CHAPTER EIGHT: THE RETURN

The breeze felt refreshing. Mirage had walked a few steps down the hill and still could not believe her eyes.

"I know this place," she said, her voice chocked by the emotion. "I know where we are." She glanced at the road down below. "My parents and I drove by here many times…" She looked at Jack, amazed. "My house, Jack. My childhood home. I… I can't believe it."

"I know we're a few kilometres off target, Mirage," Jack said. "The on board computer always chooses a destination which will cause the least space-time continuum disruption. That's why we landed here."

Mirage did not seem bothered with the idea. "Well," she said, "We are going to have to walk over there. I see no other option."

She started down the hill, but she suddenly stopped in her tracks. Looking back at Jack and the time travel sphere, she realized they were not ready to walk simply to her house.

"Jack," she said. "We just can't go into the village and to the house looking like we do. We'll attract too much attention. It could get us in trouble." She looked down at her Super suit. Mirage and Jack had spent the last few days wandering in a sweltering alien jungle: They both were mud covered, bloodied, scratched, thirsty, hungry and tired.

"We'll have to find some civilian clothes. And shelter," Jack said. "We're still far from the house. We'll have to walk over there, and it will probably be dark by the time we arrive."

"Yes, better wait until tomorrow to go to the house," Mirage said. "It will be easier for us then."

Mirage had been secretly hoping for a break in their mission. The emotional impact of having returned to this place made it necessary. She had been very keen on bathing and changing, but as she thought more about their situation, she became gloomier.

"Jack," she said, "How are we going to find clothes? We can't use our suits to transform into civilian ones. We have no money, no specific place to go." Mirage had a hint of exasperation in her eyes. "I can't stay like this, Jack. I need to bathe…" She pulled up her nose at him. "And so do you, by the way."

Jack smiled. "Relax, sister," he said. "I have everything under control."

"I've heard this one before," Mirage said, sceptical.

Jack reached into the sphere. As he pulled out his hand, Mirage was astounded to see it held a thick pile of money. "The sphere doesn't have enough energy to replicate clothes for us. So, here's the next best thing." He handed the stack of bills to Mirage. "Non sequential, unmarked, small bills. Oh, and they are real, also."

"There's enough here for us to live like royalty for weeks," she said, amazed.

"We'll have to blend with the locals," Jack said. "That's part of the mission. We have to be as invisible as we can. The past is flexible, but we should try to keep it as undisturbed as possible. I'm going to need your help for that."

Jack stood beside Mirage and took a glance at their surroundings. "It's beautiful here," he said. "You were lucky to be have been born in such a place. They've succeeded in making the world a crappy mess by my time."

He started to walk down the hill. He turned around and outstretched his arms. "This is your territory, Mirage. Aren't you going to show me around?" he asked.

"Jack," she said. "What about the sphere? We can't leave it in the middle of the field like that. Someone will find it."

"Oh, yeah, you're right. Hang on." Jack put his hand on the machine's hull. Suddenly, the sphere became transparent and then completely vanished, emitting a crackling sound for a second. "Relax, it's still here," Jack said, as he saw Mirage's worried expression. "I just sent it ten minutes ahead into the future. Whoever walks by will be always ten minutes too early to see it. Best trick in the book."

A gust of cool wind went through their hair. Jack smiled and held out his hand to Mirage. "Well," he said, "It's time for us to move. Shall we?" Mirage liked his eagerness. She smiled as she took his arm.

She took a deep breath. "Let's go," she said.

They walked on the edge of the small gravel road that led to the village. Bordered by tall trees, it snaked through low hills and lush, green valleys that were filled with fruit trees, grape vines, and ripening vegetables. Here and there in the distance, quaint farm houses completed the quiet scenery.

Jack and Mirage walked quietly, each absorbed in their own thoughts. They had the reflex to step off the road and hide from any incoming traffic. Jack seemed amazed at everything he saw: He had jumped in surprise earlier, bewildered by the sight of a passing car. "A gas combustion engine, Mirage," he said. "I can't believe it. The only ones I've ever seen were in holograms... They vanished centuries ago as the world ran out of oil. I can't believe people started slaughtering one another for that messy gook." Mirage realized she would have to keep the Lieutenant from being too excited about their trip in the past as his enthusiasm and curiosity were bound to attract unwanted attention. She would have to keep an eye on him.

