“Yes. Intricate. Fine. Almost perfectly mirroring the work I did on my initial construction, yet they’ve enhanced it using the natural regeneration possible with stem cells.” Straightening, she glanced at the man who’d captured her heart and she smiled. “I am nowhere close to understanding how they did it. As far as I know, we are not this close to functioning bioware, and the chip they used on Amanda still had silicone and metal pieces.”
“You found no sign of a chip in Ronan?”
“No,” she said, closing her eyes and leaning into the caress of his fingers. “Every test I ran suggested that, even if they had attempted to do so, it would have failed.”
“Why?” That was her man, curious because she discussed the subject.
“Well, it could be anything. The pH level of his blood chemistry, the other physical changes to his body…even the CT scan of his brain indicated topographic differences from the standard human brain. Maybe it has to do with his altered humanity.”
“Altered humanity?” The skepticism tugged a grin from her.
“Yes, it sounds weird, but he’s not fully human, is he? He’s something more? Or different. So, altered human will have to do. Like Amanda—her brain rejected the chip and began to break it down. If they implanted her first, they may have needed Ronan to…” She trailed off at the fierce look in Garrett’s beautiful eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m speculating on something truly horrible.”
Human experimentation was something Garrett had intimate experience with as a child and adult. “It’s all right, beautiful.” He cupped her cheek. “Your mind is one of the most gorgeous things about you. I appreciate your fascination coupled with the depth of your compassion, which would never allow you to perform similar experiments on people.”
She could barely do her tests on animals. Winston set his head on her foot, a physical reminder of her need to protect those around her. Helping animals and people were her goals, not hurting them or dissecting them for their parts.
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath and gathered her composure. “Anyway, I don’t think he was a good candidate, at least not for the chips they’d been experimenting with. Maybe that was the point of these stem cell chips. Stem cells adapt to any area. They are malleable, and perhaps that was their hope where he was concerned. I don’t know.”
Garrett nodded then pulled her into his arms. The man she loved was desperate for touch, and she was as desperate to give it to him. Settling her head against his chest, she chuckled when Winston wiggled between them so he could be a part of the hug. “I have news for you.” His low voice wrapped around her like a second embrace.
“Rory left.” She pressed a hand against his shirt and tilted her head back to meet his gaze.
Surprise registered in his eyes. “You knew?”
“No, but I suspected it wouldn’t be long before she shook off the leashes you were all trying to keep on her.” Ilsa gave him a squeeze then stepped away to clean up her research and store the chip she’d been studying. “I know you and the others believe you know best, but Rory is a very independent woman and very well aware of her circumstances and our world, maybe even better than all of you.”
Winston whined then leaned against Garrett’s leg until the big man reached down to scratch between his ears. The dog was another reason Garrett wore gloves, except for when he was alone with Ilsa. The animal craved contact, too. They weren’t one hundred percent sure his poisonous touch wouldn’t affect the canine as it did humans.
Better safe than sorry.
“You sound certain.” His statement contrasted with the doubt echoing beneath the words.
“Of course I am.” Ilsa chuckled. She slid the sample back into the storage unit and sealed it. “One problem all of you from the future have is that, for you, everything is set in stone. You keep seeking specific instances in your recorded history to alter, to prevent that untoward future from ever occurring.”
“Yes.” He didn’t disagree, which made what she had to say next a little easier.
“The problem with that is the moment you came back, you already altered the future and left what happened also set in stone.” She’d had a lot of time to consider these options. If she’d come to these conclusions, no doubt Rory had as well.
“Explain.” Garrett folded his arms and focused his attention on her. The weight settled like a comforting arm and she smiled, hoping to soften the sting of her next few statements.
“First, if your future didn’t happen, then you five couldn’t have come here. So, in quantum theory, the fact you were able to come here means the world you left had to exist. Your presence in our time means you have already altered that future to create a parallel timeline. It is not guaranteed that what happens in that parallel timeline will mirror exactly what you left behind. Even if you were to change nothing, the act of observation can and does have an effect.” Though she grasped the concepts, saying them aloud created another issue altogether.
“So, you think that because we came back, we’ve already changed things?”
“Absolutely. And…it could also be a loop.” She didn’t care for this thought at all, so she raised her hand when Garrett opened his mouth in order stave off his question. “Your history as far as you have told me is spotty. You have a list of specific events, specific places, even specific people. Yet your chip and Michael’s—they were encoded with my DNA and Rory’s respectively. That means, on some level, whomever created those chips had to know you would encounter us and they needed a certain level of assurance you wouldn’t kill us. In fact, in Rory’s case it’s paramount that Michael didn’t kill her.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Garrett looked pained. “That would mean the council that sent us back had to know we’d already been here or that something we did affected the future.”
“Yes, this is where it gets sticky. Is the event that triggered all of that one where Michael actually killed Rory?” Her stomach cramped. “Or because he didn’t? Was he really supposed to kill her? Or did they need to make sure he didn’t this time.”
“I hate this shit.” Garrett scowled. “It’s all theoretical. We can’t know if we’re doing a goddamn thing right until the future gets here, and we may all be dead long before that happens.”
