“Honestly?” Reilly asked, looking at the reporter incredulously, then shaking his head. “I cannot confirm those reports, no.”
More hands. “Senator O’Neill,” a tall man with a German accent asked, “do you have any insight as to why American President Fitcher is not in attendance?”
“Thank you,” Reilly said, standing and waving as every reporter in the room simultaneously started to shout questions toward the front of the room. The team of speakers started to quietly retreat.
As Robert stepped off the dais, Keegan moved swiftly across the room to meet him. The media, despite Robert’s request earlier, would try to ambush him. Keegan’s large frame would come in handy as they escorted him as quickly as possible out of range.
He couldn’t intercept Bauer, though. “Robert, Charlotte’s looking to get you one-on-one,” she said. Charlotte Huxley was an award-winning host on the wildly popular Global Science Network, and her interviews with SATP team members, particularly Robert, were considered the “official” coverage of the program’s activities. She was influential enough to usurp any authority the rest of the media imagined they possessed, and for any of them, when you sat in studio answering Huxley’s questions, you’d made it. The thought that Robert would not do the interview immediately was almost obscene.
But Keegan made eye contact with Robert for a quick moment and had a silent conversation – the kind only two people who have been in the trenches for 15 years could have. It wasn’t the right time. “Caitlyn, not right now,” he said, as Robert turned away, looking for cover.
“She’s waiting, though-”
“Tell her as soon as he’s ready,” he said firmly, not wanting the conversation to go further. “He needs some downtime.”
Ignoring the disconcerted look on Bauer’s face, Keegan shielded Robert as they moved toward the rear door of the room, escaping the advancing onslaught of the reporters.
Once out of sight, Robert was kidnapped by the SATP medical team, which led him away. He’d be tied up for hours. Keegan, tired from the excitement and now with too much to ponder, decided to head to his flat. The next few days were going to be busy ones.
CHAPTER 4
Twelve million years of human evolution, and men were still completely primordial, Claire thought as the vibroglass doors slammed closed behind her. Though they only slammed in her mind. The actual noise was much more delicate, the doors having been designed specifically for quiet.
She’d caught Keegan looking at her during the press conference, and his ridiculous attempt to not make eye contact. He was being completely childish. She knew. She knew in her head and heart that she should never have agreed to try dating a colleague and one of her best friends. She hadn’t thought through the reality that the reason they were such good friends was the absence of responsibility to each other. Neither had any degree of control over the other. Nobody owed anyone anything. Once the relationship started, and for the three weeks plus four days that it lasted, control was an issue. The issue. And Dr. Claire Devereaux hadn’t worked as hard as she had in her life to now cede control of any kind, to anyone.
She stepped into one of the express elevators and fled to the 83rd floor of SATP’s Einstein Building. As if he’d realistically be looking for her, there was no way he’d check in the commissary, since she rarely ate. Ever since nutritional packs began to be fortified with every vitamin and mineral a human being needed to survive, the only thing food had to offer was fat. Claire liked being skinny, even though her family and friends thought she was probably too skinny. She grabbed an empty table and sat, took a deep breath, and stewed for a few minutes.
The cafeteria was bustling, but not crowded. Any time there was a mission, the day was busy for everyone throughout SATP – all 23,000 employees that made the program run. It was approaching lunchtime, and with Robert now behind closed doors for his medical evaluation and a little while to decompress, which he clearly needed, if his demeanor on stage was any indication, the day for most of the campus had returned to business-as-usual.
For Claire, of course, it was a little more involved, and she’d have only a short respite before she’d be sitting down with Robert and the rest of the core team. There were few other endeavors in the world she could imagine where the commencement and conclusion of the project were separated by just a few hours. No sooner had Robert left for Egypt that morning than they’d begun to prepare for his return. To Robert, the mission took 48 hours – or, it was supposed to. She’d have to find out if he’d cut it short or lengthened it for any reason. But to the rest of them, he’d gone, they’d had breakfast, and then he’d reappeared. There was barely a moment in between to breathe.
Claire considered herself to be the consummate planner, and was always amazed at the level of activity that needed to take place the morning of a mission. Not because anyone had slacked, or items on the task list weren’t properly buttoned up. It was just the nature of what they were trying to accomplish: sending the scattered molecules of a human being through space and time to a pinpoint location on a planet that may or may not be in the right place at the right time. There was checking of coordinates and data and re-checking and re-checking, and then more re-checking, right up until the final moment before the time machine sprang into action. There were many pursuits in life where it made sense for timeliness to usurp perfection. SATP was not one of those pursuits.
Her propensity for planning had required some getting used to in regard to the last-minute chaos that had been designed to eliminate the possibility of true chaos, and had also been a source of discontent in her brief relationship with Keegan. Here was a guy who had been with SATP for some six years before she’d arrived as the Canadian designee, had been close to her predecessor and mentor, Dr. Pierre Le Tourre, and at Pierre’s request had taken Claire under his wing. Robert was undisputed team leader, but he’d already become untouchable. Keegan’s guidance had helped her to quickly find her place in the organization, and nine years later she was proud to be not only a relatively frequent time traveler, but one of the most respected scientists in the world.
