Time Travelers Never Die Part 51

More car doors and voices. Out front and in the parking lot.

They retreated to the back and began taking Victor down from the X-ray machine. Meantime, they heard keys in the front door. "It's taking too long," Helen whispered.

The door opened. A flashlight shone in. A voice said, "Police." Then the door swung wide, and more beams appeared. The plan had been that David would take the corpse directly to the town house, remove the converter, and return with it for Helen. But time was becoming a problem.

The body came free and fell into his arms as the police started down the corridor. Dave began to attach Helen's converter while she wiped off the headrest and checked the floor to be sure no blood had been spilled. Then she and Dave turned off their penlights.

The pa.s.sageway lights came on.

"We don't have time," she whispered. "We're going to have to leave the body." She inserted a fresh disk into the X-ray machine.

"We can't do that."

"Have to. No choice."

Maybe there was.

The cops ordered them to come out into the pa.s.sageway. "Where we can see you. And get your hands up."

"Helen." A new voice, in the dark.

Dave's voice. A second Dave's voice. voice. A second Dave's voice.

d.a.m.n. It had worked. The second David held a converter out for an astonished Helen. "Take it. Quick."

Dumbfounded, she looked from one to the other, then grabbed the laptop.

The voices were right outside the door.

David activated Victor's converter, watched him fade, and followed. The darkened dental office went away, and he was back in the den at the town house, standing beside the desk. Victor's body lay on the floor.

Helen, still in a state of near shock, appeared, followed instantly by the second David. She stared at one. Then the other. Leaned on a side table. "Are you twins?"

"No."

"What's happening?" she asked. "Where'd he he come from?" But she wasn't sure which come from?" But she wasn't sure which he he she was referring to. she was referring to.

The two Davids laughed. Then the one who'd come in with the body removed the converter and set it to return to the point of departure.

"Where are you going?" asked Helen.

"Back to rescue you." He grinned. "I'll arrive a couple of minutes ago."

"I don't understand."

"Take care," he said.

"Wait."

"Got to go." He hit the b.u.t.ton.

And he was back, watching himself bend over poor dead Victor, trying to decide what to do.

". . . Have to leave the body," said Helen, while inserting a disk into the orthopantomograph.

The David who was about to attach the converter to the body shook his head no. "We can't do that."

"Have to," said Helen. "No choice."

"Helen." He couldn't see her well in the dark. But he heard her gasp. He pressed the converter into her hands, the one he'd removed from Victor back in the town house. "Take it," he said. "Quick."

She got it into her hands. Almost dropped it.

Dave and the body went away as lights went on and two police officers burst into the room, guns drawn. Helen started to fade, and Dave pressed the black b.u.t.ton.

THEY were all back in the living room. were all back in the living room.

Helen gawked at him. At both of them. "Are you twins?"

The David who'd been with Helen was in the process of removing the converter from Victor Randall. "No," he said. He lifted the unit and reset it. Looked briefly at his other self, and smiled. "Got to go."

And he went away.

"Is he coming back?" asked Helen.

Dave smiled. "He already did." She looked pale. "You okay?" he asked.

"I think I have a headache."

CHAPTER 41.

O, call back yesterday, bid time return.

-WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, RICHARD II RICHARD II

LIGHTNING glimmered in the curtains. Shel's heating system came on. glimmered in the curtains. Shel's heating system came on.

Helen looked at the body and at the staircase. "We should have brought him in on the second floor."

"I didn't have the coordinates."

"It's only fifteen feet up up."

She was right, of course. Dave made the adjustment for the converter, attached it to the body, and punched the b.u.t.ton. It faded, and when they went upstairs they found him on the landing. "Which bedroom is Shel's?" she asked.

He almost told her that he thought she'd she'd know. But he decided she wouldn't think it was funny. know. But he decided she wouldn't think it was funny.

There were three bedrooms, but it wasn't hard to pick out his. Pictures of their old high-school baseball team, plaques acknowledging his outstanding work for Carbolite, a pile of books on the side table.

Dave turned back the sheets, hauled the corpse onto the bed, and dressed it in Shel's pajamas. When he'd finished, they put his clothes into a plastic bag.

They also had a brick in the bag. They went downstairs and got the keys for Shel's car out of the Phillies cup. They'd debated just leaving the clothes to burn, but neither wanted to leave anything to chance. Despite what one might think about time travel, David understood that what they were doing was forever. They couldn't come back and undo it, because they were here here, and they knew what the sequence of events was, and you couldn't change that without confronting the cardiac principle.

