8

Mission to the Future

By nine o’clock Agent Hessman had his team assembled in the temporal projection chamber, unofficially known as “The Bubble.” The pods were still ringed around the center beneath the two large curved propeller arms attached to the polished metal ball. The wires overhead had been cleaned up for a more professional look, and the control booth looking down upon it all had been greatly expanded, including the moving of the bulk of the computers from the Bubble’s floor into the control booth. The general was already up in the booth, along with Dr. Weiss, while Agent Hessman was on the floor with the rest of the team.

He started his briefing while the techs went about a last check of the pods and the other equipment in the chamber.

“The team will be comprised of myself, Captain Beck, and Professor Stein,” he began, “along with two new faces. First we have Master Chief Petty Officer Marvin Duke.”

The man indicated was a well-built, clean-cut twenty-eight-year-old, around six feet two, who looked as if he could bench-press a small jeep. He replied with a quick nod and stated, “Just call me Chief Duke.”

The next one that Agent Hessman indicated looked more like a picture of a man than the real thing: dark hair trimmed short, nondescript business suit, and dark glasses, with a face that displayed about as much emotional inflection as the suit he wore.

“And this is Agent Stevens. He’s filling in for Agent Harris while she recovers.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ben stated, putting out a hand. “And what should we call you?”

The man’s reply was as terse as his appearance: “Agent Stevens.” He made no move to return Ben’s offered hand or even acknowledge that it existed.

“I see,” Ben said hesitantly.

“Agent Stevens is more of your classic spook,” Captain Beck told him. “Won’t give his first name unless ordered by the president himself, and I have my doubts that’s even his real last name.”

“I am here to do a job,” Agent Stevens stated. “I will do my best to perform as efficiently as Agent Harris would have.”

“Nothing personal,” Claire spoke up, “but you’ll never be as good as Sue.”

“Nevertheless,” Agent Hessman remarked, “he is the best available replacement that I could get on such short notice. Which brings up a pertinent question: Miss Hill, what are you doing here?”

“I’m going on the mission with the rest of you,” she announced.

Agent Stevens was dressed in his suit, Chief Duke in army fatigues, Captain Beck in a gray business suit, Ben in the relaxed trousers and long-sleeved corduroy shirt that a university professor might wear, which is to say his own clothes, and Agent Hessman in a generic collared shirt and jacket and jeans. Claire, however, was attired far sprightlier, in an ankle-length pink-and-white dress, with a ribbon-scarf around her neck and a wide-brimmed, floppy white sunhat.

“Dressed like that?” Captain Beck remarked. “That doesn’t exactly blend in, you know.”

“Oh? And how would you know?” Claire countered. “How many people in this room have been to the future?” She immediately raised her own hand, then glanced around at everyone else keeping theirs down.

“Miss Hill, you are still in the present,” Agent Hessman reminded her.

“Your present, but my future. None of us have any idea what the dress and customs might be a hundred years from now. For all we know, what I’m wearing right now could be the in style, while that business suit of Agent Stevens’s is considered gauche. We’re all in the same bucket on this one, only I have an advantage. I’ve actually had experience in adapting to new futuristic circumstances, new ways and customs. Anybody here also have that same experience?”

“She does have a point, Agent Hessman,” Agent Stevens emotionlessly replied.

“Thank you, Fred,” Claire said.

“The name’s Agent Stevens, ma’am.”

“Well, I’d like to call you by your first name, but since you won’t give it, I’ve decided on Fred. Unless you would like to give us your first name to use?”

Agent Stevens said nothing.

“Fred it is.” Claire triumphantly grinned.

Ben found himself suppressing a snicker, while Claire continued arguing her case.

“Besides, as a reporter, how can I pass up this opportunity? I’m also better trained at observing things and recording them for you.”

“Another point in her favor, Lou,” Captain Beck stated.

“Very well, Miss Hill,” Agent Hessman said after a moment, “you can be a part of the team. Now, you’ve each been armed with a stun gun, some chloroform, and some English and American money in the off chance that they might still be using cash in the future. Also, your recall beacons, of course. Miss Hill, I shall have to requisition some equipment for you.”

“Already done,” she said with a bright grin. “I spoke with General Karlson earlier and got his approval using the same argument.”

