The Time Travel Directorate

by Kim, Penny

  “Come on,” he said, gesturing inside.

  Before she could enter, a monk appeared in the doorway, his shiny bald head contrasting with the darkness now closing around them.

  “Who is he and what is this place?” Kanon demanded, firmly annoyed.

  “You come to complete your training,” the monk responded, looking at her with the laser-like focus of a man many years his junior.

  “I just can’t believe it,” Vin said, looking amused. “How is it that you never completed inspector training?”

  “Of course I did,” Kanon responded, wondering how a shack in the middle of nowhere constituted training.

  This struck Vin as funny—he began laughing uproariously. Kanon felt herself blush as the monk gave her a sidelong glance.

  “Ah, I see,” she finally replied, realizing there were some things her father kept from her. “It is clear I was shielded from a few realities, shall we say, of inspector training. That does not mean you can make a joke of me.”

  “You shouldn’t even call yourself an inspector!” Vin cried. “And to think, they sent you into one of the most highly regulated areas!”

  Kanon glared at him.

  “Inspector Damato. Has it occurred to you that I was sent there specifically because of my talents? How did you put it? Tea and cakes? You think it is amusing, but I know how effective female persuasion can be. Maybe one day you’ll understand this.”

  “Perhaps,” Vin responded nonchalantly.

  Sobering, he entered the shack.

  “Or maybe not,” Kanon replied to herself, studying the monk.

  They must have made a funny picture—her in an elaborate 18th century gown and him in a simple robe.

  “I’m Inspector Hay,” she finally offered, giving the curtsy she was so accustomed to.

  “You call me teacher,” the monk replied succinctly, gesturing to a pile of garments near the washbasin.

  “Change.”

  Frowning, Kanon walked over to the basin. Dropping her web to the ground, she began divesting herself of her gown and layers of undergarments, grunting with effort as she did. She usually had servants to assist her. Without them, she tore at the laces and buckles, removing the layers of court extravagance that were de rigueur for her life at Versailles.

  Washing hastily, she felt like a trainee in the military.

  I didn’t join the Directorate for this nonsense, she thought, putting on the loose garments laid out for her. They were obviously for a mid-century Chinese laborer. She felt perfectly ridiculous.

  “And so the pendulum swings,” Kanon voiced to herself, holding her gown in her hands, unsure as to what to do with it.

  The voluminous folds and heavy fabric seemed almost foreign to her, when so recently it had been a comforting part of her daily routine. She balled the gown up with the web. Turning, she entered the shack.

  They certainly appeared comfortable—the monk was busy preparing food while Vin poured himself wine from an elaborately decorated gourd. Sitting herself down, Kanon looked at Vin intently.

  “Please start from the beginning—who you are and how you came to rescue me. I’m owed that much at least.”

  Vin didn’t respond at once. He took his time taking a long drink before wiping his chin and giving her a look of extreme patience.

  “As I told you, my name is Vin Damato. I joined the Directorate as an analyst.”

  “Analysts can’t be inspectors,” she said, eager to hurt him in some way.

  As he colored in embarrassment, Kanon reveled in her success.

  “I’m sorry, I thought you asked me to explain?” he snapped.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, not meaning any of it. “I didn’t mean to imply that you are somehow incapable, it is clear that I am in your debt. You saved my life, thank you. I just find it interesting that they are allowing analysts to become inspectors.”

  Vin studied her for a few moments, and Kanon felt herself blushing. Even with scrubbing her face clean, she must have looked terrible.

  “You find it interesting, well I find you equally compelling,” Vin responded, filling his cup with more wine.

  “Oh?” asked Kanon, realizing he was still angry with her about the analyst comment. She smiled, accepting the challenge. “Go on.”

  Vin fixed her with a stare.

  “You entered the Directorate as an inspector straight out of school, not based on talent—but because of your father. You have no formal inspector training, but despite this, you were sent to hobnob with aristocratic ladies of the Versailles court. As for me? I put myself through school, taking the lowest position at the Directorate as an analyst. And then it was only a matter of luck that I got to travel because of the clusterfuck that is our legislative system. And it was only because your father, the one that shut you away in France for the past five years, begged me to.”

