And then someone came running out of the hallway that led to Dispatch and shouted about a Return.

  It took a second, no more, and then I was running toward the hangar because a Return meant Jack. And Dean was behind me because Sally, my broken, heartsick friend, wouldn’t leave me. Like Carrie wouldn’t leave me when I was about to drown.

  Somehow Sally following behind made me want to burst into tears.

  But we stumbled out into the hangar, none of us uttering a word; Dr Holt rushed in behind us with several Tech and Security guys, some of which were still dressed in their Sunday best. There wasn’t time to check on Sally. There wasn’t time to debate who was Returning and what it could possibly mean.

  There wasn’t time.

  Because an Orion winked back into sight.

  Orion 6b. I was getting good at telling them apart. Jack’s Orion.

  I let out a half-sigh/half-sob kind of sound, relief coursing through me. He was back. They were back. Three fewer people lost to Time’s muck-ups. It wasn’t everyone we’d lost, but it was some of them, and despite the tears I could see threatening Sally’s eyes, she was smiling and I was smiling and everyone was smiling,; anticipating a reunion; one we desperately needed right then.

  But then Simon Cathcart opened the hatch, and it wasn’t Jack who peered out.

  That’s OK, I told myself as Malcolm stepped down and Harding followed him. He’s in there.

  But no one else stepped out.

  I pushed past the blue and white overalls, past the two orange flight suits, and peered inside the Orion.

  It was empty.

  “Where is he?” I cried, turning on Harding and Malcolm.

  “This is a senior management issue, Novitiate,” Jessica Harding replied.

  She flicked her hair over her shoulder and started walking off.

  I reached out and grabbed her sleeve, yanking her back.

  “Did you leave him behind?” I demanded.

  Jessica jerked her arm out of my grip and sneered at me.

  “Stand down, Novitiate. You are way out of line.”

  “Jess,” Malcolm said softly. “She’s only worried about him.”

  “Not a word, Novitiate,” Harding snapped at him. “Or I will ground you.”

  Malcolm shoved his hands into his overall pockets and hung his head.

  I opened my mouth to call Jessica Harding every name under the sun, when Dean whispered in my ear, “I’ve got the flight recorder,” and walked off.

  I shot Jessica a glare and then ran after Dean, toward where Sally was waiting for us; already aware of what we were up to. Already there for me. Right where I needed her.

  Jessica might have thought she could keep me out of this mess, but I was as much a part of Jack’s life as RATS was. Crawford might have told me what had happened in due course, but even if we could make Time, Time was not on our side. I needed to know now. Not when it suited the Chief Surgeon.

  I looked out of a window as we strode past and noticed it was raining.

  Somewhere out there, Fawkes’ newly covered grave was getting soaked.

  And somewhen out there was Jack.

  Like Carrie and Sally, I would not leave him behind to drown.

  There’d been enough of that.

  39

  He Lied To Me

  Mimi

  Jessica Harding’s voice sounded out over the speakers, echoing around the little Tech office we were in. The door was locked, and the blinds were drawn, but anyone could have got the key from Simon Cathcart and forced their way inside.

  Luckily, no one had noticed the missing flight recorder yet.

  “What do you mean he stole Lunik plans?” Jess was saying on the recorder.

  “Just that Dr Evans seemed to think that was the most logical reason for the CIA agent being there. He was on Orchard Road, Jess. Why would he be on Orchard Road right when a Luna module was on display in a space convention hall?”

  “That was no space convention,” Harding said. “Jack was right about that. It was a cover. But why would a Luna module be important to Sergei Ivanov?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?” Malcolm said. “And that’s why Dr Evans followed the guy into his hostel, to see what exactly he’d got from the Luna and what it means for RATS.”

  “I’ll tell you what it means,” Jess said with all the authority of a self-righteous know-it-all. “It means Sergei is screwing with Time.”

  “When is he not?” Malcolm muttered.

