by Ben Jeapes
Did the helicopter swerve slightly? Rico kept an eye on the two pilots. They glanced at each other and said something, but he couldn't hear what. Through the seat of his pants he felt the machine give a couple of experimental wiggles as they tested the controls. Yes, they had felt something, but hopefully a mid-air interception by a flying woman from the future wouldn't have occurred to them and they would put it down to mechanical causes, to be looked into the next time they landed.
'I'm here, Garron, and it's bloody uncomfortable,' Su symbed.
'Hang on,' he symbed back, and was taken aback by the sheer, livid fury in her reply.
'What do you think I'm doing? I'm—'
'The first thing,' Rico said out loud, 'is to take out these goons. Mr Scott, you sit tight for the time being. Mr Daiho, when I give the word, you take the one next to you. I'll be responsible for the other one – I can get these cuffs off in no time. Count of three: one, two . . .'
The Home Timers were staring at him without even thinking of moving: the guards were looking unconcerned out of the window.
'Take out?' Daiho said, as if Rico had suggested he fly to the moon. Rico smiled.
'Forget it,' he said. 'Just testing.' So, the guards didn't speak their language. That was a start.
'Do you have a plan?' Scott said scornfully, apparently dismissing Rico's earlier advice about silence. Rico just looked at him coolly, silently, just long enough to get Scott thinking that maybe it had been good advice after all.
'Rico . . .'
'I hear you, Su. It would be lovely if you could join us.'
Su Zo had swung her legs up and wrapped them around the helicopter's skid, locking the suit there for good measure. Now she pulled herself upright, hand over hand, through the freezing gale of black air. Release glove. Move hand, take new grip. Lock glove. Release other glove, take new grip . . . It was slow and uncomfortable but it was sure. She had set her agrav to support only, cancelling forward motion: it would save her if she fell but it could never catch up with the helicopter again. So, don't fall.
'I'm standing,' she symbed. 'With you in a moment.'
Her feet were planted on the skid and she was leaning against the helicopter's sleek fuselage. Up here there were fewer things to hold on to, which made things more problematic. At least she could see and breathe: the suit had grown a transparent mask across her face to protect her from the rush of air and the burning blast of the engine's exhausts. She inched her way forward until her hand was on the door and peeked through the window. The two bygoner guards Rico had told her about were the nearest passengers to her.
'Playback,' she ordered her suit, and in a corner of her vision it displayed the movements she had just programmed in.
'Instructions confirmed,' she said. 'Rico, I'm coming in . . . now.'
With one yank she had the door open and the gale blasted into the interior of the helicopter. Su let her whole body go limp as the fieldsuit took over. She felt her wrists lock on the edge of the door, the suit tightened around her, and her whole body swung round and into the cabin. Her feet together caught the rear-facing guard on the side of the head and knocked him back.
Rico sprang forward between Scott and Daiho and brought his arms over the head of the right hand pilot, pulling back so that the chain of the cuffs pressed against the man's throat. Momentum had carried Su into the cabin and the other guard was fumbling for his stunner. The suit returned control of her own body and she raised a hand towards him. A stun charge from her fingertips struck him in the chest and he crumpled, sagging in his seat.
Su reached out and pulled the door shut, then turned back. Rico winked at her.
'Great! Now get these cuffs off me.'
First, Su picked up one of the stunners and gave it to the nearest Home Timer. Who, she saw with a sudden shock, was Daiho.
'Long story,' Rico said.
She thrust the stunner into Daiho's hand. 'Just point it at the pilots,' she said. 'Let go, Rico.'
Rico lifted his arms up and released the neck of the pilot. 'Just keep flying,' he ordered in English. 'Keep your hands on the controls and nowhere else. Come round to bearing two hundred and forty degrees, height two hundred feet.' The helicopter began to bank. 'You, guy on the left, put your hands on your head.'
