Time Patrol

by Bob Mayer

  “We use muons,” Frasier said to Hannah, Edith, and Golden, “to alert us when a Rift opens.”

  “Yes,” Foreman said. “And Odessa used the Demon Core to open a Rift at Area 51 in 1947, with disastrous results. In a way, we opened up Pandora’s box. While our timeline had been penetrated many times over the course of history, it was always from the outside, never from our world out. It might well be the Sentinel concept, where we’d advanced to the point where our technology was a threat to others, and they finally took notice of us.”

  “Sentinel?” Golden asked.

  “Arthur C. Clarke’s story,” Foreman said. “On which the movie 2001 was based. There are lines our civilization can cross that indicate we’ve advanced enough to be a threat.”

  “It didn’t help sending the Nazis on Odessa through along with the Demon Core,” Hannah pointed out.

  “That wasn’t the plan,” Foreman said. “I’m not really sure the scientists who did that had a plan. I think they were fumbling around in the dark, experimenting.”

  “And how were you involved in all this?” Hannah asked.

  “I wasn’t at first. I was investigating what I thought were natural phenomena: places on the planet where people, ships, and planes disappeared, such as the Bermuda Triangle and the Devil’s Sea. I’d lost comrades to those places. When Odessa opened the first Rift, I saw the classified report, because I was on the committee that helped form Majestic-12. We were, still are, like children, trying to understand things far beyond us.”

  “What do you understand now?” Hannah asked.

  “Above all,” Foreman said, “we have to protect our timeline. Everything else is secondary to that. You understand that. Bodyguard of lies, etc.”

  “So you’ve been lying.” Hannah didn’t say it as a question.

  Foreman turned to Frasier. “Unblock the rest of Ms. Frobish’s memory if you will.”

  Edith’s jaw dropped. She stared at Foreman. “You, you—” She couldn’t phrase the proper profanities, being a person unused to such.

  “Wait.” The Keep finally spoke up. “There’s more?”

  “Are you sure?” Frasier asked.

  Foreman held up his hand, indicating his watch. “I think it’s time we learn more about the Patrol. Things seem to be reaching a crisis point.”

  Frasier pulled out the device and handed the earbuds to Edith. “You know the drill.”

  “The heck with you!” Edith exclaimed, slapping his hands away.

  Frasier shrugged. “Just doing as ordered. You want it all back or not?”

  Golden put a hand on Edith’s shoulder. “Just do it. We’ll sort all this out later.”

  Edith reluctantly put the earbuds in and Frasier activated the device. Edith squinched her eyes shut, grimaced, and it was over just as quickly.

  Edith ripped the earbuds out and looked up at the gate. “We need the HUB to align it correctly.”

  “Yes, we do,” Foreman agreed.

  * * *

  “Ivar!” Scout said, hugging the short, lost Nightstalker.

  “Guess you didn’t go AWOL,” Nada allowed as their small group linked up with the band led by Amelia Earhart.

  Moms approached the legend with more deference than she usually showed. “Ma’am.”

  “Call me Amelia,” the other woman responded. She held up a hand, getting everyone’s attention. “Gather in close. There’s no time for explanation or discussion,” Earhart told the combined groups. She pointed at Sin Fen. “We’ve met before, and we trust each other. The rest of you are going to have to decide whether to trust or not.” She turned to Moms. “You’re here for the Ratnik?”

  “Yes. But our priority is to locate our Time Patrol.”

  Earhart frowned. “If you lost contact with this Patrol of yours, it must be because of the Ratnik, since they are from your timeline.” Earhart pointed toward the dune, where two samurai lay in watch. “The Ratnik are on the other side of that. There are about twenty of them. We’ve never been able to get an accurate count. The good news is, they all aren’t in the Valkyrie suits all the time. We’ve been watching, and we’ve only seen two suited up. We have to assume there are more, as their camp is beyond the tables past the columns in the cavern.”

  “What tables?” Nada asked.

  “They’re reaping,” Earhart said.

  As the Nightstalkers and Neeley exchanged confused glances, Ivar quickly explained the people secured to the tables.

