EarthSourceMedia

Chronopolis

by joey racano

Chapter One, Arrival

The air was sweeter eight centuries ago and each breath was an assault on the senses. The traveler had landed on his belly on a leafy path through thick woods. He staggered to his feet, took inventory of his limbs and retreated into the underbrush.

His once bright survival suit was tarnished and smelled of sulfur. Some of his gear had been lost to freeze, a corrosive effect time travel has on matter. Chrononomy was a new and evolving science, and the hazards were many. 

The traveler was a man named Justin Nicholas Thyme. Having attained the rank of Commodore in the United Nations Multi- National Chrononomy Task Force, Thyme was well educated, skilled in the arts, and known in Chronopolis as a dependable warrior. His name said it all; friends would often greet him after a mission by saying, ‘Just in the Nick of Thyme’! 

According to an external sensor worn like a wristwatch, he had soft-landed in the year 1278 A.D., somewhere in Bulgaria near the site of present day Silistra. His mission was to locate a specially selected child and transport him back to Chronopolis. Upon arrival, that child would be trained for yet another mission, the nature of which was unknown to the Commodore. When he was satisfied the undergrowth had obscured him from the footpath, he took a moment to check the readings on his instrumentation. 

The weather forecast was brisk with a light breeze, confirmed by a rustling in the tree canopy above. The local temperature was 62 degrees Fahrenheit with a 35% chance of rain. It amazed him that his readout could predict weather more accurately in a different time period than could the weather forecasters back in Chronopolis. The Oscillator readout told him he had 50 hours to complete his mission. Although better technologies would arise in the future, conditions enabling time travel could so far be created only temporarily.

Such conditions were for now accomplished through Gamma Ray bombardment of a small area of the space-time fabric. This high-energy bombardment caused a particle disruption, where the Cosmos became malleable over a small field inside an imposing machine called a Chrona.The Chrona was an enormous radioactive wind machine, where micro cyclones were generated and then charged with huge electromagnets. Reversing the polarity of these magnets controlled the wind direction, which in turn determined the direction you would travel through time when you entered the Chrona or simply made contact with the field of disruption.

Missions using the Chrona had an automatic sunset clause built in. When your time was up, you were yanked –violently- back into your own time of origin.  At that point in time, at that precise point, a traveler had to get himself inside of something with enough mass of its own to overcome the ‘freeze’ sure to occur when disruption to the original molecule field ended. That usually meant getting yourself completely immersed in water, but perhaps a hollow log or even the belly of a whale might do in the pinch. But without some kind of protective surrounding however, you would return to Chronopolis a burnt slice of bacon on the floor of the Chrona. These missions were all still just test flights and the technology -known as Chrononomy- had a long way to go. But the Chrona was –and somewhere, probably still is- a time machine.

The local time here was 9:30 a.m. That left most of the day ahead of him to proceed with the mission. He unbuckled a small device from his survival jacket and opened it like an old pocket watch. Pressing a small button, he brought up a tracking screen upon which a persistent blip shone brightly. The reading told him his target was some 25 miles to the North, in Drastar. His sharp mind immediately began calculating the miles, the elapsed time it would take to get there, and the primitive conditions under which that journey would have to be undertaken.

One last glance at the oscillator told him he had 49.4 hours to make the trip, find the child, and encapsulate for the return to his time of origin. He packed up and scooted down the trail keeping his ears wide open, listening for any sound that might signal the approach of anyone else. The way he was dressed, being discovered would most likely lead to being burned at the stake. He broke into the tireless trot of a Task Force Commodore, and narrowly outpaced the breeze. 

Chronopolis

Chapter Two, The Chrona

Few sights in history had the knockout power of that which the small group of men in white scientist smocks beheld that day deep beneath Chronopolis. Open the Encyclopedia Britannica and next to the word ‘imposing’ you’ll see a picture of the Chrona (crow-nuh).  The secrecy surrounding the science of Chrononomy makes it difficult to ascertain exactly when construction of this metal-alloy beast was begun, but it is quite sure that said construction had not –could not- ever be completed.

What started as a device somewhat comparable to the Cyclotron of the mid-20th century, had progressed into something akin to the 1960’s television series, ‘Time Tunnel’. Every time it seemed to be finished, another peripheral discovery was made, until what started as a quest for clean, cheap energy turned into an attempt to control the Sun. Further discoveries led to the attempted control of several neighboring stars. Harnessing that magnitude of energy led quantitative change to morph into qualitative change, and it eventually became possible to travel back to a time when those stars were young- great power indeed!

But unlike many in history who had gained power only to abuse it, these men saw it as a chance to change the world. They recognized the limitless potential of the Chrona, and planned carefully. For many years they met, brainstormed and traveled. They created a prioritized list of issues of stupendous gravitas. Finally, they drew up a charter, swore allegiance to its ideals, and created Alternity Group.

Chronopolis

Chapter Three – The Stone Fortress

The Commodore finally decided it was time to rest when his lungs felt like they were turned inside out. He walked slowly in circles, hand on his hip, as if after a track event. He noticed a difference right away in the clear airs ability to sooth his burning lungs. It was impressive. His oscillator read 41:14; he had been at a slow, steady trot for many hours. The trail had been almost completely empty, but for him. A passing wagon drawn by incredibly large oxen and a solitary foot-traveler who looked like he fell off the cover of the Rolling Stones album, ‘His Satanic Majesty’s Request’ were the only exceptions.

His other instrumentation showed his quarry to be no more than a few miles ahead. Commodore Thyme had made good time. When he came to the woods edge, he stooped onto one knee and mumbled a slurred prayer. This was a very religious era, and though he was not a religious man, he knew he might not get another chance. He likened it in his mind to saying ‘grace’ at the dinner table- once you started eating, there was no going back.

Up ahead was a giant fortress of stone where, his instruments told him, he would find the child for whom he had come. He took a deep breath and walked out onto the cobbles. Now out of the protective woods, he still found himself safely swallowed by shadows and the lateness of hour. Serfs and servants walked silently by, heavy mortar vessels upon their heads, eyes kept to the ground. Their drab gray robes smelled of frankincense and spilled wine, telling the Commodore they had come from inside the tall stone building.  He felt for his polaser, finding comfort in its touch. In this antiquity, he was surely the most well armed man alive.

Up until this point, Thyme had undertaken his mission by the numbers, without questioning Chronopolis as to the layout inside the fort, or what might come next. For now, it was enough that he had closed the gap and made it to within mere yards of the object of his mission. The best thing he could do was to lay low and wait for more details, like, where he was, and the history of the place. Then he would figure out how to proceed.

Chronopolis

Chapter Four- Planning an Anomaly

Throughout the ages, few would ever know of their existence. Among those few, they were seen very differently; to some they were the illuminati. To others they were extraterrestrials. Still others believed them to be representatives of divinity, demigods of a sort. They were even seen much as Native Americans saw the crow, as messengers from across the void, with one foot in this world, one in oblivion. In truth, they were but men, albeit a special breed- rarer than a blue diamond, and it shown bright.

The eight members of Alternity Group stood in a semicircle around a large room whose light at once made the room bright and yet vision difficult, like a long fluorescent bulb on the blink. Before them a large, clear, plasticized quartermasters chart lay prostrate a foot or so off the floor, grease pen markings denoting the foot travels of one Commodore Justin Nicholas Thyme.

“Well my friends”, said a white-bearded scholarly type to the rest, “our rabid meanderings of mind seem to have manifested themselves into a surreality where our chess pieces exist in one age, and the chess board in quite another!”

“Yes, Professor, I do concur”, said another, a tall, thin man wearing a sweater under his white smock and a 5 o’clock shadow, “it would be difficult to overstate our progress- absolutely fantastic!”

“Let’s not get ahead or full of ourselves”, came the sharp retort from a burly gent at the end of the line, standing one hand in pocket, the other on a tobacco pipe. “Sure it’s all enough to make you giddy, but if we are to actually do anything with it, we’ll need- well, we certainly can’t thrash about flying blind in the dark! Colonel Jaspar, has our guest yet arrived?”

“Standing right outside the door, Senator Stillwell. He’s been briefed sufficiently to alleviate some of the shock, but he’s sure to have half a cow in any case- who wouldn’t? Shall I..”

“Yes Colonel, escort the man in at once. Might as well jump right into it, I say”.

The thick steel door opened with a breach of atmosphere that set their ears popping, two by two. The Professor handed out chewing gum as would be done for mountain climbers, or visitors to Shambala or passengers disembarking from a plane to Denver. Now in walked an elderly gentleman, short of stature, but a brilliant historian, named Dr. Benjamin Binder, University of Cornell. Having studied the late 13th century all of his adult life, Dr. Binder would soon take up residence in the ‘Shambala’ believers camp.

As he stared down at the grease pen marks on the large, clear map, he held up his right hand, palm to the floor and signaled for the lights to be lowered.The main lights of the large room dimmed and three flood lights took over, one amber, one red and a third, smaller light shone blue.

“This,” said the professor, “is where the Chrona deposited Commodore Thyme, some 16 hours ago”. The amber light demarked the location where the traveler had landed with a thud on his belly. “This”, he further continued, “is where he is now”.

The red light shone where Justin had just entered the cobbled street. “What we need from you, Dr. Binder, is to give us any help, any sense of perspective you can. After all, you do know this place, do you not?”

Dr. Binder reeled. “Lunatics!” he shouted. “Fucking lunatics and madmen, what the hell are you trying to say to me? (“indeterminate garble*) Would you have me believe in your (more slurred garble* fairytale that I..!”

The good Doctor went to his knees as several of the group caught him, breaking his fall. The poor and shocked Doctor was blathering and crying, insulted at the thought of time travel and wholly not ready for such an academic U turn.

The men around the room shot understanding glances at one another and some moved to support the historian, the greatest scholar on the Mongol era the world had to offer. They had all known it wasn’t going to be easy and they were more than willing to be patient with the good Doctor, who sat in a chair holding a glass of water, head in hands.

He slammed the glass to the ground, and it shattered right along with everything that one Dr. Benjamin Binder had ever thought or known about the world.

“To hell with water”, he sobbed. “Do you have anything stronger?”

Placing a supportive hand on his shoulder, Colonel Jaspar handed him another glass, contents considerably stronger.

Chronopolis

Chapter Five, the Siege of Silistra

Several hours had passed and Doctor Binder’s initial shock had faded a bit. There was very important work to do and all members of Alternity Group knew it. Time was a factor in more ways than one, and the good Doctor Binder really had no choice but to join in and hit the ground running.

He had spent the last two hours studying grease pencil markings adorning the quartermasters chart on the floor at his feet. The red light had been still for at least that long. By this point, it was clear to Doctor Binder exactly where –and when- Commodore Thyme was. Every few moments, he would recognize some historic landmark or other and let out an excited gasp. Other times he would give a thoughtful ‘Hmm’, or cluck his tongue like a disapproving nanny.

Eventually, Senator Stillwell tired of the crash-lesson in Chrononomy going on in the mind of Doctor Binder and rolled his eyes to Colonel Jaspar and the Professor.

“Well, Doctor, can you fill us in on any details you may have ascertained thus far?” asked the Professor.

“Wha? Oh, yes of course professor. Please, uh, what exactly is the question?”

“For starters, what is that stone building? It looks like some sort of temple or church.“

“Your agent stands before the great Fortress at Drastar, the ruins of which still stand; I’ve seen them, at Silistra. What year did you say it was?”

“1278”, said the Colonel.

“Well then”, said Doctor Binder, “I would submit that we may have stumbled upon the last refuge of the Bulgarian Emperor Ivaylo- a pig farmer who rose to power on the swell of a peasant uprising. Twice he defeated the Bulgarian royals, finally forcing the surrounding kingdoms to recognize him as Emperor of Bulgaria.

However, he was never accepted by blue bloods, who called him ‘Bardokva’, which meant ‘cabbage’. It was their indignation that drove Ivaylo into exile at the Fortress of Drastar, deep in the dangerous heart of Mongol territory.”

“What about his offspring?” asked Senator Stillwell. “Commoner or blue blood, who cares? What matters to Alternity Group are his genes”.

“And why?” asked the Doctor.

“For another mission, doctor. A mission about which  information may be given on a need-to-know basis only. Suffice it to say we know Ivaylo had a child. And we know that -after walking out of a pig barnyard- the man gathered an army, awaited the Bulgarian royals who had come to collect forced tribute from the peasants and slaughtered them to a man.

He then did it all a second time, and became Emperor himself! He often repelled Mongol raids, something that was not easily done. Those feats, my good Doctor, are in the genes. Genes like those of the salmon, whose ancestors may have had to swim through only gravel- the resulting genes are those of survival, of triumph!” came the Senators reply.

“The child”, asked the Professor. “What about the child, Doctor?”

Doctor Benjamin Binder chewed a fingernail and stared at his feet, digging through his memory for the details.

“Got it!” he shouted.“See there- those horses tied up throughout the area? Those markings and dress are 12th-century Mongol. Gentleman, you are witness to the siege at Drastar, the modern day site of Silistra. I would bet that Ivaylo is already holed up in there” said Doctor Binder.

“And what about his offspring?” the Professor asked again.

“After defeating Constantine Tikh, the previous Emperor, Ivaylo married his wife, Byzantine Princess Maria Kantakouzene. They are known to have had one child. The name of that child has never been known. She must be inside with him.”

Justin rested outside the fortress on one knee, listening to the scholarly history lesson via chronophone as though his life depended on it- and it did. But more than that, the very existence of Chronopolis depended on it.

Simultaneously, a shout startled the Alternity Group. It was Doctor Binder.“Of course! Now I remember! The Mongols had already twice been defeated by Ivaylo, took no chances this time, sending a major army against him.” That army was arriving by the minute, and in droves.

“Ivaylo may have been hated” he continued, “but the royals still held affection for Lady Maria, and so arranged for her to be secretly smuggled out of the fortress, just as the siege began. Senator, order your Commodore to go around…” But there was no need. The quartermasters chart already showed the red light moving around to the back of the fortress.  

