Space Wrangler (7 page)

Sensie was quiet for a few seconds before telling her, “There is no appreciable likelihood that your brother survived. And so I am unable to fashion a response, other than to point out the obvious: there is no such thing as a parallel universe.”

“Pardon?”

“By definition, the universe encompasses all. At most, there may be parallel planes within our universe.”

“Parallel planes?” Alexia exhaled sharply. “Okay, I see what you mean. So? Is it possible that the sinkhole is actually a portal between two or more planes?”

“No.”

She wanted to ask why, but could see Rick was getting impatient. Plus, a parallel universe—or “plane”—was the scariest of all theories to her, so she just nodded and moved on. “Okay, so it's a rip in the fabric of space, just like Dad thought. A shortcut from
our
solar system to Destry's. But isn't it possible it's a shortcut to other places as well? And Trent ended up in one of those places?”

“I do not believe so,” Sensie said flatly. “But even if it were, the odds of it leading to a habitable environment are prohibitive. We were fortunate Destry could support life with some modifications.”

“That's only true if the sinkhole is a naturally occurring phenomenon, right? But if the Destroyers or some other civilization created the rip—”

“The rip is a natural phenomenon,” Sensie assured her. “And we have no reason to believe the Destroyers even knew about it.”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “They were advanced enough to turn blutanium into bio-metal, but didn't find the sinkhole? That doesn't make sense.”

Rick joined the debate. “The sinkhole is positioned in a different quadrant of their solar system than it was for us, Alexia. Your dad's discovery was a fluke—” He flushed and added quickly, “I don't mean that as an insult. But if he hadn't been beaming information from the Venus project to Earth, he wouldn't have noticed how bits of data were disappearing. So he never would have brainstormed an answer to where the data was disappearing to.”

Alexia had heard this argument before, and knew it was probably correct, but still, the rampant negativity always amazed her. Didn't these people
want
to find a solution? If not to find the survivors, then at least to advance science by better understanding the sinkhole?

“Fine,” she told him quietly. “Let's move on. What if there's another sinkhole? Or lots of them? And some of them cross paths—”

“It is the same problem, Alexia,” Sensie warned. “Natural phenomena are random, and the odds that they would
all
lead to habitable solar systems is statistically infeasible.”

“Do you admit at least that the Destroyers might have used a second sinkhole to get away from Destry?”

Rick chimed in again. “They didn't need one. They were so brilliant—not just a few of them, but all of them—they could build spaceships that could travel through the galaxy.
We
needed sinkholes because your family—Roberto and Trent—pushed us beyond our historical limits. Your family bootstrapped us into the future. But the Destroyers—”

“Okay, okay. Let's move on,” she repeated. “What about time travel? Isn't it possible Trent and the others are in the same
place
as us? Destry or Earth? But not at the same time?”

“Time travel is not possible, Alexia,” Sensie insisted. “So no. Your brother is neither in the past nor the future.”

Alexia didn't like being dismissed this way, and while it happened all the time, she decided to take a stand. “We refer to the sinkhole as a rip in space. But it's really a rip in space
and
time, right?”

When the computer made a snorting sound, Alexia glared at Rick. “What was
that
? And why won't anyone take me seriously? Astrophysicists talk about space-time, but whenever
I
do it, they treat me like an ignorant slut.”

“I don't know,” he said, his expression wary.

“It is because she
is
ignorant,” Sensie told him hotly. “And she is also a—”

“Sensie!” he warned.

“She asked the question,” the computer reminded him.

Alexia patted his cheek. “Please let her talk. And trust me, she's in good company. TJ called me a slut last night too.”

“
What?
”

“Apparently he's been having me followed for years. Or rather, his father has. So they know about my exploits. Like I told you, I sleep with geeks. It's not pretty, but it's what I do.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Have you heard of George Rendem-Sayers?”

“The physicist? Sure.” He winced. “Isn't he a little old for you?”

“Age wasn't an issue. He has a reputation as a snob, but supposedly he's the best in his field. So I went to an awards ceremony where he was being honored, and I asked him to help me find Trent. He made it clear what he wanted in return, so we piled into his limo and he slobbered all over me while we drove to his hotel. After he had his fun—complete with premature ejaculation, thank God—he basically called me an idiot who was wasting everyone's time looking for someone who disintegrated years ago.”

“Fuck.”

She nodded. “My other lovers were sweet compared to him.”

“Alexia?” Sensie interrupted. “I was not going to call you an ignorant slut. Just an ignorant dilettante.”

Alexia turned to Rick. “Is it me, or does that sound even worse?”

“It does, actually,” he agreed with a half-hearted grin.

“Anyway…” She paused for a long sigh. “I have one last scenario, Sensie. If it's not time travel, then what about time suspension?”

Rick interrupted to ask, “What does that even mean?”

“Like I said, the sinkhole is a rip in time as well as space. So Trent could be temporally suspended in the rip—alive and well. The same way
I
was suspended for seven seconds, but it felt like an instant because—well, because time didn't exist for me during that interval.”

“Seven seconds?” he murmured. “That's a lot. Can you imagine the uproar on Earth if Sea-Mont had lost you? The last remaining Montoya?”

“My Montoya eggs are perfectly safe,” she told him coolly. “So no worries.”

She knew he wasn't trying to offend, and maybe he even valued her in her own right. But she had encountered this attitude before, as though she were keeper of the flame and fertile enough to reenergize the lineage.

Still, Rick was trying to help, so she asked him more gently, “What about you? Have your transits always been instantaneous?”

“I've done it five times, so there's a range. My shortest was three seconds. My longest was fifteen.”

Alexia gasped. “Just three short of the cutoff! That's amazing. And it means you should understand this theory more than anyone. Where
were
you for those fifteen seconds?
When
were you? Or realistically, weren't you suspended in time
and
space?”

