“Leaving? Where’s he going?”
“Blue ring,” Myell said. “Very pretty. Comes to take me away. So I can save mankind.”
He sounded earnest enough. For a lunatic.
“When is the blue ring coming?” Osherman asked.
Myell waved a hand. “Tomorrow. Say, noon? Noon would be good. I need to sleep in a little. Homer, make it so!”
Jodenny asked, “Who’s Homer?”
Osherman shook his head.
She leaned closer. “Can you make it stop, Sergeant?”
“Nope.” Myell slid sideways and burrowed into the sofa cushion. His eyes were sliding shut. “Don’t know how.”
“It’s a very peculiar thing, this time travel,” Osherman said.
Peering closely at him, she realized he was far less drunk than he appeared. Jodenny glanced back at Myell, who was snoring loudly. She said, “You got him drunk on purpose.”
Osherman shrugged. “Got him to talk more.”
“Anything worthwhile?”
“He loves you,” Osherman replied. “Or he did, once. Before you started rejecting him at every turn.”
“I’ve never even met him,” Jodenny retorted.
“Do you remember Richi Miller’s party? The Ithaca Café?”
The Ithaca Café on Porter Street had been a favorite of academy students for generations. Strong coffee, breakfast available at every hour, and when Jodenny had liberty there was always a friendly face or two to be found in the large vinyl booths. Richi was a bright guy, funny and stubborn, not the military type at all. His father the general had pressured him into joining. For his birthday during their last year there had just been four or five of them from political science class, a few rounds of beer, a lot of peanuts and chips.
The most memorable part of the evening was when she and Richi slipped out to the alley for some kissing and groping, and returned flushed and smiling to their friends. If Myell was a time traveler, dropping in and out of her life without consequences, he could have been there at the party. Could have seen her with her hand cupping Richi Miller’s firm backside, seen his hand fondling her breasts.
“This is all ridiculous,” Jodenny said.
“If you don’t believe him, why are you sticking around?” Osherman asked.
She glanced at the sofa but didn’t answer.
“This blue ring of his,” Osherman said. “He says it takes him around places, through space and time. He’s trying to find something called Kultana. We looked it up while we were down in the pub. It’s a male god from Aboriginal Australia, or sometimes a female god. From the Land of the Dead, or sometimes in charge of the rain. There’s also a Kultana orchid, a village in India back on Earth, a Kultana museum on Mary River, and at least a dozen other possibilities. He says he knew all that, and none of them seem to fit the bill.”
“So what’s next?”
“If that ring shows up tomorrow, I intend to be here. Along with scientists and security guards and anyone else who might help us catch it.”
“You want to catch it?”
“You don’t?”
She thought that over. An intergalactic device that could transport someone across the galaxy and through time. The benefit of that to humanity could be enormous.
“Well,” Jodenny said. “What kind of future wife would I be if I let you have all the fun?”
“Gampa,” a voice said. “Wake up.”
Myell rolled away into the warmth and softness of his blankets. He didn’t want to talk to Homer. Didn’t want to talk to anyone. His head hurt and his tongue felt thick, and he had the sneaking suspicion he was due a massive hangover if he actually dared to wake up.
“It’s about the kids,” Homer insisted.
He forced one eye open. The room was dark, but Homer was backlit by spectral blue light. Nice special effect, that. Homer was full of special effects
“What about them?” Myell croaked out.
“The ouroboros will be here soon. For you. Only for you. You can’t take them with you.”
Myell wished he had more whiskey. Or something smooth and warm to ease the grit in his mouth. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The ouroboros is only for you,” Homer insisted. “It’s geared to your brainwaves, your body print. You damaged it by bringing the kids with you this last trip. It’s like too many people clinging to one life preserver. You bring them again, and you all might drown.”
Myell pulled himself up and sat against the bulkhead for support. He was still wearing the civilian clothes they’d given him, along with the excellent socks. His boots had disappeared, though. He squinted at Homer’s bright light. “Did you say drown?”
