Solar Flares & Tax Snares

by Rachel Ford

  “My schedule is, I have things I actually want to do. They don’t involve sitting around waiting for you two to get home.

  “So forget about eating. You can do it as soon as you get back. I want to know what Ki’Altan’s people think of the data.”

  “It’ll have been four hours later,” Nancy said, a bit incredulously. “They’ll barely have had a chance to start looking at it.”

  “Then you’ll be home for dinner in no time,” the Englishman declared.

  Alfred sighed, and didn’t bother to mention that they’d already eaten. “Fine. As long as it gets you out of our house.”

  So, for the third time that day, they jumped across time and space to enter the Geejayan premier’s office, shortly before the end of all time and space.

  They materialized in an empty room, though. Ki’Altan’s desk sat empty, and all the furniture around them remained unoccupied. “He’s probably still surveying the damage to the city,” Nance suggested.

  Alfred nodded. “Come on. Let’s go find someone and figure out what’s going on.”

  They started down the hall away from the office tentatively. The taxman vaguely remembered their way from the waiting area, and then Li Muldan’s quarters. But he couldn’t reliably retrace his steps to either, and he didn’t want to wander into any place he shouldn’t be. So he called as they went, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  Despite the fact that the palace was built of glass, the day had grown dark. Artificial lights lit up the corridors, but the glare and reflection made it difficult to see into other portions of the structure.

  “Let’s turn here,” Nance said as they reached a T-shaped hallway. “Li’s rooms were down this way.”

  Alfred nodded. The place looked familiar. “But…well, you know what Ki’Altan said: we’re not allowed to visit.”

  “We’re not visiting. We’re trying to find the premier, and there’s no one around to help us.”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know, Nance.”

  “What else are we supposed to do? We don’t know our way around. And it’s not like he forbid us from talking to Li. He said we’re not allowed to visit. Well, we’re not visiting.”

  It seemed like a technicality to the taxman, but he didn’t have a better idea, either. So he nodded, and they headed off in search of the councilor.

  They found the old alien in their quarters, sitting cross-legged and napping, their back propped against one of the walls. They started awake, though, when Nancy knocked, and blinked with wide blue eyes that, for a moment, seemed uncomprehending. Then, they smiled broadly, and issued a command that Alfred could not hear.

  But the door slid open before them, and Li pushed upward and called in a now audible voice, “Come in, do come in, my friends. What brings you here? I understood that we would not be allowed the privilege of meeting until this business was resolved?”

  “We’re not here to visit,” Nancy said, “though I wish we could. We need your help, Li.”

  “Oh.” The alien blinked. “Well, of course. Whatever I can do, I will do.”

  “We need to find the premier, to ask them about the data we brought.”

  “Ki’Altan? They would be with the Ministry of Science now – examining your data, I believe.”

  So, exactly what we told Winthrop, Alfred thought. Aloud, he said, “Ah, well, we don’t want to interrupt them. We’ll come back some other time.”

  But Li shook their head. “No, don’t go. I will send a wireless courier, and if there is anything to know, we shall know it shortly.”

  This sounded like a good idea, so the pair agreed. Li tapped a wall panel, and a moment later a tiny, flying orb whirred into the room. “There we are,” the alien said. “This will record your message and bring it to the premier.”

  Alfred glanced at Nancy. “You mean…we talk to the orb thing?”

  “That is correct. You may begin at any time.”

  So Alfred did, relating the reason for their visit as naturally as he could when talking to a tiny metal orb. Then the device sped away, and Li beamed. “There. That is done then. Come, sit with me and talk. We will have tea and cakes as we await the answer.”

  “Are you sure we can?” Alfred wondered. “We don’t want to get you in trouble, Li.”

  “Tish and pish, as they say on your world.”

  The taxman was quite certain they didn’t say that on his world, at least not in his part of it and in his timeline. But he said nothing.

  Li went on, “You were prohibited from making social calls. This is not a social call. You have done your duty, and now you wait on the premier’s answer. You can do no more than that.

  “So you may as well have tea and cake while you do it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  They did not receive their answer for a full hour, but Alfred hardly noticed the passage of time. Li wanted to know what they’d been doing, so they filled them in on the conclusion of the case.

  The old alien’s eyes sparkled with an almost wistful enthusiasm. “What rip-roaring fun.”

  “Not at the time – not when the bullets were flying. But, yes,” Alfred admitted. “It was a little thrilling to go toe-to-toe with a paid killer and…” Here he mimed his takedown hit.

  Nancy smiled at him, and Li clapped their hands. “Oh, it reminds me of our adventures, my friends – those you know of, and those we will have. If we solve this business with the end of all things, at least.”

  That did sober them, for a bit anyway. But soon enough, they fell back to reminiscing. “So we have adventures together – you and Getri, and me and Nance?”

  “Indeed. Remarkable adventures. I wish I could speak of them, but I know I mustn’t.” Here, the alien smiled quizzically. “As I suppose you will yet have to keep this meeting a secret.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, when our paths cross, you won’t be able to mention any of this, will you?”

  Alfred frowned, considering the implications. “I guess not.”

