Lost Past by Teresa McCullough, Zachary McCullough

her father was the brightest physicist in the world.
                  “Linda Saunders?” the old man asked. When she nodded, he ordered Hernandez, “Free her.” Hernandez reluctantly released her bonds. “We didn’t mean to do you harm. I am Baldur, by the way. I am sorry if you’ve been frightened. And Mary Chen’s death was not intended. My condolences for the loss of your stepmother.”
                  Linda hastily pulled her shirt over her head. “Mary was no threat. I don’t think any of us are,” she said as she rubbed her wrists, looking pointedly at Hernandez. He took her look as a challenge and freed John’s and Wilson’s hands, but left Cara stuck in the chair with her hands still bound.
                  “Talking to the animals?” A woman stood in the doorway. She looked like every other woman they had seen on this planet, but somehow, she was more beautiful. The slight genetic variations that made up the limited gene pool made attractive features, but hers were radiant. Her complexion was flawless, and she wore a bright blue scarf that emphasized the blue in her eyes, but otherwise was dressed in the universal beige pants and shirt.
                  “This is Katrine ,” said Baldur. “John Graham’s wife.”
                  “Ex wife,” Katrine said.
                  “Do you remember her?” Wilson asked John.
                  John shook his head, showing no emotion.
                  “How convenient. Forty years ago, I was the love of your life. Ten years later you divorce me, and now you don’t even remember.”
                  “Is that Earth years or wherever-we-are years?” Linda asked.
                  Katrine gave her a spiteful look and said a few words that Linda translated as profanity.
                  Baldur seemed to wince at the profanity, but ignored it as he explained, “There are about twelve Vigintees years for every thirteen Earth years.” Roughly even, Linda thought.
                  Katrine turned on Baldur angrily. Linda decided that she did everything angrily. “You talk to the animals.”
                  “And we talk back,” said Linda.
                  “Only because we put it into your brains. You are still animals.”
                  “My father spoke Vigintees . Was he an animal?”
                  Before Katrine could respond, Hernandez belatedly looked at Wilson’s empty holster. “Where’s your gun?”
                  “On a chair in Schwartz’ office. I started to draw, but you had the drop on me, so I left it there,” Wilson lied.
                  “I don’t remember hearing it fall,” Hernandez said.
                  “Six inches to a padded chair?” Linda was glad he didn’t mention Eric’s presence.
                  Hernandez aggressively searched Wilson who stood as still as possible, his hands held negligently in the air. The unaccustomed weight of the gun in Linda’s purse seemed to shout the presence of the weapon, but she said nothing.
                  When the gun wasn’t found, Hernandez said, “It’s interesting to know there is an FBI agent who’s a coward.” Wilson managed to look bored. Linda realized he wasn’t going to let insults visibly affect him.
                  Meanwhile, Katrine walked over to Cara, who was still immobilized. She put a finger on her bra and pulled the material slightly. She leaned over and looked at Cara. Her mouth curled in contempt. As she started to say something, Cara coughed in her face.
                  Katrine jumped back and wiped off her face with her hand, hissing, “Animals! Zhexp, come with me.” John hesitated, but she grabbed his arm and he went with her, after glancing a mute apology to Cara and