The Time Travel Directorate (7 page)

“I can’t do this,” Vin shouted, throwing
Jurisprudence of Time Travel
on the floor of his dorm room. He stood up and kicked the heavy book across the room for good measure.

Training was not
going well. Travel law was complex, to say the least, with overlapping regulations and various legal interpretations. On day one, his instructor told the class that, despite the fact that reading panes offered standard applications for travel crime, they were still required to educate themselves via a classroom course. This was due, of course, to a lawsuit at some time in the distant past that required an anachronistic procedure the rest of the world functioned without.

D
espite his frustrations, Vin knew there was a more logical reason for the Directorate’s emphasis on the old school way of doing things. There were no reading panes in 18
th
century France. The reading pane on the web was deliberately small. The Directorate did not want inspectors to rely on them.

Their very existence was a closely guarded secret inspectors protected with their lives.
If they inadvertently revealed the technology to someone in the past, it would surely impact Standard D, not to mention cost them their job, along with the added benefit of a lengthy prison stay. And that was if the inspector was lucky enough to make it back alive. Some of the more ugly attacks on inspectors occurred with the discovery of their webs—which, in regulated time periods, often denoted witchcraft. It was an obvious challenge to time travel regulation. Inspectors had modern technology at their disposal, which they could not use.

Staring at the book from across the room,
Vin reluctantly stood to retrieve it—slamming it on his desk. Flipping it open, he tried to concentrate.

From
Vin’s estimation, their campus was an abandoned 50’s era classroom—located somewhere in the Northeast. Bordered on all sides by dense forest, there was little to no distractions available to the inspectors. Meaning he had to study.

Pouring over the legal texts,
Vin wondered which was worse—studying or the training exercises with the monk. Training camp was a shared experience that bonded all inspectors. They all affectionately referred to the monk as “the teacher.” Rumor had it, the monk was from a Shaolin temple—recruited by the Directorate to train their inspectors in the martial arts. It was this training that effectively prepared inspectors for jumping in and out of time.

The biggest challenge to time travel was not the physical demands of the past
, which were many—the challenge was mental. Perseverance, hard work, and patience were the tools of an inspector. It was a lesson Vin learned the hard way during his first mission. After learning French and indoctrinating himself with pre-revolutionaries, Vin felt the mental toll of having to build up an identity. It was the overwhelming isolation that got to you the most. Vin felt like he was on an island, one populated by people he could not connect with in any meaningful way.

The only thing that
preserved his sanity was routine. Every morning he practiced the ancient techniques the monk had taught him. Preparing himself mentally, he was better able to absorb the culture and language around him—crafting the persona that would ultimately save Kanon Hay. And he had done it right under the nose of Julius Arnold.

Vin
smiled at this thought. He stood up from the desk, ready for a break he did not deserve. He settled down on his bed—preparing to take a nap before night class. Instead, his thoughts drifted to his latest adventure.

Julius had no idea the guard he had recruited to expedite
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity
would end up being the right arm of the Directorate—the very institution Julius was looking to subvert.

Feeling his eyes droop
, Vin wondered why his mission hadn’t been to eliminate Julius Arnold. Why go through all that trouble just to save Kanon Hay? He could certainly have accomplished both, if only he had been given the order.

Looking up at his watch
, Vin snapped awake. He was going to be late. Sitting up, he grabbed the textbook and his coat before exiting into the misty fog of the evening.

He made it across campus in record time, walking into the lecture hall just as his instructor began
addressing the class. As everyone flipped their books open, Vin stared at his blankly, unnerved by how engaged everyone appeared. Looking to his left, he spotted a nerdy looking guy with a pristine legal pad. Thinking he was the closest to normal Vin could hope for, he nudged him in the arm.

“Are you making heads or tails of this?”
Vin asked his classmate.

The man offered
a crooked smile in response. His thick, black glasses matched his neatly styled chestnut hair. Vin studied him for a bit, declaring the man either profoundly arrogant or a total nerd.

“I have no
idea why we have to sit through this, there is an reading pane application for all this material,” he said smugly.

Maybe he’s a bit of both
, Vin thought.

“I
thought this was how the Directorate did things,” Vin responded, trying not to disturb the nervous-looking instructor who was shooting glances in their direction. “We rely on ourselves, not technology.”

“I never had to reference legal documents in the field.
This training is for the Directorate’s annual audit,” the man responded with a smile, revealing brilliant white teeth.

“That’s awfully cynical
,” Vin replied, pretending to take some notes.

“So, you’re new then?” The man held out his hand. “Inspector Quill.”

“
A familiar name. I’m Vin Damato,” Vin responded, shaking his hand firmly.

“
Ah, so you are the famous Inspector Damato,” Quill responded, his warmth disappearing.

“Yes,
” Vin said, remembering why his name was so familiar. “You were assigned to the Julius Arnold case?”

Quill flinched, adjusting his glasses.

“I initially spotted him in my area of responsibility—the Colonial era. After that, he jumped into Middle Ages—early 12th Century. I was working on building up my persona when I was pulled in for training. Then the budget crisis hit, so they pulled me off the case.”

“
Do you have to stay here?” Vin asked, wondering about the blanket travel restriction.

“Training is
conducted in unrestricted time areas. I stay the course until I deploy back to headquarters. Then I go home like everyone else,” Quill said, an edge to his voice.

