Time Trapped

by Richard Ungar

  “All right, everyone,” Abbie says as soon as Judith is back. “We’re going to Headquarters now. As soon as your time freeze thaws, Frank wants to meet with each of you in his office.”

  “Why?” Judith asks.

  “He wants to talk to all of you about the tree incident,” I say.

  Judith looks up and says, “I didn’t see anything.”

  “Well, then tell him that,” I say. “Dmitri and Razor, stay here with me for a moment, please.”

  I watch the others fade and vanish.

  “Dmitri, you first,” I say. “Razor, please wait over there, across the street.”

  She looks where I’m pointing and then says, “I wanna be here when you talk with him.”

  “No. I just want to talk to Dmitri in private for a moment, okay? Your turn will be next.”

  She doesn’t budge.

  “Razor, this doesn’t concern you,” I say, my voice rising.

  “Sure it does. I’m Dim’s lawyer. Anything you say to him you gotta say in front of me,” she says.

  “But you’re not a lawyer. In fact, you are the furthest thing from a lawyer I’ve ever seen.”

  “Wrong again,” she says. “I’m a criminal attorney. I specialize in defending scoundrels, like Dim over here.”

  “I am not a scoundrel,” Dmitri says.

  “You are so,” Razor says. “Look at your shifty eyes. But don’t you worry. I’ll have you off death row in no time. I got the perfect defense. You were insane at the time you committed the crime. In fact, I think you’re still insane now!”

  “Razor, enough!” I snap. “Dmitri, Frank is going to ask you if it was you who moved the tree from China to Times Square. And if you tell him it was you, he’s going to want to know how you did it.”

  “Very well,” Dmitri says. “That does not pose any problems.”

  “And,” I add, “he’ll want to keep you cooped up until you can show him exactly how you did it.”

  “Yeah,” Razor agrees. “It’ll be like being in the slammer, Dim. Lunch will be thin soup and one slice of stale bread. Ask for whole wheat, if they have any.”

  I give her the look of death.

  “I have no problem with sharing my technical knowledge of large object time transport with the senior management,” Dmitri says.

  I try to think of things from his perspective. The problem is that he doesn’t know what Uncle and Frank are really like. He’s never seen them hurt a fly. No wonder he’s not afraid of them.

  “All right, Dmitri. I’m not going to tell you to lie. I suspect they know that you did it by now anyway. But if you pretend that you don’t know how you did it, it might go easier for you.”

  “Yeah, you might get a bit of mystery meat in your soup, Dim,” Razor says, making a slurping sound.

  October 5, 2061, 2:43 P.M.

  Timeless Treasures Headquarters

  Tribeca, New Beijing (formerly New York City)

  All’s quiet when I land under the fire escape in the alley next to Headquarters. The usual city noises are subdued. Maybe it’s a long weekend and everyone’s gone to Jersey. Whatever the reason, I like it this way.

  I watch as Razor and Dmitri clamber up the fire escape and enter Headquarters. I could follow them but that would spoil my sense of peace and quiet. So instead, I linger another minute and then take the long way around to the front entrance.

  As soon as I’m inside the elevator, the doors close and a booming voice shouts out, “Hit the floor and hold your breath!”

  I drop to the floor and cover my head with my hands.

  “It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Phoebe says from the screen above me. She is dressed in one of those protective suits scientists wear when they are dealing with a deadly, contagious virus.

  “What just happened?” I ask.

  “Nothing you need to worry about anymore. But if you like, you can thank me for saving your life.”

  I am having a very confusing day. “How did you save my life?” As soon as I ask, I immediately regret it.

  Phoebe chuckles her know-it-all chuckle. Or is it her you-know-nothing chuckle? I have trouble telling those two apart.

  “I wish I could say. But that’s Top Secret.” She switches to a whisper. “Don’t worry, though; it’s been contained. It will never hurt you unless I let it out. And I would never let it out around someone I like.”

  I’d better not go there.

