A Different Time

by Donna Steele

  Leonard’s eyes popped. “You’ve been with nine hundred women?”

  “No! 1-900 . . . never mind. It’s a family joke.” Were there really no 1-900 sex lines anymore? He’d not thought to investigate that.

  “I’m sure Dee thinks it’s hysterical. Are you going to check this Angie out?”

  “I guess I’ll have to. At least she can’t just knock on the door. She doesn’t know where I live now.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Angie. The name popped into Dee’s head as she washed up from her latest procedure. Dusty’s ping from the woman seemed to be a complete surprise to him. She didn’t doubt it. Hell, she had no memory of her own stepfather, but a woman contacting him raised questions she’d never asked.

  Could he answer them? For all that “I’m not good with people” thing, the man was a hunk. She’d seen how Gail and Nancy had scoped him out. Did it count if he didn’t remember any other women? It hadn’t happened, just as Roger had never abused her in this time line. That line of thought could lead to a big-time headache.

  Dusty hadn’t seemed disturbed when she’d mentioned Harry Grogan, so why was she thinking about this Angie?

  And why was she so uneasy today? She had no reason to be disturbed about Angie.

  A good night’s sleep with no nightmares should cure me.

  ~ ~ ~

  After a search online, Dusty finally located Angie. An engineer from a rival company, she’d been away on assignment, which explained her absence, but not any relationship to him.

  He had a vague memory of the woman from a conference he’d attended. The time change appeared positive for her if his memory was correct. The woman he remembered was quiet and unassuming. He had spoken with her at an exhibit by her company. The two morons with her, Kevin Coleman and Steve Bell, had continually interrupted her, putting her down and basically harassing her. He’d finally told them to shut up so he could listen to her.

  Dusty hadn’t heard anything about those two since his return.

  Her current picture showed a different woman, the mousy demeanor no longer visible. Why would she contact him? Had there been something between them?

  No. It hadn’t happened in this time regardless. He didn’t care about her looks or demeanor. He wasn’t interested.

  She was no Dee.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dee waved to the girls as she entered the bar. She stopped long enough to place an order before joining them.

  “How did it go?” Nancy asked immediately.

  Dee rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say administration is not thrilled with me.”

  “They gave you a hard time? You’re one of the best doctors they have on staff.” Gail’s voice was growing angry.

  “They couldn’t give me too hard a time. I have a contract, but the fact I’m pregnant less than six months after arriving was noted. I got to see firsthand what you were talking about with their attitude.”

  “Do they know you’ve made friends with us?” Karen asked.

  “They didn’t say so exactly. There was a dig or two about my professionalism at work. I ignored them and plan to continue doing so. I learn too much here to stop coming.”

  That brought a laugh around the table and Dee relaxed. It felt good to be with these women, like the woman’s group back home.

  There’s an interesting turn of phrase, Dee realized. 1891 had not been her home, but it had been a home to her, creating a life both more complicated and simpler then.

  There had been no Angie to worry about there. Dee straightened her spine. No Angie to worry about here, either. She trusted Dusty.

  Could she trust Angie?

  ~ ~ ~

  Home World of the Malveks

  Braxal arrived at the site of the mind talkers to find Gsark outside. “Have they anything to report?”

  “I waited for you to address them.”

  The action, or lack thereof, caught Braxal off-guard. Gsark was a full warrior and sire of warriors, yet he had waited to obtain possibly critical information that could cost him an advantage. Braxal was the senior warrior, but he felt unsure and that rankled.

  “My appreciation. We should wait no longer.” His mind churning with motives, Braxal led the way into the room.

  Both mind talkers dropped to their knees and exposed their throats, then rose at Braxal’s gesture. He saw the younger of the two glance at Gsark, and the warrior acknowledged him with a respectful nod.

  “Warriors,” the older mind talker spoke. The two were similar in appearance, scrawny things with dull scales, no battle scars to mark them. The older must have come from Braxal’s line though he had never seen him before this meeting. “The emanations do indeed originate from the smaller land mass above the equator of the planet. We have been able to narrow the area close to the lesser of the water areas. From our observations, this is also a hub of governmental activity for the continent.”

  “Not in the center of the mass?”

  “No, Warrior. However, their technology is such that this does not appear to hinder them.”

  “So, the time distortion began in their seat of government?”

  The two mind talkers exchanged glances. “No, Warrior. The activity emanates from near that area, close enough to have been affected quickly.”

  Braxal growled, causing the two to flinch.

  Gsark stepped forward to peer into the screen. Braxal noted he allowed his claw to rest lightly on the shoulder of the younger mind talker. “Was it a mechanism or a life form that began the change?”

  Braxal blinked. An excellent question.

  “This is the work of the Guardians, Warrior. There would be no mechanism in use. They employ individuals for their changes.”

  “Is there any way to engage with these Guardians?” Gsark asked.