  “Oh, you’ve not been here long enough to know all the ins and outs of this. Trust me, OK. Ivanov is a loose cannon, but he’s Jack’s loose canon from what I’ve heard.”

  “What?” I said into the stunned silence in the office.

  Dean reached forward and paused the recording.

  “Don’t know for sure,” he said, “but I ‘eard somethin’ similar. That Ivanov was a pupil of Jack’s at one time.”

  “How’s that even possible?” I asked. “Ivanov is from the past, isn’t he? The first Orion.”

  “Yeah,” Dean agreed. “The first Orion that jumped forward through time to ‘ere.”

  “But RATS was already established,” I said desperately. For some reason, this was hurting my head.

  “Causal loop, Mouse,” Sally said. “The original Orion is the first causal loop we ever encountered. Well,” she added, offering a crooked smile, “the first one we encountered after the fact. It had already happened by the time Sergei’s Orion turned up.”

  “Argh,” I said, scrunching my hands up in my hair. “I hate time travel.”

  “No, you don’t,” Dean said merrily. “Wanna ‘ear some more?”

  I nodded and sat forward. Sally mirrored me. There was a little more colour in her cheeks. If a mystery, and getting one up on Harding, helped her get through this sad time, then so be it. I’d help her in any way I could by making her life interesting.

  And by getting back at Harding or Pratt.

  The recording started up again, but this time there was a soft beep in the background.

  “That’d be Evans calling the Orion to ‘im,” Dean said.

  “Thank God,” Harding said over the speakers. “Lay in coordinates.”

  “Coordinates laid and accepted,” Malcolm said.

  “Engage.”

  “Engage?” I said incredulously. “What, does she think she’s Captain Jean-Luc Picard on the USS Enterprise?”

  “Who?” Sally and Dean said.

  “You know, Star Trek: The Next Generation.”

  Blank stares.

  “Oh, for crying out loud. Don't you have reruns of Star Trek? What is wrong with you guys? Star Trek is the foundation for all space flight. Warp speed? Klingons off the starboard bow? We come in peace?”

  “Er,” Sally managed. Dean just shrugged a shoulder.

  “Heathens,” I muttered and looked back at the once again paused flight recorder.

  I thumped a finger down on the play button and waited to see what happened next.

  Alarms started out, subtle at first and then growing louder. Rocket engines roared. A muffled cry of pain followed. Then silence - space silence - followed by the crunching and grinding of an Orion landing incorrectly.

  “Bloody hell,” Dean said. “That sounded bad.”

  “What the…?” Jessica mumbled, sounding like she was struggling to wake up from a deep sleep.

  Or a crash landing.

  “Where are we? Where’s Jack?”

  I sat back in my seat, a hole opening up in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to hear any more. I didn’t really need to. Jack wasn’t with them because they’d ended up in alternate RATS.

  “Jesus, would you look at that?” Malcolm said.

  “What the hell?” Jessica added. “That bitch was right.”

  I arched my brow. Would that bitch be me?

  “What do you mean?” Malcolm asked. “Where are we, Jess?”

  “In a fucking alternate reality. Hit the Return would you?”

  The distinctive sounds of an Orion taking flight on a one way trip to where they had just been sounded out. And then all the alarms ceased.

  A ticking and clanking could be heard, but those were the Orion cooling down. Or heating up considering where it had just been. And then a grating sound as the hatch was opened and Simon Cathcart’s voice saying, “You’re back.”

  Dean reached forward and stopped the playback. No one said a thing for a very long time.

  “That was alternate RATS?” Sally finally asked.

  I nodded my head.

  “They Returned here and not to Singapore,” Dean offered.

  I nodded my head. Time was a mess.

  “So,” Sally said, looking at me carefully. “Where’s Jack?”

  “Back in Singapore?” Dean offered.

  I wasn’t so sure. Everything Time had done since we’d discovered there was an alternate reality had been in twos. Balancing each anomaly out in some fashion. Two Tokyo rips. Two Orion 6s. If Harding and Malcolm flew to here, then what was the other Orion 6 doing right now?