The co-pilot did as he was told. Su was checking the pockets of the two unconscious guards. She found the key and quickly released Rico; then they put the cuffs on the guards, binding them to their seats. Rico took the stunner from Daiho and Su picked the other off the ground. They looked at each other.
'Thanks,' Rico said with a warm, quiet smile.
'Are there any more of you?' Daiho asked. Su looked at him askance.
'You're meant to be dead,' she said.
'But as you can see, I'm not.'
'It was a clone,' Rico said. 'A sentient, self-aware clone,' he added, just to make sure she was getting it.
'Sentient?' Su looked at the man in horror. 'You made it sentient? You . . . you . . .'
'Are an accessory to murder and kidnap,' Rico said, 'and you're going to face the authorities back home.'
'Not with what I have in my head,' Daiho said calmly
'Kidnap?' said Scott. 'What do you mean, kidnap?'
Rico glared at him. 'Those two kids, and thanks for reminding me. Su, get your agrav off. I'm going to need it.'
'We are now at recall point,' said their suits together.
'Cut speed and hover,' Rico ordered the pilots. 'Hold this position.'
Su was looking round and doing a head count. 'You said there were five of them.'
'The other two are back at the hotel and Asaldra is God knows where. With two agravs, I can at least get the kids back to the recall point.' The helicopter rocked slightly. 'I said, hold position!' Rico snapped.
'Windy,' the pilot said nervously, glancing back over his shoulder.
'Do what you can.'
'Yes, sir!'
'What will you do with the equipment?' Daiho said. Rico looked blankly at him.
'Destroy it, of course,' he said.
'You can't!'
'Oh, I think I can . . .'
'Rico,' said Su, 'it's not worth it. We'll be home in five minutes, and then we can just send a general recall. It'll get them and the equipment too. They'll be back in the Home Time thirty seconds after we are.'
Su held his gaze, and Rico reluctantly had to admit she was right.
Scott sat back comfortably in his seat, stretched his legs and put his hands behind his head. 'Those two kids, as you call them,' he said, 'work for me. I think you'll find their contracts allow me to take them where I want and do with them what I will. The era in which they work isn't specified. I broke no laws.'
'Unauthorized transferences . . .' Rico said.
'I authorized them,' said Daiho.
'Making contact with bygoners . . .'
'Again, something that someone at Commissioner level can do.'
'Did you order Asaldra—'
'Mr Asaldra,' Scott corrected.
'— to make contact with a correspondent?'
'Of course,' said Daiho.
'And that's not illegal?' Rico was beginning to feel desperate.
'Actually, no. Unusual, but not illegal.'
'By the way,' Scott said, with an enormous smile on his face, 'thank you for getting us out of the bygoners' hands.'
Rico's jaw tensed and he turned back to Daiho.
'Did you order Mr Asaldra not just to make contact but to reveal the truth about the Home Time to a correspondent? To let the correspondent know that recall is possible?'
Daiho's smile became fixed. 'No,' he said, 'but that didn't happen, did it? There would be witnesses.'
'I witnessed their conversation,' Rico growled.
'We have your word for that, yes, but that's all.'
'I recorded it on my field computer!' Rico shouted.
'When we get back to the Home Time and this little matter comes to the tribunal you'll no doubt insist on,
I think you'll find you didn't.'
'Almost definite, I'd say,' Scott commented. 'After all, Op Garron, you're not very good with field computers, are you?'
'Why, you . . .' Rico took a step forward and Su had to step in his way.
'It's almost time for recall,' she said. 'Will you both please stand up. Remember that we'll arrive home in the same position as we leave this time, so sitting down won't be very comfortable.'
With an insouciant ease which made Rico's teeth stand on edge, the two men undid their buckles and slowly stood up. The helicopter was still rocking and they had to put arms out to balance themselves.
'Please, Op Garron, believe me,' said Daiho. His voice suddenly held quiet, rock-steady conviction. 'It may seem to you that we've stepped outside the law, but what we've been doing has been for the good of the entire Home Time. Everyone will be grateful to us, and that includes you.'
