The first trip turned out to be easier than I'd thought. The ship was highly repetitive and orderly in its construction. Symmetry was a big deal in the aesthetic of whoever built this vessel. The hallways were in a spoke-and-wheel design. Picture an old wagon wheel. There was a central hub with straight spokes that intersected ever larger circular elements. Of course the Edoozer ship was three dimensional, so the wagon wheel circles were actually wagon spheres.
The twenty linear spokes that connected the spheres radiated out with eight in one plane (the X-axis), with six above that plane (the Y-axis), and eight below that (the Z-axis). Not surprisingly, the time storage room, which we dubbed TSR, was at the hub of everything. It was the center of their power and possibly their place of worship. The first circular passageway that intersected the straight spokes was ten meters past the hub exits. The next circular hall was ten more meters away. That exact pattern continued for as far as we ventured that first trip.
We called it quits after four hours. There was no reason to push our luck. Yeah, we had all the time in the universe. The farther outward we had gone, the fewer and fewer Edoozers we saw. I ran a quick calculation in my head, assuming their distribution was uniform. It meant this massive ship was manned by maybe seventy five individuals. That seemed counterintuitive. In time, hopefully, I'd figure out why the ship was crewed so sparsely.
Back in TSR it was time—pun intended—to set a near-term plan.
“So, we have the ship held prisoner, but we don't control her,” I began. “There is, however, no reason to assume we can't eventually learn how to pilot her. One big help would be to have Stingray aboard. The Als can analyze stuff a lot faster than we can. They might also be able to link up with the ship's AIs. Something this big would require a lot of them.”
“So, we go back to the White House, retrieve Stingray, and land your vortex somewhere on this ship?” Tank asked.
“Shouldn't be a problem,” I replied, confidently.
“You do remember that the last time we wished to go there, we met with the sixteenth president, not the current administration?”
“I'm confident our aim'll improve,” I reassured him. Rather foolishly, I might add.
“Why is that, husband?” pressed Sapale. “What will help us aim better?”
“It can't be that hard,” I minimized.
“Time travel,” shot back Sachiko, dubiously, “can't be that hard?”
I shrugged. “With practice, I'm betting it isn't.”
“And you saved the universe?” Sachiko kind of asked.
“Twice, in fact,” I corrected.
No verbal reply, but she fluttered her eyelids and shook her head, slowly.
“I think we have to consider that we might just have been stupid lucky, that first time,” Sapale remarked. “The chance of us separating in time seems, to me, to be much greater than that of us traveling together, unless we're using this ship, or something similar.”
She had a point. Good thoughts and altruistic intentions were unlikely to be excellent binders, when it came to free-falling through time.
“Maybe I could go alone?” I thought out loud. “That way, if I miss the time mark, I could try again until I hit my target. We wouldn't end up scattered across time, that way.”
“I'm going to need time to noodle out that idea, Jon,” said Tank. “While it seems reasonable, I really don't like the idea of splitting up the team.”
“Not a problem. As long as we can hold the Edoozers in time-stasis, our hands won't be forced. That leads us quickly to the next order of business. Food and water. You two will need them, soon. If the Edoozers even have food aboard, based on looking at them, I don't think humans could eat the crap.”
“I get the idea they feed directly off of time,” Sapale remarked, thoughtfully.
“Interesting notion.” I nodded. “We've seem some weird ass stuff in our days. Living off time soup wouldn't surprise me much.”
“Could we survive off the time we're … whatevering, from the time vault?” Sachiko wondered out loud.
“Time sucking,” I added. “That's what we're calling it, now. Time sucking.”
“Since when are we calling it that disgusting term?” snapped Sapale.
You got it. I shrugged.
“Maybe, we can live off the mists of time” Tank said decisively. “But, considering the alternative if we make an incorrect assumption, I'm voting we secure food and water, just the same.”
