Madman's Dance (Time Rovers #3)(58)

She nodded. “Why is Ralph mad at me?”

Oh dear. “He’s not angry at you.”

“Then why does he frown all the time?”

“He remembers the way you used to be, and he wants you to be that way again. He cares very much for you. That’s why he’s pushing so hard.”

“You don’t push.”

“I know it’s better not to.”

She hopped out of bed, pulled on her sandals, then stopped at the door.

“Is the bald man gone?”

“For the time being.”

“Good.” She took a step forward, then turned back toward him. “Who was the man with the flower?”

Morrisey hesitated. It would be best that he not give her a name. She might accidentally tell the wrong person that Defoe had been in residence.

“He is a friend of mine,” he replied.

“I don’t remember his name.” With that, she scooted out the door.

This time, Morrisey allowed the smile free rein.

But you remembered he wore a flower.

~??~??~??~



The following morning, Cynda found a box underneath the pagoda. It was low and black. She sat next to it for a long time, wondering why it wasn’t making any noise. Finally, she touched it. There was a beep and an image flashed into the air above it, causing her to rear back in fright. When nothing else happened, she tapped one of the colorful keys projected onto the wooden platform. Another beep.



If all it did was beep, that wasn’t going to help her. She grew restless. Perhaps she should go back to her room and stare at the line on the machine. It was all blue now. Morrisey had told her that was a good thing.

Instead, she concentrated on her name.

“Jacynda…Lassiter.” She felt proud that she didn’t have to look at the tattered piece of paper in her pocket anymore. Maybe if she said it enough times, it’d feel right.

“Query?” a melodic voice asked. It came from the box.

“What is a query?” she asked.

“A question, inquiry, or quiz,” the box answered.

“Question.” What kind of question should she ask? “Who is Jacynda Lassiter?”

“Jacynda Alice Lassiter, born 9 December 2028, second child and only daughter of Dr. Harvey Lassiter and Alice Lassiter, née Jenkins.” The voice droned on, telling her of illnesses and education, of experiences and lovers she could not remember.

While the box spoke of someone named Christopher Stone, an image appeared on the screen. His face made her throat tighten and her chest ache. She had no idea why. By the time the voice ended, Cynda was in tears, floods of them washing down her face and tumbling onto her lap.

“Miss Lassiter?” She blinked to see the somber man standing near the edge of the sand. He looked worried. “What has upset you?”

She didn’t respond immediately, wiping away the tears with the back of her fist. He stripped off his shoes with more haste than usual and then hurried across the sand. When he sat on the pillow next to her, he offered a comforting smile.

“If you want to talk about what has distressed you, I’d be happy to listen. If you prefer silence, I will respect that.”

She sniffled. “I was asking the…” she pointed at the box, unsure of what to call it, “and it was telling me about Jacynda Lassiter.”



“That’s what made you sad?” he asked.

“Yes. I don’t remember any of it.” Another tear tracked down her cheek.

Her companion’s stiff posture eased. “Right now, the computer remembers it all for you. In time, you won’t need to ask it about Jacynda Lassiter because you’ll know who you are.”

Maybe he was right. The voice had gone on for a long time, telling of cities she’d visited and people she’d met. People she couldn’t remember.

“You’ve been all over the world in so many centuries. I envy you that.”

“What’s envy?” she asked.

“It means I wish I could have had a life as rich as yours.”

She pointed at the box. “Can I ask it another question?”

“Certainly.”

“Who is Theo…” She frowned, the name gone.

“Morrisey,” her companion completed with a chuckle.

The box answered instantly, spewing out information like a volcano. The voice kept going on and on.

“Too much,” she said. The box kept talking. “Stop!” It didn’t.

“End query,” Morrisey ordered. The voice halted. He chuckled. “You were testing me, weren’t you?”

She nodded. “I don’t know who to trust.”

“That is wise. Judge for yourself.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. She’d expected him to say she should trust him.

As if he knew what she was thinking, he explained, “You are rebuilding your mind. It is up to you to form your own opinions. It would be too easy for me to tell you what to believe, but then you wouldn’t be Jacynda Lassiter.”

That seemed right. “Can I have some more of the spicy orange tea?”

“That can be arranged.” He thought for a moment and then added, “I’ll put something on the computer for you. It’ll be like a game. You can look at a picture and match it with a word or a name.”