by Simon Hawke
There were times when Finn Delaney wanted to take them both and shake them, force them to come out and admit their feelings for each other, hut he was enough of a friend to both of them to know where to draw the line. There were some things that went beyond the bounds of friendship, some things people simply had to do all by themselves. Sooner or later, it would have to happen for them, because the tension was increasing. When she had thought Lucas had died. Andre had been grief-stricken beyond words. When he came back, she’d been so overjoyed to see him alive that she’d responded with her feelings before she had a chance to think and had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Afterward. Delaney found it almost comical to see their mutual embarrassment, but a large chunk of the barrier between them had been broken through and Finn knew that It would only be a matter of time before the remainder of their inhibitions fell away. Privately. he hoped they’d hurry up and get around to it, because lately they’d been using him as a reluctant chaperone, a convenient third party to keep them from being alone together. It made him feel uncomfortable and he wished to hell they’d both grow up and act their age Two grown people, unable to express their feelings. He simply didn’t understand it. But then, being an Irishman. he wouldn’t.
They stepped through the weapons detector, then had their palm prints, voice and retinal patterns checked before being admitted into Forester’s suite of offices and, beyond them, his personal quarters. Forrester himself detested the security measures, but Steiger had insisted on them, especially after a recent assassination attempt that had cost the lives of several of the general’s personal staff. It was solely for that reason that Forrester had agreed to have the security systems installed. He felt responsible for those deaths and he didn’t want anyone else to die because he was marked for assassination by the Network. Forester’s orderly, who now always went armed, conducted them into the general’s presence.
“Come in. people,” Forrester said, as usual not standing on ceremony.
No one in the service knew his exact age-his personal dossier was classified-but Forester looked ancient. His face was deeply lined, his hands were wrinkled and liver-spotted, and he was completely bald, yet his emerald-green eyes were bright and alert and his massive, six-foot six-inch frame was packed with two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. He worked out strenuously for two hours every day and could Curl an eighty-pound dumbbell as if it were a paperweight.
“Have a seat, he said gruffly. “Bar’s open.”
The last remark being a signal to Delaney, who usually did the honors, to help himself to Forrester’s bar and pour drinks for them all-single malt Scotch for Lucas and Andre. vodka and soda for Steiger. Irish whiskey for himself, and for the old man a horrible concoction known as “Red Eye,” a cheap, Old West rotgut whiskey Forrester had inexplicably picked up a taste for. The stuff could remove paint, but the old man tossed it back like it was water.
“Have the prisoner brought in.” said Forester to his orderly.
They all exchanged glances, but said nothing. Not until two armed I.S.D. men brought in their prisoner.
“Christ. it’s Hunter!” said Delaney.
“Okay, as you were. men,” Forester said to the two armed guards, who had snapped sharply to attention with Hunter between them, restrained in magnacuffs. The bracelets around his wrists were locked together by magnetic force and as the guards snapped to attention, one of them used the remote key to bring Hunter to attention, too. The bracelets fastened around his ankles abruptly came together with a sharp click and Hunter almost lost his balance.
“Give me a break, guys.” Hunter said. “I’ve got respect. I would’ve snapped to.”
“Shut up,” said the guard.
“I’ll take that.” said Forrester, holding his hand out. The guard gave him the remote key. “Okay, thank you. gentlemen. Dismissed.”
The two guards came to attention, saluted. about-faced, and left the room. leaving Hunter standing stiffly in the center of the room, his wrists and ankles tightly locked together.
“Permission to assume the position of parade rest, sir?” Hunter asked wryly.
“I can do better than that.’ said Forrester. pointing the small remote control box at him and releasing both sets of bracelets. “Have a seat. Delaney. get the man a drink.”
Hunter looked stunned.
“What’s your poison?” said Delaney.
“Uh.. got any beer?”
Any preference? Light, dark, imported, domestic?”
Hunter shook his head. “I don’t care. You’re buying. Hell. if I’d known you treated your prisoners like this. I might’ve surrendered sooner.”
