Jonny Quest: The Real Adventures and all related characters and 
properties are the property of Hanna Barbera and Turner Inc. No 
copyright infringement is intended.

This story and all original characters are the property of the author (me)! 
You can’t have them! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

ahem

I’m better now. On with the story!
________

Out of Time and Place



Prologue

	“This isn’t going to work.”
	“Ever hear of something called ‘optimism,’ Jamie? Maybe you 
ought to give it a shot.”
	“Doesn’t matter ‘cause it ain’t gonna work,” the young woman 
repeated in a sing-song voice. She pushed back from the computer 
console she’d been working with and sent her chair spinning in circles. 
Long auburn hair flew about her face and shoulders as she continued, 
“Christopher, we’ve been working on the upgrades for *weeks* and the 
systems *still* aren’t compatible, the new safeties do *not* work and I 
just found two new viruses which have apparently appeared from thin 
air. At this rate it’ll be ten *years* before we’re anywhere near finished 
and that’s only if we all learn to forego sleep.”
	Her companion, a young man about twenty with dark blond 
hair and laughing brown eyes folded his arms and leaned back in his 
chair. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
	A disgusted snort was the only reply.
	“Well, why don’t you work on the holographic interface?” he 
suggested. “That’s all set for installation.”
	A foot slammed out against the wall, bringing the spinning 
chair to a sudden halt. Emerald eyes glared at him as she replied icily, 
“Because, that idiot in London is suing us over the patents and we can’t 
touch it until the case is settled.”
	He blinked. “You’re kidding.”
	She snorted and started the chair spinning again.
	“You’re going to make yourself sick.” An older woman, in her 
early forties leaned against the doorway. Beneath red hair pulled back 
into a thick braid green eyes glittered at the two young people. “Really, 
Jamie, it’s not that bad.”
	“Right, Mom. I worked on that project for *six months!* And 
now some pencil-necked tecno-geek-”
	“People in glass houses...”
	Jamie reigned in her temper through sheer force of will. “I’m 
not pencil-necked,” she said firmly. “And don’t tell me you’re not 
upset. After all, you *did* provide the funding.”
	“And I also have some of the best lawyers in the country 
working on it day and night. But that’s not why I came up here. Indira’s 
on the phone. She wants to talk to you.”
	“Dira?” Jamie glanced at her watch automatically. “But it’s 
three o’ clock in Paris! She should still be in meetings.”
	“Maybe she finished early,” her mother suggested. “Or maybe 
they took a break. All I know is that your friend is calling long distance 
and you’re sitting here wasting time.”
	“So what else is new?” Christopher ignored the venomous 
glare Jamie aimed at his back as he went back to his work.
	“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she told her mother. She was 
out the door and down the hall before her mother could reply. There 
was an unused office on this floor that Jamie had pretty much claimed 
as her own. It was practically the only place around where she could 
think without interruption. Frankly, she couldn’t wait until she rated 
her own office.
	She grabbed the receiver and picked up on the private line, the 
one reserved for family. “Dira? It’s Jamie. What’s up?”
	There was no reply. The line was open, but if someone was on 
the other end they weren’t talking. “Indira? Come on, don’t tell me I’m 
on hold.”
	“Nothing so simple as that, child.”
	Jamie almost dropped the phone. Whoever had just spoken, it 
certainly wasn’t Indira. “Who is this? Where’s Indira?”
	There was a ‘snap’ from behind her and a low laugh. “You’ll 
find out soon enough.”
	Jamie dropped the phone and, acting on reflex, whirled, hands 
coming up in a ready position. There was a ‘thwop’ and a sudden 
burning sting in her right leg. Jamie cursed as her leg almost buckled 
beneath her weight and she was forced to grab onto the desk with both 
hands. She braced herself and turned to face her attacker.
	“Dennis?” Jamie was confused. This young man had joined 
them as a janitor almost a month ago. “What-?” She would have liked to 
say more, but her head was spinning and it was getting harder to 
concentrate. She pressed a hand against her leg and wasn’t surprised at 
all to find a tranq dart.
	The last thing she heard before slipping into darkness was 
Dennis’s reply to her half-asked question. “The boss is real anxious to 
