By Ron Hooft
Copyright Ron Hooft 2011
Published at Smashwords
Redmond Quain flung open the door to the lab and got a fist in the lower jaw for his carelessness. On most other days he would have been in touch with his inner voices. He would have felt a presence behind the entrance if nothing deeper. For all his training and skill he had missed this one, and it could have cost him his life.
It was a lucky thing Adra Davis was on the other end of that fist and not someone else, someone with more on their mind than revenge for being stood up. True, Baxter's was not the hot spot of the twenty second century. It was more McDonald’s than Chez Pierre; and he hadn't actually promised to be there. But he'd implied it.
Besides, that wasn't the point, she felt jilted, and in any century that was enough to usher forth the full wrath of even the most docile female. Redmond noted that of all the things that could be said about Adra Davis, docile was nowhere among them.
He'd always had a flair for attracting strong women. Usually it worked to his advantage, but sometimes...
"Adra, I can explain." he began, but what could he tell her? The truth was out of the question, she'd never believe him. Worst of all, if by some small miracle she did, it could compromise his whole mission; not to mention putting her life in danger.
Better to lie. The fact was: he'd never had any intention of seeing her again anyway. In three days from now he'd be finished his assignment and safely back in his chosen time, back with Rachel.
He decided he owed her at least part of the truth.