“You ever see anything like this?”
The first crack in Smith’s calm appeared. He twitched when she tossed it to Hel. He caught it easily, managed to study it without losing his focus on Smith.
“Nice.” He fiddled with the settings and pointed it at Smith, who visibly paled. It upped Hel’s hotness factor by twenty. Doc didn’t fan herself, but she wanted to.
Smith kept scanning the area, as if he expected someone to pop out of the walls or ceiling. She’d been told this place was too deep for transport in or out, but she never believed what she’d been told.
Time to cuff and search him. Her gut told her to approach him with caution.
“Hands on back of your head,” Doc said. After a hesitation, he complied. “Move to center of the room and kneel.”
He didn’t like it, but he did it, his eyes killing them with each step.
“Now lay on your stomach, hands still behind your head.”
He didn’t move. “You are making a mistake. If you don’t return my weapon to me, you will regret it.”
“I could taze you. It hurts like a bitch, and you don’t get to pass out.”
He complied, his eyes now lit with a murderous glow. Doc cuffed his ankles, then his wrists. When she’d searched him—depriving him of a couple of thumb drives and another über ray gun—she added some peeps for DNA analysis and put some distance between them again. One weapon indicated confidence in the outcome, or he’d trusted his backup too much. And he’d thought he had the element of surprise on his side. He had to be the one who’d got the drop on her and that pissed her off.
“We need him conscious,” Hel reminded her.
She gave Hel a look, while her brain considered what else she’d learned about Smith. He might look paunchy, but when she patted him down she learned it was all muscle. Guy was built like an ox. She’d suspect him of being on the Major’s payroll, but if he was, she wouldn’t be here. The Major was a miser with his resources. Besides, he had an über ray gun. If he worked for the Major she’d have one, too.
His gaze flicked between them. It was like looking at her eyes in the mirror. Creepy.
“Who are you?” Doc asked the question without any real hope he’d answer.
“Doctor Tobias Smith.”
His DNA said he was more than that. How could he be a mix of Gadi and Dusan? The two bogeys had close to the same balance in their DNA. The jarheads and the scientists were from Earth.
A faint crease formed between Hel’s brows. How is that possible? There has been no intermarrying for seasons past counting.
“The Chameleon works alone.” For a guy tied up and kissing floor he was pretty confident.
Hel nodded to Doc, like they hadn’t been peep-talking. She holstered her weapon and pulled out a syringe.
“That isn’t necessary. Ask your questions. I’ll answer them.”
“But will you answer them truthfully?” Hel asked, skepticism adding a hint of texture to the cool indifference of his voice.
“If you are the Chameleon, you will know if I’m lying.”
He had a point. Major called her a human lie detector—when he wasn’t calling her names not fit for polite company. Doc kept the syringe out to keep the pressure on.
“Let’s start with something easy. How do you know about the Chameleon?”
A slight smile, a hesitation as he considered his answer. “The Major could not resist the urge to write his memoirs.”
The chill heading down her back wasn’t because the air started to circulate again. She didn’t waste breath asking how he knew what he knew, not with the portal at her back, the portal she’d used to travel back in time. The Major she knew didn’t write anything down that didn’t have a built-in destruct code, but then he decides to write his freaking memoirs sometime in the future?
“You’re not from Earth.” It wasn’t a shock. Not after the DNA test, but he didn’t know about that. Doc let amusement trickle into her voice when she added, “And you believe he told the truth?”
The first hint of uncertainty crept into his expression. Cause and effect.
One of the jarheads’ radios crackled. Doc grabbed it and listened to Major Loren giving the order to begin the evacuation through the portal. They were running out of time.
How is this possible? Hel’s crease deepened, while Smith watched them with increasing frustration.
Unless Conan succeeds in blasting it out of existence in two years, there’s no reason to think this portal couldn’t outlast all of us. It’s been remarkably durable so far.
It was annoying. They could leave the jarheads and scientists where they lay and risk the time line, or they had to figure out how to manhandle ten bodies through the portal into the future without losing their upper hand. It was complicated by the fact that she and Hel had to travel together. And she couldn’t guarantee they’d all arrive at the same time, upping the challenge factor by a number she didn’t have time to run but was sure to be astronomical.
She crouched with care in front of Smith. Those flex cuffs wouldn’t have stopped her. He still looked convinced the situation would spin his direction. Hel caught the thought and focused on both lift door and portal, though he wasn’t obvious about it. Guy might talk if he thought he’d soon have the upper hand. She wouldn’t. Wouldn’t write any foxtrot memoirs either. And if she made out of this, the Major wouldn’t be doing it either.
“Who are you really?”
His eyes showed awareness of how they were alike. He almost smiled. “I think you know.”
It was the truth. “Why mess with our past?”
“I didn’t.”
There was a measure of truth in the statement, but a large helping of lies, too.
Doc looked around. “I don’t see anyone else in this room from the future.”
“The changes aren’t permanent,” Smith said, quickly, as if he needed to delay them, his gaze studying places without doors again.
