Losing Time (Lost Time, Book 1): A Time Travel Romantic Suspense Series

by Nicola Claire

  "Yes," Jack murmured.

  The Vehicle became very quiet.

  "Shall I send a probe?" Hoffman finally asked.

  "What colour's the sinusoid for their time?" Jack asked. Rafe entered a few commands, and the main screen changed, flickering from our pale blue sine wave to a bright International Orange.

  "Bloody fucking bollocks," Jack swore. "He's still there."

  "Then what's happened to Orion Two?" Sally asked, her voice several octaves higher.

  Her panic incited mine. I didn't even like Dr Fawkes that much. And Harding, well, I told myself I had no feelings whatsoever about that woman. Still, Groves seemed beside herself with worry. It rubbed off on me, making my breaths hitch and my heartbeat go wild.

  Jack flicked a look over his shoulder and frowned, then he turned back to the dashboard and announced, "Only one way to find out."

  His hand came down on a button. I hadn't seen it before, but it had a little plastic cover over it, as though to prevent inadvertently hitting it. The cover was already up, and Jack's hand found no resistance.

  "Bloody hell!" Rafe yelled. "Next time warn us!"

  Jack's eyes met mine and then did a quick scan of my seatbelt; making sure it was buckled?

  "Hold on," Rafe shouted. "This could get a little wild."

  Sally yelped, and everyone leant forward grabbing hold of the dashboard or whatever they could to secure themselves. My head flicked from side to side, trying to find something for me to grip. But my seat was off on its own, as if an afterthought. There was nothing for me to hold onto other than myself.

  I gripped the harness tightly, closed my eyes as the Vehicle filled up with that nebulous cloud. But still, I could see them. Stars. So many. So bright. Almost as if I could reach out and touch them. With my eyes closed, I extended one arm, fingers stretched, reaching for the impossible.

  The metal of the ship screeched.

  A whooshing noise surrounded us and then became a roar.

  My body jolted. First one way, then another. And then I got flung back in my seat as if the weight of God knows how many tonnes was pressed down on my chest and body.

  I lost consciousness then, as the silence of space engulfed us. Images of Carrie swam before my eyes. Interspersed with Jack Evans and Sergei. When I woke up the Vehicle was quiet, a soft ticking of its engines the only sound I could make out. I stretched. Felt the harness dig into me. And then blinked the fog from my eyes.

  Groves was still out, head lolling to the side. It didn't look comfortable. Hoffman was waking up slowly; the first words uttered not fit for young ears. And Jack was at my side.

  "Sorry," he murmured, releasing the seatbelt buckle. "A return trip is usually only used in extreme situations."

  "Uh-huh," I managed.

  He looked over his shoulder at a still unconscious Groves and a now irate Hoffman.

  "You did well," he whispered. "Groves probably won't wake up for another few minutes, and it took Rafe several months to manage a return to consciousness upon landing the first time he did this."

  "Why, the bloody fucking hell, would you use a Return?" Hoffman muttered. "I could have entered in the coordinates manually."

  "A swift flight seemed pertinent," Jack said, standing to full height. But not before his hand squeezed mine. And then vanished.

  He'd panicked, I realised. When he'd seen me panicking. A notion that didn't fit.

  What the hell was happening to us? I doubted Jack Evans had ever truly panicked before now. Exploded, yes. Acted on instinct without prior thought, no.

  I needed to know what those dreams meant. This was all linked to it somehow. I didn't know how that was possible, but it was. I was sure of it. I'd had two of them now. Last night's dream as real as the first. Jack. Me. Skin on skin. A desire I'd never experienced before in my life.

  It made me feel things. Think things. I wouldn't have contemplated otherwise.

  But knowing could be that one thing too much. The one thing that cut the tether. The one thing Jack was afraid of. That I was afraid of too.

  It was all mixed up. My emotions. This situation. Carrie.

  I was losing her, and still, I denied it.

  "Well, that sucked," Hoffman exclaimed, rising from his chair and crossing to Groves. He began checking her vitals.

  "We're here now," Jack said steadily. "And somewhere out there is Orion Two as well."

  "Somewhere out there is the Surgeon I used to know," Hoffman growled.

