Just in Time: Portals of Time (10 page)

Her brow furrowed. “I miscalculated the angle of impact on that. I was off three degrees.”

Luke rolled his eyes. He glanced up to see Alisha and Jess studying the multi-mini or whatever the hell she called the healing device.

“Want to keep going? They look okay up there.”

But Dorian didn’t answer. Her eyes had widened and her jaw went slack. First, she ran her hands over her face. Then down her arms. She felt her armpits. But when she started at her thigh—they’d all worn shorts in the warm April night—and slid those fingers over her flank and knee, Luke almost swallowed his tongue. Was she trying to seduce him? “What are you doing?” he asked harshly.

Finally, she looked up. Raising her fingers, she slid them together. “I am leaking water and not from my eyes.”

“You’re sweating.” At her blank look, he said, “Perspiring from the exercise.”

“I know what it is,” she said, so damn serious he bit back any retort he might have made. “I’ve run out of inside but haven’t experienced more than a dampening of my skin.”

“You don’t sweat in the future? You said you’re in top physical shape. So, you must exercise.”

“On the exertrac and in jutzi classes. But our air is controlled and we don’t do this sweating thing.”

“Don’t you play sports?”

“We have no sports in our time. We don’t foster competition. It’s bad for people.” Then she looked up at him, her face alight, and very pretty. “But it feels very good to sweat.”

“Maybe there’s hope for you yet, doll.” And he couldn’t help but smile.

THINGS HAD SETTLED
down by the Sunday after the news broke about Alisha, Dorian and Celeste’s mission. Jess and Helen insisted they attend church services, and Dorian had gone along to watch over Jess. Celeste accompanied them because she wanted to experience a religious ritual.

To insure Jess’s safety, David, who was a combat chaplain in Afghanistan, had enlisted the help of two former Marines in his congregation, and stationed them at the doors, greeting members and checking for new faces. He’d told them he’d heard there might be some violence against his church. It rang true because not long ago the building had been hit by some vandalism.

Luke and Alisha had stayed back at Jess’s house to work on tracking down the threat that came in the emails from [email protected]. They still didn’t know if the sender was trying to stop Jess’s research by making vague threats, and meant no harm, or if his intentions were malevolent.

At the other end of the dining-room table, Alisha ran programs on her fancy computeller. Luke had asked a buddy in the Secret Service for help analyzing the threats. The agent had put their request through their threat-assessment computers, and her reply came back just after the others left for church.

“Luke,

The team’s computers have analyzed the emails your brother received. There’s a high probability that these are benign missives, meant to keep him safe, not to threaten him. Basically, there are two reasons why:

1.The wording is intentionally vague. Most hostile notes threaten directly.

2.The phraseology isn’t that of a psycho killer. Our best deduction is that this is from a female and she does not want to do him harm.

Don’t forget, babe, you owe me for this. Any trips to DC planned? I’m here. Waiting.

Lissie”

“Holy shit!” he said from where he worked at Jess’s desk.

Alisha swiveled around in her chair. “That is the craziest expletive.” She shook her head. “Tell me what news you received from your government.”

He printed off the email and handed her a copy.

She read it quickly. “This is interesting. I’m honing in on where the emails were sent from, and they do not appear to come from a corporation, which would make the most sense. I’ve narrowed the sender down to a region outside New York.”

“Region?”

“You call it a suburb.” Her dark brows knitted. “You would be more likely to find an amateur on the outer limits of a city, but I don’t understand why that would indicate a female.”

“I—”

She interrupted him. “Lissie is an odd name. And her use of
babe
for you is foreign to me. When said as slang from one person to another, it describes someone who is attractive.”

For a moment, he pictured Lissie’s toned body, red hair and blue eyes the last time he was in bed with her. “Babe is also a term of endearment.”

“We don’t have those in our time.”

“What do you call a…mate or lover?”

“By his or her first name. I don’t fully comprehend identifying him by anything else.”

