Paradox Lost

by Libby Drew

  He hadn’t meant the words to carry, but the several conversations happening around the room stopped and an expectant silence descended. It took several seconds for Perry to find his voice. “I didn’t realize that was possible.”

  “It’s rare, but possible.”

  NTTA Agent Silas had called someone in the wake of Reegan’s announcement and was now whispering furiously into the thin filament connected to her earpiece, gaze fixed on Saul. Reegan’s gut churned, and when she started across the room toward them, he sidled closer to the sofa, placing himself in her path.

  She blew right up into his personal space, twitching with excitement. “Dr. McNamara, I’m Ann Silas with the NTTA. Don’t worry. A team is on the way.”

  “A team of what?”

  She floundered at his sharp reply. “Of medical professionals. If your traveler is actually from the past, he’ll need to be quarantined immediately. Be seen by our doctors.” She leaned close to whisper in his ear, as though Saul weren’t sitting three feet away. “And receive psychological counseling, of course, before he’s sent back.”

  “Sent back?” Shock and dismay laced Saul’s voice. He looked between Silas and Reegan. “I can’t stay?”

  Yes, you can stay. The words lodged in Reegan’s throat. He had no idea if they were true. “You can’t send him back there. He—”

  Silas tilted her head. Waited.

  He belongs with me. Those four words held all the truth in the universe but wouldn’t mean a thing to the NTTA.

  “Dr. McNamara, surely you understand why he needs to return.”

  He didn’t have a single weapon against her honest curiosity, not a reasonable one. None that penetrated the sizzling ball of emotion churning in his chest. He stifled the desire to stamp his foot, yell “mine” and wrap Saul protectively in his arms.

  Struggling to keep his voice even, he answered. “Isn’t that something that can be negotiated? Challenged?”

  Her gaze flew between the two of them, lingering longer on Saul than Reegan liked. “He still needs quarantine. I’m afraid that’s not up for debate.”

  Reegan hadn’t considered quarantine, although it made sense. Saul lacked immunity to some of the mutated superviruses discovered in the past century. He had no identity. No money. And no matter how brave a front he put up, Reegan knew he was scared. So having this lady treat him like a bug in a jar, with no rights or feelings, grated.

  But the root of his anger was that he had no control over the process. They’d take him, whether Reegan protested or not. The thought of Saul being separated from him—more, the idea of Saul having to deal with everything alone—set all his protective instincts on fire. “I understand, but I’d like to stay with him.”

  “I’m not sure that will be possible.”

  He’d make it possible. Reegan squared his shoulders, but Saul cut off his rant before it began.

  “It’s fine, Reegan.” Voice thin, he tipped his chin at Agent Silas. “I’ll go with them. It’ll be okay.”

  The med team had flocked to Silvia’s side at first. Now two of the four peeled off and approached Saul and Reegan. The first sank to his haunches by Saul’s side and began scanning his injuries. Saul followed the movement of the compact handheld device as it passed over his body but said nothing. The second medic buzzed around Reegan with another scanner, huffing in frustration. “Please stay still, sir.”

  “I’m fine. I don’t need medical attention right now.”

  “These readings say otherwise.”

  Before Reegan could answer, even more people poured into the jaunt room. Leading the pack was a tall suited man with permanent frown lines. He scanned the crowd, spied Silvia and set off in her direction, dodging bodies with experienced grace. Nobody was that slippery without extensive training. Had to be a lawyer.

  Feeling stretched to his limit, Reegan brushed the medic aside and jabbed a finger at the NTTA agent. “He doesn’t go anywhere unless I go with him. Is that clear?”

  Saul’s lips curled up on one side, but he made no comment.

  The detectives lurked, looking less friendly by the minute. The news that Saul was a cop had eased them somewhat. Apparently the brotherhood of the badge transcended time. But it also meant they’d taken to glaring at Reegan again. “Are you ready to give that statement now, Dr. McNamara?” Detective Perry prodded.

