Chapter 14: A Time To Share
The hum of the engines was lulling Sara to sleep. She had taken her turn on watch by Jesse's bedside an hour ago, and the combination of late nights, early mornings and inaction was taking its toll. She blinked her eyes wide and shook her head. This was not how a highly trained assassin kept watch.
"Here," murmured a soft voice beside her.
Sara blinked again and looked round. Rip was leaning against the doorframe, a mug in his outstretched hand. She hadn't heard him approach. That was bad. She must be really off her game. She always heard him when she was the first to turn up in his office every night. When she wasn't, he never heard her.
"If there's whisky in there," began Sara, looking from his face to the mug and back again with raised brows, "I congratulate your ingenuity, but I think you're taking this trying not to drink alone thing of ours to a new extreme. Plus you only brought one mug, and I know my day wasn't all that bad. Yours on the other hand..."
"It's not whisky," he assured her, stepping closer and lowering the mug. "That really would be a bad idea if you're trying to stay alert."
She looked at the mug, cautiously leaning over to examine its contents. It looked like hot chocolate. It didn't smell like it.
"If I'm trying to stay awake," Sara muttered, glancing up with one suspicious eyebrow raised. "A mug of cocoa isn't my first thought for how to do that."
"Actually, in point of fact, it's hot chocolate, not cocoa," mused Rip, peering down critically at the contents of the mug. "There is a difference."
Sara tipped her head to the side and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"Just try it," sighed the Captain, a lopsided smile doing nothing to calm Sara's suspicions. "It was for me, but you look like you could use it more. I can easily ask Gideon to fabricate me another one. It's what you might call an 'old fashioned' recipe. If it puts you to sleep, I promise I'll cover the rest of your watch."
Sara took the mug. The scents of spices filled her nostrils. It did wake her up a little, she thought. "Straight from the recipe books of the Mayans?"
"Hmm, not quite that far back," grinned Rip.
If the smile had made her suspicious, the grin definitely wasn't helping, but now she was curious. She took a sip. Her eyebrows went up. "That has quite a kick to it. What exactly did you put in this?"
Rip let out a small laugh. "I think the 'kick' you're referring to is the chilli, but there are other spices. Cinnamon, cardamom, star anise, orange zest. Of course, if you don't like it..."
"No, no," replied Sara, passing the mug into her other hand, holding it away from Rip. "I did not say that. I just wondered where, or maybe when, it came from."
"I came across it in the court of Charles the first," said Rip, looking down at his feet in a vain attempt to hide another rare grin. "One of a few forgotten recipes that I've added to Gideon's fabrication system."
"You need to teach me that trick," laughed Sara, sipping the drink again. "I mean: Mick's some cook, but his range is kinda limited. I know some great Thai recipes."
"Mr Rory does not have a monopoly on cooking for the team, you know, Miss Lance," Rip teased, his eyes lingering thoughtfully on the unconscious speedster across the room.
"Hah! No," Sara retorted, waving a hand in emphasis. "I said I knew some great recipes. I did not say I could make them! Me and kitchens. Not a good mix."
"I'll bear it in mind," replied the Captain, his voice beginning to take on that distracted quality that Sara had come to recognise.
"Something on yours?" Sara asked, looking up at him, her hands wrapped around the mug again.
"Hmm?" Rip looked round. He saw the look on Sara's face and decided against equivocation. "I was just thinking about something Rex said, before he vanished. About how we found him. He said we were almost all there, but 'Amaya had to stay and look after Jesse'."
"And now we have a 'Jesse' onboard who needs looking after," mused Sara. She nodded. "Makes sense. What else did he tell you?"
"About events leading up to us finding him, not a lot," admitted Rip. "Enough for me to find him though, when the time is right. About exactly how we met and recruited him on the other hand..."
"Really?" Sara's eyebrows went up. "That's unusual, isn't it? I thought it was dangerous to know too much about your future?"
"Apparently this future is one he wants to make sure actually happens," shrugged the Captain. "Presumably to make sure he joins us, although..." He shuffled his feet uncomfortably for a moment then looked back to Sara to find her watching him with an amused expression on her face. "What?"
"I was just about to ask you the same thing," she replied.
XXXX
The two men slipped silently through the temple corridors, bare feet padding along under brown peasant robes. Soon the public courtyard opened up before them, but instead of heading for the high, well guarded walls of the pylon, they stole through the colonnade along the edge of the open space to a narrow hidden doorway behind a statue. Meryatum led the way through a deep, dank, narrow tunnel that dragged on until Leonard thought he might drown in the damp darkness. Finally, a breath of fresh air caressed their faces and the tunnel came to a sudden stop. Meryatum felt along the wall in the darkness and there was a soft click. The blackness in front of them became less solid, and Leonard Snart stepped out into the Egyptian night.
The lights of the town were few. Marking out the taverns and guardhouses, most likely, Leonard thought. He pointed to a broad patch of darkness.
"What's over there?" Leonard whispered in his royal valet's ear.
"Nothing of interest, my Lord," replied the prince. "Only the houses of the poor."
