Conrad Starguard - Conrad's Time Machine Part 27

"Can you get us back home again?"

"That's what I'm going to try, even though I don't have any of our charts or tables with us. I think the easiest thing to do will be to simply retrace our steps. I'll pick a time in our subjective future, and have it reverse our directions from that point."

"Why do it in our future? Why not do it now?"

"Because it's going to take me some time to change the program in the first place, stupid, and I don't want to rush myself. I may not get a second try. We may not get a second try."

It took me a half an hour to modify the program to run us backward, and load it into the buffer. I had to use some educated guesses as to estimating our drift, and that troubled me. If I was off by twenty feet sideways, we would emerge in solid rock, which would not only instantly kill all of us, but would likely take out the entire factory as well. Being off by only two inches would wreck the canister, and it just might kill us anyway, although in a less spectacular fashion.

Ian spent another forty-five minutes checking over my work before he would approve of what I'd done.

I'd allowed two hours for the job, so we had another forty-five minutes to chew our nails before we could load the modified programs into the machine proper.

The squad of infantry, all being of Killer stock, spent the first half hour of the emergency quietly talking to each other. You could see that they were worried, but on the whole, they were taking it pretty well.

After that, someone got out a deck of cards and a poker game was soon in progress, played in zero gravity. They hadn't brought any money with them, but they had an empty Kleenex box Scotch taped to the middle of a makeshift table, and IOUs written on sc.r.a.ps of paper were being stuffed into it as the game progressed. The winner of each hand got to empty the box. Since their period outfits didn't run to pockets, cards and IOUs of various denominations had to be stuffed under one's belt. It slowed down the game, but killing time was the object of the exercise in the first place.

Had there been anything that needed doing, I could see that these troops were ready to do it.

The construction workers were all Smoothies, and they were in much worse shape.

One burly sand hog had simply fainted the moment that it was obvious that we were in trouble. Most of the rest just sat it out in a blue funk, with sweat beading up on their zero- G faces like monstrous zits. About an hour and a half in, one of them freaked out, screaming and clawing his way toward the canister door, for what reason none of us could imagine. There wasn't anything outside the door, not even air. Maybe not even s.p.a.ce.

At least we didn't think there was anything out there. The temporal screen that surrounded the canister reflected back everything in the electromagnetic spectrum, including light and radio waves. Some of the test canisters had been programmed to turn off their screen so we could get an instrumented look around, but none of those had ever returned.Bracing himself between two seats, Lieutenant McMahon simply threw the screaming worker back to the other end of the canister, and when the man immediately tried for the door again, Bob just kicked the fellow in the jaw, knocking him out cold.

"Nice job," Ian said, as he helped haul the unconscious worker back to his seat.

Finally, the timer I'd set up to dump the buffer into the machine proper timed out, and we were, in theory at least, heading home. Not that we felt any change in our direction.

From there, it was another three hours of sitting around to see if my fix had really fixed anything, and if, indeed, we would survive this trip.

Ian had two of the workers break out some food and we had a quiet, nervous lunch.

The canister didn't have a john, but the only sergeant we had along, a fellow named Kuhn, emptied a keg of ancient-looking, hand-cut nails into a plastic sack, and we made do with the keg. You had to be quick with the lid, or you had a mess floating around, but we made do.

After a bit, I joined into the poker game, and was soon followed by Ian. We all fit around the small table because half of the troops were upside down, and holding themselves to the ceiling by means of the cargo straps up there. None of the Smoothies asked to play, because Smoothies never gambled. With their lifestyle, there wasn't any point to it.

The game broke up a few minutes before we were due to arrive home. It was just as well, since by then I was fourteen thousand dollars down, and Ian had lost more than twice that. When you know that there's a fair chance that you won't live to settle up your debts, there's not much incentive to scrimp on your betting. Sergeant Kuhn was the day's big winner, being over twenty thousand ahead. I don't think he cheated, but that man is one mean poker player!

Everyone got back to their seats. Most of the people had improvised some sort of seat belts by then, and the rest of them just held on.

The timer hit six zeros again, and this time something definite happened. The canister wall to my right was suddenly three inches closer to me, the "POP" nearly burst my ear drums, and gravity had returned.

"It seems that we have arrived!" I shouted, and got a cheer out of the troops. The Smoothies just sat there and looked relieved.

Ian and Lieutenant McMahon got to the door at about the same time, but when they tried to turn the crank, it wouldn't budge. We were home, or at least we were someplace with earth gravity, but we were still trapped in the canister!

The lieutenant started beating on the door with the b.u.t.t of what looked like a "Brown Bess" musket, and a few minutes later, someone else started beating on it from the outside. Another cheer went up.

Our good lieutenant knew Morse code, and a few moments later, someone was found on the outside who could understand him and reply.

