Chapter Nine
Jordan shrugged on the loose shirt he’d fished off the edge of the bed, and began pacing the corridor outside the hotel room, his nimble mind racing through scenarios and possible solutions the way it had when he’d worked in Terron’s main Technology Centre. Unfortunately they all led to the same conclusion; take Anita to the Administration building, and accept his fate. Surely enduring the Ageing was better than being executed by those oil-tycoon thugs?
When he’d teased her about thwarted exes, never in his wildest imaginings would he have thought up something like this. But her crazy tale about time travelling here from the past… Jordan could only shake his head. That was as big a lie as her demure and innocent act. Heavens, the woman had behaved as though she’d never had a lover in her life, until he’d filled her up. Then the truth had come out. She knew men. She knew them well enough to spin him a tale of science fiction proportions.
Jordan growled to himself under his breath. Clearly he’d been too worked up from the mating to see the bloody obvious. That she’d played him for a fool. The Aging would only hurt him. Anita had just gone through the change so she wouldn’t feel much different when she returned to Earth. There was no way the likes of her would stay on Terron.
She had something else planned, other than thwarting that nasty-looking Rembrandt out of a wife. Were he Anita, he wouldn’t want to marry someone like him either, although from what Jordan had heard about Earth marriages, they could be in name only, simply to fulfill some kind of bargain or deal, and annulled just as easily.
Like hell she will, Jordan thought grimly. He had had enough of the Treaty and Earth milking Terron for all it was worth. He was sick of cultivating Hytana like a god-damned serf, fed up to his back teeth of seeing his fellow Terrons losing their jobs to the Humans so they could be out-posted on those damn farms.
Anita’s father’s declaration had given him an idea, and with purposeful strides he sought out Logan, whom he knew wasn’t leaving until tomorrow.
Jordan knew it was a long shot, and he was only one man, but he’d carried some pretty heavy influence back in the old days. And so had Logan. Now if only he could come up with some dirt on DeBurgh. Human businessmen were notorious for their underhanded schemes. But Jordan had more than one old friend still working in Administration. And the law was the law. Not even Earth could break that.
I sat on the lounge studying the tablet Jordan had dropped in irritation before stalking from the room. I thought of trying to find out more about Anita and her family, but as I studied her fiance’s sneering face, I kept thinking about my own life, wondering how time travel had been possible three hundred years ago but not now.
The picture on the tablet vanished, and in their place appeared an article titled; Time Travel – Still a Distant Dream.
“No it’s not,” I grumbled in irritation. I decided to alter my thought processes so that the damn device would co-operate. “All right, attempts at time travel,” I hissed at it.
Expecting to see rows of data, only one short entry appeared on the screen.
Professor Leon Jackson disappears after failed attempt at time travel causes major brain damage to volunteer subject, Ruth Clarke, sending her into a coma.
"What?" I had to reread the words again to confirm I'd read it correctly. "Major brain damage?" I shrieked. I felt sick to my stomach. "Major brain damage?!" My brain was perfectly fine, thank you very much! It was just anchored within someone else's body right now. I clasped trembling hands to my head as I struggled to read the rest of the article, but all I could think about was that awful line; major brain damage. I had suffered major brain damage.
Somehow I managed to read everything there was about me, unfortunately not much. In a subsequent report, they switched off my life support and allowed me to die on… I squeezed my eyes shut and shoved the tablet onto the floor with a clatter.
I couldn't read any more. I realized with a dreadful sinking feeling that I could never go back. There was no more me to go back to. Professor Jackson had killed me with his insane time machine experiment and then gone on the run.
But most tragic of all was there would have been no one to mourn me. My parents were gone, and I didn't have any real friends. Any other relatives would probably never even have known, and my old mountain house would have ended up in the government’s hands. Poor Ruth Clarke would have received a pauper’s funeral, with no-one at her grave site bar a state-appointed celebrant to send her on her final lonely journey.
I began to cry softly as I mourned for myself. I know it might seem crazy to some, since I was sitting there whole and healthy, but since I didn't know how long my loan of Anita DeBurgh would last, my brain could very well follow my body into death at any time. After watching movies like The Matrix, and the series Life on Mars, I began to wonder I was really dreaming all this in the last minutes before they pulled the plug on me.
Suddenly the intercom beeped, jerking me from my maudlin thoughts. I pressed the door release and jumped to my feet to welcome Jordan back with my news.
However, when the door to the hotel suite slid open, it wasn't Jordan standing there, but at least half a dozen uniformed men bristling with weapons. I took a step back, wondering what on earth these cranky-looking soldiers wanted with me. Two were Terrons, but the rest were definitely Human, and I'd never seen any of them before in my life.
"Anita DeBurgh, we've come to escort you back home," the leading Human male declared. He appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties with receding brown hair. Brown eyes, and brown military fatigues competed the image of a non-descript, forgettable male, probably the look he was aiming for. "Obviously you didn't get your waiver in time," he added in a cynical tone.
"Waiver?" I parroted, continuing to step back as they advanced towards me.
