Bad Behavior (The Last Time Traveler Book 3)

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  But, why wouldn't Sturm have taken him as well? Of course, Sturm had told Morgan more than once that there was no personal beef between the two of them. So, he probably wanted to leave him out of it. But, why couldn't he remember? Sturm had probably used some kind of knockout-amnesia gas to take them all out. After all, there was no way a man of his age could defeat six basically-ninjas, and Celeste, in a fair fight. This made Morgan wonder if Celeste was a ninja, too. He would have to ask her after he'd rescued her.

  “Sturm!” Morgan cried silently, shaking his fist in the air.

  This essential act taken care of, the young man dashed toward the armory as quietly as he could. He was more than aware that Sturm was capable of anything and that, at any moment, he might run into some super-war-robot or the clone of Chuck Norris or something. Due to his extreme caution and his newly-programmed ninja skills, he managed to reach the armory unopposed. Sturm wasn't going to know what hit him.

  In a flash, the young man slipped on a suit of black cloth armor, before wrapping two gun belts around his waist. One holster held a tranq-gun, the other an energy pistol. This done, he put on a personal-shield and a stealth-belt. He then grabbed up a chain-fed machine gun and a long belt of ammunition, before vanishing from sight and heading for the front of the ship.

  His heart began pounding in his ears as he heard hushed voices coming from the bridge. Morgan didn't hesitate. He couldn't. If he were lucky, he might be able to capture Sturm himself and end this crisis without anyone getting hurt.

  “Don't move a muscle,” the young man shouted, charging invisibly onto the bridge.

  “What are you talking about, Morgan?” Robert chuckled. “And why are you cloaked?”

  “Where's Sturm?” Morgan asked, switching off his stealth-belt and gazing at Robert with a confused look on his face.

  “Probably getting breakfast by this time,” the traveler smiled. “Why?”

  “So, he hasn't captured the ship?”

  “Not yet,” Doc smiled.

  “It's not Sturm,” Robert asserted. “Anyway, what are you doing?”

  Morgan explained what he was doing.

  “We don't remember what happened, either,” Doc pointed out. “But, we don't seem to be in any danger at the moment.”

  “Plus,” Robert added, “I woke up sitting on the edge of my bed with a brain-scanner in my hand. So, I think there's a good chance I deleted my own memories.”

  “Well, what do we do next?” Morgan asked.

  “Gather everyone in the conference room,” Robert replied with a nod. “After we've put all that back in the armory.”

  Chapter 6: Memories Are Made of This

  “To start with,” Robert said, pulling Cleo's chair out for her as he always did, “I want to apologize again for last night. It was all my fault, I accept full responsibility, and I ask you three lovely ladies to forgive me.”

  “We'll try,” Cleo replied, taking her seat and scooting up to the table.

  “I appreciate it,” the traveler said with a smile. “I assure you, we plan to make it up to you completely as soon as we wrap this next job up.”

  “What is the next job?” Azure asked.

  “I have no idea,” Robert admitted.

  “Why don't we remember going to bed last night?” Celeste asked.

  “I'm not sure about that yet, either,” he admitted, turning his eyes to the green maiden. “Cleo, love, do you have anything written on your hands?”

  “Yes...” she replied, rolling her eyes.

  “What's on your left palm?”

  “Cleo loves Robert,” she sighed, holding out her hand. “Seeing as how it’s in my handwriting, I can only assume that you convinced me to forgive you last night but that, at the moment, I can't remember you doing it.”

  “Just assume that I did,” he smiled, “and, forgive me again.”

  “I already said that I'll try.”

  “What's on your right hand?”

  For several seconds, she stared at him in silence before lifting her other palm.

  “Robert Hood is the greatest...” she sighed again, “exclamation mark, exclamation mark, exclamation mark.”

  “That's odd,” Azure chuckled. “That's written in my handwriting.”

  “What?!” Morgan asked with a rising inflection.

  “I'm sure I was just teasing you,” she smiled. “I got pretty upset last night.”

