“Oh, no,” Moira hurried to answer, embarrassed at the heat that flushed through her body. “Do, please. I want to see him.”
“Well then, you get yourself washed and dressed, and eat a good breakfast, then we’ll see about taking you to join them. They’re all workin’ on the Project, and Mister Ned has left instructions you’re to assist as soon as you’re able. Will that suffice?”
Moira’s heart seemed to soar, and she provided Sheila with a giddy smile. “Yes, it will. I feel fine, truly. I’ll dress right away.”
She turned to the loo and found she could indeed walk without pain. When she reached the door, Sheila gave a satisfied nod and turned on her heel, with a promise to be right back with breakfast.
Dr. Mullweather stopped in as Moira finished eating. He checked the surgical site, and pronounced himself pleased at the condition of the tiny holes. As Sheila covered them with a fresh bandage, Dr. Mullweather gave Moira final instructions.
“Ned wants you helping on the project, and I think you’re good to go. I want you in a comfortable chair, with your feet up most of the time. Every hour or so, you should walk around for ten minutes. Continue eating soft foods for today. I think tomorrow you can start on a regular diet. No running or active exercises for a week or so.” He dropped his Pad in the pocket of his lab coat, then leaned down to peer at her ear. “That’s healing nicely. I can’t replace the Nu-skin, but it’s not a bad job. This ear should match the other one pretty well.”
“’Course it will,” Sheila said, patting Moira’s shoulder. “Your Mr. Green did a fine job of it.”
“Speaking of Mr. Green,” Dr. Mullweather said as he turned to go, “he’s waiting for you at Sheila’s desk. He can take you to where they’re working, whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now.” Moira tried not to look as if she were scrambling to her feet, even though that’s what it felt like. Dr. Mullweather winked at Sheila while he held the door open for Moira.
Sheila’s desk was in an open space down the hall to Moira’s right. She recognized the double doors on the other side of the desk as the place they’d brought her for the procedure. Andy sat in a chair, frowning at his Pad. When he heard her steps, he glanced up, and the frown turned right-side up as he stood. She stopped a few feet away and held her arms out to her sides.
“All better,” she announced, and watched, fascinated, as his expression morphed into an even bigger smile that nevertheless seemed to be holding back tears.
“I should never have left you alone,” he said.
“You had no choice in the matter. In the end, we made it.” She glanced around, seeing Sheila and Dr. Mullweather talking quietly near her room, the small infirmary, with its one operating theater and a few supplies, wonder building within her. “We really made it,” she said, and laughed. “I’m free. Dr. Mullweather said I was supposed to help with some project.”
Andy nodded. “I’ll take you. It’s this way.”
She waved to Sheila, who lifted a hand in return, then she caught up with Andy. “Are the ... um ... travelers ... still here?”
“Yes. They’re helping us.”
“Helping us with what? Why are they here? What happened yesterday? Tell me everything.”
“It’s a long story, but I’ll give you the broad outline while we walk.” He turned and she followed, thankful that he matched his pace to hers. “The guards found a chip in Sarah’s pocket that contained information about a plan to blow up NISS. We think a woman at Sun slipped the chip in there, knowing we were trying to escape. It turns out she’s given information to the rebels before. So she’s on our side. Helped us escape, actually.”
“That was lucky,” Moira said, then shook her head. “But blow up NISS? Why? Are you saying someone at Sun is doing that?”
“Yeah,” Andy said. “It looks like a plot to insinuate the rebels. If the world’s population thinks the rebels have done that, they would all approve Sun’s taking over the station.”
Moira closed her eyes. “More control.”
“Exactly. Ned plans to stop them, using Sam’s machine. That’s what we’re working on. For now,” he finished up, “we’re waiting to hear from Wilbur Arkady, who heads civilian operations on NISS. He’s really a rebel operative. Sam and Sarah are helping me build a prototype copy of CERBO, so we have the technology even after they leave. You’re going to help with that.”
