by Ron Rayborne
“That’s bullcrap,” Jaqzen shot back. “Do you think I’m stupid? There is no way that anything we do to them will do anything to us. There will be so many animals, the chance of our taking out the exact one that led to us is pretty much impossible. Period.”
Julie felt herself trembling, her face flush with anger. “I’m not arguing this with you any longer,” she said, eyes shining. Suddenly, all of the joy of the past month was gone, in its place was dread. The dread of a promised mutiny before the mission had even begun. She realized now that, in her excitement about the trip, she’d pushed down her nagging doubts about the man. “I could have you thrown off this mission, Mr. Jaqzen!” she raged.
At that, Jaqzen stood. Then he laughed. It was the laugh of someone absolutely certain of his mission. “Yes, you go ahead and do that, Bitch,” he said. Then, waving a hand with his middle finger extended, he walked out.
“He was completely out of line!” Julie insisted. Karstens listened and nodded. “He basically told me that he is going to do whatever he wants, regardless of what I say.”
Karstens thought for a moment. Inhaled and exhaled. He, too, had had serious misgivings about the matchup from the beginning. About the government’s choice of bodyguard. When the Suits first introduced him, he took an immediate dislike to the man. Surely, he thought, they could find someone with a little more science background and a better understanding of protocol. There was no doubt that Jaqzen was qualified for the task for which he had been chosen. He’d been the chief bodyguard for a noted head of state and in that capacity had kept the man alive through seven assassination attempts. It didn’t matter that the man was political pond scum, a dictator who ruled his district with an iron fist. The governor was eventually forced out, and Jaqzen went on to other things. It wasn’t disclosed exactly what those other things were, though Karstens heard in passing that it may have had something to do with quelling political disquiet. He’d wondered what that entailed.
Besides his official work, Jaqzen was an expert martial artist, having won several Ultimate Man Championships (UMC). Through all of this, he was also a dedicated “big game hunter” who spent much of his private time dispatching more than his share of the world’s remaining wildlife with satisfaction. Had Julie known that Dietrich was a member of SCI, a group long known to target endangered species, she would have been horrified and would never have agreed to team with him.
On the other hand, Jaqzen was also known for his loyalty once hired. Though his loyalty in this case was apparently to the government, not to Julie per se. Still, Karstens knew that the regime wanted this mission to succeed. Surely they would not have picked someone who was a threat.
As it was, Karstens kept most of this to himself. His duty was to make certain that this job went off without major incident. Higher authorities were involved, and they could have easily found someone else to commandeer things. The best way to ensure that the best decisions, as he saw them, were made, were if he made them, and right now he had to reassure Julie.
“I understand. You’re right about the insubordination, if that’s what it was. I will talk to him,” he said. Julie waited. She’d hoped for more. “I want you to know, confidentially,” and here he lowered his voice, “that I was not happy with the decision of Jaqzen’s inclusion. I felt that we could have done better. I was overridden. And to be honest, that means that I don’t have a lot of room for action.” Then raising his voice, he continued, “Having said that, Julie, there are other things that you need to consider. The first is that, as you know, Jaqzen is his own man. He’s headstrong and muscle-bound. He’s someone who’s used to giving orders, not taking them. He has a lot of experience in his field, and, frankly, I believe we need his services.”
“But his actions could change history,” Julie protested.
“Julie, I am a physicist; I deal in matters of time and probability. Let me give you my opinion on that. Were we sending the two of you back into recorded history, then yes, there is a fair chance that, were he to bash about, he could indeed change things. Or even if you were to go back into prehistory a ways, to the time of the Cro-Magnon, let’s say. That too, while the risk would be lower, would still be unacceptable in terms of a chance to mess things up. But you will be going back fifteen million years, to a time when our most important primate ancestors weren’t even in existence, nor were they in North America! The odds of our changing the course of our history, it seems to me, are vanishingly small. Think of it like throwing a rock into a pond. There are ripples, and they do stretch out for a time, but then they are gone, healed over by the Gaian need for equilibrium. He may be a Neanderthal, but in this case, I think Jaqzen is right. I don’t think, short of a mass reshaping, something simply not possible by one man alone, not to mention in the time frame of one month, that there is any threat to the human species from this mission.
“Second. Again, it’s only a thirty-day expedition. It will soon be over and you will be back and never have to lay eyes on him again if you don’t want to. Third, I’m going to point out the obvious, and that’s that there are two days left before your departure. Even if the authorities wanted to find someone else, there is simply not enough time.”
“I know, I know,” Julie acknowledged. “I’m sorry. I should have been more attentive. But jeez, Bob, why do we have to bring the worst of our qualities back to a pristine world?”
“My lady, don’t make too much of this. While you know I share your convictions regarding our attitudes toward other species, I think that we can rest assured that, even if Dietrich spent the entire month that you’ll be gone blowing away native fauna, he wouldn’t and couldn’t make a dent in the total numbers. You know that better than anyone.” Julie’s eyes flashed at the thought, but she said nothing.
