by Edward Gates
He quietly retrieved the canvas bag with the time belt and snuck over to the deserted second barracks. He went inside, strapped on the time belt and set the time for five years in the future. Before he initiated the belt, he thought about the ripple his jump would cause in the dimensional matrix; the time-agents would undoubtedly be able to trace him. Was this time jump really worth letting them know his location?
“The hell with it. I have to find out.” He would deal with the agents if and when they showed up. Within a few minutes a bright blue-green light flashed from inside the vacant building.
When Charlie woke up, it was daylight and he was in the same deserted barracks. However, the building was in a terrible state of disrepair. Doors and windows were missing or broken. Parts of the roof had collapsed. Dirt and debris were everywhere, showing signs of a neglected building over time. Charlie buttoned his coat over the time belt and walked outside. The fort appeared deserted and apparently had been for a number of years. The parade ground was overgrown and many of the adobe-style buildings were literally crumbling. He began walking along the road toward the town of Larned.
It was now eighteen-sixty-seven. The Civil War had been over for two years. He remembered his father telling him stories about the failure of the so-called Reconstruction. For years after the war, the South was economically penalized by the Northern autocrats who took advantage of the spoils of war.
Larned was the county seat for the newly created Pawnee County in central Kansas. It was also home to all the records of west Kansas regarding marriages, births, census information and, more importantly, deaths.
After a long conversation with the county clerk, Charlie got a chance to view the death records from eighteen-sixty-two. There were no records for Walter Holmes. He either survived the gunshot on his own, or the change to Walter’s timeline also changed the written records. He checked records for Ed, Dave, Jesse, even himself. Apparently, they all survived their trek through Kansas. Now satisfied with the knowledge that none of the team died in Kansas in eighteen-sixty-two, it was on to Little Rock.
In an open field, where no one was around, Charlie turned on the time belt, punched in some new coordinates, and closed his eyes. In a flash of blue-green light he was gone. When he opened his eyes he was in a wooded field early in the morning just outside of Little Rock, Arkansas. It was the capital of Arkansas and held all pertinent records for the state. In the dawn’s light, Charlie made his way to the city hall to meet with the clerk.
The death records in the state of Arkansas showed that Walter Holmes died in his home outside of Fort Smith in 1865. No records for Ed Bass, Jesse Williams or Dave Rudebaugh. There were also no records for Charlie Turlock or Max Weatherby. Charlie let out a sigh of relief.
But was this really an answer? Again he wondered, Is this the original record and Walter really did survive the gunshot without my assistance? Or was this record the result of a changed timeline? He finally accepted the fact that he would never know for sure.
Charlie left the city and walked back to the wooded fields where he had arrived. Making sure he was alone, he powered up the time belt and entered the coordinates for Fort Larned in 1862. In a flash he was gone from 1867.
When Charlie regained consciousness, he was back in the vacant barracks in the middle of the night. The doors, windows and roof were all intact. He removed the time belt, replaced it in the canvas bag, and walked back to his barracks. He quietly crawled into bed. Staring at the ceiling, his mind raced with different possibilities and paradoxes of changing history and its written records. He finally resigned himself to the fact that he had involved himself with Walter’s care, which likely saved his life, and that it was over and done. It wasn’t going to change. The world would just have to live with Walter surviving the gunshot. The next time, he would try to check records before he got involved, not after. Eventually Charlie dozed off, resigning himself to the fact that he had done all that he could do and should not worry about it anymore.
In a wooded field outside Little Rock, Arkansas, there was a flash of blue-green light and a loud electric snap. Two figures in black synthetic-fabric slacks and black long-sleeved pullover shirts stood in the wooded field. Each had short black hair and a pasty white complexion, and each wore a vest made of a metallic material that appeared golden but shimmered in various colors as they moved. A small warp in the dimensional matrix had brought them to this spot in 1867. They stood for a moment in the late-morning sun and then began walking toward the town of Little Rock.
31
Back on the Road
On the morning of the third day, Jesse stayed with Walter and helped him get dressed. Walter sat on the edge of his bed and grunted as he struggled to get his right arm into a new shirt. The doctor told him he could travel, but to take it easy.
Charlie packed his freshly laundered clothes in his valise and rolled up his bedroll. Then he joined Dave and Ed, who were in the commissary replenishing the supplies needed to continue the trip to Denver. Dave ordered the standard fare of coffee, flour, salt, sugar and bacon. Then they added some extras like candy sticks, jerky, local produce of beans, potatoes, dried fruit, cornmeal and dried corn, plus a few other items.
While Dave placed his order, Charlie looked around the store at the variety of goods. With a pocket full of money he was confident he could now afford most of these things. He focused on a pair of boots displayed in the window. Clemens’s old work boots kept his feet warm and dry, but they didn’t fit all that well. Charlie held the new boots up and admired the leather and craftsmanship.
“How much for the boots?” He asked the clerk.
“No. Not those. Those ain’t for sale. They’re just on display for a fella in town that makes them boots. He can git ya a pair made in just three days.”
