Romani Armada by Tracy Cooper-Posey Read Free Book Online Page A

to before the station was destroyed and take a record of the itinerary board?” He spread his hands as if it were an obvious thing to do.
    “You can’t,” Brenden objected.
    “Why not?” Demyan asked reasonably.
    “Because,” Brenden shook his head, “you just can’t. I can’t tell you a single moment in that security center when there wasn’t a dozen people around. You’d never find a strong enough marker and even if you could, it wouldn’t be empty.”
    “I’m not suggesting we jump right to the security center,” Demyan said evenly.
    “You’d be breaking a dozen statutes and codes,” Ryan warned. He lifted a hand. “I’m not saying ‘don’t’, but keep it sub-rosa .”
    Brenden was scowling. “I tell you, it can’t be done. I’d remember—” He stopped suddenly, as if a switch had been flicked off.
    Demyan stood up. “You remember something,” he said softly.
    Brenden held up an imperious hand for silence, frowning hard.
    Ryan could see Pritti shifting restlessly on her section of the bench, making Justin move out of the way. When Ryan’s gaze fell on her, she froze like a rabbit under a search light. Her eyes widened.
    “What is it, Pritti?”
    Pritti shook her head.
    Demyan stood up, walked around the table and over to the girl. He picked up her hand and drew her back to the other side. Fahmido moved along the bench to make room and Demyan sat Pritti next to him at the end. One of his hands rested on her shoulder. Despite Demyan’s reassuring hand, Pritti was vibrating with nervousness. Almost fear. Then she glanced up at Ryan and he realized with a start that she was afraid of him.
    Surprise rippled through him.
    Brenden thumped the table. “Got it...goddam! I have it now, Demyan.” He reached for one of the boards laid along the table and turned it on. He wrote quickly. “This is the time marker,” he said and handed the board to Demyan. “You can jump back to the arrival chamber at that time. I know it was clear then.”
    “Why do you know? Nayara demanded sharply. “I’m not sending Demyan back unless you convince me, first.”
    “Because he’s already done it,” Brenden said simply. “I remember it. I came into Security right after the opening of the New Olympic Games last month. It’s a marker, because, well, the bloody Greeks were hosting, weren’t they?”
    Ryan hid his smile. Despite thousands of years, Brenden had managed to keep many of the prejudices he’d learned as a Spartan and human. Even Ryan remembered the day, for Brenden had been in the foulest mood over the imagined slight to a Sparta that no longer existed except in Brenden’s memory.
    “I found Demyan taking photos of the itinerary board and when I asked him what he was doing, he gave me some bullshit answer about administrative record keeping.”
    “I’ll have to remember that,” Demyan murmured. He looked at Nayara. “Any objections?”
    Nayara shook her head. “Don’t get caught.”
    Demyan grinned. “I didn’t, did I?”
    Pritti leaned in to Demyan’s shoulder and spoke into his ear. He listened and shook his head. “No, you must tell them,” he said.
    “Tell us what?” Ryan demanded.
    Pritti turned to look at him, her eyes enormous. She bit her lip. “You must know. I went back, too. To the station.”
    Nayara glanced at Ryan and he could almost hear her thoughts. Tread cautiously! He studied Pritti. “When did you go back to?”
    She drew random patterns across the table with her finger. “To when they came.”
    “Gabriel’s people?” Ryan asked. Everyone had gone very quiet around them.
    She nodded, her big eyes very wide and locked on his face.
    “Why, Pritti?”
    “To take more off the station.” Her voice was almost a whisper, as if she was admitting to the most heinous crime.
    “But you took Ryan off the station,” Nayara said, sounding surprised.
    “He was the third,” Pritti said.
    Ryan pushed aside the fresh surprise slithering through him from the revelation