by Janet Leigh
“Which is?”
“There are rules, such as, rule number one, you can’t intentionally disrupt events that happened in the past because you can cause a change in the future. For example, if you killed the mother of the future US president, it could severely change life the way we know it.”
“Caiyan mentioned that, but it didn’t keep him from killing Paco.”
“Yes, I know. Caiyan plays by his own rules, which makes him dangerous. Killing is in his blood, Jen.”
“He killed Paco to save me.”
“Why didn’t he just knock him out and restrain him?”
I pondered this for a moment. Why didn’t Caiyan just hit him on the head and knock him out? We could have tied him up and left him. Maybe he was afraid Villa would find him before we could escape. The main reason tore at my gut: he was more interested in capturing brigands and retaining the keys than saving our lives. Jake watched me as I came to the conclusion. I decided a simple explanation would do for now, until I could talk to Caiyan.
I took a long pull on my beer and said, “I think the others would have heard the commotion and come to help Paco.”
“Maybe. But many times when Caiyan returns, I have to research the bastard he took down to find out how to fix any problems he might have created.”
“How do you find the problems?”
“We have a computer program that is designed to locate the ripple effects left by the time travelers.” He took my beer from my hand and finished it off. That was probably a violation during work hours, but Jake looked like he needed more than a swig of beer.
“Was Paco the father of the next US president?” I asked.
Jake grimaced. “No, he was killed March 9, 1916—he and five hundred Villistas attacked the Thirteenth US Cavalry at Camp Furlong near Columbus, New Mexico, using the guns supplied to them by Mortas.”
“No family?”
“No.”
“Then we’re OK, right?”
“It doesn’t make it right, and we have to research every person Paco had killed from the moment Caiyan killed him to his original death and all their ancestors.”
“Were there many?” I asked uneasily.
Jake rolled his eyes and avoided my question. “Rule number two is you can’t tell anyone, which you have already broken by not only telling Gertie but also taking her back with you.”
Thinking of Gertie gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I didn’t tell her; she hopped in, and then she found out.”
“Rule three, you must never let a brigand see your vessel. It makes it easier for the brigands to use your key if they know what your vessel looks like and can find it.” Jake was ticking off the rules using his fingers.
“I think I got it.”
Jake eyed me and kept on talking. “Rule four, you cannot remove another’s key; he has to remove it himself. We have tried cutting them off, burning them off, and other means, but with no luck. Unless the person is dead or he takes the key off himself, it stays on.”
“OK, let me get this straight. So far the Mafusos have respected our present-day relationship. All our conflicts take place in the past, not here.” I held up my fingers as I listed the rules. “You can’t tell anyone, which I have already violated.” Jake frowned at me, but I continued anyway. “You can’t let anyone see your vessel. I broke that one too.” I should have listed the rules that I hadn’t broken first. My subconscious gave me a kick in the shins. “You can’t kill anyone because it might screw up the future, and you can’t take off another traveler’s key.”
“Very good,” Jake said with a smile.
“Unless you go back and take it from an ancestor,” I added.
“Yeah, there’s that. When you travel to the past, it is forbidden to force a traveler to remove his key. You cannot leave him running amuck in the past, screwing with the future.”
“But the Mafusos took my key.”
“Not really, they went back and bought the key from someone who took it from your ancestor in her own time, therefore you never received it. They found a loophole to the rule.” Jake frowned. “The brigands don’t always obey our rules; that is why we are always chasing them, and until we have all the keys, it won’t stop.”
“Why don’t the brigands just kill us and take our keys?’
“That is the most important thing you should know about your gift. If you kill another traveler, you die.”
My mind went numb for a second. “Die?”
Jake looked me straight in the eye, “Yes, die.”
“What if it’s an accident?”
“There can’t be any accidents.
Jake took a bite of his hardly touched sandwhich and offered me the other half. I had practically inhaled mine, so I accepted. We both chewed on the prior information as we chewed on the sandwich. I decided not to dwell on the parts of my gift I had no control over. I wasn’t planning on killing anyone, anyway. I was just the transporter, right?
“What happens next?” I asked.
“My operations manager is drawing up paperwork for you to sign. Sort of a business contract between the WTF and you.”
“I hate paperwork.”
“I know, I remember doing several papers for you in high school. The contract will explain what you can and cannot do concerning time travel. For example, you cannot go back in time for personal gain.”
“Right.”
“Your friends Caiyan and Brodie also have a problem with this part of the contract.”
I didn’t understand what he meant by this, but I had a feeling it had something to do with the little episode between Caiyan and me during my first trip. I decided some questions were better left unanswered.
After lunch I was leaning against the railing looking out at the ocean. Jake disposed of our trash and came to stand beside me.
“I’m going to ask, no, beg you not to get involved with these people.”
“I am already involved,” I answered, not turning to look into his big brown eyes. “I have to help find Gertie.”
Jake’s cell phone rang, and when he disconnected, he said, “They are ready for you.”
“Who is?”
“The WTF.”
“I thought you were the WTF?” I asked.
“No, I am an agent of the CIA who works with the WTF.”
