Kiss Across Chaos

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  “They’re the Stoney tribe, here,” Veris added. “Nakoda people.”

  “Okay,” Aran said easily. “Stoney-Nakoda band, then. It doesn’t matter, is what I’m saying. You’re looking at the color of his skin and basing your assumptions about the power streams on that.” Aran said back with a small smile. “Which means Chiniquay is smarter than most people think.”

  Sydney leaned forward so she could see Aran at the end of the table. “Chiniquay has the local businessmen in his pocket?” Sydney was a politician of a different type, but understood power, all the same.

  Aran nodded. “They’re pissed about missing out on whatever he promised them. That’s why the Safeway owner is shouting. He wants the deal Chiniquay dangled.” He paused. “If Chiniquay has the businessmen and all their influence, in a town this small, then I have to ask why he lost the election. Maybe there is a need to recount.”

  “Interesting you should say that,” Taylor said. “I was talking to the librarian in town yesterday. Betty is on the town council, too. She said there was enough evidence of possible tampering that they were seriously considering calling for a second election.”

  Aran sat back and picked up his wine glass. “There you are, then.”

  “Thank you, Sherlock,” Brody added.

  “Watson will send you my bill,” Aran replied.

  A small chuckle ran around the table.

  “There’s two doctors at the table,” Alexander pointed out. “Which one did you have in mind?”

  Aran swirled the wine in the bottom of his glass. “Actually, there’s three, if you’re counting the degrees properly.”

  “Thank you,” Taylor said, with a broad smile. She blew Aran a kiss.

  Alexander inclined his head toward her. “Although you will forgive me if I never ask you to lance a boil.”

  “Ugh.” Sydney shook her head. “Criminology is a cakewalk, compared to family medicine.”

  “Although I think Aran was proposing that his Watson merely write an invoice,” Veris said.

  “A fully-fledged medical doctor writing invoices?” London said, and laughed.

  Aran smiled. “It’s called credential inflation. Next year, all the professors will become janitors. So get your scrub brush out, Far.”

  Everyone laughed even more loudly this time, while Veris tried to look affronted.

  “Before you take away his merit badges, let me move, first,” Taylor said.

  “Away from the table?” London asked.

  “Away from the world…and maybe the universe.”

  The meal continued on in that vein, with moments of laughter, most of them supplied by Aran.

  Taylor seemed to glow with happiness whenever she glanced at her son, which she did frequently.

  Jesse sighed to herself. Why had Aran stayed away so long?

  Even though the meal was quickly finished, everyone lingered at the table for the rest of the evening. As it was the early hours of the morning in Greenwich time, Jesse found herself drooping. She didn’t understand how Aran could look so fresh and energetic, for he was working with the same jet lag, but he was clearly enjoying himself.

  When Taylor lifted her to her feet and drew her away from the table, Jesse realized she had actually nodded off. “Sorry,” Jesse mumbled. “It’s been a really long day.”

  “Which bed do you want, Jesse?” Taylor asked softly, as she led her into the front room.

  “Window seat, please,” Jesse said quickly. She loved sleeping on the window seat, where she could look out upon the mountains and the clear air and stars above them. And she didn’t mind the hardness of the seat beneath the cushions. It wasn’t any more rigid than some of the planks she had slept upon during missions, or solid ground, which she had dozed upon more than once.

  Taylor steered her over to the window seat, rearranged cushions and patted the long cushions on the seat itself.

  Jesse curled up on the seat as Taylor dropped the blanket that usually laid over the back of the sofa in front of the fireplace over her. Jesse drew the blanket in around her.

  “Warm enough?” Taylor murmured.

  “Mmm.” She could feel sleep pulling over her once more. This was the sort of exhaustion that couldn’t be denied. Her body was going to make her sleep, no matter what her brain thought about it.

  She heard Aran’s voice from the dining room as her eyes closed.

  When she next woke, it was still dark outside, and the lights in the dining room had been lowered. She heard Veris’ voice, and then Sydney’s, too low to make out the words.