  “And, I would have refused to write that,” Cleo claimed, not convincing anybody.

  “Perfect,” the traveler laughed.

  “You know, Rob, your ego...” Morgan began.

  “It's not a matter of ego,” Robert interrupted. “Well, not completely. You see, I decided some time ago that, if I ever needed to wipe my own memory, I would have Cleo write those messages on her hands.”

  “Why?” the young man asked.

  “Several reasons,” the traveler explained. “First, no one knew I planned to do that. Second, those are phrases you can be sure Cleo wouldn't just randomly write on her palms...”

  “You're right about that,” the green maiden interjected.

  “Third, I had to come up with some way to let me know I was the one who had wiped my memory,” he continued. “Since Cleo has those messages written on her palms, we can be fairly certain that I wiped all our memories, and that the message is genuine.”

  “What message, boss?” Vox asked.

  “This one,” the traveler smiled, pressing a button on the table in front of him.

  An image of Robert instantly appeared on the largest monitor in the conference room.

  “Hey guys,” video-Robert said with a wide smile. “Ladies, you look stunning this morning and, Rob, I hate to toot my own horn but, you look pretty sharp yourself there, my man.”

  “Right back at you,” non-video-Robert replied.

  “I appreciate that,” the recording said. “Although, I have to admit, you're right.”

  “Even I can't believe you sometimes, Rob,” Cleo chuckled, shaking her head.

  “Obviously, I can't hear what you're saying,” the video continued. “However, I'm fairly confident that one of you has made some snide observation about my ego by now. So, I just want to point out that me and Rob worked that out in advance, didn't we, me?”

  “We certainly did,” Robert nodded.

  “And, there's a reason for it,” the video added. “It was another part of my prove I wiped my own memory plan. So, at this moment I'm probably fairly confident that all of this is genuine.”

  “I am,” Robert agreed.

  “Which is good,” the video asserted, “because, it is. Seeing as how I can't know exactly what the current situation is, I'm just going to lay the details of the job on you. Then, once I know what we're dealing with I can work out a plan. I have a plan now, of course, but, I won't remember it when I get this message and I'm not confident that I won't come up with something better when the time comes.”

  “This is crazy,” Morgan interjected.

  “And, Morgan,” the video said, “this is going to take a minute so, please, try not to interrupt.”

  “That was a coincidence,” Robert assured him. “At least, I think it was...”

  “There are a few things I want to explain before we get started,” the video said. “The name of the target planet is Baumkuchen, Morgan.”

  “Thank you,” the young man replied, smiling at Robert.

  “That should circumvent at least one interruption,” the video speculated. “Now, the reason that we're going about this in such a roundabout fashion is to prevent a possible paradox. Obviously, at this moment, I don't know what that paradox is, and I'm afraid it's not safe to tell myself. However, I'm confident that I'll be able to work it out again in the future if I need to.

  “This is very much what we did when we sent the clone back to wake up James Morgan the first and send him home. If the clone's motivation for action had been the fact that the first had never gotten home then the clone sending him back
would have created a paradox. That wasn't the case, however. The clone simply did what it did because it was ordered to do it, without understanding any of the implications.

  “I'm sure you can understand how dangerous it would be for us to go back in time and change something simply because we were told to. That's why I've been this careful about verifying that I was the one who wiped our memories. This is a job that we have to complete without knowing why we did it. This means that, even if we succeed (which, knowing me, we do), we'll still go do what we need to do in the past, even though we don't need to do it because we already did it. Now, do any of you have any questions at this point?”

  “I do,” Morgan nodded.

  “Actually,” the video continued, “I'm only joking. I just wanted to see if Morgan would try to ask the video a question. I really hope he did.”

  This statement caused both Robert and Vox to burst out laughing.

