STEALING EDEN, PART TWO
When Spike Thomson awoke on "The Morning After"--as it would always be called whenever it was discussed--his first reaction was to see if he'd dreamed Lynda Day. No, it was no dream. He still smelled the smoke of her singed clothes; very strongly he thought. He looked at the clock, which said it was just turning 6:30. He could hear Lynda's voice in the background.
"Mum, it's me. Mum, stop screaming. I'm fine. Mum, don't believe anything you hear about me being dead. Yes, I know. I know they said nobody could get out. Its a long story. Say, I need you to do a favor for me. I got as far as Spike's, and I remembered I lost my keys to the apartment in the fire. I'm going to need some clothes and stuff. Yeah, bring it over here. I've got a surprise to tell you, too. No, you come here. I'll have to tell you in person. Trust me. I love you, too."
Spike got out of bed and wandered out into the next room. Lynda had gotten as far as getting a shower, and she was wearing one of his bathrobes and still dripping a little water on the carpeting. The coffee pot had been turned on and Lynda had tried to make some toast, but had burned it rather badly. Lynda hadn't heard him at first, and was only aware of his presence when she suddenly felt him embracing her from behind. She allowed herself a warm smile, opened her mouth to speak, and then changed her mind. Let Spike have the honors, she thought.
"I had the most amazing dream," Spike began.
"Really?" Lynda asked coyly.
"I dreamed that Lynda Day was standing in my kitchen wearing only a bathrobe and burning my toast."
"I was on the phone listening to my mother scream a lot. I forgot."
"You're so beautiful, Lynda. Did you really propose to me last night?"
"Crazy, wasn't I?"
"I'll let you take it back if you want to," he said.
There was silence. Spike held his breath. Lynda held hers. Now or never, she thought.
Spike let go of her. In that instant, Lynda viewed a universe of options and possibilities flash before her and made her decision. "To think when I met you, I hated you."
"Shallow, show-off American," Spike quoted from memory.
"You left out lame-brained," Lynda replied with a smile.
"And now we're here," Spike said.
"Yes, we are." Lynda looked at her watch and smiled. "This is all going to seem strange when the rest of the news team shows up and I have to go back to being Vampira again. Kenny was right. Being nice does grow on you."
"Then don't go back, Lynda. Be someone different now that you've had a second chance."
"I am the editor of the Junior Gazette, and I have a newspaper to run. I can't be 'nice' and successful." She paused for a moment and looked at her watch again."
"Are you expecting someone, Lynda?"
"Yes," she said. Then she pushed Spike up against a wall and kissed him. Hard.
From somewhere in the background came the opening of a door . "Spike?" the voice called out. "Are you okay? The door was open and I....." The voice stopped and a loud thud was heard. Lynda ended the kiss and walked over to where Sarah Jackson had fainted in the middle of the room.
"Nice to see you again, Sarah," she said. "Have you met my fiancé, Spike?"
"Don't you think you should do something here, Lynda?" Spike asked as he walked over to join her.
"Find a good hiding place for that book of mine," she chuckled. "This is too much fun to be legal."
Someone half a universe away agreed and picked up a phone.
The crowd in Spike's apartment had grown by two members. Sarah was sitting in a chair being fussed over by Lynda's mother. Spike was watching the morning news on a small television set, drinking a cup of coffee and glancing from time to time at Lynda, who was on the phone scaring people, and enjoying it. Though her mother had brought some clothes along, she still had not changed from Spike's bathrobe.
"Mr. Kerr," she purred. "I read in the paper this morning that I had died. That was very silly of you wasn't it?" With great flourish, she hit the speakerphone button and Kerr's voice filled the room.
"Lynda....." he stammered. "How did you get...."
"Out? If a gunman can sneak out of the building---If Colin Matthews can get out of the building without anybody knowing it, why can't I do the same thing? Sloppy, Matt. Very sloppy."
"Why didn't you get in touch with someone?" he asked angrily. "Some kind of publicity stunt to sell papers? Let everyone think you're dead and then show up at your funeral?"
"What a great idea," she dead-panned. "Here's another one. You're going to see to it that we get whatever we need to get the next edition of the Junior Gazette out and on time or I'll sue you and Bobby Campbell from here to the moon and back by lunch time. I'll see you this afternoon to set up the details."
"But Lynda...." Kerr's reply was cut off when Lynda slammed the phone down.
"I've always wanted to hang up on him," she said to no one in particular. She walked over to Sarah and knelt down beside her. "I wasn't aware I had such a powerful effect on people."
"Sorry," Sarah mumbled. "Haven't gotten used to meeting dead people yet." Sarah looked over at Spike. "I could have sworn you said she was dead, Spike. If you two were in on this to trick me...
"Shhhh," Mrs. Day told her. "Talking will make you feel worse. Drink your tea." She turned to Lynda. Spike caught a glimmer in Lynda's eye.
"Uh, this might not be the right time, Lynda..." he began.
"Nonsense. It's as good a time as any, and I have to get back on the phone. I asked Spike to marry me, and he said yes."
Sarah choked on her tea. Mrs. Day looked at Lynda and smiled. "The Spike Thomson? The Spike Thomson who you said was a lousy, two-timing, no- account jerk you wanted to torture and kill?"
"That's not true!" she said with mock indignation. "I used at least three expletives in that sentence." She looked distracted for a moment. "Spike, are you taping the news for me?"
"Yes, Lynda," came the exaggeratedly disinterested reply.
"Anything interesting?"
"Somebody broke Sophie and Laura out of prison. Trains are late out of Norbridge station. Campbell Media's facing a possible hostile takeover. You're dead."
"I am? Just checking. I want to gloat later, when I have time."
"You proposed to Spike?" Sarah asked. "I'd pictured it as happening the other way around."
"He looked about like you do after I did it. I decided I didn't want to lose Spike....I saw a glimpse of what life would be like in the future. Something told me it had to be this way, so I did it and I'll see to it that Spike Thomson never leaves me again."
"Nor will I," piped up the fiancé ,"If you keep wearing that bathrobe around the house."
"Should I quit shaving my legs, Mum? I think he's staring at them."
"I guess I don't have to jump out of windows when people come around now, huh?" Spike and Lynda's mum shared a conspiratorial glance. Lynda and Sarah were smiling, too.
"Enough happiness for one morning," Lynda suddenly said. "Time to get the team together."
Colin Matthews was a wreck. He had not slept at all, nor had he shaved. Sometime during the early morning, he had left his apartment and gone down to the burned out remains of the Junior Gazette building. There he stood, watching the steam rise from the ashes and the water drip from the burned out superstructure. Four years of his life, gone, soon to be followed with his soul, which a demon bearing Lynda's visage had come to him and claimed during the night. "Buy your way out of this one, salesman," he said to himself. As the morning went on, he was no longer alone. Polly, one of the newer hires to the staff, came by. She had only just begun working there, and seemed to be a little shocked to have it all end so suddenly. Tiddler and Kate arrived soon after. Nobody knew where Julie was--she wasn't home or wasn't answering. Frazz and Kevin were shooting pictures and doing interviews at the scene. Jane, Martin, and Jeff had only just come by. Everyone stood and talked amongst themselves, pondering the mysterious phone calls they had received summoning them here. Except for Colin, that is, who was barely noticed by the others, and seemed to be inhabiting his own little personal Hell that no one wanted to intrude upon.