Even though none of the Human men raised their weapons, they kept their hands on various rifle butts and holsters. Only the Terron men stood guard with their sleek, silver blasters at the ready. I doubted even Jordan, who claimed to have bested this many men in single-handed combat, would want to mess with these guys. And neither did I. I desperately glanced round, checking if I could escape into the bedroom and lock the door before they caught me.
"We can do this peacefully or we can use force." Mr Brown continued to advance on me. "Which will it be?"
Two of the men stepped around the lounges to block my escape into the bedroom. So much for that idea, I thought grimly. "I guess it will be peacefully," I said at last. Where the hell was Jordan when I needed him?
"All right, grab her gear and let's get going," Mr Brown commanded.
One of the pair who had gone around the back of me disappeared into the bedroom to do his bidding. Since I had hung my clothes in the wardrobe and laid out all my cosmetics and toiletries, I knew it would take him a few minutes.
"Actually, I could do with some shoes." I glanced down at my bare feet.
The other man followed the first and returned a moment later holding a pair of my embroidered slippers in one hand as though they were contaminated. I snatched them from his fingers and dropped them onto the ground where I stepped into them.
Come back, Jordan, I willed desperately inside my head. Despite our recent argument, I felt much safer with him. I really didn’t like the idea of being dragged back to Earth to marry that sleazy Rembrandt. I almost wished we hadn't looked into Anita's history. If I'd thought the Treaty was bad, what they had planned for Anita was definitely worse. Since I now knew Jordan to be a good and decent man, I preferred to take my chances with him. I doubted Rembrandt junior had a tender bone in his body.
It didn't take the soldiers long to bustle me from the suite, with one man pulling my suitcase along behind him. Once we were in the corridor, I glanced around, hoping against hope to catch sight of Jordan, but the place appeared to be deserted. Had these military thugs ordered an evacuation?
I knew the insulation in this place was excellent; neither of us had heard a thing from any
of the adjoining rooms. I doubted yelling for help would do me any good, but I couldn't help sobbing Jordan's name as Mr Brown jerked me towards the elevator.
Anita. Is that you?
It sounded very much like Jordan was talking to me via a set of stereo headphones. His voice inside my head had sounded out as clear as a bell.
"Yes, where are you?" I murmured out loud.
"Will you keep quiet?" Mr Brown growled at me.
I'm still with Logan… I don't believe this. We're mind-linking! I heard him as clearly as though I was listening to him through my I-pod headphones. I've heard of this happening between deeply-linked Terron couples, but never between Terrons and Earthlings.
Jordan, I thought loudly and clearly, trying not to use my mouth. I hoped this mind-linking, telepathy thing was a two-way process.
Yes, I'm here, Anita.
Then get yourself over here. Five men are taking me back to Earth. We're at the lift… It's here. They're making me get inside. They've got guns, Jordan, I warned him as Mr Brown shoved me in ahead of him. Big ones.
They won't use them to kill, merely stun, but I don’t think these guys you’ve described are the sort who play fair.
Are you going to save me or not, Jordan, I thought fearfully as the lift started its descent.
Jordan would have whooped for joy had he not been so worried about Anita. The ability to mind-link with one's mate was so rare and unique, he doubted Earthlings had any idea it was something Terrons could actually do. He had to ensure Anita kept it that way. He knew he couldn't let them take her from the planet unless he was with her. Better still he'd do as she'd asked; he would rescue her. The fear in her telepathic message had been palpable. She didn't want to return to Earth any more than he wanted her to.
These Rembrandts were bad news, and Jordan was going to get to the bottom of whatever they were up to. Blackmail came to mind. Why else would Anita's father have decided to marry her off to the son? And if it involved Hytana oil, it meant trouble for Terron.
One of the reasons Jordan had been dismissed from his position in the Administration was because of his ability to think like an Earthling. Because Human men weren't bound by the mating call, they were free to think only of themselves. They didn't have to consider their partner, and from what Jordan had heard, some females on Earth were not treated well at all. Then it stood to reason that they were in no hurry to return once they were mated to their Terron males. Pity so few of them ever relayed the news back to their families on Earth, instead allowing suspicion and prejudice to proliferate.
After his discussion with Logan, they agreed to rally several of their old colleagues who still worked for the Administration. Even though it was the middle of the night, Logan was already working hard making connections and calling in favors. Now Jordan just had to get some of his own buddies together with even bigger guns. That would prove an even harder challenge.
Jordan realized that he would have to leave his old friend behind, because Logan was no longer agile enough for any extended physical activity. Still Jordan hesitated at the door.
"Go, get on with it," Logan urged. "I'll be of more use here rallying the troops. Go get your woman and leave me to do the rest."
Jordan sighed. "Thank you. Take care."
"I should be the one saying that, but knowing you, you'll risk life and limb… but please try to come back in one piece."
"I'll do my best," Jordan said grimly, knowing things could get very ugly indeed, particularly since he didn't have a plan, other than to follow Anita and try to rescue her. His last glimpse of Logan was of his grey head bent over his com-link. He was already hard at work on his side of the rescue mission. Now Jordan just had to get on with his.