A Large Anthology of Science Fiction

by Jerry

  “Stop bitching and get dressed. Better fifteen feet up than one foot under.” Rhodes stripped off his jumpsuit. He shivered as the cold air hit his sweaty skin. He opened his travel pack, removed his clothing one piece at a time, and dressed. “The next time you speak, my dear, make it appropriate to our present surroundings.”

  “Why waste the effort on you? I’ll be fine when the time comes.” She pulled on the corset and turned around so he could lace her up. She exhaled sharply as he tightened and tied the corset. “At least it’s warm.”

  A dog barked. They both jumped.

  Rhodes fumbled with his tie. He pointed to a dull glow several miles away. “London. The sun should be coming up in a few hours. April eighth, 1912. We’ll check the newspapers to make sure.”

  Vikashmo bit her lip and forced her right foot into a small black leather shoe. “These damn ghosts must have a high tolerance for pain. Or maybe they just get off on it.”

  “Let’s go. We want both sources operational by this time tomorrow.” Rhodes walked carefully down the hill. He could make out a wooden fence in the faint light. Even with the coming of day, his surroundings would have a dreamlike quality. His sensory input was the same as in real time, but there was an emotional block that made time travel unreal. They were taught to do whatever it took to finish the job. Nothing back there had any real moral consequence. At least, not to the company.

  “Wait,” Vikashmo wobbled down the hill after him, trying to button her navy serge dress.

  Rhodes smiled as he straddled the fence. There was a road on the other side. It led toward the lights he hoped were London.

  Rhodes hated the room. The wallpaper was peeling, although it had been pasted back up in several places. There was only one small window, facing the noisy street. The stained curtains and other furnishings stank of tobacco smoke. He minimized his olfactory input and stared at the ceiling.

  Flawn had constantly badgered him to open up to the past, which was opposed to company training. She had even tried to seduce him when they were on the Marie Antoinette job. Just to prove sex was as good there as in real time. Rhodes said no, figuring it was bad policy to fuck the boss, no matter how much you cared about her. A week hadn’t gone by since then that he wondered if he’d made the right decision. That was seven years ago. Or a few centuries, depending on how you looked at it.

  He’d sent Vikashmo ahead to Southampton to book them into first class on the Titanic, and to rig a nonsurvivor if she got the chance. Rhodes had told Vikashmo to stay out of Flawn’s way if they crossed paths, and wait for him to handle her. How he’d handle her was something he hadn’t decided on. The company would have his ass if he got hold of Flawn and just let her go. She’d told several top company people, including Jain, to eat shit. Then she’d quit and formed her own operation. Rhodes’s stomach burned. He’d just have to decide when the time came.

  Rhodes was ready to light up the first ghost. He spent the better part of the day finding her, The address he’d researched was right, but she was staying with her aunt in preparation for the trip, Rhodes used body language and charm to persuade the housekeeper to tell him where she was staying. The aunt’s house was on the northeast outskirts of the city.

  The girl had left with a young man well before sunset. Dinner, Rhodes figured. It was dark now. There were only two lights on in the house, one in the parlor and one upstairs. Probably her bedroom.

  Rhodes shivered and waited. He sat in the spidery gray shadows under the trees, just off the path. The moon was less than half-full, and waning.

  He heard slow clopping hooves in the distance. The sound stopped before reaching him. He heard a man laugh. Rhodes moved quietly through the trees toward him.

  They were still seated in the carriage. The young girl wore a white dress with embroidered lace at the sleeves and a light blue shawl. Her brown hair was pulled into a bun. Rhodes could not see her face. The man wore a plain gray suit and was clean-shaven. He was well under six feet tall but well-muscled.

  “I’m so glad we were able to see each other tonight,” the man said.

  The woman whispered a reply. Rhodes could not hear her well enough to make it out. He continued to advance slowly, using the trees as cover.

