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CHAPTER 32

Sean Elliott didn’t have a superior authority to discuss with here. He was the final word, and he was only a captain. Much as Cole’s career was going to be affected, negatively, by circumstances beyond his control and his responses to them, Sean’s was hinging on decisions here.

He planned to ask Spencer, and possibly Caswell, for input. Hell, even Doc and perhaps Dr. Sheridan. The decisions were his, though.

He sat at a single table and chair produced on the spot for him, on a rooftop balcony. It was a medium-size building, and he could see a skyline of wilderness and other structures, walkways, gardens, people on foot, and occasional vehicles. Over there appeared to be the massive block containing the facilities his people were housed in. It was an amorphous anthracite lump, as if a kid made a brick from modeling clay. The sun was still barely tinging the horizon. He suspected some sort of dome or field, because it should be cooler and it wasn’t, but the air was very fresh. There was no one else around him.

The lost element’s interpreter had died here. Reporting that wasn’t a huge problem for him, no matter how much it sucked for the family. Report, let the Army handle it.

Cole’s failures, which they were, no matter the circumstances, were something to write up and pass on. If asked, he’d note that he’d managed better under similar circumstances.

Burnham should have stepped up more, but he was enlisted and subordinate to his officer. Officially everything else was consensual, so he couldn’t really be blamed and shouldn’t be. And he’d managed to keep the respect of the other troops.

The two detainees. Not his problem, but he’d have to report on their activities. The general would decide if additional discipline came into play. His best recommendation was to grant them discharges immediately, so they weren’t an Army problem. At the same time, they needed support and counseling. Though the Bykos could quite probably erase memories or manipulate thoughts to reduce the issues. The questions there were: What would the Bykos think of that professionally, politically, socially, ethically? What did Captain Sean Elliott think of it? And what would the US Army think of it? As nonpracticing as he was, what would God think of messing with a man’s mind to change his personality?

If he didn’t raise the question to the Bykos or mention their skills to the Army, that avoided all that, but still left one man very socially and mentally sick, and another in distress if not outright anger. It wouldn’t be his problem on paper, but could he respect himself with that outcome? The problems were theirs to deal with, as others had, but the triggering events weren’t, and he had options. It was all ugly.

Then…Denise Noirot. A very broken but overall decent young woman—with a child. The child couldn’t go to their time. Noirot probably, hopefully, wanted to stay with her daughter. They could probably be happy here at first, but they’d basically be pets and lab rats. The child might grow up trained in everything this society offered, but Noirot, while not stupid, wasn’t the type to grasp any of the advanced sciences. What could she do for a living here?

He had no real control of that. It wasn’t his issue, but she was one of his troops and he had a moral obligation as commander.

The second part was explaining her back home as a casualty, when she actually wasn’t. The lie didn’t bother him in context. Everything about this time frame was deniable and denied. What about her family, though? Or her thoughts of them? “Sorry, we went back to the wilds of A-stan to find this missing element and, well, she was dead.” Any story told like that would suck. She’d been through more than most, and she was getting punished for Cole’s failure, as well as the Bykos’ fuckup.

He was definitely going to lay the latter at their feet and demand…something.

This wasn’t a set of decisions a mere captain should have to make. Nor, really, anyone should have to.

He was startled by House’s voice. “Captain, you are needed at the facility.”

“Crap, what now?”

“Disciplinary questions require your input. Should I brief, or will you return?”

“If there’s no violence, let me go back.”

An illuminated platform appeared in front of him. He stepped aboard, and a saddle rose up. In a moment, he was rolling…floating…something, back toward the facility, and fast.

It was barely three minutes before the scooter had him along the walkways, through the tunnel and gate, around the perimeter and in front of the detention area. He leaned forward and up, stepped off the transport, and through the arch.

Cole was right inside, and offered a salute, which he returned.

“Thank you for coming, Captain. I needed additional support.”

