Biding Time- the Chestnut Covin

by E W Barnes

  “This one doesn’t make any sense,” she said, confusion written across her face as she pulled it out of the plastic sleeve. “This says Kevin’s family died in a fire after an earthquake. That did not happen. I have met them, visited in the house this article says burned. This did not happen.”

  “When I researched the articles, that one was the only one I could find that was published. But they have all been published in this timeline… except this one,” Sharon said, handing Rose the article describing her own death.

  “I hate to say this, but I think we could be in a rapid shift anomaly,” Caelen said. He looked more serious and worried than Sharon had ever seen him. Rose’s face paled.

  “What is a rapid shift anomaly?” Sharon asked.

  “It has been hypothesized by temporal experts that multiple changes in the past in rapid succession could negate the temporal amplifier’s protection from paradox,” Rose said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that enough changes in the past happening too quickly could overwhelm the cognitive link maintained by the temporal amplifier. We would lose knowledge of our timeline and be changed along with the past. We would no longer know the past was changed and could do nothing to fix it,” Caelen answered.

  “That would mean we could not get into the right timeline again,” Sharon said with dawning horror. “Olive would still be dead, my sister would still be in a coma, and my brother would stay drunk and depressed and no longer with his family.”

  “It could be worse than that,” Rose said. “The Temporal Protection Corps might not be formed in this timeline; I might not become a chrono-historian…”

  “And not go back in time, marry my grandfather, and then my family and I won’t exist,” Sharon finished.

  “Without the Temporal Protection Corps, there would be no way to stop unscrupulous people from tampering with the timeline for their own benefit,” Caelen added.

  “The Chestnut Covin,” Sharon said.

  “What have you learned about the Chestnut Covin?” Rose asked. Sharon told her about her encounter with Kevin and what he and Caelen had told her.

  “Kevin knew who you were in the present, and not in 1962. What does that tell us?” Caelen asked.

  “He may have not known her in the present, either,” Rose answered. “His companion Lloyd may have told him to say that as a way of earning Sharon’s trust.”

  “They were here asking about the bookcases, too. We overheard them,” Sharon added. “And Kevin said he wanted Grandmother’s temporal amplifier before he attacked me in my apartment. If they are changing the past, they must have a temporal amplifier already. Why would they be interested in this one as well?”

  “That is a great question,” Rose said. She got up with renewed energy.

  “Your temporal amplifier is in the bookcases, yes?” she said walking over to the bookcase and swinging it wide.

  “Let’s see if we can figure this out,” Rose said, and gave the control panel a final definitive tap. There was a low humming, and then a figure appeared.

  “The Temporal Amplifier Holographic Interface and Security Program is now activated,” it said. It was the holographic image of Sharon’s grandmother, Mrs. Bower. Rose circled the figure, eying it speculatively.

  “It looks like she programmed it with her own image around the same time I visited her, before her death,” Rose said.

  “Ah, Commander Sprucewood, welcome back,” the image said. “You may call me Mrs. Bower.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Bower,” Rose answered. “We need your assistance. Please assess this portable interface unit. It is not functioning. Can you ascertain why it is malfunctioning?”

  Rose set her portable interface unit onto the control panel.

  “The temporal amplifier to which this unit is attached is no longer connected to the interface unit,” Mrs. Bower said.

  Rose accepted that information stoically.

  “Are you connected with the TPC mainframe?”

  “I am unable to access the Temporal Protection Corps mainframe,” Mrs. Bower answered.

  “Remember how Richard had no information on the Humanitarian America group?” Caelen asked. He sounded worried again.

  “What is interfering with your connection?” Rose asked, concern etched on her face.

  “I am uncertain,” Mrs. Bower answered. “I am connected to the temporal nexus, but not to the mainframe.”

  “What does that mean? What’s the temporal nexus?” Sharon asked.

  “The temporal nexus makes time travel possible,” Caelen answered.

  “I thought the temporal amplifier was the time machine.”

