Deviation

by A. J. Maguire

  He was relieved when they boarded the vessel again and even more relieved when they took off.

  The woman was secured to a stretcher and covered by a trauma blanket for the flight. Matt stared hard at her face, ignoring the general commentary of the Fomorri. There was a mole just under her jaw, a fleck of imperfection in the golden-bronze skin.

  The only imperfection he had seen.

  His fist curled and his mouth tightened as something hard settled in his stomach.

  What in blazes was going on?

  ***

  Hedric hesitated just before her door. Everything he said to her only seemed to make things worse, and now that he thought about it; what was there to say? Kate wasn't Mesa and yet, a part of her was. Not just the physical part either. Zimmerman had done more than just use Kate's body as a backdrop and he could sense it. All that stubborn pride, all that fire she used to fight him, was an echo of the woman he loved.

  Beyond all sense of rationality, Hedric hoped he could draw the Mesa in her out. He had to try.

  With a deep breath, he keyed in the unlock code on the door-side panel. The magnetics hissed in release and he pushed the door open. Kate looked up from her seat near the southern wall and frowned at him. She looked ridiculous in the robes. He thought maybe he'd just gotten used to seeing her out of them, but he knew that wasn't the problem. It was the mulish, barely tolerant expression contorting her face that was the problem.

  Mesa had never begrudged the robes. In fact, on the rare occasion that they'd gone shopping, she had always expressed excitement in purchasing a new set.

  For a moment he regretted coming here. But he was drawn to her, spellbound by the similarities she shared with Mesa, and he knew he couldn't resist. Closing the door behind him, Hedric stepped into the little, egg-shaped room and tried to think of something to say.

  "I'm not Mesa," she said clearly.

  Startled, he caught her gaze and held it. The eyes were wrong, he realized. Kate had olive-green eyes, bordering on hazel, while Mesa's had been deep ocean blue.

  "I know," he said.

  "If you know then why did you take me?"

  "I wasn't after you. I was only sent for Caresse Zimmerman." Hedric moved to the northern wall directly opposite her position and pulled a magnetized crate over. Sitting on it, he sighed and let the admission settle on the woman. His mind replayed the moment he'd first seen Kate. He'd known by the photographs in the apartment that she was not Zimmerman and was just as surprised to see her as she was to see them.

  "So you kidnapped me by mistake?"

  "No. I'd like to excuse it as a fluke but I can't. We both know I took you because you look like my wife."

  "Your dead wife."

  Hedric sucked in a pained breath and frowned at her. Struggling with a spurt of rage, he clenched his fists and concentrated on breathing. Did she have to be so callous about it?

  "Look," Kate said and leaned forward. She seemed to be fighting her own battle against anger because she hissed a breath through her teeth. "I don't know what's going on here. I don't understand why anyone would need to kidnap Reesa and I don't care. I have a six year old son that I need to get back to. You know I'm not Mesa and I never will be. Please, Hedric, just take me home."

  He felt his heart stutter when she said his name. Hope flickered across her face as she gazed at him. The fact that she had a son didn't really register for him, but if she kept looking at him like that he might move planets for her. Forcing himself to look away, Hedric tried to tally the expenses of a return trip through his mother's wormhole. But the realization that it had been some sort of wormhole only put the more bothersome questions back into his mind.

  How had his mother discovered it and why hadn't she presented the information to the Community? What was she planning?

  "My mother believes Zimmerman is some sort of prophet," he said quietly.

  He'd meant it mostly for himself as he puzzled through their situation but he saw Kate tense in response. She snorted an unladylike laugh; "Reesa? She can't pick what she wants for lunch off a menu."

  "And yet, here you are in the year 2998. Seems a bit odd, don't you think?"

  Kate paled and slumped back in her chair. Hedric watched her for a long minute as she battled through her emotions. He almost went to her, instinctively wanting to help her in her distress. She closed her eyes and tears rolled over the curves of her cheeks. Too shocked to move, Hedric stared.

  Mesa never cried.

  "Oh, Quinn," she whispered.

  Quinn, he thought. Her son.

  He hadn't felt guilty about taking her. A small part of him still clung to the hope that reincarnation was real or something, but he'd never been a religious man and didn't really want to be. Faith required action and he had enough to do in a day that he didn't need to bring his immortal soul into the mix.

  "Damn you," he said, getting to his feet. Anger was better than guilt so he held onto it, ignoring the way teary-eyed Kate blinked up at him. "Damn you to hell."

  Stalking to the door, he left her. He didn't stop until he'd made it back to his room.

  ***

  2998, Kate thought, staring at the door where Hedric had just left. Some part of her still wanted to call him the fake Hedric, but she just couldn't. Was time travel really possible? Kate thought Ben might know. Ben was always interested in science and technology. But Ben wasn't here to help her. Her heart ached at the thought.

  God, what if this is the future?

  Quinn and Ben would be long since dead and here she was, still alive and helpless to get home. She could have fought against crazy Lothogy fans, but how was she supposed to fight this? What she remembered of Reesa's books was a dismal world where women were tightly regulated and the exploration of science was revered. There were genetically mutated beasts on Mars and mercenaries and Kate felt altogether small in comparison.

