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He couldn't breathe. “That ... That's dreadfully unfair,” he gasped at last.
She removed her hand and he felt empty without it. “If you can find one thing about this situation that's fair,” she said, her voice bleak, “you be sure and tell me about it.”
“You should know,” he said, “that Headmistress Lionel-Spencer is aware of your situation. She at least suspects it. She’s the one who advised me to look at fundamentalist enclaves.” Moira's lips moved as they did when she was deep in thought, but she said nothing. Andy tried to squeeze a breath past the tightness in his chest. “Keep in mind that she does have resources. Far more than I do. Her reference will mean more than mine, although of course, you have mine, always. But consider letting me tell her about this. Or you could go to her, yourself. She is willing to help.”
Moira rubbed her face, covering a small groan with her hands. “I don't dare. One wrong move, one hint to my stepfather, and he'll take me out so fast, we'll never know it's happening. He has so many spies, so much surveillance in place.” She stood to face him, balancing on her toes as if she were preparing to run. “I've researched this. Asking for asylum sets in motion dozens of proceedings, all of them available to the abuser. Do you know that last year six hundred and eighty-seven cases of asylum for women were filed in Great Britain? Do you know how many were granted?” She didn't wait for his response. “Fifteen. Fifteen, Mr. Green. My odds are better on the streets of London. Don't let her get involved. If I disappear and he comes to question her, when he sends the authorities, she must be able to say that she knows nothing. Please, Mr. Green.”
Her words were like a slammed door. No wonder she was so desperate.
“All right. I'll take care of the Lioness. I'll assure her you have the situation under control. But I need you to promise me something, too.”
He could not take the chance she would refuse him. Friendship and respect would not get it for him. He took her hand in both of his and held it tenderly against his chest. She had to step closer to keep her balance, leaning against his legs. He looked into her eyes with all the frustrated love he harbored for her. Her pulse pounded against his hands, and a flush rose in her cheeks. But he didn't let go of her and she made no effort to move.
“If your plan does not work, if you find yourself in danger, you must promise to contact me. You have my Pad number. If you don't have it memorized, do so. I can do things, Moira. With computers, with security programs. My computers at Oxford are secure. They are that way because I circumvented the protocols.” He pressed her hand, pushing it against his chest. “You have my heart, Moira. Promise me. If you end up trapped, you will call me. Promise.”
“Yes,” she said, breathing hard. “All right. I promise.”
He wanted to lose himself in her eyes, to hold her and know she was safe. But he had sworn, so with the lightest caress of her arm, he let her go, and folded his arms across his chest. He nodded. “Thank you.”
He had sworn, and he would keep his word. But he memorized every movement as she left.
Chapter 12
The scotch was single malt and old, laid down at the turn of the century, and kept cozy in an underground vault for eighty years. Feldman took a minute to just breathe it in, letting the warm vapors tease his senses with dark perfume. The first sip was a caress, and he set the glass down with quiet regard.
The pub was old as well, having a storied history hosting many of Northern Ireland’s famous authors over three centuries. The wooden bar was filled with the after-work crowd, but Feldman sat well back in a quiet corner booth. He preferred his club, but came here often enough to be considered unsuspicious. It was a convenient place to meet various contacts. This was his business tonight, and he glanced up when a body slid into the seat across from him.
He nudged his glass a bit to the side, preferring to savor the sensuous scotch in private. “Is everyone in place?”
“Aye.” A ring glittered on the man’s hand as he drank from his pint. “Last team went up this morning. They’ll need a few days to set up the equipment.”
Feldman nodded. “They’ll have time. What is happening with O’Malley’s cell?”
“Business as usual far as I can see. Recruitment’s at about the same level and they’ve got a few combat training sessions going. We haven’t tried to interfere with them.”
“Don’t leave them alone completely,” Feldman said. “Harass them a bit, otherwise they’ll wonder why you’re ignoring them.”
“Yeah, all right. We have agents around where they can see them, so they know we’re still paying attention.” The man took another drink. “We’ve located a couple more splinter groups in the area. They don’t seem to be affiliated with the main rebel alliances, at least not officially. But if we know about ‘em, there’s no doubt the rebels know about ‘em, too. Fact is, I’m bloody sure they’re already hooking up with each other. O’Malley’s been especially eager to build up the ranks within Orion. He’s got his eye on a big prize, I’m thinkin’.”
Feldman leaned back in his chair, the picture of calm. “Not a problem. Once our current mission is completed, the rebel groups will be knocked out of existence. Let them play their games, for now.”
The man nodded, and soon went on his way. Feldman addressed his scotch and thought about Sam Altair. In some ways, the threat of an invasion from another timeline was an annoying distraction, interfering with the plans and actions of this world. But Feldman saw another way. Whoever came through from Sam’s timeline would be handled promptly.
And could possibly be quite useful.
~~~
Dinnie sat at her desk, scanning the pingback report that shimmered on her virtual terminal. The back of her neck itched with discomfort. So far, no other detectors had reported activity. There’d been eight probes around Belfast over the last two months, but that was it. If this was an invasion, they were sure going about it in a weird way.
