Borrowed Time- the Force Majeure

by E W Barnes

  “Millions, no billions of submissions and suggestions and you think they will include one made by three people?” Sharon snorted. “No way.”

  “Actually, that might work,” Miranda said. “Remember, the email that started all this in 2127 referenced a debt due, a debt apparently shared by everyone on the planet. Which means the debt was incurred before 2127 but after the Alexander Event in 2121. Even if knowledge of the debt and payment was buried in our history, world citizens and the drafters of the resolutions would still remember it. A request for a provision to protect debtors might be very persuasive.”

  “But the debt might already have been incurred,” Sharon said. “How can the resolution retroactively apply to something that will have already happened?”

  “We’ll include that in the proposed resolution language,” Miranda said.

  “All we need to do is make the request and then shift back?” Sharon asked. It seemed too easy.

  “I think so,” Caelen answered.

  Sharon exhaled. Perhaps the solution to the whole mess was within reach after all.

  What could go wrong?

  ◆◆◆

  In the short time before the shift to 2126 Sharon cleaned up her hand again. It wasn’t getting better, and the redness was spreading. She slathered on more antibacterial cream and replenished the supply to take with her, promising herself the moment they returned, she would see a doctor.

  Over a hurried lunch, Caelen explained that the World Government Conference would take place in the CERN complex where time travel had been discovered. He said it was a symbolic decision, signifying how the discovery of time travel had changed the world.

  It helped that they were already familiar with the facility that would someday be the above-ground entrance to the TPC’s headquarters.

  They programmed the shift to place them outside the building in the early morning. They would use the public terminals placed inside to submit their requests for the resolutions. Then they would shift back and hope they were finally successful.

  “To encourage everyone to participate, the terminals were open for 24 hours a day for weeks. Even in the early morning there will be people in the building, submitting their requests,” Caelen said. “We should be able to blend in, submit the requested provisions and then get out.”

  Miranda walked them through the exact wording they needed for the request, which they practiced by reciting it together. It didn’t take long for them to memorize the language they needed. Then it was time to leave. They were as ready as they would ever be.

  Caelen inserted the Director’s Prerogative device into the control panel and programmed the shift. Even though the device was now useless, he returned it to his pocket. Sharon put the remote control in her laptop bag just as Caelen activated the temporal amplifier.

  There was the familiar tingling on Sharon’s skin, and the blue tint to the light as they shifted forward in time. The library swayed like a mirage and the light vanished. They were standing in the darkness next to the brooding iron globe outside the CERN facility.

  “Back where it all started, huh?” Sharon mused.

  “And it’s also where it will end,” a voice replied.

  Bright lights came on, and they blinked, shrinking back as they realized a large group of people surrounded them.

  "Please remain still. You are accused of violating Temporal Protection Corps policy and world law. You will be detained for questioning and further action as warranted.”

  Security officers separated them and took their bags before escorting them into the building. It wasn't until they were inside, however, that they saw the face of the person who led the arrest.

  It was the blond woman from Paris in 1948.

  ◆◆◆

  Caelen and Miranda were silent behind Sharon, as was their escort. The elevator was crowded, and neither the blond woman or the guards showed signs they noticed or cared. The blond woman pushed the down button, but the elevator stopped after only a few floors. They could not have gone as far underground as the TPC headquarters.

  “In this time, the TPC uses a portion of the CERN facilities for its headquarters,” the blond woman said as if she read Sharon’s mind. “The headquarters you know seven decades from now won’t be built for another 10 years.”

  One-by-one they were locked in separate rooms that looked like small offices. Each room had two chairs and nothing else. As the lock turned behind her, Sharon stared at the bare walls in despair. They had failed. They were trapped, held by the TPC. She had no idea what they would do now.

  After what felt like hours the door opened and in walked the blond woman. Behind her a security officer rolled in what looked like a room service cart. Sharon could smell coffee and food.

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting so long,” the woman said as she sat in the second chair. “We brought refreshments and can escort you if you need to freshen up. You can’t escape or see your friends, if you’re considering that. It would be a restroom visit, nothing else.”

  “I’m fine,” Sharon said.

  “Very well,” the woman said. She nodded to the security guard who closed the door, leaving them alone.

  “My name is Astrid Berg. I’m a TPC agent with the Temporal Security Division. I was assigned to investigate a change in the timeline by rogue TPC agents, or rather three rogue agents and one rogue agent-in-training. Does that sound familiar?”

  Sharon stared at the ceiling, refusing to answer.

  “I’m sorry. Would you like coffee? Or a pastry? I’m told the bear claws are excellent today.” Agent Berg stood and poured coffee into two cups. “Milk? Sugar?”

  “I’ll take it black,” Sharon said. Agent Berg smiled as she handed the cup to Sharon and then poured milk into her own cup.

  “Why are you keeping me here?” Sharon demanded. Agent Berg returned to the other chair, the bear claws forgotten.

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? I must interrogate you as part of my investigation.”

  “What about the others? What did you do with Jonas? Is he here?”

