Simon Hawke - The Six Gun Solution

“That much is obvious.” Darkness replied. “However, that isn’t what you’re asking, is it? You want to know if I’m your counterpart from the future, if I’ve been specifically sent back here on a mission or if I’m working on my own. And that’s something I’m not in a position to tell you. I can’t stop you speculating, of course, but I can assure you that it would be pointless. It really makes no difference, either way”

“Damn it, Doc, you’ve got to tell us more than that!” exclaimed Delaney. with exasperation. “What happens in the future, where you came from? Does it happen because of something we did, or something we didn’t do?”

For a moment. Darkness did not reply. He seemed to be considering. Finally, he sighed. “It really was unfortunate that Forrester discovered the truth about me. I should have anticipated that, only I didn’t. I underestimated his resourcefulness. As a result, without meaning to, he’s endangered my mission. That’s why I had to tell him that I would have no further contact with him. It would have been too dangerous. If you hadn’t known… only you do know. And that knowledge could affect your actions. A moment’s doubt or hesitation at the crucial time…

He drained his glass and set it down on the table.

“I can tell you this much,” he said. “Nothing that you have done-and I’m speaking from a future perspective, of course-served to bring about what I’m trying to prevent. However, you are going to be in a position where you will be able to do something to significantly alter the scheme of events in the future. I have seen to that you were chosen very carefully. Telling you much more at this stage would be risky. You are approaching a key focal point in time. And when that time comes, you must do exactly as I say. Without even a second’s hesitation I had tried to improve your odds for success with those particle level implants that I gave you, but unfortunately. I was unable to perfect them and they ultimately failed. Perhaps that was my fault, perhaps it was the influence of the Fate Factor. It’s like trying to swim against the current. I’m struggling to overcome temporal inertia at almost every turn.”

“Like when I was supposed to die back in Afghanistan?” asked Lucas, softly. “What really happened, Doc? Did you change history? Was that Ghazi sniper supposed to kill me?”

Dr Darkness gazed at him steadily. “No.” he said.

“But then, how-”

“That sniper was not a Ghazi.” Darkness said. “And he was not supposed to be there.”

“What?” said Lucas. “Are you saying that…”

But suddenly, the chair was empty. Darkness had simply disappeared. Except for the empty whiskey glass standing on the table, it was as if he’d never been there.

Neilson clocked back into Tombstone shortly before dawn. P.R.T. (Present Relative Time). He had been gone slightly longer than twelve hours, but only three minutes had elapsed in 19th-century Tombstone since he had left. He had “gained” a day, a phenomenon of time travel that was one of the most difficult things fin rookie temporal agents to grow accustomed to. They would depart upon a mission to the past, or Minus Time, and could be gone for days or weeks or months or even years, yet when they returned, often no more than several hours had passed. And duty spent in Plus Time, or in the 27th century, was all that counted toward the completion of an enlistment period. This was always made very clear to new recruits, but the consequences of it were often overlooked, Since there were two different pay scales in the service-one for duty served in the present and one for time spent in the past, with the latter being far more lucrative. The pay scale for Temporal Observers, for example, was higher than that found in almost any other career, and if one was able to avoid the hazards of the duty and survive to complete his tour of enlistment, he could retire a very wealthy man.

But it was not, by any means, a route to easy street. As Neilson had already discovered. It was an exciting way to make a living, but it was highly dangerous. as well. Most temporal agents found that they had to leave their former. civilian lives completely behind them. After Neilson had returned from his first assignment to the past, he had taken some leave and gone back to Tucson to visit his family and his girl. It had been a shock to them to discover how much he had changed. For them, from the time he had gone off to join the service to the time he returned from his first tour of Observer duty in the past, only a month or so had elapsed. For Scott, it had been four years. Four years in which he had grown immeasurably older and more experienced He had found it difficult to connect with them. His girl, whom he had loved with all the fierce intensity of youth, had suddenly seemed immature and superficial. And the concerns of his family seemed suddenly irrelevant to him. He was still his mother’s little boy.” but he had returned a man and found that she could not snake the adjustment Since then, he had not gone back home again. It was a different time and place

As he reappeared inside his room in the Grand Hotel, it looked no different than when he had left, about twelve hours earlier. Only minutes had passed here. The outline of Jennifer’s head was still impressed into the pillow. He gazed at the rumpled sheets on the bed and thought about her. He found those thoughts disturbing.

It was hard to believe she was a prostitute. He was not naive about the subject. He was in the service, he’d been with prostitutes before. Only this had been different. He’d only had a couple of experiences with hookers and, at first, there had been a sort of illicit thrill to it, but it was a thrill that was very short-lived. He knew that some men liked going with prostitutes because it was easy, uncomplicated sex, coupled with a sort of sleazy thrill, but he had found it frustrating and unsatisfying. He’d heard it said that prostitution victimized women because it made them into objects, but in another sense, it also victimized those who patronized them-to the hookers, they were objects, too. There was really no personal connection. It was, in many respects, a lot like masturbating. He had found it even less satisfying, because there was another human being involved, yet there was no real emotion, no affection, no genuine desire or intimacy. And when it was over, he was left with an empty feeling.

Only with Jennifer, it had been different. He had expected a relatively quick coupling, with little or no foreplay, and with her making all the obligatory expressions and sounds of sexual passion, only it had not turned out that way. It had started with that damn calico dress. It made her look like something out of Little Women, for God’s take, demure and innocent. The moment they entered the room, he had expected her to start stripping in a matter-of-fact way, only she hadn’t done that. She had approached him rather shyly, put her hands upon his shoulders and stood on tiptoe to kiss him softly on the lips. It was a hesitant, gentle kiss, almost chaste. They had exchanged several kisses like that, very brief and tentative, and then she had sighed as he pressed her against him and started undoing the buttons on the back of her dress.

In bed, he had marveled at the soft, lithe suppleness of her, the flawless, creamy skin, the gentle curves, the silky texture of her hair… They spent almost half an hour languorously exploring one another’s bodies, kissing and caressing and whispering endearments to each other, and when they moved beyond the foreplay and started making love, that too had been nothing like what he’d expected. There were no melodramatics; rather there had been a genuine, loving intimacy that took him completely unprepared. He could not believe she was that good an actress. He had climaxed quickly, carried away by the intensity of his feelings, yet she had not gotten out of bed to use the washbasin, dressed and gone away. Instead, she had lingered, and they had held each other and talked, and then they made love once more, and the second time, as she reached orgasm, she had cried out softly and wept real tears. She left shortly before dawn, after hugging him and holding him close for a long time, and it was only after she had gone that he had realized she had never even mentioned money.