He paused next to a closed office door and grinned in self-conscious pride. “Sam says I would have had it figured out in five or ten years anyway. He couldn’t understand why we hadn’t done it already, because the original Sam Altair had written many papers on his work. They’ve all been suppressed somehow, probably by Sun, after that first time travel accident in 2006. It turns out that book you gave me for a graduation present is quite the rare find. As it is, I’ve been making discoveries that Sun knew about a hundred years ago, which is simply maddening.”
“But why didn’t they build more machines themselves?” Moira asked.
“We don’t know.” Andy opened the door and waved Moira through. “Sam thinks that at first they were just covering their tracks, but then they got caught up in the global catastrophes same as everyone else. And at the time, they didn’t know what else the technology would be good for.”
The conference room Moira stepped into was a hive of activity. Its large table was littered with machinery, computers, communication equipment, tea and coffee mugs, and a tray of sandwiches. Moira recognized Sarah at the left end of the table, and she shyly returned her smile. At the other end, Sam Altair was heads-together with a tall blond man Andy said was his friend, Pete. Neither of them looked up as she and Andy entered. A vid screen covered the wall behind them, showing NISS in its orbit.
In the center of the room behind the table, Karen stood by a virtual map of the interior of NISS, which hovered in the air in front of her. She was wearing hologram gear, walking through and around the display as she murmured into the mike attached to her goggles.
Moira followed Andy to Sarah’s end of the table and slid into the empty chair, while Andy went to collect another chair from around the table. He surprised Moira by placing it next to hers and lifting her feet to rest on its seat.
“Doctor’s orders, remember?” he said. His face was troubled, although he smiled and spoke in a teasing tone.
Moira nodded, determined to not make him feel any worse. “Thank you.”
“How are you feeling now?” Sarah asked.
“Much better,” Moira told her. “I guess I had a couple of small tears in my stomach, which were bleeding. Dr. Mullweather sealed them, and he’s given me a morphine patch. So I feel fine.”
Sarah laughed and Andy brought another chair over for his own seat. He also handed Moira her Pad. “We’re working in the file labeled Andrews, which I’ve downloaded for you,” he said.
“We don’t know how much time we have,” Sarah said. “So I want to make sure we leave all the information you will need to build your own machines. If we have time and the proper facilities, we’ll begin work on an actual prototype.”
“Okay.” Moira accessed the file, which displayed several folders. Not knowing which one to open, she glanced up at Sarah, who smiled in an apologetic way.
“There is a discrete difference between the neutrinos in our respective universes. This may have been what was confusing you when you were working on the equations yesterday. The neutrinos change when we attempt time travel, which is what creates a new universe.” She gestured to Moira’s Pad. “Our equations will work once we’ve accounted for the difference. Andy says you’re a whiz at that kind of thing, so that’s your assignment. It’s all in the folder labeled Neutrino Delta. Have at it, and shout out if you have any questions.”
An hour passed, with nothing more eventful than occasional murmurs. A young boy brought in a new pot of tea, which they all ignored. Moira remembered she needed to walk around, and Sarah wandered out with her.
Moira forced the jumb
le of equations to the back of her mind, to focus on a different concern. “After you and Sam get back home,” she said, as Sarah matched her slow pace down the hall, “will you want to restrict travel between our universes? I wouldn’t blame you if you try to do it,” she added quickly as Sarah pursed her lips. “To prevent Sun from sending an invasion force.”
Sarah lifted a shoulder. “Sam and I talked about it last night. Of course, we have no idea how it could be done, but I ... we ... think it might be necessary to try.” She stared at the floor, her expression disturbed. “It occurred to both of us that Feldman, and others perhaps, may want to use our world as a refuge.” She touched Moira’s shoulder. “We might be willing to help in that way. But you realize that three billion people cannot all move into our world.”
“Of course not,” Moira said. “That would destroy your planet as thoroughly as this one. That’s one of the things I was worried about. No,” she shook her head, “if there’s no way to prevent interdimensional travel, then both worlds will need to set up controls. And I’m afraid our politicians will want to do all the controlling.”