  “Moving on,” video-Robert said with a smile. “A young lady named Maria Sharp went back in time to collect historical data. During her trip, she encountered a young knight – Sir Galfin Sharp. And, yes, the two were related. Apparently, he found the young lady attractive and invited her to attend a banquet. Foolishly, she accepted. During the feast, another knight – Sir Tinnam Yon – kissed Miss Sharp. A duel ensued and Galfin Sharp was killed.

  “Although I think it best not to explain why – and I admit I may be being overly cautious here – it's imperative that Sir Galfin survive. The best way to do that, in my opinion, would be to find some way to prevent the duel. After he's been saved, we need to send a message to Maria instructing her not to go back in the first place. In light of recent events, I think it would be best if we had her record a message to herself.

  “I've hidden all the navigational information you'll need exactly where you expect to find it, Rob. Obviously, I can't tell you how the job went because, at this point in time, I don't know. However, I can assure you that Morgan didn't get killed. Because if he had, I would have to come up with some completely insane anti-paradoxical plan to go back and save him. So, don't worry, Morgan, you're not dead. And, even if you are, I'm sure we save you.”

  “What?!” Morgan exclaimed.

  Again, Robert burst out laughing.

  “Before that gives you a heart-attack,” the video continued, “I want you to know that I'm just teasing. I mean; I made this video in the past and you hadn't been killed yet. Right? So, how could I know...”

  After video-Robert had made this assertion – using his best creepy voice – the recording ended.

  “Robert...” Morgan began.

  “Honestly,” the traveler chuckled, “I was just teasing. That was the final part of my prove it was me plan.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Would you lie about it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “That's very reassuring...”

  “What do we do now?” Azure asked.

  “Give me an hour or so to go over all the details that I'm sure I've sent myself,” Robert replied. “Then, discuss whatever plan I've managed to come up with.”

  This observation brought the meeting to an end. Morgan decided to spend the upcoming hour in the kitchen. The first reason for this was that, Azure was still just annoyed enough about the night before that she and Cleo locked themselves in her room for a private chitchat. The second was that the girls seemed to genuinely appreciate it when he went to the effort to cook. As none of them had eaten breakfast yet, this struck him as a perfect opportunity to use his skills to gain complete forgiveness.

  Celeste joined Morgan in the kitchen just moments after he entered due to the fact that she wasn't in any mood for an MRE breakfast. She pointed out that MREs reminded her of Robert, which reminded her of last night, which reminded her of being mad at Vox. She also explained, in no uncertain terms, that putting up with Robert day by day was more than enough to have to deal with, without having to choke down three MREs every day for the rest of eternity.

  Morgan was wise enough to limit his responses to respectful silence and limited agreement. He understood that, while she was mad, he shouldn't risk supporting Robert but that, after her fury had subsided, she would probably resent anything negative he might have said about him. After all, in some ways, Robert was like her son... and her brother... and her great-great-great-grandfather.

  Having discovered that all Morgan intended to prepare was another round of pancakes, Celeste decided to teach him the art of bacon and eggs. (Both of which they had on-board thanks to Morgan's forethought.) In less than an hour, they had a tray of perfectly cooked bacon along with one of scrambled eggs, and another of fried eggs. In addition to this, Morgan had gone ahead and made flapjacks. For one thing, eating his with cherry syrup reminded him of kissing Azure.

  Of course, in truth, she only very rarely tasted of cherry but, when she did, for some reason, they were always seriously kissing. Which made him believe that she had certain psychic powers which told her when she would need to prep-up by chewing gum. Either that, or the cherry just made it that much more enjoyable for him. After all, it was one of his favorite flavors.

  The pair set the tables in the magnetic bubble chamber before summoning the entire crew to breakfast. As they ate together, everyone's mood visibly improved – except for Doc, who hadn't been upset to start with; and Robert, who spent most of the meal in pensive silence. He quickly finished eating before excusing himself, asking everyone to give him a few more minutes to go over the details of the current job as he left the room.

  A little more than an hour later, Robert asked them all to join him in the conference room once again.

  “Having given it a great deal of thought,” he said as soon as they were all seated, “I think I have a plan.”

