Bridgebuilders

by Marlene Dotterer

  This corner was the closest she could find to a blind spot for the room’s sensors. It wasn’t perfect, but with the tablet providing both cover and excuse, she had a few minutes to fiddle with the remote she had palmed after they’d let her exercise in a workout room down the hall. The room’s camera would show her back, but as long as she took a bite or sip once in a while, and read occasionally, the guard wouldn’t bother to check on her.

  Her cursory inspection of the medical equipment which they had used to examine her, and of the machines in the gym, convinced her their energy substrate functioned on solar or fusion power. Their hardware used a similar encoding technology to what was used in her own timeline. Since there were only a limited number of ways to talk to a computer, she was fairly confident that she could get on friendly terms with the AI running this feckin’ nightmare. She just needed to reach the heart of the bloody thing using a simple machine that could do little more than talk to a virtual hydro-planer.

  A wire she had wiggled out of the bed frame became a low-tech sensor used to probe the guts of the remote. Fifteen minutes into her surreptitious dinner, she’d managed to hack into the security system far enough to display a list on her computer’s screen, showing the names of anyone in the hallway. So far, the only name on the list belonged to her guard. Well and good.

  Opening a separate window, she urged the remote to expand its range and let her code-bunny search where it wanted, then display the information in map form. Her bunny was blocked by the system’s firewall, showing on her screen as a gremlin holding a shield. She instructed the bunny to give the gremlin a candy code, one her systems at home found irresistible. The gremlin, having never been exposed to it, instantly became the bunny’s best mate, stepping aside to let it move further into the system. She left it a trickle of code to play with in reward.

  Her map grew, showing her the entire wing which housed her, then growing to show the floors above and below. She saw the narrow shaft for the lifts, then blinked in shock when the name “A. Feldman” appeared in the lift, moving downward. Her fingers froze as the name stopped moving at her floor, then proceeded through the hallway toward her room.

  Her mind refused to think, but her body moved with automatic urgency, reverting her computer back to dumb terminal status, and stowing the remote and wire inside her bra. They’d find it easily if they looked, but Sarah knew they’d find it no matter where in the room she hid it, if they had a reason to look for it. Had the system reported her?

  She leaned on an upraised arm, staring at her computer while her other hand lazily twirled her fork in the spaghetti strands on her plate. A deep breath helped her school her features to boredom, but slowed her pounding heart only a little. Still, she managed to glance up in wary nonchalance when her door opened. She even registered the right amount of surprise and dismay as Feldman entered with the guard. She stood, sending the guard a questioning glance. Good acting, Andrews, she told herself. Just remember to breathe.

  Feldman gestured toward her food. “I apologize for interrupting your dinner. Please, continue eating while we talk.”

  “Wouldn’t be good for my digestion,” Sarah said. As if he cared that he’d interrupted her dinner! She slid around the table and sat on the edge of her bed, leaving the chair for Feldman if he decided to sit.

  He did, bringing the chair to the front of the table in an unhurried manner. This put him just a few feet away from her. He seemed perfectly at ease, one foot resting on the opposite knee. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a computer chip, turning it in lazy circles between his fingers. He had blue eyes, and despite his polite demeanor, they regarded her with a cold inner light. Sarah suppressed a shiver, but could not look away from the chip he held. It looked like CERBO’s neutrino alteration chip.

  “Dr. Altair tells me,” he said, “that your CERBO will not work in this universe, due to a difference in neutrinos. I’m curious as to what this chip does. I found it tucked away in a separate compartment of CERBO’s case.”

  He stopped talking, his gaze on her as if it were her turn to talk. She tightened her lips and looked away. Sam’s statement was not true, of course. CERBO would work just fine in the universe, but she trusted that Sam had a reason he wanted Feldman to think otherwise. Had Feldman already asked Sam about the chip? If so, what had Sam told him about it? What was her part?

  When she remained silent, Feldman continued. “In the morning, Dr. Altair will begin working with some of our staff, to build a new machine that will work in this universe. Its application for instantaneous travel is remarkable. I’m sure you understand how helpful the device could be if applied to movement around the globe.”

