Lilliput Legion tw-9

by Simon Hawke

  "Damn!" Steiger swore through clenched teeth.

  A young doctor dressed in surgical greens came through the door abruptly. Steiger, his nerves ragged, almost shot him.

  "What the hell…" the doctor's eyes grew wide at the sight of Steiger's plasma pistol, then he saw the dead bodies on the floor. "Oh, my God!"

  "Who're you?" said Steiger.

  "What happened here?"

  "Answer my damn question!"

  "I… I'm Dr. Philip Torvalt, pathology resident."

  "You know that man?" Steiger asked the young doctor, indicating the dead assailant in the lab coat. "He one of your people?"

  Torvalt glanced again at the slain M.P. 's, then approached the assassin's corpse, glanced down at him, swallowed hard and shook his head. "No. No, I've never seen this man before." He looked back up at Steiger. "What the hell happened here? I was… Colonel, you're wounded!"

  "It's only a scratch." Steiger glanced down at the two dead M.P.'s, his lips compressed onto a thin line. "They got the worst of it."

  "You're bleeding profusely," Torvalt said, frowning. "You'd better let me see that.

  It could be serious. I've never seen a laser wound that didn't cauterise."

  "It wasn't a laser," Steiger said. "Bring me — that man's weapon."

  Dr. Torvalt started to reach for the pistol, then hesitated.

  "Should I be touching this?"

  "Why not?"

  "Well I don't know, I mean.. it's evidence, isn't it?"

  "Were you planning on arresting him? Come on, snap out of it, Doctor. You act as if you've never seen a dead body before. What the hell kind of a pathologist are you?"

  "There's no need to be sarcastic, Colonel," Torvalt said, stiffly. He wrenched the pistol loose from the dead man's grip. "After all, it isn't every day I walk. into the middle of a war."

  "War?" Steiger snorted. "Hell, this wasn't a war, Doctor.

  This wasn't even a small skirmish. This was merely murder."

  "Merely?" said the doctor.

  Steiger winced. "Sorry. I tend to get a little testy when people try to kill me."

  "Here." Torvalt handed Steiger the gun, handling it gingerly.

  "Well, I'll be damned," said Steiger, examining it.

  "What kind of weapon is that?" Torvalt said, fascinated in spite of himself. "I've never seen anything like it."

  "That's because it's a bit before your time, Doctor. It's a true collector's item. A Semiautomatic lead projectile pistol fitted with a custom silencer. A 10-mm Colt Delta Elite, circa the late 20th century…

  "The 20th century?" said Torvalt, with astonishment. Alarmed faces were looking in through the windows in the doors. Several hospital staff people started to come in.

  "Stay out!" snapped Steiger. They quickly backed out once again. "Doctor, I want this place secured. I'll have I.S.D. co-ordinate with you. Get those men up off the floor and then I want a full workup on that one," he pointed at the assailant's corpse. "Retinal patterns, finger and palm prints, dental analysis, genetic mapping, the works. I want to know who he was before the night is out."

  "Colonel, that's impossible! There's no way I can do all that in-"

  "Then get someone who can. This is top priority. I'm holding you personally responsible."

  There was a knock at the door.

  "What is it? Steiger shouted, angrily.

  "I.S.D., Colonel."

  "That you, Danelli?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Come on in. "

  Three commandos in black base fatigues entered, their sidearms held ready. Steiger recognised them and lowered his pistol.

  "You all right, sir?" Sgt. Danelli said, holstering his pistol. "Yeah. You got here quick."

  "Responding to a report of a dead body, sir. One of the hospital cleaning staff found one of the doctors murdered." He bent down and pulled the nametag off the dead man's Jab coat. "Now we know why. What are your orders, sir?"

