"Where am I going today?" Kristin Kingston asked as her cousin Mark pinned her to the twin bed under the small window that looked out over the car-filled street a few stories below.
"Oh, no where big," he lied, pulling a sheath of wires out of the bag he had placed on her chest. "You probably don't want to be around for the rest of the day anyways." Kristin snorted derisively.
"Who would? You know, she calls me 'darling', like I was two or something," Kris complained, allowing Mark to stick one of the suction-cupped wires on her left forehead. "Sometimes, I wonder what Dad sees in a person like her."
"Not to worry, little cousin," Mark said, sticking another wire on the other side of her forehead. "You won't be here to endure any of it." He pulled a hand held monitor out of the bag and examined the screen.
"Hey, just where are you sending me?" Kris asked again pushing the bag off her chest. "Not back to Elizabeth-"
"No," Mark said quickly, "nothing like that. We're trying something new today." He set the monitor down on the bedside table and slid off of her, standing up by the bed. "You'll be gone for about, oh, I'm not sure, ten hours here?" Kristin's eyes widened and she moved to sit up, but Mark pushed her back down first, anticipating what her actions would be.
"Ten hours? That's like, a month!" Kris sat up, ignoring Mark's hand on her shoulders. "I don't want to be anywhere for that long."
"You haven't got much of a choice," Mark said. "Come on, it's either that or put up with Judith all day." Kris winced, but held on.
"No Mark. Ten hours is too long. Too much can happen. We've been over this. I could be dead and buried in ten hours. Or have kids." Kristen swung her feet over the side of the bed.
"You won't be dead," Mark sighed. "and not quite on having kids, unless you adopt. I installed protections. What kind of a person do you think I am?"
"A person who would try to send his only cousin to Mars-"
"Hey, that was the first and only time," Mark objected. "Okay, ready? You leave for Greece in five…four-"
"Greece? Mark, what are you doing?" Kristin reached up to pull the wires off, but Mark hit the button before she could. The first wave of dizziness flew through her head as Kris held on to reality for a moment. "Not ten hours, you dork. Not ten…" Mark reached down and gently rubbed her cheek.
"You'll have fun, Kris. Just don't fall in love with somebody while you're there. I think you'll like the story. In fact, I know you will." Kristin kept holding on, resisting the pull that would win, any minute now. She could do nothing but glare at Mark.
"Okay, maybe not ten. Just long enough to keep you away from Judith. And," Mark said as Kris closed her eyes, "try to stay away from most of the warriors, and don't become too involved in politics. In fact, maybe even head for..."
Mark's words were lost on Kristin; she was gone. Her heartbeat slowed down considerably, and her breath came slower. Eyes closed tightly, she looked asleep - at least in her body on base one, also known as home on earth. But her mind was wide awake, traveling to another place that was, while not on earth, in earth, and another body that waited for her there.
Kristin Kingston was a world traveler. She'd been to Mars, several Star Wars planets, hundreds of time different time eras, and a few diverse galaxies. She'd joined characters in movies and books and had lived with them, taking place in their adventures.
The process began at Base One, but most people simply called it The Base. The other bases were far too numerous to count and label; since Base One was the most important, it was the only common known base. Base One was wear Kris headed as soon as Mark plugged her into the system.
The entire thing was mental stimulation. Or, that's what Kris had been told. People who had open minds were able to be influenced so that they felt they were in another world. All of their senses would confirm it. Not everyone was open. Only about .9 of the population was able to word travel. The people who could not travel just had too much of a closed off mind. That's what Kris had been told.
She didn't entirely believe it. How can mental stimulation leave you with scars? How can it take your life? And how was her mind open? Kris hated world traveling.
It was dangerous. Anything that happened to your body while you were at another base also happened to your body at Base One and Home Base. This meant that injuries had to be treated and left real scars. Though it rarely happened, if someone was fatally injured, they died.
No way that was all mental stimulation.
Time was different when you were World Traveling. An hour at Base One could be as much as three days at whatever base you were at. Because of this, your time at Base One was usually less than an hour. In fact, you were not allowed to be absent from Base One for more than an hour until you'd proven yourself trustworthy of longer expeditions.
