Read Time's Chariot Online

Authors: Ben Jeapes

Time's Chariot (7 page)

'Who was this Op, anyway?' Marje said with a
sudden surge of intuition.

'One Garron. Ri—'

'—co Garron,' said Marje, shutting her eyes. She
had just about got him out of her mind.

'So you do know him?'

'No! I mean, I've met him once, for about a
minute. I could probably walk past him in the
corridor without recognizing him again. And I
certainly haven't made a complaint about him.'
Ario still looked sceptical. 'I haven't!'

'In that case, Marje, someone in your office is
taking your name in vain,' Ario said. Marje cast her
mind back to all the people who would have known
about that brief meeting – and found there was
only one. A cold anger welled up inside her.

Marje was already annoyed, and was made more so
by the fact that Hossein Asaldra could only blink as
she gave vent to her feelings. From his typical
expression of ennui there was no way of knowing
how much of it was getting through. It would probably
be the same even if he had been physically
present, instead of just being projected.

'If I want to reprimand someone, or even just
complain about them, I'm perfectly capable of
doing so!' she said. 'I don't need help or assistance
and I don't like my name being used without my
permission.'

'I was out of order.' Asaldra still sounded bored.
'I apologize.'

'You had no right to try and read my mind! That
Field Op has been reprimanded. Have you ever had
a reprimand on your record? Do you know how
difficult it is to get rid of it? People ask questions for
years afterwards . . .'

'I apologize,' Asaldra said again. It was probably
the best she was going to get. 'Perhaps I should
apologize to Op Garron too. Though if he hadn't
tried to masquerade as a Security Op, this wouldn't
be happening now.'

'No!' Marje could think of nothing likely to
offend Rico Garron more than a wearied, monotone
apology from Hossein Asaldra. 'No, don't
bother. The complaint came from this office so the
apology comes from me. And he wasn't
masquerading, he was there by appointment to
retrieve an item of equipment. He probably doesn't
want it docked from his pay. Had that occurred to
you?'

'As you will.' Asaldra seemed to dismiss the
subject for something he found far more interesting.
'If you've got a moment to project,
Commissioner, there's something I thought you
might like to see.'

Marje was infuriated by the complete lack of
interest shown in his change of subject. 'What?' she
snapped.

'Only something that could clear up a mystery
several centuries old. Are you interested?'

The cavern was still hazy with smoke, and the
technicians and Security Ops moving around in it,
studying the slagged remains of the equipment,
wore breathing gear. The eidolons of Marje and
Asaldra were unaffected.

'That's . . .' Marje said, gesturing at the object in
the centre of the cavern.

'It's a transference chamber, yes.' Asaldra
actually had a hint of excitement in his voice.
'Essentially the same as the type we use nowadays,
though the design is more basic.'

Marje looked around her. The walls were smooth
but still had the look of having been hacked out of
bedrock, and were lined with equipment. It reeked
of antiquity, if antiquity was the word – it couldn't
pre-date the College, and the College was only four
hundred years old. 'What is this place?' she said.

'I think it's where Morbern did his original
experiments.'

Marje let out a whistle. It made sense. Jean
Morbern had come to the Antarctic in the first
place because he wasn't sure how dangerous his
experiments might be to other people; going
underground as well would be one more sensible
precaution. 'And it's been running all this time?'

'Apparently. But all the machines were just
ticking over, and everyone thought the power was
being used by something else so no one ever
checked. All the tunnels to it were blocked off,
which helped.'

'What changed?' Marje said. She should be
getting back to work – she oughtn't to have time to
spare to investigate strange caverns that had
suddenly been discovered – but she was caught up
by the mystery nonetheless.

'This.' Asaldra indicated a nearby bank of equipment
which was still gently steaming. 'A sudden
power surge was picked up and Maintenance sent
some people to investigate. They found this place.
Something must have given and this meltdown
resulted.'

'That's some surge,' Marje said. 'Didn't Morbern
use a clever twenty-sixth century device called a
fuse?' Asaldra just shrugged. 'Well, there goes the
museum exhibit.'

'A lot of the equipment seems to be duplicated,'
Asaldra said. 'If the museums want a console that
Morbern sat at, there's plenty more left.'

'Hmm.' The suspicion growing in Marje's mind
was so inevitable she couldn't believe she had been
the first to have it. 'Hossein, could this equipment
have been used?'

'All College personnel are accounted for,' he
said. 'I checked.'

'They're all here?' Marje said sceptically.

'They are either in the Home Time or they left it
via an authorized chamber.'

'There are non-College personnel at the
College.' It was a ghastly thought, but it had to be
said. Non-College personnel, non-adherents to
Morbern's Code, unleashed on the past . . . a nightmare
scenario.

