CHAPTER 13
What’s In It For Them
“Stone, would you see that Eunice gets to bed all right?” Thrash said.
Stone and one of the maids got Eunice to her feet and half dragged her from the room.
Garley and Thrash looked at each other, small smiles playing around their lips like friendly puppies. “Well?” Hunt asked, hoping they would take the hint to begin.
“Yes,” Thrash said, “it’s time.” He leaned forward on his elbows, getting chummy with Hunt and Jan. “I was very impressed with the weapons you used on Slippery Sam’s people,” he said as if he were letting them in on a big secret.
“Special effects, you told the police,” Jan said.
“I did,” Thrash admitted. “But I know just as you do that’s not true. Those weapons are from the future and so are you boys.” He sat back in his chair, ready to enjoy the effect this revelation would have on Hunt and Jan.
Neither Hunt nor Jan made a remark. Their faces showed no reaction. They were not ready to admit anything.
“Lighten up, boys,” Garley said. “I told him how we got here. Denying it will do you no good.”
Hunt nodded. If he hadn’t seen the weapons in action, Thrash might not have believed her. But as things stood, Hunt was pretty sure they couldn’t fool Thrash any longer. “What’s in this for you?” he asked.
Garley took a long sip of wine and a deep breath. “You know I don’t like the System Guard,” she said at last.
“Despite the fact that two Guard cadets saved your life,” Hunt reminded her.
Thrash laughed, causing Garley to frown. “I suppose that makes everything all right,” she said sarcastically.
“If not all right, then you might at least give us the benefit of the doubt,” Jan said.
Garley opened her mouth to answer that, but Hunt interrupted her. “I think we get it,” he said. “You hate the System Guard. Can we move on? What has that to do with Andrew Gordon?”
“You’ve been to the Academy,” Garley pointed out angrily, “had all the history courses, heard all the propaganda, been fully indoctrinated. You know that when he gets older or got older or will get older—Dr. Eignbergen will need to invent some new tenses along with his time machine—Andrew Gordon will start a flying school that eventually will become the System Guard Academy.”
Hunt had a bad feeling about this, but he plunged in with a guess: “But now that he’s won the contest, he is more interested in acting than in flying.”
“That’s right, big boy. I was going to just kill him, but Mr. Thrash suggested a less messy way to stop him.”
Thrash nodded. “I can be violent if I must,” he admitted, “but it is never my first choice.”
“What is your first choice?” Hunt asked. He was getting tired of going around in circles.
Thrash ignored Hunt’s question and looked directly at Garley, eye to eye, as if he were trying to hypnotize her. “Tell him, dear,” Thrash said, “Tell him what’s in it for you.”
“Merely the non-existence of the Academy. It will never be founded,” Garley said, enjoying the prospect. “Thrash already helped me accomplish that by allowing Andrew Gordon to win the contest.”
“And in return,” Jan said, “You promised him weapons from the future. That ought to put Mr. Thrash way ahead of Slippery Sam, and the police too.”
“I am confident,” Thrash said agreeably.
“What do you need us for?” Hunt asked.
“I was wondering the same thing,” Thrash said. He stared at Garley, waiting for an answer.
She frowned and shifted in her seat. Hunt, Jan, and Thrash watched her calmly, as if she were an exhibit. She would have to tell them something eventually. The only question was whether or not it would be the truth.
“I don’t know how to operate the time machine,” she confessed, then hurried on. “That’s why I encouraged you to get your hands on Hunt and Jan. They saw the inventor operate it. They can get your weapons for you. I owe you that much.”
“You have some nerve,” Thrash said admiringly.
“I do,” Garley said, suddenly sparkling with delight.
“All right,” Hunt said. “I’m glad we’re all friends again. But neither of you counted on one thing.”
“And that is?”
“Jan and I will not help you.”
“I thought as much,” Thrash said. “But I am not without my persuasive methods.”
“We can guess your methods,” Jan said.
“Of course you can. And you probably are not frightened by them. I’ve dealt with you hero types before.” Thrash didn’t seem bothered by this.
“Even if we wanted to help you,” Hunt suggested, “it might not be possible. If the Academy really is gone because Andrew went into acting instead of flying, the uniforms we’re wearing will look pretty suspicious in our home time. Where would we get the weapons you want?”
“There are always weapons,” Thrash said. “The System Guard wouldn’t have them all.”
“We still won’t help you,” Jan said, making it sound like a threat.
“Andrew Gordon is just a kid,” Thrash said. “I’d hate to see him hurt.”
“I wouldn’t,” Garley muttered.
Thrash shook his head at that. He spoke to one of the maids, who had been standing near the door to the kitchen. “Get Stone,” he told her. She acknowledged his order and went out. A few minutes later she came back with Stone, his face the usual blank carving.
“Take these two to the game room,” Thrash ordered. “Al and Andrew are already there. Give Hunt and Jan some time to get to know Andrew better, to get to like him and maybe to feel a little protective. I want them to think about all that before I need to start the rough stuff.”
“I’ll start it for you,” Garley said.
“Shut up,” Thrash ordered, suddenly sounding tired and disgusted.
Both Hunt and Jan enjoyed Garley’s discomfort when she looked at Thrash with surprise. They marched after Stone as he escorted them back to the game room. The door was closed, but Stone opened it without knocking. Hunt and Jan entered, interrupting Andrew in the middle of a shot at the pool table.
“Hi,” Andrew said. He smiled, glad to see them again.
Stone nodded, then left, closing the door behind him.
When Stone was gone, Hunt looked around at his fellow conspirators. “I think we’d better go,” he said.