Guardians of Time

by Zimbell House Publishing

  “Agreed, but it can’t be that simple. There’s something we’re missing, and as of yet, no one knows what it is. The fact that they’re alive gives us hope that one day their energies will return, and they’ll be able to rejoin us.”

  “What about the AI? What happened to the 633 of them?” Kay asked. Although only a few months older, he carried an air of maturity absent in his peers. That was possibly the reason he felt keen to offer something as worthwhile as the other two.

  “All returned, but have proven unable to tell us anything about their human counterparts. Their data retention went blank immediately. The human energies got into difficulties. For now, they remain by them monitoring for changes.” I wished I could provide a more upbeat message, but discussing the victims of an unfathomable and unsavory war did not have a flip side.

  “So now, a little more history. The Assignment of Correction is the executive arm of the League of Guardians first established in 3000 AD by the Universal Order to prevent the disruption of timelines by artificial or accidental anomalies. Novices will already have been made aware of our history, so I’m not going to bore you with how we reached this point today. The primary reason you’re all here is to learn how to time travel and survive.”

  “No offense intended, but we also know why we’re all here,” Blundell put in, a little too indelicately, his mop of fair hair long enough it almost covered his green eyes.

  All novices were super smart, laden with initiative, inventive, fit, and healthy. To expect them to simply accept whatever they were told would have been naïve. It would also have defeated the reason they had been selected out of thousands of applicants. They were needed to push the boundaries and test philosophies, policies, and strategies of the League of Guardians, and, by doing so, spark fresh ideas. However, they were also required to be disciplined.

  “Then shut up and listen when I’m in the flow. The leadership makes little known to the public about how the massive problems confronting us regarding universe expansion are handled, neither do they repeat our successes or failures. There are some very good reasons why, and not to simply avoid panic. Organized crime syndicates across the universe are always seeking to learn more about the strategies and techniques we adopt to counter their activities. They are our worst enemy.”

  “Do they understand what they’re doing to the universe?” Blundell asked. The idea that humans were more destructive than the Haze seemed at odds with their personal intention to increase universal wealth and power.

  “Yes, but they’re greedy. The Time-Pattern market is worth trillions in Rhodium to each humanoid world, and in the short-term, they’re happy to collect what it offers and ignore any long-term damage. Most think it won’t be in their lifetime, so why worry?”

  “You said that most think it won’t be in their lifetime. Does that mean it will?” Norse interrupted.

  “Our scientists predict that we have about fifty Earth years before the universe passes a point at which it won’t be able to sustain itself. We’re literally on the brink of extinction. What I’m about to tell you is for your ears only, and from this day forward, you’ll all be monitored to ensure it remains that way. This is too big for anyone to turn rogue. We must be able to rely on one another; otherwise, we might as well give up and wait for the universe to disappear. Your education about the Haze also needs to be mirrored regarding Organized Crime. We’ve been able to identify many OC leaders and how their networks operate across numerous planets. Learning about these individuals and their syndicates is vital. By the time you’re done, you’ll appreciate why the Haze are less of a concern than the criminals.”

  “Less!” Blundell blurted. “Sorry,” he said, my frown silencing him.

  “In the beginning, demand for time travel expeditions to better understand Earth’s history rose steadily from the thirty-second century. Once alternative timelines were recognized as possible, they created a new black market. Apparently, some like the idea of an alternate timeline in which they prove successful even if they can’t live them out in their original reality ... passing failed exams, attracting new partners, failed promotions ... the list goes on. Knowing a timeline in which they were living the high life gives them some kind of comfort. It never made sense to me, and it still doesn’t. Anyway, as more people joined the queue for a successful alternate TP, the criminals began to offer inventive ways of making it even more attractive. They presented incentives such as enemy or rival assassinations. The organized crime syndicates are a major obstacle, and the problem I mentioned earlier.”

  Training was almost over for the day. The faces of each novice remained full of enthusiasm.

  “Tomorrow, you receive the Time Guardians data storage cell. The next day, you’ll each be assigned an AI. They’ll become your life partner. That means they’ll help guide you and fight and die for you without question.”

  “When do we meet you again?” Norse asked.

  “The day after tomorrow. It’ll take twenty-four hours for the data cell to properly embed itself in your brain. You’ll sleep through most of tomorrow.”

  “Does it hurt?” Brown asked uncertainly.

  The others sniggered.

  “You’re such a wimp,” Blundell told her.

  “As a pinprick in your arm,” I said. “Now go.”

  DAY THREE

  EVERYONE ARRIVED ON time.

  “How’re you all feeling?” I asked.

  “It hurt,” Brown said, her youthful face screwed up as if reliving the moment the needle was inserted into her neck. “Then I fell asleep for a whole twelve hours.”

  No one sniggered. Blundell and Kay had slept half that time and suffered nausea and headaches. Norse was fine.

  “Today, we’re going to pick up where we left off with my mission to thwart the Haze. Their second victim was government consultant and prominent businessman, Sir John Havers CBE. I had arrived early. Havers was asleep in his bed alongside his wife. I waited silently in the corner of their bedroom. Tell me when you think the Haze arrives.”

