by T. A. Uner
“TimeBoss please display a picture of a patient with smallpox.”
A second later a more recent picture of a smallpox victim appeared next to Lincoln’s. The picture of a little girl from 1980 in Angola. At first glance Patrice didn’t notice any difference, but she had a hunch and decided to dig deeper. “Feed these readouts into the main computer and cross reference to see if these two infections match.”
TimeBoss fed the results into the main computer and Patrice eyed the results on a computer terminal monitor. Her eyebrows rose sharply and she shook her head. “This is so damn weird. Lincoln died of an Ebola infection?”
Inside the AL conference room, Argos and Johnny looked generally disconcerted by the news. She could imagine Argos’ dismay as a black American, as Abraham Lincoln had been the catalyst for freeing his ancestors from slavery on January 1st, 1863.
“Ebola didn’t exist back then,” said an Indian woman who introduced herself as Dr. Salvi, AL’s resident medical expert who briefed operatives pertaining medical related issues. “It was first discovered in 1976 in two simultaneous outbreaks in Sudan and Zaire.”
“This is messed up,” Johnny said.
Patrice felt like snapping at Johnny but kept her nerve. “Yes, it is ‘messed up’ as you put it, Agent Veto, but this is what AL deals with. Someone has assassinated America’s greatest President in his prime, thus affecting the course of American history, which has drastically affected Earth’s timeline.”
“How bad is it, Patrice?” Argos asked. “I mean, what does the rest of the planet look like? Don’t tell me those damn Nazis won World War II.”
“I can do better than that, Argos, I can show you.” Patrice activated a 3D projection which showed Earth’s solar system. There were red flashing dots surrounding Jupiter.
“What are those red dots?” Johnny asked.
“Space outposts, Mr. Veto. They belong to the Lycarian Solar Empire. They were annexed in 2003.”
“Damn! So, the Lycarians are after Earth!”
Patrice nodded in agreement. “It would appear so. It is logical to assume that they’ve altered our timeline in order to manipulate Earth’s history to their advantage by destabilizing human development. But…I’m afraid there’s even more disturbing news.”
Argos scratched his cheek. “Let’s hear it.”
“There’s no easy way to say it. Black Americans still do not have civil rights in the United States. Lincoln’s death culminated in the nullification of 1964 Civil Rights Bill—thus, it was never created because no Civil Rights movement was ever started. And worse, since Director Otis wasn’t inside AL headquarters he wasn’t protected by the timeline change. According to the computer, our current Director is Robert Mills.” She activated a monitor, which depicted a Caucasian man in his late 40s. “Mills is currently on Penal One, overseeing computer upgrades.”
“So we’re the only ones with any memory of Director Mitchell?” Johnny chimed in.
“I’m afraid so.”
Argos collected his composure and turned towards Johnny. “This is what you were trained for; now it’s time for a time-healing expedition. We have to stop Lincoln’s killer in 1861 Baltimore.”
Patrice nodded. “In the original timeline, the assassination attempt was called the Baltimore Plot, but it was never carried out. You must pinpoint the exact location in 1861 Baltimore, and prevent Lincoln’s assassin from carrying out the Ebola threat.”
Johnny looked frustrated. “That’s like trying to find a penny in a sand dune.”
Patrice fed information into the computer which appeared on every attendee’s table monitor. “Fortunately, there are some existing records from that time period, so we have an approximate location of where the Ebola attack might’ve occurred. This data should give you something to work with.”
“Still won’t be easy,” Johnny added as he eyed the data on his console.
“You didn’t join AL for an easy time Johnny,” Argos said curtly. “So you better get used to hardships from now on.” He stood up and stomped out of the conference room before stopping and whirling around. “Meet me in the hangar bay when you’re done here.”