“Very well, what’s up?”

Cole explained, “I called because you are the senior officer. It has been detailed to Sergeant Munoz that he can comply with our regulations and my reasonable orders for schedule, or he will be fed only the nutrient biscuits the system can provide. I’ve ordered lights out, he’s refusing.”

“That seems fine. You just needed my confirmation?”

“No, sir, the caretaker required you to be present and confirm for him. It?”

“Ah. House, that is a reasonable order for our people, and I endorse it. In fact,” he continued, being sure to be heard, “I endorse any discipline that maintains nutrition and fitness, including curtailment of all entertainment, and liquid nutrition only. If they want to sit sixteen hours a day, staring at a blank wall, drinking glop, in preference to complying with our procedures, they may do so. Kill the lights when the ranking member asks.”

“I understand, Captain. I have confirmed with our leadership, who endorsed similar limits as safe and enforceable if necessary.”

“Perfect. Listen up. You lot want to go home. We want to take you home. I realize it’s been a rough five years, but you’re here now. We can talk reasonably, offer support, limited local counseling, and very good accommodations. Comply with the process, we’ll get you home and arrange all the benefits we can. Otherwise, you can sit in individual detention. That’s all.

“If you do have any concerns you can’t address, and need a shoulder, advice, comfort, we’ll do our best. But that’s contingent on you making a credible effort. Capisce?”

Several voices responded, “Hooah.” They didn’t sound thrilled.

He said so.

“I’ll expect more enthusiasm later. Now, if you can go along with things until dinner tomorrow, I’ll make sure you get equivalent recreation and downtime after that.” He wasn’t sure what that might entail at this point, but good liquor was probably part of it.

On the one hand, he was very sympathetic to how fucked up things had been for them. On the other, they were back in civilization and needed to readapt.

And how rough was it going to be in their own time? With at least one of them threatening to scream to the media? Even if they weren’t believed, it would be a scene.

This hadn’t resolved any of his concerns.

He stepped back out.

“House, please take me where I was. I need another hour alone to destress, and back to our lodging.”

“Confirmed.”


The sky was beautifully clear here, almost as much as the Paleolithic. He saw a streak of a meteor. Just a line that crossed the sky and faded.

An hour later, no closer to answers, House announced, “Sean, you wanted a time notification.”

“Thanks. House. Guide back, please.”

He did sleep with mild help from House, and woke up feeling physically better.

He started to load down on breakfast, then realized he didn’t need to. He was in the habit of “post field, grab something good,” but they’d had plenty of decent food. He switched to bacon, good scrambled eggs, and coffee.

He let everyone eat, then called formation in formation. He liked being relaxed, but the military did these things for a reason and they should be upheld.

“At ease,” he ordered. “I have some follow-up with the other unit, and I need to discuss with a couple of you first. I assume once I’m done with that, everyone here can handle their own PT, collate notes and summaries, and remain available for follow-up?”

There was a collective “Hooah.”

“Good. We still have work to do. Then this follow-up.”

Spencer came to attention and raised his hand.

“Sergeant Spencer, go ahead.”

“Sir, I need to start prepping for that demo they want me to do, and I need some other hands.”

That was handy. “Excellent. Proceed with that, anyone who is free will assist, and I’ll help as much as I can once I handle this.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need to consult with Spencer, Caswell, Doc, and Dr. Sheridan if you’re free.”

“I am.”

“Company, Attention! Fall out.”

His selected advisors came over. He bade everyone sit and get beverages.

“Here’s my biggest issue for now,” he introduced. “Noirot’s daughter has to remain here.”

Caswell exclaimed, “Oh, no!”

“Yeah.” He summarized the issue. Daughter to remain to avoid reproducing in either past or their present. Noirot probably to remain with her.

“First question, Dr. Sheridan: Does that seem reasonable within your scientific background?”

The large woman made a face, and sat quietly. He let her think in silence. It was a solid two minutes before she replied.

