iRobotronic

by Bella Street

  Something flickered in his gray eyes. “I changed my mind.”

  Glancing down at the destruction she saw on her plate, she pushed it away and stood. “I'm going back to my room.” She didn't bother looking at Gareth. No doubt he was still staring moodily anywhere else but at her.

  Her steps were leaden as she walked back to her room. She didn't know why she bothered coming down to eat. Why did they all just assume the food was no longer tainted with drugs? Maybe this time it was actual poison. Except for hers. No, hers would be left pure because she had to save the whole friggin' world.

  Seffy heard footsteps behind her. “How long does the collapse of a universe take?” She turned and saw Trent. “Is it over in an instant?” Her lip trembled. “Will it hurt?”

  He caught up to her. “Well, now I know where you went earlier.”

  “God, I don't even want to save myself. Why bother with any of it?”

  “Don't look at it as saving the world. Just try and save one person. Fenn.”

  She looked at her feet as she walked. One in front of the other, along ugly floor tiles. “Maybe Fenn doesn't want to be saved.” She glanced up at Trent. “Maybe it's presumptuous to assume anyone wants saving, you know?”

  “Trust me, some people do.”

  She regarded his strange expression for a moment, then looked away, too tired to figure anything out at the moment.

  They walked in silence, turning the corner into their main hallway. Seffy opened her door and went in. She heard Trent follow and deflated. She just didn't have the energy to get rid of him.

  He closed the door and watched her as she dropped onto the sofa. Seffy wondered why he continued to hang around her. He was hot enough to get half the women in the compound if he wanted. Why did he bother with a hopeless case like her? “Hey, do you still have any of that vodka?”

  Trent gave a knowing laugh and sat next to her on the sofa. “Yeah, I don't think alcohol would be such a good idea considering your state of mind.”

  “What's my state of mind?”

  “You're pretty easy to read, Sef.”

  “I guess I don't have much hope for an acting career if I can't hide my feelings.”

  “Maybe you're feelings are bigger than what can be contained behind a mask.”

  “You mean death and destruction feelings?”

  “Yeah, those,” he said softly. “Sounds like Eugene is putting a little pressure on you.”

  “And then some, but I don't buy the whole universe hinging on me crap.”

  Trent leaned back against the cushions. “Maybe he has a flair for the dramatic. Maybe the apocalypse is less about the universe and more about the compound. Remember what Malone said? Apocalypse can just be the end of the world as we know it.”

  “Either way, this whole thing blows.”

  He shifted slowly. “Are you scared?”

  “Not of the time travel thing.”

  “Then of what? You mentioned death and destruction.”

  Seffy looked up at him wishing he was Gareth. In the next instant, she chastised herself for being unfair. Still, she was leery of opening up to him. “It's not that I have some death wish, I just don't want..this.” Seffy clenched her hands together. “Sometimes I don't like the living part.”

  Trent's voice dropped. “Are you still having nightmares?”

  “Less now.”

  “I can only imagine what you went through and I'm sure the way you feel is part of coming out of that.”

  She licked her lips. “What if it's not? What if I'll always feel this way?”

  “It will pass in time.”

  “How do you know?”

  The lines around his mouth tightened. “I just do. And I'll sit here with you until it does.”

  The unexpected support caused Seffy's eyes to fill with hot tears. She pressed the heels of her hands to her sockets, despising her inability to keep her emotions at bay. If Gareth were here, he'd take her in his arms and hold her until the storm passed. How was it possible that the Gareth option was now gone? She broke down and wept for all that was lost between them, for the future they'd never have again, even as friends. And she wept for her rotten lost-in-space situation. That really hacked her off.

  “God, Sef, I'm right here. For the taking.”

  Snuffling and wiping her streaming eyes, she looked at him. “I don't want to use you. I don't even like you.”

  “I never thought you did,” he whispered, and pulled her close.

