by Fred Holmes
The rest of the day was spent preparing Dee for the trip. They examined the maps carefully. Once Lida prepared the capsule, she constructed a pouch out of some of the skin in his left armpit and sewed it with a few tendons from the shoulder. Unlike a major surgery, this was a procedure she had learned from one of the Doctors and was able to replicate on her own. The pouch would carry the capsule for Rummy’s return. Dee’s cuts were numbed up enough to keep him from being in pain for a couple of hours.
They inserted his return capsule under the skin, located back and beneath the left bicep, similar to inserting an RFID chip. All he had to do was pull off the pouch, take out the capsule, and give it to Rummy to swallow. Once Rummy was gone, Dee would reach under his left arm and squeeze the capsule through the skin. He’d return in twenty seconds, and his time travel days would be over.
As everything was being prepared, Dee asked, “What if he doesn’t believe me? He doesn’t know me. What if he won’t come back?”
“We already thought of that. Bring in Artie, Bruno.”
A large man with long blonde hair tied in a ponytail and a multitude of tattoos semi-covered by a wife-beater undershirt entered the room, accompanied by Bruno. “This is Artie Small, the best tattoo artist in Virginia.”
“Make it the East Coast, Lida,” Artie said. “How’s my sweetie today?”
“Great Artie!” She tore her eyes away from his pumped up muscles and sighed. Artie grinned. Then he went to work, and, using a small amount of Dee’s blood, tattooed a message on his arm It read, “Come Home, Rummy. . . Lida.” why did you use my blood? Why not use ink?”
“No DNA in the ink,” Artie said. “I’ve been doing some experimenting, and it takes about two hours for the blood to absorb. So we need to get moving.”
Lida picked up a syringe and injected Dee in the shoulder.
“Ouch! That hu— ”
He was gone, and the room got quiet.
Chapter 9
DEWAYNE SIXKILLER settled on the grass in front of a row of tents. He lay still, then turned his head around in the dim light of the quarter moon. He could see the stockade wall maybe fifty feet behind him and wondered if he might be safer next to the fence. He discarded that idea and crawled up closer to the tents. If only he had some clothes. He listened carefully, but could only make out a quiet discussion between three or four prisoners.
Dee had to make his move soon. It was getting dark and the kerosene lights on the wall would soon illuminate the area. His tattoo would be fading as well. He had to do something.
* * * * *
“Keep everybody quiet,” Traweek said, “and make as if you’re sleeping. The night check guard will be along soon, and then we can get ready.”
A loud whisper came from outside. “Hello? Hello in the tent! Help me! I need help.” The tent went quiet.
“I’m coming around in front of the tent.” A man crawled around to the entrance.
Traweek opened the tent. “Get in here, quickly, quickly.”
The man entered the tent.
“He’s naked,” Maul said. “Where’s your clothes? He can’t stay here naked. No telling what they’d do if they found us with a naked man in our tent.”
“Who are you?” Traweek said. “You can’t stay here. If they find you like this, we’ll all get thrown in the dungeon. Where’s your clothes?” He moved closer to the man. “You got long hair.”
“I only seen hair like that on an Injun,” Putegnat said. “You an Injun?”
“Yes, I’m an Indian scout for General Stand Watie’s raiders,” said the naked man. “I was on a scouting mission when a Jayhawker patrol nabbed me. When I arrived here, they took all my good buckskins and were going to put me in the dungeon. When they stopped at the Commandant’s Office, they went inside and left me alone for a minute. I slipped behind the third row of tents and worked my way over here.”
Putegnat said, “I have what’s left of my shirt.
The one we used for the sacks. He can have that.”
“I’ve got some pants he can have,” Maul said. “Not good, but it’ll cover him, and we need to get him covered quickly.”
“He can have my cap,” Traweek chimed in. “Maybe cover up that dang hair.”
They fished around the tent and, shortly, the Indian looked much like every other rag-tag POW.
