Time Salvager (18 page)
With a sigh, James retold his entire job, starting with the explosion and how he had narrowly recovered the three marks for Valta. He continued with the failed jump due to the residual tear in the chronostream and painstakingly detailed the hundreds of slow deaths he saw people dying due to the radiation. Then he talked about his feelings. He followed Levin’s orders and reported every minute detail of the mission. Most of them were actually true, but he embellished a little to convey the drama. The only thing he omitted was any mention of Elise.
To Levin’s credit, it took almost an hour before he, now completely annoyed, snapped and told him to move on. James gave himself a mental pat on the back. It was a masterful telling. Finally, he moved the story to the return jump to the present, where he began an entirely new narrative. He continued to talk about his feelings, describing in detail about how he felt so completely disturbed by the deaths he saw yet was so relieved he had made it out alive.
At one point, James tried to will tears to drip out of his eyes. His body, however, would do no such thing. He finally finished his story, telling them how he wanted to celebrate the golden ticket by getting a couple of drinks.
Levin raised an eyebrow at that part of the story. “Why didn’t you go to the Never Late?”
James smirked. “Because that bar is full of ChronoCom men. I wanted to taste freedom, being so close and all. Feels good to be a ruck, you know.”
Levin’s eyes glazed for a second before he spoke again. “All right then, tell me about the room you booked at the Heights.”
James kept his smile plastered on his face even as his throat closed. Of course Levin checked his transaction records. He had hoped it’d be something the monitors overlooked, but he was prepared for this question as well.
“Whores,” he said. “Can’t celebrate without them, right?”
Levin looked at the mirror to his left, his head nodding slightly. James turned to it as well and waved. Then he noticed the glimmer in Levin’s expression. He’d found something. That couldn’t be good.
“You rented a whore to celebrate at the Heights.” Levin didn’t say it like a question.
James nodded.
“Is she still there?”
James’s mind raced. Levin must already know or have something on him; otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked the question.
He nodded again. “I did hire her for an entire day. Going to get my money’s worth.”
“She’s the one using your access on the net right now as we speak?” asked Levin.
James’s heart sank. Elise must have figured out how to use the vid. “I didn’t want her to get bored,” he finished lamely.
Levin stood up and banged his fist on the table. “You expect me to believe that you gave a whore your chronman access to the entire vid network?”
It was time for James to double down. He stood up and stuck his face right in front of Levin’s. “Yeah? So?”
They exchanged scowls. “Very well, then,” Levin said finally. “You might be here a while, so I’m sure you won’t mind if we send someone there to bring her back for questioning.”
James tried his best to seem nonchalant. “Be my guest, though if she asks for more money, it’s coming out of your account.” There was nothing he could say to worm his way out of this.
Levin stood and looked at the lead monitor standing guard in the room. The lead monitor nodded and motioned for one of the others to follow him out the door, presumably to pick up Elise. James had to think of something fast.
Before he left, Levin turned back to them. “Handler, escort the chronman to the brig.”
Smitt frowned. “Why? Is he under arrest?”
“Not yet.”
“Then I’m taking him to his quarters,” Smitt said. “He hasn’t done anything wrong and is completely unarmed. I can confine his access until then.”
Levin shook his head. “To the brig. That’s an order. If everything checks out, it’ll only be for a few hours and I will be the first to congratulate you both on your soon-to-be new life on Europa.”
James and Smitt were quiet as they left the interrogation room. James’s mind raced as he went over his options. He would be hard-pressed to beat the monitors to Elise unless he left right now. Fighting out of here without an exo was suicide. They were deep in the bowels of Central, along with the entire garrison. The monitors didn’t worry James too much, but there were also at least three dozen chronmen and probably a few auditors here as well. They posed the real threat.
Smitt waited until they were alone in one of the corridors before rounding on him. “Tell me I have nothing to worry about, man. This is our ticket out of here. Tell me we’re in the clear and this is just an abyss-wasted exercise.”
James hesitated for only a split second before nodding. Smitt, however, had been operating with him since the Academy.