“Which is another reason Sam and I are helping you here. I don’t know if the rebel alliance will do any better governing your world, but it’s obvious that the current system cannot stand. If we can assist in ... changing ... your government, perhaps that can only help us.”
Moira blew a breath out in a half laugh. “Saving the space station is about all I can concentrate on, at the moment.”
Sarah laughed. “One step at a time, I guess.”
Ahead of them, Ned rounded the corner and came toward them with quick steps. He crooked a finger without slowing. “Come with me.”
They sent each other bewildered looks, but turned and followed Ned back to the conference room. He slapped his hands together, getting everyone’s attention as he continued to the side of the room, snagging the communications remote as he went. Three clicks and the wall screen switched its display from the orbiting space station to a recorded program. Ned stared at it and the others followed his lead, uncertain of what else they were supposed to do.
A news program was in progress, the bespectacled announcer staring with earnest concern into the camera as he talked. “Belfast garda are searching for a young woman who has gone missing from her Chelmsford enclave.”
Moira closed her eyes in slow horror when her recent school photograph displayed on the screen. She felt Sarah shift next to her, then place a hand across her shoulders. She opened her eyes, but fixed them on the screen. She didn’t dare look at Andy.
“Moira Sherman was reported missing two days ago, by her stepfather, Reverend Cyrus Sherman, who heads the enclave. Investigators have now revealed a shocking development: she may have been kidnapped by a trusted teacher, Mr. Andrew Green, of Oxford.”
“Oh no,” Moira murmured, as Andy’s teacher photo appeared next to hers on the screen.
“As a welfare student at Oxford University, Mr. Green was assigned to teach at Strickert Academy for Girls, also in Oxford. He was recently employed by Sun Corporation, in their student-assistant program. He was sent, two days ago, to the Belfast office of Sun Headquarters. Investigators believe he kidnapped Miss Sherman before leaving for Belfast. Her stepfather reported evidence of a violent altercation in his home, and believes his daughter tried to resist her kidnapper. They are concerned she might be injured, and indeed, in these surveillance photos taken on the air-train, she appears to be drugged and lethargic.”
On cue, a video started, showing Moira swaying unsteadily in a train car, as Andy guided her to a seat. Moira had to admit she looked pretty bad, despite the careful preparation she’d given to her appearance that day. She was surprised that Security had even let her through. From the corner of her eye, she saw Andy shaking his head.
“In an ominous twist,” the announcer continued, “Sun has just reported that Mr. Green has vanished from his assigned location, absconding with vital, and irreplaceable, Sun property. They now suspect he is working with Ned O’Malley’s Rebel Alliance, and Sun has joined in this investigation. Miss Sherman remains missing, and is believed to be a prisoner of the Belfast rebel cell. We are joined now by Reverend Sherman, the missing girl’s stepfather.”
Moira felt her chin come up in defiance at the sight of her stepfather. She was grateful for Sarah’s steady presence beside her, and wondered if she might have to be the first person to request asylum from Sarah’s free world.
The reporter asked, “Mr. Sherman, how does your stepdaughter fit into this? It seems strange that Mr. Green would call attention to himself by kidnapping her, just before he steals vital property from his employer.”
Moira shuddered as Cyrus’ voice filled the room. “I doubt she has anything to do with it, sir. It appears that Andrew Green worships the baser sins of human nature, giving in to the temptation of female flesh. It is possible that his appointed welfare representative made a serious error by placing him at a school for girls. Someone so young, and alone in the world, would have no resistance to such a strong pull of Satan. Women cannot always control their evil natures, as Eve demonstrated so clearly for us. I hoped my daughter would be safe at Strickert, with no unchaperoned exposure to men or boys. I was mistaken.”
“So you think the events are unrelated?”