They borrowed Shel's Toyota. It had a vanity plate reading SHEL, and a lot of mileage. But he had taken good care of it. They drove down to the river. At the two-l ane bridge that crossed the Narrows, they pulled off and waited until there was no traffic. Then they went out to the middle of the bridge, where they a.s.sumed the water was deepest, and threw the bag over the side. Dave still had Victor Randall's wallet and ID, which he intended to burn.

They returned Shel's car. By then it was 3:45 A.M., thirty-eight minutes before a Mrs. Wilma Anderson would call to report a fire at the town house. Dave worried whether they'd cut their time too close, that the intruder might already be inside. But it was still quiet when they returned to the house and put the car keys back in the cup.

They locked the place, front and back, which was how they'd found it, and retired across the street behind a hedge. It was a good night's work, and they waited now to see who the criminal was. The neighborhood was tree-l ined, well lighted, quiet. The houses were upper-m iddle-cla.s.s, fronted by small fenced yards. Cars were parked in garages or on drive-ways. Somewhere in the next block, a cat yowled.

Four o'clock.

"Getting late," Helen said.

Nothing moved. "He's going to have to hurry up."

She frowned. "What happens if he doesn't come?"

"He has has to come." to come."

"Why?"

"Because that's the way it happened. We know that for an absolute fact."

She looked at her watch. 4:01.

"I just had a thought," David said.

"We could use one."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe there is no firebug. Or rather, maybe we we are the firebugs. After all, we already know where the fractured skull came from." And he knew who had broken into the desk. are the firebugs. After all, we already know where the fractured skull came from." And he knew who had broken into the desk.

She thought about it. "I think you're right," she said.

"Wait here," he told her. "In case someone does does show up." show up."

"Where are you going?"

"To get some gas."

David left the shelter of the hedge and walked quickly across the street, entered Shel's driveway, and went back into the garage. There were three gas cans. All empty.

He needed the car keys again. He used the converter to get back inside and retrieved the keys. He threw the empty cans into the trunk of the Toyota.

There was an all-n ight station on River Road, only a few blocks away. It was one of those places where they concentrate on keeping the cashier alive after about eleven o'clock. He was a middle-aged, worn-out guy sitting in a cage full of cigarette smoke. A toothpick rolled relentlessly from one side of his mouth to the other. Dave paid in cash, filled the cans, and drove back.

Helen helped. It was 4:17 when they began sloshing gas around the bas.e.m.e.nt. They emptied a can on the stairway and another upstairs, taking care to drench the bedroom where Victor Randall lay. They poured the rest of it on the first floor, and so thoroughly soaked the entry that David was reluctant to go near it with a lighted match. But at 4:25, they touched it off.

They retreated across the street and watched for a time. The flames cast a pale glow in the sky, and sparks floated upward. They didn't know much about Victor Randall, but what they did know was maybe enough. He'd been a husband and father. In their photos, his wife and kids had looked happy. And he got a Viking's funeral.

"What do you think?" asked Helen. "Will it be all right now?"

"Yeah," Dave said. "I hope so."

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DAVE'S first act on returning to the base time, Sat.u.r.day, September 21, eight days after the fire at the town house, was to destroy Victor Randall's wallet and driver's license. first act on returning to the base time, Sat.u.r.day, September 21, eight days after the fire at the town house, was to destroy Victor Randall's wallet and driver's license.

Then he used the converter to travel to Randall's house. He left ten thousand dollars in the mailbox.

He and Helen spent some time planning how to get the news to Shel. The Socrates event seemed like their best bet. "Do it tomorrow," she said. "I'm going home to crash for a while. This has been too much excitement in one day for me."

They were at his place, and she had just started for the door when they heard a car pull up. "It's a woman," she said archly, looking out the window. "Friend of yours?"

It was Lieutenant Lake. She was alone this time.

The doorbell rang.

"This won't look so good," Helen said.

"I know. You want to duck upstairs?"

She thought about it. "My car's out there. There'd be no point."

The bell rang again. David opened up.

"Good morning, Dr. Dryden," said the detective. "I wonder if you can spare me a few minutes?"

"Sure. Come in, Lieutenant. Where's your partner?"

She smiled. "We've been busy." She took a deep breath. "I have a few questions for you."

"Of course."

Helen came into the living room, but the lieutenant did not look surprised. "h.e.l.lo, Dr. Suchenko. It's good to see you again."

Helen nodded. "And you, Lieutenant. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks." Lake cleared her throat and addressed Helen. "I wonder, Doctor, whether I might have a minute alone with Dr. Dryden."