Making Time, page 12
I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath of superheated, moist air.
“It’s a tryin’ time,” the soldier said, but whether he was talking about the loss of a loved one or the Vietnam War and its casualties, I couldn’t tell.
“How long are you here for?” Mimi asked.
“Our leave ends in two days time. Then it’s back to the jungle.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“No need for that, ma’am. Ivy can take care of her own.”
“Ivy?” Mimi asked.
“Fourth Infantry Division. IV. Get it?”
Mimi smiled, and the soldier grinned back. And then he was tipping his hat and dodging the puddles and running through the rain back to his battalion.
“The Vietnam War,” Mimi said softly. “I’d forgotten it was happening right now.”
“The soldiers spent time in Singapore on R&R,” I said, unsure how to make the sadness that had entered Mimi’s voice disappear.
“Do you think he made it?”
I stared off down Orchard Road and searched for the infantryman through the sheets of rain and said, “He made it.”
Mimi just smiled. It didn't reach her eyes.
“But his appearance does make one wonder,” I added.
“What’s that?”
“Is it merely a coincidence that the American military is here at the same time Sergei Ivanov is here?”
“What would the American military effort in Vietnam have to do with space travel?” Mimi asked.
“I don’t know, Miss Wylde. But shall we relocate to a more promising location?”
“Such as?”
“Bugis,” I said.
“Bugis?”
“I do believe those soldiers on leave from the Vietnam War often found entertainment in Bugis.”
“And what will Ivanov find in Bugis?” Mimi asked.
“Let’s go and see, shall we?”
We handed our empty glasses back to the stall owner and made our way towards the MPCV. We could have left it where it was and used contemporary methods to reach Bugis, but I wanted to check on the state of the sine wave. And the only way to achieve that was to touch base with Rafe and Orion 6a.
The going was tough, even though the rain had eased somewhat. The lighter spattering seemed to call out more people, and the crush of pedestrians became difficult to navigate. By the time we made it back to the section of Orchard Road where the Orion had been hiding, we’d been out of the Vehicle for two hours.
My shirt was drenched, my skin felt sticky, and despite that glass of chilled water and the torrential rain, I was parched. A change of clothing and a chance to refresh was also in order.
We rounded the corner into the darkened alleyway where the Vehicle had been hiding and both let out a relieved breath of air. The hatch still stood open, and Rafe waved an insouciant hand upon seeing us. I hadn’t wanted to consider what would have transpired should the MPCV have disappeared, but it seemed our breaking of RATS’ rules and keeping the module in Real Time was working.
I followed Mimi into the Vehicle and secured the hatch, and then Rafe shifted dimensions.
“Dr Bauer’s team still tethered?” I asked.
“Yep, and Time seems to be behaving itself.”
“How’s the rip?”
“Still bright orange, but it’s not expanded,” Rafe offered. “In fact, it might have even decreased in size and colour a smidgeon.”
“You haven’t mended it?” I queried.
“Nope, and Bauer has been twiddling her thumbs as well.”
“Good. Let’s see what happens when we shift to Bugis,” I said. “In particular, Haji Lane and the red light district.”
Rafe sniggered. “Looking to spice up your love life, Jack?”
“Very funny. Enter the coordinates.”
“Roger copy,” Rafe said with a sloppy salute. “So, why Bugis?”
“American soldiers,” Mimi said.
“Then you are looking to spice up your love life.”
It was Mimi who hit him over the back of the head this time. Rafe just laughed.
“All right. All right. Here we are. Haji Lane and your lecture theatre of choice du jour.”
“Lecture theatre?” Mimi asked, zipping up a new, dry sundress. “Where did you learn your moves, Rafe? Sexism 101?”
“Sexy Surgeon 101,” Rafe deadpanned. “And I’ll have you know, I’m working on my honours degree.”
“At least you’re working on something,” I muttered, and brushed down a clean shirt. “Ready?” I asked Mimi.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, and Rafe smirked.
“Let’s hope Sergei’s ready and waiting, too,” I offered and started on the hatch.
The rain had settled, but the street smelled wet and faintly leafy, like a tropical forest although there were no trees here. Colourful colonial terraced houses stood sentinel on either side of a narrow roadway, small coffee shops and bars under their awnings. Clothes hung on rods sticking out of windows above our heads. Signs painted with Chinese characters touted services and wares. American soldiers leaned against archways and chatted up local girls. The smell of tobacco mixed in with cinnamon, cloves and star anise.
I turned around and checked on the location of the module, ensuring it was sufficiently out of the thoroughfare. Chances were it would be spotted, but it blended into the shadows and grimy corners of the small Bugis alleyway adequately. And if anyone could talk himself out of a difficult situation with curious locals, Rafe Hoffman could.
I nodded my head to him and placed my hand on the small of Mimi’s back, leading her toward the busier area of Haji Lane…when stars appeared all around us.
Mimi and I turned back to the MPCV.
I started running.
Mimi shouted something.
And Rafe winked out of sight.
25
I Could Handle Mikaela Pratt
Mimi
“No!” I shouted as I watched Jack run towards the Orion. But it was obvious before he’d even taken a couple of steps that he wouldn’t make it.
