Time of Treason

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Time of Treason Page 12

by Susan M. MacDonald


  So far this day really sucked.

  She picked at the peeling polish on her left thumb and watched her companions out of the corner of her eye. Across the bunker, Darius and Anna were peering intently into the transparent computer screen Anna had conjured out of thin air with her orb and they were ignoring her. Had anyone asked if she was hungry? Tired? No. For the last hour or so since they’d teleported back, the two Tyons had hunched over the screen—well, Anna didn’t hunch, she had perfect posture—while page after page of unintelligible symbols scrolled past.

  Typical. As soon as Anna was back in the picture, she, Riley, ceased to exist. Well, that was going to have to stop right now. “Is this going to take much longer?”

  “Yes,” Darius muttered as he squinted and leaned forward. “See that,” he pointed with a finger, “it could be him.”

  “The signature’s distorted. Distance I assume,” Anna agreed.

  Riley glowered at her thumbnail. Screw Alec’s older and clearly weirder brother. If he were having a terrific time soaking up the sun on Bondi Beach right now, she’d make him pay the minute Darius got a hold of him. Nobody stole her orb and made her look like an idiot.

  “I would have thought that big, strong aliens like you would be able to track a couple of teenage boys like this.”

  Riley snapped her fingers.

  Darius turned around in his chair to face her. “There are signals all over the world from Operatives using orbs. We have to correlate each signal with the whereabouts of a known Operative, and because, as you’ll remember, we’re trying to keep this quiet, it means doing a manual search. So, if you don’t mind, Riley, you’ve caused enough trouble for us lately and we’d both appreciate it if you’d let us work in peace.” He turned back to the computer screen and muttered, “And I’m not an alien.”

  Riley snorted and lay down on the bed with a flounce. Fine. Don’t ask for my help. See if I care. The minutes crawled past.

  “What the hell is that?” Darius’s sharp exclamation broke her reverie. He was leaning over the console and pointing at something on the screen she couldn’t see.

  “The signature’s distorted. Derive the coordinates,” Anna ordered.

  “I’m on it,” Darius replied. He waved his orb in a complicated series of movements and then nodded. “Do we have anyone in the South Pacific?”

  Riley’s stomach gave a leap.

  “Tor and Paran are reviewing a potential rip in a country called New Zealand. I believe that is in the Southern portion of this planet. The distortion is too large for an operative. Unless they were attacked during teleportation?” Anna sounded completely blasé. The fact her colleagues might have suffered a serious problem didn’t seem to faze her at all. Unfeeling cow, Riley thought.

  “Looks more like an incomplete to me,” Darius mused quietly. He half twisted around in his chair to look at Riley. “Was Peter on his way to the South Pacific, Riley?”

  Riley crossed her arms. “Like I’m gonna tell you.”

  “Peter didn’t know what he was doing,” Darius said testily. “He needed you to guide him, didn’t he? So, what do you think? Maybe he’s in trouble?”

  Riley shrugged. Peter could be hanging by one ankle over Sydney Harbour as far as she was concerned.

  “Have you considered the effects of not fully knowing how to teleport?” Anna was frowning.

  “No,” Riley conceded after a long and rather uncomfortable silence.

  “Not every Potential has the ability to instinctively travel by orb in the same way that each person’s range of abilities are unique. There isn’t always an innate ability to understand the process or the power. Without that, teleportation may not proceed fully. Incomplete transfers often result in death or a situation where the individual lingers in something we call the Alter.”

  “Forever,” Darius added. “If this signature is his, I need to know. We don’t have much time to reverse the process.”

  “What if it’s not him?” Riley asked. “It might be something else.”

  “Want to take the chance?” Darius retorted.

  “Well,” Riley muttered, “he is a total ass.”

  “True,” Darius agreed to her surprise. “But he’s Alec’s brother. Letting him die, even if Alec is chronically annoyed by him, will hardly endear you either to Alec or his parents, should that be important to you sometime in the future.”

