Guns And Dogs
Page 11
A knock at his door alerted him of room service and he answered it. It was a young girl wearing a maid’s uniform and head cap carrying a tray of food. “You asked the front desk to have your lunch brought to you Mr. Mentis,” she said obediently. He nodded and motioned for her to leave it on the sofa table. Even though his field rations provided him with ample nourishment, he couldn’t risk looking suspicious to these humans. So, for the sake of appearances he would eat their noxious food.
After the maid had left he dressed himself in his 1860s era clothing and grabbed his wolf head cane equipped with the delivery system that would infect Lincoln with the Ebola. In a matter of days, he would be dead, and American history would be irreparably changed.
“This assignment is almost too easy,” he muttered as he left his hotel suite. Walking the streets of Baltimore, he nodded politely to other passers-by, imitating the behavior of an 1860s American gentleman. Fools. I wonder what they’d think if they knew their nation’s future would be stunted by a virus that didn’t even exist. Until now.
Tendrils of cold mist rose from his mouth as he inhaled the crisp clean air. He appreciated its cleanliness. His home planet’s once-pristine atmosphere had been polluted by centuries of industrial toxins.
He took a taxi carriage to scope out the train station. According to Grendis’ intelligence report, this is where Lincoln’s carriage would arrive. In the original timeline the new President had passed through Baltimore undetected. A human detective named Alan Pinkerton—who had been hired to protect the President—had seen to this.
Not this time. Mentis was armed with technology half a millennia more advanced than any technology available to mankind in 1861.
He paid the taxi driver and exited the carriage. The train station looked like any other of this era. He studied the floor plan, which Grendis had provided him and knew the station inside-out. Now the only thing left to do was wait for the arrival of Lincoln and make sure he left Baltimore infected with the Ebola plague.
It was ingenious really. By the time Lincoln exhibited any symptoms it would be too late and the medieval medical knowledge of this era meant an outbreak would be inevitable. As a result, there would be collateral damage as thousands would die who had not died before.
He knew Lincoln would be vulnerable during the transfer of his carriage between the Calvert Street Station of the Northern Central Railway and the Camden Street Station of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. Fortunately he knew where to position himself to get the best shot off.
After he was satisfied with his inspection of the train station, he decided to walk back to his hotel. Mentis always thought more effectively when he walked, and he would enjoy this clean air as much as possible. Unexpectedly, a loud chirp from his proximity sensor went off. He cursed as it chirped again inside his coat pocket before silencing it. Luckily, none of the other local pedestrians had heard it, or else it could’ve brought unwanted attention.
He ducked into an alleyway and looked around to make sure no one was around. The readings on it indicated an antimatter energy signature. His pulse quickened and he cursed in his native tongue. “How could this be? These people are at least two centuries away from technology that could harness antimatter.”
Unless someone from the future had found him. But who could it be? Lycarian time-travel was a closely-guarded state secret. He decided to break communication silence and contact Grendis to relay this information. Shoving his proximity sensor back into his pocket he quickened his pace back to the hotel.
(2)
Johnny felt like he and Argos were characters in a vintage Civil War film. But in reality they had bent the laws of physics and journeyed over a century and a half back in time to an era right before the turbulent war between the states would split the United States in two, and pit brother against brother in a bloody conflict.
Much to Johnny’s relief Argos had yet to experience any racist taunts. Except one, a police officer approached them and asked his friend his business. When Argos had shown the cop his ‘freedom certificate,’ they’d been allowed to continue on their way. “I kinda enjoyed that,” Argos said before a sheepish grin stretched across his face, revealing a set of straight white teeth.
“I bet you did.” Johnny was glad Argos could exact a measure of retribution against the flawed status quo of this era that allowed slavery. But he remained silent and kept his eyes on the tiny type-II scanner Argos had loaned him.
“Find any strange readings?”
Johnny shook his head to indicate that he hadn’t. “What exactly are we looking for?”
