All the Colors of Time (4 page)

“We’re not talking about the whole military here, Judy,”
said Oslovski. “Just a group of very powerful men who . . . who
may be having difficulty facing reality. Unfortunately, this group is at the
top of the chain of command. I can arrange for a transfer,” she added gently. “If
you want to opt out now, you can.”

Judy took a deep breath. “No. No, this project has been my
life for four years. I can’t just get up and leave. And I don’t want to see it
used to kill. Besides, my father would be ashamed of me if I ran out in the
middle of it all.”

Oslovski nodded. “Vahid?”

“I’m scared,” he said.

“We’re all scared,” said Oslovski. “The question is, do we
stand around and shake and shiver, or do we do something about it?”

“I’d like to do something,” admitted Vahid.

“Right.” Oslovski let out a pent up breath. “Now, given the
situation, what do we do?” She looked at the group around the table.

“We could send the General and his people back to the
Cretaceous and leave them there,” suggested Trevor.

“Be real,” said Shiro. “We don’t even know if we
can
penetrate the Cretaceous.”

“Seriously. Can’t we strand them someplace—I mean, some
time?”

Shiro shook her head. “That would be as immoral in its own
way as what they might be planning. Besides, they might manage to change the
course of evolution or something.”

Louis Manyfeather sat forward in his seat. “What if
we
go back in time and make sure the
assassin is captured?”

Oslovski grimaced. “Tempting, but none of us is exactly
James Bond. Besides, that might change history just as effectively as a
successful assassination. We need to make as little impact as possible on what’s
already happened. We need to—to change the present to protect the past. Keep
them from going back at all, if possible.”

“We could lock up our data,” suggested George. “Tell them
what they’re asking is impossible.”

Oslovski nodded. “I thought of that. But remember, we’ve
already shifted back
past
their
target. The computers know that. I know you’re a talented programmer, George,
but you’d have to be the king of hackers to destroy all that data without
leaving a trail. Every activity log on every piece of equipment in the O.R.
will call us liars if anyone develops a sense of curiosity. Besides that, who’s
to say they won’t just go elsewhere for the expertise?”

“But that would take years,” said Louis.

“The net result would be the same, don’t you see?” asked
Oslovski. “Time is no object. No matter how long they wait, if they achieve
their goal . . .”

He saw, and nodded glumly.

“If we can’t get rid of them and we can’t fool them,” said
Trevor, “then what can we do? Hypnotize them so they give up and go away? They’re
not going to change their minds just because we think they need an attitude
adjustment.”

Oslovski stared at him. “An attitude adjustment,” she
murmured.

“What?”

“Something Vance said last night about human nature. That
presented with an unchangeable circumstance, the human mind adjusts its
attitude to accept it . . . or goes mad, I suppose.”

Shiro nodded. “In other words, it grows the serenity
necessary to accept the inevitable. But how can we make the irresistible force
believe
that is has met an immovable
object?”

Oslovski raised her eyebrows. “Maybe Trev has something
there—hypnotism.”

Trevor snorted. “I was being facetious, Magda. There’s no
way we can hypnotize the entire Defense Department.”

“We wouldn’t have to. The entire Defense Department isn’t
going to be time traveling. They’ll send one or two men back—hell,
we
can control that much. We’ll tell
them the field won’t allow more than that.” She started pacing, thinking. “I
want to change the script for the next Phase Five experiment. We’re going to
send Toto downstairs.”

oOo

While the others ate lunch, Magda Oslovski went up to her
husband’s second floor office. He was munching on a tuna sandwich when she came
in clutching her coffee cup in both hands.

“Hi,” he said. “Have you had lunch?”

She shook her head and he handed her half of his sandwich. “You
have ‘that look.’”

“That ‘lean and hungry look’?” she asked around a bite of
tuna.

“No. The patented Magda Oslovski ‘I’ve come to a definite
decision and God help you if you try to change my mind’ look. So, what’s it
going to be, Saint Mag of QuestLabs: Courage or Serenity?”

“Our courage, their serenity. Before I tell you what that
means, answer a question: Can you hypnotize someone to make them
think
they’ve done something they haven’t
done?”

“Can I, personally?”

She nodded.