Kris mentally cursed her cousin Mark as a light began to shine through the darkness of her mind. Mark was a programmer, the one person who most commonly sent Kris to the Base. Programmers were people who did not have the ability to World Travel. They would type up the important information of the trip, including where and when, how and why, for how long and to what extent The information would then be sent to Base where it would be entered into the computer under the name of the traveler. When the traveler reached base, the information could be plugged into the network. When the traveler was also hooked up to the network, he or she would be sent to where the information detailed.
What could Mark be thinking? Ten hours? That could be as long as a month, longer in some places. Whole worlds could be destroyed in a month.
Mark was a good programmer. He'd had lots of practice with Kris. Over the years, he'd developed information sheets that were impossible to change. Much of the time the programmers at Base could find a loop-hole if you didn't want to go where you're programmer was sending you. Mark had proofed his information sheets too well for that. His work was final. If he said Kris was gone for ten hours, she was gone for ten hours.
The light grew stronger as Kristin drew closer to at Base. She willed herself towards it faster, anxious to know where she was going. Greece, she knew that much, but what day? Or rather, what time period? Future? Present? Past?
In a flash that hurt her unopened eyes, the light took over the darkness. Kris opened her eyes in the transferring center, somewhere near the center of the earth. Hurriedly, she stood up. The Center was unusually full of travelers laying on pads. The pads were the highest technology to be found at Base. When a traveler was hooked up to their pad, they were part of the network. Bodies were kept hydrated and nourished while the traveler was at some other base; the mind activity of the person was monitored and recorded. If circumstances seemed to be too much for a traveler to handle, they were pulled back through the network. If their programming would allow them. When someone like Mark was programmer, there was no permanent way out until your time was entirely up. The experience could be "paused" but only for a period equal to five minutes on Base. And that could only happen three times.
All of this was executed through the pads - made of high-tech, fiber-optic mattresses connected to the traveler by wires and suction cups. The pads were connected to an individual computer that was connected to the network. This was how people were observed and monitored while they were traveling.
Kris looked around. A few programmers had looked up at her movement, but they had returned to their computers. Pads were arranged in groups of two facing each other foot to foot. The pad across from hers in the advanced section was full. It had been full for weeks.
Dwain Roberts had programmed himself into the network and sent himself away. He had been gone for close to four weeks; four week turned into five years at a foreign base. Where was not disclosed to public; Kris had a feeling that not even the administrators knew.
Kris shivered as she walked down the hall, momentarily forgetting her anger. What had happened to Dwain was a mystery, and mysteries almost never fared well in the traveler's word. When certain people could enter any reality or dream, any story, movie, song, even world, the people in control needed to know where you were headed. If they didn't, there was a chance you could never come back.
Kris walked quickly down the hall, ignoring the pads on either side of her. Most of them were occupied, filled with apparently sleeping people of all ages, races, and personalities. Down the hall, turn right-
"Kris!" Kristin almost jumped out of her skin as she heard her name exclaimed. "I heard you'd be coming in today." Kristin took a deep breath to calm her nerves fell into step beside the old man waiting for her at the entrance to the main chamber of Base. "I decided to greet you."
"Hi. How's everything here?" Kris asked him. Johnny Lamb smiled as he hurried to keep step with her.
"Oh, mostly fine," he said vaguely as they turned a corner into the huge room filled with equipment, work benches, costume racks, tables, malfunctioning traveling pads stripped of their padding, and people. "We've had an unusual amount of people trying to get to the same place at the same time - seems that all the young ladies want to meet Will Turner, or some such nonsense." Kris smiled, waving at a few people she recognized - fellow travelers and some center workers.
"Will Turner? Why not Jack Sparrow? Much better than Turner." Johnny nodded absentmindedly, glancing at a table filled with blueprints for an extensive looking section of caves.
"Personally, I have no opinion on the subject, except for the fact that that age is certainly dangerous, and hard to equip people for, especially inexperienced travelers. I've been able to detour a few of them to other places - it's quite ridiculous how naïve they are. I'm not sending them anywhere near pirates." Kris silently laughed as the old man continued. "Those few them that insisted on going, I've sent them to a deserted island with that Turner character - much safer than the real thing." Johnny turned another corner and the main center appeared - a glass building inside the hall that held the main computer.
"Yes," Kris said vaguely. "Well, I've been wondering-" .
