Skyler's attention is focused less on Vance or her immediate surroundings than on the rear roof of the RV, where familiar-looking equipment pokes up; telltale lights betray the presence of their time-travel device. As an engineer who evidently knows her way around a time machine, Skyler must be the one who figured out the trick in arriving this morning.
Then it hits you. "Vance didn't even build his own time machine," you whisper to Brett. "No way. That top one-percenter wouldn't dream of putting in any real work. Don't you see? After he stole my notes and schematics, he co-opted Skyler. That's who converted his RV into a time machine."
"Figures." Brett gives you a look filled with sympathy. "We'll find a way to…" She trails off into uncertainty.
"Bravo!" comes another shout as the RV's back side door swings open. It's Casey, the paleontology grad student who had impressed you. With the stems of three champagne flutes held between the fingers of one hand, Casey's gaze slowly sweeps all around, forcing you to duck back behind the ginkgo. Casey is: