Madman's Dance (Time Rovers #3)(143)

Hopkins only nodded, his frown deeper now.

“Are your interfaces still working?” Cynda asked.

“Yes,” Thomas confirmed warily. “Why?”

She grinned. “Good, we need to borrow them.”

“That’s not possible,” Prudence told her. “It will cost us our grant.”

“It will cost you more than that if this plot goes all the way,” Cynda shot back. “Your future’s just as much at risk as ours.”

Pru shook her head, but with a definite lack of conviction.

Cynda got the sense they were waiting for something. But what?

“How about…” Mr. Spider whispered in her ear. Then she grinned.

Cynda produced the pistol with a decided flourish. “Consider this the first inter-century timepiece robbery.” She gestured toward her companion. “Give the nice Rover your pretty pocket watches and we’ll be on our way.”



Thomas beamed his approval. “We have no choice. Right, Pru?”

“That’s how I see it,” she agreed.

The interfaces changed hands.

“Do they work the same?” Hopkins asked, the frown still in place.

“Roughly,” Thomas replied. “Just be careful with the settings. They’re precise to the millisecond.”

Whoa.

“What about the time pulse problem?” Hopkins asked, still dubious.

“You won’t have any difficulties,” Pru said with a wink. “They’re configured differently.”

For the first time that day, Cynda felt a surge of hope. “You do the first six, Hopkins, I’ll get the last six.”

“But what about Morrisey?”

What about Theo? The shard of worry buried itself deeper into her chest.

“Assume he’s not in the picture,” she said, trying to ignore what that meant. “Catch up with me when you can.”

Dropping the gun into her pocket, Cynda saluted the pair. “We’ll be back.” Hopefully.

Hopkins tossed an interface in her direction, and then vanished.

“Show off,” Cynda muttered. She followed a few seconds later.

Thomas heaved a heavy sigh of relief the instant they were gone.

“The first inter-century timepiece robbery, and we were here,” Pru crowed. “It’ll be a great anecdote for the book.”

Thomas tugged on her sleeve, angling his head toward the newcomer who had just joined them.

Pru reined in her enthusiasm. “Good morning, Mr. Anderson. I trust that’s how you wanted that to go?”

Robert Anderson nodded. “Exactly. Thank you. I always appreciate the help of upstream academics.”

“We didn’t anticipate it getting this chaotic, to be honest,” Pru confided. “Her timeline is way off.”



“It’s all off-kilter right now.”

“We will get our interfaces back, won’t we?” Pru asked nervously. “We’re not allowed to stay a full day.”

Anderson stared into the distance, thoughtful. “If this doesn’t succeed, it won’t matter anyway.”

11:27:55. No sign of a bomb at the first location. Advanced technology wasn’t always your ally. She wouldn’t necessarily hear or see the barrel arrive, not with how silent her two observers’ transfers had been. Cynda ground her teeth and forced herself to wait.

“Come on, you jerks.” The worry registered more sharply now. What was Theo doing? No doubt he’d realized the situation, but why hadn’t he checked in with her or Hopkins?

“Eleven twenty-eight,” the spider announced.

“I know, I know.”

Cynda began to hum to relieve her accelerating nerves. To her surprise, what came to mind was an old Rover ditty that became progressively bawdier as the song progressed. It was Chris’ favorite. Somehow, it seemed to help.

She kept her voice low. “If I were a Rover I’d do London town. I’d do the town from bottom to Crown. There’d be no man that I’d turn down, if I were a Rover in London town. I’d start with a bootjack, he’d have the knack, then find me a copper who’d do me right proper…”

She continued to hum the naughtier bits and then suddenly broke off. Near the privy was a barrel. It hadn’t been there a few seconds before.

There was no time for finesse. She sprinted across the open stretch and launched herself at the container, ripping the three sticks of dynamite off the side and flinging them in all directions. Flipping open the knife Theo had provided, she pierced the cork bung and pulled. It popped out, and she drove a hand inside the barrel.

“Where are you?” The interface began to vibrate—the one-minute warning. “Don’t be shy. Come to Mama…”



If Theo was wrong about this… Her fingers touched something metal nestled on top of a paper liner.

Up came the coin. “Yes!” She slung it into the nearest mud puddle, triggered her interface and hurled herself to the next location.

Hopkins paced back and forth between a pub and the fence near the street. He’d become a Rover because it’d sounded so amazing. Now he could be stuck here for life, however short that would be. Or get blown to bits. That’d really piss off his mom. She’d wanted him to be a dentist.