Stars Across Time (30 page)

Hatches clanged open, more men running out on deck. There was no time to search the fallen guards to see if either had a key to his ball-and-chain. He doubted either did, anyway. He grabbed a six-shooter out of one man’s holster, then hefted his ball to his waist and charged up the stairs as quickly as he could while toting the cumbersome weight.

The back of the bridge was clear glass, so Theron spotted the captain right away. The man had a radio headset to his mouth, while he gesticulated to the helmsman.

The captain had not secured the hatch, and Theron went into stealth mode, slowing down and creeping forward without making a sound. It wasn’t an easy task with the chain on the weight wanting to rattle. He eased the hatch open wide enough for him to slip through. The ball bumped against the jamb. The captain, barking into the radio and demanding the reason for the alarm, did not hear it, but the helmsman turned, reaching for a gun.

Theron shot him in the chest. He flew back, bumping a control lever with his shoulder. The ship surged forward as the captain spun around. Theron could have shot him, too, but his new
owner
was close enough that a more tempting punishment jumped to mind. Theron flung the ball, lifting his leg at the same time to extend its reach. It thudded into the captain’s groin with a few inches of chain to spare.

The captain howled and dropped to the ground. Not incapacitated, he reached for the helmsman’s gun—it had clattered to the deck. His retribution complete, Theron chose the more efficient way of taking out an enemy. He shot the captain in the head.

“No more marketplaces,” he growled.

As soon as he made sure the two men wouldn’t trouble him again, Theron dragged his leg iron to the helm. He hadn’t piloted anything larger than a fishing boat with oars, but the ship was already racing forward, the anchor dragging behind it. He found a lever that would bring up the anchor, then spun the wheel until the horizon before him changed from open water to the dark silhouette of an island. Since he had lost the DM-3, he would settle for the next best way of sinking a ship.

A soft clank came from behind him. Theron whirled around, pointing his gun at the hatchway. He jerked it away immediately.

Andie stood there, a rifle in one hand and a six-shooter in the other. She considered the bodies on the floor.

“Everyone seems to be rescuing themselves before I get to them,” she said. “It’s ruining my ambitions of being heroic and brave.”

Theron lowered his gun and started to walk toward her, but remembered his shackle. He held out his arms instead. “My ankle is still in need of rescuing if you’d like to heroically and bravely—and with precision accuracy—shoot the chain off.”

“And remove your one item of clothing?” Andie asked, rushing forward and hugging him. “What about your modesty?”

Theron wrapped his arms around her. “My ankle has never been overly modest.”

Though he kept his eyes toward the hatchway and the steps leading up to it, expecting someone to come up to check on why the ship was careening toward land, he kissed her cheek and held her for a moment.

“The women are out,” Andie said, her face pressed against his chest. “They should be lowering lifeboats any second.” She drew back and stood on tiptoes to peer over his shoulder. “Which is probably a good thing, given how fast that rocky cliff is coming up. Is that your doing?”

“Yes, I—”

A man’s head came into view on the steps. Theron fired, tearing his cap off and convincing him to scurry back down out of sight.

“I wasn’t sure if you were able to grab the DM-3 or would put it to use,” he said, leaving his arm up, certain more intruders would show up.

“It’s attached to a boiler below decks, and the timer is counting down. It’s just a thought, but we may want to get off the ship before it crashes. Or blows up. Neither sounds health-inducing.” Andie glanced through a window toward the port side of the ship. “Of course, our plane is probably bouncing around behind the ship right now. Or maybe that rope came undone.”

“We’ll take a lifeboat.”

Reluctantly, Theron released her. He could hear voices from the deck below the steps. As always seemed to be the case, there wasn’t time for the pleasant things in life, such as hugs and kisses. Perhaps the general would let Andie stay for a while before sending her back. He stroked her hair, his soul already aching at the notion of her disappearing from his life forever. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, resting her head against his hand.

A clang came from the bottom of the steps. Sighing, Theron lowered his hand.

“Watch the door, please,” he said. “I’m going to try to disable the controls so they can’t stop the ship from crashing.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“I thought I’d shoot randomly at things and hope for the best.”

