Time Salvager (17 page)
She tugged on his arm. “Are you sure we’re in the future?”
“Do they have flying cars in your time?” he said.
“Well, they sure had this same sort of transit system,” she said. “I mean, how do you still use the same trains from four hundred years ago?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not from around here.”
“Then why are we here? Where are you from?”
James leaned in and lowered his voice. “Born on Mars colony.”
“Why are you whispering?” she asked.
“Because I don’t want anyone to try to mug us,” he said, all of a sudden remembering how naked he was without any of his bands.
The train stopped deep underground and James dragged her through the tunnels. They walked for the better part of twenty minutes, past the gray and brown sublevels until they reached the purples. Higher toward the surface, they reached a set of blue tunnels, where the decor was much cleaner than in the previous sections.
“Why would people want to rob you if they think you’re from Mars?” she asked.
“Because anyone with any amount of money would have left Earth by now.”
They continued down the blue tunnels before eventually arriving at a clean, dead-end street. James led Elise through a set of sliding double doors into a building that was a far cry from the decay they had had to wade through to get there.
The Heights was one of the better hotels in Chicago. It was usually reserved for visiting dignitaries and off-planet corporate executives. The cost of staying here per night was usually more than the employees who worked there made in a week. In the present day, few hotels in the solar system outside of Europa, Callisto, and Titan were considered finer.
Elise wrinkled her nose, clearly unimpressed. “What a dump.”
James checked them in to the penthouse and led her by the hand to the unit’s private elevator. A few seconds later, they saw daylight as the elevator rose past ground level to display fully the splendor and rot of the city. Elise’s eyes stayed glued to the window as she saw the advanced technology and the decay of the present side by side. Dozens of tall skyscrapers rose into the air, their tips lost in the low-lying gray smog clouds that blocked out the sun. More smokestacks rose from the ground, spewing massive columns of smoke that seemed to hold up the clouds.
Hundreds of small vehicles and transports zoomed around the tops of buildings, a swarm of metallic locusts coming in and out of the city over the skyway, which reached out as far as the eye could see. On the ground, those who couldn’t afford cars walked, bussed, or trained in huddled masses, like tiny ants.
Everywhere they looked, rust dominated the landscape, from the walls of the buildings to the frames of the cars to the railings of their elevator. Occasionally, a dim pale ray of light would sneak past the thick gray clouds, laying down an orange glaze across a surface, only to be swallowed up seconds later. In the far distance over Lake Michigan, an electric storm sparked and shot long streaks of lightning at the water, puncturing the haze, if only for a moment.
Elise look disgusted as she peered out the window. “Everything looks so washed out. What happened to this place?”
“Not just this place. Everywhere on Earth,” he said.
“You sure as Gaia lied about the present when we were underwater, James the time-traveling liar.”
The elevator dropped them off at the fifty-sixth level, just below the skyway. James led Elise to the suite. It was a spacious four-by-four-meter room with its own bathroom. A single clean bed occupied the center of the room, and a vid screen was mounted on the opposite wall. Being the most expensive unit available, one of its walls consisted entirely of windows, though the grime caked on several of the panels made it difficult to see outside. At this height, James could see only the brown and black wind as it swirled around the building.
He turned to her. “Listen, stay here. Do not leave the room. Do not answer the door. If the lobby calls up, tell them you’re indisposed and do not wish to be disturbed. This is important, understand?”
Elise gasped, momentary panic blanketing her face. “You’re leaving? Where are you going?”
“I have to report in. I’ll be back; I promise.”
“What am I supposed to do in the meanwhile?”
James kept the growing irritation rising up his gut in check. After all, she didn’t realize how serious a situation they were in right now. It was all he could do to hold it together and not outright panic. For a brief second, he considered surrendering her. He could tell them it was a mistake, a moment of weakness. Perhaps he could even sell the auditors the story that she clung on to him. There were dozens of scenarios that he could concoct to escape this dilemma. Then he thought about Sasha.