Chronopolis

Chapter Six, Bridge to Forever

He was tall by Mongol standards, but stood only shoulder high to his horse. They both wore heavy fur for warmth and it was likely they had never been any further apart in their lives than they were at the moment. Mongol boys rode before they learned to dress themselves, and often they adorned their equine counterparts to match their own dress, braid for braid, strap for strap.

This time unfortunately, a swift slash to the throat brought the relationship to an untimely end. A small group of cloaked figures crouched in the bushes just behind, one calming the steed, another dragging the man’s now lifeless body into the thicket. Only their eyes were visible through the wraps of their cloaks and they communicated by hand signals.

Very stealthy, thought Agent Thyme, watching from his position submerged in a moat that surrounded the fortress. Yet stealthier still, he remained motionless beneath a small foot bridge, allowing not even a ripple upon the water that might betray him. Their feet padded the wooden boards above him as they crossed the bridge single file, like rats boarding a ship. Only the glint of blades carried in their teeth could give them away.

When they reached the stone wall, the leader held his hands to his mouth, and the mournful sound of a night owl wafted almost imperceptibly up and over the ramparts.A broad wooden door creaked open, and a satchel of gold appeared from beneath a dark cloak. A moment later, a slight, hooded figure was pushed outside the confines of the fortress.

The leader snatched hood from head, revealing the red hair of a woman. But no child thought Thyme, from his watery perch mere feet away- no child! Suddenly a bell rang out, shattering the nights calm, and the solid chunk of a crossbow was heard pinning men three deep to the heavy wooden door. Flaming arrows began a deadly rain from the fortress walls, landing in and around the surrounding bush, where Mongol catapults were now being rolled into place.

In the confusion, the silent ones did their best to shield the red haired woman using their own bodies, but hell had broken loose and there was no quarter. Beneath the bridge, Thyme checked his wrist-worn oscillator- it read 10 seconds. Under the heavy rain of arrows rocks and oil, he could wait no longer.

He stretched his hand around the edge of the bridge and grasped a petite ankle, yanking her into the moat. Only death stood atop the bridge now, as the wooden door slammed tightly and Mongol spears poked the water, searching for royal Bulgarian flesh. 

Several feet below, the Lady Maria struggled in submerged silence, trying to break loose from the stranger who held his body close to her own. Through murky water, she saw something on his wrist shine like a diamond, and a moment later, bright as the sun. Bubbles of super heated gas boiled to the surface, burning the eyes and throats of spear-poking Mongols, who began running, pointing and shouting.

Back in Chronopolis, a wall speaker translated their shouts into, “Devils! Devils!” As quickly as it had begun, the bubbling stopped, the water quieted, and combatants on both sides stared in wide-eyed horror. All retreated. Later, even though the moat was entirely drained, no bodies were ever found. 

Chronopolis

Chapter Seven, Special Delivery

With all oscillators synchronized and warning of the time travelers imminent return, the members of Alternity group decided on allowing Dr. Benjamin Binder to stay and witness chrononomy in action- the miracle of time travel. He joined the eight scientists who sat in a semicircle, strapped into their seats. All of them wore protective suits and dark safety glasses, similar to those used to watch an eclipse.

Several yards away, a wall stretched floor to ceiling made of Permaglass, one of the many peripheral discoveries the group had stumbled upon. Permaglass was an alloy of sand and carbon steel, incredibly strong and quite transparent. In fact, two such walls stood between the observers and the field to be disrupted; a mere fifty feet away, stood the entrance to the Chrona.

All in the room wore an oscillator on their wrist with a digital readout synchronized with the one worn by the Commodore, and each one read 4 minutes. The Alternity Group sat watching and waiting, adrenaline coursing through their bodies.

In 2067, an alarm went off that sounded like an angry hornet. In 1278, a scepter found the neck of a Mongol.

In 2067, beads of cold sweat formed on nine foreheads.

In 1278, silent footsteps padded across a wooden bridge.

In 2067, all lights went dark in the facility.

In 1278, the hoot of an owl sailed o’er the fortress ramparts.

In Chronopolis, the air crackled with static electricity, signifying another change to reality was imminent.

All sights and sounds at Alternity Groups subterranean facility ceased, as the Chrona sucked up all available power. A half dozen yellow dwarf stars within several light years of Chronopolis dimmed in space, as their collected energy arced a single Gamma beam directly into a portal on the planet’s surface.

In 1278, a side door opened, and gold was exchanged for an auburn-haired princess- then all hell broke loose.

In 2067, a six-star Gamma Ray entered the planets crust and rode an optic conduit down into the heart of the Alternity facility, where the Chrona began to feast like a giant carnivorous reptile.

The ground trembled only slightly more than did Doctor Benjamin Binder, as he observed the miracle of an energized Chrona, emitting other-worldly whines, lights and smells.“Fantastic!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“All the power in this sector of the cosmos, focused on a single spot!” answered the professor, seated beside him.

Then, with a giant hiss and a cumulus cloud of white steam, the gargantuan Chrona fell silent. After that display, however, it would always remain as menacing in dormancy as it was in action.    

Chronopolis

Chapter Eight, Slight Return

The large room was musky with the smell of a thousand drowned campfires as the steam began to clear. The Chrona still gave off an occasional electrical charge, like the last pops of a popcorn maker. Colonel Jaspar was the first to remove the protective glasses that had saved their eyes. He turned them around to inspect for heat damage, and saw the reflection of his cheeks, now red enough to be those of a Plains Indian.

A military man, the Colonel always felt duty-bound to shepherd the rest of the group, and so sprang from his seat to help the others. The rip of Velcro could be heard over and over as restraints were removed from the arms of each observer. When the last puffs of opaque white gas finally cleared, the group stood, mouths agape at the surreal scene spread before them. On the metallic floor of the Chrona’s receiving area lay the bodies of a man and a woman. Both appeared naked, bruised and burned, and the surrounding area was strewn with charred remnants of their clothing.

An Alternity Alert team entered the room via elevator and made short work of strapping the unconscious man and woman onto gurneys. They were quickly wheeled to another area of the facility. Several attendants stayed behind to hose down and sanitize the maw of the machine, which smelled like a smoldering peat bog.

“I want samples of the moat water and any green plant matter they brought back with them. Swab them and have them sent to the lab for analysis, make cultures if you can. There may be some advantages in their 800-year old makeup” ordered the professor.

“Less lead, certainly, and other pollutants and impurities” the Doctor offered.

Back in his own office, Senator Stilwell plopped himself hard into a comfortable recliner, and stared blankly into the ceiling lights that were still giving an occasional flicker. The crew stood nearby, strewn about the room in various measures of repose. The Professor, who sat scribbling on a note pad in his lap, was the first to speak. “At this point, Justin will have to recover a bit before he is debriefed. The woman, of course, is another story entirely. Child or no child, she is very important to us scientifically, if for no other reason”.

“I agree”, said the Senator. “If you can imagine what it’s like to dig a Bronze Age man out of the ice alive, then you can grasp the significance of her arrival at Alternity”.

Satisfied smiles were passed around the office like hot cups of freshly brewed coffee. Some of the men searched through their memories for a suitable place in their history to store the achievement. Others cast their minds forward, mapping out the next important step.

“Our lady is certain to remain in shock for an unknown time. Who knows? Perhaps such an abrupt change of worlds isn’t even survivable”, the Senator continued.

“Balderdash”, injected the doctor. “Your own Commodore has already disproven that theory.”

“But this is a woman from antiquity, with goodness knows what quirks in physiology and psychology” answered the Professor.

“Not to mention any pre-existing physical condition” said Doctor Binder.

“Ah, spoken like a true M.D.” laughed the Senator. “In any case, we’ll have to wait for the examination results from upstairs.”

At that moment, a pleasant hum emanated from a chronophone on the antique oak desk. Senator Stilwell waved a hand over the top of the device, causing a hologram to snap into view above it. It hovered like a faerie.

“Senator Stilwell, the Commodore is awake” spoke the apparition.

“What’s the lady’s condition?” the Senator barked back.

“Sleeping soundly” came the reply. “Oh, and Senator? We’ve found the child- preliminary tests show Lady Maria is pregnant.”

“We’ll be right up. Out” answered the Senator. “Professor, come with me. The rest of you get to work- we’ll be needing a linguistics expert and-“

“That would be me”, said Doctor Binder.

“Very well then; the rest of you can prepare implementation of the program we formulated to keep our new guest from losing her marbles. Poor soul is sure to be frightened at all of this”, said the Senator, gesturing to the hospital-like surroundings. “Alternity Headquarters would frighten anybody, especially someone from antiquity. We’ve got to be cautious and gentle.” Turning to a nurse, he said, “Keep a supply of sedatives available at all times, we’re going to- she’s going to- need them. Let’s go Professor”.

Senator Stilwell and the Professor stood thoughtfully, the concern on their faces quite evident until hidden by the slowly closing elevator doors.

Chronopolis

Chapter Nine, Debriefing Thyme

As Senator Stilwell and the Professor walked the last yards of Alternity’s infirmary wing, they could hear the robust laughter of Commodore Justin Thyme booming through the halls. It was during a pause they entered the room. There they came upon the newly returned agent sitting upright on a bed wearing a hospital gown flung violently open at the chest.  

His civilian clothes sat next to him in a neat pile, the nurses having gone to extra care in their washing, pressing and folding. Several of his items were never returned at all but he pretended not to notice. Two red-faced nurses giggled guiltily in the doorway as he flashed them a knowing smile.

“He’s all yours”, said a member of the Alternity Alert Team, who was just putting away a stethoscope. “He’s a dam ox, is what he is”.

“Thank you Doctor, we’ll take it from here” said the Senator.

The doctor shook the hand of Justin Nicholas Thyme and left the room, dragging two reluctant nurses along with him.

Senator Stilwell threw the Commodore’s ‘civvies’ roughly into his chest. “Put these on” he scolded.

“Yes sir” said Justin. “Well would you look at that- my other sock! I’ve been looking for it for 800 years!” Curly blonde locks bounced atop the agents head as he bowled himself over with hearty laughter at his own words.

The Senator and Professor looked at each other with a sideward glance, both shaking their own heads with wry smiles. “Look alive Justin, we’ve got work to do”, said Senator Stilwell.

“Welcome back Justin” the professor added.

“What’s first?” asked the Commodore.

“Let’s play Q and A” answered the professor.

“Glad to. I’d like to see the Chrona. Can we talk there? How did it work?”

“How the hell do you think it worked, Justin- you’re here, aren’t you?” barked Senator Stilwell.

“Was it loud though? Was it messy? Did it happen all at once or-“

“Commodore Thyme, we will be doing the asking and you will be doing the telling, got it?” the Senator asked impatiently. “There’ll be plenty of opportunity to satisfy your curiosity.”

“Yes sir, I understand. It’s just all so-“

“We know. We’re excited as kids ourselves.”

“Speaking of kids, did the girl…”

“Agent Commodore?” barked the Senator, cutting off the conversation.

The three were stopped by a thick metallic hatch, where a womans voice challenged them for identification. Each stood close to the wall and looked straight into a small scanning hole, where a line of light rolled over their retina. “Thank you” the voice concluded. The hatch popped open with a loud clang that reverberated throughout the halls, like visitors hour at Sing-Sing.

“Thank you”, answered Thyme.

A round of applause burst forth when they entered the main laboratory area, where seven adoring members of Alternity Group flashed victory signs at the Commodore, who was smiling broadly. The Senator stood, hands on hips, looking down at the deck with a smile of his own. They were all proud of Thyme, who had been the picture of fearlessness through some very uneasy goings, and the group needed to get it out of their systems, so the Senator let it roll. Justin raised up a hand to stop them but to no avail, so he placed the hand to his heart and patted himself there.

When the group had turned back toward their duties, the three men repeated the eye scanning procedure twice more as they passed through the permaglass shields. “Thank you” came the soft, if androidal voice of a woman, as each portal opened with a reverberating clang.

Finally, they stood before the gargantuan Chrona.

“Wow!” exclaimed Thyme. “I’ve never seen anything like this in all my days”.

“Sure you have” said the Professor. “You just don’t remember it, that’s all”.

“You were caught up in a firestorm on your way out, and in a cloudburst on your way in” said the Senator. “Here’s a video of your return entry to Chronopolis this morning. There, on the large monitor up there”. The Senator pointed toward the top of a tall cinderblock construct.

As he watched the action, Agent Thyme was clearly shaken. Laying there naked and wet in the receiving area of the Chrona, he had looked like only so much road kill. He was very concerned for the girl as well, whom thus far he had not even met.

At that moment, there was a pleasant hum from the chronophone. Senator Stilwell waved his hand over it once again, and up popped the holograph, which said, “Senator Stilwell, the woman has awakened”.

Chronopolis

Chapter Ten, Good Morning Maria

It was difficult to tell who was having a worse time of it- the nurse, shaking with exhaustion or the awakening Lady Maria, lying on the table in wide-eyed terror. Over the intercom, an emergency announcement came accompanied by the sound of glass vials hitting the floor, unintelligible shouting and loud smacking sounds.

“Alert team to infirmary on the double, we need help please!” came the nurse’s plea.

Unable to administer a sedative until the Alternity Group arrived, the small nursing crew seemed to have a tiger by the tail. The woman in their care was petite, but amazingly strong.

Over the intercom, the nurse came again, “Senator, Professor, somebody please, get the hell up here- the subject is awake and uncontrollable!”

The Professor and Senator Stilwell shot each other a quick look and ran for the elevator, which they found to be in use.”Over there!” shouted Professor, pointing toward an emergency staircase- and this was an emergency. The slap of footsteps on metal echoed throughout the stairwell as the men climbed like school children in a fire drill.

Up above, the nurse had long since given up on following protocol, and was attempting to administer a powerful sedative to the raging woman. Apparently, the sight of the needle being wielded by a strangely dressed, strangely smelling woman, in a very strange room was too much for the groggy patient from the 13^th century, and she fought for all she was worth.

