Just in Time: Portals of Time (5 page)

Luke’s eyes narrowed on his brother. “You told me you deleted them.”

“I did. Dorian recovered them.”

“How?”

“I have skill in computers.”

“Did you have outside help?”

“I can’t say.”

“You’re going to have to say, if I’m to go through official channels.”

“I’m capable of conducting this investigation on my own. You can recuse yourself.”

“Recuse?”

Her green eyes widened. “Recuse means to absent yourself from a case because you have a personal stake in it.”

“I know what recuse means. It usually applies to judges.”

“Isn’t it correct in this instance?”

Jess sat back and smiled. “She’s got you there, brother.”

“This isn’t funny, Jess. And it’s not a pissing contest between Ms. Masters and me. We’re trying to save your sorry ass.”

“There are sparks flying between you and her, and you’ve only known her a couple of days. It’s amusing.”

She said, “If I’ve offended you, Lieutenant, it’s been unintentional. I’ve given you all the information we have. Either you or I can follow this…lead.”

“Fine. I apologize. Maybe I am too involved, because we’re talking about Jess. But I’m not turning this investigation over to anyone.”

“Then I’ll assist.”

“Give me a few days to check out the emails.”

From inside a bag she pulled out more papers. “I’ve begun to investigate the local oil companies. These are the personnel files for the workers for a group located in Manhattan named Petron. I haven’t had a chance to review them in all the excitement of…moving.”

“How the hell did you get something like
this?”

She just arched a brow.

Jess said, “I hate to break this up, but I have work to do, and Dorian has to come with me.”

“I’ll be in touch by the end of the day.” Luke stood. “Will you be at the office?”

“Yep. Me and my trusty assistant.” He smiled affectionately at Dorian.

As they left, Luke wondered if Jess was already attracted to Dorian. He had a bad feeling about that, too.

ON THE DRIVE
to the office, Dorian sat beside Jess in Helen’s Prius, one of the time period’s attempts to produce pollution-less vehicles. Jess thought the ride might make her less motion sick in this model. Suddenly, something darted in front of them and Dorian yelped. “What was that?”

Jess laughed. “A squirrel.”

“A squirrel? Oh, a squirla.”

“A what?”

“We don’t have animals, Jess. Just reproductions. In a museum called Zoolawn where we can view them. They move and roar or chirp, but they’re animated. I guess the names were corrupted after animals became extinct.”

“That’s sad.”

A lot of things were sad in the future. She rubbed her arm. Her skin felt scratchy. Probably because of the foreign material—cotton—covering it and because she hadn’t partaken of the shower ritual common today. These people actually stood in water to cleanse themselves. Besides the incredible waste of such precious commodity, that kind of primitive hygiene was so…incomplete. Their Repurification Chamber, which rid their bodies, hair and clothing of dirt, was much more efficient. They’d brought along a small handheld one to use for quick cleanups, but she’d have to succumb to the shower eventually.

“You okay?” Jess asked as they drove.

“Yes. I was thinking about all you have here that we don’t. And I’m sad about leaving Alisha and Celeste. We have contact almost every revolution in our time.”

“You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on with them when you all go to Virginia?”

“The people who sent us made us vow not to reveal our tasks to anyone. We had no choice but to let you know, and your family, if necessary, but this next task must be done covertly.”

Dorian hoped Celeste would be able to find a way into Dr. Alex Lansing’s life. Dorian had had it fairly easy with Jess. Except for his brother’s suspicions.

She pictured Luke Cromwell—his shoulders, which stretched a shirt the color of the sky, hair a little mussed and a nick from shaving—the barbaric way men removed facial hair in this time.

Looking at him made her feel strange. It…stirred her, particularly his scent. Whenever she got a whiff of it, she felt her body tighten. If she was in her time, she would have asked for him on the SexLine. She imagined he was skilled at reciprocal release, and even now, she felt a shiver go through her at the thought of joining with him.

