Amanda's Amorous Aliens (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (14 page)

“Hasbro,” yet another male voice said, “stay where you are. We’re concerned that you may have hit your head during takeoff. We’ve got a medical team coming to you.”

“What? No, I don’t need medical attention. I need answers.” That would have been a lot more convincing without the slur in her voice, but dammit, she definitely remembered what happened.
Assholes
.

“It’s okay, sweet cheeks,” her copilot said through her headphones. “We’ll figure out what went wrong while you get yourself checked out.”

“Nothing went wrong. You ejected, you asshole. You told me you were following orders.”

“I what?” Clyde seemed genuinely surprised by her accusation. “Honey, just let the doc check you over. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Amanda swallowed hard as she tried to make sense of the last three minutes. In her mind the test flight had happened several months ago, but the details were very clear in her memory. She knew without a doubt that Clyde had claimed at the time he’d ejected that he was following orders from Hensworth. It was exactly the type of dirty tactics Hensworth would employ to try and discredit her. The man had been against a woman joining the research program from day one.

Amanda dragged her helmet off and rubbed a hand through her sweaty hair. The whole side of her head felt tender, but at least she didn’t have an egg-sized lump. Right now six years without Kar, Riak, Sek, and Tannen seemed like it was going to take forever.

She saw the ground crew hurrying toward her and almost rolled her eyes at the overly dramatic way they dragged a medical stretcher between them.
Shit
. She didn’t need medical care—but she decided she didn’t need to roll her eyes just at the moment, either. Good god, that was one hell of a headache. What she needed was justice. At the very least she needed to put her boot up someone’s ass. By his orders, Hensworth had not only damn near killed her, but he’d risked the entire project.

She spent the short trip to the hospital explaining over and over what had happened on the test flight. She repeated word for word what Clyde had said, rehashed every snide remark, every sexist comment, every difficulty Hensworth had thrown her way over the years, and instead of fury and reaction all she got was sad smiles and shaking heads.

After several hours of interrupted sleep, the questions started over once more. Her answers were exactly the same. Their reactions unchanged, too.

What the hell was wrong with these people? Why weren’t they listening?

She rubbed her head, tired of the endless questions that just seemed to be going around and around in circles. It didn’t help that she’d nearly slipped up and mentioned her little trip into the past and her alien encounter.

“Can we maybe do this tomorrow?” she asked the four doctors, two official Air Force representatives, and her traitorous copilot. She started picking at the tape on the back of her hand so that they could remove the cannula setup currently dripping fluids into her vein.

“I think it would be best if you stay here at least another night.” She gave the doctor an incredulous look. “Just for observation,” he added quickly.

“I’m fine. I don’t have any lumps or bumps or bruises. The concussion was only mild. You said that yourself. I’m sufficiently hydrated. There’s no reason to keep me here any longer.”

The doctor seemed ready to reassure her, but he was interrupted by one of the alpha-assholes she’d been working with for the past few years. “Ms. Hasbro, consider that an order.”

“I don’t take orders,” she said with the fakest smile she could muster. “I’m a civilian consultant. Remember?”

Judging by the look on his face, he not only remembered but was about to mess with her civil liberties. She glanced back at the doctor in time to see him inject something into her intravenous line. She scrambled to rip the cannula from her hand, but her alpha-asshole buddy, Clyde, was there to stop her.

“You bastard,” she mumbled as she waited for everything to go black.

* * * *

“How is she?” Kar asked in a low, growly voice over the thing humans called a cell phone.

“She’s fine. I stayed the night by her bedside. Nobody else heard her mumbling in her dreams,” Riak said, managing to inject a smug-sounding tone into his voice. “We’ll be home soon.” He switched off the phone and dropped it into his pocket.

Twelve months ago they’d been discussing when to travel to the meeting time with Amanda when To’huto had finally volunteered the rest of the information he’d been hiding. Ironically, it had been labeled “Third Time’s the Charm.”

Apparently, the first time they’d gone to meet her in her own time Amanda hadn’t been there. To’huto provided them with enough information to prove that the asshole who’d sabotaged her test flight had also managed to have her hospitalized for a head injury she’d received while landing. She’d been suffering a mild concussion but had mumbled a few things in her sleep about aliens that split into four and time travelers who were waiting for her. Hensworth had used that as an argument to have her removed from the space travel program—after he stole all of her work.

Both futures that To’huto had told them had actually come to pass—both the one where Amanda Hasbro was widely acknowledged as the mother of modern space travel and the one where Hensworth stole her ideas, cocked up most of her research, but managed well enough to inspire other, more-intelligent researchers to follow Amanda’s theories.

Unfortunately, in that second scenario they’d also been unable to find Amanda for several years more. By the time she’d been released from psychiatric evaluation she’d barely been the bright, intelligent, determined woman they’d known. She’d also convinced herself that there was no such thing as Kobarians and love despite the evidence of four large Kobarians declaring their love for her. Angry that they’d all given up so much for Amanda to have a chance at her career only to have it stolen from her, Kar, Riak, Sek, and Tannen had apparently tweaked To’huto’s program and tried again.

Hopefully, this time they’d be more successful.

Armed with the knowledge of what would happen this day, Riak had managed to infiltrate the medical staff at this base and had quietly spent the past six months working undercover and waiting. It had just about killed him to be so close yet be unable to approach the woman he loved until after the failed test flight, but finally the waiting was over.

“I see our patient wants to go home,” Riak said as he stepped into the medical room just as they tried to sedate Amanda. Thank heavens he’d managed to switch the actual sedative with a saline solution.

He saw Amanda’s eyes widen in surprise, but thankfully she didn’t say anything.