  “Engage with them? They are our enemies,” Braxal spat.

  “They have a power, an ability we can barely comprehend. I, nor any of my advisors, can see a way to defeat such an entity. However, since they have the power to destroy planets such as this, they should also have the power to create planets. If we could . . . negotiate with them for territory, is it not possible they could assist us in our expansion? It is a large galaxy.”

  Struck silent, Braxal needed a moment to think. The older warriors, those of Tharal’s ilk, would consider this weak or possibly treasonous, but there might be merit in a new way of thinking. This warrior standing before him had spawned five warriors. In the previous generation, Tharal spawned only two, and one of those had already fallen in battle.

  “It is an interesting proposition,” Braxal replied cautiously. “Is it possible to contact a Guardian?”

  The mind talkers were silent for a long moment. “It has never been attempted.”

  “Investigate it,” Gsark said, “and report any further developments.” Both underlings dropped to their knees again and remained there as Gsark and Braxal exited the room.

  “Refreshment?” Gsark asked.

  “Yes. I have questions for you.”

  Gsark shifted his eyelids and followed Braxal to a communal room.

  They sprawled on benches at the far end of the room, away from any prying ears.

  Braxal waited until libations were in front of them and the worker had departed the area. “How do you think we can contact the Guardians?”

  “I do not know. The only clue we have is what occurred on the planet. That is our only connection and it is tentative at best. I discussed this with my mate—”

  “You spoke of our plans with a female?” Braxal’s neck ridge rose slightly.

  “Only with Ledda, as she is my confidant and helpmate. I believe I shared this with you.”

  Braxal nodded for him to continue.

  “She put forth the idea that i
f the Guardians were invested enough in the planet to want to ruin it for our species, they might still be observing it. If we were to make contact, eventually they would know and possibly institute communications with us.”

  “Or destroy us for tampering with their work,” Braxal growled, unsettled Gsark had asked the opinion of a female.

  “I have researched what we know of the Guardians,” Gsark stated mildly. “They must have incredible technology to do what they do, however there has been no hint of violence from them. Nor has there been any evidence they have harmed a species or conquered a planet.”

  “What of the harm to us by destroying spawning grounds?”

  “Their action delays our expansion, though not by violence. And how would they ascertain the knowledge we were investigating that particular planet for growth?”

  Those words caused Braxal to pause.

  Could they have known?

  Chapter 23

  Washington, D.C.

  Off-kilter all day, Dee couldn’t put a finger on why. Dusty not being yet home made it worse. She’d been in such a good mood after the dinner with Sherry and Leonard at Leonard’s home. Those two seemed to be casually dating now. She and Dusty didn’t deliberately matchmake, but for not trying, their track record was pretty good.

  She couldn’t put her finger on the cause of her unease. Nothing had happened.

  At least her queasiness had ended and her energy returned for long stretches of the day, yet the overwhelming need to sleep had persisted.

  If only sleep were peaceful.

  Had Dusty mentioned anything about being late this evening? Checking the clock, she sighed. He wasn’t even supposed to be home yet.

  What was this creepy feeling?

  There was nothing wrong in the apartment, nothing out of place, and the windows were locked. Dee tried again to shake it off and finally curled up on the couch, too tired to think about dinner.

  Please don’t let me dream of alligators again.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dusty found her asleep when he arrived home. She looked peaceful and she obviously needed the rest. He’d read up on pregnancy as much as possible on the Internet, thankful there had been plenty to choose from. He gently spread the afghan her aunt had made over her slumbering body before changing clothes.

  Since she was still asleep, he ordered dinner without bothering her, getting plates out since she hated eating from takeout containers. Dusty found he enjoyed checking out the recycling properties of these new—to him—containers.

  The sensors alerted him to the delivery and he opened the door before the guy could knock. The activity woke her and she sat up, stretching.

  “How long have you been home?” Dee muffled a yawn.

  “Maybe thirty minutes. Go back to sleep if you want. This will keep.”

  “No, now that I’ve smelled it, I’m hungry. What is it?”

  “Thai, your favorite.” He held out a hand to lift her off the couch.

  “You think I need hoisting off the sofa? I’m not that big,” she protested.

  He grinned. “Getting in practice.” To his surprise, she came into his arms and locked her hands around his waist. He pulled her close, but she squeezed closer. “Dee? You okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s nothing. I’m just glad you’re here.”

  He absorbed the statement, eyeing her. “Nowhere else I want to be,” he said lightly. She was acting a little odd, but he dismissed it.

  As the evening progressed, the thought returned. She was uneasy, jumpy. Finally, he asked, “Did everything go okay today?”

  “Yes. Nothing major.”

  “Administration isn’t giving you any trouble, are they?”

  “They seem to be avoiding me, so I can’t complain. What’s with the questions?”

  “I don’t know. You seem jumpy tonight.” Taken aback at her blush, he stepped closer and hugged her. “What?”