As they marched on, Mirage realized her adventure had exhausted her. The whole ordeal she had gone through had been above all, nerve racking. She still felt on edge, but her anxiety seemed to be fading as the hours in this comforting environment passed. As unnatural for her to be there as it might have been, she realized she felt safe for the first time in quite a while. Mirage knew she could let her guard down a bit now.

"There is very small hotel on the outskirts of the village." She said. "First things first: We will settle down there for the night, and I will find us some clothes. I should be able to find what we need in the local general store. Not much choice there, but enough." She pointed her finger at Jack. "And you, sir, your orders are to take a bath. You can take a bath can you?" she added, thinking of Jack's weakness regarding water.

"Bath, yes I can. A pool, not a good idea," Jack said. He looked at her. "You know this goes for the both of us. You have to agree, I think you've seen better days, Mirage." She frowned at him.

The road they followed had let them to a small village. A typical scene in the quiet south of France, it was a sleepy group of houses with vine covered white facades and wooden shutters. The dry streets, nearly empty, baked in the hot summer sun. Jack and Mirage had reached the town's square. In its centre, a small fountain trickled. No one there seemed to take interest in the two strangers walking by, as they stared at them for a moment, only to resume whatever activity they were doing.

Jack and Mirage had crossed to the opposite side of the village. "There it is," Mirage said, pointing to the only inn available. Mirage turned around. Jack was not beside her anymore. He had stopped a few meters behind, to study a public phone booth. He looked hypnotized by it. Mirage quickly ran to him and pulled him by the hand. Jack said he could not believe that you had to dial someone's number in order to communicate with them.

The old lady behind the counter was at first surprised in seeing two strangely dressed and rather unkempt visitors requesting separate rooms for the night. But when the young white haired woman told her their car had broken down on their way to a costume party, it all made sense to her, as city folk often brought with them their strange customs and clothes. But if those customers were willing to pay hard currency, she found it even more interesting. She gave them their keys. Jack gave Mirage a coy smile as he had noticed how fast Mirage had asked for separate rooms. The old lady had smiled at him also, nodding silently.

Even though the old building had only four floors, it still had the luxury of being equipped with an ancient and slow elevator that creaked as it crept up. Jack and Mirage had to squeeze in its cramped cabin, closing behind them the steel safety curtain that acted as a door.

They now stood in front of their respective bedrooms that faced each other at the end of the narrow corridor. Mirage handed Jack his key.

"Jack," she said. "This is yours. Please don't be offended, but, like I said, take a bath and wait for me. I would advise you not to go anywhere without me, also." Jack wanted to reply but she cut him off. "I know this past is far less hazardous than your times, Lieutenant, but we don't want to get noticed. We are already taking too many chances." Mirage showed him the pile of bills. "I know where to go and I know what we need," she said. "I'll be back in about an hour."

Jack had bathed and he sat on his bed. He had discovered the black and white television set, but had dismissed it very quickly as he had been too anxious about Mirage's return to focus on anything else. Finally, he heard a knock on his door."Here," Mirage said. Jack saw her extended arm as she handed him a shopping bag filled with clothes through the partially opened door. "There wasn't much choice, but these should fit you well. I'll come and get you when I'm ready." Carrying more bags, Mirage locked herself in her room.

Jack had put on what Mirage had found for him, and he waited for her now. After what seemed an eternity, Jack heard Mirage's door open. He peaked out in the corridor. He was surprised when he saw her.

Mirage had totally transformed: She stood in the doorway of her room smiling back at Jack, obviously satisfied, but also a little bit shy about the choices she had made. She wore a simple loose cotton skirt –all that she could find in the only store in the village- that had large flowers printed on it, with a plain red and white striped, short sleeved T-shirt. Her feet had flat and comfortable looking summer sandals. She had pulled her hair back with a large white head band. She held a small blue purse.

