“We basically did,” the traveler admitted. “However, we put centuries of planning into that. We can't afford to do that every time. If we could, the universe wouldn't need heroes of our caliber, would it?”
“I suppose I see your point.”
“Good. Now, be quiet.”
“I haven't made a sound.”
“Well, then, stop thinking.”
“Can do!”
In mere minutes, they had managed to reach the door, which was locked using a thumb scanner. As Cleo was silently using a hand-held computer to pull up the DNA profiles of all the servants that currently worked at the manor, one of the security robots marched past, just feet from the party.
Morgan felt that a machine like that would certainly give any would-be thieves second thoughts about trying to break in – in spite of the fact that it was obviously the kind of place that was just loaded with precious swag. The droid looked much like a seven foot skeleton made of metal. It held an energy rifle in its hands, while a pistol hung from one hip, and a pair of restraints hung from the other. The young man felt extremely grateful for the stealth-belts that were currently keeping them hidden from its robotic view.
Unfortunately, they didn't have belts-of-silence to completely quell every noise they might make. This is why the metal monster was able to hear Morgan's sneeze quite clearly. He couldn't say why it had happened. He hadn't had a cold in months, he wasn't allergic to anything, and there didn't seem to be anything in the air. It was just one of those things. Sometimes you just sneeze and you don't know why. And, that's exactly what Morgan did.
Instantly, the robot jerked its head in the direction of the sound and stared silently through the young man with its cold mechanical eyes.
“Just stay calm,” Robert's voice said in Morgan's mind. “And, try not to breathe very loudly.”
A bright blue beam of light shot from a small device on one of the automated guard's shoulders, meticulously scanning the surrounding area. After close to half a minute, the robot switched off the light, turned its head, and continued its patrol.
“When you need to sneeze but shouldn't, Morgan,” Doc said, “put your finger under your nose.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Morgan thought. “I'll keep it in mind from now on.”
Just a few moments after this bit of excitement, Cleo printed out a transparent, rubbery thumbprint, using a specialized printer she had brought with her for the purpose. She stuck it to her own thumb, stuck her thumb to the scanner, and unlocked the door.
“Where did you get the thumbprint?” Morgan asked.
“I used the DNA profile of the butler to replicate his,” she explained.
“Brilliant,” he observed.
“Rather,” she agreed.
The entire band snuck into the house, through the kitchen, and up a nearby staircase. At the end of a long hall (which they reached after having avoided two servants and another security-bot), they found a massive oak door with a rather fancy brass doorknob. Robert pulled a cylinder from his pocket, which his companions couldn't see, and began spraying something through the keyhole.
“How long do you think we should give it, Doc?” the traveler asked.
“Ten minutes or so.”
After ten minutes of standing in the hallway, Robert quickly opened the door and led the band into the room beyond. The chamber was filled with a number of monitors, on which were displayed ever shifting views from the many cameras that filled the mansion. A large desk covered with controls was in the middle of the room, at which sat a sleeping security guard. Doc lifted him from his seat, placed him on the floor, and began scanning his head.
“Alright...” Robert said slowly, dropping into the guard's former seat and typing quickly on the keypad. “We now have complete control of the system. Vox, can you manage it?”
“In my sleep,” Vox assured him.
“Perfect,” the traveler replied. “I want Doc and Celeste to stay with you while the rest of us break into the vault. Morgan, ladies, shall we?”
The four companions left the room and made their way down the stairs and into another hall.
“Watch yourself, Rob,” Vox's voice warned. “There are two robo-guards by the elevator.”
“Can you move them?”
“I can, but I'm afraid it might attract attention. It looks like they're stationed there all the time.”
“Let me think for a sec,” Robert replied.
“Can you put them in diagnostic mode, Vox?” Azure asked.
“I can.”
“Do their sensors work during a diagnostic?” she asked.
“Great question,” Vox replied. “Yes, they do. However, their input isn't processed by the cortex. So, it should give you close to a thirty second window to get into the elevator without them noticing that the doors have opened.”
“That should be enough time,” the traveler said. “I'll let you know when we're in place.”
“What's the range on these headbands?” Morgan asked as they marched cautiously along.
“About a mile,” Robert replied, bringing the band to a halt at the far end of the hall containing the security droids. “We're ready, Vox.”
“And...” Vox replied. “Go.”
The four companions dashed down the hall and into the elevator before its doors were even completely opened. Robert pushed the button for the basement, the doors closed, and they were on their way.
“Are we up against any more droids, Vox?”
“Not a one, boss,” Vox assured him. “I guess they figured the odds of anyone making it this far were pretty slim.”
“They'd have been right to think so,” Robert agreed. “Not to mention the fact that, the only thing of interest down here is locked in a vault.”
“Too true.”
The elevator opened into a large room filled with miscellaneous furniture and works of art that were too large to be easily stolen and that weren't currently in use or on display. In the wall on the far side of this chamber was a massive vault door that led into the laboratory of James Morgan the first.
“So,” Cleo said as she was hooking a piece of equipment to the vault's access panel, “You couldn't get me the code for this door?”
