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"Yeah, yeah, buckle up, buttercup. Time travel ain't exactly safe."
I glanced over my shoulder and watched as they fumbled with the buckles on their seats. I wasn't entirely sure if Grumpy would be able to get his connected. An extension to the belt was probably needed. Somehow, though, the big git squashed his massive bulk into the belt and got everything locked into place.
He noticed me watching him and offered a glare back. "Haven't you got a job to do,Doctor?" he snapped.
"Don't mind me," I said. "Just checking to make sure the cargo's secure before launch."
"Gotta watch out for our safety, after all," Bryan added.
"Time travel can be rough," I added.
"Brutal," Bryan said.
"It would not be wise to anger him," Suit said.
"I thought anger was his default state," I countered.
"Anger him more, then," Suit smoothly replied.
Nice. He could play the game. Good to know.
"Coordinates check," Bryan muttered. "Flight is a go. Everybody secure?"
"Secured," I said. We both turned to look at the cargo.
"Well?" Bryan pressed.
"Just fly the damn thing," Suit snapped.
"We have procedures," Bryan said pointedly.
"I don't give a damn about your so-called procedures. Fly. Fix the rip. Then get us back to RATS."
"Okey dokey, then," Bryan offered cheerfully. "Launchin'."
He hit the button and outside a nebula would have formed. Inside, the roar of rocket engines sounded. I pressed myself back into my seat and closed my eyes, relishing the sensation of liftoff. It wasn't for the faint of heart, but in the relatively short amount of time I'd been flying with RATS, I'd come to love liftoff.
The engines altered in pitch, the module rocked, and then massive g-forces hit us as the Vehicle took off. I heard Suit grunt out in pain; he clearly hadn't positioned himself carefully enough. Grumpy was stoically silent, but I hadn't expected to get much out of him; he wasn't intelligent enough to understand just how utterly amazing this all was.
Silence met us as weightlessness briefly had us floating, and then the g-forces were back and the module touched down in 1958, Russia. It was a textbook landing. Despite his heckling of our watchers, I didn't think Fawkes wanted to risk upsetting them enough to get Margaret or us in trouble.
"You did that on purpose!" Suit yelled, unbuckling in record fashion. I was still checking Location and Time on my console and hadn't even started the arduous task of undoing the buckles, but suddenly I wished I was free to move around. It felt like being able to get out of hitting distance was imperative.
Bryan used one hand to release his seatbelt's catches, the other sweeping over the flight console and shutting down the Orion safely. The ease in which he did both told me just how experienced this Bryan was. I had flown with our Bryan once. It hadn't been a smooth trip. Jack's Orion had been tethered to Bryan's at the time, and it had felt like we were hitting Time's speed bumps. I hadn't been buckled in for that flight, so the experience had been painful. But it wasn't until now that I realised the fun-loving, prankster that was Bryan Fawkes was also a damn fine pilot.
Bryan turned to face the irate Suit, but his words were for me and not him; a clear snub.
"Location and Time, Dr Wylde?"
"Location and Time match, Doctor. 23rd of September, 1958, Star City, the Soviet Union."
"Very good, secure your station," Bryan added, his eyes all for Suit.
Bryan stood up. He wasn't a small guy. Wrestling all those 'gator's down in the Everglades in his youth had helped develop a nice set of broad shoulders and bulging arm muscles. He was tall, too. Not as tall as Grumpy, who I was happy to see was having trouble releasing himself from the seatbelt. But he was taller than Suit.
Looking down his nose at our overseer, he said in small and precisely spoken words that could be easily understood, "That was a good landing. You can't get much better than that. Time travel, Mr Black, is risky. Nothing ever goes smoothly. Be thankful we landed at all."
Damn, now I'd have to think of him as Mr Black and not Suit. I undid my buckle and stood up slowly, shoulder to shoulder with Fawkes.
