Time's Chariot (21 page)

She thrust the stunner into Daiho's hand. 'Just
point it at the pilots,' she said. 'Let go, Rico.'

Rico lifted his arms up and released the neck of
the pilot. 'Just keep flying,' he ordered in English.
'Keep your hands on the controls and nowhere
else. Come round to bearing two hundred and
forty degrees, height two hundred feet.' The
helicopter began to bank. 'You, guy on the left, put
your hands on your head.'

The co-pilot did as he was told. Su was checking
the pockets of the two unconscious guards. She
found the key and quickly released Rico; then they
put the cuffs on the guards, binding them to their
seats. Rico took the stunner from Daiho and Su
picked the other off the ground. They looked at
each other.

'Thanks,' Rico said with a warm, quiet smile.

'Are there any more of you?' Daiho asked. Su
looked at him askance.

'You're meant to be dead,' she said.

'But as you can see, I'm not.'

'It was a clone,' Rico said. 'A sentient, self-aware
clone,' he added, just to make sure she was getting
it.

'Sentient?' Su looked at the man in horror. 'You
made it sentient? You . . . you . . .'

'Are an accessory to murder and kidnap,' Rico
said, 'and you're going to face the authorities back
home.'

'Not with what I have in my head,' Daiho said
calmly

'Kidnap?' said Scott. 'What do you mean, kidnap?'

Rico glared at him. 'Those two kids, and thanks
for reminding me. Su, get your agrav off. I'm going
to need it.'

'
We are now at recall point
,' said their suits
together.

'Cut speed and hover,' Rico ordered the pilots.
'Hold this position.'

Su was looking round and doing a head count.
'You said there were five of them.'

'The other two are back at the hotel and Asaldra
is God knows where. With two agravs, I can at least
get the kids back to the recall point.' The helicopter
rocked slightly. 'I said, hold position!' Rico
snapped.

'Windy,' the pilot said nervously, glancing back
over his shoulder.

'Do what you can.'

'Yes, sir!'

'What will you do with the equipment?' Daiho
said. Rico looked blankly at him.

'Destroy it, of course,' he said.

'You can't!'

'Oh, I think I can . . .'

'Rico,' said Su, 'it's not worth it. We'll be home
in five minutes, and then we can just send a general
recall. It'll get them and the equipment too. They'll
be back in the Home Time thirty seconds after we
are.'

Su held his gaze, and Rico reluctantly had to
admit she was right.

Scott sat back comfortably in his seat, stretched his
legs and put his hands behind his head. 'Those two
kids, as you call them,' he said, 'work for me. I think
you'll find their contracts allow me to take them
where I want and do with them what I will. The era in
which they work isn't specified. I broke no laws.'

'Unauthorized transferences . . .' Rico said.

'I authorized them,' said Daiho.

'Making contact with bygoners . . .'

'Again, something that someone at
Commissioner level can do.'

'Did you order Asaldra—'

'Mr Asaldra,' Scott corrected.

'— to make contact with a correspondent?'

'Of course,' said Daiho.

'And that's not illegal?' Rico was beginning to
feel desperate.

'Actually, no. Unusual, but not illegal.'

'By the way,' Scott said, with an enormous smile
on his face, 'thank you for getting us out of the
bygoners' hands.'

Rico's jaw tensed and he turned back to Daiho.

'Did you order
Mr
Asaldra not just to make
contact but to reveal the truth about the Home
Time to a correspondent? To let the correspondent
know that recall is possible?'

Daiho's smile became fixed. 'No,' he said, 'but
that didn't happen, did it? There would be
witnesses.'

'I witnessed their conversation,' Rico growled.

'We have your word for that, yes, but that's all.'

'I recorded it on my field computer!' Rico
shouted.

'When we get back to the Home Time and this
little matter comes to the tribunal you'll no doubt
insist on, I think you'll find you didn't.'

'Almost definite, I'd say,' Scott commented.
'After all, Op Garron, you're not very good with
field computers, are you?'