“There’s a notable genetic difference between the Paleos and us. Any trace would show an abnormally high Central Asian parental haplogroup. There’s no significant genetic risk, and if there were problems, the fetus would likely not survive to term. From a scientific risk, if I were someone who had some reason to examine her genome, even a commercial DNA test, I would notice the aberration.

“Of course, they may know something specific, or just have a generalized risk assessment, against allowing the possibility. Without knowing their threat matrix or anything about time travel, I can’t even guess on that. What did they say?”

He shook his head. “They didn’t offer and I didn’t ask. If they say no, I’m not sure the details matter. So it’s some sort of caution on their part?”

Sheridan held up her open hands. “That seems the case from presentation. They took all our data on return. As in, our files were updated with what they wanted us to have, and we’ll have to beg for the other data.”

“Okay, accepting that, I have to break the news to her. Then, we will have to be prepared to offer a cover story. I’m not sure we can tell leadership without an issue.”

Spencer said, “These kids are all blabbermouths. Keeping it from the public will be hard enough. From command? They’ll know everything about it in loud whines five minutes after we return.”

“Yeah, I was hoping that wasn’t the case.”

Caswell cautiously said, “Sir…there’s no really good way to present it. But if you can get Noirot a tour here, since they plan to keep her, she may warm up to the idea quickly. We could take her with us, then they can give her a guided tour. I can summarize my concerns for their counselors. We tell the general when we get back. They manage the cover story.”

Doc nodded. “I’m not a psychiatrist but that seems valid. Let her become amazed with this place. Ask her what she thinks of staying. Follow from there.”

Sean sighed in relief. “I guess part of me is glad I don’t have to do it today. I honestly hadn’t thought about the positives beyond, ‘this place is neat.’ But it really is, isn’t it?”

Sheridan said, “I wouldn’t mind staying if they’d let me work and keep my findings.”

“I can see that and I understand your frustrations. Okay, let’s do this. Caswell, can you come with me to collect her?”

“I can.”

“House, can you page Researcher Zep and run the conversation we just had past her?”

“I will.”

“Also, why wasn’t she already here or raising these matters?”

“I don’t have any information on that.”

Sheridan cocked an eyebrow. “I almost wonder if they wanted to see how we handled it internally first.”

He shrugged. “Being fair, part of it is up to us. They don’t want to step on our cultural toes.”

Zep appeared at the doorway.

“May I approach?” she asked.

“Please.”

“Thank you. I heard your summary and it is approved. After you help her acclimate, we can show her additional features. It may not actually be necessary to demand she stay. She may ask.”

He was irritated. “I wish you could have said that up front.”

She said, “As you discussed, we wanted to give you as much room as possible in your own milieu.” She could be friendly, but she was also a scientist at work, and they had a structure of regulations as much as he did.

“Thanks, I think. Okay, let’s get started. Everyone else help Sergeant Spencer prep.”

He rose, and led Caswell and Zep to the adjoining facility.

As they entered, Burnham shouted, “Attention!”

Good, the man had his military discipline in place. So did most of the element. It took a couple of seconds, but eight of them did stand to attention. He ignored Lozano and Munoz.

Sean at once said, “Thank you, at ease. Does anyone have anything needing my attention at this moment?”

There were some glances but no hands or questions.

“Good. Lieutenant Cole, you’ve had breakfast and PT?”

“We have, and inspected our gear and stowed it over there.” He pointed to a stack.

“Good.” The man was doing much better in a safer environment.

Sean began with, “We need to discuss some particular items with Sergeant Noirot. We’ll be following up on some items individually. There will be some scheduled recreation later that includes a local bar. I recommend following up with our current events. House, can you give them a feed of whatever you have between their time ticks, I guess? Alternate our info and entertainment, get them up to speed.”

House replied, “Records are incomplete, but I’ll create a list of what we have.”