“I know that this union won’t be easy, but I need you, no, the world needs you, to temporarily rise above your convictions and make it work. There will undoubtedly be areas of disagreement, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to bend a bit,” then lower, “and I strongly advise you to do so. Trying to make a large change now could jeopardize the mission. I’m afraid there’s no other way.” Julie’s mouth was set, but inwardly she acknowledged the truth of his words. She nodded agreement.
“You’re right, of course. I’ll do my best.”
“My dear, you’ve known Deet now for over a month, and in that month have there been other issues?” Karstens asked.
“No,” she acknowledged.
“Then don’t make more of this than it is. I’d wager that this whole thing goes off without a hitch and you’ll have a wonderful adventure and a wonderful future of study upon your return. You are in quite an envious position, scientifically speaking, you know. Very few people ever get everything they want, and many, nothing. I say, go talk to Jaqzen, then put this behind you and move forward. I’ll speak to him as well, and remind him of our expectations. You will be in charge, just do it wisely.”
“Yes, okay. Thank you, Bob,” Julie replied, suddenly embarrassed for even bringing it up. “I apologize for the distraction.”
“No apologies required,” Karstens said.
“Bob, there’s something I’ve not said before, but should have. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this opportunity. This trip is a dream come true for me.” Then, forgetting her reservations, she suddenly broke into a broad smile. “Truth be told, I’m absolutely giddy at the prospect.” Karstens returned her smile and took Julie’s hand in his. He felt a real affection toward her.
“I know, child,” he answered. Julie blinked back a tear.
“I do wish Tom could come,” she said.
“I know you do. I tried. It’s just not happening. I am sorry.” And Julie’s heart sank a little, for even though she knew his answer, she’d still held out a thread of hope.
What she didn’t know was that Karstens’ heart also sank, and that was because he’d lied to her. He knew that indeed Tom could have gone as well, at least as far as the technical feasibilit
y was concerned. There was enough energy for him: extra power that, while unnecessary for this trip, would, in fact, be wasted and unrecoverable if not used.
What shamed Karstens was his belief that, were they to allow both Julie and Tom to travel backwards in time, back to a world beautiful and unspoiled, a world of wonder and diversion, a world devoid of the many sickening reminders of the shambles we later made of it, very likely they would not return. Even now, there was a possibility that Julie wouldn’t. Tom, thus, was to be “held” as unsuspecting insurance against that possibility.
Karstens knew that, much as Julie loved the prehistoric world, that long bygone age she’d made the study of her life’s mission, she loved Tom even more.
Chapter 7
The launching party was an extravagant affair and not really to Julie’s or Tom’s liking. Tom was amazed at the crowd. The place was virtually bustling. He had thought that this was to be a secret mission. Apparently, those with a “need to know” were more than a few. Besides relevant scientists, those from the original crowd that day at the lab when they all learned about the astounding events which led to this day, the gathering also included various worldly VIPs. Perhaps a hundred and fifty people in all, and everyone dressed in their finest attire. Laughing, joking and even the occasional song broke out among them. Perhaps, Julie mused, the reason for the lightness of the mood was the belief among those less skeptical than she that this endeavor would somehow contribute to the success of the greater glorious mission, humanity’s destination among the stars.
But she doubted it. The majority of this group were simply too intellectually solid to fall for that tripe. So she decided that the cheeriness must simply be due to the occasion, another techno-milestone achieved after a long dry spell. But not just any old milestone. Time travel by a human being was extraordinary, the impossible finally attainable. Certainly a time to celebrate. Then, of course, there was simply the need to find a reason for optimism. Even in the face of depressing bleakness, people found reason for hope.
Julie noticed Dietrich, surrounded by a cache of admiring females, was waving his arms around, recounting and regaling his personal audience with past tales of daring-do. Though most of these women were married, he had plans to bed at least one of them tonight, the finer points of civilized society notwithstanding. But that was none of her business and she turned away. She, herself, had had her own small entourage until she dismissed herself to find Tom hovering near the refreshment table. She lightly took hold of his elbow.
“Your man Karstens seems to have missed the boat to Happy Island,” Tom said, nodding in the direction of the administrator. Julie turned to look. Indeed, Karstens was standing alone, back near a wall, drink in hand and looking pensive. He held a sheaf of papers, and though to a casual observer he appeared to be reading them, Julie saw that his eyes weren’t moving. The papers, then, were apparently meant to keep others at bay. She also noticed that he was repeatedly clenching and unclenching his jaw. A small sign. Something wrong, she thought.
Someone approached. “Mrs. Pine, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind saying a few words?” he asked politely. Julie nodded. She’d anticipated it and had a short speech prepared. “In, say, five, ten minutes?” he asked.
“Certainly. Thank you,” she answered.
“Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart,” Tom said. She gave him the lopsided smile that he knew meant that there were any number of other things she’d rather do. Julie had her abilities; public speaking wasn’t one of them. She felt a few flutters coming on. Calm, she thought.
Julie walked to her bag to fish out the notes. Suddenly she was aware of a presence behind her. She turned. Blacksuit. He held out his hand.
“Yes?” Julie asked.
“Speech,” was the reply.
“Excuse me?” she asked again.
“Speech,” The man repeated and reached for her notes, grabbing them by a corner.