Taking a bead on her, he realized she was attractive. Her hair was light brown and her eyes almost the exact same color. He mocked himself. He’d been too…absorbed in Dorian’s gorgeous body and the innate sexuality she emanated to notice the others as women. “It’s been a whirlwind of confusion for twelve days. I haven’t had time to find out much about your society, except that you live in Domes and have a problem with fertility. And the religion thing.”

“I will be glad to explain our social systems and government when we’re done here. But perhaps we can find the origin of these emails if we align our brains.”

“Excuse me?”

“Work to combine our opinions.”

He burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it if their misuse of sayings amused him. “Put our heads together, Alisha.”

Now her eyes sparked fire and turned almost amber. “Whatever.”

He slid his chair over next to hers and said, “Let’s see what kind of
region
we’re looking at.”

DORIAN SAT BESIDE
Jess, who was settled close to Helen. Celeste was at the end of the wooden seat called a pew. The whole church was foreign to Dorian, yet in some ways appealing. She bet Celeste was reveling in the scents of candles, the colorful windows, the strange musicals. Also, the warmth emanating from the attendees, called a congregation, reminded Dorian of the groups of friends she had back in her time.

The man they knew as David—a man of religion, a close friend to Helen and Jess and a very astute thinker—stood up at the pulpit, dressed in a black robe. Interestingly in her time, people called their speaker platforms pulps
,
which must be a derivative of this term. Off to his right was a woman dressed in a white robe. David had introduced her as his assistant pastor, Lee Ann, before the ceremony began.

“Good morning. Welcome to Community Christian Church.” David glanced toward the four of them. “Especially to those of you who’ve come from far away. Since today is Earth Day, we’ve organized our service around taking care of the world God has given to us.”

Dorian’s mouth fell open. Jess leaned over. “He didn’t plan this service because of you three. I know because I worked with him on the energy angles before you arrived.”

“Amazing.”

David continued, “First, I’d like June Ayers to come up and talk about the environmental fair we’re having after church.”

A young woman with bouncy, reddish hair, wearing a shirt that said, Be Kind to Your Mother
,
with the sphere that was representative of their planet, strode down the aisle. She told the group about displays in the fellowship hall that detailed what they could do to save energy and prevent pollution. Congregants could peruse each table during the coffee hour—a gathering time where they consumed caffeine—after the service.

Opening statements—they called them prayers—were led by David. Now, that was a concept Dorian could
not
internalize. Contacting their supreme being through thoughts helped the thinker? How odd.

Next, David sat on the red rug as the younglings approached. Dorian would never get used to seeing them. They were in all shapes and sizes, different in skin, hair and eye color, babbling loudly. Her heart ached for her society’s loss of them. And made her more determined to see hers and Celeste’s tasks through.

“How many of you know what recycling is?” David asked as the younglings gathered around him.

One raised a hand and blurted out, “The blue box.”

Dorian didn’t understand the laughter that followed. No one joked about the climate in her time.

Grinning, David said, “We put stuff in the blue box, but why do we do that?”

A little blond girl stood up. “To make it into something else.”

David spoke at length of recycling, letter writing to the city government to stop the carbon emissions that came out of their vehicles and why all that caused the polar ice caps to melt. After he finished, the assistant pastor led the entire group in singing “For the Beauty of the Earth.” Its words were meaningful, and Dorian wished like hellor they’d been heeded.

When the service ended, people began to leave the main part—the sanctuary—of the church. Celeste, pale and shaky, dropped back down on the pew. Dorian moved close to her.

“Are you all right?” she asked her friend.

“No.” She grabbed Dorian’s hand. Celeste’s was ice cold and trembling. “They
knew
, Dorian. They
knew
what they were doing to this planet. Why didn’t they stop while they could?”

“People like David
were
trying to stop it, Celi. They ran up against corporate greed.”

“Ironic. We have no use for individual currency or corporations in our time. What we value is what they’re squandering away.”

“You, Alisha and I are here to see if we can change that.”

