by Ann Williams
Stepping into the Recep, she lay down and turned her face to the wall without waiting for him to move away. She’d been playing with fire and she’d gotten burned. She was falling in love with a man who wouldn’t be born until centuries after her own death. And she could not exist in his world, because the things she wanted most in life—a husband, a home and a family—were denied to him and his people.
Sammell left her silently, feeling very confused. There was something very different in the kiss she had given him by the stream and the one they had shared just now. Alone in his room, all he could think about was Marina. With his body crying out for a release from the sweet torture her kiss had aroused in him, Sammell threw himself on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
To hold her in his arms again, to feel her lips pressed against his, he would give anything…almost anything….
Chapter 9
As he rode to work the next morning, again Sammell’s thoughts were filled with Marina. Before leaving, he’d given her a stack of books from his library. The books were all scientific manuals, but without Monday to keep her company, the twelve hours he’d be gone would drag by, and he hoped the books would at least help pass the time.
As he strode down the corridor to the lab, he noted a heavy concentration of armed guards near the transvator leading to the government offices on the next level.
What was Bartell up to now? Since they had started project Deliverance security measures had been stepped up twice already.
Had the missing files from the archives been discovered? His feet moved a little faster and his eyes remained straight ahead as he passed the heavily armed men. Time was growing short. He had to make his move and soon. No matter how much he wanted to prolong his time with Marina and learn from her, he had to send her back very soon.
The realization filled him with more than disappointment—it wrenched him apart inside. He’d shared more with her than he’d ever thought to share with another human being. She more than anything had made him realize the importance of his mission.
Stopping in the doorway to the lab, Sammell let his eyes rove the room. Gissel and Darryn were at their desks, heads bowed over their work. Lab technicians were scattered about the room, conducting experiments on altered formulas. Everything looked as usual—no, something was different! With a bump of alarm, Sammell saw that a new face had been added to the team. An armed guard stood at the entrance to the time chamber housing MDAT’s twin.
As he moved toward his own desk, Sammell noted that one chair was empty. Where was Larkin? Had his unauthorized trip to Sammell’s cell been discovered? Was he even now under arrest? If he talked, Marina’s life would be in danger and so would Sammell’s mission.
Sammell knew that whoever had broken into his cell last night had used an antiteleblock to override the security system he had installed to warn against such an intrusion. Only the police had access to such devices. He had a feeling that if he found the intruder, he’d probably have found the thief who had stolen MDAT’s mother board from his desk drawer.
His eyes clung to Gissel’s straight back. She’d been acting strange the past few days—and so had Darryn.
Taking his seat, he caught Gissel’s eye and motioned her over to him. “Where is Larkin?” he asked, disregarding the standard formal greeting.
“No one knows. Lord Bartell has already been here looking for him. He said—”
“Sammell! In my office immediately!”
Sammell pushed away from his desk and stood, Bartell’s guttural voice ringing in his ears. “Do you know what this is all about?” he asked Gissel.
Her eyes widened at his tone. “I know there was trouble in one of the city sectors last night. After curfew, a storage unit on the east side containing nutrient was vaporized.”
For a split second, a dark premonition held him still. Larkin had been out last night after curfew. Could he have had something to do with it?
What if Bartell knew about Larkin’s visit to his cell? He might think Sammell was involved in the affair. Moving stiffly around Gissel, he headed for the door. The thought of making a run for it entered his head, but he knew he wouldn’t get far before one of the guard’s Maser-weapons took him down. He decided he’d have a better chance using his wits to escape.
“Good day, Lord Bartell,” he said after knocking and entering at the other man’s command.
“I want a test run in four days,” Bartell said without preamble.
“Four days? But—”
“Four days! Have Gissel enter the binary code today.”
“The plasma jet—”
“I believe Larkin was working on the formula for that. Turn the work over to Darryn.”
“But Darryn isn’t qualified—”
“Then do it yourself!” the other man growled. “I want a test in four days. Do I make myself clear?”
“Very clear, sir.”
“Where is Larkin?”
Sammell stiffened. “I do not know. I was surprised to arrive and not see him at his desk.”
“When did you last speak with him?”
“Yesterday—I have not seen him since yesterday.”
Bartell examined Sammell’s face thoroughly before granting him a nod of dismissal.
“I expect results,” was his final comment. “Do not disappoint me.”
Back in the lab, Sammell delegated the work as Bartell had demanded. Before Gissel entered the binary codes in MDAT’S computer, Sammell opened the back to make certain everything inside was in working order. As he looked closer, something about the mother board looked wrong. Removing it, he studied each circuit carefully. And then he realized what was bothering him. The board had an extra chip.
On closer examination, Sammell realized it was his chip, the one he’d developed and added for the matter-time-sequence program. This was his missing mother board! Whoever had stolen it must have placed it in the computer.
“Is something wrong?” Gissel stood at his side, looking over his shoulder curiously.
