She shrugged. “We meet now for the first time. Or the second. I don’t know, it’s too confusing.” She looked up, her lined face still beautiful. “I am Vitoria Alvares. I am your wife. Or, will be.”
27 Stealth
Somewhere below, a door opened in the stairwell. The light flickered and then went out, plunging Daniel, Vitoria and Jacquelyn into darkness.
Vitoria pushed a finger to Daniel’s lips. They waited side by side in silence. The door below closed, and the stairwell was quiet once more.
“Our signal,” Vitoria whispered. “Follow me.”
Daniel could just make out the edges of the railing. It was enough. They crept down concrete steps, single file. Three floors down, they passed a sign too dark to read.
Vitoria pushed open a door. “Come, quickly.”
It led outside to a walkway lined with shrubs. In the distance was a quiet side street where a streetlight illuminated parked cars and a deserted sidewalk. Vitoria waved them through a gap in the bushes and across grass landscaping. She ducked around the side of the building and paused in the shadows while Daniel and Jacquelyn caught up.
Vitoria scanned them both. “We had planned for a taxi at the main entrance to take you to Jacquelyn’s apartment. That’s not possible now. My car is on the other side of the park, about five blocks.” Vitoria motioned to Jacquelyn’s tight gown and high-heeled shoes. “Can you make it that far?”
Jacquelyn hiked up the dress and slipped both shoes off. “Sure, but maybe I should just go home?”
“No,” Vitoria answered. “You’re probably compromised.” She paused in thought. “We’ll get to a safe house and regroup there. Follow me.”
Daniel held out an arm, and Jacquelyn took it, tiptoeing barefoot across the street. They followed an alley, keeping to the shadows where possible. Vitoria explained as they went. It wouldn’t be long before Committee Security figured out that Daniel was gone. They’d synchronize with Atlanta Police and determine his olinwun’s last known location. That would lead them to the punch bowl, and from there, they’d call in the enforcers.
Daniel eyed his barefoot companion, who had wrapped both arms around his, an anxious expression on her face. Her explicit proposition still confused him. “If they’re coming after us for leaving the party, how is it that you and I could have walked out the front door without being stopped?”
Jacquelyn’s eyes darted. “It’s complicated. I’ll tell you later.” She leaned her weight on his arm as she stepped on something sharp.
“Sorry, I just don’t see…”
Vitoria turned her head, glaring at Daniel. “She said she’d tell you later. Start listening to her, it will do you good.”
Daniel avoided any response. Vitoria was leading this escape, and she didn’t seem ready to accommodate questions. He accepted that he was up against forces he didn’t understand and was willing to abide by Vitoria’s rules for now. But once the immediate danger had passed, he’d need some answers.
They crossed a well-lit street with a few cars passing and reached the edge of a city park on the other side. Daniel thought he recognized it as Centennial Park, but he didn’t know Atlanta well. A large sculpture filled the center of a small circular amphitheater.
They were exposed here, and Jacquelyn’s head pivoted in every direction, searching for danger, whether real or imagined. Her sparkling dress wasn’t helping much in their attempt at stealth. She looked out of her element. Frightened, though it wasn’t clear exactly what she feared might happen.
The walking was easier in the park, with soft grass for Jacquelyn’s bare feet. Vitoria veered from the lighted area and into the shadows among a stand of trees where they intersected a dirt trail.
“Safer now,” Vitoria announced. “No one uses this trail at night.”
Daniel could sense the relief. Perhaps Vitoria would respond if his questions started with something simple. “You’re Brazilian, aren’t you?” He’d finally placed the accent.
“Originally,” she said. “But I moved to Washington many years ago, working at the Brazilian embassy. It’s where we met, my Daniel and I.” She dropped back a step and walked alongside Daniel. “I’m sorry to have called you my husband earlier. I know you are not. My husband is in prison.”
Daniel pulled Vitoria to a stop. “Wait. He’s still in prison? My older self?”
“We think so. Did they tell you he was dead?”