A taxi pulled up to the site, and Spike and Sarah emerged from it. The crowd quickly flocked to them, excited to see Sarah and expressing their concerns about Spike's well-being and his grief. After listening to the babble for a bit, he raised his hand, cleared his throat, and made an announcement."
"Everybody, I want you to know I'm okay. In fact, when I looked in the mirror this morning, something absolutely amazing was staring back at me." The crowd murmured nervously. Sarah smiled. "Not me," he chuckled. "Her." He pointed at the taxi.
Lynda was getting out. She'd gone through the pile of clothes her mother had brought and managed to find the worst possible combination to wear. "For old time's sake," she'd said at the time. Now she looked at her team, or what there was of it. "Emergency staff meeting, 1 PM at the main Gazette building," she shouted. "Does anybody know where Julie is?"
Nobody seemed very interested in that. Those who were there were too busy running over to greet her. Kate gave her a hug, which Lynda seemed surprised by, but accepted. Everyone was asking a million things, and Lynda gave up trying to get anything done. She was surprised by what she saw. As much fighting as she had done with these same people, they had all been through a lot together and Lynda only now understood that she meant something to them. Lynda knew where Julie was, and was preparing to deal with that in good time. Colin had slipped away, and Lynda wondered where.
"She's going to be very unhappy when she finds out you didn't renew the insurance policy, Colin," a voice whispered in his ear. "I think we should have a little chat about that, don't you?"
Colin whirled around to find himself staring at three people dressed in some kind of military uniforms. United States Army, he guessed, as the uniforms weren't British, and the speaker's voice had a distinctly American accent. The voice was a man's, and a young man--surely no older than Colin himself--stood in the middle of two women, who each had a small green object strapped to their belts.. Two women who looked a lot like....
"Sophie and Laura," he barely could whisper.
"Shouldn't have sold us down the river," Laura said. She pulled a gun from inside her uniform and pointed at him, as did Sophie.
"That's enough, you two," the man said sharply. "Put those away. Broad daylight--do you think this is America?" The two women did as he asked. "Now, Colin," he continued. "You've seen my associates don't like you. But you are a man of business, as am I, and I'm going to make an offer you can't refuse."
"I don't seem to have much choice," Colin said glumly.
"Oh, no. You'd take this deal in a minute, guns or no guns. It is just a matter of, um, formalizing our position. Let's all pop off for a quick bite to eat and discuss the matter."
They walked down the street and entered the newly re-opened Czar's, found an empty table and sat down. Colin sat on one side of the booth, while the three strangers sat on the other. "Don't you think it is sort of obvious sitting down in a restaurant with two escaped criminals?" Colin whispered across the table.
"Seeing isn't always believing. I have a little parlor trick of my own going. You'd be able to sell a million of them if they ever become declassified. Only you can see their real appearance, and that is because I allow you to. Your editor used something along the same lines to scare you last night"
"How do you know all this?"
"I have good contacts. I read a lot. So does your friend Lynda, and that's rather a big problem for my employers."
Colin felt himself warming to the topic. "Employers?"
"Employers," the man repeated. "You sold her out to the Sherrington Herald. Perhaps you'd like to help us--in exchange for us saving your lousy butt on a fraud charge."
"Fraud? I'll have you know that I am an honest..."
"Stuff it, Colin," Sophie said. "You sold out-of-date food to nursing homes and defective prams to expectant mothers. Why should pocketing the Gazette's insurance money be out of character for you?"
"I'm hurt that you don't trust me after all the fun things we mates did," Colin began.
From under the table, two clicks were heard simultaneously. Both Sophie and Laura had cocked their weapons, and the man in the middle grunted. "You're not selling, Matthews."
"I see that," Colin said nervously.
"Here's the deal. I have in my pocket a check for four million pounds, payable to the Junior Gazette. That will make a nice insurance settlement, and doubtless some extra pocket money to ensure you cooperate with us when we need you. Nobody has to know you spent the insurance money. And you certainly aren't going to make that mistake again, are you?" Colin nodded his head.
"We understand each other. In a very short time, Bobby Campbell is going to be forced to sell the Junior Gazette to me. I am going to take a keen interest in the Junior Gazette and in its editor, Miss Day. Good day, Colin. I know you will do the right thing."
"Or else," Sophie and Laura said in unison, giving their joint cute- little-girl smiles which looked rather misplaced on not-so-little girls.
"This is a first," Kate said to herself. "Lynda Day late for her own staff meeting."
"Yeah, who wants to suggest she dock her own pay?" Tiddler replied. "Spike?"
"I'm waiting to see if she really does sleep in a casket first," Spike chimed in.
"I'm sure she does," sputtered Julie. "Do you know what she did? Poured a bucket of cold water over my head to wake me up. Picked the damn lock on my apartment door to do it, too."
"Where were you, anyway?" Spike asked. "Lynda was trying to get in touch with you this morning."
"I must not have heard the phone," Julie said evasively.
"Lynda picks locks now?" Tiddler asked. "Where did she learn how to do that?"
"Must have read it someplace," Lynda said, breezing through the room and inserting herself into the conversation at the opportune moment. "Quiet!" she yelled.
The room took a few moments to quiet down. By now, most all of the Junior Gazette staff had made it to the offices of the senior Gazette building. Word was getting around that Lynda had not died, and Bobby Campbell hastily arranged a news conference to break the news officially. Lynda had taken no questions and offered no explanations publicly. She had just run up the stairs from the press conference to hold her meeting, with Matt Kerr in tow.
"Matt, you wanted to make a few remarks?" she asked him.
"Yes, thank you, Lynda." He paused to collect his thoughts. "First, it is good to have you back from the dead...." He was interrupted by a round of applause, which Spike was prominently leading. "The next few editions of the Junior Gazette are going to be handled from this building. We'll find some space for you somewhere, and you'll have access to our facilities to get the job done. This will be a down-sized version of the Junior Gazette--we don't have the facilities to run two papers here, and until you can get a deal of your own worked out for temporary facilities of your own, that is how it will remain. Finally, I cannot promise you there will continue to be a Junior Gazette. That's something you'll have to take up with whomever winds up in control of Campbell Media Enterprises...."
The rest of his words were drowned out in a chorus of shouts and groans. Lynda shouted everyone down and asked a question of her own. "Who is buying Bobby out?"
"My understanding is that a group of American investors is. Something called the Marriner Group. I'm not familiar with them." Kerr said. "We're checking on that."
"So will we," Lynda said testily. "Kate, get Billy Homer on the phone and get him working on it." Kate was up and out of the chair before Lynda could finish the sentence. Good old Kate--always reliable. Colin, on the other hand, looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.