  Seffy found she was unable to resist. Strong arms surrounded her; a perfect hollow for her head, a heartbeat under her ear. She was too weak to deny herself the luxury at the moment. Closing her eyes, she pretended it was Gareth holding her, resting his chin on her head.

  And yet Trent didn't feel like Gareth. She didn't know what was different, but different it was. The knowledge made her start crying again. She felt like a stupid, pathetic, helpless female. A cliché in every possible way. Added to this outrage was a leaky nose. “I'm going to soak your shirt,” she croaked against his chest.

  “Nah, it's polyester. Everything'll just slide right off into my lap.”

  The picture his words made her sputter-laugh. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. She was so tired. Too tired to stop Trent when she felt his hands smoothing her hair.

  Because that just plain felt good.

  ***

  Seffy blinked and found it was difficult when her eyes were nearly swollen shut. Crap. It took her a moment to realize she'd fallen asleep bawling all over Trent. His wet shirt was still under her cheek. Double crap. She pulled away, but his arms tightened around her.

  “I miss this.”

  Seffy pushed harder until he released her. He looked groggy, like he'd fallen asleep too. “What do you miss? Having females go all to pieces over you?”

  His heavy-lidded gaze seemed be hiding something. “It must be how my mojo affects them.”

  She sent him a reluctant smile, which faded quickly when she realized nothing had changed about her situation. “What time is it?”

  Trent looked at the watch affixed to a wide leather strap around his wrist. “Nine o'clock.”

  “At night? How could I have slept so long?”

  He stretched his arms above his head. “You had a premier pillow.”

  “Well, thanks. It helped.” Terrific. She sounded like an ingrate. But she always had to be on her toes around Trent. She looked down for a moment, an idea coming into her weary brain. “Trent, I want to talk to Fenn.”

  “When?”

  “Right now.”

  He sat up, frowning. “He might still be under medical care. I don't even know if he's back in his quarters.”

  “How can we find out?”

  “It won't matter. The guards didn't like me a whole lot to begin with. Then when they did let me in last time, Fenn needed a doctor. There's no way they're allowing me near him again.”

  “Isn't there some secret tunnel way in?”

  “The area around his rooms is way more fortified. If there are secret passages, I don't know where they are.”

  “Baloney.”

  He put up his hands. “Look, there's nothing I can do about it.”

  “What about Fiona, then? Is she with him in his quarters or does she have her own residence?”

  “She has her own place. The residents are pretty traditional and wouldn't approve of them living together.”

  And he knows this how? “Okay, we go and get her to take us to him.”

  “We're talking about Fiona here. You know she'll probably refuse.”

  Seffy stood up crossed her arms. “Well, thanks for all your help.”

  Trent got to his feet and touched her shoulder. “You're not doing this alone.”

  “Then why are you trying to stop me?”

  He sighed. “Fine.”

  Seffy hid her relief. Her gumption was an act—she needed Trent's inside information more than she wanted to admit. Her bones still felt heavy and her head ached f
rom the crying jag. She went into the bathroom and was appalled at her wrecked appearance. She washed her face with cold water and brushed her teeth. A little makeup helped some, but there was just nothing for cry-baby face. When she returned to the main room, she saw Trent had changed his shirt.

  “It actually was pretty wet,” he said, chagrined. “I think you cried a couple of gallons at least.

  Seffy was too tired to be humiliated. “Sorry.”

  His gaze was assessing. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded and followed him out the door. They walked the seeming miles of corridors without speaking. As usual, few residents were out and about. It always struck Seffy as strange. Either people were outside in the gardens, or in their rooms, or some other gathering place she wasn't privy to. Not much in between.

  They arrived where Fenn's apartment was located, but stopped short of the last turn. Trent pointed at a door. “This is Fiona's residence.”

  Seffy took a deep breath and knocked. It wasn't quite ten yet. She should be up. But there was no response. Seffy knocked louder and waited with the same result. “Do you think she's with Fenn?”

  “Probably.”

  “Now what?”

