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The holographic shows were scheduled to play every so often, day and night. It made the TCR feel like a holovid instead of real life. Shaking his head, he made his way up to Nicole and Jackson’s room, where he knocked three times.
The door slid aside, and he found the couple seated with glasses of champagne and a myriad of holopads spread across the coffee table.
He removed his hat and began spinning it by the brim as Nicole glanced up from the thin device she’d been examining.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Doyle said.
“Don’t be ridiculous, what have you figured out in regards to our little problem?” Nicole set aside her champagne glass, but Jackson, her mysterious and—as far as Doyle could tell—intelligent, boyfriend, took a sip of his and waited.
“I’m your tour guide,” Doyle started. It sounded better when Sadie had come up with it. “I take groups of ten on a hike toward the town, but we only visit from a distance—no different than if we hovered over it. What I can take them to is a ranch where they can see horses and various animals, as well as how people lived, er, live in 1888.”
Fidgeting, Doyle waited as Nicole stared, giving no indication of her reaction. With a lack of anything to do, he replaced his hat.
“Perfect,” Nicole announced. “But what about the ranch owners? The workers?”
“So, that’s a great question,” Doyle stalled, then swallowed. There was nothing for it. “The truth is, it’s only two people, a woman and her son. She doesn’t know about time travel, but the device landed on her property, so I had to make up a story, and she’s on board.”
Nicole’s eyebrow rose. “What’s the cover story?”
“She thinks we’re from Washington and it’s part of a top-secret initiative.” The back of Doyle’s neck burned when he said it out loud. For being one of the world’s foremost inventors, he was still a world class idiot. What a stupid cover story.
Nicole and Jackson exchanged looks and then burst out laughing. Great.
“That’s brilliant!” Nicole gasped, standing up and grabbing her champagne.
“It is?” Doyle asked as she toasted him.
“She bought it, yes?” Nicole asked.
Doyle nodded.
“The only issue with this plan,” Nicole said, tapping her chin, “is that you made the connection, so you have to lead the tours. I’ll need you to bring the cloak and any materials you need back and forth so you can work on it at every opportunity.”
Doyle’s mind raced. He’d be able to work with Teddy.
“You saved our asses, Doyle,” Jackson said, standing and massaging Nicole’s shoulders. “Good work. Start the tours first thing tomorrow.”
“What about the Watcher?” Doyle hedged, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut and not opened that particular can of worms.
“Let me handle them,” Nicole said, taking a sip of champagne.
Not trusting himself to speak, Doyle nodded again and left them to it. When he got back to his own room, he collapsed back on the bed with a ten-gallon grin. In the span of a day, he’d gone from likely candidate for saboteur scapegoat to hero. And he’d made out with a gorgeous woman. Not bad for a day’s work.
Doyle dozed off, wondering what fresh adventures tomorrow would bring.