  “Well, we will both have to keep our secrets I guess.” Their smile broadened. “But mine at least I know shall be good. If we do not succeed here, and you conceal the end of life from me, I shall not be sorry for the years I have spent in blissful ignorance. And if we do succeed, then I shall have one last adventure at the end of my days. And that too I shall enjoy.”

  Eventually, though, the orb did return, and Li showed them how to play the message contained inside. “I can step outside, if you like.”

  That, of course, wasn’t necessary, and they all watched as a small, holographic representation of the premier sprang to life. “Forgive my delay in response. We have been examining the data your scientist provided. I should say, the great minds of the Ministry of Science have been examining it. But I have been advised of their findings.

  “I’m afraid we have nothing concrete for you at this time. Please check back tomorrow. I will expect you at the same time, and if there is anything to share, we will discuss it further.”

  “I suppose we might as well jump ahead right away,” Nancy said, “instead of checking back with Winthrop.”

  Alfred nodded. The Englishman wouldn’t be particularly interested in how long it took. He wanted results, and that was all.

  So they took their leave of Li, promising to see him shortly. Then, they stepped into the hall, moved the temporal coordinates of the device a day into the future, and leaped forward. They materialized in the premier’s office. Their surroundings looked much as they had the day before, but this time Li Muldan was waiting for them. “My friends, Premier Ki’Altan asked me to give you a message.

  “The Ministry of Science has examined the data but arrived at no precise conclusions. They therefore request that you would check back tomorrow.”

  “Same time, same place?” Alfred asked.

  “As you say.” The alien smiled. “It is good to see you again.”

  It took the taxman a moment to realize that, though it had only been a second or two
for them, an entire day had passed in the alien’s timeline. “You too, Li.”

  Three more times they arrived to similar messages, and three more times they jumped a day into the future. Twice, the sky blazed with fire and falling rocks. Once, fires raged in the city beyond.

  Then, on the fourth try, Li delivered a different message, with a new – and welcome – addition. The first bit about no progress was the same. But this time, they were invited back, not to the future, but two weeks into the past. “And the Ministry of Science has requested a single member of your scientific delegation accompany you: whoever your Winthrop believes to be the best suited to working with our people.”

  This, at least, was progress. And Alfred was getting tired of leapfrogging through time. So he nodded enthusiastically. “Of course.”

  Li placed an orb in the taxman’s hand. “Bring this message with you. It will explain to the Ministry of Science, and to Ki’Altan, all that is happened. They recorded it for their past selves. You must understand, it is very bad, now, Alfred. Half of the city is gone. It is only by some miracle that the Ministry of Science is standing. And there are models that say we have only hours left. Some say days, but…well, the rift is expanding exponentially. Hours may be a generous estimate.”

  That put something of a damper on Alfred’s relief, of course. “Right. Well, uh, that doesn’t sound good.”

  “No. It is a complete frost.”

  As was often the case with his friend’s use of obscure or unusual expressions, Alfred had no idea what that meant on its own. But the context clues provided all the clarification he needed. “Right. Well, we don’t want a…frost.”

  “Indeed. Now, I will leave you. Please return as soon as you are able. And do not forget the message.”

  Li shuffled out of the room, and Alfred exchanged worried glances with Nance. “Well sugar cookies.”

  “Yeah. Come on: let’s get out of here before the rift gets us.” She put in coordinates for their own era and their own planet and pressed the button to return them home.

  Nothing happened. Alfred frowned. “Did you press it hard enough?”

  She pressed it again, until the surface of the button was flush with the surface of the device. And still, nothing happened.

  Alfred licked his lips nervously. He remembered Winthrop’s words so long ago, now. “Not a catch,” he’d said, “but a slight caveat.”

  Our access to the timestream is not always consistent. Sometimes we can access it, and sometimes we can’t.

  “Tell me we’re not stuck here, Nance.”

  She didn’t tell him that, though. She checked the dials and the levers, and pressed the button again – once, twice, and thrice. Then she raised mortified eyes to his. “Alfred, I think we’re stuck here.”

  This, of course, changed matters; and after a slight period of near panic, the taxman collected his wits enough to plan. The first order of business, of course, was to inform Li.

  The old alien listened with mortification, declaring the situation to be worse than they’d imagined. “Our models predicted that you would not be able to reach us when we got to the end stages. I took your arrival as a good sign that we still had some time left. But I see now that that is not the case.”

  The second order of business was to inform the Ministry of Science. And that, Li decided, would be best done in person. “We have no time to lose. Oh, what a sorry business, that now you are compelled to share our fate.”

  Then, they seemed to rouse themselves from despair, because, with a brisk shake of the head, they said. “But come: none of that. We must go now and lose no more precious time.”

  So they did. And Alfred saw with a measure of horror what he’d only glimpsed from the windows of the palace. The city looked like a warzone. Entire blocks had been devastated; entire blocks were even now in flames. The great glass palace that housed the university and ministry of science glowed red with the reflection of the blazing sun overhead, spitting out balls of fiery rock, and the burning city all around.

  The city streets seemed deserted save for the occasional terrified Geejay who scurried past. Gone were the happy smiles and carefree paces. In their place, the taxman saw only desperation and terror.

