Timelines

by Bob Blink

  “I’ll do what I can,” he agreed. “I’ll call at the residence number when I know something. I guess I am to bring them there where we meet before bringing them here for a demonstration.”

  “That’s correct,” I agreed. “The phone there is manned all the time. They can contact us. I’ll be the one that comes out to meet them. So, if they want to be stupid, they can arrest me. If they are smart, they’ll have someone high up put out the word to drop any such attempts. We have a real enemy to fight.”

  There wasn’t much else to say. I had talked with Jeff quite a bit the past few weeks. I agreed with Mike. He saw our side. I think he would have liked to have been one of us all along. He would do what he could. I looked forward to seeing what that would turn out to be.

  I walked him to the cave entrance, and shook his hand before he walked down the short incline to the car waiting for him. He turned and waved before putting the briefcase inside the car and sliding in beside it. A few moments later he was driving away. It was the first time he had been free to go where he wanted in weeks. I had the feeling he really wanted to go back inside with me.

  Chapter 43

  Texas

  1877

  Thomas slid the stubby little weapon into the scabbard on the right side of his horse’s saddle. There was another scabbard on the other side that already held a Winchester shotgun. What an anomaly, he thought. A futuristic weapon being carried around just like an old lever action in a western movie. Except it wasn’t a movie. This was real. He had stowed the other identical weapon into the spare scabbard on Curtis’ horse a few minutes before. He and Curtis had made their way to the office after Mike had given them instructions regarding hunting down the missing alien this morning. They had come in very early, using a couple of the motorbikes that had been equipped with very effective mufflers so as not to attract attention. So here they were in 1877 Texas. They were in Dallas, a couple of blocks from the office, and about 15 miles from where the tunnel exited into this era.

  “Have we got everything?” He heard the heavy thumping as Curtis clunked his way across the wooden sidewalk just outside the ‘J. Overbay’s Dry Goods and Clothing’ store. He was wearing a new pair of straight boots, cowboy boots to most of us, which he hadn’t gotten used to as yet. Thomas remembered how the higher heels had given him trouble at first. He had finally grown used to them and the boots were his standard shoe type these days. The shoes he was wearing looked similar to those Curtis had just purchased, but they were made uptime in the 21st century, and were a sight more comfortable than the boots one could buy here. They were well broken in, having been worn daily for almost a year now. Actually all of his clothes were from uptime. While they looked similar to those of the era, the material and fit was far better. He had noted on his earlier trips that the quality of the clothing left a lot to be desired. Most wore ill-fitting, baggy, and heavy clothing. Much of it was home-made, but even the store bought goods left him cold. He had been able to make up for the limitations of the period by spending a little time in the western shop just down the street from where he had lived in Seattle. Curtis hadn’t had the luxury. When they arrived at the office, one of the first orders of business had been to bring Curtis to the local clothing store. One of men assigned to support them had wandered a bit further down the street to pick up their horses while they shopped.

  Walking around from behind his horse, he took stock of Curtis and the two men with him. The other two were full timers in this era, men the office had supplied to ride with them. They were dressed like the rest of the locals. No one could tell they wore comfortable 21st century underwear beneath the scratchy outer clothing. Curtis now fit in as well. He had on dark pants of a coarse cotton, and a lose fitting dark brown shirt of the same material. He also wore a black felt hat. He noticed that most of the hats the men wore were black, and only a few brown. Almost no one wore a white hat. Too hard to keep clean, he guessed. But the hats were necessary. The sun was hot, and they would be out long hours every day. It was too warm for a coat in the middle of August, but Frank carried a rain slicker that he was rolling up to put on his horse. Unfortunately they were stuck with horses for the duration. The bikes would attract too much attention, and there were no supplies of gasoline. He actually liked horses, but they weren’t the fastest or most efficient transportation for the important task at hand

  “We’re ready to go,” he finally responded. “Food, weapons, horses. It’s too bad it’s almost twenty miles back to where we have to pick up the trail.”

  He was still a bit annoyed by the need to come all the way into Dallas to pick up additional support. Now they would be heading most of the way back. Mike had been adamant about coordinating with the local office. They had scouted the trail left by the alien. It was clear from the tracks and other sign that the alien had stayed in the rocks just outside the cave for some time. Thinking about returning to the complex? Waiting for his fellows to show indicating the battle had been won? Thinking about ambushing anyone whom came out after him? Thomas wasn’t sure, but eventually the alien had taken off, headed away from the complex entrance. They had followed the trail for several miles before they lost all sign in the rocky ground.

  That’s when Mike decided it was going to be an extended effort to track down the alien, and wanted to bring in the local office. Being short of men had a lot to do with it as well. Mike couldn’t afford to release any more of the men he counted on for defense of the command center. That meant getting backup from the team that was located in this time. It was a good way to keep them informed as well. They would be checking in daily regardless of what they found, and their status would be relayed back to the center during the periodic status checks made. Someone would be manning the radio in the local office full-time, so they had the ability to make contact at any time should the need arise.

