CHAPTER 41

Her footsteps echoingthrough the cavernous lobby of the government building were a counterpoint to the staccato beat of her heart. Today was the deposition in front of the Parliamentary Commission for Time-Travel Evaluation and Implementation. Such a mouthful.

But her nervousness was not because of the presentation. Not even for the grilling she knew she would receive from the self-important prigs on the commission. She was ready with her research and could answer all their questions. Whether they liked her answers was unimportant to her.

What had her nerves thrumming just beneath her skin was the awareness that today she would have to face Dariux. The impact of his presence alone could obliterate the delicate balance she had achieved in her emotions since that last disastrous phone call.

She would like to believe she had got over him. That seeing him would mean nothing to her. But she was not in the habit of lying to herself and was not about to start now, and with such an important issue.

The lift doors opened as she neared. She stepped inside and the car flew up to the correct floor without her having to give any instructions. Of course not. They already knew who she was and where she was going. Nobody else would even get past the front doors of the building without authorization.

The doors opened to an oppressive meeting room done in dark wood and devoid of natural light. In front of her, a long podium was on a dais set with seven chairs. Four of which were already occupied. The other three remained vacant. On each side of the windowless room, there were more seats, all occupied by unknown people. All facing the center of the room.

And right there in the center, in front of the dais, a small desk with only two chairs. Dariux sat in one of those chairs, and she assumed the other one was for her. It looked like a courtroom. What a lovely set up. No doubt designed to make them feel as if they were on trial. To intimidate.

Dariux turned and looked straight at her. A thousand emotions seemed to run through his eyes, finding an echo in hers. Her heart responded to the call without permission and stumbled inside her chest. Her steps faltered. He stood up and took a step towards her, then stopped and waited for her to approach.

“Kalli, how are you?” he murmured for her ears only as she reached his side.

“Great. How are you?” she replied, injecting cheer into her voice, although she felt anything but. God, but the impact of his nearness was worse than she had expected.

He didn’t reply, only pulled her chair. She sat, then he resumed his seat. She studied him from the corner of her eye. His face was inscrutable as he looked forward, back straight, resting against the back of the chair, his arms on the chair’s armrests, fingers interlaced across his midriff. To a casual observer, he looked relaxed. Still. Immutable.

And yet, was it her imagination that provided a restless energy swirling around him?

He wore an elegant, sober suit that skimmed his body, creating a perfect frame for his magnificent muscles. The dark charcoal color enhanced the silver of his eyes. His dark hair was slicked back and gathered into a small ponytail at the base of his skull, exposing the hard angles and brutal beauty of his shaved face.

He had the tall, athletic frame that made any outfit look good. And she should know. She had seen him in several types of costumes, and even undressed... No. Don’t think about his naked body. Not now. With difficulty, she wrestled her mind out of her lurid imaginings as heat crept up her neck.

He turned his head, as if alerted to her thoughts. Drat. She could swear he knew exactly what she was thinking. It was embarrassing, but there was nothing she could do about it. His energy called to her, awakening something primitive and hungry in her body.

He had caught her staring at him, and he raised a brow in question. His eyes bore into hers, and he swallowed but made no comment. What was he thinking? So many unanswered questions. The charged silence made her wish she had heeded her mother’s advice and talked to him before this meeting.

Well, she had tried, hadn’t she? And his damned parbot had interrupted their call. Just the memory of it washed her in waves of embarrassment and anger.

The other three members of the panel arrived, and the president, Lord Chesterton, called for the start of the meeting.

“Dr. Brooks. Since you were in charge of the study, would you care to start your exposition?”

Gathering her composure around her like a cloak, she stood up. “With pleasure, my lord.”

***

AND SO SHE WENT ONwith her presentation. As she had anticipated, the inquisition started as soon as she mentioned the woman who had been dragged back in time.

Dariux, as the head of the time-travel technology, took most of the heat. He replied to all questions, which sounded more like accusations, with commendable aplomb. Taking all the responsibility for the accident and exonerating her of any wrongdoing.

