GABRIEL (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 4) (6 page)

Later that evening, when Shara was certain her parents and their staff had gone home, she returned to the Governor's office. Having worked there during her academy years, she was familiar with the storage system and where to find the week's entry code. Within minutes she had an emergency travel visa good for a round trip between Innerworld and Norona. She couldn't be certain how many times she might need to make that trip, so she took a few more. Copying her father's signature and applying his seal took special care, however, and a man's voice in the outer office let her know she had taken a few minutes too long.

"Is someone in here?" the voice called out.

Security,
Shara deduced, knowing they would have been alerted to activity in the Governor's office. She had expected to be in and out before they would investigate.

"Yes," she returned. "I'm in the storage room." Her mind clicked through her options. If her father learned of her late-night excursion, he might guess her purpose. She couldn't let that happen. As the security man entered the back room, she remained seated at the desk, as if it were perfectly natural for her to be there. Relief eased her shoulders when she recognized the black-uniformed man. "Good evening, Tomas. I didn't mean to pull you away from your office. I guess I should have told you I'd be here tonight."

Tomas lowered the small stunner in his hand. "Good evening to you also, Shara. Has your father got you working nights in his office these days?"

She laughed but braced herself inwardly for what she had to do. She had no choice. "Not really. I was on my way to his house and he asked me to pick up these visas for him." Tomas walked toward her, frowning slightly as his gaze fell on the visas in front of her and Shara panicked. If he recognized the signatures and seals, she would be caught in a lie—a small crime compared to the one she was about to commit.

She had been taught never to misuse the gifts the Supreme Being had granted her but as the security man leaned over the desk to get a closer look, she acted in self-defense. Her mind entered his and planted a suggestion.

You must return to your office and you will not remember seeing me. You investigated the Governor's offices and no one was there. Everything was in order. Go now.

Tomas stood erect and left the room. Shara took a deep calming breath but when she picked up the writer, she couldn't stop her hands from shaking. She had just broken one of the most serious Noronian laws—invasion of mental privacy.

She assured herself that when her mission was over she would be forgiven for everything—the lie, the illegal mind-touch, stealing the travel visas and forging her father's name, all leading to defiance of the Tribunal's decision not to use the tempometer.

Listing her crimes in such a way gave her an anxious moment. They were adding up terribly fast and she hadn't even left Innerworld. She repeated the litany that had brought her to this point.
The reward is worth the risk.
With a lot more haste, she completed her chore and returned to her residence.

In order to go back to the time of the rebellion, she first had to get to Norona without being discovered. There were two days before her father expected to see her and she wanted to be well on her way by then. An express mail ship was scheduled to leave in the morning but even that speedy transport took a week. In an attempt to put off suspicions as long as possible, she programmed her telecommunicator to send a message to her parents' home right before she was supposed to arrive for their weekly family dinner, saying she was tied up on a project. A second message two days after that would tell them she had decided to take a brief holiday and would contact them when she returned.

Romulus had not been aware that the tempometer had been removed from the desk in his residence and Shara could only hope he wouldn't go looking for it now. All she needed was a little luck. With the tempometer's help, she might even be able to get back without her parents realizing she had been gone.

Although she tried to sleep for several hours, it was a futile effort. Finally she arose and got dressed to leave. Using the clothing she planned to take along, she carefully concealed the tempometer and the notes Lantana had given her and packed it all in a small bag.

Though she knew she wouldn't feel anything there, she touched the spot behind her ear where the universal translator chip had been inserted last week. Since she rarely left Innerworld, she had never had a use for it before. With the chip in place, she would be able to understand and communicate in any known language or dialect being spoken wherever or whenever she visited.

Ready to depart hours before the appointed time, she headed for her lab to pick up the microputer and make sure she had left adequate instructions for her research team.

As departure time neared, Shara's excitement mounted. Suddenly the door to her lab opened and the unexpected sound caused her to spring off her stool.

"Going somewhere, Shara?"

For several wild heartbeats, she could only gape, speechless from the shock of being discovered by the worst person possible. How could the professor have known what she was planning? She hadn't made advance reservations or even spoken to anyone. There were only the preprogrammed messages for her parents. But there he stood, like an angelic centurion, with his feet spread and arms crossed. Her resentment toward the odious man increased another degree.

She tried to mentally order him away but was astounded to discover that she was locked out of his mind. She tensed, expecting him to be furious with her attempted invasion but he didn't seem to notice that she had done anything. Carefully avoiding another untruth, especially with the evidence of a travel bag at her feet, she hedged. "I don't believe my itinerary is your concern." He marched across the room and cupped her chin in his hand before she had a chance to object. As she jerked her head away from his touch, a slow smile appeared on his face.

Gabriel had seen what he was looking for but decided not to let her in on his realization quite yet. At the moment her eye color was a drab olive green and he knew without a doubt she was hiding something this time. He mentally catalogued that information for further analysis.

Shara backed away from him, discomfited by the way his brief touch had warmed her skin. "What do you want, Professor?"

"Tch, tch, tch. Still angry, I see. Too bad. This journey will be difficult enough without you scowling at me the entire time."