“I beg your pardon!” Julie answered, pulling away. By the side of the first man, another then appeared, not a Blacksuit, but obviously an accomplice.
“Ah, Ms. Pine, my apologies,” said the man in a thin, nasal voice. “I hope you understand. We’ll have to go over your notes, to, ah, clear them for public consumption.” He took hold of the papers and pulled slightly, removing them from Julie’s hands.
“To ... what?” she exclaimed. Heads turned toward them. Karstens, too, looked up. Tom was already moving her way. She looked for a name tag on the man, but there was nothing. “Mr...?”
“I’m sorry, but as you know, all public dissertations must be approved ahead of time. It’s quite routine.”
“The hell it is!” Tom said, snatching them out of the man’s grasp. The Blacksuit next to him made a quick move, but the anonymous man shot out a hand and stopped him with, what seemed to Tom, unnatural speed.
Karstens showed up. “What’s going on?” he inquired, looking at the anonymous man.
“Nothing at all. A minor misunderstanding. It is protocol for all speeches to be cleared first. I believe that Ms. Pine was unaware of that,” the man said.
“Mrs!” Julie corrected.
Karstens looked at the notes, then back at the man and the Blacksuit next to him. His face flushed, but he gave none of that away in his voice. Instead he said, “I see. Yes, that does seem reasonable, don’t you think so, Julie?” She gazed at him, considered his set, unsmiling features and realized his point. A small injustice. Civil society crushed under a mountain of small injustices. But don’t make too much of it. It’s not worth it.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” she agreed, breathing out. She reached over and took them from Tom, the two of them briefly connecting, and handed them to the man. “Forgive me. I forgot,” she said apologetically. But it’s not like I would be saying anything this crowd doesn’t already know, she thought.
“Certainly,” the man replied, smiling. It was a skinny pseudo smile, though, the kind one might see on a mannequin.
“Um hmm, um hmm,” the nameless man repeated as he scanned the notes. Reaching the end, he said, “Excuse me a moment.” He walked to a table, his back toward them. Leaning over it, his movements were vigorous. A minute later, he returned and handed Julie back her speech. She looked down at them. Whole lines were crossed out, while in other areas, words and sentences were added.
Clenching her teeth, she glanced again at Karstens. “An improvement,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Yes, thank you so much,” Julie said, barely keeping the mockery out of her voice.
“Most welcome. Delighted to be of help,” the man replied. “I certainly hope that you have a successful journey and hurry back to give us the good news,” he said.
She frowned at that. What did he mean, “news”? She replied only, “Yes. The good news.”
“Mrs. Pine? You’re on,” said the man who had asked her to speak. Not enough time to read the changes, Julie walked toward the podium. She shook hands with the host, then turned toward her audience.
“Greetings, fellow citizens,” she began. “My name is Julie Pine. I am Under-Curator for Antiquities at the Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History. I have been asked, and have accepted, an assignment from our great and enlightened Pangaean government. The nature of this assignment, at present, is officially classified; however, suffice to say that humanity stands to benefit in no small way from our efforts. Isaac Newton once stated, ‘If I can see far, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants’. Today I wish to acknowledge some of those giants.
“First and foremost, the Institute de Physica, and its great family of theoretical physicists, without whom my mission would never have occurred. Guys, I am proud to have been selected and only hope that I will prove worthy of your trust in me.” There was applause.
“Then there are my own stomping grounds at the Museum of Natural History where I have served for almost ten years. And of course I want to thank AAAS, the American Association for the Advancement of Science, the National Academies and the Natio
nal Science Foundation, whose tireless work to close the knowledge gap between us and the cosmos has led to so much of the progress I will be depending upon. NASA and the National Geographic Society, which have contributed so much to our understanding of the world over the years. Amonston,” she stopped suddenly and read to herself with horror the words which had been inserted, “um, Amonston Biotech. Uh, Wod and Duntop Chemical.” She swallowed. “Oxxen-Milob oil. Yessam Coal. Monarch Nuclear. Ubiquity Nanotech. JR Dorylens. Lipphi Rimsor. New World Chamber of Commerce. GlobeTech Surveillance Systems. Er, these, um, luminaries of industry have also given us all so much and,” her face reddened, “uh, indeed I, uh, I,” swallowing, “I am so ... appreciative of their labors, and their leadership in making our world and the world to come a ... a ... better place.” She looked at the crowd. Stony faced, they knew it was crap. They also realized that these wouldn’t be her words. On the other hand, these industries had made notable scientific and monetary contributions to science over the years, so in a way they could be construed as having been a part of it all. In a pig’s eye, Julie knew. More likely, it was their perennial “donations” to certain governmental officials which merited their mention. It was an outrage, of course, but there was nothing to be done about it. She pressed ahead.
At first, Tom was as angry as his wife, then he saw the irony in it. Here was Julie, the last person in the world who would be singing Amonston, et al’s, praise, doing just that. Then the humor of it occurred to him and he laughed. A short, sudden burst and Julie looked up. Other heads turned in his direction. Tom gave a sheepish shrug and smiled. Julie gave him a look that said, ‘just you wait.’