  A stench of hydrogen sulfide attacked their nostrils immediately as the Haze entered. The novices sucked in their breath, holding it momentarily before releasing it again. Their creased expressions told me they knew the Haze had arrived. This time, however, I wasn’t about to be gentle with their senses. The stench wrapped over them like a sealed sack, growing stronger with every moment the alien moved toward its sleeping victim. As it hovered over the bed, the silhouettes of two humanoids suddenly appeared on the other side of the bed.

  “What the hell?” Norse blurted, taken by surprise. “Who’re they?”

  “Criminals. Same victim, different reason. They were sent to murder the victim by forcing him to commit suicide. Their intention was to prevent him from having a child out of wedlock. That child becomes responsible for setting up an international police unit instrumental for the inception of the League of Guardians. As I warned you, we have many enemies.”

  The hologram continued. The Haze moved away from the bed as the humans came around to confront it. The three of them faced each other feet apart and grew suddenly still. The room was silent. The victim and his wife slept on, undisturbed by the danger.

  “What are they doing?” Brown asked.

  “Joan, please pause. I was as shocked as they were, except I had the element of surprise on my side. I remained hidden and waited for an outcome. It didn’t take long before two more Haze appeared, joined forces, and encompassed one criminal after the other. Joan, resume recording.”

  Three Haze descended quickly on the nearest human, engulfing it within themselves. The luminosity of its energy darkened immediately. Clearly, it was struggling with whatever the Haze were doing. A twang sound like a taut thread snapping echoed loudly before the three Haze appeared to jump from the first to the second human. They engulfed and devoured its luminosity before another twang resonated, and its energy spiraled away like a rudderless craft.

  “Pause it there, please,” Norse said,
her dark eyes wide as they studied the trail taken by the spiraling human energy.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Not sure, but it seems that this energy is out of control,” she said, reaching toward it with a forefinger. “Could it be that the sound we heard was the energy thread snapping, and, without its connection to the human brain here in the present, the energy is incapable of controlling itself? Could explain why none of our brain-dead Sentinels have been able to return.”

  “Not sure she’s right,” Blundell interrupted. “I mean, we know the broken link somehow kills its human host, but it doesn’t follow that the brain-dead Sentinels suffered similarly. They’re still breathing.”

  Kay shook his head. “That’s ignoring the possibility that the Haze have some means of attacking humans in the present. Something’s happening after our energies overstay their twenty-four-hour limit. If the energies with weakened threads do lose control, it would explain why they’ve been unable to return and why their human hosts are still breathing.”

  “He’s right,” I said. “If the energies have no control where they move after the thread’s broken, any attempt to reconnect is going to be random. It could take forever. We had always believed that the energies of our Sentinels would retain control of their movements and that a Haze weapon was preventing them from reconnecting. The point of the break was where the threads from our present to our Sentinels in the past should remain; moving away from that point would be a disaster. If the energies are no longer in the vicinity, that would explain much.”

  “It’ll make recovering the Sentinels even harder,” Kay pointed out. “Hoping their energies find their threads is a needle in the haystack scenario.”

  He was correct. Oddly, however, it was a comfort to me knowing there was possibly an alternative at play instead of an enemy’s fiendish capability.

  “I knew this class was going to prove useful,” I told them.

  “Yeah, right,” Norse replied, unconvinced.

  “That was a good joint effort.” I grinned. “It leads me to the reason you were selected for this class.”

  Their expressions suddenly changed to become curious and uncertain, yet hopeful.

  “As you’re aware, you’ve been specially selected as potential members of a new unit about to be formed that I’ll be leading. After this point, we cannot afford anyone changing their minds about joining the Sentinels. There are risks relating to the membership of the team I’m putting together that may place you in personal danger. You can expect to be pushed beyond your own expectations. You will never be able to talk about any part of what you do, even to other Sentinels. You will be part of an elite unit, and the cost to be in it is high. So, if anyone has any doubts, voice them now. You will still go ahead and join the Sentinels ... just not my unit.”

  Silence. I waited a full minute for any of them to leave. None did.

  “Okay. I’ll take your silence to mean you still want to go ahead.” I waited another ten seconds. “As you’ve been made aware, it’s usual for novices to take ten years to reach graduation. However, our scientists have successfully created a means by which we can dramatically reduce that period of time.”

  “Are you telling us that we could graduate sooner?” Kay asked, almost unable to control his excitement.

  “There’s a but,” I added, the immediate silence that followed not unexpected. “It requires cell software previously tested by Stavo Boreax to be installed in your brains. Of course, it’s been modified. Once installed, it provides you everything you need to know as experienced by four of our very best Sentinels. Your telepathic and telekinetic powers will be unsurpassed. Your ability to assess, deliberate, and successfully react to situations will be incredibly quick, and your instincts and intuition will prove amazing. The big win for all of us is that you’ll have gained ten years’ worth of training in a dramatically reduced time compared to current training practices.”

  “What problems have you not yet mentioned?” Blundell asked with a wry grin.

