Romani Armada (Beloved Bloody Time)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  * * * * *

  Adán caught a glimpse of a dark, cold room with rough stone walls and people – lots of them – before Pritti’s voice slammed into his mind with the intensity of a shout.

  Behind you!

  He felt his body being turned to face the danger and snapped his arm down to activate the spring sheath. The knife dropped into his grip and he bought his arm up in a fast arc.

  It was perfect timing. A human would have driven themselves onto the point of his knife and with a hard thrust he could push the knife up into the chest cavity and tear the heart apart.

  That didn’t happen this time. His attacker was suddenly there, inside his guard. The weapon, something cold and hard, slammed into his abdomen with the impact of a double fist.

  He coughed, as the air was pushed out of his lungs. Breathe. Just breathe, he told himself, but he couldn’t get his lungs to work.

  “They’re teleporting!” Rhydder cried, then gave a grunt of effort. “They’re jumping to keep their movements random and unpredictable.”

  God above, this hurts, Adán thought.

  Get Jack, Adán. You have to get the baby. See, over there? By the wall.

  Somehow, Adán found himself standing up straight. The psi who had attacked him lay at his feet. He had no idea how the man had been taken down, but he lay still, with his eyes staring up sightlessly.

  Adán cocked his left wrist to let the second blade drop into his hand. The pain had moved away, into the distance. He knew it was there, but it wasn’t debilitating.

  I’ll watch your back, Pritti whispered in his mind. Get the baby, Adán.

  “Adán, over there! Right in front of you!” Rhydder called. “Get Jack!”

  Adán blinked, pulling his vision together so he could focus. At the far back of the dingy, smelly room, a woman stood in front of a hammock made of a strip of cloth hung from the low ceiling. The center of the hammock was engorged with the weight of a body. The baby was wriggling. Possibly, he was crying, too. Adán couldn’t hear much over the screaming and yelling the psi-filers were doing. There were at least twenty of them between Jack and him.

  But he could hear Pritti just fine. Go, Adán. Go now.

  Somehow, he found the energy and the strength to take a step forward. It took everything he had to pull his weight forward onto the other foot and stay upright. He gave the knives in his hands a heft, feeling their weight, and studied the psi-filers moving toward him, their expressions blank, their teeth bared.

  And now, he could hear Jack screaming.

  * * * * *

  Old Jewish Cemetery, Staré Město (Old Town), Prague, Czech Republic, 2264 A.D.: As soon as Rhydder and Santiago disappeared, Kieren whirled to pick up his gun.

  It was gone.

  “...fuck,” he breathed and looked over his shoulder at the frozen Consuela. Pritti’s mental shield was gone. She had shifted her attention to help Rhydder, which was as it should be.

  Consuela stirred, her hands lowering.

  Kieren felt his lips drawing back from his teeth as he stood facing her. As her hands fell to her sides, he lifted his and leapt at her. “Deal with this, you motherfucker!” he cried.

  * * * * *

  Pritti was doing more than guarding his back. Adán could feel her strength in his arms, guiding his blades so they were in the right place just at the right time. Her energy flowed through him each time he sagged or staggered, making him thrust his foot out to keep himself upright.

  Then the torrent of psi-filers checked and halted. Adán watched as some of them blinked, as if they were waking from sleep.

  “Holy fuck,” Rhydder breathed, from right behind Adán’s back. “He’s controlling them.”

  “He was controlling them. He’s not right now,” Adán said. His voice was croaky.

  Rhydder pushed on the back of his shoulder. “Let’s move. Now. Before he comes back to them.”

  Silvered, hot adrenaline, like he had not felt in centuries, poured through him, jump starting his heart and bringing a smile to his mouth. “Regla de los vampiros!” Adán cried and leapt forward, with only the smallest twinge to his gut.

  * * * * *

  Old Jewish Cemetery, Staré Město (Old Town), Prague, Czech Republic, 2264 A.D.: Kieren didn’t know who he was fighting. It might have been Gabriel, or Consuelo. If it was her, she was a powerful psi-filer. Even with his hands around her neck, she was battering at his mind and body with psychic barbs, weakening him with each passing second.

