Chapter Four –
Staring at the house, Hoshi scoffed, "This is your idea of camping?"
Malcolm stared at the stilted house and started climbing the stairs, his head pounding with each step he took. He had spent most of the afternoon arranging to rent the house for the week. He needed some sleep and he didn't feel like arguing with her anymore. "Look on the bright side. At least the snakes won't bother you."
Hoshi reached the top of the stairs. The house was about three stories high and appeared to include modern amenities. "And the tropical weather won't bother you," she retorted.
Unlocking the door, Malcolm headed toward the back of the house, intent on getting things done before he succumbed to the illness he felt nipping on his heels.
Hoshi looked around at the modestly furnished great room and kitchen area. There was a lanai with a hot tub and a pair of glass sliding doors on the other side. A small spiral staircase was in between the kitchen and the living area. Behind it was a dining area and a hall. She jumped when the house came to life and she felt stale air flow from the vent overhead. Her abductor had obviously found the electrical box.
Looking around, she realized he still hadn't come back. She eyed the stairs wearily, wondering if he was lurking about and waiting for her to run. Other than zapping her and wrestling her to the ground, he hadn't attempted to harm her. She didn't know what to believe. There was something there…something inherent she trusted. Besides, she had the advantage over him. She knew the area and they weren't far from the university.
Curiosity would be her undoing. The man claimed to have a fully functional UT. She should have grabbed it when she had the chance. It was obviously stolen. Once she got it back, she was going to make a break for it.
A noise at the back of the house caught her attention and she wandered down the hall and out the back door.
"Thanks, Pedro!" Malcolm shouted over the droning noise of a makeshift crank elevator.
The UT was on the ledge of the back patio area. He was openly using the stolen item. A large box rose past the deck and onto the ledge. Hoshi stood there, transfixed and looking from the UT to Malcolm. He was tugging on the box and in danger of knocking the UT off the ledge. Realizing what he was about to do, Malcolm grabbed the device and pocketed it.
He dropped the box onto the deck and started sliding it toward her. "I could use some help," he suggested, rubbing his hand, then the back of his neck.
He appeared pale. She looked at his pocket, wanting so to reach in there, grab the UT and start running. Running now would not be such a good idea. It was dusk, and she was not going to take her chances. Her escape would have to wait until tomorrow. Reluctantly, she bent over and helped dragged the box inside.
--
April 4th, wee hours of the morning –
Pacing the length of the upstairs bedroom, Hoshi cursed. He had been impossible, barley saying anything and pushing her upstairs as though demons were nipping on his heels to do so. The man had actually locked her in. Like she was going traipsing through the jungle at night! She had won one argument with him. In the event she needed to go to the bathroom, all she had to do was come downstairs. In order to do that, though, she would be setting off ten million alarms the bastard had set up.
Shit! She should have run when she had the chance and let the authorities deal with him. That bastard had her UT! There was no way she was just going to leave it behind. Hoshi wanted to pound something or throw something. The problem was that there wasn't anything to throw other than a pillow and a blanket. There was no furniture in the upstairs room. The bastard had taken the room with the king-sized bed and left her with an inflatable mattress on the floor.
There were sofas downstairs – pull out sofas. She could be sleeping comfortably on one of those, but he had forced her upstairs, "for her own protection."
More likely for his own protection, she thought vehemently.
A muffled shout from downstairs stopped her pacing. Who was he talking to? One thing for sure! She wasn't about to stay up here. Making her way down the spiral staircase, she waited for the alarms to sound. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she frowned. That lying bastard! There was no alarm.
There were two voices now, one almost mechanical, yet feminine, and his. His sounded agitated.
Making her way down the hall, Hoshi could hear what the feminine was saying. "…outside established parameters. The catalyst is outside established parameters."
Hoshi pushed the door open. He was groaning now, writhing on top of the comforter and pillows. He looked exhausted even asleep, and mumbled incoherently.
"The catalyst is outside established parameters," the feminine voice informed from his PADD.
"…my fault," Malcolm moaned, twisting closer to the edge of the bed. "My fault you died."
He was fully clothed and obviously so tired he hadn't turned off any lights. A fine sheen of perspiration coated his forehead as he wrestled with invisible demons.
"Hoshi…" he rasped, eyes open, yet glazed with fever. "I'm so sorry. I –"
"The catalyst is outside established parameters," the computer continued.
