by Koch, Gini
“They’ll be fine. I promise.” He rocked me for a bit, and I tried to relax. “I could get used to this,” he said quietly. “But I think we need to get moving.”
He let me go but still held my hand. “I think I like you better like this,” I said as we moved back into the main part of what I was coming to think of as a terminal.
He grinned. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“So, where can we go from here?”
“Anywhere we need to.” Martini pointed to the big doorways. “We take the vehicles through them.”
“How? Aren’t we in a dome or something that’s like a building?”
“Yes. There are entry points all over the dome, though. We just open the big doors for the cars.”
“Does each doorway thing correspond to an airport?”
“We call them gates, and no. We have gates programmed to go straight to Home Base and our Science Center, but otherwise, we calibrate for each trip. A superbeing can show up anywhere in the world, at any time, so we need the flexibility.”
“Makes sense.” I looked around. “This place seems pretty quiet.”
“That’s because the grid’s quiet,” Gower’s voice came from behind us. I jumped and probably would have fallen if Martini weren’t still holding my hand. “Nice to see you two getting cozy,” Gower added with a grin.
“Just keeping her from leaping through a gate to who knows where,” Martini laughed.
“Ready to go to the next stop?” Gower asked Martini.
“I think so. She’s seen everything here.”
“I don’t understand it all,” I interjected. “Like how this can all be hidden not only from the American government but from all the other countries who monitor what we do?”
Gower shrugged. “Our technology’s more advanced, and some of this is the Ancients’ technology, too. And the cloaking technology hides more than just the physical presence. I could spend a couple of hours and give you a lecture in advanced alien science, but time’s wasting. We need to get to Home Base.”
CHAPTER 8
TURNED OUT THE TWO BIG GATES were the ones calibrated for the Science Center and Home Base at all times. Gower went to have the dome opened for the vehicles with us to go through, while Martini and I waited.
“If we weren’t detouring to, hopefully, meet up with my mother, where would the next stop have been?”
“Science Center. It’s okay, we have gates at Home Base to Dulce. You’ll still get to see it.” He sighed. “This always takes forever.”
“What?” Everything seemed to be moving fast to me.
“Loading the cars through. They’re harder to send, especially with someone in them. Calibrations take longer, everyone goes slowly, just in case, that sort of thing.”
“Do we have to go in them?” I didn’t like going through a drive-thru carwash. I had no desire to be in a drive-thru transporter.
“Nah, I’ll take you through a regular one.” Martini looked down at me and cocked his head. “You need anything before we see your mother?”
I thought about it. I knew I looked awful, and it didn’t take much imagination to come up with how my mother would react. “Yeah. A change of clothes would be great.”
He nodded. “Stay right here.” Letting go of my hand, he walked over to where Gower was. I couldn’t hear them, but it was pretty clear they were arguing. Martini seemed to win, because he came back grinning as usual. “We’re all set. You and I are making a quick stop at your apartment before we meet the others back at Home Base.”
This seemed awfully easy, considering the load of men who’d been with us so far. “What does Paul over there think we’re doing?”
Martini shrugged. “Going to Home Base first. We’ll still probably beat the limo, let alone the rest of the cars.”
He had a point. The gates were still being calibrated, and while I could see the cars, they weren’t moving. Reader wasn’t even in the limo; he was leaning against the door, still reading the file on my mother he’d somehow acquired.
“Will we be safe?”
“Sure. I’ll be with you.” He flashed me his largest grin. “You worried about not being able to control yourself once we’re alone?”
“Hardly. I want to be sure all those superbeings you’ve been warning me about aren’t going to get me while we take an unauthorized side trip. Besides, I know who’ll get the brunt of the complaints if we do.”
“Me, so what are you worried about?” He sighed. “Look, we can go ahead to Home Base and you can see your mother looking like we’ve spent the last hour or so having a wild time in the dirt, or we can get you changed. Your choice.”
I was somewhat suspicious of his motives and what I was getting into, but in addition to changing clothes, I really wanted to know what Christopher had done during his time in my apartment. “Okay, let’s go.”
“That’s my girl!” Martini grabbed my hand again and trotted us off to a gate at the opposite end of the dome from where the cars were. He shooed the security guard away, and I was interested to note there was no protest given.
“Your security details always this lax?”
“Nope. I’m just a popular guy. Now, hush, I need to pay attention while I do the calibrations.” He fiddled around with some knobs and buttons on the sides of the gate. His hands were a blur, and I had to stop watching. “Okay, all set,” he said less than a minute later.
“I thought you said your reflexes were too fast for driving.”
“These aren’t human-created.” He cocked his head. “You okay? That was a dumb question, for you.”
“I think it’s all starting to blur into total insanity,” I admitted. “I feel like Alice, but you’re one weird white rabbit.”
“I’m more like the Cheshire cat.” Martini laughed. “It’s natural. Let’s get you home and changed. You’ll feel better.” With that he moved us right in front of the opening. “It’s going to be tight, but I want us going through together. So, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to have to hold you as we go through.”
“I suddenly see why you suggested this.” I was going to protest but he picked me up before I had the chance.
