by Simon Hawke
Slowly. McLaury put away his gun and turned around, with his hands held out from his sides.
“Okay? Now if you stand aside, Doc, we’ll be going. Come on, Ross.”
Demming shot a hard look at Neilson. “This isn’t over, Kid. Not by a long shot. You hear me. yellowbelly? It isn’t over!”
“Right now it is,” said Holliday. “Now git!”
The two men went past him and out into the street. Neilson exhaled heavily as Holliday backed over to their table, then holstered his nickel plated Colt.
“Thanks,” said Scott.
“Don’t mention it,” Holliday replied. “Evening Jenny.”
“Doc, was I ever glad to see you!” she said.
Holliday smiled thinly. “Always a pleasure to see you too, honey.” He looked up as Wyatt Earp came in. “Well, howdy, Wyatt. We almost had us some excitement here just now.”
“I know.” said Wyatt, grimly. “Virg and Morg just took Frank and Ross to jail for carryin’ their guns in town. What happened here?”
“They came in looking for the Kid.” said Doc. “I heard Demming threaten to shoot him in the back.”
“He’s right, Wyatt.” Jenny said. “The Kid and I were talking and those two came in. looking for trouble. Ross wanted to kill him. And he would have, if it hadn’t been for Doc.”
Wyatt Earp gave Neilson a hard look. “I knew you were going to be trouble,” he said.
“I was only having dinner, Marshal,” Scott said. “I didn’t do a thing.”
“I want you on the next stage out of town.” said Wyatt.
“I haven’t broken any laws. Mr. Earp. Unless it’s against the law to have men threaten you while you’re eating dinner.”
“Don’t sass me, son. I haven’t got the patience for it.”
“I’m not carrying a gun, Marshal. I’m obeying the law, just like your brother told me to. I haven’t done anything to be run out of town for.”
“There’s no reason for you to stay around.” said Wyatt. “And I can think of lots of reasons for you to leave. Next time. Doc might not be there to protect you.”
“I’m obliged to Mr. Holliday,” said Scott. “But I’ve still got some business here in town. And I haven’t broken any laws. Those cowboys did. They’re the ones you should be running out of town.”
“They’ll be leavin’, soon as they’ve paid their fines,” said Wyatt. “And I don’t need you to tell me my job. I know what business you have here and it’s trouble.”
“Your brother said that I could ask around and try to find out what happened to my friends; said Neilson. “That’s all I was doing, Marshal. Asking. I told you. I don’t want any trouble. Not with you and not with anybody else, either.”
Wyatt stared at him for a long moment_ Neilson met his gaze.
“The next stage leaves at noon tomorrow.” Wyatt said. “If you’re smart, Kid, you’ll be on it.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Jenny.
He turned around and left.
“If I were you. Kid. I’d do as he said,” said Holliday.
“I haven’t done anything wrong, Mr. Holliday. Or is that how you people do things here in Tombstone? Fine the outlaws a few dollars, but run law-abiding people out of town?”
Holliday shook his head. ‘You’ve got Wyatt wrong. He’s only trying to do his job. And he’s looking out for you, as well.”
“I can look out for myself.”
“Is that right? Tell me, what would you have done if I hadn’t come along when I did?”
Scott looked up at him, then made a quick movement with his wrists, crossing them and pulling two slim throwing knives from concealed sheaths strapped to his forearms, turning quickly in his chair and hurling them. They stuck in the wall by the entryway, exactly where Frank McLaury and Ross Demming had stood.
Jenny gasped, as did a number of other people in the dining room. Someone invoked the Lord’s name, softly, and there was an undertone of excited murmuring.
Holliday stared at the knives. You seem to be a young man of many talents,” he said. “You practice that back on the farm, as well?”
“There a law against carrying knives in Tombstone?” Scott asked him.
“Not to my knowledge,” Holliday replied. He walked over and pulled the knives out of the wall. He examined them before he gave them back to Neilson. “Clever-lookin’ things. Never seen any like ’em before.”
