Reality Echo. James Axler

shook her head. “I’ll bring you some coffee. We’ll start over.”

      Kane rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t overlook that kind of a rant if I were you.”

      Brigid rested her hand on his shoulder. “Why? It is a sentiment you’d voice if you were too hurt and too tired to get back into the fresh air. In fact, I’d be afraid if you didn’t let some of your rough edges show. As much as we get called heroes, we’re still just normal people who are allowed to be grumpy and hold some loathing for others.”

      Kane took a deep breath. “Maybe…but you don’t have to disguise the fact that you’re babysitting me because I haven’t been officially cleared.”

      Brigid nodded. “Find us a table, okay?”

      “Sure,” Kane relented.

      Brigid cursed herself for being too quick to disregard Kane’s rant, but that was an emotional reaction. She went over the pure logic of the situation and she stood on her decision. Everything she knew about the man pointed to someone who’d make a glib statement, a joking condemnation. Throw in the effects of physical trauma he’d experienced, including one tortuous bit of combat that occurred before her eyes, and she really had nothing to flag in Kane’s behavior or speech.

      She prepared their coffee mechanically while her intellect threw up a flow chart of possibilities in her mind’s eye. The benefits of having a photographic memory allowed her to visualize a thousand different things at once. In one part of the flow chart, she ran before and after imagery of Kane from multiple angles, looking for details that didn’t quite match. Nothing showed up, which frustrated her. On another part of the flow chart, she remembered the details of the Thrush Continuum’s transdimensional Orb ship. The great ark was staffed by copies of Thrush from across a multitude of universes, though they all bore only minor variations of appearance.

      Brigid brought up her memories of the young boy into whom Thrush had implanted his mind. The child had been birthed by Erica van Sloan, and had seemed entirely human, except for an intellect that dwarfed anything Brigid had ever seen, and access to technologies such as the Heart of the World and the nanomachines that rebuilt Lakesh so adeptly. She concentrated on young Sam’s face, processing its similarities to the more adult versions of Colonel Thrush. Thanks to her eidetic mental imagery, she was able to compare facial bone structure, eyes, jaw profile and ears. She ran those pictures through her mind’s eye and sighed in disgust. If she hadn’t recognized the boy Sam as a younger version of Thrush with her infallible memory, then why would she be able to pick up such alterations and similarities now?

      “Because you’re being thorough,” Brigid whispered to herself.

      “Thorough about what?” a familiar voice asked. A scientist from the Manitius base stood by the table that Kane had selected. Daryl Morganstern gave a small wave to her. “Hi, Brigid. I wasn’t expecting you guys back so soon.”

      Brigid’s cheeks burned. “Well, you can see Kane took a knock to the head, so we’re letting him recuperate before we go running back into the field.”

      Morganstern nodded.

      “I know that he’s from the moon base, but I for one can’t place this guy,” Kane said.

      Brigid sighed. “That’s because I hadn’t introduced you two yet.”

      “Introduced us?” Kane asked.

      Morganstern shrugged. “Well…we’re sort of dating.”

      Kane shot a glance toward Brigid. “Dating?”

      Brigid set down the coffee cups. “Have a seat, Daryl.”

      “Thanks,” Morganstern replied. He sat next to Brigid but turned his chair to avoid eye contact with Kane. He’d lowered his head, hunching his shoulders in a turtlelike defensive posture.

      “Straighten up, Daryl. I’m not going to bite your head off,” Kane said. “Dating?”

      Brigid rolled her eyes. “Listen, I’m not sure if you can remember past that head trauma, but just because you seem to have been happy to learn from Sindri that we’re married in some alternate future, I’m not buying it.”

      Kane took his cup of coffee and took a sip. “We undid that timeline, didn’t we?”

      Brigid nodded. “And aren’t you the one who’s always fighting fate?”

      Kane lifted a hand to hold off Brigid. “Hang on, Baptiste. I’m not complaining. I just didn’t realize that you’d found someone worth dating from Manitius.”

      Brigid didn’t have to look back at Morganstern, who had put a hand up to his eyes to hide his wince. The lunar scientist was a theoretical mathematician and part of a new team that Lakesh had assembled to rework the quantum equations to further enhance and refine the interphaser and mat-trans system. He was also another person who had been gifted with a near perfect memory, and while Brigid was helping out with Lakesh’s interphaser program, they had started talking. Physically, Morganstern was average, and his eyes and hair were a plain brown, though he had a sweet smile and dimples. Still, the pair had developed a rapport.

      “There are quite a few nice people who came down to Cerberus,” Brigid stated. “Plus, he’s been a great chess opponent.”

      “I’ve played chess with you,” Kane said, sounding almost hurt.

      “We don’t need the board,” Morganstern said, voice low and brittle. He looked at Brigid. “Oh. I have you in check on board two.”

      Brigid nodded. “Game five, though, I’ll mate in six moves.”

      Morganstern winced. “I was hoping you hadn’t taken queen’s pawn into that equation….”

      Kane gave a low whistle. “Okay, maybe I haven’t played chess with you that well. How many games do you have going?”

      “We’ve tied and drawn so many times, we’ve expanded it to seven concurrent games,” Morganstern admitted.

      “And how many moves until mate?” Kane asked.

      Brigid glared at Kane. “Excuse me?”

      Morganstern flinched at the flare of anger on Brigid’s part. “I don’t—”

      “Oh, I know what he meant,” Brigid replied.

      “You bust my chops over little blue-eyed Indian babies,” Kane said.

      “That doesn’t mean you can be a prick and put poor Daryl on the spot,” Brigid said.

      Morganstern swallowed. “I think I’ll go get myself a soft drink.”

      “I’m not letting Kane drive you off,” Brigid said. She narrowed her gaze at the man as he took another sip of coffee. “That’s why I didn’t introduce you—because I knew you’d be a pig.”

      “Really, Brigid. I’m just thirsty,” Morganstern said, his voice rising an octave with obvious nervousness. “I’ll be right back.”

      Brigid puffed out her cheeks. “You’ve got a minute.”

      Morganstern nodded, a little too rapidly to be anything but on edge. He scurried out of his chair and headed toward the drink station.

      “I’m sorry, Baptiste,” Kane said. “He’s an okay-seeming guy.”

      “Yeah,” Brigid grumbled. “It’s nothing big for you, Mister Hero-man, to lay a slick line on one of those barbarian trollops you encounter on days ending with the letter y, but it’s not easy for women. He told me there’s a dozen moon base scientists who are afraid to talk to me because I’m out of their league.”

      “You are,” Kane admitted. “Guys are intimidated by pretty girls,” Kane continued. “Throw in the fact that you’re a resident superheroine, able to walk across dimensions by concentrating on funky rugs and regularly prance about in skintight uniforms…”