  "First of all, get some more people down here and secure the area." Steiger winced, holding his arm up as Torvalt staunched the flow of blood and examined the wound. "Nobody comes in, nobody leaves. Nobody goes off duty. I want all hospital personnel questioned. Everybody. We probably won't learn anything, but do it anyway. Delegate someone to take charge of that. I want you personally to get on the horn right now and call the old man. Alert his security detail, tell him we've got' two men down, both dead, and I've got a superficial flesh wound. Pure dumb luck. The hitter was a pro. It was the Network, no doubt about it. Find out how many people knew about my brother's body being brought in. Then get on to the S

  amp; R team that actually brought him in. I want to know how that hitter knew to be here. Then have someone call Archives Section and tell them to stand by for a download. Dr. Torvalt here is going to feed them everything they need for an ID. check on the hitter. I want to know who the son of a bitch was. You got all that?"

  "Yes, sir?"..

  "Right. Go to it." Steiger winced again as Torvalt probed the wound. "Christ! You having fun, Doctor?"

  "Sony, colonel," Torvalt said. "It's just that I've never seen a wound like this before. I wanted to make certain that there were no lead projectile fragments remaining in the wound. There could be a danger of lead poisoning-"

  Steiger laughed. "Hell, Doe, if that had been a fragmentation round, I wouldn't be sitting here. The bullet went clean through. Just spray on some disinfectant, slap a graft patch on and let me out of here. I've got work to do."

  Forrester glanced at the nervous-looking man who'd just entered the room. "With the security situation the way it is, I wanted Dr. Gulliver close by, where I could personally keep an eye on him."

  "Forgive me, gentlemen," Gulliver said, hesitantly. "I did not mean to intrude, but I

  …" he stared at Andre. "Good Lord!. You're a woman!"

  "I was last time I checked," said Andre.

  Gulliver turned to Forrester with a befuddled look.

  "But… a female military officer?"

  And as he turned, he noticed the far wall of Forrester's penthouse quarters. The entire wall was a window looking out over the lights and illuminated towers of

  Pendleton Base sprawled out below, a panoramic view that even included the sulphurous glow of Los Angeles off in the distance, to the north, Gulliver gasped.

  "Merciful heavens! Where in God's name am I?" He approached the window slowly. "I could have sworn there was a wall here when I came in!"

  Forrester picked up his remote ambience control from the coffee table and opaqued the window, switching to the holographic slide. Gulliver caught his breath as he suddenly found himself staring at what appeared to be a solid wall, painted a deep maroon, with paintings hanging on it. The effect was completely three dimensional.

  "It's done with this, Dr. Gulliver," said Forrester, showing him the remote control unit. "It isn't a real wall, you see. It's only a projection… uh, an illusion. A sort of trick. See, I can change the colour of the wall in an instant if I choose to. "

  He clicked another button, on the unit and the wall became dark green.

  "However, in actuality, the entire wall is really a large window," Forrester said, cancelling the projection.

  Gulliver stared out at the view, mesmerised. "I am not insane," he mumbled. "I am not insane. I am not."

  "No, Dr. Gulliver, you're not," said Forrester, coming up to the man and putting his hand on his shoulder. "You have simply found yourself in a situation that taxes all your beliefs. However, I remind you of the things that you have already experienced and seen and known without a shadow of a doubt to be absolutely real. And as difficult to believe as this may seem, this too is real. You have been transported almost a thousand years into the future, to the 27th century, where the advances in our technology make your society seem as primitive as

  Norman England would seem to Londoners in the year 1702."

  Gulliver slowly approached the window, then recoiled with a small cry.

  “Don't worry',
it's quite safe," said Forrester

  Gulliver shook his head. "At first I thought that we were in a house atop some mountain, but… dear Lord, this building must be his voice trailed off in incomprehension.

  "A hundred and fifty stories tall," said Forrester. "And it's not even a very tall building by the standards of this time."

  Gulliver continued to stare raptly out the window at the panoramic view. Delaney came up to him and offered him a glass of whiskey.

  "Here, Doctor," he said. "For medicinal purposes."

  Gulliver sniffed the glass and smiled. "Good malt whiskey," he said, with a weak smile. “Thank God for something familiar."

  He drained the glass.

  "I think I had better sit down, if I may," he said.