Why Belfast? Why not London, Washington D.C., and all the other major cities, if a world invasion was their plan? Dinnie rubbed her neck, unable to relieve the itching. The only reason she could think of was that Belfast was where the Sun Consortium’s headquarters were.
I’m just a cog in the wheel around here. But I know enough to know who pulls the strings connected to world leaders.
If people from the second timeline wanted to dominate this world, taking down the consortium was the first step. Sam Altair would have known that. He would have warned his own leaders about it, and thus, their first target was Belfast. Perhaps they were hoping for a clandestine attack, to infiltrate Sun and bring it down quietly.
Memories surged. Dinnie closed her eyes, fingers shaking on the virtual keyboard.
The man in front of her was taller than her da’. The sun was behind him, blurring his face, but the smaller, duller sun-on-blue patch on his uniform jacket was clear. Almost, she turned to run, but indignation locked her knees and gave boldness to her thin voice. “My brother said he hacked into Sun’s ‘puters. Said he told the rebels about it and that he was gonna do it again.”
The man was nice. He gave her an apple and took her home, and told her to go play in her room. She obeyed, but after a minute slipped back down the hallway and peeked into the living room where the man talked to her ma and brother. Ma always defended Dinnie’s brother, and Dinnie wanted to make sure he got what was coming to him. But the scene in the room froze her in sudden fear.
Ma was on her knees, tears covering her face. She made no sound, hands clasping her throat as if she couldn’t breathe. The man stood by the sofa, holding onto her brother’s arm. Billy was still, his face so pale every freckle seemed to glow.
The man was talking. “ ... lockdown until we get to the bottom of this. If he’s found guilty, it will mean a prison sentence. If he’s innocent, he’ll be sent to infantry training to help him understand where his loyalties should lie. He’ll be assured of a job and a good future that way, ma’am.”
Thirty years later, in
front of her computer at the Sun Consortium, Dinnie covered her face with her hands as she heard once again the wordless, echoing moan her mother had made as the man walked away with Billy. The hearing did not prove his guilt, but it was five years before they saw him again, tall and brooding in his own Sun uniform.
I was only four years old, Dinnie thought. He broke my only doll on purpose. I just wanted to get him into trouble.
“I didn’t know.” She whispered the words to the data on her terminal, her whole body shaking with guilt. How could a four-year-old understand the ways of power and control?
Billy had been just thirteen at the time.
Whoever these people were who were trying to cross here from another universe, they couldn’t be any worse than the monsters who ran her own world.
Could they? Did she dare take the chance?
Did she dare do nothing?
She locked her computer and stood, reaching for her jacket. It was time to set things right. Her bosses played their positions like a game, trading the lives of innocent people for power and riches. Sam Altair was bringing in new players, but right now, only Sun’s leaders knew that.
She’d never tried contacting the rebels before, but she had to now.
It was time to alert the other side.
Second Universe
Chapter 13
1980
Cave Hill
Belfast, Ireland
Jamie bounced on his toes, unable to keep still as the last bit of preparations for the journey were completed. After three months of analyzing probe data, they were actually doing this crazy thing.
His mind flitted to a loose end and he turned to his niece. “Are you wearing your thermals, Sarah?”
She didn't answer right away, instead rolling her eyes toward Sam, as if for assistance. But Sam was kneeling in front of the main CERBO unit, busy with inputs, and Jamie didn’t think he was listening.
“Yes, Uncle Jamie,” she said. “The latest temperature reading in the other Belfast was minus eight in the middle of the afternoon. Do you think I'm daft, to go without warm clothing?”
“I don't think you're daft,” he said. “But you might have forgotten. And I’d prefer you took extra air, too.”
“The atmosphere is perfectly breathable,” Sam said, rising from his knees and staring at the time machine. He'd been listening, after all.
“For a loose interpretations of either of those words,” Jamie said. “I do wish we had taken readings in other places on the planet.”
“We’re not going to spend enough time in 2080 to make it necessary,” Sam said.
Jamie continued to bounce with his last-minute jitters. He always had them before a big experiment.”I know you've built fail-safes into the machine. It's shielded ...”
“And there's that automatic return built in, too, and the chemical tracker we put in our bloodstreams ...” Sarah said.
“ ... so you'll be returned to our own universe after seven days, even if you're unconscious. Or dead.” Jamie finished. “That makes me feel so much better.” He squelched an upsurge of annoyance as Sam and Sarah exchanged a glance. “Do not attempt to humor the old man. My concerns are more than valid.”
Sam leaned against the wall of the cave. “Sure you don't want to come with us? You've worked on this your entire life.”
On the verge of spouting off his usual answer, Jamie paused and gave it some thought. This would be his last chance. Then he shook his head, turning a troubled look on Sam. “I don't. I remember, you see.”
Sam's head jerked sideways. “Remember what, sir?”
“Grandpa Sam.” Jamie found himself speaking softly as he thought of the old man. “He was happy enough, I think. But I always sensed that he was ... disturbed. That he never quite fit.”
