by Wesley Chu
“This should be easy,” she said. “Year 2208. Juliano Bishop, a dear friend of mine from the Technology Isolationists. Fantastic logician and even better general. The man was always twenty steps ahead of our opposition. He actually died in 2210, but with the way my faction broke, I calculate the ripple will be quite minimal, especially since—”
Levin shook his head. “No. I won’t do it.”
“—the last few years were actually quite tragic for…” Grace stopped. “Beg pardon?”
He stood up. “We’ve gone over this. I won’t go back and retrieve a person. I’ve already bent enough Time Laws for this supposed greater good, but I’m not retrieving someone.”
“I don’t make this decision lightly, Levin. We need him. The Elfreth need him.”
“I don’t care. I’m running the salvages and I draw the line at another human.”
“If it’s because it’s two years before his death, I can work around that. There’s an incident three months before the Battle of Charon that—”
“I won’t do it!” he roared, slamming his fist on the wall. “In fact, I don’t even want to jump at all anymore. What are we doing, Grace? I mean, really. What the abyss are we doing?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Most chronmen just resort to alcohol. But if you must know, we’re fighting to give us a chance to cure the planet of the Earth Plague.”
“Is that really what we’ve been up to?” Levin stormed off into the cargo hold in the back. He kicked the door open and gestured at the small stockpile he had obtained from his last two jumps. He jabbed a finger at the three pitiful piles of scraps that ChronoCom would never have spent the resources salvaging. “This is how we’re doing it? You think this is going to solve anything?” He flipped the top off one of the crates and pulled out several stacks of empty plastic containers holding even smaller containers inside. He picked up a pile of these worthless things and scattered them to the ground. “You send me back to the twenty-second century to a doomed supply transport to get boxes of plastic boxes. What the abyss is going on!”
They stood in the cargo hold in silence for several minutes. Finally, Grace trotted over to one of the spilled containers and picked it up. She pushed a little button in its side and watched as a lid folded over the top with a small sucking sound and the sides of the containers frosted over.
She tossed it to Levin. “Invented during the early days of the Famine’s March that wiped out entire cities. World War Three had just ended, and every country was scarred by the conflict. Food production was at fifteen percent of prewar days. Do you know what kept mankind alive? This thing!” She picked up another container and tossed it at him. “These worthless pieces of plastic are not only airtight, they freeze their contents for months, are antibacterial, and utilize so little energy I can almost power them with my body heat. What do you think the Elfreth need right now living in the dank and dark permanent fog of New York?”
He hadn’t realized what the boxes were. He bent down and began picking up the scattered containers. One by one, he placed the smallest into the one sized larger, and again until they were all neatly compartmentalized. He held the final, largest box in his hand and stared. His hands were still trembling.
Levin suddenly felt deeply ashamed and very foolish. He hadn’t lost his temper like this since his early days at the Academy. He had been raised in the harsh and unforgiving tunnels of Oberon. He had been an undisciplined youth, wild and always fighting for stupid and prideful reasons. Finally, unable to control him and tired of paying his many fines, his father had sent him off to the ChronoCom Academy, either to straighten him out or to see him dead.
Even then, it took several years of bad mishaps, a few nearly getting him tossed from the Academy his first two years, before he settled down and became a semblance of a productive member of society. It took the combined effort of all in the Academy—his teachers, mentors, and fellow initiates—for him to get his head straight.
In the end, he suffered an unknown amount of beatings, punishments, and solitary confinements before he became hardened and disciplined enough to achieve the tier and eventually the chain. Once he did, though, he learned to appreciate the agency and the institution that was able to forge who he was from who he used to be. It was a monumental task, once thought impossible by those close to him.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I’m just frustrated. I don’t see what we’re doing actually accomplishing anything.”
Grace put a hand on his arm. “We make do with what we have, Auditor. We’re three minds, you two barbarians, and a group of primitive aborigines in a bunch of hovels trying to cure the entire planet. The cards are stacked against us. I know our odds are low.”
“What is the point?” he asked again, resigned, for the dozenth time. “We’re hunted by the authorities, disrupting the chronostream, and risking innocent lives. For what?”
Grace Priestly chuckled. “Because that’s what dead people do. Titus, myself, Elise, even James, to an extent. We’re all living on borrowed time, determined to make one last difference to justify our continuing existence, even if it seems impossible. You, on the other hand, had a life. You were part of an institution that gave you purpose and provided a vehicle for you to make a difference. Now you’ve lost that, and it pisses the hell out of you.”
Damn woman could look right into his soul.
It takes an institution. Something about that word nagged at Levin. The words and images he couldn’t quite focus on swirled in his head for several moments. Then it was as if all the pieces suddenly fit together neatly and crystalized into a clear image. It was so easy. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?
“I understand now.” Levin put the boxes back into their shipping crate and closed the lid. He walked with renewed purpose out of the hold toward the cockpit. “We’ve been approaching this all wrong. When do we head back to Earth? I need to speak with James.”
Grace trailed close behind. “We still have that job retrieving Juliano.”
