“Okay?” Lainey said, giving him an irritated glare as he sat silent. “So, what can I do for you, Captain Rhodes?”
“Well, Dr. Randolph, it’s actually very simple.” Sitting taller in the chair, he shot her a pointed look. “I need you to transport me back to 2063 so I can save my wife from being murdered.”
And then, as if he’d asked her to pass the salt instead of dropping an epic bomb on the entire room, he stood, gave her a nod, and stalked from the chamber.
Chapter 6
Hunter spent the rest of the morning checking on his men, ensuring their tents were stable around the hub and that their spirits were high. They all seemed fine, secure in their orders and their duty to protect the compound. Thankful for their loyalty, he set up his own tent directly outside Lainey’s bedroom window. The men had established a perimeter around the hub, but he’d instructed them to leave that spot open. He took his vow to protect the duchess of the compound seriously. It was imperative that she succeed.
Once his tent was set, he pulled off his tattered clothes, excited to be in a stable spot with a nearby river where they could do laundry. To state it plainly, he and his men smelled like the bad side of a pit bull.
With a towel wrapped around his waist, Hunter located the outdoor shower, ecstasy thrumming in his veins as he stepped underneath. The water was cold but it was clean, and that was more than he’d had in a while. Using the last of his shampoo rations, he washed his hair and body, grinning to himself as he wondered if Claire was sneaking a peek. Unconcerned, he slid his hands over his nakedness. Modesty was a luxury that had left him long ago.
Once clean, he wrapped the towel around his waist and dressed in his tent. His ears perked as he heard a rustling by the door. Unzipping it, he pulled back the fabric, only to find a morose-looking Dr. Elaine Randolph standing outside.
“What’s up?” he asked, understanding he’d opened a can of worms she most certainly was here to grill him about.
“I…um.” She glanced at the ground. “Can we go somewhere and talk for a minute? There’s a thicket back there with some chairs where I sit when I need fresh air.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Would you rather I put on some clothes first?”
Amber irises darted over his chest, covered with a smattering of dark hair and a fair amount of scarring.
Lainey cleared her throat. “Yes, please.” Nose slightly upturned, she looked like a regal queen trying not to be offended at his state of near-nakedness. Interesting. Was Dr. Randolph a prude?
“Okay,” he said, taking pity on her as her cheeks enflamed from peach, to pink, to red. “Give me a sec. I know the clearing.”
Lainey paused, scrutinizing him, and Hunter realized his slip. He shouldn’t possess knowledge of the spots where she sought solace. Mentally cursing, he arched a brow.
“Or I could just come like this…” He reached for the hem of the towel, ready to yank it from his hips.
“Fully clothed will be fine,” she said, giving him a glare. Chin lifted, she scurried off, spurring a huffed laugh from his throat.
After throwing on black pants, a t-shirt, and boots—his standard technical gear—he walked past the showers situated behind the hub and through the thicket of bushes. Lainey sat in the high-backed wooden chair, eyes closed, the back of her head resting on the seat. She looked so peaceful—young, even—and it was evident the spot held reverence for her.
“This is where my father and I would sit and discuss our theories,” she murmured, lids still shut as she gestured toward the open seat beside her. “Parallel universes, different versions of space-time, was Carl Sagan the greatest scientific communicator who ever lived? That sort of stuff.”
“Sounds heavy,” Hunter said, lowering into the seat.
“Actually, the opposite,” she replied, opening her eyes and genuinely smiling at him for the first time. It caused his heart to skip, if only a beat. “It’s when I felt most connected to him. We shared a love of science that was embedded in our souls. It was our religion. Our reason to be, so to speak. It’s one of the purest phenomena I’ve ever felt.”
“I understand that. I felt that with someone once.”
She sighed, soft and breathy. “So, you had a wife.”
Hunter tilted his head. “I had a wife.”
“And she was killed by the New Establishment.”
He felt the muscle tick in his jaw. “Yes.”
Silence stretched between them, connecting them as they mulled until words could take its place.