“
I’m an analyst myself, just here to make things official,” Vin said, hoping this revelation would make his new friend relax.

“Ah, and
analysts are not restricted from traveling. I wondered what they would come up with. What a nice Catch-22 Chief Smiley found for you. You can’t let an international criminal like Julius Arnold run amok just because the government ran out of money.”

“You sound like Director Hay
,” Vin responded, watching as their instructor broke the chalk. “In any case, I’d like to pick your brain about the case.” Vin meant it as a question, but it didn’t come across as one.

Maybe back when he really was an analyst he would have been
horrified at this perceived faux pas, but after operating as an inspector, he couldn’t help but treat Quill as an equal.

For a moment
, Quill didn’t respond. Vin watched as he swallowed with effort, before turning back to him.

“Why not?
” Quill responded succinctly. “At the very least, it’s all I can do to stay involved.”

“I’ll buy your dinner
,” Vin shot back with a smile.

“Only the finest
cafeteria food, what a generous man you are,” Quill responded.

After
an excruciating hour in the classroom, they reconvened in the mess hall. Vin picked at his turkey sandwich while Quill neatly devoured a pizza, talking in-between bites.

“
Julius first overstayed in Salem,” Quill began.

Vin
took a bite of his sandwich, quickly wishing that he hadn’t. The turkey was dry and tasteless.

“What happened?” Vin asked, removing the stale bread and picking at the turkey.

“Didn’t
Chief Smiley tell you?” Quill responded, a sardonic grin on his face.

“
He transferred your case files, but I didn’t have a chance to review them before I came here,” Vin replied, easing into what felt like an easy banter.

He
wondered if Kanon Hay ever felt this way, chatting comfortably with a fellow inspector. Poor thing couldn’t hold a candle to either of them. Vin had been thinking a lot about her, unable to get their dramatic meeting out of his head. Bizarre he should be so captivated—she was only with him for a matter of hours.

“
Smiley was supposed to prepare the warrant for his arrest—we don’t mess around when it comes to apprehensions. By the time he got it straightened out, Julius jumped ship.”

Ah ha
, Vin thought,
that’s why Chief Smiley was so skittish
.

It was his fault Julius slipped through the Directorate’s fingers.

“Where did he jump to?” Vin asked, his curiosity growing.

“
The Middle Ages, he created a nice identity for himself, lord of a castle and all that rot. When I arrived to build my persona, he traveled again, presumably to go after Kanon Hay in the French revolution,” Quill said, licking his fingers.

Shaking his head at this,
Vin stared at the remnants of his sandwich, realizing he would be hungry if he didn’t eat something else. Looking up from his plate, he met Inspector Quill’s intense gaze.

“So Vin
Damato, the storied Vin Damato,” repeated Quill, taking a sip of his drink.

Vin
realized he was growing a reputation.

“
Well, what have you heard?” he asked.

Inspector Quill shook his head.

“Everyone knows, man. You rescuing Director Hay’s daughter like that? Snatching her off the guillotine? That’s right out of a movie.”

“A bad one
,” Vin admitted, opening a bag of potato chips. “So, I’m the big story these days?” he asked, his pride swelling.

“
More like gossip. But hey, it’s a good thing. Now you have the Julius case. You could have a shot at Chief Smiley’s job if you play this one right. But,” Quill continued as Vin’s head was filled with visions of traveling around with Director Hay, “that’s only if you find Julius. I’m amazed you were able to get so close to him in the first place. What was your cover?”

They weren’t supposed to share details of their missions, but
Vin was proud of his accomplishment. Surely he could trust a fellow inspector.

“
A guard assisting in the executions,” Vin responded.

Quill accepted his answer with a nod.

“That’s really something.”

Vin
felt himself smiling. He would have to get used to his new reputation.

“So what’s she like?” Quill asked, fiddling with his packaged brownie.

“Who
?” Vin asked.

“
Kanon.”

“Oh.”
Vin stopped, thinking back to the moment he rescued her—drenched by the rain, her tiny form imprisoned in the rustic wooden cart.

“
She’s small, only comes up to my chin. Blonde hair, blue eyes—cute,” Vin clipped off.

“That’s it? Man, she’s like the
talk of the Directorate, and that’s the description you give?”

“Well
, shit! It wasn’t exactly my main focus,” Vin laughed.

“No
, I guess not. Not many inspectors have met her since she went into the field. Where is she anyway?”

“Chief Smiley
sent her to training.”

“Hmm.
That’s odd,” Quill said, studying his fries with interest.

“What’s odd?”
Vin asked, his heart skipping a beat.

“Dammit
, these things are cold.”

“
What’s wrong with sending her to training?”

“
Ever hear of Post Travel Syndrome, you know, makes inspectors go loco.”

“Chief Smil
ey mentioned something about it.”

“Policy stipulates that inspectors from the field always return to headquarters—it helps the brain connect with the present. Too much jumping around makes them go crazy. That’s what happened with Smiley.”

“Chief Smiley had PTS?”

“Didn’t they tell you anything?” Quill asked, rising to throw away the remnants of his
dinner.

“
I guess he left some parts out. So why did they send her to training?” Vin asked, following Quill out of the lunchroom.

“I don’t know, why
don’t you ask Chief Smiley?”