“Thank you. Lieutenant, with your permission, we need Sergeant Noirot and her daughter.”

“Go ahead, sir. Thanks for asking.”

“Thank you. Noirot! Please come along with your daughter.”

“Yes, sir!” she acknowledged. Her daughter was watching kaleidoscope images on the wall and clapping. They stopped, she took the girl by the hand, and came over. The girl was wearing a calico dress that tied at the shoulders and was belted, with shorts underneath and sandals. Those seemed to be the easiest footwear for her.

Caswell said, “That’s adorable.”

“It is.”

“Yes, sir?” Noirot asked as she approached.

“You’re first for a tour and some background. Ms. Zep, is there a transport option like last night?”

“Yes,” the woman agreed. “This way.”

Outside the hall, a sled waited. It looked like a sled, just no animals. They stepped in, took seats, and off it went, with Kita clutching her mother’s arm before relaxing. She was getting used to the idea of movable people containers.

He could now see the rough outline inside, of what he’d seen outside. This was a substantial block of buildings.

“I hadn’t realized how big it was,” Noirot said.

“Honestly, neither had I,” he admitted.

Caswell added, “It’s gotten bigger, I think. I wonder how they construct things.”

“Probably printed from the inside,” he suggested.

They drove past several large items of equipment, and the transfer pad. Then there was a more normal-looking section that could almost be offices.

Suddenly they were outside. Sunlight, gardens, fountains, walkways on the ground and in the air, people traveling in conveyances and on foot.

“Wowww!” she said in awe, while her daughter just stared. The kid was obviously trying to figure it all out, and obviously processing it.

“Yeah, it’s neat.”

“This is cool.”

That didn’t begin to cover it. Everything looked like a presentation garden. He saw a couple of apparent workers, and several small machines handling weeding and edging.

Zep led them down a path that led around a building, and there was a playground. It was recognizable at once. There were things to climb on, rock on, swing on. They were more sophisticated, and of materials he couldn’t identify, but it was functionally the same.

Noirot burst out, “Oh, thanks! This is great!”

They dismounted, and the woman had to hold her daughter as the girl clutched her legs for a couple of minutes, unsure how to react. There were other children playing, in randomly shifting groups, but Kita was a complete outsider.

Finally, she tried a slide and laughed, a swing and giggled, and climbed better than the local kids up a maze of ropes, bars, hoops, and rods. She didn’t speak any language in common, but they were all playing. Noirot led the girl around and assisted, and seemed as delighted as a young mother could be.

Caswell said, “Note the adults. Those are caretakers but not parents.”

“You can tell?”

“Presentation, yes.”

Zep said, “Some are parents to others, some are facility staff, some are individually contracted. Any of them will step in as needed.”

Sean said, “Huh, that’s how it used to be in the US, before everyone became lawsuit happy and afraid of perverts.”

Caswell asked, “What are the neck bands all the kids are wearing? Like shoulder pads?”

“Emergency helmets. If they fall those deploy.”

“How far does a kid have to fall for that to be a problem?”

“Any head injuries are bad.”

“Yeah, but helmets even to run around and play?” It wasn’t really a helmet, but the effect was the same.

Zep said, “It only takes one bad fall. Once they’re steady on their feet, those are removed.”

It seemed ridiculously overprotective, given their medical knowledge, but apparently they were that cautious. It wasn’t his business.

There were microdrones around, watching everything, and on the far side was a Guardian in the fluorescent uniform they wore on patrol here.

From there, they took the child for old-fashioned cotton candy. Nothing like sugar to dial a kid up. Then a ride around the buildings and a walk through the huge loaf shape where the bars were. It was sort of like a high-tech mall. Some of the other facilities were stores or outfitters.

Really, Sean could be back doing other things, but he rationalized it as familiarization, and really, he needed a bit of downtime to help focus things. Yeah, familiarization…

Kids were a handful, and he was a career military officer, but he was probably going to be married at some point…

He recalled playing with his younger brother, but only two years separated them. This was a different perspective.