  "Please do," said Forrester. "I know things have been very confusing for you since you arrived here, Dr. Gulliver. One moment, you were in I 8th century London, and the next, you were somehow magically transported to a sort of prison cell and held there without explanation for twenty-four hours. In fact, it was not really a prison cell at all, but something we call a 'secure transport co-ordinate zone.' We maintain a number of such secure areas and one of their functions is to handle unusual cases such as yours, where it becomes necessary to transport someone from the past without adequate preparation or warning. It was necessary to hold you for that time so that we could take certain precautions."

  "I know you must have many questions," Forrester continued. "So do we.

  Alexander Steiger was a soldier, a Temporal Observer… a sort of spy, if you will.

  Since Col. Steiger had no time to send us a complete report, he sent you, instead. Whatever it was that attacked you and killed Col. Steiger located you by means of this."

  Forrester held up a little plastic envelope containing what looked like a tiny, bright blue seed.

  "By means of that little thing? What is it?" Gulliver said.

  "It is a highly sophisticated signalling device," said Forrester. "It's been deactivated. It was implanted under your skin, behind your left ear."

  Gulliver's hand went to the spot behind his ear. "What?

  But.. how? There is nothing…"

  "You were rendered unconscious for a time," said Forrester. He held up his hand as Gulliver was about to speak. "Yes, I know you don't remember. And there is no point in feeling around behind your ear, Doctor. You will find no evidence of surgery, I assure you. Not even the faintest scar. Please, try to understand, we have the ability to do things that someone from your time could not even begin to understand. It is unavoidable that you will be exposed to some of them, and I will attempt to explain whatever I can if there is time; but in many cases, the explanation itself would require a complex explanation, and it would involve a challenge to your systems of belief. I know it is difficult, but please try to bear with me and accept that what I tell you is the truth. We need your help, Dr. Gulliver.

  Millions of lives could be at stake. Will you help us?"

  "I do not understand any of this, General," said Gulliver, nervously, "and I must admit that I am frightened, but somewhat less frightened now than when I first arrived here. You have been most considerate. And as you have pointed out, I have already seen things that defy belief on the island of the little people and somehow I have managed to accept them and survive. There is much here that I don't understand. I cannot comprehend how it is possible that I have been somehow transported a thousand years into the future, but I cannot deny the evidence of my senses."

  He gestured at the window. "That is unquestionably not the world I came from.

  Sandy.. or Cpl. Steiger, as you call him, accepted my tale when everyone else believed me to be mad. And now, because of me, he is dead. That, General, is something I can comprehend only too well. Yes, of course, I will do whatever I can to help."

  "Good," said Forrester. "Then if you will bear with me, I'll attempt to answer some of your questions and explain who Sandy was and why he sent you here…"

  "Excuse me, sir," said Forrester's orderly, interrupting them.

  "Yes, Roberts, what is it?"

  "Sgt. Danelli of the I.S.D. just called from the base hospital. There's been an attempt on Col. Steiger's life."

  Delaney was out of his chair like a shot. "Is he all right?"

  "He's been wounded, sir," said Roberts, "but I'm assured it's only superficial. In fact, I was told he'll be on his way up here momentarily. Unfortunately, both men on his security escort were killed. Sgt. Danelli said Col. Steiger is certain the Network was responsible. Obviously, someone knew he was going to be in that hospital morgue."

  "Hell, he only left here less than twenty minutes ago!" said

  Forrester.

  "It's seems likely that someone affiliated with the Network reported that his brother's body was being brought in," said Sgt. Roberts. "Sgt. Danelli is going to be checking with the S amp; R team that brought Cpl. Steiger back and working back from there to see how many people knew about it. Along the line, someone must have leaked the information and an' assassin was sent to the hospital morgue on the theory that Col. Steiger would be bound to go there. I.S.D. found one of the pathologists murdered and stuffed into a supply closet. Col. Steiger felt, however, that there was another possibility."

  "That this place is bugged," said Andre.

  "What, my own quarters?" Forrester said, with disbelief.

  "An I.S.D. unit is on its way to sweep for surveillance devices," Roberts said. "However, Sgt. Danelli seemed to think. it was an unlikely possibility. If they could get in here to plant a bug, then why not go ahead and plant a bomb?"