“Exactly. So, I would propose that Rory has considered all of these possibilities. I have tried to puzzle my way through the potential futures and causes, and each time I think I have a firm grasp, a new thought occurs to me. You know her brain works far faster than ours, and she seems to see every possible permutation.” Ilsa had once envied Rory the ability. No longer.
“You think that’s why she left.” It wasn’t a question. “And why we had to save her. Maybe we did kill her before.” Garrett frowned. “I tried to kill her when Michael failed, and he stopped me. He stopped all of us. It was an insane imperative, driving him beyond what was normal.”
“But that isn’t what troubles you…” Yes, she’d learned to read him as well as he did her.
“No.” His jaw tightened. “After he met her, Michael changed. The man we followed—the Captain. He was a rational person. Clear. Concise. Efficient. Meeting Rory changed him, and I don’t think for the better. He became relentless, laser focused, and dangerous. Where before he reasoned between cost and results, now he only thinks of her.”
“And he made a critical mistake.” One Ilsa still didn’t agree with, and she knew Garrett hadn’t approved of either.
“He drugged her.” Garrett nodded once. “Alienating her.”
Crossing the lab, she cupped Garrett’s face in her hands and met his gaze, holding it. “Darling, I have known Rory for a very long time. She may have left because she needed to do the work. But one thing I do know, she will find Michael. She will do everything she can to rescue him and bring him and Rex back to us, if only so she can kick his ass five ways from Sunday for what he did. Her loyalty is absolute. She might be pissed as hell at him, but beneath it all is love.”
“And hurt.�
�� As much as her man and Rory acted as though they didn’t like each other, she knew they respected one another. “He hurt her.”
“Yes, he did.” If Garrett had done to her what Michael had to Rory, Ilsa might understand it intellectually, but she didn’t know if she could forgive him. “That is their problem. All we can do is support them the best we can.”
“That and finish the mission.”
“Do you even know what the mission is anymore?”
Garrett sighed. “We’re working on it.”
Chapter 6
Drake offered his “guest” a fresh, unopened water bottle. She hadn’t touched any of the heavy plastic cups on the table he’d filled with juice and soda, uncertain of which she’d prefer. She had finished the first water bottle after eating small bites of the food. He’d have been concerned, except he believed her reticence had more to do with testing what was in the food than a resistance to the food itself.
Sandwiches, chips and salsa, and salad had seemed the best things to give her. Most were simple fair—turkey and Swiss cheese on whole wheat bread was one of his favorites. She’d taken two bites then moved to the chips. Those she ate with abandon after opening her own bag.
She trusted the prepackaged food, but she tested the food he fixed her. It was worth noting. In addition to the chips, they also had packages upon packages of ramen noodles, soup, and other sealed fare.
“So, you’re just going to stare at me while I eat?”
Her question surprised him. She’d been tight-lipped, except for food consumption, since she’d taken a seat at the table opposite him. The small exam room he’d kept her in didn’t offer much in the way of comfort. The main section of the bunker had been built for military aesthetics, but she didn’t seem put off by the bunk beds, transitional table, or the racks of storage.
They had made sure all the weapons were secure, so he didn’t have to worry about her pocketing a knife or sidearm.
“I apologize for staring.” He meant every word. He hadn’t even realized he had been staring. “In my defense, I was trying to measure your state of mind against the food consumption.”
“Huh.” She popped another chip into her mouth, crunching it thoughtfully. After washing it down with a fresh drink of water, she then reached for the sandwich. “I promise not to throw up on you.”
“I appreciate that. The combination of narcotics used to render you unconscious and your lack of nutrition does not appear to have had any lasting negative effects.”
“Good to know,” she said just before taking another bite of the sandwich. She ate with precision, like a surgical strike on an enemy. “Of course, we’ve yet to see what the effect of holding me prisoner for three days strapped to a chair has had on me. Right?”
Surprise reared through him. Was she teasing? Or was it a carefully targeted dig at how she’d been treated? Either could be a possibility, and Drake couldn’t fault her for aiming her wit at him.
“Correct. Your mental and physical responses to stimulus appear to be within the normal range, however the long term effects remain undetermined.”
Surprise flickered in those honeyed eyes and she leaned back to stare at him. “Did you win a prize in elocution somewhere?”
“Electrocution?” Drake frowned, what did electrocuting someone have to do with what he’d said?
“No, elocution. It has to do with how you speak. Your articulation is damn near perfect, but I can’t place your accent anywhere. I hear intonations of South Africa, a hint British, a touch even of Southern U.S.—but only hints. You aren’t from any of those places. You don’t speak English like someone who’s learned it, because your use of colloquialisms is too accurate.”
“I’m an enigma.” He’d heard Rory spout that off at Michael once, and it amused Drake to no end at how frustrated Michael had been by the comment. The tiny line between Joss’s brow furrowed and her surprise became a glare. “However, I received very strict instruction in how one spoke when I was growing up.” His crèche had possessed far more children than adults. Regimentation not only kept them in line, it helped the adults manage them. Education served to keep them busy as well as improve their chances for a better lot in life.