“Now you sound like a rookie. Think back to your training. Think hard.”
If Argos’ statement was meant to put him on the spot, it worked. “When engaged in a time-healing excursion. First course of action is to check for anomalous readings not concurrent with the era.”
Argos nodded. “So, in a nutshell, we’re looking for anything that’s Lycarian. But if I know our enemy, he’s most likely disguised. I doubt you’ll see any werewolf-like creatures roaming the streets.”
They found a bench and sat down. Across the street from them two men exited a tavern laughing hysterically. Upon seeing Johnny and Argos, they wobbled towards them. Johnny could smell the alcohol coming from them from across the street.
“Well looky here Jake,” the taller of the two said to his friend. He wore a raggedy brown coat with patched-up trousers, and his boots were caked with dry mud. “Looks like junior here brought along his pet negro.” When he laughed Johnny noticed that the man was missing a few teeth.
“Sure looks like it, Bubba,” the shorter one replied. “Hey boy, shouldn’t you be off tending sheep somewhere?”
Johnny watched as Argos rose from his bench and got in the face of the two locals. “I happen to be a free man, boy!”
Johnny grabbed Argos’ arm. “C’mon, we really don’t need any trouble. Not now.”
“Listen to your white friend, Negro,” Bubba said. His breath reeked of alcohol and he shot Johnny a condescending look, as if daring him to make a move. Johnny clenched his fists and prepared himself. Jessie and Studs followed suit by growling at Bubba and Jake.
“You boys causing trouble again?” It was the policeman that had stopped Johnny and Argos earlier.
“Who? Us?” Bubba said innocently. “Now why would two church-goin’ fellas like me and Jake cause any trouble?”
“Because I know you two so well,” the cop replied sternly. “Church-goin’ fellas my foot.” He drew his nightstick. “Get goin’ boys, and leave these two alone.”
Bubba and Jake grunted at the policeman. “Aww Phil, you never let us have any fun,” Jake said before he and Bubba ambled off.
Who says there’s never a cop around when you need one, Johnny thought. He exhaled and unclenched his fist, while Argos continued eying the backs of the two racist locals. “Thanks for your help, officer,” Johnny said.
“Before you go thanking me Son, I wanna tell you I didn’t do it for your sakes, and especially not his.” Officer Phil jerked his thumb at Argos. “I just don’t want no trouble on my watch, especially now that everyone’s making such a hoot and holler about the new President passing through.
“When is he supposed to come through?” Argos asked.
“Damned if I know, friend,” Officer Phil said. “It’s a pain to watch the streets when everybody in this city wants to catch a glimpse of the new President.” He sighed. “Now you two fellers here best git outta here. I got nutin’ against black folk but there’s a few people round these parts who enjoy hanging and lynching Negros for sport.” He pointed at Argos. “Even yer freedom certificate wouldn’t be able to save ya against those damn crazies.”
“I see,” Argos replied. Johnny wondered what was going through his friend’s mind now. Probably nothing good.
“So go on, shoo,” Phil said. “I mean it.” He waved his nightstick at them. “And don’t let me catch you mixing it up with those ne’er-do-wells again.”
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“Ok,” Johnny replied, before he and Argos picked up their belongings and decided to stay out of sight.
(3)
“An antimatter energy signature? Impossible.” The image of Grendis spoke through time while Mentis listened. “Humanity is centuries away from developing such advanced technology.”
Mentis hated it when his superiors second-guessed him. It almost made him feel inferior. Perhaps that’s what Grendis wanted. “My Lord, I swear it.” Mentis looked at Grendis resolutely. “If you wish, I can send a copy of the scan. The readings will confirm my suspicions.”
Grendis rubbed his chin. “Very well, send your scan, and I shall have a look at it. Is there anything else, Mentis?”
“I request instructions on how to proceed. I cannot risk the success of this mission. The liability would be disastrous.”