  "They could be in trouble," Jack persisted, ignoring Rafe's ire.

  "And we're not?" Hoffman demanded.

  Jack gave him a look that would have cowered a lesser man. Hoffman just grunted and gently slapped Groves on the cheek. Making the young woman startle awake, shouting, "Bryan!"

  Hoffman pulled back and slowly smiled.

  "Well, that explains that," he said.

  "What?" Groves squeaked back.

  "Why Bryan Fawkes palmed you off on us, Miss Groves," Jack replied with a sardonic smile.

  "Had any dreams lately?" Rafe asked with a wink.

  Sally's eyes darted everywhere but at her teammates. Then settled on me.

  Looks like I wasn't the only one. But somehow the knowledge didn't make it better.

  It just made it more real.

  Just What The Bloody Hell Was Sergei Playing At?

  Jack

  The streets were deserted this early. A golden glow making everything look surreal. My guard was up. My attention divided, but on point. Every nerve in my body on fire. If Sergei was here, he wasn't showing himself.

  We strolled along North Atlantic Ave, past the Holiday Inn and Ramon's. The sound of waves breaking on the shore drifted through the lush palm trees. The odd purr of a Chevy or Cadillac as it started interrupted the hypnotic flow. A bright sign ahead announced an upcoming visit by Barbara Eden. I knew the instant it caught Mimi's eye.

  "I used to watch I Dream Of Jeannie," she said quietly. No doubt in deference to the silent morning surrounding us. "Carrie and I dressed up as Jeannie and Major Nelson for a party once. She won the coin toss and got to wear a NASA uniform."

  To Mimi that would have been a win. I didn't dare tell her I would have much preferred her in Jeannie's outfit.

  "Where is he?" Groves growled under her breath. It was hard to tell if she meant Sergei or Bryan. Both elicited suitably volatile emotions.

  "Easy, Miss Groves," I murmured. "The Orion is close. Therefore the Lunik will be as well."

  "He's playing us, you know," Mimi said softly. "It's like walking into a trap."

  "In the jungle," Groves added. "Bloody hole dug in the soil and covered with leaves."

  I blinked down at the woman. She hadn't seemed the imaginative type. But then, a day or so with Mimi Wylde at your side did make a person start to dream.

  I stifled a snort. The dreams began well before Mimi arrived.

  "You said he'd come to us," Mimi murmured. "Where's a good place to be?"

  I glanced around the street we were on and spotted a diner. Public. Visible. And gave us a reason to be out and about this early. Cocoa Beach was not known for its early starters. A few people would be walking their dogs on the beach itself, but Rafe and I had decided that was too secluded. Everything we did on this flight was foreign. Every rule we broke seemed to make it harder to believe we'd mend this tear.

  The rip had already been large; now it was nearing catastrophic.

  "In there," I said, nodding towards Wolfie's.

  I crossed the street, checking in my periphery if we were being followed. Misses Groves and Wylde followed, neither looking particularly fashionable. They'd had to share the outfit for this era, stealing from the early sixties and seventies to hash together something that would make them both appropriately attired.

  Thankfully fashion was minimal in 1969 and getting shorter by the minute. Rafe had remained with the Orion. Not necessary, but a precaution we thought wise considering our opponent. I was sure Miss Groves was also wearing
part of his allotted outfit as well. The woman was proving quite adaptable.

  The door's bell dinged merrily as we entered. I glanced around, but Sergei wasn't in sight. Neither, unfortunately, was Bryan Fawkes. Worry dug itself deeper inside. I escorted the ladies to a table and ordered us all coffees as soon as the waitress arrived. She didn't blink once at my accent; that's why I hadn't bothered to hide it. British tourists were not an unknown commodity at Cocoa Beach in 1969.

  Kiwis, on the other hand, might well be.

  When the waitress departed, I said quietly, "Best if you don't talk, Miss Wylde."

  "Why not?" she asked. Of course, she did.

  I smiled. "You are neither British nor American. You stand out."

  "Perhaps that's a good thing," she argued.

  "Why on Earth would that be good?" I demanded.

  "An anomaly would attract attention," she explained as if to a child. "Don't we want to be noticed?"