He paused. Perhaps that point hadn't occurred
to him. 'I don't think anyone else would have been
able to work it, Commissioner. Look at this.' Their
eidolons moved towards one of the panels. 'We're
all too used to asking the Register to set coordinates.
Could you work out how to do it
manually, this way? It would be difficult enough for
one of us, and for someone not trained in the
theory . . .' His gaze moved to a point behind her
and he drew himself up more smartly. 'Good day,
Commissioner.'

'Good day, Hossein,' said a man's voice. Marje
turned to see Yul Ario's eidolon standing there,
looking about him appreciatively. 'Quite a place
you've unearthed here.'

'Maintenance unearthed it, sir,' Asaldra said. 'I
just reported it.'

'Yes, why?' Marje said, suddenly curious.
Fascinating though it was, it was nothing to do with
her job, or Asaldra's. Asaldra looked artlessly at her.

'I thought you'd be interested,' he said.

'Quite right. This is history, Marje!' Ario threw
his arms wide to encompass the cavern. 'A capsule
of history right under the College, and we head the
College. Of course we had to know about it. Well
done, Hossein.' He squinted up at the ceiling.
'Speaking of under the College, which bit are we
under?'

'Residential and administrative. The Appalachian
consulate and various others,' Asaldra
said.

'Really? Well, I can see you've got everything
under control, Hossein,' Ario said. If he had
spoken to Marje in that patronizing tone, Marje
would have hit him, but it seemed to go down well
with Asaldra, who didn't show the least sign of
irritation. And the subject of irritating people led
Marje inevitably to think of Op Garron, so she
made her apologies and withdrew.

Marje had only met Garron once before, but still
she hadn't been entirely accurate when she had
told Ario she could pass the Field Op in the
corridor without recognizing him. In the eidolon
the blond stubbly hair and burning eyes hadn't
changed. It was satisfying to note that when she had
seen him in Daiho's apartment he had looked
smug; now he just looked wary.

'Yes?' he said.

'Acting Commissioner Orendal,' Marje said.

'Yes,' he said. 'I remember.' His voice was a lot
colder than it had been before.

'I hope this isn't a bad time to call?'

'I'm just off on a field trip.'

'I'll be quick, then. I owe you an apology, Op
Garron.'

That took him by surprise. 'Really?'

'I gather a complaint was made against you that
resulted in a reprimand. I'm sorry and I apologize
on behalf of my office. The complaint didn't come
from me.'

'Really?' Garron repeated. 'Could I ask who,
then, Commissioner?'

'An over-zealous subordinate. It won't happen
again.'

Garron didn't say anything but his expression
made clear his opinion of that particular promise.
'Is my record going to be altered?' he said
innocently.

The thought had occurred to Marje, but it was a
sad fact of office politics that such things didn't
happen. A really serious mistake would have led to
an enquiry, Asaldra's disciplining and the altering
of the record, but this sadly wasn't that serious and
Asaldra didn't deserve that level of rebuke. And the
system didn't allow for the correction of more
minor errors.

Op Garron, she suspected, knew all this perfectly
well, so she didn't answer the question. 'I'd like to
make up for it in some way,' she said.

'Well, you could find my computer . . .'

'You mean, you never did?'

'Didn't have time before Security kindly showed
me the way out. Some other Field Op will have it
now, and the data'll have been erased anyway.'

'Have you tried chasing it up?'

'I keep checking at the wrong time. All I ever get
is a "that item is not presently located in the Home
Time", any time of day or night. I can take a hint.'

'I'll find it for you,' Marje promised. 'That's the
least I can do.'

Garron still looked unimpressed. 'Can I go now,
Acting Commissioner?'

'If you like.' Marje was struck by inspiration,
remembering her conversation with the other
Commissioners about sponsors. 'Listen, it's possible
I'm going to make patrician, and I'll have vacancies
for sponsorship . . .'

She almost flinched at the sheer hate in his
expression. 'Thank you, that won't be necessary,'
he said. 'Out.' He vanished.

Well, up yours too, Op Garron
, she thought bitterly.
So much for trying to help. She half stood, then sat
down again. No, she would find that computer. She
had decided she would help Garron, and
she would, and if he got even more annoyed then
so much the better.

She didn't know when Garron had had the
computer, so she symbed into the College records.

'Request number of field computers signed out
by both Field Op Rico Garron and Commissioner
Li Daiho in the last month.'

'
There is one field computer matching that criterion
,'
said the voice of Records.

'Request its present location.'

'
That item is not presently located in the Home Time.
'

'To whom is it signed out?'