  “Vivisection?” Eagle said when Ivar was done.

  “Huh?” Roland said.

  “The Ratnik are reaping what they need from their victims,” Earhart explained. “They’re not the only ones here in the Space Between, and in other timelines, who do it. But they’re the ones going into your timeline and reaping your people.”

  “It’s how the Ratnik are still alive,” Doc realized.

  “Yes,” Earhart said. “Others die so they may live.”

  “But we’re not here because of this reaping, are we?” Scout said.

  Earhart focused on her for a moment, and then looked at Sin Fen. “She has the sight?”

  Sin Fen nodded. “A touch of it.”

  “That’s good,” Earhart said.

  “What sight?” Scout asked. When neither woman answered, she plowed on. “We’re here because a unit called the Time Patrol disappeared from our timeline. And we’ve got problems in our past that need to be fixed or else our timeline changes. Which will be bad.”

  Nada nodded at Scout’s summary. It would have gone over very well in the Ranger Battalion, leading with the headline.

  Scout wasn’t done. “But Kirk is dead. And these people are people, whether they’re our people or from some other timeline. We should be here to stop the reaping.”

  Earhart and Sin Fen exchanged glances. Earhart faced Scout and gave a quarter bow at the waist. “I defer to your sense of decency and humanity. Let us destroy these Ratnik together.”

  “How?” Moms asked. “We lost most of our weapons and the ones we have”—she slapped the pistol in the holster against her thigh—“don’t work here. Those Valkyrie suits are hard to take down.”

  “These work on the suits,” Earhart said, holding up her spear. “We have extras.”

  “What’s special about these?” Nada asked.

  “They’re Atlantean,” Earhart said.

  “What?” Moms said, surprised.

  “I can feel it,” Scout said, hands wrapped around the one she’d been handed. “Ancient.”

  “Yes,” Sin Fen said.

  “Wait a second,” Eagle said. “Atlantean? You mean from Atlantis?”

  “Yes,” Sin Fen repeated.

  Eagle shook his head. “That’s just a legend. A minor plotline from Plato in the Timaeus and Critias dialogues.”

  “We can discuss legend and reality later,” Sin Fen said. “For now, trust that these spears will cut through Valkyrie armor.”

  Her people passed out the rest of the spears until everyone in the amalgamated group was armed with one. Roland spent a few moments twirling his, getting the feel. He had a big grin on his face, a warrior going elemental. He had a spear in his hands. He had Neeley nearby. It was a good day to fight.

  When Roland stopped playing with his new toy, Nada spoke. “Who’s going to be in command?”

  Earhart gave a half bow. “I am in charge of our small group, but I defer military decisions to Taki.” She indicated one of the samurai. He said something in Japanese and Earhart nodded. “Since he has not quite mastered English, and your group is organized and military, he defers to you.”

  Everyone turned to Moms. She stepped forward. “We want at least one prisoner to interrogate. For the rest, kill them all.” She turned for the dune. “Follow me.”

  Two-Plus Hours

  “What are you talking about?” the Keep demanded.

  Edith glared at Frasier for a moment, and then turned to the others. “This chamber held the gate to the Time Patrol headquarters, not the
headquarters itself.” She shook her head in frustration. “I should have known. I did know. It would be foolish to put the Patrol in any time where its sheer presence could affect things.”

  “What are you talking about?” the Keep asked.

  “This chamber held the HUB, which propagates a gate to the Time Patrol headquarters,” Edith said.

  “Where are the headquarters?”

  “Not now,” Edith said, which confused everyone for a moment except Foreman.

  “The past?” Hannah asked.

  “Of course,” Edith said.

  “When in the past?” Hannah asked.

  Foreman spoke up. “That is classified.”

  “Nobody has a higher classification than I do,” the Keep said.

  Foreman laughed. “You think a lot of yourself. There’s a level of classification you aren’t even aware of. Our problem right now is hoping our people find out who changed the alignment of this gate and get back here with the HUB so we can realign it and make contact with the Patrol.”