"About Dwain," he finished for her with a sideways glance. Of course Johnny would guess that. He was an insightful, if sometimes annoying, old man. "No sign of coming to, no sign of waking," Johnny explained. "His workers are past being frantic and are simply working their tails off to get information. We haven't been able to find out much, but we have discovered a little bit more through combining his programming again and again, and I think we may be getting to a spot where we can change his programming or send another person to follow him."
"Tell me about it later," Kristin commanded, following him into the glass center. Although she was interested, her mind was elsewhere. "Mark wants me somewhere for ten hours. Do you think-"
"No," Johnny said quickly. "There's no fooling with Mark's work - it doesn't pay off." He waved to a passing female carrying a box of papers who smiled back. "You'd end up stuck wherever married to a farmer with pigs, or something worse."
"Shoot," Kris sighed as they walked up the stairs, into the control room. "Mark said something about Greece before he- before I left." Kris didn't want to tell Johnny that Mark sometimes sent her places against her will. They might get him in trouble with the high-ups. Okay, the would definitely get him in trouble with the high-ups; no matter how much Mark bothered her, Kris wasn't ready to turn him in.
"Really?" Johnny asked as they stopped at a table surrounded by workers. "We've made some progress with Dwain - for instance, we know where he is. Do you know what time in Greece?"
"No, I was hoping you could tell me. Hi Maurice."
"Hey Kristin. How are you?" the tall black man in front of her asked. "Heard you're going to Greece." He smiled, waving her information papers about in one hand. "Wonderful weather this time of the year-" Kris tugged the papers from him and shuffled through them, looking for the only page that was full of words, print that she could understand. Experienced techies could read the computer lingo that covered most of the pages, but not Kris. Maurice put his hands up in the air and shrugged, looking at Johnny with a little bit of worry on his face. Johnny looked over her shoulder at the paper.
"Destination: Greece," Kris read out loud to the two men. "Time Era: War between Greece and Troy over land and woman Helen. Based on numerous retellings of the war. .." Kris's voice trailed off as she read down the page. Maurice started laughing as her expression turned sour.
"Is your cousin a mind reader?" he asked, slapping Kristin on the shoulder. Kris shook her head and looked up from the paper. "How does he do it, then?"
"What?" Kris asked, her eyebrows furrowed in a scowl. "What's the fool done now?" she continued, her frown deepening.
"Oh, it's just that-" Maurice began, smiling like an insane man, but Johnny cut him off.
"Kristin, I think we need to have a meeting before you leave," he said, a small smile on his own face. "This is some unbelievable luck - after all, you've done missions before-"
"Oh, not again," Kris groaned as she followed the two men into a glass walled room, a long table in the center. "What's it this time?" She plunked herself down in a chair, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest.
"Wait till I get the others," Johnny commanded, leaving the room again. His voice had a hint of excitement in it that he couldn't contain. Kris raised her eyebrows and looked at Maurice, sitting on the table a few feet down from her.
"Intercom broke down yesterday," he explained. "Manual retrieving of personnel is now necessary." Kris snorted and leaned her head back, closing her eyes for a moment. Every bit of dizziness was gone, but she had been tired to begin with - now she was close to falling asleep. Stupid Mark…why Greece? Just in time for a mission? Was he a mind-reader?
Johnny entered the room again, looking flustered, leading three other people. The first was Carrie, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, perfect figure programmer who had a knack for being the bossiest person around. Following her was Tony, the small technician who happened to be Dwain's brother - a personal interest in the case. The last was Brian Hall, who everyone called "Mr. Hall" because he would respond to no other name. Next to Carrie, he was the second bossiest. Also the best programmer around - except for child-prodigy Mark. The three of them sat down. Carrie nodded at Kris, Tony smiled and waved, and Mr. Hall ignored her completely.
"People, we have had a bit of luck, at last," Johnny said, sitting down at the head of the table. "Kristin here is heading to the exact time which, if we calculate it, is almost where Dwain is. We've just discovered-" He got no further. Before he could speak, Tony jumped up and hurried over to where Kris had sat down.
"Really?" he asked excitedly, ignoring Johnny as he spoke. Tony was short, probably five foot. "Troy? I mean, the war between Troy and Greece, over Helen, with Achilles, and Agamemnon, and-"
"Yes, Tony. Calm yourself," Kris said, not unkindly. She handed him the destination paper. He snatched it from her hand, his eyes skimming the paper. Tony could read like no other.