“Fucking abyss,” he muttered. He led Elise to the bed and sat her down. “There’s nothing to worry about. Get some rest. I’ll be back shortly.”
She nodded. “What if someone knocks? Room service or something?”
“Don’t answer it. If someone does try to come in, run. Hide. It’s important no one knows you’re here yet. Understand?” She nodded again.
James turned on the vid screen to a channel showing a game of Lok Gull from the Callisto League. That should keep her preoccupied. He got up and walked to the door, looking back at her once more while she sat on the bed, confused and still in a bit of shock. He didn’t blame her. She had just traveled from her utopian past to his dystopian present. There wasn’t a greater contrast between the two worlds than that. It was a lot for her to take in.
“I’ll be back shortly,” he repeated, hoping desperately that he was telling the truth and that he was not actually saying good-bye.
The powers that be were not happy when James, about three hours late, finally landed at Earth Central. James watched from the sky as he made his descent toward the landing pad. Smitt was there, flanked by four monitors. From fifty meters away, James could see the worried grimace on his friend’s face; he also noticed the fidgeting. The auditors must have really put the screws to him when James went so far off protocol.
James recited his prepared excuses. One of the requirements for being a chronman was thinking quickly on his feet and believing his own lies. During the Publicae Age in the mid-twenty-third century, neural bugs were commonplace and a chronman couldn’t even step foot in that period unless he was trained successfully to lie and think through the constant mental surveillance. Still, James had the feeling he had his work cut out for him.
His being gone nearly half a day, especially on Earth, of all places, had to have raised alarms. He wasn’t sure how closely he had been monitored, but the fact that they were waiting for him at the landing pad probably meant they had tracked him nearly every step of the way once he hit Chicago’s airspace.
James took out the bottle of whiskey he had purchased at the Heights and took a swig, spilling half of it over his collar. Well, he still smelled like sewer, so it might actually have been an improvement. No sooner had he landed and taken two steps out of the collie than all four monitors closed in around him. At least they had the decency not to aim their wrists at him. The fact that he wasn’t arrested on the spot was a good sign.
Levin, waiting at the bottom of the ramp with Smitt, somehow looked grim and pleased at the same time. No doubt he was reveling in whatever punishment he was about to dole out to James. The man was finally getting his revenge for that busted jaw. The fool must not know about the agreement with Valta. ChronoCom wouldn’t dare rescind a payout from an outside party for a promised contract. If word ever got out that ChronoCom had done such a thing, the chronmen tier would be in chaos. No, as long as they didn’t know about Elise, he was safe.
James walked up to Smitt and Levin, and jammed a thumb at one of the monitors. “Is this really necessary?”
“You went off mission, Chronman,” Levin said, “and went dark on your handler.”
James shrugged with forced casualness. “Comm band ran out of levels. It was a rough mission. Had to process a few things in my head. I got the job done; went to go celebrate. So what?” He wiggled the bottle in front of them. “Want some?”
Levin’s face reddened. “You were drinking on a job during a Tier-1 salvage?”
James held his hands up. “Relax. Calm down before you piss yourself. I didn’t start drinking until after the job was done.” He took another swig.
Levin didn’t see the humor in the situation. “Monitors, take his bands.”
James lifted his arms toward the guards as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Go ahead. They’re dry anyway.” He began to hum.
Levin scowled. “Take him to interrogation. I’ll debrief him personally.” He turned and stormed off.
James continued to hum and winked at the monitors playfully.
Smitt’s face bunched up in a scowl. “You seem to be in a cheery mood for once. I don’t like happy you. It feels unnatural. Does your netherstore have all the goods?”
James nodded. He watched as Smitt retrieved the netherstore container from within the collie and handed it off to a tech. The tech checked the content fields against the schematics, probably provided by Valta, and then nodded.
Good riddance, James thought. The instant ChronoCom took control of those items, James’s contract with Valta was fulfilled. All he had to do now was survive a little longer and he would soon be free of this nightmare. He could hide Elise for a few months until he finished his ChronoCom contract. Then, with the funds he had saved, he could buy Elise a new identity and they could live out the rest of their days in peace and luxury. James shook his head. How could he think that? He hardly knew her!
