Ancient's War 01 - Shadow Run

by A. C. Ellis

  They were both silent for several seconds. Finally, Hyatt lifted the blaster pistol from the desk, then held his other hand out to Susan, palm up. “Let’s have them, Captain,” he said.

  Susan got to her feet. “No,” she said, defiantly. “If you want them, you will have to kill me.” She took a deep breath, then took a step toward him.

  And he silently disappeared.

  The pounding behind her eyes increased, and the snowflake pattern formed in her mind. The mantra came to her lips.

  But that couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be happening. She had jumped—not he.

  Yet she hadn’t, and he had!

  And there was something more, something she could never have expected. Somehow, she could sense the old man’s track. She could actually feel the thread of his existence, observing him as he made a jump through time and space. He came to rest in an empty conference room elsewhere in the Survey Service compound, two weeks in the future.

  With an effort, she brought the picture of the conference room resting in her mind into sharp focus. She concentrated on every small detail—bare walls, gray metal table, utilitarian straight-backed chairs. Even the sign on the wall denoting the after-hours use of the room as a holo-vid viewing area.

  Instantly she appeared before him as he turned to the door to leave. The lump of gray metal burned between her breasts, and the headache grew.

  But she couldn’t give those symptoms any thought. Hyatt staggered back a step at the sight of her, shock turning his face white. His lips trembled as he spoke.

  “How did you do that?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered. And she didn’t. She had not the slightest idea how she had accomplished it.

  Then she realized she would quickly lose any advantage she might have unless she somehow negated the effect of what she had just said. She didn’t know how she had tracked him, but it would be a mistake to let him know that. Somehow, she had to cover.

  But how?

  “I can track you,” she said, “and that is sufficient.”

  “Track me!” he said. “You can actually track me through time and space?”

  Wasn’t that what he had meant? No, obviously not. Then what had he meant?

  Then she knew. Hyatt had not jumped. Somehow, she had jumped him. She had pushed him from her through both time and space.

  There was a moment of silence. Susan said nothing, to avoid giving him any information he might use against her. Hyatt remained quiet as well, out of pure confusion.

  Then, as she watched, his finger again tightened on the blaster pistol’s trigger.

  Again the burning lump of gray metal between her breasts, and the pain behind her eyes intensified. This time, however, nothing was changed. Hyatt still stood menacingly in front of her, still pointed his weapon at her stomach.

  But there was something different. The smile Hyatt had worn only an instant before was gone, and in its place was shock and fear.

  But why?

  And again she knew. She had jumped a second or two into the future, to a time just after the blaster’s beam had past.

  “No!” he screamed. And again he vanished. But this time she knew he had initiated the jump.

  Again Susan detected his path through both time and space, like a golden thread of light. And again she activated her pendant with a thought, and followed.

  This time she followed him down-time, nearly a year and a half into the past. In space she traveled Earth-side, to a hydroponics farm in southern Florida. She appeared beneath a huge plasti-alloy dome, beside Hyatt, as he came around the end of a row of drip troughs containing nearly mature tomato plants.

  “You can’t have tracked me again!” he said, incredulously.

  Susan smiled. “You can’t run,” she said. “No matter where you go, I will follow.”

  “How can you be doing this? It isn’t possible!”

  How am I doing it? she wondered. She simply could not explain it—not to him, and not to herself.

  She reached out for the pendant hanging around his neck, but again he vanished.

  Standing still beneath the huge dome, she watched him run. He flashed frantically from one place to another, from one time to another. Luna City, during its first few months of existence, when it was little more than a five-man survival dome. The Ceres colony, out in the asteroid belt, fifteen years in the future. Earth- side, to 1900 China, during the Boxer rebellion. Never more than a few seconds in one place, then on to another time and location.

  Throughout it all, she simply observed, making no attempt to follow. And finally he stopped.

  He was again Earth-side. New Years Eve, 2141, in a crowd in Times Square, New York.

  It was then Susan made her own jump.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The headache burned behind her eyes as the crowd pressed in around her. Thousands of sweaty, smelly people pushed from all sides, and she feared she would go down and be trampled beneath their feet. For an instant, she thought she would faint.

  Susan fought the faintness down. She had no time for it now. She had to locate Hyatt. And instantly the intricate snowflake pattern grew in her thoughts, and the monosyllabic chant came to her lips.

  Where is he? she wondered, scanning the crowd. Where in this mass of humanity could he be hiding? He had been smart. He had known she would track him, no matter where he went. His only hope had been in finding a place where he could still remain hidden. This was just such a place.

  She stood on her toes and strained to see over the heads of those around her, trying to pick Hyatt out of the crowd. She was taller than most of those around her, but it would still be an impossible task. There were simply too many people—a million, maybe more—and he was incredibly short. She could not possibly hope to locate him in this mass of humanity.

  But perhaps her newly attained ability could. She had tracked him through time and space. Now that she was here, she might just be able to fine tune the location procedure, pinpointing him exactly.

