I moved to the locker and threw on my street clothes, talking as I dressed. "What are we doing about the gate? Is it safe? Will it be shut down, too?" The newest gate would be the first under the Team's control that would allow travel to all the storehouses. In all my career, I'd never seen a gate; I was an agent Earth-side, but Alex and I'd recently put in for a promotion to be an off-world team. I wondered for a split second if Alex's death would affect my chances for advancement before the twang of guilt the thought caused rang through my heart.

The Director shot Katie a look as she exited the room, going to prepare the other patients for evacuation. When the door swung shut, he turned to me. "The gate is safe. It is not at this location. This is fortunate because we're running into issues with the key."

I swallowed my temporary shame and tilted my head. "What do you mean?" I carried my shoes to the bed and sat to put them on.

The Director sighed. "It's not working. Did the Exchangers give you any kind of instructions about it?"

I squeezed the bridge of my nose. "Not that I remember, but the drug isn't out of my system. I did examine the watch at the airport. Maybe something I did programmed it in some way."

His eyebrow shot up. "Report to the gate. I will have Baines take you." His phone rang, and he answered. "Baines, I'm glad it's you. Yes, you need to take Ethan to the gate with you. I will follow after the unit is shut down." He ended the call and shooed me out the door. "Go. Baines is waiting by the elevators in the garage."

~~~~

The gate was located in the basement of an old chalet in the picturesque countryside of Liechtenstein, the small principality between Austria and Switzerland. After about an hour of driving from Zurich, we exchanged cars, changing from the limo to one that Baines drove himself, making us blend in more as tourists. We dove on, and when we arrived, a set of terse agents stopped me just inside the chalet door. One checked my ID while the other searched me.

As the agents did their job, Baines waited, frowning at the cottage around him.

"What's the matter, Baines," a throaty female voice called from the kitchen with a thick French accent, "you look as if you've stepped in horse shit."

His head swiveled around toward the woman coming through the archway carrying a tray. When he saw her and the silver tea service she brought, his face beamed, and he raced to take it from her and place it on the dining room table. "Catherine!" he exclaimed, kissing her first on one cheek and then the other. "How long has it been?"

Two younger women, one in a bright white lab coat with blonde hair and pale skin, the other in more business dress with brown hair and a coppery complexion, brought trays of scones with clotted cream and two jams. They began to set the table for eight, placing bowls of fresh whole strawberries at each setting.

Catherine kissed his cheeks in return. "At least five years, mon ami. You haven't been to Paris since visiting the Louvre." Her disapproving look speared into him. "You promised me dinner at Le Fouquet's. I have been waiting."

He tugged at his vest, smoothing the already perfect fabric. "I do apologize, Catherine. You know, only work could have kept me away." He pulled out the chair to the right of the head of the table for her. She sat elegantly, her mannerisms betraying her upbringing despite her farm-worker attire. He kissed her neck, and she smiled as he moved to the other side of the table to take his seat. "Is Dr. Müller coming to tea?"

"Yes." Catherine turned to the men finishing up with me. "Charles, be a dear and call the lab for tea."

"Yes, Ma'am," the agent answered and picked up an old-fashioned handset on a table in the hall.

"Please," Catherine indicated the tea, "help yourself. There is no need for guests to wait."

I meandered into the room, taking the seat beside Baines. British high tea wasn't really my thing, but I could make nice. As I sat, I heard footsteps followed by a door opening. I leaned back to look down the hall and saw a tall, gaunt man in a lab coat with wild hair having to stoop to get through the low door at the top of the basement stairs. He scratched his head as we walked down the hall, the other hand tucked in his coat pocket. When he entered the room, Baines stood and held out a hand, which he took and shook.

"Dr. Müller, so good to see you again," Baines said.

The older man grunted and sat. Catherine placed a scone in front of him while Baines poured his tea. "Baines, did you bring that idiot agent with you?" he demanded.

Baines tried to hide a smile but failed. He wiped his mouth. "Yes, Dr. Müller." He gestured to me. "Agent Johnson is the one who retrieved the key."

Dr. Müller's gaze pierced me. "What did you do to the key?"

My eyes narrowed. I didn't appreciate the implication that I'd done something to the key on purpose after all my partner had sacrificed to get it. "I pulled the stem, turned it, and observed the different faces as the symbol changed. When it returned to the face it started with, I pushed the stem back in and stored it away."

The man scowled, slathering jam on his scone. "Did you wear it?"

"No. I held it, but I didn't put it on."

"Good. Then we have the opportunity to reprogram it, perhaps."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why would we need to do that? If you need an agent on your team..."

He waved a hand. "We have plenty of seasoned agents."

Son of a... "Seems to me that, so far, my partner and I have risked the most. He cannot carry on. It seems only natural that I would."

The doctor slurped his tea, watching me over his teacup. "Well, in the end, it is up to the key. The fact that you could program it at all might lend merit to your expectations of being involved." He sipped again. "You will come to the lab after tea. We will run some tests."

I knew I wouldn't get a better invitation, so I resigned myself to the knowledge that my involvement was merely a possibility instead of a foregone conclusion. I ate strawberries and sipped tea while I listened to the inconsequential chit-chat around me.