  Her black eyes caught his gaze. “Freak!” she hissed.

  Shock made his hands loosen. Hers came up to break his hold.

  No! Pritti’s cry was wild and strident.

  Consuela looked up, over Keiren’s shoulder, like she had heard it, too. Perhaps she had.

  Kieren watched his own hands tighten around her neck, holding her despite her bulldozer-strength struggling. He continued to watch as his hands shifted their grip, moving to capture the woman’s chin, preparing to wrench...

  “No!” he protested, but no sound emerged from his mouth.

  Pritti broke the woman’s neck with one hard, unforgiving snap of force.

  Kieren watched the life fade from her eyes and let the body drop.

  * * * * *

  The woman shielding the hammock was the most animated one in the room. She leapt upon them with a cry that sent a shudder through Adán. But Rhydder was abruptly there at his side. He dropped the bloody dirk he had been using and reached into his jacket.

  Too late, Adán realized as the woman leapt.

  The sound of the gun firing was loud and shocking, coming from right next to him so unexpectedly.

  The woman dropped to the ground and lay face down and very still. Her back was not just bloody and gaping...it wasn’t there at all.

  Adán swallowed.

  “She wasn’t animated,” Rhydder said. “She was fighting all on her own.”

  “She was protecting the baby,” Adán replied.

  “Get Jack,” Rhydder said, slapping at the flames licking the material of his coat around the edges of the blast hole.

  Adán staggered over to the hammock, his belly starting to scream in protest, and scooped the baby out of it. Jack was quiet now, his blue eyes looking up at Adán with sleepy contentment.

  The room began to shudder and shake. Dust drifted down from the ceiling and sand danced upon the floor. A low, deep rumbling sounded all around them.

  He’s coming. Get out!

  Rhydder spun and slammed up against Adán, Jack squashed between them. Adán felt Rhydder’s arms lock around his back.

  Then he felt nothing.

  * * * * *

  Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2264 A.D.: Demyan lifted his head. “They’re coming,” he said, his eyes staring sightlessly into the middle of everyone gathered in tightly around the table.

  “Who is coming?” Nayara asked, her voice mellow and smooth. Deonne admired her at that moment for the stunning control she was exerting, keeping this entire room of frantic people calm and contained despite the bewildering and scary snippets of news that Pritti was filtering back to them verbally and mentally.

  “The arrival chambers. He’s injured. Help him.” Then Demyan blinked and shook his head. He focused on Nayara. “Rhydder and Adán are here.”

  Nayara looked at Christian. “You and Fahmido. Go. Do whatever you need to do.”

  Christian nodded and left.

  “Rob and Tally should go, too,” Demyan added.

  Tally caught her breath and Deonne could see the hope flare in her eyes, sharp and hard and bright. Rob touched her shoulder and they hurried from the lab, following Christian.

  Demyan looked down at Pritti where she lay motionless on the table. Her eyes were shut and it looked like she was asleep. He picked up her hand and leaned over her.

  “What can we do?” Nayara asked softly.

  Marley was checking Pritti’s pulse the old-fashioned way, her fingertips aga
inst Pritti’s wrist. She glanced at Nayara. Her expression was blandly neutral. Then she looked at Demyan.

  “It’s not over yet,” Marley murmured.

  * * * * *

  Old Jewish Cemetery, Staré Město (Old Town), Prague, Czech Republic, 2264 A.D.: Kieren sat beside what used to be Consuelo, recovering. He felt like he had been beaten by experts. His whole body felt sore and used, but light – like he had been fasting or had been ill.

  He felt Pritti step into his mind this time. There was no finesse. She barreled her way into his thoughts, scattering them like debris before a tornado. He propped himself up with one arm as his vision dimmed.

  “No more,” he told her. “It’s over. Gabriel has gone. Consuelo is dead.”

  Shhh… Her mental voice was calm and cool like glacier water. Listen to me. Open your mind to me. You must hear me.

  There was no time to disagree. He was open and completely vulnerable, with no defenses against whatever she wanted to do to him.