'
Commissioner Li Daiho
.'

'Commissioner Daiho is dead.'

'
Commissioner Daiho was the last individual to sign
the computer out
.'

'So where is it?'

'
That item is not presently located in the Home Time
.'

'Request details of the last transference involving
that computer.'

'
That computer has not been involved in a transference
since Field Op Garron returned it to Stores
.'

'So where is it?'

'
It is not presently located in the Home Time
.'

'This is ridiculous.' Marje realized she was
pacing about the room, and she made herself stop.
There was a way of breaking this loop . . . but no,
surely it was abuse of power . . .

But she was a Commissioner, so . . .

'Register, please,' she said.

The Register's eidolon appeared in front of her,
looking quizzical. It was outlined in blue to show it
was a projection of an artificial personality, and the
appearance it took was of a middle-aged white
male. It was as Jean Morbern had looked at the
height of his career. 'Marje?' it said.

'Register, I'm sorry to use you for such a trivial
matter . . .'

The Register smiled. 'You're a Commissioner.
Rank has its privileges.'

'I thought I'd use them,' Marje said, relieved.
'I'm tracing a computer signed out recently by Li
Daiho and Field Op Garron.'

'Records can't help?'

'You try it!' Marje said with feeling.

'If you like.' The Register paused for half a
second. 'I see your point. How annoying.'

'So where's it got to?'

'I have no idea. Records would try and trace it
through the symb network. It's not responding to
the signal, so it must be faulty. It was last seen with
Commissioner Daiho, so perhaps you should check
his things. His apartment has been reallocated but
his effects will have been stored.'

'That's been tried,' Marje said.

'By Op Garron. I know – I gave him the
authorization. But that is all I can suggest.'

Then Marje remembered. Garron had indeed
been there, but he had said,
didn't have time
.

'Where are the things stored?' she said.

'Here at the College.'

'Right,' Marje said. She knew how she could help
Garron and she was going to, whether he liked it or
not.

Seven

And then,' said Rico, 'just to really rub it in, she
offered me sponsorship.'

'Shocking,' said Su.

Looking like a man and woman of the reasonably
prosperous merchant classes, they strolled arm
in arm in the July sunshine along the footpath
beside the Danube Canal, through the Prater park
in the Vienna of 1508, capital of the Khanate of
Austria.

This was the gamma stream, one of several
parallel Earth histories inadvertently created by
Jean Morbern on his first trips into the past. The
alpha stream was the 'official' history, the one
Morbern would have recognized. In both alpha and
gamma, the Golden Horde of Batu Khan had overrun
eastern Europe in the thirteenth century. In
the gamma stream, they had stayed.

Here, Paulus Khan, many-times great grandson
of the original Genghis, was the latest Khan to hold
sway over the Khanate of Austria. The new empire
was a happy blend of east and west, having made its
peace with the Christians, and Rico and Su were
often chosen for missions to this particular time: a
Caucasian and an Asian together, apparently
husband and wife, would raise no eyebrows. No one
would have guessed that her flowing robes and
scarf, his tunic and breeches weren't the work of
the best tailors of the city but were imitations
wrought by the gelfabric of their fieldsuits.

By this world's twentieth century, the College
would be openly running the place. Eventually
it would take over all the worlds. After the creation
of the Home Time in the twenty-sixth century, they
would all be spliced back into the alpha stream and
the populations of all the streams merged. But that
was a long time in anyone's future. For now, the
people of the College kept their heads down.

'I mean,' Rico said, 'insult or what?'

'Terrible,' Su said.

'She calls me up, she . . . yeah, OK, she says sorry,
that's good of her, but then—'

'Appalling,' said Su.

Her tone was finally seeping through Rico's
indignation. 'Su, why do I think you're not taking
this seriously?'

'I don't know. Why do you think I'm not taking
this seriously?'

'You're not, are you?'

Su smiled sweetly and nodded at a couple passing
in the other direction, then turned her head to
glare at him. 'A Commissioner of the College
contacts you, off her own bat, and apologizes for a
wrong that was done to you, and offers to find your
precious computer, and offers you something that
others would kill for, and you're angry with her?'

'Well . . .' Rico suddenly became aware of how
ephemeral his indignation was and became doubly
resolved to hang on to it. 'She thought she could
buy me off that way.'

'No, she didn't.' Su jabbed a finger into his chest
to punctuate each word. 'She was trying to help
you!'

'Ow.' Rico rubbed his sternum resentfully.

'Your record probably doesn't mention that
you're the prickliest man on Earth so she couldn't
have known that. She doesn't know a thing about
you and in the absence of a large sign saying "I've
got a massive chip on my shoulder" she made the
mistake of treating you like someone normal. Like
herself, really.'

