TW02 The Timekeeper Conspiracy NEW (23 page)

I wonder how long Mongoose has been one of them?"

"Does it matter?" Lucas said. "The point is that they got to him. Or maybe he got to them. I think I can even understand why he must have done it. Mongoose is a thrill junkie, he's in it for the risk, to play the game. What game can be more risky than burning the candle at both ends? If the Timekeepers suc-ceed in creating a timestream split, it will probably mean chaos, and people like Mongoose thrive on chaos. Just think of the opportunities."

"It's crazy," Finn said.

"The time wars are crazy," Lucas said with a sigh, "but nobody twisted our arms to get involved. We both had a chance to get out, only you stayed in and I wound up re-enlisting. Maybe we're not so different from Mongoose, after all."

"If it's all the same with you," said Finn, "we can get into the philosophical implications of this thing some other time. Right now, we've got to figure out a way to stop the split from going down."

"The musketeers are going to be leaving Paris soon," said Lucas. "If we go with them, we're being decoyed away and we're playing right into their hands. If we don't go with them, Mongoose will know about it as soon as the musketeers get out of Paris and the floater scouts pick up the party. They'll notice that two people are missing, not to mention the fact that we won't be able to communicate with them." He reached into his boot and pulled out the gauntlet with the comsets wrapped inside. "What's the range of these things, anyhow?"

"I don't know," said Finn, "but I know what you're think-ing and you just said why it wouldn't work.

They'll be scouting from the air and they'll know that two people are missing. Besides, if these things are short range, we're out of luck. If they're not, it still makes no difference. It looks like whatever they're planning is going to go down in Paris. If we can stop them here, they've still got the chronoplates. Unless we stop them dead, they can outflank us and attack the musketeers. We can't be in two places at once."

"Not necessarily," said Lucas. He looked at Andre. "There's three of us now. One of us can take Andre and go along with the musketeers to cover them. That may fool the floaters and it will leave one of us to stay behind in Paris and go after Mongoose."

Finn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Just one of us? That's what I call a long shot."

"Unless you can think of something else real quick, it's the only shot we've got. Mongoose said that he'd be in position at the palace. I think that's exactly where he's going to be. They'll think that we're out of the way and they'll feel safe to make their move. Now what could they do that would create a major disruption in history? I think they might go after Richelieu. Maybe the king or queen, maybe even all three of them."

"God, it's Mensinger's worst nightmare," said Finn. "If they assassinate their target in front of witnesses, it will be next to impossible to adjust. And even if plants can be ar-ranged in time, which I doubt, we're talking about major historical figures here. Even with genetic engineering, what are the odds of coming up with an adequate substitute Louis XIV? Each time an adjustment necessitates a substitution, you're risking a temporal disruption that could lead to a split. This one would guarantee it."

"There's always the chance that Mensinger was wrong," said Lucas, not very hopefully.

"Right. And we're only going to find out the hard way," Finn said. "Damn. Whichever one of us is going to stay behind is going to be completely on his own, with Mongoose manipulating the TIA people under his command. What do you think his chances are going to be?"

Lucas shrugged. "Whichever one of us takes Andre and joins the musketeers stands a good chance of not making it back. The one who stays in Paris is going to have to stay alive long enough to kill Mongoose, Taylor, and Freytag. Frankly, I'd rather not think about what our chances are."

"I knew I was going to hate this mission," Finn said. "All right, who stays and who goes?"

Lucas removed a coin from his pocket. He held it in his hand, staring at it for a moment, then he tossed it in the air.

"Call it."

Shortly before dawn, ten people on horseback left Paris by the barrier of St. Denis. The group consisted of Aramis and his servent, Bazin, a somber man of forty who dressed in black and affected a priestly air; Porthos and Musqueton, his lackey, an amiable peasant of about thirty-five who was dressed considerably better than his fellows in his master's cast-off clothes; Athos and his man, Grimaud, whose taciturn demeanor matched his name; and D'Artagnan and Planchet, the comical scarecrow of a man whose aimless, spirited babble more than compensated for Grimaud's and Bazin's glum reserve. They were just about to leave when their party was in-creased by two new arrivals.

