The pharmacist looked up from dispensing pills. “Everything all right, Ms. White?”
She smiled. “Oh, yes. Perhaps I’ve caught a touch of the flu.”
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on suppressing Ms. White. Stay quiet for a couple of days, and then you can have your life back.
Ms. White’s voice screamed back at her like a person yelling from the bottom of a well. Walker gritted her teeth, trying to drive the shrieking woman’s words from her mind. She bent forward, drawing in deep breaths, and wiping a shaking hand over her forehead, slicked back the long strands of hair against her scalp. When the pharmacist motioned for her to pick up her prescription, she also purchased half a dozen syringes.
Outside, she managed to wave down a passing yellow cab. She clambered into the back seat as her stomach churned and gurgled.
The driver turned to her. “You look kind of pale. Do you want me to take you to the clinic?”
She waved off the suggestion. “Just take me to Greenhaven Estate.”
Her phone chirped with a ringtone from the old television show, The Odd Couple. She frowned at the peculiar choice of music and checked the caller ID—Linda.
“Hello?”
A younger woman’s words poured out into an indistinguishable mass.
Walker held a hand to her forehead. “Slow down! I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
“Where have you been? You know how much I worry about you. If Dad were still alive, he’d be furious.”
“Who is this?”
“God, you’re getting worse. This is Linda, your sister. Have you taken your pills?”
“Oh, Linda. Sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice for a second. I’m not feeling too good. I’m on my way home from the pharmacy.” Walker rolled her eyes. God, I forgot the briefing failed to mention any siblings, or friends, for that matter. I wonder what else the historians didn’t discover about Ms. White?
“I’m going to come over at four. Stay home and take your medication. I know you hate taking all those drugs and that they make you feel terrible, but you don’t have a choice.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll take my meds. Look, I need to hang up now. I’m almost home.”
As she reached the front door, her vision blurred, and she fumbled to get her keys into the lock. Moments later, she almost shattered a glass cup as she pressed it against the refrigerator water-dispensing lever. Swearing, she fumbled with her medicine’s child-safety caps, and then stomped on one in frustration, sending the little white pills scattering across the floor.
Ms. White’s consciousness returned. Her voice was rising with each word. You! What are you doing? No, you can’t be in here with me. This is my space. Get out, get out! I want you out now.
Walker downed a trio of pills, chasing them down with water. I don’t have time to explain it to you. I’ve got a job to do. Stay out of my way, and I’ll be out of here before you even know what happened.
The voice persisted. Don’t give me that line. I’m in control and not you. What the hell are you doing in my mind?
Shut up and let me work. There’s too much at stake to spend all day arguing with you.
What gives you the right? I’ve been fighting voices in my head since I was a teenager. I won’t let the likes of you ... Ms. White’s voice faded into an inaudible garble.
Walker slumped into a chair and pressed the tip of a finger against her neck; her pulse ran quick. She tried to control her breathing with the techniques taught in basic training. Minutes passed, her heart slowed, and her breathing quieted. Stripping away her clothes, she squatted in the shower and allowed the warm water to play on her back and head.
The doorbell chimed. She grabbed a bathrobe and padded down the hall to the front door. Linda’s distorted image looked back at her through the spyhole. Walker opened the door, and Linda stepped inside and hugged her.
“I rang three times! You’ve got to stop scaring me like that.”
“Sorry. I’ve taken my pills, no need to worry,” Walker replied, her voice strained from the fatigue of fighting against Ms. White.
Linda released her and strode into the kitchen, where she spied the pill bottles and picked up the damaged one. “What happened? Did the pharmacist give you a broken one? Did you break it?”
“I was frustrated and needed my meds. “Not that I mind seeing my sister, but what are you doing here?”
Linda frowned. “I hope your meds don’t interfere with your memory. You’re going downtown tonight. Remember the big reception for you in two days? We both decided it would be best for you to become familiar with the hotel before having to face your colleagues and the media.”