  “The temporal amplifier taps into the temporal nexus, and it is the temporal nexus that makes the time travel happen,” Caelen said. “Think of it like many computer terminals attached to a central server. Each user may have a keyboard and monitor, but the data and computing take place on one server. The temporal amplifiers are like the terminals, and the temporal nexus is like the server.”

  “We have access to time travel, but not to the Temporal Protection Corps computer.”

  “Correct,” said Rose turning her attention to Mrs. Bower again. “What could interfere with your connection to the TPC mainframe?”

  “Connection with the mainframe could be interrupted by a coronal mass ejection…”

  “A solar flare,” Caelen said for Sharon’s benefit.

  “I know what a coronal mass ejection is,” Sharon said crossly, almost missing Mrs. Bower’s next statement.

  “… a magnitude temporal event…”

  Caelen raised his eyebrows at Sharon who said: “Ok, I need help with that one.”

  “Lots of people using many temporal amplifiers at the same time,” he said with a grin.

  “… or proscription of the mainframe.”

  Sharon waited for Caelen to explain but he was staring at Mrs. Bower with a look of shock on his face.

  “What could cause proscription of the mainframe,” Rose asked almost in a whisper.

  “Retroactive proscription of the mainframe could theoretically be caused by a rapid shift anomaly,” Mrs. Bower answered.

  Sharon paced the floor in the library while Rose and Caelen asked Mrs. Bower complex and technical questions. But they learned little more from Mrs. Bower, no matter how they phrased their inquiries.

  What Sharon knew for certain was this: They were running out of time.

  ◆◆◆

  “The bottom line is that we are on our own to solve this problem, right?” Sharon asked, overriding the latest non-answer answer from Mrs. Bower, speaking before Rose and Caelen could ask another question.

  “A succinct summary,” Mrs. Bower said before Rose or Caelen could respond.

  “If we are facing a rapid shift anomaly, we need to understand the goals of the rapid changes to know how to stop it,” Rose said.

  Sharon and Caelen described their shifts to 1980 and 1968. Sharon told them about the conversation she overheard in the bathroom, and how Kevin said his shift to 1984 was to confirm the successful results of the delivery of the fax specifications in 1980. She also showed them the photo she had taken of the painting over the bed, telling them how it had held her attention.

  “Could the painting be an anachronism?” she asked.

  “It’s an abstract expressionist work by Willem de Kooning, painted in the late 40s or early 50s,” Rose said. “An interesting piece, but not something out of the ordinary for 1962.”

  “Fax machine specs and solar power technology… and the Soviet’s attending the Olympics in Los Angeles in 1984. What’s the connection?” Caelen asked.

  “Didn’t you say the man who Kevin gave the solar technology to in 1962 was Russian?” Rose asked.

  “He sounded Russian,” Sharon answered.

  “I learned from your grandmother that the error in 1940 takes place during a clandestine meeting between the British and Soviet governments during the first days of the Blitz,”
Rose said, thoughtfully. “One conclusion is that all these errors connected with the Soviet Union result in a massive change in the timeline.”

  “And if we go to 1940 and stop Kevin from doing… whatever it is he is doing, will that correct things?”

  “Yes,” Rose said, looking keenly at Sharon. “If we can stop the error in 1940, I believe we can stop the rapid shift anomaly.”

  “What are we waiting for?” Sharon said, her anxiety making her impatient. “Let’s go!”

  “We need to plan this shift more carefully than any of our previous shifts, Shar,” Caelen said, squeezing her hand in reassurance.

  “I had everything we needed at the safe house in 1962 - period clothes, money, background identity information, and the diplomatic papers needed for us to attend the meeting,” Rose said.

  “Let’s go get what we need,” Sharon said.

  Rose held up the remote. “We can’t if this doesn’t work.”

  “We still have the bookcases. Caelen and I shifted into a parking lot and traveled to the house from there with you in 1962. Can’t we do that again?”

