I thought for a moment, then swallowed my food. “I wonder if that’s how the Time Police tracked me when I came here the first time.”
Tofan Res nodded excitedly. “It could be, it could be. And the idea that they might have been able to trace the particles over that long a time-trip raises very interesting possibilities—but first we’ve got to send all those soldiers back or no one is going to be around to explore them.”
Vanu’A posed a question. “You pulled them from battlefields all throughout history, didn’t you?” Since she already knew the answer, I waited to see her point. “They were listed as missing; that’s why you took them. So if you send them back, they’re all going to die.”
We fell silent. I have to admit that the thought had not occurred to me, but now it seemed inevitable. I had been in war, and I knew that there were men who simply disappeared, reported as missing and assumed lost, but not dead—simply, lost. Going back to their original eras was not an automatic death sentence, but in most cases…
“How many men are we talking about?” I asked.
Tofan Res took his time in answering. “Almost four thousand.”
They were soldiers, all of them. They had fought at peril of their lives to preserve something they believed in. Now they were going to die for the preservation of all of humanity, as well as planets and races unknown. I tried to tell myself that it was the nature of war that some had to be sent to die, and that if they knew the stakes, they would gladly sacrifice themselves for such a greater good.
It had not made me feel any better when I sent my men over the top at Pont à Mousson, and it did not make me feel any better now.
Chapter 43
Betrayal
As with our trip to the Procyon, there was no countdown. Indeed, such melodrama would have seemed cheap and disrespectful under the circumstances. Knowing that we were likely sending nearly four thousand men to their deaths gave us the feeling that we were attending a mass funeral; knowing that we were responsible for these deaths—even though Tofan Res had postponed them for a significant time—imposed a silence on us all. No words could have comforted us.
The doctor stood at his podium, making such last-minute adjustments and checks as I suppose he needed. Even with the help of the Librarian, he had explained to us, calibrating the machinery to focus on all of the “chrono-signatures” present in Farren’s secret base—whose location he still refused to divulge—was a delicate matter.
“If I fail to focus correctly, the computer may lock onto every chrono-signature in its range that it has in its memory,” he explained. “The only time travelers not affected would be any who had never passed through this machine, and that means that all of us could be thrown back to our own original times as well.
“They can’t all be sent back at once, of course. There’s a limit as to how many samples the machine can process at one time. But we’ve been working on that, and the entire process shouldn’t take more than five seconds.”
“And you believe that will repair the damage to the time line?” I asked.
“It should. Even if it doesn’t for some reason, if we’ve changed any of their histories, for example, the time-space fabric should repair itself eventually. Most of the men I found disappeared thousands of years ago, if not hundreds of thousands. Their effect on the time stream will have plenty of opportunity to level out between then and now.” He paused in his work for a moment to look up with a wistful expression. “They would have made my plans so much easier. But I suppose we’ll just have to proceed without them.”
I frowned. “Proceed without them? Doctor, do you mean you still plan to try to take this planet from the Nuum? Without your army? I thought you had given that up.”
Tofan Res stared at me for a moment. “Without my army? Of course not. I have more than enough Thoran followers. I was hoping that by using soldiers who couldn’t be telepathically detected, I might be able to win the war with less bloodshed. But I have more than enough to do the job. Don’t worry; you’ll still have your chance to kill Farren.”
“Doctor, you can’t do this!” Maire protested. “Even if your men follow you instead of Farren, you can’t trust Lobok—and he has the Procyon.”
“Please don’t, Maire,” Vanu’A said sharply. “I don’t want to have to shoot you.” She had a pistol pointed at my wife, who looked momentarily stunned, a normal reaction to having your movements halted before you even had a chance to start them. “She was going to rush him,” Vanu’A added unnecessarily.
I looked from her to the doctor, who had also produced a pistol from somewhere and was negligently pointing it in our general direction while his other hand swiped over the controls.
“I know Vanu’A can’t read your mind, Keryl,” he said distractedly, “but if you try anything, someone will get killed.”
“Tell Vanu’A to put down her gun,” I said, “or I will not kill Farren for you.”
He sniffed in amusement. “Really, Keryl, do you think that just because Vanu’A can’t read your mind that we’re stupid? You only offered to go along with my plan in order to get your hands on the Library. You would have come up with some other excuse. Assassination is not in you. Now your wife, on the other hand—” he gestured in her direction with his gun, which made me cringe—”Vanu’A tells me she has hidden depths, doubtless bred by all that politicking.”
I stole a glance at Vanu’A in time to see her blink, and then give Maire a look of new respect. I can only imagine what insulting or threatening thought had passed between them. Imagine, yes, but I was quite certain I would never want to know the facts.
“That’s it, then,” Tofan Res announced suddenly. He held one hand over the board, lowered it as though he were pressing down, then lifted it again slowly. “In about five seconds, it will be done.” He looked at me. “That’s just enough time to say good-bye.”
Before I could even think to ask what he meant, the room vanished.
