Simon Hawke: The Timekeeper Conspiracy

"Don't hold your breath."

"Well, if they send you out to the Belt, I'll go along and keep you company. I can put in for a transfer."

"Don't be an ass."

"Why not? How bad can it be? The duty's less hazardous and it would sure beat hell out of the lab job I left behind to re-enlist. Besides, we go back a long way together. All the way to 1194, to be exact."

Finn smiled, recalling the adjustment in 12th-century England. He nodded. "Yeah, that was a hell of a mission, wasn't it? We almost didn't make it back."

"We did make it back, though," Lucas said. "And we were in a worse fix than you're in now."

"Maybe. Hooker never made it back, though. And Johnson bought it, too." He tossed back his whiskey. "Hell, I must be getting old. I'm turning into a maudlin drunk."

Lucas pushed back his chair and stood up. Finn glanced at him, then turned to see Major Forrester approaching their table. He wasn't required to stand to attention in the presence of a superior officer in the lounge, but he made a determined effort, anyway. He was slightly more than halfway out of his chair when Forrester said, "At ease, gentlemen. As you were."

Lucas sat back down.

"Sorry, sir," said Finn. "I gave it my best shot, but I can't seem to feel my legs too good."

"I've got half a mind to cut 'em off for you, Delaney," Forrester said.

The old man hadn't changed. Antiagathic drugs made it difficult to accurately guess a person's age, but Forrester looked as old as Methuselah. Even his wrinkles had wrinkles. Yet Forrester stood ramrod straight and he was in better shape than most men under his command who were one-sixth his age. He had been their training officer in the field and Lucas knew only too well just how "old" the old man really was. He glanced at Lucas.

"You just get in, Priest?"

"Only just, sir. I was going to report to you in the morning."

Forrester nodded. "I knew you'd be back. There's nothing on the outside for a soldier." He sat down and ordered a drink. Both Finn and Lucas were glad that they had already started on their Irish whiskey. It meant that they had an excuse not to join the old man in his favorite libation. For some unfathomable reason, Forrester had picked up a taste for Red Eye. Of all the swill that he had downed during his temporal travels, Lucas hated that old west rotgut the most. Those oldtime gunfighters either had iron constitutions or a death-wish. The stuff could make a man go blind.

"I hope you haven't gone soft on me, Priest," said Forrester. "I just got a hot one dumped into my lap and I need to put a team together in a hurry, so I hope you haven't lost your edge."

"I'm ready, sir," said Lucas. "But what about Delaney? He's filled me in on the situation and if you don't mind my saying so, sending someone with his experience to the Belt would be a waste."

"Thanks, kid," said Delaney, "but you don't have to — "

"I agree with you," said Forrester. Finn's eyes widened in surprise. "He's insubordinate, but he's a hell of a good soldier."

"Thank you, sir," said Finn, taken aback by the compliment.

"Don't thank me, Mister. I'm just stating a simple fact. You're a good man in the field, but when you're between assignments, you've got the emotional stability of a ten-year-old. I'm all too well acquainted with your record. Well, you're under my command now and I'll only tolerate so much before I lose my temper. You've got a yardbird's temperament, Delaney, and if you get back from this mission, I'll beat it out of you if I have to."

Finn stared at him." You mean — ''

"I mean you've got a temporary reprieve," said Forrester. "You two have pulled off tough ones in the past. I don't like to break up a good team. You'll still have to get past that review board, assuming you'll make it back, but I've been talking to the officers who will be sitting on that board and I've been given to understand that if you do well on this one, they'll take that fact into consideration. So it's up to you to pull your own fat out of the fire. But if you screw up on me again, I'll personally drag your ass down to a plate and clock you out to the Paleolithic Age. You should fit right in. You'll be able to brawl to heart's content with all the other Neanderthals."

"You've made your point, sir," said Delaney. "And thanks."

"Just get the job done, Delaney. That'll be thanks enough for me."

"Any idea what it is, sir?" Lucas said.

"None whatsoever," Forrester said. "But this one's got full priority. I can't say that I like the arrangements, though. You'll be loaned out to the agency for this one."

"The TIA?" said Lucas. "That's a bit unusual, isn't it, sir? They don't normally use outsiders."

"No, they don't," said Forrester. "That's why I know that it's a hot one. If Temporal Intelligence figures they need help, it's got to be a bad one."

"I'm not crazy about working under some spook," said Finn. "Those guys are a bunch of psychos, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you," said Forrester. "And for your information, you've got those psychos to thank for saving your bacon. They specifically requested the team that pulled off the 1194 adjustment. Or what's left of it, anyway. And that's you two."

"I suppose we should be flattered," Finn said. He raised his glass and toasted Lucas. "Welcome back to active duty, kid. Looks like you've got perfect timing."

"While we're on that subject," Forrester said, "I wouldn't make it a late one if I were you. The mission briefing is at 0700, so get some rest. You're clocking out tomorrow." He pushed his chair back and stood up. "Enjoy your drinks, gentlemen."

Lucas grimaced. "Hey, Finn," he said, "what was that you said about 'hurry up and wait'?"

Delaney poured himself another shot. "I don't know," he said. "What was it you said about 'You can always get in deeper'?"

Lucas tilted his glass toward Finn. "Cheers."

Finn raised his own glass. "Confusion to the French."

The briefing took place in a secured area on the sixty-second level of the TAC-HQ building. Normally, this was a floor occupied by the administrative personnel working directly under the local office of the Referee Corps, but this morning they had all been assigned to other office space, on other floors. There was no one allowed on the sixty-second level who had not been cleared and checked through by the TIA. They had taken over the floor the previous night and even while Finn and Lucas sat drinking in the lounge, agents had been securing the area, failsafing it against surveillance.

Finn and Lucas walked together down the empty corridor, having been checked through by the agents at the lift tube.

"These people give me the creeps," said Finn.

"You might as well get used to it," said Lucas. "This is going to be their ballgame."

"Oh, I'll get used to it," said Finn, "but I won't like it."

They came to the briefing room and were checked through again, their papers verified and their retinal patterns scanned for positive identification.

"Bunch of paranoid assholes," mumbled Finn.

Forrester was waiting for them in the briefing room, along with a referee, one other man, and a woman seated at a desk terminal.

"Gentlemen, please be seated," said the referee. He waited until they had taken chairs and until one of the agents outside brought them coffee.

"That was thoughtful," said Lucas.

"I'll wait until you taste it first," said Finn.

"All right," said the referee. "Let's begin, shall we?"

"Sir?" said Lucas.

"Captain?"

"Aren't we missing some people? Like, the rest of the team?"

"No, Captain, we're not."

"You mean, we're it?"

"Not exactly, Captain. I don't know how much Major Forrester told you, but this is a TIA affair. You'll be on loan to the agency for the duration. We have an adjustment on our hands, or a potential one, at any rate. It's a unique situation, one in which the functions of the TIA and those of the corps overlap. Frankly, they're more qualified to handle this one, but as the case could develop into an adjustment, they've requested commandos to supplement their effort. Your role in this mission will be defined as you go along, but it will be defined by the agency. Therefore, I am turning this briefing over to Mr. Darrow, of the TIA."