  “It doesn’t matter if she is a jumper or not,” Neven added, his voice a little louder. “Time has singled her out for some reason. Maybe she has a jumper’s DNA to pass on. No one knows, Veris. You can’t make assumptions.”

  And that was when Jesse realized that everyone had gathered here tonight to deconstruct her life, after all.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jesse stirred and got to her feet. She instantly shivered as the cooler air in the room replaced the toasty blanket. She picked up the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders once more and moved back into the dining room.

  She was surprised to find that the three—Veris, Sydney and Neven—were the only ones at the table. The table had been cleared of dishes and the lights turned down to leave twin puddles of yellow light gleaming onto the varnished wood at either end of the table.

  Sydney had moved up to where Veris had been sitting. So had Neven and they were speaking with their heads together.

  They looked up as Jesse moved into the room. None of them jumped or looked awkward, though.

  Sydney pulled out the chair next to her. “You’re on a different time zone, I guess.” She patted the chair.

  “Mmm…” Jesse sat in the chair. “I think hearing my name woke me.”

  Only Neven shifted his expression. He smiled. “You aren’t the subject under discussion,” he told her easily. “Just the object lesson that got us onto the subject in the first place.”

  “You’re talking about time again.”

  “Always,” Sydney said. “It defines our lives. Haven’t you noticed?”

  “It has made some changes to mine, lately,” Jesse admitted.

  Neven glanced at Veris. “There. She’s wrapped up in time as much as any of us. Point. Set. Match.”

  Veris shook his head. “Not without details. Care to share, Jesse?”

  Jesse drew in a quick breath, waking up properly. “Um…no, not really.” And she watched Veris, waiting to see if he would grow angry with her lack of cooperation.

  Veris just smiled. It was the small, warm one.

  Sydney gave a soft laugh. “That’ll teach you,” she told Veris.

  Veris ruffled a hand through his hair and looked at Sydney. “Neither of you has proved the point to my satisfaction, yet.”

  “We don’t have to,” Sydney said, her tone calm. Too calm. It sounded as though Sydney had made that statement more than once already. “Send a letter to Nayara. Have her jump back here and confirm it.”

  “Confirm what?” Jesse asked, puzzled.

  “That we’re the only natural jumpers anywhere in time,” Sydney said.

  “Really?” Jesse breathed, astonished. “There isn’t more of you in parallel worlds?”

  “There would be, if our other selves didn’t get themselves killed off,” Neven said. “But that’s not the real point,” he added, with a tone that said he was also circling back to a previous point. “The point is that we are here for a reason—”

  “You want it to be for a reason,” Veris said. “It was a wild mingling of genes that produced jumpers, that’s all. A one in a quadrillion chance. Which is why there are no others.”

  “You know that for certain?” Jesse asked curiously.

  “We’ve been charting other timelines for years, now,” Sydney said. “We’ve never come across other jumpers in those worlds or heard rumors of them. The timescape is bare of others when I cross it. The only ti
me I’ve ever felt anyone in the timescape, it’s been one of us.”

  “That doesn’t mean there aren’t any,” Neven added. “I don’t care how unusual the DNA mix had to be to produce me, or Sydney or any of us. It can’t be unique. It can’t be that rare. There are…” He paused, and Jesse could see he was counting silently. “Seven jumpers in this family alone, and that’s who we know about. We’re still waiting to see if Liberty or ours have any abilities at all.”

  “You’re trying to make something significant out of a simple passing on of genes,” Veris rumbled. His arms were crossed, but he didn’t look upset. He merely looked amused. Interested, too. This was engaging his mind. Challenging him.

  Jesse knew he would appear much different when facing an enemy. She never wanted to be in the position to find out, either.

  Neven shook his head. “We call ourselves family, Veris, but there’s no genetic connection between us. Sydney and I have no blood connection to Taylor or each other. Neither does London. If jumpers are so rare, then how do you explain that three separate sets of jumpers happened to find each other in this time and place? That’s a coincidence too large to be chance.”