  I hadn't looked at it like that. Everything we did when we travelled via Orion was done incognito. If history were changed by our presence, we'd be mending rips night and day. Ours adding to the already plentiful that occurred naturally. Not even considering the rips caused by the presence of those who flew with Sergei.

  So staying under the radar, as some of the Surgeons liked to call it, was imperative.

  But nothing about this particular flight was normal.

  "Perhaps you are right," I conceded. "Although how your accent could garner us the attention we're after is beyond me, right now."

  The waitress returned, and Mimi smiled up at her.

  "Thank you," she said, most enthusiastically I thought. "Have you worked here long?"

  Bloody hell, but when she decided something, she ran with it freely.

  Groves took a sip of her coffee and had the audacity to smirk at me over the rim. I raised an eyebrow, as the waitress answered.

  "Three months this Friday."

  "Oh, how exciting!" Mimi exclaimed. "So near the rockets. Have you seen any?"

  "There was a launch in May. Apollo 10."

  "Of course. Stafford, Young and Cernan. How wonderful," Mimi offered with a beaming smile.

  “Where’re you from, anyway?" The waitress asked, leaning against the bench seat, accepting the offer of conversation readily. There weren't too many people in here this early.

  "New Zealand," Mimi replied. "Have you heard of it?"

  I watched on in utter amazement as the waitress's eyes widened and she started pointing a finger at Mimi wildly.

  "Oh, I thought I'd heard your accent before."

  Bloody hell.

  "Actually, you look a lot like her."

  Mimi's face paled. Groves leant forward. I was too stunned to make a sound.

  "Like who?" Miss Groves asked.

  "Like the gal who was in here earlier. It's not you, is it?" She asked, looking back at Mimi.

  Mimi shook her head from side to side.

  "Did she say where she was staying?" Groves asked, as I leant over and slipped my hand into Mimi's.

  She didn't squeeze back.

  "Oh, no. Nothing like that. But the gentleman with her, he did say they'd be taking a look at the pier today. You know, you might just catch them. They wanted some pictures to take home of the sunrise. Be rather funny to come face to face with your doppelgänger."

  "Yes," Groves said, downing her coffee in record style and handing the woman a bill. "Splendid idea. Thank you."

  Groves pushed out of the bench seat and bustled the waitress off with a smile, and then leant down over Mimi.

  "Now or never, Mouse," she whispered, grabbing Mimi's free hand and tugging her upright.

  I followed, not sure what to say or do, completely astounded at Mimi's successful tactics.

  Utterly devastated at her current mood.

  "She's right, Miss Wylde," I said, finally finding my voice. "Time is of the essence."

  Literally.

  We tore out of the diner and headed toward the beach proper. My hand in Mimi's left one. Groves' in Mimi's right.

  "Don't flake out on me now, Miss Wylde," I urged. "Your sister needs you."

  It was a low blow, but she was spiralling. I'd seen it before in new Novitiates. Hell, Groves had probably done it on her first few flights. But Mimi didn't have the luxury of easing into this gently. There were things I could protect her from, but not this. Not the reality of time travel when lives were at stake and the threat was real.

  Carolyn Wylde was the key to fixing this mess. Mending a rip that had gone, well, quite wild.

  The Canaveral Pier rose out of the ground like a huge leviathan before us. Cutting a swathe through crystal clear waters, unheeding of the waves that crashed into its underside. A plethora of signs told us this was Cocoa Good Vibrations Beach and to get our gear from Ron Jon's Surfing Shop. Another sign brightly declared, "Good Luck, Astronauts."

  I thought that rather portent but chose not to comment. My attention split on our surroundings and Miss Wylde. That's why I missed it. That's why she was there one minute and gone the next. Mimi's outstretched hand the only indication she'd been there, to begin with.

  That and her strangled shout of "Sally!"

  Miss Groves flickered in a cloud of red and blue and yellow and then disappeared in a burst of starlight. A Lunik shot past, the sound of it surfing the sine wave this close to us deafening.

  I pulled Mimi down to the boards of the pier and shielded her with my body. Silence descended. That of space and shock intertwined. And then the roar of waves as they crescendoed, crashing into the underside of the pier beneath our cheeks.

