by Rachel Ford
“We have lost men and women before,” Katarina added. “We were usually able to undo the damage and save them, but it’s a harrowing experience.”
“And we are also able to ensure that you are the right candidates for this job,” Ki’el continued. “Just because someone understands the complexity of interdimensional and temporal travel does not mean that they are well suited to the agency.”
“We all remember the Ingleban incident,” Director Reynard said, eliciting a shiver from everyone present but Alfred and Nancy.
“The what?” the taxman asked.
“Ingleban incident,” Ki’el repeated. “It was in the simulator – thank goodness – and not in a real scenario.”
“What happened?” Nancy prompted.
“We don’t really talk about it,” Winthrop answered, shuffling his feet.
“But for you, we will,” the cephalopod decided. “There was a candidate, Max Ingleban. He followed much the same route as you, until he got to the academy. He stole the crystal, rather than destroyed it. And then he returned to Atupal – and killed Trajan.”
The taxman shrugged. He personally wasn’t comfortable with killing him, but surely it wasn’t that big of a deal. “I mean, he is kind of a genocidal tyrant.”
“Yes. But Max declared himself ruler of Atupal. And ordered the science and royal academies to work together to develop a means to bar time travelers from entering their world.”
“He was a worse tyrant, in the last two and a half weeks of his simulation, than Trajan was ever programmed to be.”
Winthrop shivered. “So many razed cities.”
“And the executions,” Reynard nodded grimly.
“We let it play out, out of sheer fascination,” Ki’el explained. “We let him think they developed a shield against temporal and interdimensional incursions.”
“You can imagine how surprised he was when the whole thing ended,” Winthrop added.
“I assume he did not make the cut, then?” Nancy asked, warily.
“Great Scot, no. We relieved him of his time traveling apparatus and returned him to his own time. Posthaste.”
“There were ethical ramifications,” the cephalopod sighed. “To letting the subject – that is, the applicant – behave in a morally compromising fashion for so long, uninterrupted. The ethics commission felt our committee required more oversight.”
“Protocols were written,” Winthrop added, nodding grimly.
“So many protocols,” Director Reynard agreed.
“Nowadays, we would end the simulation after confirmation of the applicants’ actions. And perhaps it’s for the best. It was a dark thing to behold.”
“Which is why we don’t talk about it much,” Agent Winthrop explained. “But you, on the other hand – yours is a story we will happily tell.”
“Indeed. You are the first to be thrown overboard the Red Eel, you know.”
The Englishman grinned at that. “I’ve never seen Dagson react like that.”
Alfred scowled. “You could have told us it was a floating island we were looking for.”
“Oh, no. What if you were a student of the classics? That might give the game away. What if you figured out that Atupal is Laputa reversed, and that Inbalibrab is an anagram of Balnibarbi?”
“I assume those are places in Gulliver’s Travels?” Nance wondered.
This earned her a frown from Winthrop. “Yes, Agent Abbot. Really, Alfred I understand: his specialty, his obsession, is tax law. But you? You seem like such a well-rounded person. How can you be so woefully ignorant of literature? The system failed you, Nancy.”
Ki’el cleared his throat. At least, it sounded like a throat clearing. The truth was, the taxman wasn’t entirely sure the cephalopod had a throat. “We can discuss the failings of the education system from your timeline another time, Winthrop. The point is, you not only passed, you did so in highly entertaining fashion.”
“Well, I’m glad our drowning was so amusing,” Alfred sniffed.
“It wasn’t just the drowning,” Reynard assured him.
“Oh no,” the Englishman put in, seeming to abandon his tangent. “You learned all the right lessons precisely where you were supposed to.”
“Lessons?” Alfred frowned again. “What lessons?”
“Well, Dagson taught you the danger of assuming. You said island, he said island, and you assumed it was Atupal. Without ever asking.
“Trajan and the Atupalans taught you the danger of underestimating people. As soon as they started purging auras, you both assumed you were dealing with silly fools.” Winthrop shook his head. “And how easy was it for Trajan to pull the wool over your eyes then, eh?
“And the people of Inbalibrab, they taught you not to prejudge. You were met with rudeness, and let that color your perceptions of them. So when Trajan told you they were the aggressors, you accepted it uncritically.”
Winthrop spread his hands, seeming very pleased with himself. “I know my esteemed colleagues might not see the literary merits of the simulation, but its value as both a training exercise and an entry exam are…well, I don’t think I overstep the constraints of decency, though I do speak of my own work, in saying: invaluable.”
Since the special agent could not literally throw his shoulder out patting himself on the back so vigorously, Alfred felt it necessary to rain a little on his self-indulgent parade. “Actually, all you taught us is not to trust you: that you – all of you – are liars.”
This did not have the desired effect, though. Winthrop clapped his hands, and nodded. “Good. Very good. I forgot about that one. Trust no one. An invaluable lesson.”
“You entered the simulation believing everything we told you,” Ki’el said. “You didn’t question any of it.”
