by E W Barnes
“I assure you Agent Winters, all TPC policies have been closely adhered to in every off-the-record shift.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because there have been only three since the development of the temporal amplifier and the establishment of the Temporal Protection Corps. The director at the time documented each occurrence, for director’s eyes only. I have reviewed the documentation and each unrecorded shift was necessary, I promise you.”
“Like reading the book of secrets,” Sharon said. They both looked at her.
“You know, the secret book that only presidents in the U.S. can read and are sworn to never reveal.”
“Something like that,” Director Veta said.
“Have you ever ordered an off-the-record shift before, Director?” Caelen asked, his eyes glinting.
“No, I have not. This will be the first time. And I sincerely hope the only time.”
“What do you need us to do?” Sharon said, before Caelen could ask any more questions.
“As you know, something has happened to the timeline. I don’t know what,” Director Veta added as Sharon opened her mouth to ask. “But it must be corrected. The TPC is heading down a terrible road.”
“How were you not affected?” Caelen asked.
“I was affected,” she said with a small smile. Caelen sighed and dropped his head.
“What? What is it?” Sharon asked, her eyes shifting back and forth between them.
“You’re bootstrapping,” Caelen said. The director nodded.
“What’s bootstrapping?” Sharon asked. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach though she didn’t know why.
“It’s a causation paradox,” Caelen said. “And it violates TPC policy.”
“That tells me nothing,” Sharon said through clenched teeth. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she knew the stakes were too high for TPC techno-gibberish.
“It means that I went back in time to give Caelen the box with this holographic message about your mission, after you completed the mission and told me about it in the future.”
“How does that work? How can you tell us what to do the first time so that we could tell you what to tell us to do later ...?" Sharon’s head was swimming. This was worse than trying to imagine one’s memories changing. What the director was describing was impossible.
“Hence the paradox,” Director Veta said.
“What’s the mission?” Caelen said, more willing at the moment to accept the impossible than Sharon was.
“You need to implement Miranda’s plan.”
“What plan?”
“She will explain it to you.”
“The consequences would be severe if someone found out what we were doing,” Caelen said.
“Yes, you are right. I think that the TPC as it exists now would respond brutally if you are discovered. Certainly, you would be terminated from the TPC, at the very least. If you are discovered, I will do what I can to protect you. I suggest, however, that you endeavor to not be discovered.”
Sharon and Caelen exchanged glances.
“Is there any other option?” Caelen asked.
“None that I can see,” Director Veta answered.
“Then we need Miranda. And Jonas,” Sharon said.
“Yes, you do,” the director nodded solemnly.
“How do we make shifts off-the-record?” Caelen asked. His voice sounded odd, almost defeated.
“Use the program insert,” she said, pointing to the box on the table. As soon as they focused on it, the top popped open. Caelen reached in and pulled out what looked like a micro-drive.
“That contains a copy of the Director’s Prerogative protocol. Insert it into a temporal amplifier control panel and you can make five shifts off-the-record. Once you have completed five shifts, the program will erase, and the device cannot be used again.”
Caelen put the micro-drive in his pocket.
“Don’t lose it,” the Director added. “There is no other to give you.”
He patted his pocket. “I understand.”
“I also suggest that you do not use a temporal amplifier at TPC headquarters to complete the mission. Find one that is more private to use,” she said looking squarely at Sharon. Sharon met Caelen’s eyes, and they nodded in understanding.
“Good luck.”
◆◆◆
The image of Director Veta vanished. Like the hologram of her grandmother projected in Sharon’s living room so long ago, it was programmed to say its piece and then cease to function.
“Where do we start?” Sharon asked Caelen.
“We don’t,” he said getting up from the table and going into the kitchen. “At least, not until we’ve had that dinner I promised.”
The twinkle in his eyes was back. Sharon sighed in relief. She knew he was reluctant to embark on the mission, but she also knew that his sense of duty and loyalty to the director would win out. While he made the meal, she picked up the box from the table and placed it next to a stack of books in a bookcase that artfully divided the eating area from the living room.
Caelen was in the kitchen tapping buttons on what looked like an open microwave oven. There was a buzzing sound followed by delicious odors.
“You remembered my favorite,” Sharon said as she recognized the smell of garlic, melted cheese, and cooked pizza dough. They sat side-by-side at the table so they could both enjoy the view while they ate.
“Do you know where to find Jonas and Miranda?”
He swallowed and nodded.
“If Jonas is on leave, he probably went straight home. His apartment is nearby. We can get him after we finish eating. I’m not sure where to find Miranda. She may still be at the TPC.”
“What about the curfew? Doesn’t she have to go home, too?”
“There are temporary apartments at the TPC she could use to spend the night if she couldn’t get out before curfew. We can check there once we get Jonas.”
“And if she’s not at the TPC?”
Caelen shook his head. “We’ll figure it out.”
“You’re not a big fan of making things up as we go along, are you?” Sharon asked as she took a bite of pizza.
Caelen chuckled. “No, I’m not.”
“Should we let Jonas know we’re coming?”