Well, for those who hadn’t already possessed skills the corporations paid a fine percentage to acquire.
“Uh huh.” Joss shook her head, lips twisting. After setting her napkin next to her plate, she stood. “All right, so you fed me. I’ve showered. I’m not tied to that damn chair anymore.” As if to emphasize her point, she began a slow walk around the common room, stretching as she did so. Drake allowed her the freedom. Unrestricted movement might facilitate her cooperation.
He weighed whether he should rise and begin clearing or allow her the floor. Many seemed to find his size intimidating, so he remained in place. For now. “Do you require a visit with our physician?”
“The pretty, green-eyed chick?” Joss shook her head. “No, I’ll live. I’ve dealt with way worse than what you threw at me, big boy.” Her vertebrae popped as she stretched her hands toward the ceiling. Every movement seemed calculated. First, she’d walked to loosen her joints. Then she’d stretched, twisting to warm up the muscles. Now she extended her fingers toward the ceiling, as though inviting him to check out her body.
The surgical scrubs did not emphasize her curves. In fact, they seemed rather dowdy against her fine bone structure and defined musculature. Drake didn’t mind admiring the feminine form, but he kept his attention on how she scanned the room. Her head seemed to be on a swivel, her focus taking in her surroundings.
Rory would like Joss. The two women seemed to have a great deal in common. Based on his experiences when Rory was in captivity, he would not take Joss’s apparent weakness at face value. After all, Joss had been lying in wait for him to break into her apartment as though she’d known he was coming, and she’d been well-armed. If he’d been anyone else, she may have felled him.
“Your continued well-being is desirable,” Drake said when he realized he hadn’t responded to her verbal jab. “It was never my intention to harm you.”
“No, you just planned to break into my place and drug me before kidnapping me.” The false pity in her tone grated, but he couldn’t fault her statement.
“Yes,” he agreed, enjoying the fresh wave of incredulity at his bluntness. “Had it gone according to plan, you would not have experienced a concussion.” They could also have proceeded with a deep scan from Simon, or at least discovered immediately it wasn’t possible, then returned her before she’d been any the wiser.
“So sorry to spoil your carefully thought out abduction.” Not an ounce of contrition salted the statement. “Just to be clear, you did abduct me. More—you broke into my apartment and assaulted me.”
“Technically, if you wish to be explicit about the events, I did not assault you. You assaulted me. I defended myself.”
Her mouth opened then snapped shut. Amusement she tried to hide reflected in her half-smile before she pursed her lips. “Buddy, the moment you broke into my apartment, I had a reasonable fear for my life situation. I was defending myself. I just wish I’d gone for the gun first instead of the Taser.”
Personally, he could have done without either weapon. “Why did you?” A fair question in his estimation.
“Why did I taser you? Or why didn’t I shoot you first?” She seemed to find a distinction between the questions, so he simply nodded.
“Both.”
Joss stretched her arms, as she continued her slow pacing through the common room. Though she didn’t pause at the bunks, he could almost see the mental wheels spinning as she inspected them. “The use of lethal force should be warranted. I had a feeling someone was following me, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d been paranoid since coming home. In the interest of not killing someone who didn’t deserve it, I decided the Taser to be an effective compromise.” She waited a beat. “I was wrong.”
“On most, the Taser would have been effective.” He
chose to attribute her statement to the Taser’s failure to stop him.
“But not on you.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
Another slow nod from her as she seemed to absorb his answer. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“Define one of them.” Deciding she had time to acclimate to her surroundings, he rose and began to clean up the remnants of her meal. He had eaten one of the sandwiches, more to show her it was safe than from any real hunger on his part. The moment he stood, however, she stilled.
“You’re one the enhanced people.” Somehow, he doubted that was her first choice of words, but he let it pass.
“I suppose that is one way of putting it.” He stacked the paper plates and debris, then carried them over to the recycler. They’d built it from parts available in their present time period. It disintegrated the materials and could be used as mulch. It left no footprint or scent behind. Where they were from, recyclers could repurpose the material, make it viable again. They didn’t have the right tech for that currently. Still, the food particles would be similarly eliminated and it made clean up a simple task while in the bunker. At one point, Simon proposed a garden where they could grow their own produce.
The man had a lot of strange ideas. None of the others had any idea how to be farmers, so the idea had fallen by the wayside. Still, Rock Isle boasted a lot of wild growth, flowers, trees and other flora. They had plenty of places to spread the mulch.
“You have another explanation for why I hit you with a fifty-k voltage Taser and you didn’t do much more than stand there and take it before knocking me on my ass?”
“Well, the voltage might be set at fifty thousand on the device, but it doesn’t deliver that much.” The science on the whys and wherefores escaped him, but he knew one did not exactly relate to the other. “I am considerably stronger than most, and I have developed a tolerance over the years for blows of that magnitude.”
Joss canted her head to the side. “I can’t decide if you’re fucking with me or you’re absolutely serious.”
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