“What happened there, James?” Smitt asked, his eyes opened wide. He had a desperate look on his face. “Look, you can trust me. I’ve always covered for you.”
That much was true. Smitt had never turned his back on him or let him down before. James was going to need all the help he could get.
He leaned in. “I brought someone back.”
Smitt’s face turned ashen and a moan escaped his lips. “You did what?”
“I couldn’t let her die.” Now was James’s chance to escape. He hoped his friendship with Smitt held. “Listen, I need your help. I need to get to her before the monitors do. Can you help me get my hands on some new bands?”
Smitt look conflicted before he finally nodded. “Your access has been locked out, but mine should be all right. We can go to the armory.”
They continued past the holding cells and barracks down to the lower armory level. Smitt punched the security code and opened the main armory doors.
He turned to James. “Listen, James, it’s not too late to turn this person in and beg for mercy. Remember, we just got fast-tracked out of this place and into Europa. We got funds saved up. We can get out of here. Think about what you’re throwing away.”
And for those few moments, James considered it. Elise didn’t belong here. She was supposed to be dead. Leaving her with the monitors was assuring her death, but she was already living on borrowed time. It wouldn’t be a stain on his soul if he did the right thing, would it? He’d just be following the Time Laws. Righting the chronostream.
Strange, he had used this argument so often when he watched all those other people die. Prior to today, it had always made sense. His absence of action was justifiable. That past was already dead. James was just an observer of their history.
It had even felt right when he left Grace Priestly, the Mother of Time. But now, in the one moment when his entire future hinged on following the Time Laws, it felt like a pitiful excuse. Everything felt wrong.
“I … I can’t.” The words were a struggle to say. He slumped his shoulders. “Not this one. I can’t turn my back on these people anymore. I’m sorry.”
“I understand.” Smitt nodded. He opened the door and led James into the armory. “I’m sorry, too.”
Four monitors were waiting for him in the room. “Chronman James Griffin-Mars, you are under arrest for violation of the first Time Law.”
“He’s harmless! He doesn’t have his bands.” Smitt yelled, stepping to the side. “There’s no need for force. He’ll go peacefully. He’s harmless.”
James wasn’t sure what hurt worse: Smitt’s betrayal or what he was about to do next.
“I’m sorry too, Smitt,” he said.
Then James slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out the razor blade, and showed everyone in the room just how harmless he was.
The two unlucky monitors closest to James were the first to face his wrath. Smitt had barely gotten the words out of his mouth when the monitor to James’s right dropped from an elbow to the face. Before anyone else in the room had a chance to react, James rammed the razor into the gut of the one on the left. The monitor stiffened as the blade entered his sternum.
Before the body had a chance to fall, James got behind him and propped his body up as a shield. The odds on a razor blade versus the two remaining armed monitors with wrist beams were poor, assuming Smitt didn’t get involved. Fat chance of that happening.
James had faced worse odds before. He surveyed the room. The main armory was square, with shelves lined along the walls and a large workbench in the middle. There was little room for movement and even less cover. The closer monitor, a fodder, judging by his clean-shaven face and textbook shooting stance—one hand gripping the forearm of his shooting wrist—was four meters away to his left.
The monitor farther away, a grizzled veteran by the look of him, stood on the other end of the room. He carried his wrist beam like most other experienced combat soldiers, with one arm extended and the other high-chambered, close to protect his body and face. James went for him first.
He didn’t have his bands on him, but against monitors, he didn’t need them. Initiates at the Academy didn’t even work with bands until their last two years. Before then, combat training was strictly conventional, a field in which James excelled in.
He shoved the monitor in his grasp toward the grizzled veteran and leaped toward the fodder. He slid forward feet first, ducking under a hastily aimed shot. He got close enough to stab the razor down on the fodder’s standard steel-tipped boots, reinforced thirteen centimeters from the end. James jammed the razor eighteen centimeters from the tip and felt the blade penetrate the softer plastic right where the ankle met the foot.
