by Robyn Nyx
She pulled her hand from beneath her mom’s and ran her finger and thumb over her brow to stave off the vice-like grip focused on the front of her brain. “How much time does she have?” Landry was already thinking about the worst-case scenario of having to kidnap Priscilla. They wanted her to help, but they probably didn’t have this in mind.
“Without further investigation, I can’t tell.”
Her mom paused, maybe to temper the surgical way she was speaking about someone Landry clearly cared for.
“I’m sorry, Pumpkin. I’ll do whatever I can, but I need you to get Priscilla to the island alone.”
Landry recalled her last foray to the island with an unofficial inhabitant. She’d got through it, but another run at it might not be so successful. “Do you need to run it past Jenkin?”
Her mom smiled, and Landry saw the strength she’d been lucky enough to inherit.
“We have a much more equitable relationship now, professionally and personally. This is my research. It’s my decision to make.”
Landry nodded. “Okay. I’ll make it happen.” Lizbeth and Caitlin were desperate. It was life-or-death for their little girl, no in between. Landry hoped that would mean they’d be willing to trust her with Priscilla’s life.
Her mom reached over and gently held Landry’s face. “You’re doing all you can, Pumpkin. This is the best chance Priscilla has of surviving whatever it is that’s attacking her system.”
What if I came back empty-handed? “Will it work?” An acrid assault knotted her insides. How could she face the girls again if she returned with Priscilla…limp and lifeless in a cold wooden box?
“You know I can’t guarantee anything. Tests in animal subjects have all been positive for a wide variety of diseases, but if we were in the outside world, we’d be a good distance from FDA approval.” She wrapped her hands around the mug as if to warm herself and sipped at her coffee. “I have to do a full body scan to see what we’re dealing with before I could even begin to forecast our probability of success.”
Landry pushed her plate away. Lizbeth’s food was as tasty as it always was, but the worry was making it impossible to even think about eating. She looked at her mom and saw nothing but concern and love. She wanted Priscilla to know that kind of love when she was older. Landry had a chance to help save her, to make sure she reached her thirties, and beyond.
She stood and kissed her mom’s forehead. “I need to speak to them now.”
Her mom nodded. “I’ll wait here. We need to discuss the return mission to Chicago.”
Fuck. Delaney. Life was so much simpler when all she had to concentrate on was missions. And so much lonelier. The only stable thing in her life right now was Jade, and she hadn’t even managed to make love to her since she got back. Would she stick around when everything was so…so fucked up? Breathe. Landry headed toward her front door. One thing at a time. Priscilla. Delaney. Jade. Then I just have to figure out what I want to do with my future.
Chapter Fourteen
Garrett’s reaction to seeing Landry walking toward his train with Priscilla on her shoulders resembled a hatchetfish.
“I could sink a three-pointer in that hole.” Landry tossed Garrett a six-pack of Twinkies and smiled as he floundered unsuccessfully to catch it. He picked it up and nodded his thanks.
“Jadey would’ve caught that.”
Landry’s smile grew wider at Priscilla’s sage observation and the no-nonsense way she delivered it.
“So…?”
Garrett’s consternation was warranted. The last time he’d let Landry on his train with a civilian, Jenkin had threatened to relegate him to island clean up. Only the intervention of Landry’s mom saved him the job he adored.
“Check your manifest. Dr. Donovan should’ve added Priscilla Ross.”
Garrett pulled his comms unit from his pants pocket but looked dubious. “Is this why the doc was here yesterday?”
“Yeah. It’s an urgent situation, hoss.”
Garrett took the time to really look at Priscilla, and Landry saw his face change as he took in her pale complexion and palpable illness, and he comprehended once again it was a life-and-death situation. The fact that this time Landry was bringing a child to the island seemed to strike something deep at his soul, and he swallowed hard.
“Is this the beginning of a new era for us?”
