by John Barnes
Ariadne Lao began again. “It seems to be clear that our new allies will contact us through timelines which are derived from the ones in which Porter Brunreich becomes a figure of major importance. I therefore must apologize for assigning you to your own time, but it’s become abundantly clear why they are targeting Porter Brunreich—the timelines that are our bridge to our new allies all spring from her.”
“And let me underline and highlight that,” Malecela added. “She must not only survive, but she must survive as the sort of person whose legacy will include trust rather than suspicion.
“Therefore—and I know it’s not as interesting or exciting an assignment as it could be, but it’s certainly the most vital—both of you are assigned at once to return to your own timeline and organize around-the-clock in-depth protection for Porter Brunreich.”
“She’s had that since she was thirteen,” I pointed out, “but we can step that up several levels. And don’t worry, it’s the job we’d rather be doing. How soon can we leave?”
“We thought you might like a decent meal and a night’s rest,” Malecela said, “but you can go right after breakfast tomorrow if you like. We’ve sent one of our on-the-spot fronts to get your things from your hotel and get them shipped over to Europe; we can have you meet her in Weimar, just before her concert there. We’ve arranged, via your bodyguard agency, for her to get to Weimar by helicopter—you’ll go by ground transport, but you’ll get there a bit before her.”
“Good,” Chrys said, and since there wasn’t anything more to add, we both got up to go.
But Citizen-senator Thebenides still had something to add. “And do your best to recall that not only are the Porter Brunreich timelines vital to our defense and to our contact with, er, the other new timelines, but since so often the culture of a given timeline is simply one person’s prejudices writ large, I would hope that when you talk to Citizen Brunreich you will keep in mind the values of ATN and of Attika generally, and—”
“We usually suggest that she ought to do what’s right,” I said, without much trace of patience.
We were all the way back to the room, and beginning to mess around where we had left off, when Chrysamen whispered into my ear, “Okay, I see your point about Thebenides. Still, it’s obvious that Ariadne Lao, and for that matter General Malecela, despise the man. I don’t know how much harm he can do in the circumstances.”
“Ever hear of civilian control of the military? He’s the boss.”
“He’s one of a lot of bosses, Mark. Not necessarily the most important one, either. I agree, if he were really in charge, I’d be worried silly. He’s slippery and greasy, and that’s his most attractive feature. But right now we have a lot more to worry about.”
“Funny,” I said, “but it’s easier to worry about Thebenides, who is merely an asshole, than about Porter and the future of all those timelines.”
“I wasn’t going to worry about Porter either. We’ll be there to meet her plane, and if the Closers can’t get a bomb to a Crux Op meeting, when they know the location and time, and when it would only be across time—they aren’t going to get anything that can shoot down an airplane all the way back to a couple of critical hours in the twentieth century. We’ve got other things to worry about.” She kissed me, then, very firmly.
“Such as what?” I knew she was right—Thebenides was minor, Porter was important but not anything we could do anything about—but now I didn’t know what she thought we should be worrying about.
“Such as that a few weeks ago Perry wanted to know why he was an only child and suggested we get working on it.” Now she slipped her arms around me and pressed her body to mine.
“Should’ve named that kid Aristotle,” I muttered. “His major interest seems to be biology.”
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About the Author
John Barnes has lived in Denver for many years. Off and on, he has made his living as a writer, teacher, designer, performer, and statistician, in show business, politics, academia, marketing research, software, and publishing, and amused himself with cooking, martial arts, and ballroom dance. He says it all overlaps if you look at it right.
Barnes has authored more than thirty novels and numerous short stories including the national bestseller Encounter with Tiber (cowritten with Buzz Aldrin), Mother of Storms (finalist for both the Hugo and Nebula awards), and Tales of the Madman Underground (a Michael L. Printz Honor Book), among others. He received his doctorate of philosophy in theater arts at the University of Pittsburgh, and has taught college courses in a wide variety of disciplines. His personal blog is at thatjohnbarnes.blogspot.com.
Diane Talbot
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1997 by John Barnes
Cover design by Neil Alexander Heacox
ISBN: 978-1-4976-2593-8
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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THE TIMELINE WARS
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