“Nancy was a bit more perceptive,” the Englishman allowed. “But you, Alfred…well, this was no Gulliver’s Travels. This was more Gullible’s Travels.” A few snorts of amusement sounded around them, and the taxman frowned. “Forgive me. That was tactless. Humor at the expense of others is frowned upon.
“My point is, even when things made no sense, you didn’t question. Your respect for authority left you unable to challenge where you should have. Hopefully, this experience has nurtured your inner skeptic.”
“About this organization? It certainly has,” Nancy offered dryly.
Winthrop, though, beamed. “Good. Then Mister Swift’s legacy lives on. That was the point, you know, of Gulliver’s Travels.”
A resounding, collective groan rose from the bureau personnel. “Please don’t get him started on that,” Ki’el implored. “You should have heard him, when we made him cut the Houyhnhnms from his simulation.”
“The what?”
The Englishman bristled, and the cephalopod explained, “The talking horse people.”
Alfred felt an eyebrow creep up his forehead. “Floating islands? Talking horse people? Was this Swift character a lunatic?”
“He was a creative,” Winthrop snorted. “A writer.”
“Which is almost as bad,” Ki’el deadpanned. “But, no, not a lunatic, I think. Just a man who imagined himself a lot funnier than he was.”
“He was a genius. And the Houyhnhnms simulation was the best one.”
Director Reynard rolled her eyes. “It was traumatizing, is what it was.”
“Deeply disturbing,” Ki’el agreed.
“It was nothing of the kind,” Winthrop protested.
“The ethics commission did not agree,” the cephalopod observed, and was rewarded for the reminder with a scowl. “Be that as it may, I hope you will forgive our deceiving you, Nancy and Alfred. Our methods may seem heavy-handed, but I hope you can understand our reasoning at least. And you acquitted yourself with such aplomb – we would be grieved indeed to lose you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The truth was, Alfred’s mind was swimming a little. And not just because of talking horses and floating islands. Not because he learned there were two more se
ctions of the simulation, a land of giants and of little people. Not even because of Winthrop’s fascination with Gulliver’s Travels.
No, Alfred’s mind was a mass of confusion as he tried to come to terms with everything that had happened these last few days, and sort the truth from the falsehoods. There was no Atupal. There was no Inbalibrab. There was no Royal Academy that purged malevolent vapors, and no Science Academy that figured out how to manipulate crystals. There was no Irma, no Trajan, and no Katar.
And he and Nance had never been in danger of dying. It was all a test.
Intellectually, he understood the IBTI’s reasons for testing them. But he had stood there, before that fake crystal in that simulated world, thinking Nance, his beloved Nance, was going to die. He wasn’t sure he could ever forgive them for that.
She was more flexible on the point, though. “We should have caught on sooner, babe. And, I mean, we have to know: if we’re going to mess around with time and space, it could happen one of these days. It’s a risk we have to be willing to take.
“Do we give up the generator, and just go back to our jobs with the IRS? Or do we take the risk, and join the IBTI?”
“I don’t know, darling. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Hey.” She kissed him tenderly. “As long as I’m drawing breath, babe, you won’t. There are no guarantees, and I know this way there’s more risk. But I’d rather run the risk doing something important than play it safe forever. Wouldn’t you? Isn’t that why you joined the IRS in the first place?”
He wasn’t sure, and so, for a few days, he thought it over. The suite was theirs for as long as they wanted, the Englishman said. But the taxman didn’t need too long. The truth was, he and Nance had been in tight spots before. And though it rankled that they’d been lied to, they’d passed even Winthrop’s mad simulation.
And at his core, Alfred was a man of law and justice. Nance was a woman of law and justice. And this was the opportunity to do as much good as – or, if he was really honest with himself, more good than – they’d ever done before. It was the chance to protect galaxies, to preserve entire timelines, to bring order and sanity to universes imperiled by chaos and lawlessness.
So, on the third day, he told Nance, “I think I’d like to join, babe. If you’re still game.”
She smiled. “It’s the room service, isn’t it? Winthrop lured you in with a few days of breakfast in bed and no alarm clocks.”
Winthrop was ecstatic. And he told them so, some several times. “I really am delighted – ecstatic, even, Alfred. I’ve met quite a few recruits in my day, but not a pair like you. By Jove, I’m so thrilled. Ecstatic!”
The others on the council were a bit more measured in their enthusiasm, but their excitement was still palpable. “Very good. I look forward to working with you,” Director Reynard nodded. “On real cases.”
“Congratulations, Agents. It’s a pleasure,” Katarina agreed.
“You will be a most pleasant addition to our bureau,” Ki’el declared with a magisterial nod. “I am rather fond of your species, all things considered, and you seem to be a cut above the average human.”
The decision made, they were issued badges. Alfred thrilled a little to see ‘Agent Favero’ on that silver shield. “So when is our next mission?”
Winthrop grinned. “It’s all relative, isn’t it, Agent Favero? In our business, when is now, yesterday, and tomorrow.”
“Do you mean, you don’t have a mission for us?” Nancy asked.
“Not at the moment. But you can rest assured, we will. Oh – and, in the meantime…” Here, Winthrop produced the time generator. “It’s time to return this to its proper owners. You’ve proven yourself good stewards of time, Nancy and Alfred. The council has no compunction returning this to you.”