"Colin, I want to hear how you're going to have the insurance company contacted today. We're going to need the settlement money s soon as possible." Lynda said. "You did pay the bill, right?"
"Um, that's sort of complicated." Colin stammered. "Something has come up...."
Spike grabbed Lynda, who was already beginning to tense up. "Colin," he said, "What has come up?"
"The settlement has been made. The money is already in our account."
"Then what's the problem?" Spike asked.
"The Marriner Group paid the settlement."
"What happened to our insurance company?" Lynda asked.
"A small cashflow problem. I was meaning to pay the bill, but then...."
"Colin," Lynda screamed. "You idiot! You've just sold the whole damn paper!"
"I didn't have a choice...."
"How much, Colin. What were we worth to you this time?"
"They gave me four million pounds for the building. I assume some of that was to cover incidental expenses, too. Cost of doing business and the like."
"How much of it have you spent, lodged, or invested so far?" Lynda asked sarcastically..
"I am shocked that you would even suggest such a thing," Colin yelped. "Don't you know me better than that?" A roomful of eyes rolled at this, and Lynda threw up her hands in disgust.
"Speaking of sellouts, where is my assistant editor?" Lynda spat as she wandered over to stare down Julie, "You could have been out here giving orders this morning, getting the news team ready for this story. Instead you were passed out on your sofa. What the hell good are you in that state? Thank God Kevin had the gumption to get his camera down here to take some pictures or we would not even have anything to show for this. Thank God Frazz is out interviewing people. Maybe they ought to be sitting in Kenny's chair and not you. Kenny would never have spent the night--"
"You bitch," Julie sputtered, but Lynda cut her off.
"Just like the Gaz, Julie. You threw in with the wrong lot just to feather your own nest. You always do what's best for Julie Craig, not the paper. Consider yourself fired!"
"Lynda," Kerr shouted, "Have you lost your mind? For someone that was playing dead, you sure have a lot of ideas about what was supposed to be going on in your absence. How the hell are they supposed to know what to do when you make all the decisions for them?"
"They've had three days to get their act together, and look at them." Lynda suddenly stopped herself. Damn, I've messed that up.
"Three?" Kerr looked at her strangely. "The Junior Gazette building burned last night. What happened to you, Lynda?"
"That's, um, kind of hard to explain...."
"I don't think you're quite all here. Julie Craig was here at the Gazette all night helping us with background. Background on you, for the obituary we ran. You never read it, Lynda. You couldn't be bothered because you were feeling too damn superior to know how much people cared. Lynda, consider yourself relieved of duty indefinitely until you get yourself under control. Julie, you have control of the paper until I say otherwise."
"Thank you, Matt," she said triumphantly and glared at Lynda.
Lynda broke down and wept uncontrollably. Spike was at her side trying vainly to console her. Kerr and Julie glanced nervously at each other and just as quickly looked away. The rest of the room merely watched in sadness and horror as the most powerful personality they had ever met dissolved before their eyes.
Sarah had stopped home to see her parents briefly after leaving Spike's that morning. She didn't bother going to the news team meeting, and felt a little strange at not being invited. She reminded herself that the Junior Gazette was in her past now; and that afternoon, she caught the train to return to college in London. This was an unusual voyage, as some dignitary or other had arranged for an extra car to be added to the train for personal use. This had confused the stationmaster, who wasn't used to dignitaries or extra cars fouling up his schedule. Sarah heard some rumblings about it mentioned by the passengers waiting at the station, but passed it off as not her concern. A limousine had pulled up at the station, and a group of three military officers emerged, greeted by the stationmaster. Old Burgess McFadden had been in the British Army before leaving to become station master, and he briskly saluted the soldiers as they exited the car. The lead officer saluted in return and briskly shook Burgess' hand. Sarah noted the three soldiers--a man and two women--were quite young and didn't seem to look just right for military roles-- something odd about them. Then one of the female soldiers happened to glance at her; and in an instant, recognition passed between the two. Laura Wilmot, Colin's young helper from their days in school, waved to Sarah, and tapped the other girl on the shoulder and pointed in Sarah's direction. The other girl smiled and waved--Sophie Jenkins, the other member of the unholy trio. When the senior officer inquired what was going on, the girls whispered something to him and pointed in her direction. The officer motioned for Sarah to join them, and she did, more out of curiosity than anything else.
"This is a surprise. I've heard a lot about you, Sarah."
"You have me at a disadvantage, sir. I know your companions, but I've never met you."
"Silly me," the man said. "Lt. Col. Paul Marriner, United States Army liaison, United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. Bound for London?" Sarah nodded. "Why don't you join us in the private car? Sophie and Laura seem to want to catch up on old times...."
"Why not?" My lucky day, Sarah thought.
They boarded the train. The coach was opulently decorated and seemed very spacious for a railroad car. The stationmaster stuck his nose in the car and said there had been a message arrive for him. Marriner invited the stationmaster in and bade him to sit down while he looked over the message.
"I thought you were going to fly us back to London, Colonel?" Laura asked.
"We'll fly soon enough, you two. Last I checked, they hadn't put in an underground from London to New York." He finished the message, quickly scrawled a reply on the back, and handed it to the stationmaster, who smartly saluted and left the car. Marriner closed the door to the car.
"This might be of interest to you, Sarah. I understand Lynda Day has been relieved of duty as editor of the Junior Gazette."
"What?" Sarah thought a moment. "How on earth would you know that, and why would you care?"
"I did say I worked for an "intelligence" taskforce. Knowing things is my business. I also have a large fortune which I have to squander in order for it to remain manageable, and hence I like to buy things."
"Like Campbell's media holdings, you mean?" Sarah smelled a story falling into her lap.
"Right first time. Care for a drink?" Sarah shook her head no. "I don't either, but I do keep a stock for entertaining. Guests, not staff."
From the background, a pair of voices whined "Oh, come on! You never let us have any fun."
"I do not need a pair of drunken sixteen year old escaped convicts serving as guards. I'm paying you well, and if you wish to get plastered, do it when you aren't on duty."
"Yes, about that," Sarah interjected. "They're supposed to be in jail. Why are they working for you?"
"Intelligence, my dear Sarah. They know the Gazette operations, they know the personnel, they know the area, and they were framed in the first place. Call it combining necessity and justice if you please."
"We did a story on them. They were arrested along with a bunch of bikers at a warehouse fire a year ago. The verdict was arson to cover up a stolen auto parts chop shop."
Sophie and Laura wandered over and joined the conversation. "Colin was buying cut rate parts from these guys," Laura said. "We were supposed to pick them up."
"Only they were stolen," Sophie said bitterly,. "and the warehouse was a front for some other activities."
"And that's why..." Laura was about to say something, but a quick glance from Marriner shut her up.
"Classified, sorry." Marriner said apologetically. "My associates tend to get carried away. Youthful inexperience. Another of my acquaintances had a hand in that explosion, but alas Miss McShane never got around to bailing Sophie and Laura out. I shall have to remind Dorothy of that someday."