  "No!" Mimi whispered.

  Bloody fucking bollocks! I wanted to shout.

  And then a small voice said, "Mouse?"

  And Mimi was up out of my grasp and running along the pier at an alarming pace, arms outstretched, a cry of elation on her lips before I could stop her.

  "Miss Wylde!" I yelled, and realised much too late that it should have been, "Misses Wylde."

  Just what the bloody hell was Sergei playing at?

  Forgive An Old Man His Quirks?

  Mimi

  It was her. Really her. I held my sister in my arms.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks, as we jumped up and down, clinging to each other, laughing. Dear God, I'd found her. I'd got her back. I was never letting her go again.

  "I have to tell you something," she said.

  "Oh, boy! Have I got so much to tell you," I threw back.

  "No really," she said. "There's not much time."

  "Damn, sister. We can make time!"

  Carrie laughed. It was achingly familiar, so full of sunshine. She punched me playfully on the upper arm.

  "You're such a goof! What have you done with my sister? Mouse! Mousey! Where are you?" she shouted at full volume.

  "Carolyn Wylde, I have missed you."

  She threw herself into my arms again and hugged me tightly. For a moment I felt scared. I don't know why. Carrie's hugged me before. Many times.

  But not like this. Not as if saying goodbye.

  "Caz?" I whispered, using the name I gave her when just a child.

  She clung tighter.

  "You know I love you, don't you, Mouse?" she said gruffly.

  "Of course."

  "You know I'd do anything for you."

  "The feeling's mutual, squirt."

  She sniffed, pulled back and looked at me. So much love staring back I just sighed.

  "We have to go home," I finally said and her face shuttered.

  "Home," she repeated, her voice was flat. "I'm not sure where home is anymore. It's all a lie."

  I frowned. She wasn't making sense.

  Then I heard a footfall behind me.

  "Carrie, I want you to meet someone." I turned and caught Jack's eye. He didn't look happy. In fact, I was sure that was his weapon drawn down by his thigh.

  Carrie took a step backwards, towards the end of the pier, causing me to swing my gaze back t
o her abruptly.

  "You can't trust him, Mouse," she said quickly. "Don't believe a word he says."

  "Carrie," I chastised. "This is Dr Jack Evans."

  "I know who he is, better than you, clearly. I know who he works for."

  "What are you talking about?" My head swung between them both, but Jack wasn't giving anything away, and Carrie was just scaring me.

  "Go home, Mouse," she said. "I've got this."

  "Carrie."

  "For once in your life let me be the responsible one. Let me take care of you."

  "You've always taken care of me," I argued. Lately, it had been Carrie who'd pulled me through.

  "Not like this. Not like you used to."

  "Carrie, you're not making any sense at all."

  Her eyes drifted off me and settled on Jack.

  "A show of good faith," she said. "A reminder that Lunik is far superior."

  Holy effing hell, what the...?

  "The message?" Jack asked. Did he get this? Did he know what was wrong with my sister?

  "You have one week," Carrie said. I started to hyperventilate. "If RATS isn't disbanded by then, the next one we'll keep."

  "Carrie," I said, my voice pleading.

  "I love you, Mouse. Remember."

  "Carolyn Wylde, you stop this, right now."

  She just smiled. "Thatta girl, Mouse," she whispered with stars in her eyes.

  No, not in her eyes, but everywhere, as a nebula-like cloud billowed behind.

  "Carrie!" I yelled, taking a step towards the maelstrom.

  "Go home, Mouse. For fuck's sake, just go home! Please!"

  It was the please that stopped me, not the bands of steel wrapped 'round my chest. Not Jack yelling in my ear to "Don't go!" But Carrie. Pleading with me to stay. To let her go.

  And go home myself.

  "No!" I screamed. I wouldn't lose her. Not now. Not again. Not by choice.

  "She's gone," Jack said softly, the silence of space evaporating on each word. "She's picked her side. She's chosen."

  I pushed out of his embrace and ran to the end of the pier, only to trip over someone who hadn't been there.

  "Oomph!" Sally Groves moaned beneath me. "You weigh a tonne."

  "Sally," I said, stunned. "Where is she?" I demanded, gripping her shoulders tightly.