  “In a minute.” Reegan brushed past them and followed the trail the lawyer had blazed through the crowd, coming upon him from behind. He took quick stock. The guy fit the Victor D’arco employee stereotype. Intimidating. Aggressive. Several chunky rings glittered on his fingers, the accessories at odds with his conservative gray pinstripes. From the musky stench wafting around him, the guy bathed in his aftershave.

  A bully. Exactly the type of attorney D’arco would keep on retainer.

  “I demand to know Councilman D’arco’s whereabouts.” The man loomed over the chair where a medical transport team was tending to Silvia. “If this is another stunt of yours to insinuate something unsavory—”

  “Shut up.” Reegan’s clipped command made everyone, including the woman treating Silvia’s injuries, jump. Silvia’s gaze lifted to Reegan as the lawyer spun around. “Who are you?”

  “I’m the guy who’s about to insinuate something very unsavory.” He waited for his words to penetrate. “You’re the guy who’s going to shut your mouth and get the hell out of here.”

  The man’s lip curled. “And why would I do that?”

  Reegan reached around him to snag Silvia’s elbow, drawing her close. She came willingly, tucking herself into his side.

  Far from looking cowed, she vibrated against him, eyes flashing. “Because you were told to,” she said. “I know how you love to take commands, Kincaid. Take this one.”

  Reegan had rarely exchanged blows in an actual fight. A few times growing up. Never since college. But the way Kincaid smirked made his fists twitch.

  “Again. Why would I?”

  “Lots of reasons,” Reegan said. “But the most important might be to hone your damage control skills.” He saw Detective Perry approaching, ears pricked for a clue to their conversation. “Because the truth about your boss is about to come out.”

  “What truth?”

  “Dr. McNamara can’t comment on that until he gives his official statement.” Perry did a poor job of hiding his irritation. “Which we’re still waiting on.”

  Prolonging them much longer wouldn’t be wise. Not if he had any hope of getting their names cleared. Reegan leaned close to Silvia’s ear. She met him halfway, curling a hand around his elbow. “Will you stay with him while I’m gone?” he asked.

  Her warm green eyes filled with understanding. “Of course.”

  “What about this asshole?” He jabbed a finger at Kincaid, who sputtered and flushed a deep scarlet.

  She dismissed the threat with a sniff. “I can take care of him. And I’ve got reinforcements coming. I’ll be fine.”

  With a parting squeeze, she set off across the room, joining Saul where he sat slumped on the sofa, and Reegan turned to the two detectives. “I’m ready.”

  *

  The statement took longer than it should have. Perry asked for extensive clarification, but Reegan had played the game of cover-your-ass enough times to recognize the strategy. After an hour, his skin crawled with the need to get back to Saul, but Perry’s relentless interrogation continued. He seemed fascinated by the idea of D’arco abusing his wife. All the soothsayer could do was verify that Reegan believed Silvia was a victim. She would have to confirm those facts firsthand.

  He’d hoped for some softening of Perry’s demeanor as the questions continued. Some clue that the man would come down on Reegan’s side of things, but the detective’s expression never changed, remaining a chiseled mask of indifference. Not a wisp of empathy escaped his cold eyes. The ball of dread in Reegan’s stomach grew until he felt swollen with it.

  After two hours, exhaustion caught up to him. He lowered his
head into his hands. “Please tell me we’re done.”

  The ensuing silence promised little, but then Perry spoke, aloof as he began detaching Reegan’s leads from the soothsayer. “I think that’s more than enough. We’ll be in touch, but right now you’re free to go.”

  Not even a thanks for his cooperation, not that it was required, but its absence didn’t bode well. His own muttered thank you got lost in his rush to get back across the hall.

  *

  The room held fewer people now. Besides Maxie and Silvia, Reegan counted one NTTA agent—Silas—and two older men who were whispering with Silvia in the corner. Her reinforcements, judging by their deferential behavior. No sign of Saul, though. Reegan’s heartbeat kicked up.

  He was gone.

  A humming noise caught Reegan’s attention, similar to how the collider sounded when it was cycling down after a jaunt. But with the blood rushing in his ears, he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t catch his breath. His stomach heaved.