Lunch was over. We returned to his apartment, and he grabbed his jacket. Jake looked defeated as he ushered me back downstairs, where another jeep was waiting to take us back to Camp 6. We went back through all the security gates and the X-ray to the elevator that took us down to Level B. Jake led me down the long corridor to a large office that had a big mahogany desk and several leather executive chairs. Seated at the desk was a gruff-looking man. His gray hair and steely gray eyes made him look like all the military generals I had ever seen portrayed on film.
“Jen, this is Major General Potts.” The general shook my hand. “He is the military commander in charge at Gitmo and over the WTF.”
“Glad to have you on board, Miss Cloud.”
To his right was a man dressed in a navy suit. “This is Agent Geoff Grant. He is with the BSS. He oversees the European division of the WTF.” Caiyan’s boss, I assumed.
“Please sit down, Miss Cloud.” Agent Grant indicated a seat next to him. Everyone sat down, and we began the meeting that would change my life. A pretty lady about my age in a white military button-up shirt and navy pencil skirt brought us coffee, and tea for Mr. Grant. She politely asked if I preferred cream, then she winked at Jake. His face turned red, and he looked sheepishly in my direction while biting his bottom lip. His tell just became clear. It didn’t take long for Jake to miss me after he left Dallas. My mission just became clearer. I needed to make this decision for myself. I needed independence and self-fulfillment. I had to start making my own decisions.
General Potts presented a contract to me that listed all the “rules” of time travel.
I was never really good at reading documents. I made a C minus in my busin
ess law class. I hated reading contracts or any kind of instructions. This usually meant spending several extra hours assembling a project. But that’s how I roll, and when I’m done with my project, I have self-satisfaction and a few “extra” pieces.
So, grabbing the pen, I signed my life away without further hesitation.
“Don’t you want to read it first?” Jake asked. General Potts cleared his throat, and although Agent Grant was behind me, I could feel him shake his head no at Jake.
“Well, what I meant was…if you want to,” Jake stammered.
“Nope, I know what I’m doing,” I said firmly.
“Thank you, Miss Cloud,” General Potts said as he hastily stuffed my contract away in a file.
“How do we get Gertie back?” My first official inquiry.
“We are waiting on the Mafusos’ demands. In the meantime we are interrogating the little bastard—um, excuse my language,” General Potts said as he coughed slightly. “I think this one might just crack.”
Although I thought Mitchell was a little weasel, I didn’t want him tortured. What if they hurt Gertie because we hurt Mitchell?
“Ace is going to take Jennifer home to get some clothes and rest, then we are going to meet back here tomorrow at oh eight hundred hours,” Jake said.
Jake and I left. Walking down the long hall, I asked, “Are you sure they won’t hurt Gertie?”
“Pretty sure,” Jake said.
“Are you pretty sure like when I asked you in fifth grade if herpes was a type of weed because I heard my sister’s friend Vanessa say she had herpes in her patch of grass?”
“Um, yeah, pretty sure.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
We turned down a hallway that seemed to be a dead end. A camera was mounted in the corner, but I had seen several of them in the building.
“What are we doing here?”
“Now that you are an official transporter for the WTF, you have access to top-secret information,” Jake said as he walked to a panel on the wall and used his key fob. The panel slid open, revealing a keypad. Jake punched in a number, then placed his chin on a little stand.
“Retinal scan,” he explained. A large door appeared to the left of the panel and, just like Star Trek, slid open without a sound.
“Welcome to the travel lab,” Jake said, extending his right arm out in an “after you” gesture.
“Cool,” I said as we walked into a giant room filled with computers and flat-screen monitors. Three large projection screens hung on the wall opposite me. Images of maps with red dots blinking on them illuminated the screens. It definitely gave NASA a run for its money.
“This is where we monitor the time travel,” Jake said. There were two people in the room. An older gentleman who was either Charles Darwin or Father Time monitored one of the big screens. “This is Albert. He watches you when you go back in time, then he performs the follow-up on everyone to make sure there were no changes to the future.”
“Hey there, little lady. Just call me Al.” He walked slightly bent over as he came around to shake my hand.
“I’m Jen, the—”
Al cut me off. “I know who you are—been watching you for days.”
“Me?”
“Well, we didn’t know who exactly, but we caught your wave when you appeared in 1915. I knew I had seen that blip before but didn’t put two and two together until you came back this time.”
“You saw me in 1568? In Scotland?”
“Yep, you blipped on my screen but then disappeared. I tried to tell them there was someone new flying about in Elma’s vesssel, but they didn’t believe me. Now here you are.”
“I don’t get it. You can see us?” I was so confused.
“Jen, when anyone travels back through the time gateway, their vessel gives off an exhaust, so to speak. We analyzed this and came up with a titanium and phosphorous emission. We can track where you go and keep an eye on your location,” Jake said.
“So you knew about my aint Elma?” I asked.
Jake took a deep breath. “Yes. The WTF has been watching your family for years. The gift has never transferred outside a direct line. Elma didn’t have any children, so we assumed the gift died when she died. We couldn’t find her key. She must have known you had the gift and made arrangements to get the key to you if she passed.”
