Times Change (21 page)

Cal talked constantly, trying to fill the void with chatter. Jacob saw that he reached for Libby’s hand, held it tight.

And he was denied even that, he thought. Even one last touch.

Cursing Sunny, he climbed out of the car. “I’ll tell Mom and Dad everything.”

Cal nodded. “Get back to the lab. I want to know that you’ll come back and bring them for a visit.”

“I’ll be back.” He embraced his brother.

“I love you, J.T.”

Letting out a long breath, he broke away to turn to Libby. “Tell your sister I’m going to find a way.”

“I’m counting on it.” Libby blinked back tears as she handed him an envelope. “She asked me to give this to you, but to make you promise you won’t open it until you get back to your own time.”

He reached out, but she pulled it back. “Your word. Cal tells me you take promises seriously.”

“I won’t open it until I’m gone.” He folded it carefully before slipping it in his pocket. He kissed her, one cheek, the other, then her mouth. “Keep well, sister.”

The first tear overflowed. “And you.” She turned her face into Cal’s shoulder as Jacob stepped through the hatch.

“He’ll be back, Libby.” He lifted a hand in farewell, then let it fall. Smiling, he pressed a kiss to her hair as she wept. “It’s only a matter of time.”

***

Inside, Jacob cleared his mind and went to work. The procedure for lift-off was basic, but he went through the routine as meticulously as a first-year pilot. He didn’t want to think. Couldn’t afford to.

He had known it would hurt, but he had never imagined this kind of dull, gnawing pain. It made his fingers stiff on the switches.

The lights hummed as he set the controls for ignition. Through the viewscreen he saw that Cal had moved Libby back out of harm’s way. For the last time he searched the forest for signs of Sunny. There was nothing. He threw the last switch.

The ship rose gently, almost silently. He knew he couldn’t afford to linger, but he kept the speed down until his brother was only a speck in the sea of white and green. With an oath, he jammed the throttle and shot through the atmosphere.

Space was soothing, the dark silence of it. He didn’t want to be soothed. It would be best if he held on to his anger, his frustration. His jaw set, he engaged his computer.

“Implement coordinates to sun.”

Coordinates implemented.

Seen through the viewscreen, the world was only a pretty colored ball.

Mechanically he navigated, compensating for a small shower of meteors. It was very simple, really, he thought. Now there was no traffic, commercial or private. No route patrol ships to communicate with. No checkpoints.

He hit the switch and bulleted into hyperspace. As before, his eyes narrowed, his muscles tensed, as he hurtled toward the sun. He watched dispassionately as the gauges registered the increase in outside temperature. With the viewscreen lowered, he flew blind, expertly but without the passion that had fueled him on his last voyage.

Working with the computer, he increased the speed, adjusted the angle. Meticulous and mechanical, his fingers moved over the command console. Though he was prepared, the g’s slammed him back in his chair. Holding course, he swore, filling the cockpit with his anger and his hopelessness.

Now, though his heart was thousands of miles below, there was no turning back.

Like a bullet from a gun, he shot through space and time and away from his heart.

He was breathless when the procedure was complete. A line of sweat rolled down his back. A glance at his gauges told him he had been successful.

Successful, he thought miserably, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Raising the viewscreen, he looked out on his own time.

It looked so similar, the stars, the planets, the inky darkness. There were more satellites, and in the distance he saw a blip of light he knew was a research lab. In less than thirty minutes he would join the traffic patterns. He would no longer be alone. Leaning back, he closed his eyes in quiet desperation.

She was gone.

Fate had brought him to her, then had torn him away. Fate, he thought, and his own intellect. He would use that intellect. If it took a lifetime, he would find a way to bring their lives together again.

Perhaps he would suffer over the months or years it took him to complete the necessary tests that would take him back, safely, close to the time of his lift-off. But he would get back, and he would calculate so minutely that she would barely realize he’d ever been gone.

Slowly he took the letter out of his pocket. It was all he had left of her. Some message, he thought. A few words of love and remembrance. It wouldn’t be enough, he thought furiously, and ripped it open.

There was only one word.

Surprise.

Baffled, he stared at it.