  Veris shook his head. “We’re a one-time deal, Neven. I know that doesn’t please you, but if we were not the only ones, Nayara and her people wouldn’t be back here every second week, checking in on us. They want to make sure we survive to their time.”

  “For reasons unknown to us,” Sydney added, her tone dark.

  “That’s a different conversation,” Veris said shortly.

  “Aren’t you thinking two dimensionally?” Jesse asked.

  Everyone looked at her, their brows lifting.

  “Excuse me?” Neven said, but his dark eyes were dancing. “You’re accusing Veris of channeled thinking?”

  Jesse swallowed. “I suppose, if you put it that way, I must be.”

  Sydney snuffled back laughter. “You’d better explain yourself before Veris explodes.”

  Veris didn’t look upset, though. Well, not much. His stare was intense, but she didn’t think—she hoped, anyway—that there was no anger in it.

  “It was something I was researching,” Jesse said. “For a book,” she added awkwardly, for the research had been for the alternative history book that was the cause of everyone sitting here now and arguing about time. Again. “About the evolution of man and peak times in history. There was a time when he evolved enough to grasp tools and figure out how to use them to his advantage, which let him thrive. There was a time when man had evolved enough to sort out agriculture and get along well enough with others to build communities to protect the farmers while they grew food.”

  Veris nodded. “Another was when man lived long enough to have three generations alive at the same time. The grandparents could pass along survival tips, which vastly accelerated the pace of adaptions.”

  Jesse hesitated.

  “That means ‘go on, you have my attention’,” Sydney interpreted.

  Jesse finished up. “What if this time here and now is another peak? Maybe the DNA has always been there, but only now, has man evolved to the point where he can use time. That’s why the jumpers have emerged—because now they appreciate time and have the mental development required to use it.”

  Veris stared at her. Neven grinned.

  Jesse let out a rough breath. Veris’ gaze was intimidating, even when he was relaxed.

  Then he stirred and scratched thoughtfully at his throat. “That’s a possible explanation for why the DNA just suddenly appeared,” he said. “It doesn’t explain where it goes, and why Nayara’s people are so interested in us.”

  “And they’re not about to tell us,” Sydney added, in the same vexed tone.

  Neven rested his hand on the table. “The fact is, somewhere in our future, natural jumpers no longer pop up. Does that mean the gene is recessive and expires through natural selection? It’s not like our kids can intermarry just to preserve the gene.”

  “That’s a sobering thought,” Sydney said softly.

  “It’s one of two possibilities,” Veris said. His voice was soft.

  “What’s the other?” Neven asked.

  Jesse could already see where Veris was going. She’d seen genocide, up close and personal. “The time jumpers are all destroyed before they can pass on their DNA,” she said.

  Neven sat back. “Damn,” he breathed.

  “Yeah,” Sydney said in heavy agreement.

  A slight movement in the corner of her eye made Jesse look toward the door into the kitchen. Aran stood with his shoulder against it, his arms crossed. He was watching her, a smile at the corner of his mouth.

  How long had he been standing there? How much had he heard? Had he witnessed her arguing with his father?

  Veris looked up, too. “You didn’t sleep long,” he told Aran.

  Aran pushed himself away from the doorframe and moved into the dining room. “I was suddenly awake. I’m on British time, and it’s ten in the morning, there.”

  “Greenwich time?” Neven said sharply.

  Jesse could feel her cheeks heating, as Sydney glanced at her with a thoughtful expression.

  Veris did not look at her. He got to his feet, instead, and patted Aran’s shoulder as he passed him. “You both need coffee, then. Sit. I’ll get the kettle going.”

  “As long as you don’t actually make the coffee, Far,” Aran called out after him. He looked back at Neven and Sydney. “The sludge at the bottom of Athair’s old Lamborghini would taste better than what Far manages to make.”

  “Give him a break,” Jesse shot back. “He wasn’t even human when coffee arrived in the western world.”

  Sydney leaned toward Jesse. “If you don’t like his coffee, never ask him to make tea. You’ll live to regret it.”