  He finished, downing a glass of wine in one swig.

  Kanon sat in silence, focusing on the gentle clink of the dishes the monk was preparing. It was a nice distraction from his speech—saying things she never thought would be spoken aloud, especially not to her. Her unique status as the Director’s daughter had never been thrown in her face quite so brutally.

  Vin was toying with the wine gourd, not looking particularly bashful after his hurtful statements. She swallowed heavily before responding.

  “If there was training I missed as an inspector, I’m determined to set that right. But you must understand, I’ve been in the field for the past five years.” She felt close to tears, trying to get her emotions under control, she continued, “I need to know any news on what’s to become of Julius Arnold. I want to help,” she finished.

  “Not for me to decide,” Vin replied, although Kanon detected a slight pause.

  The monk brought over dishes of rice and vegetables. After relieving the first pangs of hunger, Vin continued, “I can tell you that the investigation is ongoing. We don’t expect Julius to stick around much longer in France. It’s clear the man has an extensive network—he’s built up personas in many locations.”

  “Impressive research for a new inspector. You must be a natural for it,” Kanon replied, changing tactics.

  If he wasn’t going to give her information due to a sense of duty, perhaps he was susceptible to flattery? Kanon was an expert in this field, having perfected the art of sweet-talking during her time with the Duchess.

  Vin grunted in response, applying himself to the food.

  “Tell me how you became an inspector?” she cooed.

  He looked at her blankly, clearly reluctant to tell her more.

  “It was Chief Smiley’s idea,” he responded shortly.

  “Ah, and by virtue of you being an analyst,” Kanon pieced together, “you aren’t subject to the blanket travel restriction. So then who is going to track down Julius?” she asked, fearing the answer as Vin straightened.

  He looked up from his rice bowl with a smile.

  “Yours truly, Inspector Hay.”

  “How is she?” Director Hay asked.

  Despite the intensity of his gaze, Vin maintained his composure. A few short hours had elapsed since Vin’s meeting with Director Hay—however, his training amounted to almost two years spent in the past. It was a startling revelation, one in which Chief Smiley had warned him about.

  Seeing Vin’s dazed state, Chief Smiley decided to interject.

  “Inspector Hay is fine. Vin has been through a lot, sir. I think it’s pertinent to mention our Post Travel Syndrome services.”

  “Yes, yes,” Director Hay echoed, coming to life again after affirming that his daughter was safe.

  Chief Smiley rambled on while Vin studied the changing pictures of Kanon on Director Hay’s photo pane.

  She looked so different from those photographs. In person, Kanon was more refined—ladylike. Vin wondered how long it had been since Director Hay had seen her. His little girl was not so little anymore.

  By Directorate standards, Kanon Hay was the most
popular girl in school. Their dramatic encounter felt like a tumultuous first date, which made Vin feel in control—and powerful.

  Chief Smiley broke Vin’s train of thought, tapping him to draw his attention.

  “If, for any reason, you want to talk to someone, let me know immediately. Your experience is unusual—moving in and out of time so quickly can disturb your brain’s understanding of the present state.”

  Vin nodded as if he understood. Chief Smiley looked at him and sighed.

  “The brain takes time to process change—you can quickly slip into Post Travel Syndrome. We call it PTS. Don’t think I haven’t seen it before. If you exhibit signs of disorientation, confusion or depression, I’ll lock you up in a mental institution quicker than you can say uncle.”

  “Yes,” Director Hay repeated, nodding his head but looking as if he had checked out of the conversation.

  “After one rather catastrophic lawsuit which involved several inspectors, the Directorate had to make some changes,” Chief Smiley explained. “The first was to limit the amount of travel to different locations. Jumping around too quickly can jar the mind,” he noted.

