Time and Again

going to have to accept that."
    "But will he?"
    "When he first got here, J.T. was angry and resentful. He just wasn't able to understand Cal's feelings.
    But things have changed. For both of us."
    Slowly Libby turned. What was in her sister's heart was clearly written in her eyes. Libby felt a lurch of panic. "Oh, Sunny."
    "Hey, don't look at me like that." She grinned. "I'm in love, not terminally ill."
    "But what are you going to do?"
    "I'm going to go back with him."
    With an inarticulate cry, Libby threw her arms around Sunny's neck. She clung, rocking.
    "For Lord's sake, Libby, you're as bad as Jacob. It's only Philadelphia. You're acting like I'm going to set up housekeeping on Pluto."
    "There aren't any settled colonies on Pluto."
    With a strangled laugh, Sunny pulled away. "Well, I guess that leaves that out. We'll have to make do with a condo in Philly."
    Libby studied Sunny's face, and her expression gradually changed. The tears that had dampened her eyes dried. "You don't understand, do you?"
    "I understand that I love J.T. and he loves me. We haven't talked about life commitments yet, but it's only a matter of time." She stopped, wary. "Libby, why are you looking at me as though you want to wring my neck?"
    "Not yours." Libby's voice had firmed. She might be the quieter of the two, but when those she loved were threatened she could put an Amazon queen to shame. "The bastard."
    "I beg your pardon?"
    "I said he's a bastard."
    Sisterly love notwithstanding, Sunny's hackles were rising. "Now look, Libby-"
    She shook her head. She wasn't about to be stopped now. "Did he tell you he loved you?"
    Nearly out of patience, Sunny snapped off an oath. Then: "Yes."
    "And you've gone to bed with him."
    Sunny's eyes narrowed. "Have you been taking lessons from Dad?"
    "Of course you've gone to bed with him," Libby muttered, pacing the room. "He's made you fall in love with him, taken you to bed, and hasn't had the decency to tell you."
    Sunny's foot was tapping a rapid tattoo. "Tell me what?"
    "That he and Cal are from the twenty-third century."
    Sunny's foot stopped. In the sudden silence, she gaped at Libby. All that sun, she thought. Her poor sister had had her brain fried in Bora Bora. Slowly she crossed the room.
    "Lib, I want you to lie down while I get you a cold cloth."
    "No." Still fueled by fury, Libby shook her head. "You sit down while I go get you a brandy. Trust me.
    You're going to need it."
    When Cal stepped onto the bridge of the ship, the wave of nostalgia rolled over him like warm water.
    The cargo planes he piloted in the life he'd chosen satisfied his need to fly, but they weren't much of a challenge. Unable to resist, he ran his hands over the command console.
    "She's a beauty, J.T. New model?"
    "Yes, I thought it best to have it designed specifically for this trip. We made some adjustments for heat and maneuverability."
    Cal couldn't prevent his hand from gripping the throttle. "I'd like to take her up, see what she can do."
    "Be my guest."
    Cal laughed. "We'd be spotted in the first thousand miles and find ourselves on the front page of the National Enquirer."
    "Which is?"
    "You have to see some things for yourself." Reluctantly he turned away from the console and temptation.
    Again he studied Jacob's face, feature by feature. "God, it's good to see you."
    "How could you do it, Cal?"
    Blowing out a long breath, he sat in the pilot's chair. "It's a long story."
    "I read the report."
    Cal gave him a long, steady look. "Some things don't come through in reports. You've seen her."
    "Yes, I've seen her."
    "I love her, J.T. I couldn't begin to tell you how much."
    Jacob felt a spark of empathy and banked it down. He couldn't think of Sunny now. "We thought you were dead. Almost six months."
    "I'm sorry."
    "Are you?" Jacob swung to the viewscreen to stare out at the snow. "Five months and twenty-three days after you were reported lost, your ship crash landed about sixty kilometers from the McDowell base in the Baja. Empty. We had your reports." His gaze flashed back to his brother. "And I had to watch Mom and Dad grieve all over again."
    "I wanted you to know where I was. And why. J.T., I didn't plan this. You saw the log."
    "I saw it." His jaw set. "You should be dead. I calculated the probability factor of you pulling out of that void in one piece. There was none." For the first time he smiled. "You've always been a hell of a pilot, Cal."
    "Yeah, but you can't input fate into computer banks." He'd