'Why, you . . .' Rico took a step forward and Su
had to step in his way.

'It's almost time for recall,' she said. 'Will you
both please stand up. Remember that we'll arrive
home in the same position as we leave this time, so
sitting down won't be very comfortable.'

With an insouciant ease which made Rico's teeth
stand on edge, the two men undid their buckles
and slowly stood up. The helicopter was still rocking
and they had to put arms out to balance
themselves.

'Please, Op Garron, believe me,' said Daiho. His
voice suddenly held quiet, rock-steady conviction.
'It may seem to you that we've stepped outside
the law, but what we've been doing has been for the
good of the entire Home Time. Everyone will be
grateful to us, and that includes you.'

'Somehow, I'm not interested in people like you
deciding what's good for me,' Rico snapped. 'And
there's still the matter of murder, isn't there? That
clone might have had the mind of a baby, or maybe
you implanted it with just enough of your brainwaves
to give the forensics people the idea that it
was you, but—'

'I would have been prepared to lay down my life
for the Home Time,' said Daiho. 'Therefore, so
would that clone. Therefore, what happened was
voluntary suicide.'

'You can't be serious,' Rico said in amazement,
but then he saw the look of firm conviction on
Daiho's face. 'Good God. You believe that, don't
you? You really can use a clever little lawyer's argument
to absolve yourself of all moral guilt. So much
for the noble patrician.' He shook his head, not in
doubt but as if to shake the revulsion of the sudden
insight from his memory. 'Well, we'll see what they
say when it comes to trial.'

'You keep talking about this trial,' Scott said, 'but
let's face it, you really don't have any evidence, do
you? For . . . well, anything, really. Unless . . .' He
had to grab the back of a seat as the helicopter
reeled again, which rather spoilt his superior air.
'Unless you interview the correspondent,' he added
with a laugh.

The look on Rico's face wiped the smile from
Scott's own.

'Rico!' Su warned him, loudly, but she needn't
have worried.

'Mr Scott,' Rico said quietly, almost in awe, 'I
could almost kiss you. But I won't.' Instead he
grabbed Su's shoulders and gave her a kiss on each
cheek. 'Hold the fort,' he said, and pulled the door
open. The wind blew into the cabin again.

'Where are you going?'

'To get the evidence,' Rico said, his eyes agleam.
He grinned at Scott. 'Thank you so much.'

'For what?' Scott took a step forward. 'This has
gone far enough, Garron. Just face the fact that you
have bungled . . .'

It seemed to happen in slow motion. The
helicopter took another buffeting from the wind;
Scott stumbled forward towards the open door and
stretched out a hand to catch himself, but with the
door open there was nothing to hold on to and with
a shriek he fell into the night.

'
Shit!
' Rico bellowed and dived into the dark
after him. His night vision showed a wriggling,
screaming Scott plunging down to the waves and he
symbed the instructions to his agrav to dive after
the man. He plunged head first, hands by his side,
down towards the sea, then to his amazement felt
his rate of descent suddenly slow.

'No!' he bellowed. 'Keep diving . . .'

It was too late: Phenuel Scott smashed into the
freezing water. A few seconds later Rico drifted
across the seething mass of bubbles where Scott
had splashed down. A man's dark outline showed
through the froth, and Rico didn't need his fieldsuit's
sensors to tell him that there was no hope.

The shock of impact with the bitterly cold water
would have killed him straight off.

'What the hell were you doing?' he shouted.

'
This unit could not permit the operative's intended
course of action
.'

'I could have saved him . . .'

'
Incorrect. You could have reached him before he hit the
water, but your combined momentum would be too much
for this unit to overcome
.'

The fieldsuit was probably right, Rico realized
angrily, floating above the waves. No – not
probably
,
it was right. He and Scott would have died together.

He swore for a very long time, then looked back
up at the helicopter.

'
Too late
,' he symbed.

A pause. '
Are you coming back, then?
' Su said. '
We'll
recall any moment
. . .'

'
Pick me up with the general recall
,' Rico said.

