Eggheads, she realized. They’re all scientists.
As Amanda and Mia moved closer into view, nineteen ardent smiles deflated into slack surprise. The crew had expected to find disoriented visitors, but these two looked battered, begrimed, and hopelessly bereaved. They didn’t just drift into this world on a freak cosmic updraft. They crashed here like meteors.
While Amanda drew dark comfort from their sympathetic expressions, Mia’s stomach twisted with stress. Their wide stares fell on her skin like hornets, making her feel like some wretched little thing they’d found under the porch steps. She meekly hid behind Amanda.
Spying the girl’s distress, one of the scientists turned around to his peers. “You know what? This is overwhelming them. Can we, uh . . .?”
He was rotund and diminutive, with spiky brown hair and a scraggly chin beard. He reminded Amanda of a woodchuck, though from his sharp eyes and cultured British accent, she figured he was a phenomenally sharp one.
The scientists slowly departed through multiple exits, leaving only the bearded Englishman and a mousy young blonde with a clipboard.
“I apologize,” said the man. “Curiosity got the better of us. We certainly don’t wish to cause you any further discomfort. I . . .” He trailed off at the sight of Amanda’s wrist. “Good Lord. Is that broken?”
Amanda looked down at her makeshift splint. “I don’t know.”
“We’ll get that looked at right away. We have a fully equipped medical facility here.”
Mia suddenly caught movement at the edge of her vision. Past a bubbling fountain and down a hallway, a wet-haired boy peeked out from one of many doors. A teenager. He spotted Mia’s gaze and shyly retreated from view.
“I still don’t know who any of you are,” Amanda said.
The Englishman nodded amenably. “Of course not. Sorry. I’m Dr. Constantin Czerny, Secondary Executive here at the Pelletier Group. This is my associate, Dr. Beatrice Caudell. May I inquire as to your names?”
“I’m Amanda Given. This is Mia Parisi.”
“Farisi,” Mia corrected.
“Farisi. Sorry.”
While Caudell scribbled their names into her clipboard, Czerny studied their tightly clasped hands.
“I can’t even begin to imagine what you two have been through. I apologize again. We’re all temporal physicists here. As such, we’ve been overly excited by recent events. For your sake, I implore you to remind us and forgive us should we ever take your state of mind for granted. Your well-being is our absolute priority. I can’t stress that enough.”
Amanda nearly wept with delirious relief. The bleakest part of her mind had prepared her for more madness, more Esis. But these people seemed mercifully kind. She was willing to forgive God long enough to ask him to please, please, please don’t let this be a screw job.
“How did you find us?” she asked Czerny. “How did you even know we were coming?”
“Ms. Given, there’ll be time to—”
“What’s happening to us?”
“I’m afraid we don’t have any more than a shard of the overall picture, but I promise we’ll share everything we know. That’s a task for my superior, Dr. Sterling Quint. He’s not here yet, which is just as well, because there are still a few more of you in the vicinity. We’re gathering them as we speak.”
“Are we the first?” Amanda asked.
“You’re the second and third. In fact . . .” Czerny peered down the hallway, then back at Amanda’s wrist. “If you can endure without treatment a few more minutes, I’d like to introduce you to young David. I imagine he’ll be quite relieved to see he’s not alone in his ordeal.”
Erin’s handphone beeped twice. She read the screen, then tugged her brother’s sleeve.
“It’s Dad. He wants us downtown.” She looked to Mia. “We’re hitting the road again, kitten. But we’ll be back soon. Sit easy. You’re in good hands.”
“Good luck,” said Czerny.
The Salgados left the way they came. Czerny tapped an anxious finger on Caudell’s clipboard. “Get the maid to prepare three more rooms. We’ll need six at a minimum.”
As Czerny spoke, Mia could see that he was struggling to hold back a grin. He reminded her of a kid at Christmas mass, hearing about the Lord but thinking about the presents.
“This building was originally a hotel,” he informed them. “Now it seems it will be again. Funny how the universe works.”
—
The first-floor game parlor was a popular break-time refuge for the Pelletier staff. Aside from hustlers and gamblers, nobody appreciated billiards more than physicists.