by Kim, Penny
“But Kanon?” Vin asked, still unconvinced. “She rescued me. They were going to kill me.”
“An elaborate scheme to help earn your trust. Do you have any idea how much they would make from selling unadulterated webs? The fortune he’s made is pennies in comparison.”
Vin couldn’t argue, it strangely made sense on paper. He felt disoriented, unable to formulate a good argument.
“I know I’m not convincing you, and it’s clear I’m going to have to do a better job at telling Director Hay,” Vin said.
“You won’t tell him anything. I’ll handle this.” Chief Smiley said, tapping his fingers together.
“My head hurts,” Vin said, feeling exhausted.
“Early sign of PTS. Why don’t you take a few days off, by the time you get back, I’ll have your new orders ready.”
“Orders?” Vin asked, momentarily confused again.
“Yes, we need begin a new case file on Kanon Hay.”
11
“Do you have any idea how many laws I’m breaking by being here,” Quill asked.
“I need to access to Central Computer,” Vin stated, pacing in his cubicle.
He had used all his negotiating tactics to bring Quill into the office. As only essential employees were allowed to work during a government shutdown, Quill could be thrown in jail for even entering the building. His agitated state seemed to suggest that he knew this.
“Are you out of your mind?” Quill cried, sitting up in his chair. “Only VIPs have access. Why do you need it?” he asked belatedly.
“I need to figure out how Kanon uses the web.”
“Vin . . . ” Quill began, looking at him in confusion.
“Please believe me,” Vin demanded, his voice rising, “she was there—without anyone from the Directorate knowing. Saved my head—right before Inspector Habit chopped it off.”
“Inspector, who? Okay.” Quill held his hands up in front of him before slapping them on his knees. “Assuming this all really happened, and you aren’t suffering from a PTS incident . . . ”
“You can check my case files,” Vin snapped angrily.
“Tell me more about Inspector Habit.”
“He was at my location when I landed. Habit is the one working with Julius. They are luring inspectors to them in order to steal their webs. They were about to do the same to me until Kanon arrived on the scene.”
“I get it, Vin,” Quill began. “It’s just the dramatic nature of your rescue—very similar to how you rescued Kanon. PTS is really strong in these kinds of situations, sometimes people report crazy stories like this.”
“I told you,” Vin said, before stopping suddenly.
Turning, he looked directly at Quill.
“What do you mean, other reports?”
“Inspectors have reported similar stories,” Quill replied, easing back in his chair. “People appearing in random places, no record of it in Central Computer, stuff like that.”
“Tell me more,” Vin commanded, sitting down heavily.
“They came in as reports—alerting Central Computer that there were interlopers in restricted areas.” Quill paused to take a sip of water. “In every instance, there was no one else traveling.”
“So all you really do is run the information against Central Computer?”
“That’s how this works, Vin,” Quill responded, smiling to blunt the harshness of his tone. “Central Computer tracks all the codes issued—you can’t travel without one, and if you do, we know about it.”
“The Directorate doesn’t value eyewitness accounts from its inspectors?” Vin asked, incredulous. “All this time spent training their inspectors only to have them overruled by a computer.”
“The system has been in place for years, Vin!”
“Two words,” Vin retorted. “Julius Arnold.”
Quill pushed back in his chair, looking thoughtful.
“Okay, I’ll grant you that point. The fact that Julius is traveling undetected is interesting. But in that case, it’s clear he’s using someone who can manipulate Central Computer.”
“Well then it must be the people with access,” Vin said.
“Wow, Vin, are you accusing Director Hay and Chief Smiley?” Quill asked, laughing slightly. “Are you feeling okay?”
“If not them, who?”
Quill looked down at his hands and then up at Vin.
“Do you have to make me spell it out for you?” he asked softly.
Vin felt blood rush to his face.
“Kanon?” Vin asked, confused.
“When she joined the Directorate, they gave her the highest level of authorization.”
“Why?” Vin asked, still not understanding.
“I assume it’s what Director Hay wanted. To tell you the truth, I don’t really know why anyone does anything around here. Whenever you ask, they tell you it’s need-to-know.”
“It’s a great way to avoid questions, that’s for sure. So if only three people have access, wouldn’t you assume we’ve just identified the three people who are assisting Julius Arnold?” Vin asked, his head spinning.
“Chief Smiley gave you a new mission, I’d say he’s focusing on just one,” Quill said.
“It’s impossible,” Vin responded, heartbroken that Quill had arrived at the same conclusion.
Vin sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair. He needed to see Kanon again, if only to find out if the flicker of attraction between them was real, and not just his imagination. He didn’t need amorous feelings right now. What he needed was to clear all this up, before Chief Smiley got serious about his new case.
Quill sat up, oblivious to Vin’s reflections.
“We are lucky in one respect—the government shutdown has distracted everyone from the conclusion that there is a mole in the Directorate,” he said glibly.
“And when the government is back online?” Vin asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from someone he trusted.
“Then every inspector will go after Kanon,” Quill replied with a shrug. “Sorry, man, I know you like her.”
Vin studied Quill closely.
“You are sure it’s her?”