“I won’t ask for details. I’m a very private person and understand the need to hold things inside.” Turning her head so that her temple rested against the chairback, she continued, “But do you understand what you’re really asking here? It’s not as simple as you think.”
Hunter’s eyes darted between hers. Inhaling a large breath, he let his gaze rove to the thick tree in front of him, the intensity of her stare too deep. “I discussed it at length with your father. I understand my success is most likely impossible.” Cementing his gaze to hers, he said, “But I have to try, Elaine. I won’t forgive myself if I don’t.”
She blinked rapidly, and Hunter could almost see the gears shifting in her brain. “There’s a paradox that occurs with time travel that’s called the ‘fate paradox.’ Essentially, it states that if a person is meant to die at a certain moment of their life, nothing can prevent that from happening. So, for example, if I had a friend who died in a fire in 2050, and I wanted to go back and save her, I could save her from the fire, but she would then soon perish in a different accident. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” Hunter said. “You’re assuming Kara’s predetermined date to die was April 9, 2063.”
“It’s a possibility. It’s hard to comprehend, especially for a scientist like me who doesn’t believe in fate or religion or any of that pish-posh. But,” she said, holding a finger in the air, “I do believe in energy, and the fact it can neither be created nor destroyed. Each person’s soul has been calculated to carry a small amount of energy. Therefore, I can plausibly make the argument that a person’s soul, and the energy it contains, is predetermined to leave the Earth at a certain time to allow the entrance of an equal amount of energy. Perhaps a baby that’s born at that moment, or something else to the like.” Lifting her eyebrows, she asked, “Am I being an over-explanative scientist at the moment?”
Hunter laughed. “No, I get it. There’s a possibility that no matter what I do, she’ll still die. I’ve lived through that before, and it would be devastating to do it again. But I owe it to her to try.”
She nodded. “I understand. I really do. If I could go back and save my father, I’d do it a thousand times over.”
“Do you believe his death was predetermined?”
“I do,” she said with a conceding shrug. “He was sick, and it was time for his soul to leave this part of the universe. And still believing that, I would try.”
“But you have a more important mission.”
“Yes. I have to go back to 2035 and prevent my grandfather from detonating the apocalypse.”
“But your grandfather died that day as well. How can you ensure you’ll still be born if he perishes in your attempts to stop him?”
“Ah, the perplexity of time travel,” she said, squeezing the flat arms of the seat with her hands. “Since he died in this reality but still, I was born, scientific theory states I would still be born in the new reality. My father and mother were already married when he set off the nukes and they still had me. I should be okay. But,” she said, giving a slight shrug, “I can’t guarantee it. Honestly, I have absolutely no idea what will happen.”
“That must be tough for a smart-mouthed scientist like you who has all the answers.”
Lainey shot him a look.
“Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands and chuckling. “Just an observation.”
“What I think will happen,” she said, glaring at him as she continued, “is that once I stop hi
m, it will create a new thread of space-time. One where the Speaker of the House will assume the Presidency, and President Randolph and his supporters will spend the rest of their lives in prison. The Speaker’s name was Anita Rohan, and she was said to be an amazing public servant with a kind and generous heart. Hopefully, she will guide the world to greatness and live in a thread where this dystopian future never existed.”
“And you’ll be stuck there, in a time that isn’t yours.”
“Yes,” she said, her expression thoughtful. “It’s what would happen to you too.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you go back to save your wife. You’re twelve years older now. You’ll go back as your present self. Even if you save her, she would continue her life in the new timeline with that younger version of Hunter, not the version you are today.”
“Yes, your father explained that to me. I recognize I’ll be saving Kara for my younger self. I accept that. I can live a good life off the land, somewhere secluded and quiet. I don’t need much. I’ve already had everything a man can dream of. Although, maybe I could have a conversation with my younger self about not being such a dick about the little things. I used to get so pissed at Kara when she’d forget to clean her hair out of the bathtub drain. Now, I’d give anything to see that wet gob of hair.” His smile was sweet but sad, spurring a flare of compassion in her cynical heart.
