The Time Stone (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 1)

by Robert F Hays

  “So you do know about it. I thought everything was being kept from the media.”

  “I do have my sources. Being well informed is good for business.”

  “Do you know who it is?”

  “No, but we’re trying to find out. Having you alive is to our advantage. My music company has just purchased rights to part of your music collection and background information on the artist would boost sales. Tell me, what’s your opinion of this Elvis Presley singer? Is he any good?”

  “I like him. Grew up listening to him. But I didn’t come here to discuss classical music. What I need is a new face, voice and personal records, as well as access to my money.”

  “I can arrange all that. I can have your money bounced off the banks of twenty planets, totally untraceable. I must say that I’m quite honored that you came to me for assistance.”

  “In that case I have a good will gift for you.” Jim reached into his bag and retrieved an object wrapped in plastic protective padding.

  Montoya shook his head and gave a slight wave with his hand. “Totally unnecessary I can assure you.”

  Jim handed it to Montoya. “I used to take trips down to Mexico. In Nueva Rosita there was a small china factory. Good quality stuff. I picked that up for about half a G.”

  Montoya unwrapped the small ornamental china plate and turned it over to read the hallmark. His hands began to tremble and his face turned to an expression of astonishment.

  “Ah... do you know what this is worth?”

  “I have a good idea.”

  “I would pay millions for this. It’s the only example of pre-Exodus Montoya china in existence. That is unless you have another.”

  “No, that’s the only one I still have. I won’t tell you what happened to the other piece I had. It’d upset you.”

  “Are you sure you wish to part with it?”

  “Yep, to me this is just a plate, and I already have more money than I need.”

  Montoya reverently held the plate up to catch the light from the window. “I believe I will erect a new building just to display this piece.”

  “That’s an upgrade. It used to hang in my bathroom,” Jim said chuckling to himself at the irony.

  “Mr. Young, anything you want, I’m at your service. Stay here while things are being taken care of.”

  “I have three friends back at the hotel...”

  “Bring them; the guest suites are being prepared.”

  “Do you know anything about the Children of the Prophet Elijah.”

  “No, nothing, but I’m finding out right now.”

  “At this moment?”

  Montoya reached for his ear and showed Jim the ear plug. “My private secretary is on the computer net.”

  “Those things are handy. Only used one once and that was....” Jim stopped mid-sentence. Montoya’s eyebrows had shot up and his expression had changed to one of amazement.

  “For a Church, they’re certainly unusual. Have assets everywhere. In fact, they may be the wealthiest religious organization in the galaxy. They own a small planet in the Trajan system used mostly as a retreat. Outside Commonwealth law as it’s a religious organization and declared a sovereign state.”

  “Can I go there?”

  Montoya paused for a second. “Not on your own. No commercial liners go their. They have their own local liner that transports people from another planet in the same system. You’ll have to go there first.”

  “My new identity. Can you make me the owner of a business in financial trouble, under medical treatment for depression and getting professional help for marriage problems?”

  “Yes, Dollison Electronics. A small company, one of ours, we use it as a tax write off. In fact, it’d be easy as we already have a fictitious identity listed as co-owner. It’d be a simple matter to adapt. We just have to change the place where you grew up and were educated. Change it to a farming community on Regis.”

  “Oh yes,” Jim chuckled. “The way I speak. I use the contractions, ‘don’t’, ‘won’t’ and ‘can’t’. City guys don’t.”

  Is there a reason why you want to appear to be in difficulties?”

  “Yes,” Jim replied with a smile. “I’m going to get religion.”

  * * *

  Jim sat at the telephone console. Jymen, Montoya’s private secretary placed the call for him.

  “Hello,” Chris’s voice answered the phone.

  “So you got there, how’s it going?” Jim asked lightheartedly.

  “Jim, how are you?”

  “It’s Frank, Frank Dollison and I’m fine. Pack up; we’re staying here a few days. Santiago invited us to go horseback riding tomorrow morning before I go into minor surgery.”

  “Santiago?”

  * * *

  At dinner the foursome sat with Santiago, head of the notorious crime family and his youngest son Raul. Celia seemed the most jittery. She jumped every time an autoserve appeared at her right shoulder.

  The atmosphere at dinner was refined. Six courses served on antique china plates hundreds of years old.

  Santiago was proud of the fact that the meals were all prepared by hand instead of by an appliance. The chef, having studied at some of the top schools, was one of the highest paid in his profession.

  Jim took another mouthful of the seafood cocktail. “When I get things cleared up, I’d like to have a human cook too.”

  Santiago smiled. “Jim, by the way things are going you could afford anything you want. That Coca Cola drink should break all sales records. Your competition is in real trouble.”

  “What, the Huber Company?” Jim was obviously amused.

  “Yes, their chairman of the board is here to see the Cabrillo family about a loan. It’ll be necessary for him to produce a product to counter yours and conduct a massive advertising campaign. Your advertising will be taken care of for free by the news media.

  “How do you know where he’s going?”

  “Jose Cabrillo warned me about it this morning. He may come here when the Cabrillos turn him down.”