“I wouldn't say couldn't,” Robert replied. “It would have just been a bit of a pain because James the fourth changes it every time he uses it. Not to mention the fact that you'll be able to crack it in no time. Plus, it gave me a good reason to bring you with me.”
“Would you have wanted to bring me with you, even if you didn't need me?”
“I'll never know,” he replied. “I always need you.”
“You're supposed to be working on not lying to me.”
“That's why I said that.”
“Liar,” she giggled, pushing the final button she needed to push. “That should do it.”
The door opened, revealing a chamber filled with computer equipment, tools used for micro-manufacturing, and a complete chemistry lab – along with other labby-type things. Near one of the walls, sat a smallish two-seater vehicle that looked something like a car without wheels.
“How does he get it out of this room?” Azure asked. “The door's not big enough.”
“He doesn't,” Robert pointed out. “It travels in time. Not in space.”
“That's weird,” Morgan asserted.
“A little,” the traveler admitted, switching off his stealth-field. “It's one of the few ever built that couldn't fly, actually. Either way, we need to get the unit put in place and get out of here. We can forgo the belts while we're in here. There aren't any cameras.”
“I'll have it hooked up in no time,” Azure assured him, turning off her own belt.
“You sure you can handle it?” the traveler asked.
“I am,” she nodded. “I did help build the unit, you know?”
“I do,” he nodded in reply. “Your progress is truly impressive.”
“So,” she said with a smile, “I've actually managed to impres
s, the last time traveler?”
“Many times,” he confessed. “But, don't let it go to your head.”
“Oh, I won't,” she replied, pulling one of the panels off the unwheeled-time-car. “I know your ego needs a lot of room to strut around in.”
“It does,” he agreed. “Be sure to let me know if you need my help.”
“I will,” she said.
“Be sure to let me know if you need my help, too,” Morgan added. “I mean; if, for some reason, you're suddenly overcome with any overwhelming physical desires...”
“I'll be sure to let you know,” she interrupted.
“You will?!” he exclaimed. “Hot dog!”
“Wow...” Robert said, turning his gaze to the young man. “You've made amazing progress over the last couple of days.”
“Well,” Cleo said with a smile, “keep in mind, that, until a few days ago, we hadn't seen either of you for months.”
“I suppose that's true,” Morgan replied. “Which, when you think about it, is a really good reason to turn the program back on. I mean...”
“Shut up, Morgan,” all three of his companions replied.
Less than an hour later, their task was complete and the four companions were on their invisible way out of the manor house. They made their way back up the elevator, Vox used another diagnostic mode to get them out undetected, they deposited the unconscious security guard back in his seat – complete with modified memories – and headed back out the servants' entrance. Minutes later, they were back in the car and, minutes after that, safely back on-board the ship.
“Alright, I admit it,” Vox said, climbing from the back seat. “You were right, Rob. That was a piece of cake.”
“It was also a lot of fun!” Celeste added, smiling at her husband. “No wonder you loved doing this so much.”
“You weren't worried about the danger?” he asked.
“Well, I had many, many years to think about it after I found out who Rob really was,” she explained, “and it seems to me that, as he's thousands of years old, he must be pretty good at not getting himself killed.”
“You're right about that, Mama. I mean, Sis,” Robert chuckled. “I never get killed. Although, I'm not actually thousands of years old.”
“How old are you, then?” she asked.
“Old,” he laughed, glancing back over his shoulder at her as he headed out of the bay.
As soon as he reached the bridge, he pressed the required buttons to send them flying back to Never Never Land. As they still had a couple of hours before they needed to call it a night, they decided to go bowling – on that two-lane alley on the ship (You remember the one I mean? If you don't, go read the book before this one). Robert managed to lose to every one of the crew, including Celeste, who had never bowled before. He assured them, as he stared at the scoreboard in disbelief, that Celeste had to be a natural. Honestly, he could have been right. She also managed to beat Doc and Azure, and neither of them is bad at bowling. Not to mention that she picked up a seven-ten split the first time she ever tried. I mean; Vox told her how to do it but, come on, nobody does that... Either way, Robert took it like a sport.
After the bowling, they all went to bed. Most of them fell asleep almost instantly. Doc didn't because he wanted to start that book. Neither did Vox and Celeste but, that had nothing to do with reading... Early the next... morning, I suppose... the crew gathered on the bridge once again and Robert asked Cleo to fire up the backup power unit.
“Cleo, fire up the backup power unit,” he said predictably.
“Yes, sir,” she replied with a smile, matching her actions to her words.
“Did that net us any time?” he asked.
“None...” she said, shaking her head. “In fact, James Morgan the first still died in that insane asylum.”
“What?!” the traveler exclaimed. “Why?!”
“James Morgan the fourth,” she replied, “ran the machine out of fuel again, without going back for his great-grandfather.”
“That cannot be right. There was enough fuel in that unit for him to make a hundred more trips.”
“And he did,” Cleo explained. “He became the richest man to ever live on that world.”
“What a jerk!” Robert exclaimed.
