When Irde stepped out of her home, things had changed. Technology was leaps ahead of what she knew. Even the phone in her pocket wasn't the one she entered with.
The air was cleaner. The streets were paved with solar panels. The roofs were covered with solar panels. The neighbourhood was prettier. Greener, in more ways than one.
The nearest cellular tower also sported wind turbines.
She had an electric car.
The Djinn had followed her out and whistled backwards. "How much did my old cloth ears muck up?" he muttered.
Bianca, too, was staring, "Someone, somewhere, has lost his miniature piano player and gained some uncomfortable underpants..."
Irde couldn't help laughing. "There's got to be a catch. There has to be. Some snag. Some... hiccup. This is too good to be true."
"Um," said the Djinn. "I did get a lot of wealthy owners who wanted the riches of Croesos. I think, in this now? They all went to prison for stealing them from the museums of the middle-east..."
"How many is a lot?" wondered Irde.
"How many rich bastards does it take to screw up the world?" wondered Bianca.
"Throughout history or just recently?" asked the Djinn.