Sighing, she considered the lack of a SexLine in this time period. It was quick, easy and efficient; she wondered how people managed without it. When they reached the office, she accompanied Jess inside and searched the place to insure his safety. Then she sat on one of the rigid couches. She missed the conformers, too. “Jess, may I ask you a personal question?”

He smiled as he crossed to his desk. “Shoot.”

She frowned.

“It means, go ahead.”

“I was wondering about people like your brother. He has no mate, correct?”

“He did. They got divorced when she cheated on him.”

“Cheated?”

“She took another sexual partner.”

“And your society values monogamy?”

“Yeah, we do. Yours doesn’t?”

“No. Our sexual practice is to register in the geographical community database called the SexLine. When we have the need for release, we program our identity into the computeller, and it connects us with a male or female, depending on our preference, who has the same need at the same time to arrange a session. Of course, if we want to choose a specific person, we can. But typically, anyone will do.”

He’d tipped his chair back to listen and almost fell over when she finished. “Honest to God?”

“Clarify, please.”

“That’s really the custom in your time?”

“It’s very efficient.”

“I think it’s awful.”

“Why?”

“Because sex between people who love each other is wonderful.”

“SexLine joining is satisfying and meets our needs.”

“Emotionally?”

“There are no emotions involved with joining. I’m told same-sex joining is different for females, but I’ve never experienced it.”

“So, you accept same-sex couples in your society?”

Why would he ask that? “Of course.”

“I’m glad.”

“Oh, Jess, you don’t now, in this time period?”

“Not wholly, but we’re making progress.”

She shook her head. This had not come up on the chips. She’d been mistaken to think that society was always open-minded about all sexuality.

“So, what do you want to know about Luke?”

“Your brother and those without mates? How do they find partners to share this physical and emotional involvement?”

“It’s called dating.” He explained the process to her.

“Dating sounds inefficient and random. I imagine your people experience a lot of sexual frustration.”

“Yes, Dorian, they do.”

“Thanks for explaining.”

He looked at the computer. “I have to get to work. What will you do?”

She pulled out her computeller. “I’m going to try to find who’s sending your emails.”

“So you didn’t just come to protect me?”

“That’s my primary job. But the office is secure, so I can do both.”

“Knock your socks off,” he said, then caught her look. “Never mind.”

Dorian opened the computeller and saw that Alisha had tried to contact her. Stepping out into the corridor so as not to bother Jess while he worked, she pushed the communication button. Alisha’s recorded message came on video and audio.

“I’m keeping you apprised of our plans. We’ve been doing research on Dr. Lansing and his younglings. And his work. He’s nearing some kind of breakthrough, just like Jess Cromwell.”

Celeste appeared behind her. “I’m trying new things.” She gave Dorian a conspiratorial look and angled her head at Alisha, as if she was going to say something she knew would irritate her friend. Though she was a sensitive, she had an admirable ability to jest. “Now I’m going to take a bath where you immerse yourself in real water for a length of time.”

Dorian’s colleagues looked cute in their new clothes. Celeste wore a pink blouse, which complimented the sweet blush on her face, and white pants. Alisha had chosen denim trousers and a red shirt. They all looked so different out of their tunics. A lot of things were strange here…food, clothing, methods of hygiene. Thinking of Luke Cromwell, she added sex to the list. Then she pushed him out of her mind and listened to Alisha’s report.

CELESTE GRINNED BROADLY
as she stepped into the bathtub for the first time. Both she and Alisha had used the shower since they’d been here, and though it cleansed them well enough, she was excited about being surrounded by water.

She sank into the warm tub, which was called a Jacuzzi and had jets shooting out the liquid that was so precious in her time. “Ahhh.” Her muscles immediately relaxed, and her pulse slowed. Picking up the bubbles—soap residue that had poofed when she added water—she playfully blew on them, and they scattered. Celeste giggled like the younglings on the video box called a television.

“What’s all that?” Alisha entered the bathing space and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, which was an archaic ancestor to the waste receptacles in their time.

“It’s called bubble bath, a gift provided by the host. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Looks scratchy to me. Like the chunks of cleanser in the shower.”