Neilson slipped them back into their sheaths. “I had them made special.”
Holliday nodded. “Maybe it’s too bad that I came in when I did. I’ve never seen two men dropped with knives at the same time before. You got any other tricks up your sleeve?”
“If I have to leave town, you might never find out,” said Scott.
Holliday coughed several times. “I’ll speak with Wyatt. See if I can get him to back off a bit. I have a feeling that having you around might prove to be quite interesting. Quite interesting, indeed. Be seein’ you, Kid. You too, Jenny.”
“‘Bye. Doc,” she said. Her eyes were shining as she looked at Neilson. “I’ve never seen anything like the way you threw those knives in my whole life!” she said. He felt her foot rubbing up against his leg under the table. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Neilson cleared his throat. “Waiter? Check, please.”
2
Neilson looked a little green around the gills as he stood in the private quarters of General Moses Forrester in the TAC-HQ building at Pendleton Base, California. Part of his ill feeling was due to what was known as “warp lag,” the effects of traveling through time. Some people got used to it, others never did. Even veteran time travelers occasionally puked their guts out after temporal transition. Most everyone at least felt dizzy and queasy in the stomach. Complicating the situation was the fact that Neilson was in the presence of the Old Man himself
Forrester was a large man, built like a bull, with a massive chest and arms that were as big as Neilson’s thighs. Even at his advanced age-and no One knew precisely what his age was-he could still run a marathon, do fifty pull-ups without pausing and curl an eighty-pound dumbbell with one hand. His face looked positively ancient. It was lined and wrinkled and he was completely bald. His bright green eyes. However, looked youthful and alert.
Also present in Forrester’s quarters were Colonel Lucas Priest, Captain Andre Cross and Major Finn Delaney. Priest, as usual, looked smartly turned out in his sharply creased black base fatigues and highly polished boots. Dark-haired, slim and very fit; he was a handsome, thoroughly professional looking officer. By contrast, the burly Delaney looked like an unkempt longshoreman. He looked about as military as an old sweat sock. His base fatigues were rumpled, his boots were unshined, his dark red hair was uncombed and his full beard gave him the aspect of a drunken Irish poet. His facial expression, even when neutral, conveyed a wry insolence that had often provoked senior officers throughout his military career. That, together with his insubordinate nature, was one of the reasons why he held the record for the most reductions in grade in the entire Temporal Corps. He also held the record for the most promotions, due to exemplary service in the field. Lucas Priest had often chided him about it, saying that if it wasn’t for his temper, he would have surely been a general by now, to which Delaney always responded with an irate scowl. At heart, he was a noncom and had always detested officers. And now he was a major. The rank did not sit well with him. He still felt funny being saluted.
Andre Cross sat between the two men on the couch, looking less like a soldier than a model hired to pose for a recruiting poster. Her straw-blonde hair was long and straight, falling to her shoulders, and her sharp, angular features were more striking than pretty. She had the physique of a bodybuilder, with long legs, a narrow waist, small hips and broad shoulders. Neilson had always thought that there was something catlike about her, in the way she moved and in the way she held herself.
Their presence made him feel somewhat more at ease, as he had served with them once before on a mission in the past, that as
signment to Victorian London where half the mission team had died. People who had gone through something like that together achieved a special camaraderie that only other soldiers could fully understand. But the Old Man still had Neilson feeling a bit shaky in the knees. It felt a little strange standing before them, dressed the way he’d been in Tombstone. Almost as if he were a boy playing dress-up in a roomful of adults.
As soon as he’d clocked in and made his report. Forrester’s adjutant had decided that “the Old Man should hear about this.” And Forrester had summoned the others, the agency’s number-one temporal adjustment team. Neilson had just finished briefing them on what he had discovered when he had clocked out to check on Observer Outpost G-6898. And now he stood at parade rest, awaiting their response.
“At ease, Sergeant, — said Forrester. “Have a seat, please.”
Neilson took one of the living room chairs.
“What do you think?” asked Forrester, addressing the others.