“No. I was just checking the circuits.”
“Is there a problem? Larkin went over them carefully yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” Sammell shot her a look of surprise.
“Yes. You were helping one of the techs next door. He said you had told him there was a problem with one of the circuits.”
“Did he say which one?”
“No. I could tell he did not want me bothering him, so I left. But a few minutes later Lord Bartell sent for him.” She moved a step closer and lowered her voice. “Do you know what has happened to Larkin? Has he been arrested?”
“No. Why would you ask that?”
“The two guards I heard talking about the vaporization said someone from Government House had been breaking curfew. Larkin has been acting strange lately. I thought maybe…”
“The guards could have been discussing someone in another lab—they probably were. Larkin has not been arrested or we would know about it. Bartell would have replaced him by now. And as for his loyalty, you should not question it. Now, please, let me get on with my work.”
“Yes. I am sorry.”
When she was gone, Sammell studied the mother board in indecision. If he removed the chip, when Larkin returned he’d have proof that Sammell had tampered with the computer, because yesterday the man could not have failed to notice the added chip.
That, no doubt, was why he’d made the visit to Sammell’s cell so late. And if the chip was removed, and Larkin returned to work, all he would have to do was speak to Gissel and he’d know Sammell had been inspecting the computer’s insides.
Then again, Larkin might never return. It seemed no one knew where he’d gone. Maybe he had joined the freedom fighters he’d mentioned last night. Maybe he was responsible for the vaporization.
In any case, Sammell couldn’t take the chance on running a test in four days and its being successful. He’d have to damage the chip in some way and hope no one realized it before he’d had the oppo
rtunity to use his MDAT to send Marina home. He couldn’t do it now because there were too many people around, but before he left work that day, he would find an opportunity to get at it again.
This was not how he had planned things. He’d hoped to avoid exposing himself to Bartell before he had the opportunity to fulfill his own mission, in case there were things he would still need from the lab or the archives, but now it looked as though he might have to disappear once Marina was safely out of danger. And there would be no doubt in Bartell’s mind why he’d gone.
Everyone was required to shower before leaving work because of the possibility of contamination. Sammell was invariably the last one to do so.
He was just finishing up when he heard someone enter the room. The lights suddenly went out and someone whispered, “Do not trust Larkin. He is not a friend.”
Before Sammell could get his bearings, the lights came on and he was alone. What was that supposed to mean? Friendship was not allowed in their society. Who would suggest such a thing to him and why? The voice had been unrecognizable.
Was Bartell behind the message? Or had it been Gissel or Darryn? What did they hope to accomplish by such a warning?
Sammell let himself back in to the lab, nodded at the guard as though he had every right to be there and moved past him into the chamber housing MDAT. It took only a moment to remove the cover on the computer, but when he looked at the mother board, he realized this was not his board. While he’d been in the showers, someone had replaced his board with another.
Gissel had been standing behind him when he’d discovered his mother board in the computer. Had he given himself away to her? Had she entered the lab while he was gone and switched boards? Why? Was it possible that she was working for Bartell and wanted to add to Sammell’s confusion?
Whoever was responsible for the switch had succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. Sammell didn’t know what to do.
An hour later, he let himself into his cell with a feeling of relief. Once he had looked on this place as a prison. But since Marina’s arrival it had become a haven. And each evening he looked forward to his time alone with her. For a little while he could even pretend nothing was wrong in his world and Marina belonged in it with him.
It was a dangerous fantasy and he knew it.
He found her sleeping. For a long moment he simply stood and gazed at her. Then, unable to help himself, he moved closer and dropped down beside her. Brushing her cheek with unsteady fingers, he fingered the bright auburn curls lying soft about her forehead and temples, noting how they gleamed with shadows of deep red.
He studied the thick curling eyelashes and dark winged eyebrows several shades darker than her hair. There was both strength and delicacy in her face.
Suddenly he frowned. What had happened to the pink bloom in her cheeks when he’d first seen her? The small spots of brown had begun to fade from her skin, too. Was she sick?
Illness still existed in her world. Could she have been infected with some disease when he’d unwittingly transported her into the future? Or worse still, was there something in his world that was making her ill?
Marina’s eyelids fluttered open, and in the instant before recognition lit her eyes, he saw the fear she hid from him with her smiles.
“You’re home.” She smiled. “I’m glad.”
“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
“Yes.” She rose to a sitting position. “But it was a long day—I miss Monday.”
“You need fresh air and sunshine. Sunday we will go out.”
Marina frowned. “At night, you mean?”
“No.”
“But we can’t go out in the daytime, you said—”
“I know what I said. I will take care of it.”
Putting a hand on his arm, she said, “I don’t want you to get into trouble. I’ll be all right without sunshine for a while longer.”
“I want you to see my world in the daylight. I want you to see its beauty without having to run from the police.”
