“I didn’t.” She shook her head.
“But you knew we’d be picked up.”
She shrugged. “Time anomaly.”
He shook his head a little. He didn’t understand.
Mariana reached up to speak in his ear. “Someone paid the money into Mathieu’ account. It doesn’t matter who. It just matters that the money appeared at the right moment. That told me we would get out of the village and make it to somewhere where I would be able to arrange for the funds to be paid. So when the tire blew….” She shrugged again.
“When it blew, you knew something else would come along, because we haven’t told anyone about the money yet.”
She nodded.
Laszlo studied her with his green eyes. The green was very clear, she noticed. No murky browns in there at all. Her gaze drew back to his jaw once more. She admired the squareness and firmness of it and the thickness of his neck, which said he was physically strong.
But her gaze came back to his eyes once more. He was still studying her and for a moment it seemed that there was a heat behind his gaze, damped down. He looked away, before she could analyze it.
For the rest of the long, slow journey to Macapá, he didn’t say anything that he didn’t have to shout at her and he didn’t meet her gaze again.
* * * * *
They trundled into downtown Macapá as the sun set in spectacular hues. It was possibly one of the longest days Mariana had ever endured.
After climbing stiffly off the bus, she brushed down her dress. It was standing up spectacularly well, under the circumstances. It didn’t have a wrinkle and it had resisted most stains and soiling. She could walk into a public establishment and not feel too uncomfortable.
“Food, before I rip someone’s head off,” Laszlo declared.
“Not that I want to press upon a sensitive point,” Mariana said, “but how are you going to pay for your food?”
He swore softly, under his breath. “The nearest bank, first,” he said. “Then, food.”
“That sounds like the perfect plan,” she agreed, as he lifted his hand and hailed a taxi.
At the bank, while Laszlo was going through the identification process and getting a temporary card, Mariana cleaned up in the washroom, combed out her hair and reapplied makeup from the limited supplies in her carrysak. She longed for a shower and a change of clothes. The dress, which had seemed almost presentable when the bus had pulled up beside them, now looked dirty and undesirable.
Laszlo was waiting for her when she stepped out into the foyer. He looked much happier. “I have a measure of control over what happens next,” he said. “It always makes a man happier to believe he is in control of his fate. Do you want to contact the agency and let them know why you didn’t return when expected?”
Mariana didn’t have a board or comm link on her. Even while she had still been on the beach next to the wreckage of the car, she had vowed to never again leave the agency—or wherever she defined as home—without some sort of communications device, even if it was a simple squirt signaler for someone to trace. But now she nodded. “I would like to call them, yes. Don’t you have anyone who might be worried about you? We should have been back twenty-four hours ago.”
Laszlo’s jaw rippled and some emotion flickered in his eyes and was gone too fast for Mariana to identify it. “No, there’s no one. Not here. Let’s get your agency people smoothed down, then I’m going to take you to the dinner we should have had last night.”
It was Rob who answered Mariana’s call. He was calm, listening to her explanation for her absence with careful attention. Then he startled her by saying; “Can ye give me the absolute coordinates for where ye left the car?”
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t have a board on me. That’s why I’m calling from a public network. It was well north of Macapá, though. Far enough north that we crossed into French Guiana just by heading directly west. That should narrow it down. Why?”
“We’re going to retrieve the wreckage and give it a good once over, is why, lassie. An agency member and a high-profile client have a car go suddenly wonky? It’s unusual enough that I want to be sure it really was a careless lout slacking off on maintenance.”
“I promised the wreckage to the village headman, as part payment,” Mariana pointed out.
“He’ll get his salvage, once we’re done with it. Go and have your dinner. We’ll stop by and pick you up after. How long do you need to swoon over your man?”
And behind Rob came a low growl. “Oh, for the sake of the gods….”
“Did Brenden hear that?” Mariana asked, her stomach doing a little roll.
“Aya,” Rob agreed. “Three hours should be long enough, surely?”
“We’re just eating,” Mariana said. “Three hours is probably too long.”
“Three hours it is, then. Enjoy, little one.” There was the distinct sound of merriment in Rob’s tone. The old renegade was stirring mischief.
Mariana sighed and told him the name of the restaurant that Laszlo had given her, then disconnected.
* * * * *
Laszlo nodded when she told him the agency would pick them up and why. “Good. I wouldn’t mind eliminating that possibility, either.”
“Sabotage? Who in their right minds would want to bother either of us?”
“There are a few bitter women who might consider removing one or two of my vital organs,” Laszlo said, “but they’d only consider it. You, on the other hand, are a different sort of target.”
“Me?” She was startled. “I’m nobody. Just Mary.”
He turned his head away from her and tapped absently on the window next to him. It was another of his thought-filled silences. They were in a taxi, heading across the Amazon, to reach the restaurant he had nominated. Mariana watched the brown water of the Amazon flow under the bridge for nearly a minute before he spoke once more.
Laszlo looked at her. “Would you…could you promise me something?”
“What?”
“Never again refer to yourself as ‘Just Mary’.”
