The Last Time Traveler

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The Last Time Traveler Page 22

by Aaron J. Ethridge


  “Decide what?”

  “Well...” he said slowly, “you girls can either pretend to be our secretaries or our love slaves. I was just trying to help you make up your mind.”

  “Well you have,” she replied tilting her head to the side, “we're your secretaries.”

  “Suit yourself,” he sighed. “I just hope you know how to take shorthand...”

  “We'll pretend!”

  While this rapier exchange was going on Morgan was simply sitting and staring at Azure. Finally he got up and started walking around her shaking his head.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I don't like it,” Morgan replied. “It's just not you.”

  “Well,” Cleo replied, “Rob told us to turn the hot down.”

  “It's not that,” he said shaking his head. “I mean, yeah, that too. But it's more than that.”

  “I thought you'd be curious to see me as a human woman,” Azure replied.

  “Well I wasn't,” he pointed out. “You're perfect the way you are.”

  “Wow, Morgan,” she replied, “that's really sweet of you to say.”

  “Well, I'll tell you this,” he continued, “Not once in all of my many, many fantasies about you, have you ever been human!”

  “Wow...” she said slowly. “Two steps forward, one step back...”

  “That's what I said just the other day!” Robert exclaimed, snapping his fingers.

  Mere minutes after this observation the four of them were crawling into the back of a rather luxurious stretched future-space limo that had come to pick them up. This rather epic conveyance quickly transported them to the front of a very impressive sky scraper in the very center of a sprawling metropolis.

  “What's the name of this town?” Morgan asked, gazing almost slack-jawed out of the window.

  “Metropolis,” the traveler replied.

  “Wow...” the young man said thoughtfully. “Is that a common city name?”

  “The most common in all of space and time,” Robert chucked.

  As the car came to a stop the chauffeur leapt out, instantly opening the door. The young men crawled from the back seat, immediately followed by the young ladies. They made a quick stop at the welcome desk before making their way into an empty elevator and heading for the top floor.

  “Now remember,” the traveler said, staring at Morgan as he spoke, “let me do all the talking.”

  “Got ya.”

  “And girls,” he continued, “be sure to look like you're taking notes. Your job is to make me and Morgan look important. If you hadn't picked secretaries you could have just sprawled all over us, but now you've made your bed...”

  “We'll look like we're taking notes, Rob,” Cleo asserted.

  Moments later the elevator doors opened. A secretary had been sent to greet them who led them immediately to a massive boardroom. Two very well dressed men were awaiting them there along with another young man in less impressive attire.

  “Mr. Hood,” the older of the two gentlemen said, stepping quickly over and shaking Robert's hand. “It good to meet you at last. And who is this young man?”

  “This here's my cousin,” the traveler replied. “Morgan Harker. He got all the height and muscle in the family, I got all the looks and brains, you know what I'm saying?”

  At this all the men laughed.

  “It's nice to meet you as well Mr. Harker,” the man replied, before pointing to his companion. “This gentlemen is Mr. Pardue. And this other young man is Tom. He's one of our engineers.”

  “It's a pleasure, sir,” Robert replied shaking Mr. Pardue's hand. “I hate to be brief Mr. Steel, but Daddy Hood's waitin' on me. And if there's one thing Daddy don't like, it's waitin'.”

  “I completely understand,” Mr. Steel nodded. “If you gentlemen will take a seat we can get started.”

  “Certainly,” Robert replied, sitting down at the very head of the table. “Miss Goodstuff, make sure to take exact notes. You can be sure Daddy's gonna want to know every word we said.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cleo sighed.

  Mr. Pardue took a good long look at Cleo before slowly moving his eyes to Azure.

  “And what's your name Miss?” he asked with a I-want-your-phone-number tone of voice.

  “I'm Miss Hurtsmen,” she replied with cold indifference.