Two orderlies pounced on either side of the hospital bed doing their best to constrict her hand movements as the nurse brought the needle to bear. They all saw the terror in her eyes and sympathized with her, but they had their job to do. As the needle touched her arm, the woman looked down toward her feet, and then raised her head slowly up in a blood-curdling scream, that was half wolf howl, from deep within her diaphragm. Her eyes burned a fiery green, like none in the modern world, something they had never seen before. Using that moment of shock, the ferocious woman broke free, staved off the needle, won control of it, and stabbed the nurse repeatedly in the throat.

At that moment the Professor and Senator Stilwell entered the room and threw themselves atop the madness, finally pinning the patient down. They held her there as a new sedative was prepared. The nurse, bleeding profusely, was rushed to the next room, now an emergency situation herself.

With the sedative finally administered, the Lady Maria began to drift off, murmuring in a strange language from her rosebud lips.

“Whew”, said the Professor. “Whew!”

Senator Stilwell waved a hand over the chronophone. Up popped a hologram whose artificial but softly feminine voice uttered the greeting, “Hello Senator”.

“Send Doctor Binder up immediately please. I want the recent conversation translated, every nuance- I want to know what this girl is saying, every word, from now on. And no more chances” he said, looking toward the nursing crew. It was now obvious to all of them they were dealing with something they didn’t fully understand, and it had just cost them. From next door, the steady beep of a heart rate monitor suddenly morphed into a buzzing monotone. The crew ran into the next room, but to no avail- the poor nurse had just died.  

Chronopolis

Chapter Eleven, the Danger Lobby

The hum of a chronophone alerted Senator Stilwell that outside authorities had arrived at Alternity Group headquarters, wanting to ask ‘a few questions’. He waved a hand over the device like a magician about to pull a rabbit out of a top hat. “Hello, Senator” said the apparition.

“Yes, what is it?”he asked.

“Lieutenant Junior Grade Baxter to see you in the lobby, Senator”.

“Hold him off, I’ll be up in five minutes” answered the Senator.

The chronophone hummed a second time. The Senator was busy reading the Alternity Alert team’s official report of the incident and waved his hand over the chronophone without looking. The hologram appeared once more and said “Detective Raskins of the Chronopolis Police Department in the lobby to see you, Senator”.

“Tell him to wait with the Lieutenant, I’ll be right there”.

Senator Stilwell waved his hand in the opposite direction and a chronophone began humming in the laboratory. The Professor waved his hand, and up popped a hologram that said, “Professor, please meet me in my office. We’re going up to the lobby to answer some questions for local police and the military. I’m going to lie, and I’ll need you to swear to it”.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Senator”, he answered.

“Good” said the Senator, “you’re lying already”.

Back in the infirmary wing, the nurses all stood in a circle around Commodore Thyme, sniffling and sobbing. Justin stood in the middle, his muscular arms wrapped around all of them like an oversized mother hen. He didn’t know the deceased very well, but all who worked on the Chrona project were family. He wished there were something he could say to ease their pain, but it wouldn’t do any good to lie to them. The situation sucked, and they all knew it. A young, vital girl, entering the prime of her life- it all seemed such a waste. And though he didn’t like to think of it, there were other dangers, other considerations to an unfortunate ‘industrial’ accident such as this. That is when the chronophone began an incessant hum.

The Professor had arrived at the Senators office and could tell right away things were awful. His sullen eyes gave it away. They left the office together and headed upstairs via the same emergency staircase used during the last crisis. It was best the best way to get a look at what they were walking into, also known as ‘casing the joint’.

The lobby was a red carpet affair, featuring chandeliers, floor length red velvet drapes, and a candle lit dining area. Quite the classy setting for a John Dillinger-type showdown, thought Lieutenant Baxter, fingering his suspenders nervously.  He hated to make a personal judgment without first having all the facts, but in a case like this- a dead woman, a secretive, private boys club, enormous money, high-level connections- as far as he was concerned, it was a foregone conclusion the operation was guilty. He was determined to shut it down.

Detective Raskins could not have agreed more and he said so.

“I’m satisfied as I need to be, Lieutenant. I’m gonna call them in”.

“I already have, John”, said Lieutenant Baxter.

From the nearby stairwell platform, Senator Stilwell cracked the door just so slightly ajar and peeked through.

“What’s going on?” whispered the Professor.

The Senator shushed him, and whispered back, “Take a look”.

Two heads peered cunningly into the lobby from behind the reception area, about ten yards from where the Lieutenant and Detective sat, both busy using their ear-piece head sets, the modern day version of walkie-talkies. The doors on either side of the large hall now swung wide, revealing two major forces entering the building, one from the left and one from the right. The police wore blue and yellow, the military a dark cammoflouge. All were armed to the teeth.

“Shit”, whispered the Senator.

The Professor grimaced. “What are we going to do?” he asked.

“Well” said the Senator, “I know what we aren’t going to do; we aren’t going to let them shut us down- there’s just too much at stake”.

They retreated back into the stairwell and headed toward the next set of doors, where a chronophone protruded slightly from the wall. With a wave of his hand, the Senator set the infirmary chronophone humming. He looked back at the Professor and told him, “When you’ve got Commodore Justin Nicholas Thyme, dammit, you use him!”

Chronopolis

Chapter Twelve, the Scarlet Ruse

Justin waved a ham-sized hand over the chronophone, and the hologram popped up like a jack-in-the-box. He struggled to listen over the sobbing nurses, but what he did hear made his eyes open wide. The crew members in the hospital room saw in his face a call to action, but he shook his head at them and mouthed the words, “It’s nothing”.

Down in the laboratory, all lights went low and a series of spinning yellow alert lanterns whirled from atop every cinderblock structure. These were the spinning, silent alarms giving the Alternity Group the coded mayday message, ‘all systems go’.

The Professor sent his own message via chronophone to the lab as well, where scientists stood in a long row at an enormous white-metal wall that served as the brain center and control panel for the facility. Switches were flipped, buttons pushed, and knobs were turned. Skilled hands waved over small multi-colored lights atop what looked to be a 20^th century recording studio mixing board. In fact, that is exactly what it was and from whence it had been retrieved, during a previous mission to re-invent analog, in the event digital formats ever failed.

“Ren-tabulator?” called an operator in a white smock with pens clipped to every pocket.

“Check”, came the reply from an orderly.

“Co-band power influxulator?”

“Check.”

“Delta chip engagement facilitator?”

“Uh, wait-“

“Delta chip enga-“

“Check, check!”

“Peri-hydroxide transparency simulator?”

“Check”.

“OK gentleman”, said Colonel Jaspar, “we are go in 5-4-3-2-“

The whine of a giant generator took up its crescendo from almost imperceptible to a loud fever pitch. The facility lights came back on and the Chrona began emitting a sound like that of sizzling bacon. Yellow lanterns continued to whirl, faster and faster.

At that moment, the Professor and Senator Stilwell entered the main lobby upstairs, walking through the door like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The Professor had since removed his white smock, leaving it behind on the stairs. The Senator led them toward a dinner table strewn with dirty plates and half-empty wine glasses. He reached into his pocket, searched for some currency and threw a small roll of bills down on the table. The Professor simultaneously looked over at a young hispanic man bussing tables and shouted, “Thank you”. Never breaking stride, they locked eyes with the Detective and Lieutenant, and walked straight toward them. The Detective stood up from his chair reaching his full six foot height, thumbs tucked into his suspenders. Lieutenant Junior Grade Baxter rose to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

 The Professor noticed a small yellow light on the ceiling beginning to spin quietly. Then, as was the plan, he and the Senator looked toward each other with puzzled looks on their faces. They shrugged their shoulders, and looked back at the pair of lawmen with furrowed brows that said, “What’s with these guys?”

 Neither the Detective nor Lieutenant had ever seen any of the members of Alternity Group, and these two gentlemen didn’t seem to fit the bill- so they stepped aside and let them by.

The two continued their ruse until they passed all the uniformed police and soldiers in the entranceway, only breaking into a trot when they had left the building.

“Where to, Senator?” asked the Professor.

“”The Mile-High across town. We’ll rent the penthouse suite for a few days and control the mission from there”.

Chronopolis

Chapter Thirteen, the Art of Alternity

By the time the Commodore submitted to the second retina scan, the police were done with pleasantries and had begun using a battering ram on the laboratory doors. Justin entered the portal and took his place in the Chrona. Scientists of several disciplines began hastily strapping themselves into position for the Chrona to begin energizing, and those already done sat fumbling for their protective glasses. Colonel Jaspar waved a shaking hand over the nearest chronophone, but the holograph came up empty, saying “Try again later”.  

Just the other side of the metal alloy hatch, Detective Raskins stood shaking his head at the futility of the battering ram. He turned to Lieutenant Baxter saying, “She’s all yours, Lieutenant” –and the military took over.

The Professor and Senator walked briskly down a side street leading to the Mile High, which was the most expensive luxury hotel in Chronopolis. They passed a group of artists who were working on a clandestine wall mural, and overheard a snippet of their conversation.

“There! Tell me you don’t feel it!” said one, pausing from his work.

“Feel what, your imagination again?” another retorted.

“I’m tellin’ ya, there’s something going on. There- look at her hair!” He pointed to a girl nearby who held several cans of spray paint. Her pretty brown hair was standing on end.

“That’s a good sign, Senator” said the Professor.

They arrived at the Mile High a few minutes later. “Ouch!” yelled the doorman, who received a powerful shock from static electricity as he touched the polished metal door handle.

The Senator nodded his appreciation and flipped him a valuable coin. The doorman smiled, shaking the pain from his hand. “That makes it better” he said, appreciatively.

They waited in a short line at the ornately decorated reception desk and were soon led to the penthouse suite by a bellhop who lusted for a shiny coin of his own. Once in the room, they set up a portable chronophone and it immediately began to hum. The Senator waved a hand over it, and up popped a hologram saying, “Senator? Colonel Jaspar. They’re breaking down the hatchway. Thyme is a go. Chrona is a go. Waiting for the order sir.”

“Set the Chrona for fourteen reverse hours. What does he need?” asked the Senator.

“Wait one” said the Colonel. He turned to lock eyes with Justin Thyme, who sat sweating profusely in the portal area of the Chrona. Colonel Jaspar slapped his wrist, and the Commodore held first one, then two fingers aloft in response.

“He says he needs two hours, sir” said the Colonel, speaking into the center of the holograph.

“Very well, set the Oscillator for two hours. Godspeed, Colonel”

“Godspeed, Senator, and Godspeed Commodore Thyme- Colonel Jaspar, out!”

In the hotel suite, the Professor patted his friend on the back, and gestured for him to take a seat. Senator Stilwell just shook his head.

 “Can’t”, he said, and spent the next two hours pacing the room back and forth.

Chronopolis

Chapter Fourteen, Changing History

The Chrona began its characteristic routine of draining all available energy from everything around it. The machines in the lab saw their indicator lights go dim, the house lights went dark and outside the hatchway, the police and military were suddenly thrust into darkness. Detective Raskins ordered up a lantern, but its powerful halogen light quickly went dim.

“What the hell is wrong with the lantern now?” he yelled in a raspy voice.

“Here, try this one- it’s the latest military technology” said Lieutenant Baxter. He handed the Detective a flashlight that could have been mistaken for an alien death-ray- but it too went suddenly dim.

“Dammit!”, shouted the Lieutenant. He smacked the fancy gadget like a stubborn stepchild, but to no avail.

“What the hell…?” said Detective Raskins, and the entire building began to shake.

“Earthquake?” asked Lieutenant Baxter.

“Don’t bet on it”, came the Detectives reply.

Inside the laboratory, the Chronas forced winds began spinning like a misty cyclone. “Engage electromagnets!” barked Colonel Jaspar.

From his seat, Doctor Benjamin Binder watched the unfolding events with eyes now shut tightly, now wide with terror. Somewhere out in near-space, a yellow dwarf star dimmed slightly, sending the energy equivalent of ten years of summer into a yawning cave somewhere on the verdant grounds of Alternity Group headquarters. From there, it rode a fiber-optic cable of immeasurable strength down into the heart of the facility, where it fed the prehistoric beast called Chrona.

Commodore Thyme lay belly down on the floor of the Chronas’ portal and spread his arms and legs wide. His training had taught him this was the best position to be in- ready for anything.

“Bring it on!” he thought in his mind, adrenaline pumping into his system by what seemed like the gallon. The world around him started to revolve, slowly at first, very slowly- then faster, faster and faster, until he found himself floating stationary in the center of a giant atom, and he himself was the nucleus.

Then, as soon as it had begun, it was over, slowing down until he could make out the night sky, the moon spinning around him like a towel on spin cycle. He felt himself lurching forward, falling through empty space. He maintained the spread eagle prone position, and landed arms akimbo, flat on his belly.

He shook the cobwebs from his head, and used his gloved hands to pat out several smoldering patches on his survival suit. Staggering to his feet like a drunk, he fought his buckling knees several times, until he mastered control once again. “E-e-e, God, that’s wicked” he said to himself aloud.

Looking about, he saw that he had landed in the depths of a hover craft mooring facility next door. He sat on the cement floor of a trash container housing, and leaned his back against the wall. Checking his Oscillator, he had one hour and 45 minutes to accomplish what he had set out to do.

He felt through his pockets for his tools and came up with two sticks of ordinary writing chalk, one bright white, and one bright yellow. “Check!” he thought. He felt a bit deeper and came up with a thick roll of duct tape. “Check” he thought again. “Alright- I always knew I’d change history!” he said aloud.   

Chronopolis

Chapter Fifteen, Second Future

The Commodore decided to take the direct route into the facility next door. Utilizing a master-control card, he entered a hovercraft, activated the drive and maneuvered it vertically through a portal in the dome roof above. Once clear of the mooring facility, Justin landed in a field and deactivated the craft. He looked down at his wrist oscillator. It told him he had an hour and a half to save the Alternity Group.