I was outside, and it was cold on my exposed face and hands. It was nighttime, I was hemmed in by large shapes that I could not recognize, and when I moved I was stunned to feel wood beneath my feet. Suddenly there were several sharp sounds that I belatedly understood to be gunshots, followed by an excited babble of confused voices nearby, whose owners were hidden by the shapes around me. I crept closer to hear.
“Did you see that? He just hit that silver thing and disappeared!”
“Naw, he didn’t! He didn’t, and we didn’t see nuthin’! We shot ‘im and he fell off the dock, right?” There was a pause. “All right. Now we gotta take care of the other one, and then we gotta scram!”
My heart had frozen in my chest. Those were voices—sounds that I heard in my ears—English—not thoughts I heard in my head. And I had heard gunshots.
I was on the San Pedro docks. The men who had fired those shots were now returning to the wounded John Naylor, my partner, with the intent of finishing their murderous work.
Tofan Res had marooned me in the 20th century.
Chapter 44
Rescue and Peril
I had no time to dwell on what Tofan Res had done to me, or what it might mean to Maire and the world of the future. In my present there were three armed men prowling through the darkness around me intending to kill my wounded friend—and should they find me, they would be surprised, but not reluctant to resume shooting at me, as well.
I had some advantages, however, to equalize our positions. While I was not armed, they had no idea I was still here. Moreover, it was dark, and while they might have trouble seeing me, I knew where each and every one of them was—including John Naylor and Hardison, the gang member John had shot. When I was in this situation the last time, I had not had occasion to use telepathy for twenty years—now, when I had been using it mere moments ago, I realized how much my skills had ebbed over those two decades. I could not read these men’s thoughts, but I could have located any one of them blindfolded.
Moving quietly was easy, since my quarry had
abandoned stealth for haste. There was a good chance the shots had gone unnoticed, but there was also that chance they had not, which meant that the local police could be minutes away. And then I felt something that gave me joy—John was moving! Apparently his wound had not immobilized him, and I could sense him seeking a more sheltered place. As long as he was not where they had left him, I had time to work.
Not much time, however; one of the gunmen was creeping in my direction.
His thoughts were angry, and tense, but not excited: He had not seen me. I slipped back into the deepest shadow I could find and worked on breathing as silently as possible. I could hear his steps now.
He was hunting a wounded man and had no expectation of attack. I fell on him from behind, clapping one hand over his mouth, and seizing the wrist of his gun hand, I used my weight to bring him down, pulling my hand away a second before his face hit the wooden pier. I had no need to check on him; he was out cold. His gun felt heavy, but good, in my hand.
A moment’s “listening” told me that neither of the others had discerned anything of our fight. The third man, Hardison, registered mental activity but at a low level; John was plainly a good shot, even in the dark. I considered how I should proceed. It would seem more prudent to try to deal with the next man as I had dealt with the first, quietly. But I remembered that the one who had found me originally had been big, and stronger than me. If I assaulted him, I might not be so lucky twice. I had done some painful damage to his fingers, but I could detect nothing now but focused violence from the pair of them, nothing to indicate that either was in pain.
That left ambush. It should be simple to outflank one of them, lie in wait, and shoot him when he came close. The shot would draw the other; unaware of any danger, he would be easy prey as well. And yet—I had just been banished from the 863rd century because I refused to become an assassin. Was I to become one now by default?
And then my choice was taken away by sudden shouting.
“Federal agents! You’re surrounded!”
The thoughts of the two gangsters lit up like Christmas trees—but there was no escape. I could tell from their mental emanations when panicked flight gave way to resignation, almost before they could take a step to run. They were already under arrest.
But by whom? As near as my telepathic scanning could determine, there was no one else on the docks.
The Time Police! Zachary Kyle’s comrades, the ones he had told me about, who surprised the gangsters and saved John Naylor’s life, disguised as G-men. Now that I knew what to look for, I could feel their shielded minds close to the gangsters’, and close to John’s, as well.
I had never thought so quickly in my life. Their being here, now, meant that Zachary Kyle had not yet left their era in search of me, since he had been able to report their success to me. If I could use them to get a message to him, he could avoid being captured when he tried to return to his own time, canceling out all of the consequences of that misfortunate act. But could those events even be changed? Were they still in the future, or were they already in the past because I remembered them?
I damned myself for indecision. What would happen, would happen, but if I did not act immediately, what happened would be entirely beyond my influence. I began to run.
“What’s that?” someone called as I came into the open space where the attack on us had begun a mere few minutes before. “Halt! Stand where you are!”
Of course! They weren’t expecting me; they were expecting only the gangsters and the wounded John Naylor. I opened my mouth to shout, but…
“He’s got a gun!”
I had time only to register the muzzle flashes before the world melted into a grey void once more.
Chapter 45
A Devil’s Bargain
I was not so surprised to see Tofan Res again that I did not rush at him the moment my limbs were free to move. He leaped backward at my screaming assault, but I pounced on him like a tiger.
“Keryl, stop!”
I froze, my arm half-cocked to put my fist through that traitor’s face. No voice in the universe save one could have stayed my rage.