“I agree. Water is the most critical. And, since we found none on our first check of the ship, we either have to look harder, or go get some,” I stated.
“Come to think of it, I don't recall seeing anything even remotely like a restroom,” Sapale recalled. “I've been on lots of ships made by lots of species, but it's usually pretty obvious where they go when nature calls.”
“Either of you see the head?” I asked. I hadn't, either.
They indicated they had not.
“Okay, second order of business. Buckets,” I declared.
“Ah, Jon, are you suggesting Tank and I use … buckets for … ah, you know?”
I looked to Tank and pointed to Sachiko. “Hasn't done much camping.”
He shook his head. “Pure city girl … er, woman.”
“You make civilized sound like a bad thing, ya big oaf,” she scorned.
“Well, I was in the Marines. A bucket sounds like the Ritz Hotel, to me.”
I walked over and fist bumped him. Then, of course, we both said oorah. Hey, you would, too. It was the perfect guy-moment.
“I say we take another look, to see if there's any potable water aboard,” opined my wife. “It's simpler. I know, it's not as sexy as whirling off along the time circuits. But, it's more practical.”
“You mean dull,” I translated.
“No, you mean dull. I mean less chance of traumatic death or permanent separation, flyboy.”
Tank pointed to me. “You flew fighters?”
I swelled. “For the USAF, proud and loud.”
“What'd you fly?”
“Lockheed Martin F-16 Fighting Falcons, the pride of the sky. Just before I switched to the astronaut thing, I qualified for the F-35Es. But those gave me a rash. Vertical takeoffs are for frogs, not fighters. And they handled like a flying garbage can.” I puckered up a sour face.
“Are you done with the Memory Lane thing, yet?” asked a bored looking wife of mine.
I pointed up. “Water. Let us look for water. And, if you see any cheeseburgers, don't consume them without calling me, first.”
We split up into the same three teams. Well, sort of. Sapale said it was my turn to babysit the stiffs. She foraged this time. They were all back within two hours, empty handed.
“We saw more and more of the same old same old,” reported Tank. “Whoever designed this craft had to be both OCD and deeply depressed. There's no variation, no new parts or places. Hell, there's not even an obvious mess deck.” He threw his arms in the air. “How can you fly a ship without coffee, and how can you have coffee without a mess deck? It's pure insanity.”
“It's designing in trouble, if you ask me,” I added in support.
“Enough with the macho BS, please.” Wow, it was Sachiko, that time, not my loving wife. “At any moment, we're like five minutes from total death. Guy-stuff conversations do not advance our chances of survival.”
“I guess she's not a fan of coffee?” I speculated.
Something bounced off my head. I looked down. It was Sapale's flashlight. She'd … whoa, she'd thrown it at me. Bogus.
“Okay, I need to go get supplies.” I said, as I was being forced to be serious, now. “Or maybe take a stab at retrieving Stingray.”
“Who appointed you?” asked my brood's-mate. And yes, her arms were crossed.
“What do you mean, who appointed me? I'm the mission commander.”
Sapale nodded toward the humans. “Did they agree to that?”
“You think they wouldn't?” I shot back.
<
br /> “I didn't say that. But, just because you always think you're in charge doesn't mean you always are.”
“Before you say one more word, we are not taking a vote.” I was getting a tad miffed.
“Why don't I go get the ship?” she asked neutrally.
“Because I'm going. You need to stay here and protect those two.”
“I don't think I need protection,” Tank responded coolly. “Doubt Sachiko'd ask for it, either.”
I scanned the entire mutinous lot of them. “You know what the nice thing about democracies is?”
Sapale shrugged.
“This isn't one. I go. You stay. As commander, I assume the greater risk. That's what I do.”
“One last point,” she replied.
“And that would be?”
“We're pulling your chain, fly boy. Sheesh. You can go from goofy to uptight in six seconds.”
I turned a shoulder to her. “I knew that.”
“Oh, brother. Jon, go.”