  Thoughts, images, impressions…whole memories began to flicker through his mind. He gasped as he realized that she was giving him her life. Every little intimate thought, every precious memory…and more. It poured into him and through him and he was helpless to do anything except absorb it all.

  He may have sprawled in the dirt amongst the gravestones for a few minutes or a few hours. He had no means for measuring time. It halted and also stretched endlessly on. It ceased to have meaning.

  Then, her last thought, one of sad satisfaction that he had arrived at the agency when he did. You will save them all, Pritti concluded, like you will save a little bit of me.

  Then, silence. Nothing. She was gone.

  Her mental shield, the invisible bowl of safety she had inverted over them all, had also gone.

  After a while, Kieren lifted his head and let the cool evening breeze bathe his face. It was dark. Night had fallen as he sat there.

  Moving stiffly, he got to his feet. He had to return to the agency. For a moment he contemplated the long walk back to where they had left the car. Then he dismissed the idea. Thanks to Pritti, he had faster means of transport he could use, now.

  Gathering his mental energies for the last big effort, he spun on his feet and leapt for home.

  * * * * *

  Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2264 A.D.: Demyan looked up from Pritti’s still form. “She has passed,” he whispered.

  Marley lowered Pritti’s arm back to the table and glanced at Nayara. “What is the time?”

  At the same moment, bodies erupted from nowhere, in the waiting room beyond the glass walls. Deonne saw Christian and Fahmido, Rhydder and Brenden. They were carrying something, heading for the lab.

  Marley pushed her way passed Nayara, then motioned for Deonne and Justin to get out of the way. Ryan moved aside without prompting, giving Marley clear access to the door and the second treatment bed against the other glass wall.

  “Open the door for them,” Marley called, reaching for the overhead diagnostic snooper arm.

  Ryan hit the switch that unlocked the door and it slid open just as the four of them reached it. Fahmido and Rhydder stepped back, letting Christian and Brenden move through the door.

  They carried Adán between them, and he was covered in blood.

  Deonne pressed her hand against her mouth, holding back her cry of dismay, as they laid Adán on the bed. Marley bent over him and Christian took up his post on the other side of the bed. He glanced around the room. “Everyone, leave us be. Give Marley room to work.”

  Nayara rested her hand on Deonne’s shoulder. “Justin,” she said softly. “He’s in the best medical hands I know. He’ll be fine.”

  Justin nodded stiffly, his gaze on Adán’s still body. Christian was cutting away the bloody shirt, revealing the extent and seriousness of the wounds. Adán’s eyes were closed.

  “Take Deonne away,” Nayara murmured. “She doesn’t need to see this.”

  Justin stirred and glanced down at her. His expression softened. “You need supper,” he declared. “I’ll make you something.”

  Deonne resisted the pressure of his arm around her waist. “I can’t eat. Not when he’s lying here like this.” She made herself look at Adán’s face, which was pallid. Fear cascaded through her veins, chilling her.

  “You can’t help,” Nayara said, her voice firm. “And you might hinder his chances if you’re underfoot. Go, Deonne.”

  Reluctantly, Deonne let Justin walk her toward the door, listening to Christian, Marley and Fahmido murmur among themselves as they worked over Adán.

  Then her gaze fell on Pritti. Demyan was bowed over her once more, his hand in her hair, and his gaze on her face. Deonne drew in a shuddering breath and gripped Justin’s hand firmly and let him take her away.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2264 A.D. —two days later.: With the Agency open once more for tours, the offices and administrative areas were humming with activity. As they walked through the big, airy rooms toward the arrival chambers, though, the rooms fell silent and eyes followed their progress. News about Pritti and the aftermath of Prague had clearly filtered across the agency.

  Demyan failed to notice the stares. He walked steadily and slowly, his head down, watching his feet. The sack hanging over his shoulder slapped his back with each pace.

  Kieren picked up the threads of their conversation once more. “Her last thoughts were of you.”

  Demyan lifted his head long enough to smile. The expression was more like a grimace in his gaunt and drawn face. Even his eyes looked tired. “I know,” he said. “She spoke to me before she left.”

