surprised. 

     "Perhaps if I introduce myself you will feel more at ease.  In your world I was known as Jonathan Livingston Tadashika-Ommandeer," said Sir Jon with a polite bow.  "But in this world I am known simply as Sir Jonathan Rhoades."

     "Are you trying to tell me you're Rael's brother?" asked Christine. 

     "Rael," sighed Sir Jon.  "I have been parted from my brother for more centuries than I can count.  Alas, I can only just barely remember him.  And my memories of you are even more obscured.  But I do remember your name, and that you were Rael's friend."

     "You don't remember anything else about me?" asked Christine. 

     "I wish I could," said Sir Jon.  "But it was such a long, long time ago."

     "Then this is some kind of time slip?" Christine rationalized breathlessly.  "I'm in the future?"

     "Christine, you have been flung so far into the future that I doubt any measurement of time I could offer would help you grasp the reality of it," said Sir Jon. 

     "So far into the future that the human race is gone?" asked Christine.  "Replaced by a race of animal hybrids?"

     "Oh, no," said Sir Jon.  "Humans like yourself still exist.  Just not on this particular planet.  You see, you were not only displaced in time, but in space as well.  This is not the planet Chikyu.  This planet is called Cygnus."

     "And the planet Cygnus is ruled by dogs who have pandas for slaves?" asked Christine. 

     Sir Jon laughed out loud.  It was a jolly, friendly laugh that reminded Christine of her grandfather, and thus helped set her more at ease. 

     "Pamela is not a slave," said Sir Jon.  "She's just my house keeper.  And this is hardly a planet ruled by dogs.  We are, as you said, a race of hybrids.  Our shapes are infinitely varied.  And there is no dominant breed within our species."

     "Forgive me for saying this," said Christine.  "I'm not an expert on life throughout the galaxy, but that doesn't sound quite natural."

     "You're quite right," said Sir Jon.  "This unique species and its civilization are the end result of genetic warfare.  The elder race of humans that once dominated this planet destroyed all animal life with their genetic weapons.  The entire genetic make-up of the planet was reduced to a multi-colored slag - out of which a single new species evolved.

     "The main structure of that species is dominated by human characteristics, because the humans were the most populous animal species melted into the slag.  But there is no longer any pure human DNA.  It is all mixed with the DNA of other animal species to lesser or greater extents.  The result being a species that finds it difficult to embrace ideas like prejudice based on appearance, because nobody looks the same."

     "Well that must be nice," said Christine, her curiosity beginning to overwhelm her fear.  "But before you tell me more about this planet, can you help me understand what's going on with our names? How did Jonathan Ommandeer acquire my family's name?"

     "I beg your pardon?" said Sir Jon. 

     "Rhoades was my mother's maiden name," said Christine. 

     "Oh dear.  That's a very interesting philosophical conundrum, isn't it?" said Sir Jon.  "You see, when I came to this planet with my life mate, Sonny, we decided that we would settle here and end our travels."

     "Then you must have become a Time Captain," Christine supposed. 

     "Indeed," said Sir Jon.  "I am not only a Time Captain, but I am also the last Time Captain.  You see, this planet sits at the very edge of our universe, both spatially and temporally.  You have literally traveled to the very end of time.

     "This just seemed a natural place to come when there were no more missions - no more need for Time Captains.  So Sonny and I decided to settle down here and do the one thing we'd never been able to do in all our millennia of traveling - live a normal life.  And, in making our arrangements to do this, we decided we needed a new family name.  Rhoades popped into my head, and Sonny had no objection to it.  So we became the family Rhoades."

     "Do you suppose you thought of it because you knew me in the past?" asked Christine. 

     "No," said Sir Jon.  "I liked that name because it was my brother's middle name."

     "Rael's middle name really is Rhoades?" asked Christine, astonished. 

     "Our mother named him Raelian Rhoades Tadashika-Ommandeer," Sir Jon explained.  "She told us that Rael was named after a traveler who had been a friend of her brother, Shane.  But this traveler was hardly ever discussed.  So I know next to nothing about him."