"Whenever she has the time," Sophie grumbled, and she and Laura left to go to an adjoining room.
The train gave a jerk as it began to leave the station. Sarah sat down on a large royal blue sofa and took in her surroundings. She noticed a large portrait on the wall--a young blonde woman in a beautiful wedding dress.
"My late wife," Marriner said simply.
"I'm sorry," Sarah said. "She was very beautiful."
"Yes, she was." Marriner looked wistfully at the portrait. "Her name was Jennifer, and we married in high school. She was nineteen when she died, and there hasn't been a day since then that I haven't thought of her and cried at least a little."
Sarah wasn't sure what to say. "Was she ill?"
"Murdered."
"Oh," she said quietly. "I'm not doing very well in this conversation, am I?"
"Could anybody, Sarah?"
The two of them sat beside one another and didn't say a word for some time. After a while, Marriner closed his eyes and fell asleep. Sarah just sat there and watched him.
Spike had called a taxi and taken Lynda home with him. He didn't trust her to be alone in her current state, and she had put up no fuss. She had said little all morning, and seemed to be just barely keeping herself together during that time. Tiddler had called asking about Lynda, and Spike had called Lynda's mother, who would soon be on her way over.
In a way Spike would always think of as eerie, Lynda suddenly switched herself back on before his eyes, got up out of the chair she'd been slumped in and began pacing.
"That didn't go according to the book," she muttered. "Julie's lying."
"Lynda, let it be. Kerr said she was at the Gazette. Anyway, how would you know?"
Lynda shook her head. "Spike, you have to trust me. You don't show up with a biography from your own future without having a little something unusual to tell. I know things I'm not supposed to know."
"You're not making sense, Lynda. What happened to you?"
"You'll never believe me, Spike. You think I'm crazy now."
"Tell me, Lynda. But this had better be good."
She did, and it was.
"What are they doing, Laura?"
"He's asleep. She's on the sofa watching him," Sophie said.
"Still? I'd have thought she'd try to phone the newsroom by now. She's going to spoil the game if she sits there mooning over him."
"I guess we move things along then, Laura." Sophie walked over to the bar and started pouring herself a drink, rattling the ice cubes.
Sarah's ears perked up and she turned to see what was going on. "I thought he told you no booze?" she whispered.
"He's asleep, so what he doesn't know won't hurt him any." Sophie said.
"Where did you two sneak off to, anyway?"
Sophie and Laura exchanged glances and muffled giggles. Sarah raised her eyebrows and decided she really didn't want to know. Some things never changed in that respect.
"What do you think of him, Sarah," Laura asked with a twinkle in her eye.
"I don't know. I've only just met him."
"We saw you watching him sleep. We sort of thought...." Laura began.
"...And he is kind of cute," Sophie chimed in.
"...And single." Laura finished.
Sarah smiled a little, almost in spite of herself. "I suspect Mr. Marriner has a lot more on his mind than me. After all, I'm only here because you two know me."
"Like we care about you!" Sophie chuckled. "You're here because he wants you here. He knew you'd never come on board with a stranger, so we played along."
"Why me, Sophie? I'm just Sarah Jackson, university student."
"But a damn good reporter," Sophie said.
"Loyal to a fault," Laura added. "and smart where and when it counts."
"Could be a job opportunity here for you, Sarah." Sophie said.
"Or a relationship," Laura smiled. "Or maybe even a story."
"Yeah, could be, I suppose," Sarah said, clearly warming to the idea. "But I've got the university to contend with. I can't just pick up and go chasing off after something he hasn't even offered me yet."
"Then we need to get him to offer you a deal. Once he does that, he'll have the university begging him to take you on any terms you offer. They might even give you an honorary doctorate or something." Laura said.
"Universities don't work that way, Laura," Sarah reminded her.
"Maybe you're not as smart as I thought. You can buy anyone or anything for the right price. Colin taught us that, and Marriner's just better at it than anyone else in the whole world."
"Should we tell her?" Sophie asked Laura.
"Why not? No skin off our backs, just don't say where you heard this. "He's got an honorary commission from the Army. He's no more a soldier than we are, but he gives the Pentagon an invention or two to play with, helps fix the occasional alien life form problem when needed, and spends the rest of his time wandering aimlessly now that his wife is dead."
"Alien life form," Sarah repeated the words slowly.
"United Nations Intelligence Taskforce," Sophie said. "Very secretive lot. Deal with any monsters that come calling, that sort of thing."
"How secretive can they be if you two know about them?"
"We're bodyguards," Laura said simply. "If any monsters come around, we're the ones with the guns."
"And have you seen any aliens," Sarah asked them skeptically.
Sophie and Laura looked at each other and smiled. "Yes," they said in unison. "So has Lynda Day. You might want to ask her about it sometime."
"Marriner certainly wants to." Sophie added, and finished her drink.
"I don't believe either of you. This sounds like something Colin would dream up. Like the time you and he were running around dressed like space turtles...."
"Eeeew! Bad memory!" Laura made a silly face.
"Horrible," Sophie replied.
"People don't just come back from the dead on a lark, Sarah," Laura said. "If Lynda did, maybe she had a little help?"
Sarah looked troubled. There was something very wrong with the picture being painted for her. Was it the picture that was phony, or was it her conception of reality? "How do you know all this, you two? Marriner just got you out of jail, you can't possibly know everything there is to know about him in an afternoon. If he is a secret agent, he wouldn't go blabbing all that stuff to you."
"Oh, we've been with him longer than an afternoon, wouldn't you say Sophie?"
"Several months, I would say."
"But that's not possible if you were still in jail yesterday."
Sophie smiled. "Were we?"
Laura chuckled. "It is so hard to keep dates straight. What does the Colonel call that? Rela---"
"Relativity of time, I think," Sophie answered back.
At this point, the train juddered to a halt sharply. Sophie fell to the floor, dropping her drink as she fell. Laura flew backwards into Sarah, and Sarah fell over the top of the sofa, landing on top of Marriner and knocking them both on the floor of the car. Marriner groggily opened his eyes and looked at Sarah, who was lying on top of him.
"That's the first time I've gotten a wake-up call quite like that one," he said absent-mindedly.
"Just when I get one headache fixed, I get another one," Sarah muttered to herself.
"Me or the fall?"
"Sorry?"
Sophie and Laura had picked themselves up and come over to check on Marriner. When they saw the position Marriner and Sarah had landed in, they began snickering.
"Sarah!" Laura exclaimed. "And on a first date, too. Shame!!!!"
"What are you talking about?" Sarah asked, and then realized what they found funny. She looked at Paul, who was trying very hard not to laugh. She quickly got up, blushing noticeably.
"Okay, you two delinquents, why don't you go see what caused that little bump in the road and be useful for a change." Marriner smilingly ordered.
"I thought Sarah was the bump in the road," Laura chuckled.
Marriner threw a couch cushion at them. "Now!"
"Yes, sir!" They saluted and marched out of the car.
"Good help is so hard to find," he sighed.
"Is that an offer?" Sarah asked him.