Finally, though, he announced, “I need to attend to other things. Sergeant Caswell, are you good with this duty?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Good. We’ll meet back at dinnertime. This evening we take them out.”

“Yup. Hooah, sir.” She saluted, he returned it, and he left.

No one had mentioned their uniforms, though he was sure every adult knew who they were.


Armand Devereaux enjoyed spaghetti for dinner, and a pile of fresh strawberries after. Having everything served actually made it easier to eat healthy.

It was a late dinner, and past 1900 when they were done. He headed for the bathroom, because it was much more elaborate than a latrine, and let it shower him clean. Though “clean” here was relative after field conditions.

He asked for jeans, white shoes, a blue turtleneck and a white jacket. Anything street style would be meaningless here, and he really only wore stuff like that in clubs that catered to it. This was a more upscale, suburban, arty crowd.

He emerged and looked around, and holy crap, was Caswell wearing a dress? Green, shoulders, knee length. And her hair was red again. Damn, she had a good figure. Earrings, too, he noticed. Even Dr. Sheridan was in some sort of dress that didn’t look like a sack on her. Raven wore something definitely tribal and long in blue with glyphs, with short sleeves, over slacks. She had a silver hairpiece woven through a long braid. She seemed giddy.

“Armand, look!” she said, and did a deep squat. Then she hopped. “My ankle bends!”

“Excellent,” he agreed. He wondered if the bad ankle had hindered exercise, leading to some of her weight.

“And they say I should have a permanent improvement in migraine symptoms and metabolism.”

Honestly, she had amazing breasts and a round ass. She had extra weight around front he didn’t care for, but she wasn’t huge, and she did have striking features. Those dark eyes…

The guys were in various mixes of pants, tight shirts if they could get away with it, collars, and coats.

Captain Elliott, in similar dress to him, said, “Okay, people, let’s do this. I let them dress as they wish. Let’s pick them up and take them. Cryder and Arnet will be around…here they come, in fact.”

The two tall men strode over, and holy crap, Arnet was wearing platforms. He was almost 6′9″ like that. He wore tight pants, his abs showing and chest covered. And yeah…his cheeks were on display. Jesus. Armand had seen other outfits like that here, but seeing it up close on someone he knew was different.

Cryder wore what was almost a dress uniform, with shoulder flares and tucked boots.

Elliott continued with, “Good to see you again, and thanks for coming. I’m told there’s backup?”

Cryder grinned. “Well, there’s us. In three seconds we can have other Guardians on-site, and there will be some mingling. Several of the researchers will be around to observe, and to step in if they see an issue. Ready?”

“Yes, let’s get them.”

Next door, the other element was dressed up more twenty-first-century club. Kita was occupied, apparently with a professional caretaker who was showing her board games and Legos.

“Ah, Danish caltrops,” Spencer quipped.

Armand lost it for a second and everyone looked at him.

Elliott asked, “Everyone ready? This is informal, just follow us. Lozano, Munoz, good of you to join us.”

Lozano shrugged. “Yeah, well a bar sounds good, and there’s nowhere to go from here at present.”

Munoz sort of half smiled, looking almost ashamed.

They followed a guide light out, down the perimeter of the building, up and across a walkway with the sun starting to dip into clouds that glowed like an oil painting.

Elliott spoke as he led. “We haven’t seen a lot, only a couple of establishments and this amazing view. You’ll be pleased, though. I asked for music and dancers and they agreed. Otherwise, there’s no telling what the entertainment is.”

They entered the commercial building and the long stairs that were almost a ramp, down one floor and right.

The captain continued, “Anyway, along this way, this is the Mad Laboratory.” It had a different façade again, looking like old cut stone. He pointed to the sign that almost looked like English, with what almost looked like Russian underneath, and what might have been some derivation of Chinese on one side.