Landry tilted her head and shrugged. “That’s not for me to say, hoss. I’m not in charge.”
Garrett raised his eyebrows and fake-coughed. “Are you sure about that?”
He looked away quickly when Landry responded with a “don’t push it” look and concentrated on downloading his latest cargo list. A few taps of his screen had him nodding like an old-fashioned bobblehead.
“You’ve got us?”
“Sure thing, hoss. Why don’t you and the little lady climb on board?”
“Is it fast, Lan Lan?” Priscilla tugged on Landry’s shirt as they stepped onto the train.
“Do you want it to be?” Landry loved the kid’s zest for life despite the pain she was in.
“Uh-huh.”
“Why’s that, little Priscilla?”
“So that we can get back to my mommies. I want to stop them from being so sad.”
If it were possible for a literal heart breaking, Landry’s would have shattered and fallen to the carriage floor. Priscilla’s childish desire to ease Lizbeth’s and Caitlin’s pain was desperately poignant, and Landry felt the liquid caress of tears threaten to fall from her eyes. “We’ll be as fast as we can, I promise.” Landry recalled the last promise she’d made to Jade on this train. With the expertise and help of her mom, she’d managed to keep it. She could only hope that her mom could go two-for-two in the civilian stakes.
* * *
“I’m scared, Lan Lan. I feel cold inside.”
Landry bit her lip and forced a smile. Don’t panic. She glanced at her mom and was relieved to see there was no hidden worry in her eyes. She leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to Priscilla’s forehead. “Everything’s going to be okay, little lady…I promise.” Her mom had fixed Jade, but Landry could only hope that she’d be able to rid Priscilla’s little body of whatever was attacking her. In both cases, Landry’s promise was more wish than belief.
Landry held Priscilla’s hand as she slipped under the light sedation, and her eyes finally closed.
“You should go, Pumpkin. Jenkin wants to talk to you about the Muniz mission.”
Landry nodded. Her mom had already told her that the board had authorized Landry to return to Chicago, but she hadn’t given her any details. It was Jenkin who wanted to share those with Landry.
She closed the door behind her and didn’t look back. She made her way to Jenkin’s office. There was no Kondo replacement at her door. Maybe she’d realized that having someone that close to her was more dangerous than having no one at all.
Landry knocked and was beckoned in. Jenkin motioned for her to sit. The basic visitor chairs had been replaced with far plusher seats. Jenkin came around her desk and sat beside Landry.
“There’s a lot of change going on around here.” There was no judgment in Landry’s words, despite her unease at Jenkin’s apparent openness. Pulsus changing meant Priscilla was allowed on the island. And she was about to broach a new change of bringing back an extractor recruit from Chicago in the form of Brooke Jackson. Change was necessary.
“I’m sorry about Delaney. I miscalculated. I was too caught up in making sure we didn’t lose you that I didn’t catch any hint of Delaney’s betrayal.”
Betrayal…for love. “Lose me? I thought you wanted me gone.”
“We’ve got a complicated relationship, Landry. There’s a lot of history and emotion…for both of us.”
Landry didn’t visually react to Jenkin’s use of her first name. The last time Jenkin had addressed her as Landry, not Donovan, was as a kid when she and her mom were traipsing across the country. Avoiding my father’s goons. “Since we�
�re starting with a heart-to-heart,” which I was not expecting, “I should thank you for looking after my mom—in both iterations of her life—and I should apologize for being an asshole to you for the past three years. Mom’s put me straight on a few things, things I didn’t really remember. Or maybe I was refusing to remember them, I don’t know.” Landry pushed up on the arms of her chair and shifted positions. She’d been prepared for mission talk and trying to persuade Jenkin into letting her bring Jackson back. She hadn’t expected…this. “Talking to my mom about the past, even though some of it I don’t feel like I really lived, kind of pulled back a curtain on my memories. You were around. A lot. You protected my mom when I couldn’t, and you made it your life’s work to go back to stop her murder. I can’t express how grateful I am to you for that.”