Surprise? he thought. Just surprise. What kind of last message was that? So damn typical of her, he decided, balling the paper up in his fist. Then, relenting, willing to settle for even as little as this, he smoothed it out again.

At a faint sound, he whirled in the chair.

She was standing at the doorway to the flight deck. She was deathly pale, and her eyes were glassy. But as he watched, dumbfounded, her lips moved into a smile.

“So, you got my message.”

“Sunny?” He whispered her name at first, wondering if he was hallucinating. It was only one of the potential side effects of time travel. He would have to remember to make a note of it.

But he could not only see her, hear her, he could smell her. He catapulted out of the chair to grab her close, to devour her mouth like a starving man.

Then it struck him. Terrified him.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, shaking her. “What the hell have you done?”

“What had to be done.” When she swayed, he cursed her again.

“Yell at me later,” she said calmly. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

“No, you’re not.” Though he was infuriated, he lifted her as though she were fragile glass and carried her to a chair. Then he was all business.

“You’re light-headed?”

“Yes.” She put her hand on her temple. “It was a hell of a trip.”

“Nauseous?”

“Some.”

He pressed a round black button, and a small compartment opened. He pulled out a square box. From it he took a tiny, paper-thin pill. “Let this dissolve on your tongue. Idiot,” he said, even as she obeyed. “You aren’t prepped for traveling at warp speed.”

The relief was instant. She took a long breath, pleased that she wasn’t going to disgrace herself. Ignoring him for the moment, she turned to the viewscreen. The galaxy was spread out before her.

“Oh, my God.” The color that had come back into her cheeks fled again. “It’s incredible. Is that—is that Earth?”

“Yes.” His palms were damp. If his stomach didn’t settle, he’d have to resort to a pill himself. “Sunny, do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“How fast are we going?”

“Damn it, Sunny.”

“Yes, I know what I’ve done.” She swiveled in the chair to rest her hands on his knees. Her eyes, when they met his, were dark and clear. “I’ve passed through time with you, Jacob.”

“You have to be out of your mind.” He wanted to shake her until her bones rattled. He wanted to hold her against him until they melted. “How could you have pulled off a ridiculous stunt like this?”

“Cal and Libby helped me.”

“They helped you? They knew you’d planned this?”

“Yes.” When she felt her hands begin to tremble, she sat back and folded them in her lap. She didn’t want him to know how frightened she was. “I decided last night.”

“You decided,” he repeated.

“That’s right.” Her chin lifted, and she gave him a long, level look. “I talked to Cal this morning, told him what I wanted to do.” Calmer now, she turned to the viewscreen again. There were lights in the sky. Stars. Instead of looking up at them, she looked out. As incredible as it was, she was hurtling through space with the only man she had ever loved. Would ever love.

Someone had to be sensible. Someone had to be calm. But he wasn’t sure it could be him. “Sunny, I don’t think you understand what you’ve done.”

“I understand perfectly.” She looked back at him. Yes, she was calm again, she realized. Calm, with her mind clear and her heart content. “Cal made a token protest—more for Libby’s sake than mine, really. But when I spoke with her she understood. She brought me to the ship herself this afternoon, when you were busy with Cal.”

“Your parents . . .”

“Would want me to be happy.” There was a pang, a deep one, when she thought of them. “Libby and Cal will explain everything to them.” Because she was sure her legs were steady again, she rose to walk around the flight deck. “I’m not saying they won’t be sad, or that they won’t miss me if it isn’t possible to go back. But I think my father—particularly my father—will get a tremendous charge when he thinks of where I am.” She laughed. “
When
I am.”

She turned back, still smiling. “Neither of us is good at compromising, J.T. With us, it’s all or nothing. That’s why we’ll get along so well.”

“I would have come back.” He covered his face with his hands, then dragged them back through his hair. “Damn it, Sunny, I told you I’d come back. A year, maybe two or three.”

“I didn’t want to wait that long.”

“You idiot, if I had managed to perfect it I’d have been back five minutes after I’d left, in your time.”

Her time. It struck him so hard, so deep, that he wasn’t sure he could speak. “You had no right to make a decision like this without discussing it with me.”