“If Neilson thinks those Observers were killed by laser fire. I’m not inclined to question it.” said Delaney. “He doesn’t leap to hasty conclusions. Of course, we won’t know that for a fact unless we send an S amp;R Team back to exhume the bodies, but under the circumstances, I’m not sure if we should risk that.”
“I agree.” said Lucas, nodding. “If we’ve got an infiltration in that time sector, they could be on the watch for that. The Observers blew their cover and the opposition, whoever they are, probably know where they’re buried. They could be keeping their graves under surveillance, waiting for a Search amp; Retrieve team to clock back for them.”
“It wouldn’t be very hard to keep Tombstone’s Boot Hill under surveillance, sir.” Neilson added. “A small remote unit concealed nearby would do it.”
“I’m a little disturbed about the fact that Scott has become involved in the scenario to the extent that he has,” said Andre. “I don’t mean that as a criticism. It looks as if the situation just turned out that way. But as a result, he’s become highly visible.”
“Maybe,” said Lucas, “but we could turn that to our advantage. If he’s going to attract attention, we can stay in the background and see just what kind of attention he attracts.”
“Which is another way of saying we can use him as a Judas goat.” said Andre. “I don’t like it. It leaves him very vulnerable.”
“None of us are paid to play it safe. Andre.” said Delaney. “Besides, Scott can take care of himself. And we’ll be there to provide backup.”
“That’s always assuming that we’ll have the chance to do that,” Andre replied. “We don’t know what we’re going up against. That particular scenario doesn’t seem to have a great deal of temporal significance offhand, but if there’s a confluence point somewhere in that sector and agents of the S. 0. G. have crossed over from the parallel timeline, it would be an important staging area for them. We’d be at a disadvantage. They’d know where the confluence point was and have control of it. We’d be going in cold with no idea where it might be located.”
“On the other hand, maybe it’s not the S.O.G.,” said Delaney. “Maybe those Observers stumbled onto a Network operation. That would seem more likely, considering that Tombstone was a mining boomtown in that period. Scott said there had been some stage robberies with shipments of bullion stolen. That’s just the sort of thing the Network would be into. Hijack silver bullion from Arizona in the 1880s, sell it in some future period when it hits its peak market value or trade it for some other commodities and pyramid the profits. Security back then would have been a joke, at least to people with resources like the Network has. It would be a prime scenario for temporal speculation. If it is the Network, then it’s all the more reason for Neilson to stay highly visible. They’ll be expecting someone to clock back to check on what happened to those Observers. Neilson can help draw their attention away from us.
“And maybe get himself killed while he’s at it.” Andre said. “I think it’s too dangerous. Not only for Scott, but for the temporal continuity in that sector. Look, by his own admission, he’s already become involved with people like the Earp brothers and Doc Holliday. And he’s managed to get himself caught right between the Clanton faction and the Earps. He could unintentionally wind up causing a disruption in the events leading up to the shoot-out at the O.K. Corral.”
“Actually, the shoot-out didn’t take place at the O.K. Corral.” said Neilson. “It took place in the vacant lot between Fly’s Boarding House and the Harwood place. The O.K. Corral was about ninety feet farther down the street, with only its back entrance leading out to Fremont Street, where the gunfight actually ended.”
“What difference does it make?” asked Andre, impatiently.
“I think it makes a great deal of difference.” said Forrester. “Neilson is the perfect man for this assignment He’s got all the right qualifications. He’s well versed in the history of the period and he’s an expert with the weapons of the period, as well. His cover as a gunfighter couldn’t be more perfect. He’s tailor-made for the role I’m against pulling him out. I’m with Finn and Lucas on this one. Andre There’s a risk, but I think it’s justified. I’m leaving Neilson in.”
“Thank you. sir.” said Scott.
“You sure you’re up to this, son?” asked Forrester. “You look a bit worn out.”
“I, uh, didn’t get much sleep, sir. I’ll be fine. I can handle. it.”
Forrester nodded, “All right. What about this situation with you and Wyatt Earp? Is that going to be a problem?”
