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I shook my head and tried to get comfortable. They'd cuffed my wrists behind my back, and cuffed me again at the ankles. It was ironic, really. Bryan and I had done the same to Black and his Idiot.
I wondered, then, if Bryan was alright. He hadn't come to before the medic took him away. At least, he was still at RATS. I assumed he was still at RATS. I didn't know, anything could have happened since we'd left.
My next thought was for Jack. When he found out what Anderson had done to me, he would be inconsolable with fury. I worried about what he would do. He had a temper on him. An arrogant temper. He wouldn't even stop to think of the consequences of lashing out at Anderson in retaliation for sending me back; he'd think he could win that battle, but I wasn't so sure anymore.
Anderson had proved himself a more capable opponent than any of us had thought.
"You really think Anderson has RATS' best interests at heart?" I asked the Orion at large.
"Doesn't matter if he does or doesn't," Pratt told me. "He's in charge now and Crawford's not."
"If Jack plays his cards right, he could become Deputy Director," Jess said, sounding excited. "I'm going to put a good word in for him."
"Better watch out for Winchester, then, 'cause I saw him schmoozing Anderson last night."
"Anderson will see past that old windbag. I'll make sure of it. Jack is a good Surgeon. A great one." She glanced over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at me. "As long as he's not distracted."
"Anderson won't want a RATS Surgeon as his deputy," I said. "He doesn't wantanySurgeons to remain at the Academy. Hell," I added, "he doesn't even want the Academy to be an Academy. How do you feel about it being called The Royal Tourism Board of Time Travel? No, hold on a minute, it'll lose its royal patronage. The King liked Crawford, didn't he? I'm not sure he'll agree with the Prime Minister's plans for RATS, but then, you're no longer living in a democracy."
"What are you talking about? Jess, what's she talking about? Of course, we're a democracy!"
"Just ignore her, Mikaela. She's trying to get under your skin. Pathetically, I might add. What would she know about our country and the 23rd century?"
"Maybe I see more of the truth than you do," I said, "because I'm not blinded by complacency. Maybe I'm not the frog slowly boiling to death in the pot because I've not been here long enough to miss the slow increase in heat. I have fresh eyes. And what my fresh eyes are showing me is you're in for a whole lot of whoop-ass from your government shortly."
"What the bloody hell is whoop-ass?" Pratt demanded.
"A beating," I offered and shrugged. "In this particular situation, it's a metaphor."
"A metaphor?"
"A figure of speech applied to an object or action to which it is not literally applicable."
"Would you just shut up!" Harding yelled at me. "Mikaela, put a gag on her."
"Gladly."
"Now, hang on just a minute," I rushed to say. "Shouldn't we discuss this? Anderson is taking over RATS, sweeping it clean. Aren't you the least bit worried?"
"Not your problem anymore, is it?" Pratt said and promptly wrapped a cloth around my head, pulling it tight, making my lips spread painfully.
"Ow," I mumbled, the sound muffled and indecipherable around the gag. But that didn't stop me from trying to speak. "Oo id at on ur-us."
"What did she say?"
"I've no idea and I don't really care. We're coming up on our destination."
"Why'd it take so long?" Pratt asked, taking her seat again and buckling up. I'd rather hoped she'd forget about that and go flying when this Vehicle inevitably crash-landed.
Although come to think of it, she'd probably land on top of me if she was unsecured, and shewasa fairly big girl. It wouldn't be pretty.
"This thing flies like a drunk tug," Harding muttered. "Hold on, this might get bumpy."
"Hear that, Slugger? You better hold on to something. Oh, sorry, you can't. Boohoo, how sad."
I glared at her.
"Ooh, Slugger's angry, Jess. I wonder whatever will she do about it."