Quill’s eyes took on a dull tone, as he folded his hands in front of him calmly.
“Vin, you are an old-fashioned romantic and I like that about you, but it’s clear that Kanon is the mole. I mean, you were sent to rescue her as a rookie inspector. Does your resounding success smell fishy to you? I’m sure Julius Arnold wanted her to win your trust. Man, I feel like I have to spell it out for you.”
“Maybe you do, I’m sorry. It just doesn’t feel right,” Vin said, his voice devoid of emotion.
“When are you briefing Director Hay? Man, would I like to see the look on his face when that happens.”
“Chief Smiley briefed him this morning,” Vin responded. “I wasn’t invited.”
“If I were you, I’d make yourself scarce,” Quill responded, looking at his friend stoically.
“That will be difficult, since everyone else is sent home.” Vin said, an idea springing to mind. Avoiding Director Hay was the last thing he intended to do. “That reminds me, thanks again for coming in.”
“No worries. I was on my way anyhow. Chief Smiley can’t find a file.”
“That’s nice of you, to risk a prison sentence to help him,” Vin said.
“So, that means you keep this between us,” Quill replied, his tone not altogether friendly.
Vin nodded, watching as Quill rose, leaving the drab confines of his cube and proceeding down the hallway to Chief Smiley’s office.
Vin waited until he heard a door slam. Director Hay’s office was across from Chief Smiley’s. Using Quill as a distraction, he could easily slip inside without Smiley knowing.
Walking quickly down the hall, Vin stopped before Director Hay’s office—hand on the doorknob. It was a risky move, but he had no other options. If this act of insubordination backfired, he would be sent home—the whole scheme at risk. Trying not to thi
nk about it, he opened the door.
Director Hay was sitting at his desk, head in his hands. The news that his daughter was now public enemy number one must have gone over like a lead balloon. He looked up and, seeing who it was, gestured for Vin to enter.
“Close the door,” he said.
Vin took a seat, unsure as to how to start the conversation. Director Hay broke the silence.
“What’s on your mind, son?”
“Sir, I know Chief Smiley briefed you on, er, my sighting of Inspector Hay.”
The room was so silent Vin could hear the coffee machine brewing in the break room.
Swallowing heavily, he continued.
“I know he didn’t believe me, but I have to ask, sir, do you?”
Director Hay didn’t respond immediately, looking down at his hands, as if in a trance. Finally, he spoke.
“I’ve been working this job this since time travel started,” he stated simply. “Before that, I was in Interpol. Before that, I was a police chief—got my start as a beat cop in Baltimore.” He looked up at Vin, continuing in earnest.
“There was nothing I wanted more than for Kanon to go to school and have all those opportunities that weren’t granted to me. I wanted her to be president of a corporation, a non-profit, that sort of thing. Instead, she wanted to work here.”
“Sir, this isn’t your fault,” Vin cut in.
Director Hay continued as if he hadn’t spoken.
“I didn’t treat her like the rest of you. She was still my baby. As a result, she became susceptible to the worst kind of temptation.”
“Director Hay,” Vin interrupted, putting his hand on the desk to press his point. “I don’t believe your daughter is in league with Julius Arnold. If anything, I think she is one of the few inspectors who can bring him in. She’s learned how to manipulate webs, moving through time unrestricted.”
“No, son, I’m afraid that’s not possible, I appreciate you coming in here . . . ”
“Sir, you must believe me. I can prove it. Open Central Computer.”
“It’s a law enforcement system,” Director Hay began.
Vin was quick to counter.
“And this is an ongoing investigation incited by me, who is the lead inspector on the case. Pull it up, please.”
After a few tense moments, Director Hay pulled out his reading pane.
“The last place we sent her was training camp,” Director Hay said, activating the 3D screen.
“The last place you sent her,” Vin corrected, attempting to make his other point.
Director Hay stared blankly at the screen, forehead wrinkled.
“I saw Kanon twice since that time. Once during training,” Vin said, hoping Director Hay wouldn’t notice his expression. He thought about that night frequently, and not all of his musings were PG-rated. “And once when I was recently deployed in the Middle Ages. Neither of those trips,” Vin pointed to the information before him, “are listed here. Your daughter has found a loophole in the web, and I think Julius is exploiting a similar mechanism.”
Satisfied with his explanation, Vin pushed back in his seat—hands resting on his knees. Director Hay stared at the reading pane. After dismissing the screen, he fixed Vin with a stare.
“Ok, Inspector Damato. I’ll play along. Chief Smiley was just in here, laying an impressive case for the fact that Julius Arnold is working with a mole in the Directorate—specifically, my daughter. What is your alternate opinion?”
Vin sat up, ready to duel.
“Someone within the Directorate is indeed helping Julius Arnold. Someone who knows the web could be utilized without Central Computer.”
“What do you mean?” Director Hay asked, drumming his fingers on his desk.
“An old Inspector, goes by the name of Habit.”
“The name is familiar.”
“I think he met Julius during his travels, and was recruited from there. They’ve obviously been enjoying themselves, doing what Julius does best.”
