Wormhole (The Rho Agenda #3)(7)

Hearing shouts of approval echo across the room, Mark raised his head to see Jennifer and Heather applauding vigorously.

Even Jack nodded his appreciation. “Now that’s how the tango is supposed to be danced.”

“Wonderfully done,” Janet said as Mark pulled her back to her feet. Turning to Jennifer and Heather, she continued. “You’ve practiced these dances many times. Now I want you to play that dance back in those perfect little memories of yours. Then, one at a time, I will call you up. I want each of you to dance with Mark, exactly as I did.”

“With Mark?” Jennifer sputtered.

“Exactly as I did,” Janet continued. “Everything we do here has a purpose. We’ve been teaching you all the Latin and classical ballroom dances because if you can dance them with abandon, you can dance anything. In the world of which you are now a part, dancing will open a surprising number of doors for you. But first, you must look like you’re having fun and you must be convincing. People should see you dance and wish they were your partner.”

Janet cast a wicked smile at Mark that made him look away. “Just now, I believe you were having fun. I want you to repeat that with Jennifer, then Heather. And I better not notice any difference, or it’s going to be a very, very long night.”





Jennifer sat on the grass, flanked by Mark and Heather, watching the glorious sunset paint the western sky in steadily darkening shades of magenta and purple. Less than a hundred yards up the hill behind them, Janet played with Robby as Jack leaned over the smoking barbeque grill.

“I’m worried about Mom and Dad.” Jennifer surprised herself by saying what she’d been thinking.

Beside her, Heather tensed. “I know. It’s driving me crazy. I’ve been so homesick. But for them...not to know we’re even alive. It gives me nightmares.”

Mark glanced over his shoulder, a quick look to see if Jack and Janet remained out of earshot. “We always talk about it, but we never do anything.”

“Jack told us not to,” Heather replied.

“We never should have asked him,” Jennifer said. “We knew what he’d say.”

“He’s right, you know.”

“I don’t. Not anymore.”

“Me either,” said Mark. “It’s been too long.”

Jennifer felt a lump rise in her throat, leaving her voice husky. “I’m just so scared. If we do it, hack our way onto their laptops, leave them a message. It might get them killed. It might give away our location.”

“And if we don’t?”

“That scares me too.” Jennifer wiped a tear from her cheek. “How long can they go on, not knowing we’re OK?”

Lately, images of her mom sobbing inconsolably had begun crawling through her mind.

A shrill whistle from the direction of the house cut off the conversation.

“Guess dinner’s ready,” Mark said, rising to his feet. “Don’t let Jack see you crying.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

As they walked up the hill toward the waiting dinner, Jennifer pulled forth the required memories, letting her mask settle in place. As hard as it was, the decision could be put off for a while longer.

In the meantime, they’d gut it out and be the people Jack and Janet expected them to be.





A curly wisp of smoke wafted up from the table. An acrid odor emanated from the soldering iron and irritated Heather’s nose, causing it to crinkle as she sniffed away the oncoming sneeze.

“Waiting on you, Mark.” Jennifer’s jibe barely registered, though, as Mark remained focused on bridging the last delicate trace.

Setting the iron back in its spring stand, Mark leaned over and snapped the plastic cover in place. “That’s it.”

He reached across the laptop, plugging the dongle into the forward USB port.

“It hasn’t cooled,” Jennifer said. “You’ll break it!”

“Trust me.”

“You said that last week,” Heather said, although she had considerably more faith in his electrical craftsmanship than her comment indicated.

“Power spike. Not my fault.”

Heather laughed. “OK. OK. Let’s just finish this off and test it.”

Despite the banter, she could see Mark was excited. They all were. If this worked, it marked a revolution in the capabilities of their computer lab, intelligence center, or whatever they chose to call the thatch-roofed outbuilding that housed the Frazier computer and communications complex. They had already modified the circuit boards in all the laptops to add built-in subspace receiver transmitters, but this would enable them to add subspace communications capabilities to any computer, just by plugging in a small USB device.

Heather let her gaze wander the room, pausing at the sealed door leading into the adjacent “clean room.” It represented the culmination of their efforts these last three months. Still, as amazing as their electronics work had become, it only formed a part of Jack’s sci-fi weekends, the other part being their ongoing headset exploration of their starship’s data banks.

When they’d arrived at the Frazier hacienda, it had been mid-January, Bolivian summer. They hadn’t recognized the pressure cooker in which they were about to be immersed. To be fair, Jack and Janet had clearly laid out the training program, and Mark, Jen, and Heather had all volunteered. Knowing what she knew now, she would still have done it...just not with the same degree of enthusiasm.