  “Yes, he is here. He and the others have already been interrogated. They were most forthcoming, and I think I have all the information I need. Questioning you is a formality, really, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t complete every step of my assignment.”

  “What’s going to happen to them?”

  “What do you think will happen? Together you conspired to violate world law and TPC policy, misused TPC equipment, made unauthorized changes to the timeline, left behind anachronistic materiel—need I go on? They’ll be permanently removed from the TPC. As a start.”

  Agent Berg shifted in her chair and took a sip from her own cup.

  “I’d think you’d be more interested in what’s going to happen to you.”

  There was a knock on the door and Agent Berg stood.

  “Oh yes, that will be the doctor,” she said. Sharon’s mouth went dry, thinking of truth serum and torture.

  “The doctor?” she croaked.

  “Yes, for your hand. I’m sorry if I hurt you when I grabbed it in Paris. I needed to confirm you were the woman I was looking for: A woman who had injured her hand in a fight with a pickpocket at an inn in England 1215, resulting in the loss of a 21st century first aid kit in the 13th century.”

  Agent Berg opened the door and an older woman with a German accent came in carrying a small satchel. She examined Sharon’s hand, clucking under her breath. She ran a small vibrating device several times over the wound and then replaced the bandage.

  “She needs antibiotics immediately,” the doctor said looking up at Agent Berg.

  “Give her whatever she needs.”

  The doctor pulled out a slender metal cylinder about the length of a pencil and pressed it into Sharon’s arm. There was a hissing sound and then she removed the cylinder, packing it into her satchel as she stood up.

  “Keep it covered and clean. You should feel better within 24 hours,” the doctor said t
o Sharon as she left the room. The security guard closed the door as Sharon rubbed her arm.

  “Subcutaneous injection spray,” Agent Berg said. “It’s less painful than a needle and faster than ingesting tablets.”

  “Thank you,” Sharon said.

  Agent Berg took another sip of coffee watching her intently. Sharon wondered when the interrogation would begin. The minutes passed and she began to suspect Agent Berg was waiting for someone else to arrive.

  “You’re not asking me questions,” Sharon commented.

  “As I told you, I already got everything I needed from the others,” Agent Berg answered.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “No? You’re right. Agent Noon and Agent Winters were not cooperative. But Agent Fernley was eager to assist. It seems after leaving a 21st century first aid kit in medieval England, he was willing to negotiate to keep his position as an agent and volunteered as much information as we needed.”

  Sharon’s heart sank into her stomach.

  “Who are we waiting for?” Sharon asked. Agent Berg smiled.

  “We are waiting for a representative from your TPC.”

  “My TPC?”

  “You didn’t know? I’m a TPC agent in this time frame.”

  “You’re not from 78 years from now? Why are you heading the investigation instead of someone from my TPC?”

  “As I understand it, your director’s office asked my director’s office to handle the investigation so that you and your… cohorts would not lose respect in the eyes of your colleagues if you were innocent of the charges against you.”

  Sharon’s mind raced. Why would the TPC 78 years in the future recruit help from the TPC in the past… unless the TPC in the future didn’t want its agents to learn of the change in the timeline? In this time frame, the change hadn’t happened yet—Agent Berg would not learn of the timeline change in her investigation of their actions in the past. Sharon knew she had to act fast.

  “Please listen. We are trying to correct a terrible change in the timeline. The point of divergence will take place a year from now, but we couldn’t figure out how or why it happened, so instead we went back in time to make changes to prevent it.”

  Agent Berg opened her mouth to speak but Sharon pressed on.

  “You’ve got to believe me. The reason the TPC in the future asked you to investigate was not because they wanted to protect us, but so that you would not discover the change in the timeline.”

  “A change in the timeline that the TPC is conspiring to keep in place. Do you expect me to believe that?”

  “I’m telling you the truth!”

  “All right. Let’s say I believe you for the moment. How did you discover it?”

  “We were on a shift… it was a training shift for me. Caelen was my training agent, and Miranda and Jonas joined us. When we returned to the TPC everything had changed. History had changed. The government had declared martial law, and the TPC was no longer an educational and scientific organization but one focused on security and defense research. But Director Veta left us… clues, telling us how to fix things. That was the mission we were on.”

  “A mission from your director? You were on a mission assigned by your director?”

  “Didn’t Jonas tell you that?”

  Agent Berg smiled and shook her head.

  “Agent Fernley didn’t tell me anything. Neither did the other two. Telling you one of your colleagues had, how do you say it—spilled the beans? —is a common interrogation ruse used to get someone to talk. But my guess is that, like you, they didn’t know I was from this time frame and didn’t know if I could be trusted.”

  Sharon felt sick as she realized her error.

  Agent Berg watched her through narrowed eyes. She took another sip of her coffee and then set down the cup on the cart.

  “I was going to transfer custody of you to the representative from your TPC, but I think my investigation isn’t yet over. Please start from the beginning and leave nothing out.”

  Relief flooded through Sharon. She could trust Agent Berg. Everything was going to be ok.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Come,” Agent Berg said. A man and a woman stood in the doorway. Sharon didn’t recognize the man, but she knew the woman. It was Yorga Zintel, the Assistant Director of the TPC in her time frame. She was the TPC representative sent to collect them from the future.