  “All right,” I say. “Thank you for saving my life, Phoebe. Can you take me up to four, please?”

  “As soon as you say the magic word,” she says.

  “I already said please,” I say, starting to get annoyed.

  There’s that chuckle again. “So you did. But that’s not the magic word.”

  I take a deep breath. Maybe it’s not too late to get my room back at the castle. I’d rather deal with a million winding stone steps right now than an elevator ride with Phoebe.

  “C’mon. Take a guess. Give it your best shot. Be bold!” she says.

  I don’t want to be bold. But I don’t want to stay here forever either. “Haggis,” I say, taking a flier.

  Phoebe’s screen persona removes her mask, and I can see the astonished look on her face.

  “How did you know? I just changed to that password an hour ago. And I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “Just lucky, I guess,” I say. “Can you take me up now?”

  The elevator starts to move.

  “Congratulations!” says Phoebe as we go up.

  “For what?” I ask.

  “For training a winner. Frankly, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Frank gets on my elevator and starts jabbering about one of your recruits—you know, the spaced-out one. Then he tells me to get a new office ready. The nerve. Do I look like a furniture mover to you?”

  The elevator door opens, and I stand there for a moment. I can’t believe it. Frank is actually rewarding Dmitri. Still, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

  “Ahem,” Phoebe says.

  “Yes?” I say.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, this is four. GET OUT!”

  I stumble from the elevator and hit the button on the couch. As I walk down the hall, something Phoebe said niggles at me. There’s a connection that I haven’t made yet. But it feels tantalizingly close.

  “We caught a break,” says Abbie when I enter the lounge.

  “Really? How?” I look around the room. She’s the only senior time snatcher here, along with a couple of newbie trainers.

  “Luca took the glass of Coke, no questions asked,” she says.

  “Well, then, something is up,” I say, lowering my voice.

  “Why do you say that?” Abbie says.

  “Think about it. Two botched snatches. No punishment. That’s not . . . natural.”

  “Yeah, but these days anything is possible,” says Abbie. “It’s like I told you before. Uncle is obsessed with his castle and Scotland. Punishment isn’t top of his list anymore.”

  “Neither is time snatching,” I blurt out.

  “What do you mean?” Abbie says.

  “I mean you are looking at Timeless Treasures’ new head of the Historical Correction Division.”

  “Historical Correction?”

  I nod.

  “What part of history does he want you to correct?” she asks.

  I shrug. “I don’t know yet.”

  “How did Frank react to all of this?”

  “He said he would be happy to work alongside me, blah, blah, blah. But I know he was just saying that because Uncle was there.”

  We both stay quiet for a moment.

  “Did you hear about Dmitri?” I say.

  She shakes her head.

 
“He’s getting a cushy new office.”

  “Hmmm. I hope he can deliver what they want,” Abbie says.

  “Me too.” Things are happening too quickly. If I was ever in control of my life, I’m sure not now. All of the stuff that’s happening around me, with Frank, Uncle, and now Dmitri, is making me really nervous.

  “Uncle sends his regrets,” Luca says. “He had been hoping to but now it appears he will not be able to join us for dinner this evening.”

  No surprise there. He’s probably busy crushing spiders. But more likely, the castle renovations are keeping him away. Maybe he’s putting in a new moat or something. Not that I’m complaining. I find it more relaxing to eat when Uncle’s not around.

  “But even though he can’t join us,” continues Luca, “he gave me an agenda of items he wants covered.”

  So much for a relaxing meal.

  I stare longingly at the buffet table. It’s all-you-can-eat Thai food, which is quite an improvement from the old days when we had to cook for each other. I wish Luca would get on with things so we can go ahead and eat.

  “First, Uncle had a question for you, Caleb,” he says.

  Sighs of relief come from the other time snatchers.

  “Shoot,” I say, which is probably a poor word choice.

  Luca reads off his handheld, “What is the most valuable lesson you learned from your recruits during today’s snatches?”

  Why is he asking that?