“Ye-es,” he said slowly. “Given the right environment. It
depends a lot on the magnitude of the suggestion and the natural resistance of
the subject. Some individuals require a little help—sodium pentothal or
Ephkal-A.”

“Ephkal-A—that was developed here, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve worked with it, then.”

“Yes, I have. It’s been very helpful in handling the
endorphin imbalances that contribute to nasty conditions like schizophrenia.”

“In other words, it helps you adjust someone’s attitude.”

Vance shook his head. “Not quite. It helps the body adjust
its own attitude. There’s a difference.”

“Okay, distinction noted. But it makes this hypnosis thing
doable?”

“Oh, it’s doable. But it’s also undoable. The effects have
been known to fade.”

“Fade? Over how long a period?”

“Years, months. But real memories tend to do the same thing.
Even things I did—oh, last night, say—tend to take on an aura of . . .
fantasy.” He gave her a provocative look.

“I love you, too,” she said. “But couldn’t this fading be
counteracted with a regular regimen of Ephkal-A?”

He sighed. “We put schizophrenics on Ephkal-A boosters. It
keeps their moods balanced and helps them to retain positive memory
associations. It can be taken orally. Where’s all this leading, Mags?”

“I’ll tell you. But I want you to be quiet until I’ve
finished. Take notes if you have to.
Then
I want to hear what you think. Then I want to know if you’ll help.”

oOo

She was back in O.R. an hour and a half later, her face
flushed and a mad gleam in her dark eyes. She called her Team away from their
calibration routines into a pow-wow.

“Okay, here’s the new Phase Five game plan. The object of
the experiment is to send Toto back one day to another location here in the
Emerald City. Specifically . . .” She tapped out something on
her handcomp and handed the unit to Shiro. “These coordinates.”

The younger woman glanced at them, then looked up puzzled. “These
are right downstairs, aren’t they?”

Oslovski nodded. “They are indeed. Directly below us, as a
matter of fact.”

“That facility is identical to this one, isn’t it?”

“Right again. I just notified Admin that we’re going to be
making use of it for some very delicate and oh-so-top-secret work. Peter was
ecstatic. It’s one more thing he can add to the DOD tab. Phase Five now goes
something like this. We send Toto down and back to ascertain we can hit the
precise coordinates. Then, we’re going to incorporate a little bit of Phase Six
into the plan: We’re going to bring in our animal friends. First, the mice,
then, if they survive, we’ll send Q-Bert with a full medical array. And if he
makes it through all right, it’s onward and upward.”

“You mean we’re going to go to a human subject?” asked
Trevor.

She nodded. “Except that for the first-round human Shift, we’ll
just send someone downstairs in the same temporal range, just to make sure they’re
okay.”

“Teleportation?” George looked both eager and concerned.

“What about Temporal Spectrum Shift? We’ve never tried
moving an object along the same wave band. Theoretically, I’m not sure it would
work. We can’t put someone through solid walls.”

“But we can use the Temporal Spectrum to move them from one
place to another,” said Shiro. “We can shift back, change the location on the
Spectrum, then shift forward again.”

“Ah!” George nodded. “Ah, yes! Sort of like a knight in chess.”

Shiro looked doubtful. “I guess so.”

“To what purpose to we do this?” asked Trevor.

The devil was back in Oslovski’s eyes. “To the purpose of
making the irresistible force think it’s met an immovable object. Think, Trev.
What might make our clients adjust their attitude?”

“Is this a quiz?”

“Think.”

“Okay. Well, you said it. An immovable object.”

“Yes!” Shiro nodded eagerly. “I see. Something they can’t
change. A—a
future
they can’t change,
perhaps.”

“That’s what I hope to show them, people,” said Oslovski. “A
future that their monkeying around didn’t change to their liking.”

“What about the other thing?” asked Trevor. “What are we
going to do about that?”

“We’re going to stop them. Stations, people. Let’s complete
our calibrations.”

oOo

Q-Bert weathered his flight with all the aplomb of a
veteran time traveler. He complained only when his sensors were attached via a
small cap that fitted tightly over his head and fastened under his jaw. Louis
had added insult to injury by laughing at him, something the genteel terrier
couldn’t abide.