Jenkin sighed deeply, straightened in her chair, and coughed dramatically. “Well, this turned deep fast. I guess the therapy your mom and I are having is working.”
“I’m not sure I’m supposed to be part of it.” Landry smiled. Memories of good times, family times, with her mom and Jenkin had been bobbing to the surface of her consciousness like a cork float.
Jenkin shrugged. “Unfortunately for you, you kind of are. I’ve got to be more authentic and ‘acknowledge my feelings’ to people around me that I care about. It’s all very weird.”
“I’ll second that.”
“Still, before we talk about the Chicago mission, there’s some things I need to put on the table. And you can leave them there, if you want. Or take them away and process them yourself.” Jenkin leaned back in her chair and put her feet on the desk. “But either way, I’ve got to say them.”
Landry relaxed into the soft leather chair as a visual memory of her and Jenkin playing catch in a backyard somewhere gave a five-second appearance. “Go for it. I’ll try not to laugh.”
Jenkin laughed. “I don’t think you’ll succeed, but I’ll say it as fast as I can so we can put it aside and concentrate on work.” She closed her eyes. “I’ve always loved you like a daughter, but Elena puts you first and that sometimes hurts even though I completely understand that’s her instinct as your mother.” Jenkin took a breath, as if drawing in more courage before continuing. “I’m hard on you, because we used to be so close but after we brought your mom back, you pushed me away…and that hurt. I pushed you back, which was childish, but there you go.”
Jenkin didn’t speak for a moment, and Landry wondered if her confession was over. The detached, military part of her wanted it to be finished. Over-sharing wasn’t her playground. But she also needed to hear this. A big part of the life that Landry hadn’t really lived but had the memories of, included Jenkin. She’d been a guiding hand and an understanding ear when Landry and her mom had clashed, which was often. There was no pinpointing the exact time when they’d drifted, and in fact, Landry had no memory of that. But in the life she’d lived, with the military and then with Pulsus, she knew her dislike of Jenkin came from her relationship with her mom. She’d somehow managed to bury the conflicting version of her memories that had seen her share a good relationship with Jenkin. The effect time travel had on Landry’s memories versus her lived reality complicated everything.
“I got lost in building Pulsus. I lost sight of your mom, of you, and why I wanted to invent this tech in the first place. But I want to get back to that version of me. I hope you’ll let me try.” She opened her eyes and jumped up from her chair. “Great. That’s done with. No need to respond. Let’s talk about Muniz and Chicago.”
Landry opened her mouth to speak, but words abandoned her. She didn’t want to choke on the sentiment that was bubbling in her throat. Emotion equated weakness. That’s my father talking. Landry had let Jade into her heart. Was it time to let Jenkin back in, too? “We’ll both try.”
Jenkin stared at her for a moment, clearly taking in the weight of the three small words Landry had managed. She smiled, signaling they were enough.
“The board has decided Muniz is too important for us not to try again. They want you to go back, but I’m concerned about your potential lack of objectiv—”
“What about Delaney and Simson?”
“You’re to bring them both back. That’s why I’m concerned. Delaney betrayed your friendship. Simson committed unforgiveable crimes…if you had your druthers, what would you do?”
Landry rolled her neck and considered Jenkin’s question. “You want to know if I have homicidal intentions toward one or both of them?”
Jenkin nodded. “Nobody would blame you if you did.”
Let’s start with the easy one. “What Simson did to me is largely irrelevant, but I want to see justice for Perry. What will happen if I bring her back here?”
“There is no death penalty, Landry…not in any state.”
“I know that. That’s not what I’m asking. Perry had no family, other than his colleagues. Does that mean Simson doesn’t get punished for what she did to him?” Landry squeezed the arms of her chair as she recalled the mental image of Perry’s dead eyes looking back at her.