“You obviously can’t approach or converse with that version of yourself. You do know that, right? Having direct contact with a younger version of yourself would completely destroy the space-time continuum.”
“Got it, Doc Brown,” he said, giving her a good-natured salute.
“Back to the Future,” she said, surprised he knew the movie. “One of my Dad’s favorites.”
“My grandfather was a huge fan. He raved about Marty McFly and Doc. Seems like we have our own real-life version. He’d be tickled all shades of pink.”
Lainey laughed, surprised the hardened soldier liked old time travel movies. What other secrets did he hold inside? Between that and the bombshell revelation about his wife, he’d already shocked the hell out of her.
“Well,” she said, rubbing her palms over her jean-clad thighs, “looks like we’re a bunch of martyrs, resigned to go back and change history and live in a world that isn’t ours.”
“Looks like it.”
The song of a nearby bird blanketed them as they contemplated the gravity of their future choices.
Finally, Lainey said, “You know, I’m not a field trip director here. I hadn’t really planned on sending any other people back besides my team. I can’t guarantee your safety. It’s possible you might die on the trip back. Wormholes are extremely unstable.”
Reaching over, he grasped her hand with his. “I won’t sue you, Dr. Randolph. Rest assured.”
She gave a pfft and waved her free hand through the air. “You and what lawyers? I don’t think our isle has had a functional courthouse since 2038.”
“Then you’re safe.” Releasing her hand, he gave her a half-grin. “Please, Elaine. I know your father made this promise for you, but I need your help. Please, do this for me.”
She stood, rotating to face him, and placed her hands on her hips. Hunter gazed up at her, unable to not notice the small swells of her breasts under her brown V-neck t-shirt. She was tall and lanky—so different from Kara, who’d been petite and curvy. And yet there was a feminine air to her, something earthy and undecipherable, causing him to imagine what secrets her body held. Was she a quiet lover? Did she moan or scream? Whoever had those answers was a lucky man.
“I’ll send you back, Captain Rhodes, but I’ll caution you with this warning. Be careful what you wish for. Changing the past isn’t for the faint of heart. It comes with a thousand unanswered questions and a lifetime of loneliness. Take time to think about it before you commit. In the meantime, I’ve got to get the damn Sphere working if we have any hope at all. With that, I’ll leave you to your men.” With a firm tilt of her head, she breezed past him and headed back toward the hub.
Hunter sat for a moment contemplating the magnitude of their discussion. He was so close to achieving a goal he’d spent years contriving. Intent on maintaining his commitment to protect Elaine while she worked, he stood and stretched, readying his muscles for the day. Glancing at his watch and noting it was almost eleven hundred hours, he called to his men to gather around the entrance to the hub.
Cyrus exited through the massive door, followed by two hulking soldiers, one tow-headed, and the other one with jet-black hair. Their expressions were serious and unyielding.
“These your two holdouts from the Old Rebellion?” he asked Cyrus.
“Yes,” the man said, his features expressionless.
“You two willing to do what it takes for the cause?” he asked, tilting his head so he could see the recruits behind Cyrus’s massive body.
“Yes, sir,” they responded.
“Good,” Hunter said, reaching into his pockets to find his toothpicks. Placing one in his mouth, he trained his irises to Cyrus’s dark ones. “I think we should divide into three groups. You and a third of my men can canvas the river. I’ll go with blondie back there and another battalion to scope out the perimeter.” The tow-headed soldier scowled. “Enrique Iglesias can hang back and work with the rest of my men to guard the compound.”
“I have no idea who that is,” the dark-haired man muttered to the blond soldier.
Hunter shrugged. “Early twenty-first-century singer. My wife was obsessed with his music…and maybe other things. Didn’t mean any offense.”
“Ivan and Steven will carry out those orders,” Cyrus said, a warning in his tone. “And you will address them with respect.”