  “The modified cell is untested. When installed, it shares with you experienced reasoning from a highly successful Sentinel. However, initially, it will be as if there are two of you sharing the same head. How you react, no one can tell. How long it takes you to adapt, no one can tell. Merging someone else’s training and experience into another person’s head has never been done before. You will be guinea pigs.”

  “What if we decide that we don’t want to go through with it now?” Blundell asked.

  “You remain with our unit as a support worker, caring for the 633 Sentinels we one day hope to bring back.”

  “How will we know what the other person is thinking?” Norse asked.

  “I’m told that your thoughts will double up. The human brain is still the best computer ever constructed, and theoretically, can easily cope with two thought processes operating at the same time.”

  “After we’ve had the cell installed, will it make us better than you, Major?” Blundell asked.

  “You’ll discover, Novice Blundell, that I’m someone who never asks his soldiers to do anything that I wouldn’t do myself. I’ll also be installed with a cell just so that I can keep you in check.” I smiled back at him. “The five of us will need to discuss any side effects we’re experiencing. Don’t hold back if you think something is wrong. If worst comes to the worst, we can always have the cell removed.”

  “Who are the Sentinels compatible with us?” Norse asked, although all were as curious.

  “Irrelevant, and you won’t know even from their experiences. Their identities have been removed. I promise you they’re the best. You’ll discover their warrior skill set useful in both the physical and metaphysical domains.”

  I did not yet wish Norse to learn that she and I were compatible, just in case it inhibited her in some way. If the cell was successful, it meant that our experiences and personal learning would never be lost as it was after the natural death of each human. The future of the human race would change forever as a consequence. Although the leadership would limit its distribution to Sentinels and themselves, to do otherwise would be foolhardy for fear of the criminal community gaining such power. With the passing of both telepathic and telekinetic skills, the new unit would prove incredibly powerful.

  “Will it hurt?” Brown asked.

  “A pinprick. After that, I’ve no idea. I wish I could offer you more.”

  Their expressions showed no sign of hesitation nor no deep-seated resistance against being used as guinea pigs. I considered each a hero.

  “I just wish your pinprick didn’t feel like a drainpipe,” she said with a smile.

  In some ways, I was both pleased and terrified by their acceptance to continue. I was pleased they had chosen to make the attempt, but terrified they would end up like Stavo Boreax.

  “Your AIs should be ready. Keep them with you when you receive the new cell. They need to be present if they’re to sync with your new personas.”

  “Will our personalities be unrecognizable to those who know us?” Norse asked with the kind of sudden realization tied to discovering something unexpected. None wanted to be someone else. They were happy being the people they were.

  “Not as far as we’re aware, but you’ll be more accomplished and definitely more polished. You’ll possess the knowledge of others, and for that reason, some change is inevitable concerning confidence, but you remain who you are. That’s as important to us as it is to you.”

  “Did Boreax suffer?” Brown asked.

  “Not as far as we can tell. His body died in sleep. It was quiet, instant, and as far as we can tell, painless.” I turned to Joan. “Show them Stavo Boreax just after his energy went to the past.”

  A holograph displayed Boreax in a pod, eyes closed. Moments later, the heart monitor behind him stopped indicating a heartbeat. Boreax’s expression did not change.

  “No physical change. He just died.”

  “Could that happen to us?” Brown asked.

>   “It could, but we’re hoping the changes made to the cell will prevent it. After the cell implant, we’ll put you through a program of trials. When we travel to the past, I’ll be with you. If we encounter any Haze, I’ll deal with them.”

  “I’m frightened,” Brown admitted, “but excited too. I want to do this.”

  “The cell implant will take place tomorrow. Afterward, you’ll need forty-eight hours of bed rest. Then you’ll take a trip to Earth, and we’ll meet five days from now.”

  No one asked further questions.

  “I look forward to seeing you in the flesh. Until then, may the Natural Order keep you safe.”

  DAY EIGHT

  MEETING THEM PHYSICALLY was a sobering experience. It made them more real and the threats they faced more dangerous, if possible. They looked smart in their metal-gray novice uniforms and proud to be wearing them. Their AIs accompanied them, each wearing a different appearance. None appeared the worse for wear after receiving the new cell, but then, none had been tested to discover whether it worked.

  “How’re you all feeling?” I asked.

  “We haven’t suffered any effects,” Norse answered. They had only spent a short time together, and already she was answering for all of them. She was a girl who enjoyed being in control.

  “Follow me. We’ll be testing you immediately.” I led the way to a large holographic suite specifically designed to test new recruits. White, sterile walls surrounded us with nothing else present.

  “Joan initiate test one. Your AIs will monitor your use of the new cell. Measuring usage will help us determine if the new software is operating properly with a new filter system to prevent overload. A successful usage measure would be one hundred percent. If you reach that straight out, it will be possible to use in combat situations both in our time and the past. However, do not be disappointed if the effects are not immediate. We understand it may take weeks, months, or even years, but not ten years.”

  My own cell supplied by a Time Guardian had shown a maximum of just fifty percent when tested overnight. I’d expected better and felt disappointed.