"Yes," Johnny continued, glaring at Tony, who continued reading, completely unaware, "we've discovered that it's almost the exact period." He said it like it had taken a lot of work on his and others parts, even though it took no more than glancing over a page of writing. "Kris, would you mind…" Kris shook her head even while she sighed.
"No. I can't get out of it, so-" Hall snorted at that - "so I might as well look for him." Kris finished, glaring at Hall. The man was insufferable, completely stuck up, and found it hard to accept that there was a better programmer than him.
"Thank-you," Johnny quietly, looking with gratitude at Kristin. "You're one of our better agents-"
"I'm not an agent." Maurice snorted at that. Kris turned her head to look at him. He was laughing silently. When he saw her looking, he stopped.
"Sorry, mate, but you might as well be an agent. First that business in Ghana, than in World War II, then in Alaska Gold Rush - you're an agent." Kris frowned at him.
"Then why am I not paid?" she asked solidly. He shrugged.
"Good question." Maurice said, turning to Johnny. Hall snorted.
"Oh, come on, the kid doesn't need pay. She's what, sixteen?" Hall asked arrogantly. Kris looked up, offended. "Besides, I could change her programming if we needed to." He leaned back and crossed his arms. "She makes it sound like she's some kind of saint," he muttered.
"I'd like to see you try," Carrie snapped, ignoring his second comment. "It's impossible to change her programmer's work." She tossed her head, sending blonde hair flying into Maurice's face. "He's got no loop-holes at all." Hall glared at her angrily, and opened his mouth to speak, but Johnny beat him to it.
"Alright kids, let's be nice. Kris, you don't mind? Oh, and Hall, she is seventeen." Kris shook her head, but her mouth was shut tight. She was not in the mood for this today. "Good. Let's get started then. Tony?" Tony looked up from the paper and glanced at Kris in a new light before looking at Johnny.
"Yes Mr. Lamb?"
"I'm going to need you to get us all the files that you have on Dwain. Kris needs to leave in less than an hour - let's make sure she's well informed. Hall, I want you going over her programming - I doubt there's mistakes, but check. Carrie…just help Hall." Johnny turned to Maurice. "You and I will help Kris get…informed." Maurice nodded and stood up, walking over to Kris and tipping the back of her chair down, almost dumping her on the floor. She grabbed the arms to keep from falling out and stood up herself, spinning around to face Maurice, who was already out the door.
"Let's go kid!" he called back. "Time to get you 'informed'." Kris sighed and walked out, back into the noise of the main room. She dodged a few low programmers, and followed Maurice, looking back to make sure Johnny was following. Being along with Maurice can drive a person crazy. Johnny was behind her. He smiled reassuringly, and Kris fought the urge to laugh - with his white hair sticking up in random places and twinkling gray eyes, Johnny looked like he still tried to be a kid, even though she knew it was just Johnny.
Maurice led them into a small conference room where Tony was digging through file cabinets, pulling manila folders out by the tens.
"You'll want to look at these," he began, sliding two across the table to Kris. "And these," three more, "And probably, these few-"
"Enough, Tony," Maurice said, laughing. "She only has half an hour." Tony's face turned red as he pulled the folder back.
"Of course. Alright, well, that's what you should go through - the basics." he stood up and hurried around the table to leave. Kris placed a hand on his shoulder as he walked by.
"I'll find him if I can," she told him, looking Tony in the eye. "If I can do it, I will." Tony smiled and nodded gratefully, then turned and hurried out. Kris sighed and sat down at the table, ignoring the looks sent to her by both Maurice and Johnny. They looked at each other and shrugged before sitting down at the table beside her.
"Okay, where do we begin?" Kris asked, picking up the first folder. Opening it, she read the title of the first page: HAND MOVEMENTS OF THE LAST WEEK "Oh no," she sighed, dropping the paper and moving to the next one.
"Any of this pertinent?" Maurice asked as he picked up another paper, glancing at the title: HEART RATE AND MIND ACTIVITY OF THIRD WEEK.
"No," Johnny sighed, picking up a folder, then dropping it in disgust. Kris dropped her folder, and picked another up.
"Here we go," she said, opening the pages.. "Oh, never mind," she sighed, dropping the paper. BREATHS A MINUTE - FIRST WEEK. Maurice caught sight of it and laughed. Johnny sighed again.