“Arms around my neck, just because I like it.” I did as he asked because it was more comfortable and, truth be told, I was scared about going through the gate. He shifted me a bit, then walked through.
I was instantly glad he was holding me, because the transference wasn’t like walking through the invisibility shield around the dome. We seemed to be standing still while the world rushed by us, just like in the movies when they speed up the film to show how fast time’s passing. Only it was ten times faster and totally nauseating.
I buried my face in Martini’s neck. He held me a little tighter, and the nausea subsided. “Almost there,” he said softly. I felt a slight jolt. “It’s okay,” he said in a very low voice. “We’re here. Don’t talk.”
As I drew my head up, I remembered where he’d said the transference devices were stationed. “I’m in the men’s restroom?” I hissed in his ear.
“Yes,” he said, still quietly. “Now, hush.”
He kept me in his arms, and neither one of us spoke. I heard the unmistakable sounds of liquid hitting porcelain, which was both gross and proof we weren’t alone.
Saguaro International is a busy airport, and it occurred to me that Martini and I could be stuck in this stall for long enough that we’d be late getting to Home Base. He must have thought the same, because he opened the stall door, just a crack. I was impressed that he could hold me with just one arm, but I decided now wasn’t the time to mention it.
He watched while I listened. The splattering sound stopped, I heard a zipper, then fading footsteps. Martini put me down and opened the stall door more. This wasn’t the most spacious stall in the world, and I was squished. He walked out and I could breathe again, not that I wanted to.
I heard him walking quickly; then he came back, grabbed me, and we headed toward the exit. As we did so, severa
l men came in, all with rolling suitcases or garment bags. They seemed to spot me at the same time, and all stopped dead in their tracks.
“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!” I said to Martini. “My contacts both slipped out during the flight, thank goodness you stopped me before I got all the way in here! Excuse me, sorry, sorry, can’t see a thing anyway!” I said to the men who were gaping at me. I shoved through them and got out.
Martini came after me. I heard him saying something about ditzy women that was greeted with some chuckles. He shook his head when he was out of the bathroom. “You really can think on your feet.”
“You know that’s a crime I can be jailed for in this state? Being the wrong sex in the bathroom?”
“Humans have weird laws. Now, let’s get going.” He took my hand again. “This is probably going to be really unpleasant.”
Before I could ask him how unpleasant, he started moving and I was going right along with him. It was different from the transference, but not by too much. We moved around the people as if they were frozen. There were a couple of times I was sure we went through walls, but it was just that Martini moved us around obstacles more quickly than I could see them.
We were out of the airport, racing through the streets and on the freeway, flying past cars I knew were going at least sixty-five as if they, too, were standing still. Then, off at my exit, through the streets of my neighborhood, shortcut-ting through the park, going up the back way, and into my apartment.
We stopped inside. My stomach was roiling, but it had been more exhilarating than the transference process. “How’d we get inside?” I managed to ask.
Martini held my house keys in his hand. “I searched your purse. That thing is worse than I’d thought. Slowed us down a bit.”
“I’ll make a note to buy something with more compartments when I feel like making it easy for you. I’m glad I’m not passing out like Reader said I would.”
“I went slowly.” I got the impression he wasn’t lying.
“That was slowly?”
“Yes. Now, you going to change or what?”
“You’re not watching, that’s what.”
He grinned. “I know. I’m going to check out your fridge. Just to see if I like your frozen dinner selection.” He sauntered off like he owned the place.
I decided to do what we’d come for. As I walked through my living room to the bedroom, I noted that nothing seemed amiss.
My bedroom was the best part of the apartment—double doors leading to the living room, which were now closed to keep Martini out, huge window with a great view of the mountain preserve, a large walk-in closet, a vanity area with good lighting, and a full bathroom. The bedroom was why I’d taken this place—put together, the living room, dining room, kitchen and tiny utility area were about the same square footage as my bedroom.
My bed was still a mess—I didn’t live by the make your bed every day rule. I had stuff all over the place, but it was my stuff, and it was pretty much where I’d left it. I dumped my suit in the bag I used for dry cleaning, hope managing to spring eternal. I washed my face, gave it a couple moments of thought, then pulled on my most comfortable pair of jeans. They were sort of clean, too. I had a feeling we’d be spending a lot of time in the heat, so I figured I should wear a T-shirt. Which one was a difficult choice, though. I didn’t want to wear something I loved, because the chances of it ending up like my suit were high. But I also didn’t want to wear something I hated, or something that didn’t look good on me, for a variety of reasons, all of them related to vanity.
I finally settled on one of my Aerosmith T-shirts. I had several; this one was well-worn, and I’d feel better with Steven, Joe, and the rest of my boys backing me up, so to speak. I grabbed a hoodie, just in case, added socks and sneakers, and I was finally all set.
I looked around. If Christopher had searched for something, he sure hadn’t disturbed anything.
Except, I realized as I started to brush my hair, in one area. I didn’t use the vanity as intended, I’m not much for wearing makeup. I used it as a place to do my hair and display pictures. And they’d been moved.
