“That’s a lie,” Olivia said, her voice calm and filled with conviction. “You are both cynical and pragmatic and you’ll say anything to get what you want.”
This time the color in his cheeks wasn’t slight, his expression angry.
“So be it. I guess I’ll have to divide and conquer. You,” he looked at Carey, “stay here. Miss Carstairs—”
His words stopped at the familiar sound of a gun cocking. Carey had noticed before Olivia had a very steady hand. Now Smith got a chance to notice it. Anger faded for something that looked a lot like admiration. Carey didn’t like it, though he wasn’t sure why.
“If you fire that, the guard will come in.”
“True. But you’ll be dead. That seems a fair exchange to me.”
Carey believed her. Smith appeared to believe her, too.
“This is unnecessary and unwise.”
“When one is seeing the elephant, one is, I think, required to be unwise.” She rose, drawing Carey with her. “Otherwise, one might as well stay home.”
Smith’s gaze narrowed. “If its adventure you want, I can help you with that.”
No question what was in his gaze this time. The table was a narrow barrier that Carey got around in a blink, not caring that he dragged Olivia with him. His fist connected with Smith’s jaw before he’d have time to think, I’d like to punch that guy. Smith staggered back, tripped over his chair and went down, hitting his head on the wall. It wasn’t pretty but the end result was lights out for Smith, so Carey wasn’t complaining. The door opened and the guard rushed in. Carey thought they were busted, but Olivia had already hid the gun behind her dress.
“He fell and hit his head,” she said, fluttering her lashes at the unprepared private. For a girl who didn’t lie well, she knew how to walk the fine line, or she was a fast learner.
The guy turned to get help and Carey took him down with more precision than he’d used on Smith. Olivia shut the door and looked at him, her eyes both round and hopeful.
“Now what?”
“We need to leave. We’ve hung around enough to show up in history.” He hoped. “But we need to do a couple of things first.”
“Yes?”
When she arched her brows for Smith, the move had been kind of royal and imperious. But now it was nice. How could brows do that? Made him feel good. Like he could do stuff. He wondered if she’d hit him when he told her what she needed to do. At least her parasol was out of reach.
He smiled at her. “Have you ever heard the phrase suck it up?”
* * * *
Olivia had never guessed, that in process of seeing the elephant, that the elephant—or in this case Brae—would see her in her knickers. In a battle between logic and her Mama, of course logic must rule, so she sucked up whatever it was Brae wanted her to suck up and changed into the unconscious soldier’s uniform. She adjusted her hair, too, swiftly braiding it, so Brae could tuck inside the back of the uniform top.
“We won’t fool anyone close up, but we don’t want to get that close to anyone anyway.”
Brae had stripped the soldier while she’d mostly averted her eyes. Curiosity was as important as logic, according to Professor Twitchet. And she was curious to more closely observe the male form—for purely scientific reasons, of course.
“You’d probably be more comfortable if you’d shed your corset thing.”
“You said you wouldn’t look.” Olivia tried not to sound pleased, when she should be outraged.
His grin was a bit sheepish, a bit devilish. “Would you believe it was an accident?”
She would probably believe most anything he told her, she had to concede with not enough chagrin. She thought about asking what he knew of female corsets, but realized she did not wish to know. Instead, she watched with interest as Brae cut her clothing into strips and used them to secure both men. He took the guard’s pistol and checked it for bullets.
“You can’t use that, you know. It could alter the future.” It was most awkward. The soldiers on the base could freely shoot at them, but they would not be able to shoot back.
“I wouldn’t anyway. Those are our guys. I’ll just use it for persuasion purposes.”
Professor Smith regained his wits just as they were preparing to leave the room. He could not speak, but his eyes had much to say, though not what she’d expected. He looked more amused than annoyed. How precisely could he travel through time? Would he be waiting for them outside? It was a chilling thought. She very much wished Brae’s doc would retrieve them. She did not like the way the Professor looked at her, as if they were something more than friends. She’d been distrustful of him before his break with Professor Twitchet and his behavior here only increased that distrust.
One thing was certain: he was not interested in the transmogrification machine, which meant he was interested in one of the other experiments. It did not explain why a man who could travel through time would be interested in any of the experiments. If time were persistent, as he insisted, had anything changed when she and Brae collided? And what would time do to restore itself?
“Stick close to me out there,” Brae said, as if Olivia had a choice when they were shackled together.
He eased the door open and looked quickly in both directions. “Let’s go.”
Olivia was most relieved to not see Professor Smith as they headed down the empty hallway. Perhaps the majority of the soldiers were out searching for the machine? At a corner, Brae stopped and checked again, before proceeding. There was a precision about it she found thrilling and she also enjoyed the freedom of her new attire. It was much easier to keep up with Brae minus the confining nature of her skirts. She felt different, wondered if she moved differently wearing them. She did not know much about this time, but already she liked it better than her own. Was the professor right? Was she rejecting his help because she didn’t wish to return home? Had she succumbed to the illogical? She would be most disappointed in herself if she had.
No, she had never liked the professor, she reminded herself. It wasn’t just about smiles and charm, but an air of trustworthiness—or lack of it in the professor’s case. And if he told the truth, then time would eventually assert itself, with or without her cooperation.