“It’s my decision.” Riled, she stalked back to him. “If you don’t want me, then I’ll just find some nice, appreciative companions. Maybe on Mars. I can take care of myself, pal. Just consider that I’ve hitched a ride.”

“It has nothing to do with what I want. It’s what’s best for you.”

“I know what’s best for me.” She rapped a fist on his chest. “I thought it was you, but I’ve made one or two mistakes before.” She spun away and took two steps before he grabbed her.

“Where are you going to go?” he demanded. “There’s still a few thousand kilometers before we hit breathable atmosphere.”

“It’s a big ship.”

“Sit down.”

“I don’t—”

“I said sit down.” He gave her a none-too-gentle shove that sent her sprawling into the chair. “And shut up. I have something to say to you.” When she braced her hands on the arms of the chair, he lifted a fist. “If you get up, I swear I’m going to belt you.”

Seething, she sat back. “That’s one term that appears to have survived the centuries.”

“If I’d known what you were planning I’d have used that term before. There were risks involved here that you have no conception of. If I’d made a mistake, a miscalculation, even the slightest—”

“But you didn’t.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point, Hornblower?”

“You shouldn’t have done this.”

She let out an impatient breath. “Well, it’s no use belaboring that point, because I have done it. Why don’t we move on to the next step?”

He found he had to sit himself. “You may never be able to get back.”

“I know. I’ve accepted that.”

“If you change your mind—”

“Jacob.” Sighing, she rose, only to kneel beside him. “I can’t change my mind unless I change my heart. And that’s just not possible.”

He reached out to touch her hair. “I wouldn’t have asked this of you.”

“I know. And if I had asked to come with you you would have given me half a dozen very logical reasons why I couldn’t.” She turned her face into his palm. “And you’d have been wrong. What I couldn’t do is live without you.”

“Sunny.”

“Look at it this way. I’ve always felt that I was ahead of my time, kind of placed in the wrong era. Maybe I’ll do better in yours.”

“This was a stupid thing to do.” Then he pulled her up into his lap. “Thank God you did it.”

“Then you’re not mad?”

He showed her just how mad he was when his mouth took hers. “When you wouldn’t see me today, it was as if you’d cut out my heart. It didn’t matter, because I’d wanted to leave it with you.”

Tears rushed to her eyes, but she forced them back. She wanted only to smile at him. “That’s almost poetic.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Still holding her, he leaned forward to make some adjustments on the control panel.

“Can you teach me how to drive this?”

He slanted her a look. She was here, really here. And his. Forever. “I’m already terrified of the idea of you at the controls of a cruise rider.”

“I’m a quick study.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He drew her back until she was settled in the curve of his arm. “I’m not sure even my world’s ready for you.”

“But you are.”

He kissed her again, gently. “I’ve been ready all my life.”

With a sigh, she teased his mouth until the passion simmered. “I don’t suppose we could put this thing on automatic pilot or whatever.”

“Not at this point.”

“We did make it back, didn’t we?”

He inclined his head toward the screen. “We’ve got a little way to go yet.”

“No, I mean
back.
What year is it?”

He gestured toward the dials. “2254.”

The enormity of it made her giddy. His arms made her trust. “So that makes me . . . 287 years old.” She cocked a brow. “How do you feel about older women?”

“I’m crazy about them.”

“Remember that when I hit three hundred and things start to sag.” She kissed him lightly. “I plan to frustrate you, annoy you and generally make your life chaos for a long time.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Together they watched the blue-green sphere that was home draw closer.

Epilogue

The sound of crashing waves seemed to fill the room. The clear wall opened the suite to the passion of the lightning-split sky and the boiling sea. The scent of jasmine, rich and sultry, rose on the air. Low, pulsing music echoed over the roar of waves and the violent boom of thunder.

“I was right,” Sunny murmured.

Jacob shifted on the cloud bed to draw her closer. “About what—this time?”

“The storm.” Her body still vibrated from passion just released. “I knew it wasn’t a night for moonlight or tropical sunsets.”

She had been right. But he hated to admit it. “The atmosphere didn’t make that much difference.”

She rolled, all but floated, to lie across him. “Is that why you brought me here? To the place you once described to me?”