Jack was speechless for a second and it had not escaped Mirage's attention. She looked at him and she felt very proud of the way the clothes she had bought for Jack fit him: He wore a plain, fitted black T-shirt with jeans and black shoes.

"You're very beautiful, Mirage," Jack said, quietly.

Mirage blushed a little as he said that. "Thank you. And you, look very dashing, Lieutenant," she said, regaining her composure. They stared at each other for a moment, not saying anything else.

Mirage broke the silence. "May I take you out to dinner?" she asked him, rather hesitantly. "There is a small restaurant down a few streets which seems to have a fine menu. The evening is setting in, it would be most charming. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Jack seemed touched by her offer. "I would be delighted," he said.

The restaurant had a small patio, covered by an awning. They sat on the edge. As night had fallen, tiny lanterns had been lit on each table, all of different colours. The terrace glowed faintly in shades of purples, yellows and blues. Jack could see the reflection of the small lights in Mirage's eyes. They spoke quietly, close to one another, a glass of wine in the hand, their elbows resting on the table, as they had decided is had been an appropriate time for them to relax.

Food and drink had been served a plenty and they were both satisfied now. Mirage realized she had not had wine in a while for it seemed to have gone to her head. Jack also had let on that he felt its effects, and like Mirage, did not look displeased. As they spoke, Mirage suddenly laughed out louder that she had expected and it startled her. She then realized it had been the first time she had laughed out loud since her adventure began.

Faint music, which had started earlier, now attracted their attention. Mirage had an idea. She quickly settled the bill. Grabbing Jack's hand, Mirage suddenly pulled him along, walking towards the direction of the sounds they heard.

They had walked a few blocks down a small, gravel covered street that ended on an open plaza. Chinese lanterns were lit, hanging from the trees that bordered the court. In a corner, a man played worn out vinyl records on an old turntable, plugged into small speakers that strained and distorted the sounds as they had not been designed to play so loud.

"Bal musette," Mirage said to Jack, explaining to him that sometimes locals would organize small, easy going dances.

There were only a few couples out dancing. Some where young, some were old, but all enjoyed the music set to the beautiful scenery of a perfect summer's evening. Jack and Mirage had been standing on the edge of the dance floor, watching the dancers for a few songs now. When the DJ put on an old, scratched, early Beatles tune, Mirage could not help herself anymore: She stepped on to the middle of the dance floor and started to sway and spin with the music. Jack had remained outside. He looked at her, amazed and hypnotized at how she could move so graciously. She came back towards him as she danced.

Mirage held out her hand to him. "Come on daddy'o," she said, laughing at Jack's obvious embarrassment. "Come dance with me!" The Lieutenant hesitated for a moment. "Come on," she said, grabbing his hand. She looked at him.

"Just let go, Jack…let go," she said.

They danced. Jack could not help himself in being mesmerized from the sheer grace of Mirage's moves.

The music changed once more. The DJ had put on a slow paced tune. Silently, couples formed. Each partner danced close to the other, leaning on each other almost, resting. Jack stood there for a second, not quite knowing what to do. Mirage reached over and put her hands across Jack's neck. He rested his hands around her waist. They stared into each others eyes as they moved in tune with the slow, sensual music.

"Like I said, Mirage, we needed to blend in with the natives," Jack said. "We're doing a pretty good job." They kept looking at each other.

"Who are we Jack?" Mirage suddenly asked him, in a rhetorical way.

"We are Supers," he answered. "We are on a mission."

"On a mission to save the world, Lieutenant," she added softly. "Can we still afford to be ourselves, Lieutenant?"

"I think we can," Jack said.

"Don't look now," he added, as he eyed another couple dancing close to them. "But I think those two are out to save the world also…" Mirage turned her head to look at the dancers Jack had referred to: They seemed completely lost in each other, totally oblivious to the world around them. The fact that they had their eyes closed and their tongue exploring each other's mouth made them even more interesting.

Mirage quickly turned her head and smiled. "I agree," she said, "I'm sure you're right. They must be on a mission."

"They look determined," Jack added.

Jack and Mirage said nothing else for a moment. It seemed they were both were hesitating. Mirage finally whispered to him.