  Vin knew what they were referring to—the analysts talked of it nonstop. Some prominent inspectors had been committed—all due to PTS. Even now, he could feel the change. He was gone from the present moment for two years, the revelation made him want to throw up.

  “Well? How do you feel?” Director Hay asked, looking up at Vin.

  Vin pushed the feelings away. He was a different person now. Not a naive analyst, but a confident inspector—so talented, he had just saved Kanon Hay from imminent doom.

  “I’m fine, Director Hay. And I’m happy to report that your daughter is perfectly safe, back at training camp.”

  “Why is she at training camp? I want to see her,” Director Hay said, ignoring the ringing of his reading pane.

  For a moment, Vin wasn’t sure how to answer, before Chief Smiley saved him.

  “Due to the ongoing investigation, I didn’t think it was prudent to bring her back, sir,” Chief Smiley responded.

  “Why the hell not?” Director Hay asked.

  Chief Smiley adjusted his wire frames. He could easily have his eyesight fixed. Vin assumed he kept them for another reason, perhaps to make himself look formidable.

  “Julius Arnold is clearly aware that Kanon is your daughter. And certain details of the investigation put her at risk should she return to headquarters,” Chief Smiley said.

  “Have I been briefed on these details?” Director Hay barked.

  “Yes, sir, but I’m happy to . . . ”

  “No, no. I remember now,” Director Hay responded, gazing at his reading pane.

  Vin felt he did not remember, but was too proud to admit it. Without thinking, he joined the conversation.

  “Sir, my next assignment is to track down Julius Arnold, I should be briefed as well.”

  “Absolutely not,” Chief Smiley quipped, “How dare you . . . ”

  “No, he has a point,” Director Hay responded, smiling at Vin for the first time. “The rumor is you were in and out of training faster than any previous recruit, how long did it take you, one year?”

  “Just over two, sir.”

  “Hmm, that might tie someone else’s personal best.” Director Hay looked pointedly at Chief Smiley before continuing, “I’m impressed with you, Vin. I think it’s prudent that you work the Arnold case as hard as possible.”

  “But, sir,” Chief Smiley began, shifting in his chair nervously. “The law strictly prohibits the deployment of inspectors for purposes of . . . ”

  “I thought you told me Vin is exempt from that particular clause?” Director Hay asked, his blue eyes sparkling.

  Vin had never seen Chief Smiley bested in the game of logic with Director Hay.

  “Yes, sir,” Chief Smiley stammered, a painful look on his face. “The same loophole still applies.”

  “Make sure you formalize his status as an inspector once this budget deadlock is figured out,” Director Hay commanded, turning to smile at Vin. “Until then, update him on the situation, I have a budget meeting.”

  Chief Smiley rose to hasten their exit, but before Vin could leave his chair, Director Hay’s hand shot up from across the desk.

  “Thank you, son,” he said, shaking his hand firmly.

  Feeling his head swell to epic proportions, Vin smiled.

  “Of course sir, glad I could be of use.”

  Vin followed a seething Chief Smiley out of the office. As soon as the door closed, he got a good look at those thin wire frames, as Chief Smiley whirled around to face him.

  “How dare you speak to me that way,” he snapped. “The only reason you are involved is because you I put you on the case.”

  Chief Smiley continued ranting as he stormed down the corridor and into his office.

  “And to think I have to brief an analyst, of all people!” he cried, throwing his reading pane on his desk. “This is just why I . . . ” He stopped himself, fixing his glasses and adjusting his composure.

  Vin took a seat, watching the red drain from Chief Smiley’s face. Appearing somewhat composed, he drew his reading pane towards him.

  “I’m sending you some files as background. You will continue the good work of Inspector Quill, who was previously assigned the Julius Arnold case.”

  “Where is Quill now?” Vin asked as his reading pane glowed to life.

  “Compliance training.”

  “What for?” Vin asked.

  Chief Smiley shot him an unfriendly look.