“I told you I’m not doing that.”
“Even after our little pep talk?”
He looked back at her with a rare smile. “Especially after our little pep talk. Come on, let’s go.”
FORTY
BEING A LEADER
“Teacher, words cannot begin to express my shame. I assure you this will never happen again.” Elise sat in Crowe’s office and kept a brave but humble front. Word of the incident had spread across the entire All Galaxy with few of the tall tales being anything close to the truth. The version Rima heard was that James was so drunk that he could barely stand, and that he had thrashed everyone at the barricade, Elfreth and Flatirons alike. And when noble Maanx tried to stop him, James nearly killed him, beating him to within inches of his life.
There were a hundred worse variations of the incident, each one more terrible than the previous. Some coming from the Flatirons were particularly far-fetched, claiming that Maanx had caught James in an act of espionage and that he was working for the Co-op. Others said James was on his way to assassinate the Teacher and was trying to take control of the All Galaxy for himself. No matter the stories, they got two facts correct: James was drinking, and he battered the son of the Flatiron teacher. Now she had a much larger problem to worry about. The trust and alliance they had so carefully nurtured over the past two months seemed overshadowed by this one incident. If an Elfreth elder could be so violent and unhinged, what did it say about the tribe that made him their champion? Elise didn’t blame Flatirons for wondering.
However, she also knew that what she, the Elfreth, and the Manhattan Nation had built here was too important, and they had gone too far for the Elfreth to be expelled. The Co-op danger was too close and all the tribes were too committed to this war. Not only was the All Galaxy the heart of the new government, it was also where all the tribes had centered their defenses. That meant expelling the Elfreth was not an option. If the Flatirons pressed that point, it would leave them with only one choice.<
br />
“There are many voices saying the chronman, or even all of your tribe, should be expelled,” Crowe said, sitting at his desk. He remained calm, but she had spent enough time with him over the past few weeks to know he was furious. In many ways, he reminded her of Qawol. The old Elfreth Oldest was equally warm, wise, and hard at the same time.
“It is just one mishap, Teacher. We are taking steps right now to ensure this will never happen again.” She tried to hide the worry in her voice. “We’ve built so much in such a short period. We can’t throw it all away.”
“I would not wish it so.” Crowe nodded. “However, I will not allow today’s incident to repeat, so how can you guarantee this will not happen again?”
Elise closed her eyes. What could she do? James’s problem wasn’t something they could cure. Things with him were bound to get much worse before they got better. Alcoholism during her time had decreased even though the amount of alcohol people drank had increased. Education and moderation were the key. There wasn’t a magic pill to cure James’s problem.
“I … I cannot promise that,” she said.
“Then I cannot allow him to stay in the tower,” said Crowe. “I’m sorry, child.”
Elise’s world shattered as the image of banishing James ran through her head. She knew she couldn’t do it. It had been less than a year since they had first met, but James was everything to her. He was the rock she relied on in this crazy future world when everything else around her had gone to hell. Whenever she needed him, he was there, sometimes even when she didn’t want him there. She knew he was devoted to her through and through. The very thought of turning her back on him and sending him away made her sick. She just couldn’t do it.
“Give me a chance to help him,” she pleaded. “He’s a good person. I owe him, the Elfreth owe him that. Please.”
There was a long silence, broken only by Crowe drumming his fingers on the desk. He looked off to the side and then finally back at Elise. “You will isolate him on his floor away from the rest. He is forbidden from the barricades or any Flatirons until he is no longer ill. If he relapses even once among my people, he is gone that day. Is that understood?”
Elise nodded several times. “Thank you, Teacher. James is a good man. He’s suffered much in his life. He just needs my support and love. I need to be there for him. I am to blame.”
“He is a chronman. It comes with their work.”
“You wouldn’t understand half the things he’s gone through. The suffering and dreams. He’s only told me some of it, whatever I could bear to hear, but the drinking is how he copes.”
Crowe got up from his wingback chair and walked over to the cabinet in the corner of his office. He opened one of the doors and pulled out a small box. He stared at it for a brief moment before returning to her. He put the box in her hands.
“I know more than you could possibly imagine.”
Elise’s breath caught. Inside the box was a set of broken bands. She hesitantly picked up half a shattered exo and held it up. They were old, chipped and dulled, but nevertheless there could be no mistake about what they were. “You were a chronman?”
“A Tier-4.” Crowe’s voice was soft. “I cracked early, but held until I was near being raised a tier. The thought of continuing was too much, but I didn’t have the courage to poke a giant in the eye. I salvaged often near the upper atmosphere of Jupiter. I’d seen the planet’s force hundreds of times. Instead, I fled here and became a hermit until eventually, the Flatirons adopted me, very much as the Elfreth adopted you and your chronman.”
“Does James know?” Elise asked.
Crowe shook his head. “He does not need to know, though it is not a secret. I’m sure I’m on some ChronoCom list somewhere. I doubt they care so much about me anymore, but it would please me if you did not make a point of it.”
Elise nodded. “I promise, Teacher.”
