by KD Mack
“But how do we get in?” Steff asked. Another convoy, the third that day, pulled in. This one didn’t carry people, but supplies, and a gaggle of armed men came from the building, unloading boxes in the dim light of flashlights before heading inside. Steff had the feeling they wouldn’t be seeing much movement, if any, until the next morning. It would be too dark to see even your hand in front of your face, soon. If Xavian’s people did do anything, the trio wouldn’t be able to see it well from this vantage point.
“I’ve never had trouble with showing up at people’s door and telling them I want to join the cause,” Kreg said. “I mean, yeah, they’re generally pretty suspicious. And you have to be careful when you don’t know what the cause is. Keep it peppy, with lots of platitudes. ‘I really believe in what you’re doing here!’ ‘I can’t believe what they’ve done.’ ‘I think it’s time they paid for it!’ Keep it general. Somebody will ask you some question that will give you enough to work off of.” He grinned, munching on a field ration bar. “Let me lead the way, and we’ll be members of Xavian’s army by the evening.”
“I was thinking we try to slip into the lines of people they’re bringing in,” Bendon said, then shrugged. “But I think your idea has as much chance of working, maybe more.”
Steff looked between them. “These are the ideas? Pretend to join up, or somehow join a group in a truck without anyone noticing?”
“Do you have one?”
“I mean, we could jump in there –”
“Which works when we have the layout,” Bendon interrupted. “Jump into a store room, grab some lab coats, that whole deal. Like when we were dealing with those appliance smugglers?”
Steff smiled at the memory. “Exactly.”
“I’m sorry, did you just say appliance smugglers? Like blenders?”
Bendon nodded. “You’d be surprised.”
“Why did they have lab coats?”
“Oh, they were fronting as a manufacturing firm,” Steff said. “Had this whole ‘development lab’ that was totally bunk.”
“Well, I mean, they were using it to synthesize drugs,” Bendon pointed out. “It did see use.”
“Which they then hid in the appliances,” Steff reminded her.
“Smuggled drugs in smuggled appliances?” Kreg said incredulously. “That’s a lot of work to help people get high.”
“They were good drugs,” Bendon replied.
“How would you know?” Kreg asked.
Bendon winked, which got a hearty laugh from Kreg. “She has jokes! And here I was, thinking you were a stick in the mud.”
Steff smiled, saying nothing. If Bendon realized Kreg wasn’t such a terrible person, maybe they could get somewhere with all of this. She yawned, sliding down the wall and deeper into her sleeping bag.
“I’ll keep first watch,” Bendon volunteered. “You two get some rest. We’ll keep watching them through the morning hours and then make our call to Matias. I’ll let him know we’ll have to head in.”
“Thanks, Bendon,” Steff said, slipping rapidly into sleep. Despite all sense, she was suddenly certain that this rocky cliffside shelf was somehow more comfortable than the bed she had been on for the past few weeks. She slept deeply, dreamlessly, until Bendon woke her up a few hours later for her own watch shift. Kreg, of course, was off of watch duty, something he reminded Steff of with his snores. By the time morning came, Steff was antsy, ready to get going. Why not try to bluff their way in? If worse came to worst, they would just jump out. Life-saving jumps were always covered by orders. And they would know for sure that Xavian was hostile.
The next few hours were torture. Nothing happened at the base, at least not that was externally visible, and Steff nearly whooped with relief when Bendon finally made the call to Matias and they prepped to move in. The sun was just hitting its highest point as they stood in front of the doors to the base.
“We’ve had snipers trained on us for the last half-mile, but they haven’t fired,” Kreg whispered as they stood in front of the door. “No sudden movements, okay?”
“Why didn’t they fire?” Bendon whispered back.
“They might be more open to recruits than we thought,” he said. “You left all the branded stuff back at the camp?”
“I’m not an idiot,” Bendon replied. “Right now, we’re anonymous.”
“Good,” Kreg’s face split into a convincingly nervous smile as the door opened. A large man stood there; his arms crossed.