“Yeah, of a brain tumor. Last April.”
She nodded. “Another lie. It’s the story they want the public to hear. But one of our informants saw him just last week in his prison cell.”
The information was coming fast now. Real information, from an authentic source. The tears welling up in this woman’s eyes were genuine. Daniel hooked his free arm with Vitoria’s, and the three proceeded side by side with their walk.
“How long?” he asked delicately.
“More than three years now,” she said. Her face was now shadowed, but her voice betrayed the grief.
“I’m sorry for him and for you,” Daniel said, adhering to Vitoria’s conviction that the two Daniels were different people. It was really the only way to make sense of this world. “How did it happen?”
“As it always does these days. They pass a law designed to subdue their opponents. Daniel was convicted of scientific intolerance.”
“That one’s new to me.”
“It’s new to us, too,” she said. “Years ago, blasphemy laws were dismantled in every country of the world. But since the Committee took control, those wretched laws are back. At least, in America.”
“And scientific intolerance is their euphemism for blasphemy?”
She was silent for a moment, perhaps deciding how to explain, perhaps deciding whether to explain at all. “It’s very different now than it was thirty years ago. Doubting their god or pointing out flaws in their holy text is a crime. Science routinely does both, though usually indirectly. America has changed. I hardly recognize it.” She patted his arm. “I’ll tell you more when we get to our destination.”
Daniel started to ask another question, but a tug from Jacquelyn cut him off. “She said she’ll tell you later.” The same admonishment, but at least Jacquelyn was smiling.
Women working as a team are impossible to defeat. Daniel acquiesced. “Okay, later.”
They came to an opening in the trees where the trail ended at another street, this one well-lit. Vitoria looked both ways. Near one end, a man leaned against a car smoking a cigarette. She grimaced.
“Do you think?” Jacquelyn asked.
“Not sure,” Vitoria answered. “My car is parked over there. Stay here. I’ll go alone and pull up to this curb. Climb in quickly. If he follows, I can lose him.”
Vitoria hurried across the street, her head down. The man continued his smoke as she climbed into a car not far from him. The car lights came on, and she made a quick U-turn, pulling up to the curb where Daniel and Jacquelyn waited. They piled into the small car, Jacquelyn in back, Daniel in front.
Vitoria sped away, making a sharp left turn on the next street. She studied the rearview mirror.
Jacquelyn faced the back window. “I don’t see anyone following. No, wait… there is a car.”
Daniel turned around too. A set of headlights loitered a few hundred yards behind.
“Hang on,” Vitoria said, jamming the pedal to the floor. The electric engine screamed with more than enough power to push them into their seats. She swerved up an onramp that led to an elevated roadway and accelerated to an obscene speed. Just as quickly, she dropped down the next offramp only a few hundred yards further. The car plunged to the city street below and she made a hard right turn, sending everyone lurching to the left. Two more quick turns and she slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a stop against a curb. She shut off the lights.
“Heads down!” she yelled.
They crouched and waited in silence. The surrounding buildings were old, possibly warehouses or abandoned properties.
For several minutes, no cars approached or passed. The only sounds were small creaks from the cooling engine.
Vitoria lifted her head and looked around. “If they’d placed a tracking device on the car, they would have found us by now. I think we’re safe.” She started the car and pulled away. Jacquelyn resumed her position as lookout, surveying the scene out the back window.
Daniel fastened his seat belt, not having had a chance to do it until now. “Routine driving around here?”
Vitoria looked over and smiled. “Only when we have a guest in town.”
“Well, you’re very good at it. If this is a self-driving car, that’s a hell of an override switch.”
“I have no use for such technology.” Her grin broadened. “I prefer naked in all things.”
Daniel leered at the much older woman. “An expression?”
She laughed. “Don’t worry, young man, only an expression.”
“No, I didn’t mean it—”
“Of course you did. You see an old woman. I understand.” She drew a deep breath. “You are Daniel, but I am not your wife. Don’t worry, there is no fate, nothing forcing your future. You are free to choose whomever you wish.” She shrugged. “Assuming we can get you back to your time.”
