Chapter 17


Capulin Station, New Mexico

July 16, 59,886 BCE

 

Nathan woke to a piercing agony searing his back. His eyes flickered open to semi-darkness. He was face-down, his body pressed against a hard, rough surface. He twisted and tried to sit up, but pain shot through his mid-section and drove a gasp from his chest. Gravel bit his palms, and a cool breeze chilled his bare torso, bringing with it the foul odor of decay. At least someone had put a pillow under his head.

A woman's voice, indifferent and cold, broke the silence. "You're awake."

More careful this time, he moved his head to face the sound. An old woman sat on the ground next to him, her arms wrapped about her knees. Behind her, silvery light poured from the open glass doors of the refuge. Memory came tumbling back as he peered at his companion. It was the old woman he'd saved. "You look different. What happened to me?"

"A saber-tooth attacked you. You lost a lot of blood."

Saber-tooth. He shuddered, remembering how a grotesque cat had gutted the buffalo calf with its incisors. "What did it do to me?" He twisted and winced again as knife-like pain slashed through his body from his lower back into his abdomen. "I hurt."

"It clawed your back." For all the emotion she showed, she could have been discussing a hangnail. "You're lucky to be alive."

He drew a shuddering breath. "I remember something stalking you. I recall that I carried you across the stream, but not much after." He chewed his cheek. "I can't sit up."

She shrugged. "You'll get better. The nano-docs will repair you. If you were going to die, it would have happened by now."

Nice of you to thank me for saving your life. Bitch. He examined her again. Age still withered her features, but her black eye was gone. How long had he been out? He rested his head back on the pillow. "So what happened? Or am I dead and gone to hell?"

A tight smile flashed on her features before they turned cold again. "You're quite alive, Nathan. In fact, you've got amazing healing powers. I thought you'd bleed out before I could get nano-docs in you."

How did she know his name? He groaned and squirmed to try to find a comfortable position. "Nano-docs again? I guess that explains a lot. But why didn't the fucking saber-tooth eat me?" 

"There are wards, mini-drones, buried all around the station's borders for peripheral defense. The pheromones from the tiger activated the ones in the streambed. By the time the needle guns mounted on the roof got a clear shot, the drones had already filleted the tiger's muscles into hamburger. Imagine a horde of flying piranha, but with titanium razors for teeth and intelligent coordination."

"Lovely." His back throbbed again, and he heaved a sigh. "I saw the needle guns work, before." He thought some more. "Why weren't there sparks? Something sparked before when I saw a buffalo try to cross the stream."

"The system sends a small shock to warn away animals. If the creature persists, or is too big, the guns fire. But you're human, last time I checked. The wards ignore people."

"Oh." He closed his eyes to rest. Then he replayed her earlier words, and worry nibbled at him. He roused himself and looked her in the eye, where he met an implacable gaze. Not exactly reassuring. "You said the fucking thing clawed my back?"

"Oh, that." She shrugged. "Yes, the tiger's claws filleted the muscles of your back right before the drones struck. Lots of blood and gore. I ran into the station and got a handful of nano-doc injectors even though I was sure you were a goner." Another cold smile came and went. "Turns out I was wrong. You lived. You're welcome, by the way."

"Seems to me we're even. I saved you. You saved me." He nuzzled into the pillow and tried to ignore the agony in his back. "Haakon injected me with nano-docs a couple days ago." He frowned in a moment of confusion. Supposedly, a couple days ago he was in 2018, then in the Pleistocene, followed by 1962. After that he jumped to middle ages, and now he was back in the Pleistocene, but not as far back as before. Yesterday had kind of lost meaning. "I used them on him, too. They cured him of an arrow through his shoulder. He slept through it. Why do I still hurt?"

"How should I know? Every injury is different. If there were nano-docs already inside of you, that explains why you didn't die at once."

He groaned. "Great. So why am I still lying here in the dirt instead of in that nice, warm bed I saw inside?"

"That's easy. You're too big for me to carry. Can you walk?"

Nathan arched his back and daggers tore into his spine and sliced at his innards. "No." He considered for a moment. "It doesn't seem quite as bad as when I first woke, though."

"You'll be able to walk by morning. I hope. In the meantime, you're safe here. I set the station to high alert. I brought you a pillow." Her manner implied he had everything he could possibly wish for.

The breeze picked up, and sent tingles across his bare skin. "A blanket would be nice." He thought for a moment. "I'm hungry, too."

"I'll be back." She uncoiled, rose to her feet, and padded away.

"Wait."

She turned and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Yes?"

"You seem to know my name. What's yours?"

"You don't recognize me?" Her brow furrowed in a tiny frown. "Perhaps not. It has been a rather long time. You knew me as Charlotte Corbett." She turned on her heel and strode away, her white hair streaming after her.

Corbett. Not the thirty-something woman with raven-black hair, muscles like a panther, and rapier wit that Haakon had sparred with. This frail woman was at least seventy, maybe more. It didn't matter. Nathan believed her. He closed his eyes and tried to rest.