  “Do you have any multiple-choice questions instead?” I say. “I do much better on multiple choice.” As soon as I say that, I regret it. Luca isn’t fond of jokes, and I doubt he’ll appreciate my feeble attempt at humor. Still, I need to stall as long as I can, because I can’t think of anything to say.

  “Just answer,” he says predictably.

  “All right,” I say. “The most valuable lesson I learned from my recruits during one of the snatches performed today, the first snatch being Operation High Tea, where we snatched leaves to make pu’er tea and second, Operation Fizz, where—”

  “We know what your assigned snatches were. Hurry and answer, or I’ll write ‘no answer given.’”

  I wonder if “no answer given” is better than “wrong answer given.”

  “Okay,” I say. I’m drawing a blank. The only thing that stands out in my mind is my feeling of absolute terror when the tree almost landed on me. If I hadn’t rolled left, I would have been smushed like a bug.

  “The lesson I learned from my recruits was . . . when it feels like the world is crashing down around you, it important to know which direction to take.”

  Luca looks at me through slitted eyes. I think he’s trying to figure out whether I’m joking or not. Thankfully, after a moment, he turns away and enters something on his handheld.

  “Frank.” Luca looks up. “Uncle also asked if you might say a few words about some of the exciting work you are doing at Headquarters.”

  “Gladly,” says Frank. He stands up and smiles.

  What’s that on his wrist? It looks like a real Rolex. Those don’t come cheap. Why does he even need one? He can read the time off his fingernail like the rest of us.

  “As all of you know,” Frank says, “Uncle is extremely busy. Between dealing with client relations and plotting the strategic direction of Timeless Treasures, he is always on the go. He’s often expressed to me at our weekly breakfast meetings how thankful he is that he has me, his trusted lieutenant, to guide the ship at Headquarters and the Compound while he’s away.”

  So now they’re eating breakfast together.

  “While there are a couple of projects that are too confidential for me to share with you just yet, I can report that Uncle and I are also working on some new technology that you will all soon have access to. For instance, we recently developed an ear patch that will enable the user to hear conversations happening up to a mile away.”

  Wow. A mile away. I wonder if it comes with an app that filters out coughs and sneezes.

  “Another thing that Uncle and I have been discussing is a built-in GPS enhancement to your ocular implants so that by blinking, you will be able to switch modes from night vision to a map of your physical location.”

  Now there’s something I could use. Still, if he says “Uncle and I” one more time, I think I’m going to puke.

  “And those are only a couple of the projects we’re working on. I’m also looking at ways to streamline our main time-snatching operations to make Timeless Treasures a leaner and meaner organization.”

  Hold on. Uncle has just taken in a new bunch of recruits. Is Frank saying that we don’t need them all?

  He sits down and as he does, he gives me a look that says, “I don’t care that Uncle appointed you as new division head. I’m still much more important than you’ll ever be.”

  “Thank you, Frank,” says Luca. “Everyone can eat now.”

  I jump from my seat, happy to be out of there. I pile my plate up with pad Thai noodles, ginger fried chicken and papaya salad and am on my way back to the table when I see Luca give his handheld to Frank. Frank gazes at the screen for a moment, presses some keys and hands it right back. What was that all about?

  I manage to get my first few bites in before Luca says, “Since you are all here, I may as well brief you on tomorrow’s missions. All teams will have a morning snatch. There will be no afternoon mission. Instead you are to continue with training sessions in the Yard. Caleb and Abbie, your team’s mission will to be to snatch an object that led to one of the greatest discoveries of all time.”

  Let me guess. He’s sending us to steal the thing that puts the cream filling in Oreo cookies.

  “You are to go to 1666 England and the home of Sir Isaac Newton’s mother,” says Luca, reading from his handheld. “On April 17 of that year, Sir Isaac was out in the garden when he saw an apple falling from a tree, which led him to discover gravity. Your mission is to snatch that apple.”