  Rose nodded. “That’s a good idea. Even if the temporal amplifier is no longer working at the safe house, the materials I brought should still be there.” Rose went to the control panel and tapped in commands.

  “Protected from paradox by the temporal penumbra, right?” Sharon whispered to Caelen. “At least I can talk the talk,” she said, as he grinned at her.

  They made their plans. In the morning they would shift to 1962, gather the materials, then shift back to the library to prepare for the shift to 1940. Sharon spread out the sleeping bag she had been using so that Rose could share it, using extra clothes to serve as a pillow and blankets. Sharon was eager to make the shift to 1940. We just need to do that once more, Sharon thought as she fell asleep, then we can stop this and set everything right.

  ◆◆◆

  In the morning they had a quick meal of what was left of the sandwiches. While a good night’s sleep had rejuvenated her, it did nothing to ease Sharon’s sense that they needed to hurry.

  “There’s no rush,” Caelen said. “Remember, we have a time machine. We can wait a week and still get to yesterday if we need to.”

  She understood the logic, but it did not ease her anxiety. She was first in the library, waiting for the others. She was happy to defer to Rose to set the place and time for their return to 1962.

  “I have us arriving around the corner from the safe house,” she explained. “It will save us time,” she added with a smile at Sharon, handing her the remote. “Once we are inside, the materials we need for 1940 are in a box in the upstairs office. While we are there, I can see if we can access the TPC mainframe via Richard,” she added.

  Sharon felt relief when the world seemed to slow down, ripple redly, and flicker around them. Then she was standing under a tree on a sidewalk, the air heavy with August heat and the impending storm.

  Rose led the way around the corner, and soon they were making their way up the walk to the townhouse. Rose opened the door to the cool inside. They saw Richard walking down the hall towards them.

  “Good afternoon, Richard. This is Caelen Winters and Sharon Gorse. They are here on my recognizance,” she said, giving him the code to accept Caelen and Sharon.

  Richard did not answer her. Instead, he raised his arm, pointing his palm at them.

  “Look out!” Caelen shouted, pushing Sharon into the parlor in which they had sipped iced tea. There was an electric hum, and a zapping sound. A bolt of energy hit the wall behind them and left it smoking.

  “Richard, stop!” Rose shouted. Richard made no response, instead aiming at her as she ducked into a bathroom off the hallway next to the parlor, locking the door behind her. There was another hum and zap, melting the bathroom door handle into the door frame. Rose banged on the handle and could not get it open.

  Confident she was trapped, Richard walked back to the parlor to find Sharon and Caelen.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Sharon and Caelen ran toward the parlor as Richard stalked down the hall after Rose. They stopped in the doorway scanning the room for a place to hide.

  “Here!” Caelen said as he ducked behind one of the double doors that opened from the parlor into the hallway. Sharon followed his lead behind the other, trying to be silent and unmoving.

  They heard Rose slam the bathroom door and the zap of energy as Richard melted the door handle. Rose’s yell echoed against the bathroom walls and the door thudded in its frame and she struggled with the melted handle. After a moment’s silence, she hammered on the door to distract Richard from pursuing Sharon and Caelen.

  Richard ignored the distraction. Through the crack between the door and the wall Sharon saw Richard turn from the bathroom door and head back down the hall towards the parlor. She held her breath. If he realized they were behind the doors, they had nowhere to run.

  Richard paused in the doorway to the parlor. Sharon could see him scanning the room, looking for where they had hidden. Caelen was watching through the crack as well and when her eyes met his, he raised his hand to the crack, holding up one finger, then two, then three. Richard stepped forward into the parlor.

  “Now!” Caelen shouted, and they slammed the parlor doors closed behind Richard, trapping him in the parlor. Sharon turned the key in the lock, breathing heavily.

  “We must hurry,” Caelen said racing up the stairs. Sharon followed him into the study.

  “Can he get out?” Sharon panted.

  “Yes,” Caelen answered, opening a closet door in the corner. “He can dematerialize out of the parlor and re-materialize anywhere in the house. Do you have the remote control?”