Andre was readily accepted, both because Lucas vouched for "him" and because D'Artagnan, in a moment of careless exuberance, had let it slip that Andrew was the "brother" of that fascinating woman who had taken their side against the cardinal's guards at the abbey. That woman had been an ob-ject of intrigue and speculation among the musketeers ever since and now, with the appearance of her "brother"

on the scene, each musketeer secretly hoped to obtain a private in-troduction. D'Artagnan was furious with himself for not hav-ing kept his mouth shut and thereby losing an advantage. In spite of their precarious situation, Lucas was quite amused by the musketeers' exaggerated overtures of friendship toward Andre and the sudden, boisterous camaraderie.

Of necessity, no one but D'Artagnan was to know the true nature of their mission, since the honor of the queen was at stake. Andre and Lucas knew, of course, but they feigned ig-norance. As for the other musketeers, all they were told was that it was to be a mission of great importance and that they had to go to London and very possibly get killed along the way. D'Artagnan told them that he had been entrusted with a letter and that, should he fall, one of the others would have to deliver it. Save for a few brief instructions regarding that delivery, the three musketeers knew nothing. Initially, Porthos had raised some doubts, but following a brief discussion of the risks involved and the reasons for their going, Athos settled the matter once and for all.

"Gentlemen," he had said, "is the king accustomed to giv-ing you reasons for doing everything that you must do? No. He says to you, very simply, 'Gentlemen, there is fighting going on in Gascony or Flanders; go and fight,' and you go there. No, here are our three leaves of absence, which came from Captain de Treville, and here are three hundred pistoles, which came from I know not where. So let us go and get killed where we are told to go. Is life worth the trouble of so many questions?"

The issue settled, they departed for Calais, which was the quickest route to London. Finn had given Andre his cloak in place of her much more ornate one in an effort to fool the floaters. It was still dark and Lucas and Andre rode at the tail end of the group. Shortly after they left Paris, Lucas received his first contact from the floaters.

"Hawk One to Ground Squirrel, Hawk One to Ground Squirrel. Do you read? Over."

The throat transmitter enabled Lucas to speak softly, so that the others would not overhear him, but they would not have heard in any case, since they were all ahead of him and the group was in full gallop.

Andre did not have a comset, so she was oblivious of the contact, but Lucas burst into laughter.

"Hawk One to Ground Squirrel, I'm getting a lot of noise. Are you reading me loud and clear?

Over.
''

"You're getting a lot of noise because I'm laughing my ass off," Lucas said.

"Did you say 'over'?"

"Yeah, yeah, over, roger-willco," Lucas said. "What's with this Ground Squirrel shit? Who the hell is Ground Squir-rel?"

There was a slight pause.

"What do you mean, who's Ground Squirrel?
You're
Ground Squirrel."

"No kidding?"

"Didn't Mongoose give you your call-sign? How the hell are you supposed to respond if you
don't know your call-sign?"

"I am responding, you nitwit."

This time, the pause was appreciably longer. Lucas couldn't stop laughing.

“
I
don't see what's so funny, Priest.
''

"Well, Christ, if you know my name, why don't you use it?"

"Well, it would be a bit irregular, but I suppose there's no reason why—"

"Look, have you got something to report or are you just providing comic relief?" said Lucas.

There was a slightly longer pause. Finally, "Hawk One" came on and said, rather tersely,
"All clear
up ahead.''

"Assholes," mumbled Lucas. There was no further contact until they reached Chantilly.

The group arrived at a roadhouse a little after eight o'clock. They left the horses saddled, in case they should have to depart in a hurry, and entered the inn to have a quick break-fast. The only other patron besides themselves was a drunk who greeted them with exaggerated bonhomie. They ex-changed token pleasantries and nothing more was said be-tween them until it came time for them to leave, at which point the drunk lurched to his feet, holding a wine goblet aloft and swaying unsteadily.

"Gentlemen, a toast!" he shouted, nearly overbalancing. He clutched at Porthos's baldrick for support, then lurched back several feet, accomplishing the act, miraculously, without spilling a single drop of wine. "A toast to the health of His Eminence, Cardinal Richelieu! Gentlemen, will you join me?"

