Page 7 of Double Take (Cosmic Mates #5)
Three days later
“Are you sure this vehicle is safe?” Bragg shifted on the seat to avoid the spring popping through the torn upholstery. The ancient metal contraption rolled on bald rubber wheels over the wet road.
It had been sunny when they left Willow Wood, but clouds soon rolled in and darkened and then released a steady rainfall.
“Safest vehicle on the road,” she said cheerfully.
“It’s the only vehicle on the road.” They’d passed very few transports, and none for the past hour.
She glanced at him. “Nervous?”
“As long as I’m with you, I’m sure I’ll be safe,” he joked. As long as he was with her, he’d be happy. This was the best day of his life. “Terra Nova is quite…rural.” Between villages lay open countryside, with just a few scattered rustic cottages.
“That’s what I like about it.” Faith gripped the steering apparatus and squinted through the rain-splattered screen. Two little arms swished at the water, but they streaked more than they cleared.
“You didn’t find the desolation an adjustment?” How did one survive in the country? What did one do ? Earth was technologically advanced, fast-paced, high-energy. Even Patagonia had been urbanized, skyscrapers boxing in the pastoral sheep ranches. Terra Nova was quiet, sleepy, slow, primitive—like the vehicle. Had Earth emptied its museums of mechanical artifacts and shipped them to Terra Nova?
“A good adjustment,” she said. “There’s something to be said for having room to stretch, time to reflect.”
Reflection had worked in his favor. After meeting in the café, he’d given her a day to mull over his request before contacting her again. He’d been thrilled when she’d invited him to accompany her to a craft fair.
He wished to spend as much time with her as he could because when he left in three weeks, that would be the end. He couldn’t risk seeing her again or applying for more leave. After never taking a day of leave in five years, suddenly he started taking it? Dark Ops was already suspicious—hence, Marshall’s call. For her sake, he shouldn’t have come to Terra Nova at all.
However, leaving now wouldn’t prevent or solve anything, so he may as well finish his furlough. “I was surprised you asked me to come along with you.”
“I surprised myself,” she said.
“Do you regret asking me?”
“Not so far.” She grinned. A man could live and die for one of those smiles. “I’m not usually so impulsive,” she said.
I’m glad you were. “I’m not impulsive either.” Every assignment was meticulously and strategically planned. Situations could and did go awry, but not for a lack of forethought.
She arched her brows, humor glinting in her eyes.
“Except for coming here,” he admitted. But was that true? Faith had never been far from his mind. Hadn’t the idea of seeking her out been growing? Hadn’t he envisioned seeing her hundreds of times in dozens of ways? Marshall’s pronouncement about her joining Cosmic Mates had been a catalyst that motivated him to act.
“There’s always that exception,” she said wryly.
“Of course.” He paused. “So, why did you make an exception for me?”
“Maybe I needed the muscle,” she said flippantly. “You did load up all the heavy crates.” Eight wooden boxes of pottery filled the rear of the vehicle. It appeared there’d once been a second row of seats, but they’d been removed a long time ago, judging from the rusted bolts in the floor.
He’d lug any number of crates if it bought time with her.
“Or maybe for closure, to get answers to the questions I have about Mark.”
He’s gone. I’m here. He’d been nursing the fantasy she’d invited him along to get to know him . Stupid. He’d spent five years pining for another man’s wife who didn’t know he existed. He cared too much when he shouldn’t care at all. But if love was rational, most people might make different choices.
Spending time with her would be a torturous exercise in futility.
“But mainly because you intrigue me,” she said.
Intrigued was a start. He’d take it. His spirits soared.
“The differences between you are subtle, but there are so many of them, it’s hard to believe I mistook you for him.”
He tried not to show how strongly her words affected him, but inside, he grinned like an idiot.
“Besides, your references were impeccable.”
“My references?”
“Rusty likes you.”
“Seeing me again depended on a cat?” He’s always liked animals but never had the pleasure of owning a pet.
“Not really.” She grinned. “But he is a great judge of character.”
He loved how they could joke around and how she seemed comfortable with him. He should stop stressing and go with the flow, let her set the pace, be there to be whatever she needed. Stop worrying about the future and enjoy the present, focus on her pretty eyes, her fragrance, her sensual voice.
Her long, delicate fingers gripped the steering apparatus surely and capably. Personal transports on Earth operated on autopilot. A manual override allowed people to fly or drive the vehicle—if they knew how, which few did anymore. “You’re a good pilot,” he said. “Driver, I guess, since the wheels are on the ground.”
“First time!”
“You haven’t done this before?” Alarm shot through him.
She laughed, a sound of such gaiety and lightness, he’d gladly risk his life to hear it.
“Just kidding. I took a crash course in driving when I got here.”
“No pun intended.”
“No pun intended. Amity and I needed transportation. A neighbor offered us this vehicle for a good price.”
He hoped they’d gotten a steal. Rust appeared to be the glue holding the contraption together.
“Having a vehicle gives us flexibility to promote All Fired Up. This planet has been a great boon to the business. Pottery sales are much better here than on Earth.”
“I’m happy for you,” he said. “Your art deserves recognition.”
“Again, thanks for coming with me. It’s hard to man a booth solo.”
“Happy to help.” Wild horses couldn’t have kept him away.
As she drove, level terrain became rolling hills, the narrow road winding up and over, down and around. Rain continued to fall, beating a tattoo on the metal roof. The rhythmic drumming and vehicle’s sway was soothing, almost mesmerizing.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she said.
“Can’t promise an answer, but go ahead,” he replied flippantly.
“What is it like being a clone? Did you always know what you were?”
Did I know I was created to be a copy? He stifled the ever-present bitterness and replied, “Yes. My future was predetermined. As soon as I could function, they trained me to step in. You could say I have a master’s degree in Hammond. It started before I was born. Recordings of his voice—speaking, shouting, laughing—were piped into the gestation tank. Then, afterward, I watched endless vids. Acting coaches tutored me. I had to memorize factoids, dates, names relevant to him, and they tested me on the material. I got judged on how well I walked, talked, sneezed, ate, laughed like him.
“While he still lived, I spoke with him at length, sometimes shadowing him at HQ. There was a practicum, a final exam, in which separately we interacted with other operatives in a skit observed by a jury of fellow operatives. They had to decide who was the original and who was the copy.”
He let out a bark of ironic laughter. “I did Hammond better than Hammond. Seven out of the twelve chose me as the real deal.” Until that time, his progenitor had been mockingly accepting, referring to Bragg as “mini-Mark,” and treating Operation Double Take as a lark. After the practicum, Hammond changed his behavior and manner of speaking to undermine the impersonation. However, Bragg knew him too well to be fooled.
He was not without empathy. Having an understudy waiting offstage served as a constant reminder Dark Ops did not expect you to survive. They didn’t expect Bragg to live. Hammond 3.0 already floated in the gestation tank. Nobody was indispensable.
She shot him a sideways glance. “You do Mark better than Mark? Show me.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Please.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
The vehicle labored up a hill.
“Please.” Her gaze turned pleading.
He could deny her nothing.
He spread his legs wider, claiming more of the seat, his posture assuming an arrogant confidence. He curled his lips into a smirk and lobbed a dismissive glance in her direction. “Hey, babe. Been a long time,” he drawled in a bored tone.
Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “Jesus!”
A deer bounded up from the draw and sprinted across the road.
“Watch out!” he yelled.
She slammed on the brakes and jerked the steering apparatus hard.
The vehicle fishtailed on the wet road and careened over the embankment.