  "We'd better get you out of here, sir," said Delaney.

  "Well, now where the hell am I supposed to go?" said Forrester. "You think. it's any safer out there? Forget it. I'm not going to run from these people. I'm much better off being where they can make a try for me. That'll at least give us an opportunity to tackle them. Hiding won't solve anything. Besides, if they wanted to, they could take out this entire building with a small guided missile."

  "I.S.D. has already anticipated that, sir," said Roberts.

  "There's been an S. D. battery emplaced upon the roof. "

  Forrester stared at him. "Are you serious? Somebody installed a Strategic

  Defence battery on my roof! When?"

  "Last week, sir," Roberts said. "It was air lifted into place and-“

  "On whose orders?"

  "Col. Steiger's, sir."

  "Well, it's sure as hell nice of somebody to tell me!"

  Forrester said.

  "I… I'm sorry, sir, I thought you knew," said Roberts. "Well, it's a fine goddamn thing when the Director of Temporal Intelligence doesn't even know there's an autopulser battery up on his own roof! What the hen else has Col. Steiger authorised that I don't know about?"

  "I've ordered your personal security increased, for one thing," Steiger said, walking in on the tail end of the conversation. He hadn't even stopped to change his torn and bloodied shirt. "And I don't want to hear any arguments about it, either. These people aren't playing around."

  "Colonel, you're insubordinate!"

  "'Fine, you want my damn birds, you can have 'em anytime you want," Steiger snapped back, ripping off his insignia and tossing them on the Floor at Forrester's feet. "I only know one way to do my job and that's not to take any halfass measures! You're not out in the field facing soldiers anymore; it isn't that straightforward. You're up against intelligence pros who make the Timekeepers look like a small time inner city street gang. The Network wants you dead and if I was a betting man, my money'd be on them. However, since I’m one of their targets too, I'd kinda like to make it a little harder for them to score a hit. They came pretty damn close just now and I almost bought it. I'm not about to let them get that dose to you. So either let me do my job or relieve me of command!"

  There was a moment of shocked silence following his outburst, then Forrester softly cleared his throat.

  "Are you finished?" he said.


  "Yes sir, I'm finished, sir!"

  "Fine. Pick up your eagles. When and if I want them, I'll tear them off you myself, is that understood?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "I didn't hear you."

  "Yes, sir!" said Steiger, snapping to attention.

  "Oh, stand at ease, for God's sake. Roberts, get the colonel one of my fresh shirts.

  He seems to have torn his."

  "You okay?" Delaney said. Steiger was wired so tight, he seemed to be vibrating.

  Steiger took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah, I guess I'll live. " Then he seemed to notice Gulliver for the first time. He looked at him and blinked twice, taken aback at not having realised there was a stranger in the room with them.

  "Who the hell is that?"

  Gulliver had followed the preceding conversation with incomprehension and alarm.

  Now he rose uncertainly to his feet and hesitantly extended his hand.

  "Dr. Lemuel Gulliver, at your service, sir."

  "Col. Creed Steiger." They shook hands.

  "I perceive you have been wounded. I do not have my instruments with me, but.."

  Steiger shook his head. "Thank you, but it wasn't very serious. I've already had it seen to." He frowned. "What did you say your name was?"

  "Dr. Gulliver is the man mentioned in your brother's report," said

  Forrester.

  Steiger stared at him. Gulliver had been given a suit of disposable green transit fatigues to wear, so there had been nothing to mark him externally as a T.D.P., a temporally displaced person.

  "Sandy was your brother?" Gulliver said. "There is a strong family resemblance.

  He was very kind to me." There was a pained expression on his face. "If not for me, he might have… I. I wish… it really should have been me, instead."

  Steiger stared at him for a moment, then nodded sympathetically. "No one's blaming you, Doctor." He glanced at Forrester. "Sandy sent him through?"

  "Yes, to tell us what he couldn't," said Forrester, with a tight grimace.

  "You saw him?"

  Steiger nodded. The tension had started to go out of him, though he was still wired from the news of his brother's death and the attempt on his life. Roberts brought him one of