Besides, we’re busy. We’ve got places to go, worlds to save, first cousins to recruit. Those of us who may have been interested in romance of some kind just don’t have time to worry about it.
But this new girl . . .
“She’s really not one of us?” someone asked for the umpteenth time, talking over someone else asking where she was from. The questions were flying like laser beams or fire-tipped arrows or plasma pods, and a dishearteningly large proportion were aimed at me.
“Why’d you bring her here?”
“Where’d you find her?”
“How old is she?”
“Where’s she from?” The questions were endless, and I couldn’t answer any of them—except one.
“Is she really Joey’s girlfriend?”
“No!” I said finally, loud enough to be heard over all the questions. My volume earned a temporary reprieve from the chatter long enough for me to add, “She’s not my girlfriend, I don’t even know her.”
“Yet,” Jo offered smugly, which set off a round of laughter loud enough to wake the Binary, if it ever slept in the first place. My cheeks were burning like those of a squirrel hoarding jalapeños, and I busied myself with my vitamin-enhanced protein cake as though it were real dessert.
My team was enjoying this far too much.
The questions continued. Things like “Can we meet her?” and “How long is she staying?” and “Why is she here?” as well as a hundred other ones we couldn’t answer and maybe two or three we actually could. I let my team answer those, intervening only when I heard the g-word and my name (which was apparently still “Joey,” incidentally) in the same sentence, and finished my “dessert.” It was only just past lunch, but I was thinking I might have been ready for a nap. I’d been up since dawn on a world with two suns, and it had been a tiring day.
I made my way to my quarters, discovering upon the way that, despite how it had seemed, not everyone on Base had been crowded around our table. There were a few stragglers in the hallways and, after answering several more questions with “I don’t know” and “She’s not my girlfriend,” I took to peering around corners before I actually turned them.
The theme from Mission: Impossible kept playing in the back of my mind.
It took me twice as long to get to my quarters that way, but at least I avoided any more questions.
Hue met me at the door, changing from a kind of warning red to a confused beige and back again as I entered. My little mudluff friend—that’s MDLF, or multidimensional life-form for those not in the know—spent most of his time in the In-Between but occasionally liked to come find me on Base. After scaring a few of the newer locals and almost getting fragged a few times, he tended to keep to my quarters, venturing out only when I was with him.
“What is it, Hue?” I asked tiredly. I was ready for that nap. “Did Timmy fall down the well again?”
“You named him ‘Hue’? That’s adorable. But who’s Timmy?”
I didn’t even bother to turn. Hue had made himself metallic, affording me a distorted view of my own reflection and that of Acacia Jones sitting behind me in my reading chair, one of my books open in her lap.
I sighed. Would this day never end?
INTERLOG
From Acacia’s Journal
Really, there are some advantages to being me.
I got to Earth FΔ986 with perfect timing, of course. Okay, I admit it; I like to make an entrance. There’s nothing wrong with having a bit of flair now and then, no matter what my brother says. Besides, a timely rescue from certain death tends to get people to trust you—at least, usually. Joseph Harker is proving to be a little more difficult than most of my clients.
I mean, I get that he hasn’t had it easy. I’ve done the full research; I know he got a rough start at the InterWorld academy, what with his handler getting killed. That whole thing was glossed over a bit in the archives, but I can read between the lines; he Walked by accident the first time, like most of them do. Unfortunately for him, Binary and HEX were having it out on a neighboring world, so both of them caught it when he ripped through the dimensions. The Walkers may not be able to do much in stopping the war, but every little bit helps— and their powers are still useful enough to the baddies that they’ll snatch up a Walker whenever they can.
There’s a footnote in his file that says he’s one of the more powerful Walkers we’ve seen in a while; apparently someone here gave InterWorld a heads-up, and they sent a field officer named Jay after him. Jay got him through the In-Between and a little closer to Base, though not without some snags; that’s where the log gets a little muddy. I guess he got nabbed by HEX and Jay had to recover him. He was a good officer, that one; his death really upset a lot of people on InterWorld. I take back what I said about Joseph Harker not having an easy start—that’s kind of an understatement. Not that I can really be sympathetic. I can’t even let him know he has a file with us, let alone that I’ve read it. . . .
He really stepped up his training, though; wanted to prove himself, I guess. I can’t really blame him—I know I was chomping at the bit to get my sea legs when I was old enough to go for my first voyage. I never got captured by a Tech, though, the way he and his team did by HEX.
That part was pretty well documented. I don’t know if we had an Agent there, or if we just did interviews; Agents are more reliable than firsthand accounts, but there weren’t any records of one being deployed in the travel log.
Anyway. To the best of my knowledge—which is extensive, believe me—he’s the only Walker to have ever been booted from InterWorld. Sent him all the way back home, just because he was the only one to make it back to Base with the full story of how his team got captured. They take no chances on that boat, and if you do anything to raise suspicion even once, your name may as well be Jonah. Escaping from a trap your entire team got caught in is kind of a big deal, no matter what the truth is.
Not that it was his fault, though. That little MDLF of his saved him—and a good thing, too, since I’m pretty sure it’s also the reason he got his memories back. I don’t know exactly how InterWorld does those brain wipes, but I’ve seen them done before. They last. His didn’t, and it was because his MDLF friend came to find him after he’d had his memory wiped of anything related to InterWorld. After that, he remembered he could Walk and single-handedly rescued his team from HEX. I was pretty impressed to read that part, I’ll admit.
That MDLF, though . . . The story kind of makes me want to befriend it, too; who knows how useful it could be? There’s almost nothing about it in the archives—then again, not a whole lot is known about multidimensional life-forms in general. They’re dangerous, but we have more important things to worry about. Which is why I’m even sitting here in the first place.
I’ve already read through Joe Harker’s entire file—at least, the part that’s not classified. Yeah, it miffs me a bit that there’s something in his file that’s classified. I mean, come on; I may be young for an Agent, but I’ve got high clearance, and the guy isn’t exactly upper deck material. Besides, I volunteered for this job; it’d be nice to know what to expect. I’m sailing blind almost as much as he is, not that I’m gonna let him know that. Heh . . . I have to pretend I don’t know anything about his past, which I do, and make him believe I know all about his future—which I don’t. I’m sailing into a storm, here.
Joseph Harker, the anomaly of InterWorld. I gotta admit: Even though he’s a grouch with a lot to prove, I kinda like him.
IT’S DIFFICULT, IN SITUATIONS like these, to determine which question