“Oh, right,” she said, forcing a smile. “Maybe the little red pills or the little blue ones are playing tricks with my memory.”
Linda gripped her shoulder. “Don’t say things like that with all the problems you have. It’s a wonder why Mom let you move in here alone.”
Walker didn’t respond.
“Okay, that was in poor taste.” Linda filled the kettle and stood beside it, waiting for the water to boil. “What are you going to wear for the reception?”
“I ... oh, I was thinking about ... err, um.”
“God, you haven’t put any thought into this, have you? Fortunately, I bought a dress for you. It’s in the car. I’ll go and get it.”
A dull ache stung at the base of Walker’s neck, and she reached back to massage the spot. Ms. White is a tough lady. She’s fighting against the medication. “Yes, that’s a wonderful thought. Go and get the dress.”
When Linda left the kitchen, Walker clutched the countertop and held her head over the sink in case she vomited.
Ms. White’s voice found an opening. This is my body, my life, and my mind.
Shut up. I’m working.
Who in the hell cares what you are working on? I have a Ph.D. in—
I’m well aware of your useless credentials and your personality disorders, Ms. White ... oh, how rude of me ... Doctor White.
A wave of obscenities flooded her mind as the woman shrieked. A knifing pain smashed into Walker’s temple, her knees buckled, and she struck something hard and angular. She crumpled to the floor, holding her head and writhing on the cool, brown mica floor. The world drew closed to a fine point of white light as darkness engulfed her.
Walker tried to open her eyes, but the sleep glued her eyelashes together, forcing her to rub away the crusty and gritty material. She sat up in a hospital bed with a heart rate monitor clipped to her index finger. To her left, a machine kept track of her vitals. She spotted a young nurse with long, black hair tied back with a scrunchy. Dressed in violet scrubs, the nurse whisked between beds, chatting for a short time with each patient.
She walked to Walker’s bedside and smiled. “Good afternoon, Ms. White. I hope you’re feeling better?”
Walker forced out her words from a parched throat. “Yes, thank you. How long have I been here?”
“One day—”
“One day!” she interrupted. God, I’ve lost a whole day. Great, now I only have two days to complete my mission. I need to get to the hotel. “I need to get home. I’ve got so many things to do.”
The nurse frowned. “You’re not going anywhere for at least another twenty-four hours. Your sister found you convulsing on the kitchen floor, and you hit your head on the counter edge. Fortunately, when she called 911, there was an ambulance in your neighborhood. Don’t worry; we have a complete list of your medications. We’re a little concerned about one of the drugs; it doesn’t react well with one of the off-the-shelf medications you took from the pharmacy.”
“You don’t understand. I am needed at an awards ceremony.”
“Awards ceremony?” She took a step closer, examining her. “Wait a minute. I thought I recognized you when the medics brought you in, but your face was discolored, and your hair was soaked with blood. You’re the doctor who discovered a cure for cancer.”
“Yup, that’s me.
” Walker feigned a smile.
“Sorry, but the hospital won’t discharge you for another day.”
“Come on, we both know this is all about insurance, not about health. What if my sister took responsibility?”
“All right. I’ll speak with Doctor Martinez, and if he agrees and your sister is willing to take custody, then you can go home today.”
BY NOON, WALKER HAD scratched her name on a hospital release form and initialed six times while a nurse frowned at her from behind her station.
Linda held Walker’s clothes in a sports bag and shook her head. “Are you sure you feel okay?”
“Stop doing that, Linda. If everyone who experienced a moment of vertigo reacted in the same way, the entire country would have to stop because everyone would be in a hospital.”
Walker sat in a wheelchair, as per hospital policy, and her sister pushed her down the brightly-lit hallway, which resembled the temporal complex in the far future.
“Sorry about snapping at you back there.” Walker rummaged through the sports bag, checking the condition of her clothing. “The medications can screw with your temper. You’re a good sister, and when the awards ceremony is over, I’m taking you out for dinner at the finest restaurant in Seattle.”