~~~

The gate was not what I expected, and yet it was. In some part of my mind, I had imagined a large circular structure with chevrons like the gate from that Stargate SG-1 TV show. Instead, it looked like a door. It was red on one side and blue on the other. When you turned the knob on the blue side, it swung inward. It was mounted in a simple metal frame on an insulating mat. Electrical conduit running along the ceiling shielded the wiring to power it. Beyond what I could see, I had yet to learn how it worked, so I asked.

Dr. Müller sighed. "To be honest, we don't really know. The gates manipulate the space-time continuum in ways we don't quite understand. In fact, most of our physics says they shouldn't work. And yet, they do." He stared at the door and scratched his head. "Well, at least this one is supposed to. Only, we can't get the key to activate it."

I looked up as I heard the door at the top of the stair open, and two sets of feet stepped down into view. One of the agents that had verified my identity, and one of the women who had helped with tea, descended.

"Ah. Mia and Noah. Very good. You can help us rerun our tests with Ethan operating the key."

"Yes, Sir," Noah said.

"Of course, Dr. Müller," Mia answered.

"Good," Dr. Müller said, picking up a clipboard and turning to a blank page. "First, we need to see the faces on the watch. Please show us what you did in the airport, Agent Johnson."

Mia handed me the key with care. I took it and admired it freely. Regardless of its scientific purpose or role in intergalactic intrigue, it was an exquisite piece of art.

I repeated my actions from the airport, pausing on each face for Mia to take pictures and Dr. Müller to make notes. When the face came back around to the normal one, he grunted. "We hadn't even gotten it to do that. I recognize all but two of those faces."

"How is it supposed to work?" I asked the doctor.

"Wear it, set it on a face, then simply open the door. But before you do that, you need gear and a disguise. The Vegans don't pay terribly close attention to who comes and goes through the door; lazy guards are the bane of their existence. However, if it's obvious you're not Vegan when you emerge, you will be in danger."

I nodded. "Makes sense. But, do we have a way of testing the key without doing that?"

"Sharon is upstairs preparing, Dr. Müller."

"Yes, well, it is obvious that the key is somehow linked to Agent Johnson now. She can be his backup."

I balked. "My backup? You mean as my partner? No." The loss of Alex was too fresh. There was no way I was ready for a new partnership. Not after more than a decade of working together.

"I can assure you Agent Michaels is a consummate professional," the doctor insisted. "She has several crossings under her belt." He crossed his arms. "Remind us of how many gate crossings you have again?"

He had me. I was inexperienced. I knew it. He knew it. They all knew it. "Yet, here I am, the only one with the working key."

"We don't know if it works yet or not. And we won't know unless Agent Michaels goes with you because I'm not allowing the testing to continue unless I know the person wearing the key is protected."

Honestly, what he said was logical. It was just my emotions getting in the way. I could hear Alex's voice telling me to let it go and do what it took to get the job done. I matched his pose, pulling my arms across my chest. I stared at him for a moment before I gave in. "Okay, fine. Agent Michaels as backup. But she's not my new partner."

His eyebrows raised. "New?"

"Agent Alex Smith was my partner. It was his memories that bought this key. The transfer killed him. You can understand, I'm sure, why I'm hesitant to take on someone else."

He exhaled and scratched his head. "Yes. Quite. Of course she's not your new partner, but you do need protection and someone who is somewhat familiar with the planet you're going to."

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and a pair of combat boots stepped into view. I watched as black fatigues revealed themselves, continuing until a maroon sweater showed. Sharon's skin was noticeably darker than when I'd seen her before, and she had pulled her hair back into a messy twist held up by a clip. She didn't look armed, but I knew better... probably an inner pants holster under the bulky sweater.

"Agent Michaels," Dr. Müller said, nodding. "Good. Please take Agent Johnson and help get him ready for a crossing. The key is linked to him, and you will be his backup."

She answered with a curt nod. "Yes, Sir." If she was upset, she didn't show it. She eyed me up and down. "I got another bottle of hair dye and some self-tanner left. Glad I paid extra for the fast-developing kind. Come on. We'll work on the tan first." She turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs.

She took me to the second floor and parked me in the shared bathroom while she grabbed her kit. Returning, she eyed me again.

"Okay, strip."

My eyes widened. "Do what?"

"Strip. You know, get undressed." She waved the bottle of self-tanner at me. This has to go everywhere. And I do mean everywhere." She cracked a half grin. "Shy?"

I scowled and removed the key, gingerly setting it on the sink. "Let's get this over with." I pulled the t-shirt over my head before I stripped off the jeans, kicking my shoes into the corner as I did. It was only when I had my underwear to go that I turned my back on her.

She laughed. "Yeah, thought so. Whatever, I don't bat for your team."

Knowing she was a lesbian didn't make my scowl go away. I reached behind me. "Give it."

She handed me the bottle, and I popped the top.

"I'd start with your genitals first. That area always takes the longest to dry. Just FYI."

I grunted but did what she suggested.

She thrust her hand in front of me, palm up. "Give me some, and I'll do your back."

I pumped a small pile in her hand, and she pulled back, rubbed her hands together, and began to spread the lotion down my spine and across the areas of my back I couldn't reach while I worked on my shoulders and chest.

She finished and began to wash her hands. "Okay, I'll let you finish up in peace and go find you some clothes."

"Thanks," I gruffed out, beginning to work on my arms.

"Don't forget that pale ass of yours!" she called as she left.