Patrice had never seen Argos this short with anyone. Let alone Johnny. After he had left Johnny looked a bit addled. His gruff attitude was understandable but for once, her heart went out to Johnny. “He didn’t mean to act dour towards you; we’re all a bit stunned with this major timeline deviation. It's never been this high before. The previous record was twenty-nine percent, and that’s considered pretty bad.”
“That’s fine, Patrice.” Johnny stood up. “I need to get going anyway. Thanks for the presentation.” He turned towards Dr. Salvi and thanked her too before leaving.
(2)
Johnny reported to the medical bay for a final physical scan from the medical computer, which cleared him for duty. He gathered his supplies and visited the quartermaster’s office to request standard clothing for a time-healing mission, circa early 1860s. There were many selections available, and Johnny chose a few white wing-tip dress shirts, a pair of black cotton trousers with a matching bow-tie, and a wool frock coat for the cold weather they’d be encountering in February 1861. Standard AL mission gloves and socks were designed to blend in for this era, so there was no problem there. He changed into his disguise, thanked the quartermaster, and headed towards the hangar to meet Argos.
He thought of his mother, and what she was doing. He missed her terribly and hoped she was alright. He wondered if there was another Johnny Veto, from this altered timeline, that was walking the streets of Phoenix, Arizona. He found this whole time distortion topic confusing and decided to leave this scientific stuff to the physicists.
In the hangar bay he saw Argos and an AL technician going over a few final details before launch. Argos wore a brown fedora with matching jacket, waistcoat and trousers with leather boots completing his costume. Jessie and Studs, upon seeing Johnny rushed up to him and barked at him playfully. “Hey there,” he said before loading his knapsack filled with supplies into Gina’s trunk.
“I’m ready Argos,” he said. Johnny was looking forward to the time-incursion. It was kinda scary going back in time, to an era that was vastly different than his own, but the sense of excitement caused by his adrenaline calmed his jitters. He was an AL operative now, and, he had to act like one.
“Get inside Gina,” Argos said. Johnny complied and allowed Jessie and Studs to hop into the back seat before riding shotgun. Gina’s monitor began blinking red, indicating an AL transmission and he switched it on. It was Patrice. “Good luck Johnny,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll do fine on your first mission.”
Johnny was surprised by her friendly demeanor, yet he managed a smile. “Thanks, Patrice.”
Argos took his place behind the steering wheel before Patrice repeated her well-wishes to him. He thanked her in return and deactivated the monitor before turning towards Johnny. “Hope you can overlook my little explosion in the conference room.”
“It’s forgotten Argos.”
Argos’ face assumed an abashed look. “Here I am lecturing you on maturity and I go and act like a hothead.”
“Like I said, man,” Johnny replied, “It’s cool.”
Jessie and Studs barked in unison, apparently they thought it was cool too.
“Not trying to make any excuses for my bad behavior, but when you find out the man who freed your people never got the chance to do so, and your race still hasn’t achieved civil rights, well, that’s an awful kick in the gut.”
“One thing I need to ask you,” Johnny said.
“Sure, Johnny, ask away.”
“Why is AL called American Legends?”
Argos smiled. “I feel so stupid. I’ve recruited you into AL and you’ve learned the reason of our existence and what we do, yet I never bothered to tell you the story of why we’re called AL. When the time-healing missions began, AL was known as NTSA, which stood for National Spacetime incursion Agency. But after a whi
le that didn’t sound right so our first director decided to change it due to the nature of our missions. He chose American Legends because often that’s who our extraterrestrial enemies would target. Usually plots to kill important Americans from the past: Dwight Eisenhower during World War II, George Washington during the Revolutionary War, and Andrew Jackson during the War of 1812.”
“Makes sense, man.”
Argos looked back at the Dobermans. “You ready, Jessie and Studs?”
Both dogs wagged their tails.
“Let’s do this Johnny. First, start with a Class One diagnostic—check on all of Gina’s life support systems: oxygen, water, energy consumption. Then, follow that up with a Class Two diagnostic on the defensive systems: cloak, smokescreen, oil slick, holographic beams and inhibitor.”