  “Now,” Mr. Steel began, “I'll be perfectly frank Mr. Hood, we've looked over the specs, we've read over the contracts, and all in all the deal looks good. In fact, it looks too good. What's the catch?”

  “Well,” Robert replied, “you've been honest, sir, and if there's one thing in this life I truly admire it's honestly.”

  Morgan had to stifle a laugh.

  “So,” the traveler continued, “I'm going to be completely honest with you as well. Daddy's... We'll, let's just say Daddy's got rather exquisite tastes. Of course, we all love him for it. It's one of the things that makes him Daddy. However, sometimes having a little bit too fine a taste can get ya into some kinda tricky situations. Anyways, to make a long story short, we've had to move a little money around. At the moment, and keep in mind this is a very temporary situation, we could use just a tad more liquid capital. We're in the middle of a big project right now, and I mean big, but we need to make sure we got the gas we need to make it to the finish line. You see where I'm coming from?”

  They did see where he was coming from. For the next few minutes they sat discussing details, while the engineer poured over the patent documents.

  “And what kind of fuel you planning on burning in her?” Robert asked, while they were talking technical details. “I mean, she'll run on just about anything, but the better the fuel the better the output.”

  As soon as he asked this Tom rose and stepped over to what appeared to be a drinks cabinet.

  “We're actually considering a number of possible fuels,” Mr. Steel replied. “In fact we're hoping to develop something that's both efficient and renewable. We feel it would obviously be in our best interests in the long run.”

  The engineer pulled what appeared to be two small beakers from the cabinet and filled them from a large container using a small funnel. He then corked each of them and returned to the table handing one to Robert and the other to Morgan.

  “You may want to sample that,” Tom said, returning to his seat.

  Immediately Robert removed the rubber cork and carefully smelled the contents. Morgan followed his example. The liquid smelled vile, but he didn't want to offend anyone in the middle of a business meeting. And besides, it probably tasted better than it smelled.

  “When in Rome,” he said softly, raising the beaker to his lips.

  Almost instantly he spit all over the table.

  “This tastes like fuel!” he exclaimed.

  “Yeah, Morgan,” Robert nodded. “It is fuel, boy. Tom here was letting us take a sample for the lab. What did I tell y'all? This boy's like a laugh a minute!”

  The other men seemed to agree and enjoyed a hearty laugh at the young man's expense. For the next hour or so they worked on finalizing the terms of their agreement. Mr. Pardue had gotten up to stretch his legs and just happened to wander behind Cleo.

  “Hmmm,” he said, gazing down at the pad she had scribbled all over. “You know that doesn't look like any shorthand... Oh! I'm sorry... I was just thinking out loud... I certainly didn't mean to...”

  “Looks like Daddy's not the only one with exquisite tastes,” Mr. Steel interrupted with a grin.

  “Well now,” the traveler replied with a wide smile and a knowing wink, “you might just say that!”

  Minutes later the contracts were signed and the four companions were headed back to the ship.

  “Yeah...” The traveler said with a contented sigh. “I really don't think that could have possibly gone any better!”

  Chapter 12: The Sword in the Stone

  “Miss Goodstuff,” Robert said the moment they were all back on the bridge.

  “That's enough, Rob
,” Cleo sighed, tilting her head to the side, “we're back on the ship now.”

  “Alright, Cleo,” he laughed, “check time-lines would ya?”

  “Not too bad,” she replied gazing down at the monitor. “The generator introduced a couple more technical marvels that pushed them a little further forward than they already were, but nothing major. And it completely took care of the environmental issues. Personally I'd give it about a ninety-seven percent success rating.”

  “Good enough,” the traveler nodded. “How much did Hood Industries make?”

  “Hood Industries?” Morgan asked.

  “The name of the front company,” Cleo replied rolling her eyes. “Obviously Rob wanted it named after him...”

  “So you're last name really is Hood?”

  “Yep,” Robert replied. “Anyways, how much did we make over the life of the contract?”