  “I guess we have no choice but to ask the guards for admittance. If that doesn't work, we'll have to try reaching Fiona tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow. It seemed too far away to wait—even with the almost twenty-six extra years tacked on to her life. Trent led the way around the corner. She saw about six guards standing around. They immediately tensed when they saw them.

  “What do you want?” one of them sneered.

  “We want to see Fenn,” Trent said.

  The guard's expression turned to stone. He glanced at one of the other guards and nodded. Both stepped aside. “We have orders to allow you in, no questions asked.”

  Trent grabbed Seffy's hand and pulled her forward. He ignored the guards and opened the main door. When they were alone in the antechamber, he shook his head. “I can't believe it worked.”

  Seffy stared at the doors that led to Fenn's inner quarters, not caring about the guards either way. Why am I really here? She hardly knew Fenn. She thought about the first time she saw him. He'd looked good then. Healthy and strong, clear blue eyes—the dreamiest eyes she'd ever seen—made more startling by his dark hair and amazing cheekbones. He seemed kind, but distracted. Trent had even insisted he was attracted to her.

  He's basically a good guy, I think. And he needs help. So, he's worth the effort, right? Surely, such a promising specimen of manhood should inspire her to do whatever was required. And if that wasn't enough, a spirit of altruism should be enough to motivate her. The five hundred or so residents of the compound depended on him to keep things running—badly, in his case—but running nonetheless. So maybe her upcoming hop-scotch-through-time trip was for the greater good and all that. There. She'd almost convinced herself.

  Liar.

  Trent knocked on the door. Again there was no answer. He tried the knob and it turned in his hand. Pushing open the door, he led the way in.

  Seffy peeked past Trent's shoulder. It was dark. Only a floor lamp in one corner illuminated the space.

  “Hello? It's Trent and Sef.”

  Nothing.

  Trent checked the kitchen and the rooms past that. They were dark and empty. He headed to the bedrooms. Seffy stayed close behind. The eerie silence creeped her out. Why did she have a bad feeling they were about to be shocked again?

  They checked two bedrooms, both of which looked like guest rooms. They were also empty. Another door revealed a master bedroom. A king sized bed dominated the space, flanked on each side by nightstands, potted palms, and floor lamps. They saw that the blankets were a twisted mess. The nightstand was covered in medicine bottles.

  A muffled cry made Seffy jump.

  “In the bathroom,” Trent whispered. He hurried to the door and knocked. When there was no answer, he opened the door.

  The smell hit her first, making Seffy reel back from the opening. Pressing her hand to her nose, she saw Fenn hunched over the toilet, shirtless, retching until his ribs seemed to burst from his sides. Blood dripped from the scratched sores inside his arms. His blue eyes were clouded, his face, like moist wax.

  Fiona sat behind him, rubbing his back, her mouth trembling, tears running down her pale cheeks. She looked up as they entered, her eyes dull. “Withdrawals,” she whispered.

  Fenn convulsed over the toilet again, groaning in agony, his fingers clawing at his skin. Seffy backed out of the room and went to the center of his bedroom, breathing hard.

  Looks like I'll be making that trip after all.

  Chapter Five

  “Hey, Seffy, remember me?”

  Seffy peered at the man. There was something so familiar about him. So familiar she could almost taste it. Suddenly her brain fog cleared. The Gareth lookalike—the one she'd swapped zombie spit with. “Omigosh, Clay! How are you!”

  “Well, I've been better.”

  She frowned. “Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.”

  He smiled wryly. “You may remember we didn't part on the best of terms.”

  “Yeah, you're right. Then there was that whole shotgun thing. Awkward!”

  “Very.”

  “But hey, I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger.”

  “Yeah, I know it was Gareth. Frankly, I didn't think he had it in him.”

  “Gareth fools a lot of people that way. They think he's soft, but he can be hard.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Sometimes too hard, I think.”

  “Well, there is something you can do about that.”

  “What? I've tried everything. But he doesn't seem to want me any more.”