  “She saved my life. All our lives.”

  Demyan nodded.

  “We got Jack back only because of Pritti.”

  “So everyone assures me.”

  They were nearly at the arrival chambers. There would be people waiting in the lounge to see Demyan before he left, so Kieren gripped the man’s arm, bringing him to a halt and turning him to face him. Demyan’s eyes narrowed.

  “You think you know what it was like, but you don’t. And you should.” Kieren picked up Demyan’s hand and gripped it in his. “Let me show you.”

  After a long moment of hesitation, Demyan nodded.

  Kieren joined their thoughts together, then showed him the events in Prague. Kieren had already debriefed Rhydder, so he passed that information along, too. Demyan’s eyes grew wider as he watched the events unfold in his mind.

  Kieren let his hand drop. “She died doing good, Demyan. Everyone wants to think their death will mean something. Hers did.”

  Demyan drew in a long, slow breath. “You feel like Pritti. In my mind. You have the same touch.”

  Kieren nodded. “She shared…all of herself. I have all her skills, her talents. She gave them to me.” He hesitated, trying to judge how that sat with Demyan. “Do you mind?”

  Demyan considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “I have some skills, but only because Pritti spent hours and hours teaching me. You have a natural talent. An uncharted one, Brenden says. She picked you for that reason. You will be able to use her abilities. I wouldn’t.”

  He turned and headed for the arrival chamber lounge once more. “It’s…fitting,” he concluded.

  It seemed to Kieren that Demyan was walking with a little more energy in his step.

  There was a small group of people waiting for them in the lounge. Tally and Rob were among them. Tally had Jack in her arms and her face was glowing with happiness.

  Brenden was the first to greet Demyan. “You’re really going through with this madness?” he asked. “It’s dangerous out there.”

  “More dangerous than being a recognized member of the agency?” Demyan asked.

  “Let him go, Brenden,” Justin said, coming up behind them. “He’s been on active duty for seventy-six years. He’s entitled to a break.”

  “He
’s not talking about a vacation, though, is he?” Brenden growled.

  “The Australian Aborigines call it ‘going walkabout’,” Justin replied. “Think of it as a sabbatical.”

  Nayara rested her hand briefly on Demyan’s shoulder. “Try to enjoy yourself,” she said, with a small smile. “You’re welcome back whenever you decide it’s time.”

  Demyan nodded. “Thank you.” He looked around the lounge. “My thanks to all of you.”

  Brenden unlocked the arrival chamber. “If you leave from here, you’ll know where to come back to,” he told Demyan.

  Demyan stepped through and Brenden shut the door behind him. Everyone watched the readout over the door, as it switched from the green that meant ‘occupied’ to the blue, that meant it was empty. Brenden locked the door and the display changed to red.

  Demyan had left.

  * * * * *

  Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2264 A.D.: Adán shifted with slow awkwardness on the elevated mattress, his breath whistling out of him as pain etched his brow.

  Justin reached to help him, but Adán shook his head. “No, I can do it.” He settled himself and picked up Deonne’s hand once more, cradling it in both of his. “I can’t rely on help for much longer.”

  Justin stared at Adán, with a stunned expression. Then he turned away from the bed with a swift movement and walked over to the leadlight window. He stayed with his back turned to them, looking out through the distorting glass.

  “You can take as long as you need,” Deonne told Adán, and glanced at Justin’s back once more. “Am I … missing something?” she asked warily.

  Justin turned his head and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Then he went back to staring at the window.

  She looked at Adán. “What’s going on?”

  Adán gave her a smile. “They’re taking me back to my time. So I can heal.”

  Her heart squeezed hurtfully. “I don’t want you to leave, but if it will heal you…of course it will heal you. As soon as you return to your natural state, the symbiot will repair everything, back to the way it was.” She bit her lip. “But that will only take a moment or two, won’t it? You’ll jump straight back to the moment after you left….” Adán’s expression brought her to a stumbling halt. Cold dread locked her chest and slowed her breathing.