"Well, it looks like you'll be learning from us," he said tiredly. "Okay. Dwain Roberts. Left four week ago, unknown destination until yesterday. We were reading through journals that he's kept over the years, and he actually wrote the exact programming information. We were going to send an agent in to recover him, but…you're here." Maurice grinned over at Kris.
"According to my calculations," he said, grin dropping away instantly, "Although he has been away for four weeks here, he feels like he has been away for 2,016 days. About five and a half years. The state of anyone's sanity after such a length of time is doubtful." Maurice was the head of Time Operations at the Center - he knew every time conversion for every place ever traveled to.
Kris whistled softly - something she'd learned from Mark.
"Five and a half YEARS? And I thought a month was bad." Kris said softly. Johnny nodded.
"We haven't heard from him since the second day he was gone. He's not dead, he's just not responding. We can't bring him out without making sure he's okay, and we can't just leave him there forever - he would be immortal in his land, and he's healthy - he won't die here for a long time." Johnny shook his head sadly. "It's a bad thing. We have to get him out."
"Your job," Maurice began, "is to look for him. Don't even go out of your way to find him. Just look around. If you don't see him without looking, he doesn't want to be found yet and there's nothing we can do about it." Kris looked at him questioningly.
"If you don't want to be found, you won't," Johnny said. "If you want to be found, any other traveler will see you. It just…is."
"Okay," Kris said. "That makes it so much clearer." Maurice lifted his hands in mock cheering.
"She understands!" He reached over and slapped her on the shoulder. "That's a first. Should I bring the champagne out?"
"No," Johnny said. "She's still a minor." Both men started laughing, as if there had been some inside joke in what he'd said; Kris got the feeling that both were functioning on to little sleep and were slap-happy. She sighed and leaned back in her chair again, picking up another random folder.
"There's not much else we can tell you," Johnny said after he stopped laughing. "There isn't a lot else to know. It won't help for you to know what he wore when he first entered - after five years, it's bound to have changed." A knock came on the door. It opened to Hall and Carrie, both tugging on the same piece of paper. They stopped when the door opened, and Carrie let go to fuss with her hair. Hall entered the room.
"There's nothing wrong with her programming," he said disdainfully. "Un-tastefully done, but what can be expected?" He sniffed. "The programmer's a cretin, but oh well."
"What do you mean?" Johnny said, pulling the paper out of Hall's hands. Kris silently laughed. This man calling Mark a cretin, so accurately, when he hadn't even met him…it was laughable.
"Oh dear," Johnny said worriedly after looking at the paper. "Kristin, how old is your programmer?"
"Uh, nineteen, I think. Why? What's wrong with it?" Johnny held the paper for a moment, then slid it toward Kris. Maurice grabbed it before she could catch it.
"I think he has a maturity problem," Johnny told her. The moment Maurice glanced over the paper, a look of unbelief dawned across his face. He tossed the paper at Kris quickly, unbelief quickly turning to laughter as he put his head in his hands. Definitely slap-happy.
Kris snatched the paper, glaring at Maurice. But he was too incapacitated from laughter to even respond. She moved her gaze to the paper as Hall continued talking.
"Very immature. Clearly he can't put his powers to good use." Hall sniffed again, very disdainfully. Kris moved all her attention to the paper, scanning the page. It was technical jargon.
"Can someone explain?" she asked. "I can't understand this-" Maurice sat up and snatched the paper from her hands; his laughter, but not smile, was gone.
"Basically, this has your journey programmed up to the first three days. He's placed you in a very certain spot - shipwrecked off the coast of Greece. About 100 miles off the coast of Greece." Kris clenched her fists and jaw, resisting the urge to slap the table, and leaned her head down. Mark knew she hated ships.
"A ship is picking you up - a ship of warriors, heading to Troy. According to the programming," Maurice said, looking over at Kris, "he's having you picked up by Achilles himself." Kris jerked upright at that, but Maurice stopped her from talking.
"Hush, it get's worse. Not only is one of the most famous warriors in the world giving you a ride to Troy, he's probably going to demand some sort of payment. History tells us that Achilles was indeed a womanizer-"
"Don't say anything else," Kris warned standing up. "I'm gonna kill him. Oh, I'm gonna kill him…"
Getting involved with main characters was dangerous. If you saved the life of a person who was supposed to die, the whole world could be turned upside down. Whole worlds could be changed, changing the effect the book has on society. Whether we like it or not, these stories influence society more than we'd like to think.