Homer stepped back from the bed, bringing some of the light with him. He was dressed today all in red, with a silver cummerbund and large white sneakers. “I mean you can’t do it. You’ll get yourselves killed.”
Myell pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes. “But I can’t—I can’t leave them here. They need their home. Their parents.”
“They are at home. With their parents. The minute you left, the temporary eddy dissolved. Any changes you made dissolved with it.”
“I don’t think I’ve had enough alcohol to understand this conversation.”
“Kyle and Twig are home in their beds right now, in Providence. The ones who are here are just remnants.”
“And if I leave them here, they’ll just—what? Cease to exist? Die?”
Homer sighed. “I don’t make the rules of time travel, Gampa. I just report them. It’s not dying if they’re not supposed to be here at all.”
“Sounds like dying to me,” Myell insisted. “Besides, it wasn’t my idea to bring them along anyway. There was a Roon. In Providence. Did you know about that? Is that in your historical records?”
“A Roon?” Homer squeaked out. “What do you mean?”
A knock on the hatch disturbed them. Myell stepped out of bed and slid his hand over the latch. Jodenny was outside, still in her uniform, looking tired.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice low enough not to carry to the kids’ room. “I heard you talking to someone.”
Myell turned, but Homer was already gone.
“It was nothing,” he said. “What time is it?”
“Almost oh-three-hundred.”
Too early for the blue ring to show up, then. He still had a few hours. He turned into the cabin’s small head and splashed cold water on his face. A merciful world would have provided some aspirin in the cabinet but the shelves were empty. Maybe someone thought he’d do something dangerous with it. But Sam Osherman was the dangerous one, him and that goddamned whiskey. He settled for swallowing cold water from his cupped hand. The sharpness made him cough, and he rubbed his chest.
He emerged from the head hoping that Jodenny had left, but she was sitting in the chair by the bed. She had turned the lights on, low.
“I’m really tired, Lieutenant,” Myell said.
She didn’t budge. “Who’s Homer? You were talking to him. And you mentioned him earlier.”
“I talk in my sleep. He’s just someone I worked with once.”
She didn’t look like she believed him.
He tried to look innocent and sincere.
“Tell me about the academy,” Jodenny finally said. “You’ve traveled in time and met me there?”
Myell sat on the edge of the mattress. He didn’t know why he expected this Jodenny to be any less stubborn than the other ones. “It’s not important.”
“It’s important to me.”
He was careful with his words. “You were younger than now, but not by much. You were happy, I guess. You liked being in the academy. Liked the rules and camaraderie.”
“That’s not very specific.”
He met her gaze squarely. “Your hair was short. Only came down to your shoulders. You were skinnier than you are now. Maybe a size smaller.”
The tips of her ears turned red. “That’s all?”
Mye
ll coughed. “You kissed him.”
Jodenny leaned back in her chair. Myell listened to the ever-present hum of the ship. His hangover was getting worse, not better. His head hurt with a steady throb and his chest was getting tighter. But it was the memory of her kissing Richi Miller in the alley that still stung, even though it had been several eddies since he’d seen it happen.
“You’re jealous,” she said.
He didn’t deny it.
“Did you introduce yourself? Did we talk?”
“We talked.” Another cough pushed out of his chest. “You weren’t very—”
He stopped then, appalled, and rose off the bed. “It’s coming. Get the kids.”
“What’s coming?” Jodenny stood as well. “It’s three in the morning—”
Myell pushed past her to Twig and Kyle’s room. The hatch slid open under his approach. “Kids, get up, wake up.”
Jodenny, following, grasped his arm. “What’s wrong?”
The lights flared up. Kyle grimaced and Twig said, “Nana?”
“It’s all right.” Jodenny scooped Twig up in her arms. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
Myell tugged Kyle from bed. “The ouroboros. It’s coming for us. Hold on tight and don’t let go, okay?”