“So you messed up our lives for the hell of it?”
For the first time, he hesitated. “Time is persistent. Like water seeking to be level, true time asserts itself.”
That sounded like the truth, but she wasn’t reassured. She knew that look. He was hunting. Did that make him a good guy or a bad guy? He’d been careful not to reveal his real name. Did that mean he was afraid they’d go mess with his life? That they could?
“It’s a trap,” Hel said it aloud, plucking the thought from Doc’s head.
“He’s using the time instability as bait,” Doc finished. Unless the Chameleon was the bait? Or was she part of the prey? This trap had been fashioned for her, too.
Now Smith looked concerned. “How—” He stopped, but not in time.
“We’re gifted.” Doc didn’t have to exchange significant looks with Hel. They were synched better than her iPod to iTunes. It was time to go.
She yanked out a knife and cut the restraints off their people. It wasn’t a great plan to leave them behind, but it was their only option. “Why bring Keltinar into the mix? Why speed up their technology development?”
His slight smile sent another nasty chill down Doc’s back.
“I slowed it down.”
“Hotel foxtrot sierra.” She looked at Hel. “We gotta get back.”
“We’ll take the time travelers with us.”
“You can’t—”
Doc pulled a stun weapon and shut him up. He’d done it to her or he planned to do it to her.
Topside the battle went quiet, like someone had clicked a switch. Maybe someone had. The battle shouldn’t be over yet. Doc activated a console as a HUD. Nothing moved anywhere, in space or on the outpost. It was as if they’d been frozen. A sudden, painfully bright beam of light filled the room. She snapped her shaded visor down and had a Luger in her hand without even thinking about it. When the light faded, two figures stood by the lift doors.
“That won’t be necessary,” a cool, calm voice said.
Doc couldn’t tell if the
y were male or female. Their faces, their clothes, their miens were bland beyond weird. It didn’t take much thought to conclude they were Smith’s prey, but that didn’t make them the good guys.
“Who the foxtrot are you?” She didn’t lower her weapon. Instead, she grabbed one of the future weapons they’d taken off Smith’s buddies. Hel still held the one she’d tossed him.
“We are here to deal with the time violators.”
Doc flicked her safety off. “You’ll notice this is a projectile weapon, so your shields won’t protect you.”
“You do not know this.”
He or she was right. She lifted the future weapon. Only one reason Smith and his boys were packing them. “But this one will.”
They might have paled. Hard to tell when they had skin whiter than hers.
“Who are you?” Pale gazes flicked between Doc and Hel, curiosity lighting their pale gazes with animation.
“The ones with the weapons,” Hel said.
“And the upper hand,” Doc finished. “Who are you?”
“We are time wardens. We detected an instability and tracked it here.”
“And how do you fix this instability?” Hel asked the question. Doc felt his need to keep their attention away from her.
If this was a Chameleon trap, which of them had set it, Smith or the self-declared time wardens? Doc wasn’t getting heavy truth vibes from them either. How much did they know? Her peeps hackles rose with hers.
“We must collect the contagion and reset time.”
“Why should we believe you?” Doc asked, sensing something from them, but not sure what.
“We are not allowed to affect the time stream. We protect it.”
“Then you should already know who we all are, shouldn’t you?” Hel arched his brows, his lips almost twitching at the chagrin that marred the blandness of their expressions.
Good one.
“It is not that simple.”
“Nothing ever is,” Doc agreed. “When I don’t know what to do, I start shooting. It returns things to simple.” She didn’t want any of this bunch at her back when she left. With a flick of her thumb she brought the future weapon online. “Too bad I haven’t had time to figure out the settings.”
Okay, that time they did pale.
The truly weird part for Doc, now that time was frozen, she could feel its fluidity, feel the pressure for it to seek its proper level.
“We are here to remove the interlopers.” Light crept from them to engulf Smith and the bogeys who’d come through the portal. Neither the jarheads nor the geeks were included in the selection. And the light stayed well away from Doc and Hel. The time warden added, a slight tremor in his or her voice, “We have no issue with you or your companions.”
They didn’t know that she and Hel were out of their time.
“You must surrender their weapons.” This came from the other warden.
The gleam in their eyes told Doc all she needed to know. Besides, it was against her religion to surrender a weapon.
“You first,” Hel said, his future weapon pointed at the he or she on the left.
Unlike her and Hel, they had to look at each other to silently communicate. Their pale gazes turned back to them.
“You won’t remember this meeting. Once we leave, this event will cease to exist.”
They were bluffing. Doc felt it to her core.
Doc arched her brows. “Then we have nothing to worry about.” Unlike them, she could make everything she said sound like the truth. “And neither do you. Once time resets, the weapons will cease to exist here.”
They didn’t like that. What was more interesting, they weren’t sure that the weapons would vanish.
“If we use the weapons,” Hel put in, “won’t that create another instability you can track?”