They reached an entryway to the outside. Through a dirty window, Olivia saw her second flying machine, sitting next to her first flying machine. “Why are they not using the chopper to search?”
“It probably can’t get over the mountains and going around would use up a lot of fuel.”
Next to the flying machines sat one of the horseless carriages. “Are we going to purloin a horseless carriage?” She’d seen his driving license, so she knew he could drive. Perhaps, once they’d escaped, he’d teach her how to drive. She looked a bit wistfully at the flying machines. It would lovely to soar through the air before time sent her home.
Ahead of his answer, a shout broke the relative calm.
“Busted,” Brae said. “We jog toward the chopper like it’s our job. Don’t look back and don’t stop no matter what happens.”
Before she could agree, he set off, towing her along will she or nil she. Fortunately what few men were around appeared to be paying no attention to them, though she was very glad she had sucked it up. She was quite sure her changed attire made all the difference.
They reached the chopper’s doors and Brae yanked it open. He boosted her and she clambered into the other seat, trying not to cause him discomfort by her movements, once again grateful for the change of attire. She was quite sure she could not have managed it in her skirts. The noise of the pursuit built in the direction they’d come from. Brae did some things and the paddles above her head began to rotate. How would it rise? Would it soar into the air like a bird? Leap like a fish? Or rise like steam?
“We should hurry.” She gave him a hopeful look.
“No, shi-sierra.”
There was a louder, closer shout and with a sudden jerk, the chopper lifted in the air. Not anything like she�
�d expected, but it achieved the desired outcome.
There were shouts. Shots. One came very close to her, setting off a brief spark against the metal. She leaned out to see who was shooting at them and saw Professor Smith staring up at them, his expression still not as displeased as she’d have expected. He gave her a tiny salute and she leaned back, her heart pounding. What did he know that they did not? Or was it a bluff? No matter how persistent time, personal choice must matter as well, mustn’t it? Perhaps he had hoped to discompose her by piling on the agony?
And then it didn’t matter, the professor didn’t matter, because they were airborne. The ground fell away at an exciting rate. Olivia leaned out again. The base, the swarm of men looked small and she could no longer find the professor in their midst. She turned to smile at Brae and found him wrestling with a sort of stick looking thing that appeared to control the smoothness of their flight. His actions pulled on her shackled arm and he seemed concerned, but Olivia was unable to share it. Not while the wind swooshed in from all directions, whipping strands of hair free from her braid, not when the world rushed past below her as they crossed the Rio Grande River as easily as one stepped over a puddle of rain water.
She laughed out loud, but the wind whipped the sound away. Let time try to put her back in the social box, let it do its worst. She’d find a way to feel this free again. Soaring through the sky, so high and so free, it altered her fundamentally. Men were powerful when one was stuck looking up at them, but now she’d seen them small, like ants on the ground. It changed everything.
Professor Twitchet knew many things, but he had failed to see behind Professor Smith’s designing mask until it was almost too late. It had placed them both in danger. He was not all-wise and all knowing. He was just a man. And so was Professor Smith. She would not fear him. She would not give him that power. He may know more about history and the future than she did, but there were things he didn’t know, things that were his weakness.
Brae had seen her more clearly in less time. He may not be a scientist, but he was a good and decent man and worthy of her trust. As if he felt her gaze, he glanced at her. His brows went up, making her heart soar even higher than her physical self.
“What?” he had to shout to be heard over the chopper.
She smiled at him without restraint. She hadn’t raised her voice since she was little, but did it without qualms now. “Thank you for helping me.”
His answering smile was all the reward she needed. For now. If a woman of science could not figure how to get a man to kiss her, she did not deserve the label.
* * * *
He wanted to keep her. The thought hit him when he couldn’t afford the distraction, but her smile had almost knocked his boots off. Before he could stop it, the memory of her in her underwear rose up to mess with his head. It hadn’t revealed that much, so why it made him hot, he didn’t know, just that it did. He had to keep her. The idea wasn’t totally whacked. Sara Donovan had found an alien and got to keep him. The doc got to keep her alien, too, and Olivia wasn’t an alien, not really. He’d found Olivia, so it seemed fair he got to keep her. His mom had always said he needed to find a good, old fashioned girl to settle down with. Who knew his mom would be right? She’d like Olivia. He liked Olivia. Her trust made him feel like he could fly without benefit of the chopper.
It was too bad the chopper chose that moment to give an unsightly cough. He scanned the gauges for a cause and found one. They must have taken a bullet to the fuel tank. What a cliché. He aimed the chopper back toward the river. He didn’t know a lot about Mexico in the 1940’s so it seemed a bad idea to crash there. Besides, he didn’t speak Spanish.
“We’re going down.” He shouted as the chopper coughed again.
“Do we have to? It’s wonderful!” Her face was lit with excitement, reminding him of his first flight. He hated to bring her down. What would she make of another galaxy? He managed a quick look at her and decided she’d manage it just fine.
