Simon Hawke: The Timekeeper Conspiracy

It made him wonder about his own stability. It also made him wonder if there had really been a choice for him at all.

They had, predictably, assigned him to the Time Commandos as a result of that last mission. His commission was in Major Forrester's First Division, an elite unit assembled for the express purpose of dealing with threats to temporal continuity. Being an officer in the First Division entitled him to certain perks, such as free transportation anywhere in Plus Time and luxurious billeting in the bachelor officer's quarters at TAC-HQ. But hand in hand with special privileges went special risks. Though he was in a higher pay scale now, the odds of his not living to collect his pay had gone up correspondingly. Standard missions had scared him half to death before and now his assignments would almost certainly all be adjustments. It was a far more lethal proposition now.

"So how come I'm not shaking like a leaf?" Lucas mumbled.

"Sir?" The driver turned around briefly.

"Nothing, Corporal. Just thinking out loud." Lucas finished his cigarette and threw the butt away. Leaning back against the seat again, he sighed and closed his eyes. Oh, well, he thought, at least I won't be bored.

The shuttle dropped him off in front of the headquarters building of the Temporal Army Command. As he rode the lift tube up to TAC-HQ, he watched the bustle of activity in the plaza far below. He carried no luggage, nothing in the way of personal possessions. The few material possessions he had accumulated during his brief return to civilian life had all been left behind in his conapt, a bequest to some future tenant. From now on, his life would once again consist of necessities picked up in the PX, issued field kits, and following orders. Paradoxically, he felt marvelously free.

It felt strange to be saluted in the corridors. As a noncom, Lucas had never insisted on military protocol, or as most soldiers called it, "mickey mouse." It was an age-old expression and no one seemed to know where it had come from. Lucas had once queried the data banks on it, only to discover that the information was classified.

The First Division lounge was a small bar and it was almost empty, so Lucas spotted Delaney at once. He was sitting all alone at a table by a window, hunched over his drink. He had lost some weight and the thick red hair had been shaved, but as Lucas approached the table, he saw that at least one thing hadn't changed. Delaney still could not hold onto a promotion.

"Well, that commission didn't last long, did it?" Lucas said, eying Finn's armband, emblazoned with the single chevron of a Pfc.

"Priest! Good God!"

Lucas grinned. "That's Captain Priest to you, Mister."

Delaney got to his feet and they shook hands warmly, then hugged, clapping each other on the back. Finn held him at arm's length, his beefy hands squeezing Lucas's biceps.

"You look good, kid," he said. "But I thought you'd mustered out."

"I did. I re-enlisted."

"Whatever happened to that burning desire for the easy civilian life?" said Finn.

Lucas shrugged. "It burned out, I guess."

Finn chuckled. "I might've known you'd screw up on the outside."

"At least I've managed to hang onto my bars," said Lucas, glancing at the silver insignia on his armband. "You seem to have misplaced yours."

"Hell, you may be an officer now," said Finn, "but you'll always be a grunt at heart. That's how it is when you come up the hard way. I'm damned glad to see you, Lucas. Welcome back."

"I'm glad to see you, too, Finn. What're you drinking?"

"What else?"

"Irish whiskey? Good, I'm buying. I see you've already got a sizable head start. Look, I'm not due to report in until 0600. If you've got nothing better to do than sit and drink, what say we have a few and then go out on the town?"

Finn grimaced. "I'd love to, kid, but I can't. I'm under house arrest."

"What? What for?"

"Striking a superior officer," said Finn.

"Again? How many times does that make, four?"

"Six," said Finn, wryly. "The ref made a point of reminding me."

"They brought you up before a referee for that!" said Lucas. "Who'd you hit, a general?"

"A light colonel," said Finn.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but why?"

"Because he was a pompous military asshole, that's why," said Finn. "I had my blouse unbuttoned in the officer's club. And this runt of an administration desk jockey starts chewing me out about it. I told him to fuck off, so he sticks his face about two inches from my nose and starts screaming, spraying me with spit. So I just popped him one."

"And they dragged you up before a referee?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. That happened after the fracas with the M.P. s."

"What fracas?"

"Oh, you know, the standard bullshit. Resisting arrest, direct disobedience to a specific order, striking officers in the performance of their duty, damaging government property, and a few other things that they tacked on that I can't remember."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So I'm confined to quarters until further notice. The old man's been nice enough to give me some slack there, which is why I'm here, but I can't so much as go near the lift tubes. I've been cooling my heels for the better part of a week, waiting for the review board to meet. Been spending most of my time right here in the lounge, trying to drink up my back pay. It's kind of funny, actually. Remember the old days, when we scarcely had a moment to ourselves between assignments? Now that we're here in this 'elite' unit, it's nothing but hurry up and wait."

"You said the ref put you down for a review board," Lucas said. "What was the ref's recommendation?"

Finn grunted. "She was a real hard-assed bitch. Read me the riot act about all the 'previous irregularities' in my record. I think her exact words were, 'Perhaps you'd be better off in a nontemporal unit. Someplace where your flamboyant tendencies won't be quite so much of a disruptive influence.' You know what that means, don't you?"

"The Belt Command?"

"I'll lay you eight to one," said Finn. "If I could get my hands on a plate, so help me, I'd skip out to the underground."

"Not so loud, friend," Lucas said. "Somebody might hear you."

"Who gives a shit? I don't see how I could possibly be in any deeper than I am now."

"You can always get yourself in deeper," Lucas said. "It's the getting out that's not so easy. Maybe something can be done."

"Like what?"

Simon Hawke

The Timekeeper Conspiracy

"I don't know. But at least they haven't reassigned you yet."

Finn scratched his head. "Hell. I had to go and hit that asshole. They've probably fixed his jaw by now and he's back pushing papers, while I'm going to get stuck out in the Asteroid Belt, keeping those crazy miners from killing each other. You know, I might've expected just about anything, but somehow I never thought I'd wind up as a policeman."

He looked out through the giant window that was the outside wall of the First Division lounge. It was dark outside and all the buildings were lit up, bathing the plaza far below in a garish glow. The skycabs threading through the maze of buildings made the night a sea of red and amber running lights. The window shut out all the noise, rendering the scene outside into a silent ballet of light and steel.

"Doesn't look real somehow, does it?" Finn said as he continued gazing out the window. "I really hate it here, you know that? I was born into this time and yet I don't belong to it."

Lucas smiled. "You're a romantic, Finn."

Finn snorted. "I'm a soldier, kid, that's all."

"Look, nothing's settled yet, right? The board still makes the final disposition."

"When's the last time you heard of a review board going against a ref's recommendation?" Finn said.

"There's always a first time."