  “I do, of course,” she said, trying to avoid saying anything that would contradict Sam’s story. She nodded to the chip in his hand. “We can’t do anything without that chip, though. You’ll have to give it back.”

  He smiled, and she could tell he didn’t believe her. Bollocks. What had Sam told him?

  “I’ll hold onto it for now,” he said. “We’ll see how far you can progress without it.”

  She decided to bring up what was basically a meaningless topic. “You must realize that we didn’t build CERBO for travel within a single universe. When we direct neutrino action, there’s a counter-reaction somewhere, and you have to compensate for that if you stay in the same universe.”

  Feldman tilted his head in acknowledgement. “It’s one of the things Altair is going to help us with.” He leaned forward. “What I want to know, is what part you play in all this. Altair tries to pass you off as a tourist. A granddaughter dutifully fulfilling her grandmother’s last wish. But you’re more than that, aren’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come now, Miss Andrews. We have all the equipment and belongings you brought with you. That includes a fascinating photo album showcasing your grandmother’s life in the second timeline. It also shows you working alongside Altair and others, as they build these machines. In fact, it’s obvious that you are the genius behind the hardware. I would be remiss if I did not request your assistance with our project.”

  Sarah fought the urge to put more distance between them by sliding further back on the bed. To appear weak would put her even more in his power. “Request, is it? Are you suggesting I have a choice?”

  There was no humor in his smile. “Of course you have a choice.” He turned his head, eyes taking in details of the tiny, windowless room, before settling once more on her. “Has it occurred to you that no one knows you are here? As far as anyone in this world knows, you and Sam Altair do not exist. No one will question your disappearance or ever ask about you. Your stay in this room can last as long as you do, Miss Andrews.”

  “That’s my choice?”

  He lifted a shoulder in casual acknowledgment.

  Sarah glared at him. “Why? What is it you want us to do for you? Surely, if you put your resources into it, your own people can figure this out in time.”

  “That is not your concern,” he said. “All you need to know is that if you cooperate, you and Altair can return home. Obviously, I can’t give you a timeframe, but when we have what we need, you’ll be free to go.”

  “You want us to help you do a bloody immoral thing, with our freedom as the price? You’re a monster.”

  He laughed. “Immoral? Your very presence here is an abomination to the natural order of the universe, and a specific attack on our sovereign rights to our world. You are lucky we don’t simply have you executed with due diligence.” He leaned forward, eyes burning with intense feeling. “But we are merciful. Come, Miss Andrews. Do you really want to spend your life in this room? Or do you want to return home to hearth and loved ones?”

  He stood and Sarah blinked up at him, confused and wary. “I will instruct your guard to escort you to your laboratory tomorrow,” he said. “Your cooperation, or lack of it, is up to you.”

  He stepped toward the door and Sarah cringed as a desperate longing pierced her.
“Dr. Feldman ...”

  He paused at the door and turned to face her. “Yes?”

  “My grandmother’s journal. I want it back.”

  His eyebrows rose. “I have use for it, at the moment.”

  “Please.” She stood, but made no other move as the guard came to tense attention. She kept her eyes on Feldman’s face. “It’s all I have left of her. Did you not have a grandmother? Can you understand? Promise you’ll return it to me.”

  He watched her through narrowed eyes, giving no hint of his thoughts. Sarah held her breath and waited.

  He nodded to the guard, who pressed a button on his belt. Behind Feldman, the door slid open but he continued to watch Sarah. Finally he spoke. “Naturally, I had a grandmother.” There was no emotion in his voice, but he dipped his head. “Once I have no other use for the journal, it will be returned to you.”

  Sarah waited until he and the guard walked out, and the door slid closed behind them. She let her breath out in an explosive whoosh, then stepped to the little table, picked up her dinner plate, and hurled it with all her strength at the door.