The Indian took a deep breath, seeming to come to a decision. “You got a fellow named Rummy around here?” he said.
They all went quiet.
“What do you want him for?” Traweek asked.
“A friend of his was on the train and gave me a message for him. Important, he said.”
“Why didn’t he deliver it? Train only go one way?”
“He didn’t make it. He was dying. Died on the train.”
“Give me the message,” Putegnat said. “I’ll give it to him.”
“No. It’s personal, and I need to give him the message, myself. I promised the fellow.”
“Can’t see any harm in that,” Maul said. “Why don’t I take him to Rummy.”
“No,” Traweek said. “He can’t go to Rummy’s tent. You know better than that, John. Best bring Rummy here. Fetch him and put Crawford in Rummy’s place. He can guard the tent for a bit. Got to watch for snoopers.”
Maul left the tent and a few minutes later, he returned with Rummy in tow.
The Indian pulled up his shirt and showed the tattoo to Rummy.
Rummy read the message and asked, “Are you from Virginia?”
“Yes,” the Indian said and raised his shirt higher to show Rummy the pouch. “There’s a capsule in this pouch that Lida made for you. You need to take it.”
“What’s going on?” Traweek asked. “What’s this all about?”
“I can’t take it,” said Rummy. “I’ve sworn to help these fellows. I can’t take it!”
“She depends on you to come back and help her.”
“She doesn’t need my help. She can get along without me. I’m not going back.”
As the conversation continued, Traweek got up, yawned, and stretched. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his knife, stepped behind the Indian, wrapped his arm around the Indian’s neck, and held the knife to his throat.
“Get Rummy,” Traweek said. “We need to kill both of them. They’ll ruin our plans.”
Maul wrapped his hands around Rummy’s throat and proceeded to squeeze.
“Oh crap,” said the Indian. He reached up, put his thumb and finger on Traweek’s wrist and squeezed hard on the pressure point.
Traweek dropped the knife. The Indian retrieved it and, with one smooth movement, reversed his position and now held the knife point just under Traweek’s third rib.
“Now,” the Indian said to all the tunnelers, “are we going to be friends, or do you want to elect a new leader for your escape? I know all about your plans, and if you resist, I’ll kill this guy, blow the whistle on the tunnel, and take Rummy anyway. Now, what’s it going to be?”
“We don’t have any choice,” Traweek said. “There are ten guys depending on us. Sorry Rummy.” He looked up at the Indian. “Tell us what we have to do!”
“Please don’t take me back,” Rummy said to the Indian. “I’m a changed man. I can help these fellows. I won’t be any good to her now.”
“Sorry Rummy. Too much depends on your return. Pull off this pouch, take out the capsule, and swallow it.”
Rummy stepped over and pulled off the pouch. “Ouch!” said the Indian. Then there was a sound like a bat hitting a watermelon, and the Indian toppled. The tent opened. Crawford stood there with the board they had used to seal the tunnel in his hands. Traweek picked up the knife quickly and placed it at the Indian’s throat once more.
“Hold it, Wash,” Rummy said. “I’ve got a better way. Give me your canteen.” He pried open the Indian’s mouth carefully, inserted the capsule, poured some water into his mouth, and held it shut with one hand while he poured the rest over his head.
Dee came to, swallowed, shimmered, and disappeared. Putegnat and Crawford gasped.
Rummy grinned. “That takes care of him.”
* * * * *
Lida had a table with a cushion on it to soften Rummy’s landing. She paced up and down next to the table while she waited for his appearance.
There was a shimmering over the table. Lida gasped, Erik laughed, and Bunny giggled as they watched a naked Dee sit up.
“Anyone have a couple of aspirins?”
Chapter 10
LIDA THREW a Dyna-Tyme robe to Dee. He wrapped his muscular body in it, and Bunny sighed.
“Lida, I guess you’re wondering what happened?” Dee said.
“Specifically, where is Rummy?”
“I screwed up. Rummy’s not coming back.