  Agent Berg stood.

  “Director,” she nodded. “Sharon, this is Director Constantine of the TPC in this time frame. I assume you are the representative from the TPC in the future?” she asked Yorga. Yorga nodded wordlessly.

  “Agent Berg, Director Zintel has asked for some time with our, uh, guest. Please step outside,” Director Constantine requested.

  “I’ve not finished my interrogation, Director,” Agent Berg said.

  “I only need a few moments,” Yorga said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

  Agent Berg stood. “Of course,” she said as she walked out of the room. She did not look back at Sharon before the door closed.

  Yorga sat in the chair Agent Berg had just vacated.

  “Hello, Sharon,” Yorga said. There was no hint of friendliness. The hairs on the back of Sharon’s neck rose.

  Everything was definitely not going to be ok.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The first time she’d met Yorga Zintel, Sharon had not been sure of what Yorga thought of her. Now she was sure. Yorga wore her disdain openly.

  “Why are you the one they sent?” Sharon asked. Yorga smiled without warmth.

  “You would prefer Director Veta? Unfortunately for you she’s no longer TPC director. I’ve been acting director since she was placed on administrative leave pending an investigation for her role in an unauthorized mission ordered in clear violation of TPC policy.”

  “Congratulations, I guess,” Sharon said. “That doesn’t explain why you’re the one who came back to get us. Why didn't you send temporal security agents? Or didn’t you want them to learn of the change in the timeline?” Sharon hoped the conversation was being recorded.

  Yorga blinked, trying to look confused.

  “Changes in the timeline? I don't know what you’re talking about. But in answer to your question, I came personally to help keep this whole affair quiet. It’s quite embarrassing, isn’t it? The director violating policy, wrongly sending agents—good agents, but wrongly sent nonetheless—on a half-cocked mission for some unknown purpose. If it became public, it would devastate morale. No, we want to handle this quietly. Sub rosa, as Miranda Noon would say.”

  “What do you want?” Sharon grated her teeth.

  “It’s a difficult situation, you know. Normally in a circumstance like this, agents, or agents-in-training, would be terminated from the TPC and their memories extracted without further consideration. But as far as we can tell you did little damage to the timeline. Furthermore, you are unique and valuable which makes things more complicated. It also makes things easier.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sharon said irritably. She was tiring of Yorga dancing around her point. Again, Yorga seemed to read her mind.

  “My point is simple. You are the expert on the Chestnut Covin. The TPC has deemed you too valuable to throw away. Conversely, the others, your co-conspirators, are not valuable and could be easily replaced by the TPC. But our analysis suggests that if we terminated them you would quit too, out of loyalty or some other noble notion.”

  Sharon smiled wryly.

  “That’s probably accurate.”

  “I’m here to make a proposal, a proposal that is only available now, while we are in this room. We will keep Agent Noon, Agent Winters, and Agent Fernley with the TPC if you agree to also remain with the TPC. You'll be made a full agent, of course, with restrictions. You may not use the temporal amplifier assigned to you without prior permission and it may be used for sanctioned time travel only. Failure to abide by these terms will result in the confiscation of the temporal
amplifier and your termination from the TPC. Do you accept these terms?”

  “If I accept, Miranda, Caelen, and Jonas go free, no strings attached, no repercussions?”

  “That’s correct. Do you accept, or do I open the door and order you and your friends’ return to 2204 for memory extraction?”

  Maybe Agent Berg can help, Sharon thought desperately. But that hope faded quickly. She’d had no time to tell Agent Berg the whole story. That chance was gone. There was no way the TPC of this time frame would believe Sharon over Yorga. What choice did she have now? If she didn’t accept, her friends would end up with their memories removed in a world with curfews and martial law. And she would likely never see them again.

  By accepting, they would remain with the TPC and they might someday be able to fix the timeline. If they weren’t with the TPC, they would never get the opportunity to try again.

  “All right,” Sharon said in a small voice.

  “Did you say you agreed with the proposal?”

  Sharon looked her in the eye.

  “Yes, I agree to your proposal.”

  Yorga held out her hand and Sharon shook it. She expected to feel relief, but she didn’t. Yorga had been clever, Sharon realized. She’d laid all the blame at the feet of Director Veta. The TPC could forgive the gullible but ultimately blameless agents who followed their director’s instructions. Sharon and her friends would be considered foolish but could go on with their lives. Yorga knew that Sharon would have rejected anything less. Yet, Sharon had the hollow feeling that she had made a terrible error.

  Yorga opened the door.

  “Please hand me that item,” she said reaching out her hand to the security guard standing in the hall. When she turned back, she was holding Sharon’s laptop bag. Yorga pulled out the remote control and handed it to Sharon.

  “Under the circumstances, the formal ceremony would not be appropriate, and this will have to do: I hereby grant you the status of a full TPC agent. Congratulations Agent Gorse. Now, you will return to 2023 and wait further instructions.”

  “Right now? What about Caelen, Miranda, and Jonas?”