“Yes, doctor,” one of his underlings replied, sounding a little nervous. Riak hadn’t exactly spent the past six months making friends, but it looked like he’d been right on his guess of which doctors had been involved in Amanda’s false detention. Riak wasn’t exactly in charge, but he at least outranked these assholes. “We were just recommending that she stay overnight for observation.”

He made a show of flipping through her medical records—he was already very familiar with her file, but the occupants of this room didn’t need to know that.

“All of the tests came up normal. There are no longer any signs of concussion. No physical injuries of any kind. I don’t see any reason for us to keep Ms. Hasbro here.”

“The gibberish she was spouting about attempted murder and conspiracy theories is utter nonsense! Surely that would warrant at least a few days of observation,” one of the men in uniform said in a tone of voice that a less confident man might find intimidating.

“Is that so?” Riak asked, pretending to think it over. “Perhaps you should reconsider the idea that Ms. Hasbro knows exactly what she’s talking about.”

“Why would we do that? It’s obviously untrue. There is not one bit of evidence to back up her accusations.” The man’s smug attitude suggested he’d made certain of that himself.

“Is that so?” Riak asked again, watching the copilot carefully as he showed definite signs of distress. Apparently his truthfulness had dried up the moment it seemed Amanda wasn’t going to crash with her ship. “I thought you scientific types recorded everything. Wouldn’t there be an onboard backup recorder? Or a”—he pretended to think of something appropriate—“I don’t know, laptop or something that might have captured what Ms. Hasbro says she heard?”

He saw the exact moment Amanda realized what he was trying to tell her. To’huto had been a part of her life a lot earlier than she realized. Fortunately, Riak had known how important it would be for Amanda to keep her laptop close and had made certain she knew where it was. She reached over the side of the bed and snagged the piece of technology that could prove her words.

The tension level in the room increased exponentially as they waited for the laptop to boot up. Only he would have noticed her slight smirk as she clicked on the shortcut to a file called “TTAC”—Third Time’s a Charm. According to To’huto, the computer had recorded the exchange via the time fracture moments before pulling Amanda through to their time. When Riak and his brothers had questioned why To’huto hadn’t just explained this all to Amanda before sending her back, the computer had made a rude noise and asked them if they’d ever seen Amanda try to act. Amanda did have a tendency to say exactly what was on her mind. Lying, even by omission, would have been very difficult for her. Add that to the fact that she’d once confessed her ability to have entire conversations while still asleep and they had a concerning problem.

To’huto had been adamant that in every scenario Amanda would need to be taken to the hospital for her injuries. But it had been her mumbled conversation with the doctor that had inadvertently altered the time line. This time Riak had made certain the only doctor she mumbled anything to was him. But, considering the emphasis To’huto had placed on
not
telling Amanda the plan, Riak had to wonder if the computer program knew something more but was refusing to tell. Maybe third time wasn’t the charm. Maybe this was attempt number four, or five, or ten?

Please, please, please let it work this time.

Riak had been doubtful of the computer’s summation—To’huto really had no proof that she’d mumbled anything to anyone—but considering how clearly Amanda had explained to him about the alien that could split into four different men, it was obvious To’huto knew its creator very well. If they’d been relying on her words to be slurred and indecipherable, they would have been in serious trouble.

“Okay,” he said, stepping closer to her bed, “I believe that’s sufficient evidence to prove Ms. Hasbro is telling the truth and not delusional. I suggest you all leave so she can get dressed.” He turned to one of the doctors on his staff and gave him a menacing smile. “I’ll do the release paperwork. We’ll discuss your misdiagnosis in your performance review next week.”

Riak got a great deal of satisfaction just watching the man scurry out the door.

“I’ll just take the lapto—” one of the uniformed men said in an officious tone of voice. Fortunately, Riak’s lovely wife wasn’t silly enough to fall for that.

“No need,” Amanda said as she pulled the computer closer, tapped a few keys, and ejected a miniature SD card. She handed the tiny piece of technology to the man in charge, grabbed another from her bag, and made a copy for Clyde as well. She made several more copies and gleefully passed them around, explaining her actions with a single word—insurance.

Finally the room cleared out—three bemused doctors, two furious Air Force brass, and one copilot with lots of explaining left to do. It could almost be a song…

“Riak?” Amanda asked nervously as soon as the room emptied.

“In the flesh, sweetheart,” he said as she climbed out of the hospital bed and practically threw herself into his arms. He moved quickly to stop the intravenous getup from smashing onto the floor and then for the first time in nearly a year held her close to his heart. “Come on, Amanda. Let’s get you home.”

* * * *

Kar, Sek, and Tannen were all waiting for them when they drove into the driveway of a large home on the outskirts of Las Vegas, Nevada.

“You’re kidding,” she said as she stepped out of the car and was quickly surrounded by four men.

“Kidding about what?” Kar finally asked when he let her up for air.

“Aliens living in Las Vegas. Isn’t that just a touch cliché?”

“We thought it was rather fitting. You know, hide in plain sight and all that. Besides, with some of the entertainment available in this town nobody would even glance sideways at four identical brothers.”

She laughed, too happy at the moment to let her fears intrude. She glanced around the area and noticed the signs of long-term inhabitation. “How long have you been here?”

“About a year,” Sek said as he lifted her into his arms and headed toward the large, ranch-style home.

“A year?” she asked quickly. “I thought you were going to meet me in six years.”

“Well, that was before To’huto filled us in on a few things that had gone wrong previously.”

“Previously? As in we’ve done this before?”

“Apparently,” Tannen said with a happy smile, “but I’m sure To’h will fill you in on the details.”

“He’s here?” Okay, yes, she’d just called a computer program a “he,” but it was kind of hard not to when the program truly did seem to have a mind of its own sometimes.