  “I’m not sleeping well. And these little naps apparently don’t accumulate.”

  “Is it physical? You can’t get comfortable?”

  “It’s more my mind won’t slow down. And I’m having vivid dreams.”

  “I read about that. It’s not uncommon during pregnancy.” He smirked at the glare she sent him. “No, I will not stop researching on the Internet.”

  “It’s nothing. When you’re beside me, even if I do wake up during the night, I know it’s okay.”

  He gave her a squeeze and allowed her reassurance to ease his worry.

  ~ ~ ~

  Home World of the Malveks

  “Indications show contact of a sort has been achieved,” the older mind talker reported to Braxal and Gsark.

  Braxal wondered at the ease with which his mind talker worked with Gsark’s. Was that common? He’d never thought to check such a thing.

  “Nothing overt. We have become aware of a disturbance in some of the inhabitant’s thought patterns and they are mentioning night visions which seem to lead to us.”

  “Visions?”

  “They report what they call dreams, of what they refer to as reptiles. Alligators.”

  “What is an alligator?”

  “An amphibian from their planet. Not evolved. We have been unable to elicit any response from one. However, they do have a distant resemblance to us. They do not stand upright or speak and have no governance with the majority species of the planet.”

  “So, these creatures were never allowed to evolve there?”

  “No, Warrior. It does not appear so.”

  “Are these dreams planet-wide?”

  “No, Warrior. Mainly they seem to emanate from the site of the time change. It is not widespread phenomena yet. Only occurring enough that it is being discussed.”

  “The individuals used by the Guardians, are they affected?”

  The two mind talkers exchanged glances. Did they communicate silently during these looks? Another thing Braxal had never considered. “There is no way for us to say, Warrior. We do not know how many were used for the plan. We believe whoever was involved would share these dreams, but without more insight into the ways of the Guardians . . .”

  Gsark nodded. “Continue your surveillance.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Washington, D.C.

  The feeling had returned even stronger.

  Something was wrong.

  Dee left work as soon as possible. Tonight, the familiarity of the apartment wasn’t helping. She’d slipped on one of Dusty’s shirts over her own clothes for the comfort and security.

  To reassure herself, Dee had checked with her doctor and been given a clean bill of health as well as a mini-lecture on the role of hormones in a first pregnancy. His patronizing air hadn’t helped.

  She tried to prepare dinner but couldn’t settle down to decide on a menu. The term ‘coming unglued’ occurred to her. Why couldn’t she put her finger on what was bothering her?

  Those dreams about alligators were nonsense. She certainly wasn’t in danger from something that didn’t inhabit D.C., and she wasn’t planning a trip to the zoo or Florida. The ones in her dreams didn’t act like alligators. Instead it was almost cartoonish, with them working in front of computers and in labs. But she couldn’t push them away.

  Did they represent something to her? If so, she was at a loss as to what.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dusty came home to find Dee awake and pacing the living room. “Dee?” That was all he got out before she flung herself into his arms. He spotted unshed tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  Dee only shook her head, unbuttoning his shirt as though needing to get closer to him.

  “Dee. Baby, talk to me. Are you okay? Is something wrong with the baby?”

  Instead of answering, she buried h
er face in his neck, holding him even closer, and pulled his shirt from his slacks.

  “Love me,” she whispered.

  “I always do, Dee.”

  Her hand moved inside his open shirt and caressed his back. Unsure what was going on, and rather than argue, he gathered her into his arms to carry her to their room.

  In the bedroom he lowered her to the bed. Her arms pulled him back to her. “Relax, I’m here, baby.”

  He managed to shuck his shirt and remove his belt. Her fingers were already working at the button of his slacks.

  Rising to give her better access for undressing him, Dusty realized she wore one of his shirts. She hadn’t given him time to notice in the living room. Whatever had her this wound up, at least he knew a way to relax her.

  He slipped his shirt from her shoulders along with the blouse she wore underneath, tweaking her nipples as he removed her bra.

  When she lay naked beneath him, he slowly caressed her body, nuzzling her abdomen and murmuring nonsense to their daughter. Her fingers still gripped his shoulders, but her panic seemed to ease.

  Exploring her core, he knew she was ready for him, but he wanted more for her this time, and she gasped when he found that spot where he could lavish special attention.

  She exploded, no warning, spiraling out of control with a cry.

  Her reaction was different and new. Would pregnancy hormones cause such a quick trigger?

  “Do that for me again, Dee. I want to be with you for the next one.”

  She barely seemed to register his words but her hips thrust toward him and he accepted the invitation, plunging into her as she grabbed his ass to try to pull him closer. Who was he to refuse?

  Whatever had her in its grip was contagious. Their lovemaking was hotter and fiercer than ever. When she came a second time, he was lost, filling her.

  He eased away, not allowing her to support his weight as he gulped in needed air, and tucked her in beside him, anchoring her with trembling arms.