Charlie set the boots back down. “I don’t have that much time.”
“We’ll get you a pair in Denver City,” Dave said. “You’ll have plenty of time there. Give us a hand with these bundles.”
Charlie picked out a new shirt and a small journal and paid the clerk. Then he helped carry the supplies to the wagons. They packed the supplies, loaded in their personal gear, refilled the water barrels, and repositioned and secured the cargo.
It was midmorning when they hitched the oxen teams to the wagons. Walter was helped into his wagon on the seat alongside Ed. Charlie tethered the five horses to the two wagons and then climbed into the first wagon. Jesse, in the second wagon, checked his rifle and ammunition. As they were getting ready to leave, the militia commander approached Dave.
“Where you heading, Mr. Rudabaugh?”
“We’re taking this mining equipment to Denver City.”
“How you gonna go?”
“I plan on heading north to the Atchison and then follow the railroad west. Why you askin’?”
The commander looked around at the rest of the team and then back at Dave. “A couple of settlers showed up here yesterday. They said they were run off by a raiding party of Cheyenne. I just wanted to let you know, you might be heading into trouble. You might be all right taking that northern route but, just the same, you best keep a good lookout.”
“I appreciate the warning. Thanks.” Dave shook the commander’s hand and then climbed into the seat next to Charlie. “Did ya hear?”
“Yeah. Indians attacked some settlers.”
“You just might meet some of those renegades we talked about.” Dave winked at Charlie and looked over at Ed and Walter. With their wave, Dave slapped the reins and cracked his bullwhip and the wagons lurched forward and headed out the front gate, westward toward Denver.
Charlie trembled. Along with the possibility that he may have triggered a visit from the time-agents, he now worried about encountering an Indian raiding party. Firing his pistol at four men trapped between two ridges was nothing compared to fighting skilled Indian warriors on horseback moving quickly and shooting back.
With the late start and the winter days getting shorter, it was
n’t long before the sun set and they had to pitch camp for the night. Ed and Jesse split the shift watching the animals and standing guard. Charlie was exhausted but could only sleep a little at a time. He couldn’t suppress his fear of an Indian attack.
Charlie woke before the sun and began fixing coffee, unable to shake the feeling that some confrontation was looming in the very near future. During the past month he had studied Dave and Jesse cooking meals. He figured he could take his turn fixing food. He mixed up biscuits according to what he had witnessed and dropped them in the Dutch oven to bake. He was about to start slicing bacon when Jesse appeared behind him.
“Boy, you make enough noise to wake the dead.” Jesse looked over at what Charlie had done and nodded approvingly. After a while the rest of the team woke and they all drank coffee and ate biscuits and bacon. It was the first meal Charlie had ever cooked… in any time era.
A flash of blue-green light illuminated the inside room of the vacant second barracks building at Fort Larned. A militia guard saw the flash and summoned the commander. The commander and the guard approached the barracks just as the two time-agents emerged onto the parade grounds. The two parties stopped and stared at each other for a moment. The commander was amazed by the strangers’ odd attire.
“You two are trespassing on military property. Who are you and what are you doing here?” he barked.
“We are looking for a fugitive by the name of Archibald Campbell. He may be using the alias Charlie Turlock.” The time-agent went on to describe Charlie’s physical appearance.
The commander knew right away who they were referring to but was reluctant to divulge what he knew. “What do you want this fella for?”
“He is wanted for questioning in the death of a traveler. And for violation of a number of time statutes including 23-1015, 22-754, and 22-641. Do you know where he is?”
“Time statutes? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Do you know his whereabouts?” the time-agent repeated.
The commander paused, not liking their direct question. “You boys work for the government?”
“We are agents for the transportation agency of the government. Have you seen Archibald Campbell?” they demanded.
“Whose government?” the commander shot back.
The two didn’t answer. They just stared at the commander, who stared back at them. “That’s what I thought. You better get out of here before I throw you in the brig.”
The agents turned their attention to the guard. “Have you seen Archibald Campbell?”
“He ain’t seen nothin’. What I can tell you is, that fella you’re looking for may have left here a day or so ago. He was riding guard for a freighter outfit.”
“Where are they going?”
The commander stepped in closer to them. “I don’t know where they were going. They picked up supplies and left. You’ll have to find out where they’re going on your own. Now get out of my fort or I’ll have you arrested.”
The time-agents stood still for a moment, staring at the commander. Then in unison they walked out the front gate and turned away from view. The commander and the guard watched them leave.
“Those were two of the strangest fellas I ever seen,” the guard mused.
“I’ll say.” The commander turned and was walking back to his office when he heard a loud snap outside the walls of the fort. He stopped and turned back to look around. He looked at the guard, who just stared back at him and shook his head.
“Well, go and see what that was!”
“Yes, sir!” The guard ran outside the gate and looked all around the exterior wall. He found nothing. The time-agents were gone.
32
Time Encounter
As they slowly rode along, Charlie kept his rifle in hand and checked it to make sure it was loaded. A box of cartridges sat on the seat next to him. The leather hammer strap was off his pistol making it easier to get to. He nervously scanned the horizon in all directions for anything out of the ordinary.