Orion 6a blinked out of sight in a hail of stars falling and nebula clouds forming. The sound of rocket engines dissipated on the humid air, quickly followed by Haji Lane’s mundane noises.
I could hear Chinese being spoken in the distance, and someone with an America accent was asking “How much?” Music sounded out; someone selling something from a cart loudly touted his wares. The sound of laughter reached our darkened corner as Jack stood stock still, staring at where Rafe and the Orion had just disappeared.
Not Rafe, I thought. Not him, too.
“The hatch was open,” Jack murmured.
I took the necessary steps to reach him, but my legs felt like lead weights, and my heart felt torn in two.
“What does that mean?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.
“The hatch was open,” Jack repeated softly as if he couldn’t say another word.
I reached up to touch his shoulder; he was made of rock; rigid in his disbelief.
“Maybe he just shifted dimensions. Would the hatch being open cause a problem then?”
Jack shook his head, but I wasn't sure if it was an answer to my question or him merely unable to comprehend what had just transpired.
He reached a shaking hand up to the sleeve of his shirt and pressed the call button.
Nothing happened.
Rafe did not blink back into sight.
“Fuck,” he said, running a hand through his hair and turning to look down at me. Without another word, he pulled me into an embrace.
We stood like that for a very long time, neither of us saying a word.
Then an MPCV burst into existence, practically on top of us.
I screamed.
Jack shouted, “Bloody fucking bollocks!”
And the module let out a shot of gas and then settled into a slow ticking.
The hatch opened, and Dr Bauer looked out.
“We lost Orion 6a,” she said by way of greeting.
“The tether?” Jack asked, stepping away from his embrace of me.
Mikaela Pratt stared out around Dr Bauer and narrowed her eyes at the scene. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried not to shiver.
Not Rafe. Not him, too.
“Kaputt,” Bauer was saying to Jack. “And we can’t locate Orion 6a. What happened?”
Jack shook himself and then stepped toward Bauer’s Vehicle.
“First, let’s shift dimensions,” he said, stepping up into the module itself.
I followed behind numbly.
Inside, Pratt had returned to the Intern’s seat, Dr Bauer hovered by the command chair, and Andrew Lewis sat at the Novitiate’s post. He smiled at me and then returned his attention to the console before him. I glanced at the only other seat unoccupied. The Vehicle felt a little too cramped.
“Is that wise?” Dr Bauer asked Jack. “The fewer movements we make, dimensionally or otherwise, the safer surely?”
Jack scratched at his jaw and then closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath of air.
“Rafe wasn’t doing a thing when he vanished,” he said quietly.
“That doesn't mean we won't get caught up in whatever this is and be lost, as well,” Bauer argued. “I suggest we make a return to RATS.”
Jack stared out at the camera view on the main screen and said nothing. I could see a muscle ticking in his jaw. He didn't want to leave Rafe behind. But Rafe could be anywhere. Hell, Rafe could even be back at RATS.
Either one of them.
“All right,” Jack finally said. “We’ll return.”
“Here,” Mikaela said, standing. “Please, have my seat, Doctor.”
Bauer grunted something that sounded like agreement and took the command chair. Pratt had already shifted to the other side of the Vehicle, leaving her seat open for Jack. Jack looked at me, clearly wanting us to stay together, but there wasn't room at the Intern’s console, and everyone was looking up at him expectantly.
Mikaela acted as if nothing was awkward at all and sat herself down in the fourth, usually unused, chair.
“Take a pew, Novitiate,” she said, indicating the floor.
Jack stared at me and then went to open his mouth.
I sat down on the floor before he said something he’d regret. Sally may have thought our relationship was open knowledge, but it wasn't really. People suspected, but as long as they only suspected, I’d be allowed to continue to fly with Jack. As soon as it became official, I’d be farmed out to another Orion.
Things were foreign enough for me as it was, I wasn't sure I could handle a new Surgeon. And God help me if I ended up with either Harding or Pratt as my Interns.
Jack couldn't let his feelings for me show. Not to such a degree. If he insisted I take the seat, and he sit on the floor, it would look odd. Overly correct English manners or not, he was still a Surgeon, and I was only a Novitiate.
I made myself as comfortable as possible and wrapped my hand around the nearest seat. Which happened to be Pratt’s, of course.
Jack sat down in the Intern’s chair, and Bauer said something about buckling up. And then she was hitting the launch button after entering RATS’ coordinates, and Mikaela was unwrapping my fingers from their claw-like grip of her seat while kicking out with her booted foot at my side…and I went flying.
G-forces pressed me into the cabinets on the other side of the module, and then the weightlessness of spaceflight had me lifting off the floor and floating toward the lagged pipes and exposed wires on the ceiling. And then the engines kicked back in, and Jack was shouting, and Mikaela was grinning, and I hit down hard; my face smacking into the dimpled, unforgiving metal floor with a loud crack.
Blood oozed out of my nose and stars, not time travel assisted stars but concussion based ones, sparkled all around me.
And then Jack was touching me and saying something I couldn't hear, and the Orion became darker and darker still, and then finally unconsciousness took all the pain away.