“Then I should watch the door from outside of this room, eh?”

“That might be wisest.”

Andie kissed him on the cheek, then slipped back outside. She crouched down, where she could guard the way up, but where she herself would not be a target. Theron opted for shooting the chain off his leg iron, leaving only the shackle and a few metal links, and then hurled the heavy ball around, smashing it against levers and gauges. Glass shattered, and the control panel turned into a dented mess. The ship continued to chug forward, the cliffs Andie had mentioned looming tall now. Another couple of minutes and the bow would smash into them.

“Time to go,” Theron said, joining Andie at the same time as two men charged up the steps, carrying a piece of metal siding in front of them like a shield.

Andie shot them in the feet. The men yelped and flung themselves off the stairs.

“You’re quite a woman,” Theron remarked.

She winked at him.

“I don’t suppose you can fly a helicopter?” Theron pointed to the craft resting next to the open cargo doors. “The army doesn’t have one. The general might be inordinately pleased with the acquisition of one. Also, it would be a shame to let such a craft go down with the sinking ship.”

“I did fly a couple in training,” Andie said. “If things haven’t changed that much in the intervening centuries, I’m sure I can manage.”

Having already seen her handle the propeller plane easily, he squeezed her shoulder, certain she would manage. “Then let’s get going.”

He led the way, firing like a madman to clear the deck. There wasn’t much resistance. With Theron and Andie guarding the bridge, most of the crew had decided on lifeboats. Thanks to the cliffs looming closer and closer, some men were simply flinging themselves overboard. As Theron and Andie raced for the helicopter, he spotted a couple of lifeboats already in the water.

“Given the nudity of that crew,” he said, “I believe those might be our freed women.”

“Are you sure? There’s a
lot
of nudity happening around here.” Andie swatted him on the butt as they ran.

“Is it not so rampant in your century?”

“We have it, but it usually results in a person being arrested.”

They had to fight off a group of men and women who had also decided the helicopter might serve as a suitable escape craft, but with their blood still charged with adrenaline, Theron and Andie descended like rabid wolves, shooting and yelling, convincing their enemies that they were an indomitable force set on mowing them down. Or maybe it was Theron’s nudity that alarmed the group. Either way, the other contenders fled, and he and Andie made it into the craft.

“Hm,” Andie said, eyeing the controls.

“Hm?” Theron had an impressive view of those cliffs through the front of the helicopter. He doubted they had more than thirty seconds until impact.

“A little different than what I trained on.” Despite her words, she turned an ignition switch, and the blades started rotating,
whup-whups
sounding as they stirred the air.

A couple of men with rifles raced out of a hatchway. Theron leaned out of the helicopter, ready to fire if they looked like they would make trouble. One of them was waving a green-and-brown package.

“Uh oh,” Theron said. “Is that ours?”

Andie, focused on the controls, only shook her head. The helicopter’s skids bumped a couple of times, then rose above the deck of the ship. The man with the package had been racing for the railing, but he saw the craft leaving and paused. He glanced at it—at the timer counting down?—then hurled the DM-3 at the helicopter.

Theron, with his heart trying to leap out of his chest, fired at the same moment Andie swerved. With a thunderous roar, the bomb exploded in the air. The helicopter lurched, tilting sideways and almost dumping Theron out the door. He hung on as the world turned yellow and orange, the brilliant flames filling his vision. From the way the helicopter rocked, he was sure they had been hit. Then the craft turned, and the black cliffs reared up before them. Those rocks were so close that the blades almost scraped them. He gripped his seat, scarcely noticing that he had dropped his gun.

“We’re clear,” Andie said, sailing out of the small sun that had lit the sky above the ship.

It was a couple more moments before Theron felt safe. He twisted, searching the water below for the lifeboats. There they were. Well away from the ship, skimming toward the island. He hoped the army ships would be out to help everyone soon. He slumped back into his seat, finally believing they might be safe as the helicopter stopped swerving and hovered calmly over the water.

“I guess it’s a good thing that you planned that crash,” Andie said, glancing in a mirror. “That was our bomb, right? That someone found?”

“It did have a familiar look to it as it was hurtling toward my open door.”