  The Keep looked at the countdown on her bomb. “They don’t have much time.”

  “No, we don’t have much time,” Foreman said.

  * * *

  The group crested the dune and started down toward the Ratnik cavern at a trot, Moms in the lead, Nada at her right shoulder, Amelia Earhart at her left, Sin Fen directly behind them with Neeley. Everyone else fanned out from them.

  The opening to the cavern was a hundred yards wide. The ceiling at the front was about twenty feet high, slowly tapering down. Columns of stone stood every few yards, holding up the ceiling. It was impossible to see very far into the cavern as the team descended the dune toward it.

  They reached the first table on which a person was strapped. Scout was sickened to see that the woman was alive, her one intact eye tracking them. Her chest cavity had been cut open, encased in some clear material, and one lung was struggling for air. A strip of the clear material was across her mouth.

  Carefully, very carefully, Scout used the spear to cut the material away from her mouth.

  “Kill me,” the woman managed to rasp.

  “We’ll get you to safety,” Scout promised.

  The woman shook her head. “Too far gone. Kill me.”

  “We’ll—” Scout began but Taki stepped by her and slid his spear right into the woman’s heart.

  He looked at Scout. “It is mercy.” And then he turned to hurry after the others.

  Scout pressed a hand against her own forehead. The pain was growing stronger with every step she took into the cavern. She forced herself to move, to follow the others.

  And then contact was made. With a flurry of edged weapons, Moms’s Nightstalkers and Earhart’s Outcasts attacked the surprised Ratnik.

  Three of the Ratnik were geared up in Valkyrie suits. The others ran toward a row of suits that were split open along the sides.

  “Stop them!” Moms yelled, pointing with her spear, and then she was engaged with the lead Valkyrie, ducking underneath a swipe of long claws. The thing didn’t have a chance for a second swipe as Roland impaled it with his spear. Muscles straining, Roland lifted the Valkyrie over his head, twisting the spear as he did so. He slammed the creature into the ground and put all his weight behind the haft of the spear, sliding it out the back of the thing’s armor into the sand, pinning it in place with his weight.

  Three of Earhart’s Outcasts came up and slammed their spears home into the Valkyrie, finishing it off.

  Taki and one of his samurai took on one of the other Valkyries. Mac, Eagle, and Doc were facing off with the other, while everyone else intercepted the Ratnik, keeping them from the other suits. A battle of sword, spear, and other edged weapons broke out.

  Taki’s partner managed to jab his spear into the Valkyrie’s neck but at the cost of taking a set of claws in the chest, which killed him instantly. Taki didn’t waste the effort, also jamming his spear into the neck joint and twisting.

  The Valkyrie’s head popped off and tumbled to the ground, coming to rest in a cradle of red hair.

  The Valkyrie surrounded by the Nightstalkers chose a different course of action. It rose up into the air, out of range of spears, and accelerated away.

  “Follow it!” Moms ordered. “Take it alive if you can.”

  Mac and Eagle raced after it.

  Nada was in the midst of the melee near the suits. A Russian was jabbing at him, a commando knife in each hand. Nada had his machete in one hand, the spear in the other. He dropped the spear, since the Valkyrie threat seemed over, and focused on using the machete.

  As the Russian made a vicious attack, both blades flashing, Nada took a step back, bumping into the pirate who was using his cutlass against another assailant. Without saying a word, Nada and the pirate both pivoted, reversing positions and attack angles. Nada severed the new Russian’s hand, and then, as the man staggered back in shock, the Nightstalker finished him off by slamming his machete down into the man’s neck, slashing his carotid.

  As that Russian bled out, Nada turned back in time to see the pirate finish off the dual-knife-wielding attacker.

  Nada took a deep breath and got oriented.

  The fighting was over. Over a dozen Russian men, and two Valkyrie, had been slain. Two of Earhart’s people had been killed.

  “Where’s Mac and Eagle?” Nada yelled to Moms.

  She pointed. “Chasing a Valkyrie.”