“I think that, with his employment at Sun, Andrew Green knew he would no longer have access to young girls, and perhaps to my daughter, specifically. I think he kidnapped her in a moment of extreme weakness and evil desire. He then continued with his rebel assignment, and my daughter ...” his voice broke, and Moira shook her head as he rubbed an eye, “ ... my daughter must be dead to us, now. I believe she tried to resist, but God’s law is clear: she must be put to death. I only pray that Mr. Green will be brought to justice, as well.”
The announcer responded with an appropriate murmur of sympathy. The image of Moira’s stepfather went away, replaced with the front quad at Strickert, and the announcer continued. “Amanda Spencer-Lionel, Headmistress at Strickert, insists that her students are properly chaperoned at all times. However, investigators have received reports that a clandestine relationship may have existed between teacher and student. They allowed our reporter to talk to one student.”
A video replaced the announcer, showing a reporter sitting next to a girl in a Strickert uniform. The girl’s back was to the camera, but Moira knew beyond any doubt that it was Grace.
“You were close to the kidnapped girl?” the reporter asked.
“Yes. We were friends.” The words were garbled, as if Grace were speaking with food in her mouth.
“To your knowledge, was there anything unusual about her relationship with Mr. Green?”
“She ... liked him. All the girls knew it. They called her Teacher’s Pet. Not me. But some of the other girls.”
“Did she tell you she liked him?”
“Yes, she did.”
Moira groped for the chair behind her, and she sank slowly onto it. Grace was lying.
“Did she ever say that Mr. Green returned her feelings? Did he do or say anything inappropriate?”
Grace was silent for a few seconds, her head hanging down. Then she whispered, “Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Miss. You’ll need to speak up.”
“Yes.” Stronger, this time. She lifted her head. “He often had her in his office after hours. She was his T.A. He wanted her to ... do things. She was afraid not to.” Grace’s voice broke and she half-turned to the reporter, as if begging her to understand. Her profile revealed the shading of a bruise and a massively swollen lip. Moira held a hand to her own mouth as she watched, tasting tears and horror.
The reporter was gentle. “What things, Miss? Did she tell you what he wanted?”
Tears tracked the bruised cheek, and Grace shook her head, turning away so they saw only her back again. “Please don’t make me say it again.”
“Why didn’t you report it?”
Grace glanced at the reporter. “Wh
at?” A shadow of movement came from the side, away from the camera’s sight, and Grace looked that way, uncertain.
“Why didn’t you tell the Headmistress what you knew?” The reporter spoke quickly, but her lips tightened as she followed Grace’s gaze to the side. She touched Grace’s shoulder. “Never mind. You’re upset, so I won’t bother you any longer. Thank you for speaking with me.”
The announcer came back, promising to keep everyone updated. Ned flicked the screen off.
Moira stared at Andy, who returned her gaze, his face pale, and his jaw clenched so tightly, it had to hurt. She could see that he wanted to ask. She knew he wouldn’t.
“I never told Grace any of those things,” she said. He had to believe her. “Did you see her? They beat her, Andy.” Her chest heaved in a great sob. “They hurt her and it’s my fault. She’s ruined now. And the Lioness ... the school ...”
Andy knelt beside her. She saw her guilt mirrored in his eyes. “Yes, I saw. I know you would never tell her such things.”
“Now why,” Ned said, his voice softly threatening, “would they go to the trouble of doctoring the story?”
Andy stood, glancing first at Pete, who just raised a brow. He turned to Ned, who held out a hand to stop him.
“Tell me first, what part of the story is true?”
“The part about Grace and me being friends,” Moira said. She stood, to add her support to Andy.
Ned regarded Moira for several seconds before turning back to Andy. “Is that what you say, too?”
Andy was silent, as if thinking through the broadcast. Everyone watched him. Moira knew she wouldn’t be able to draw a breath until he spoke. At last he nodded.
“Yes. That, and the information about my background. I was a welfare student, I was appointed to teach at Strickert, and I was just hired by Sun two days ago.” He glanced at Moira. “I think it’s obvious that we have feelings for each other. But it’s not the vulgar, ugly thing they are saying it is.” He met Ned’s gaze with steady eyes. “Everything else is conjecture and outright lies.”
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