“Give us a reason why you’re not a threat or we’ll give you a good demonstration of how we are one,” he said.
Kreg flung his hands up in the air. “We came to join!” he said, his voice squeaking with feigned anxiety. “We heard about where you guys were and we wanted to help.”
The man looked them over. “Any of you sick?”
Kreg paused for a beat, and as Steff watched him, she saw some realization of what was going on settle on him. “No. But my sister was.”
“Was?” the gruff man asked.
Kreg nodded slowly, allowing his face to fall a bit before rallying. “My friends – they haven’t had anyone taken. But they’re sympathetic to the cause. I can vouch for them.”
The man looked them over again. Steff tried to look sympathetic to whatever cause they were talking about. Finally, he jerked his head, leading them in.
“I can’t approve you. But we can show you around. You’ll have to put your weapons there.” He pointed to a table guarded by a small man with a big gun. “Don’t try to tell me that you don’t have them. I can see them on you.”
Bendon opened her mouth to respond, but Kreg shook his head ever so slightly. They unloaded their gear with the smaller man, who gave them a grateful smile. “You’ll get them all back once you’re cleared. Don’t worry.”
The large man led them through a series of industrial-looking hallways until they ultimately reached a large, converted warehouse room. Steff could tell from the rapidly cooling temperature that they were delving deeper and deeper into the cliffside. Stretched out in the room before them were rows and rows of beds, people resting on them, gathered around them and chatting, or otherwise milling about. They watched the small group move through the room with no small amount of trepidation.
“They’re anxious about newcomers,” the man said.
“Understandable,” Kreg replied, nodding affirmatively. Steff tried to figure out what the heck Kreg knew that she and Bendon didn’t. The people around them looked normal, though tired and certainly displaced, though Steff wasn’t sure from what or where. A few times, something seemed to shift in her peripheral vision, but whenever she tracked it, it was just a person on a cot or some teenagers chatting. She shook her head and kept walking forward. They could jump if there was a problem, she reminded herself.
On the far side of the room was another short hall leading to a series of makeshift offices. The man led them to one on the end, then stood to the side. “He’s free now,” he said, without apparently needing to check anything. “Go on in.”
Steff took a breath as they stepped through the door. In front of them, behind a pile of papers, looking back and forth between two books, was Xavian Roskon, the man who had tried to ensure the apocalypse. The man who had nearly killed her and all of her friends. The rush of fear, of anger, came over her suddenly, and she realized after a head spinning moment that Kreg had taken her hand.
“Your friend looks upset,” Xavian said, looking between Kreg and Bendon.
“She was there when they took my sister,” Kreg lied smoothy. “It kind of takes her over sometimes, the anger about it.”
“It’s understandable,” Xavian replied. “The persecution of those with chrono-sickness is enough to turn anyone’s head. Anyone of good conscience, that is.” He set leaned back in his chair. “So, you want to help us smuggle them to safety? We can’t guarantee the ability to find anyone who was already taken.”
“We understand,” Kreg said, letting go of Steff’s hand as she regaine
d herself. “We just want to make sure we’re doing what’s right.”
“You’re in the right place, then. Our mission is to end Chrono Corp.’s reign of terror over those chrono-afflicted once and for all.”
Chapter Three
The three were huddled in a small office Xavian had let them use after Kreg had begged for some time for them to come to terms with their new life. Bendon’s face was set, solid. She had not liked what Xavian had to say to them, and she was letting it be known through her silence. Steff was still overwhelmed. She had figured that a larger organization like Chrono Corp. probably had some skeletons in its closet. After all, she herself had questioned their use of force to stop people in the past from manipulating time, people who were doing it before the Corp. was even created. She had doubted their claims to jurisdiction over the entire timeline. But that didn’t mean that she hadn’t been able to think of a good argument why they should just let people do whatever they wanted with the timeline, when it affected everyone.
