The Curiosity Killers

by K W Taylor

Kris swatted Ben on the arm, and both of them laughed. It felt good to have a brief moment of normalcy, even if normalcy meant Kris made another sandwich.

  “I guess,” Violet said. She glanced at Ben.

  Kris turned back to her food preparation.

  None of my business.

  “I’ll come,” Ben said.

  None. Of. My. Business.

  “So who’re you guys going to see?” Kris asked. “The cleaners?”

  “Yes,” Vere said. “Miss Lessep, you’ve now met D.B. Cooper, members of the lost colony of Roanoke, and you’re being targeted by Jack the Ripper. How would you like to meet one of the Wright brothers?”

  Violet blinked. “Um, yes, please.”

  Kris took out two new slices of bread. “Don’t get too excited,” she told Violet. “He’s a giant nerd.”

  Ben and Vere both gaped at her.

  “That’s a bit rude,” Vere said.

  “You say ‘nerd’ like it’s a bad thing,” Ben said.

  Kris shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I forgot we have the president and vice president of the nerd brigade right here.”

  ~

  “I don’t want to go.” Alison crossed her arms. “I don’t want you to go, either.”

  “Isn’t it my job?”

  Alison studied her husband. Slender but tall, he took up the entire doorframe between the kitchen and dining room. From the living room, she could hear Violet and Ben speaking in hushed tones. She pushed herself away from the counter she’d been leaning against.

  “It’s your job, my job, only because we can’t do anything else,” she said. “Look, I care about stopping all this, but what happens if they stick this psycho off in some other universe?”

  Wilbur frowned. “Psycho?”

  Alison sighed. “Crazy person. Insane person? Come on. There were creepy crazy people in the nineteen hundreds. This is not a new concept. Psychopath?”

  A light seemed to go on behind his eyes, and he nodded.

  “You’ve read books and been on the internet since you’ve been in this time,” Alison went on. “I’ve seen you. Your lips don’t even move when you read.”

  “I’m an engineer, not a psychiatrist,” Wilbur said. He walked toward Alison and planted a soft kiss on the top of her head as he rubbed her back. “I’ve yet to memorize every bit of slang and turn of phrase to gain popularity in the past two centuries.” He let out a low rumble of a laugh. “Reminds me of going to Europe for the first time. Everything seems in a different language now and again. I’ll be going along quite contentedly, thinking I’ve finally got the hang of this time. Then from nowhere you say something that sets me all to sixes and sevens.”

  “Sixes and sevens?” Alison leaned in to hug Wilbur. “I think the language barrier works both ways, dear.”

  He returned the hug. “I have to help, though,” he said. “Come along with us. Please.”

  “I’m surprised you want to,” Alison said. “What happened to that man Wheaton was truly sad.”

  “Perhaps I can help make it right,” Wilbur said. “Won’t you come?”

  “No. Doctor Vere might need me.” Alison stood up on tiptoe and kissed Wilbur. “Make them keep you safe, and then we’re both retired. How’s that?”

  “How will we live?” Wilbur asked.

  “You can become a mechanic,” Alison said. “And I’ll finish the degree I started.”

  “That was thirty years ago,” Wilbur said. “Won’t they be suspicious at your college how you stayed so young?”

  Alison shrugged. “I’ll tell them I’m a vampire.” She pointed toward the living room. “Those two can’t wait forever. Go on.”

  She watched him join the others in the front room.

  ~

  “I promise you, we took Wheaton home,” Wilbur said. “It’s shocking his rooms should be empty.”

  Ben pulled the door shut. “I have to get this back to the landlord,” he said, pocketing the key.

  “What kind of condition was he in?” Violet asked. “You said it wasn’t good, Mister Wright.”

  “It wasn’t,” Wilbur agreed.

  “Ben, you and Kris had pretty much found the perfect point in Claudio’s time—”

  A door opened down the hall, and Violet quieted as an elderly woman came into view. The woman carried a small dog under her arm and smiled at the group as she passed.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” Wilbur said. “Do you know Mister Wheaton here?” He pointed at Brimley’s empty apartment.

