Eric Flint - Time spike

Because he looked away, he saw the expressions on the faces of Boyne and the other Boomers. They were staring at their boss, with their eyes almost bulging. Who would've guessed he was this much of a ladies' man? "Does anyone know the location of the nearest jewelry store?" Brown asked brightly. She finally took her eyes off Cook and looked up at the other men standing around. Still smiling from ear to ear, even if the smile didn't have the same laser intensity. "We need engagement rings. Mr. Cook proposed to me in the course of our little journey, and I accepted." "Well, Jesus," said John Boyne. "Jesus H.

Christ." He shook his head, as if clearing away confusion, and looked at Cook. "Is that true, boss?" Cook was still looking at Brown.

"Yeah," he said. Then, like a startled rabbit, he looked up at his lieutenant. "By God, it is true." With Cook, of course, sentimental moments couldn't be expected to last long. Less than a minute later, he was back on his feet. Back in charge, with that inscrutable Injun look on his face. He and Danny studied each other for a moment. "Which way are you going?" Danny asked. "I don't know." Cook looked down at the girl on the litter. "Elaine?" She seemed uncertain. "Well, it's hard to explain easily. The directions I have are a little complicated." "Never mind the complications," Danny said. "Which waynow?" "Oh." She pointed a finger at one section of the woods.

Which didn't look any different from any other. "That way." "Fine.

Then I think it's best if we head the other way. We don't have a specific destination in mind, so it really doesn't matter." Danny gave Cook a little salute and started to turn. But a stray and ridiculous thought bloomed into focus. Maybe not so ridiculous. He hesitated.

What the hell. If nothing else, it was a little funny. Not much, but a little. And while it had seemed like a good idea, at the time, to bring a back-up pistol, he was loaded down heavy as it was. With each step he took, the idea seemed less and less bright. He drew the pistol from his waistband. With his left hand, not his right. Then, he shifted it so that he was holding it by the barrel instead of the grip. No point in setting off tight nerves at the very end. "Here, Cook." He extended the gun, butt first. "Take it. It's got a full clip." Cook came over, and took the gun. "Why?" he asked quietly.

"First, a deal. Give us ten minutes before you leave. I'd just as soon know we're well out of sight. It's not that I think you're a double-crosser, it's just…" "I understand. 'Good fences makes good neighbors,' as they say." Cook nodded. "No problem. You can have twenty. It'll take us that long to adjust the litter so it's comfortable for Elaine on a long trip. Second?" Danny shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not sure. But you never know. We might meet up again someday. If and when we do, remember this." For a few seconds after he was gone, James stared at the pistol Bostic had left behind. Boyne came over. "Funny damn thing for him to do." "He's thinking ahead, John," James said, almost musingly. "Way, way ahead." He understood, he thought, Bostic's plans. He wasn't thinking like a con. Most cons would go out there figuring to rob. Bostic was figuring to rule. Find some tribe of primitive Indians, kill or intimidate the existing leaders, and take over. So far, most hardened criminals could have followed the logic. But Bostic parted company with them here. He knew that a tribe-call it a gang, call it whatever-needed rules. They might be tough rules, for the ones on the bottom, but they were still rules.

Not caprice, not whimsy, not just whatever struck the Big Man's fancy come Tuesday morning or a spot of indigestion. Rules. Then, give it some time, he wouldn't have to watch his back every night and day.

He'd have men doing it for him, because they damn well thought it was the right thing to do. He was the chief-maybe, someday, even the king-not just a thug running things until a tougher thug could do him in. In the end, it had been that as much as James' threat that had kept him from taking Elaine. Whether the man understood it consciously or not, he'd sensed that starting his new life by breaking the rules would send him off at a tangent. The same reason he'd given James the gun. He didn't really need it, the Boomers sure as hell did-and he'd just laid the basis, maybe, for an alliance someday. A truce, at least. "Smart man," James murmured. "Hard and cold as nails, but smart. Even ethical, in his own way, if you're willing to stretch the term. Too bad he wasn't running the show instead of Luff." Boyne looked skeptical. "I dunno, boss. For all his fancy talk about honor among thieves, he double-crossed Williams, didn't he? In a heartbeat.

I betcha he shot him in the back, too." John was wrong, but explaining why would be difficult. It was a subtle matter, and James could only grope at the edges himself. That Danny Bostic had his ethics, he didn't doubt any longer. But they'd be razor thin, without any of the plush and comfortable padding that people in a law-abiding society gave each other. That was mandated by law, in fact. The way Bostic looked at things, Williams had double-crossedhim when his lust and stupidity had almost triggered off a deadly brawl. The moment he did that, Bostic would have removed the man's protection. He'd gone instantly fromone my loyal vassals toa problem to be removed. James smiled thinly. Removed his lord's grace, you might better call it.

Yes, it was too bad that Bostic hadn't been running the show instead of Luff. But James still wouldn't want to live under his rule. It'd be like walking on thin ice from dawn to dusk, and egg shells through the evening until the lord went to bed. But there was no point debating the matter with John. Not now, for sure. He shoved the pistol into his waistband. Later on, they'd have to figure out who was the best man to carry it. That wouldn't be James himself. He'd never been into guns, the way some people were. He knew how to use one, but that was about it. One of the Boomers was bound to be good with a pistol. He was a little startled, then, when he realized that he'd given no thought at all to keeping the gun just to make sure his authority wasn't challenged. He didn't need to. That was just a fact, by now. So thoroughly engrained that he hadn't even thought about it. He looked around, at his men. Three of the Boomers were fussing over Elaine, giving her water, asking her how she was. But it was the actions of loyal men tending to the lady, not guys angling for her themselves. He realized that he also hadn't given any thought at all to how the Boomers would react when they realized that the one and only woman among them had just been separated out-and by the boss himself. That could have easily triggered off deep resentment. Instead it had done the opposite. It seemed to settle them down a little. He knew his uncle had been wrong. There were lots of men behind bars, hiding the fact beneath animal masks. Boomer had known it too, on some level, and known how to select them. These were men who, deep down, wanted nothing so much as a place of their own. Being part of a society again instead of a pack of wolves that you had to watch every moment. You might sleep alone, at night, for a while. But at least you could sleep. This might be the best day of his life, he realized suddenly.

Between Elaine and this… It was sure as hell the best day since three cops showed up at his apartment one morning, with handcuffs and an arrest warrant. He'd forgotten what it was like to look forward to the future. Okay, it had dinosaurs in it too. Big fucking lizards. Who cared? He clapped his hands, quite cheerfully. "Okay, guys, listen up!

In twenty minutes, we're gone." He pointed at Elaine. "And we're going to need all twenty of them to get her ready. Her, not just the litter.

She has to be completely wrapped back up in the sheets. Head to toe, with just her face clear." He hesitated, torn between new-found anxiety and common sense. "Well, that's a little much. We should leave her hands and arms free too. And then we're going to have to move her very carefully, all the way along, making sure she doesn't ever get spilled out of the litter. We'll spell each other, carrying it, so nobody gets worn out." He looked at the ground cover he was standing on, which was nothing he recognized. "We've got no idea what's down there." Elaine frowned. "James, I'm not a porcelain doll. Okay, I'm not in great shape, but-" "I'm not worried about breaking you, sweetheart. I'm worried about infection. That wound hasn't really healed yet, I don't think. I'm not positive and I can't be, without taking off the bandage. Which is the very, very last thing I'm going to do. Right the way it is, it's the best protection you've got."