  “Oh frak,” Nada muttered, and then he took off in that direction, grabbing a spear, still seeing the footprints from the Nightstalkers in the distance even as the black sand slowly settled back into place. He became aware someone was next to him and glanced over. Scout was keeping pace, a spear in her hand. A few steps behind them, and gaining, was Neeley, also carrying a spear, and next to her, Sin Fen.

  “Stay with the rest, Scout,” Nada ordered.

  “Nope.”

  “Frak,” Nada muttered as Neeley and Sin Fen caught up. The four sprinted across the black sand, stride for stride.

  Back at the Ratnik camp, Taki mercied the last two people who’d been reaped. They were beyond saving. He also finished off three Ratnik who’d been getting the parts from the reaped. The Russians were on horizontal tables further in the cavern, hooked up to machines.

  Doc was standing next to those machines, mesmerized. “These are amazing! I believe they do the transplants and other operations automatically. We have robotic surgery but nothing like this. We have to—”

  Moms interrupted him. “The HUB, Doc. Find the HUB.”

  Doc shook himself and shifted his attention. “It would help if we knew what it was.”

  The Ratnik camp looked very much like a rat’s nest. Debris scattered all about, pilfered from ships and craft in the Space Between, but also taken from various moments in the Nightstalkers’ timeline. Piles of cash and jewelry seemed pathetic given the surrounding environment. There was even a cluster of ancient Cambodian artifacts.

  Hoarders of time, surrounded by their own craziness.

  Eagle was standing in front of one of the bodies strapped on a table, and Moms joined him.

  “The guard from the Met,” Eagle said, pointing at the pile of gear at the base of the table. He reached into the pile and pulled out dog tags, slipping them into a pocket.

  “Snatching bodies is how the Valkyries began their myth,” Moms said. “No one knew how real the myth was and what the purpose was.”

  Amelia Earhart walked up, a blood smear on one cheek.

  “Are you hurt?” Moms asked.

  Earhart shook her head. “It’s not mine. I lost some people.”

  “Several of mine are chasing the last Valkyrie,” Moms said. “Do you know what the HUB looks like?”

  “I don’t even know what a HUB is,” Earhart said. She sighed, looking down at the dead Ratnik member. “They were evil, but they were also tired. Tired of this existence, living off of other people.”

  Mac and Eagle had their spears at the ready. The Valkyrie was hov
ering over the shoreline, about five feet up, facing them, claws extended. There were several columns in the water behind it, but for some reason, upon reaching the waterline next to the Spanish galleon, it had halted and turned.

  Both men glanced over their shoulders at the sound of others approaching and were relieved to see Nada, Neeley, Sin Fen, and Scout.

  “It’s just holding in place,” Eagle reported.

  “They fought,” Nada said, “but not like Spetsnaz.”

  “Judging from the body we autopsied back home,” Eagle said, “they’re not in very good shape.”

  The Valkyrie was in place, slowly turning left and right about thirty degrees, enough to take all of them in. Then, surprisingly, it descended until it touched the sand.

  “Ready,” Nada said, lowering his spear.

  With a slight hiss, the white suit split open along one side. A man stepped out of the oversized suit. At least what remained of a man, the figure seeming to be mostly bones and desiccated flesh. His camouflage uniform was mended many times over and threadbare.

  He took a step onto the sand, staggered, regained his balance. “I am Major Alexie Serge, originally of Alfa of the Seventh Administratorate and then on special assignment to the Vympel Group of Duga.”

  “Sergeant Major Edward Moreno,” Nada said, lowering his spear. “United States Army Special Forces.”

  “You must be Delta Force,” Serge said, “to have fought so well.”

  Scout was staring at Nada, processing his real name. “You don’t look like an Edward.”

  “Hush,” Nada said.

  “Are my men dead?” Serge asked.

  “Yes.”

  “They did not want to take orders anymore,” Serge said. “I could not blame them. We just wanted to stay alive.” He recognized one of them. “Sin Fen. You have followed me.”

  “I told you this was over.”

  “You were correct. I am glad I did not allow my men to kill you as they wanted.”

  “It wouldn’t have made any difference,” Sin Fen said.