Rick grimaced. “Sensie?”

“She is incorrect,” the computer assured him. “There is enough oxygen in the capsule for two weeks, so fifteen seconds is negligible. But Trent has been missing for five years. Even if he
is
in a state of temporal suspension, his body is no longer alive.”

Alexia grinned, noting that Rick was stymied, and even Sensie seemed flustered.

It was time for the kill.

“But where
was
Captain Gage? He was missing for fifteen seconds, but to him it was an instant. Explain
that
.”

Sensie's voice turned flat again. “Your brother is not alive. There was not enough oxygen to sustain him beyond two weeks.”

“Why does he need oxygen? If time is suspended, then everything is.”

Rick rubbed his eyes. “Sensie?”

“It is highly unlikely.”

“But theoretically possible?” Alexia gave the monitor an adoring smile. “I
knew
I loved you. The only rational explanation is that he got stuck in the sinkhole longer than Rick did—by at least four seconds—and we need to
un
-stick him. Or wait until he un-sticks himself, but personally, I can't wait that long. And I'm shocked anyone on Earth can, considering how valuable it would be to get him back.”

“
Everyone
wants him back,” Rick agreed. Then he stood up, towering over her. “I thought we were going to Destry. Or do you want to find another pilot, because trust me, I'm outta here tomorrow, one way or the other.”

She smiled at the show of bravado, then stood to face him. “I'm yours to command, Captain.”

“Then let's get moving. You'll find a decon suit and some boots in the shower room. I tried to approximate your size, but make it work. Take your civvies off—every stitch including your undergarments and your pulse band—and stow them in the locker.”

“Oh! That reminds me. My armed escort gave me this new pulse band, since I left my old one on Earth so I wouldn't be tracked.” She smiled sweetly. “And good news, it has a panic feature so I can summon TJ if any storm troopers try to arrest me. But I can't get the display to work.” She held out her wrist, then demonstrated how she had pushed the band above her pulse with her forefinger. “Nothing. Any ideas?”

“It's old school.” He moved her thumb to the back of her wrist. “Try pressing both spots at the same time.”

She did, and a two-dimensional display opened before their eyes, presenting a menu that included eight items: news alerts, calendar, reminders, messages, position coordinates, pulse, oxy sat, and panic alarm.

“Primitive,” Rick said with a laugh. “But like I said, you need to take it off anyway. Sensie can monitor your vitals while you're on board.”

Alexia didn't need any more urging. The Titans were waiting for her, weren't they? After five long years, they were about to meet their second Montoya.

“One more thing,” Rick said, stepping closer. “I'd appreciate if you kept Sensie's status a secret.”

She nodded, conscious of his nearness—his
hot
ness—and even more aware of his message. “I won't say a word. David would try to take her from you, and so would every criminal in the world.”

“Thanks. And I meant what I said last night. You're welcome to use her to search for your brother. As you've seen, she's amazing.”

“She's an effing prototype,” Alexia agreed. “But she doesn't have the kind of data—from NASA and countless other sources—that Three and Four have. Especially now that I know about the data from the infodroids. But still…” Her head began to swim. “If TJ doesn't come through for me, I might take you up on your offer.”

“I'm sure he'll come through for you.”

“Me too,” she said, although doubts nagged at her. He had abandoned her once before, hadn't he? Stood by while his best friend was declared dead. And since that time, he had grown even colder. Meaner.

More like his father. Or at least, so afraid of David Seaton that he allowed the monster to define him.

Rick's voice invaded her fears. “Are you okay?”

She looked into his dark-green eyes and as she did so, her body reenergized. “You're unbelievably gorgeous. Did you know that?”

“Cut it out.”

“Do you still want me to get naked in the shower room?”

He grinned. “Yeah, and hurry it up. The sooner we get this lame-assed trip over with, the sooner Sensie and me can get back on schedule.”

The trouble with biohazard suits, Rick decided as he buckled Alexia into her anti-compression tube, was that the fabric was extremely thin. So thin he could see the outline of her nipples. It was like some gigantic cosmic test of his willpower, and he was failing completely.

It had been easier when she was sitting across the table from him and wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Not that he hadn't been attracted to her, but somehow, the science talk and the inclusion of Sensie, not to mention the physical distance, had made it seem more like a first date in a coffee shop. Not much at stake, just a chance to get acquainted.

This felt like a first date too, but later in the evening, back at his place—

Except you don't do that anymore
, he reminded himself. And for good measure, he took a few seconds to remember
why
he had given up that sort of social interaction. He wasn't ready for co-dependent bonds or meaningful relationships. Maybe someday, but for now, and years to come, he was better off alone.

Finally he got it together and said briskly, “Sensie will supply you with oxygen laced with a sedative. You're okay with that, right?”

“Not my first rodeo,” she reminded him.

“God, you're obnoxious.” Checking her restraints one last time, he touched a button on the instrument panel to close the clear shell around her. Ignoring her playful smile, he touched a second button, and the capsule tilted until it was horizontal.

Once its position was locked, he strode into the shower room, donned his own decon suit, and re-entered the control room to install himself in the larger of the two ACTs. As the shield closed over him, he asked Sensie, “How's she doing?”

“She is asleep,” the computer reported. “I used the correct amount of sedative for her weight, but apparently, she is overly sensitive.”

“Keep that in mind,” he drawled. “I still can't believe you insulted her the way you did.”

“It was an observation, not an insult. She is short compared to her mother and brother. She is also promiscuous, as she herself admits. It is a disappointment.”

“Is this some sort of cyber jealousy?”

“Why would I be jealous of a female who is short and promiscuous? That is not logical, Captain.”

“Just knock me out, would you? And don't talk to Alexia unless she specifically addresses you. Understood?”