and in the modern accent asked, “Have you found Tyler Sherwood?”
Helix stiffened, a snarl growing on his face. He said several things that Sheridan didn’t understand but that, judging from his tone, were either curses or insults. Then he said, “I’m almost to your office. I’m bringing men to talk to the girls.”
This part Sheridan understood perfectly. Helix was coming. And it wasn’t to talk. If he wanted to talk, he could do that from the screen. And why bring men?
She couldn’t follow the rest of the conversation. Her panic made it too hard to decipher the words. When the call ended, Jeth turned back to the group and used the twenty-first-century accent. “Helix is coming over to talk to you. He’ll be here soon.”
Sheridan put her hand on Echo’s to get his attention. “Is he going to take us somewhere?”
“He didn’t say he would.”
Jeth clipped his comlink back onto his belt in an unhurried fashion. “You needn’t worry. Helix won’t hurt you.”
Well, that depended on your definition of hurt , didn’t it? Perhaps he was coming to put one of those crystals in her wrist, or sterilize her, or some equally horrible thing that hadn’t come up in casual conversation yet.
Even Taylor, who’d been a continual stream of perky enthusiasm all afternoon, sat quietly on the couch growing pale.
Sheridan let go of Echo’s hand and stood up. She knew there was nowhere to run. She probably couldn’t find her way out of the building, let alone take up a covert existence in this society. Still, her gaze darted around the room, looking for an escape route.
Taylor stood up too. She walked toward Sheridan wearing a plastered-on smile. “You’ll have to forgive Sheridan. She isn’t used to the future, and I’m afraid she isn’t herself yet.”
Elise cocked her head so that her striped ponytail leaned onto her shoulder. “Then who is she now?”
Jeth nodded thoughtfully, almost to himself. “Schizophrenia. It was common in the old twenties.”
“I am not schizophrenic!” Sheridan said, probably louder than was necessary.
Taylor took hold of her arm and pulled her a few feet away. To Jeth, she said, “Sheridan will be fine in a minute. I’m going to give her a little pep talk, you know, help her pull herself together.”
Elise’s eyes narrowed in question. “A pep what?”
“Pull herself together?” Echo asked. “What does that mean?”
Taylor turned back to them, mouth open to explain, but then shook her head instead. “I’m going to talk to Sheridan privately for a minute, okay?”
It wasn’t really private. The wordsmiths sat nearby, undoubtedly waiting to see Sheridan do some sort of pulling stunts with her body parts.
Taylor leaned in and gave Sheridan a hug, only it wasn’t a hug, it was a way to whisper in her ear. “Could you possibly be acting worse?”
“You’re one to talk,” Sheridan said, and it wasn’t a whisper. She knew that at least Jeth heard her. He frowned in puzzlement as though this, too, was an unfamiliar piece of slang.
“At the rate you’re going,” Taylor whispered, “we’ll both have amnesia by nightfall. Start acting cheerful and unafraid, and whatever you do, don’t tell those scientists anything. You remember nothing before you came here.”
Sheridan’s voice dropped. “I’ve already said things about the past. If I say I don’t remember anything, the wordsmiths will know I’m lying. Then everyone will think I’m a low-ranking, schizophrenic liar.”
Taylor sighed in frustration, letting Sheridan know she still wasn’t getting the point. “Be as vague as you can about everything. Remember, someone else’s life depends on that machine not working.”
Taylor released Sheridan from the hug, and they walked back to the couch by the window. “Sheridan feels better now.”
Sheridan sat down. She didn’t feel better.
“A pep talk,” Jeth said. “Wasn’t that something cheerleaders did? You two aren’t planning on
Helix stiffened, a snarl growing on his face. He said several things that Sheridan didn’t understand but that, judging from his tone, were either curses or insults. Then he said, “I’m almost to your office. I’m bringing men to talk to the girls.”
This part Sheridan understood perfectly. Helix was coming. And it wasn’t to talk. If he wanted to talk, he could do that from the screen. And why bring men?
She couldn’t follow the rest of the conversation. Her panic made it too hard to decipher the words. When the call ended, Jeth turned back to the group and used the twenty-first-century accent. “Helix is coming over to talk to you. He’ll be here soon.”
Sheridan put her hand on Echo’s to get his attention. “Is he going to take us somewhere?”
“He didn’t say he would.”
Jeth clipped his comlink back onto his belt in an unhurried fashion. “You needn’t worry. Helix won’t hurt you.”
Well, that depended on your definition of hurt , didn’t it? Perhaps he was coming to put one of those crystals in her wrist, or sterilize her, or some equally horrible thing that hadn’t come up in casual conversation yet.
Even Taylor, who’d been a continual stream of perky enthusiasm all afternoon, sat quietly on the couch growing pale.
Sheridan let go of Echo’s hand and stood up. She knew there was nowhere to run. She probably couldn’t find her way out of the building, let alone take up a covert existence in this society. Still, her gaze darted around the room, looking for an escape route.
Taylor stood up too. She walked toward Sheridan wearing a plastered-on smile. “You’ll have to forgive Sheridan. She isn’t used to the future, and I’m afraid she isn’t herself yet.”
Elise cocked her head so that her striped ponytail leaned onto her shoulder. “Then who is she now?”
Jeth nodded thoughtfully, almost to himself. “Schizophrenia. It was common in the old twenties.”
“I am not schizophrenic!” Sheridan said, probably louder than was necessary.
Taylor took hold of her arm and pulled her a few feet away. To Jeth, she said, “Sheridan will be fine in a minute. I’m going to give her a little pep talk, you know, help her pull herself together.”
Elise’s eyes narrowed in question. “A pep what?”
“Pull herself together?” Echo asked. “What does that mean?”
Taylor turned back to them, mouth open to explain, but then shook her head instead. “I’m going to talk to Sheridan privately for a minute, okay?”
It wasn’t really private. The wordsmiths sat nearby, undoubtedly waiting to see Sheridan do some sort of pulling stunts with her body parts.
Taylor leaned in and gave Sheridan a hug, only it wasn’t a hug, it was a way to whisper in her ear. “Could you possibly be acting worse?”
“You’re one to talk,” Sheridan said, and it wasn’t a whisper. She knew that at least Jeth heard her. He frowned in puzzlement as though this, too, was an unfamiliar piece of slang.
“At the rate you’re going,” Taylor whispered, “we’ll both have amnesia by nightfall. Start acting cheerful and unafraid, and whatever you do, don’t tell those scientists anything. You remember nothing before you came here.”
Sheridan’s voice dropped. “I’ve already said things about the past. If I say I don’t remember anything, the wordsmiths will know I’m lying. Then everyone will think I’m a low-ranking, schizophrenic liar.”
Taylor sighed in frustration, letting Sheridan know she still wasn’t getting the point. “Be as vague as you can about everything. Remember, someone else’s life depends on that machine not working.”
Taylor released Sheridan from the hug, and they walked back to the couch by the window. “Sheridan feels better now.”
Sheridan sat down. She didn’t feel better.
“A pep talk,” Jeth said. “Wasn’t that something cheerleaders did? You two aren’t planning on
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