" – wasn't there," Malcolm mumbled, reaching for the figure he thought was a ghost.
She sat on the bed, eying the UT on the nightstand and the feverish man on the bed. What the hell was going on? What was he talking about?
"It's infected," he stated coherently, referring to the bite on his hand. He didn't know how he was going to explain temporal displacement illness to her. That jaunt an hour into the future had cost him, not to mention the continued exposure to being in the past.
Hoshi backed away, startled.
Malcolm sat up, taking the PADD off the table and turning it off. "What do you want?"
She should be afraid of him, but she wasn't. He was in no condition to hold her captive. "Is there a first aid case in the supplies?"
"Yes," he said with a sigh and watched her leave. When he was sure she couldn't hear him, he turned the PADD back on. "Computer, pull up Hoshi's threads. Have there been any deviations in the recent thread."
The computer chirped, "Affirmative. The recent thread, slated to end yesterday, has been extended by ten percent, becoming a viable alternate. Currently, it is moving to intersect with –"
He turned the computer off when he heard Hoshi coming down the hall. His nightmares, part of the temporal displacement disorder, were new, revolving around the attempted assassination yesterday. He hadn't gotten there in time. He wasn't there, just like he wasn't there when the reptilians took her.
Hoshi walked into the room, carrying a bowl and first aid supplies. Silently, she took his hand, peeled the dirty bandage away from the wound and winced. She had definitely gotten her wish. It was infected. She placed his hand over the bowl.
He pulled his hand back when she started pouring peroxide over it, but she held it there.
"Don't be such a baby. It'll help," she chastised, rolling her eyes heavenward.
"It's not just the hand," he started to explain. "I'm experiencing time displacement disorder. It's not permanent, but it may take me a day or two to recover. I'll have a fever, and I want to be left alone."
Hoshi wrapped his hand and readied a hypospray. She injected it into his neck and set the bowl on the floor. "No," she stated simply.
"This isn't a game, Hoshi," he replied, wincing as he tried to sit up. The room started to spin as the paradoxical effects and his physicality collided. He would fall asleep soon and his nightmares would surface. He would reveal things without meaning too. She couldn't stay.
"If you're going to be running a fever, someone is going to need to give you fluids," she said over her shoulder as she took the bowl into the bathroom.
Having no time to argue with her, Malcolm relented into the blackness of sleep.
Washing her hands as she walked out of the bathroom, Hoshi stared at her would-be captor. He was asleep, his even breathing the only sound in the room. She walked over to the UT and picked it up. She wasn't going anywhere tonight.
--
She held the translator in the palm of her hand, still unable to believe the ramifications of what she had spent the entire night studying. This is what she always envisioned the UT to be. The translation matrix was vastly advanced compared to her working model. There were over a thousand alien languages in the database she had never heard of, but couldn't access. There was some kind of security feature on the blasted thing.
The sun rose over the treetops, casting shadows around her. Hoshi was so involved with the UT she had forgotten to check on the man who "saved" her.
Time travel – the fodder of science fiction movies, was not her field. Logic dictated time travel was an impossibility, but the evidence was slowly mounting in Malcolm's favor.
She set the UT down and got some water. Having not heard anything from him all night, Hoshi thought it better to just let him rest.
Pushing the door open, Hoshi stopped.
During the night, he had gotten up and taken his clothes off, and thankfully crawled underneath the sheet, which did little to conceal his state of undress.
Her eyes lingered on his bare chest, which was rising up and down evenly. Pulling the comforter up and over his waist, she nudged him awake. "It's time for you to drink something," she suggested softly, holding the water packet to his lips and trying to coax him awake.
She touched his chest and neck, both slick from sweat. "Malcolm," she stated firmly.
His eyes fluttered open, and confusion marred his features. "Hoshi?" his voice croaked.
"Drink this," she insisted, placing the straw to his lips.
Malcolm took the straw in his mouth weakly and started sipping the contents of the pouch. Finished, he pushed it away and closed his eyes. "You stayed."
"There are too many unanswered questions," she replied, and set the UT on the bedside table. "This is similar to what I'm working on, but way more advanced. Where did you get it?"
"It's not a question of where, Hoshi. It's a question of when," Malcolm said, his eyes opening and his stare riveting her to her seat.
-- TBC