“Minister Carig,” Hel murmured, bending close so that his breath ruffled the hair covering her ear.
She shivered, wondering when the wedding was. It took a couple of blinks to focus on the new player. Hel wasn’t the only one made vulnerable by the sizzle between them. These men would use any advantage they could find against them.
Carig was about her height and darker skinned then Hel or his cousin. Doc hadn’t realized they had variations, since Carig had missed the other party, not wanting to get blown up. Was he still plotting or just frustrated and bitter? Were there rumblings among the expedition for him to tap into this time?
Time is persistent.
She didn’t see Neil Caldwell, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here somewhere.
She had a sense, perhaps from the knowledge the peeps had downloaded from their time in the slip stream, that this reset was dang near back to square one. Where did that leave Dr. Smith? She didn’t see him anywhere either, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t somewhere.
“I don’t see Dr. Smith, General Halliwell?”
Hel’s fingers on her arm contracted once. The General frowned.
“Who?”
“Tobias Smith?”
“Never heard of him.” His gaze asked a question she couldn’t answer in this place, but she let her gaze tell him the question was related to the time reset. His nod was almost imperceptible. He was a good, no, make that a great man. He’d…saved her in his way, as much as the peeps and Hel. It had started with Sara and Fyn, continued with Briggs and finished here. She was officially a real girl.
Time is persistent.
Flinging him back into his own time wouldn’t stop Smith from trying again. It was the one thing she knew for sure about him, almost the only thing.
Time is persistent.
As if to add emphasis to that thought, Doc saw Conan. Freaking Conan. He strode toward her scattering pretty Gadi guys like they were bowling pins and he was the ball. Just looking at him made her headache. Just how persistent was time? She couldn’t see a bandage on his hand. Was he playing tag again or had he arrived like he was supposed to this time? She wanted to ask who he was, but what if she already knew?
The General shifted, blocking her view, and said in a low voice, “His name is Vidor Shan. He’s from another galaxy. Said he was curious.”
The General’s tone said he didn’t believe Conan. Doc didn’t either. The peeps wanted to help out, but they were lucky to connect with each other. Clarity would have to wait.
At least the party was interesting enough to distract. Her gaze glanced off Glarmere, Carig and Conan, before finding Hel again. Even without Dr. Smith, it was the most interesting party she’d ever attended.
* * * * *
Doc wasn’t sure when she realized Hel was steering her, not just through the crowd, but somewhere. Since they’d met every Gadi person in the room, and he wasn’t pushing her into another timeline, Doc didn’t fight him. The limelight was not SOP for her, so she was happy to get out of it. The door was hard to spot. A tapestry hung down, but Hel found it and nudged her through it, then slipped inside after her. It was a small room, a small office maybe. It had a desk and shelves, though it was way nicer than her office on the Doolittle—well, the one last timeline. She didn’t know if she had an office in this timeline.
She trailed a finger along the smooth edge of the desk, feeling the subtle changes in the grain. She’d been longing to see Hel, to talk to him, but now they were alone, her heart fluttered with an unfamiliar panic.
“Delilah.”
Just her name, but his tone pulled her around to face him. Her lashes lifted, taking more time than needed to connect with his deep, blue gaze. This was the moment for the law of unintended consequences to pull the rug out. She leaned against the desk, maybe gripped it with both hands. She knew she looked calm, because she knew what calm felt like on her face, knew each muscle in her face was where she wanted them to be, knew they gave nothing away. Her heartbeat too fast and her eyes ate him up, so he wouldn’t be fooled by the calm. Even if he didn’t know her, he knew her.
She needed to break the silence, so she did. “Glarmere isn’t going to be Leader, is he?”
Hel’s perfect mouth curved. “No.”
Doc’s throat dried, as the heat in his eyes ramped up. Maybe she didn’t need him to remember. This was good…
“I remember the first time I saw you. At the party, you paced like you were looking for a way out.”
