Guy hollered and writhed in pain. It was pure torture. He was hurtling through the whiteness of time, and it had never been more unwelcome and bleak in his life. Only—something touched him. This had never happened before. The blinding white flames licked at his eyelids, but he lifted them and there she was, still holding him around the neck, her eyes closed as she cried. His arms were weak, but he pulled her in tight. Soon . . . Very soon, love, we will land. Fwwwwiiiiiiip, fwwwwiiiiip, fwwwwiiiiiip. The whirling wind of space tore their clothes and adornments away. Her hair lashed at his bare chest and across his jaw. Soon. He had to close his eyes again. The vertigo was insane. He almost vomited, until suddenly, it was deathly still. Craaaaaack! They crashed onto the outer grounds of the agency—a sort of lavish park in the back. Shit! They had to move fast. Had to run, but his leg had been broken. Hadn’t it? He flexed both his legs, and the pain had disappeared. Had his body convinced him he was in absolute hideous torment so she would react that way, and they would be shot to his present?
