entirely different language. No doubt you could pick out a few words that resembled the English you are familiar with but the whole would essentially remain completely incomprehensible to you." A part of my mind was screaming 'what the hell are you doing you idiot,' while the other half was yelling 'I want to translate that disk.' Quite frankly I was beginning to scare myself.
"Look I'll get a translator later," she told me.
"You could, but I already know about the disk and I know all of the languages used in the document. So why can't I translate it for you?" I gave her my most winning smile.
"Now why would you want to do that?" She asked. 'Yeah why,' a part of my brain asked as well.
"Well I'll tell you," I said to both the woman and myself. "Part of it is that I love the challenge of translating a document like that. I love pitting my brain against it. But part of it is that this is the only way I know to repay you for the ticket to the museum. I owe you one." For a second she just stared at me. I smiled again.
"We put you in danger and you want to thank us?" she asked me.
"There was no danger, really," I told her. "And there was no other way I could have gone."
"You could have bought a ticket," she said. I looked at her. Every item of clothing on her probably had a designer name stitched on it. She wouldn't understand.
"No, I couldn't." I said simply, my smile fading from my lips. Again she stared at me.
"Look," she said. "I need to take that drive with me. I suppose I could take you with me and leave the translation decision up to them. After all," she continued. "If they don't want you to translate it they could always kill you."
"Of course," I agreed, smiling again. A part of my brain was demanding to know exactly what I thought I was doing. I told it that if the woman had wanted me dead she could have easily killed me and then taken the drive. Since I was still alive than she and whomever she worked for obviously didn't want me dead.
My fears thus somewhat quieted, I bounced away from the couch and into the bedroom, the woman a step behind. I pulled the drive from the USB port and switched off the computer. The computer was quickly stowed in the case with a few of my language dictionaries for reference. A few minutes later I was sitting in the passenger's seat of a jet black Mercedes and heading off into the great unknown.
Other Books By
Valerie Gaumont
The Channel Riders Series
Pilot (Book 1)
Storm Chaser (Book 2)
Alliance (Book 3)
Roses for Juliet
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