“You know, Charlie, one good thing about Kansas is it’s flat. Doesn’t put any strain on the animals. Don’t you think so? Plus, there’s lots of range grass and water for them. I think they like it here, don’t you?”
Charlie stared at Dave for a moment, thinking that his last remark was a little strange. Then he smiled. “You’re trying to get me to relax, aren’t you?”
“You’ve been jumpy since we left the fort, Charlie. Believe me, if the Indians attack out here in the open you’ll have plenty of warning. That’s when you can start to worry. Right now, just relax some. When you’re all tensed up like you are, you make mistakes. Can’t think clearly.”
Charlie nodded. After a brief silence he looked at Dave. “Yeah. I think the animals like it here.” They both chuckled.
Dave was right, as usual. He needed to relax until trouble started … if trouble started at all. Charlie checked his rifle again, as he’d done countless times since they’d been on the road.
“Is there a cartridge in the breech?” Dave asked.
“Yep. Sure is.”
“Then set it down and leave it alone. You’ve checked that thing ‘bout a hundred times so far.”
Charlie nodded. “Yeah. I guess I’m a little nervous.”
For the next three days the wagons rolled along the route laid out for the construction of the railroad. The trip so far had been without incident and there was no sign of Indians. With Dave’s small talk, Charlie relaxed. His fear never left him, he just learned to control it. At night he even began to sleep a little better without waking in terror.
In the middle of the third night, Jesse was on guard duty and it was time for his shift change. He returned to the campsite, added a few logs to the fire and woke Ed to take over.
Charlie was awoken by their movement. Before he could go back to sleep, there was a flash of light way off in the distance followed by a loud snap. The noise startled Walter and Dave from their sleep. Now everyone was awake.
“We expecting weather?” Walter asked.
“Could have been lightnin’, I guess,” Jesse said. “But I never seen lightnin’ look like that. Whatever it was, it hit way off in the prairie.” He looked up at the clear night sky with shimmering stars all around. “No clouds about.”
Charlie kept quiet. He knew exactly what it was. He wondered how they had found him three days out from the fort; he hadn’t even turned on the time belt since leaving the fort. They were all quiet, waiting for any more thunder or lightning strikes. After a few minutes of staring off into the black prairie night, Jesse announced that he was tired and going to bed.
“Well, if it was only that one, must not be anything to worry about,” Dave said. He lay back down on his bedroll. Walter never got up; he just rolled over and went back to sleep.
“Why don’t you go back to bed, Ed,” Charlie said. “I’m wide awake now. I’ll take this watch.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t mind. You can take one of my shifts down the road.”
“Okay, then. As long as you don’t mind.” Ed crawled back into his bedroll.
Charlie strapped on his holster and walked off into the dark to see about the animals and wait for the time-agents to appear. It was pitch dark in the moonless night, but he knew the androids could see perfectly well in the dark. There would be no hiding from them. He walked past the animals and as far away from the camp as he dared, keeping the campfire in sight. He pulled his gun from the holster and waited.
After a few minutes, he spotted two figures approaching. Their gold vests stood out and practically glowed in the dark. Charlie walked out to meet them. He held up his pistol and cocked the hammer before they could speak.
“I’m Archie Campbell,” he said softly. “I would appreciate it if you spoke in a quiet tone so as not to wake the other men.”
After a brief pause, one agent spoke in a low volume. “Archibald Campbell. You are to be taken into custody and returned to 2
275 to be questioned about the death of traveler Michael O’Donnell on August ninth of that same year. You are also to be held pending an investigation of your violation of various time statutes.”
“How did you find me? I know you followed the ripple in the matrix to Fort Larned. But how did you find me out here?”
“The tracks in the soil indicated two heavy wagons pulled by oxen. They appeared to be heading northwest. An occupant of Fort Larned mentioned you would be on one of those wagons. We plotted all possible northwest routes from the fort. We calculated your approximate distance from the fort based on travel data available regarding ox teams and established all possible points. You were here at the fourteenth point we visited.”
“Fourteen. That’s impressive. You androids sure are smart. Too bad you can’t stay.” Charlie pulled the trigger and fired a shot into the head of the first agent. His head erupted into a shower of sparks before he collapsed to the ground. The second agent raised his hand and a small silver horseshoe-shaped object slipped into his hand from his sleeve. He never got a chance to use it. Charlie fired a second shot into the chest of the second agent, who also fell to the ground. Within a second or two they both disappeared in a blue flash.
“Charlie! Charlie! Where are you?” Dave hollered.
“Charlie! Answer us. You all right?” Ed chimed in.
“I’m fine. I’m fine. I thought I saw a cat slinking around. I fired a couple of shots to scare it off.” Charlie walked back past the animals and joined Dave and Ed by the camp.
Dave shook his head. “Scared the hell out of us, damn you!”
“Sorry. Next time I’ll ask the cat to wait while I run back here and gently wake you to let you know I’m going to shoot it. God forbid I scare you out of your sleep.”