  “To tell the truth, I’m damned envious. An ocean cruise to the States. And on the Titanic. I only wish we could make the trip together.” He laughed softly. “I don’t think your family would approve.”

  “You mustn’t joke about such things.” She stepped down out of the carriage, resisting her companion’s attempts to help her. “We haven’t been nearly discreet enough as it is.”

  The young man jumped from the carriage and embraced her, lifting her off the ground as they kissed. Rhodes felt an instant of jealousy. He took an anesthetic capsule out of his pocket.

  She pulled away and pushed hard against his chest. “None of that now. I have to go back to the house before they start to worry. Let go.”

  He let her down slowly. “They don’t even know we’re here. After I made a special effort to see you, I was hoping you’d say goodbye in a somewhat more passionate manner.”

  She pulled her shawl tightly about her shoulders. “Which was very presumptuous.” She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Now be off. I’m traveling tomorrow and need sleep.”

  “Shall I walk you to the door?”

  She waved him off. “I’ll see you when I return. I should have quite a few stories to tell.”

  The man climbed into the carriage. “Mind you don’t get too well acquainted with any American gentlemen. I should hate to start another war with them.”

  She smiled and blew a kiss as he drove off, then walked up the path toward the house. Rhodes moved quickly through the undergrowth, cutting the distance between them. She paused and looked up at the night sky. Rhodes popped the capsule under her nose. She went limp in his arms without a sound. He carried her into the trees and laid her down on her stomach, then took the instruments from his bag. She would be out no more than fifteen minutes.

  Rhodes felt for the base of her skull. He fixed the implanter to her neck and hit the sterilization switch. There was a cold hiss. He bent down to look at the instrument’s small screen, which displayed a cutaway view of her skull. He positioned the cursor carefully and activated the implant mechanism. A microthin filament pierced through the flesh and underlying tissues, penetrating to the center of the brain. As the filament retracted, the implant extruded nerve-thin fibers to the various sensory centers. In thirty seconds it was finished. Rhodes removed the implanter. He examined the hairline for the wound. Rhodes felt a tiny moist bump. It would be gone by morning.

  He checked the receiver. Bubbles were rising slowly inside the globe. It was activated and recording.

  Rhodes brushed the dirt from her clothing and picked her up. She was only moderately pretty, but had full lips and long eyelashes. He was uneasy. It got worse with every implantation. He carried her to the edge of the trees and carefully laid her down. He took a step back, then bent down and kissed her on the lips.

  He walked back through the trees toward the road and raised his sensory input to a dangerously high level. He concentrated on the girl, keeping as much of her with him for as long as possible.

  Stupid, he thought. She’s just a ghost.

  The moon was sinking below the horizon when he reached town.

  Rhodes felt suffocated. He shouldered his way slowly through the hundreds of ghosts on the Southampton station platform. It was almost as bad as the simulator. He didn’t see Vikashmo.

  A young boy tugged at his coat sleeve. “Excuse me, sir. Are you Mr. Rhodes?”

  The boy had crooked teeth and dirty brown hair. His gray trousers and white shirt were tom and soiled. His eyes were hard. Rhodes figured he was about ten years old.

  “Possibly. Does that concern you?”

  The boy nodded and shoved a buff-colored envelope into Rhodes’s hand. Rhodes unfolded the note inside:

  Vikash
mo won’t be able to meet you as she’s in jail.

  Got you first-class accommodations.

  See you on board.

  Flawn

  There was also a passport and a first-class ticket for the Titanic. Rhodes put them into his coat pocket and looked up. The boy was gone.

  The Titanic’s three great steam whistles boomed out across Southampton harbor. People on the shore waved handkerchiefs at friends and relatives standing by the railing.

  Rhodes could smell the sea. The decaying scent made him nauseated, but was also strangely intoxicating. The ghost world was coming into focus. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

  There was a sound like gunshots. Another ship, the New York, had broken loose from its moorings and was being drawn toward the Titanic by the suction of the big ship’s engines. Passengers backed away from the rail. The Titanic’s engines stopped and a tug shoved the New York away only moments before she would have slammed into the Titanic.

