A Long Time Until Now (66 page)

CHAPTER 41

Elliott’s phone beeped. He answered it.

“Elliott.”

“Elyot, Arnet here.”

“Yes, Arnet, what is it?”

“Wanna show you. Come over?”

“I’ll be right there.”

He was only too happy to get away from PowerPoint and AutoCAD. He was trying to design expansions that would give them more protected area, as secondary outlots.

It was sunny, breezy and tall white clouds swept the sky. It was pretty much never not beautiful here, and largely safe, now that detente had been reached all around.

Over at their vehicle, Arnet had his device out, and a screen up on the dash, too.

“What is it?” he asked.

Arnet pointed at a graph that had intermittent spikes on it.

“Zat’s probly tempral warbles.”

“Temporal? Time?” Is that what it sounded like?

Arnet said, “Yeh, some dribble of senso.”

“Regarding time?” he repeated urgently.

“Zact. Flutter in instro. Same as grav tingles show erdquake, wooz?”

He took a moment to process that.

“Uh, we haven’t successfully predicted earthquakes, but I get your meaning. So there is something going on in the time continuum? Not just aftershocks of our transit?”

“Right. Fresh. Warbles. Means zey seek.”

Ripples ran through his body, his brain flipped, and he took a deep breath and gripped the edge of the vehicle to avoid shaking. It felt like a panic attack, like the day they arrived.

“How will they find us?”

“Oh, fine dis,” he said, slapping their vehicle. “No worry, easy sense. Posbl fine yours, too.”

“That would be even better. How will we know?”

“Sig pop enough, we’ll know.”

“But does that mean we can go home?”

Arnet shrugged. “I sume so. Warbles mean senso. No reason for senso wout intent to pull back.”

“Yeah. You realize I’m pretty excited about this, right?” Excited? He was shaking in response. His fingers tingled.

“Wooz. We too. Home, man.”

“How sure are you?”

Arnet shrugged again. “Sure zey doing summa. Proble zey look. Likey zey trying.”

“What do we need to do?”

Cryder came around.

“Needa contac all groups, plan for meet at transit locus.”

“Only one? Not each of us back where we started?”

“Dunno,” he said. “Try cent point first. If sig clarifies.”

“Shit. First we have to make sure they all get it.”

That gave him another mission.

He turned and forced himself to walk. He wanted to sprint and skip. He started to shout at Alexander, then realized he should keep it quiet.

He didn’t dare get his hopes up. He had no idea what those sensors were, what the Cogi’s motivation was, or what technology the Cogi had. Actually, they’d never even said if it was their fault, just that they had an idea what was involved.

He forced his panicked walk slower, took another breath, and stepped onto the back of Number Nine.

“Gina,” he said. She had several windows overlapped and the cat on her lap. Wow. He was almost domesticated.

“Yes, sir?” she replied.

“I need a written message to send to the Romans, assuming they’re literate, and a verbal one to go to the Gadorth. You’ve held a high clearance?”

“Quite high, yes, sir.”

“This is diplomatic stuff.”

“No problem, sir. How do I draft this letter?”

“I’ll tell you what it should say. Can you work with one of the Romans on wording?”

“I can. Why me and not Sergeant Spencer?”

“I’ll cover that later,” he said. Crap. He wasn’t sure. He wanted to tell everyone. He needed support. She was effectively the CQ, personnel, logistics and commo sections. She seemed logical.

“Understood.”

“I need to meet with representatives of both groups regarding future development. Day after tomorrow. Their safety is guaranteed. They will be treated as guests.”

“Got it.”

It was hard to hide anything from Felix Trinidad. He was good at intel. He respected Alexander’s ability to disappear in a crowd of two. He had that, too.

He also knew what to look for.

Elliott had had several frantic conversations with the Cogi. He’d sent invites to the other displacees to come here. The Cogi were excited about something, chattering to each other and in much better spirits than they had been. In fact, they were actually in spirits, not in their previous calm state, which he now deduced was an emotional holding pattern, like the soldiers had had the first few weeks, just longer.

Someone thought there was a possibility of going home. They weren’t talking about it publicly, so it wasn’t definite.