Mariana could feel her mouth opening a little and brought her jaws together to halt her revealing reaction.
“You’re not just anything,” he went on. His voice was low and hard. “You’re a woman who has lived through some incredible adventures—oh, you don’t have to tell me. I can guess just from the odd things you say and the strange skills you have. You’ve seen and done things a normal human only sees in the movies. Your current career would tax the creativity of Michelangelo and you pass it off as just a job.” He gripped his knee, the knuckles of his hand whitening. “You don’t know what’s in your future. No one does. But I do know this—there’s nothing ordinary in store for you, not with your potential. So please…please…stop referring to yourself as just Mary. You’re Mariana Madison Jones and I won’t sit still for anything less.”
Mariana pressed her lips together, her heart beating hard. She didn’t know what to say. There was no adequate response she could give to something so extraordinary.
“Just say yes,” Laszlo said softly.
“Yes,” she said. It sounded odd.
He straightened and shifted his shoulders, settling them back in to the very square and upright posture that he remained in most of the time. For the first time, Mariana wondered if he had a military background, somewhere in the hazy past where no one had bothered to look.
“Ah, I need food,” he said. “I told you I would start scalping people if I didn’t eat soon.” He looked through the window, ducking to spot the cable, which was a landmark for everyone in the city. “We’re only five minutes away.”
Thanks be to the gods, Mariana thought.
Chapter Eight
Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2265 A.D.
It wasn’t until Gawaine got close to Mavourneen Beraht that he realized exactly how petite she really was. Her reputation and her air of independence made it seem like she was a lot bigger.
> She was still fiery. Energy seemed to crackle off her as she moved about the courtyard, supervising and directing where it was needed. Then she saw Gawaine where he was standing at the top of the broad and shallow steps down to the courtyard and walked directly toward him.
He reminded himself to stay calm, even though the woman was scowling. She looked like she was ready to pick up right where she had left off the other day. He held up his hand as she climbed the steps, to forestall her. “I don’t want to argue with you.”
“Then turn around and shimmy out through those doors there, sweetheart.” She put her hand on her hip, daring him to defy her. There was a smudge of grease or something equally as dark on the side of her jaw.
He remembered his plan and swallowed back his rising anger. “Look, it’s really clear to anyone with an ounce of sense that you’re smart. I didn’t get a long look at the circuits and algorithms you have loaded into the processors, but I saw enough to know whoever programmed them is a long way removed from stupid.”
She wasn’t listening. He could see her starting to vibrate with impatience because he was intruding on her turf. “You built the circuits from scratch, didn’t you?” he said quickly.
She hesitated, a tiny frown puckering the smooth flesh between her brows.
“You didn’t just build them. You wrote the code, line by line. It must have taken months.” He let his admiration show in his tone. If he was right, then she was way beyond smart.
“It took years,” Mavourneen corrected. She tilted her head to study him. “You have a point to make?”
Gawaine nodded. “I want you to realize up front, I didn’t have to come back here today. I could have walked away with my nose in the air and figured it was your business. Okay?”
“So you came back to plague my life. Your point?” She wasn’t going to give him an inch, but she was listening, now.
Gawaine reminded himself to stay calm once more, but this time because he could feel a low level excitement in his belly. Maybe now she would hear him out and understand the threat. “You’ve got a whole lot of neural readers and circuits, hooked up to what looks like a lot of weather generators.”
Her temper was starting to simmer again. “So? This is none of your business.”
“Look, I’m not here to steal your code, or proprietary secrets. I could write twice as much code in half the time and it would be more robust, so just smooth your hackles down, okay? I’m trying to tell you something. Something important.”
She studied him, her black eyes sharp with interest. “You could not write as fast me. You have to sleep.”
Gawaine sighed. It was hard to keep her on subject. Was this what Marley often complained about? Is this what it was like talking to him, sometimes? “I could do it without breaking sweat. But that’s not the point. Really. I need you to listen. For just one minute. That’s all. Give me one minute.”
She crossed her arms and tilted her head to the other side. Her curly hair flipped over that shoulder, resting against the flesh. For the first time Gawaine noticed that the top she was wearing didn’t have sleeves. Or straps. It just…stayed in place.
“One minute,” she said flatly. “Not a second more.”
Calm! He drew in another breath and spoke quickly. “You’ve done marvels with the circuits but you’ve set up a biofeedback loop on one of them. It’s subtle and I understand why you might have missed it, but it’s connected to six other circuits. If the primary goes into a spiral the others will boost it, because that’s what they’re supposed to do.”
“Are you telling me I made a mistake?”
“No!” He could feel sweat prickling under his arms. “It’s a matter of emphasis. You favored the weak circuit. It’s not your fault. It’s vulnerable because it’s the entry circuit and has to play traffic cop, too. Any particularly strong emotion might send it into a feedback loop that would bring in the others….” He trailed off and sighed. “Look, try it yourself. Bring the circuits online and the pickups live. I’ll show you.”