With no time to waste, he walked straight for the facility’s main entrance, the same entrance the Senator and Professor would use to make their quick exit some 13 hours from now- if Justin failed. He was still one hundred yards from the entrance when the guards recognized him. He held up a friendly hand and they looked at each other in disbelief.

“Justin Nicholas Thyme!” exclaimed one. The other just stood silently, grinning ear to ear. “And to what do we owe this distinguished pleasure, Commodore?” asked the guard, raising a hand to wave it over his chronophone.

“No, please don’t do that” implored Justin, placing a much larger hand over the guard’s.

“Sorry, it’s procedure” answered the guard, trying it again.

Thyme was more forceful now, holding the guards hand immobile. “Please, if you’ll just hear me out a moment- this is above top secret. As far as you’re concerned, I am not here at all.”

“Sir?” asked the puzzled guard.

“Check the log- go ahead, check it. I’ll bet the record shows I’m still inside, away on a mission, right? Well, in a way, I still am”, explained the time traveler, “and I have to get into that building. Alternity Group, hell, Chronopolis depends on it! Now can I depend on you boys to maintain complete silence?”

“For how long?” asked a guard,

“Forever” answered Thyme. “You must never tell a living soul this happened- because it didn’t!” He looked down at his wrist, saw the minutes ticking by and became more adamant.

“Listen carefully boys” said the Commodore. “Let me through, call no one, and tell no one -ever-and you can write your own ticket- retire tomorrow with benefits, full pension, what do you say?” asked Thyme.

One guard was still suspicious and again raised a hand to his chronophone, causing Justin’s eyes to blaze like coals. With a sigh, he reached for his polaser, placed it between the guard’s eyes, and shook his head from side to side. “Try to understand, we’re out of options here. This can end two ways, and one way is a lot better than the other, but I’m going through, understand? I have to!”

They stepped aside and let him through. Neither had seen a polaser before and only now believed in their existence. Justin looked back and held a finger to his lips, urging them to remain quiet one last time. They returned to their stances and guarded the doors at parade rest.

Once inside the building, it was a simple run up a flight of stairs and a brisk walk down the hallway. When Thyme reached the infirmary wing, he stopped outside the room where he had awoken, or, would soon awake, -he shook his head in mock confusion- and took a careful peek inside. There on the gurney, lay an unconscious Justin Thyme! Again, he shook his head; this time the confusion was genuine.

He tip toed into the room listening to the rhythmic breathing of his doppelganger. He leaned over his own body to press a button for the nurse-on-call, and felt a strange electrical charge, an attraction of some paradoxical sort. The two bodies wanted to meld, the hair on both standing on end. His extremities tingled as though asleep, and he marveled at this nether-situation the Chrona had created. Finally, he tapped the call button, left the room, and took refuge in a nearby service closet. Justin the rescuer heard the footsteps of the soon-to-be deceased nurse as she scurried by to enter the room where Justin the patient lay. A moment later, the intercom blared, “Senator Stilwell, the Commodore is awake!”

Chronopolis

Chapter Sixteen, Wolves at the Doorway

Lieutenant Junior Grade Baxter inspected the charges his special operations team had set around the laboratory hatchway. “Are you sure you used enough explosive in the charges?” he asked his sergeant.

“Yessir”, came the reply.

“Good- now we’ll have to wait for permission to blow it” he said, rolling his eyes.

Several feet away, the members of Alternity Group stood around the quartermasters chart, following the movements of Commodore Thyme, via a moving red light.

“He landed in the mooring facility next door”, said Colonel Jaspars, “somehow scaled the wall, and walked into this building right through the front doors.”

“So, your agent is now inside this very building?” asked Dr. Binder.

“He’s inside this building, Doctor, yes- but not now. Commodore Thyme is in this building twelve and some-odd hours ago” answered the Colonel.

“Colonel, here’s the overlay of our facility on the second floor. The infirmary wing is right….here” said a member of the crew.

“Alright” said the Colonel, “so then the red light corresponds to..”

“Service closet 22-02-01, located between Lady Maria’s room and the one the Commodore himself was in when he regained consciousness” the crew member finished for him.

“He’s keeping out of sight, no doubt- the Commodore knows what he’s doing” said the Colonel, crossing his fingers on the hand in his pocket. He waved his other hand over the chronophone, and up popped a hologram. It made a ghostly light in the laboratory, where all lights were out except those on the quartermasters chart.

“Yes Colonel Jaspers?” asked the apparition with the feminine voice.

“Get me Senator Stilwell please” he ordered.

High above Chronopolis, Senator Stilwell and the Professor stood on a 17^th floor balcony, each nursing a strong, dry, two-olive martini. The hum of the chronophone brought them back inside, where no one would see the hologram.

“Go ahead Jaspars” said the Senator.

“He’s on the inside, hidden in close proximity to the subject. No telling what his next move will be, but I’m sure he’s got an ace up his sleeve” said Colonel Jaspers.

“That’s what we pay him for” said the Senator. What about the wolves?”

“They’re camped outside the hatch, howling for meat” answered the Colonel. “Our sensors indicate they’ve placed cordite charges that could blow anytime. I really don’t know what they’re waiting for”.   

“Permission”, said the Senator. “Thank God for beaurocracy. Stilwell out”.

“Out” said Jaspers.

“Colonel, he’s moving” shouted the crew member, pointing to the red light on the large, transparent floor chart.

“Where to?” asked the Colonel.

“Looks like he’s moving toward Lady Maria’s room sir” came the answer.

A dozen scientists stood in the darkness, their worried faces illuminated by colored lights, those worries illuminated by the wolves outside the hatchway door. All stared down intently as the high stakes game of cat and mouse played out before them on the world’s most expensive game board. Once again, the future -and their fates- depended on Justin Nicholas Thyme.

Chronopolis

Chapter Seventeen, Writing on the Wall

When the intercom announced his own previous awakening, Justin slipped quietly out of the service closet and into the next room, where Lady Maria still lay sleeping quietly. He smiled and took a moment to admire the sleeping woman, who in fact was, after all, the Princess of Bulgaria.

In the space of 800 years, it seemed the human condition had undergone quite a metamorphosis. This little lady had fought with the ferocity of a tiger, and would soon wake to do so again! Justin decided he had better not waste any more time. Holding two sticks of chalk, he sized up the room from the vantage point of the nurse in relation to a chalkboard each shift used for notes. On the board, he wrote in bright, wide letters, ‘Keep Patient Restrained’.

Upon returning to the service closet, he leaned back against the deep sink to catch his breath. Outside, he heard his own laughter coming from the room. Merry as it was, it set his spine tingling.

His oscillator showed four minutes before he would return to his time of origin. From another pocket, he pulled out a roll of duct tape and busied himself taping up the space between the floor and the closet door. After applying several layers, he taped the spaces between the door and wall, across the top, and back down the other side. After making sure the door was locked, he checked the oscillator once again.

With the readout at three minutes, he reached behind his back and opened the sink’s two faucets full blast.

Another announcement over the intercom informed the facility that Lady Maria had awoken. The nurse searched the sedative tray with her back toward the chalkboard and continued to do so as precious seconds ticked by. The strange language and antiseptic surroundings filled Maria with terror, and she began to struggle. Only then did the nurse look up at the chalk board- but it was too late. Even the full nursing crew couldn’t restrain the woman in time.

From service closet 22-02-01, Justin heard the commotion and knew instinctively his plan hadn’t worked. He shook his head in dissatisfaction, then looked down into his lap and smiled- just in time to see the water rise up and swallow all the hypodermic needles he had hurriedly collected before leaving that room. Maria the wildcat wouldn’t be stabbing anyone.

Back in the chaos of the hospital room, the nurse screamed for someone, anyone, to run out to the service closet and retrieve sedatives. Justin’s heart began to race; the rise of the now waist-high water was excruciatingly slow. Holding the door closed with one hand, he watched the oscillator countdown on the other. Outside the door, a voice yelled that service closet 22-02-01 was locked.

“Break it down!” came a reply.

Chronopolis

Chapter Eighteen, Countdown

The footsteps of a messenger echoed through the corridor, and a crush of heavily armed soldiers parted for him like the Red Sea.  “Communication from the General for Lieutenant Baxter” saluted the messenger, standing at attention.

“It’s about time! Very well messenger, that is all” replied the Lieutenant, returning his salute with a white gloved hand. “Alright, everybody, let’s clear the area. Detective Raskins, get your men out of here”.

“Will do Lieutenant” said the Policeman. He turned to his swat team and said “You heard him ladies, it’s gonna get ugly- let’s back it up!”

The two officers used a megaphone-like device to warn those inside to stand clear for the impending blast, then backed away themselves.

Inside the lab, Alternity Group members stood with eyes transfixed on the floor chart, watching a white-knuckle drama that had occurred some twelve hours earlier. “Jeeze” said Colonel Jaspers, “It’s like a sports replay; let’s just hope it ends differently this time”.

Outside the hatchway, Lieutenant Baxter wasted no time in giving the order- “Let the countdown begin at t-minus ten…nine..

Twelve hours earlier, Justin Nicholas Thyme strained to hold the closet door closed as several orderlies hacked at it from outside with what sounded like a machete. “There’s someone in there!” one of them cried out.

The water inside service closet 22-02-01 was now chest high. Looking down at his wrist oscillator, Justin began a countdown of his own. “Eight….seven…six…”

High above Chronopolis in the Penthouse suite of the Mile High, Senator Stilwell and the Professor were white-knuckling it themselves as the lab crew broadcast both countdowns for them over an open holograph. ‘Five…four…’

Back in Service Closet 22-02-01, machetes breaking through the door accompanied the oscillator countdown. ‘Three…two…’

Back in the facility, Detective Raskins used both arms to cover his head. “One….zero!”

Justin contorted his neck trying to completely submerge his head, but the water reached only to his square chin. As a last resort, he tilted his head to the side like a thinking blonde, a machete strike barely missing his nose.

When Service closet 22-02-01 began to revolve around him, his red light on the laboratory’s floor chart began to flicker, and each Alternity member was strapped tightly into a chair. “Glasses on!” Colonel Jaspars screamed over the Chrona’s din.

Commodore Justin Nicholas Thyme found himself floating in silence, serene as a jellyfish adrift in the depths of a peaceful sea. He thought he could make out faces in the whirling maelstrom around him, lights, sparks, perhaps memories of different times that have been. Suddenly, the spinning slowed, and he felt himself pitched forward onto his belly like a seal. Then all was blackness.

Chronopolis

Chapter Nineteen, Cheers

The air in the laboratory was charged with static electricity, indicating to Colonel Jaspars a changed reality. But changed how? The Alternity Group sat strapped in their seats, the concern on their faces illuminated by flashing light.

 The whirring Chrona slowed to a stop and de-energized with a whine. All fell silent in the large room as the giant machine spat Justin’s limp body to the floor with a wet hiss and a blast of steam. He lay there naked a good while, as the team unstrapped from their chairs, with all eyes on the booby-trapped hatchway door.

A hologram floated lifelessly above the chronophone Senator Stilwell and the Professor had been using to listen in from their hotel room. “Senator?” inquired Colonel Jaspars. “Senator Stilwell?”

But there was no response. The Alternity Alert team called the Colonel’s attention to a monitor camera on the cinderblock wall, with a view of the hatchway from outside the lab. All was still and quiet.

“Is it some kind of a trick?” asked the Colonel.

“I don’t think so sir” answered the team member, fiddling with a dozen knobs, dials and toggle switches.

Suddenly, the Professor’s voice came over the intercom, requesting Colonel Jaspers to report to Senator Stilwell’s office. With an abundance of care, the hatchway door was opened and the Colonel stepped through. “We did it!” he announced, and cheers shot up throughout the room.

Naked and unconscious, the Commodore was strapped to a gurney and wheeled, once again, to a recovery room in the facility’s infirmary wing. He never slept better.

In the room next door, a duty nurse, very much alive, took the blood pressure of the securely restrained and mildly sedated Lady Maria. Conclusion: blood pressure normal. Stepping out into the hallway, she then shushed a repairman, who was making a racket fixing the badly damaged door of service closet 22-02-01. “Watch your step please” he advised her. “There’s water all over the floor”.

Coming through a long dark tunnel toward a pin-point of amber light, Justin Thyme stirred from his slumber and found himself lying comfortably in a bed. He drew his hands out from beneath a blanket and waved one of them over his wrist chronophone.

“Yes Commodore?” asked a feminine voice from a hologram so bright it made his eyes squint. 

“Mile High Hotel” said Justin. “Senator Stilwell, in the penthouse suite, please”.

“I’m sorry Commodore Thyme; we have no one registered here by that name”.

“Has he left already?” he continued.

“No Commodore, we have never had anyone registered here by that name. Is there anything else I can help you with sir?” she asked. Justin thanked her, smiled, and rolled back into a deep slumber.

Chronopolis

Chapter Twenty, Joining the Club

Colonel Jaspars knocked his customary four times on the office door. He stood there a long while, wringing his hands, and wondering how to explain events to the Senator of which he had no knowledge at all. “Come in Colonel” said the receptionist. She pressed a button and said “Colonel Jaspars here to see you Senator”.

“Send him right in” came the answer.

She smiled as he walked by and ran a hand through her hair, which was standing on end. He smiled back at her. As he entered the back office, he looked for any indication that Senator Stilwell or the Professor, who sat at a nearby computer, had any inkling of what had just happened. Apparently, they did not.

As was his way, the Senator got right to work. “Colonel, the Professor and I have come up with an approach that might just work in gaining Lady Maria’s trust.”

“Beg your pardon, Senator. If I may, I have something to report” Jaspars interrupted.

Colonel Jaspars was a good soldier and a loyal friend. The senator saw the urgency in his eyes.

“By all means Colonel, do tell” he said, and the eyes of both he and the Professor took on that same look.

Colonel Jaspars went on to tell the incredible story of the nurse’s misfortune, the closet, the hotel stay -all of it. The pair listened intently, wide-eyed and rapt. They had known such a thing might happen. The intercom blared again, the receptionist saying “Commodore Thyme on his way back; couldn’t stop him Senator, sorry”, but she knew he really wouldn’t mind. The door swung open and in walked Justin Thyme.