"Could be," he said.
When Spike Thomson awoke on "The Morning After"--as it would always be called whenever it was discussed--his first reaction was to see if he'd dreamed Lynda Day. No, it was no dream. He still smelled the smoke of her singed clothes; very strongly he thought. He looked at the clock, which said it was just turning 6:30. He could hear Lynda's voice in the background.
"Mum, it's me. Mum, stop screaming. I'm fine. Mum, don't believe anything you hear about me being dead. Yes, I know. I know they said nobody could get out. Its a long story. Say, I need you to do a favor for me. I got as far as Spike's, and I remembered I lost my keys to the apartment in the fire. I'm going to need some clothes and stuff. Yeah, bring it over here. I've got a surprise to tell you, too. No, you come here. I'll have to tell you in person. Trust me. I love you, too."
Spike got out of bed and wandered out into the next room. Lynda had gotten as far as getting a shower, and she was wearing one of his bathrobes and still dripping a little water on the carpeting. The coffee pot had been turned on and Lynda had tried to make some toast, but had burned it rather badly. Lynda hadn't heard him at first, and was only aware of his presence when she suddenly felt him embracing her from behind. She allowed herself a warm smile, opened her mouth to speak, and then changed her mind. Let Spike have the honors, she thought.
"I had the most amazing dream," Spike began.
"Really?" Lynda asked coyly.
"I dreamed that Lynda Day was standing in my kitchen wearing only a bathrobe and burning my toast."
"I was on the phone listening to my mother scream a lot. I forgot."
"You're so beautiful, Lynda. Did you really propose to me last night?"
"Crazy, wasn't I?"
"I'll let you take it back if you want to," he said.
There was silence. Spike held his breath. Lynda held hers. Now or never, she thought.
Spike let go of her. In that instant, Lynda viewed a universe of options and possibilities flash before her and made her decision. "To think when I met you, I hated you."
"Shallow, show-off American," Spike quoted from memory.
"You left out lame-brained," Lynda replied with a smile.
"And now we're here," Spike said.
"Yes, we are." Lynda looked at her watch and smiled. "This is all going to seem strange when the rest of the news team shows up and I have to go back to being Vampira again. Kenny was right. Being nice does grow on you."
"Then don't go back, Lynda. Be someone different now that you've had a second chance."
"I am the editor of the Junior Gazette, and I have a newspaper to run. I can't be 'nice' and successful." She paused for a moment and looked at her watch again."
"Are you expecting someone, Lynda?"
"Yes," she said. Then she pushed Spike up against a wall and kissed him. Hard.
From somewhere in the background came the opening of a door . "Spike?" the voice called out. "Are you okay? The door was open and I....." The voice stopped and a loud thud was heard. Lynda ended the kiss and walked over to where Sarah Jackson had fainted in the middle of the room.
"Nice to see you again, Sarah," she said. "Have you met my fiancé, Spike?"
"Don't you think you should do something here, Lynda?" Spike asked as he walked over to join her.
"Find a good hiding place for that book of mine," she chuckled. "This is too much fun to be legal."
Someone half a universe away agreed and picked up a phone.
The crowd in Spike's apartment had grown by two members. Sarah was sitting in a chair being fussed over by Lynda's mother. Spike was watching the morning news on a small television set, drinking a cup of coffee and glancing from time to time at Lynda, who was on the phone scaring people, and enjoying it. Though her mother had brought some clothes along, she still had not changed from Spike's bathrobe.
"Mr. Kerr," she purred. "I read in the paper this morning that I had died. That was very silly of you wasn't it?" With great flourish, she hit the speakerphone button and Kerr's voice filled the room.
"Lynda....." he stammered. "How did you get...."
"Out? If a gunman can sneak out of the building---If Colin Matthews can get out of the building without anybody knowing it, why can't I do the same thing? Sloppy, Matt. Very sloppy."
"Why didn't you get in touch with someone?" he asked angrily. "Some kind of publicity stunt to sell papers? Let everyone think you're dead and then show up at your funeral?"
"What a great idea," she dead-panned. "Here's another one. You're going to see to it that we get whatever we need to get the next edition of the Junior Gazette out and on time or I'll sue you and Bobby Campbell from here to the moon and back by lunch time. I'll see you this afternoon to set up the details."
"But Lynda...." Kerr's reply was cut off when Lynda slammed the phone down.
"I've always wanted to hang up on him," she said to no one in particular. She walked over to Sarah and knelt down beside her. "I wasn't aware I had such a powerful effect on people."
"Sorry," Sarah mumbled. "Haven't gotten used to meeting dead people yet." Sarah looked over at Spike. "I could have sworn you said she was dead, Spike. If you two were in on this to trick me...
"Shhhh," Mrs. Day told her. "Talking will make you feel worse. Drink your tea." She turned to Lynda. Spike caught a glimmer in Lynda's eye.
"Uh, this might not be the right time, Lynda..." he began.
"Nonsense. It's as good a time as any, and I have to get back on the phone. I asked Spike to marry me, and he said yes."
Sarah choked on her tea. Mrs. Day looked at Lynda and smiled. "The Spike Thomson? The Spike Thomson who you said was a lousy, two-timing, no- account jerk you wanted to torture and kill?"
"That's not true!" she said with mock indignation. "I used at least three expletives in that sentence." She looked distracted for a moment. "Spike, are you taping the news for me?"
"Yes, Lynda," came the exaggeratedly disinterested reply.
"Anything interesting?"
"Somebody broke Sophie and Laura out of prison. Trains are late out of Norbridge station. Campbell Media's facing a possible hostile takeover. You're dead."
"I am? Just checking. I want to gloat later, when I have time."
"You proposed to Spike?" Sarah asked. "I'd pictured it as happening the other way around."
"He looked about like you do after I did it. I decided I didn't want to lose Spike....I saw a glimpse of what life would be like in the future. Something told me it had to be this way, so I did it and I'll see to it that Spike Thomson never leaves me again."
"Nor will I," piped up the fiancé ,"If you keep wearing that bathrobe around the house."
"Should I quit shaving my legs, Mum? I think he's staring at them."
"I guess I don't have to jump out of windows when people come around now, huh?" Spike and Lynda's mum shared a conspiratorial glance. Lynda and Sarah were smiling, too.
"Enough happiness for one morning," Lynda suddenly said. "Time to get the team together."
Colin Matthews was a wreck. He had not slept at all, nor had he shaved. Sometime during the early morning, he had left his apartment and gone down to the burned out remains of the Junior Gazette building. There he stood, watching the steam rise from the ashes and the water drip from the burned out superstructure. Four years of his life, gone, soon to be followed with his soul, which a demon bearing Lynda's visage had come to him and claimed during the night. "Buy your way out of this one, salesman," he said to himself. As the morning went on, he was no longer alone. Polly, one of the newer hires to the staff, came by. She had only just begun working there, and seemed to be a little shocked to have it all end so suddenly. Tiddler and Kate arrived soon after. Nobody knew where Julie was--she wasn't home or wasn't answering. Frazz and Kevin were shooting pictures and doing interviews at the scene. Jane, Martin, and Jeff had only just come by. Everyone stood and talked amongst themselves, pondering the mysterious phone calls they had received summoning them here. Except for Colin, that is, who was barely noticed by the others, and seemed to be inhabiting his own little personal Hell that no one wanted to intrude upon.