He glanced at Sarah, smiling reassurance. “My mum was just my mum, always there, and somehow always a part of my father. An extension of him, I guess. Or he was of her, more likely. Either way, they were nearly one being in my mind. I never noticed that she was different from everyone around her. But Grandpa Sam was like a splinter in your hand. It was easy to see he didn't belong. That he pushed constantly at the boundaries of our world, not because he was curious, but because he was desperate.”
Sarah touched his hand. “I don't understand,” she said, her eyes concerned. Those eyes were so much like his mother's.
“He felt responsible, you see,” Jamie said. “He wanted to get back to his own world, sure enough. But even that would not have satisfied him, for he felt almost as if he had created us. Our world. He had to understand, because it was his fault this timeline existed.”
He looked from Sarah to Sam, and shook his head again. “Crossing to the first timeline won’t hurt anything. But going back again, to 2006, will create still another universe. Quite honestly, I do not want that responsibility. And I don't envy you taking it on.”
Interesting how the two kids avoided looking at each other. No doubt they had already discussed this very thing. Sam had always been unhappy about that part of the project.
A beep broke the silence and they all turned to look at CERBO, to find its green ready light staring at them. The next move was theirs.
His niece took a deep breath that she did not quite let out, scooped her jacket from its perch on a nearby rock, and pulled her gloves from a pocket. Jamie watched her in slight shock, knowing she was really going through with it. Sam reached for his own jacket, his movements not quite as confident as Sarah's.
Jamie waited until she lifted her eyes to his. He held out a hand, and with a small smile, she put herself in his arms, squeezing him gently. Her hair smelled like summer.
“We'll be careful, Uncle Jamie,” she said against his chest. She didn't promise to be all right.
He nodded. “That's all I can ask.” He found he couldn't say more around the tightness of his throat. She moved away and Jamie turned to Sam, grasping his arm in both his hands. “I know you'll take care of her.”
“Of course I will.” Sam's voice was confident, but his eyes betrayed his uncertainty. He huffed, “She'll probably be the one taking care of me, you know.”
“Aye, well, we all expect that, lad,” Jamie said. Placing an arm about each of their shoulders, he walked with them to the middle of the cave. With a final squeeze, he left them there, moving to his place behind CERBO.
Sam tapped his gloves against his leg. “No time change. Just a straight shot across the chasm to the other universe. Over there, the year is 2080.”
Jamie nodded. This wasn't new information. It was more like Sam's final pep talk. Sarah was pale, as if she was just now realizing what they were doing.
Sam glanced at Sarah, then back at Jamie. “We'll look around the cave area, and take our own samples, just to get our bearings and do a check of the portable CERBO.” He gestured toward the backpack at his feet. The portable time machine was packed into it, along with the chip that directed the neutrinos back in time. “We'll send you a message no later than,” he glanced at his watch, “sixteen-hundred hours.” Jamie glanced at his own watch. That was thirty-five minutes from now. “Once we get your acknowledgment, we'll light up our CERBO and go back in time to 2006.”
Sam looked as if he was going to say more, but no words came. He stared at Jamie, then nodded, as if to himself. Jamie nodded back, feeling his features sink into a frown. His eyes moved from Sam to Sarah and back again. He watched as they helped each other zip jackets, and put on hats and backpacks, touching each other in timorous, loving ways. Jamie flinched, as if his body wanted to jump up and pull them out of the isolation field. He forced himself to stillness.
Then they were all staring at each other. Sam turned to Jamie, lifting his wrist to tap his watch. “Ready,” he said.
Jamie reached forward and flipped a switch. “Ten seconds.” He couldn't look away from them.
Sarah suddenly smiled, a big, happy smile that lit up her face, and she lifted a hand. “We're doing it, Uncle Jamie. I love you.”r />
He lifted his own hand, watching as the two of them took each other's hands, and vanished.
“I love you, too,” he said.
First Universe
Chapter 14
Cave Hill
Belfast, Northern Ireland
Sam didn't feel any different, but he knew without doubt that something had happened. He noticed the cave looked different, and on the heels of that, so close it was nearly the same observation, he noticed Sarah stood next to him, whole and well.
They stared at each other in stunned silence. Sarah was pale, her eyes like green beacons against a white sea. He squeezed her hand.
“Are you all right?” His voice was reedy and he suspected he was experiencing some shock.
Her fingers tightened against his palm. “We did it,” she whispered. He grinned, and her face lit up. “We did it!” she shouted, and threw her arms around him. He held her firmly and laughed into her neck.
“Let's look around,” he said. “We've got to report to your uncle soon.”
“Right ...” she began, but paused as the sound of running feet crunching on dirt floated into the cave. Sam stepped in front of Sarah just as a wall of white-suited soldiers burst through the entrance.
The soldiers wore helmets with opaque facemasks, white coveralls belted with black utility packs, black boots on their feet, and black gloves on their hands. Their menacing black rifles pointed straight at him.
He held up his hands. “Please, we mean no harm ...”but there was a sound of air singing through a tube, and his body exploded in agony. The blank darkness that followed was a welcome relief.