'Somehow, I'm not interested in people like you deciding what's good for me,' Rico snapped. 'And there's still the matter of murder, isn't there? That clone might have had the mind of a baby, or maybe you implanted it with just enough of your brainwaves to give the forensics people the idea that it was you, but—'
'I would have been prepared to lay down my life for the Home Time,' said Daiho. 'Therefore, so would that clone. Therefore, what happened was voluntary suicide.'
'You can't be serious,' Rico said in amazement, but then he saw the look of firm conviction on Daiho's face. 'Good God. You believe that, don't you? You really can use a clever little lawyer's argument to absolve yourself of all moral guilt. So much for the noble patrician.' He shook his head, not in doubt but as if to shake the revulsion of the sudden insight from his memory. 'Well, we'll see what they say when it comes to trial.'
'You keep talking about this trial,' Scott said, 'but let's face it, you really don't have any evidence, do you? For . . . well, anything, really. Unless . . .' He had to grab the back of a seat as the helicopter reeled again, which rather spoilt his superior air. 'Unless you interview the correspondent,' he added with a laugh.
The look on Rico's face wiped the smile from Scott's own.
'Rico!' Su warned him, loudly, but she needn't have worried.
'Mr Scott,' Rico said quietly, almost in awe, 'I could almost kiss you. But I won't.' Instead he grabbed Su's shoulders and gave her a kiss on each cheek. 'Hold the fort,' he said, and pulled the door open. The wind blew into the cabin again.
'Where are you going?'
'To get the evidence,' Rico said, his eyes agleam. He grinned at Scott. 'Thank you so much.'
'For what?' Scott took a step forward. 'This has gone far enough, Garron. Just face the fact that you have bungled . . .'
It seemed to happen in slow motion. The helicopter took another buffeting from the wind; Scott stumbled forward towards the open door and stretched out a hand to catch himself, but with the door open there was nothing to hold on to and with a shriek he fell into the night.
'Shit!' Rico bellowed and dived into the dark after him. His night vision showed a wriggling, screaming Scott plunging down to the waves and he symbed the instructions to his agrav to dive after the man. He plunged head first, hands by his side, down towards the sea, then to his amazement felt his rate of descent suddenly slow.
'No!' he bellowed. 'Keep diving . . .'
It was too late: Phenuel Scott smashed into the freezing water. A few seconds later Rico drifted across the seething mass of bubbles where Scott had splashed down. A man's dark outline showed through the froth, and Rico didn't need his fieldsuit's sensors to tell him that there was no hope.
The shock of impact with the bitterly cold water would have killed him straight off.
'What the hell were you doing?' he shouted.
'This unit could not permit the operative's intended course of action.'
'I could have saved him . . .'
'Incorrect. You could have reached him before he hit the water, but your combined momentum would be too much for this unit to overcome.'
The fieldsuit was probably right, Rico realized angrily, floating above the waves. No – not probably, it was right. He and Scott would have died together.
He swore for a very long time, then looked back up at the helicopter.
'Too late,' he symbed.
A pause. 'Are you coming back, then?' Su said. 'We'll recall any moment . . .'
'Pick me up with the general recall,' Rico said.
'Do what? Where are you going?'
'Mr Scott was exactly right,' Rico said, and told his agrav to fly back to the cliffs.
Twenty-one
Alan was propped against the lounge window sill with his arms crossed, idly supervising the two Home Time youngsters dismantling their equipment, when he realized he had been hearing a helicopter hovering nearby for a quite unreasonable time now. He pulled back a curtain and glanced out of the lounge window. The lights of the machine hovered over the sea a quarter, perhaps half a mile away. He frowned, but let the curtain drop back down again. Internal Security were a law unto themselves and what they did with their helicopters was up to them. The helicopter that counted, the one with the prisoners on it, should be miles away by now.
He turned back to his main task and his hungry gaze feasted on the prize from the future. This could be used. There was real potential for . . .