“What about the offensive systems?”
“We’ll check those too but I doubt we’ll be needing them. I plan on keeping Gina out of sight once we reach 1861.”
After all systems passed the control. Argos programmed the navigation computer for their destination. “Now that we’re configured for time-incursion, we’ll need to get up to 99.9 MPH to ignite the Spacetime Manipulator which allows Gina to move through time.”
Johnny and Argos buckled Jessie and Studs in the back seat before fastening themselves.
“How long does it take? To time-travel, that is,” Johnny asked.
“It varies per mission.” Argos eyed the navigation computer. “Roughly 180 minutes for this particular trip.”
Johnny hated to open the topic but he wanted to make sure Argos was alright. “Are you gonna be ok in 1861? I mean, we’re going back to a time when black folks were really hated, and slavery was still legal.”
Argos pulled out a paper document from his shirt pocket and showed it to Johnny. “This is a reproduction of a document that will clear me of being a fugitive slave should I be questioned. It’s called a Certificate of Freedom. So yes, provided I’m not verbally abused too badly I should be ‘alright.’ But I’d be lying to you if I said I’m looking forward to this mission.”
“I wonder how we’ll pass the time before we get to 1861?” Johnny said as Gina taxied onto a runway before Argos revved up the engine for the voyage. He was tapping his fingers against Gina’s armrest.
Argos grinned. “I know how you’re feeling; I remember my first mission. I’ve got just the story to entertain you for three hours. Did I ever tell you about my early days working as an AL operative?”
It was the third time this week Argos had been late for dinner. As he pulled up to his driveway in his fully-restored 1968 Camaro, he dreaded having to face his wife Gina. Not because he didn’t love her, but because of how she would react to his tardiness. After slipping out of the garage, he tiptoed up the steps to check on his kids. He peeked into Studs’ room through a crack in the door. The boy was studying and he decided not to disturb him. Next door down was Jessie’s room. He heard her talking on her smartphone and figured she was late-nite chit-chatting with one of her friends. He knocked on her door.
The talking stopped and he heard footsteps tiptoe towards the door. “Daddy!” she said throwing her arms around him. “Melissa I have to go,” she said into her phone before hanging up.
Argos sat next to her on the bed. “How’s my baby?”
“Fine,” she replied coyly, “how was work? Or is that classified?”
Argos rubbed his eyes. “That’s ok Jessie.” Despite the long hours at AL, he was enjoying the job, although his father Randal had taken over most of the duties for their Red Doberman breeding business, the old man didn’t mind, he loved dogs, just like Argos, and had a female Doberman called Mandy. “Where’s your mom?”
“She sat up past dinner waiting for you.” Jessie looked at him and stroked his cheek. “Poor Daddy, you look tired.”
“I feel tired baby.” He kissed her on the forehead and stood up. “I better go find her.”
“Probably half-asleep in bed.”
He couldn’t help feeling guilty. He’d promised her that after he retired from the military he’d take a security consulting position. Later, he’d surprised Gina with the dog breeding business, but she was alright with that, so long as he spent more time with the family. Then Scott Veto had appeared and teased him with the prospect of working with advanced technologies. Argos had always been a geek at heart, and the AL position had been too good to pass up.
He slipped inside the bedroom and saw Gina curled up on the bed. She wore a turquoise robe, and a magazine was tucked under her arm. Argos gently removed it and placed it on the nightstand, causing his wife to stir from her sleep. “Is that you Argos?” she whispered.
“Yes, ma’am.” He kissed his wife’s lips and took in the smell of her perfume. “I’m sorry I’m late…again.”
“Getting’ to be a bad habit Mr. Better. So tell me,” she began, her eyes half open, “any plans on how we can fix this?”
“I wish I could tell you more about AL, Gina; but they’re a fledgling agency, and they really need my skills, I can’t just bail on them.”