  “We expected nothing less,” Cleo said, smiling at him.

  “Yes...” he replied, clearing his throat. “Well, I really appreciate your confidence in me, dear. It's not always easy to decide which angle to approach a problem from. Sometimes, logic dictates that I come to conclusions that I – that none of us, really – will particularly like.”

  “Such things,” Doc nodded, “are, regrettably, unavoidable from time to time.”

  “Just so,” the traveler agreed. “I'm afraid this is one of those cases.”

  “Why?” Azure asked. “What is it we need to do?”

  “As my video-self explained earlier,” Robert replied, pushing a button on the table that brought up an image of a truly massive man in full armor on one of the monitors, “we have to save this man's life. As you can see, Sir Galfin could almost be described as a mountain of a man...”

  “I don't see that,” Morgan interjected. “He can't be much taller than me.”

  “In point of fact,” the traveler replied, “he's six-foot three.”

  “Two inches. Big deal.”

  “He also weighs over three hundred pounds,” Robert pointed out, “most of which is muscle.”

  “Yeah,” Morgan nodded. “I can see how a guy your size would think of that as mountainous. I wouldn't go further than hill-ish myself but, I understand where you're coming from.”

  “May I continue?”

  “Please.”

  “He's also an excellent swordsman,” the traveler asserted, pushing another button and bringing up the image of a second armor-clad warrior. “As is Sir Tinnam. The difficulty is that we have to keep the two of them from fighting while changing as little as possible. We're effectively going in blind, so...”

  “Why are we?” Morgan asked, a thoughtful expression on his face. “That's what I don't get. It seems like a really bad idea to go into the past and not know what we can and can't change.”

  “I've been thinking about that, as well,” Robert nodded, “and I have a theory.”

  “Lay it on us, boss,” Vox smiled.

  “Keep in mind, this is all just guesswork,” the traveler said, taking a deep breath, “but it seems to me that Sir G
alfin may be one of Maria Sharp's sires.”

  “Like kings?” Morgan asked.

  “Like grandfathers,” Celeste replied, rolling her eyes.

  “Oh... right.”

  “So, Maria goes back,” Robert continued, “goes to a banquet held by her ancestor, accidentally kicks off a duel, and gets her great-great-great-grandfather killed, thereby trapping her in a paradox because, as a result, she is never born.”

  “Why would we need to lose our memories for that?” Morgan asked.

  “Not everything is easy to do by remote,” the traveler explained. “What could we rig up to fire off from Never Never Land that would stop this duel?”

  “A time-probe with a tranquilizer gun,” the young man suggested. “We could shoot Sir Tinnam with it before he goes to the banquet.”

  “How do we know that him not showing up won't create another paradox?”

  “Yeah, that is a point.”

  “We need to go in and change as little as possible,” Robert explained. “The universe has enough wiggle-room in it that we're not going to blow up the time-lines by eating some turkey leg that someone else was supposed to get or by talking to some peasant or group of lords for a few minutes, but we can't risk knocking a guy out before he even reaches the banquet. We know that no one should have been killed. Other than stopping that, we need to make as few changes as possible. This is a job that may require the finesse of us actually being there and thinking on the fly.”

  “May?” Doc asked.

  “Let's face it, Doc,” the traveler chuckled. “I'm kind of tricky. I can't be sure that I haven't done all this as a trial run and that there are no paradoxical risks at all. However, we can't treat it like that. I've known for a while that some paradoxes were going to take our personal touch to fix. This is how I plan to go about sending us in without risking getting us trapped in a state of paradoxical-flux. At least, it is until I come up with something else.”

  “Alright,” Azure smiled, “then, how do we go about saving Sir Galfin's life?”

  “That's the part we're really not going to like,” Robert replied, inadvertently shooting a glance at Cleo. “I don't see any way of preventing the duel without risking making bigger changes to the past than I'm comfortable with. I'm afraid we're going to have to let the duel happen but, make sure that it doesn't get Galfin killed.”