He proceeded to recount the events in Elmira prison of the past few hours.
“He’s thrown his lot in with those escapees,” Dee finished. “He’ll be in that tunnel at 3:30 AM no matter what.”
“What did he mean he can’t help me? He’s a changed man? Bull crap. He’s the same old power-hungry con man. He’s involved in the escape plans. He …”
“I don’t know him, of course, but he seemed locked into this escape attempt. Quite committed as far as I could tell.”
Lida put her hands on her hips. “You’re going back. I’ll make up a new capsule, and you can go right back to that tent, take care of the Rebs, and send Rummy home to me. You all know why I need him.”
“Our research showed us that we couldn’t make major changes in the past with time travel because of loss of control,” Bunny said. “Once a time traveler makes changes in the past, time takes over, and it’s out of our control. Mr. Venable proved that. You can make little changes, and you get small effects, but if you try to make a large change in the past soon people and events are totally out of your hands. I’ll bet you have a deal with somebody who’s ready to pay big money to get the system. If it were me, I’d use it as a threat. Show some minor changes, hit the reset button, and then explain how you’re gonna destroy the world, and pretty soon the bucks come rolling in and the world’s at your feet.”
“For just a pretty face, you’re sharp. We have contact with an even bigger player than your client. These people are willing to pay millions to own RTSL with the stipulation that Dyna-Tyme is no more. They figured it out and claimed that after a demonstration of the power of RTSL if they owned it they’d own the world. As you correctly deduced, they intend to use RTSL as a threat. If you think extraterrestrials could be dangerous, these terrestrials are much worse because they know us.”
“Their side is the only side to be on. I play a part in the plan, but Rummy is the key player. He had everything set up before Carleton’s tinkering, Ralph’s programming, and Ginger’s cocktail set us back.”
Lida picked a syringe from the cart, “So Dee, you are going to take another trip back in time. And I don’t care how you do it, return with Rummy, or I’ll unleash Vinnie and Bruno on all three of you, and the next trip you make will be to the Jersey beach with expired DNA.”
“If you’re going to be like that, I guess I don’t have any choice, except I think I know a better way to do it.”
“After the last trip, I don’t think I can trust you to improvise.”
“Trust is not the issue. The last trip was iffy. Entering a prison with thousands of inmates wandering around makes carrying out the mission risky. I could’ve been locked up easily last time. It was pure luck that I found them, they had clothes, and I didn’t get my throat slit. The chances are slim that I can pull it off again. I’d have to go in ahead of time, so they wouldn’t be on guard.”
“That wouldn’t work. If you go back before when you arrived previously, the past will reset to what it was when you got there. You’d have to find clothes and go through with the events just as before. Except you, the time traveler, subject to the quirks of RTSL, would be aware of both times. What plan do you have?”
“You mentioned that you could tell what they were going to be doing and when, right? Where did you get the information?”
“One of the prisoners, Washington Traweek, wrote about the events leading up to the escape, the escape itself, and the journey home after the escape. It’s a detailed recollection written after the war. It even gives the time when the first prisoner escapes.”
“And after that?”
“They walk through town, wade the river and hole up on Mount Zoar the entire next day.”
“Then let them escape, and I’ll pick up Rummy when they’re on the mountain.”
“How are you going to do that? The guards will be on alert.”
“That’s my specialty. I’m a Cherokee scout, remember?”
Lida nodded and Erik spoke up. “If your information is accurate, this will be easy for Dee. He’ll have the advantage. Why don’t we look at this journal and come up with a plan? When we get Rummy and Dee back, we need to all discuss a plan and work out the details of a joint effort to sell this system. Otherwise, one of our clients is liable to set the world back to the Ice Age.”
Lida nodded and set the journal down in front of them.
“See here.” Dee pointed to page eight. “See where they travel about nine miles the first day, then slept in a barn? The next morning they went to a house nearby, and the woman who lived there showed them a newspaper talking about the escape. She fed them and gave them directions. The last paragraph says that they followed the Harrisburg and Pennsylvania Railroad.