  Twice, they had to pick alternate paths to the ministry building, as structures had collapsed over the roadway. In the courtyard of the glass palace, they encountered their first group of Geejays. They were battling a fire and focusing particular energy on putting out the flames that crept up a tree. The tree shivered and screamed in agony as the aliens worked against an insatiable wall of fire.

  Alfred felt his blood grow cold at the sound of the creature’s suffering.

  Li urged them on. “Quickly – if we are to stop more suffering, we must go.”

  The taxman nodded and followed, numb with shock. Nancy slipped her hand into his and squeezed it. He glanced up at her and saw some of his own horror reflected back at him.

  Li, meanwhile, ambled on. Even in his old age, the alien could manage a remarkable pace. They led the pair through a maze of halls and corridors, and into a huge meeting room. A cut glass and crystal chandelier blazed with blue light, illuminating the entire room. It was the first hint of any color light other than reddish orange the taxman had seen since they’d left the premier’s palace.

  A great assembly of Geejays looked up at their entrance – some with suspicion, others with aggravation, and yet more with confusion. Premier Ki’Altan fell squarely in the latter grouping, but their partner’s scowl seemed to indicate that the passage of time had certainly not changed opinions in that quarter.

  Li bowed and spoke. “Premier, we bring unfortunate tidings: our friends from Earth are unable to use their device. The timestream seems to be locked to them.”

  This required a little explanation for some of the scientists. But in a few minutes, they were all made to understand the implications: Alfred and Nancy could not leave, nor, in all probability, could anyone else come after them.

  A silence descended on the great assembly, and for a long moment it remained unbroken. Then Litri’s laugh, loud and sardonic, split the air. “Then you are stuck here, to suffer the fate you have forced on us. There is some little justice in that, I suppose.”

  “And what justice indeed, when all life is destroyed. Such reasoning is not worthy of a youngling,” Li said, in sterner tones than Alfred had ever heard the alien use. For half a moment, it looked as if they might say more. Then, though, the old alien turned to Ki’Altan. “We have hours left, Premier. I do not know how you will wish to spend them. But I brought these humans here that we might make what use of the time we have left and try to stave off this bitter end.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The assemblage seemed determined to pretend they had not heard either Litri or Li’s remarks. The older alien refused to make eye contact with their offspring, and the younger would make eye contact with no one at all once Ki’Altan sanctioned Alfred and Nancy’s admittance. They sat in place, silent, stony faced and blue with rage.

  The Ministry of Science aliens peppered the pair of earthlings with questions. Unfortunately, neither Alfred nor Nancy were well prepared to answer them. They had seen neither the Geejayan’s data nor the IBTI’s. They had no idea at all what either side had learned.

  And as, with persistent questioning, that became abundantly clear, the science ministers threw up their hands in despair. “Is there nothing at all you can tell us?” one stern-faced alien demanded.

  Alfred didn’t know their names. With hours left on the cosmic clock, introductions hadn’t been a high priority.

  “Did your scientists tell you none of their theories?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Nancy said. “We work with Winthrop, not the science team.”

  “And did he not tell you?”

  “Winthrop, tell us anything?” Alfred wondered bitterly. “He’d sooner step into traffic than give a straight answer.”

  “Then we are no better off than we started,�
� one of the aliens sighed.

  “I cannot believe it,” another persisted. “They must have said something. Why did they want us to have this data? Did they not have any ideas at all?”

  Alfred shook his head. “No.” Then, he paused. “Well, actually…there was one thing.”

  A hundred sets of anxious eyes turned to him, demanding to know the thing in question. And suddenly, the taxman felt very silly for mentioning it. It had been only the most fleeting mention of something that made no sense to Winthrop.

  There’s one chap whose got an idea, something to do with reversing fields or…I don’t know. It’s all Greek to me.

  Still, they all demanded to know, and he had opened his mouth. So, he said, “Uh. Something about…reversing a field, or fields, or something.”

  But rather than the expected outraged sighs of disgust at such a colossal nothing burger, the assembly grew silent for a good five seconds. Then, one of the senior scientists said, “Reversing the fields. I don’t think we tried that.”

  “You don’t think it could work, do you?”

  “I don’t know. We have the schematics for their damnable device. We could always try that.”

  “Would we be able to produce one in enough time?”

  “And how would we get it into the rift?”

  “That’s a problem for later, if we get that far. In the meantime, well, I don’t think we have a better suggestion.”

  A hundred murmurs of agreement sounded all around them, and then a flood of activity followed. Geejayans poured out, indicating that they were headed to various fabrication labs or design studios.

  Alfred had no idea at all what was happening, and he told Li as much. The alien regarded him curiously. “Do you not know, my friend? You’ve provided the answer. All this time, we have been working to shut down the rift. Your idea is to reverse it: to build a device exactly like the one that caused the problem, but that pulls on opposite forces to neutralize the rift. Much like you would apply water to a fire to put it out.”

  The taxman got the concept, but he didn’t understand how the devices were built in the first place. So, like Winthrop, he found himself shrugging and saying it all sounded like Greek to him.