“Y’all are a barrel of laughs around here,” Hunter grunted. “Fine.” He waved his hand. “Let’s get to work. C’mon, men,” he said, addressing those that surrounded him. “Brigade one with me, Brigade two with Cyrus, and Brigade three will stay here with Steven. You have your orders. Let’s go.”
The men dispersed, and Hunter was thankful he had a task to consume the next few hours. Elaine could work on the Sphere while he got to know Ivan better and safeguarded the hub. Being busy was good. Hunter did his best to stay occupied at all times, even at night, once the sun had set and his men had long fallen to sleep. When one was busy, they didn’t have time to focus on all their previous failures and heartache.
Chapter 7
Lainey worked with her team for hours trying to recreate the wormhole they’d generated the previous day. Unfortunately, the efforts were a disaster, and the reworked equations produced subpar results. After several attempts, they couldn’t even get the wormhole to form, much less transport anything of note.
“Okay, guys,” she said, massaging her temples and giving a silent lecture to her impending migraine to stay the hell away, “enough for today. It’s after seven o’clock. Go grab some dinner and head to your chambers. We’ll resume in the morning.”
Zach gathered his notebook and tablet, giving her a soft smile before climbing out of the hatch. Sighing, Lainey shook her head at Claire.
“I’m worried about them,” she said softly.
“Nelson and Lorna are fine, boss,” Claire said, gripping Lainey’s shoulder and imparting a reassuring smile. “The New Establishment would never murder the second smartest person on Earth. They need his brain.”
“If they threaten Lorna, he’ll turn over every piece of work to them,” Lainey said, the thought shooting spears of dread through her exhausted body. “Even though he destroyed their Sphere, the regime could steal the work and use it on ours. They most likely wouldn’t understand it, but anything’s possible.”
“We can’t live in hypotheticals, Lainey,” she said. “One day, this will all be a bad memory. In the meantime, you need to eat.”
“My stomach feels like it’s digesting gravel,” she muttered, running her fingers through her hair, which had been released from its practical
bun hours ago. “You go on and grab something. I’ll see you in the morning. I want to study my father’s letters and rewatch Nelson’s transmission. The more information I have, the better.”
Claire’s light green eyes darted back and forth.
“What is it?”
“I just…” She seemed to be searching for words—something that was rare for Lainey’s talkative friend. “It’s just that sometimes, I feel Lewis was unfair to you.”
“How so?” Lainey asked, feeling her forehead furrow.
“He instilled so much in you, but he never taught you how to live.” She shrugged, the shoulders of her sweatshirt moving under her the ends of her purple hair. “I mean, don’t you ever want to dance? To kiss a sexy man? To feel someone’s hands run over your skin until you’re sure your body might explode?”
Lainey observed the woman’s wistful expression. “I can see you’ve been reading my mother’s old romance novels again,” she said sardonically.
“Oh, posh,” Claire said, shooing her with her hand. “You’re such a stick in the mud, Lainey. And those novels are hella awesome, by the way. Oh, my god, there’s this one series where they’re all vampires in this black dagger brotherhood and they do all sorts of sexy things to human women. I swear, I’m hot just thinking about it.” She fanned herself with her notebook.
“Yeah, I’m all set. I tried my hand at that once, and it was a disaster, in case you’ve forgotten. As a scientist, it’s important I remember love and emotion are just a manifestation of chemicals being released in the brain. Sexual pleasure is merely a stimulation of nerve endings until they release serotonin and dopamine. It’s all rather boring and functional if you assess it rationally.”
Claire faked a yawn, opening her mouth to show slightly crooked teeth. “I’m sorry, what? I almost fell asleep from boredom. You need to get laid, boss. I bet you could get into Captain McDreamy’s pants. He looks ready for a tussle.”
“Yeah,” Lainey mumbled, still stunned from Hunter’s earlier admission. “He told me today that he aligned with Dad because he wants to go back in time and save his wife from dying.”
A Paradox of Fates Page 5