Through the door, and Armand saw Zep, Twine, Ruj, Researcher Xing he knew from their last trip, and two others he recognized but didn’t know. Twine was in what was almost a leotard with slack legs, as hot as she always was. And there was the brunette babe Spencer had been hanging out with.

Damn, the women love me, he thought. He’d never seen another black person, or anyone with any African ancestry. They were all Eurasians of some type. He always had women wanting to talk. He now saw Uhiara get the same attention, and Oyo get it from the men.

Much as he liked hot chicks wanting to dance, and that amazing woman Alani he’d slept with the night before they went back, he needed to keep track of his patients. He was trying to find a polite fiction for the patron when Alexian Twine slid up next to him and placed an arm on his.

“Can I assist?” she asked with a melting smile.

“Yeah, keep me from having to deal with anyone else.”

She grinned. “I’m flattered.” Quickly, she added, “No, that’s fine, I understand your concern.”

Good.

The music was sensual, with a lot of modulation, a steady tempo, and a good beat with plenty of subsonics. There were elements of Indian, Arabic, Continental, and Russian. It was absolutely dancing music, and he did some, as far as he could dance, which wasn’t much. Twine was very fluid and even sexier. Caswell, damn. Once she felt safe, she could move. She even let two of the local men touch her and actually dance, sinuous and slinky and looking very happy. Good. She’d been almost a basket case their first trip. It was reassuring to see her comfortable.

Oyo was managing as well, and it looked as if she might want to sneak off for some private time with one or two of her dancers.

He held up a hand to Alexian, stopped. “House, can I talk to the captain?”

“Hey, Doc, I’m here.”

“What rules do we have on them hooking up?”

“If House can ensure their safety and avoiding more children, midnight curfew remains, and I may extend it slightly per circumstances.”

“House, can you let everyone know?”

“How should I phrase it?”

“Tell them they can leave the area as long as they let you know, and must return by midnight.”

“I will do so.”

Granted his experience was a singular, but getting laid in the future, by people who knew what they were doing, might help shake them loose from the past a bit more.

In fact, most of them seemed to be connecting, almost as if those were either paid professionals, or volunteers who’d had a chance to check them over first. Even Lozano…

“…House, how old is that girl with Lozano?”

“She is an adult professional by both our standards, if that is your inquiry.”

“Yes, thanks.” Adult by his standards, so at least eighteen. She looked thirteen. How had that son of a bitch arranged that already? But at least she was an adult.

Security turned out not to be an issue.

As usual, Dalton was watching from the side, and both Raven and Sheridan became spectators after a few rounds on the floor.

Still, it appeared everyone who wanted to was able to connect with someone. Cole and Burnham did not, but appeared to be in officer and NCO mode. Burnham was also married. Uhiara limited himself to dancing without touching. Of their own people, he didn’t see Oglesby…or Caswell. Well, good for her.

By ten, everyone had either gone somewhere else, or was gathered as leadership, watching the dance floor and enjoying some serious groove.

“Good plan, sir. Drinks and dental work.”

Elliott laughed. “I like that phrase. Still, it seems they’re enjoying the best we can arrange.”

Armand wondered what better could be arranged either for money or as a favor for having been lost. There were probably professionals here with serious skills.

They edged toward the door and started to make their way back.

Cryder clapped their shoulders. “Thanks for inviting us. Fun to see and to be comped.”

“Comped?” he asked.

Alexian said, “This was covered on the research facility budget.”

Cryder returned, “Indeed, and appreciated. Actually have to get back to prime and child, though.” He nodded and left.

Damn. Married with a kid? No reason why not, but he’d never mentioned it once in…months.

It made sense. Privacy was a construct so you held what you had.

Alexian brushed Armand’s arm. “Hopefully we can catch up tomorrow after the demo and not be corralling people.”

“Sure,” he agreed.

“Have a good evening.”

He could think of ways it could be better, but he had officer crap to do.


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