“What the bloody fucking hell happened?” I heard Jack yell.
He’d clearly not calmed down since the landing and had brought his anger to the sickbay with him.
And then my hand found the dimpled floor beneath me, and I groaned.
I’d only been out for a few seconds.
“Take it easy, Mouse,” a voice said off to the side.
“Dean?” I asked, my smashed nose making me sound like Minnie Mouse. I started laughing. Which didn’t help my bruised face at all.
“Dr Evans,” Dean called. “She’s awake.”
“Mimi?” Jack said urgently. “Where does it hurt?”
“Dose,” I said indistinctly.
“I don't think it’s broken,” Dean offered. “But you’ll ‘ave a nice set of shiners come tomorrow.”
“Why did you let go?” Jack asked.
I blinked up at him, the Orion coming into better focus. Bauer stood on one side of Jack, looking alarmed but stoic. Lewis stood at the back of the group biting his bottom lip. And Mikaela stared daggers at me, daring me to mention her part in my free-fall through space.
I could have just dropped her in it. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider it. But even if I knew cutting Mikaela some slack on this would not result in us becoming BFFs any time soon, I also knew I had to fight my own battles.
I could handle Mikaela Pratt.
“My hand slipped,” I said softly.
Mikaela arched her brow and then sneered at me; she thought I was intimidated.
I let her think that. Sometimes allowing your opponent to believe you less than you actually were was a good thing.
Now, I just had to use her false sense of security against her.
But how I’d achieve that with Rafe missing and Fawkes and Jessop dead and only one functioning Orion left standing; I didn't know.
And then when I stepped down from the module and looked back at our last available time machine, I realised how precarious everything actually was.
Orion 6b stared back at me. The same Orion I’d rescue Jack on in the alternate 23rd Century. The one he’d seen in his prophetic dream at a destroyed RATS.
Bloody effing bollocks, I thought glumly.
26
It Would Seem So, Doctor
Jack
“There’s no trace of him,” Murray said as he entered the meeting room. “The dispatcher can't find a hint of Orion 6a’s location on any time wave. It’s as if it simply disappeared.”
“Like the rest of our Orions,” Sebastian said.
“Which leaves us in a rather precarious position,” Clive muttered from the head of the table.
“One Orion left,” I murmured.
Every single Surgeon around the table nodded glumly. This was, by far, the worst situation RATS had found itself in for quite some time. I looked toward Simon Cathcart.
“How are your efforts with building an additional Vehicle going?” I asked.
“Slow. Don't expect one any time soon.”
“Can’t you hurry it up a bit?” Sebastian demanded.
“You think building a machine that travels through Time’s waves is an easy thing to achieve?” Simon snapped.
“It’s not rocket science,” Murray murmured, and all the anger left the room immediately.
Bryan would have said that. He was always the one to defuse a situation with a ridiculous joke or witty observation. He’d be sitting there, as troubled as the rest of us, throwing peanuts up into the air and catching them in his mouth as though he didn’t care; feet up on the table until Clive told him to behave himself.
It wasn't that Bryan didn’t understand the nuances of a tense situation. It was as if he couldn’t help making light of things. It was his coping mechanism. And I hadn't realised how much we’d relied on it.
And now he was gone.
As was Rafe.
I stood up from my seat and crossed to the coffee making stand in the corner of the room. Staring down at the options available, I let out a frustrated huff of breath. A hip flask appeared before me.
I turned to see who offered the drink, only to be surprised by its owner.
“You look like you could use this,” Sebastian said, and then returned to his seat.
I picked the flask up and undid the lid, then turned and leaned against the cabinets and took a swig. You could always trust Bryan to make a joke and Sebastian to have whisky.
“What do we do now?” Belinda asked.
“What can we do?” Clive offered. “We build more Orions as quickly as we can, and we use the one we’ve got to fix only the most urgent of rips. Otherwise, we wait. And we watch.”
“What about Rafe?” I asked.
“He could be anywhere,” Clive said.
“I know exactly where he is. In 1967.”
Clive stared at me.
“And what about Bryan?” he finally said. “You know exactly where he was in the 23rd Century, as well. Will you play so loosely with Time?”
“Death is final,” I said. “I know this. Countering it is a dangerous line we never cross. But we don’t know that Rafe is dead.”
“We don't know he’s alive either,” Murray said, not unkindly.
“We go after our Interns regularly,” I argued. “Is this any different?”
“Sergei took our Interns,” Belinda offered.
“We assume Sergei took our Interns,” I corrected her. “We have no proof, save a history of confrontations with Lunik growing increasingly more perilous. There is no unequivocal evidence of death in either case. No sustained PDR withdrawals to prove a fatality. Therefore they live. As does Rafe.”
“How do you know there are no sustained Prophetic Dreamscape Realisation withdrawals regarding Dr Hoffman?” Clive asked.
“We’d have heard by now,” I said.
Clive just shook his head at me.
“It’s too risky,” he finally said. “We have one solitary Orion left to us. To risk it on a wild goose chase…”
“It’s not a wild goose chase!” I snapped. “He’s out there! And we need to find him.”
