Edge of Time by Susan M. MacDonald Page A

Slowly, the houseboat pulled away from the jetty.
    Alec grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself as the little craft rocked uneasily. Darius switched gears and the engine roared.
    Alec ran over to the doorway and leaned out. The sharp salt spray blurred his vision for a second and the breeze, growing as the boat’s speed increased, whipped his hair into his face, but even so, Bjorn didn’t appear even aware that they were leaving him behind.
    The
Inga
entered the open harbour and swung starboard. Darius opened up the engine and the boat strained forward. For several minutes, no one said anything. Riley was rocking back and forth on the futon looking stricken. Darius was absorbed in navigating the small craft out of the harbour towards the open ocean. Alec was frozen in disbelief.
    Riley had been right all along.

13

    A lec sat down on the sofa beside Riley, unsure of what to do while Darius ignored them both and steered the houseboat beyond the safety of the harbour. Riley leaned back and closed her eyes, every line of her body screaming to be left alone.
    There wasn’t anything Alec could do. Jumping overboard didn’t seem like a reasonable option. Within minutes they were far out in choppy water, filled with huge seagoing vessels that would easily mow down a tiny body bobbing in their path. There wasn’t a phone to call the police and no sign of the Coast Guard. And besides, every time he tried to stand up and head outside to the deck an incredible sense of “not wanting to” washed over him, making him shiver. Only keeping still abated the sensation. Was Darius using some kind of weird mind control on him?
    Alec rooted through the crumpled newspapers on the futon for something to do. It was the morning edition, he noted, the same day he’d been grabbed in Toronto. That meant that he had yet to go missing at home. Or did it? Could he be in both places at the same time, or was he not at home right now? And if he weren’t at home now, how would he be kidnapped in order to end up here? Unable to figure out the rapidly confusing mess of time travel, he perused the sports section. It wasn’t until he finished that and the entertainment news that he bothered with the headlines:
Riots in Toronto, Unprecedented Violence
.
    The story went on to list several shootings, a looting of a mall overnight and multiple attacks on the subway system. The chief of police threatened a curfew. Some grey-bearded professor at the University of Toronto spouted on about economic unrest fueling the public’s anger and Alec found himself grinning grimly at the photo. It wasn’t economics. It was Rhozan. Whoever he was.
    Darius slowed the engine down and hooked a small rope to the steering wheel, effectively locking the steering in place. He stalked over to the table, not quite so easy to do with the boat rocking back and forth, and began opening the bags of food. “We all need to eat something.”
    â€œI’m not hungry,” Riley said, pouting.
    â€œTough. You’re going to eat this even if I have to jam it down your throat.” Darius didn’t sound like he meant it. The anger seemed to have melted away as quickly as it had surfaced. He pulled out the two bottles of cola with a definite gleam in his eye, and set them down beside the fruit, bread, paté and cheese. “Alec, get a few plates and glasses.”
    No, thought Alec, as hard as he could.
    â€œNo need to yell,” Darius replied conversationally. He squinted at the tiny writing on a small bottle. “This is made in France,” he said to himself. “No wonder it’s expensive.”
    â€œYou read my mind,” Alec accused him. There was no denying it now. “Didn’t you?”
    â€œOf course.” Darius shrugged.
    â€œCan all you aliens read our minds?”
    â€œHmm, no. And, I told you, I’m not an alien.” Darius unscrewed the lid of the jar and stuck a finger into