“Since my seat is not far from your open door, I’m glad you’re a good shot.” Andie smiled over at him. Strands of her hair had fallen free around her face, and dirt smudged her cheek and her clothes, but there was an exhilarated glint to her eyes. And there was warmth in them, too, as she regarded him.

“I’ll pretend my aim is that good, and that hitting it wasn’t simply luck.”

“Better to be lucky than good. Do they have that saying here?”

“If not, we can revive it.” Theron reached over, patting her on the thigh. “I’m glad you were with me on this mission. And that we got your friends. I’m sure they’re ready to return to their—your—time.”

“Yeah.” Andie smiled again, though a hint of sadness crept into her eyes, some of the exhilaration dying away. Would she miss him? He would miss her. The thought of letting her go tore at his insides, and he looked away, toward the dark contours of the island.

Another explosion sounded behind them, the sky once again lighting up with the intensity of a noon sun.

“What happened?” Andie asked, her eyes round as she peered back over her shoulder.

Shards of metal flew from the ship. A few pieces pelted the helicopter, and she maneuvered farther away. An impressive hole had peeled open in the hull of the ship. Water was already pouring inside.

“The boiler may have blown up, anyway, thanks to the crash,” Theron said.

“Well, I’m glad I agonized so much over where to place the explosive and how many minutes to put on the timer.”

“We’ll just hope that it took out the time machine, and that nobody will be traveling back to bother people in your century again.”

“Yeah,” Andie repeated softly, not meeting his eyes.

A
ndie couldn’t remember a time in her life when the words “domestic bliss” had popped into her mind without accompanying sarcasm. Yet, as she sipped her second latte and leaned against the counter in the kitchen, smiling around the edges of her cup and watching Theron do dishes, the words seemed right. She just had to ensure she did not think about the fleeting nature of the situation, or sadness would replace the contentment.

“You’re sure you don’t want help?” she asked.

“No need. I so rarely have to clean up after myself anymore that it’s a novel experience. The general will send me back to the field soon, where I’ll have young soldiers to wash my dishes. Of course, I’ll have to eat the tasteless concoctions the kitchen squad comes up with, but these are the tradeoffs one accepts in the army.”

“Mm. Yes.” Andie remembered well her days of kitchen duty, an especially fun chore in the field. “Were you always an officer? Or were you enlisted first?”

“Enlisted?”

“Like a private. Or did you earn a degree and start out as a lieutenant?”

“Oh. No, everyone starts as a private here. You have to do something to stand out to get shifted over to the officer side, usually by surviving when a lot of other people get killed. At least if you’re a field soldier.” His mouth twisted.

“Ah. I’d assumed you had to have... do they still have college here? Universities?”

“Yes, a few, but they’re usually for people who want to study medicine, science, or law.”

“Law?” Andie asked. “You still have lawyers? That’s disappointing.”

“Yes, they’re similar to geoducks.”

She grinned, remembering her comment over their dinner at the restaurant. “Then you never had formal schooling? I wouldn’t have guessed that from a man who uses words like concupiscence.”

“You needn’t look so shocked. I
have
opened a book or two.”

“Any that aren’t related to astronomy?” She had perused his bookshelves. They were very science heavy, with a spattering of history books here and there.

“Ah, at least three, I should think.” He shot her a mock concerned look. “You’re not going to quiz me on them, are you?”

“Not me.” She smiled and took another sip.

“Is the coffee acceptable?” Theron’s expression shifted from mock to concern to true concern. He wanted so much for her to like his food—his
world
—that she could read it in his face. Since she couldn’t stay, she wasn’t sure why it mattered to him, but it touched her that it did.

“Yes, where did you get it?” Since lattes had apparently fallen out of style, Andie had instructed him on how one was made, then watched him experiment with using his teakettle to produce steam for foaming milk. Given that the milk had come out of an honest-to-goodness icebox, she felt her drink was the height of luxury here. She wouldn’t admit that it wasn’t quite up to the quality of the coffee shop on campus. Considering the wonderful things he had done for her in bed that morning, she could get used to a less elite coffee. Not that she would have a chance. She gazed sadly into the foam.