'
Do what? Where are you going?
'

'
Mr Scott was exactly right
,' Rico said, and told his
agrav to fly back to the cliffs.

Alan was propped against the lounge window sill
with his arms crossed, idly supervising the two
Home Time youngsters dismantling their equipment,
when he realized he had been hearing a
helicopter hovering nearby for a quite unreasonable
time now. He pulled back a curtain and
glanced out of the lounge window. The lights of the
machine hovered over the sea a quarter, perhaps
half a mile away. He frowned, but let the curtain
drop back down again. Internal Security were a law
unto themselves and what they did with their
helicopters was up to them. The helicopter that
counted, the one with the prisoners on it, should be
miles away by now.

He turned back to his main task and his hungry
gaze feasted on the prize from the future. This
could be used. There was real potential for . . .

Then he stood up straight and anyone looking in
his direction would have seen the first look of
surprise to cross his face for a very long time.

He recovered quickly.

'Get out,' he said to the BioCarr guards. None of
them budged. Alan walked up to the nearest one –
a hulking, large man who dwarfed him – and
looked up into his face from a distance of a few
inches.

'I said, get out, if you want a job to come back to
tomorrow morning,' Alan said. The guard looked
stonily at him, then glanced up at his fellows and
shrugged. They filed out, leaving Alan alone with
the two kids. They hadn't understood the words but
they had picked up the tone and were looking at
him nervously.

Alan shut the door and turned to face the
French windows.

'They're gone,' he said.

The French windows opened and a ghost walked
in – a shimmering, rippling outline of a human
being. Then abruptly the distortion vanished and a
man was standing there in a dark grey, one-piece suit
that covered him from his feet to the top of his head.
Even the face was covered with a kind of mask.

The hood and mask pulled back of their own
volition, vanishing into the suit's collar, letting Alan
see the newcomer's face.

'I was right,' he said. 'You're not a hotel steward.'

'No,' Rico said. 'Thank you for saving my life, by
the way.'

'And you are?'

'Field Operative Ricardo Garron. You?'

'Call me Alan.'

The two looked at each other for a moment
longer.

'How did you know?' Alan said.

'I'm good, I'm damn good, but you still spotted
me,' Rico said. 'I know I didn't do a thing you could
have picked up on. So, you must have recognized
me. But even then, Paris was a long time ago for you
– something must have tipped you off in the first
place.' He indicated the equipment with a nod of
his head. 'And, of course, that gear over there
broadcasts on the correspondents' frequency.
QED.'

'I turned my back on the Home Time a long
time ago,' Alan said.

'I don't blame you. Some of us don't have that
luxury. Any particular reason?'

'That man Asaldra,' Alan said. 'He used me, he
lied to me . . . and I decided I would do everything
in my power to frustrate his little plans. I don't
know what they are—'

'You and me both.'

'—but I'm going to make sure they don't work.'

'And where is Asaldra now?'

'Somewhere safe, where he's telling us all about
everything. The right drugs and it all comes pouring
out.'

One more job for the Specifics
, Rico thought. 'It
won't do you any good,' he said. 'My friend has
taken over that machine out there. Another five
minutes and everyone in it goes back home. And
then my colleagues come in, extract Asaldra
and make sure none of this ever happened. But you
can still help foil Asaldra's little plans.'

Alan didn't
look
disappointed – he had learned
that lesson way back – but by now every ounce of
humanity, of emotion, had vanished from his face.
'How?' he said.

'Testify. Tell me everything Asaldra did. I'll
broadcast it to my friend and the testimony will go
back to the Home Time. They can't cover that up.'

'You're some kind of policeman?'

'Under the circumstances, yes.'

Alan held Rico's gaze for a moment longer.
'You're from the Home Time too. Why should I
trust you?'

'Count the options.'

Another pause . . .

'My designation,' Alan said, 'is RC/1029. My
mission began on the thirteenth of May, 1029 AD,
in the Persian desert ten miles from Isfahan. I was
first contacted by the man I now know as Hossein
Asaldra that evening . . .'