I felt Maire’s hand on my shoulder and I relaxed just enough that the light of terror faded from Tofan Res’s eyes, but I kept him pinned to the wall by the hand I had around his throat. I fought to bring my breathing under control.
“It’s all right, Keryl,” Maire said in a calming voice. “Dr. Res brought you back at my request.”
I let him go, turning to the wife I thought I had lost yet again. Behind her I saw Vanu’A, Tofan Res’s bodyguard, caught completely unaware by my sudden, undetectable action. She, too, was watching me with consternation.
“I apologize,” I said belatedly, and with no attempt at sincerity. “Are you all right?” I asked Maire.
She kissed me quickly. “I’m fine. Are you?” When I reassured her, she continued: “You’ve been gone two days.”
I blinked. “Really? I was only there a few minutes.”
“Where did you go?”
“Back to the 20th century, where I started. It was a blessing in disguise, actually; I was able to take care of some unfinished business.”
“So he was telling the truth. Huh.” She tilted her head, looking at me with curiosity. “What business?”
But I felt indisposed toward elaborating right then. “Take me back to our room. I can fill you in there.”
Maire nodded, and taking my arm, escorted me away from Tofan Res and Vanu’A, the latter of whom she bestowed with a hard look before we left. Something had plainly gone on between them while I was away.
“What was that look you gave Vanu’A?” The door closing behind us gave a reassuring illusion of privacy.
Maire’s answer was delayed by a long and pleasurable kiss, which as always ended too soon.
“We’ve reached—an understanding. Since we’ve been here I’ve been exercising my mind to strengthen my shields, and I’ve made a lot of progress—especially while you were gone and I had nothing to do but think about how angry I was at them both. Resisting telepathic probes is mainly a matter of paying attention; for most people, simple shields are enough on a daily basis, because no one is actively trying to breach them. Vanu’A is a successful telepath not just because she’s so powerful, but also because most people don’t know what she can do, and aren’t expecting her.” She made a grim face. “Well, I know what she can do, and I am expecting her. She can still get into my head, but it takes a lot more effort now, and she can’t do it without me knowing. So that look was my way of reminding her that if she tried to eavesdrop on us in here, she’d regret it.”
I frowned as I pondered a question. “That’s odd…”
“What?” She punctuated her own question with another kiss.
“If mental shielding is a matter of focus and concentration, then why does Vanu’A act like she can read Tofan Res? She seems to know everything he does, but surely he could have strengthened his own shields the way you did, a long time ago.”
Maire agreed that this was curious, but after batting it around for a few minutes, we were no closer to an answer than when we started, so I switched to what I thought would be a more profitable line of discussion.
“What happened after I was gone? How did you persuade Tofan Res to bring me back?”
My wife’s face clouded and she turned away. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”
“Why? What happened?” I took her by the shoulders and brought her around to face me, fear rising in my breast.
She spoke softly, head bowed. “When you disappeared, I went after Tofan Res, just like you did. But Vanu’A knew what I was going to do before I did; I was lucky she didn’t shoot me, but then again, she didn’t have to. She grabbed me and held me pinned while Tofan Res explained that he’d sent you back to your own time. I didn’t believe him, but he even offered to send me back to join you. Of course, I didn’t believe that, either, so I told him what I thought of his offer in language you pr
obably wouldn’t approve of.”
Despite our situation, I smiled. Maire had always thought me something of a prudish man; even the idea of our marriage had struck her as quaint at first, although I believe she had come to treasure it as much as I.
“I would have welcomed you, but this time period needs you more than I do.”
She buried her face in my chest and telepathically called my bluff in coarse terms.
“I came back here and sat for almost two days. Like I said, it did wonders for my mental shielding but not a whole lot for getting you back. I couldn’t think of anything I could offer Tofan Res that he wanted. I did offer to open up the Library for him, since the Librarian wouldn’t cooperate after you were gone, but he said he didn’t need it anymore. So I asked him what he did need, and he told me. I agreed to it, and he agreed to bring you back. And here you are.”
There was a momentary and deep silence between us.
“Maire, my love, what did you agree to do?”
“I told him that since you had refused to do it, I would kill Farren for him.”
Chapter 46
The Truth Will Out
Once I had recovered my equilibrium and my mind was again engaged, I gathered Maire even closer in my arms, favoring her with a sad, fond smile.
“Oh, my love. You are such a terrible liar.”
She pushed away from me. “I just told you that I agreed to murder a man just to get you back, and you call me a liar?”
I have no idea how Tofan Res’s time travel device differs from that employed by the 23rd century “silver door” that I had originally used, but in either case the actual journey seems to take no time at all. And yet I have to wonder if subjectively, and subconsciously, it requires an appreciable interval, because it seemed that at some time unknown, my brain had run through an elaborate reasoning process relating to certain questions that I had not even thought to ask, and produced an answer that had resulted in my recent rude comment to my wife. And yet, as I evaluated this process in the clear light of reason, I could see no flaw in it.
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