“How lucky can one man get?” Jeff asked. Then he jerked. “You can talk to the rabbit?”
“He can talk to us, yeah,” Lizzie said as if this was something that happened every day to people other than me. “Is my dad around? I need to know if he wants his own rabbit or not.”
“I’m right here,” Siler, who’d been behind us, said. “And before I answer that question, how many rabbits have you already claimed as ‘ours’?”
“Only a few,” Lizzie said, sounding only slightly guilty.
Siler exchanged the “why me?” look with Jeff. “Then I think I’ll just share yours.” He pulled her to him and gave her a big hug. “Just remember, the saying ‘breed like rabbits’ exists for a reason.”
Lizzie laughed. “It should be ‘breed like Poofs,’ you know.”
“She has a point. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” Ever. Because extra Poofs was never wrong.
Jamie looked at SuperBun. “Is he ours, too?”
SuperBun said that he definitely was.
Jamie giggled. “He’s smart.”
“He is. They all are.” Black water for the win, presumably. “And yes, officially, we’re keeping all the bunnies. ’Cause you know what my motto is?”
“What?” Jamie asked.
“Poofs and bunnies for everyone, and more Poofs and bunnies for me. That’s my motto.”
“Mine, too!” Jamie snuggled Peter. “You bring the best presents, ever!”
Managed a laugh. “So glad everyone likes the souvenirs we picked up at our first vacation destination.”
CHAPTER 45
ONCE THE RABBIT SITUATION was confirmed, Jamie allowed us to give her more hugs and kisses, we got hugs and kisses from Lizzie, too, and Charlie demanded to hold SuperBun by lifting the rabbit out of my arms telekinetically. Then they all made much over Bruno and Ginger, which appeased them, so all was well in our Animal Kingdom.
By the time we were all settled back with our families and friends and the many furred and feathered crew members were in quarters or arms, depending, Drax announced that Mother was back up and running perfectly.
“Time to choose our next destination,” Drax said to those of us on the command deck.
“We need to go to Ixtha,” Mother said.
“Do we have a heading for that?” Tim asked. “I mean one we all get to know.”
“Yes,” Mother said. But she sounded evasive.
“What are you trying not to tell us, Mother?” I asked.
“When we were spun out of warp, the original coordinates were lost somehow. While I can determine where we are within the galaxy by triangulating from the Eagle Nebula and the star whose solar space we are within, I am having issues pulling the original coordinates back.”
We all exchanged the “oh really?” look. “That seems impossible,” Reader said.
Stryker shook his head. “It’s not. Think of it as Mother having experienced the Blue Screen of Death—her system crashed. We were all able to repair it, but that bomb affected more than the warp drive. It affected Mother’s memory banks.”
“But selectively,” Dr. Wu said. “Most of her memory appears intact. Just the information about where she was heading the ship originally is lost.”
“Henry’s right,” Chuckie said, as he studied a printout I presumed Hacker International had given him. “And this is highly suspicious.”
“This whole trip is highly suspicious.” Had my suspicions as to how this had happened, for example. Or, rather, who had affected Mother’s memory banks. Had two major suspects. One I couldn’t easily speak to right now, because Jamie was awake. But one, and the most likely culprit, I could interrogate.
However, I had to do so in a way that wouldn’t immediately make everyone realize that I suspected him. “Okay, so two questions. First, can we figure out a general neighborhood by looking at our original trajectory? Or was that information wiped out, too?”
“Some of it, but not all,” Chuckie said. “So, good idea, Kitty. I think that can help.”
“Super. Second question—can we just fly off at whatever isn’t warp speed, versus hanging around here and letting Sandy and his pals think of other things they want us to do? I’m suggesting not going at warp since we have a really good chance of not going in the right direction, and we have so many directional options in space that I think going away but slowly is probably in our best interest.”
Everyone other than Chuckie stared at me. Chuckie looked up from his perusal of the printouts, looked around at everyone else’s expressions, rolled his eyes then winked at me, and went back to his reading.
“What? Is this going to be another time when you all insult me by acting shocked that I’m not a moron?”
“No,” Jeff said quickly, while shooting the “stop it” look around to everyone else. “I just don’t think anyone else had thought it through yet.” The rest of my friends and colleagues all nodded enthusiastically.
Snorted. “Right. And I hang with all of you why? Anyway, that’s my two cents for right now. You talk amongst yourselves. I’m going to go pet some bunnies and be offended for a bit.” I actually wasn’t all that offended, being used to this by now, but it seemed like a great way to leave without suspicion.
Jeff started to come with me. Put up the paw. He stopped walking. Wow, this power had depth! “Nope, don’t even try. Just stay here and help figure out where we might be heading.”
Was pretty sure Jeff knew I wasn’t really angry, but also was pretty sure he knew I wanted to be left alone, so he obliged. Yet another reason he was a great husband.
Siler, on the other hand, didn’t get the message. He shoved off the wall he’d been leaning against, nodded to Buchanan, who stayed put, and came with me.
We didn’t talk until we reached the maintenance closet where he and the others had been hiding out. Then he opened the door and ushered me inside. Algar and the least weasels were nowhere to be seen.
“Going to talk to the DJ?” he asked once the door was closed.
“Maybe, Nightcrawler, maybe. Why do you ask?”
He grinned. “You had your headphones in through all of the action. I know what that means.”
“You’re still the only one.”
He nodded. “I know. And, before you ask, no, no one else appears to notice. Still. Not your husband, not Reynolds, not Alpha Team, not even your children.”
“Well, the kids are usually not with me when the action’s rolling. Thank God.”
“True. And also before you ask, no, I haven’t talked to anyone else about this. It’s not that I can’t . . . I feel like I actually can, even though you’ve said that you aren’t able to. But I don’t see the point, honestly. The DJ helps us. I have no interest in affecting that kind of help negatively.”
“Good to know. Um, I kind of want to be alone, though.”
“I’m sure you do. I kind of want to know where you’re going in order to talk to the DJ.”