"We can provide you with weapons," Johnny said. "You know how to fight?"
"Yes," Kris said. "I can fight - judo, karate, street fighting, sort of. But if the person is a lot bigger than me, it gets kind of hard…" Maurice laughed again. "You've got the picture," she said. "Stupid." Angrily, she began to pace up and down the floor.
"There is no way we can change it," Johnny said regretfully. "Bad things can happen when we aren't able to make changes…make sure that next time, this Mark knows not to do anything like this again."
"Oh, he knows what he is doing," Kris said angrily. "That is simply why he does it." Johnny sighed, looking very old and very tired.
"The best you can do is anything to avoid him," Johnny said. "If you must be on the ship, then be as silent as possible, but try not to attract his attention. If you want, you can ask for provisions and wait it out till another ship comes through, though since it's programmed, I think it will happen anyways." Kris nodded slowly. "Well, lets go get you ready. We'll make your outfit a little more modern than is usual - I mean, you can't be ship-wrecked wearing a dress, or something." Maurice laughed again. The thought of Kris in a dress seemed to amuse him. Kris glared at him.
"Can someone shut up Mr. Laughter here? He's getting on my nerves."
"Mine also," Hall said. Maurice looked up.
"If it bugs you, try leaving," he said, but the laughter stopped for the moment. Kris walked out the door, following Johnny. He lead her over to a costume rack and began to flip through.
"No," he muttered before moving to the next rack. "I'm thinking leggings, cape…more like Legolas gear than anything else." Kris looked up from the bright fabrics.
"Legolas? That's not really Greek-"
"Okay, I'll pack Legolas gear. You'll wear…sailor garb. A white shirt-" he pulled one of the rack - it was baggy, loose, billowy - "and leggings," Johnny finished, walking to another rack.
"Can we ditch the leggings?" Kris asked.
"Not unless you'd rather wear a skirt," Johnny chuckled. "Even that will be highly unusual. Here," he said, handing her a pair of black leggings, made of some kind of rough material, "it could be worse." Kris held the pants up and grimaced. Johnny laughed aloud and moved a another rack with a clear sign that read, "Lord of the Rings". It was probably the longest rack in sight.
"We've had so many people heading that way that we just went and created clothes for it. Funnest week of my life." He moved straight to a section of green, gray, blue, and silvery garments labeled "Elvish". Quickly, he pulled a light blue knee length tunic of the stand and dropped it in Kristin's arms. It was made of rough material, small white flowers embroidered near the top. Exactly like what Legolas wore.
Johnny pulled the tunic back in a moment.
"Go get changed," he said. "I'll pack this stuff in a bag. You may not need it, but then again, you might. How does his gear sound for weapons?"
"Okay," Kris said hurriedly. "That sounds good. I'll be back in a minute." Kris turned and walked away through the racks, straight to where her friend Macy was standing, waiting for her.
"Hey, what's up?" the youth asked as Kris reached her. "Been trying to see you since you got here, but you know Hall."
"Yeah, I do," Kris said. "What's up with you?" Macy shrugged; her long, black hair looking cleaner than it usually did.
"There's a new guy in sector six. He's pretty cute. Oh, and I have more breaks now - something about work experience, or something." She walked with Kris towards the changing rooms. "I got to visit Mum a while ago. What's Mark up too?"
"Same old, same old. Tried to hook me up with some guy in Canada last week," Kris said, frown disappearing. Macy laughed.
"Yup, same old, same old. You here long?"
"No, I gotta leave right away. Another mission thing." Kristin walked into a changing room and closed the door.
"Where are you going this time?" Macy yelled over the door.
"Greece - and you don't know anything."
"What's wrong with Greece?" Macy asked, a little quieter.
"Oh nothing, but it's during the war with Troy," Kris said, pulling the white shirt on over her head, glad she had worn a sports bra that day. "And Mark is probably going to kill me, or something."
"Naw," Macy disagreed, "he wouldn't do that."
"How's the internship coming?" Kristin asked, changing the subject.
"Okay," Macy said. "It's not really coming, but we haven't gone backwards any. And the guy says I have a good chance of a promotion." Kris smiled as she pulled the leggings on. They were more like cotton capris, and she had seen worse. But they were tight.