For that reason, it killed her that she had stooped to such a level of poor judgment. She glanced at her forearm, feeling a desire, if not a pressing need, to send her mother in Toronto a quick note to see if she was available to talk. She preferred not to need anyone, but knew her mother would always say the right thing at the right time. Though, rarely had they discussed relationships. She’d been married to SATP for a long time.
The point was moot, anyway. She couldn’t fire up the technology in the middle of the commissary. If having that conversation was something she felt she needed, it would have to happen in the solitude of her apartment.
What frustrated her most was not Keegan, himself, notwithstanding that his avoiding her at the press conference temporarily had her blood boiling. It was that attempting a relationship tapped into a whole new arena of attention that defied logic and statistical data. She’d been laser-focused for so long on analysis and technical specifications and the scientific method and then, suddenly, feelings were part of the equation. And to her, neither the feelings she had for Keegan, nor the feelings she was receiving from him, came with any purpose. They were easily explained away by the fact that she’d felt comfort being around him, they’d shared many often-emotional experiences together doing the work of SATP, and they were like-minded on enough things that they’d been able to form a rapport over time. Where anything related to romance had entered the picture, she couldn’t trace.
She hated that she was sitting there stewing. It was exactly what he would want her to be doing. Her self-annoyance gave her the impetus, though, to stand and at least walk around to relieve some tension. She headed for the large windows that overlooked the SATP campus, and looked out toward a view that always brought her comfort.
Einstein was the second tallest of the four pillars hovering over SATP’s grounds, which covered roughly 150 acres just east of Greensboro. From her vantage
point, she could see the shorter Edison and Curie Buildings, and then the tallest, Newton, connected by covered walkways spanning the areas between the buildings at various levels. Below, dozens of smaller administrative buildings created a patchwork of rooftops where thousands of government employees kept the place running. Beyond the campus, planes left and arrived continuously at the busy Greensboro International Airport. Up here, Claire knew she could get away from everything for a few minutes. A very few.
She took a deep breath. The timing of their break-up – though, she wasn’t sure it could be called a break-up because it wasn’t like they’d built any foundation for a relationship in the first place – was terrible, with Robert’s Egypt mission coming just a few days after. For that reason, she refocused her mind on the task at hand, and felt a surge of confidence and power flow through her. She needed to do the job, even though Keegan would be sitting right next to her at every turn. They hadn’t even had enough time, to her mind, to prepare for the mission, so it was critical now that as a team they concentrate on one thing and one thing only. The time to address the future with Keegan could come later.
That is, if he was willing to address it.
Secretly, she hoped he was.
And with that realization, she went to call her mother.
CHAPTER 5
Robert felt the warmth from the light of the scanners, which were finishing their journey up and down his body. The sensation was comforting, but there was no way to dismiss his awareness that the purpose of the scan was to read every molecule that comprised him to find irregularities. It was unavoidably nerve-wracking.
He had to stand completely still until the process was complete, but he could feel the heat leave his bare feet, replaced by a rush of cooler air, meaning the arms on the scanners had finished their final pass over him. “Anything?” he asked.
A voice came over the intercom system into the circular, windowless room. “Give us a second.”
Never his favorite thing to hear. He would have preferred an, “All set, Robert.” He knew they were doing their due diligence, but had it been their molecules that had just been scrambled and sent thousands of years into the past, he imagined they’d want a speedy answer, as well.
He heard a clicking noise at his feet, which meant that the device had officially ended its process, and the electromagnetic field had subsided, meaning he could move freely. When he’d started with SATP twenty years earlier, they’d used MRIs to do the post-mission scans, but had replaced that technology with these pulse scanners about five or six years before. It was a significant change for the program because it was one of the first pieces of technology developed specifically for and by SATP engineers that would lead to real-world applications – now being used in airline and border security, scanning of food products for imperfections and certain types of cancer treatment, among others.
He heard the door to his right – the only one for the room – open, and turned to see Reilly enter. The general tossed him a long-sleeve t-shirt and pair of pants, which he caught, and started to slide the shirt over his head while still standing between the now dormant sensors.
“What did you see in Egypt?” Reilly asked.
He laughed and shook his head. “I’m not going to talk about this in here with the intercom on,” he said. “I don’t know who’s in there.” He motioned toward the control room.
“Well, you can’t leave until they clear you.”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. He looked around the room, and pointed at the speakers along the wall. “Can you guys turn off the intercom and the mic?” he called.
“Sure thing,” a reply came back through the comm.
He waited a moment to give them the opportunity to silence themselves then, trusting they did, turned back to Reilly. “I need a weapon,” he said. “This is the last mission I go on without some kind of protection.”
“You were attacked,” Reilly said. “I could tell something happened. Were you hurt?”