  “And just what do you mean by that?” Riley picked at another chip of polish.

  “Take a whopping big guess, sweetheart.”

  Riley pursed her lips and refused to take the bait.

  “Every minute we spend in argument and innuendo reduces the chance to reverse the teleportation process.” Anna’s droll tone cut the silence. “The longer the individual is within the Alter, the less chance of success.”

  “He’s heading for Sydney, Australia. Happy now?” Riley flung herself off the bed and stamped across the room to stand behind Darius who was waving his orb urgently at the screen. She tapped her foot in annoyance. “Well, is it him or not?”

  “Gimme a minute,” Darius murmured.

  Riley watched the symbols flicker across the screen, sideways and up and down, almost too fast for her eyes. A flicker of worry twisted her stomach for a moment. Unconsciously she leaned forward, resting her hands lightly on Darius’s shoulders as she squinted at the computer screen. She nearly jerked back when she realized that his thoughts were slipping up through her fingertips into her mind.

  He was worried; seriously concerned about the possibility that Peter was hurt or worse. There was conflict, distrust, and anger flitting across his thoughts but these were too abstract for Riley to fully comprehend. She was so engrossed in the transmission of his feelings and the heady sensations of his muscles moving slightly under his shirt that she neglected to be aware that the transfer might go in both directions, until Darius pulled himself away, breaking the contact and piercing her with a sharp look and a raised eyebrow.

  “It’s him.” Anna stood up. “The signature is almost identical to his brother albeit quite a bit weaker. There are at least three locations. We must leave now.”

  “I need an orb,” Riley said quickly. There was no way she was being left behind without one.

  Darius practically leapt to his feet before Anna could draw breath to disagree. “There are a couple of extras. Riley can protect herself. She needs to have one.”

  “I disagree,” Anna frowned. “She is untrained.”

  “She learns fast,” Darius said as he made several complicated waves in front of a blank section of wall with his orb. A small cupboard door appeared and opened. Darius reached in and pulled out a yellow-tinged orb. He tossed it to Riley who caught it before thinking. She immediately pocketed the crystal before Anna could disagree.

  He reached out and clasped Riley’s fingers with his own, grabbing onto Anna at the same time. Riley caught a pungent sense of urgency from both of them in the instant before Anna forced the jump.

  There was the usual disconcerting sensation of nothingness, moving through space and yet not doing so, the unpleasant pull and tug of elements beyond her recognition before the sharp reversal of movement. She landed on the ground, her head spinning nastily. Each teleportation seemed to be worse than the last.

  It took Riley a moment to clamber to her feet and orient to an upright position. She had to wait until she could blink several times and look around without feeling she might lose the contents of her stomach.

  She was standing in the shadow of a large building on what appeared to be a wide pier facing the harbour. The distinct smell of seawater mixed with fried foods and diesel fumes assailed her nostrils. Straight ahead a huge bridge soared majestically across the wide span of deep blue water, which was dotted with boats of all descriptions. Behind her the iconic clamshell roofs of the Sydney Opera House reflected the sunshine off their beige and cream tiles. The large paving stones under her feet with their granite chips almost seemed to shine the further away she loo
ked. The air was alive with the sounds of the milling crowd in front of the building and on the lower balcony, which jutted out over the water, and the motors of the ferries pulling out from the multiple wharves on her far left. A street musician’s plaintiff violin created a mournful undertone to the squeals of excited blue uniform-clad schoolchildren who were resisting a harassed teacher’s effort to keep them in line.

  The scene was straight from the travel brochure. The air was humid and much warmer than the bunker had been. Riley looked carefully around but no one was pointing and shouting in their direction. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed their arrival.

  Darius was already walking around in a circle like a water diviner, his orb glinting in the palm of his hand. His eyes were almost closed. Anna, on the other hand, had moved out of the Opera House’s shadow and was leaning over the edge of the pier, staring down into the lapping water. She too had her orb out but didn’t seem to be using it.