“Sit down, Commodore Thyme” said the Senator. “I understand you’ve got a little story to tell”.

The four members of Alternity Group, -the four friends- sat and talked for several hours. Finally, when all the ‘T’s’ were crossed and ‘I’s’ were dotted, it was the Senators turn. “Gentleman, our Professor here has come up with a method to get Maria’s cooperation- Professor?”

“Thank you Senator. And thank you Commodore. As usual, your actions and quick thinking may have saved us all.” Justin waved him off, smiling. “Now, with the Senator’s permission, I’d like to invite Dr. Benjamin Binder into the fold if I may”.

“Granted” answered the Senator.

The intercom blared throughout the facility; “Benjamin Binder, calling Doctor Benjamin Binder to the Senator’s office, please. Thank you”.

When they were all assembled, the Professor walked them through his plan. For the rest of her stay, Maria would interact only with staff members and crew who were dressed in the medieval garb of her day. She would speak only with Dr. Binder, the world’s foremost Byzantine historian, and she would dwell only in marked areas that simulated her native surroundings. This, the Professor felt, should soften the difficulties sure to arise as a result of chrononomy –the business of time travel.

“Welcome aboard, Doctor” said the Senator, smiling. They all shook his hand, and welcomed him into their very elite group- the Alternity Group.

Chronopolis

Chapter Twenty One, New Blood

Senator Stilwell sat fidgeting in his chair, chewing a fingernail on one hand and tapping a pencil on the desk with the other.  “Privates Fulton and Terco here to see you, Senator” crackled the receptionists voice over the intercom.

“Send them right in” he answered. The door opened, and two young soldiers entered the room hesitatingly. Snapping to attention, they issued the best salute they could muster, and the Senator returned in kind. “Private First Class Robert Terco, Private First Class Fulton, I guess you are wondering why I’ve called you in this evening”.

“Yessir” the two answered in unison.

Senator Stilwell rose from his chair and tossed a pencil across the room, hitting the waste paper basket with Michael Jordon accuracy. “Gentleman, it has come to my attention that our last mission at Alternity Group would not have been possible without your teamwork and cooperation.”

“Sir?” asked a puzzled PFC Terco.

“It is my understanding that you two were on sentry duty at the facility gates when Commodore Thyme arrived in a –ahem- ‘borrowed’ hover craft that still sits on the lawn out there, am I correct?”

The two looked at each other sullenly, and then answered “no” simultaneously.

The Senator pushed a button on his desk and said, “Send in the Commodore please”.

The door opened to the back office and in walked Justin Nicholas Thyme, dressed for business. He smiled at the young men, then shook both their hands. “JT always keeps a promise boys” he said.

The Senator walked across the room, and opened an old-fashioned roll-top desk, exposing several bottles of very old liquor. He poured them all a stiff one, and announced that their days as glorified security guards were over. On the desk, he threw down two black zippered packs, which they were then instructed to open. Inside each were two thick envelopes.

“Here at Alternity Group, we’ve got an appreciation for soldiers who can make split second decisions –and who know how to keep their mouths shut. Besides, you’ve been recommended by the best. Justin?”

Justin handed the two soldiers each a certificate of merit for a full 20 years of service, although both were merely sophomores. “If you’ll open the envelope marked C, you’ll find enclosed, in cash, your full pay for the next 17 years, as well as a chit entitling you to a 100% pension after that for the rest of your lives”.

They opened the envelopes and stared back at Justin, jaws agape.

“There. That much of it is done; I’ve kept my word, always do. But there’s more- Senator?”

The senator said, “Boys, without you two, Alternity Group might have been finished before we got started. But that’s not why you’re here. What matters is your background. I’ve had you both scanned and your records indicate you are both single, with no siblings, and no surviving parents. Now that we’ve retired you, we’d like to offer you a better job- much better. Justin?”

“Do you guys think you might be interested in my line of work? It’s rewarding, but dangerous. You’ll have to think on your feet and it is impossible to overstate the importance of your decisions”.

They both nodded their heads immediately.

“Now hold on a minute. Remember, this is almost like a death sentence in a way. No wife. No family. No friends- well, except for your brothers and sisters here at Alternity. Take a look inside the other envelope, marked ‘LTK’. It’s your identification as an agent. Your full official titles will be special agents of the United Nations Multi-National Chronology Task Force. It’s also stamped with an LTK hologram- kind of a license to kill, but not really; you wouldn’t want to kill an ancestor, you see?”

Again, they both nodded vigorously.

“Yes” said Private Fulton.

Justin walked over, clinked glasses with him, and slapped a 6000 megaburst polaser on the desk in front of him.

“Yes” said Private Terco. And they repeated the process.

“Congratulations” said Commodore Thyme, saluting them both.

Then the Senator took the glasses from them and said, “Special agents Terco and Fulton, report to Colonel Jaspers in the lab to begin training. Godspeed to you both”.

Chronopolis

Chapter Twenty Two, the Lady’s Lair

Dr. Benjamin Binder had never been so excited in his work as when he stood at the door of Lady Maria’s confinement wing. He was dressed like a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism, lit torch in one hand, fresh-killed rabbits in the other. During the middle Ages, the Bulgarian language underwent three stages of development: early, middle, and late. The late stage was similar to what is still being spoken in modern day Bulgaria. The Doctor used the harsh middle dialect to call out to Maria.

“Maria, I would enter. I have brought food and a fire” he said.

There was no answer. He repeated himself several times, but no answer was forthcoming. He gave up for the day and would try again tomorrow. Turning to leave, he heard the door creak open, and turned quickly back. Maria’s eyes were there, peeking out carefully.

“Who do you be?” she asked in a deceptively tender voice.

“I am Binder” came the answer. “And I would speak with ye”.

Seeing no weapons, she opened the door, let him in, and immediately grabbed the rabbits. He let them go with a smile. After placing his torch into a ring on the mossy stone wall, he went back out to retrieve the firewood he had brought. But when he returned with a load of wood in his arms, the door had been closed and securely bolted from the inside. He stood a long while before calling to her again, but got no answer. After setting the wood carefully outside the door, he reached into his fur and drew out a bag containing stone implements; flint, obsidian, and chert.

“I would return a morrow” he declared as half question.

“Aye” came Maria’s melodic voice.

That in itself was a victory. Doctor Binder left the wing feeling like a boy who had just been granted the phone number of a homecoming queen. On a second thought, he decided not to leave the obsidian and chert, tantamount to arming the tigress. But when he returned to the door, she had already taken everything inside. He could hear her working diligently, and the smell of roasting meat wafted to his flaring nostrils. This was shaping up to be the best history lesson possible, a scholar’s dream. He turned on his heels and quietly left the area.

Upon returning to his office, he removed his medieval garb, and stared down at the furs gathered about his sandaled feet. Today, he had met and spoken with a Byzantine princess. Through the miracle of the Chrona, she had stepped out of the pages of history and into his world. Paradoxically, the damp gray walls of a medieval dwelling had brought great brightness to the formerly dull life of a grateful historian. After making notes until his candles grew short, he threw himself across the bed, fell asleep- and loved her in his dreams.   

Chronopolis

Chapter Twenty Three, a New Beginning

The doorman rushed outside when the first limousine pulled up. It wasn’t every day you saw a caravan like this one, even at the Mile High. The bellhop also stepped out of the hotel and asked, “Presidential motorcade?”

“I don’t know who it is- could be” answered the doorman.

He opened the back door of the vehicle and out stepped Senator Stilwell, followed by the Professor, his wife Joan, and the Colonel and Cynthia Jaspers. The Senator shook the doorman’s gloved hand, discreetly handing him a large bill.

“Thank you” he smiled, adding, “Please follow me”.

By now there were half a dozen black cars, long and sleek, their electric power plants as silent as they were powerful. All were soon emptied of their cargo of well dressed VIP’s, and driven around back by gleeful valets.

Senator Stilwell had decided that planning for the next phase of the Alternity Group’s mission should be done in a festive atmosphere. After all there was a lot to celebrate. Not only was the mission for Maria a success, but a subsequent mission fine-tuning that achievement was also a success. It proved the Chrona could be used to change the past, and also to tweak their work should the need arise.

Senator Stilwell and the Professor entered the lobby and announced the party’s arrival to an attractive young woman working at the reception desk. She looked at them inquisitively and asked, “Have you stayed with us before?”

“No” they answered with wry smiles.

Having leased two adjoining penthouse suites, the group propped all connecting doors wide open. Refreshments and entertainment were available in one suite, the other kept clear but for thirty five folding chairs placed several rows deep. In the center of that room stood an easel and a pointing stick with a yellow rubber tip.

When everyone had a glass of champagne in hand and the hors d’oeuvres trays were nearly empty, Colonel Jaspers called for everybody’s attention as the Professor gestured for them all to be seated.

“We all worked hard to get here” said the Colonel, “and we are all proud of what has been accomplished. But I would urge that we not be too awe struck- at least, not just yet. Ladies, gentleman, and families of the Alternity Group, I give you the man of the hour- Commodore Justin Nicholas Thyme!”

The applause was polite but intense as Justin took center stage, with more than a few whistles and hoots coming from the black tie crowd.

“My good friends” he began, “if I were to travel from the age of dinosaurs, to Minotaurs; from the Ice Age to the time of fragrant spice trades; from the beginning of time to this time of new beginnings, it would be impossible to find a better friend or a man more fit to lead our not so humble project, than the one I am here to introduce. Please welcome Alternity Group’s Chief Executive Officer, and my good friend, Senator Morgan Stilwell.”

The Senator walked out from the balcony where, unbeknownst to him, he had recently watched the mission glitch unfold. He gave Justin a bear hug, took center suite, and faced the cheering assembly. After a few moments, his face grew serious, the crowd grew quiet and the atmosphere changed.

“Friends, the time has come for us to congratulate ourselves on a job well done. Go ahead, give yourselves a hand.”

The room gave themselves a smattering of applause.

“There. With that behind us, it’s time to reveal the true scope of the mission before us. Now I must ask all non-members of Alternity Group to please leave the room.” People gasped.

Chronopolis

Chapter Twenty Four, Bringing the Heat

The big wigs must be in town, thought Detective Raskins, as he passed the Mile High on a bright Chronopolis afternoon. A line of limos stretched the entire length of the long horseshoe driveway, and the doorman stood shaking someone’s hand at about the midway point, under a fancy overhead structure called a ‘Flying M’.

He wanted to ask what was going on, but it was his first day off in weeks and he was anxious to go flying himself. With a thermos full of coffee and a pocket of bread sticks from the table of a local steak house, he pulled into the Mooring facility, and used the restroom one last time. Everyone knew his car, so leaving it there was nothing to worry about.

“E-e-e-ooh!” he shouted joyously, and it echoed throughout the empty structure. He fumbled for his magnetic pass card, and used it to access the mooring area. After passing many rows of hovercraft, he reached his own slip and was astounded to find it empty!

“What the..?” he whispered to himself, exasperated.

He checked out all the possibilities, and his heart began to race. It wasn’t in the slip or the repair bay, and it wasn’t being tested.

“Well can you believe it? It’s been stolen!” he yelled incredulously.

He went back out to his car and pushed the two way, which hissed like an angry tom cat. “Base, come in over, this is Raskins”.

“Yeah John, we read. I thought it was your day off; just can’t get enough, is that it?” came the response.

“Well you’re right, it is, and I was going to go flying, but my hovercraft is missing from the bay. You guys fucking around again? It ain’t my birthday you know- please, tell me you got it”.

“Negative, my friend, wish I could. You want to put it out as an APB or just keep it on the down low for now?”

“Ahh, just put it out- and let me know right away if anything” said Raskins.

“Will do. Sorry to hear about it, base out”.

Detective Raskins retreated to his car and left the facility. “All those hovercraft and they had to take mine”, he lamented. It wasn’t as though he had a lot of enemies. He treated everyone with respect.  “What is this place coming too?” he asked himself. He pulled a bread stick from his pocket and tore off a bite with some ferocity. “Well you know what? Maybe no more Mr. nice guy” he thought.

Once out on the highway, the sun, the breeze, and the beautiful afternoon all got the better of him, despite himself. After all, the darn thing really belonged to the bank and not to him, so what the heck. Then came the call over the police two way, saying, “Detective Raskins,  John, come in John”.

“Yeah, got something for me?” he asked.

“They found the hovercraft, they’re looking at it now” came the report.

“In what condition?” Detective Raskins asked.

“Oh it’s fine. Probably wasn’t kids or a chop shop crew”.

“Where is it?” Raskins asked further.

“Sitting on the front lawn at Alternity Corporation. You know the place?”

“Sure do- that friggin’ bunch of weirdoes making all that noise”.

“Right. There’s a Lieutenant Baxter from Chronopolis Military Command Center who’s also interested for whatever reason- he’s gonna meet you there; base out”.

The Detective was now spending his day off racing to a crime scene where the crime was Grand Theft Auto, the auto was his brand new hovercraft -and the scene was the front lawn of the Alternity Corporation Facility, home of the very secretive Alternity Group.

“Something about that place” thought detective Raskins to himself.

Chronopolis

Chapter Twenty Five, Boot Camp

“Alright raisins, listen up!” shouted Colonel Jaspars to the roomful of sweating recruits. “This next one is like playing ‘twister’; see those colored circles? You will sprint across the room, and I will shout out a color, at which time you will drop to the floor, place one knee on that color, then twist your torso around opening fire on your target. Two shots maximum, points off for shooting the wrong targets. Everybody got that?”

The line of recruits nodded eagerly, each huffing and puffing, with their hands on their knees.  

First up was a young woman in tight polydex. She wore a 6000 megaburst polaser strapped to each thigh and moved like a panther. An advanced recruit nearing the end of her training program, the Colonel liked to have her go first as an example to others. Her name was Infinity Stairs.