“It would be disastrous, for all of us. There have been rumors of a human security agency in possession of advanced technology. But it has never been confirmed. I will have to check on my end to see if I can learn anything.” He thought for a moment as Mentis watched his holographic figure sputter before regaining its full shape. “Investigate further, but do not jeopardize the mission, Mentis. Do I make myself clear?”
Mentis nodded. “One more thing..if I locate the origin of this antimatter signature, should I report my findings to you?”
“No,” Grendis answered, “we don’t have time for that. If you locate the origin of the signature terminate it, with extreme antipathy.”
After ending the transmission, Mentis gathered his supplies and drew up a plan to find out who had traveled here to track him. Most likely humans, but from where? If there was truly an agency serving human interests, he could help his government exponentially by learning more about them. Then he could negotiate for a promotion from an advantageous position. But only if he reported his findings to Grendis’ superiors—since he did not trust his overly-ambitious contact.
It was settled. He would go hunting for these humans, and when he found them he would extract as much information possible before killing them.
He configured his cane to its paralysis setting and activated his proximity sensor. There was still a trace of antiparticles in the vicinity. According to his sensor it originated outside Baltimore. He would take a taxi carriage to the city limits and then locate the source on foot.
After the taxi had taken him as far as it could go, Mentis paid the driver and set off on foot. The road leading away from the city was muddy due to the winter weather conditions and soon his trouser cuffs were caked with mud. The antimatter signature became stronger the farther he got from Baltimore, and he knew he was headed in the right direction. The time-travelers were no doubt armed with advanced technology, and he was careful to scan for any additional energy signatures that could reveal countermeasures designed to ensnare him.
His proximity sensor soon led him to a clearing where the antimatter signature originated from.
The clearing was fairly large, surrounded by trees and shrubbery. An ideal place to hide a vehicle from the future, he thought. But where exactly was it?
He adjusted his proximity sensor readings to get the sharpest reading possible, and, after it had located something, he locked onto its position before moving towards it.
It wasn’t visible; it had been cloaked. Mentis figured it for some sort of strange time-traveling shuttle or pod. He decided against trying to penetrate the cloak and gaining admittance to it. He knew it would be programmed to alert its owners of an unauthorized presence, and the last thing Mentis wanted was to be detected.
Still. He was curious.
His scouting mission a success, Mentis headed back to Baltimore. Once he had dealt with his pursuers he would alert a Lycarian recovery team to retrieve the time-travelling vehicle. His nose had picked up the scent of its two occupants and he could now easily track them once he’d fed this data into his proximity sensor. A huge advantage since they would no doubt be unable to identify him regardless of his human disguise. He entered his actions into his time log and jogged back to Baltimore.
His sensor, now programmed with the scent of his enemies pointed him in the direction of their whereabouts.
After one Earth hour had elapsed, he finally caught up with them. One was a dark-skinned man, the other, a white-skinned youth. They were both disguised in clothing from this era. With them were two imposing canines. He found it disgruntling to see these two creatures: were they scouts? Or did they serve another purpose? Mentis did not like unknown variables since it put him at a disadvantage, and in his line of work that could be fatal. Turning his attention back to his human quarry he focused on their gait and mannerisms. The older one, the dark-skinned man, seemed confident. Mentis knew this from having dealt with various opponents over the years. The confident ones were often calm and collected.
His companion, the young white youth, seemed nervous, as if he did not feel comfortable in his surroundings. Perhaps he was a neophyte.
Whoever these two were, Mentis would find out soon enough.
Chapter 14
Night was falling on the streets of Baltimore. The heavens were a swirl violet hue, while grey clouds resembled brushstrokes against the evening sky.
“Wish we could spend our money on food or get a nice hotel room to relax in,” Johnny said. Both Jessie and Studs looked at him wearily. He had a feeling the dogs were tired of field rations as well.