  “If that thing is on foot then he can’t get too far ahead of us,” commented Rick, one of the two locals. “You said he doesn’t have one of those flyers, and the way he would stand out, he will have to do most of his traveling by night. If people see him, he’ll soon have half the county out looking.”

  He might be able to take them all on, thought Thomas. However he guessed the man was correct. Traveling very far in any direction would bring the alien into contact with people. Some areas were more populated than others, but westward expansion had brought people to the area by the thousands. That meant he would have to restrict his movement unless he didn’t care about being seen. Thomas suspected the alien had some kind of plan. That didn’t include making the populace aware of him. Not yet anyway.

  The four men mounted up. Thomas savored the satisfying squeak of the leather saddle as he settled in. He knew by the end of the day that he would hate sitting on the horse. As much as he loved this period, he hadn’t spent much time in the saddle for months. It took some time to toughen up, which meant he would be sore before the day was over. He hoped Curtis at least knew how to ride.

  The men were all armed, but for the most part it meant nothing. He and Curtis each had one of the alien weapons, which were the only arms that really mattered. The use of the strange weapon would be demonstrated to the two men with them once they found a suitable location out of town. It was important that everyone be familiar with the functioning of the alien device. One of the reasons for the additional men was to cover the possibility either he or Curtis was killed or wounded. If that happened, one of the others would take over the downed man’s alien weapon. The hope was having two of the weapons against the alien would give them the needed edge.

  Frank and Rich took the lead. He noted the lever action rifles resting in the scabbards, jerking back and forth as the horses made their way slowly down the dusty dirt-packed street. He could tell the two rifles were from the current era. That meant they were black powder, and corresponding lower velocity. The shotgun he carried was local as well. The single action Colts the two men carried were also current period black powder. He carried his own Single acti
on, but his was a Ruger copy of the Colt. The Bisley model had been cut down by a gun smith from the 7.5 inch barrel the factory supplied, to the more comfortable 4 5/8 inch length. It was also loaded with a much more potent version of the 45 Colt round. He knew that Curtis’ rifle was a high power .480 lever action that used modern smokeless powder. Curtis wasn’t carrying a handgun at all. He smiled at his interest in the weapons. None of them mattered. The previous encounters had shown that projectile firearms just weren’t effective against the shields the alien carried. The other weapons were just window dressing, the same as their clothing. They allowed them to fit in as they continued their search.

  “I can’t believe how crude everything is,” Curtis remarked as they made their way down the main street toward the edge of town.

  It was an unkind, if accurate observation thought Thomas. He suspected the others were a bit put off by the remark as well. Like him they were attracted to this era. They liked the simplicity, the honesty and hard-working nature of the people that lived here. Sure, he missed some of the conveniences, but on even trade the refreshing sense of self reliance and friendliness won out. He had already decided he would stay here in 1877 if the complex were shut down.

  He stared at the buildings with renewed interest as they made their way down the street. Most were small, less than half the width of a typical house back home. Only the saloons seemed to be larger. All were wood, many unpainted with large black lettered signs permanently painted to the wood of the building. Only a few had detachable signs advertising the goods or services offered inside. For the most part, narrow wooden sidewalks extended a few feet into the street from the building, standing only four or five inches above the dirt street. They became muddy and slippery during the rainy season. Many of the buildings had no sidewalks at all, just a single step or two leading up from the dirt street to the narrow doorway that led inside. He noticed one building they were passing had a box that made do for the first step. Yes, crude indeed, he thought to himself. Still, a period where people had their pride and principle.

  They continued down the street, ignored by those they passed, mostly on foot, but a few in carriages, and several on horseback heading the other way. Only a few kids took interest in their departure, talking among themselves and pointing.

  Mid afternoon brought the foursome back to the area where the trail had been lost the other day. It had been a long ride, and dusty as the wind had come up mid morning stirring up sand and dust that had followed them for the remainder of the ride. Thomas could see his fears were valid as even the tracks they had found the other day were being eroded away by the swirling dust. Unless they were lucky, finding the alien was going to be impossible.

  The four dismounted and moved into the shade provided by a stand of oak trees. Taking a few moments to grab a drink and a brief snack from their supplies, they discussed options. It was likely the alien was familiar with the area. The reason for the tunnel to this era was still uncertain, but the aliens had to have come here. Since it had not headed for the larger towns nearby, it had something different in mind. It was headed north. According to Rick, that direction led to a number of farms and ranches, but no significant population centers for a long way. With the city to the south, and mostly open desert east and west they decided the alien would probably continue its current direction.

  With the horses rested, they started northward, spread out and searching for any sign the alien had passed this way. Several hours passed before anything was found. Then, in an area sheltered from the wind by a small valley and a stand of trees at the entrance, they found several of the familiar footprints. At least they were headed in the right direction. Thomas wondered how far behind they were. Now, however, it was getting dark. This was a good place to camp, so they unsaddled the horses and settled in for the evening. Thomas and Curtis brought the others up to speed on the arrival of the aliens, the battle, and mostly the ship the aliens had used to reach earth.