  But if this was the future, how had Reesa been able to write it all?

  Prophets normally worked in a vague sense. Nostradamus might have alluded to the Third Reich, but he certainly never pinpointed Hitler by name. And Biblical prophets were normally sent on the mission of calling God's people back from sin, warning of consequences if their words were not heeded. Kate was certain that they did not write novels full of details about the future.

  And yet, Kate really was sitting on a space ship heading to Mars.

  This is crazy, she thought. I am going crazy.

  Reesa's bag sat slumped on the bed, the faded flower pattern looking strangely out of place. Kate moved to pick it up, still struggling for a sense of coherency. It was crazy to believe she was in the future, but it was even crazier to think she was somehow living inside Reesa's fictional world.

  Holding the damp purse in her hands, Kate determined to choose the lesser of two evils.

  She was really here, in the future. And if the Lothogy had managed to get her here, then it could certainly get her home. It was a long shot, but she might be able to convince Hedric to take her back. If not, Keats was itching to do something.

  Opening the purse, Kate began to search for anything useful. She felt a pang of guilt for invading Reesa's privacy, but at this point it was a matter of survival. They were each of them on their own. As much as Kate loved Reesa, if she had to choose between seeing Quinn again and saving her friend, there was really no contest.

  Reesa would understand.

  Check book. Bubble gum. A Bic pen. One remaining 3x5 card.

  Kate took the pen, pausing as the words on the 3x5 card came into view. Underlined and highlighted they seemed to bark at her; Patient Zero.

  The hair on her arms went stiff, her mind flipping back to that moment in the boat. The moment she had seen Reesa's face pinch with utter, lost focus, as though she were stuck in two worlds, she thought again.

  "Oh, Reesa," she murmured into the empty room. "What have you done?"

  *

  "Eden II announced its successful landing on Mars. The group of twelve scientists
is to be the first long-term human inhabitants on the planet since the cultivation project began." - A.P. January 3, 2264

  Chapter Twelve

  "Where is your husband?" Borden asked her from across the room.

  Reesa flinched. When she'd ditched the robes in the swamp she'd only been thinking of the hindrance it was to her survival at the time. Now, however, staring at the nemesis of her books, those stupid robes were the only thing in the world she wanted back. Dark blue eyes roved across her form, searching for her personal disfigurement. It was a pity hers could not be seen in the physical form.

  If she had to guess, she would have assumed they were on the Balor VII, in Borden's private meeting room, hovering over Earth. It certainly looked like Earth through the window. Clear blue and white and beautiful, she thought. The idea of being in space really should have perturbed her more than it did, but Reesa could only muster a curious and distant sort of feeling for the revelation.

  "I no longer have one," she said. Which was the truth, in a roundabout sort of way. She had almost been married once, after all. And Matthew Borden wouldn't understand the concept of an unmarried couple living together. In the world she'd created there was no room for such familiarities between men and women.

  "Then where, Madame, are your robes?"

  "I lost them in the swamp."

  He took slow, even strides toward her. Then he diverted to make a circle around her, searching still for some glint of robotic in her skin. It was funny the way life worked sometimes. If she'd just decided to stay in and write she would have been abducted while wearing sweat pants and a breathable top. But no, she'd gone sailing. Thus every inch of her legs were exposed, from the hem of her khaki shorts to the base of her ankles. Her tank-top hid very little, and Matthew Borden was not someone who missed details.

  She resisted the urge to squirm, hoping the swamp mud that still clung to her skin might add a small amount of mystery to her form. It was a vain hope. She knew that the moment he stopped in front of her and took her chin in his thumb and forefinger. First he turned her head to the left, then to the right, and with considerable surprise written on his features, he turned her to look him straight in the face.

  "Good god," he said. "Who are you?"

  Reesa kept her gaze on his face and tried not to flinch again. She should not have written Matthew Borden to look like Jake. It was hard to distinguish the two in her mind, hard to guess at what he might be thinking. What she knew of Jake Mersin was all surface information; a good man shrouded with complication. Matthew Borden was the same, or at least she thought. He was a good man hidden under the ruthlessness of his own business.

  "Let's start with your name," Borden gestured toward a large, maroon colored chair.

  Reesa moved to sit in it, feeling absolutely naked without the robes and doing a mental scramble to determine what to say. He would undoubtedly have a team of researchers study her name. She wondered for a moment if any information would exist in this timeline. When the Mavirus took out all of the women the world broke into war. Cities, states, nations were blown away as men attempted to gain control of the last surviving females. Information was fragmented, lost, thrown into obscurity as the desperate hunt for survival began. Technology took a back seat to making certain people were fed, which led to a regression from the sleek, pretty styles of her native time period. When she'd been writing, she'd done it all on purpose, wanting to put rust on top of what the world at large considered new and exciting.

  "Caresse Zimmerman," she said at last. "But friends call me Reesa Zimms."