It seems that besides being welded to the side of the stationary canister, we had also come back a few inches too close to the door, such that the two doors were now welded together. We were instructed to wait until cutting torches could be brought down to our area."This is not good," I said. "I can smell ozone. We are taking a dose of ionizing radiation right now."

"Right. To h.e.l.l with obsolete technology, anyway." Ian said. "Bob, tell whoever is out there to back off! We're cutting our own way out."

Bob quickly beat out a message that I later heard read, "run away!", because Ian was already positioning himself in front of the door with his temporal sword in his hand.

Ian gave whoever was out there a count of five to be gone, and then, with a quick rotation of his wrist, cut a six foot circle in the big door. As it began to fall, another fast wiggle of his hand cut the circle into six pieces, which came to the floor with a loud clatter.

"Everybody out!" I shouted, and was almost trampled by the little, ordinary sized people scrambling past me. I was the last one out, proudly wearing my white plumed hat and my fine steel sword.

Naturally, there were medics and ambulances waiting to take us all away. I felt just fine, but after my earlier experiences with radiation damage caused by temporal reimmersion, I thought it best not to argue with them.

Arguing with a medic doesn't do you much good anyway. Their egos are such that if you disagree with whatever strange thing they're doing to your only body, they'll automatically a.s.sume that you're in shock, or otherwise out of your head, and sedate you so that you can't disagree with them any more.

Our exalted status did get Ian and me to the front of the line at the hospital, and we were out of there in an hour. It turned out that the dosage we'd gotten wasn't at all serious.

Of course, had we waited around in the canister for a few hours, things would have been much different.

I soon discovered that we had returned to our own time only a half hour after we'd left. Had we gotten back much sooner, we'd have run into Hasenpfeffer and his crowd again before they'd had a chance to leave. This was good, because I wasn't ready to talk to him just yet.

"Lieutenant McMahon, you did well today. Now, I want you to look up Leftenant Fitzsimmons of the Navy and Captain Stepanski of the Air Force. I want the three of you at my office in a half hour. I have another job for you to do."

"Yes, sir." He saluted and left.

"What's that about?" Ian said.

"We need some detective work done, and one thing this strange little island doesn't seem to have is a police force."

"True enough. But soldiers aren't cops."

"They're the closest thing that we have available. If those three can't do the job, I think that they'll know who can. What's more, I have the feeling that they'll be on our side, no matter what, and that's something I'm not sure I can say about all the Smoothies,"

I said.

"Unfortunately, after this morning I agree with you. I didn't like the way all of our managers were down there backing up Hasenpfeffer. Not to mention Ming Po and Barbara.""Yeah. Something stinketh mightily around here, and I intend to dig it up before we bury it again."

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Sabotage?

Still in my eighteenth-centuary getup, with my steel sword at my side and my plumed hat hanging on a convenient peg behind my desk, I filled the officers in on the problems we experienced on our first attempted time trip, with Ian sitting in.

" . . . so what we need to know is what went wrong, and how do we fix it, if it was some sort of technical problem, or who did it and why, if we're looking at sabotage. You can call in any help you think you may need, and spend as much time and money as you want, just as long as you all show up here again in an hour with some answers. Are you three up to the task?"

Leftenant Fitzsimmon had turned out to be the senior man in the group, so he answered, in his almost accurate upper cla.s.s English accent, "Yes, sir. You will be seeing us back here shortly, I expect."

They snapped to and saluted. It felt strange to be returning a salute to a bunch of officers, but I saluted them back, rather than make them hold that silly posture. Then they did an about-face and left. I guessed that they must figure that I was their Comander-in- Chief.

Maybe I was.

"They'll be doubling back, of course." Ian said, "Why was Lieutenant Fitzsimmon acting as if he was superior to Captain Stepanski?"

"Because by their rules, he is. Not having had the benefit of a proper military education, you never learned that a navy lieutenant is equal in rank to an army captain, for some strange historical reason. After that, Fitzsimmon had more time in grade. Also, a navy captain is equal to an army colonel, but why should I tell you this when you're the one with the exalted history major?"

"Oh. Someday, I'll look it up. For now, I think our next step should be interviewing our subordinates."

"Right," I said, pushing a b.u.t.ton on my desk. "Kowalski, come in here."

She walked in immediately, and stood before my desk, looking worried. I didn't feel like setting her at ease.

"Kowalski, a while ago, you were down in the time canister area, standing behindHasenpfeffer and apparently supporting his demands that our trip be aborted. Why did you do that?"

"But, I didn't! I mean, I was there because Dr. Hasenpfeffer had invited me, but I never took anyone's side on anything! I never said a word!"

"You didn't have to. You stood there behind him, literally backing him up. Also, you heard me order you and the rest of the crowd out, and you didn't obey me. Why was that?"

"But, you wanted one thing, and Dr. Hasenpfeffer wanted another, and I didn't know what to do, so I didn't do anything!"