*********
I returned to the White House, a few hours before I had before, with the others. I figured it was a done task, so I'd be less likely to mess up. It was early morning. The snow in most places was undisturbed, meaning no one was coming and going. I slipped around back, staying close to the White House walls for cover. The back entrance was unguarded. My, how times were going to change. I headed toward the kitchen area. The smell of baking bread was a pleasant roadmap. The kitchen was lightly staffed, with a small scullery was manned by one worker. A couple men were pounding something, maybe dough. Another was mixing flour in a large bowl. No one was paying attention to anything but their chores.
I eased into a pantry. I grabbed a couple empty flour bags, and stuffed in a few basic supplies and flasks for water. Then I set about locating oil, for the lamp, writing materials, and hopefully more lamps. I had to be careful not to take the one I was going to take later that day. Spoiler alert, right? No time paradoxes on my watch.
Within half an hour, I were loaded to the max, and no one had even laid eyes on me. I debated whether to return to the exact site I'd materialized from the Edoozer's ship. I decided, not too surprisingly for me, what the hell. I needed to find out if I could return from an alternate point.
Guess what? My lack of caution was rewarded with a direct hit to where I'd departed from. That would mean trouble in the near term. Sure. Validate me taking unnecessary risks was never going to end well.
Sapale actually jumped back. “Wow. That wasn't fast. That was instantaneous. You just left.”
I grinned. “I missed you.”
“Oh man,” was her insufficiently romantic response. We had been married a very long time, so, what did I expect?
With creature comforts taken care of, at least for a while, we needed to decide what we were going to do.
“Currently, we're blind,” I began the next morning. “Also, it's a certainty that with the crew of this ship time-locked, other ships will be coming to find out what's up. Who knows how these creatures's societies are structured, but sooner than later, someone has to come check out the silence.”
“We can time-lock whoever comes to investigate,” commented Sachiko.
“Yes, and no. The only way we'll know they're here is when we see them strolling down the passageways. Sure, we could get lucky. But, history dictates we are more likely to get unlucky.”
“Since you two don't sleep, we at least can have someone on watch twenty four seven,” said Tank.
“For what that's worth, true. But, if we don't learn how to control the ship pretty soon, I think we might have to abandon her.”
“Why? You said you wanted to steal their tech,” Sapale pointed out.
“Ideally, sure. But I don't want to risk getting caught. All hope dies with us four if that were to happen.”
The others nodded grimly.
“I say we make at least one more attempt to find the bridge, some central control station. If we do, maybe we'll figure out how to pilot the ship.”
“There are definitely works stations all over,” Tank reminded us. “No computer terminals like we have, but some areas are configured for input and use.”
“We could try my favorite plan. Push buttons until something happens. That option's a blast.”
“Only if all else fails, jet jockey,” scolded my wife. “Okay, what if we really can't figure out how this ship's controlled. What then?”
“We'll have to bug out. Maybe try and rig a self-destruct, if we can, but we can't expect to be safe here for very long.”
No one protested that assessment. We were on borrowed time.
We needed to establish some normality, while waiting for the inevitable end of our stay on this Good Ship Lollipop. First, we located a very empty room not far from the TSR and made that our base. We stashed our precious supplies there. We also burned the image into our minds so we didn't miss the room when tunneling back to the ship, when we time dived. On a very practical note, we needed to agree on latrines. Yeah, no way around it, right? We'd used four buckets to ferry water back. Once two became available, they were elected to serve a different cause. We had separate buckets in separate nearby rooms, for odor discretion. That way the two who needed buckets had only themselves to blame for any smell they felt violated the laws of nature.
Over five days we did a very comprehensive survey of the vessel. By the way, we agreed on calling it the S. S. Minnow. You will never guess who came up with that name. Here's a hint. It was the least mature member of the crew. Operationally, we just called her the S-squared. We confirmed that there really were very few Edoozers aboard. We tallied fifty three, all nicely frozen. So, the range of our time-lock turned out to be at least past the hull of the S-Squared. As the meager supplies began to dwindle, another foray was needed.