  "Miss Zimms," Borden sat in the chair across from her. His lean, capable form relaxed against the maroon upholstery and he flashed a lazy smile. "My name is ... "

  "Matthew Borden. Yes, I know."

  "Ah, so Hedric has told you about me."

  She watched him for a moment and tried to decide how much information was too much. This was, in some aspects, a familiar struggle for her. As though she were writing again, feeding plot bits into a scene, creating tension and suspense and a reason for her readers to keep reading.

  Only she wasn't writing and she knew it.

  Matthew Borden sat across from her, real flesh and blood, suave and handsome in that overwhelming way that made her heart ache. Jake had caused a similar reaction in her, she remembered. From the moment she'd met Jake there had been a palpable attraction. One she knew he reciprocated but never allowed to come to fruition. Not even when she'd held his bleeding shoulder as they waited for the paramedics.

  Her mind rebuilt that day vividly; the beige carpet and polite people surrounding the autographing table. But mostly she just saw the gun, black and cold in the feminine hand holding it.

  "There won't be another book," Tattoo had said.

  She didn't have a hard time believing the woman now. Either she had gone super-nova crazy and was rocking herself back and forth in an institute somewhere, or this was real. And if this was real and Tattoo was telling the truth, the odds were that Reesa would never get home. Her heart pinched at the thought of Kate, still at the mercy of Hedric. She could remember the way Kate had looked at her, standing on that pier in the early morning, tired and scared and too stubborn to go home.

  Kate didn't deserve this. Kate was a good mother, a happy wife. Her only failing was being friends with Reesa. Somehow, some way, Reesa had to get Kate home.

  Taking a slow, deep breath, Reesa brought her attention back to Matthew Borden. Her hero had abandoned her on Oahu, threatened her life and kidnapped her best friend. If she played things right, it was just possible that her villain could save the day.

  "I know everything there is to know about you, Matthew. But I did not learn it from Hedric Prosser."

  "An interesting statement. Do you care to elaborate?"

  Reesa gripped the armrests of her chair and nodded. "I know that your great-great grandfather built the Borden Company. That you strive every day to see its continued success out of some automatic compulsion you've never cared to define."

  She saw his eyebrow hike upward but he made no other movement or sign of shock. Reesa knew it was going to take more than history to convince this man of who she was and where she came from. She had to get to his heart, his core, his motivations. She had to share things that he had never uttered out loud.

  "Most of that can be found in a database somewhere," he watched her closely. "The other could be speculation."

  "You love the ocean," Reesa countered. "The beach at Scotland Bay because you remember your father best there. Everywhere else he was Borden, business man and somewhat tyrannical but on the beach he was someone else. Someone human. On the beach he was just your father."

  "That could also be speculation," Matthew shifted in his chair. There was a cautious curiosity in his features that gave her some hope. "It was no secret that Jason Borden took weekly walks on the beach at Scotland Bay."

  Feeling slightly defeated, Reesa tried another tactic. The true defining factor of Matthew Borden wasn't his father, she realized. The last scene she had written about Matthew was a memory of the day his father had taken him away from his mother. Jason Borden was angry with David for choosing science over the family business and thought Carmine Borden was to blame. Carmine Borden was neither Makeem nor Novo Femina, she was a Christian, and she had instilled in both her children the strength and willpower to choose their own path in life.

  But how much of that could Reesa safely say out loud? Just the discussion of another religion could earn the Borden family a considerable amount of scorn.

  "How is your mother?" Reesa finally asked.

  Matthew's entire body tensed and she could see a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

  Bingo, she thought.

  They stared at each other in silence. He couldn't believe her, but he couldn't discount her, either. She had trouble keeping her heart at a steady pace. She'd written him completely wrong. Matthew Borden was a driven, focused man, but he had a purpose behind it. He had been eight years ol
d when his father took him away. From that moment on, Matthew had been groomed to place the company first and the family second. "Have you ever done something just for yourself?" She asked him.

  "I beg your pardon?" She had taken him off guard, she could hear it in his voice.

  "Everything you do is for your family or the company," Reesa said, though she was mostly musing out loud, her mind capturing all of those scenes she had written incorrectly about him. "Even training with the Fomorri is a business strategy because the Scientists you bargain with are intimidated by you."

  "I walk the beach when I am home."

  "That is more a homage to your father, I think," she frowned at him. "You live only to work the business for your family. You must be so lonely."

  "Speculation again."

  "But is it true?"

  He frowned back at her, "Does it matter?"

  Reesa took another breath and looked at the window. "My name really is Reesa Zimms," she said at last. "I am an author. A science fiction novelist best known for the Lothogy Series."

  "A novelist. So you are saying that you created all of this?" He asked slowly.

  "Yes. And no. Sort of." Reesa shook her head at the amusement in his face.

  How was she supposed to convince this man that he was a work of fiction? Could she really believe they were in fiction? Wasn't it more likely that she had been taken through some kind of time-travel? She hadn't written about time-travel before but she knew there was some kind of link with the space-time continuum. In truth, she'd avoided that plot-trap because it was used so often. And yet, here she was, fully aware of her surroundings and obviously not in Kansas anymore.