“When I call your name, you will line up single file” shouted the Colonel. “Stairs! Terco! Fulton! Nightbird- up!”

The girl in black polydex sprinted across the room like a star runner at a track meet. The Colonel yelled ‘blue!’, and she knelt, turned and popped off two bursts. Having reduced her targets to smoking ash, she returned with a swagger to the back of the line.

Special Agents Terco and Fulton laughed to each other- it was an impressive display. “What did he say her name was again?” asked Terco.

“Terco, you’re up, Cinderella, or do you need Ms. Stairs to show it to you again?” barked the Colonel. Terco lit out across the room like a Cheetah. “Green!” shouted Colonel Jaspers.

Terco spun sideways like a diver doing a half-twist, dragged a knee over a green circle, turned, and fired a single shot. He had placed a polaser burst between the eyes of a target made to look like a bank robber, but didn’t shoot another made to look like a family pet.

“Good shooting Cinderella!” shouted Colonel Jaspers. “Fulton, you’re up! Nightbird, you’re next!”

At the back of the line, Special Agent Terco stood hands on hips, catching his breath. The noise of the training room seemed to fade off into the background as he marveled at the woman called Stairs. “Hey, that was some pretty hot shooting” he said to her. I’m Terco; Robert Terco- but my friends just call me Turk”. The lady in the black polydex suit looked back at him blankly as she reloaded her weapons.

“Nice to meet you, Jerk” she said. Then her name was called, and she sprinted across the room again.

“I think she likes you” his partner Fulton laughed.

“Pure chemistry” added Nightbird, a young woman of native descent and another agent-in-training.

“Fulton, let’s go!” the Colonel called out. He walked over to Terco and whispered. “She’s out of your league Turk”. But Terco didn’t hear it as he kneeled, turned and shot out another target.

“He’s got skills” Infinity later confided to the Colonel.

“Uh-huh” the Colonel agreed. “And he’s gonna need them“. 

Chronopoly

Chapter Twenty Six, a Warm Fire

Doctor Binder arrived at Maria’s confinement wing in the basement of the Alternity Group facility at 6:00am. He was about to call out in middle Bulgarian when the door creaked open first. It was Maria and she had been anticipating his arrival. Binder held out his hands to show her he had no weapons, but that he did bring supplies. She opened the door and this time, she let him in.

Looking around, he marveled at the way Maria had redecorated. With just a well placed fur here, and a dry mat of hay there, she had made a cold, damp place seem almost comfortable. She gestured for him to sit by a glowing fire, left the room for a moment and returned to hand him a steaming bowl of rabbit broth. She then sat down next to him, lacing up a fresh pair of rabbit-skin boots. Amazing, he thought to himself.   

By now, Maria’s condition had become a little more evident, and she wore it well. So long as nothing was done to confuse the poor lass, it was also obvious that her nesting instincts were taking over, and that could only be good for her, the child and for the Alternity Group.

In the days after, Maria grew larger and larger, while becoming more and more trusting of Doctor Binder. She began to show the softer side of her nature as the two spent hour upon hour together. At one point, Maria looked him in the eye, grabbed his hand and placed it to her stomach. Doctor Binder was delighted to feel the kicking of her developing baby. He smiled at her and she at him.

“And what of a name, my lady? What shall ye call him?” asked the Doctor.

“That’ll be dependin’ on if it be she or he!” Maria answered.

“No matter” said the Doctor, “so long as it be strappin’”. At this, he unrolled a beautiful woolen blanket he had picked up at the facility PX. Maria’s eyes lit up at the site of such craftsmanship. She had never seen a blanket woven by machine. It was so perfect, she thought.

Doctor Binder stood up and gently draped it over her soft shoulders. She tried to show the Doctor her appreciation, but he resisted, having found himself in an ethical quandary.

“Do ya find me plain?” she asked him.

“Lady Maria” he said, “for me you are the only woman in the wide world. Let it happen if it will, in its own good time”. She snuggled close to him and fell comfortably asleep on his shoulder.  

‘This’ he thought, ‘is paradise’.

Chronopolis

Chapter Twenty Seven, First Target

With the outer doors closed, the only sound in the hotel room was the occasional ‘whoosh’ of a passing vehicle. Senator Stilwell stood in the center of the room, reflecting thoughtfully.

“Fellows, we have all come to know our charter. We know who we are, we know what we stand for, and the time has come for action. It’s easy to see things could be better with minimal changes made to the past.”

Everyone knew where this was going; only the particulars remained a mystery. Senator Stilwell was about to put even those last mysteries to bed as he reached down for the pointing stick.

“As you are all aware, no longer is it beyond the capability of man to redirect events, thereby reshaping the future. Reality is no longer an absolute. We have a finger on our fate, and a hand on our destiny. Sure, we’ve already seen how manipulating the past can be dangerous- but with care, we can use our invention to set things profoundly right.”

He placed pointer to chalkboard, and tapped rhythmically on several small, colorful chalk markings.

“Here is a list of seemingly innocuous historical events, whose effects later became profound in scope.”

A hand shot up in the second row. It belonged to a scientist named Franz Graber, last in a long line of famous Swiss watch makers. Franz was always filled with questions about the nature of time travel, the problems associated with causality, and the paradoxes chrononomy invariably raised. Relentless and brilliant, he was here to piss in the punchbowl.

“And what of the innocent citizens of a former reality- or those who end up, as a consequence of our actions, never having been born- are we their murderers?” Graber asked. “At some point, shall we consider the present to be satisfactory- or forever seek to change smaller and smaller details? These questions must be adequately addressed before the project can move any further, wouldn’t you all agree?”.

Many in the room fiddled uncomfortably at the gravity of his questions. There could be no doubt of their validity. There could also be no doubt that the moral dilemma of answering them was dogma the project didn’t need. After some mumbling and grumbling, they pressed on. The consensus was, here was a chance to save an entire continent -not just a wetland or a forest. Using the power of the Chrona, they could short-circuit what history has shown to be the worst case scenario of continental destruction and indigenous obliteration- a perfect storm, if you will.

Senator Stilwell continued, “Our first target is La Paz on the southern tip of Baja, California, in 1533. Cortez ordered two ships built in 1532 on the shores of Tehuantepec, just to the south. The following year he sent them to begin the colonization of California and their first landing was at La Paz. When Columbus landed on San Salvador 40 years earlier, the Taino Indians who naively came out to greet him were abducted and sold into slavery. Then came the industrialization of the most bio-diverse three and a half million square miles on Earth. We believe we can stop it. When those ships reach La Paz, our agents will be waiting for them. Our plan is to send a chrononomy team to infiltrate the area, followed by a ‘whack’ team to light the fuse. The teams are already in training and I’d like to know we have unanimous support, Franz.”

The Alternity Group members rose from their chairs and left the room in single file. Senator Stilwell stood at the doorway with a hand in the air, inviting each team member to ‘high five’ him on the way out. All of them did -except Franz Graber.

Chronopolis

Chapter Twenty Eight, the Investigation

When Detective Raskins arrived on the front lawn of AlternityCorp, Lieutenant Baxter was there waiting for him. He had already set up a crime scene perimeter, with guards stationed at the corners of a taped-off area. In the center of that area, sat his stolen hovercraft. Some day off, he thought.

“I appreciate you coming down on your day off, John.” said the Lieutenant. “I need it dusted for prints”.

“Well Bob, I do have a certain interest in this case, you know” answered Detective Raskins.

“Oh, how so?” asked the Lieutenant.

“It’s my car” said Raskins.

The Detective ordered an arriving police van to dust the recovered vehicle. As they worked, Detective Raskins made calls to his bank, his insurance company, and his wife.

“I am so sorry about your new toy, dear” she said, comforting him. “Who in the world would do such a thing- and to a police officer!” she added.

“No idea yet, but we’re dusting for prints now. Don’t worry, we’ll find the perp. In the meantime, don’t worry about the craft, it’s insured to the hilt”, he said, comforting her in return.

“Yes” she agreed, “And financed to the hilt too”. 

He turned his attention back to the crime scene and asked, “Has anybody spoken to the two sentries on duty? They must have seen something”.

“There doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of people here right now” said the Lieutenant. “But I was thinking there’d have to be footage from surveillance cameras they’ve got positioned on these grounds”.

“Now there’s a thought” said Raskins. “How do we get our hands on those?”

“If you can’t get a warrant, I’ll ask the General to declare a small emergency and we’ll have the video records confiscated for security purposes” answered the Lieutenant.

By now the fingerprint crew had gone over the whole scene, inside the craft and out. The side of the police van began sliding outward, and the van slowly became a mobile crime lab. Investigators working inside could be seen through the windows, mixing print-dust in small vials of liquid. After a few last shakes, a field investigator held a vial under an infra red light, studied it there for a moment, and shouted, “Detective Raskins, we’ve got something”.

Meanwhile, sentries at the front entrance of AlternityCorp stood motionless and uncooperative. Like the Royal Guards of Britain, they ignored all questions and showed no signs of emotion or recognition. When the investigators finally gave up on them and walked away, the sentries looked at each other and smiled. One of them waved a palm over his chronophone, and contacted Senator Stilwell.

“Stilwell here” said a voice from a holograph.

“Sir, there’s a bunch of suits on the lawn swarming over that hovercraft like mosquitoes. Looks like they’re gonna be trouble, over” reported the sentry.

“Did you speak with them at all?” asked the Senator.

“Negative sir” he answered, proudly.

“Very well Private, carry on” ordered the Senator.

Back on the lawn, there was a commotion at the van. Detective Raskins stood holding a vial in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.

“Lieutenant Baxter!” he shouted. “Lieutenant Baxter!”

The Lieutenant turned his attention from the hovercraft. “Yes John?” he asked.

“Lieutenant, we have a warrant for the arrest of Justin Nicholas Thyme.”    

Chronopolis

Chapter Twenty Nine, the Renaissance Faire

“You must be out of your mind!” shouted the Senator. “There is no way that woman is ready for the outside world, nor it for her. She belongs to the past.”

“Senator, just hear me out”, replied Doctor Benjamin Binder. “Watch the films; she’s made a lot of progress since her arrival. It is certainly not helpful to our cause for her to be kept in a locked room. Getting out in the sun would be therapeutic for her; she needs to be around people”.

“Around people? Around people? My dear Doctor, do you remember what happened the last time that little hellcat was around people? Someone died!” the Senator fired back.

Across the room, the Professor sat at his desk, quietly fiddling with a Rubik’s cube. He, too was interested in improving Maria’s mental health, and said so.

 “Let’s reserve judgment until we’ve heard the Doctor’s proposal. The woman can’t be kept as a prisoner. We either take steps to improve her well being or send her back to Constantinople” he said. “I have studied the tapes, and I agree- Maria has made enormous progress. You are to be commended, Doctor. The question is, where do you take a Byzantine Princess in this day and age without causing a stir, or creating one?” 

Doctor Binder spread a large color poster across the Senators desk with the words, ‘Renaissance Faire’ splashed across the top. It sported a glorious photo of a knight in shining armor, holding the reigns of a rearing white stallion, similarly adorned.  “I’ll need a costume and a dress for m’lady, and of course, a steed” smiled the Doctor.

“Of course.” answered the Professor.

The Senator knew he had lost this one and stood shaking his head side to side. “Of course.” he added.

The suns shown so brightly that lady Maria could see them through the hefty blindfold she wore. “It’s for your own protection, m’lady”, he had told her. The footsteps of their large horse clippity-clopped through the streets of Chronopolis, then fell silent on the grass of the Fairgrounds. The Chronopolis Society for Creative Anachronism Club was holding their annual Renaissance Faire and Doctor Binder knew it would make Maria feel somewhat at home.

Maria was helped off the horse by gate attendants, but it was Binder who removed the blindfold. She marveled at the sights as he tied the horse. He took her by both hands and looked her up and down. “You make that dress look wonderful!” he opined.

Maria told him it was the most beautiful thing she had ever worn, and that he would be knighted when they reached Constantinople. He unconsciously felt for the broadsword he wore on his hilt at the thought of it. Could be arranged, he thought jokingly to himself. They walked through the faire turning not a few heads. Many were the characters and costumes, and fancy were the chickens running underfoot. They watched as faux knights put on displays of sword fighting and a joust. Doctor Binder smiled broadly as Maria sat devouring the leg of a roasted chicken, handing her a damp towel afterward. When they reached the heart of the faire, Maria led the Doctor behind a series of tents and kissed him. His heart raced and his knees nearly buckled as he tore himself away. But she would have none of it, and kissed him with a fiery passion the world hadn’t seen in almost a thousand years.

“Ho ha!” shouted a large stranger who had come behind the tents to relieve himself. He walked straight toward them and pushed Doctor Binder roughly aside. “The wench will be mine!” he shouted, drawing his sword.

Doctor Binder put his hands in the air and pleaded with the actor. “No please- you don’t understand!” he yelled.  

“Oye, I understand alright! You be too timid a vermin for the lass!” he said. He snatched a passing chicken by the neck, sliced off its head and handed it to Maria all in one move. “Take this and cook it wench! I’ll be along for dinner after I dispatch your two-legged chicken!”

“Please, you don’t understand!” said Binder once again.

Maria stood aghast as she watched spurt after spurt of chicken blood spray all over the front of her beautiful dress. Doctor Binder winced as he watched the fire build in her eyes. The large man stood holding the bleeding chicken in one hand and his sword in the other, a ghastly grin smeared across his rugged face.

Maria thought back to the last man who had tried to steal her from her husband. He had died a slow, agonizing death. She would be more merciful this time- it would be quick. The world slowed almost to a stand still and Doctor Binder watched in horror as Maria reached back for the sword. Snatching it from the scabbard, she waved it three times, like a magician waves a wand. One stroke separated head from body, the return stroke sliced the torso and arms in two, and the final stroke severed both legs above the knees.

And so it was done. The man’s grimacing face sat atop eight pieces of fresh meat all piled about two feet high. Maria smiled back at the Doctor. “Do ye be alright?” she asked.

