Soul Source: Back and There Again

by Charles Vella

  "Who cleared him for the retinal scanner?"

  "He stays." Good question though. But Agnes thought she knew the answer. Whoever it was had done her a favor. If the idea forming in her mind was going to work she wanted to be sure Rick got the version of the story she wanted to tell.

  "I know some of you," Agnes went on without waiting for more argument. "Let's start with those of you I haven't met introducing yourselves, shall we? I'm Agnes Bauer, the new director." Agnes let her mind wander to the coming battle as they introduced themselves. Griff Michaels, the one who didn't want the promotion, Eileen Brannigan, acting head of operations, who couldn't win the race because no one was running against her. Ben Lemberger, head of outfitting, Kristen Brady, travel, and that strange character Dutch, who headed technical support. If Dutch had a last name he didn't think it was worth mentioning.

  "We won't take minutes," Pruitt said. "This is a level three conference," he added, Agnes assumed for her benefit. "So the materials could unfortunately not be distributed beforehand and will all be vaporized immediately afterward. You each have a copy of my report in front of you. We can dispense with the discussion of the reasons for this mission because it's being demanded by outsiders with the authority to override the standard procedures with no regard for the consequences."

  "This mission was suggested at the highest levels," Poole sputtered. He turned away from Pruitt's arched eyebrows to Agnes. "It's a matter of national security." Poole evidently didn't find any comfort in Agnes's expression and looked around the room. "It's also in line with our mission of experimenting with time travel while providing information that can help the course of justice."

  "Our mission is to experiment incrementally," Pruitt corrected. "In any event," he went on before Poole could answer. "We have dispensed with that particular protection so we can move on to the report. If you would read it we can begin the discussion."

  Justin shot her a helpless look. The table in front of him was empty. Evidently being cleared for the room didn't gain you access to the materials. Would Rick already have them from his mole Verma? Someone else? Agnes shook off the questions and turned her attention to the table in front of her. A pad of paper, two sharpened number two pencils, and a thin, white folder with nothing written on the front. Who needs a time machine? Going to a meeting here was like stepping back into the nineteen-nineties. She stared at the blank white cover of the folder for a long time after everyone else had folded theirs back and begun reading. She could feel Pruitt's eyes on her without looking up. She finally set her jaw, slid the folder closer, and opened it.

  It was exactly as she'd thought. Pruitt's shot across her bow. The background about the missing video tape. The need to keep the chrononauts as far away from the actual crime and from the people back there as possible. It all led inexorably to one conclusion. They would go back and steal the tape themselves. They'd bring it back and it would be discovered by Rick Hartron's scurrying mice. They'd find it at an estate sale, mailed anonymously to a news station, however. But Pruitt didn't need time travel to make the tape appear. What prevented it from showing up at that estate sale or news station tomorrow? Because Pruitt didn't want Agnes talking about what happened that day any more than Agnes wanted to talk about it. So why weren't they working together to find a way out? Because Pruitt didn't work with you. He manipulated and threatened. Right now Pruitt probably assumed that Agnes really did want to stop the mission as much as he did. This report was his way of telling her to find a way stop it or face the consequences. What would he do when he discovered what Agnes was starting to think? That she couldn't stop the mission but maybe, just maybe, she could stop the crime? It was like a beginner skiing. Going too fast to stop so just bend over and try to get to the bottom of the hill before falling down. But the bottom of the hill looked awfully small from here.

  If they did what was in this report Rick and his cronies would have a surprise coming. And once they knew they wouldn't have the tape to wave around sanctimoniously they'd lose interest, let this crime, this travesty, happen all over again. Mangled bodies oozing thick, red life into neutral colored carpets. Ruth spending her life in an asylum.

  The people in this room could stop it, change all that, but they wouldn't, all because of some abstract fear that stopping it would somehow affect the world today. Rick Hartron and his ilk wouldn't stop it because they wouldn't care once it didn't affect the election. And this tape wouldn't affect the election because it wouldn't show Delilah Sampson's flushed face letting the killers in. She knew it and so did Pruitt. She was the one with a good enough reason to stop it. But how?