It was one of the many questions burning in his mind. If the Committee had lied about their role and about Daniel’s death, what else had they lied about? For that matter, what had they done with Becton’s belt? Getting home had just gotten a lot harder.
“Yeah, I was afraid you might say something like that.”
They drove for another thirty minutes, down large boulevards and zigzagging through unfamiliar neighborhoods. Jacquelyn huddled in the backseat in her sparkling party dress, looking like a captured bird too beautiful to be in a cage.
I put her in this position. Compromised her cover.
Vitoria had said as much. Daniel’s slow response was the only reason Jacquelyn wasn’t safely back in her home, ready for whatever her next assignment might be. The thought made him ill. He was witnessing firsthand the damages that could be caused by meddling with a timeline. None of this should be happening. He could have locked himself in a room until the adjustments to the belt were completed.
Unless those adjustments are a lie too.
Eventually Vitoria pulled onto a tree-lined road with a cow pasture on one side. The pavement ended, and she followed a gravel driveway to a large two-story house surrounded by forest. Light shone from behind curtains in the front windows.
Daniel stepped out of the car to the sounds of chirping crickets and gravel crunching beneath his feet.
“I’ve heard about these places, but I’ve never been to one,” Jacquelyn said, joining him.
Daniel held her hand as she tiptoed across the gravel. “I gather you’re new at this cloak-and-dagger stuff?”
“You saw where I work,” she answered. “Really, I’m a receptionist at Committee Security. But when Vitoria contacted me a few months ago, I didn’t hesitate.”
“For your friend with the broken arm?”
She nodded. “For her. And others. Me too. I’m tired of this bullshit.”
“You got dragged in deeper than you expected. I should have gone with you when you’d asked.”
Jacquelyn snickered. “Yes, you should have. We’d be in bed right now fucking ourselves silly.”
Daniel paused, staring intently and catching a few glances of her large green eyes. There was no reason to perpetuate the sexual ruse. She’d flirted only to get him out of the ballroom.
“What?” she said, a smile breaking across her face. “You know, Daniel, not everything is a lie.”
Huh. Maybe not a ruse.
There was something very odd going on with this woman. Either that, or he still didn’t understand the female gender after forty-four years. Daniel just shook his head in wonder.
28 Refuge
Vitoria introduced Daniel and Jacquelyn to the safe house operator, Aiden, who showed them in and locked the door behind. He was young, probably late twenties, and skinny, with uncombed wavy hair and stubble across his face. A noticeable gap between his front teeth lent character to his otherwise youthful appearance.
Aiden offered water and a bathroom if they needed it. He even offered a change of clothes.
“That would be wonderful.” Jacquelyn twisted in her tight gown. “Party’s over, time to climb out of this thing.” She tossed her shoes to a corner and unpinned the yellow flower from her dress. Aiden motioned to a hallway, and Jacquelyn followed him.
Vitoria sat in a chair by a fireplace, and Daniel strolled around the living room, checking out the books on a shelf. “A safe house would imply that the resistance is significant, even if you don’t have the upper hand.”
“We do our best. I think we are gaining. Just look at who we captured tonight.” She gestured with an open hand toward Daniel, smiling at her victory.
“Glad I could help.” He waved to the kitchen. “Aiden is one of many?”
“He’s a hub coordinator,” Vitoria explained, “but a special case since he’s physically near the Golden Spire. Of course, the Committee would love to identify this house, so do your best to erase the location from your mind when you leave.”
“The secret is safe with me. I really have no idea how you got here.”
“Good. I did try.”
Aiden returned with bottles of water and a bowl of pretzels. Daniel reached for a handful. “Thanks for the hospitality, Aiden, though I really don’t know why I’m here.”
Vitoria turned to Aiden. “I’m afraid our younger Daniel will need to learn from scratch.”
“I can help with that,” Aiden said. “I’ve been on the inside, and I know the history pretty well, too.”