  They couldn’t have sent him back. Not yet.

  “Where is he?” he asked, voice trembling.

  His question caught Silvia’s attention. She excused herself from her conversation and came to meet him, making soothing sounds. Agent Silas rose from her chair and smoothed her jumpsuit before moving to join them.

  “They took him to the hospital,” Silvia said. She caught him as he spun to leave. “Reegan, please calm down. It was for his own good.”

  “Bullshit.” His panic drained away, only to have guilt rush in to fill the void. “I was going to go with him. Why couldn’t you just wait?”

  Agent Silas cleared her throat. “I understand your concern, but the quarantine wasn’t something we could postpone. Mr. Kildare was suffering from head trauma, exhaustion and shock. I know you’re worried, but this truly was the safest option for him.”

  Reconciling her words with the condescending tone became a battle, but arguing when the damage was done would do little good. Saul was out of his reach. But at least he was still in 2145, at least for now.

  “I wouldn’t have let him go if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do.” Silvia placed her tiny hand on Reegan’s chest, right over his galloping heart. “He was in a lot of pain.”

  Low blow. The strength to fight abandoned him. Reegan’s shoulders slouched.

  “We’ll need to see him,” Perry said, stepping into their circle. “As part of the investigation.”

  “Of course. We’ll make sure you have access as soon as possible. And certainly before he’s returned to his proper time.”

  Reegan gritted his teeth, hands clenching into trembling fists at his sides.

  Silas sniffed, ignoring his obvious agitation. “There’s a real mess to sort out here, and until then…” She tapped rapidly on her comm screen. The lights in the jaunt room dimmed. “Your license to operate has been suspended and your energy intake has been restricted.”

  Tempted to roll his eyes, Reegan rubbed them instead. “We would’ve willingly suspended operations. You didn’t have to cut our power.” Running the collider took just about everything Blast in the Past had. Their panels sizzled when it activated. At half-energy, it would be little more than a glorified merry-go-round.

  “You still have unlimited access to the building’s solar stores. More than enough to run your computers and backup systems. That will have to be sufficient.”

  The pair of clowns they’d sent last time hadn’t rationed their power needs. Maxie had to be fuming. Of course, no one had died in the previous incident.

  “You’ll want to inform the owner of all this.”

  “We already did.” Silas glanced over her shoulder to where Maxie sat slouched over the bar. “He didn’t seem shocked.”

  “Yeah, well.” Maxie wasn’t an NTTA investigation virgin. Which Silas certainly already knew. “Any idea how long before we can schedule jaunts again?”

  Silas tilted her head. “Are you in a hurry to go somewhere?”

  The last time he’d heard those words—your license to operate has been suspended temporarily—Reegan’s insides had frozen over. Today he only felt relief and a burning need to get to Saul. “I need to know who to speak to on Saul Kildare’s behalf. I forbid you to return him to his own time until I can petition for him to stay.”

  “You forbid?” Silas hugged her comm tablet to her chest. “Dr. McNamara, I heard a bare-bones account of how he supposedly ended up here. To say he made the decision under duress would be a vast understatement. How is it you’re so sure he wants to stay?”

  He flinched at the question. Silvia’s hand slipped over his fist, giving it a gentle squeeze, but he couldn’t unclench his fingers to return the favor. “I just know.”

  Silas arched a brow. “Time will tell.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A light rap on his door had Saul turning his head from the window.

  The orderly jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the lounge. “You’ve got a visitor.”

  He’d only ever had one visitor these past two weeks. Why the staff continued to treat Reegan like a perfect stranger every time he showed up—which was daily—baffled Saul.

  “Thanks. I’ll be out in a second.”

  The orderly withdrew, and Saul unfolded himself from the window sill. The view captivated him. His city had changed, become a classic framework swirled through with modern touches. The revered monuments of old stood side by side with the sleek buildings of the twenty-second century. Alien but beautiful, so much so that he felt locked in a fairytale sometimes.