A taxi pulled up to the site, and Spike and Sarah emerged from it. The crowd quickly flocked to them, excited to see Sarah and expressing their concerns about Spike's well-being and his grief. After listening to the babble for a bit, he raised his hand, cleared his throat, and made an announcement."
"Everybody, I want you to know I'm okay. In fact, when I looked in the mirror this morning, something absolutely amazing was staring back at me." The crowd murmured nervously. Sarah smiled. "Not me," he chuckled. "Her." He pointed at the taxi.
Lynda was getting out. She'd gone through the pile of clothes her mother had brought and managed to find the worst possible combination to wear. "For old time's sake," she'd said at the time. Now she looked at her team, or what there was of it. "Emergency staff meeting, 1 PM at the main Gazette building," she shouted. "Does anybody know where Julie is?"
Nobody seemed very interested in that. Those who were there were too busy running over to greet her. Kate gave her a hug, which Lynda seemed surprised by, but accepted. Everyone was asking a million things, and Lynda gave up trying to get anything done. She was surprised by what she saw. As much fighting as she had done with these same people, they had all been through a lot together and Lynda only now understood that she meant something to them. Lynda knew where Julie was, and was preparing to deal with that in good time. Colin had slipped away, and Lynda wondered where.
"She's going to be very unhappy when she finds out you didn't renew the insurance policy, Colin," a voice whispered in his ear. "I think we should have a little chat about that, don't you?"
Colin whirled around to find himself staring at three people dressed in some kind of military uniforms. United States Army, he guessed, as the uniforms weren't British, and the speaker's voice had a distinctly American accent. The voice was a man's, and a young man--surely no older than Colin himself--stood in the middle of two women, who each had a small green object strapped to their belts.. Two women who looked a lot like....
"Sophie and Laura," he barely could whisper.
"Shouldn't have sold us down the river," Laura said. She pulled a gun from inside her uniform and pointed at him, as did Sophie.
"That's enough, you two," the man said sharply. "Put those away. Broad daylight--do you think this is America?" The two women did as he asked. "Now, Colin," he continued. "You've seen my associates don't like you. But you are a man of business, as am I, and I'm going to make an offer you can't refuse."
"I don't seem to have much choice," Colin said glumly.
"Oh, no. You'd take this deal in a minute, guns or no guns. It is just a matter of, um, formalizing our position. Let's all pop off for a quick bite to eat and discuss the matter."
They walked down the street and entered the newly re-opened Czar's, found an empty table and sat down. Colin sat on one side of the booth, while the three strangers sat on the other. "Don't you think it is sort of obvious sitting down in a restaurant with two escaped criminals?" Colin whispered across the table.
"Seeing isn't always believing. I have a little parlor trick of my own going. You'd be able to sell a million of them if they ever become declassified. Only you can see their real appearance, and that is because I allow you to. Your editor used something along the same lines to scare you last night"
"How do you know all this?"
"I have good contacts. I read a lot. So does your friend Lynda, and that's rather a big problem for my employers."
Colin felt himself warming to the topic. "Employers?"
"Employers," the man repeated. "You sold her out to the Sherrington Herald. Perhaps you'd like to help us--in exchange for us saving your lousy butt on a fraud charge."
"Fraud? I'll have you know that I am an honest..."
"Stuff it, Colin," Sophie said. "You sold out-of-date food to nursing homes and defective prams to expectant mothers. Why should pocketing the Gazette's insurance money be out of character for you?"
"I'm hurt that you don't trust me after all the fun things we mates did," Colin began.
From under the table, two clicks were heard simultaneously. Both Sophie and Laura had cocked their weapons, and the man in the middle grunted. "You're not selling, Matthews."
"I see that," Colin said nervously.
"Here's the deal. I have in my pocket a check for four million pounds, payable to the Junior Gazette. That will make a nice insurance settlement, and doubtless some extra pocket money to ensure you cooperate with us when we need you. Nobody has to know you spent the insurance money. And you certainly aren't going to make that mistake again, are you?" Colin nodded his head.
"We understand each other. In a very short time, Bobby Campbell is going to be forced to sell the Junior Gazette to me. I am going to take a keen interest in the Junior Gazette and in its editor, Miss Day. Good day, Colin. I know you will do the right thing."
"Or else," Sophie and Laura said in unison, giving their joint cute- little-girl smiles which looked rather misplaced on not-so-little girls.
"This is a first," Kate said to herself. "Lynda Day late for her own staff meeting."
"Yeah, who wants to suggest she dock her own pay?" Tiddler replied. "Spike?"
"I'm waiting to see if she really does sleep in a casket first," Spike chimed in.
"I'm sure she does," sputtered Julie. "Do you know what she did? Poured a bucket of cold water over my head to wake me up. Picked the damn lock on my apartment door to do it, too."
"Where were you, anyway?" Spike asked. "Lynda was trying to get in touch with you this morning."
"I must not have heard the phone," Julie said evasively.
"Lynda picks locks now?" Tiddler asked. "Where did she learn how to do that?"
"Must have read it someplace," Lynda said, breezing through the room and inserting herself into the conversation at the opportune moment. "Quiet!" she yelled.
The room took a few moments to quiet down. By now, most all of the Junior Gazette staff had made it to the offices of the senior Gazette building. Word was getting around that Lynda had not died, and Bobby Campbell hastily arranged a news conference to break the news officially. Lynda had taken no questions and offered no explanations publicly. She had just run up the stairs from the press conference to hold her meeting, with Matt Kerr in tow.
"Matt, you wanted to make a few remarks?" she asked him.
"Yes, thank you, Lynda." He paused to collect his thoughts. "First, it is good to have you back from the dead...." He was interrupted by a round of applause, which Spike was prominently leading. "The next few editions of the Junior Gazette are going to be handled from this building. We'll find some space for you somewhere, and you'll have access to our facilities to get the job done. This will be a down-sized version of the Junior Gazette--we don't have the facilities to run two papers here, and until you can get a deal of your own worked out for temporary facilities of your own, that is how it will remain. Finally, I cannot promise you there will continue to be a Junior Gazette. That's something you'll have to take up with whomever winds up in control of Campbell Media Enterprises...."
The rest of his words were drowned out in a chorus of shouts and groans. Lynda shouted everyone down and asked a question of her own. "Who is buying Bobby out?"
"My understanding is that a group of American investors is. Something called the Marriner Group. I'm not familiar with them." Kerr said. "We're checking on that."
"So will we," Lynda said testily. "Kate, get Billy Homer on the phone and get him working on it." Kate was up and out of the chair before Lynda could finish the sentence. Good old Kate--always reliable. Colin, on the other hand, looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.