"I have no objection," Porthos said, "if you, in turn, will join with us to drink the health of good King Louis."

The drunk spat upon the floor. "Pah! I recognize no king other than His Eminence!"

"You're drunk," said Porthos. "Otherwise, I might not so easily forgive your insolence."

"Drunk, am I?" said the man, reaching for his rapier and missing it. He grasped at air in the vicinity of his waist until his hand found his sword and he pulled it from its scabbard. "Well, we'll see who's drunk!"

"That was foolish," Athos said to Porthos. "Still, there's nothing to be done about it now. Kill the fellow and rejoin us as quickly as you can."

Porthos shrugged and drew his own rapier. The drunk came on guard with a sudden, remarkable sobriety. As they left the roadhouse with the sound of clanging steel behind them, Lucas suggested that it might be simpler, since there were ten of them in all, to gang up on the man and quickly get it over with.

Athos looked at him with shock.

"My dear fellow," he said, in tones of strict rebuke, "that sort of thing simply isn't done!"

"Why?"

Athos gave him a pained expression for his answer, mounted up and galloped off.

"It
would
be a bit dishonorable," Andre ventured, cau-tiously.

Lucas shook his head. "Boy, have you got a lot to learn," he said. They mounted up and galloped off after the mus-keteers.

"Ground Squirrel to Goony Bird," said Lucas.

"That's 'Hawk One,'
" came the annoyed reply.

"Says you. Where's the other birdbrain?"

There was a short silence.

"Hawk Two is scouting up ahead. I'm at ten thousand feet, keeping you on scope.
"

"How come you didn't report that character in the tavern?" Lucas said.

"
What character?"

"Jesus, you're a lot of help."

"
You expect me to see indoors from way up here? Give me a break, I'm doing the best I can."

"Then we're in a lot of trouble."

"Not yet, but you're going to be. Hawk Two just reported an armed party about a mile outside
Beauvais.
"

"I didn't hear anything."

"He's on another frequency.
"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Well, aren't your people supposed to be providing back-up on this ride?

We're still well away from there. Move your agents in and clear the way."

"They're moving into position, but we can only take defen-sive action in case the terrorists are
among them. If they're not, you 're on your own.
"

"You've got to be kidding."

"Sorry. Orders."

"Okay, look, is there another road that we can take to get around them?"

"No go,"
said the floater.
"This is part of the original scenario. You've got to go on through."

"Terrific," Lucas said.

They stopped at Beauvais for two hours, both to rest and walk their horses around to cool them off and to wait for Porthos. Lucas motioned Andre over to him. "Look," he said, "there may be some trouble up ahead. How good are you on horseback, out of armor, I mean?"

"I have been riding since I was a child," she said. "Why?"

"Well, there's a little trick I learned from the Sioux Indians at the Little Big Horn. Now listen carefully...."

The two hours passed and Porthos did not arrive. "I fear we must assume the worst," D'Artagnan said. "We can wait no longer, gentlemen. To horse!"

They mounted up and proceeded on their way at a rapid clip. After they had ridden for about one mile, they reached a section of the road that was banked steeply on both sides.

"Watch yourself,"
said Hawk One.

Lucas gave Andre a prearranged signal and, as she rode up even with him, men popped up on either side of the road, fir-ing upon the party with muskets. Musqueton was hit im-mediately and he tumbled from his horse. Aramis took a ball in the shoulder and he reeled in the saddle, but he hung on and spurred for dear life. Andre and Lucas, riding side by side, both dropped out of their saddles to hang on the sides of their horses, using the animals' bodies as shields. Since they were riding behind the others, their maneuver went unnoticed. As soon as they had ridden beyond the ambush, they both swung up into their saddles. "An excellent tactic!" Andre said. "I must remember it." Lucas looked at her, grinning, then the grin disappeared as he saw that she had lost her hat. Almost immediately, Hawk One came on.

"Nice trick,
" he said,
"but I've got just one question. Since when is Private Delaney a blonde?"