The third and final team would also be heading back to Blue Lake, getting there just as the Dutchman was about to be killed. The hope was to figure out who the traitors in their midst were.
“I’d like to be leading that team,” Mark had said, then sighed, “but I’m the most trained for the moon so that’s what it’ll be.”
“We’ll find the bastards that are responsible for your father, don’t worry,” Walter had said, and no one had argued with that. Still, if anyone was going to find out who had killed the Dutchman, it’d most likely be his son. That’d be awfully hard to do when he was 239,000 miles away, though.
The six men continued down those smooth tunnels and finally came to the place they’d been seeking — the base’s time shed.
“There it is,” Mark says, pointing at the nondescript door on the otherwise nondescript tunnel wall. It said “storage room” and that was it.
“It’ll go faster if we’re not all inside, blocking the magnetic resonances,” Stu says as they stop in front of it.
“You’re up first,” Bennewitz says, a bit of impatience in his voice. “Then it’s you, Bobbie.”
“You ready?” Walter asks, looking to Stu.
Stu lets out a whistle. “Hope so, but I gotta say… it’ll sure be weird heading back to Blue Lake just shortly after the mission debriefing.” He chuckles. “I hope my better half is up to it.”
“He better be,” Mark says. “You know the Soul Catcher is the first stage of the plan, and which everything else depends on.”
“I’m up to it,” Stu says as he looks down at the floor. He takes in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, then looks back at Mark. “I just hope Tommy is.”
“He was trained for it,” Walter says, “and he knew what he signed-up for.”
“Yeah, but in the training he was never…”
“Dead?” Bobbie says, then looks to the others. “Because Tommy is dead, ya’ll know that, right?”
“Hell, Bobbie,” Turn says with a laugh, “if time isn’t a boundary for these guys then I don’t think death will be either.”
Mark chuckles at that and claps Turn on the shoulder. “If you only knew the half of it.”
“What, is there another one of those flash sticks I missed out on?”
Everyone has a good laugh to that, and then when things quiet down the attention goes back to Stu.
“Well, this is it,” he says. “We’ve trained for this for some time.”
“And we’re ready,” Mark says, then, “And one more thing, Stu… remember to tell someone what time Aaron gets back from that Gray mothership he fled to.”
Stu nods. “Will do. Now… good luck, everyone.”
“Good luck, Stu,” they all say, and with that the astronaut opens the door and heads inside.
Part VI
32 — Past and Future
Colonel Stu Roosevelt, the commander of the Material Acquisitions Team that’d destroyed Dulce Base with his CED device — or at least everything living inside of the base — walks down one of the Blue Lake hallways. The post-mission debriefing that Ellis just gave is on his mind, though not as much as getting some sleep is. He rounds another corner and there’s his room’s hallway. He moves past a few doors until he gets to one marked “107,” takes out his keys, unlocks it, and steps inside. He swipes his hand against the wall where the light switch is, illuminating the small quarters. He’s so caught-up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that the rocking chair next to the bed is occupied. As he moves to the desk on the other side of the room, however, he’s made aware of it.
“Ahem,” comes a clearing of the throat.
Stu stops dead in his tracks and for the first time looks up and over. There, sitting in the old wooden rocking chair, is… himself.
“Stu, I’ve got to tell you something and I’ve got to tell it to you fast,” the man that looks just like him says to Stu.
“What… who…” Stu manages, but the man looking just like him puts his hand up and starts talking once again.
“We’ve started Trifecta.”
That sobers Stu up right away, and all thoughts of who this man is or what he’s doing here go from his mind. His years of training take over.
“When?”
“A few hours from now, though with the way the time sheds work it’s a little tricky to keep track.”
“Right,” Stu says, knowing exactly what his counterpart — who he now knows is his future self — is talking about. “When do I start?”
“You don’t. I do.”
“What? That was never part of the plan! How are we—”
“Plans change. You’ll find that out real quick in another…” the counterpart glances down at his watch, “…two and a half hours.” He looks back up at Stu. “Now, what I need you to do is carry on as normal, go about your business, and then when the shit hits the fan — and you’ll know when it does — you hightail it to the nearest safe spot and hold up. Then, come 1538 hours, you get your ass to the basement and the teleporter there. You’re going to Montana.”
Stu takes it all in and then a few moments after his counterpart stops talking he sits down on the bed. After a couple more moments he looks up.
“How bad is it?” he asks.
“It’s bad, but not unwinnable.”
Stu shrugs. “Then I guess I’ll do my best.”
The future Stu rises up and claps his past self on the shoulder. “I know you will, and remember… I’m counting on you.”
Stu scoffs to that. Hell, I wrote the book on the physics of time travel… I should know! He says nothing, however, and a few moments later his future self is up and heading out the door. Stu watches him go, and gives a silent prayer for his safety.
33 — Soul Catcher
Corporal Tommy Wynn’s body hits the cold steel slab.
“Damn it,” Donlon nearly shouts, “take it easy, will ya!”
“Relax,” Stu says, looking as calm and cool and collected as ever. He’d been happy with how the conversation with his past self went, and he’d found Donlon shortly thereafter, explaining it all to him. After that they’d caught-up with the guards escorting the Dulce Base dead. Major Fred Sayer had been with them, and knowing he could trust the young soldier, Stu allowed him to tag along to the secluded hospital wing of the base. They’d need all the help they could get in this time, he knew.
“What do you mean, ‘relax,’ doc?” Donlon says as he put his hands on his hips and sticks out his chest. The military brass on his lapel glares out at Stu. “We just got wiped out back there and Tommy here’s dead — how the hell do you expect me to relax?”
“He’s not dead,” Stu says.
“Not… not… not dead?” Fred says. “What the hell do ya mean, he’s not dead! He’s got a Goddamn piece of vat glass the size of my fist stickin’ out the side of his head, for Chrissakes!”
Stu ignores Fred’s words, not even looking up at the soldier or the stone-jawed colonel, who stands there gritting his teeth and seething. Instead the astronaut walks up to the young Vietnam vet’s body and puts his fingers near the throat, the temples, and then the eyes. He kneels down and listens at the heart, prods the stomach. Finally he looks back at Donlon. “We’ve got about thirty seconds to flat line him the way we want.”