“No choice! We’re out of juice!” He wrestled the unfamiliar stick and the chopper swung wide, then turned reluctantly back toward the river. The ground and the river closed at about the same rate. Olivia seemed unaware of the danger. She leaned out the opening, peering down and then up and then turning to give him that big, beautiful smile.
The runners of the chopper skimmed the river surface before he managed to get one last lift over the bank.
“Hang on! We’re going in!” When they hit, he grabbed Olivia, trying to protect her from the worst of the jostling. They skidded forward, bouncing around the cockpit. He saw his chance and pushed them out Olivia’s side. They went left, luckily the chopper went right. He twisted, trying to take the impact for them both. It hurt his ribs like an SOB. They rolled several feet, ending up with him on top.
The chopper continued a bit longer, until a runner caught on something, lifted the Sikorsky up on its nose and putting the blade in contact with the ground. That sent it top over tail until it was completely bent. He tensed, waiting for an explosion, but there must not have been enough fuel. It subsided with an angry crunch of metal.
“Oh,” Olivia sighed against him. “We broke it.”
“Are you all right?” He should get off her and he would, once he made sure she was all right.
“I rode in a flying machine and crashed. Everything is better than all right. It is bodacious.”
How could he not love a girl who thought crashing was bodacious? Love? He examined the idea while he examined Olivia with intent to kiss. She wasn’t shoving him off. In fact, her mouth was curving up and her hands were moving up his chest. Yup, right around his neck. A little gritty but still nice. If this was love, it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be.
“I want to kiss you like it’s my job,” he said.
Her smile changed, though he wasn’t sure how, because of the inevitable side effect of female proximity, i.e. redirection of blood flow.
“Then I think you should.”
So he did. It was even better than the last time, despite the grit from their roll in the dirt. He tried to keep it gentle because she as an old-fashioned girl, but Olivia’s enthusiasm required an equal level of enthusiasm on his part. When the giant hand reached into his chest, curled around his gut and yanked, he almost didn’t notice. But then his back bowed or maybe it was the horizon. Hard to be sure with his mouth fused to Olivia’s. He hung on to Olivia. She clung to him. Even the wormhole taking them couldn’t break the kiss.
Like his last trip, he was aware of himself, but there was also a disconnect, a distance. He knew they were in motion. Lights, in lots of colors, streamed past. Different from stepping into the portal, not painful, but weird. Ride was the same, though. He knew when it stopped, because the kissing kicked on the after burners again.
Someone cleared their throat.
Brae peeled his lips off Olivia and looked up. He was back on the Kikk outpost, half lying inside the portal with Olivia in his arms. The doc was a few feet away, with her arms crossed. She’d shortened her black hair at some point during the deployment, but the Theme from the Addams Family still started to play inside his head. She was just too Morticia for comfort.
“I thought I told you not to touch anyone, Colonel Carey!”
* * * *
Olivia could not but be pleased at how reluctantly Brae released her and helped her to her feet. Olivia was also happy to be dressed in the soldier’s uniform when she observed the woman regarding them was attired in a similar manner to Brae. It was somewhat equalizing. He kept their shackled arms behind them, which required her to be close against him. The room they were in was stone, walls and floor, almost like a dungeon, but nicer somehow. It had the chill and scent of being underground. Four square cabinets, two on each side, were the only decorative elements and they failed signally in that function.
“Doc.” Brae ruffled his hair. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his hat. “Olivia, this is the doc. Doc Clementyne. Doc, this is Olivia. Olivia
Carstairs.”
Doctor Clementyne’s expression was detached, but Olivia found it not unpleasant. Maybe it was the humor buried very deep in her unusual blue eyes. They were of such a dark blue, they were almost violet. She did not delude herself that this doc was happy to see her, however. Despite her amusement, she was not pleased with Olivia’s arrival.
Olivia almost curtsied, but managed to restrain herself. “How do you do, Doctor Clementyne.”
This doctor held out her right hand to Olivia and without thinking Olivia reciprocated, bringing her and Brae’s shackled hands into view.
The doctor’s brows arched toward her hairline. “Kinky.”
Olivia did not know why she would think they were unusually bent. She did notice it made Brae a bit sheepish.
“It was necessary we stay in contact so that I would be sure to travel through this portal with him,” she explained, since Brae seemed unaccountably tongue-tied.
“It was necessary?”
Now Olivia picked up on the slight British accent in her voice. The doctor looked at Brae for an explanation, but Olivia felt she should respond and did so. “After the collision stranded me in the 1940’s, I had no other way to return to my time.”
“Your time?” Now the doctor looked obviously interested. “And when that might be?”
“1894.”
“Wait a minute,” the doctor’s expression turned to fascinated. “Collision?”
“We crashed into each other in there,” Brae said. “Well, I crashed into her machine.”
“Machine?”
“The transmogrification machine,” Olivia said.
Olivia could see her putting the pieces together. It was most interesting. She wore the garb of a soldier, but it seemed clear that she was also a scientist.
“I can see we have a lot of to discuss,” she finally said. “How about we get you disconnected and cleaned up first?”
Brae looked at Olivia. It took a few moments to recall she had the key. With a slight flush, she reached down into her bodice, but her fingers found only the transmogrification key.
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