"We are professionals, Lieutenant…" She wrapped her hands closer together, hanging more on his neck. "We are Supers… On a mission to save the world... That much is true." She turned her head away. "We should never let our emotions cloud our judgment. We should never forget this."

A few clouds had gathered above the small park where they danced. Without warning, rain started to fall. The dancers quickly scattered, hiding where they could, under nearby trees or awnings. Jack and Mirage were soaked as they ran back to the hotel. As they stepped into the elevator, their clothes were dripping.

They silently stood face to face in the cramped cabin that creaked as it slowly went up. Jack gently removed a strand of wet hair from Mirage's face. He let his fingers linger on her cheek.

Jack pressed his lips against Mirage's, kissing her for a moment. She seemed surprised for a second, taken aback by the Lieutenant's audacity. She smiled.

Mirage put her hands around Jack's neck and kissed him.

Mirage leaned against the cabin's wall and pulled Jack towards her. They had let their guard completely down. They kissed each other more and more passionately, voraciously, mouths open now, as each kiss urged them to go on further. Mirage shivered and moaned as Jack devoured her, his lips kissing her neck, his hands on her body.

The old lady on the last floor had become impatient with the years. It irritated her that the elevator took too much time to reach her floor when it had people in it. She had a shocked expression on her face when the elevator doors opened and she saw a young couple pouring out of it, furiously embracing each other in a most indecent manner.

"Well," she said, obviously flustered as she got on.

Jack and Mirage had reached their rooms now. As Jack pressed Mirage against her door, she suddenly unlocked her lips from him. She opened her door, stepped in, slamming it behind her to leave Jack somewhat dumbfounded in the corridor. Inside, Mirage leaned against the closed door, with a stunned expression on her face. "What are you doing?" She muttered to herself. "Stupid, stupid girl…" She opened the door again to face him.

"Jack," she said. "This is not right. What about," she hesitated. "What about Stupendous Girl?"

Jack was taken aback. "Stu… Stupendous Girl?..." He now understood Mirage's hesitation. "Mirage," he said, "Stupendous Girl is my sister… She can very overprotective of her older brother from time to time… I'll have to tell her."

"Oh," Mirage said, rather relieved. Not waiting another moment, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him inside the room, closing the door behind them.

Only a few stars remained in the early morning sky by now. Faint light entered the room as dawn neared. Mirage lay awake in the darkness, her head resting upon Jack's naked shoulder. Her gaze drifted across the room. Their clothes were strewn everywhere. They had made love all night and they were now drained. Mirage and Jack lay side by side, their bodies and the sheets soaked in each other's sweat.

Mirage had not noticed that Jack had been awake for a few moments now. When she noticed, he reached out to her, gently playing with her hair. He understood her concern. She broke the silence.

"We'll have to go to the house later this morning," she said. "We might…" She hesitated. "Meet someone."

"We'll have to be as discreet as possible, that's all we can do." Jack said. "Once we have gathered the data we have been looking for, we'll return to the base."

"And then?" Mirage asked him.

"And then we'll move on to the next phase of the mission," he said. He turned to look her in the eyes. "There will be enough energy left in the time sphere to…" He sighed. "Send you back to your era, Mirage."

Mirage kissed him tenderly. "Jack," she said quietly. "What would happen if I did not want to return to my own era?"

They had left the hotel after breakfast, walking onward on the small gravel road that led out of the other side of the village, towards a dense forest. Mirage became quieter as they moved on. She could not help looking everywhere around her, astounded. It was as though Mirage had returned from a very long trip and found nothing had changed at all.

Mirage stopped as they had reached a curve in the road ahead. "We're here," she said. To their left, a tall, moss covered brick wall stood. It had a heavy wooden door with rusted wrought iron hinges. Mirage walked up to it. "This door will take us through the garden, to the back of the house. It's not locked." Jack could sense Mirage's nervousness as she said that.

"Wouldn't it be better to present ourselves at the front gate? We could pretend our car had broken down and needed to make a phone call. It might be less hazardous than to walk in unannounced," Jack said.