“I hate to sound all scifi here,” Sachiko said before I left. “But we need to steal provisions from many locations. I don't want us to alter the future by consuming something that would have mattered.”
“One, I'm not sure I believe that can happen. Two, it's not stealing. We're saving our species. They're glad to help, even if they don't know the specifics. Three, you two aren't going to put a dent in anyone's stockpiles. You eat like a bird, so you hardly count.”
“Well, start thinking of alternatives, okay?”
“Hey, I could show up in Pompeii the day before the eruption. Anything I snatched wouldn't be missed, if you take my meaning.”
“That hardly seems safe. Plus, what date was it exactly? Hmm?”
“Hiroshima August 5, 1945?”
“I might blend in. You? You'd be the only white dude walking the streets,” scoffed Sachiko.
“I got it. I could sail on the Hindenburg and grab whatever just before it bursts into flames.”
“Just think about alternate sources, Jon,” she said rather frustratedly.
“Okay, I'm think about it.”
I was back in not so soon, in my time frame. This time thing was a blast. What wasn't such a blast is what happened to me while I was gone. Yeah, oops.
SIXTEEN
The three of them stood, silently, looking at the spot Jon disappeared from.
Nothing.
They continued to stare. A minute slowly passed.
“He didn't pop back instantly,” Sachiko said, in a hushed tone.
“Welcome to my world,” spewed Sapale. “Life with Jonny is life with the five Cs. Confusion, consternation, and crap, and crap, and more crap.”
“You're not overly concerned?”she asked, cautiously.
“Blech,” she returned. “Jon's like the wart you can never get rid of. Is he in trouble? Probably. Will those plaguing him soon suffer more than he does, presently? You can bet on that. He'll be back. Always is.”
“Do you think we should wait a bit longer?” Tank asked, open-endedly.
“What, and play his game? No way. Let's do whatever we need to, and not reward his flare for the dramatic.”
“Okay,”
he replied. “What's next?”
Sachiko brought up a concern she'd been nurturing. “How about this thought exercise. We've stopped time. We know it's only locally, and that it's temporary.”
“Sure,” replied Tank.
“So I wonder what the effects of stopping an isolated patch of space-time temporally from the rest of the universe is.”
“Hmm. Good question.” He sat and thought a while. “Easy solution. We unlock time for a second, allow it to equilibrate, then we re-lock it.”
“Good plan. We just need to know where the bad guys are and not be near them for that second. I say you're in charge of winding the clock, so to speak. That way we won't needlessly duplicate, or possibly interfere with, your work.”
“No prob. Sounds very doable. Anything else weighing on your mind?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“How did I know?”
“Pig. Anyway, we're playing with fire so to speak. These Edoozers have mastered time for a long while. What if they figure out what we're doing and snap their fingers, sorry, claws and reverse the spell?”
“I've thought about that, too,” Sapale interjected. “The fact that they're newbies to the taking and holding of prisoners does not decrease their familiarity with time manipulation.”
“So, maybe we should reanimate them, handcuffs and shacked?” Sachiko responded. “It might be safer in the long run.”
“Or maybe we should try driving stakes through their hearts, assuming of course they have hearts,” hissed Sapale.
“I know. I thought of that, too. But it seems so … so—” Sachiko couldn't quite say it.
“Kiddo, were in a war for the survival of our planet. Ugly, cruel, and the unimaginable are the opening antes.” Tank patted the back of her hand. “If it comes to it, I'll wield the mallet, okay?”
“You'll have to fight me for it,” Sapale returned with a tiny growl.
“You'll get no argument from me,” responded Tank with a big grin. “And what happens if a clan ship comes to aid this one? I wonder if our time-lock can effect them?”
Ryan Time Page 17