  “Yes,” Sharon said, pulling it out of her pocket.

  “Be ready,” he said as he pulled items out of the closet looking for the box Rose had described containing the things, they needed for 1940. Sharon heard a thrum from the temporal amplifier in the desk and then footsteps in the hall outside the study. Richard was coming for them.

  “Caelen…” Sharon whispered.

  “Not yet,” he said, not bothering to whisper. Richard already knew they were there. Sharon saw a shadow under the study door. The handle was turning…

  “Got it,” Caelen said, standing up with a box in his arms. “Get us out of here!”

  Sharon pushed the button as Richard opened the door to the study his open palm facing them. The study became a pale blue whirlwind, and then they were in the library, Rose gasping beside them.

  “How?” Rose asked, bewildered. Sharon explained as Caelen set the box down, and began methodically pulling things out, sorting what he found.

  “That was brilliant,” Rose said when Sharon finished. “I was worried that he’d hurt you, or worse.”

  “Why did he attack us?” Sharon asked.

  “He did not recognize me as an agent,” Rose answered. “He reacted to us as if we were a security threat.”

  “That’s impossible,” Caelen said. “Your temporal amplifier should have been imprinted with your visual, voice, and DNA template. There is no way Richard could not recognize you.”

  “Unless I was never imprinted in the first place,” Rose answered grimly.

  “I don’t understand,” Sharon said.

  “Something has changed, and my imprint was never incorporated into that temporal amplifier. That would explain Richard seeing us as a security threat, and why the remote control did not work.”

  “And why we can’t connect with the TPC mainframe,” Caelen said.

  Rose shook her head in frustration. “I wish we could have inspected the temporal amplifier in 1962. Our access to TCP resources is being eliminated one-by-one.”

  “When I brought us back from 1962 with the remote control, why didn’t all the parts of the house between us come along, too,” Sharon asked as they examined the materials that had been in the box.

  “The portable interface unit does not have a temporal penumbra effect,” Rose
said. “It only shifts the people for which it is programmed.”

  “That’s why I had to be holding the box before you could activate it,” Caelen added.

  He had sorted from the box three pairs of brown wool trousers, one men’s and two women’s, along with crisp cotton shirts, and military style jackets, also made of wool, with brown ties. There were also well-made brown leather shoes, low-heeled and practical, with matching wool socks. Finally, they each had a full-length lightweight raincoat.

  “It will be late September and depending on how long we must stay, we may be there into early October. We will probably see rain.” Rose did not see Caelen’s face fall. “I believe the Meteorological Office described the weather in October 1940 as ‘dull’ and ‘wet on the whole’.”

  She pulled out three envelopes from the box. There were typed pages along with British currency from 1940 and identification cards with their photos. Sharon realized this was what “temporal assimilation and infiltration” meant.

  “We will be there as part of the staff of the American Ambassador. I will be a newly hired attaché focused on the war evaluation at home, and you will be my assistants. We will attend a very important meeting with British, U.S., and Soviet government representatives to coordinate a unified response to Nazi Germany. While I don’t expect we will be called on to interact very much, everything you need to know is in those summaries. Read up and get prepared.”

  ◆◆◆

  The wool was scratchy, and Sharon was glad for the cotton shirt between her skin and the jacket. She was tempted to slip on some leggings under the wool trousers to make them more comfortable. The pockets in the pants were generous, though, with more than enough room for her phone.

  She had more trouble with her hair though. She couldn’t figure out how to get it into the “victory rolls” that defined the era. She managed a twist pinned on either side of her head and let the rest fall loose on her neck.

  Caelen had a bigger challenge. Rose insisted that he shave his beard. As if she was expecting it, Rose had conjured a razor out of the box Caelen had somehow missed. He plodded into the bathroom, emerging 20 minutes later clean-shaven. When he changed into his uniform, he looked like a photo from an old magazine or from an old news-reel film.