  “Oh, yes, terrible business,” the woman said. “He was drunk in the alley outside. A disgrace.”

  “When was this?” Violet asked.

  “Are you friends of his?” The woman clutched her dog tighter. “I don’t think I’d like to expose Bucky to that sort of fellow, if you’re also…well, I don’t want to be indelicate, but—”

  “FBI,” Violet said, pulling out a wallet badge from inside her jacket.

  “Oh!”

  “Mister Wheaton is part of an ongoing inquiry, and you would be greatly helping your country if you assisted us, ma’am.”

  Wilbur noticed Ben nod at Violet, clearly impressed. He covered his own smile with his hand.

  “Missy, I was born in the RAA before you were even a gleam in your father’s eye,” the woman said. “Only moved to this side of the great divide because of my late husband, the lazy bum. If Bucky and I could afford it, I’d be back home in a heartbeat.” She shook a finger at Violet. “That fellow in there was a shiftless drunk, and if he’s left for good, it’ll only brighten this sad old place that much with his absence.”

  “Ma’am, if—”

  “Arrest me,” the woman barked. Bucky added a short editorial bark of his own to his mistress’s voice. “I don’t care. He was wandering around outside and some skinny fellow was following him. That’s all I saw.” She squeezed Bucky. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air.” She harrumphed her way past Violet and down the stairs.

  “Hoo-kay,” Ben said, clasping his hands together. “So, Mister Wright, crazy apparently runs rampant in this building.”

  “This entire century, it seems,” Wilbur said. He turned to Violet. “What were you about to advise when we were all so rudely interrupted?”

  “Just that maybe we should find Claudio—young Claudio—and get him to our present. We can either still pursue the gun angle or not,” Violet said, “but at least we’d have pulled him out of his own time before he started his political career.” She pointed in the direction the woman exited. “I think the ‘skinny fellow’ she mentioned was probably Claudio from this time, and I’d bet money on something bad happening to Wheaton.”

  “So we should stop him before it does,” Wilbur said. “Find him at an earlier stage of his life?”

  “It’ll have a huge ripple effect, even that,” Ben said. He climbed down the stairs, and Violet and Wilbur followed. “For better or worse. We should still be cautious.”

  “I think perhaps too much caution got your friend Mister Cob in a dire spot,” Wilbur said. “I don’t often recommend such a thing, but sometimes a bit of recklessness is warranted.” He thought of sailing across the skies, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  Without recklessness, Orville and I would have been failures. With too much caution, I might not be with Alison.

  “Yes,” Wilbur continued, closing the door of the apartment building as the group convened on the sidewalk, “recklessness. Just a bit.” He held out his hand to Ben. “What do you say, Mister Jonson?”

  Ben glanced from Wilbur to Violet and back again. He took a deep breath before clasping Wilbur’s hand and shaking it firmly.

  “Just a bit,” said Ben.

  Wilbur laughed and released Ben’s hand. “That’s the spirit.” He tried to ignore how clammy Ben’s hand had been.

  Nerves, that’s all. Perfectly normal to be this nervous.

  Perfectly normal.

  ~

  “All of you want to go?” Vere took off
his reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Benoy, this seems excessive.”

  “This is our one shot,” Ben said. “I don’t want to keep time traveling until we know how it might affect more of us physically. And if Violet, Wilbur, and I all go, we have a better chance of making this attempt count.”

  “I’m hesitant to try even this time, given the fate of the only recently departed Mister Cob.” Vere glanced at Violet, whose cheeks colored pink. She wandered away from the others, pretending to study a paperweight on Vere’s desk. “We don’t want another tragedy, do we?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to avoid,” Ben said. He, too, looked toward Violet.

  Oh, son, don’t put her through it again.

  “And you?” Vere took a step toward Wilbur. “Why do you want to go? We can’t afford to lose you as well.”

  “Something terrible happened to that fellow you sent me after,” Wilbur said. “If it was because of this tyrant, I have to help.”

  Vere threw up his hands. “Fine.”

  “Hey, you fought them, back in the war, right?” Violet asked. “Ben told me. Before you went to college, you were in the war. You saw what his people are capable of. You were around for the splitting of the country.”