  Riley pulled a face in her general direction. She leaned against an Information sign and focused on Darius, who was walking in increasingly wider circles. If he didn’t watch where he was going, Riley grinned, he was going to topple right over the wall and into the mucky harbour. She crossed the stone walkway to intersect his next circuit.

  “There.” Anna raised an arm and pointed towards an impressive sailboat with gold trim and two women lounging on the back deck. It was bobbing at least a hundred meters directly between the Opera house and the swanky neighbourhood across the bay. “Beside or under.”

  “I don’t see him,” Riley said.

  “Incomplete teleportation means the physical configuration has not reformed from the transfer through the Alter. This is one location where Peter’s signature is present. He is not physically located here.”

  Darius noted Riley’s facial expression at Anna’s incomprehensible explanation and added, “Peter was thinking of this location when he tried to transfer but either he wasn’t clear enough or he had other thoughts intruding. Either way he’s physically not through yet and somewhat split.”

  “And you have to find the places where he nearly came through?” Riley offered.

  “And push it the rest of the way, yes,” Darius smiled.

  “Hope you can swim.” Riley gave Anna an insincere smile before shading her eyes and squinting at the sailboat. Both the sunbathers had eyeshades and earphones on. Neither wore much more than suntan oil.

  “I’ll go,” Darius said a shade too quickly.

  “Big surprise,” Riley smirked. “Interrogate both of them while you’re at it.”

  Anna didn’t seem worried. “I’ll take the next location. Riley will come with me.”

  Darius was already scanning the nearby boats for something he could use for transport. He muttered “uh huh” and walked away with a distinctly preoccupied air.

  “You know he’ll be seriously distracted,” Riley said. She hoped the jealously wasn’t audible.

  “With what?” Anna took hold of Riley’s arm and led her back to the shaded side of the Opera house. Darius was already several meters down the pier and within a moment disappeared into the crowd.

  “The bimbos on the Lido deck,” Riley replied as she allowed herself to be led. She nodded in the direction of the sailboat. “Women fall all over themselves around him. I’d of thought you would worry about it.”

  “Why should I worry?” Anna seemed genuinely puzzled.

  “Coz he’s your lover, that’s why.” Riley shook her head. “You aliens have weird relationship issues I can’t get my head around.”

  “Then don’t try.” Anna ended the conversation. She pointed upwards towards the highest peak of the bridge. “Take a deep breath.”

  This transport was quicker and less distressing but the sudden materialization one hundred and thirty meters above the water on the narrow strip of metal planking was anything but. The wind tore at Riley’s hair and buffeted her against the thin metal railings. She grabbed on and gasped. Dear God in Heaven. She was on top of the freaking bridge!

  Anna appeared as unconcerned as ever, turning her face into the wind so wisps of hair pulled from her ponytail would not obstruct her vision. Already her orb was out and working.

  Riley couldn’t help herself. Her entire body broke into a drenching sweat and her knees threatened to give way altogether. She grabbed onto the metal rail with both hands and muttered a prayer her grandmother had taught her in childhood.

  “Take your orb out and focus your attention on the flagpole on the right,” Anna instructed. She seemed oblivious to Riley’s distress.

  “Ergh,” Riley muttered through clenched teeth. Her stomach was heaving and there was no way she was letting go of the rail to reach her orb. She didn’t even raise her eyes to the wildly flapping Australian flag.

  “You will not fall,” Anna instructed. “Look around you. Several people are walking unconcernedly along these catwalks. You are in no danger.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Riley whispered.

  “You must concentrate on the area next to the flagpole and await my signal,” Anna continued. “I will find the last location and report back immediately.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Take out your orb,” Anna instructed before she winked out of sight.

  A bone-jarring shudder wracked Riley’s entire body. The wind was too strong. If she let go for a second she’d be whisked right over the side and fall to her death. If she let go of the railing she’d slide right down the metal catwalk and fall right off the end. Why hadn’t she volunteered to get the part of Peter that was in the water? Drowning couldn’t be worse.