  Clearing her mind, she thought of nothing but Hyatt. She formed a detailed image of him, careful that she did not visualize the Hyatt from her own time. There were no physical differences of which she was aware, so she concentrated on the small differences in personality and character.

  Just in time, she brought herself out of it. Her mind had been concentrated entirely on the task, and she had been oblivious to the crowd around her. She was swooning. She had nearly fallen.

  With an effort she regained control. She would have to pay closer attention to her surroundings. Although the crowd was in gay spirits—happy and eager to ring in the new year—they were a hazard.

  Again she concentrated on locating Hyatt. But this time she kept just enough attention on her surroundings to maintain her balance and stay upright.

  She became barely aware that those around her were staring as she cast her thoughts out over the crowd, searching for the small man in the sea of humanity filling Times Square. Her consciousness swept out in ever increasing circles, like the wave effect of a pebble dropped into a still pond.

  And suddenly, she had him, off to her left and perhaps five hundred feet distant. But there were hundreds of people between them—hundreds of bodies made of hard, unrelenting flesh. How would she possibly get to him through this crowd?

  The answer was simple: The pendant. She would jump to his location, the same way she had jumped to this time and place.

  Then it struck her. That very action was what had set off the New Years Eve riot of 2141—the riot that had killed both her mother and her father. Even now, those around her were watching intently.

  And why shouldn’t they watch? she thought. Here was a tall woman in Fleet red, standing in their midst, mumbling strange syllables and weaving as if in a trance. If she suddenly vanished, they would panic. They would try to scatter in mad fear. Within seconds that fear would spread through the entire crowd, and thousands would be killed.

  Among those thousands would be Susan’s ow
n parents.

  Yet, it was the only way she could get to Hyatt. He had to be stopped, no matter what the cost.

  Besides, she had done it. The New Years Riot was part of history. Her mother and father had died in it.

  But until now she had not realized exactly what had caused that riot. No one had.

  She took a deep breath and, without another thought, jumped.

  Chapter Thirty

  The pattern, followed by the mantra. But still the headache intensified.

  Only three people stood between Hyatt and Susan when she appeared. He was not yet aware of her presence.

  His gaze raked the crowd, searching for her. He knew she would follow, but he didn’t know when she would appear, or where. He was too short to see much, and suddenly Susan realized he was depending on her height to give her away.

  She slouched as best she could in the press of the crowd. If she could blend in for just a few seconds more, until the commotion she heard beginning five hundred feet behind her had reached her new location—a commotion she herself had started when she vanished—and distracted him, she might stand a chance.

  But she had to get near enough to reach out and jerk the pendant from around his neck, snapping him back to his own time before he could make another jump.

  No, that’s not right, Susan thought. He would not be snapped back to his own time. He would cease to exist, because his past self had been killed.

  The noise behind her suddenly intensified, spreading out from the spot where she had disappeared. In only a few seconds that panic would be on her, and Hyatt would be too busy to notice that she was standing right beside him.

  If she could only keep him from seeing her for a few seconds longer…

  She slouched a bit more.

  The roar of panic became louder, and yet louder. Someone pushed her from behind, toward Hyatt. She resisted, using her strength to stand her ground as best she could. She couldn’t make her move yet. It would only fail now. He would only jump, and she would have to track him again. But if she could hold out for only a few seconds more, he would be so fully engulfed in the riot that he would not see her even if he looked straight at her. Not until it was too late.

  Panic washed through the crowd like a wave through the ocean. Those in whose midst she slouched did not know what the panic was about. They were too far from the incident that had set it off—too far from the spot where Susan had vanished. They knew only that those behind were pushing, elbowing, driving them, and that if they did not do the same to those in front of them, they would be trampled.

  Suddenly, Hyatt’s eyes became wide with fear as he realized what was happening. He had not yet spotted Susan, but he knew she had caused the panic. And he knew why.

  His gaze darted, his head snapping almost convulsively. He opened his mouth in a scream that was swallowed up in the crowd’s growing roar.

  Now! Susan thought.

  She straightened, just as Hyatt’s head snapped around. He saw her, and his eyes grew wider still, his mouth twisting in a silent cry of fear and rage.

  Susan pushed past the three people between Hyatt and herself, somehow finding enough strength to throw them aside. She reached out, and the tips of her prosthetic fingers touched the pendant hanging from its chain around his neck.

  Again he cried out, and this time Susan was near enough to hear him. But now it was not a cry of rage, nor of fear. This time the sound she heard was one of infinite despair.

  He started to go down and her fingers wrapped around the pendant. The crowd pressed in around him, and Susan lost sight of him. Somehow, miraculously, she kept her own feet.

  And pulled the pendant free.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Susan stood unmoving for several seconds, her mind numbed. Those around her stared at the spot where Hyatt had lain only an instant before, panic evident in their faces. A few of those near her were turning, attempting to get away from her as best they could in the press of the crowd.