'
You get all that, Su?
'

'
I got it. Beautiful job
.' Su glanced at her fellow
passengers, keeping her expression calm and cool.
The two guards had woken up and were still dazed.
Daiho was gazing into space.

'How much longer?' he asked without looking at
her.

'Any moment now,' Su said as the countdown
from her fieldsuit entered single figures.

'Your friend had better get back if he's going to
make it.'

Su felt the field take hold of them, felt the disorientation
at the fringes of her consciousness.

'
This is it, Rico. See you soon
.'

'
See you, Su
.'

And the transference chamber materialized
around them.

'
Zero
,' said the voice in Rico's head. He turned to
look outside. The helicopter, which had all the
while been hovering, speared by searchlights –
someone on the ground had finally had their
curiosity piqued by the machine hovering beyond
the cliffs – suddenly lurched to one side and
banked down towards the hotel.

He turned back to his new friend.

'They've gone,' he said.

Alan was gazing around him in confusion. 'Why
are you still here, then?'

And Rico suddenly realized the former correspondent
hadn't quite understood after all.

'I'm sorry. The
helicopter
was at the recall point,'
he said. 'Now they're back, they'll send a field to
these co-ordinates to pick the rest of us up.'

'How long?'

'Could be thirty seconds, could be five minutes
. . .'

Alan filled his lungs. 'Guards!' he bellowed.

Rico looked at him in shocked dismay. 'But . . .'

'You and the youngsters can go,' Alan said
quietly as the doors burst open. 'But the equipment
stays.' Then: 'You!' to the cohort of guards that had
just come in. 'Get that gear out of here, now. Get it
as far away from here as you can. Now! Move!'

Rico leaped to stand between the advancing
guards and the cowering Jontan and Sarai.

'I'm sorry,' he said, 'I can't possibly let you do
that.'

'Stun that idiot,' Alan said.

'Shut your eyes!' Rico shouted in the Home
Time tongue, for the benefit of the kids, and
squeezed his own tightly closed as he did.
Full
radiance
, he symbed at his fieldsuit, and at once he
was transformed into a man-shaped blazing white
sun. Men yelled as the white light showed red
through his eyelids, and when he opened them
again it was to see the guards staggering back,
hands covering their faces.

And Alan, looking at him. Either the former
correspondent had also obeyed Rico's command or
his enhanced eyes had been able to cope with the
light, but the effect was the same.

A dropped stunner lay between them.

Rico met Alan's direct, calculating gaze.

A pause.

'There's no need . . .' he said and Alan moved –
fast, a blur, towards the stunner. Rico was too slow
to get there first but not to get there before Alan
could raise it. He leaped at the correspondent's
gun arm; Alan swatted him casually off and sent
him flying across the room.

Rico landed in a crouch and raised an arm at
Alan. His fieldsuit let loose a full stun charge, and
the correspondent's body absorbed it without
effort. Rico sprang forward and caught Alan in a
tackle around the waist, bringing him to the floor
by sheer momentum. Rico sat on top of his prone
rival and used the moment of shock to grab both
his opponent's wrists and pull them behind his
back, before Alan could use his correspondent's
strength to pull them apart again. He locked his
hands over the crossed wrists and told the fieldsuit
to freeze itself in that position. Alan lay face down,
not even breathing heavily but straining at his
bonds.

'Listen,' Rico said urgently, 'you've got to—'

'Over here,' Alan called. His face was pressed
into the floor but he could see across the room with
one eye. Rico turned his head to follow the line of
sight. A guard – still blinking, tears still streaming
down his face – had retrieved his stunner and was
waving it about uncertainly.

'More to the right – that's it! – down a bit . . .'

The stunner was pointing directly at them.

'. . . And
fire
!'

And as his body twisted under the stun charges
for the second time that day, Rico felt the recall
field take hold of him, and this time his closing
thoughts were of satisfaction.

But when he awoke some hours later, he was still
in the twenty-first century.