She laughed harshly. “You’re not touching my—”
“I won’t lay a finger on them,” he said swiftly. “ You can do all the work. I’ll even stand on the other side where I can’t see the biometrics. But I want you to see what I mean.”
Mavourneen tapped her fingers against her hips. The fingernails were brightly colored, to match the clothes she was wearing. She pursed her lips, making the centers pout. “I will try it, just to have the satisfaction of kicking you into the Tiber when nothing happens.”
“If nothing happens,” Gawaine said quietly, “I will throw myself in.” But he knew that wouldn’t happen. He knew it in his bones.
She turned and strode over to the circuit boards and controller. That she could stride at all was amazing, considering the heels on the boots she was wearing. Gawaine followed her over and stood on the other side as he said he would and watched her bring the circuits on-line. “And the bio sensors, too,” he reminded her.
She scowled and reached across to the other board and slid her finger over the surface.
Nothing changed around them, but Gawaine could feel his skin relaxing and loosening. “Humidity has risen,” he said.
“Genius,” Mavourneen said dryly. She crossed her arms, staring at him.
Gawaine waited. Mavourneen was angry enough to jump start the process, so why…? Then he clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This whole system is focused on a man, isn’t it?”
“None of your—”
“Yeah, I know,” he interrupted. “It’s me that needs to be angry.” He looked at her, recalling all her distain and her refusal to listen, the way she had slapped him around last time. The way her stupid, ignorant attitude was endangering people’s lives. If she just got off her high horse for one tiny second and thought about it, she would see what he was telling her was right. Dammit, why did the world have to be so fucking stupid? Why did the world kowtow to the lowest common denominator, making sure the idiots weren’t left trailing behind while those that understood had to fall back and compromise and make more and more adjustments until it was almost impossible to get anything done….
The cool air stirred and swept against him. It lifted the shimmery fabric of Mavourneen’s dress, showing the high tops of her boots. She looked around, frowning. “Are you doing that?” she demanded. “Are you psi?”
“No, I’m fucking pissed!” Gawaine railed at her. “Don’t you get it? It’s feeding off me! Off my temper!”
The wind picked up and now he realized that it was circling around the edges of the courtyard, moving faster and faster. It was tugging at his shirt and making his eyes water.
Mavourneen reached out for the controls, one eye almost closed against the icy wind. She looked up at Gawaine. “It won’t turn off!”
“It’s caught in the loop!” He had to lift his voice to be heard over the sound of the wind. It was almost screaming now. Workers ran for the safety of the building. A ladder overturned with a clatter. A reading board picked itself up off the console next to him and whizzed through the air to smash against the wall on the opposite side of the courtyard.
Gawaine ducked as a second board launched itself at his head. He stayed low and moved around the console. It was a struggle to move against the wind and he used the heavy consoles as anchors.
Mavourneen was working at the circuits, trying to disengage them. Her clothing was whipping around her like multi-colored leaves.
“Leave them!” Gawaine yelled.
“I have to stop this!”
He grabbed her arm and hauled her away. “We have to take the neurals out!” They were still feeding from him, from his sudden fear and the adrenaline pumping through him. Nothing would halt this until they stopped reading him.
Mavourneen cried out as a spanner shot past her with the power and speed of a bullet. She threw her arms over her head. Gawaine pulled her against him and turned his back to the wind. He was bigger than her and heavier. He also had his knee l
ocked under the console shelf, holding him down.
Then he reached over to the other console, slid his hand underneath, grabbed the pulsing threads he felt there and yanked. He kept grabbing and ripping, until he couldn’t feel any more warm threads. Then he wrapped his arms around Mavourneen, trying to shield as much of her as he could.
“It’s still going!” she cried.
“It’ll die down now,” he shouted back. Already he could hear a drop in the mindless, screeching howl of the wind. Weather always diminished. It never stopped on a dime. This was artificially-induced weather, but it was still weather and the weather generators were still on-line.
Finally, the wind dropped, all the fury and fear he had fed into the loop spent.
Mavourneen straightened up, lifted her head and looked around. The courtyard was a mess. Leaves and small branches had been stripped from the trees and were littered across the faded lawn. Equipment was tipped over, the lighter stuff scattered and spilled. Loose wiring and more leaves were pushed up against the walls of the buildings lining the courtyard.
Mavourneen’s workforce had disappeared. They had sensibly headed inside, to get away from the cyclonic wind.
She glanced up at Gawaine. “You were right.”
“You’re used to building grand environments. Acres at a time. You can’t use neural feedback in this tiny space. Not with the circuits you designed.” His voice came out rough. What was wrong with him? He was still tense. Uptight. But the danger was over.
Mavourneen was studying him frankly. “Who are you?”
He kissed her. He had no idea why he did, until he felt the leap and surge of his body and realized that this explained his tension. The kiss was explosive. Her mouth under his was soft and sweet. He cupped her head, holding her still so that he could kiss her more thoroughly. More deeply.
When she moaned, her slight body shifting against him, Gawaine released her and looked into her eyes, trying to gauge her reaction. She was breathless, her eyes drowsy.
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