“I tried to tell you,” Vox chuckled. “Some kids are just like that, man.”
“What do we do now?” Morgan asked.
“We meet in the conference room in about an hour,” the traveler said. “By then, I should have a new plan.”
“I hope it's better than your last one.”
“It will be.”
Chapter 3: Take Two
“Alright,” Robert said, pulling Cleo's chair out for her as the crew made its way into the conference room. “I've worked out a more direct, if more aggravating and time consuming, plan.”
“What is it?” Morgan asked, offering Azure the same chair-pulling service.
“First,” the traveler replied, “we're going to go back to about fifteen minutes after we were there last time. Since we just left, we know basically where everyone is, including James the fourth. With any luck, the guard will still be asleep.”
“If we time it right,” Doc said, “he will be.”
“Morgan and I will make our way straight for James' bedroom,” Robert continued. “While we're doing that, Cleo and Azure will need to install a remote control on the time-machine so we can send it when we want from wherever we are. You three will head for the security office and make sure the guard doesn't wake up, as well as making sure the rest of us don't run into anything unexpected. Morgan and I will scan the fourth’s brain and grab a blood cell from him. That done, we'll meet up with the girls. As soon as they're finished, we'll head back to the ship.”
“That doesn't sound so bad,” Morgan interjected.
“So far, it isn't,” the traveler agreed. “Except, of course, for the twelve hours wasted trip-time. Plus, we have to take the time to grow a James the fourth clone. That done, we'll take the clone back in time to just minutes after James the fourth left for the past and drop him off.”
“Why do we need to do that?” Celeste asked. “Couldn't we just send the machine back by itself?”
“We could,” Robert nodded, “but, granddaddy will be asleep upstairs when it gets there. We need someone to go tell him that the machine is there and that he needs to use it to get home.”
“What if he won't listen?” Azure asked.
“The clone will subdue him, carry him to the machine, and send him back to his own time.”
“That seems a little risky,” Celeste pointed out.
“Maybe a little,” Robert replied, rotating his hand back and forth, “but, I plan to program the clone with a rather convincing lie to persuade the first to head back home.”
“That'll work,” Morgan asserted.
“But, how do we keep from creating a paradox?” Celeste asked.
“What do you mean?” Robert counter-asked with a wide smile.
“Well,” she replied, “if we drop the clone off to go wake granddaddy up, then he will.”
“I hope so,” the traveler interjected.
“Meaning that James will head back to his own time,” she continued.
“Again, such is our hope.”
“If he does that, we won't need to drop the clone off because, he'll have gotten back to his own time.”
“You're absolutely right!” Robert nodded. “If we send the first back home while we're out of Never Never Land, he'll have always gone back, so we won't need to send him back, so he won't go back, so we'll have to send him back.”
“You're as good at run-on-sentence explanations as I am,” Morgan observed.
“Thank you!”
“So, how do we get around that?” Azure asked.
“More aggravation,” Robert replied. “We have to send the clone out in a small, cloaked ship with instructions to fly into the nearest star – which is relatively close, being at the center of the sys
tem – if he doesn't hear from us in fifteen minutes. Then, when we have everything else ready, we fly back to Never Never Land, send the signal to send back the time machine, along with the message for the clone to go wake up granddad. The machine arrives, the clone does his job, and the first heads back to his own time. This won't create a paradox because the clone will be doing what it's doing based on our orders, not on what happened in the primary time-line. As we'll be in a separate time-line, our orders will be based on what we know would have happened, not on what actually did happen.”
“I'll take your word for it,” Celeste said, shaking her head.
“It'll work, baby,” Vox assured her. “We do stuff like this all the time.”
“What happens to the clone once it's done?” Morgan asked. “Leaving a copy of a guy around seems like a bad idea.”
“It is,” Robert agreed. “As soon as his task is complete, the clone will get back in his ship and fly into the aforementioned star.”
“That takes care of that, I guess.”
“Once the time-lines settle,” the traveler continued, “we'll fire off a pre-recorded message, warning James senior not to go back to see his great-grandson. Which, if he had a modicum of sense, he'd have never done in the first place.”
“I don't see how you can say that, Rob,” Celeste replied. “What's the point of building a time-machine if you don't plan to travel in time?”
“Traveling in time is always a bad idea.”
“Are you serious?”
“I mean, for anyone else,” he explained.
“Even so,” she said, shaking her head, “he didn't do anything that thousands of other time travelers haven't done.”
“Yes, he did,” Robert disagreed. “He went forward in time to see his own offspring. That's way too much like crossing your own time line.”
“Well, that aspect of it didn't hurt anything,” she pointed out. “I mean; what if Vox had stolen your time machine and never come back to get you. Would the results have been any different?”
“A little,” he nodded, “Far worse, probably. Either way, it was very irresponsible of him.”
“You've gone back in time to get donuts, Robert,” Doc pointed out with a smile. “I imagine that getting to see your great-grandchildren as adults would be a much more powerful motivator for risking the time-lines than picking up a few boxes of deep-fried bread.”
Bad Behavior (The Last Time Traveler Book 3) Page 4