  Rhodes took a deep breath and walked down the deck toward the wireless cabin. The ghosts were still talking about the close call with the other ship. He paused outside, then knocked on the door.

  A young man answered. His eyes were bright and intense; he would have been ideal for implantation. He had brown hair and pale skin. His tailored blue uniform was neatly pressed, and his shoes and buttons were brightly polished. “Can I be of service, sir?”

  “You’re John Phillips, first Marconi operator on this vessel?”

  “That I am, sir. Is there something I can help you with?” He had his hand on the door and looked like he wanted to get back to work.

  “No. Not at the moment. I may have a cable for you to send later and wanted to thank you beforehand for your assistance.”

  “Mr. Bride or I will be happy to take care of it for you, sir.” He stepped back into the cabin. “Now, if you will excuse me.”

  “Of course,” Rhodes said. He exhaled slowly. Other than having the same general height and build, Phillips looked nothing like him. Something else was going on. He knew Flawn was involved somehow, but he wouldn’t get any answers until he found her.

  The Titanic had less than nine hours to live. Rhodes’s feet and legs ached. He had spent the entire voyage searching the ship. He checked the promenades, libraries, verandas, even the smoking rooms. Flawn was either staying out of sight or was not on the ship at all. He wanted like hell to see her, but his anticipation was beginning to fade into nervousness. It wasn’t like Flawn to play it coy. Maybe she was setting him up.

  It was early enough that he had no trouble getting a table at the A La Carte Restaurant. The evening shadows lengthened across the two-tone Dubarry rose carpeting. A trio composed of violin, cello, and piano played “The Blue Danube.”

  The bright light reflected off the glasses and starched white tablecloths, hurting his eyes. He wasn’t used to sensory input hitting him this hard in the past. He picked up the crystal wineglass and flicked it with his finger. It rang with beautiful clarity. There was nothing this straightforward in real time.

  The waiter cleared his throat. “Are you ready to order, sir?” Rhodes folded up the menu. “I’d like the filets de soles a la tartare. And could you recommend a wine?”

  “Very good, sir. Your wine has already been selected by another party.” The waiter took the menu and smiled.

  “Another party?” Rhodes looked around the room.

  “Yes, sir. The lady stopped in our first day out, described you, and said you’d be in at least once during the course of the voyage. I’m sure you’ll find her selection satisfactory.”

  Flawn knew Rhodes’s weakness for French cuisine. “What did the lady look like?”

  “Average height, Red hair. Very much a lady. Had an accent, much like your own.” The waiter fidgeted. “If there is a problem . . .”

  “No. No,” Rhodes interrupted. “If you see her again, thank her for me.”

  The waiter nodded and left.

  The fish was delicious, but Rhodes did little more than push it around the plate. He kept expecting Flawn to show up, and was playing over possible conversations in his head. The shadows gave way to darkness and he was still alone. He recalled several eyewitness accounts of the ship sinking.

  “She broke forward, and the after part righted itself and made another plunge and went right down.”

  “Broke in two between third and fourth funnel. Stem section falls back horizontal, then tips and plunges.”

  He couldn’t understand how anyone on the ship could give such a bloodless account of fifteen hundred people dying. Rhodes wished he could manage such emotional detachment. It had never been a problem before.

  Flawn would have to show herself soon.

  Rhodes lay on his bed. In less than half an hour the ship would strike the iceberg. He would have at least an hour to get to lifeboat number 1 or 7. Both had taken on men.

  There was a knock at the door. He got up off the bed and opened it.

  “Hello, Rhodes. Hope you hadn’t given up on me.”

  She looked older than he had expected. Seven years ago she had been fighting off middle age. Now, the fight was over. The skin on her face and hands was wrinkled. She’d put on weight. Whatever tone her body once had was gone. Only her bright red hair and knowing eyes were the same.

