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Jess threw a narrow-eyed look at our Novitiate, I just managed to not roll my eyes at her.
"Ready?" I pressed.
"Ready," they both replied.
I hit the launch button, and outside the Vehicle, a nebula formed. Yellows and blues and reds and purples; stars being born and burning out. The roar of rocket engines blocked out all other sounds, and then the silence of space obliterated that thought as weightlessness took over our bodies. The engines kicked back in a moment or two later, and the g-forces crushed us all to our seats.
The MPCV touched down in 1958 without so much as a bump. It always left me feeling a little put-out. All that and we landed without so much as a rock of the module. Sometimes, time travel was simply spectacular.
Sometimes, it was lethal.
I checked that the coordinates matched and then the crew for injuries, and then headed toward the bathroom for our clothes. The Technical division would have placed them in the module as soon as the rip occurred. On this occasion, they had supplied clothing appropriate to 1958, Leningrad for two males and one female. Of course, Malcolm wasn't with us, Mimi was. So, only one female could exit the Vehicle on this trip or risk being inappropriately dressed for the era.
A Category One Rip, or Origin Event Rip, required someone to remain in the Vehicle at all times if possible, so without another thought, I handed Mimi Jessica's outfit, and ignored Malcolm's altogether.
I turned back to the module after dressing to find Jessica Harding blocking the exit, arms crossed over her chest, scowl firmly in place, upsetting all that perfectly donned make-up.
Mimi entered the bathroom without speaking, clearly aware any words from her right now would set Jess off. The love of my life left me alone with a woman who had at one time thought she could be my lover and had been bitterly disappointed when that wish had not played out.
"Is there a problem, Doctor?" I asked, adjusting the collar of my shirt. I hadn't donned the jacket yet, but my tie was in place and suddenly felt like it might be trying to strangle me.
Jessica Harding had that effect on men, I thought.
"Is it really wise to take her out there, Jack?" Jessica asked. "She's had enough training to maintain the security of the MPCV in our absence, but considering she is in fact grounded, wouldn't it be better for our careers to keep her from contaminating this time any more than necessary?"
I was surprised at Jessica's calm and controlled demeanour, and more surprised at her well-reasoned argument. She did have a point. I was breaking the rules again, but I could survive the fallout if I curtailed Mimi's interaction with our task here. Keeping her inside the Orion was the most appropriate use of her skills, and shehadlearned enough in the short time she'd been with us, to be left in charge of a module.
It made complete sense, and a part of me twisted uncomfortably at that notion. Mouse wouldn't like it, purely because anything to do with Sergei Ivanov brought her that much closer to her family. The ones still alive, that is, but to Mimi, I didn't think there was much of a distinction. She would want to be out there, facing off against Sergei, demanding to see her parents or Carrie, uncaring if she was breaking the rules or forcing Clive's hand.
Wanting one more chance to save them.
I wasn't worried about myself. I could handle a wrist slap or two. But Harding was right and if I didn't do what was expected of me, I would risk losing her respect and those of her contemporaries.
I had to do what was right for RATS.
And then Mimi stepped out of the bathroom dressed in a pretty 1950s-styled sun frock. A pale blue that matched her eyes with tiny white flowers dotted across the full calf-length skirt and the tight-fitting bodice.
I'd always had a penchant for 1950s women's fashion.
Harding's argument was completely forgotten. I wanted to walk down the street with this vision of perfection on my arm.