“I’m even more committed to our mission now.”

“So am I.”

They exited the pew and reached the back of the church, where David greeted his congregants. It was then that Dorian noticed the Marines who had been guarding the door. Though they had no armed forces in her time, she understood that their job was to keep people safe, but instead, they had to fight in conflicts other people started. It made her simultaneously admire them and shake her head at this convoluted government.

One of the men walked close beside Jess. Suddenly, Dorian was flooded by fear. How much did David know about him? What if he was planning to harm Jess? Quickly, she sidled herself between the two of them.

The Marine frowned. “What’s the matter, lady?”

She raised her chin. Men did not intimidate women of her time. “I’ve something to discuss with my cousin,” she said in response and led Jess and Helen away.

“What’s that all about?” Jess asked. “We wanted to go to the coffee hour.”

“Precaution. The two Marines have not been vetted.” But she would get their names from David before they left and run a search on them.

Meanwhile, she was stickling like gluz to Jess.

“WE HAVE NEWS,”
Dorian announced when the four of them arrived at the Cromwells’ after church.

Luke noted that her cheeks were rosy and her eyes sparkled like emeralds. She was excited, which did nothing to calm his libido. Ever since they’d wrestled on the floor and he’d watched her play racquetball, he’d been having X-rated thoughts about her.

“We also have information.” This from Alisha, who crossed directly to Celeste. “Are you all right, Celi? You seem upset.”

“I became agitated in the church, but we can discuss why later. Dorian’s found a lead, I think they call it.”

Dorian held up her small computer. “I checked the background of two of David’s congregants that he, with all good intentions, asked to stand guard at the church doors. Rick Carson is in private security but he began his career in a contract with a local oil company. Petron.”

Alisha added, “Which would mean the threats could be coming from them.”

“Not necessarily.” This from Luke. “First off, thousands of people in New York have worked for Petron because their headquarters is in the city. But more so, my Secret Service friend says otherwise.” He filled them in on what Lissie had found. “After reading her notes from the threat assessment team, we’re pretty sure the emails came from a woman.”

Dorian cocked her head. “Perhaps. But I’m going to do some more shoveling.”

“Digging, Dorian,” Alisha corrected.

She shrugged. “What do you have?”

Again, Luke gave them the same rundown he’d provided Alisha. “And,” he finished “We’ve narrowed the IP address to a little town in Connecticut.”

“One of our regions,” Alisha explained. “It’s called Dunbar.”

“I’m trying to get a fix on exactly where in the town the emails came from by running my information through more police databases. We should have the answer in about an hour.”

“I’m going to put out some food,” Helen announced. “I invited David over for lunch and I’m starved.”

“You’re eating for two now, love.” Jess grinned. “I can’t wait for the doctor’s appointment this week.”

All three women—Luke was becoming partial to the Sisters of Doom tag—transferred their gaze to Helen’s stomach; each of their expressions revealed intense longing. For the first time, Luke felt bad for
them
.

“PASS THE MACARONI
salad.” This from Helen, who’d already heaped her plate with animal products and green vegetables.

Dorian’s senses had become accustomed to the smell of their food, and truthfully—especially after tasting the popped corn at the theater—she wanted to experience more of those exotic flavors and textures.

Luke shot her a grin. It was as if he could read her mind sometimes, which elevated the level of her anxiety. He lifted the bowl Helen passed to him. “Have a taste of the macaroni salad.”

“I want to, even though I had difficulty with the pasta my first night here.”

“You’ve had more time to acclimate,” Celeste put in. She’d taken a tiny amount of each dish.

“I don’t think you two eating all that”—Alisha gestured to the sustenance—“is a good idea.”

Surreptitiously, Dorian noted there was no food of this time on Lisha’s plate, though she’d taken some tea that had been iced.

Luke caught Dorian’s gaze and handed the salad directly to her. “Live a little,” he said, and as with almost anything, his tone was challenging.

She watched him. God, those eyes were so appealing. Dark and liquid looking.