“But I don’t want to go,” Twig said in Jodenny’s arms. “I want to stay here!”
Osherman appeared at the hatch with a security tech behind him. “What’s going on?”
“It’s early,” Myell’s breath was a painful wheeze now. “It’s coming right now. Twig, come here.”
She buried her face in Jodenny’s shoulder, her thin arms shaking. “No.”
He tried to go to her, to wrench her away, but instead crashed to his knees on the carpet. Only Kyle’s support under his arm kept him from collapsing altogether. The security tech was already calling for an emergency medical team. Jodenny had backed up against the bulkhead with Twig, and Osherman’s hand was squeezing her shoulder.
“Please,” Myell gasped. “She has to come with us.”
Osherman had been staring at Myell. Slowly he said to Jodenny, “Give her to me.”
Jodenny asked, “Sir?”
“Give her to me,” Osherman said, and there was no mistaking it was an order. “Come here, Twig.”
Reluctantly Jodenny handed over the little girl. Osherman smoothed back her hair with his hand and said, “He’s your grandfather, right?”
She nodded.
“Then trust him. And trust me.”
Osherman took three steps forward and thrust Twig into Myell’s arms.
Jodenny cried, “No—” just as a blue light flashed, sparked, was gone.
CHAPTER SIX
Another Friday night, another romantic dinner. Jodenny hadn’t been this happy in a long time. She and Sam Osherman made their way through the crowds as a comet blazed on the domed overhead of the Rocks. Passengers and crew alike dined at the sidewalk cafés, and danced at the nightclubs, and watched street performers. Teenagers flirted and children played tag and Jodenny slipped her hand into Osherman’s. He smiled down on her.
“Drink or two?” he asked. “Dancing, or maybe an old-fashioned movie?”
“Let’s just walk,” she said. Duty and obligations and the constant pressure of shipboard life fell away. Outside the bulkheads, the great space river Alcheringa carried the Yangtze on its long journey through the Seven Sisters. Inside, Jodenny enjoyed the pull and push and vibrancy of the crowds.
A creek ran down the center of the promenade, flanked by winding stone paths. Koala bots frolicked in the gum and eucalyptus trees of the promenade. Lovers strolled there with heads bent low and eyes only for each other. Jodenny turned and kissed Osherman, and he gave her a wide smile.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“No special reason.”
He kissed her back, right there under the trees and stars, and Jodenny could have stood there forever but for a girl’s quick, high shout.
“Nana!”
She turned from Sam’s lips to see a man, a boy, and a girl standing just a few meters away, gawking at her. The man wore wrinkled civilian clothes and had no shoes over his socks. The kids were in pajamas. The man had his hand on the girl’s shoulder and appeared to be holding her back.
“Nana!” the girl said again.
“She doesn’t remember,” the man said. “Sorry, ma’am. Sir. She’s a little mixed up.”
Jodenny had never seen any of them before. A quick glance at Osherman confirmed that he, too, was confused.
“How do you know I’m a lieutenant?” she asked. Neither of them were wearing uniforms, after all. “Who are you?”
“Never mind,” the man said. “We won’t bother you anymore.”
He tugged the children away. The girl left reluctantly, glancing backward over her shoulder.
“That was strange,” Osherman said.
“They must have us confused with someone else,” Jodenny said.
Every planet in the Seven Sisters boasted of pristine beaches and welcoming seas, but this stretch of golden sand on Kiwi was the best tropical shoreline Jodenny had ever visited. She bobbed up and down in the warm salty water with Osherman right beside her. Their masks and fins hung loosely on their arms, because kissing was much more fun than snorkeling.
“You should get out of the sun,” Osherman murmured, his lips soft against hers. “You’re getting a sunburn.”
She hooked her arms around his neck. “I don’t care.”