But the things Xavian had told them…
When the time powers had started to emerge, had shifted from object-based to innate over the last few years, rising with greater frequency in the last year itself, it had come with some adverse effects. Steff had been warned about traveling anchor-less. The Chrono Corp. had said it was too easy to get swept away in the timestream without one.
Her hand went back to her scar. Even after coming out from under anesthesia, she hadn’t been able to find anything that had been messed with. No new incision place, no new implant. Had they really only put her under for a scan? Had they been looking for signs of this same disease that Xavian illustrated to them then, with Kreg piping up throughout the talk to add more details?
People with the power to travel innately were coming out of the woodwork. Their powers varied; some, though far fewer, having matter manipulation like Kreg. But for some people, it seemed to have adverse effects. To drive them crazy. Or, more often, Xavian said, they simply didn’t have full control over themselves. And those people kept being taken by Chrono Corp. and other shadowy groups. Vanishing. Families not knowing where they had been. In the cities – cities Steff had to admit she had not seen in some time, not since joining Chrono Corp. – there were posters up about reporting those with chrono-sickness. How they were going to be treated.
“They don’t get treated,” Xavian had said, his voice rough. “They get co-opted into service, turned into lab rats, or destroyed. It all depends on how Chrono Corp. marks the severity of their situation. The company can’t treat this any more than they understand how the long use of time travel resulted in some people having the innate ability to do it. They’re floundering in the dark, like the rest of us, but they’re floundering with malice.”
“I knew things were bad,” Steff had said, reminding herself she was playing the part of someone already disgusted with Chrono Corp.’s actions, “but I really thought they just kept the ill imprisoned. You’re saying they’re killed? I… I had a friend who was in the service. She told me they don’t even use lethal weaponry because of how it can affect the timeline.”
“Sure, they don’t use lethal weapons in the past, at least, not usually. But every organization has exceptions to its rules. But in the here and now? They are much more liberal with it. Especially if they are convinced they’re saving the timeline.”
“The timeline’s not supposed to be saved,” Bendon said, “but preserved. It’s not Chrono Corp.’s place to affect the course of events, just ensure that they played out as they were supposed to.”
“And who do you think decides how they were supposed to?” Xavian replied. “They are ensuring their version of time – the version of time they think is the most accurate, the ‘best’ one – is playing out. I’ve heard the stories, seen the aftereffects. Guys who weren’t even time skippers getting taken down by Chrono Corp. agents for doing something in the past or present they decided was going to affect the timeline in an ‘inauthentic’ way. But they determine the authenticity.”
Bendon shook her head, disagreeing, but didn’t speak. Steff had hoped Xavian just thought she was shaking her head at the horror. She couldn’t tell how much Xavian trusted them or not, but at least he had told them everything. About his operation, about how he had found out about Chrono Corp.’s actions after his own mother had been taken away, and how he had been working over the last few years – particularly in the last year – to get as many people to safe places as he could. Communities were springing up all over the place that were taking in those with chrono-sickness. If they laid low and got them out of the major cities, he said, Chrono Corp. largely seemed to leave them alone. The more rural, the better.
It was shortly after that Kreg begged them out of the room so they could process what they had just heard. Bendon was still silent since she had spoken up in the room, and was stewing hard, staring down at the tabletop.
“It’s gotten worse,” Kreg sighed. “Chrono Corp. is clearly panicking about the spread of abilities.”
“I was always told that jumping without an anchor is unsafe,” Steff said.
“It is.” Kreg shrugged. “But so is driving a car, or joining Chrono Corp. Power like this is always going to be dangerous. But that doesn’t mean that people can’t get the hang of it. I could.”
“Yeah, but if you’re driving a car, there are safety features. If you join up Chrono Corp., we have protective gear, training, all of that. Jumping through time is inherently dangerous. An anchor acts like a life vest. If you don’t wear one, you’re just being stupid.”
“You took yours out,” Kreg said, with a frustrated look. “Why are you lecturing me on this when you’ve already turned your back on it once?”