She looked at him, nodded peacefully and took his hand. There wasn’t a trace of resentment in her glance, only that of a tired woman who loved him. His heart felt heavy in his chest, and every time he drew breath, it got heavier. “You don’t have to apologize, Argos, I only wish we could see you more.” Gina drifted back to sleep and Argos pulled the covers over his wife before gently kissing her on the lips. He closed the door behind him and headed downstairs to the kitchen.
He found Rusty waiting for him there. The Red Doberman, as always, was happy to see him. He hugged his canine friend and poured fresh water into his bowl. As Rusty lapped up his water Argos wondered what the future would hold for him. Like any decent father, his family was the only thing he truly loved, but his AL duties helped safeguard countless other families across the globe. “What should I do?” Argos asked Rusty.
Rusty finished with his water and looked up at Argos, who stroked the warm fur on his back. “The scary thing is I don’t know what to do; but, I have to do something.”
That night, lying in bed next to his wife, he made a decision.
The next day he moved out of his home and rented a room at a local hotel.
Part 2: Time-Healers
Chapter 13
February 22, 1861
As Gina touched down outside Baltimore, Johnny reflected on the trip. It had been an interesting story, albeit sad. He was lucky that he didn’t have the same issue, it would’ve been a challenge for him as well.
Still, Johnny felt more apprehension for his friend. How would this primitive era—which still regarded American Blacks as inferior—receive Argos?
He pushed those troubling thoughts from his head as they located a clearing where Gina could be hidden. After activating the cloak, they set off for Baltimore with Jessie and Studs scouting ahead this time.
“Using the cloak to mask Gina will use up half of the reserves, but there should still be enough energy to get us back.”
Despite this, Johnny knew that they couldn’t waste precious energy. AL’s resources were limited and they only had one other operational time-travel device. If by some aberrant chance they weren’t able to get back, AL would send a retrieval team to find them, but he knew Argos wouldn’t leave it to that. Besides, they couldn’t fail this mission. Too much was at stake.
It was a cold day, as a hazy sun shone down on them from a sky devoid of clouds. After they found a road that would take them towards Baltimore, Johnny heard a gaggle of crows squawking. He looked to the side of the road and found them huddled together on a high branch of a barren tree. “I’m no fan of crows, Argos.”
“I’ve got no love for ‘em either Johnny, but they’re harmless. It’s the people of this era we’ve got to watch out for, especially the bigots.” He took out his scanner and began checking for readings, while Johnny looked around nervously to make sure they weren’t being watched.
“Relax, man,
” Argos said, “there isn’t another human around for 2 kilometers.”
“What’s the exact date?” Johnny asked. He had left his wristlink back at AL headquarters, and was now regretting it.
“February 22, 1861. Less than a day before Lincoln’s supposed to pass through Baltimore. You know you’re supposed to carry your wristlink with you at all times?”
Johnny nodded. “I was afraid I’d lose it. The guidebook I read during my training was quite particular about losing equipment in the past; it was called time contamination. Besides I figured I could leave it behind since I’m with you.”
Argos didn’t look convinced by Johnny’s excuse. “One thing I’m gonna drill into your memory is that book knowledge shouldn’t be followed blindly without first assessing the situation. Keep in mind that it was written by an AL scientist with zero field experience. Suppose I get killed or we get separated, then what?”
“I’m sorry Argos.”
“That’s alright, just don’t let it happen again.”
Mentis had awoken earlier that day in his hotel room and was looking forward to killing the famous human called Lincoln. He already knew the American President would be traveling to Baltimore via an ancient locomotive vehicle. He checked himself in the mirror, his Lycarian features concealed under a human disguise. How ugly these humans are, he thought amusedly. He looked forward to completing the mission and discarding the disguise.
His contact from the future, an arrogant officer named Grendis, had arrived yesterday to give him the virus from the future. It had been sealed in a Lycarian vial to prevent any breakage.