"For future reference, this outfit is owned by three equal partners. If we ever have the bad taste to disagree in public again, remember that any two of us can outvote the third."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, did you know of any reason why we should not have taken that trip?"

"Well, when you got back, you were all sent to the hospital! Isn't that reason enough?"

"Yes, but did you know about that before we left?"

"No, sir. But Dr. Hasenpfeffer did say that your trip was 'ill advised,' and that was hint enough for me."

"Huh. Well, go, for now. Send in the rest of my senior staff, one at a time, and don't tell them what all this is about."

"Yes, sir."

The rest of my people came in one at a time, and they all said about the same thing as Kowalski. They were there because Hasenpfeffer had invited them, and they didn't do anything because they didn't know what to do.

We went to Ian's office and he repeated the procedure with his people.

We got the same results.

"Maybe we're reading more into this thing than we should," I said.

"Maybe. Let's see what those military types of yours have come up with. We've kept them waiting for over an hour."

"Oops! I forgot about them."

We went back to my office and had Kowalski send in the three officers.

"I'm sorry to keep you gentlemen waiting for so long, but we got involved in something else, and I lost track of time."

"No problem, sir," Fitzsimmon said in his best phony British accent. "With any appointment, it's common to make a TARR-that's a Time Actually Required Request- to a bloke's secretary. It saves all sorts of time that would otherwise be wasted sitting around and waiting. Your Miss Kowalski informed us of when you'd really want us here, so we got here just in time."

"A TARR, huh? I see that you are as efficient as ever. Well then, what can you tell us about the 'accident' we had earlier today? What are we up against? Technical failure or sabotage?"

"Technical failure, beyond all doubt. Last night, all electronic systems in the canisterwere completely torn down and everything was carefully checked. The controls of the canister were in perfect working order. Early this morning, a technician typed the program in accurately, checked it herself, and then had a co-worker check it all again. I then personally verified that the program installed was the one you wrote. No one went into the canister from then until your group entered an hour later."

"How can you be so sure of all of this?"

"Besides our personal checks, we used various cla.s.sified surveillance devices to verify everything."

"What sort of 'cla.s.sified' devices."

"I'm not at liberty to disclose that, sir."

"I don't like that answer."

"I'm sorry, but it's the best answer you are going to get, sir. Please consider that these devices will someday be invented by the two of you gentlemen. If you learned about them before you had invented them, you would be messing with the laws of causality, a most unsafe procedure."

"So just what would happen to me if I did break these laws of yours?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea, sir. To the best of my knowledge, there has never been a well-doc.u.mented case of anyone ever daring to break those laws."

"Then how can you possibly say that breaking them is dangerous? The best you can honestly say is that it is unknown."

"Sir, you haven't taken the time to consider the facts carefully. We have two entire cultures where millions of people have been using time machines for many thousands of years. Thus, there have been untold trillions of opportunities to violate causality.

Consider that some of those people were probably dishonest, and that many more of them were doubtless curious. Yet there is not one single verifiable case of violated causality on record. Do you know why?"

"No, I don't."

"Neither do I. The best guess is that nature has some mechanism that corrects these violations. How it does this is unknown. My own thought is the data can also be stated thusly-"There is no one still in existence who has ever violated causality.' Given that, the short of it, sir, is that I prefer existence to its alternative, and therefore I have no intention of ever messing with the laws of causality."

"Interesting, but let's get back to the problem at hand," Ian said. "You said that we had technical problems. What do you recommend that we do?"

"Your equipment was designed with simplicity and efficiency in mind, which was appropriate for use in disposable canisters when only discrete electronic components were available. Now, with large, non-expendable canisters, we recommend that you redesign your circuitry for greater safety. For example, you are using only a simple, horizontal parity check. We suggest that at the least you add an additional, vertical parity check. A good investment might be in a military style, triple redundant circuit, where two out of three circuits must agree for anything to happen. With the new integrated circuits, this shouldn't cost much in terms of bulk or power requirements. There are many other security techniques to be found in the textbooks.""Very good, gentlemen. Thank you for a job well done," I said as they left.

While Ian and I mulled their report over, I called Kowalski in and asked her to tell me exactly how she used TARRs.

"Well, sir, when those three officers first left your office a few hours ago, one of them, the Air Force captain, told me that they had an appointment to see you in an hour, so I wrote it down in your appointment book. Then the Navy lieutenant asked me for a TARR, and I wrote down the time he had asked for it. Then my mail box dropped a letter from its out slot addressed to him. I gave him the envelope without opening it, of course.

Then, a few minutes ago, after you'd actually called them in, I wrote down the time you called for them, and sealed the note in an envelope. I addressed the envelope with my own address but the lieutenant's name, and the time when he asked for the TARR. Then I put the envelope in the box's in slot."