“No. It’s soothing. I
love
water.”

“You
love
too much about this time.”

Celeste sighed. “Just because I became nauseous after eating that thing called a burrito, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try their sustenance.”

“I told you to stick to the supplements we brought. There are enough for a long time for all of us.”

She wrinkled her nose. “They have no taste.”

“And what you ingested will clog your arteries, raise your blood pressure and make you fat.”

“But it was delicious.”

Alisha raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, Nord, keep her away from the sweets.”

“Sweets?”

“Never mind. You’ll find out soon enough.” She held up the computeller. “I’ve been perusing the data on Dr. Lansing.”

Despite the soothing water, Celeste’s heartbeat escalated. “What did you find out?”

“He requires youngling care. They call it babysitting.”

“His younglings are not babies. Three is the cut-off point for that term. The Lansings are five, eleven and seventeen.”

“It’s just another term these people misuse. Anyway, Dr. Lansing has a keeper of his house during the day and a young adult after school for the younglings.”

“I wish I could take care of them.”

“That’s what I thought. I’m pondering whether there’s a way for you to obtain one of these jobs.” She smiled. “Since you can practically read people’s minds, it shouldn’t be too hard to infiltrate your way into their lives.”

Celeste blew on more suds.

“But as I said before, we must concentrate on Jess’s safety now.”

Knowing that Alisha was right, Celeste changed the subject. “How is Dorian faring, do you think? She’s always so matter-of-fact.”

“She’s well, except for her concerns about Lucas Cromwell.”

“He’s appealing to look at, isn’t he?”

“Why would you say that? He has excess body fat, his skin is wrinkled, and he is arrogant.”

“I don’t know. I just think he is. Alex Lansing is handsome, too. His hair is lighter than any people of our time, and the younglings’ even more so.” She touched her own dark locks.

Alisha chuckled at something.

“What?” Celeste asked.

“Alex Lansing resembles a performer in one of those video boxes you love. I’ve studied the time period’s speculative fiction, and one of the most interesting was called
Star Trek
. The story takes place in the future, and their predictions were accurate on many issues.”

“Like what?”

Alisha took a bead on her. “Never mind. It will just give you ideas.”

She raised her chin. “Perhaps I’ll call it up on my computeller. I bet I’ll
love
that video.”

“For all our sakes, I hope Alex Lansing’s not something else you just
love
.” Alisha stood. “Don’t stay in there too long.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

After Alisha left, Celeste slid down and put her head under the water, enjoying the sensation of submersion. She visualized the chips containing the likeness of Alex Lansing. She couldn’t wait to meet him. Meanwhile, she’d have to settle for watching this
Star Trek
show
.

“MY LOVE IS
yours,” Dorian told Alisha and Celeste just before she disconnected on one of their daily calls. She hated speaking with her friends and not seeing them, but they couldn’t risk someone other than Jess catching sight of the computeller. So Alisha had contacted her with their newly purchased—though barbaric—cell phones.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Luke Cromwell stroll down the hallway to his brother’s kitchen. This was why she used the device common to today: the man always seemed to be showing up without warning and…he hovered. He poured some coffee and leaned against the counter, unabashedly watching her. His arrogant posture made him attractive, something Dorian didn’t understand.

“What does
my love is yours
mean?” he asked, his gaze intent.

“Eavesdropping, Lieutenant?”

“Yep.”

“I was speaking with my sisters. Saying I care for them.”

“Another oddity in your syntax.”

“My don—parents taught us the phrase. They wanted something special among the four of us.”

“Where do they live?”

“They are deceased. My sisters live in New York now. But, as I told you before, we came from Virginia.”

“Which is right outside of Washington.” He said the words sarcastically, and again Dorian didn’t know why. So she nodded at her notes on the low table in front of the seating conformer—a couch. “Are you ready to talk about the emails?”

“Yeah. Where’s Jess?”

“He’s on a walking with Helen.” She smiled. “He’s enjoying a day off.”