“I don’t want to. Communications may be monitored. That’s why I didn’t want to talk about our shift to the 22nd century while we were at TPC headquarters or in the auto-car.”
“Will it be ok to show up at Jonas’ apartment unannounced?”
Caelen sighed. “We’re just going to have to chance it.” He swallowed the last of his water and pushed away from the table.
“Are you ready?”
“Now?”
“Yes. We have to get Jonas and back to TPC headquarters before curfew.”
“Right.”
“HASAA order an auto-car,” he said as he cleared the table.
“Auto-car ordered,” a tinny voice responded. “The forecast is for rain. Do you wish to engage rain deflection measures?”
“Yes,” Caelen answered.
“Warning: There are only 45 minutes until curfew,” the tinny voice said.
“Understood. Please proceed,” Caelen said. He put the remains of the pizza into a device which appeared to recycle the food. Outside the apartment, the platform extended, and an auto-car rose above the lip, stopping when it was precisely aligned to take on passengers.
Caelen opened the large sliding windows over the platform and Sharon followed cautiously behind. Rain had begun to fall but an invisible force kept them dry.
Caelen leaned in the open door of the auto-car and then pulled back. There was a dark silhouette against the far window.
"What is it?" Sharon whispered.
"Someone’s in the car," he whispered back.
A flash of memory: A dark figure standing in shadow in her dining room. A shiver rippled through her. She grabbed Caelen's arm, her heart thudding. She’d never felt wary
of strangers in 2204 the way she was in her own time—until now. She edged to the center of the platform. If someone attacked them here, it was a long way to the ground.
“Are you two going to get in or what?"
Sharon exhaled and released her hold on Caelen's arm. It was Miranda's voice.
"You two look like you've seen a ghost," Miranda said as they climbed in.
"We weren't expecting anyone to be in the car," Caelen explained.
"What are you doing here?" Sharon said, a little more harshly than she intended as her fear ebbed away.
"You're on your way to visit Jonas, yes? I was… invited to join you," she said in her usual calm tone. Like Caelen, she did not expect privacy in the auto-car.
Caelen programmed the route to Jonas’ apartment. This time the auto-car did not drop back down to the ground but remained hovering in the air, rain pattering on its roof, as it moved away from Caelen's apartment.
It glided toward another group of buildings, weaving among the rooftops until it came to a halt. Sharon expected to see another platform emerge, but the car began to descend instead. Once it reached about mid-way down the building, she saw the platform it was aiming for.
It was similar to the entrance to Caelen’s apartment. There was a broad bank of windows, but the curtains were closed, and it looked decidedly uninviting. When the auto-car door opened, Caelen climbed out first, putting up his hand to stop them from following him.
“Stay here,” he said.
He rapped on the wet glass. A curtain twitched back to reveal the pale and frightened face of Jonas. He opened the door partway and there was a conversation between them that Sharon and Miranda could not hear. Caelen came back to the auto-car.
“He, uh, needs a few moments to tidy up,” he said. Miranda programmed the auto-car to remain at the platform and they waited, watching the rain fall just feet away from them.
“How do the rain deflection measures work?” Sharon asked to fill the creepy silence.
“It’s a kind of force field,” Caelen answered distractedly. “It extends from the auto car or from buildings, wherever we need it.”
“Like an umbrella,” Sharon said.
“Yes,” Miranda said. “Some people carry portable units which activate automatically.”
“So, you’ve never been caught in the rain,” Sharon said mischievously, remembering a rainy day in New York City in 1980 in another timeline.
“No,” Caelen said.
“Too bad,” Sharon said, shaking her head.
It was 10 minutes before Jonas pulled the curtains back and opened the door.
“Please come in,” he said shaking each of their hands.
Jonas’ apartment was similar in layout to Caelen’s, but it was clear he kept the curtains closed most of the time. There were many more lights throughout the space and most of them were turned on. Books and papers were stacked on the floor, some looking as though they had been recently moved off the seating area to make room for his guests.
Sharon picked up one and read the spine.
“20th Century Predictions of the Future: The Good, the Bad, and the Wacky, by Jonas Fernley,” she read out loud. “You wrote this?”
"Oh, yeah. That was a long time ago," Jonas said, taking the book from her and hiding it behind his back.
"Can I get you anything?" he said to her and then looking at Miranda and Caelen. Miranda shook her head and sat down in a chair next to the windows.
“Oh, yes, please sit down, make yourselves comfortable.” He took a few steps back and stumbled on a stack of books, knocking over a lamp on a table. Muttering apologies, he set the lamp upright. After placing the book he wrote on top of an overstuffed shelf, he sat on the sofa next to Caelen.
“So, uh, what brings you here?” Jonas asked, sounding like someone who did not really want to hear the answer.
“We’re here to talk about a mission,” Miranda said.
“What mission? I thought I was on leave and only critical operations were going forward at the TPC.”
“This is a critical mission,” Sharon said leaning toward him. She had a feeling they would need to use a lot of persuasion.