  “Thanks for the wine.” He couldn’t decide whether to hug her or kick her ass for staying hidden. He fought to subdue his jumbled feelings.

  “You always did love it when I cooked French.” She took off her ermine coat, revealing a black satin dress. “Mind if I sit down?”

  “Anywhere you want. What the hell is going on?”

  Flawn settled into the armchair and smiled. “What do you want to know about first?”

  “Vikashmo.”

  “She came looking for me. Oh, I made sure I was highly visible. Didn’t want to make it too hard on her. She broke into my hotel room. The two bodyguards I hired caught her and took her to the police. When she gets pulled back to real time, she’ll be mad as hell. But I had to get her out of the way. This is just you and me. Like old times.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I need your help. Plain and simple. And I think you need mine.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Don’t play tough with me. We don’t have the time. I always treated you better than anyone else because of how I felt. Bet you’re still sorry you didn’t screw me.”

  “Yeah, well. I’m more sorry I was never able to get away from the company. A great lay is a lot easier to find than a great boss.”

  “You always did know how to flatter me. How would you like to get away from the company, work for me?”

  “I’d love it. But there’s no chance of that. After you left they fixed it so they didn’t lose anyone else. The few who’ve tried ended up in the glass house.”

  “Trust me. I can manage it.” She stood slowly. “Let’s stroll up to the bow. It’s almost time.”

  Rhodes helped her into her coat. “Whatever you say.”

  They stared out into the cold darkness. The night was clear and calm. Rhodes had no hat and his ears and nose were getting numb.

  “What about Phillips?”

  “I doctored the historical evidence. Not too much trouble really.” She put her hand to her mouth and coughed.

  “You knew I’d fight to be the one sent back.”

  “Most jumpers would run from something like that. Not you. I knew you’d have to find out what was really going on.”

  “And the trick in the simulator?” He felt stupid talking shop, but the time they’d spent apart made the more important issues awkward.

  “I’ve still got a few friends inside the company.” She smiled.

  Rhodes looked at his watch. It was 11:38 p.m. “There,” he said, pointing.

  The twin-peaked iceberg was slightly darker than the night sky behind it, and directly in the ship’s path. Rhodes watched it grow in size for several long moments. Someone in the crow’s nest r
ang a bell three times.

  “We’d better back off from here,” he said, holding her by the elbow. In less than sixty seconds a ton of ice would cascade down onto the well deck. They walked back along the starboard promenade deck.

  The Titanic backed her engines and began to swing slowly to port. They stood by the rail and watched. There was a muffled sound of buckling metal, then a splintering crash as the ice fell on the deck. The ice that some passengers would initially pick up as souvenirs. The berg, glistening dark blue, passed by almost close enough to touch.

  He was cold inside. He had seen ghosts die before. Time and again. But this was different. He couldn’t ignore the tragedy that was taking place around him.

  People, dressed in their evening clothes, began coming out on the deck.

  “Excuse me. sir.” A man tapped him on the shoulder. “Did you see what happened?”

  “I believe we’ve hit an iceberg.” He managed a level tone.

  “Really,” said another. “How inconvenient. Do you think it’s serious?”

  Rhodes shrugged and rubbed his ears, trying to warm them.

  “Let’s go to my cabin,” Flawn said.

  Rhodes nodded. Inside, people were still drinking, playing cards, and listening to the band. In less than three hours, there would be only the Atlantic Ocean. They paused at the bottom of the grand staircase. On the landing was a large clock flanked by two carved figures. Underneath was inscribed: honor and glory crowning time. They walked slowly up the huge wrought-iron staircase. He felt sick.

  He recognized her when she stuck her head out of the doorway. The young woman looked even prettier in the warm light of the hallway. She was wearing her nightdress and had the blue shawl over her shoulders. She rubbed her eyes and looked in both directions down the hall.

  “Did you hear something a few moments ago?” She looked more sleepy than concerned. She crossed her arms over her chest as they approached.