“I brought you here for a few days of relaxation.”

“So that’s what you brought me here for. When are we going to relax?” She grinned before she bent down to press kisses on his chest. “See, you’re already tensing up again.”

He skimmed a hand over her hair. “How long have we been married?”

Lazily she touched a button on the side of the bed. The time flashed, the numbers suspended in the air, then blinked off. “Five hours and twenty minutes.”

“I figure we’ll relax in about fifty years.” His hand wandered to her bare shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“Being married?”

“That, too. But I mean this place.”

He was so sweet, she thought, the way he didn’t want her to think he was too sentimental. “I love it, and since we’re newlyweds and allowed to be mushy I’ll tell you that bringing me here was the most romantic thing you’ve ever done.”

“I thought you might prefer Paris, or the Intimacy Resort on Mars.”

“We can always go to Mars,” she said, and giggled. “I’m almost getting used to saying things like that. I told you I was a quick study.”

“You’ve been here six months.”

“You are a tough nut.” She slid down him to rest her cheek on his chest. “Six months,” she repeated. “It took you long enough to marry me.”

“I’d have had it over with in six minutes if you and my father hadn’t gotten together.”

“Over with?” She raised her head, her eyes dangerous. “Income tax reports are things you want to get over with.”

“Income tax reports?” he repeated, blankly.

“I forgot. Unpleasant tasks,” she said. “That’s what you want to get over with. If marrying me was so unpleasant, why did you bother?”

“Because you would have nagged me.” He winced when she pinched him. “Because I thought it was the least I could do.” This time he laughed, rolling onto her as she dug her nails into his arms. “Because you’re gorgeous.”

“Not good enough.”

“And marginally intelligent.”

“Keep trying.”

“Because loving you has scrambled my circuits.”

“I guess that’ll do.” Happy, she linked her arms around his neck. “Maybe it was a lot of fuss and bother, but it was a beautiful wedding. I’m glad your father talked us into something traditional.”

“It was all right, as ceremonies go.” And when he’d seen her start down the aisle on his father’s arm, draped in shimmering white, he’d been struck dumb.

“I like your parents. They’ve made me feel very much at home.” With her tongue in her cheek, she looked at him again. “Especially when they let me in on deep, dark family secrets.”

“Such as?”

“The
T
in J.T.” When he grimaced, she really began to enjoy herself. “It seems you were so rotten, so undisciplined, so . . .”

“I was just a curious child.”

“. . . so hardheaded,” she continued, without missing a beat, “that your father used to say Trouble was your middle name. And the
T
stuck. Aptly.”

“You haven’t seen trouble yet.”

She slid up again to nip his lip. “I’m hoping I will.”

After a quick kiss, he slid out of bed.

The silky sheets pooled at her waist as she sat up. “Where do you think you’re going? I haven’t finished with you yet.”

“I forgot something.” He hadn’t forgotten at all. He’d been waiting for the right moment. He adjusted the lights so that they flickered like the flames of a dozen candles. Moments later, he returned with a box. “It’s a gift.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never given you one.” He set it in her hands. “Are you going to open it or just stare at it?”

“I was enjoying the moment.” With her tongue caught between her teeth, she opened the box. Inside was a teapot, squat, of cheap china, with a bird on the lid and huge, ugly daisies painted on the bowl. “Oh, God.”

“I wanted you to have something from your time.” He felt a little foolish, not ready to admit that he had spent months scouring antique shops. “When I saw this, it was . . . well, like fate. Don’t cry.”

“I have to.” She sniffled, then raised her drenched eyes to his. “It survived. All this time.”

“The best things do.”

“Jacob.” She made a helpless gesture, then hugged the pot. “There’s nothing you could have given me that would have meant more.”

“There’s something else.” He sat beside her. After taking the teapot, he set it aside. “Would you like to see your family for Christmas?”

For a moment, she couldn’t speak. “Are you sure?”

“I’m nearly there, Sunbeam.” He brushed away a tear, let it shimmer on his fingertip. “Just trust me a little while longer.”

Fighting tears, she put her arms around him. “Take all the time you need. We’ve got forever.”