Jacquelyn returned, now wearing a t-shirt and cutoff shorts. The oversized shirt, emblazoned with a cowboy hat and the words Hillbilly Pride, was tied into a knot at the waist. With her long legs and midriff exposed, Daniel caught himself staring. Jacquelyn took a seat on the couch next to Daniel.
Vitoria, once she’d regained Daniel’s attention, picked up the conversation. “Aiden used to work in Committee Information Systems. It’s their privacy invasion network that ties into every olinwun in the country. His departure from that group was rather sudden.”
“I was banging the director’s daughter.” Aiden grinned, the gap in his teeth the defining element of his smile.
Vitoria rolled her eyes. “But his quick exit provided cover. With the young lady’s help, he literally walked out the door with an olinwun loaded with the access codes for their entire historical archive.”
“Great teamwork. Loved that girl.” Aiden grinned again. “The codes have been amazingly useful over the years. I learned a lot. It’s a long and sordid tale, but as Vitoria says, best to start from scratch. Shall we talk about the nuclear war?”
Daniel settled in, eager to hear more.
“First, forget about what you’ve been told,” Aiden started. “It’s probably not accurate. Oh, the basics are legit. Three missiles. One obliterated San Francisco, another hit Vladivostok and a third took out a US ballistic missile submarine in the north Pacific, the USS Nevada. Probably ten million killed in the Bay Area, another five around Vladivostok. At least those facts are undisputed.”
Daniel listened intently, noting every detail. The name of the sub alone should be enough to prevent the launch. Unless the conspiracy went even higher in the military. Or, if Aiden was wrong.
“Everyone agrees on that much. But then it gets wacky. The leading theory is all three missiles were launched from the sub, though it’s not clear why any submarine commander would destroy his own ship or his own country.”
Did the Russians launch or not?
Brother Benjamin had claimed they had. There was a scientific way to test. Daniel let Aiden continue, listening for additional discrepancies with Benjamin’s version of the story.
“Most people figured it was a rogue captain, something the military sa
id couldn’t happen. I’ve studied the personnel files, and I agree with the military. Captain Lundstrom was one of their best. So was his executive officer. There’s no way either of them would have pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, with the sub destroyed, the military brass had no better explanation of what happened that day.”
Daniel had spent eight years working as a scientific investigator for the Navy and could verify Aiden’s assessment. Without exception, those who commanded such power were the Navy’s best. Stable, rational and vigilant people. Labeling a submarine commander as a “rogue captain” was just a cop-out for those unwilling to search for the more complex reasons that human systems sometimes failed.
“Regardless of what really happened, the public’s view was solidified. This unspeakable horror was not due to any international crisis, but to a careless system. Russia, of course, came very close to launching their weapons in retaliation, and for a few hours it looked like the world was going disappear in a giant mushroom cloud. Luckily, that didn’t happen.”
“Your description is already different than the version I heard earlier today,” Daniel said. “Committee Security told me the Russians did launch. It was their missile that hit San Francisco.”
“Not a chance,” Aiden said. “You’ll find quite a few books that claim the Russians fired, but recognize that the Committee dominates the information most Americans consume. As soon as you get outside this fucked-up country of ours, you’ll hear a different story. The Russians are adamant they never fired, and the evidence backs them up.”
“It wouldn’t be hard to measure,” Daniel said.
“It isn’t. Nuclear fallout can be tracked as it circles the Earth. Measuring the levels of plutonium ions identifies the unique signature of the original fissile material, which tells you who manufactured the bomb.”
“Secondary ion mass spectrometry,” Daniel said. “I know something about it.” Aiden’s explanation of plutonium tracking was spot-on.
“Even our allies agreed that all three missiles came from the US. It was a defining moment for international relations. Virtually every country turned against us. An out-of-control warmonger, they called us. Inside the US, we became more isolationist, cut off from our former friends. They even started building another border wall—a razor-wire fence separating us from Canada.”
The Quantum Series Box Set Page 80