It was possible, though.

As much as they’d done here, as neat as it was, he didn’t think anyone would be unhappy to go, if they could.

Probably none would be as glad as he, though, except possibly Doc. He was the only Filipino in the world. That remained a very lonely thing.

For now, he’d be hopeful, but cautious, and not tell anyone else.

He’d pray, though.

To the commander of the Roman garrison, greetings, from Tribune Sean Elliott, Army of the United States, Castrum Sub Petrum. I request an envoy of your garrison, with the appropriate authority, to discuss matters urgent to us all. The Gadorth people will also be present, and the Indian banduka contingent may wish an observer. Your envoy’s safety is guaranteed, and all lodging and food will be provided as a courtesy for this favor. This meeting is to take place the day after tomorrow.

Caius read the missive again.

“That is interesting,” he said, and took a sip of wine. Not bad. It was getting better.

“Is it a trap?” Centurion Vinicius Petronius Niger asked.

“I see no reason it should be. Their banduka are substantially more powerful than those,” he waved at the Indians’ fire tubes racked behind him. “They can shoot through trees a hundred times a minute. Their armor is reportedly stronger than our iron. If they wanted to attack, I have no doubt they could.”

“Who are you sending, sir?”

“I would like to go myself, but this place doesn’t do well without a firm hand. You will go on my behalf. Take a maniple. If it’s an outside threat, we will support the local communities, but the numbers involved will be my decision. If it’s about trade, use your best judgment. We want resources to come to us.”

“I understand, sir.”

“I suppose two of the Indians can go along. They can take pilum. The banduka remain here.”

“I’ll gather materials and leave at first light. We’ll be there a day early.”

“Well done.” He’d made a good choice with Petronius. He was a very solid individual. He’d handle it.

Rich Dalton was up top. He was looking forward to his shift ending. Whatever was going on, it was a war council. Six Romans had arrived with two Indians, and were in that lodge.

“Cryder, this is Tower, do you have range on the Romans?”

“Tower, we have range. Senso guns watching.”

Rich wasn’t sure how their weapons’ controls worked. He knew they had some sort of computer tracking, and a certain amount of autonomous action. They were oriented across the compound in front of the huts the visitors were using, so any attempt at nighttime violence would be caught in a devastating crossfire. The Cogi had been trustworthy so far. Interesting how the more advanced groups with better weapons were less interested in proving it.

He wondered what religion they followed. They didn’t seem to care about any particular food, but then, Caswell had abandoned vegetarianism for the duration. He’d like to ask, but they weren’t very social.

Shift end approached, and Trinidad climbed up to relieve him. He made a final view of the perimeter in the falling dusk, and saw movement.

“Sir, the Gadorth contingent is coming uphill. I count six.”

“Roger,” Elliott responded. “Alexander, how many are on site now?”

“Four, sir.”

“Yeah, keep a good eye on them, too. That’s a notable force.”

Trinidad said, “I heard, sir. Got it.”

He understood why the captain was nervous. The Urushu seemed totally peaceful, but both the Romans and the Gadorth had staged attacks before. They had potential elements inside the COB now, so it was necessary to watch them, and look for any staged forces outside.

“What do you think is up, Trinidad?” he asked as the Filipino settled in behind the M240B.

“I don’t have enough information to speculate.”

“Think we’re going home?” If God had arranged for them here, God could arrange to send them home.

“I dunno.”

Trinidad was so cool when being evasive. But after two years, Rich knew how he presented.

“Hah. You think we are. I know there’s been rumors.”

“In A-stan, I remember rumors of golden conex boxes full of exotic food and supplies,” the Filipino replied. “Back in the PI, there are stories around base of America, the big PX.”

“True. And rumors are only rumors. But you’re being evasive.”

Trinidad shrugged. “Because I don’t know. I hear rumors, too. I don’t have data to analyze, and I’d be talking to the commander if I did, dude.”

“I understand.” He did. It was all rumor, and it would be bad to get hopes up over rumors. It could more easily be something like forming a federation like the Iroquois, or planning some large scale agriculture.