Madman's Dance (Time Rovers #3)(83)

“Cyn?” Ralph prompted. He was sitting a discreet distance from her, just out of range. She gazed down at the sandwich he’d brought her as a peace offering. This had to be Morrisey’s doing. Probably figured she wouldn’t hit her best friend. She hoped he was right.

“You always liked Eli’s food before,” Ralph complained as she picked at the interior of the sandwich critically.

“You sure I like tuna?” she asked.

“You used to. You eat raw fish now; you should be able to eat the cooked stuff, for heaven’s sake.”

To make him happy, Cynda took a bite. The taste was unbelievable. She moaned. “This…is good,” she said through a mouthful of food. “Better than chocolate, even.”

“That’s more like the old you.” He smiled. “Oh, Eli and his wife send their regards.”

She raised an eyebrow. He took the cue. “Eli Greenwald the Third. You call him E3. We used to eat there all the time, or go up to the park and have a picnic. You used to smuggle tomato seeds through him to your parents Off-Grid.”

E3? She shuffled through the files and then came up with a matching memory. She’d hand him her sandwich tote, the seeds hidden in the bottom, and he’d swap the contraband out for a sandwich and pickles. To the casual observer it didn’t appear they’d broken any laws.

Once she finished swallowing, she set the sandwich down reluctantly. “Thanks, Ralph.”

“No problem.” She noticed his own meal sat still wrapped in front of him.

“Wait a minute, let me work on it…” She screwed up her face in thought, hovering her hand over the wrapper like she could divine what was inside. “Roast beef and…something, right?”

“Roast beef, mayo, and American cheese,” he confirmed with an approving nod.

“We’ll go to this place together someday.”



Ralph’s smile faded. “We won’t get that chance if you go back to ’88, Cyn. They’ll kill you this time.”

She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“It’s not just about you. Rumors are floating around that TPB has threatened to jail Morrisey if there are any further unauthorized transfers. They’ll close the company for good, sell it off to the highest bidder.”

“I doubt they’ll be able to pull it off,” she said, hoping that was the case.

“Is one Victorian’s life worth all that?” he argued.

Though the question annoyed her, it was a valid one. “I believe it is, Ralph,” she told him. “Keats cannot die that way.”

“Was there something going on between you two?”

Cynda looked up, startled. “There might have been, before this.” She tapped her temple where the mark still darkened her skin. “I don’t know now. I think we took a left turn along the way.” She took another bite of her sandwich.

“What about Dr. Montrose?”

“Same story, I think.” Is he jealous, or just curious? Another thought surfaced. “Were you and I ever...you know?”

Her friend shook his head. “We would just drive each other crazy.”

That made sense. She set the sandwich down again. “You’re not eating, so what’s really going on here, guy?”

Ralph’s oval glasses were off in a heartbeat, being polished with the bottom of his shirt. She’d learned that was his way of dealing with stress. “You’re my best friend, Cyn. Hell, almost my only friend. We’ve been like twins since we first met. If you go to ’88 and don’t come back…”

“We’ve always been there for each other, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, we have.”

“Then we will in the future. I’ll know you have my back, Ralph. That’s why I’ll be the one kicking butt this time, not the other way around.”

“You’re too damned stubborn,” he grumbled. “Morrisey said you’d get better, that you wouldn’t give in. I wasn’t so sure.”



“So the Genius wins this round,” she joked.

“Don’t remind me.”

“You don’t like him, do you?”

Ralph’s brows furrowed. “Sometimes I do. Mostly I’m not sure. It’s funny. I used to think he was a god. Now I can’t figure him out.”

“Makes two of us.” She pointed at his sandwich. “Eat, will you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mom.”

She rolled her eyes back at him and returned to her own meal, savoring both the sandwich and the unshakeable love of her best friend.

~??~??~??~



The moment Cynda heard the door to the botanical garden whoosh open, she sighed. So much for her quiet meditation. Morrisey stopped a short distance away, not joining her on the bench as was customary.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” he announced. “I’ve run some computer models. The alternate thread is gaining ground.”

“Oh, boy.”

“This is something different than a Time Incursion. Usually an alternate thread dies out rather quickly. It’s my guess that the instability in 1888 is contributing to the problem.”

“Defoe’s there. Why hasn’t he fixed it? He’s Rover One, after all.”