  She finished reading and looked up directly into Pruitt's blue eyes and wondered how she hadn't felt them on her. She pulled her stare away and lowered the pages to the table top. They were all looking at her. She took a silent, deep breath. What time is it? Game time.

  She could see it in their eyes, even the ones who clearly didn't like Pruitt, which appeared to be everyone in the room with the possible exception of Pruitt. You couldn't argue with his logic. If they were going to undertake this mission, this seemed like the way.

  "Very interesting." She closed the folder and looked directly at Pruitt. "These men, they were wearing ski masks weren't they?"

  "Of course," Pruitt answered. "That's covered. The person in question could not have been wearing a mask."

  "Wasn't wearing a mask?" Agnes said with a smile. "And how could you possibly know that Pruitt? You weren't there were you?" She chuckled at the idea.

  "If she, or he, had worn a mask," Pruitt answered. "Why run the risk of stealing the tape?"

  She nodded as if he'd made a point worth considering. She smiled, throwing every ounce of condescension she could muster into it. "I know it's a crazy thought," she answered, looking around the table. "But isn't it possible that young men who would gun down a crowd of innocent young people for what appears to be no reason might not be completely logical?" She turned to Pruitt. "Maybe the chief logician isn't the best person to predict how they'd behave." There. A chink in his armor. It flashed past like the subliminal message to buy more popcorn in between frames of an old movie, but she'd seen it. It meant he was human. She decided she'd seen it even if she hadn't.

  The other faces around the table followed the argument like a crowd at a tennis match and they'd stopped on her. Point Agnes. She could feel the sentiment shift from resignation that Pruitt was right again. Time to seize the momentum. She didn't have many serves left so this one better count. She nodded to Pruitt and let her eyes scan the rest of them.

  "This document," she gave the folder in front of her a dismissive tap with her fingernail. "Claims that going after that tape is the riskless approach."

  "The lowest risk approach," Pruitt corrected. He stared levelly at her with those blue eyes. "There is no riskless approach to time travel."

  "I think the risk you're forgetting is that there may not be anything on this tape that you can use. The men wore masks. The tape may've been stolen by an accomplice before they ever came in the building." She looked around the room. They clearly hadn't thought of that. "What then? Do the mission over?" She could tell from the collective wince around the table that wasn't a popular idea. She shook her head sadly. "I can see how this might seem a logical approach to someone who doesn't understand human nature but I believe it's actually quite high risk."

  The room was silent. Pruitt stood at the end of the table wondering where she was going. She hoped she knew.

  "Do you have an alternative to propose Agnes?" Warren asked. "If so I'm sure we'd all like to hear it." The nods around the table told her she was getting somewhere.

  "My proposal hasn't been written up. I'm afraid it's so sensitive that I didn't want to commit it to paper." That'd gotten their attention. Even Pruitt appeared curious. "There is new information," she went on. "Information that none of you could possibly have known about." She gave Pruitt a forgiving smile. "I apologize for letting you and your s
taff waste this excellent work."

  "It seems premature to call it wasted."

  "What new information?" Sturgell Bob got the words out a second before Griff could. They all leaned forward. Agnes imagined that Pruitt's hands were gripping the lectern, which gave her a shot of adrenaline. She stared at his face. She didn't want to miss his reaction.

  "I've had the surviving attacker brought here," she said. She didn't know what she'd expected, people jumping out of their chairs, shouting, banging the table. Instead she got absolute silence. She imagined that somewhere in the distance she could hear the hum of the nuclear reactor feeding power to the building. She knew that was her imagination, but the collective intake of breath followed by nothing wasn't.

  "When?" Warren asked. And you didn't tell your lawyer? Tsk. Tsk.

  "I had him brought here so that we can interview him." When is irrelevant.

  "And you didn't tell us?" Poole asked incredulously. He looked around the room. "How can we keep working here without basic trust? Dr. Ted..."