“He surrendered?” Andre said, glancing at Forrester with disbelief.
“Clocked into base and turned himself right in.” Forrester replied. “Wouldn’t give a reason. He insisted on speaking only to you people.”
“I don’t believe it.” said Delaney. “What the hell are you trying to pull, Reese? You had a warp disc. You were free and clear.”
“But he couldn’t find the confluence point,” said Steiger. “That’s what this is all about, right. Hunter? You think you can swing a deal with us to help you get back home?”
“Why don’t we let the man tell us himself’?” said Forrester.
“Thank you. General.” said Hunter. He took a swallow of beer and sighed. “Ahh, I needed that. Sorry, my nerves are a bit ragged. Tell you the truth. I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I figured on being interrogated, but I gambled that you’d give me a chance to talk before your people tried to break me down.”
“That’s still an option.” Steiger said. “Your cooperation isn’t necessary. Hunter. You’ve got nothing to bargain with. If we want to, we can open you up like a tin can.”
“I know it,” Hunter said. “And to a certain point, I’d spill everything I knew. But past that point. I’d slip into a coma. You see, pilgrim. C.I.S. agents all have subliminal triggers specifically designed to allow us to undergo a certain amount of interrogation, but there are certain things they wouldn’t like us to divulge. Ask the wrong questions and we switch right off. And for obvious reasons. I’d sort of like to avoid that.”
“If that’s not a bluff, then you took a hell of a chance by turning yourself in.” said Lucas “Why’?”
“I’ll answer that question if you answer one of mine first.” Hunter replied.
“You’re in no position to make any demands. Hunter.” Steiger said.
“As you were. Colonel,” Forrester said. “This isn’t an interrogation yet.
The man turned himself in voluntarily, let’s allow him some courtesy as a fellow officer. What’s the question. Captain?”
“I’m not asking for any classified details, you understand,” said Hunter. “But just tell me one thing. Have you got some sort of unusual temporal adjustment mission in progress in colonial Boston. around the 1760s?”
“If we did, then why should we tell you?” said Forrester.
“All right. I understand that. Let me put it another way.” said Hunter. “Let’s proceed, for the moment. on the assumption that you haven’t. And let’s also proceed on t h e assumption that if my people had crossed over and were attempting to create a temporal disruption in that time period. I’d know enough about your history and the way my people operate to recognize it going down. Okay?”
“Okay,” said Forrester. “I’ll accept that for the sake of the discussion. What’s your point?”
“With your indulgence, sir, I’d like to make one more assumption before I get to it,” said Hunter. “I know about the Network. I know they’re a bunch of renegade agents. but they’re basically into organized crime, temporal profiteering, right? I’m assuming they’d have no reason to create a temporal disruption that could endanger their own timeline and their money-making operations, correct?”
“Correct.” said Forrester.
Hunter nodded. “In that case, General, there’s something going down in
colonial Boston and if it’s not you, and if it’s not my people, and if it’s not the Network, then who does that leave?”
There was a brief moment of silence.
And then Delaney voiced what all of them were thinking. “Nikolai Drakov,” he said.
“Yeah. that’s what I figured. too.” said Hunter.
“I think you’d better tell us what you know, Captain,” said Forester, tensely.
Hunter gave him a steady stare. “Let’s talk about a deal first,” he said.
“No deals!” said Steiger.
“Colonel, I said as you were,” snapped Forester.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. sir.”
“I’m listening. Captain, Hunter.” Forrester said.
“I appreciate that, sir.’ said Hunter. “And as Col. Steiger said, I realize that I’m in no position to make any demands, but
I’m asking you to consider that I came in voluntarily. I didn’t have to do that. I was also in a position to create a temporal disruption of my own, but I didn’t do that, either. Now I’ve already given you a lot for free.” He glanced at Steiger. “I realize that you could probably get the rest of it out of me through your interrogation techniques, but on the other hand, you just might wind up setting off one of those subliminal triggers and that would be all she wrote. I’d be a vegetable and you’d be right back where you started. You know there’s something going down in colonial Boston in the 1760s, but that still leaves you with a lot of territory to cover doesn’t it?”