He and Smitt walked toward the interrogation room with the four monitors in tow. James could tell Smitt was struggling to suppress his anxiety. His friend wasn’t exactly fast on his feet; that was why he had never made tier at the Academy. Still, for him to be this on edge made James uneasy. They were almost at the interrogation room when James decided to probe his handler and see just how bad the situation was.
“What’s wrong, man?” he asked Smitt. “I just celebrated a little. Why is everyone so uptight?”
Smitt hesitated. “Monitors detected two signatures during your jump. They think…” He was so concerned he couldn’t finish the sentence, but the implication was clear.
James’s heart sank. If they were able to determine the jump signatures, then he was in trouble. He formulated a new plan. James gazed at his bare wrists. He might even have to fight his way out, though there were some things he needed to retrieve first—a fresh set of bands being foremost. Then, if he somehow escaped, he would need gear to stay alive out in Earth’s harsh wastelands. There was no better place to find all these items than here at Central.
James needed time to think. He stopped. “We need to make a quick change of plans.”
Smitt looked confused. “Our orders are to go directly to I-Three.”
James stepped close to his friend. “I don’t know about you, but I think it will do us all a lot of good if I took a shower first. Especially if we’re cozying up in an interrogation room for a few hours.” He leaned further forward.
Smitt must have finally smelled the bilge on James. He pulled back and scowled. “Shit, man, did you swim in the ocean? Fine, go take a bath first, but hurry.”
“Our orders were to escort him directly to I-Three, Handler,” one of the monitors said.
James gave the monitor a knowing look. “Come now, I just need ten minutes.”
Smitt waved them toward James’s quarters. “You guys aren’t going to be trapped in a room with him for abyss knows how long. You guys can stand guard outside. I’ll stay with him in his room.”
After a few moments of hesitation, the monitors agreed and led James to his room. He could hear them chatting about a Lok Gull game right outside his quarters. James hopped in the shower and took his time, humming and chatting with Smitt about starting their new life on Europa while he searched for anything useful in his quarters. Smitt’s enthusiasm was a bit more stilted.
“It’s probably a blip, right?” James said.
“It’s not usual, that’s for sure.” Smitt sounded worried. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dual signature in a jump before.”
James kept Smitt talking while he scanned his bathroom. As he changed into a fresh set of clothes, he hid a shaving razor in his pants. It was the best he could do.
“Let’s go,” he said cheerfully as they left his room.
The monitors closed rank and escorted him to the interrogation room. A few minutes later, James and Smitt walked into I-3, where a fuming Levin scowled from the other end of the table. Levin shot Smitt a furious look.
“He had to take a shower,” Smitt said, looking embarrassed.
James shrugged. “I was being considerate. I smelled.”
“Let’s get down to business,” Levin said, his jaw set. “Explain your delay.”
James tried to look exasperated. “What’s there to explain? Big explosion at Nutris; city sunk into ocean. Thousands of people died. I salvaged the gear and barely made it back.” He got up. “Can I go now?”
Levin’s eyes narrowed. “Sit down! The monitors recorded a dual signature from your jump. Explain that.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” James said.
“Did someone else come back with you?”
“No. Well, maybe I brought back a couple liters of ocean since I was underwater when I jumped.”
“You think Hops can’t differentiate between bringing back water and life?”
“I don’t know what they don’t know,” James said. “Maybe some fishes came with me.”
“Did you bring back a shark? Because it was a damn large signature,” Levin snarled.
“What’s a…?” James asked.
“It’s a big damn fish!” Levin snapped. He spread his hands out. “This large! Because that’s how big it’d have to be for surveillance to register the additional signature.”
“I didn’t have time to check what type of fish it was,” James shot back. “I was busy trying to survive a ground zero radiation blast.”
The two stared off. Finally, Levin lowered his eyes to his AI band and spoke in a calmer voice, “Why don’t we start from the beginning? And I want every detail. Don’t leave out a thing.”