Linda patted her shoulder and stopped the wheelchair before the automatic doors. “Don’t worry about that, and besides, most of the downtown restaurants are very expensive. Mom and I are so proud of what you’ve done for people all over the world.”
Walker gave a sour smile. Yes, everything I’ve done. She shook her head, dismissing the unpleasant thought, and started pulling clothing out of the sports bag. Her searching became frantic until she pulled out her harness, which had been cut in half. She slumped back into the hard-plastic folds of the chair as the doors slid open. My harness. Those idiots! What am I going to do now?
Linda looked down at the destroyed garment. “Don’t worry; we can buy another one. It’s only a sports bra.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. We need to stop at home. There are some items I need to pick up before we go to the hotel.”
WALKER STUFFED HER sister into a taxi with a wad of bills and told her to see the latest blockbuster movie. The last thing a temporal agent needed was a person from another time watching her repair her harness. Alone, she sat in the hotel room with a set of fine tools she found in Ms. White’s basement, hoping she could repair the garment cut in half by the well-meaning paramedics. She needed to keep in mind that, when compared to her time, medical procedures were as primitive as medieval surgery was to their time.
Clearing all the assorted hotel advertisements from the desk, she placed the harness in the middle and unpacked the tools. Walker took a spool of black thread and stitched the garment together, looping a needle through and through and drawing the torn material together. Despite her efforts, there was no way to tell if the scissors had damaged the microscopic temporal sensors. For that, she required the technology of her era and trained technicians.
Slipping the harness on, she decided to take a shower. The steam rose in the shower cubicle and misted the mirror above the sink. She massaged the shampoo into her scalp and hair while trying to avoid the gash near her temple.
Ms. White erupted from the depths of her mind, her voice growing like an approaching storm. Get the hell out of my mind! What gives you the right—
Walker screwed her eyes shut and shouted back in her head. Look, you self-centered little child, there are more pressing issues than you can understand. Stay quiet for another twenty-four hours, maybe thirty, and I will be gone.
Don’t call me a child, you invader. I have enough problems with the other voices in my head. You know what Euripides said, “Whom the gods would destroy they first make mad.”
I can’t tell you. Don’t worry; I’ll leave you to your other voices soon.
I’m getting stronger each time. I’ll bet you’re using meds to try and suppress me. We’re both going to be in trouble unless you give me a good reason to stay quiet.
Walker stepped out of the shower, leaving a trail of wet footprints in her wake. She snagged her pills from the table and forced four different pills down her throat without the aid of water. Ms. White’s voice receded like a person drowning, her words garbled and disjointed. Walker sat in the chair and faced the window. Rain streaked the glass, distorting the building across the road. Her eyelids fluttered, and she drifted away.
Walker awoke with a start, her cell phone both ringing and jittering across the desk. She picked up the phone and listened while the cobwebs cleared from her mind.
“Are you all right?” Linda said.
“Oh, yes. You woke me up. I just took a nap. I’ll need to change my medication. I fell asleep naked in the chair. Good thing no one can see me.” She forced a laugh.
“God, can’t these stupid pharmacists get anything right? I told you all about big pharma. They’re just in it for—”
“Linda, not now.”
“Sorry, you know how I am when I get on a roll. Is there anything I can do?”
Walker pressed her palm against her forehead, trying to ward off a faint headache. “Nothing special. What time are you coming here?”
“I’ll be there by five. How long is your speech?”
“It shouldn’t take long. You know how speeches make me feel. I should finish getting ready. I will meet you in the lobby.”
She opened her bag and pulled out a black box. Inside, nestled into a line of leather straps were six needles. She pulled one out, rolled up her sleeve, punctured the cephalic vein just below her left shoulder, and drew back the plunger until the blood reached the halfway point inside the barrel. After removing the needle, she slapped a band aid against her shoulder and ignored the dull throb. Grabbing a cup from atop the minibar, she decanted the blood and held the glass up to the light. Within half a minute, a conical bullet coalesced inside the dark liquid. Holding her hand against the lip, she poured her blood into the sink, then picked out the bullet and washed away any residue.