"Colin, I want to hear how you're going to have the insurance company contacted today. We're going to need the settlement money s soon as possible." Lynda said. "You did pay the bill, right?"
"Um, that's sort of complicated." Colin stammered. "Something has come up...."
Spike grabbed Lynda, who was already beginning to tense up. "Colin," he said, "What has come up?"
"The settlement has been made. The money is already in our account."
"Then what's the problem?" Spike asked.
"The Marriner Group paid the settlement."
"What happened to our insurance company?" Lynda asked.
"A small cashflow problem. I was meaning to pay the bill, but then...."
"Colin," Lynda screamed. "You idiot! You've just sold the whole damn paper!"
"I didn't have a choice...."
"How much, Colin. What were we worth to you this time?"
"They gave me four million pounds for the building. I assume some of that was to cover incidental expenses, too. Cost of doing business and the like."
"How much of it have you spent, lodged, or invested so far?" Lynda asked sarcastically..
"I am shocked that you would even suggest such a thing," Colin yelped. "Don't you know me better than that?" A roomful of eyes rolled at this, and Lynda threw up her hands in disgust.
"Speaking of sellouts, where is my assistant editor?" Lynda spat as she wandered over to stare down Julie, "You could have been out here giving orders this morning, getting the news team ready for this story. Instead you were passed out on your sofa. What the hell good are you in that state? Thank God Kevin had the gumption to get his camera down here to take some pictures or we would not even have anything to show for this. Thank God Frazz is out interviewing people. Maybe they ought to be sitting in Kenny's chair and not you. Kenny would never have spent the night--"
"You bitch," Julie sputtered, but Lynda cut her off.
"Just like the Gaz, Julie. You threw in with the wrong lot just to feather your own nest. You always do what's best for Julie Craig, not the paper. Consider yourself fired!"
"Lynda," Kerr shouted, "Have you lost your mind? For someone that was playing dead, you sure have a lot of ideas about what was supposed to be going on in your absence. How the hell are they supposed to know what to do when you make all the decisions for them?"
"They've had three days to get their act together, and look at them." Lynda suddenly stopped herself. Damn, I've messed that up.
"Three?" Kerr looked at her strangely. "The Junior Gazette building burned last night. What happened to you, Lynda?"
"That's, um, kind of hard to explain...."
"I don't think you're quite all here. Julie Craig was here at the Gazette all night helping us with background. Background on you, for the obituary we ran. You never read it, Lynda. You couldn't be bothered because you were feeling too damn superior to know how much people cared. Lynda, consider yourself relieved of duty indefinitely until you get yourself under control. Julie, you have control of the paper until I say otherwise."
"Thank you, Matt," she said triumphantly and glared at Lynda.
Lynda broke down and wept uncontrollably. Spike was at her side trying vainly to console her. Kerr and Julie glanced nervously at each other and just as quickly looked away. The rest of the room merely watched in sadness and horror as the most powerful personality they had ever met dissolved before their eyes.
Sarah had stopped home to see her parents briefly after leaving Spike's that morning. She didn't bother going to the news team meeting, and felt a little strange at not being invited. She reminded herself that the Junior Gazette was in her past now; and that afternoon, she caught the train to return to college in London. This was an unusual voyage, as some dignitary or other had arranged for an extra car to be added to the train for personal use. This had confused the stationmaster, who wasn't used to dignitaries or extra cars fouling up his schedule. Sarah heard some rumblings about it mentioned by the passengers waiting at the station, but passed it off as not her concern. A limousine had pulled up at the station, and a group of three military officers emerged, greeted by the stationmaster. Old Burgess McFadden had been in the British Army before leaving to become station master, and he briskly saluted the soldiers as they exited the car. The lead officer saluted in return and briskly shook Burgess' hand. Sarah noted the three soldiers--a man and two women--were quite young and didn't seem to look just right for military roles-- something odd about them. Then one of the female soldiers happened to glance at her; and in an instant, recognition passed between the two. Laura Wilmot, Colin's young helper from their days in school, waved to Sarah, and tapped the other girl on the shoulder and pointed in Sarah's direction. The other girl smiled and waved--Sophie Jenkins, the other member of the unholy trio. When the senior officer inquired what was going on, the girls whispered something to him and pointed in her direction. The officer motioned for Sarah to join them, and she did, more out of curiosity than anything else.
"This is a surprise. I've heard a lot about you, Sarah."
"You have me at a disadvantage, sir. I know your companions, but I've never met you."
"Silly me," the man said. "Lt. Col. Paul Marriner, United States Army liaison, United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. Bound for London?" Sarah nodded. "Why don't you join us in the private car? Sophie and Laura seem to want to catch up on old times...."
"Why not?" My lucky day, Sarah thought.
They boarded the train. The coach was opulently decorated and seemed very spacious for a railroad car. The stationmaster stuck his nose in the car and said there had been a message arrive for him. Marriner invited the stationmaster in and bade him to sit down while he looked over the message.
"I thought you were going to fly us back to London, Colonel?" Laura asked.
"We'll fly soon enough, you two. Last I checked, they hadn't put in an underground from London to New York." He finished the message, quickly scrawled a reply on the back, and handed it to the stationmaster, who smartly saluted and left the car. Marriner closed the door to the car.
"This might be of interest to you, Sarah. I understand Lynda Day has been relieved of duty as editor of the Junior Gazette."
"What?" Sarah thought a moment. "How on earth would you know that, and why would you care?"
"I did say I worked for an "intelligence" taskforce. Knowing things is my business. I also have a large fortune which I have to squander in order for it to remain manageable, and hence I like to buy things."
"Like Campbell's media holdings, you mean?" Sarah smelled a story falling into her lap.
"Right first time. Care for a drink?" Sarah shook her head no. "I don't either, but I do keep a stock for entertaining. Guests, not staff."
From the background, a pair of voices whined "Oh, come on! You never let us have any fun."
"I do not need a pair of drunken sixteen year old escaped convicts serving as guards. I'm paying you well, and if you wish to get plastered, do it when you aren't on duty."
"Yes, about that," Sarah interjected. "They're supposed to be in jail. Why are they working for you?"
"Intelligence, my dear Sarah. They know the Gazette operations, they know the personnel, they know the area, and they were framed in the first place. Call it combining necessity and justice if you please."
"We did a story on them. They were arrested along with a bunch of bikers at a warehouse fire a year ago. The verdict was arson to cover up a stolen auto parts chop shop."
Sophie and Laura wandered over and joined the conversation. "Colin was buying cut rate parts from these guys," Laura said. "We were supposed to pick them up."
"Only they were stolen," Sophie said bitterly,. "and the warehouse was a front for some other activities."
"And that's why..." Laura was about to say something, but a quick glance from Marriner shut her up.
"Classified, sorry." Marriner said apologetically. "My associates tend to get carried away. Youthful inexperience. Another of my acquaintances had a hand in that explosion, but alas Miss McShane never got around to bailing Sophie and Laura out. I shall have to remind Dorothy of that someday."