“She told me when I was nine, but I didn’t understand. I thought she was just a crazy old lady.” I sighed regretfully. “Just goes to show, you should listen to your elders.”
“My sentiments exactly!” Al chimed in. “Do you see the blinking dots? Those are the people you left back in Presidio. We can watch until the portal closes. Probably a few more hours.
“Did the Hawkinses move their ranch?” I asked hopefully.
“Looks like they are heading north.” He pointed toward a few red blips on the screen.
“And Villa?”
“Back in Mexico with his Villistas.”
Good, I felt better knowing the Hawkinses were out of harm from Pancho Villa.
Al smiled, then returned to his desk. Jake directed me toward the right side of the room, where a man sat in a circular desk surrounded by computer screens. He was dark-skinned and had on a Mighty Mouse T-shirt and a leather necklace with a key on it. The smooth stone had an image of a tornado embedded in it. He looked like a cross between Bob Marley and Will Smith.
“Jake, my mon, is dis the lovely creature stirring up so much trouble wit our tribe?”
“Yes. Jen, this is Pickles,” Jake said.
“Whatta you mean ‘trouble’?” I asked, eyeing Pickles. His accent was totally island. Maybe the Bahamas or Jamaican.
“Ya nuh see it? So far you ‘ave caused a disruption in de travel portal, disconnection from our contact wit de Mafuso family, revealed our secret to an ungifted, who was captured, by de way, dispelled de notion de gift can come only through a direct line, and not to mention traveled in de dafender’s vessel, subjecting him ta possibly getting las’ in the time continuum.” Pickles crossed his arms over Mighty Mouse.
“Well, there’s that,” I said.
“Pickles is a defender with a special gift,” Jake explained.
As I moved around from behind all the computers, I saw Pickles was wearing Bermuda shorts and in a wheelchair.
“He can see where the brigands travel right before the travel takes place when they engage their vessel. Everyone has to be ready to go when the full moon starts to cycle. Pickles gets the coordinates, and then we decide who goes after the brigands. The WTF show up on the screens as blue dots, and the brigands as black dots.”
“Sort of like ESP but with flair,” Pickles added.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“When a brigand decides to travel, there is an increase in the consciousness surrounding that person,” Jake explained. “Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect?”
I nodded.
“Similar ta dat, and it comes ta me like a dream.” He waved spirit fingers in the air above his head. “The problem is dat there are many traveling when de moon is full, so I have ta pinpoint de ones who are going ta mess around versus de ones who are going ta cause disaster.”
“But if we know who they are, can’t we stop them before they go back?”
“I can’t tell who dey are, just dat a brigand is going back ta a certain time. It works de same with the WTF too; I can see everyone’s choice of where dey are going unless dey change at de last minute, which is what Miss Fancy Pants did.” He pointed at me.
“But I didn’t know where I was going.”
“Mmm.” He scratched his dreadlock-covered head. “Caiyan didn’t summon you, and you didn’t know where you was going?”
“Well, I was sort of thinking about him,” I said, keeping my eyes away from Jake.
This brought a deep laugh from Pickles. “Well, wouldn’t it be somethin’ if she could summon our Scottish philanderer for a change.” He laughed again.
Jake sc
owled. “I need to get Jen back home; we are meeting tomorrow morning, 0800 hours. See that you are present.”
“Don’t go gettin’ in any trouble now, ya hear?” Pickles waved us off as we left the secret room.
We returned to the large room that held the vessels. It was completely empty.
“Damn, where is that guy?” Jake cursed.
No sooner had he spoken than there was a crack of thunder and a lightning flash, or in this case a camera flash, and Ace’s photo booth appeared on platform three. The purple curtain pulled back, and Ace came strolling over wearing a white Vera Wang gown and a sparkling tiara on top of a long, wavy red wig.
“Where have you been? Brodie summoned you two hours ago.”
“Well, hello to you too, handsome.” Ace pulled off his long white dinner gloves. “I told the boys I had an important date tonight, and now you’ve made me late.”
“I need you to take Jennifer home to rest and get some clothes, then have her back here at 0800 hours.”
“Eight a.m.—are you nuts? I need my beauty sleep. Besides, I might be out late tonight, or maybe all night long if I’m lucky.”
“I agree with the first part, but you will have her back at eight a.m, or you will have an unpleasant consequence,” Jake threatened.
“Ooh, I hate unpleasant consequences.” Ace shuddered and motioned for me to follow him. “Let’s go, hotcakes.”
Chapter 18
As I entered Ace’s vessel, I noticed two things. One, the seat was padded in purple velvet, and two, the walls had photos of every brigand he had taken to Gitmo, and there were many. Riding with Ace was an amazing experience. Instead of the swift, forceful ride I had in my vessel or the smooth ride with Caiyan, Ace’s vessel sort of rocked. Swirling colors flashed around me like I was inside a lava lamp. As we traveled, I swear I heard music.
When the music stopped, the colors disappeared. I stepped out into the gray drizzle of the Saturday I’d left behind.
“Was that the Beatles?” I asked.
“I like to add my own personal touch when traveling. It makes me more comfortable.” He stopped and looked around, taking in his surroundings. “This weather is going to frizz my hair, doll. Let’s get inside.”