“A legal system is about the only thing we didn’t develop on this island, Landry, because we never anticipated needing one. We can’t punish Simson in any tangible way that she’ll learn from, or that any of us will get closure or satisfaction from. Her mind will be wiped to a time before Pulsus, and she’ll be left in a city—”
“To start again. Like nothing’s happened.”
“We’re back to the question, Landry. What would you do?”
She hadn’t actually given Simson much thought since she’d returned. Thoughts of Delaney and possible redemption swamped her nightly, but beyond her initial anger at Simson for killing Perry, she hadn’t considered what she’d do to her if given the chance. “I’d like to see her on trial in 2055. Direct the police to Perry’s body and the murder weapon. Gift wrap Simson and drop her on the doorstep of their precinct.”
Jenkin laughed. “That’s not a bad idea. Been thinking about it much?”
Landry shook her head. “Off the top of my head, actually.”
“So you know the board wouldn’t agree to it?”
“Why not? If she blabbed about time travel, they’d just lock her up for being crazy, wouldn’t they? She’s got no proof.”
“Maybe. But you know she has to come back here, to her time. The question I have to go back to is, when you’re faced with her, will you bring her back…alive?”
Landry closed her eyes and imagined being face-to-face with Simson, imagined having a gun in her hand and a decision to make like the one that ended with her killing Vogt in 1942. That was different. “You know I will.” An eye for an eye wasn’t part of Landry’s moral compass. She could only hope that Simson wouldn’t force the issue and give Landry an impossible choice. “I want them both back.” And Brooke. “But there’s something else I want.”
“Of course there is. Elena is trying to fix the little girl. What other civilians do you have in need of our intervention?”
“The FBI agent who…” rescued me, “released me to come home—”
“Brooke Jackson?”
“Yeah. We took away her life. The least we owe her is a new future.”
Jenkin’s brow crinkled, as she clearly tried to comprehend what Landry was getting at. “You’re going back to before she died. She won’t intercept Delaney, and she won’t die. I don’t understand.”
Landry sat forward in her chair. The prospect of bringing Jackson back to the future had taken root. She wanted a prodigy, someone to mentor and take over when she got too old or jaded. “That was her old future. When I was driving to collect the PRU, Jackson told me she was looking for a big adventure. She wanted something more from her life, something better. She had a vision to do things that mattered on a much larger scale than the FBI could ever influence.” Landry paused. If she was reading Jenkin correctly, her lack of understanding had dissipated and been replaced with a cautious suspicion. “She’d make a great extractor, I know it.”
Not sure how I know it, but I definitely feel it.
“You want to bring Jackson from 2055 to our time and train her as an extractor?”
“Absolutely.”
“Absolutely not.” Jenkin stood and walked to the window. “Everything is delicately balanced right now, Landry. The board is considering releasing some of our technology to the general public, for the good of the whole world. I’m not sure we can justify recruiting someone from the past.”
“Delaney was on your trail and mom’s. She’d probably figured out a new plan and was aiming to take over Pulsus in 2055. If she kidnapped you and mom, who knows what they could have done. I could’ve come back through the time circle into a hellish new future.”
Jenkin turned back to Landry. “But Delaney didn’t succeed.”
“Only because Jackson intercepted them. When I left her in Chicago, she could’ve just gone back to her HQ and spun a tale about her cover being blown. She could’ve easily recovered her career. But she didn’t. Instead, she must’ve gone back to the factory and trailed them to DC.” And then got blown to bits. Landry would have to teach her some serious survival techniques. Staying alive was pretty much a basic requirement of becoming an extractor. “I don’t know what happened in DC, maybe she made a heroic sacrifice. But she did save your life and your work. Pulsus might never have existed without her courage.”
Jenkin returned to her chair beside Landry and shook her head. “I see what you’re saying, I really do. We’re responsible for her death, in many ways, and we never set out to accept any level of collateral damage. I just don’t think the board will authorize it.”