Rico was silent for some seconds. 'So what do I
do, then?'

'Apologize to her. You don't have to do it face to
face, you can leave her a message. Thank her for
her generous offer, tell her that it's really
appreciated but it's not necessary. And don't sound
like you're saying it by rote, try and put some meaning
into it.'

'Right.' Another pause. 'This generous offer
thing – are we talking computers or sponsorship
here?'

'You let her work that out.'

'Oh.'

A symbed chime sounded in both their minds,
and Su pulled a face. 'Work, work, always work.
Come on, let's go.'

They walked towards the Innere Stadt, using the
spire of Saint Stephen's Cathedral as their guide
through the narrow and irregular streets. The
inner city of Vienna enfolded them. It felt odd to be
surrounded by buildings so small and yet so
crowded.

The bulk of the cathedral loomed over them.
The Bishop there no doubt thought he was master
of all he surveyed, second only to the Khan: he had
no idea that one of his junior priests was the Home
Time superintendent for the area.

Superintendent Adigun exuded his usual
bonhomie to such an extent that his moustache
quivered when they entered his front room in one
of the small cottages in the cathedral's shadow.
'How are you? How are you?' he said, as if he hadn't
seen them two hours ago. 'Did you enjoy your
inspection?'

'Everything is satisfactory,' Su said formally,
though the inspection hadn't taken long. Her
powers only extended to checking that none of the
bygoners were being abused in any way and that
basic health and safety regulations (very basic, in
this period) were being observed. After that, it was
just a case of carrying the latest set of figures back
to the Home Time for the Social Studies department
to fuss over. Less formally, she added, 'You
run a good establishment, Superintendent.'

Adigun beamed. 'I'm glad to hear you say that,
I really am. Are you sure I can't offer you
something?'

'The recall field comes on in fifteen minutes,
Superintendent.'

'Of course, of course. I suppose you'll both be at
the Union Day ball? Lucky things, can't have one
here, of course, the bygoners will notice . . . let me
get you those figures. Must observe the protocols,
eh?' He peered into the next room. 'Sanja? That
little gem I showed you, could you bring it . . . ?'

Sanja was a bygoner and she glided into the
room under Adigun's approving gaze. Her hand
brushed the Superintendent's when she handed
the crystal with the figures over; Adigun's slightly
glazed look followed her out of the room and it
seemed to Rico that no, the Bishop would
not
approve.

He raised an eyebrow at Su; she pursed her lips
but shook her head slightly. Disapproved of, but
not illegal, and not something she as Senior Field
Op could rightly include in her report. But she
could make it known that Adigun let his bygoner
woman play with data crystals and make out that
they were jewellery. Social Studies could perhaps
draw their own conclusions.

Superintendent Adigun, Rico decided, was an
out and out bastard, however pleasant and affable
he might appear. He would only be a few years in
this job before moving on to something else,
probably nice and cushy and secure back in the
Home Time. And was there any question of Sanja
coming to the Home Time? Nor did Adigun look
the type to volunteer for mind-blanking and resettlement
in the gamma stream. He was playing
with the woman.

'Enact symb,' said Adigun, tuning his mind into
the local symb junction that would be hidden somewhere
in his house – isolated from the Home Time
symb network, barely more than a poor, crippled
relative, useful only for managing such data as was
available to it. After a couple of seconds he handed
the crystal to Su.

'All updated with my latest reports. Social
Studies will find it interesting,' he said, and proceeded
to hurl fact after statistic at them. Rico tried
to look interested and Su held up a hand.

'We're just couriers, Superintendent. We'll pass
this on, don't worry. Good day, it's been
interesting.'

Rico could contain it no longer. 'You're sitting
pretty,' he said, just as Su turned to go.

'I beg your pardon?' said Adigun.

'Lord of all you survey.' Rico tilted his head in
the direction Sanja had gone. '
Droit de seigneur
, I
think it was called back home. Maybe there's a word
for it in Mongol-German.'

'Rico . . .'
That
tone was back in Su's voice but he
ignored it. He took a step forward.

'We're here to observe, Superintendent Adigun,'
he said. 'Observe, not break hearts. Does Miss
Bygoner know you plan to vanish from her life in a
couple of years?'

'I really think you're out of order.' All good
humour had vanished from Adigun's expression.
'You have about ten minutes until the recall field
comes on. Use it, Op . . . ?'

'Garron. Rico Garron.'

'Rico Garron.' Adigun's eyes widened. 'Weren't
you—' He chuckled. 'I don't think you can afford
to get into trouble, Op Garron. Why don't you leave
now?'