  Cursing Alec’s brother fluently in English, French, and a smattering of her grandmother’s Yiddish, plus a few made-up words that sounded suitably horrible, Riley wrapped her arm around the railing, moving it only a centimeter at a time, until the fingers of one hand were free enough to pluck the orb from her pocket. The fear of dropping it overcame her before she could pull it free.

  What on earth was she supposed to do? Her palms were soaked and she couldn’t let go of the rail long enough to wipe them on her clothes. She blinked the sweat out of her eyes.

  “Hey, you!”

  The shout was so unexpected that for a moment Riley didn’t realize she was being hailed. It was only with the third, “Hey girl, what are you doing?” that she bothered to look up.

  A tall, suntanned young man wearing a gray and blue coverall, not dissimilar to the Tyon Home Base uniform, was rapidly striding towards her, a frown marring what was otherwise a handsome face. A belt or chain was around his slim waist and seemed to be attached in some way to the railings; Riley could hear the sliding clink as it moved from one section to the next.

  “You aren’t supposed to be up here alone,” the young man called. He was only meters away. “Where’s your group?”

  “Oh no,” Riley groaned. Any minute now Anna would begin the process of pulling Peter through from wherever the bits of him were located and they did not need an audience.

  “Are you hurt, mate?” The man squatted down beside her. Riley tore her eyes away from the horrors below to look at him.

  He was younger than she’d first thought. Maybe a few years older than her. Sun-bleached curls clustered tightly around his head. His nose was peeling and his greenishbrown eyes twinkled with humour despite his obvious concern. “Your group isn’t supposed to leave you behind.” He had a distinct Australian accent and fabulously white teeth. “It’s against the rules. Who’s your guide?”

  Riley just shook her head. She looked around quickly. Sure enough, a group of a dozen or so similarly clad people were trouping in single file downwards on the opposite side of the bridge. The catwalks were organized like a kind of high-rise sidewalk. She shuddered again. What kind of lunatics would do this for fun?

  “And where’s your jumpsuit, mate?” He reached out and tugged the edge of her sleeve. “You are with a tour, right?”

  Riley opened her mouth to reply but before s
he could get any explanation out, the orb in her pocket shuddered and emitted a low buzzing sound. Riley startled.

  “Here, your phone’s ringing.” The boy reached towards her pocket. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

  “No!” Riley yelled as a vision of her orb slipping from his hands swam sickeningly in front of her eyes.

  It was too late. The boy unbuttoned the pocket with a quick flip of his fingers and pulled the orb out. Sunlight flashed into the crystal and for a moment blinded both of them. The boy gave a sharp cry and stumbled backward.

  “My orb,” Riley screeched.

  21

  The memories of Logan’s repeated attacks on his mind surged through Alec on a wave of adrenalin. Not again. No way. Alec took a step back. He forced the words out of his dry mouth and tried to unobtrusively drop his hand close to the pocket with the orb. “Who the hell are you?”

  Logan’s pale eyes watched the movement with unmistakable discernment. “Answer my question. Where did you get that orb?”

  Before Alec could even begin to think of a response, the orb in his pocket shivered slightly and a cold burning sensation flashed from within the crystal’s center to sear the skin against his pocket. Alec couldn’t help the yelp of surprise and pain.

  Logan’s orb had simultaneously glowed wildly between his fingers. The big man raised his fist in front of his eyes and peered intently at the orb for a moment, before the glow settled. Inside his jeans’ pocket, Alec’s own orb stopped moving and the burning sensation ceased. Logan’s stern face wrinkled into a severe frown and he crossed the couple of steps to Alec’s side in less than a heartbeat. Alec backed up quickly, desperate to put as much distance between him and the Tyon Commander as possible, but his foot tangled in the bundle of bedcovers on the floor. He just regained his balance as Logan’s iron grip encircled his upper arm.

 

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