  “Maybe he would if you did something really special for him.”

  “Like bake a cake?” she said, excitement rising within her. “I can do that.”

  Clay shook his head. “Something even better.”

  “What?”

  “You can make him not die.”

  Seffy frowned. “That sounds hard.”

  “It is, kind of.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “Probably.”

  She started to cry. “I don't want it to hurt.”

  “But it will be worth it.”

  She sniffed. “So if I do this for Gareth, will he know it was me and take me back?”

  “I can't predict the future, but maybe—”

  “Seffy, who the hell are you talking to?”

  She felt hands on her arms, shaking her. She blinked and saw Trent, standing over her, his face blurry and far away. Seffy glanced past him and saw Clay leaving the room. She wasn't ready for him to go. She had too many questions.

  “Seffy, look at me.”

  Dragging her gaze from her door where Clay stood, she looked up at Trent again, wondering what he wanted.

  “Are you all there? You're wigging me out!”

  Turning her attention to her surroundings, Seffy realized she was sitting on her sofa. She suddenly felt as if she was a puppet and someone had cut the strings. Clutching her head in her hands, she sagged against the cushions.

  “You were talking to someone but you weren't asleep. Care to enlighten me?”

  Seffy squinted up at Trent after a moment. He stood with his hands on his Levi-covered hips, his expression tense.

  “I don't want to talk about it.”

  “Yeah, well you need your head straight to take this next step.”

  “Step?”

  “God, Sef, you're going back to the future today.”

  Memories trickled through her brain. She looked down and saw she was wearing her tattered Juicy Couture tracksuit. “I have to wear this.”

  Trent sat down next to her. “Yes, Eugene asked you to. He thinks it some kind of 'artifact'. And you'll need this, too.” He attached a narrow metal wristwatch around her wrist. “It's synchronized to compound time.”

  Ignoring the watch, she fiddled with the safety pin holding the front of her hoo
die closed. She could feel cool air on where her bare knee poked through a tear on the pants. “What's an artifact?”

  “In this case I guess it's like your time machine.”

  She frowned. “Somebody said if we used a wormhole, we wouldn't need a time machine.”

  “But you apparently need an artifact, which Eugene seems to think is a tracksuit.”

  Seffy sniggered, then burst out laughing. “God, you have to know they're making this up as they go.”

  Trent smiled, his eyes lit with guarded amusement. “You're probably right.”

  “So it's today?”

  He touched her arm. “Why don't you remember this? Did you visit any space ships last night?”

  She shrugged. “With me, who knows? I just feel kinda wonky.”

  “I swear to God if someone is slipping you mickeys again, I'll kill 'em.”

  “It's probably you. You're the bad guy. Like the butler.” She started laughing again.

  “Okay, you're totally losing it. Anyway, I'm the hero, not the butler.” His smile faded. “I think I should tell Eugene that you're not up to this.”

  “No!” Seffy bit her lip, nearly telling him about Clay. She knew he wouldn't understand. Seffy stood up, fighting a strong sensation of dizziness. “I'll do it. Um, for Fenn, right?”

  He got up, his expression telling her he wasn't exactly convinced she was ready. “Yeah.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Lani, Addison, and Gareth came in. Lani's big blue eyes were rimmed in red.

  “Now that it might actually happen, I don't want you to do this,” she sniffed, hugging Seffy hard. “Why can't we just be happy here?”

  “God, Sef, you must be freaked. I couldn't do it.”

  Seffy looked at Addison. “I am scared. But...” She glanced at Gareth, whose face was rigid. “But I want to.”

  Addison hugged her, the gesture stiff and awkward. “While you're there, you should seriously get yourself a new tracksuit.”

  “Yeah.” After Addison released her, Seffy walked up to Gareth. It took every ounce of self control not to launch herself into his arms and beg him to take her back.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  His cool tone felt like yet another slap. Seffy nodded, mashing her lip hard to keep it from trembling.