She couldn’t let him do that.

“In truth, Mr. Kincaid wanted to abort the mission as soon as we realized what had happened and return the woman to her correct time place. I insisted we continue with the mission. The interaction of two people from different centuries provided a unique perspective to the research and proved remarkably useful. They were our main study subjects.”

“I see, Dr. Brooks,” the president of the panel intoned. “And what were your conclusions after this unfortunate mission? I hope the results will justify the potential disaster we have on our hands.”

The insufferable prick. As far as she knew, there were no adverse effects. There were no worldwide crises, and pretty much everything was as they had left it. Swallowing her resentment, she went on in an even tone.

“The conclusions are simple, my lord. We collected data from over ten case studies from the nineteenth century. We also measured all the hormonal and brain signals of the two main case studies. The measurements and activity of the man from the nineteenth and the woman from the twenty-first were similar. Which has led us to conclude that the ability to bond and fall in love was intact on both.” She drew breath, preparing for the most difficult part.

“However, the measurements are different when we perform those tests on individuals from our time. Namely, my colleague Dariux Kincaid and myself. We found that while a certain level of proximity and cohabitation with another human fostered a variance in the baseline measurement, the results are inconclusive and unstable, as you can see in the dossier in front of you.

“It is impossible at this time, based solely on the data collected, to recommend a rehabilitation program based on human-to-human interaction. We would need further studies to determine if this course of action is viable.”

There, that should put an end to her research. Maybe her thesis had been overly optimistic. It was nothing less than a miracle that it had found traction with the commission. After such lukewarm results, and the disaster involving Olivia being transported, they wouldn’t touch her research with a ten-foot pole.

So be it. She couldn’t deny that she was also disappointed with the results. Not only Dariux’s, but hers too. After reviewing the results of the tests they had run on her, she had to admit that her brain scans were nowhere near those of Olivia and Avondale.

Such knowledge tortured her. Because her feelings felt stronger than the results suggested. If she felt so wretched, when her love, if it could even be called that, was about a tenth the intensity of theirs, how miserable they both must feel at being forever separated? It made her want to break down and cry. It made her want to rail against all these cold, unfeeling people.

She did none of that, of course. It would serve no purpose. Avoiding Dariux’s gaze, she took her seat, and stared ahead as dignified as she could, as the president addressed Dariux.

“Mr. Kincaid, do you agree with Dr. Brooks’s conclusions?”

“I don’t, my lord.”

Her head snapped to the side to stare at him. She had not expected this. What did he have to disagree with? She had, for all intents and purposes, conceded defeat. He had won.

He looked at her for a moment and gave her a small smile and a wink. A wink! Thus having rendered her speechless, he stood up and addressed the commission.

“While I agree with Dr. Brooks’s reasoning and interpretation of the data, I will prove her data has been corrupted with the intention of skewing the results.”

A collective gasp ran through the crowd. She was too livid to gasp. Much less speak. How dare he! It wasn’t enough that she had conceded defeat, that she had failed to prove her thesis in a conclusive manner. He now had to impugn her data as well? He might as well destroy her career.

“This corruption of the data occurred through no fault of Dr. Brooks. Her only mistake, if it can be called that, was trusting the wrong people.” He touched his wrist and produced a holographic image from his bracelet.

“These are my test results as provided by ChronoSynthetics the day after our arrival from the mission. And these,” he said, projecting another image, “are Avondale’s, the primary case study.”

Kalli looked at the differences while depressing hopelessness engulfed her. She would never experience being loved like Olivia did. She would never know that kind of devotion.

“As you can see,” Dariux went on, driving the nails on the coffin of her dreams. “The results of the brain scan are abysmally different. However, these are not my actual results.”

Wait, what?

“I was able to obtain my results before anyone tampered with them,” Dariux continued.

He projected another image onto the holograph.

“These are my real results. And as you all will notice, the brain scan shows remarkable similarities to that of the nineteenth century and twenty-first century individuals we studied.”

He looked straight at her, capturing her gaze with his own. “In other words. I fell in love.”