  Chapter 21

  Andy took a grateful sip of Guinness, his brain whirling from the demo at Sun. With an effort, he dismissed its wonders, and tried to concentrate on the large man who sat across the table from him. The man he hoped would put him in touch with the rebels. He grinned.

  “It’s great to see you, Pete. How are you and Karen liking it here?”

  “We’re keeping busy.” Pete tossed back a gulp of his own brew and lounged back on the small, fragile pub chair. It squeaked in protest, and his blue eyes danced with amusement as he returned Andy’s grin. “Karen’s job seems all right, and I’m getting on with my profs well enough. It’s a good program at Queen’s. Too bad you decided to stay at Oxford.”

  Andy shrugged. “Also a good program.” He leaned forward, too distracted to stick with small talk. “Listen, I’m afraid I don’t have much time. I’ll have to grab dinner to take with me. I hope I can spend more time with you later, but I’m wondering if you can help me with something.”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I have a friend who needs treatment for an injury.” Andy kept his hands on the table, and lifted one finger in caution. “I need a doctor who is willing to go off the grid.”

  Pete’s eyes flickered in momentary seriousness, then his relaxed public expression was back, and he raised his glass for another sip. “It’s harder here, than in Oxford,” he said, his voice soft, but still loud enough so that it didn’t look like they were talking in whispers. “Security’s tighter. The risks are greater.”

  “Please, Pete.” Andy covered his anxiety in his lifted glass. “This is important. Can you point me to someone?”

  “I’ll have to ask,” Pete said. “Ask around, that is. How urgent is this? Life-threatening? Minor?”

  “I don’t know for certain.” Andy stared into the dark depths of Guinness. “It’s not minor, I’ll say that. It doesn’t seem to be life-threatening yet. But I’m worried it could be.”

  “If I get back to you tomorrow, is that all right?”

  Andy nodded.

  Pete’s forehead creased. “I assume it’s someone in Belfast. Do I know him?”

  Andy hesitated. “It might be best if I don’t say.”

  “To me? Come on, Andy.”

  “For your sake. And Karen’s.”

  Pete stared at him. Andy met his gaze with a twitch of his brows and another swallow of Guinness. Then he shook his head and raised his hand to signal the waitress to bring Pete another glass. “Wait,” he told Pete, “there’s more. I’m just not sure how to phrase this.”

  Pete shrugged. “Any way you want. I can take it.”

  Andy smiled at that. “The doctor needs to treat her off the grid, as I said. But she needs a safe place to stay. She can’t go back to Oxford.”

  Pete shook his head, but said nothing as the waitress dropped off his new glass, took the empty, and brushed a cloth over the still-clean tabletop.

  When she left, Andy jumped in before Pete could speak. “She’ll more than make up for the trouble, I promise. She can run circles around any physicist you pit her against, and she wants to help. This is essential, Pete. She needs to be someplace safe. You know what I’m asking.”

  “Christ’s balls, Andy.”

  “You have to help me, mate.” Andy allowed his desperation to show. “I’ll muck around by myself on the streets trying to find a contact, if you don’t. I can’t just do nothing, and I won’t rest until she’s safe. You’re my best bet.”

  Pete rubbed at a scratch on the table, his mouth pursed in thought. When he looked up, he was smiling again. Andy couldn’t tell if it was the public act, or if Pete was really amused about something.

  “You’ve always dabbled,” Pete said. The smile remained in place, but his voice was serious. “You’re on our side, and you’ve helped when you could. But you’ve always put your career first, refusing to go too far or do too much for us. Now you’re even working for Sun, when you know they’re behind every miserable mess in the world.”

  He lifted his glass and tilted it in Andy’s direction. “If you ask for this, mate, you’ll have to pay for it. The girl too, whoever she is, especially if she’s as smart as you say. But you,” he paused for a drink, “you will have to make a choice. Once and for all.”

  Andy had no doubt about his answer. “I’m in, Pete.” He met Pete’s gaze with a firm expression. “My life for hers. Whatever it takes.”