“Nay!” said Doctor Binder and he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of there. “Drop the sword, and let’s be off with ye!” he yelled. They emerged calmly from the tangle of tents and walked arm in arm back to their waiting horse.

Chronopolis

Chapter Thirty, the White Horse

Detective Raskins had not a care in the world as he took the hovercraft through its paces high above Chronopolis. All systems seemed to be working fine, and the view was awesome, from horizon to horizon. Cirrus clouds with silver linings wisped across the azure sky, becoming hummingbirds, dragons, and just about anything else he could imagine them to be. He was about to bank around for another pass over the Mile High when a call came over the police two-way.

“Base to Raskins, can you read me, over” it squawked.

Detective Raskins chose to ignore the call until he completed one more loop, his stomach wedged solidly into his mouth from the centrifugal force.

“Base to Detective Raskins, come in please” it called him again.

“Yeah, Raskins here. Go ahead Base, over” he replied.

“John, we need you over at the Burgundy County Fairgrounds right away, do you copy, over?” asked the police switchboard operator.

“I’m on my way. I’ve got my hovercraft so it’ll only take a minute. What’ve you got?” he asked.

“Looks like we got a hack job on a wackjob; somebody carved up one of the actors at the Renaissance Faire, over”.

“I can see it now Base. Raskins, over and out”

“Thanks John, Base out.”

Descending from one thousand feet, Detective Raskins could see a crowd gathered around a group of white, flowing tents. The afternoon breeze had them billowing like mainsails on a frigate ship. At five hundred feet he made out a uniformed policeman waving him in for a landing. He landed, set the magnets on warm and popped out of the cockpit.

“Thanks for comin’ down John, it happened right through there” said the uniformed officer. “Pretty gross”, he added.

Raskins walked through the tangle of tents and found himself stepping over bloody chicken parts and a huge bloodstained broadsword. “A chicken?” he asked. “They killed a fucking chicken?”

“Over here John” came a familiar voice. “It’s here”.

“Detective Raskins,” interrupted the uniformed officer, “have you met Lieutenant Junior Grade Baxter…”

“Yes I have- Bob, how are ya?” asked Raskins.

“We meet again, John. Good to see you” said Lieutenant Baxter. “Thank you officer, that will be all” he said, dismissing the policeman. “It’s not pretty, so brace yourself. He’s right there”.

“Where?” asked Detective Raskins, nearly tripping over the small pile of meat. “Oh my good happy H. Christmas Christ!” he said. He took a moment to compose himself, and then said, “Where’s the rest of the body?”

“That’s the whole thing, John. It just looks small because it’s been sliced into cold cuts by somebody who really knew what they were doing.” said Lieutenant Baxter.

 “Probably one of these weirdo Antichrists running around in their pajamas” said Detective Raskins.”

“Anachronists, John. And I don’t think so” answered Baxter. Witnesses say they saw a nice couple walk away about the same time, get on a white horse and ride off into the sunsets”.

“A white horse? You kiddin’ me?” asked Raskins.

“I never joke about cold cuts, John” said the Lieutenant.

“What makes you think they were involved?” asked the detective.

“The woman was covered in blood, head to toe- that’s always suspicious, right?” the Lieutenant answered, smiling sarcastically.

Another call came over the two-way. Detective Raskins and Lieutenant Baxter trotted over to the hovercraft, where they stood leaning and listening.

“Detective Raskins, we’ve located a horse matching the witnesses description, over” came the dispatch.

Raskins picked up the two-way. “Raskins here; copy. What is the twenty of that horse, over?”

“Alternity Corporation Headquarters John, same spot where they found your hovercraft!”

The two men looked at each other with furrowed brows.

“There’s something going on there” said Detective Raskins. The Lieutenant nodded in agreement and added, “Let’s go find out what it is.”

Chronopolis

Chapter Thirty One, a New Assignment

The words resounded over the facility loudspeaker like a grade school broadcast ordering someone to the principal’s office.  

“Doctor Binder, report to the Senator’s office; Doctor Benjamin Binder, to the senator’s office please”, it said.  Senator Stilwell and the Professor bumped into each other several times dressing themselves in the small office. “Looks pretty sharp” said the professor, commenting on the Senator’s snazzy three-piece suit. The facility loudspeaker once again repeated the message, “Doctor Binder, report to the Senator’s office; Doctor Benjamin Binder, to the senator’s office please”.

“Is that it? Is that what you’re wearing?” asked the senator. “Corduroy went out with the last flood Professor. What is it with you intellectual types that make you so fashion deficient?”

“Well, listen to the runway model” sneered the Professor as he walked up behind his friend and pretended to choke him. Then, a voice came over the intercom saying, “Doctor Binder is here to see you Senator”.

“Send him back” the Senator answered, pressing the button with one hand while busily knotting his tie with the other.

The door opened and in walked Binder, dark circles turning his eyes into clams on the half shell. The Senator was now sitting at his desk, sipping coffee and flipping through the morning paper.

“Yes, Senator?” asked Doctor Binder.

“Looks like you had a rough night, Ben” said the Senator. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Binder looked over at the Professor, but got no help, as he quickly looked away. The Senator continued. “How did it go at the Faire?” he asked. “You two have fun?”

“Well sir, we-“

“Know anything about this?” asked the Senator, turning the newspaper around so the Doctor could read it. Splashed across the front page, it said, ‘Faire Game- Authorities Investigate Dismemberment Killing’.

The Doctor dropped his head and stared at the floor. There was just nothing to say.

“Listen carefully Doctor” said Senator Stilwell. “I want you to get Maria, blindfold her, and take her to the lab within the half hour. You will report to Commodore Thyme for duty, understood?”

“What will become of her?” asked Binder.

“Of you both” said Stilwell. “You are being assigned to new duty, and yes, you will be together- for at least the next twenty years, that sound ok?”

“Yes sir!” he answered. He nodded to the Professor, and left the office.

“Now, where were we?” he asked.

“You were saying you didn’t like corduroy” answered the Professor.

“I was kidding, it looks fine. Let’s get to the graduation before they start without us”.

Downstairs in the facility basement, Doctor Binder knocked quietly on Maria’s door. She opened it before he was through, pulling him inside to a warm embrace. After kissing her passionately, he told her to get ready.

“Ready for what?” she asked.

“Get ye ready to leave, m’lady.” He smiled at her reassuringly. “We have to leave. Now.”

Chronopolis

Chapter Thirty Two, Graduation

The marching band played beautifully, even putting on a dazzling dance routine as they passed in review. Trombones and tubas created brass harmonies that wafted from the luminaries and dignitaries in the bleachers, all the way up to the lofty ceiling of Drill Hall Eight Hundred.

When the band finished, the loudspeaker asked all in attendance to rise for the national anthem saying, “Ladies and Gentlemen, here to sing Crown of Chronopolis, please welcome singing star and international teen sensation, Persephone!”

The crowd applauded wildly. Persephone was very popular- even in Burgundy County. The members of the graduating class of 2067 stood on their platforms holding both hands on their hearts, the national symbol of empathy. Infinity Stairs stood on the highest platform, an honor earned by graduating first in her class. She was flanked on the right by her runner up and adoring fan, Special Agent Robert Terco. To her left stood second runner up, her best friend, Special Agent Nikki Night Bird. On the lowest platform stood Terco’s best friend, Special Agent Jefferson ‘Photon’ Fulton, who smiled throughout the entire ceremony. It was a moving anthem and Persephone sang it beautifully.

Crown of Chronopolis

With two hands upon our hearts

We guard this gateway where the universe starts

Chronopolis for you; Chronopolis for me

No limit to what we may pursue; our Metropolis is free  

Hands on hearts we bare our soul; among the stars a starring role

And if the suns should rise no more; our agents still will guard the door

Chronopolis for you; Chronopolis for me

No limit to what we may pursue; our Metropolis is free! 

The teary-eyed crowd roared its approval as cannon blasts rang out through the Drill Hall. Infinity Stairs stood cheering and clapping along with all her fellow graduates.  When the cheering subsided, she heard her name being called from up in the crowded bleachers.

“Infinity! Infinity!” cried the far away voice. Squinting her eyes she saw a splash of white hair amid the sea of blue graduation caps and knew it was her mother, calling from the very last row. “I love you mom!” she mouthed the words over the din. Then, “I love you dad!” she mouthed again.

Infinity turned to Nikki and shouted, “I told you they’d be here!”

Nikki Night Bird smiled broadly; she was so excited to be graduating she had to pinch herself to make sure it was real. She was also happy for Infinity, who had trained so hard and been through so much. They both knew Infinity might not get to talk with her parents before the first mission. Alternity Group always sent agents out right after graduation- after all, forever was a lot of time to cover!  

As Senator Stilwell called their names, they bowed their heads and received a set of plasmodium dog tags around their necks. Then, one by one, the Senator pinned on their wings. A clock with wings was the official symbol of Alternity Group worn only by Special Agents of the United Nations Multi-National Chrononomy Task Force. The band played on.

Chronopolis

Chapter Thirty Three, Twenty Years from Trouble

Commodore Thyme allowed Maria to slip through the laboratory checkpoints by holding close to Doctor Binder. The blindfold was now more important than ever; one look at the Chrona would certainly send Maria into a fit of terror. Justin also knew that Doctor Binder himself was terrified. Who could blame him?

Maria clung tightly as Binder submitted to two retina scans, one at each Permaglass wall. When they finally entered the Chrona’s portal, Justin pointed back toward the plasticized floor chart.

He said to the doctor “Look at the quartermasters chart, Ben. Remember the three lights. Amber is for where you’ll land, red is for where you are, and blue…”

“Yes, we never did get to the blue one” said Binder.

“Well Doc, on many –not all, but many missions, we provide our agents with back up. That could mean another agent, a team of agents, a supply stash, or as is the case this time, a safe house.”

“Safe from what? asked Doctor Binder.

“Safe from who would be more accurate” answered Thyme. “Recent events involving Maria now require us to keep Alternity Group safe- from her!”  Binder smiled, kissing Maria gently on the forehead.

Justin pointed back toward the instrument panel and signaled for Colonel Jaspars to energize the Chrona. The machinery began its whining crescendo, prompting Maria to ask “What sorcery is this?”

Doctor Binder held her tightly and said “All I can tell you is it is good sorcery; do not fear”.

After shouting last minute orders to Binder about laying prone on the floor, and what to do upon arrival, the Commodore said “Godspeed”, and left the portal area.

He strapped into a chair, and had barely put on his glasses when the lights dimmed, and an enormous surge of energy pulsed down the optic conduit, energizing the Chrona. Maria dug her fingernails into the back of Binders hand, creating a small trickle of blood that dripped to the floor. Binder was amazed as the laboratory began to slowly revolve around the portal. It moved faster and faster, until all was a spinning blur. The droplets of blood no longer fell to the floor. They instead took the form of a pinwheel galaxy, floating in the center of the mass that spun around them.

It ended as soon as it had begun. Maria and Doctor Binder found themselves lying on their stomachs on the hot asphalt of a church parking lot, some twenty years earlier. Squinting in the suns, they rose to their feet and were immediately met by a handsome young man wearing the uniform of an Alternity Special Agent. Having lost her blindfold, Maria opened her eyes to see a huge marble statue of the Virgin Mary. She crossed herself again and again, while murmuring prayers in medieval Bulgarian. “Close your eyes, Maria, and for the love of God keep them closed!” whispered Doctor Binder urgently.

“The agent extended his hand to the doctor and said, “Come with me right away!”   

Chronopolis

Chapter Thirty Four, the Secret Entrance

The attendant had never had so much trouble recovering a horse in the three years he had worked for W.A.R.CO, the Western Animal Rental Company of Chronopolis. The giant white draft horse was beautiful, but at seventeen hands high, impossible to contain. He had been spooked by a maelstrom coming from Alternity Corporation and just as he calmed, a hovercraft landed to spook him all over again.

“Whoa, easy, easy” coaxed the attendant. The incoming pilot saw the commotion and decided to land far away, for the horses benefit as well as his own. The motor whirred to a stop and out popped Detective Raskins, who went right to work.

“Hold it right there, cowboy” said the Detective. “Are you the owner of that horse?”

“No sir, he’s just a rental” he answered. “I work for W.A.R.Co. sir, sixteen years now.”

“I want to see your identification and I’m afraid I’m going to have to confiscate the horse- he’s evidence in a murder investigation” said the detective.

“Heck, he’s all yours!” agreed the attendant, handing him the reigns of the bucking behemoth.

The Detective gamely held the horses lead with both hands, all the while cooing and soothing him with gentle words. “There boy- now, now, big fella” he said. The horse began to bray more quietly and was about to taste the grass underfoot when Lieutenant Baxter arrived in a military vehicle whose blaring siren started the commotion all over again.

“Raskins!” shouted the Lieutenant as the horse now dragged them both around, “it occurred to me we couldn’t get inside without help, so I brought someone with me.”  

“And who‘s that?” asked the Detective, struggling to hold the horse.

“His name is Franz Graber; he says he’s one of them.”

The vehicle door opened and out stepped Graber, the scientist concerned with the too-fast pace at which AlternityCorp was moving forward.

“Go with him, Detective- he can get you inside- I’ll take care of this.”

“Follow me!” shouted Graber to Detective Raskins.

“Get the hell over here and help me!”  Lieutenant Baxter screamed to the attendant who sat watching in amazement.

Graber led the Detective around the side and away from the main entrance to Alternity Group Headquarters. “There is a way in, a utility entrance, disguised to look like a circuit breaker box from outside” he said, huffing and puffing as they ran.

“What the hell is this place, actually, Mr. Graber?” asked Detective Raskins. The scientist looked back at him with a blank expression and did not answer.

 With the graduation in Drill Hall Eight Hundred, the Chrona energized for transport and the commotion on the front lawn, Graber and Raskins managed to reach their destination undetected. They stood a while, gasping for breath.