Covering her hand with one of his, he added, “I want you to love my world as much as I do. It could be a wonderful place to live—the true paradise the government would have us believe it is now—without King Wyndom and all his lies.”
Marina was very much aware of the warmth of his fingers squeezing hers and surprised by the gesture. Touching was taboo. Or had he forgotten?
Now that she had realized the extent of her growing attraction to him, being alone with him was going to be difficult. It would be best if they could stay away from the personal and keep the touching to a minimum.
“Tell me about your government and how it works,” she said, removing her hand from beneath his and getting to her feet. “In my time we had elected officials.”
“I have already told you about King Wyndom,” Sammell replied, watching her with a puzzled expression on his face. Was she still angry with him about last night? “King Wyndom has absolute power.”
“I suppose he has a crest and coat of arms and all that. Do you have to bow and call him Your Majesty?” she asked with a slight grin.
“Yes,” he answered solemnly. “And the sector heads are called Lord. Lord Bartell heads this sector.”
“He’s your boss, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
Marina tilted her head and screwed up her eyes. “You don’t like him.”
“No. He is a pompous fool. He would like to be king.”
“In this new world you hope to create, would you have kings and queens?”
“No,” he thundered, getting to his feet. “All the people would have a say in what happens in their lives.”
“Perhaps you will be the first president of your new world.”
Sammell studied her pursed lips and innocent eyes. “You are…kidding with me?” It was a new concept for him, but he was learning many things from his association with Marina.
Marina’s eyes crinkled and her lips turned up at the corners. “Yes, in a way, but I was serious, too. You would make a wonderful president.”
“How do you know this?”
She shrugged. “I just do.”
“We will see. Now, I want to hear more about your life and the people who are close to you.”
That night passed without incident. He and Marina talked into the early morning hours. And when she went to sleep, he worked on MDAT. The machine was ready for Marina’s trip home—Sammell was not.
It wasn’t until he was lying in his sleep chamber, thinking back on their conversation, that he realized they had talked mostly of his world, very little about hers and not at all about Marina. She had steered the conversation in a new direction each time he asked something personal.
Sammell sadly faced the fact that though she had said they would be friends, they were not. They were in truth little more than strangers.
The next day at work Larkin was still missing. And as the day came to a close without his being summoned to Bartell’s chambers, Sammell heaved a sigh of relief.
He took his time getting to the showers so that everyone else would be gone and when he left the building he was carrying several clean jumpsuits in his satchel instead of one.
The next morning Sammell helped Marina bunch her long hair up beneath a turban—an item occasionally worn by the women in his world—and left the room while she slipped into the jumpsuit everyone in his world wore.
A few minutes later, he rejoined her, stopping in his tracks to stare at her in speechless amazement. The turban and jumpsuit, both a buttercup yellow, had never looked on one of his people as they looked on Marina.
“What is it?” she asked quickly. “Do I look awful?”
“No—you look…you look…” His glance moved up her figure from trim ankles to well-rounded hips to her bosom and stopped.
“What?” she asked self-consciously, hardly able to restrain herself from wrapping her arms around her chest to hide it from view.
“You—here.” He motioned toward his own upper t
orso.
“Up here?” she asked, fluttering her hands before her chest.
“And here.” He motioned toward her hips.
Marina put a hand on either hip and frowned. “Are you telling me again that I’m too fat?”
“Not fat—rounded. But we can take care of that,” he assured her quickly. “I have a larger jumpsuit.” He eyed her chest doubtfully. “But I do not know about up there.”
“I have an idea,” Marina said suddenly. “Do you have a large towel?”
Sammell brought her a towel. And though he’d never seen a safety pin, when she explained what she needed, he managed to fashion something similar from wire.
“I’ll need your help,” she said with a flush on her cheeks.
“My help?” he asked doubtfully.
“Yes. Can you turn your back for a moment?”
Sammell turned around, wondering what she needed him to do. He was at a loss about how to hide her femininity. He’d thought the jumpsuit able to hide anything, but…
Marina slipped the jumpsuit down to her waist, folded the towel and slipped it beneath her arms, wrapping it tightly around her breasts. “Okay, you can turn around.”
Sammell did so reluctantly, his heart pumping irregularly. He remembered the night he’d seen her breasts without a covering. Those achingly familiar sensations he’d felt for the first time that night were beginning to stir, making him ill at ease.
“What I want you to do is pull the towel tight.”
He had to stand close to do as she asked, and he could feel the heat from her body all along his front. He ached and could hardly stand still. Her scent was making his head spin and his knees were once again acting strange, making it hard for him to stay upright.
“What do I do now?” he asked unsteadily.
His fingers against the skin of her back and shoulders sent a shiver racing down her spine. “Just hold it tight,” she answered, twisting to face him.
Their glances caught. Marina swallowed tightly and turned away. She handed him the pins he’d fashioned to her specifications. “Pin it in place at the back.”