"I'd rather not," Mirage said. "I would rather avoid everyone if I could." She looked at him. "Look, it will be better this way:" She opened the door and stepped cautiously inside. Jack followed her, closing the door. They were standing in a forest of tall trees. "Stay here, I know this house by heart. I'll go directly to the study, and come back as soon as I can."

Mirage walked silently through the trees. The property had vast amounts of land. The forest around her seemed to go on forever. Mirage tried to make as little noise as she could. Sometimes, she would stop moving, as a branch, cracking under her foot, startled her.

She came upon a clearing. Mirage realized her knees were slightly weak as she saw the house before her. It looked as magnificent as she remembered it: The house stood three stories tall, the walls made of large hand carved brownstone. The argyle tiled roof had copper linings which had tarnished with time. Beautiful vines had grown on the walls, climbing to the very top.

There was no one in the garden. Mirage walked closer to the house. She peaked through one of the small lead lined windows. Inside, the kitchen she could see had just been used for an early lunch as two crumb filled plates remained on a large wooden table. Mirage realized she was trembling now. She focused her attention on the center of the kitchen and in a silent flash, she transmutated to reappear inside.

She stepped into the main corridor that opened on the lobby. Mirage's memory had been jolted since they had arrived on the premises. She had not forgotten the fresh scent of the polished oak floor. As she walked, all she could hear was the tic-tac of the large grandfather clock that stood beside the base of the grand wooden staircase that led to the upper floors. Mirage stared at it for a moment. She then took the handrail and quietly started climbing.

Mirage paused as she had reached the second floor. A smaller, much steeper staircase disappeared through an opening in the ceiling, leading to the third floor where she knew her father's study was.

Mirage was about to start climbing again when she turned around. She could see a door open a few metres away: The door to her bedroom. She hesitated for a second. But she could not help herself anymore. Quietly, avoiding making the floor crack, she walked over to the open door.

Mirage felt numb as she walked in her childhood bedroom. It felt so strange for her to be there and yet at the same time, so familiar. She had never seen it this perspective before: The furniture which, as she was a child, looked large and tall, now looked much smaller and fragile as Mirage had grown into a tall adult.

She could hardly believe her eyes: On her bed, her favourite plush toy rabbit that had a broken ear. Against the wall, a wooden shelf, filled with books of science, geography, art, all with colourful images and graphics. A small desk, with stationary, where Mirage did her homework. A vanity, with an antique mirror had a silver hairbrush placed in the corner. Walking over to the bed, Mirage stared at the plush toy. She gently took it and briefly hugged the stuffed rabbit before putting it back carefully on the bed as it was. She wiped away a tear.

Turning around, she took a deep breath, walked out of the room and climbed the last flight of stairs.

The third floor had been entirely dedicated to her father's study. The attic-like single room had been left in disarray: Research papers had been strewn here and there and cobwebs were spread across the wooden beams of the ceiling. Her father had disappeared already, she knew that. Her mother and she never had come up here since.

Mirage slowly scanned the room. She tried to remember. She looked for the clues that she and Jack had risked their lives for. But something was wrong: The more she looked around, the more she could see that there was nothing here to be found. Not a single item there seemed to have any remote relation to what they had been searching for. Her pulse raced as she started sweating. She started overturning books and papers, more and more frantically now. Mirage felt getting close to panicking.

There is nothing, she said to herself. There is nothing here. There is nowhere else to look, I'm sure. I can't believe it. There is nothing here.

She put the last book she had gone through back on the table. Mirage could not bear staying here anymore. She looked at the garden below through a small window. In a silent flash of light, she vanished.

Mirage reappeared near the edge of the house. She looked up at the house one more time, an empty, nauseating feeling in the pit of her stomach. She and Jack would have to return to their home base and find another way to get the code. If there ever was one.

As Mirage was about to step forward, she froze in her tracks. She stood there in complete shock, paralysed, unable to move. She had come face to face with a young girl.

The girl who quietly stared at Mirage might have been seven or eight years old. She was already tall for her age. She had long, white hair and beautiful emerald green eyes. Mirage could hardly breathe.

"Hi," the little girl said. "My name is Mirage. What's yours?"