I put my hair into a ponytail, tossed my brush, a headband, a couple of extra scrunchies, and my spare hairspray into my purse. Then I examined the pictures.
He’d moved them all, not much, but enough for me to notice, because I never dust. I could see fingerprints in the dust on the frames, as well as smudges in the dust on the counter, showing where a picture had been and now wasn’t quite on the spot any more.
The pictures here were the ones that mattered most to me—my parent’s wedding picture, my senior picture from high school, my sorority composite picture, me and my parents with my car when it was brand new, a multi-picture collection of my closest friends from school, college, and work, another multi-picture set of our relatives and pets through my lifetime.
But the ones that had the most dust removed from them were from my sixteenth birthday. Chuckie had been into photography at that point, and while he pretty much refused to have his picture taken, he’d gotten some awesome snaps of others. In one I was wearing a tiara and holding my cats, Oingo and Boingo, with my parents and Sheila and Amy around me, all of us grinning like idiots. In the other I was still in the tiara, but I was with my then-boyfriend, Brian. He and I were pretending to do the tango, we were both laughing, and he had me dipped, so that I was upside down in the shot with one leg up in the air.
So that explained the princess and tiara comments. Prick.
There was a knock on my bedroom doors. “Are you dressed yet or can I come in?”
“Oh, come in.” I’d deal with Christopher’s invasion of my privacy later.
Martini came in and gave me an appraising up and down. “You clean up nice. A little casual, but that’s okay. However, you should know I like the Stones better.”
“Proof you’re an idiot, just as I suspected.” I grabbed my purse. “Do I need anything else?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Just do me a favor and claim you were worried about twisting your ankle in your heels.”
“You don’t want to get bawled out by Uncle Mr. White in front of the whole Home Base crew? And I was all ready to be impressed.”
“If you admit that you wanted to come here so I could ravage you, I wouldn’t get in trouble.”
“Dream on.”
“Bed’s right there. Though, looking at it, maybe we’ll have our first romantic moment at my place. I actually understand the concept of cleaning and straightening.”
“I’m thrilled. If you can cook, too, we might begin to have an understanding.”
“I’m a great cook.” He took my hand again. “You tell me what you like, I’ll make it for you.”
“Your second strong argument. I’ll try to focus on your strengths while you race us back to the freaking men’s room at the airport.” I made sure everything was off and locked.
“We could go to the one in the ladies’. Saguaro International actually does have a ladies’ room gate, and I don’t mind at all,” he said with his widest grin yet.
“You really aren’t clear on the concept of quitting while you’re ahead, are you?” We left the apartment, and I locked the door. I wondered when I’d see it again.
“Hey, I fed your fish.”
“So, supposedly, did Christopher. They’ll probably die from overfeeding now.”
“I’ll help you through your bereavement.”
“You’re a prince.”
Martini opened his mouth, then slammed it shut. He seemed to be listening, but I couldn’t hear anything.
“What is it?”
“One of the people who checked on you earlier was your landlord?”
“Yes. Nice people. Paranoid, but nice.”
“That’s it. What apartment are they in?”
“Why?”
“We’re right here. Let’s have you go reassure them you’re okay.”
“Suddenly you’re all about the caring of what my fr
iends, family, and extended circle think?”
“That’s me. Let’s go visit your landlord. You’ll be glad we did, trust me.”
“Not yet, but maybe I will in a few years.” We walked downstairs, and I knocked on the landlord’s door.
It opened a crack. “Katherine?”
“Hi, Mr. Nareema. Just wanted to let you know I was okay.”
“I saw you on the news. You were very brave.” At least Christopher hadn’t made me look like a dork, insofar as Mr. Nareema was concerned anyway.
“Thanks, it was sort of instinctual, not planned.”
“I understand. There have been people in your apartment. Men. In matching suits.” Mr. Nareema sounded frightened. Then again, he always sounded frightened.
“I know. They were from the government.”
He gasped. “Do we need to flee?”
“No, no,” I reassured quickly. The Nareema family had had to flee their homeland and still weren’t over it. I’d never gotten the full why out of them, mostly because it was hard to talk to any one of them for more than five minutes without feeling like a total paranoid yourself. “They’re good government. Protecting us. They wanted to make sure everything was safe here.”
“It is,” Martini said, with, I had to admit, a very charming smile.
“Good.” Mr. Nareema didn’t sound convinced. “Take care, Katherine. Call if you . . . need help.”
“Thanks, I will.” We backed up a step, and the door closed. Several locks were turned. Martini and I walked down the hall. “That was fun.”
“He sounds like he feels a little better,” Martini said. “Apparently I reassured him.”
“You did? Really? You’re a prince to all, aren’t you?”
“Let’s see if you still think that in a minute,” he said. He took my hand, took a step, and then we were moving. This time I could tell it was faster, much faster. As we flew along, everything was going by so quickly I couldn’t take it in, couldn’t figure out where we were, and my brain politely asked to shut down.
Just as things were going black, we stopped. Martini pulled me into his arms, and I leaned my head against his chest. “Just breathe slowly,” he said quietly, while he massaged the back of my neck.