“It’s right in here” said Graber. “It’ll open when you pull those black tie wires. When you get in, wait for me to seal it up behind us. Then it’s down a level. From there, you’ll see for yourself what this place is about, what they’re doing here.”

“What’s the short version?” asked Detective Raskins.

“The short version? Too fantastic to believe without your own eyes- shortest version you’re going to get”.

Raskins saw the honesty in Grabers’ eyes. “Just tie wires and we’re in, that’s it?” asked Raskins.

“Yes, that’s it” answered Graber, adding, “That and two retina scans.”

Chronopolis

Chapter Thirty Five, Tangled in Time

“Just the way I like it” said Thyme, referring to the empty laboratory. With everyone else still at the graduation ceremony, there was just a skeleton crew to initiate the next mission. With Colonel Jaspers at the control board, the Chrona spat hot steam against the soundtrack of a dying whine and ground to a halt.

“Me too” the Colonel replied.

Both men were seasoned agents, and didn’t need anyone to tell them how to do their jobs. Sure, there was a chain of command, but anyone working this close to the Chrona could run the show.

No sooner had the last operation ended, than the next was to begin. It reminded Justin of the commercial jets at an airport. They landed, refueled, changed crews and took on new passengers. Then, with a new flight number, were back in the air. And so it was with the Chrona.

The two crewmembers in the lab pored over Justin’s suit for leaks or signs of wear as he stood looking over his mission orders. He was to travel to 1533 AD, landing on the very tip of Baja, at La Paz. When the team arrived, they would initiate contact with the natives and warn them of the coming danger- Cort’es, the Conquistador, would soon arrive from Tehuantepec with two ships and bad intentions.

An AlternityCorp strike force, or a ‘whack team’ as the agents called themselves, would be there waiting. Justin would arrive early to set up camp for the agents, who were still out celebrating graduation.

With everything in place, all systems were declared a ‘go’, and the Colonel energized the Chrona. Justin submitted to a retina scan, the permaglass wall opened and he entered the no-man’s land between the clear walls. The process was repeated, and the Commodore climbed the steps toward the Chrona’s portal.

Colonel Jaspars was already strapped in when an alarm light began whirling on the laboratory ceiling. One of the two crew members reported via chronophone that a biological alarm had been tripped somewhere near the Chrona.  

“What’s it mean?” asked Jaspars.

One crewman began, “It means that a biological entity has been detected in or near-“  

“It means something got in when the door was open, probably a bug or a mouse” the other crewman interrupted.

The Chrona had begun to shake as Justin ascended the steps to the portal; everyone else was strapped in tight. “Put on your safety glasses!” ordered the Colonel, as pulses of energy surged down from the planet’s surface.

“Justin Nicholas Thyme?” came a shout from behind the Commodore.

Justin turned and was startled to see a policeman lunge at him with handcuffs and slap one manacle on each of their wrists as they both fell into the Chrona.

“Detective John Raskins of the Chronopolis Police Department- Justin Thyme, I am placing you under arrest for Grand Larceny! Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law!”

By now, the Chrona was spinning forcefully, and Justin found himself unusually speechless.

“Shut it down! Colonel, Shut it down!” he finally managed to say.

Detective Raskins began to look around himself and saw the room revolving. It was more than he cared to understand and so he continued, “You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one…”

“Shut it off!” screamed Thyme, but the Colonel was now engaged in a violent struggle with Franz Graber, who reached for the Chrona Emergency Shutoff Switch. Commodore Thyme didn’t need a time machine to see where this was headed, and he reached into his utility belt for a ‘T.I.B.’-a Time Indicator Beacon.

Graber lashed at the control board but missed the emergency shutoff, managing instead to activate the Chrona’s steering mechanism.

“You fool!” screamed Colonel Jaspers. He tried to pull the steering lever back to where it had been, but to no avail. Franz Graber had unwittingly directed the energy of six suns to take the Chrona and its two occupants on a trip through time of unknown length to an unknown destination.

“You fool.” Whispered the Colonel.

The two struggling men now just stood together, watching the melodrama unfold. Special Agent Thyme had just enough time to break the seal on the beacon, put the transmitter half back into his belt, and toss the receiver half out of the Chrona. “On the floor, now!” shouted Thyme to his hapless policeman partner.

“…one will be appointed for you” the Detective said feebly.

The Chrona sent them into that floating, peaceful netherworld Justin had come to know as the ‘time chamber’.  They saw stars around them flashing in and out of existence. Thyme noticed perceptible motion of the Milky Way itself. Judging by the rotation, they were going backward and they floated for a long, long time.

Chronopolis

Chapter Thirty Six, Pirates Parlay

Bright flashes and deafening energy blasts filled the sky above Alternity Group Headquarters. The draft horse galloped in circles, dragging the attendant face down, his cowboy boots digging ruts in the mud. Lieutenant Junior Grade Baxter was on the phone with General Studemier, apprising him of the situation and requesting assistance.

“I can hear it from here and not just through the phone” said the General. “What the hell is going on?”

“Some kind of a launch or discharge or something” answered Baxter. “It seems to be settling down” he added as the attendant was dragged by, screaming.

“It doesn’t sound like it Lieutenant. I order you to secure that area on the double soldier. I’m putting you through to my supply secretary who will get you whatever you need.”

Lieutenant Baxter thanked the General, who was already off the phone. When the supply secretary came on the line, Baxter ordered a portable construction fence. “Enough to cover half an acre” he said. “And a mobile office, something with accommodations- we’re likely to be here for a very long time”.

As the horse came by again, Baxter cupped his hands and shouted to the attendant, “Help’s on the way- hang in there!”

Within ten minutes, a convoy of military trucks arrived, each loaded with uniformed troops. Baxter stationed them around the perimeter of the entire property and grounds. All had orders to detain the Senator using as much diplomacy as possible. “And bring him to me.” he ordered.

With the soldiers help, the horse was brought under control and now grazed quietly as the attendant walked him along. Flatbed trucks began pulling onto the field, unloading and erecting their cargo of temporary construction fencing. By the time the senator arrived with his caravan of limousines, the entire facility had been fenced in, and the cars were greeted at the gate by military guards.

The lead car stopped at the gate, and its driver stepped out of the vehicle to address the guards. They turned him around, disarmed him and confiscated his car keys. Another group of soldiers walked to the second vehicle, and instructed the occupants to roll down the window. At gunpoint, they complied.

“Senator Stilwell?” asked the guard. “Please step out of the vehicle”.

The senator exited the car and placed his hands in the air.

“That’s not necessary sir” said the guard. “Please come with me sir”.

All the occupants were detained and all the vehicles confiscated. Twelve limos in all were brought to a newly fenced area where their magnets were permanently deactivated.

Up the long driveway came a huge military truck with a large ‘Wide Load’ sign. It was here to deliver the mobile base unit the Lieutenant had requested from General Studemier. It was manuevered inside the gated half acre, and a large satellite dish was deployed on its roof. When all was ready, the senator was brought there to meet with Baxter.

“That will be all” said the Lieutenant to his men. They left the gated area to the Lieutenant, the senator, and one happily grazing horse. “Please senator, come in.”

The Lieutenant took a long look at Senator Stilwell and asked, “Have we met before?”

The senator shook his head. “Don’t believe so” he answered, taking a seat with a window view of the beautiful white horse. “Am I under arrest?”

Lieutenant Baxter laughed. “Not at all, Morgan -may I call you Morgan?”

The Senator gestured ‘why not’ with his free hand, while accepting a glass of scotch in the other.

“Good. My name is Lieutenant Robert Baxter- but call me Bob.”

“Alright Bob” asked the senator, “where should we start?”

Two soldiers carried in a leather reclining chair, and the Lieutenant sat down as soon as it was brought in. He leaned back, lit a pipe, and answered, “At the beginning.”

Senator Stilwell leaned forward and reached for the pipe. “May I?” he asked.

“By all means”, came the reply.

Chronopolis

Chapter Thirty Seven, Mexican Standoff

Outside Drill Hall Eight Hundred, the new graduates approached a sleek red hovercraft floating inches off the tarmac. Behind them lay the cheers and confetti of their old lives; ahead only danger.

“Bring it on!” shouted Infinity Stairs, blowing on her index fingers. The rest smiled ear to ear, hearts beating twice as fast as normal. They were ready for anything and would follow Infinity anywhere.

Where no seam had been visible on the craft, a door opened as smoothly and silently as a nictitating membrane. “Check!” shouted Infinity, placing her hands on her weapons.

“Check!” came the reply from the others, following suit.

“Time to go to school!” she chanted.

One by one they entered the fuselage, chose a compartment and strapped in. They were only traveling from the Drill Hall to Facility Headquarters, but this was their first ride, their first moments, as a team of Special Agents.

The pilot smiled at the youngsters, as excited as they were. These were no ordinary kids, nor were they ordinary soldiers. A Special Agent was like being half soldier, half monk. You had to respect that. While most twenty-somethings were blossoming into the social network, these Special Agents had already given it all up. He flashed them a thumbs up, and they all returned it, their faces now sullen.

After a verticle liftoff, the electromagnetic drive engaged and the craft peeled through the magnetosphere.

It took less than a minute for Infinity to know something was wrong. “Up!” she ordered her teammates.

“Up!” they shouted in unison.  The pilot was next to see the fence and troops surrounding AlternityCorp grounds. He looked at Infinity, and cocked his head. She nodded in answer.

“It’s hot down there, so we’re out of the nest in three, two, one…”

The same door slid silently open and out they hurtled one by one. The pilot shouted “Geronimo!”, held the craft steady until empty, then banked right and evacuated 180 degrees.

Survival suits come equipped with webbed armpits and crotch, and make excellent gliders. Infinity placed her palms flat on her hips and steered for the top of the long driveway of AlternityCorp. The others followed her lead. “Sing out!” yelled Infinity, and said, “Stairs!”

“Terco!” came the reply.

“Bird!” hollered Nikki.

“Fulton!” shouted Jefferson.

“Walker!” crackled the pilot via chronophone.

Infinity waved a hand over her chronophone and called the senator.

In the mobile office, a hologram of Infinity popped up from the Senator’s wrist.

“Stilwell here” he said. “Go ahead Agent Stairs”.

“Whack Team, descending; did we miss curfew?”

“Party cancelled- wait one” replied the Senator.  

Lieutenant Baxter was impressed by the futuristic communications device. The hologram of Infinity Stairs also left an impression, and he whistled his approval.

“And these folks are?” he asked.

“They’re a team of agents, assigned to this facility. They won’t start a firefight but they will end one” the Senator stated matter-of-factly. “Tell your men to hold their fire.”

“Hold fire” the Lieutenant announced from a rooftop megaphone. “Hold fire. Senator, have your team walk to the gate and surrender their weapons.”

“Ain’t gonna happen” answered Stilwell. “Not in this lifetime. Lieutenant- Bob, look. These agents are trained, and rule one of that training is never give up your weapon. Now I promise you-“

“Drop your weapons now!” the Lieutenant’s voice boomed once more via megaphone. Just then, another hologram appeared from the Senator’s wrist. It was Franz Graber.

“Lieutenant Baxter! Lieutenant, this is Franz! Do not engage AlternityCorp agents.“

“Senator Stilwell,” interrupted Colonel Jaspers using the same chronophone. “We’ve got big problems!”

With military guards on one side of the fence, the team of special agents arrived to a Mexican standoff.

Chronopolis

Chapter Thirty Eight, Maria’s Apartment

Maria closed her eyes tightly as Doctor Benjamin Binder led her by the hand. He in turn was being led down the narrow back alleys of Chronopolis by a young agent whom Binder did not recognize.

“Where are we?” asked the doctor.

“Oh, you haven’t gone anywhere, Ben, not really” answered the handsome youth.

They soon arrived at an inconspicuous wooden door just off the main alley, and the agent used a master-control card to open it.

“Right this way” he said, leading them up a flight of stairs. They came into a modest but pleasant two bedroom apartment that overlooked an alley in the rear and a busy marketplace out front.

“Everything you need is within a few hundred yards, Doc” said the man.

Maria sat quietly looking over the room. There was much she didn’t understand, but it felt safe.

“This is a nice place,” opined the Doctor, “it’s really comfortable.”

“Go ahead, take a look around” said the agent. “It’s all yours for the next twenty years.”

Doctor Binder walked through the apartment room by room and liked what he saw. A smoking room, a study, and a pantry for Maria,

“Maria, come look at this!” the doctor called out. She rose gingerly from her chair and walked down the foyer, running her tiny hands along the walls to feel their texture. She found the doctor looking into a small room with a crib and interesting things hanging from the ceiling. He placed a hand on her ripe stomach, and she held his hand in hers.

“We took the liberty of painting it pink” smiled the agent.

“Oh- know something we don’t?” asked Doctor Binder.

“Yeah” the agent laughed, “a lot of things.”

Binder extended a hand to the agent and said, “I didn’t get your name, son”.   

“Sorry Doc- it’s Fulton, Jefferson Fulton. My friends call me Photon. I’ll be your guardian angel for the foreseeable future- and at AlternityCorp, that’s saying something!” They both laughed. “I won’t always be here, but I’ll be close.”

“So what do we do here?” asked the doctor.

“You live” said the agent. “And you take care of the baby, she’s quite a gal.”

“Pardon?” asked Binder.

“Right” said Fulton. “You’re safe here; that’s what matters right now.”

“How do we contact you?” asked Binder.

“There’s a chronophone on the wall” the agent replied. “Don’t show it to anybody, please. And there’s a computer in your smoking room; you won’t want anybody to see that either.”

“And may I ask why not?” said Binder.

“Because nothing like it will exist for a few years to come; starting to understand?”

“Yes, I believe I am” the doctor answered.

Special Agent Photon Fulton looked at his oscillator readout and went to use the bathroom. “I have to leave. Keep her in there for a little while, can do?”

“I will” answered Doctor Binder. “And, thank you son” he said.

“It’s my job, Doc- but I’d be glad to help in any case; take care of yourselves.”

The agent disappeared into the bathroom, filled the tub with water, and immersed himself.