  “Four point five million,” Cleo replied.

  “Four point five million what?” the young man asked.

  “Quatloos.”

  “Seriously?”

  “No, Morgan,” Robert replied shaking his head.

  “Then what?”

  “I won't mean anything to you.”

  “Then how much is it in dollars from my time?”

  Robert looked up and to the side for a moment, one of his eyebrows shooting up.

  “Roughly a hundred and twenty-five billion.”

  “Wow!” Morgan exclaimed, “We're rich!”

  “Yeah,” the traveler agreed, “we really are, Morgan. But we sure don't need that money. Cleo, what would the estimated effects be of spreading that money evenly amongst the planet's charities over the course of forty or fifty years?”

  “I'll have to check with Sister,” she replied.

  “Do that,” he smiled. “I know it'll never have happened once we're done, but it's still a nice thing to do.”

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “I guess it is.”

  Having accomplished step one of their plan they made their way back to Never Never Land and disabled... well, they actually blew it up, but Robert preferred the word disabled... Marcus Delmont's time machine, thereby defeating him for the third time. However, as the traveler pointed out himself: there ain't no rest for the weary. And so, within just minutes they were once again seated around the conference table.

  “Alright,” Morgan said dropping into his seat, “this one's gonna be a little different.”

  “Funny,” Robert laughed. “But also quite correct.”

  “So what is it?” the young man asked.

  “Well...” the traveler said thoughtfully. “You might almost call it The Sword in the Stone.”

  “Excalibur?” Morgan nodded. “Cool!”

  “Not exactly,” Robert corrected. “For one thing Arthur didn't pull Excalibur from the stone, he got it from the Lady of the Lake.”

  “No he didn't!” the young man replied.

  “Yes he did! Don't you remember? The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite....”

  “Oh yeah!” Morgan exclaimed. “Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.”

  “Exactly!” the traveler chuckled.

  “What are you two talking about?” Azure asked.

  “It's this goofy movie,” Vox replied.

  “Yeah,” Cleo said. “We need to get you programmed with ancient human culture...”

  “Anyways,” Robert continued, “it's kind of the same thing. The target culture believed that a particular sword signified their kings' divine right to rule. After a couple of thousands years, a civil war drove a section of their royal family to another world. One planet had the sword, the other did without.”

  “And here comes Delmont,” Doc speculated.

  “Exactly,” the traveler nodded. “Delmont took advantage of a hole in the royal family's security system to steal the sword. It was actually fairly impressive because he only had like fifteen minutes. It was the closest thing he ever did to being a jewel thief. Of course, it was really just a matter of timing. He walked in and out while an ion storm had all their security systems shut down. It was kind of like that scene in Groundhog Day when Bill Murray just walks up and takes all that money out of that armored car.”

  “Hey, fix your bra, honey,” Morgan chuckled.

  “Yep!”

  “You're right,” Azure said. “I think I could use that programming...”

  “Either way,” the traveler continued, “when the sword turned up missing it kicked off a civil war that should have never happened. On top of that the idiot sold the sword to the other branch of the royal family. That kicked off yet another civil war on their planet. And they took such good care of it that it never dropped out of the time-line. At this moment it's still in their vault frozen in non-time. As a result we can't just go get it like we did the orb.”

  “Could we make a copy?” the young man asked.

  “Yes!” Robert replied. “Sometimes, Morgan, you really are on the ball. Now, this culture was capable of making a molecular scan but not a molecular imprint before Delmont stole the sword.”

  “What's the difference?”

  “A molecular scan isn't nearly as precise as a molecular imprint. It can tell how many molecules are in an item as well as their disposition, but it can't specifically identify a single molecule. As a result we can make a fake.”

  “Well then, you're back in your element,” Morgan pointed out. “Fire up the presses.”

  “I never said it was counterfeit.”

  “So then,” Vox said, “we go back and steal the sword before Delmont does, make a copy, wait for him to steal the original, and then replace it with the copy.”