  But more to the point, if Harding and Malcolm had failed to appear when Jack pressed his call button in the hem of his sleeve, then who had?

  Orion 6a with Rafe?

  I started to smile. Time was trying to fix itself with these double ups. Which meant there was a good chance Jack was with Rafe even now.

  I couldn’t think anything other than Rafe being onboard that Vehicle; alive and well. I wouldn’t believe for a second that he wasn’t, and now he was with Jack.

  If that wasn’t a reason to celebrate, I didn’t know what was.

  And then I thought of alternate RATS.

  Celebrating would have to wait.

  Because if Orion 6b was here at our RATS that meant Orion 6a was likely there at alternate RATS.

  “I have to go after them,” I said.

  “What?” Sally asked, sounding stunned. “Who? Jack?”

  “Jack and Rafe,” I said.

  “Mouse,” Dean tried.

  “No, hear me out. Orion 6b is here, at our RATS. Which means Orion 6a is at alternate RATS.”

  “You don’t know that Mouse,” Dean said carefully.

  “I do.”

  “Mouse,” he tried again.

  “The dream,” I said.

  “What dream?” Sally asked.

  “Jack had a dream about being at alternate RATS. And I rescued him on Orion 6b.”

  They stared at me, stunned.

  “But if he’s on Orion 6a,” Sally said carefully, “then why doesn’t he come back?”

  “Why didn’t Rafe?” I said. “Because Time doesn’t like the double ups. It’s been trying to fix them, send them to different realities. Whatever Sergei has been doing has well and truly effed it all up and Time is just trying to right itself. Two Tokyo rips. Two Orion 6s. Two RATS.”

  “Bloody hell,” Dean murmured. “Makes you wonder what else has been doubled up, eh?”

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is Jack is in alternate 23rd Century at a destroyed RATS and probably can’t get back. I have to go after him.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Sally said.

  I grinned at my friend. Of course, Sally would say she’d come with me.

  “Shame we don’t have a Surgeon who can help,” she muttered.

  “You don’t need a Surgeon,” Dean said. “You’ve got RATS’ best Techie.” He thumped his chest. “What more could you need?”

  I looked at both of my friends. In the dream, it had just been Jack and me, but although Jack had seen Orion 6b in his dreams, that didn’t mean his dreams had shown us everything. Rafe had to still be alive. Which meant he had to be with Jack. Which also meant I could take my two best friends with me.

  Somehow I knew we’d need all hands on board for this flight.

  “OK,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

  “Do what, Miss Wylde?” a voice said from the now open door to the office.

  I spun around and came face to face with Dr Rider. I stared at him as Sally and Dean moved to hide the flight recorder at my back. I wasn’t concerned about that, though. Rider would have already seen it. What did concern me was how he’d known we were here. And why he’d entered the room so quietly.

  The man creeped me out. But I just offered a smile and said, “What can I do for you, Dr Rider?”

  “Dr Crawford wanted me to check up on Miss Groves.” His eyes darted to Sal at my back, but they returned to me almost immediately. “Perhaps you’d like to accompany your friend to the medbay,” he said.

  Sal stepped forward. Her fists were clenched, but her chin was lifted.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “I don’t think you are, my dear,” Rider offered, kindly. “And neither does Dr Crawford. Let’s head back to the medbay and have a chat, shall we? You’re welcome to have Miss Wylde attend if it helps.”

  “I’m fine,” Sally repeated, her body thrumming with anger. Even I could tell she was far from fine, but this felt all kinds of wrong for some reason. “Please tell Dr Crawford that I would rather not talk about it just yet.”

  “I’m afraid you don’t have the option of declining,” Rider said. “The Chief Surgeon has issued an order, and it would be unwise to ignore it.”

  “Where’s the order?” I asked.

  “Hmm?” Rider said as if he didn’t understand what I was saying.

  “The order,” I snapped. “Have you got a copy of it for Sally to read?”

