Page 2 of Hot Zone

As soon as her lungs and eyes cleared enough to do it, Alex took a head count of the lab’s staff. All present and accounted for. Except, of course, Tessa Marconi. She was gone. But to where? Or more precisely, when?

Tessa slammed into something hard and cold, and lay on her side, gasping for air. Nobody had warned her the landing would be so violent. But hey. She felt pain. That meant she was alive, right? Relief washed over her.

Slowly she pushed up onto her hands and knees. And promptly got tangled up in the loosely draped fabric of a long cloak. Appropriate clothes had materialized around her during the transit. In addition to flinging operatives all over creation, Athena Carswell was also able to produce period clothing and implant local language and customs in her agents as part of their time jumps.

Thank goodness. Showing up here buck naked was the last thing Tessa needed. Wherever here was. Or more to the point, when.

In theory, time travel was as precise a science as flying a jet halfway around the world and landing on the first brick of a specific runway. But only a handful of people had ever done it, and only a few of them successfully.

Inky blackness swathed her. If she was lucky, that meant nobody had seen her blink into existence. She was in a small chamber of some kind with a stone floor. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she made out a faint outline, maybe a doorway.

Using the wall at her back for support, she crawled to her feet. Dizziness washed over her, and she leaned her forehead against the cool stone until the sensation passed. Still a little woozy, but burning with curiosity to find out when and where she was, she pushed away from the wall.

Something scuffed outside and she leaped to one side of the opening, plastering herself against the wall. Her head spun once more and she blinked hard to clear the stars from her eyes as she listened frantically for whoever was out there.

What she wouldn’t give right now for riot gear and a high-powered flashlight! But the ancient time into which she’d hopefully jumped precluded any modern equipment. Except, of course, a tiny emergency first-aid kit with antibiotics, painkillers, suture gear and a tiny toothbrush and dental floss.

Athena had also promised to send Tessa a knife, fire-starting stones, a waterproof pouch and a handful of gold coins. There should be a few other sundries in her bag—a comb, some dried berries and nuts, a length of rope.

And then there was her arm cuff, of course. The warm bronze armband clasped her left biceps reassuringly, holding the all-important quartz crystal imprinted with Tessa’s unique brain wave pattern. Pressing upon the crystal would signal Athena to bring her back into the twenty-first century. It was Tessa’s only ticket home.

Cautiously, she peered outside the tiny chamber. A towering stone column cast a deep shadow over the doorway. She’d seen similar columns in ancient ruins, but this one was intact and didn’t show any wear and tear.

As her eyes continued to adjust to the dark, she noticed colorful images painted upon its surface.

She’d done it. She’d arrived in some ancient time, and from the looks of that column, near some grand civilization.

Somewhere beyond the magnificent column, a dim flicker of light announced the presence of humans. She stepped through the doorway and stopped, staring in wonder. An entire colonnade of pristine Ionic columns stretched away in both directions.

Could it be? Was she really standing in 480 B.C.?

A thrill of delight raced through her.

“You there! What are ye about?” a gruff voice challenged from behind her.

She whipped around, her hands coming up into defensive readiness. A short, thick man. Shaved head. Bare chest. Walnut-colored skin. Dressed in a short affair that was part skirt and part diaper. But what riveted her attention was the lethal-looking scimitar he held, as if intimately familiar with its use.

“State your business, woman!”

Athena said Tessa had merely to think in modern English, and information implanted in her brain during the jump would make the translation to Persian as the words came out of her mouth.

To test her supposed ability to speak the ancient tongue, Tessa spoke cautiously to the guard. “I’m lost.”

“Who be ye?”

“I am Tessa of Marconi, a noblewoman in my homeland, but a stranger to this place.”

The soldier’s eyes narrowed. “Where be thy retainers and slaves if ye be noble?”

The guard definitely understood her. Whatever language she was speaking was appropriate to this place and time. She replied, “There has been an accident. My ship was wrecked upon these shores. I am alone.” It was the cover story they’d agreed upon back in the lab in consultation with several historians who were experts in this time period. Assuming she was when she thought she was.

The man still looked suspicious. Crud.

In her army experience, being in charge wasn’t always about rank. Sometimes it was purely a function of who stepped up and took charge. She announced with authority, “Take me to whoever receives noble visitors.” For good measure, she added firmly, “Immediately.”

Apparently well-conditioned to following orders, the guard bent low at the waist in a bow. She followed as he walked briskly down the colonnade. Ahead of them, a buzz of noise gradually resolved itself into laughter, shouting and music, as if a party was in full swing.

Guards dressed like her escort were spaced at regular intervals along the colonnade. Shallow bowls rested on chest-high bronze stands, holding some sort of flaming oil that lit the open-air hall. The gaiety grew louder. The smells of spicy food, rancid wine and sweat assaulted her nose.

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