  They were off again at dawn, not delaying to make breakfast. Water and trail bars would have to do for now. Thomas had spent a couple of hours thinking before falling to sleep the previous night. The area out here was deserted enough the alien could have continued to move even during the day. Rick indicated they were getting closer to the farmlands, meaning the alien was going to have to limit its daytime traveling. He wondered if the alien had spent part of the day hiding here. They needed to be on the lookout for places that could provide cover during the day.

  “Ranch,” Rick noted and pointed slightly off to their right. Perhaps two miles away, they could just see the outline of the structures silhouetted against the lighter sky. Without a word, they turned and headed their horses in the new direction. Chances were slim, but maybe the owner had seen or heard something that would give them a better idea how to proceed. The vast open plains were not making Thomas any more confident about their chances of finding the creature. It was going to take a lot of luck. There were just too many places for the thing to hide.

  The rancher hadn’t seen anything, but had suffered an attack on his chickens before dark. An animal had broken in, probably a coyote, causing the flock to raise an incredible ruckus a couple of hours before sun-up the man explained. Surprisingly, not one of them had been taken, but most of the eggs had been broken.

  “Do you think?” Frank started to ask.

  Thomas waived him down. They could talk about it when the rancher wasn’t around. He knew what Frank was thinking. They didn’t know what the alien could eat. The ones that had been killed in the complex hadn’t any food supplies on them. They hadn’t anticipated trouble and had expected to be back from whatever tasks were planned in time to eat. So the object of their search hadn’t eaten in some time. The alien had to be investigating possible food supplies. Maybe this had been something other than a hungry coyote.

  The ground was too hard and the rancher had been too diligent in his repairs. Thomas and his team were unable to find any tracks that would support their theory. They continued on, thanking the man for his information. That evening they found another instance where a chicken coop had been raided. This time Frank found a single track. It was enough.

  Chapter 44

  Time Complex

  Saturday, 30 September 2006

  Working together, each assisted by one or more of their key people, John and Al had managed miracles. We had met just a little less than twenty-four hours ago, and already they had unearthed some of the secrets we desperately needed. Admittedly, some of the breakthroughs were a direct result of the work done earlier in revealing the secrets hidden in the time complex itself. Making copies of the ship’s computer files, for instance. The computers systems were identical, and it was straightforward to install one of the spare computers onto the ship’s network and access the file system. By now the human-alien interface that Cindy had described some days before had been implemented. It was therefore much easier for the operators to sit down, access the alien system, and make copies of all the information. The files on the ship were significantly more extensive. This, of course, was a double-edged sword. It meant we had far more information available to us. It also meant that anything we wanted would be that much harder to find, buried in the tera-bytes of data we had down-loaded. Multiple copies had been made. Each of the remote sites now had a complete set of the data, and each was tasked with a specific responsibility by John’s team leaders.

  One of Carol’s requests had already been granted. We were standing on the upper deck of the alien ship, looking out the right most of the two side observation windows that had been opened as a result of the file searches. John had found files that related to ship’s operation, and Al’s team had sorted through the translations to learn how to perform the operation. Convinced we were not endangering the ship, the station, or our people, we gave the go ahead to give it a try. Following the translated instructions, Al pressed a couple of control buttons he had located on one of the side consoles, and silently the inner and outer protective me
tal plates had slipped back into their sheathes, revealing the observation ports. For the first time we could see a small section of the outside of the control complex. Unfortunately, the relative geometry of the station and the ship’s interface to the long walkway prevented us from getting much of a view.

  What could been seen was visible only from the starboard window. The port window showed more space, filled with stars, and with a bit of a squint, a little more of the planet below. The control complex was not visible at all from the left side of the ship. From the starboard side, where we were currently gathered, a small section of an un-attractive, boxy structure presented itself to us. The long tube, to which the ship was attached, held the ship a considerable distance out from the station. This meant even with the windows open, we couldn’t see back far enough to see the main areas of the station. What could be seen was a windowless rectangular structure. At the end, the greatest distance away from us, the top and bottom of the boxy structure of the station equipment room was covered with hemispherical domes. Large silvery looking structures larger than the room itself.

  “Cooling,” Al suggested when the question was asked. “Just working out the geometry in my head, that has to be the back room where the equipment is located. We always thought that was a power system. With the power requirements, it must generate incredible heat. Some means of rejecting the heat into space makes sense. The surfaces are mirrored, similar to technology we use on our spacecraft, but I’ll bet a thousand times more efficient. I’ll bet there is also some mechanism to transfer the heat inside the equipment and spread it across those external surfaces. Heat pipes came to mind, but that was our primitive technology. They would have something far more efficient.”