“I’m lousy at parties, unless I’m supposed to shoot someone. Then I’m good.”
Not the best quality in an alliance mate.
He took a step toward her. “I remember the first time I kissed you. And the second.”
Color stung Doc’s cheeks as she remembered them, too. A current of something formed between them. She swallowed.
“I had influenza.” It sounded better than, “I was almost a corpse.”
He took another step. “I remember that, too. I almost lost you.” He stopped bare inches from her, trailed a finger down her cheek and across her mouth. “I remember hurting you.”
She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “Your cousin was trying to torture you. I’d have been cranky, too.”
“That was not what unsettled me, and you know this.”
She gave a tiny, happy shrug. Maybe she smiled. “We have a tradition on my planet called kissing it better.”
His mouth curved up. “We have this tradition as well.” He leaned closer. “Where does it hurt?”
She touched her chest, just above the vee in her Morticia dress where her real girl heart pounded. “Right here.”
He bent and kissed the spot, his mouth lingering for an endless second against her skin. Her heart almost stopped. Her breathing did stop. If he hadn’t lifted his head, she’d have passed out. As it was, she saw stars. He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close and her stars went nova. A hand cupped her chin, tilting her face up to his. Not that she fought him. Just in case he wasn’t sure she was with him, she parted her lips in invitation.
“When we were about to go through the portal, you said you loved me. We have something we call—” The Gadi word was unfamiliar to Doc, but the look in his eyes gave her a translation. “Could this love, be similar?”
She nodded, but it didn’t seem enough. “If yours means I never want to be where you aren’t, then yes, it’s the same.”
“Then I also feel this love for you. Even for my sons’ mother, I have not felt this, Delilah. When I realized our ma’rasile was gone…”
The pain in his voice and face brought back the echo of her pain.
“I know why you did this, but I ask you to reconsider, to be my ma’rasile again.”
There were good reasons to say no, but Doc couldn’t look into his blue, blue eyes and say anything but, “If that’s what you really want.”
She eased up on her toes, just to give him a little hint that kissing would be nice about now. Before he could take the hint, her wrist tingled. She looked and found her mark back.
We could not wholly remove it, the peeps admitted. We would have told you if…
Doc smiled because she couldn’t help it. “I’m going to make a lousy Leader’s whatever.”
“I no longer desire to be a Leader. I served my people when my skills were needed for war. I am ill-suited for peace.” He looked around. “I think we should live here with my sons and learn together about this place.”
“I could do that, but who will lead your people?” Then she got it. “Naman.” Hel nodded. “He’ll be good. He learned from the best, after all.” She stiffened. “Does this mean we don’t have an alliance mating between our people? Or do I have to stay with him?” The law of unintended consequences better not be messing with her.
“You are my ma’rasile, Delilah.”
“But will this mess up your alliance mating creds?”
“If we announce my retirement prior to the ceremony, yes. Once it has happe
ned, then you may choose to remain with the Leader or come with me.”
She gave him a slow smile. “Well, I’ll have to think about it, won’t I? Do I keep my position or the guy?”
“Permit me to aid your decision.”
He bent his head towards hers. It felt like it took forever for his mouth to find hers but when it did…
Her toes curled in her mile-high shoes. It was an unintended consequence, but one she didn’t mind.
Doc thought she knew about going nova.
She thought she knew about going super nova.
She didn’t know anything.
But she was learning.
Epilogue
The facility showed few lights as midnight passed them by. Doc didn’t check her watch. She didn’t need to with the peeps in her head.
She fired the grapple over the wall at the same time as Hel. They went up the wall side by side, though she let him reach the top first. They were evenly matched in everything, but he was a guy. First mattered more to him than it did to her. They dropped silently onto the grass on the other side. No dogs, though there were motion detectors. The peeps helped them fail to detect their motion. They went ghost and reached the side of the building without a confrontation with the single guard. He was inside flirting with one of the nurses.