  “That’s good, Andy. Because there are things happening at Sun, and they’re right up your alley.” Pete leaned over the table. “Start by telling me what you’ve been hired to do.”

  ~~~

  Moira moved the hairbrush in slow strokes, her movements timed to keep the pain in her stomach to a minimum. It felt best when she did not move at all, but she was determined to look decent when Andy returned. She had shuffled to the loo, managing a careful shower while avoiding the glaring bruise that covered her midsection. Now, freshly clothed in her own sweat shirt and pants, she sat tailor-fashion on the bed and attempted to bring order to hair tangled by wind, and sleeping on trains and hotel pillows.

  When the brush at last flowed unimpeded through her hair, she set it on the bed next to her, and with slow, ginger movements, shifted until she was leaning against the headboard, with a pillow held over her stomach by upraised knees. She didn’t dare check the Feinberger to see if her activity had increased the rate of bleeding. More pain medication would be nice, but Andy had said there was just one dose left. Best wait to see if he was able to get more. She might have to ration out what they had.

  Distraction, that’s what she needed. Her Pad was within reach, so after taking a slow breath, she pulled it to her, letting it lay on the upraised pillow. She brought up Andy’s Belfast data and put herself to work.

  She’d only been at it a few minutes when the beep of the door lock sounded. Her pulse sped up despite her pain as Andy entered, a bag of food in his hand. Whatever happened, she was here with him. She would never have dared dreamed of such a possibility.

  He smiled, not quite hiding his anxious expression. “Are you feeling better?” He placed the bag on the nightstand, but remained standing, watching her with suppressed tension. She couldn’t tell if he was excited or anxious. Perhaps both.

  “A little,” she said, not quite sure if that were true. “I could use more pain meds, but wanted to make sure you found more.”

  He nodded, his fingers brushing a soft flutter on her forehead. He searched her face with concern evident in his eyes.”I picked up a few doses, but try to eat something first. I brought you some soup and crackers.” He pulled containers from the bag, removing the paper lid from a cup and handing her the soup and a spoon. The comforting aroma of thyme-scented broth told her that she was hungry, and she ignored her sore muscles to hold the cup and take a sip. Her stomach protested, so she waited before trying any more. Best take her time. />
  Andy took his own cup to the little desk by the door, turning the chair so that he faced Moira. He stirred the soup with moody thoughtfulness, not eating. Moira watched him.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He glanced up as if he’d forgotten she was there, then shook his head. “Not wrong, exactly,” he said. “I’m just worried about you.” He finally lifted the spoon to his mouth, and Moira took another cautious sip of hers.

  “At Oxford,” he said, “I knew people with connections to the rebels. I had one or two dealings with them myself, but nothing very big. I thought I’d be able to connect with someone here, but their security is tighter than at Oxford.” His jaw tensed as he gazed at her, his face creased with worry.

  “That makes sense,” Moira said. “Oxford is a peaceful hamlet of learning. Belfast has been a hotbed of rebellion for centuries. They take it seriously here, and they know what they’re doing.”

  “That’s true,” Andy said. “And with Sun headquartered here, they have to be even more careful. But we’ve got to get you over to them before we’re caught.” He tapped his spoon against the cup rim. “I have two good friends who moved to Belfast a couple of years ago. They did some work with the rebels in Oxford, and I’m sure they’re doing the same thing here. I was hoping to not get them involved, but they’re the best ones to help us. So I contacted Pete.”

  “I don’t want to get more people in trouble,” Moira said, but her heart wasn’t in it. Her stomach was a constant dull ache, and she felt weak and tired no matter how much she slept. The Feinberger’s advice was right. She needed medical treatment.

  Andy was ready to take advantage of her ambivalence. “I’ll do whatever I need to, Moira. You need help. I thought I could take care of you, but I can’t. Not alone. It won’t take long for hotel security to realize you’re here. Another day, perhaps two.” He gave a decisive nod. “I’ve already talked with Pete. That won’t look suspicious, in fact, it would look odd if I didn’t contact him. We grew up in the same village, we’ve been friends all our lives. I stood up with him when he married Karen.”