  "I've already pointed out to you that Dr. Ted isn't the director any longer. I am. And as for working here without basic trust," she looked around the room. "I've reviewed everyone's employment contract. No one is forced to work here a second longer than he wants to." She leaned back in her chair and they all stared blankly across the table for several seconds. No takers. What a surprise. "Alright." She placed both palms on the table. "I move that we don't make any decisions on this aspect of the mission until we've talked with the prisoner and gotten information to lower the risk."

  "And who," Pruitt's words crawled over her skin like centipedes. It took all her force of will not to shiver. "...will do that?"

  "So far he'll only talk to the policeman who arrested him. He's also staying here." She waved a hand before they could argue but the only one that seemed to bother was Griff for some reason, who scowled at her. What was that about? "He'll talk to the prisoner. We'll reconvene after that." And in the meantime she'd figure out how to get to him before the policeman without anyone finding out.

  "And if he doesn't learn anything useful?"

  "Then Pruitt..." she lifted the folder a couple of inches and dropped it on the table. "We can revisit your proposal." She looked around the room.

  "Whichever way we decide to run the mission," Lemberger said into the silence that'd settled over them, and she knew she had them, at least for now, "...we've got a lot to plan for. For instance we've got to make sure the team has identification." He looked around the room. "Back then people had plastic driver's licenses. Credit cards. Those things have to be valid if they're checked..."

  "This trip's also complicated because the historical mapping for the area and time in question isn't what we'd like," Kristen said and Agnes tried not to smile at the imagery of the smoking remains of Pruitt's proposal in her rearview mirror. It was way too early for self congratulations. "As a matter of fact, it's pretty poor. The margin of error in mapping back the earth's location is also barely inside the acceptable range. As you recall on Sole Source we were somewhat off."

  "Somewhat," Griff agreed. "I still can't stand up straight in the morning." That got a nervous laugh from around the table, like kick-starting an old motorcycle on a cold morning. They didn't like Pruitt but they expected him and Huang to keep them out of trouble. Agnes got the sense that she'd shown up at school and the teacher had disappeared. It was exhilarating but it was also a big, scary world outside the classroom window.

  "You remember this morning Agnes," Sturgell Bob explained. "The need to accurately place chrononauts in both time and place?"

  "I remember."

  "Well that includes accurate mapping back of the earth's orbit. The process has a sort of radar embedded to make adjustments and get them down safely, up to a point."

  "In terms of locating the team," Kristen said. "We prefer to work from GPS records. But we can also work from old maps when necessary, as in this case. We've located an area sufficiently undeveloped at that time to allow an acceptable margin of safety, but it's quite a distance from the destination."

  "How far?" Griff asked.

  "That's the issue," Kristen said with a nod. "They'll need to travel about fifty kilometers to get to the site. And there's not much out there where they'll be starting." She looked at Lemberger. "Buses are a possibility, but it would be better to provide them with transportation. It keeps more in our control," she explained to Agnes. "They need to get back to the return closed timeline curve at the right time or we could lose them."

  "Can we do that?" Agnes asked. Could the whole thing trip up on something so prosaic as not having a ride to the attack?

  "We can," Lemberger said slowly. "But it means driving lessons. We have two vehicles that are acceptable for use but only one has an automatic transmission. Most of the old style cars were crushed when the self-driving car laws were passed. The other one probably can't be mastered in a short amount of time. It's actually quite complicated."

  "It'd help," Griff said. "If the vehicle were specially equipped..."

  "The chrononauts can't carry any technology that isn't available at the destination time," Sturgell Bob said with a glance at Pruitt. "You know that." He turned to Agnes. "We've never really had to deal with it before because we don't normally go that far back but the protocols require only time-appropriate equipment. The intervention risk of introducing a technology from the future outweighs the danger to any particular chrononaut."

  "Sure," Griff said. "Unless you're the chrononaut." He glanced at Agnes, gauging how far she'd let the rebellion run.

  "Let's stay within current policy for now."