speak to you.”
***
	“Seven hours, 42 minutes, and um - about 24 seconds. I wasn’t 
paying attention. But you get the point.” The young woman smoothed 
her golden blond hair over her shoulder and offered her companion a 
sigh. “It didn’t take us that long to fly to Paris! And the whole time was 
spent locked in that conference room from hell - whoever picked out 
those paintings should be fired - without a single break! They had lunch 
brought in! I was ready to stab myself with a pencil just so they’d call 
an ambulance to come and take me away!” She leaned back against the 
seat of the taxi and rolled her eyes at the ceiling.
	“Got that out of your system?”
	“Gimme a minute, and I’ll let you know for sure.”
	Her companion smiled patiently. “It was rather long wasn’t it? 
But it was the reason we came to Paris in the first place, Amanda. And 
now that it’s over with - successfully, might I add - we can enjoy six 
days of total liberty in Paris. And everything is being paid for by 
Father.”
	“That’s one hell of a birthday present, Indira,” Amanda said 
admiringly. “For my sixteenth all I got was-”
	“A week in Tokyo,” Indira finished. “Also paid for by Father. 
Hardly something to complain about. And this trip is as much a gift to 
you as to me. After all,” she added, “you aren’t paying for anything, are 
you?”
	“Nope.” Amanda grinned.” Which means we can do something 
I’ve always wanted to do.”
	The cab stopped in front of their hotel. Indira paid the driver. 
“Just what,” she risked asking her friend, “are you planning to do?”
	“I’ll fill you in,” Amanda promised. “But we can’t do anything 
until tonight and right now I really want a change of clothes. And some 
coffee.” That sounded good to Indira as well, so she called room service 
while Amanda changed. ‘I could stand to change, too,’ she thought, 
glancing at the navy business suit she’d worn to the meeting. She’d 
always tended to favor Western fashions, but she’d never understood 
how suits could be comfortable. She ducked into her room and kicked 
her high heels into the closet, pulling out a pair of sneakers. She slipped 
out of the suit and nylons and into a pair of white jeans and a red shirt. 
She glanced in front of the mirror on the bureau for a moment to make 
sure her thick braid of black hair was still neat. Unsurprisingly, it was. 
Not like she’d actually done anything to get it messed up.
	From the next room she heard someone knocking on the door 
to their room. “That’s room service, Amanda,” she called. “Could you 
get it?” She sat on the bed to lace up her sneakers. She heard footsteps 
and the door opening. Amanda’s voice... Indira frowned. Amanda 
sounded strange... A sudden thud, like a body hitting the floor, caused 
her to jump to her feet, propelling herself halfway across the room in 
that one abrupt move. She paused at the door, listening carefully. She 
didn’t hear anything....
	Someone, or something, slammed against the door, and since it 
wasn’t completely closed  it started to swing open, stopped only when 
Indira threw her weight against it and braced both feet against the 
carpet. She cast a desperate glance at the phone by the bed - clear on the 
other side of the room. She pulled her hand away from the door, but 
kept her shoulder pressed against it. She was losing ground, slowly but 
surely and she needed to do something before whoever was out there, 
got in there and did to her whatever they’d done to Amanda. Using her 
free hand she flipped open the cover of her watch and pressed a button. 
‘Please, please, please, please, please, please...’
	“Uhn!” The door flew open, the force of it shoving her to the 
ground. She rolled with it and came up on her feet. And found herself 
facing one of the biggest men she’d ever seen. “By Allah,” she muttered. 
“Why can’t it ever be simple? Who are you?” she demanded in a louder 
voice.
	“Names aren’t important, Princess.” He held a gun in one hand 
and he pointed it at her. “It would be a lot easier if you’d just come 
peacefully.”
	“Go to hell.”
	“Have it your way.” He pulled the trigger.
	She dodged but before she could recover he’d fired a second 
shot and she gasped as a piercing pain suddenly coursed through her 
side. She looked down and saw a small tranquilizer dart buried in the 
skin beneath her ribcage. She reached down and pulled it out. “Why do 
you want us alive?”
	Indira felt herself slipping into darkness. But before she totally 
succumbed she heard the stranger say, “Mr. Surd’s been wanting to see 
you for a long time.”