  “That's good,” Robert nodded, “but I think we can do better. That would take a lot of running around, even for us. And, of course, we'd have several chances to mess it up.”

  “Then what do you suggest?” Azure asked.

  “We make two identical fakes,” the traveler began. “Then we steal the original and replace it with one of the fakes. Then, after Delmont steals that fake, we replace it with the other one. That will cut down the back and forth a little.”

  “Once again,” Cleo said, “that's brilliant.”

  “Thanks!” Robert replied. “And, as I figured you'd all agree with that assessment, I went ahead and ordered the swords. They should be here in the morning. As soon as they're on the ship we can leave Never Never Land headed for the original sword.”

  “Sounds good,” Doc replied. “What do we have to do for the swap?”

  “Well...” Robert replied. “That is going to be a tad tricky.”

  “Exciting?” Morgan asked.

  “No!” the traveler replied. “Certainly not that tricky. It's just that the sword is very well guarded most of the time and in the middle of some war or another the rest of the time. So, I figured the easiest thing is going to be to steal it out of the blacksmith's shop the night after it's finished.”

  “That doesn't sound so tricky,” the young man pointed-out.

  “Well,” Robert admitted, “it's in the middle of an ion storm, so we can't use shields, stealth fields, or energy weapons. It's going to be a matter of more classic theft. We break in during the middle of the night and make the swap.”

  “Why can't we swap it up after the storm?” the young man asked.

  “This storm lasts fifty years...”

  “I see...” Morgan mused. “Still, that really doesn't sound all that bad.”

  “Comparatively it's not,” Robert agreed. “And really, we can even take some chemical lights that the ion storm can't effect. So it shouldn't be overly difficult. We just need to be careful. But either way, it's been a rich full day. Let's all call it an early night. We've got a lot to do tomorrow.”

  The party broke up and all of them headed for bed. They had gotten a lot done and really did need the rest. The following morning the swords arrived right on time and minutes later the ship was in
non-space making its way toward the target planet.

  “I been thinkin',” Robert said the moment Morgan stepped on the bridge, “you and me ought to be able to handle the swap by ourselves.”

  “Sounds good,” Morgan sighed, slipping down into his usual seat.

  “No,” Cleo replied. “Me and Azure are going with you.”

  “Why?”

  “Well,” she explained, “I see one of two possibilities. One: you're lying...”

  “I'm not lying,” Robert replied quite seriously. “This time it really shouldn't be a big deal. It's only slightly more dangerous than picking up Calvin was.”

  “Alright,” she replied. “In that case it's possibility two: you're telling the truth, so there's no reason for me and Azure not to go.”

  “Cleo...”

  “Girlfriend, Rob,” she replied. “I had to go be Miss Goodstuff yesterday, I get to go break into a place and steal something with you today. It's all about fair exchange.”

  “Oh,” he said, “I can think of a few things we could fair exchange.”

  “Shut up, Rob,” she giggled. “You're an idiot. And you're not going to distract me. So, are you going to let us go or not?”

  “Yes...” he sighed, slightly irritated. “You two just have to be careful. I don't mind taking you when I know there may be a fire fight because I know that you know what you're doing. I just don't like taking you when the hostilities are more speculative.”

  “That is crazy, Rob!” she pointed-out.

  “I guess it is,” he agreed. “I just... I don't know. I get nervous when there might be a fight, but I don't know that there will be. Especially when taking Doc and Vox would be difficult. Between the three of us nothing can hurt you.”

  “And me!” Morgan replied.

  “Four of us,” the traveler corrected.

  “We'll be fine,” she assured him.

  A little over an hour later the four of them were getting prepped up for the mission. Morgan was very excited because each of them was going to carry a tranq gun and one deadly force weapon. He didn't want to use them, of course, but it was still fun to be packin' heat at last. They were dressed entirely in black and had ever darkened their faces.

 

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