'Rico, what am I going to do with you?' Su said
quietly as they headed back to the recall point, a
patch of clear ground outside the city walls, hidden
by trees.

'It just happens,' Rico muttered.

'The supervisor in beta-Rome . . . and now
this.'

'What else was I suppose to do? Su, we're meant
to protect bygoners, we're meant to uphold the
Code . . .'

'You leave well alone, Rico, and let me pass on
any complaint through official channels.'

'Would you?'

Su was quiet for a moment. 'Probably not,' she
said.

'See? See?'

'Rico, he's a
superintendent
, which means he's
senior to us and he's probably got better sponsorship.
Anyway, I've never understood women who
can't see through creatures like him. They deserve
everything they get. If Tong tried to use me, I'd
know in about a nanosecond. Two, if he was clever
and got up early enough.' She symbed into her
field computer to access the crystal's data. 'Still and
all, Rico, he's a good administrator. Output's up, I
can tell that. And lots of gobbledegook which will
only mean something to Social Studies, but it looks
good.'

'I hope someone appreciates it.'

Su glanced thoughtfully back at the city. 'You
know, I wouldn't mind a job like his.'

'Lord and master and petty tyrant of a smelly
bygoner town back up the gamma stream?' Rico
said with disbelief.

'Not specifically, but with that level of skill and
challenge. Tong and I have been talking about this
a lot, Rico.'

'Talking about what?'

'Well, has it occurred to you that our
generation's unique?'

'How so?'

'There's a gap looming in the future and we've
no idea how it's going to be filled. How old will you
be in twenty-seven years, Rico?'

Twenty-seven years. The magic figure. The time
when the singularity that created the Home Time
was due to collapse and suddenly transference
wouldn't be possible any more.

He pulled a face. 'Old enough.'

'But not old enough for retirement. And what
job will you be doing in twenty-seven years and one
month, Rico?'

Rico trudged on in silence. 'I'll think of
something. It's quite a while,' he said.

'It pays to think ahead. That's all.'

'Whatever happens, I don't think it'll be a case of
life continuing as normal, minus the College. A
lot'll change, Su. You can't plan for that.'

'No harm in thinking about it,' she said. 'I just
want a job I
want
, rather than one that's allocated to
me. I'm thinking of applying for retraining.'

'Su!' Rico stopped in his tracks in genuine
dismay. Su laughed even more at the look on his
face.

'It'll be in my time off, Rico. But I don't want to
be a Senior Field Op until I drop, and sooner or
later I'm going to have to change jobs. And so are
you.'

'I like this one,' he muttered, but started walking
again.

The recall point was in a small glade in the
woods, quiet and unobserved. They stood there in
silence, waiting for the field to come on, and Rico
looked idly down at his shoes. There was mud on
them. The mechanics of transference had been
explained to him and he had sat through the
required courses on theory, but he had never
claimed to understand. He knew in principle that
the mud on his shoes would be transferred with
him but the ground he stood on would not be.
Somehow the universe knew that the mud, and the
food he had eaten in this time, and the air in his
lungs, and all that was closely associated with him
should be transferred with him. Everything
else should stay.

Somehow it happened. It worked – that was good
enough for him.

But a future without transference? Of course he
knew it was coming – who didn't? – but it was a bit
like death. It would happen, one day, but polite
people didn't talk about it.

He was still thoughtful back in the Home Time.
Su, as usual in her capacity as Senior Field Op,
declared the excursion over and they walked out of
the transference chamber, where they were greeted
with a recorded notification that Acting
Commissioner Orendal had logged a 'request and
require' order instructing any and all College
personnel to assist Field Op Garron in his search
for the computer. Attached to it was a symbed note
that it might be worth starting in the storeroom
where the effects of the late Commissioner Daiho
were kept.

Su told Rico to include a sincere-sounding
'thank you' with his apology.

'Guess what?' said Rico, straightening up from his
last pile and wincing as something clicked in
his back.

'What?' said Su, still going through a pile of her
own.

'It's not here.'

'You're right.' Su straightened up with him.
'That item really is not located in the Home Time.'
They stood side by side and gazed at the junk.

'This computer's more trouble than it's worth,'
said Rico. The storeroom was full of the remaining
unclaimed worldly goods of the late Commissioner
Li Daiho. There wasn't much, he thought without
enthusiasm, and he had better things to do than
rummage through the remains of a man's life.
Daiho had been in his seventies and a patrician: he
had lived long and well, and this was all that was
left. Bits and pieces, odds and ends. But Marje
Orendal had been right – if the field computer,
College property, was still in Daiho's possession at
the time of death, this was where it would be.

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