  “Inspectors aren’t above the law, the Directorate has internal controls just like every other government entity. Quill was due for training. He reported to campus to complete it per protocol. Then the government shut down, so there he remains.”

  “Where did Julius initially travel?” Vin said, browsing through the files.

  “It is all there!” Chief Smiley snapped, before stopping himself, trying to control his anger.

  Vin wondered whether he regretted the “loophole” he used to send him into the field. It seemed like every logical question Vin asked, Smiley found offensive. Perhaps the pseudo-inspector he created threatened him in some way.

  “Quill spotted Julius in his area of responsibility—the Colonies,” he finally answered. “I believe the first overstay was in Salem. From there, he jumped to the Middle Ages—and then to Inspector Hay’s area of responsibility.”

  Vin was going to ask whether or not it was okay to record their conversation for his future reference, but decided not to risk angering him. Silently, he tapped the record button, fully intending to transcribe the notes later. He placed his reading pane on the chair next to him and folded his hands as Chief Smiley continued.

  “After your overtly dramatic rescue of Kanon Hay, Julius Arnold must have jumped to another location.”

  “Is there any way to track exactly where he is?” Vin asked.

  “We should be able to trace it using Central Computer. Every web has a unique code—it’s all very straightforward. Julius must be using an untraceable code of some kind, which must be why we can’t locate him,” Chief Smiley said, dripping with condescension.

  “Yes, I understand,” Vin responded succinctly, moving for his reading pane.

  Perusing the files, he paused on a picture of Julius Arnold. It was a dated photo, taken from the time Julius was still a respected corporate mogul. Even then, his thin, pockmarked face and sharp blue eyes hinted at a man with callous ethics.

  “No, you don’t understand—that’s why I’m telling you this,” Chief Smiley barked back. “Julius Arnold is a murderer, a philanderer, and public enemy number one. Now, this mission is slightly different from your previous one.”

  “How so?” Vin asked, casually glancing up from his reading pane.

  “Let me explain to you Inspector Damato,” Smiley shot back, incensed by Vin’s attitude.

  Vin was no longer the subservient analyst of a few hour
s before. He knew the change in himself, and so did Director Hay. It appeared that Chief Smiley would need a little bit longer to adjust.

  Chief Smiley fussed with his glasses, staring down at Vin as best he could.

  “Julius Arnold has already threatened deadly force against an inspector, because of that, you are authorized to take him out by any means necessary.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. What happened after Quill spotted him?” Vin cut in, eager to keep the lecture short.

  “What?” Chief Smiley asked, tapping on his reading pane.

  “The first time Julius overstayed,” Vin asked, flipping through the old case files.

  “Hmm, let me see,” Chief Smiley responded, not looking up from his reading pane.

  His manner took Vin by surprise. Usually Chief Smiley had the answer before you asked the question. Vin watched him carefully, wondering whether the stress of the shutdown had gotten to him. Before he could ponder this further, Chief Smiley assumed his usual haughty demeanor.

  “You are distracting me needlessly. What I was going to say is your last mission was to rescue Kanon Hay. This one requires you to bring in Julius Arnold—dead or alive. You only have physical training as an inspector—we need to make sure you have the administrative training as well.”

  “Which means what?” Vin asked.

  “It means when you kill him no one can prosecute you,” Chief Smiley quipped. “Or the case won’t be thrown out since you weren’t acting in an official capacity,” he finished.

  Vin sat up in his chair.

  “Okay, I’m ready. What far off mountain are you going to drop me into this time?”

  “It is worse than that I’m afraid,” Chief Smiley said ominously. “You are going to legal training. I’ve just programmed it in, you are ordered to leave immediately.”

  Vin nodded, standing to exit with a sinking feeling.

  It wasn’t until he was in the deployment room that he realized his reading pane was still in Chief Smiley’s office.

  As the trapdoor flew open, and Vin reappeared on a nondescript college campus, he decided it wasn’t a huge loss. It would probably run out of battery eventually, at which time, Vin would simply recharge it and take notes from the recording.