  In eliminating Hyatt, Susan had started another center of panic. Where an instant before the riot might have worked itself out, gradually becoming dampened by the shear mass of the crowd, now it was started anew.

  And she knew that when she disappeared again, returning to her own time and to Luna, the panic would intensify still more.

  But where should she go? What should she do now?

  Back to Luna City, of course. Back to the Survey Service compound and the ship, Photon. Once aboard the ship and out into deep space, she would be safe. That was all she wanted now.

  But first, she had to see Admiral Renford. She had to at least make an attempt to convince him of what had happened. She would first go to Fleet Base.

  Again she thought of her mother and father. She still found it hard to believe that she had been responsible for their deaths. But she had been; she knew that now. And she had survived those forty-seven years in her past—now!— protected by their bodies from the crowd’s trampling feet.

  Suddenly, Susan realized she was crying. There had been nothing she could do about her parents’ death. She had been powerless to influence the events she had known must happen. Yet she wished with all her heart she might have been able to change those events. She wished she could have somehow saved her parents.

  She shook her head sharply. She didn’t have time for tears now. There was still too much she must do.

  Wiping her eyes on the frayed and dirty bandages covering her prosthetic hands, she formed a thought in her mind.

  Instantly she stood in the corridor outside Admiral Renford’s office, just as she had less than a week ago. But it seemed much longer than a week. So much had happened since she had last talked to the Admiral. Her life had been turned literally inside out.

  The snowflake pattern formed in her mind and the mumbled mantra came to her lips. This time, however, they seemed to have absolutely no effect on the headache. The pain in her head still flared like fire, unaltered by the pattern and the mantra that had worked so often before.

  She stepped to the door, and it irised open. The reception desk in the outer office was empty. Krueger was gone, just as she had known he would be. She walked to the door to Renford’s inner office and it, too, irised open. She stepped through.

  Renford sat behind his desk. His eyes became wide with surprise as he looked up from his paperwork.

  “What in hell are you doing here?” he said. Then he noticed that her uniform was soiled and scorched, and that her prosthetic hands and arms were bandaged. In places the bandages were coming off, exposing the burned through plasti-alloy and the electronics and mechanics beneath. “What happened?”

  “We need to talk,” she said. “We’re in trouble.”

  “I know. Krueger’s body was found in a hospital room in the Survey Service compound less than an hour ago. A hospital room registered to you!”

  “Then he’s dead?” He had been alive when Susan left the hospital room.

  Renford nodded.

  Had Hyatt finished him off? she wondered. Or perhaps her double had. Would it do any good to tell the admiral what had happened? Would he believe her?

  Probably not. If it hadn’t happened to her, if she hadn’t actually experienced it all herself, she would never have believed it.

  Still, she had no choice. She had to tell him, had to try to convince him. She needed help, and he was her last hope.

  “Will you listen for a few minutes before turning me in?” she asked. “And will you at least try to believe me?”

  “I’ll try,” Renford said. He motioned her to the chair by desk. “I owe you that much.”

  “Fine.” She sat. “It all started with the attack in my quarters here on Fleet Base, the one I told you about before…”

  She told him everything. She told him about her double from the future and about Hyatt’s double. She told him how she had found Hyatt dead out at the mining camp—a mining camp that should still be in full operation but was now closed. And she told him how Krueger had
tried to kill her. Showing him the pendants, she told him how she had jumped from one place and time to another. She even told him about the death of her parents in a riot she had caused.

  Throughout her story, Renford gave no indication whether he believed her or not. He simply listened quietly, his expression blank.

  Even after she had finished, he remained silent for a long moment. Then, finally, he spoke.

  “I’d like to believe you,” he said. “I’d like to say I believed everything you just told me. But it’s all too incredible. You’re asking me to believe you’re from another world, a world in which Bill Darcy is not Luna City’s mayor, but his brother is—a brother who has been dead for a number of years. You’re asking me to believe there is a universe where the mining camp is still operating, and the solar power satellite has been destroyed. Is that right?”

  “Yes.” And immediately Susan felt the absurdity of it all.

  “You’re asking me to believe that a future Hyatt, aided by a future Susan Tanner, bought my personal secretary with promises of power?”

  Susan looked down at her bandaged hands laying limp and lifeless in her lap, and nodded. Somehow, she could not meet Renford’s gaze.

  “And you’re saying that you can instantaneously jump through both time and space, ranging from Luna to Earth, and from the past to the future?”

  Again she nodded.

  Both were silent for a time. Finally, Susan looked up, into the admiral’s eyes. He really was trying to believe her—it showed in his expression. He wanted to believe. But he could not.

  “I know how impossible it all sounds,” Susan said. “I know you can’t believe what I’ve just told you. In your place, I wouldn’t believe it, either.”

  “There’s simply no proof,” he said.

  Susan nodded with resignation. He was right, there was no proof. Yet, somehow she had to prove it to him. Somehow she had to make him believe.

  How could she do it? There was just too much to it that was absolutely unbelievable.