“Very well. Captain.” said Forrester. “What did you have in mind?”
“Safe conduct through a confluence point back to my own timeline.” Hunter said.
“If your information’s good. I think that might be arranged,” said Forrester. But not until your information has been thoroughly checked out.”
“That’s fair.” said Hunter. “But I want one other thing.”
Forrester raised his eyebrows. “You’re already asking quite a lot. Captain.”
“I want in on the mission,” Hunter said.
“What?” said Steiger. “You’re out of your mind!”
“Back off, Steiger.” Hunter said. ‘I helped save your bacon in 20th-century New York, remember? You owe me, Nikolai Drakov poses a threat to both our timelines. Besides, this has nothing to do with the hostilities between us. This is strictly personal. I’ve got unfinished business with that man. And I’ve already established connections in that temporal scenario. I could make things easier for you. Without me. you’d be going in cold.” He turned back to Forrester. “What’s it going to be. sir’?”
They all looked at Forrester expectantly.
The old man thought about it only for a moment. “All right. Captain.” he said. “I’ll take a chance on you. You’ve got a deal.”
2
The last time he had been to Boston was in 1867. but that time would not arrive for about another hundred years Nikolai Drakov had known nothing about time travel then, only that his father, whom he hated, had come from the far future. Moses Forrester had met his mother, loved her, and then returned to the future once again, leaving her to give birth to their child alone as Moscow burned during Napoleon’s retreat.
The infant Nikolai had survived the savage Russian winter while grown men around him died. His poverty-stricken mother married a kindly Russian army officer who took them in, but the man was a Decembrist and Nikolai was just thirteen when they were exiled to Siberia. He survived Siberia as well, only his family did not His adoptive father had died of influenza in his prison cell and his mother had been murdered by a rapist. Nikolai had been too young to save her, although he had tried. He still bore the mark the murderer had left him with, a knife scar running from beneath his left eye to just above the corner of his mouth. In years to come, it would be taken for a dueling scar and thought quite dashing. In still later years to come, cosmetic surgery could easily have removed it. but Drakov chose to let it stay., He wanted to remember.
An old trapper took him in anti Drakov learned to hunt and live off the frozen wilderness. Eventually, he made his way to the Russian settlements in Alaska. At the age of twenty, he was once more on his own and he took up the fur trade, He still looked very young. He could not have known back then that due to the advances of the future, he had inherited from his father an immunity to all known diseases and an extended lifespan that would be measured in centuries, not decades. He knew only that he had survived conditions that had killed ordinary men and he hardly seemed to age. He looked so young that many people tried to take advantage of him. He learned how to fight and how to kill. He had long ago learned how to hate.
He became a seaman and hunted seals in the Pribilofs. Before long, he had his own ship and the hardened sailors soon learned to respect their tough “young” captain. At thirty-eight, he still looked like a teenager. although his rough life had given him a powerful physique. After a while his constant youthfulness started to cause comment and people became too curious about him. It was time for him to move on. He sold his ship and arrived in Boston a very wealthy man. He purchased a handsome mansion on Beacon Hill and invested in the stock market. Within a few years. he had multiplied his fortune many times. He was thought to be some European nobleman and he became much sought after in society. But notoriety soon led to curiosity and as the years passed. people again began to wonder why he never seemed to age. It was time to move on once again.
He was seventy years old when he arrived in London, though he did not look a day over twenty-five. He had no need of looking for an occupation. He had millions. He had everything a man could want. Everything but answers. And he found the answers when he found Sophia Falco, alias the Falcon. one of the leaders of the Timekeepers, a terrorist organization from the 27th century. When they found out whose son he was, they eagerly accepted him into their ranks. The irony of Moses Forrester’s son becoming a member of the Timekeepers was too delicious to pass up and from that moment on, Drakov’s life had taken on a whole new meaning.