"Then that's where we start," nodded the thief. "And Merry: if you ever end up Pharaoh promise me this. The poor must never be below your interest. Nobody should."
The houses were tiny: cramped together like sardines in a can. There could barely have been enough room for one person in each of them, let alone families. Together they prowled the streets, ducking under low, overhanging upper storeys, dodging around the somnolent limbs of the poorest of the poor. Finally a movement caught Leonard's eye and he stilled his companion with a flick of his hand. In the silence a young voice drifted back to them.
"You must eat, Raia," urged the piping tones of Chey-Ara. "You need your strength."
The reply was so weak it was almost inaudible. Leonard couldn't make out the words, but he knew there had at least been some. He waved at Meryatum to follow, quietly, and picked his way down the narrow street. He waved his faithful shadow to a stop a few feet away from the girls and padded silently forward alone. When his hand fell on Chey-Ara's shoulder, the girl spun out of his grasp and was standing between him and her companion in a heartbeat, a knife in her hand.
"Don't be afraid, little bird," he drawled, rising to his full height, and out of the shadow of the overhanging roof. "I come in peace."
Chey-Ara dropped her gaze and fell to her knees. "My Lord Herakhty."
"Now," sighed Leonard, sinking back down into the shadows. "Who do we have here?"
XXXX
"Captain Hunter," chimed Gideon's voice from above. "I have picked up a distress call. It appears to be coming from a small vessel adrift in the timestream."
Rip, who had sat up in his armchair at the sound of the AI's voice, frowned. "In the timestream? In the actual timestream, Gideon?"
"Yes, Captain," replied Gideon. "The call does appear to be from a Time Master vessel, however I must remind you that many of these were seen at the Pirate Station we have recently left, and the residents there will surely be aware of their losses by now."
"Thank you, Gideon, I had thought of that," replied Rip, getting to his feet and heading over to the holotable. He peered down at the schematics of the vessel. It resembled the Waverider's jump ship. "Take us to it, Gideon. Alert Mr Rory, Doctor Palmer and Miss Lance, please."
"And Captain Baxter?" Gideon enquired.
"Might as well," he shrugged. "She'll kill me if I fly her into another trap without at least telling her first."
XXXX
The journey back to the palace had been uneventful. The guards on Chey-Ara's door were the only ones to see them return, but if either of them had anything to say about the Messenger of Horus carrying a stick thin child into the bedroom of the Chosen Child at the first light of dawn, they kept it to themselves. Chey-Ara and Meryatum followed Leonard into the room and watched him lay Raia down on the bed.
"Merry, get me a healer. The best you know," ordered Leonard. "Chey-Ara, pour a cup of that beer and bring it over."
The prince disappeared and the girl did as she was bidden. Leonard took the cup and held it to Raia's lips. It wasn't beer in the same sense as he knew it, it was far weaker than that, but it was strong enough to kill the pathogens that often lurked in the water. Not that the locals knew that. They just knew it was less likely to kill you.
Leonard let the frail child rest on the white linen covers of Chey-Ara's bed. She was famished and dehydrated, and he wasn't entirely sure she would last a day even with all the help he could give her. He had to try, though, for Chey-Ara's sake. Raia was her little sister, after all.
XXXX
Captain Eve Baxter looked down at the display on the holotable and laughed. "It's not a trap."
"How can you tell?" Rip frowned, annoyed he couldn't.
"I know the vessel," shrugged Eve. "There's no way its captain would have anything to do with the Time Pirates, and there is no way it would be sending that precise code without her collaboration."
"Again..." Rip began.
"It's a modified Time Master distress code," Eve pointed out.
Rip nodded. "I spotted the Time Master bit. I just assumed the changes were something added after my... departure."
"Not quite," Eve smiled. "You didn't know this particular Time Captain, but I did. We were friends, you might say. She was one of the few recruited later in life. She was rescued by a young, impressionable Time Captain who was just a little bit star struck at the time. She bought into the idea of protecting the timeline, like we all did, and decided to join us. She went through basic training and was paired up with a slightly more experienced Time Captain for a while before being given her own ship. That Time Captain was me. We discussed many tactical scenarios, particularly those that bore some resemblance to the situation she was found in. One of the strategies we came up with is the one she is using here. Gideon, separate the standard Time Master distress code from the modifications. You should find the modifications themselves interesting."
Mick, Ray and Captain Baxter waited patiently while the AI ran its analysis. Rip looked from the holotable readouts to the ceiling and back with baffled impatience.
"I believe the modifications alone provide a set of co-ordinates, Captains," stated Gideon, diplomatically. "Shall I input them?"
"Yes," replied Eve and Rip together. The former smiled apologetically at the latter and waved a hand at the pilot's seat.
Rip paused on his way up to the chair and tapped his comms. "Miss Lance, you may want to make sure you and the patient are secure: we're about to jump."
"Where're we going now, Rip?" Sara's slightly disgruntled voice echoed back through their earpieces.
"We're on the trail of a crashed Electra," answered Eve from the passenger chair she was locking herself into.
In the chair next to her, Ray raised a hand. "Wait, wasn't that..."
The ship jumped.