“You’re the first person he’s bitten since he was a puppy,”
said Trevor, as they reviewed Q-Bert’s data.

Louis stared glumly at the bandage on his finger. “Should I
take that as a compliment?”

“I think you should take it as a warning not to laugh at
QBert. He’s a scientist, after all, just like the rest of us. Except, of
course, that he has a wet nose.”

“Yeah, and sharp teeth.” Louis shook his finger. “How did he
do?”

“Just great. Respiration fine. Brain activity, relaxed—except
when he bit you. Heart rate, normal. Blood panels look good. He’s a healthy,
happy canine.”

Louis bit his lip and tried not to look desperately excited.
“That means the next step is sending one of us.”

Trevor nodded. “Once Magda’s seen this data, I think she’ll
agree to that.” He gave Louis a sideways look. “Are you volunteering?”

“You bet, Kimosabe. Wild horses couldn’t stop me. I can just
see the headlines: Descendant of Sitting Bull First Man to Time Travel.” He
grinned. “My folks will be so proud.”

Trevor looked skeptical. “Are you really a descendant of
Chief Sitting Bull?”

“Bona fide, guaranteed.” He twiddled the eagle feather that
hung, solitary, from the braid at the back of his head.

“That’s ironic.”

Louis raised his eyebrows.

“Little Big Horn,” said Trevor. “The Sequel.”

oOo

Operation Little Big Horn proceeded the next morning with
a careful, full-staff study of Q-Bert’s data. Q-Bert himself was subjected to a
thorough examination by Drs. Trevor Haley and Judy Walsh. When that was over,
Magda Oslovski okayed the next phase.

Louis took Q-Bert’s place on the Spectral Grid, watching
nervously as Trevor set up his sensors for the trip. Downstairs in the other
O.R., Vahid Khadivian waited for the materialization.

Psychologically, Louis didn’t take the Shift as well as
QBert had. His heart raced as the Field was activated and he was unable to slow
it down. The Field danced like a swirling pattern of stars before his eyes. A
tingling sensation cascaded down his back, then spiraled upward again to spin crazily,
but not unpleasantly, in his head. He blinked rapidly several times—saw colors
flash vividly.

My God,
he
thought,
it really is a spectrum.

Then the trembling stars returned and melted and he was
watching Vahid Khadivian blink back at him. They stared at each other for a
moment, then Vahid grinned and said, “Welcome to the Underworld, my son.”

Louis let out a whoop.

oOo

“Your heart rate got a little crazy there, Louis,” said
Oslovski. “All through the Shift.”

“I just got a little excited, that’s all. Really.” He
shrugged. “Adrenalin is a powerful drug, doctor.”

“No discomfort?”

“No. No, it was . . . tingly. Exhilarating.
There really are visible color bands. I saw them flashing when the Field effect
faded.”

“Mmm.” Oslovski looked at the computer display again. “Most
important of all, you made it. You ended up right where you were supposed to.”
She gazed off into space for a moment. “Okay. All right. Next phase.”

oOo

In the week that followed, they sent Toto back to the
target date. He recorded the entire assassination attempt, tucked neatly away
behind a pillar on the upper deck of the Conference Center. Oslovski’s Team
reviewed the footage painstakingly.

They studied official accounts. They met far into the night,
discussing, consulting, arguing, mentally rehearsing routines for Phase One of
Operation Little Big Horn; running over a long list of
what-ifs.
They also started laying the groundwork for Phase Two.

When the big Monday arrived, the Chiefs appeared in full military
regalia. With them were two “special operatives”—Ferris and Hilyard by name.
Oslovski adopted the immediate suspicion that these were the would-be
assassins. They contributed nothing to the briefing, but merely sat in silence,
watching and listening.

Magda Oslovski conducted the briefing flanked by Vance
Keller and Trevor Haley. The other members of the LBH conspiracy were busily
readying themselves for the inevitable demonstration.

“Since I talked to you last, General Caldwell,” said
Oslovski, “we’ve had several important breakthroughs. But rather than tell you,
we’ll show you. Dr. Haley, the video please.”

Around the oval table, video displays showed footage taken
by Toto during his sortie in New York. The aborted assassination played out,
followed by mass confusion, an explosion of golden motes and a sudden shift to
aqua. The screens went black.