He had joined the Timekeepers and traveled to the future, where a biochip had been obtained for him and he was educated via cerebral implant programming. With the native intelligence he already possessed, after the programming, he emerged a genius. He finally understood who and what he was and he was able to comprehend the convoluted principles of temporal physics. And he had made up his mind that he would devote the remainder of his life to destroying Moses Forrester and the perverse world that he came from.
Now he was the last one left. Sophia. Benedetto. Taylor. Singh. Tremain… all of them were dead. The Timekeepers were no more. But Drakov wasn’t finished yet. With all time at his beck and call, he had infinite resources. He would stop the Future, even if he had to destroy the world to do it.
It had been a long. unpleasant voyage across the North Atlantic. The bunks were damp. the bread was weevil-ridden. and the beef was tainted. The merchant ships of this day were like crude, ungainly barges compared to the sleek schooner he had sailed in the Pribilof’s and there were far easier ways to make the passage. He could have simply used his warp disc to clock to 18th-century America. but that would not have fit in with his plans. It had first been necessary to establish an identity for himself in London. set up finances, and make the right connections with influential men such as John Wilkes. Sir Francis Dashwood, Lord William Howe, and Benjamin Franklin. one of the colonial agents in London. If anyone in New England was to inquire into his affairs, he wanted to make certain that he could easily account for how he had arrived in Boston. so the long sea voyage had been necessary
The Boston of the 18th century looked very different from the Boston he had known. He stood on deck when the ship passed Castle Island. where Castle William stood. the British garrison in Massachusetts Bay. The Union Jack flew high over the fort. Sea gulls rode the wind currents over the ship, hoping for some scraps of garbage to be thrown overboard. The city of Boston was almost an island, attached to the mainland by a narrow, mile-long neck of land. T
he docks were crowded with a mass of piers and wharves and shipyards. stages for drying fish, distilleries and warehouses. All manner of sailing vessels crowded the harbor. There were merchant ships and schooners. sloops. whalers, ferries, fishing ketches and ship’s lighters, and even a British man o’ war, the Romney. with its seventy-four guns. They had passed her on the starboard side and just beyond her. Drakov had seen another British naval vessel, the schooner Lawrence. He smiled as he saw the Royal Navy ships. He bad timed his arrival perfectly. Boston seemed a lovely, graceful. tranquil city as they sailed into the harbor, but it was a hotbed of rebellion, a powder keg just waiting for someone to ignite the fuse.
“Americans are the sons. not the bastards of England!” The words were William Pitt’s, spoken in the House of Commons, and widely quoted three thousand miles away in Boston. Readers of the Boston Gazette hung anxiously on every word spoken in Parliament by men like William Pitt and Col. Isaac Barre, who had fought gallantly in the French and Indian War and was a good friend to the colonists. Drakov had seen Col. Barre take the floor in Parliament and reply to Charles Townshend in the debate over Lord Grenville’s Stamp Act.
“Will these Americans,” Townshend had said indignantly. “children planted by our care, nourished up by our indulgence until they are grown to a degree of strength and opulence, and protected by our arms, will they grudge to contribute their mite to relieve us from the heavy burdens which we lie under?”
To which Col. Butt had replied, “They planted by your care? No, your oppressions planted them in America! They fled from your tyranny to a then uncultivated and inhospitable country, where they exposed themselves to almost all the hardships of which human nature is liable, and among others, to the cruelty of a savage foe, and yet actuated by the principles of true English liberty, they met all hardships with pleasure. compared with those they suffered in their own country from the hands of those who should have been their friends! They nourished by your indulgence? They grew by your neglect of them! As soon as you began to care about them, that care was exercised in sending persons to rule over them in one department and another, men whose behavior on many occasions has caused the blood of those sons of liberty to recoil within them!”