He laughed and kissed her nose. “You say that now, but you’ll be sorry later. Go on. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
The private beach was mostly deserted on this midweek afternoon, with many of the resort’s guests off at the pools or saunas, or getting massages, or eating in the fine restaurants. Jodenny didn’t notice the man and two children standing on the shore until she waded into the shallows. They were dressed oddly for a day at the beach—heavy clothes, boots, and were those goggles on the girl’s head?
“Good morning?” Jodenny asked, just to be polite, though she didn’t like the way they were looking at her—with sadness, maybe, or perhaps it was resignation.
“We’re really hungry,” the girl said.
The boy pinched her arm. “She’s not going to feed us, stupid.”
Jodenny frowned at them. “Are you guests here?”
“No,” the man said. “We’re just passing through.”
She continued past them, wondering if she should alert hotel security. Out in the waves, Osherman floated backward with his face turned to the sky. The strange man was steering the kids away from the resort and toward the trees. They’d find nothing in there but jungle, snakes, spiders, and monkeys.
She grabbed her tote bag and said, “Hey, wait up.”
They waited until she caught up to them. Jodenny offered the bag. “Here. There’s some sandwiches and water.”
The man winced, but the boy grabbed the bag and held it tight.
“Thanks,” the man said.
“Where are you going?” Jodenny asked.
The little girl said, “We keep jumping through time.”
“Jo!” That was Osherman, striding out of the surf with water glittering on his torso. He gave the three strangers a thorough look. “What’s going on?”
“Doesn’t matter,” the man said, and steered the kids toward the trees again.
Jodenny wanted to follow them, to talk some sense into the man. As the adult he shouldn’t be dragging those children around with those heavy clothes on. But Osherman said, “Refugees, probably. I hear there’s a bunch just moved into town. Come on, let’s go inside before you get really sunburned.”
Later, standing on the balcony of their room, she looked at the dark jungle under the nighttime sky.
“What are you doing?” Osherman asked, his hands sliding up around her waist. He smelled good, like dark spice. His lips brushed the back of her neck.
“Just thinking,” she said. “I wonder who they we
re.”
Out in the darkness, a blue light flashed.
“Repeat after me,” Captain Balandra said. “I, Jodenny Katherine Scott, do hereby take this man as my lawfully wedded husband . . .”
Jodenny’s hands were sweaty on her bouquet, the lace collar of her dress made her neck itch, and the sun was slanting at an unfortunate angle through the trees over Providence. The summer day was achingly gorgeous, though, and all nervousness aside, she was happy to be standing in the middle of town with an appreciative audience and Sam Osherman at her side.
It had been ten years since their shipwreck on Providence. Ten years of Osherman gradually overcoming the trauma of his Roon captivity. His voice had come back after three years. He’d stopped prowling the town at night after four. By year six he’d proven himself to be a valued member of the community and by year eight, after he’d started dating one of the junior officers from the ship, Jodenny had realized just how much she and her daughter Lisa missed him from their lives.
And so here they were, standing under the sun, getting married. Osherman stood in his best pants and a white shirt that had been ironed. Lisa, her dark hair frizzy in the humidity, wore a green dress that she’d already managed to get dirty, and her bouquet of white lilies was already wilting. Jodenny thought her daughter had never looked more beautiful.
In fact, except for the shouting, it was all quite lovely.
“Let me go!” a boy was saying, indignantly twisting as Sheriff Mark Sweeney escorted him down the middle of the street. The kid was twelve or thirteen years old, tall, with sandy brown hair and a profile almost familiar to Jodenny.
Captain Balandra said, “What the—”
“Found this one hiding by the school,” Mark reported, heedless of the fact that he was interrupting Jodenny’s wedding. Or maybe not so heedless. He’d always had his own opinions about her love life.
“Who the hell are you?” asked Captain Balandra.
It was a great question. The kid hadn’t come in on the Kamchatka with them. Jodenny knew every passenger, every member of the crew. He was also too old to have been born here on Providence. It wasn’t as if strangers dropped by the planet every day, after all. And there was something disconcertingly familiar about him. Something in his eyes, something guarded and observant, and where had she seen that before?
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