Before the surprised fodder even had time to cry out in pain, James pulled the bloody razor out of his foot, and in one smooth motion, flung it at the veteran. The razor missed its mark as the monitor sidestepped and knocked the razor out of the air with his armored forearm. Grizzle was able to get one shot off that went wide to the left before James had covered the distance and was on top of him.
James threw three quick strikes. Grizzle blocked two. The third, a knuckle jab to the solar plexus, right between the protective chest plates of his armor, sent him down writhing on the ground, gasping for breath. One more blow finished him off. James turned to face the two remaining men in the room and barely dodged a wrist beam to the face.
As with many new monitors, this one tended to aim for the head. James attacked. The fodder, having fallen on his back, was able to get off only one more shot before James was on top of him. With one hand, James violently tore off his helmet, and with the other, brought his fist straight down on the poor kid’s temple. He watched the fodder’s eyes roll up into his head and his body go limp.
James turned to Smitt. As expected, his only friend in the world hadn’t moved from his place. His ex-handler was always more brains than fight. In this case, he wasn’t much of either. James wasn’t sure what to do with him. Killing his only friend in the world, even if Smitt had betrayed him, was something James couldn’t bring himself to do.
The blood had drained from Smitt’s face. He turned and tried to flee the room by running through the wall. He succeeded in only banging his head against the shelf and growing a welt. Smitt turned back to James, rubbing the angry knot on his head, and begged for his life. “I’m sorry, my friend. It’s for your own good. There’s nowhere to run, James.”
James took a slow step toward Smitt, still unsure how to deal with him.
“You know Levin won’t stop going after you.” Smitt sounded desperate. As he should be.
James took two more steps, cracking his fists. They throbbed in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He wasn’t sure but he might have broken his forefinger on his right hand. It has been a long time since he last fought without his exo. His mind wandered back to the first time he and Smitt had met at the Academy.
James had just failed a communication channel construction test while Smitt had failed his first-year physical for the second time. They both happened to wander into the Fresh Fish bar to drown their sorrows, which is where they met. They had agreed to help the other pass their tests and had become fast friends.
The right thing for James to do was kill Smitt right there. Smitt knew far too much about him. The auditors could use him to track down James and Elise. After all, James was a wanted criminal. He had broken the Time Laws he had sworn to uphold. Not just any Time Law, but the first and most important. If any other chronman had done the same, James wouldn’t have hesitated to take him down as well, if ordered. He reached out, grabbed Smitt’s collar, and slammed him back into the wall.
He wrapped his hands around his friend’s neck and squeezed. “Unlock the lockers. Now.”
Smitt nodded, a choking sound crawling out of his mouth. “Done.”
A dozen security locks behind him switched off. Then Smitt closed his eyes and waited for the killing blow. James reached one hand behind Smitt’s head and put the other on his chin. One quick twist and his friend wouldn’t feel much pain. A low, guttural cry escaped his lips as he twisted, and then stopped.
Smitt opened one eye, puzzled. “Get it over with, James, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“That means a lot to me,” James said.
A little of the tension left Smitt’s terrified face. “You’ve always been my brother, and I’ll—”
James punched him across the jaw and knocked him unconscious. He shook his fist as he looked down at his fallen friend. He’d definitely let his hands get way too soft, relying on his exo these past few years. Smitt was going to wake up with a splitting headache and maybe a busted jaw, but at least he’d be alive.
True to his word, Smitt had unlocked all the storage containers. If James was going to keep Elise alive out there, he’d need supplies. He grabbed stashes of survival gear: wasteland kits, including provisions, water containers, med kits. Then he rummaged through the holds and equipped his wrists with all the bands he needed. Not knowing when or if he could ever acquire any more of this technology, James stuffed several extra bands into his netherstore, including extra comm, AI, and atmos bands for Elise. An exo would be too complicated and dangerous for her to learn. Instead, he stowed a stash of standard monitor wrist beams. Elise might need to know how to use one to protect herself. Also, there was always a black market for these items. His account would undoubtedly be frozen after this incident, and he would need to find the scratch somehow.