“We need to conserve our limited funds in case of a major emergency. Look: we’re not here for a vacation Johnny. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re here to fix history, and there’s someone out there who’s intent on changing it.” Johnny had gotten used to some of the locals staring at him in a disgruntled manner. He attributed this to having Argos with him. Probably wondering why a well-dressed white man was traveling alongside a Negro. He felt like yelling at them, and chiding all who gave him stares that Argos was his equal and that they themselves were inferior for thinking otherwise. But other than Bubba and Jake, no one else made any threats against them.
“Wait a minute,” Argos said. He motioned for Johnny to follow him towards a storefront alcove. The shopkeeper was closing up and cast a suspicious glare at them. But when Jessie and Studs growled at him he ran back inside his shop and slammed the door.
“What is it?”
“Picking up a strange reading.” Johnny looked around to make sure there weren’t any bystanders. It would be hard to explain to these people what a 21st century scanning device was.
“So c’mon, bro, tell me what’s up?”
Argos showed his scans to Johnny, whose eyes lit up like a supernova. “These are Lycarian readings,” he said excitedly. An elderly couple passing by stared at them before shuffling on.
“Yes,” Argos replied. “But keep your voice down.”
“If these readings are correct, and I think they are, then I think we’ve found our man. Or wolf. This must be the operative sent to kill Lincoln.”
“Easy, now,” Argos said as he took back his scanner. “We don’t wanna spook him.” Then resumed their walk. Johnny thought hard, he wanted to impress Argos with a plan that would help them apprehend the Lycarian assassin.
“He’s bound to be looking for us too. If he hasn’t found us already.” They stopped under a street lamp. Its light burned lazily, emitting a yellow shimmer that cast a warm glow over them. “If he’s scanned the area, he’s probably detected our antimatter signature. In which case it’s going to be a battle of wits to see who can outmaneuver who.”
“I wonder how many Lycarians there are?” Johnny eyed a small tavern across the street. An aroma of roasted meat greeted his nostrils and he really didn’t want to have field rations tonight.
“Usually one; but not more than two.
It was getting cold and Johnny rubbed his hands together for warmth. “Hey Argos, can we go inside that tavern there? The temperature’s dropping.”
Argos pocketed his scanner and shook his head. “We’d at
tract too much attention, the four of us that is.”
“C’mon. Just for a few minutes.” Johnny started walking towards the tavern.
Argos nodded. “Alright, Johnny. But at the first sight of trouble, we’re outta there. No sense risking the mission just because you’ve got cold toes.” Argos looked at Jessie and Studs. “You two keep out of sight for a bit; we’re going across the street to hang out inside that tavern.” The dogs didn’t look too happy being left outside, but they weren’t in any danger of freezing.
Argos caught up to Johnny who held the tavern door open for his friend. Inside was bustling with activity: about a half dozen wooden tables decorated the place, with patrons crowded around them in chairs. Some were drinking and laughing, while others were playing cards. Two bartenders were busy serving drinks behind a wooden bar while an accordion player played a merry tune.
“I can’t help but feel sorry for these folks,” Argos said.
“Why?” Johnny smiled. “They look like they’re having a good ole’ time.”
“No professional sports teams to follow, and no television to watch the games on either.”
Johnny chuckled. “You’re boring, bro. C’mon.”
Argos followed Johnny towards a stone fireplace where a bright yellow flame was flickering and decided to follow. The warmth of the fire felt good and he wished Jessie and Studs were here to enjoy it too.
A couple of gruff looking men drinking at the bar cast brutish stares at Argos, and Johnny figured another altercation was imminent, but they turned their attention back to their drinking.
“Haven’t seen you gentlemen here before,” said an amiable voice that rose above the din of tavern patrons.
Johnny noticed a young man with wavy black hair and a bushy mustache sitting at a table adjacent the fireplace. He was dressed eloquently in a black bowtie and jacket with matching trousers. In his hand was a mug of beer. For some reason the man seemed vaguely familiar to Johnny. But from where?