  “Yes. Yes. Back in the medbay.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled benignly at us. “It won’t take long, Miss Groves. And then you can go back to whatever it was you were all about to do. It sounded exciting.” He winked as if he would keep our plans a secret for us. As if he knew exactly what we were planning and he approved.

  He neither knew nor would he approve.

  I turned my back to him and looked at Sally. Dean subtly shook his head and then tried to cover the move by wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. Sally bit her bottom lip, eyes wet with threatening tears.

  “Don’t go if you don’t want to, Sal,” I said.

  “That’s not an option,” Rider helpfully supplied over my shoulder.

  “Give us a minute, Doctor,” I growled and crossed to the door. I opened it wide and indicated he should use it.

  He glanced around the room and then nodded his head. “Only a minute, then I must insist you accompany me Miss Groves, or I shall be forced to call Security.”

  “Like you called Security on me,” I muttered.

  “Yes, well. You did discharge yourself against doctor’s orders.”

  He stepped out of the room, and I closed the door. I stared down at the lock. He’d used a key. I hadn’t thought we’d be left alone in here if someone really wanted to find us, but I hadn’t thought it would be Rider doing the finding.

  “I don’t like this,” Dean whispered.

  “What choice do I have?” Sally said forlornly.

  “I’ll go with you,” Dean offered.

  Sally sniffed. This was the last thing she wanted to do; talk to a near stranger about her feelings. About that kiss.

  “Hey,” I said, something occurring to me. “Do you guys tell Rider about your dreams? You know, the prophetic ones?”

  They blinked at me. Sally’s face blushed. Dean grinned.

  “Be a bit intimate, wouldn’t it?” he said. “Some of the Surgeons ‘ave raunchy dreams.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

  I turned and looked at the door. The only door out of this room. Rider stood on the other side of it, I was sure.

  “He lied to me,” I whispered.

  “Who? Rider?” Dean said, moving up to my side.

  “Yes.” I stepped forward and opened the door, prepared to have it out with the man.

  And promptly met the butt of a gun to the side of my head.

  40

  I’m Not The Mouse People Think I Am

  Mimi

  I woke up feeling like cotton wool was in my mouth, and a band of steel drum musicians were pounding away inside my head. Every little beat sent a shard of pain through my skull right into my eyeballs.

  I blinked, taking in the blurry image of an office before me. Two huddled forms were leaning against each other on the other side of the small space. The flight recorder was gone, but I recognised the room. I glanced around, trying not to move my pounding head, to see where Rider was.

  The doctor, thankfully, was missing.

  I licked my lips and blinked a few more times. If this was a concussion on top of my previous concussion, then the wonky vision made sense, but I rather thought something else was at play here. There was a taste on my tongue I couldn’t place but made me think of spy movies and knockout drugs.

  “Hey,” I said, my voice sounding too quiet and far too raspy. “Dean,” I managed. “Sally.”

  Dean stirred, but Sally looked out for the count. I tried to focus enough to see if she had a lump on the side of her head like mine, but my vision wasn’t good enough.

  “Wha’?” Dean mumbled. I watched him struggle with the binds that held his hands together.

  I hadn’t been able to move my arms yet; they felt completely numb. But one sluggish eye roll down told me my hands were bound too.

  Bastard.

  “Mouse?” Dean murmured. “Wha’ the fuck ‘appened?”

  His accent sounded broader all of a sudden. Clearly, Dean wasn’t quite with us yet.

  I blinked a few more times and tried to swallow past the icky taste in my mouth, and managed to wiggle a finger.

  “He drugged us,” I said. It sounded pretty coherent to me.

  But Dean said, “He cuddled us?”

  At least, that’s what I thought he said.

  I groaned. Dean groaned. Sally stayed alarmingly quiet.

  “Sally,” I called.

  Dean shifted and glanced at Sal. He nudged her with his shoulder and then lost his balance and landed in her lap. Face down. I started laughing, which was entirely inappropriate, but whatever Rider had socked us with had an element of mania mixed in with it.