One of them nodded. It seemed unnatural, like they didn’t do it that often. They exchanged looks once more, and then light flared again and when it faded, the two creeps and their time traveling prisoners were gone, leaving the jarheads and the Earth geeks with Doc and Hel. Time unfroze with their departure, the battle once more heading toward its big finish.
How much had changed, or would change when the reset occurred? And when would it happen? What created a trackable instability? Could the wardens track them back through time? She didn’t feel watched, but she felt time building toward something. Doc spun toward the portal, the peeps already entering their coordinates with her mind and preparing to activate the beacons.
Would they be returning to a time different from the one they left? How different might it be? Neither the geeks nor the jarheads would regain consciousness in time to go through the portal before the battle ended and if they did? They’d arrive two years into the future. No one would be traveling to Keltinar. Halliwell would not have spent the last two years worrying about his lost people. Would he have returned on the Doolittle or retired? Doc would not have traveled to Keltinar, and she would not have started that war that wasn’t her fault. Conan would have bigger guns, but he had no reason to come to this galaxy.
What she didn’t know, what kept her from diving into the portal was the question of how it would affect her, the peeps and Hel. Would she have come to this galaxy without Smith’s specific shopping list? It seemed unlikely. The Major liked to keep his assets close.
They could stay, even as her mind latched on to the idea, her mind also pointed out the problem: if they stayed, they risked creating a time instability and bringing the wardens back. They had to go through, they had to go back, no matter what the consequences.
At the opening, she looked at Hel. “Things might be weird when we get back.”
His brows arched. She wasn’t sure what he’d do if she told him everything, so she just said, “Just don’t be surprised by what we find on the other side.”
His smile was both wry and tender. “I have been surprised almost every minute since your people arrived in this galaxy, Delilah.”
Doc pulled her sleeve up and looked at the mark of their bonding. “I know you don’t know what it means, but when we say we love someone on my world, it’s big. I want you to know I love you. Whatever is on the other side, that won’t change.” She so hoped that was true. Could she love someone she’d never met? Time is persistent. She hoped Smith was right about that.
“We have a different word for it, but it is the same for me.”
Her mind and heart swirling with worry and love, Doc stepped into the portal with Hel.
Doc tried to notice if anything was different from the first time as they went forward in time , but it looked and felt the same. Stomach still lurched and protested. The lights thinned and bent the same. And then it stopped and they were back on Gristal, but when were they back?
Doc looked at Hel. He looked at her, his brows arched in a question she didn’t have an answer for. She stepped out, surreptitiously checking for anything that might be missing, such as her ma’rasile mark. It glowed on her wrist, a beacon of hope in a life that had been neutral on the subject of hope.
“I still carry my ma’rasile mark, as well.”
Doc frowned. “I still remember them. Do you?”
Hel matched her frown and raised it to a scowl. “Yes.”
“Perhaps it takes time to fade. Or maybe they aren’t as powerful as they thought they were.”
Doc liked that option best. She tapped into the outpost. Everything looked the same as when they left, but minus the Conan shooting at them part. Had they arrived before they left? Conan’s ship lurked behind the Kikk moon and his other ships hovered over the outposts, including this one. Were they about to meet themselves coming through the portal? It was almost too weird to deal with. Doc’s gut kicked into high gear. She turned and stared at the portal that would take them back to Kikk. She couldn’t get a sense of when it was. She needed contact with the General to get a fix on the date and time. Was this an instability that the time wardens could track?
“I’d sure like to bypass th
is part of the trip,” she muttered.
“This forgetting could happen at any point,” Hel pointed out. It was very guy of him to take the logical approach, very girl of her to find it annoying. “We must return to Kikk.”
Of course he wanted to get back to Kikk. He’d been trying to get there for most of his life. They could still be in the instability, she supposed. She could wish she’d paid more attention in time travel class, if there’d been one to not pay attention in.
“You are giving me a headache, Delilah.” Hel grabbed her hand and lifted it to his mouth. “Let’s go home.”
Home. With her free hand, she touched Kikk, bringing it to the front and center, while her mind replayed images of all her time with Hel. So few meetings to feel so safe with him, to feel like she belonged somewhere. To believe they could have a home together. He was right. First things first. She fixed her mind on the things she wanted: a life with her ma’rasile, her husband. The power to walk away from the Major and his imperatives, to live her own life. Any life with Hel was a huge unknown, but having a life with him was worth holding on to. She anchored her thoughts on these things as they made the leap.
She’d do this last thing and then she’d be free to be who and what she wanted. She owed it to the General. The Major? She’d paid any debt to him a long time ago. She’d do it and somehow, some way, she’d do it without losing what mattered the most. She felt the peeps dig in, too.
“Ready?”
“Weapons out?”
Doc nodded. Kikk should be safe, but she still never assumed.
Together they backed into the portal. All seemed as it should be until the last moment when a bright golden flash went through her like an electrical charge.
She had time to think, those freaking foxtrot lying time freaks before she fell into a deep, dark place.
Chapter Twenty
Doc woke in the Doolittle’s infirmary feeling some serious déjà vu.
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