“Then why didn’t you simply—”

“The general said I had to get your approval also, but since I knew that I probably would, I got equipped at the same time as Ben. Not too sure about those stun-gun things, though, but I’m ready to go.”

“Well, then,” Captain Beck remarked, “may I say that you do a good job of hiding everything? Because I can’t see any sign of a single pistol bulge on you.”

She shrugged. “A lady knows how to keep things under her hat. Now, are we ready?”

Agent Hessman let out a sigh, then looked toward Ben and said, “I do not envy you your coming married life with this woman, Professor.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed, “let’s hope I can keep up.”

Captain Beck gave a light chuckle; Chief Duke, a level look; and from Agent Stevens, no sign that he felt anything.

“To continue,” Agent Hessman said, picking up where they had left off, “the mission parameters are as follows: First and top priority is to bring back Samantha Weiss, alive and intact. Second is to find out why anyone from the future would want to kidnap her in the first place. Was it really the Russians? And if so, why are they apparently using a time machine in England? Then lastly, we are to observe and record this future, and if opportunity presents itself, bring back some samples.”

“I’m not sure if that will be either possible or wise,” Ben cautioned. “We may be disrupting our own timeline and what is to happen, or we may change our world, by just bringing something back with us.”

“These people already violated that rule by kidnapping Samantha,” Agent Hessman replied. “If they’re trying to affect something in their past, then we can take advantage of a visit to our future. And if it turns out that, by some cosmic law, it’s not possible to bring any technology back, then we’ll find that out along the way. Until then, we have a duty before us. Now, are there any other questions?”

There were none save one from Agent Stevens.

“Just one: What are the orders regarding killing? They may be restricted from killing anyone from their own past, but we have no such limitation.”

“That’s a horrible question!” Claire exclaimed. “Why would we ever need to kill anyone?”

“It’s a very apt question, Miss Hill, and I’m glad that Agent Stevens brought it up. We are here on a rescue mission, to find and retrieve one of our own through any means available. Our mission is not to kill. But if the need is absolutely necessary and there is no other way . . . then consider it a last resort.”

“Understood,” Agent Stevens stated.

“Now, one more thing.”

From a pocket Agent Hessman drew out what looked like some sort of palm-sized computer with a small screen built in, and held it so they could all see it.

“This has been programmed to respond to Samantha’s locator chip. However, it may not have the same range as it does here in our time.”

“I thought those things could be detected anyplace on the planet,” Ben said.

“With the help of some satellites,” Agent Hessman responded. “Satellites which may or may not still exist or be in fully working order a century from now. Worst case, expect a range of between a quarter and a half mile.”

He put the device back into his pocket, then turned away toward the raised circle of ready pods.

“Time to get into our pods, people. Just remember to be adaptable. There’s no telling what sort of situation we’ll find ourselves landing into.”

“Probably in the middle of some highway,” Ben remarked.

“Nah, the cars’ll be flying,” Captain Beck told him.

“According to what I remember hearing as a boy, they were supposed to be flying now,” Ben countered. “I’m still betting on highways.”

As each member of the team was led to a pod and strapped in by one of the technicians, a voice came over the room’s speakers. Not General Karlson as one might expect, but Dr. Weiss.

“Please,” he began, “bring back my niece. Whatever it takes.”

“We will do our best, Dr. Weiss,” Agent Hessman called out from within his pod.

Once everyone was strapped in and their pods sealed, the technicians cleared the pod platform, and everyone waited on the one person with the authority to make it all go. General Karlson took a last look at the chamber below, then at the men in their stations within his command booth, and seeing nothing in the way of red flags, he gave the word.

“Send them forward!”

Once again power surged through the mass of wiring down through the thick cabling to each of the pods to surround them with a brightening glow. High overhead the large twin propellers started to revolve, slowly at first, then picking up speed. As they did so a growing number of electrical sparks leapt between the blades and the mass of coiled wires above them. Faster and faster the blades spun, until they were a blur and the sparks filled the entire domed ceiling with a bright electrical haze. Soon nothing of the blades and wires could be seen, the domed ceiling now resembling a small star as the entire chamber resonated with power.

Then at the center of that star a dark eye opened, and from that black pupil the energy of Creation shot down the thick cables to the pods beneath, filling them each with a white glow.

“Just bring her back,” Professor Weiss prayed from his spot in the control booth. “Please, bring her back.”