Kris opened the door and stepped out, carrying her jeans and sweatshirt and shoes. Macy looked her up and down, grimaced, and led her towards the storage lockers.
"You don't have the better deal of this," she stated as Kris shoved her stuff in the cube foot of space with her name on it. The floor was cold on her bare feet as Kris slammed the door of the locker and walked with Macy back towards the costume area.
"Oh well," she sighed. "I'll see you when I get back - hopefully."
"How long?" Macy asked.
"Ten hours here. About a month there. Unless something happens." Macy's mouth fell open.
"A month?" She laughed. "Good luck with it. Don't fall in love."
"I don't plan too," Kristin said, smiling. "Mark told me the same thing.
"He still unattached?"
"Don't worry Macy, his heart will always be yours," Kris said with a smile as she walked back to join Johnny and Maurice. She turned and waved halfway there. "See ya in ten." Macy waved back.
"See ya in ten," she replied, sticking her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and walking back towards a busy section of the building, back to work.
Johnny was holding a knap-sack, a pack like in…Lord of the Rings. He held it out toward Kristin as she walked up to him. She took it, looking inside.
"Sorry about the shoe situation," Johnny said, handing her a pair of sandals. "We just had these brought over from the Egypt stand." Maurice grabbed the pack from Kris as she sat down to pull the sandals on. They were confusing, all straps. It took her a minute or two to figure them out before she could stand up. Maurice and Johnny instantly started walking out of the costume area, towards the halls again. Kris followed, feeling stupid in her new outfit.
In a few minutes, they were back at her pad, in sector ten, also known as the experienced sector. Contrary to Kristin's hopes that Dwain had somehow returned over the past half hour, he was still gone. He looked as if he was sleeping - entirely lost in dreams. No movement except for the rise and fall of his chest. Kris glanced at him as she laid down on her own pad.
Rectangular shaped, the pads were comfortable, like a very squishy couch that made sure you would never get uncomfortable.
Maurice pushed Kris down in the pad when she sat for a moment, looking at Dwain. She hadn't know him before he had left - she had no clue about the man she going to look for.
"Stay calm," Johnny instructed. "Never panic. I'll be here the whole time, unless something happens. I'll observe you myself." Johnny moved to stand by Maurice.
"You'll be okay, kid." Maurice said. "Do you want these now?" he asked, holding up a sheath. It was a two shoulder straps, a sword on each side. Grinning, Kris sat up and pulled one out - it was a long, thin knife more than a sword. It was engraved with small figures - runes. Elvish runes, or something.
"You guys really did the works," she said, sliding the sword back into the sheath. "I'll take them now."
"You'll find the pack when you get to shore," Johnny said. "I've added it to the network programming since I can't change yours, but be aware that if you don't find it at the right time, it won't be there. Keep it near when you do find it - there's a bow and arrows with the pack." Kris slid into the harness for the sheaths. It fit perfectly, no discomfort. Grinning again, she reached up and pulled a knife out. It slid out smoothly, perfectly.
"They fit you well," Maurice said, serious for a moment. Shaking off a feeling of déjà vu, Kris nodded absentmindedly. She felt like she'd used the knives before, but in trying to remember when or where, the memory got foggy. Johnny leaned forward and attached a wire to the left side of her forehead, then another to her right.
"Put the swords away," he said, "and lay down." Kris slid the knife back in its sheath and leaned back. Maurice reached over her to the computer side of the pad.
"Hey, watch the space," Kris said as he put one elbow on her stomach, his other hand pressing buttons on the control panel. He glanced down at her.
"Don't be such a baby," he said, before completing his work. He stood up. "She's ready," he told Johnny. Kris felt the programming network kicking in. All she had to do now was close her eyes.
"Be careful," Johnny advised her. "Especially around the warriors - they are touchy-feely. And remember what I said about Achilles." Maurice smiled and laid a hand on her forehead. It was warm, heavy.
"Kid, you better come back in ten hours. Dwain was only gonna be for six." Kris looked up at him, alarmed, her dreamy eyes clearing for a moment. "Yeah, it's okay," Maurice soothed. He moved his
hand back, over her head. "Just be careful." Kris nodded, looked at Johnny and Maurice one last time, and closed her eyes.