  He walked into the isolation lounge, smiling when he saw Reegan waiting on the other side of the thin polymer screen.

  When Reegan glanced up and caught sight of Saul, his face lit. “I have some news.” His voice echoed through the speakers as though they were standing side by side.

  “I figured, the way you were smiling.”

  “The smile’s for you, handsome.” Reegan took a seat when Saul did, and they stared at each other through the shield. “I got word this morning. The investigation into D’arco’s death has been closed. No charges filed. No accusations of wrongdoing. At least toward anyone who’s still breathing.”

  Saul hated to steal Reegan’s thunder. “I know, but thanks for coming to tell me.”

  “How did you know?” Cocking his head, Reegan leaned forward, gaze intent. “Did they contact you?”

  “Not directly. But they informed the NTTA.” He swallowed against a dry throat. “Agent Silas called me this morning and broke the news. She also said…”

  Reegan clamped his hands together between his knees. Even through the glass, Saul saw his knuckles go white. “Yes?”

  “My quarantine ends tomorrow.”

  Reegan’s eyes flashed. “Really? Why so suddenly?”

  “I guess it’s not so sudden. They’ve been waiting for the outcome of the investigation to rule on my petition for asylum.” It took three tries to get the next words out. “We’ll know tomorrow sometime whether I can stay or whether I’ll be sent back to 2020. In the meantime, I’m being given the day to myself.”

  To say goodbye. Silas hadn’t said that. She hadn’t needed to. The NTTA had fought his request from day one, and no amount of influence from Reegan or Silvia had appeared to help his case.

  Reegan didn’t speak for a long time. When he did, he used the soothing tone that had coaxed Saul off a few cliffs these past two weeks. “We did our best. It has to be enough. I won’t believe otherwise.”

  Saul pasted on a weak smile. “Always the optimist.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  It wasn’t a straightforward question, but Reegan’s way of asking how he was coping with the news. Saul had been open with the doctors about his addiction. And they’d been open with him on the options. Shunning medicinal relief, he’d decided to stick with old-fashioned willpower. The battle had given him focus and sustained him through the worst of his loneliness.

  “I’m winning for now,” he
said with complete honesty. “So can I come see you tomorrow?”

  “I’ll pick you up.”

  “No.” He tempered his tone. “I want to do it myself. At least once. Could you just tell me how to get to where you live?”

  Reegan’s eyes reflected enough pride that Saul blushed. “Of course. I’ll leave the address and directions with your nurse. Silvia wanted to see you too when you got out. Is that all right?”

  More than all right. “Yes. And thanks.”

  Reegan rose to his feet and pressed a palm to the protective screen. “See you tomorrow.”

  *

  The transport skimmed the magtrack, rolling into the station before settling gently onto the platform. They’d been traveling at over two hundred miles per hour three seconds ago, but with the stabilizers engaged, the surface of Saul’s coffee didn’t even twitch when the deceleration sequence started.

  He double-checked the directions from the hospital to Reegan’s apartment. Public transport ran aboveground these days. Rising water levels had swallowed the subway of old. But Reegan’s notes were clear, and a lifetime of using the Metro had helped Saul adjust to the complex elevated system used in 2145. A map was a map. This was his stop.

  Despite that confidence, he stepped onto the platform feeling nervous and out of his element. Two weeks he’d been living in 2145, and he still felt unprepared for this first taste of freedom. A first taste that might be his last. He took a final swallow of his coffee, then tossed it in a nearby bin.

  This was the day they’d decide if he could stay or he’d be asked to return to the past. Whatever the decision, he’d have to abide by it. There was no running. No hiding. Not in this century. And what would be the point? A life here without Reegan would be no life anyway.

  The preliminary response to his request hadn’t been encouraging, casting a pall over the past few days. The only bright spot had been this opportunity to see Reegan. To touch him. Even if it was for the last time.

  The other people leaving the transport turned as one and walked toward a lighted archway at the end of the platform. Saul followed, stepping into the transparent-walled elevator that would carry him down to street level.