  "We'll get the vehicle ready," Lemberger said, trying to hide his excitement. "We'll need to have the bus options in case the vehicle is damaged." Kristen nodded. She didn't write it down, but why would she? If you vaporize all the materials after the meeting what's the point of pencils? She'd have to ask Pruitt about the logic of that one.

  "How about clothes?" Eileen asked.

  "I think we have everything we need there."

  "Can we get closer if we do what we did with Sole Source?" Griff asked.

  "What was that?" Agnes asked.

  "We had the same problem with that mission," Sturgell Bob explained. "And so we sent the team to the future and had them travel back from there, when the positioning tools were better." He turned back to Griff. "I'm afraid," he said slowly, chewing on the inside of his lip. "That may not be possible in this case."

  "Why not?"

  "Because the models say there's too much noise in future political outcomes." He took a deep breath. "There are model paths where End Game may be executed."

  "What's End Game?" Agnes asked the stunned silence. Even Pruitt looked shocked.

  "End Game," Warren answered. "Is a contingency plan in the time travel protocols. If the risk that time travel will be abused becomes too great..." his voice drifted off.

  "We destroy it," Griff said.

  "Destroy it? Destroy what?"

  "Everything," Griff said. His eyes drifted around. "Everything here anyway. The compound. All the records."

  "What good will that do if there are still people who..." Agnes stopped as it hit her in mid-sentence.

  "It's only to be used in the most extreme circumstances," Warren said hurriedly. "It's referenced in your employment agreement but too sensitive to actually include so I'm afraid we couldn't show it to you."

  So I signed my own death warrant, comforted by the fact that there was a footnote that would've explained what I was doing if I'd been cleared to read it at the time.

  "The models only show it in extreme outcomes with very low probability," Sturgell Bob said apologetically.

  "And that didn't happen with the other mission? Sole Source?"

  "Actually," Sturgell Bob said. "End Game is what drove Sole Source. Without Sole Source the models showed significant abuse of time travel along many paths."

 
; "The technology behind End Game is actually quite interesting," Dutch said. Did he ever stop smiling like that?

  "Then what about the future check?" Griff asked, ignoring Dutch. "If we can't go to the future how can we do one."

  "We can't."

  "Why can't we disable End Game?" Griff said.

  "Disable it?" Sturgell Bob asked.

  "Yes. So that it isn't in place in the future." He looked around the table.

  "I'm afraid that wouldn't work Griff," Dutch explained. "You see, the protocols under End Game are quite clear. End Game cannot be disabled."

  "Maybe we can change the protocols," Agnes suggested.

  "Oh Agnes," Dutch chuckled. "I couldn't allow that. Actually, I could, but that's an expression..."

  "You?" Pruitt asked. Agnes started. She'd almost forgotten he was there, following the conversation silently. He stared at Dutch incredulously. "...couldn't allow it?"

  "You know," Eileen cut in and Agnes thought she caught a flash of conspiracy between her and Griff. "This mission..."

  "Should we choose to accept it," Dutch said. Agnes frowned at him and he pointed a finger at her and flashed that smile that was starting to creep up her arm like a spider.

  "Why does he do that?" she mumbled to Warren, but he only stared at Dutch curiously.

  "The stakes are so high, if we're really going to do this," Eileen went on. "Monica and Sarah are by far the only team who'd have any chance of successfully carrying it out." She turned to Agnes, her fingers gripping the table as if she were holding it down. "This is complicated enough without leaving our best team behind."

  Sarah. The one with the baseball bat. What was it Warren'd said, that Agnes picked the team? She needed to get back and get into those personnel files. But first she just might kiss Eileen.

  "Successfully?" Pruitt said with an icy stare at Eileen. "And how do you define success Eileen? Because I define it as low deviation numbers. A lack of intervention. Is that how you'd describe..."

  "They were set up," Eileen said, still staring at Agnes. Poole's face reddened and his mouth opened but clamped back shut at a glare from Agnes. "They were sent into a situation without adequate preparation in the hope that Sarah would intervene when she was confronted with that girl being attacked."