 

****

Sunlight warmed Nathan's cheeks, and a bird twittered at him from across the stream. He rolled over and the blanket tangled with his legs. His lower back and legs cramped as if he'd run a Marathon yesterday. He sat up and tossed the blanket to one side. Four enormous scars ran from his right side and around his back. His internal organs still tingled when he moved, but yesterday's agony was gone.

Across the stream, the mutilated carcass of a saber-tooth lay half-in and half-out of the water. Foot-long furred creatures that weren't quite ferrets swarmed over and through the body, feasting on the fetid remains. Revulsion dragged his mouth down, and he turned to the refuge. Despite the disgusting sight and smell, he was hungry and thirsty. And he really needed to pee.

Bacon and coffee smells accompanied a clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. Nathan hurried past and into the bedroom to use the facilities. He stripped and ran a warm washcloth over the accumulated dirt on his face and body. He traced wondering fingers across the scars that circled his torso, from his rippled abs to his back. It was like touching someone else's skin—the only sensation was in his fingers, not in the flesh they touched. Corbett's words came back. "Sliced in half," was what she'd said. He shuddered and searched the wardrobe for clean clothes.

When he finally entered the kitchen, Corbett was just slipping an omelet onto a gleaming, white plate.

He gave her his best jaunty grin and asked, "Is that for me? It smells wonderful."

Even in the morning sun, her complexion was still the color of eggshells. She favored him with a brittle smile. "It was for me, but I can fix another. I hope you like anchovies."

He squished his features as he accepted the plate. "Anchovies in an omelet? Where did you learn to cook?"

"At the Culinary Academy of New York in 2126, thank you very much."

She'd already set the table, complete with a pitcher of orange juice. He plopped down, poured a glass, and dug in. "This is good. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She poured more eggs in the skillet and scattered ingredients across the top. "I'm glad you're feeling better. We've got a trek ahead of us today."

"A trek? Where to? No, wait. I've got a ton of questions for you."

"Ask away. We've got a few hours before we need to leave."

"Am I going to be all right? I've got this amazing scar."

Her eyes rolled. "How should I know? Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. Astonishingly better. How long was I out?"

"It's been twenty-eight hours since the incident with the saber-tooth." She paused to fold her omelet. "If you're feeling better, you are better."

He slurped down more orange juice while he organized his thoughts. "Okay, what are you doing here?"

"I came to rescue you, of course. Claude should never have left you here."

"You say that like he planned to just abandon me."

"That is exactly what he did." She slid her omelet onto a plate and sat at the table.

This wasn't getting him anywhere. "You're way older than when I last saw you."

"Thank you for noticing." She took a prim sip of juice.

"How long did it take you to figure out he'd dumped me?" The jerk left him in the lurch in Iowa, and now in the Pleistocene. Nathan knew he couldn't trust the bastard.

"It was obvious at once that he'd dumped you, as you put it. But I didn't find out where you were at for over a century."

A century. "How old are you?"

"I was born in 1058."

He slammed his fist on the table. "Stop it. Just give me a straight answer, will you?"

A simpering smile played across her features. "Over one hundred and sixty years of my personal timeline passed before Claude…revealed to me where he'd left you." She nibbled at a bit of bacon. "I came as soon as I could. I really couldn't say for sure how long I've lived. Several centuries."

Adrenalin sent electric tingles down his arms and out his fingers. "Centuries?"

She shrugged. "It's a residual by-product of the nano-docs."

His breath caught in his throat. "I've got nano-docs in me. Are you saying—" He couldn't finish the question.

"Yes. You'll need a booster every half century or so to maintain the longevity effect, and to update them on any novel diseases that might have cropped up. Not a problem for a field agent."

This was too much. Every half century or so. He fingered the scar under his shirt. Wait. What else had she just said? "Field agent?"

"Right. With the nano-docs in you, you can't go back to being a temporal. That runs a direct risk of a Deviation. Lucky for you, Control insists that you be given a chance to join our ranks, to become a Timekeeper. Chaos knows why. Ordinarily, they'd send you to the exile colony at the KT boundary." Another cold smile bent her lips. "Alternatively, I could kill you right now. Your choice."

He suppressed a shiver. He was sure she wasn't joking. Whatever it was, maybe being a field agent wouldn't be so bad. It wasn't like his life back in Iowa was going anywhere. A new start sounded like it could be a good thing, especially given who else was a Timekeeper. "You mean be an agent, like Haakon?" His heart quickened at the thought of the man as he'd last seen him, with that sober expression and gallant salute. Maybe they could work together, as partners.

For the first time her face showed emotion: pity. "Not like Haakon. He was a criminal and a renegade. He was brave, I'll give him that. But no, you'd best not be anything like him."

Fear chilled Nathan's core. "He was brave?" His voice quavered.

"Right." She shrugged. "I know the two of you were close. He was injured at the Battle of Stamford Bridge, and then he just vanished. Whatever happened to him, he sacrificed everything for billions of souls. In the end, despite his sins, he was a hero."