The peeps hacked into the building security and messed with the cameras, while Doc popped the locks the old-fashioned way. She did like to practice every now and again. Inside it was just a matter of avoiding the night staff. They took the halls less traveled to the third floor. Had to wait while a nurse did a room check. Drifted down the hall to the right room. This time Doc let the peeps pop the lock. They liked to practice, too.
The room was dim, a small nightlight giving a soft glow from the bathroom. He lay on his side on the bed, straps on his arms and legs to prevent him from hurting himself. Doc worked quickly, Hel assisting with the Gadi IV device. She extracted the test tubes and added them one at time.
It was kind of funny that it freaked her peeps out a bit, letting themselves out of the tubes. They were quick to point out that another Doc was out there somewhere, too. Time paradoxes were still a challenge for all of them.
“If he does not wake soon…” Hel’s gaze strayed to the doorway.
They had to leave undetected. The space-time continuum might depend on it. For sure they didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention with a time instability.
He didn’t glow. He did stir, his lids fluttering several times before staying up. His brows drew together in a familiar frown.
Doc turned on a small, hooded flashlight, letting some of the light hit her face.
“Hello, Robert.”
If you enjoyed Girl Gone Nova be sure to check out the next book in the Project Enterprise series: Tangled in Time.
Braedon Carey, Col. USAF, was used to waking up in strange places.
He wasn’t used to waking up nose-to-beak with a buzzard.
He stared at the buzzard. The buzzard stared at him.
It dawned on him he had a buzzard on his chest.
He yelled. He may have waved his arms at it as he scrambled to his feet. With an air of offended dignity, it retreated to a chunk of rock. Carey retreated, too, and did an SA—situational awareness—assessment. It didn’t take long.
He knew where he was supposed to be and this wasn’t it.
He’d flown over, driven through, and trained in and around, Area 51. He knew it as well as he knew his Dauntless. This is what he got for playing test pilot without a ship. No surprise it had turned into a Charlie foxtrot right off the launch pad—or in this case, right out of the Garradian portal. At least the pucker factor was low with that buzzard gone from his chest. He’d been fine when he left the Kikk outpost, but now his ribs hurt, a sign he’d bent them on something inside the wormhole. Was that possible? He shifted gingerly. His ribs said it was. His brain was neutral on any subject that involved physics—not that he knew this was a physics problem. His skill set involved pointing, shooting and blowing things up. Until this moment, he’d also have said he was good at getting from point A to point B, but he hadn’t been driving. The doc and her geek team had been on the stick for this trip.
He picked up his cap and slapped it against his leg before settling it on his head. He pulled out his GPS, but it couldn’t get a signal. If the GPS wasn’t working, then the SAT phone probably wouldn’t either, but he tried it anyway. He gave it a shake and tried it again. Something was gooned up. Had he bent his tech the same time he bent his ribs? The tech didn’t look bent. He shook both. Didn’t sound bent. He tried them again, just to be sure. Still no joy.
He extracted his compass next. It found a pole, but it had found a pole on Kikk. Some tech had no loyalty to their home planet. He eased the bill of his cap up some and did a slow circle, taking care not to make eye contact with the buzzard. Could the doc have dropped him on the wrong planet? She’d seemed to know what she was doing, while admitting she might not, he recalled now. Kind of like those drug commercials. This will work great unless something goes wrong, which it might. Could the misfire goon up his retrieval? The doc had been confident while managing to not be confident about that part, too.
He caught the buzzard looking at him like he was a buffet opening soon. It took flight, rising in a series of slow circles that kept him at the center, so Carey wouldn’t get to thinking he’d lost interest. With that red noggin and turkey-like build, it could be a turkey vulture. If he recognized the buzzard, maybe he’d recognize something else. There’d been a few years in there, until Carey got too cool to go tripping with his old man, where they’d visited every national and state park within driving distance. He’d seen a serious chunk of the USA on those road trips. Could this be one of those chunks? He gave the chunk his undivided attention.