Shara straightened her spine and gave him the scowl he was expecting. A week had passed since their last encounter, and when he hadn't made another appearance, she had hoped he had gone off on another one of his research treks. "And what journey might that be?"

"You're not a good enough actress to pull off the simpleton routine, Shara. I know the Tribunal turned down your request to travel back in time. I also know you're planning to ignore their decision." Her small but audible intake of breath confirmed his assumption.

"How do you know that?" she whispered.

He gave her his most charming smile. "Because, fellow scholar, that is precisely what I intend to do as well." He paused for that dart to sink in then continued. "I could stop you right now. All I'd have to do is let the Co-Governors know you have the tempometer." Her look of dismay told him he had guessed correctly. She
did
have it in her possession.

"They would never permit their offspring to become a criminal. But in that scenario, I wouldn't get to go either. I gave this a lot of thought and I believe I came up with the same conclusion that you did—the reward is worth the risk. Give it up, Shara. You have no choice but to accept me as your partner for the duration."

She was briefly taken aback at hearing her litany come from his mouth, until she recalled their last argument. Since she couldn't get through to his subconscious mind, she tried for a bluff. "Go ahead. Call my parents. They know what I'm doing."

He noted the olive color of her eyes had grayed a bit more and bet she was straight-out lying, despite the fact that it was prohibited by the Code of Honesty. Striding past her to the communicator on her desk, he wondered what laws were left for her to disregard. He touched a button and said, "Connect me with Governor Romulus."

Shara's finger touched the same button a heartbeat later and disconnected the communication. "All right. You can come. But I have one question. Do you still intend to prevent me from altering history?"

"Absolutely," he stated emphatically.

"Then I'd say
partner
is the wrong term, because I still intend to carry out my mission, even if I have to do it over your unconscious body."

Gabriel raised one eyebrow at her. "I'm accustomed to going long periods without sleep. And when I do sleep, it's very lightly. Or are you still harboring notions of overpowering me with physical violence?"

She cocked her head, thinking physical violence should not be ruled out. "If you're not with me, I don't need to do anything."

Gabriel closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had never known such an argumentative, unreasonable female. "Regardless of your delusions, here's the situation. You can accept my presence in spite of our difference of opinion or return the tempometer and give up any hope of proving your theories firsthand. Well? What will it be?"

Chapter 3

"Do I at least get to specify terms?" Shara used her most caustic tone of voice, but his smirk let her know he was finding her more entertaining than threatening. Physical violence was sounding better all the time.

Gabriel shrugged. "It doesn't have to be war between us. You admitted to me that you thought a historian would be helpful. With me you have a historian and a seasoned journeyor. Your lack of experience in primitive cultures could put you in serious danger. Though you're not really in a position to request favors, I'll show you how easy I am to work with. I will agree to one contingency, as long as it has nothing to do with altering history."

Shara frowned, caught as she was between logic and emotion. His points were valid but she refused to admit she needed his expertise. With a sigh of unwilling surrender, she chose her single request. "My one condition—and it is imperative you agree—is this. Stop putting your hands on me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I thought I spoke very clearly. Four times now you have put your hands on me in an aggressive manner. I don't like it."

Gabriel searched for an appropriate response. It wasn't the first time a female had commented on the effect his touch had had on her, but it was the first time one was repulsed by it. Shara had even counted the number of contacts. He, on the other hand, could only remember thinking how warm her flesh had felt against his fingers, as opposed to her chilly disposition. "I assure you, those offenses were unintentional, but I do apologize. I will try to curb my tactile impulses in the future. So when do we leave?"

She resented being forced into a corner but there didn't seem to be any acceptable alternatives. As soon as Shara told him the time and gave him a travel visa, Gabriel left to pack his necessities for the trip.

Shara's fantasy wish that the professor would change his mind dissolved when she saw him at the foot of the boarding ramp to the sleek mailship. He had changed into a loose-fitting, dark-brown jumper with short sleeves and long pants, similar to the forest-green one she was wearing, but with two notable differences. Where hers had a high collar that reached her chin, his neckline was opened to his diaphragm, allowing her to see that, not only did he have chest hair, a very rare thing for a Noronian, but that it was the same shade of pale gold as—

She put a halt to that line of thinking. The other difference was that his jumper had dozens of various-sized pockets, most of which seemed to have something inside them. Floating beside him was a large satchel, at least three times the size of her bag. A guide strap wrapped around his wrist kept it from drifting away. Apparently he had attached an antigravity device to save himself the trouble of carrying it.

"Professor," she said stiffly in acknowledgment.

He nodded. "If it makes you more comfortable to keep my title between us, go right ahead. But I will answer much more readily to Gabriel, the name I'm accustomed to. Keep that in mind if you ever need my attention quickly. Shall we board?"

Shara didn't bother to answer, walking past him up the gangway and into the ship. She would have preferred to have their cabins a mile apart, but one didn't have much choice on a mailship. The ship was built for speed rather than comfort and passengers had to stay in whatever crew's quarters were available, which in this case were the last two sleepers at the end of a passageway.