“I hope not, sir I think he’s just concerned about keeping order in town and I look like a disruptive influence to him. But Doc Holliday said he’d try to intercede for me and the two of them are very close. Bat Masterson also seems to like me. Of course, he won’t be in Tombstone much longer after I get back. He’ll be called back to Dodge City to help out his brother. And the Earps are going to have their hands full with other problems before long. I don’t think they’ll have a lot of time to worry about me. Especially if I keep my nose clean.”
“That’s just the question.” Andre said. “Keeping out of trouble might be hard to do with the rustlers out gunning for you
“Maybe,” Neilson said. “But I’ll do what I can to stay out of their way. And I’ll try to ingratiate myself with the Earps in any way I can. The way things are developing in Tombstone back in that scenario, they’re going to need all the help they can get.”
“The only trouble is you may wind up giving them more help than they’re supposed to get.” said Andre. “And you’re also faster with a gun and a much better shot than just about anyone who lived back then. How do we keep you from becoming famous as the Montana Kid, fastest gun in the West?”
“That’s the very least of our problems,” Forrester said, before Neilson could reply. “It’s nothing Archives Section couldn’t handle. It would be time consuming, but we could easily assign a team to make sure that the Montana Kid remains unknown to history. Our first priority is to determine the nature of what’s happening back there. Is it the Network, engaged in one of their clandestine operations, or is it an infiltration through an undiscovered confluence point by agents of the S.O.G.? If that’s the case, we could be faced with a situation similar to what happened in the Khyber Pass in 1897. It could be a prelude to a full-scale invasion from the parallel timeline. Compared to that, any minor disruption Neilson’s presence could bring about would be insignificant. “
“Let’s not forget Drakov.” Lucas said, softly, feeling that he had to bring that up, but hating to. Forrester was plagued with guilt and self-recrimination over what his son had become. “He’s always the Wild card. And we still haven’t tracked down all his clones, or the genetically engineered hominoids he’s scattered throughout history.”
Forrester nodded, grimly. “Yes, we can’t afford to overlook him, either.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. “The trouble is, we need to capture him alive, so we can track down all his clon
es. That won’t be easy, but it’s the only way we can be certain that we’ve got the original Nikolai Drakov. Only the original would know where all the copies are.”
Forrester never referred to Drakov as his son. Privately, it had to be an agony for him. Years ago, when Forrester had been a rookie serving his first hitch in Minus Time, he’d been injured and separated from his unit. Unable to clock back, he had believed that he was trapped forever in the past. He had been found and nursed back to health by a Russian gypsy girl with whom he fell in love. He was later found and rescued, but by that time. Vanna Drakova was already pregnant with their child.
Forester had broken all the rules and he had made the situation worse by keeping Vanna’s pregnancy a secret, he knew if he reported it, it would have been necessary for the child to be aborted and he had not been able to bring himself to do that to the girl he loved. Or to the child. The result was that he went back to the future, after trying to explain to Vanna as best he could exactly who and what he was and why he had to leave her, and the necessity for her never to reveal that knowledge to anybody else.
But the simple gypsy girl had not been able to grasp the meaning of everything he told her. The concept of temporal physics was beyond her and when young Nikolai became curious about who his father was, the story she had told him was a bizarre mixture of truth and fantasy, richly embroidered with her colorful imagination. The poor boy hadn’t understood and was left believing that he was the result of a supernatural union between his mother and some kind of demon. Unknowingly, his mother had traumatized him deeply and the harsh lives that they led as Nikolai grew up had only served to make things worse.
They were taken in by a young Russian officer and they had lived through Napoleon’s invasion and his disastrous retreat. Then Nikolai’s adoptive father had been arrested as a Decembrist and exiled to Siberia. They had followed him there and it was in that harsh, forbidding country that Vanna met her death at the hands of a savage rapist, who had given young Nikolai the knife scar on his face when he tried to go to her defense. With her death, Nikolai Drakov had been left all alone in the world, frightened and tormented by the question of his own existence.