“I had no other option to track you down!” Steff replied. “And I’m sure they’ve stuck one back in me, somewhere. And you know what? It’s frustrating, but it keeps me safe.”
“It keeps you tracked!” Kreg snapped.
“Okay, so we have more people develop trackers that aren’t run by Chrono Corp.! It’s not like they have the monopoly on technology.”
“They kind of do,” Kreg replied. “And it’s not like an anchor fixes the people with chrono-sickness. At least not most of them. If it did, why would they do the things Xavian was telling us about?”
“Yes,” Bendon interrupted coldly. “Why? What, exactly, would Chrono Corp. gain from rounding up citizens in need and summarily executing themselves? Putting people with erratic powers in service? Xavian’s story doesn’t make any sense. Just because he doesn’t get to come in contact with people who have a dangerous disorder after Chrono Corp. takes them in doesn’t mean that Chrono Corp. is instantly nefarious. Conspiracy theories are always going to be started by people who don’t understand what’s going on. We’re supposed to just trust some guy – a guy who we know tried to ensure a horrible cataclysmic event in another timeline – over everything we know about the organization we’ve been a part of for some time?” She looked at Steff. “I get Kreg buying into this stuff. He’s already got his own beef with Chrono Corp. But you?”
“I’m not buying it!” Steff shook her head. “But obviously he has some reason for setting up this whole operation. Even if it’s not true, he believes it, and we need to figure out what’s going on here!”
Bendon gave a sharp look to Kreg. “Tell him we camped nearby last night to make sure they weren’t hostile. Tell him we have to get our things. Then we’ll be back.”
“He’ll make one of us stay,” Kreg said.
“He won’t make us. They’ll have eyes on our camp already. They can keep our weapons, even. Once they realize they’re non-lethal they’ll have an idea of where we came from anyway.”
“Okay.” Kreg shrugged, clearly not wanting to pick this fight. He left, returning nearly twenty minutes later. “It wasn’t as easy as you made it sound, but the three of us are free to return to the camp. If we leave the curve of the canyon, they will come after us.”
“
We aren’t leaving,” Bendon said.
She led them back through the maze of halls, never hesitating for a second. Steff felt a brief swell of admiration. Bendon had mapped the whole place in her head while they had been moving. She wasn’t going to let some guys try to confuse her with a convoluted tour through a place.
They were quiet as they walked back to the camp, Bendon ignoring any attempts to start up conversation again. When they reached the site, she faced towards the canyon wall, pulling out her comm device and contacting Matias.
Kreg surged forward, as if to knock it from her hand, but Steff gripped him. Bendon was right. They barely had any reason to trust Kreg, and they had no reason to trust Xavian. Her stomach churched while Bendon relayed what they learned to headquarters, listening to their orders on the headpiece, leaving Steff and Kreg out of the loop. There was just one thing Steff was sure about, and it kept making her nervous, every time she thought about it.
Even if Xavian was wrong, he still believed what he was saying one hundred percent. What had happened to make him so sure? What had he seen? Or was he just that easy to fool in this timeline, got taken up in some conspiracy theory like Bendon said?
After a few minutes, Kreg sulking beside Steff, Bendon ended the call and turned back to them. Her voice was as cold as before, and her face warned against any argument.
“Matias said it is imperative we arrest Xavian and shut down this operation as it is a danger to the public and highly illegal. If we feel capable, we can make a move ourselves, but he will also be sending a team out in the morning.”
“In the morning?” Kreg replied. “They can time travel. Why not prepare and show up now?”
“Unlike you, the organization takes jumps seriously, and likes to avoid unnecessary pushes through time. It will take an evening for them to prepare and they will simply jump locationally tomorrow morning, the same as we did to get here.”
Kreg shrugged, spinning to sit facing the opposite way as Bendon. “I’m not helping arrest Xavian. He’s saving people’s lives. I knew you were a boot-licker, Bendon, but after seeing all those people, you really want them to end up in Chrono Corp.’s hands?”