Then he stood up straight and anyone looking in his direction would have seen the first look of surprise to cross his face for a very long time.
He recovered quickly.
'Get out,' he said to the BioCarr guards. None of them budged. Alan walked up to the nearest one – a hulking, large man who dwarfed him – and looked up into his face from a distance of a few inches.
'I said, get out, if you want a job to come back to tomorrow morning,' Alan said. The guard looked stonily at him, then glanced up at his fellows and shrugged. They filed out, leaving Alan alone with the two kids. They hadn't understood the words but they had picked up the tone and were looking at him nervously.
Alan shut the door and turned to face the French windows.
'They're gone,' he said.
The French windows opened and a ghost walked in – a shimmering, rippling outline of a human being. Then abruptly the distortion vanished and a man was standing there in a dark grey, one-piece suit that covered him from his feet to the top of his head. Even the face was covered with a kind of mask.
The hood and mask pulled back of their own volition, vanishing into the suit's collar, letting Alan see the newcomer's face.
'I was right,' he said. 'You're not a hotel steward.'
'No,' Rico said. 'Thank you for saving my life, by the way.'
'And you are?'
'Field Operative Ricardo Garron. You?'
'Call me Alan.'
The two looked at each other for a moment longer.
'How did you know?' Alan said.
'I'm good, I'm damn good, but you still spotted me,' Rico said. 'I know I didn't do a thing you could have picked up on. So, you must have recognized me. But even then, Paris was a long time ago for you – something must have tipped you off in the first place.' He indicated the equipment with a nod of his head. 'And, of course, that gear over there broadcasts on the correspondents' frequency. QED.'
'I turned my back on the Home Time a long time ago,' Alan said.
'I don't blame you. Some of us don't have that luxury. Any particular reason?'
'That man Asaldra,' Alan said. 'He used me, he lied to me . . . and I decided I would do everything in my power to frustrate his little plans. I don't know what they are—'
'You and me both.'
'—but I'm going to make sure they don't work.'
'And where is Asaldra now?'
'Somewhere safe, where he's telling us all about everything. The right drugs and it all comes pouring out.'
One more job for the Specifics, Rico thought. 'It won't do you any good,' he said. 'My friend has taken over that machine out there. Another five minutes and every
one in it goes back home. And then my colleagues come in, extract Asaldra and make sure none of this ever happened. But you can still help foil Asaldra's little plans.'
Alan didn't look disappointed – he had learned that lesson way back – but by now every ounce of humanity, of emotion, had vanished from his face. 'How?' he said.
'Testify. Tell me everything Asaldra did. I'll broadcast it to my friend and the testimony will go back to the Home Time. They can't cover that up.'
'You're some kind of policeman?'
'Under the circumstances, yes.'
Alan held Rico's gaze for a moment longer. 'You're from the Home Time too. Why should I trust you?'
'Count the options.'
Another pause . . .
'My designation,' Alan said, 'is RC/1029. My mission began on the thirteenth of May, 1029 AD, in the Persian desert ten miles from Isfahan. I was first contacted by the man I now know as Hossein Asaldra that evening . . .'
'You get all that, Su?'
'I got it. Beautiful job.' Su glanced at her fellow passengers, keeping her expression calm and cool. The two guards had woken up and were still dazed. Daiho was gazing into space.
'How much longer?' he asked without looking at her.
'Any moment now,' Su said as the countdown from her fieldsuit entered single figures.
'Your friend had better get back if he's going to make it.'
Su felt the field take hold of them, felt the disorientation at the fringes of her consciousness.
'This is it, Rico. See you soon.'
'See you, Su.'
And the transference chamber materialized around them.
'Zero,' said the voice in Rico's head. He turned to look outside. The helicopter, which had all the while been hovering, speared by searchlights – someone on the ground had finally had their curiosity piqued by the machine hovering beyond the cliffs – suddenly lurched to one side and banked down towards the hotel.
He turned back to his new friend.