  “You’re friends with the Cabrillos?” Carol asked, sounding shocked. “I thought your families were at war.”

  “One hundred years ago we were.” Santiago settled back and rested an elbow on the arm of his chair. “Now, his grandchildren go to school with mine. The war only exists on the 3V these days.”

  “Dad,” Raul said, “at the club I beat Miguel Cabrillo at tennis, does that show a continuation of the war? It was a grudge match.”

  Raul was a good looking young man in his early twenties. His black hair and brown eyes set off his features which were more Spanish than Hispanic.

  “Yes, but more has to be done for the family honor. Remember, I lost to Jose at golf last weekend.”

  “Oh,” Carol exclaimed, looking disappointed. “I grew up on the stories of the family wars. I’m happy they’re over with, but it sort of leaves a blank in current history.”

  “Well, we’re not going back to killing each other to satisfy the public. Besides, Raul is interested in one of the Gutierez girls. A war would interrupt his romance.”

  “Yep,” Raul agreed. “Scorching Gina’s relatives might upset her, but I do believe we have competition from another direction. That church, Children of the Prophet Elijah. I’ve looked into the records. Seems they have something to do with everything in the galaxy. I traced connections through dummy names and business aliases to everything from shipping to agriculture. It has been that way for hundreds of years. No one ever thought of investigating a church before.”

  “Jim can you tell us your plans now?” Carol asked.

  “Sure can. Infiltrate the group. Act like I’m depressed and a mental wreck and get myself recruited. There seems to be a commonality with their hit men. All had problems that were suddenly cured. When they try to cure me I’ll find things out.”

  Chris turned, wine glass in hand to receive a refill from an autoserve. “You still don’t act like a modern man. Someone else should
go.”

  “No, I’m the only one that can recognize whatever it is they don’t like about me,” Jim said with resolution.

  “I wish we could do more for you Jim,” Santiago said. “I could send one of my private security men with you.”

  “What could he do? He’d be unarmed on another planet, completely cut off. No, I’m better off alone.”

  “Jim, isn’t there another way?” Carol pleaded. “You already scared me enough this morning going to a... a...”

  Santiago laughed. “A house full of professional killers? Let me guess, you had images of him being tied to a chair and slapped around, then picked up screaming, thrown into an airlock and blasted into space. Am I correct?”

  Carol looked down in embarrassment and shrugged. “Something like that.”

  “Actually,” Chris said. “She did mention something about being tied to the back of a grid navigator and dragged for kilometers down a rocky road.”

  “Quiet Chris, I feel bad enough as it is. And I still think there must be a better way.”

  “Well, if you come up with one let me know,” Jim said, looking into the wine glass in his hand. “I’m not that excited about walking straight in there myself.”

  Dining at the Montoya residence was a relaxed social activity that took hours. Celia slowly unwound with the assistance of several glasses of wine. Toward the end of the evening, she even told a joke.

  No new idea of any merit surfaced. They were now committed to Jim’s original plan as the only alternative.

  * * *

  Next morning they all went horseback riding through the expansive Montoya estates. When Jim was given the option of a larger house than he already owned, he couldn’t think why he needed anything bigger. His mind was slowly changing due to the stay at the Montoyas. He thought that he could possibly survive this life of opulence.

  In the early afternoon a physician arrived, one well known to the Montoyas. Jim went into surgery in the small Montoya family medical rooms.

  * * *

  Jim entered the room. Carol’s hands jumped to her mouth. “Oooooh, they can put your face back the way it was, can’t they?”

  “That’s what the doc told me. It’s only plastic implants. They just dissolve them when I want.” Jim winced and touched his right cheek. “Just have to get used to it for a while.”

  “Hope so. I want my husband the way he was when I married him. By the way, when was that?”

  “Eight years ago and you married me looking like this.”

  “It must’ve been a strange dream I had. I thought you looked different,” she said while reaching out and hesitantly touching Jim’s cheek.

  “Must have been an ex-boyfriend or something,” Jim said.

  “Do we have any children?”

  “What? You don’t remember our daughter Maris?”

  Carol waved her hand. “Sometimes I overlook minor details like that.”

  “Speaking of details, can you remember your act?”

  Carol raised her right arm placing a bent wrist on her forehead. “My husband, disappearing and joining a religious group.” She extended her left hand, palm up and swept it from left to right. “What have I done to drive him away?” She dropped her hands, bent slightly with head bowed and hand over her heart. “It’s all my fault.” She staggered a few paces and caught the wall for support. “Can I see him one last time?” She looked up and smiled. “How was that?”

  Jim picked up an empty glass from the table and handed it to her. “Academy award, in the category of over acting.”

  “What am I supposed to say?”

  “You’re supposed to thank the academy and all the little people who helped you.”

  “I would like to thank the academy, whatever that is,” she said clutching the glass to her chest, “and all the people I stepped on to get where I am today.”

  “I hope you do better than that when the time comes. How’s Chris doing with his part?”

  “The concerned brother is ready to locate you for me. When do you want us to start?”

  “Give me one day to lose a packet gambling, two days to wander the streets drunk and about three days to get myself indoctrinated at the shelter.”