“Why would you need me for a critical mission?” Jonas asked, his eyes growing wide. “You don’t need a 20th century expert. Twenty-first, yes,” he said pointing at Caelen. “If we are facing an Alexander Event, then you would need an expert on that time frame. But I don’t see how I can help.”
“We need your expertise,” Sharon said.
“For what?”
“We’re not sure. Not yet,” Miranda answered.
Jonas shrank back.
“You’re going to go back in time to change something and you don’t know what. No. No, no, no,” he said shaking his head vigorously, rising as if he would ask them to leave.
“The mission has been sanctioned by Director Veta,” Caelen said calmly. Jonas stopped in his tracks.
“The director?” he asked, his voice rising. For a moment Sharon thought they had convinced him.
“I've been told by the director that we have the data we need and to do what we need to do,” Miranda said.
“Why are you here telling me this? Why didn’t the director meet with all of us to assign this mission?”
“Because the mission must be completed in secret,” Miranda said.
“Secret? Secret from whom?”
“Everyone except us and the director,” Caelen answered.
“You mean no one else at the TPC knows about this mission?”
Jonas opened his mouth and then closed it again when no one answered.
“There’s no way we could do it without being caught,” he said hoarsely.
“It will be off-the-record,” Sharon said.
“What do you mean?” Jonas looked even more alarmed than before. Caelen pulled the Director’s Prerogative device from his pocket.
“This will keep our shifts off-the-record.”
“What’s that?” Jonas asked but Sharon cut in.
“We’ll be happy to tell you everything once you've agreed to join us. Are you in or not?”
Jonas opened and closed his mouth several times looking at each of them with indignance and fear etched on his face. Then he sighed and his shoulders slumped.
“Ok,” he muttered almost inaudibly.
“What was that? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Miranda said.
He looked around the room, unwilling to leave his place of safety. Then he looked at Sharon and held her eyes in his.
“I said I’m in.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Time was running out. They had to get back to TPC Headquarters before curfew began. Jonas insisted on packing several books and items he said could be “critical” to the mission. It was 20 minutes before he was ready, dragging a heavy pack behind him, leaving them less than 15 minutes.
While Jonas gathered his books, Caelen and Miranda discussed their next steps.
“I think we’ll make it back to the main building before curfew,” Caelen said. “But which temporal amplifier should we use? A training room unit, or one of the agent units?”
“I think we should use an agent unit,” Miranda answered. “Four of us heading into a training room after hours would raise questions. We’re less likely to be challenged if we appear to be on a mission.”
The rain had stopped. The wind was chilly with cold fingers creeping through gaps in their clothes as they scurried out onto the platform. Caelen picked up Jonas’ pack for him while Jonas locked his apartment. Then, taking a deep breath, Jonas followed the others into the waiting auto-car.
The ride back to the transportation center was quiet, punctuated with “hush” and “not now” as Jonas tried to get more information to ease his anxiety.
As they arrived Caelen goaded them to hurry - they had only minutes left. Sharon saw the word “CERN” emblazoned on the outside of the building, but there was no time to marvel that the renowned research facility still existed in t
his century. If they did not access a temporal amplifier before curfew, they would not get another chance and the mission would fail before it even began.
A different guard sat at the desk in front of the elevators. He looked bored. Focused on a small screen, he barely glanced at Caelen, Miranda, and Sharon as they identified themselves and were scanned.
The computer screen trilled a long beep when Jonas scanned his iris, however, and the guard stood up. He was no longer bored. He took the computer tablet and read the flashing message, one hand resting next to a large button on the desk.
“It says here you’re supposed to be on leave Agent… Fernley,” the guard said as he looked up at Jonas, who was pale and sweating.
“I, uh…” Jonas stammered. Another guard came around a corner, his stance alert and watching.
“I think you will find that Director Veta added an override to Agent Fernley’s status,” Miranda said.
The desk guard tapped the tablet and his face relaxed. He waved a hand at the second guard who had come around the corner, and he and a third guard who had appeared by the double doors, nodded and walked away.
“Yeah, here it is.” He set the computer tablet down. “You’re all set. Go ahead,” he said as he sat again, the small screen back in his hand.
Caelen was already at the elevator bank and doors were opening as Jonas followed them in, puffing and dragging his pack. Caelen pushed the lower button as the doors closed.
Once again alone, this time they did not have to shush Jonas. The encounter with the security guard had frightened him into silence. As the elevator descended, they watched the layers of rock and workspaces glide by, lost in their own thoughts.
The elevator doors opened. It was dark and they hesitated before stepping out into the dim gray light. The gloom was oppressive. Sharon bowed her head. She’d never been reluctant to enter TPC headquarters before and it depressed her that she did not want to be here now. But as the dark feeling grew another feeling flared within her.
“Come on,” she whispered, stepping into the corridor.
“The sooner we get this done, the sooner everything will be right again.”
Without looking back, Sharon led the way to the hall which housed the temporal amplifiers used by TPC agents. The atrium was empty and dimmer than before. The security guards were gone. There was no movement down any of the corridors.