     "But when Rael came to live with my family he assumed the name Rhoades to make it easier to live among humans," said Christine.  "Why did he let us think it was an assumed name?"

     "I can only conjecture that he must have feared some temporal anomaly that might have been dangerous to you if you knew too much," said Sir Jon.  "You know, it's entirely possible that you haven't gone into the future at all, but rather into the past.  You might actually be my grand child, several thousand generations down the road."

     "Oh," sighed Christine, putting her hand to her forehead.  "Going into the future which is somehow my past.  The very concept gives me a headache."

     "Well, there you are," said Sir Jon.  "That's wat happens when you delve into things you're not meant to understand.  And no good can come to you by trying to fathom the totality of it.  I think you should stop trying.  Just accept that somehow in the grand scheme of things you and I are related.  Thus you are among family and perfectly safe."

     "I suppose that's good advice," said Christine.  "But there is one more obvious question I just have to ask."

     "Go ahead then," said Sir Jon, patiently. 

     "What is my house doing on another planet?" she exclaimed. 

     "Oh?" said Sir Jon, with a knowing air.  "This is your house, is it?"

     "Yes," said Christine.  "I mean, it's newer and cleaner, but I know my house."

     "Christine," said Sir Jon.  "Do you know what this house is?"

     "It's a really weird house that's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside," said Christine. 

     "I'm sure Rael must have noticed that when he came to live with you," said Sir Jon.  "Did he ever offer you any theories as to why that should be?"

     "He said the house was dimensionally transcendental, like the time ship he traveled in with you… and… Oh . . . my . . . Ra.  This is your Sound Chaser, isn't it?"

     "My travels were over," said Sir Jon.  "I had no more need of a time ship.  But I did have need of a house.  However, it's hardly been 25 years since I designed the house and overlaid it as the Sound Chaser's facade.  If you lived in this house, it must have been in the future."

     Christine clutched her chest and let out a muffled cry of awe and fear.  Then she stared blankly in front of her, unable to speak. 

     "Now, now, don't be frightened," said Sir Jon, soothingly.  "There's nothing to be afraid of.  It's only time playing one of its amusing little jokes on you.  Here's a little bit of advice that might help.  When these strange concepts begin to overwhelm you, don't look backwards or from side to side.  Focus on where you are at the moment and just proceed purposefully into the future from there."

     "You're saying I shouldn't think about things like how in the galaxy am I ever going to get home again?" said Christine. 

     "There's no need for you to be in a hurry to go home," Sir Jon explained.  "The time stream you left is frozen.  It's not moving on without you.  At the end of your adventure here, you will be returned to it, and nothing will have changed, except that you will perhaps be a bit more experienced."

     "But I don't understand," said Christine.  "How did I get here in the first place?"

     "What's the last thing you remember before you found yourself here?" asked Sir Jon. 

     "I was running away from someone who wanted to kill me," said Christine.  "I went into a room I'd never seen before to hide.  It was dark and dusty, like it hadn't been used for ages.  I tripped over something on the floor, and I caught myself on some kind of big console in the middle of the room.  Next thing I knew everything went white and I passed out.  When I woke up I was here."

     "So you found the console room," said Sir Jon, thoughtfully.  "You shouldn't have been able to do that.  Rocinantè must have deliberately revealed it to you.  Perhaps she needed to transport you somewhere to save you from who ever was after you."

     "Oh," Christine sobbed.  "Someone's always trying to kill me.  I'm not even safe in my own house anymore."

     "Well, you're perfectly safe now, my dear," said Sir Jon.  "No enemy from your past or future can reach you here.  But you still look very tired and stressed.  Why don't you lie back and rest a while longer.  Know that you're safe in my protection, and dream peaceful dreams of the new security you've found.  Then, when you wake and you're ready to join us, please make yourself at home.  After all, Christine, whether you understand it or not, you are home."