"Whenever she has the time," Sophie grumbled, and she and Laura left to go to an adjoining room.
The train gave a jerk as it began to leave the station. Sarah sat down on a large royal blue sofa and took in her surroundings. She noticed a large portrait on the wall--a young blonde woman in a beautiful wedding dress.
"My late wife," Marriner said simply.
"I'm sorry," Sarah said. "She was very beautiful."
"Yes, she was." Marriner looked wistfully at the portrait. "Her name was Jennifer, and we married in high school. She was nineteen when she died, and there hasn't been a day since then that I haven't thought of her and cried at least a little."
Sarah wasn't sure what to say. "Was she ill?"
"Murdered."
"Oh," she said quietly. "I'm not doing very well in this conversation, am I?"
"Could anybody, Sarah?"
The two of them sat beside one another and didn't say a word for some time. After a while, Marriner closed his eyes and fell asleep. Sarah just sat there and watched him.
Spike had called a taxi and taken Lynda home with him. He didn't trust her to be alone in her current state, and she had put up no fuss. She had said little all morning, and seemed to be just barely keeping herself together during that time. Tiddler had called asking about Lynda, and Spike had called Lynda's mother, who would soon be on her way over.
In a way Spike would always think of as eerie, Lynda suddenly switched herself back on before his eyes, got up out of the chair she'd been slumped in and began pacing.
"That didn't go according to the book," she muttered. "Julie's lying."
"Lynda, let it be. Kerr said she was at the Gazette. Anyway, how would you know?"
Lynda shook her head. "Spike, you have to trust me. You don't show up with a biography from your own future without having a little something unusual to tell. I know things I'm not supposed to know."
"You're not making sense, Lynda. What happened to you?"
"You'll never believe me, Spike. You think I'm crazy now."
"Tell me, Lynda. But this had better be good."
She did, and it was.
"What are they doing, Laura?"
"He's asleep. She's on the sofa watching him," Sophie said.
"Still? I'd have thought she'd try to phone the newsroom by now. She's going to spoil the game if she sits there mooning over him."
"I guess we move things along then, Laura." Sophie walked over to the bar and started pouring herself a drink, rattling the ice cubes.
Sarah's ears perked up and she turned to see what was going on. "I thought he told you no booze?" she whispered.
"He's asleep, so what he doesn't know won't hurt him any." Sophie said.
"Where did you two sneak off to, anyway?"
Sophie and Laura exchanged glances and muffled giggles. Sarah raised her eyebrows and decided she really didn't want to know. Some things never changed in that respect.
"What do you think of him, Sarah," Laura asked with a twinkle in her eye.
"I don't know. I've only just met him."
"We saw you watching him sleep. We sort of thought...." Laura began.
"...And he is kind of cute," Sophie chimed in.
"...And single." Laura finished.
Sarah smiled a little, almost in spite of herself. "I suspect Mr. Marriner has a lot more on his mind than me. After all, I'm only here because you two know me."
"Like we care about you!" Sophie chuckled. "You're here because he wants you here. He knew you'd never come on board with a stranger, so we played along."
"Why me, Sophie? I'm just Sarah Jackson, university student."
"But a damn good reporter," Sophie said.
"Loyal to a fault," Laura added. "and smart where and when it counts."
"Could be a job opportunity here for you, Sarah." Sophie said.
"Or a relationship," Laura smiled. "Or maybe even a story."
"Yeah, could be, I suppose," Sarah said, clearly warming to the idea. "But I've got the university to contend with. I can't just pick up and go chasing off after something he hasn't even offered me yet."
"Then we need to get him to offer you a deal. Once he does that, he'll have the university begging him to take you on any terms you offer. They might even give you an honorary doctorate or something." Laura said.
"Universities don't work that way, Laura," Sarah reminded her.
"Maybe you're not as smart as I thought. You can buy anyone or anything for the right price. Colin taught us that, and Marriner's just better at it than anyone else in the whole world."
"Should we tell her?" Sophie asked Laura.
"Why not? No skin off our backs, just don't say where you heard this. "He's got an honorary commission from the Army. He's no more a soldier than we are, but he gives the Pentagon an invention or two to play with, helps fix the occasional alien life form problem when needed, and spends the rest of his time wandering aimlessly now that his wife is dead."
"Alien life form," Sarah repeated the words slowly.
"United Nations Intelligence Taskforce," Sophie said. "Very secretive lot. Deal with any monsters that come calling, that sort of thing."
"How secretive can they be if you two know about them?"
"We're bodyguards," Laura said simply. "If any monsters come around, we're the ones with the guns."
"And have you seen any aliens," Sarah asked them skeptically.
Sophie and Laura looked at each other and smiled. "Yes," they said in unison. "So has Lynda Day. You might want to ask her about it sometime."
"Marriner certainly wants to." Sophie added, and finished her drink.
"I don't believe either of you. This sounds like something Colin would dream up. Like the time you and he were running around dressed like space turtles...."
"Eeeew! Bad memory!" Laura made a silly face.
"Horrible," Sophie replied.
"People don't just come back from the dead on a lark, Sarah," Laura said. "If Lynda did, maybe she had a little help?"
Sarah looked troubled. There was something very wrong with the picture being painted for her. Was it the picture that was phony, or was it her conception of reality? "How do you know all this, you two? Marriner just got you out of jail, you can't possibly know everything there is to know about him in an afternoon. If he is a secret agent, he wouldn't go blabbing all that stuff to you."
"Oh, we've been with him longer than an afternoon, wouldn't you say Sophie?"
"Several months, I would say."
"But that's not possible if you were still in jail yesterday."
Sophie smiled. "Were we?"
Laura chuckled. "It is so hard to keep dates straight. What does the Colonel call that? Rela---"
"Relativity of time, I think," Sophie answered back.
At this point, the train juddered to a halt sharply. Sophie fell to the floor, dropping her drink as she fell. Laura flew backwards into Sarah, and Sarah fell over the top of the sofa, landing on top of Marriner and knocking them both on the floor of the car. Marriner groggily opened his eyes and looked at Sarah, who was lying on top of him.
"That's the first time I've gotten a wake-up call quite like that one," he said absent-mindedly.
"Just when I get one headache fixed, I get another one," Sarah muttered to herself.
"Me or the fall?"
"Sorry?"
Sophie and Laura had picked themselves up and come over to check on Marriner. When they saw the position Marriner and Sarah had landed in, they began snickering.
"Sarah!" Laura exclaimed. "And on a first date, too. Shame!!!!"
"What are you talking about?" Sarah asked, and then realized what they found funny. She looked at Paul, who was trying very hard not to laugh. She quickly got up, blushing noticeably.
"Okay, you two delinquents, why don't you go see what caused that little bump in the road and be useful for a change." Marriner smilingly ordered.
"I thought Sarah was the bump in the road," Laura chuckled.
Marriner threw a couch cushion at them. "Now!"
"Yes, sir!" They saluted and marched out of the car.
"Good help is so hard to find," he sighed.
"Is that an offer?" Sarah asked him.
"Could be," he said.