  Carol wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t think there would be a shelter in a place like Gato.”

  “Sure is, even here. They probably serve champagne with the bread and soup.”

  “I still don’t like the idea. What if they discover who you are? You won’t stand a chance.”

  “Nag, nag, nag. No wonder I’m leaving you for a life of meditation,” Jim said, waving a hand.

  “I kind of like you. I don’t want you killed before I get to know you better.”

  “You just want to find out if that cat story is true. Besides, what else can I do? Stay in a prison like the Montoyas? Security checks on the plumber when he comes to unplug a sink?”

  “Ok,” she laughed. “See, I’m starting to use your Old Earth expressions.” Carol thought for a moment. “What’s a plumber?”

  Jim smiled. “Old Earth profession, a plumber was known for showing the top of his butt as he....” His explanation was interrupted by the musical notes of the suite’s doorbell. “Come in.”

  The door opened and Raul entered the room. “Bad news Jim, they definitely know you’re on this planet. Your voice print has been added to the police alert roster under monitor only status.”

  “I don’t understand,” Jim said, turning around and looking for a chair, “what is this monitor only stuff?”

  “If your voice print or retinal scan shows up on any one of a number of different public utilities, a list of people are notified. You are not picked up, just kept track of.”

  “How many are notified? Could we figure out who is looking for me by an access roster to this thing?”

  “No, hundreds have access, it could be anyone. We’re going to have to trick them into thinking that you’re on another planet. This means you’re going to have to be on that planet yourself. We can relay your voice print to make it appear that you’re there, but your retinal scan is another matter.”

  Jim flopping heavily into a chair. “Ok, looks like I’ve got to go traveling again,” Under other circumstances he wouldn’t have minded another trip. Having reached his first objective it frustrated him to have the finish line suddenly pushed further into the distance. “By the way, how do you know exactly who the police have listed on their scanners?”

  “Family secrets,” Raul said, taking a seat across the room from Jim. “Also, father asked if you wouldn’t mind giving us a few recommendations as to what we should bid on in your music collection. He likes that Elvis Presley, the recordings just arrived.”

  “I like him too.”

  “When I saw my father an hour ago he was leaping around the room dancing to some song about a dog. He said it reminded him of a style of music that was popular a few years ago and he wants to promote it. Could you point out similar works for us?”

  “Sure will, do you have a list?”

  Raul pointed at a pad on a table. “Just press retrieve, it’s already been sent. That business manager you have knows what he’s doing. He’s releasing two of those album things every forty standard days, keeps the price high and the interest going.”

  Jim picked up the pad and touched the retrieve control. He burst out laughing as he read the first entry: Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. He had acquired it at a yard sale in a box of twenty. He had only wanted two of them, but the owner wanted to sell the whole box complete, so Jim had to buy all of them to get the two he wanted.

  “Beach Boys,” Jim announced. “Different style, but if he likes Elvis I’m sure he’ll like them too.”

  “Thank you,” Raul said, making a mental note. “There is something else I’m sure you’d like to see.” He turned his chair and announced, “Computer, wall screen, house monitor, number two conference room.”

  The wall at the far end of the room illuminated and showed the image of two men
sitting across a desk from one another.

  Jim recognized the man talking to Montoya. “It’s Hubie!” He then touched the control on the side of his chair switching off the electrostatic base pad that anchored it to the floor. One slight push with his foot sent the chair gliding in the direction of the screen. A second touch to the control brought the chair to an abrupt stop which nearly threw him off. Jim righted himself and chuckled.

  “Men,” said Carol who moved another chair over next to his and sat sedately.

  “I know, women grow up, but men stay little boys,” Jim chuckled again then turned to Raul. “Is this ethical, I mean listening in on a business conference?”

  “Normally no, but Huber is a different matter. The man has no business morals whatsoever. You probably know that people have been listening in on your conversations. He’s one of them. The man pulls every dirty trick known to stay on top. Spying, sabotage, bribery, he’s also been suspect in more than one fatal accident involving his competition.”

  Jim’s eyebrows shot up. “All over soft drink?”

  “All over billions of Gs,” Raul said, emphasizing the word ‘billions’. “Our research has found out that the church has invested heavily in his company. One other thing, thirty years ago he was number two in the business and it was in financial trouble. Near to a nervous breakdown, he disappeared for six months. On returning, he threw himself into his work and within a year devastated the competition.”

  Jim stared at the man. “He’s one of them?”

  Raul nodded. “Probably, but that’s not the only reason we want to bring him down. My father invested in your soft drink company when the stock first hit the market. All shares are under fictitious names, so Huber probably does not know. I’m going to full conference mode so keep your voice to a whisper. It only broadcasts when you speak above a certain sound level and my father is the only one in the room who’ll hear. Computer, full conference mode.” He then lowered his voice. “Do you know this type of system?”

  Jim nodded and sat back to watch.

  “...about our own traditions?” Huber’s voice started mid-sentence. “My beverages have been on the market for two hundred years. All I hear about now is Old Earth, Old Earth. Are we going to abandon all our values and return to those primitive times?”