  “I heard that!” Veris called out softly from the kitchen as water ran.

  “Good!” Sydney shot back.

  “Maybe his coffee-making skills are the reason time jumpers disappeared,” Aran said judiciously, sitting at the table. “We all ran away.”

  By the time the other humans in the house were awake and clamoring for food, Jesse realized that no one was going to quiz her about the book. No one was asking any impossible-to-answer questions about anything.

  She learned, though, they had been thinking it through, when Brody drew her away from the breakfast table and into the front room, where her temporary bed under the window had scattered cushions onto the floor.

  A man with short, dirty blond hair thickly touched with gray stood at the other window. He was only slightly taller than Jesse, but he was a rolling lump of muscle. Jesse sized him up with a glance. He wasn’t ex-military. He didn’t have the bearing. But he could be dangerous in a blunt object way. His fists could do real damage with that much muscle behind it.

  He turned as they approached, and Jesse put his age at mid-forties or maybe a youthful fifty. There were deep creases at the corners of his hazel eyes and around his mouth. His skin might have been fair to match his hair, but sun had aged it and left it permanently tanned.

  “Jesse, this is Andy,” Brody said.

  Andy stuck out his hand and Jesse shook it. Yeah, there was packed-away power there, for sure, but that wasn’t all his grip told her. “Hello Andy,” she said. “Cool hand.”

  Andy glanced at Brody, with a grin. “You called it.” He looked back at Jesse. “Yeah, I’m of the Blood now…but it’s new to me, so don’t judge me, ‘kay?”

  Brody put his hand on Andy’s shoulder. “A long time ago, Andy helped Taylor out. Then we helped Andy. He was one of my band’s crew for years and he ended up helping us all over again. We’ve been trading favors for years. Andy is in personal security now.”

  A bodyguard.

  Jesse wrapped her arms around her middle. “You think I can’t look after myself?” Her voice came out too high. “I’m not going to engage with the sharks, Brody. I don’t need protection.”

  But it was Andy who replied. �
�I’m guessing you haven’t had much practice dealing with the media, then. You might be able to look after yourself in normal circumstances…” His gaze flickered over her. “Military, yes?”

  She nodded stiffly.

  “You’re used to working among enemies who wear uniforms to declare they’re the enemy, who you can fire at to get ‘em out of the way. The media, though…that’s a different sort of enemy. You can’t wave your pistol to scatter them. You certainly can’t fire it and you can’t take ‘em out to clear your way. They’ll hound you day and night, if you don’t handle them just right and win them over with your charm. That’s why you leave all the manhandling to me.”

  Jesse squeezed her middle even harder. “But I have no intention of dealing with them at all. I’m going to ignore them and go back to my life.”

  “Forgive me, Jesse,” Andy said gently, “but you might not get a choice in that.”

  “Andy has guarded some pretty big names, Jesse. He knows what he’s doing,” Brody added.

  Unhappiness settled in her middle.

  “Let her breathe while she can,” Veris said, from behind them.

  Jesse glanced over her shoulder, startled. Veris stood only a few paces away, listening in. So did Alexander. And Aran.

  This, then, was the moment she had been braced to face since Aran had jumped her here, yesterday afternoon.

  Veris came up to them and rested his hand briefly on Andy’s shoulder. It was a greeting, she realized. “Jesse isn’t interested in being a public figure, Andy. Can you back off until she needs you?”

  Jesse focused on his phrasing. He’d said “until”, not “if”. Her heart sank. “This really is going to happen?” Her voice was hoarse. “I’m going to get smeared across social media whether I like it or not?”

  Andy gave her a sympathetic smile, that made it all the way to his eyes. “You might be one of the lucky ones that the press gives up on. Plenty of stars have pushed back and the media know to leave them alone. But you have to teach them and until they learn that about you, it could be…rough.” He grimaced.

  Aran touched her elbow. Jesse knew it was his touch just from the heat alone. “Harper Lee was notoriously private, and the press left her alone. They’ll figure it out with you, too,” he murmured.