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20
Jack, It's Bad
Jack
Wordsoongotoutthat Mimi had killed Sergei Ivanov. I didn't hear it from her lips, or even from Anderson's lips. I heard it from Simon Cathcart's lips, right before they took me away.
I'd wanted nothing more than to get in that Orion and check on Mimi. To make sure she was okay. I didn't think she was; she'd clearly been injured in the altercation. And then once I'd heard about Sergei, I knew Mimi would not be in the slightest okay.
It didn't matter that Ivanov was responsible for her family's deaths. It didn't matter that she'd seen her twin sister — albeit an alternate universe version of her twin sister — working with that maniac in a Lunik module. Nor did it matter that she'd seen her alternate parents doing his bidding and harming RATS personnel.
Sergei Ivanov had a lot to answer for to Mimi and her family, and yet, I knew killing him would not have come easy to her.
I wanted with every fibre of my body to wrap her in my arms, to take her away from Shadowship, to protect her, soothe her, comfort her. And then I wanted to kill Sergei Bloody Ivanov all over again.
But I couldn't. Because I'd been removed from the hangar. Two of Anderson's burly SWAT team members forcefully removed me. One on each arm, frog-marching me out into the corridor and then slamming the double doors closed in my face. It was obvious I couldn't get back in there. Even if I tried an alternate route, they'd simply throw me back out again, or place me under house arrest again, or maybe spice things up a bit and shoot me.
For now, I couldn't go to Mimi, but I could go to Bryan and find out what happened.
I passed Jessica Harding and Mikaela Pratt on my way toward the infirmary. Jessica offered me a simpering smile, but Pratt's eyes were alight with humour; a cocky glint to them I did not much like. I turned to watch them walk away down the hallway. Jess swung her hips in a fashion she must have thought enticing. Pratt stomped her feet with determination, glaring at any poor sod who got in her way as if she were the most important person in the building.
I often wondered whether we'd made a mistake promoting that particular batch of Novitiates so early. We'd had little choice after losing so many Interns in such a short period of time. But still, perhaps it would have been better to double up on Novitiates in the Orions for a time until a better batch of Novitiates went through the Academy first.
It was irrelevant now, of course. They were technically Interns and in the case of those two, in particular, entitled Interns who knew how to throw their weight around. We'd created the monster. I supposed we had to live with it.
Pushing any further thoughts of Harding and Pratt from my mind, I continued on towards the sickbay.
Even here, this far into Shadowship itself, the news was spreading like wildfire. Ivanov dead. Mimi, the killer. RATS saved. Maybe even Time itself saved. All hail another glorious day at the Royal Academy of Time Surgeons.
I couldn't seem to feel the elation that everyone else did. Until I saw Mimi and knew for a fact that she wasn't hurting over this, I couldn't celebrate the win. I'd never consciously thought about what I would do once I cornered Sergei. I'd certainly had the opportunity to shoot him a time or two by now. Whether by choice or chance, my bullets had never connected fatally.
I wondered now if I would have had the courage to do what Mouse had done on her most recent trip.
Had she planned it? Or was it an act of opportunity? Was it self-defence? Or simply revenge for killing her family? I told myself, I knew Mimi Wylde quite well by now. She was not an aggressive person. She had a temper on her when pushed too far, but more often than not, Mimi joked her way out of tight situations. She made light of the heavy, made fun of the oppressor.
Mimi Blossom Wylde was not a heartless killer.
It had to have been self-defence, but where I had fired in self-defence and in defence of others and my bullets had not found their mark, Mimi's had. That was all that separated us from her. We'd failed, where Mimi had succeeded.
But what would this do to her?
I fisted my hands, frustrated again to be locked out of the hangar. Surely, though, Mimi would be brought to the infirmary, eventually. Anderson couldn't interrogate her forever inside that Orion beside Sergei's lifeless body.
Of course, that's why he was doing it there; cornering her as soundly as a mouse caught in a trap. If the sight of Sergei's body wasn't enough to unsettle her, Anderson wasn't even giving her enough time to recover from a Time Corrected Event.
Those could be quite draining. In fact, if I remembered correctly, the last TCE that involved Clive Crawford had put him into a deep sleep for over twenty-four hours. Mimi would be exhausted, possibly injured and hurting physically, as well as emotionally, and being subjected to Anderson's interrogation.
It was cause for great concern. I almost turned on my heel and marched back to the hangar, and to hell with Anderson's goons and their long-nosed rifles. But doing something so rash, so soon, was not advisable. I wouldn't be any help to Mouse if I was placed under house arrest again.
The infirmary wasn't under guard when I reached it, which was a bonus. I walked in without any opposition and located Bryan and Jones, our last standing medic. He wasn't a qualified doctor, but Davy Jones was a good EMT under pressure.
"How is he?" I asked.
"Out cold," Jones said. "Concussion, but I've corrected that. More likely the way they Returned."
"The TCE."
Jones nodded, attaching electrodes and IV lines and God knows what else to Bryan's immobile body.