  Vere nodded.

  “And Cob saw him murder people,” Ben said. “Look, I know I wasn’t on board with this before, but he has to be stopped, one way or another. You have to send us all back so we can take care of it once and for all.”

  “By bringing him back here.” Vere set up his equipment, despite his misgivings. “I hate that part of the plan, you know.”

  “We just need time to figure out how to deal with him,” Ben said.

  “For the record, I hate that part, too,” Violet said, “but it’s a little better than endangering my folks any further.”

  “Do you remember this?” Vere asked Wilbur as he cranked a dial on his control panel. “This, right here?” He pointed to a particular button.

  “Of course,” Wilbur said, joining him at the panel. “For me, it’s only been a few months.”

  “I can’t adequately prepare you for yet another time, Wilbur.” Vere finished his preparations. “Are you all right with the uncertainty?”

  “My whole life has been based on it,” Wilbur replied. “What’s a bit more?”

  Monday, January 20, 2053, Reynard College, St. Louis, Missouri, USA

  “You look the youngest.”

  “I…oh, good grief.” Violet rolled her eyes and grabbed the black gown hanging on the hook in the vestibule. “Man, I am so glad Empiricist colleges didn’t make you wear these stupid things all the time.” She pulled the satiny material over her head and down, covering her sweater. “This is going to be uncomfortable with a capital ‘un.’”

  “We’ll have to pretend to be professors,” Wilbur told Ben.

  Ben’s smile faltered, the edges of his mouth pinching. “Sure. Sure. Fine.” He muttered something under his breath.

  “Hmm?” Violet pulled her hair out from under the collar of the gown. “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” Ben said. He exhaled and smiled again, this time more genuinely. “You look very—”

  “Student?” A young man wandered by, a stack of flyers in his hand. “Are you an incoming first-year?”

  “Um, yeah,” Violet said. She drew her ears back, tensing her forehead and willing any telltale early-thirties wrinkles to smooth themselves out. “Yeah, hi, I’m, uh, Veronica.” She held out her right hand. “Veronica Dare.”

  The young man blinked. “Whoa, like…like that’s…” He thrust a flyer into Violet’s hand instead of shaking it. “Some coincidence, Miss Dare. Some coincidence indeed. You have to come tonight.” He stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. For the first time Violet noticed the strange, feverish light behind the young man’s eyes, the extreme shortness of his hair, and the ominous curl of the tattoo snaking out from beneath the collar of his student robe. “My name’s Davis. We’re hosting the first talk of a very important new club tonight. If you’re anything like your name suggests, I think you’ll find it very enlightening.” He grinned and squeezed her shoulder. “Promise me you’ll come.”

  Violet glanced at the flyer. “Reynard Purification Society,” it read, followed by a time and location. Beneath that, the words “DARE TO BE DIFFERENT” in all-caps. “DARE TO RESIST.”

  She felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach.

  Davis canted his head to one side and smiled. “Do you know where your family’s from, Veronica?”

  “I’m not—maybe New Ham—”

  “Europe,” Davis cut in. “Just like me.” He swept his hand in the air, indicating the hallway. “And just like him, and her, and—” His eyes fell upon Ben. “Well, not him, of course, but they were colonized by us, eh?” He laughed.

  Violet looked at Ben, her heart racing.

  God, I’m so sorry, please know how sorry I am. You shouldn’t have to hear that.

  “I guess,” Violet said. “This is pretty interesting. Who’s running the meeting?”

  “Not sure,” Davis said. “There’s a bunch of us. Some new guy wanted to speak. Didn’t catch his name.”

  Claudio Florence. That name won’t stay a secret for too much longer.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” Violet said. She tried to shrug off Davis’s hand without appearing rude. “I’m sorry, I have to go to class,” she said, pointing up the hallway.

  “Right. See ya, Miss Dare of the most-honored Dare family.” Davis gave her a little salute and jogged down the opposite side of the hall, pressing more flyers into more hands.

  Spread that hate, buddy. What happened to you, after all this? Did you die defending this madman’s ideas?