Looked like he’d landed in a long valley, a cut between two offset peaks. The incline was brutal going up and down. Toward what could be the west, was a long desert plain, and rising from it, a set of peaks that looked familiar. Was it hopeful thinking? Two peaks. Two ears…mule ears? They looked kinda like mule ears. Mule Ears Peaks. He’d seen them before, but where? He needed to get higher. Couldn’t see crap in this valley. Up always improved SA. His ribs grumbled dissent.
He could make his ribs happy, sit tight until his extraction—if it came. Not the place he’d have picked, but he had water and energy bars for a few days. The buzzard’s shadow passed over him. On the other hand, maybe he ought to keep moving. Ribs didn’t feel broken—he’d know—so they could man up. Bad idea to give a buzzard false hope.
Sun rode low in the east. A bit of a chill in the air. Based on the ground cover, he’d guess it was early spring. He was supposed to have arrived in late fall and in another state—not that he was complaining, because who would he complain to? The buzzard that wanted to eat him?
He started up, using the scrub as handholds to keep from taking an involuntary down turn, while his ribs groused at him. He’d spent too much time in space, he decided. He shouldn’t be puffing this hard. Couldn’t even blame it on the altitude. This mountain wasn’t any higher than Area 51. About one hundred yards shy of the peak, he topped a slight rise and the ground leveled out enough to let him catch his breath. He didn’t sink to his knees. He had his pride—and that buzzard was still stalking him. With his eyes on the ridge line, he almost didn’t notice the bogey.
When he did—he blinked—it couldn’t be for real. He rubbed his eyes—it had to be a mirage—but it didn’t go away. It didn’t waver around the edges either. He looked both directions, half expecting a camera crew to pop out from behind a rock, but that was even crazier than the big ass bogey. He eased in for a closer look. Kind of oblong in shape and metallic in appearance, it sat close to the mountain wall on the only bit of semi-flat real estate around. It looked like a mutation of a car and an upside down train, with a little rocket thrown in just for fun. An inverted fan of dark metal covered the area where a view port or window shi
eld should be. Or eyes. It kind of looked like it should have eyes.
The wheels on the mongrel machine were as whacked as the whole of it. Looked like old stage coach wheels, but metal and black. There was no road for it to drive up, even if the wheels touched the ground, which they didn’t. Whoever built this bad boy had a great sense of humor or his elevator didn’t go all the way to the top.
He approached with caution, half expecting it to dissolve when he touched it, but it didn’t. It felt cooler to the touch than he’d expected, though he wasn’t sure why he expected anything. Up close, the surface was black and appeared to be made from sheets of metal fastened together with rivets. In addition to the wheels it had a series of fins along the side and front. He touched one and it moved, like they retracted and extended. He tugged one until it stopped. They extended pretty far, but fifty of them couldn’t put this hunk of junk in the air. Might improve the aerodynamics, but that was another physics problem. Still didn’t do those. No sign of windows or openings down the left side, though he did find something that could be vents. On the right side of the bogey, an open hatch door had three fancy looking steps hanging off the edge.
It looked like—a cartoon version of a Jules Verne space ship or submarine, which seemed to support the mirage theory. Only it refused to fade like a good, big mirage.
It hadn’t crashed here. There were no impact indicators. Could’ve been built there, he supposed, but how had it been built in a place with no roads or signs of human intrusion? And why? Besides, the metal wasn’t corroded or aged, and there was very little grit on the surface. It didn’t look dug in, more like it had recently arrived. Only thing breaking ground around it was his footprints.
And someone else’s.
It shouldn’t be a shock. He had noted the opening in the side. But it still gave him a jolt to see them. Instinct had him reaching for his sidearm, but the sound of a gun cocking off to his right changed his mind. He raised both arms, taking it non-threatening slow, and turned toward the sound. His jaw dropped.
Girl Gone Nova Page 43