  I thought the whole apple-falling-from-the-tree thing was just a made-up story. I guess I was wrong.

  “Uncle has asked that you use the opportunity of this mission to impress upon the recruits some of the principles he taught during your recent outing with him. Specifically, he mentioned ‘seeing with your mind’ and ‘intelligent observation.’”

  It’s a nice thought, but I’ve got a hard enough time trying to keep Razor and Dmitri in line, let alone trying to teach them Uncle’s principles.

  I think back over the day. Two far from perfect snatches and no punishment. I don’t need intelligent observation to tell me that sooner or later, no matter how sweet, every lucky streak comes to a sour end.

  April 17, 1666, 2:31 P.M.

  Woolsthorpe Manor

  Lincolnshire, England

  Operation Gravity

  Ouch! A million tiny needles pierce my body. All right, maybe just five or six. But it feels like a million. I had programmed my patch to land behind some bushes . . . not inside them.

  When I’m finally able to move, I pluck the thorns from my shirtsleeves and pants. About a hundred yards away is the snatch zone, Woolsthorpe Manor.

  “What are your new digs like, Dim?” I hear Razor say. “Did they give you CoffeeValet?”

  I snort. Even Uncle doesn’t have CoffeeValet, the latest in premium intravenous coffee drips.

  “I am not supposed to talk about my appointment,” Dmitri says. There’s a certain smugness in his tone that I’ve never heard before.

  “Well, excuse me for living,” Razor says. “Just remember, Dim. None of that would be yours without me.”

  “What do you mean?” he says.

  “Do the math, Dim. Whose idea was it to move the tree? And who got you the supplies you needed to do it?”

  Dmitri sets his lips in a thin line and says nothing.

  “We’re about to move to the snatch zone, guys,” I
say. “Do you all remember your roles?”

  “Yes,” Judith says. “I will stay with you in the garden and compose sonnets.”

  “Gnome,” Razor says under her breath.

  “What was that, Razor?” I say.

  “I was thinking about Alaska. I always wanted to go to Nome. D’ya think if we ace this snatch, Uncle will let us go there, you know, as a kind of reward?” She gives me her best fake sweet smile.

  “Gerhard?” I ask.

  “I will be standing near apple tree number one, ready to grab any apple that falls.”

  “Good,” I say. “Dmitri?”

  No answer. He has a faraway look in his eyes.

  “Earth to Dmitri,” I say.

  “Y . . . yes?”

  “Your station, Dmitri. Where will you be?”

  “In the garden, in the vicinity of apple tree number two,” he says.

  “Correct,” I say. “And your job?”

  “To wait,” he says.

  “For?”

  “For the apple to fall.”

  “Razor?”

  “Here I am,” she chirps.

  “You will stay with me,” I say, and before she can object, I add, “Abbie will be stationed inside the house, in case Sir Isaac takes the apple inside. Let’s go, everyone.”

  I’m feeling pretty good about things. Abbie’s right. The only way to deal with Razor is to take a firm line. Maybe she’s finally starting to respect me. I take a deep breath and let my shoulders relax.

  The afternoon is glorious. There’s a light breeze blowing in the garden when we arrive. The air carries a slight scent of lilac. Under the shade of a big oak is a wagon whose doors have been painted in reds and greens. “MayFair Puppet Company” is painted in gilded letters on its side. That’s strange; the briefing materials didn’t say anything about a puppet play.

  About two dozen chairs face the puppet theater in rows. Guests stroll about the garden, admiring the different varieties of flowering plants. A man dressed in a black waistcoat wanders among them, offering glasses of fresh julep.

  “This is delightful,” says Abbie, smoothing her hair. She’s looking very stylish in a silk and lace gown trimmed with silver thread. Come to think of it, I can’t remember a mission where Abbie didn’t look stylish. I watch her head for the house and when she’s out of sight, I shift my eyes to the puppet stage. A man is standing in front of it, twirling the ends of his mustache. His long dark hair falls in loose curls almost to his shoulders.