They remained one more day, getting to know their team a little better. Alfred learned Katarina’s last name: Smith. It wasn’t what he was expecting. But, then again, the taxman was learning not to rely on expectations too much.
They met a few more agents, too, and Nancy spent a long time learning about the technology of the future. Alfred chose not to, though. He didn’t want to know what was coming. He’d rather be surprised by it.
Anyway, there was something more pressing on his mind. It had been overshadowed by the revelations of the past few days, but as he acclimated to them, his mind returned to prior matters.
So he’d urged Nance that they needed to return home, to their own time and world. She agreed, and Winthrop, gifting them a copy of Gulliver’s Travels, bid them farewell. “Read the book. I know you’ll love it. And I will be in touch, sooner or later. When the time is right.”
The other man’s chuckling ringing in his ears, Alfred flipped the switch, returning them to their own time.
They returned to the same night they’d left, a few minutes after Winthrop appeared. “Well,” Nance said, blinking into the home office. “It seems like an eternity ago that we were here. What was I even doing?”
“Setting up your laptop, I think,” he answered. “But darling?”
“Yes?”
“There’s something I need to ask you.” They had a bright, fascinating, frightening future ahead of them. He could only imagine the wonders and mysteries that awaited. But right now, there was something far more important, here in the present.
“Oh?” Her eyes twinkled. “And what’s that, Mister Favero?”
“Something I was going to ask you before we left. Something…something I’ve been meaning to ask for a while now.” He felt his palms slick and his heart race. He’d asked this question already, but she’d been about to die when she answered. Her response might be quite different, when the world was not ending around them.
But he’d never know without asking. Fumbling for the ring he still carried in his pocket, Alfred dropped to one knee. “Will you marry me, Nancy Abbot?”
Her blue eyes twinkled a little more brightly, and she took his hand in hers. “I was wondering if you were going to ask that again,” she said. Kneeling beside him so that they were face-to-face, she kissed him on the lips. “I wasn’t sure if that first time counted or not, considering the circumstances.”
He smiled, his heart still racing. The kissing and closeness were all very good signs. But he needed to hear her answer to be sure. “Well, Nance? Will you?”
“My answer, Mister Favero,” she said, pausing to kiss him again, “remains unchanged: yes. Of course.”
It was, perhaps, not the most dignified response, but Alfred let loose a nervous, relieved laugh. She giggled too, kissing him again. And for a long moment, they stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms. Then, though, he remembered the ring. “Oh. Your engagement ring.”
He drew back to put it on her finger, and Nance smiled. Her cheeks were flushed with happiness, and her eyes sparkled with love.
And, staring at the vision of loveliness before him, the taxman nearly forgot what he was doing. He nearly forgot to breathe. “God, I love you, Nancy.”
“I love you too, Alfred.”
Slipping the ring in place, he wrapped her in his arms. “Mrs. Favero,” he said, allowing himself to speak the words out loud for the first time. “I love the sound of that.”
“Agent Favero,” she reminded him.
He grinned. “I like the sound of that, too.”
Pecking him on the lips, she said, “Me too, darling. Me too.”
Thank you for reading!
Thank you for reading the Time Travelling Taxman, books 1 – 6. I hope you enjoyed them. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought – and check out the rest of the series here!
About the Author
Rachel Ford is a software engineer by day, and a writer most of the rest of the time. She is a Trekkie, a video-gamer, and a dog parent, owned by a Great Pyrenees named Elim Garak and a mutt of many kinds named Fox (for the inspired reason that he looks like a fox).
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More from the Author
Crimson Yuletide (holiday cozy/horror)
Black Flag series (space opera sci-fi):
Book 1: Black Flag
Book 2: Lee Shores
Book 3: Troubled Waters
Book 4: No Quarter releases Spring 2020
The Time Travelling Taxman series (humorous time travel):
Book 1: T-Rexes & Tax Law (ebook, paperback and audiobook)
Book 2: UFOs & Unpaid Taxes (ebook & paperback, and audiobook)
Book 3: MarvelousCon & Tax Cons (ebook & paperback, audiobook)
Book 4: Time Slips & Tax Thieves (ebook & paperback, audiobook)
Book 5: Mob Bosses & Tax Losses … audiobook coming soon!
Book 6: Gullibe’s Travels & Taxing Rabble
Book 7: Underwater & Overtaxed
Book 8: Contacts & Tax Cons releases Spring 2020
The Tribari Freedom Chronicles series (dystopian sci-fi):
Book 1: Catalyst (novelette – ebook and audiobook)
Book 2: Uprising (novel – ebook, paperback and audiobook)
Book 3: Liberation (novel – ebook, paperback and audiobook)
Book 4: Absolution (novel – ebook, paperback and audiobook)
Other works available now:
An End in Ice (fantasy / horror novella – ebook & audiobook)
Prison Break (sci-fi space opera novelette, ebook & audiobook)
Flesh Eaters (military sci-fi novella – ebook & audiobook)