“Wreaking havoc,” Director Hay signed. “Spare me the details, I can hardly stomach the report on what he did in France . . . ”
“I think he’s been up to this for quite some time. Julius thinks he represents a new world order, and I don’t think he’s strictly in it for the money.”
“What do you mean, he’s already rich,” Director Hay said gruffly.
“Think about it, sir. Unregulated time travel. It’s a gold mine—if it’s true,” Vin said.
Director Hay was silent for a few moments before he gestured to his reading pane.
“I don’t know what’s more terrifying. The fact that he has committed these atrocities for this long or that it hasn’t impacted Standard D.”
“It certainly makes our mission awkward, if it’s true. Web technology is inexpensive, they cost less than a reading pane—I know because I used to order them for inspectors.” Vin shot him a look. “I’m an analyst, remember? He hasn’t impacted Standard D yet, but if we had a thousand Julius Arnolds running around, they might.”
Director Hay looked at Vin intensely.
“And here I was, ready to sell my daughter up the river. You’ve offered a perfectly reasonable explanation, so I want you to do something for me.”
“Anything, sir,” Vin said, pleased someone had finally listened to him.
“Say no more of this. Work on your next case.”
“But . . . ” Vin began, confused.
“If what you say is true, my mind is at ease. It’s about time I trusted my daughter as implicitly as she trusts me. But I need you to find her, and when you do, lay low until this budget crisis is over.”
“I can do that,” Vin said, still feeling unsettled.
“Don’t fuck up,” Director Hay snapped, pointing a thick finger at him.
“No, sir,” Vin said, rising at the dismissal.
There was more to say about Julius, but he wasn’t sure how to get it across. Julius was queuing himself as the leader of the free world. A person like Director Hay couldn’t understand the motivations of such a man. Vin only hoped that Kanon would.
Pleased with his successful coup, Vin’s mood fell when he exited the office in front of a stunned Chief Smiley.
“What are you doing in there?” he asked.
“Um, he wanted coffee,” Vin responded, walking down the hallway in the direction of the break room.
His ruse worked—Chief Smiley followed him, talking animatedly.
“I briefed him on the situation this morning, he agreed, albeit reluctantly, to put you on the case. I’d like you to deploy immediately,” Chief Smiley said.
“What are my orders again?” Vin asked hollowly, going through the motions as he fiddled with the coffee machine.
“I sent it to your reading pane,” Chief Smiley said. “You have orders to find Kanon Hay—take lethal force if necessary. She is now an enemy of the state.
“If necessary,” Vin responded, feeling blood drain from his face.
“That’s right, the penalty for aiding and abetting a time travel criminal is death, remember your legal training?”
12
Why did it work for me and not Vin?
Kanon had been mulling this question over for days. After arriving back at the training camp, she found the monk gone for his daily walk. Undeterred, she completed her chores, trying to distract herself as she waited for Vin to arrive. After a few hours, she realized he was not coming.
When the monk returned, he didn’t look particularly surprised to see her. Kanon assumed she had arrived not long after she departed.
Kanon completed her chores with a sense of finality, feeling her time at training camp coming to a close. After dinner, she sat silently with the monk, sipping her tea.
“I just don’t understand why Vin didn’t follow me,” Kanon said.
The monk shocked her by responding.
“He was a good student, but not my best,” he said.
Kanon smiled at him, declining to ask who h
is best was. As changed as she had become, seeing Vin again pulled all her anxieties back to the surface.
“I need to see him again,” she said succinctly.
The monk nodded and Kanon felt strongly that this was their goodbye.
“You will help him finish,” he said, coming as close to a smile as he possibly could.
“Finish what?” Kanon asked, breathless.
“His training,” the monk said, rising to stoke the fire.
At night, they resumed their usual positions, the monk in his meditative state near the fire, Kanon on her cot. After watching him for a few moments, Kanon retrieved her web from under her cot. Feeling the cool, gelatinous material wrap around her, she hit the red button.
The Duchess was happy to see her, though a bit surprised by the fierceness of Kanon’s hug.
“Cécile! But you are in a good mood this morning. Here, take a puppy,” the Duchess said, smiling at Kanon and wrestling a dog from her skirts.
Kanon had timed her excursion just before their return to Paris—landing in her boudoir before breakfast. As long as she arrived before the deadly masquerade ball, she would find the Duchess blessedly alive.
After dressing hastily, she had gone directly to her room—barely waiting to be ushered in as she pounced on her friend.
Kanon took the proffered dog gratefully and placed it in her lap, focusing on taking deep breaths. It had been awhile since she wore the ornate dresses of court attire. Shifting slightly, she decided not to waste a moment. She wasn’t sure where Julius Arnold was, but he would surely be looking for her.
“Duchess, have you heard any good gossip lately? Maybe some exotic visitors to court I might have missed.”
“It is far too early to talk of such things,” the Duchess admonished, playing with the puppy that had leapt off Kanon’s lap.
“I have just felt so out of touch lately,” Kanon said, realizing that although she could drop in and out of the past as she wished, she could not control the Duchess.
She put on an impassive expression as she tried to coax the puppy towards her.
“Come here, my darling, come see Auntie Cécile.”
This made the Duchess smile, and she began to cooperate.