The temporal bullet appeared no different from the ammunition of this century and would work with contemporary firearms. She sat on the bed and reached inside her jacket. She produced the nine-millimeter Barreta pistol, ejected the clip and removed a conventional round, and replaced it with the temporal one. I still can’t believe this woman owns a gun.
A knocking at the door drew her away from her musings. She stuffed the weapon into her bag and called out, “Come in.”
Linda opened the door and removed her rain-pitted hat, a dress sleeved in a plastic covering slung over her shoulder. “All ready for your big moment?”
“Oh, yes. I can’t wait.” Walker stiffened. “Where will you be sitting for my speech?”
She shook her head. “I will be sitting to your right on the stage. You remember, in place of Mom. She’s so proud of you, and especially since—”
“Come on.” A wave of heat flared at the base of her spine. What the hell happened to Ms. White’s mother? “Don’t talk about such things. This is supposed to be a good night.”
“Oh, you’re right. I’m sorry. I never quite got over Dad passing. Here. You never got the chance to try on the dress.”
Walker removed her black sports jacket, and the dull ache pulsed as she slid her arm out of the sleeve.
Linda took a step forward. “What’s that?”
“I ... um, oh, that’s right. I took some blood. I bought some needles for testing.”
Linda pointed at the butt of the pistol sticking out of the inside pocket. “No, not the bandage. I mean that.”
“Well, I feel I need protection. You know the old saying, ‘When seconds count, the police are minutes away.’”
Linda fell silent, casting her eyes to the floor. “I’m ... I’m sorry, Sis. You have the right to defend yourself after what happened in the park.”
Walker hugged her. “It’s okay. After all, I’m not planning on using it.”
Linda smudged a tear tr
acing down her cheek. “Do you want the dress?”
“Thanks so much for thinking of me, but with this bandage and the gun, I was thinking of wearing a blazer and slacks. Now, I need to go over my speech one more time.”
Linda hugged her and smiled. “I’m so proud of you. I’ll go downstairs, maybe grab a drink at the restaurant, and then wait for your speech.”
Walker waited for her sister to leave the room, then reached for the blazer. A tingle raced down her right arm, and her hand spasmed. She grabbed for the butt of the pistol and drew it from the shoulder holster, her actions not her own.
Ms. White’s voice slammed into her mind. I’ve been waiting for my pathetic sister to leave the room. I didn’t want to blow your brains out with her standing there. All that blood and gray matter would be hard to get out of a dress, you know.
Walker gripped her gun hand at the wrist and struggled to prevent the muzzle from pointing at her head. God, you psycho. Let me do my work. Killing me will kill you too.
I don’t care. I discovered the cure for cancer, and that won’t change whether I’m dead or not. You’re just another damned voice in my head.
Walker moved her hand up to the butt of the weapon and pressed on a small black button, releasing the clip, which bounced on the beige carpet. She moved to the table and bashed her hand against the edge until she dropped the Barreta. Ms. White strove to gain greater control of her body, but Walker smiled and wobbled over to the honor bar, reached for a small bottle of rum, twisted off the top, and downed the sweet brown liquid. The rum burned with a delightful tingle down her throat as she savored the sweetness.
What the hell are you doing?
Oh, I don’t know ... taking the edge off before my big speech. She pressed the bottle to her lips and drank deeply. I’ve always been nervous before large crowds.
Within an hour, four empty bottles adorned the top of the minibar. Walker smiled as she pulled on a pair of black knee-high boots. Ms. White no longer raged, threatening from the nether regions of her mind. Walker teetered on her heels and reached for the clip, slapping it into the butt of the pistol. Replacing the weapon inside her jacket, she made for the elevators. She rolled her shoulders back, trying to fight the alcohol, which washed over her brain. God, I hope I didn’t drink too much. It’s bad enough to slur one’s speech, let alone the effect it might have on one’s aim.
Guardians of Time Page 14