Crowe walked her to the door. “You need to isolate and put a guard on him at all times. He’ll need support from you and his loved ones. That will be what sees him through.”
“Have you had experience dealing with alcoholism?” she asked.
Crowe smiled. “That was how I got through it. It’s practically part of the job description.”
Elise thanked the Teacher several more times before hurrying up the stairs to James’s residence. This was one of the few times she was grateful there wasn’t a working elevator in this building, though rumors were rampant Grace and Titus were nearly ready with a prototype. She needed the thirty-two floors to tweak her demeanor from apologetic to enraged, and she spent the time walking up the stairwell working herself into a huff. By the time she reached the sixty-sixth floor, she was mad as Gaia and ready to confront him.
She eyed the two guards as she stomped toward his quarters. “Anything to report?”
“He’s been quiet,” Poll, the one on the right, said.
“Oldest, if he does try to come out, do you really want us to stop him?” the other guardian asked. “He’s the chronman.”
Elise looked at the clubs both of them had holstered at their sides. A crazed James would cut right through these two. Heck, even with guns he’d probably make short work of them. Still, it’d be better to give them a chance.
“Go see Eriao and ask for better weapons. Something that doesn’t kill, like a stun gun or something.” Did that even exist in this time? She wasn’t sure, but she had a feeling they might need it over the next few days. “Unlock the door.”
They did so, and Elise kicked it open as hard as she could. Unfortunately, it was a heavy door and the kick didn’t quite have the result she intended. Still, hands balled into fists, she stormed into his residence. “You’re in so much trouble, mister.”
James, sitting in a chair looking out the window, lowered his head. “Is everything all right with the Flatirons?”
“For now, but kicking the Teacher’s son’s ass makes for awful public relations.”
“I bet that punk is reveling in this right now.”
“Actually, James, Maanx is the one guy who is making the smallest deal about this. He tried to excuse you entirely.”
“But I’m not, am I?”
“No. The Flatirons and not a small number of Elfreth are scared of you.”
“Have I been expelled from the All Galaxy?”
“Of course not, you fool,” she said, walking up to him. She pulled a chair over and threw her arm around his shoulder. “I won’t let that happen, but we have to do something about this.”
He bowed his head. The sadness painted on his face broke her heart. “I’m sorry. I can’t help myself.”
She put his head in her hands and pulled him in to her chest. “You’re just sick. We’ll get through this together. Are you willing to let me help?”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“Stop saying that,” she said. “Listen, I’m going to have to make some changes, and it’s going to suck. I need you on board with me. Do you understand?”
“Whatever it takes.”
Elise stood up. “Good. For the next few weeks, I’m your mother and boss, not your lover or friend. You got me?” He nodded. She made a circle around his room. “The first thing we need to do is to get you through detox. From this point on, you’re officially grounded. You aren’t allowed off this floor for a month.”
“A month!” James looked horrified. “But what about the flyguards? The defense of the tower? The scouting and foraging trips?”
“Your only job right now is to get better,” she said. “You’re lucky I’m only restricting you to the floor, not just this room. I’m going to have some people come in a bit and turn everything upside down to make sure you don’t have any weapons or booze lying about. Then I’m posting a guard”—she paused—“a couple of guards here around the clock with full permission to kick your ass if you get out of line. And if you start causing trouble, I’m going to have you restrained. You get me?”
James frowned. “I thought
you were just going to inject me with an antidote or put me to work doing hard labor. That, I can deal with. I didn’t think you were going to imprison me.”
“You’re not in jail, James. You’re in rehab.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“It’s going to be worse, actually, but I’m going to be with you every step of the way. Sasha will, too, and so will Grace, Titus, and everyone else. You’re part of the Elfreth whether they like it or not. Even Franwil will be here.”
“Her I can do without,” he grunted.
“Then I’ll make sure she comes twice a day.”
James stood up and walked over to her, putting both of her hands in his. “I said I’d do whatever it takes, so I’ll do this. When do I start? I’d like to get some stuff taken care of before I get under house arrest.”
Elise tsked. “Oh, darling. House arrest started the second we put you up here. Now sit, stay, and behave. I’ll have someone bring you breakfast in the morning.”
FORTY-ONE
SINGLE OPTION
The Valkyrie ship landed in a blue streak of light followed by an expanding ring of kicked-up dust. Senior Securitate Kuo stepped off the ship and strolled through the ruins of Manhattan. According to her AI module, she was standing at the intersection of Broadway and 110th Street.
This was one of the few areas on the island, still, where there was actually land. On both sides of the street, giant long-abandoned skyscrapers, with black windows like eyes, stared down at her. She ignored them, just as she did the mounds of rubble on the ground and the layers of gunk covering the building surfaces.
To her left, a slurpy brown river flowed at a leisurely place, making a sharp turn at the bend at the end of the block. The original bridge, connecting two buildings, had been long-destroyed and was replaced by a temporary metal crossing hastily erected by her troopers. The new bridge, just weeks old, already looked weathered and corroded. The elements on this planet were harsh.