Now, Robert moved out from behind the protection of the sensor, showing the bruise that took up most of his right thigh.
“Oh, wow,” Reilly said, gaping. “What did they hit you with?”
“Well, they came at me with a few different weapons, but fortunately only hit me with one,” he said, pulling the pants up over the wound. “It was a projectile, seemed like it came from a sling of some sort. Wasn’t a rock, though, I can tell you that. It hit like a bullet. Metal. And big, like the size of a softball.”
“Must’ve hit you square on,” Reilly said. “Good thing it didn’t get you in the head or chest.”
“No, Andrew,” he said. “This welt? It was through the cloak. You know how heavy that material is? It would’ve taken my leg off if I hadn’t gotten it on in time.” Reilly’s face was one of concern and disbelief. Disbelief that someone had made their little game more dangerous than it was supposed to be. “I need a weapon.”
He shook his head. “It’s not ready yet.”
“It’s ready enough.”
Reilly sighed. Clearly, he didn’t want to be having this conversation, but Robert wasn’t going to let him avoid it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Robert,” he said. “We cannot change the course of history. If you change someone’s path in the past, you can wipe out-”
“I know the risks, Andrew,” he said. “I know them. But things changed when I woke up one morning, and suddenly I didn’t have any say over where we’re going. This Egypt mission was a bad idea from the beginning. And I should’ve said something, but I didn’t. It was rushed. It was too ambitious. I feel very lucky to have made it back alive.” He paused. “I don’t know if it would’ve mattered if I’d said anything anyway. Everyone was so hell-bent on doing this. You were, at least.” He waited for Reilly to answer, but he said nothing. “In any case, if I’m having assignments handed to me that might be against my best interests or are putting me in harm’s way, then I want some security of my own.”
“You’re not the only one who would want to take these missions, you know.”
“Keegan?” Robert said, knowing exactly who he was inferencing. He nodded. “Yeah, Keegan would jump at any opportunity you offered him. But Keegan’s my friend. Do you think I’m going to let him get hurt? Or worse?”
Reilly shook his head. “No, I’m sure that if you were in a position to help him, you always would.”
He laughed and shook his own head in response. “Look, Andrew, I’m not going to get into little mind games with you. ‘If I’m in a position to help him.’ They going to chase me out like Dipin?” Not a lot of people could say something like that to the director of the program, much less a decorated General in the U.S. Army. Robert knew he had the gravitas, though. Plus, it had been a long time since Robert had felt he couldn’t be direct with his friend. “Let’s just do the right thing here and give me something to protect myself. Can I see the gun? That’s all I’m asking right now. Can I see it?”
Reilly looked at the floor, and then back at Robert. “You and I are the only ones that know about this.”
“Of course.”
“Meet me at the range at 4:30,” he said. “After your debrief and before the party.”
Robert nodded. “I’ll be there.” He paused for an awkward moment, as they both finished their thoughts, then walked to the door and pounded on it.
A moment later, the system reengaged, and a tech’s voice came over: “Other than your leg, you’re ship-shape,” he said, giving Robert license to breathe easy. “You need to get that looked at right away. Lots of cell damage, but not from the time travel process.”
“Thank you,” Robert said, then looked at Reilly. “4:30?”
“Yes, but I’ll see you in a half-hour at the debrief.”
“I’m more concerned that you’ll miss the second meeting.”
“I’ll meet you there, Robert.”
“Good,” he said, then motioned to the door. Reilly’s agreeing to show him the prototype gun that SATP was devel
oping had brightened his mood. “I’m going to go see the doctor and have him drug me up. Have you ever sat in front of the media giving a happy interview while your leg feels it’s about to fall off?”
CHAPTER 6
Amy Cheng jotted down another note on the tablet in front of her. General protocol for Robert’s debriefings after a mission was to hold all questions until the end, even though to Amy and, she imagined, the rest of her team members given their inquisitive natures, that was an unreasonably difficult ask.
The briefing room on the 3rd floor of the Newton Building was designed in a half-circle, with a dais at the long end of the room, and two rows of classroom-style seats facing the front along the curved portion. In those were seated the official SATP representatives from each of the 14 sponsor nations, the newly-appointed Dr. Landon Tripathi among them, and many who held significant positions in the organization outside of the core team. Behind Robert on a large screen were two maps of Egypt – a modern day version and one from the time period where he had traveled, about 2525 B.C. Not that they needed the review, but the SATP debriefing process was thorough, and required that they cover every detail of the mission. Currently, Robert was tracing the path of his travels for the team. They’d already wrapped up the technology recap, the highlight of which was that the time portal had operated with its usual efficiency.
For Amy, the review was always purposeful, since her work generally began immediately following Robert’s missions. As a member of the team that would conduct follow-up missions, the intricate details that Robert brought back with him were beneficial, no matter how mundane. Each step he took while on a mission was one to be followed or avoided, and she’d learned over time to trust implicitly his guidance relative to opportunities, challenges, precautions and dangers.
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