  Violet returned to Wilbur and Ben. “So I guess I’m going to a white supremacist meeting?” she whimpered. “Jesus, I’m sorry,” she said to Ben.

  Ben shook his head. “It’s all right.” He looked away. “I can’t even remember the last time I was in an RAA state, even if it hasn’t started yet. It’s weird to hear that stuff, that’s all.”

  She wanted to turn his face toward her, but she resisted. “We have a lot to do before we get there.”

  “Before you guys get there,” Ben said. He gave a bitter chuckle. “I think I’d stand out a little, as your new friend made abundantly clear.” He nodded to Wilbur. “You go. The both of you. God knows I’m no good in a fight anyway.”

  Help him be brave.

  Violet pictured Cob’s letter, pictured his poor ravaged body coughing up blood in a forest centuries long gone.

  I’m not brave, Violet, I’m stupid.

  Cob’s hand slipping from hers, the skin soaked with sweat…

  Show him the difference.

  “Listen, Ben,” Violet said, a hitch in her voice, “I didn’t—”

  I didn’t bury Cob in a grave marked with mystery just so you could slink off with your tail between your legs, dammit.

  She cleared her throat and tried again. “I didn’t think you’d run when things got tough.” She looked at him, narrowed her eyes and stared him down. “I need you, Ben. I need your knowledge, and Wilbur and I both need backup, okay? So you are coming. Forget being out of place. Forget whatever weird little cover story we’ve concocted for all of five minutes, and just step the hell up.”

  Ben’s eyes widened, but he remained silent.

  “This is not some covert undercover thing, not for long,” Violet continued. “This is get in, get the package, and get out.”

  “The package?” Wilbur asked, holding up an index finger. “Is that—”

  “Claudio,” Ben said.

  “Right.” Wilbur lowered his finger. “Er, how does ‘package’ imply—”

  “It’s cop speak,” Violet said. “Look, don’t worry about it, is basically what I’m saying, right, guys? We’re going in, we’ll take him out of the room, and then we’ll get Eddy to retrieve us. One, two, three, easy as that.”

  “Not
so easy,” Ben said. “Nothing’s ever that easy. Cob learned that.”

  “We’re not Cob,” Violet said.

  I’m not brave, I’m stupid.

  “It’s good we’re not Cob.” Violet looked at Ben. “It’s good.” She paused, eyes scanning his face with its lean cheeks and bushy eyebrows. “It’s good that you’re you, Ben. It is.” She felt herself drifting, leaning, then pulling back. It wasn’t the time or place, not now.

  “Right, so that’s in an hour,” Wilbur said. “I’m a bit keen to look around and learn, if I may.” He nodded to Ben. “You care to join me? Were you born yet? Might be interesting.”

  “Sure,” Ben pulled his gaze from Violet. “Sure, but let’s meet back here well in time for the meeting.”

  “I need some air,” Violet said. She wandered outside.

  Thursday, September 2, 2100, Avon, Vermont, NBE

  Claudio pulled the cloak around his face. He paid the stamper driver and read the placard on the house—Jonson’s Exotic Travel, right where Jonson and Vere’s assistant led him. Claudio knew the weapon would be here. Wright got it from Wheaton, and Wright was working with Vere all along. All Claudio had to do was follow the girl back here.

  The building was dark, but it wouldn’t be completely unattended. Claudio had studied the place, both close and afar, and for housing a lot of secret technology, it was remarkable in its unremarkableness. Three stories, slatted wood painted a reddish shade, somewhere between salmon and puce. Gingerbread scrollwork hung down from the soffit above the front porch, and the sign designating it as a business instead of a private house was carved into a modest stone placard screwed into the front face between two downstairs windows, both of which were heavily curtained.

  If Claudio strolled right up to the front door and turned the key in the bell, what would happen? Would he be shot on sight? He grinned at the prospect.

  Let them try. Let them try to kill me. I’ve killed so many in such a short time.

  A strange thought occurred to him. All his time travel, all his murders and no consequence. His conquering of half the continent with barely a scratch during the entirety of the bloodiest conflict in the continent’s history.