“You need to intercept them before they go back up into the mountains,” said Bunny. “I’d suggest that you capture them at the farmhouse as the lady there will be alone and easy to overpower. You’ll be able to find some clothes. As soon as they arrive, you need to get the capsule into Rummy and then take your own capsule. By the way, Lida needs to make you a new one and a return capsule for Rummy.”
“I still have mine,” said Dee. “I’ll just need one for Rummy.”
“I’m going to make four for the two for you,” Lida said. “Just in case something unusual comes up. It’s going to take me a little while, so help yourself to some snacks and get some rest.”
“Say, this patch is sore. Hurts like the devil.”
“I’ll give you another shot of long-acting Novocain.”
“Thanks. That’ll help.”
* * * * *
Now there’s one coming, and one going, and one coming back. Mike thought.
He decided to check out Lida’s office. It was locked but it only took him about thirty seconds to pick it. Good FBI training. He opened the door and surveyed the room. A few plaques as an employee of the month. He smiled, knowing how she probably earned those. He started with the desk, pulling each drawer until he found one that was locked. People don’t hide things in unlocked compartments.
The eight by ten photo jumped out at him. He turned it over but no inscription. He snapped a photo with his phone. He brought it up closer, and it looked like water had stained the photo. Not much, just a few drops, like sweat, or spit, or … or tears. Mike slipped the photo back in the drawer and locked it, making sure he hadn’t moved anything. Then he left, locking the door behind him.
A few minutes later Mike was perched on a stool talking with Nina Rains. Before he started, he received permission and took her photo for his gallery.
“Thanks for the photo. I have current shots of nearly everyone. You never know when somebody goes missing, and you’re stuck trying to identify them with a two-year-old photograph.” He put his phone away. “So, in your work, you probably check just about everyone at one time or another, right?” He watched her carefully as he spoke. “I’m going to shoot straight with you. Someone has been hacking into our system, or at least making some sophisticated attempts.”
Nina looked straight into his eyes. “That’s not my area. I’m more into vetting. That security stuff is all yours.”
He watched and thought, She’s cool. She has the eye contact down a little too
pat.
He pulled up the photo file on his cell phone and displayed the shots from Lida’s office. “Know who this is?”
She looked at Rummy’s photo, and her eyes widened slightly. Only a trained eye would spot the glance, and Mike had years of practice.
“Yes. That’s Mr. Dixon. Rumfeld Dixon. He was the CEO before he went rogue.”
Mike knew if he kept her talking, she would eventually tell him what he wanted to hear.
“He’s gone, isn’t he? Something about sending him back in time permanently?”
She lowered her eyes. “He was a genius. He rose from nothing to the CEO of this multi-million dollar company. Much of his work was brilliant and helped many suffering patients. That is, until he got involved in this time-travel crap. Anyhow, he’s out of the picture.”
He rose to leave. “Why is she still crying over his picture?”
“She misses him. They were lovers, you know.”
He just nodded. “Thanks for your help.”
“You bet.”
Mike headed back to his desk to fill in his yellow pad. Under “Motive” he listed, “Lida.”
Chapter 11
TRAWEEK’S SURPRISE was evident. “What happened? Where did he go? What’s going on, Rummy?”
“It’s nothing. Just an illusion.”
“He’s gone. Don’t worry about him.”
“Illusion? What the devil is an illusion?” Maul asked.
“Never heard of that,” Putegnat chimed in.
“Well, it’s a kind of magic,” said Rummy. “You know how those Indians are. He threw a spell on us and then made his escape. He probably went over the wall, using a spell on the guards. He’s long gone, believe me. He’s far away.”
By this time, the rest of the gang arrived and the odor of the eleven tunnelers thickened in the tent. Different than the sweat from the hard labor they shared digging out the tunnel, this sweat had the sour smell of fear.
