Rebel in Time

'I doubt it,' Kleiman said. 'What do we do? Send a message back through time to the police? Warn them to be on the lookout for one Wesley McCulloch wanted for murder in the next century?'

'No, that's impossible, I realize that. But you have the time machine. There must be some way it can be utilized to stop him. If only there were some way to send a posse after him, to bring him in. It wouldn't even need a posse. One man could do it. One determined man. McCulloch wouldn't be expecting it, not to be tracked down through time.'

'Agreed. But what you are talking about is too much to ask any man to do. To leave the world where he has been born, to go back in time to the past, to a more dangerous existence. And to know that this was forever, a one-way trip. No, Troy, forget it. The colonel's gone — and good riddance I say.'

'Yes, I know that he's gone from here — but I can't forget that he is still causing trouble somewhere, or somewhen, else.'

'But we have analysed that situation in great detail,' Kleiman said. 'There are no options open, no way that it can be done. I think you will find that you have posed a question that is impossible to answer. He has escaped justice in the present by fleeing through time. The best thing that you can do now is just to forget him. As far as the world is concerned he is dead and buried in the past.'

'No,' Troy said. 'I won't forget him.'

He said it firmly, without emotion. He had reached a decision, something he knew that he had been thinking about for days now at a subconscious level. The realization had finally surfaced, and with it the knowledge that the decision had already been made.

'McCulloch is not going to escape. Because I'm going after him.'

Chapter 19

Silence greeted Troy's words. Kleiman started to say something, then changed his mind. It was Roxanne Delcourt who finally spoke.

'That's quite a decision to make. Have you thought it through clearly?'

'No, not really. It's more of an emotional decision than a logical one. I've been on this case since the beginning. I've met the colonel, just once, and I didn't like him, not at all. Since then I've seen what he has done — and I'm certain that he plans worse. I have grown to loathe the man. He must be stopped. And right now, from where I stand, it looks like I'm the only one who can do it.'

'But — it's irreversible,' Kleiman said. 'You can go — but you can't come back.'

Troy nodded slowly. 'I know that. But I'm not going that far. It will still be the US of A. Only it will be a few years ago. And it will certainly be a new kind of experience! Added to this is the unarguable fact that there really isn't that much here that I am going to miss. Maybe I'm being too morbid or depressed, but, personally, things haven't been quite the same since my wife died. Going on two years now. She had been ill a long time. It wasn't very nice for her. And it hit me hard. I was ready for a section eight there for a while. But the work has helped, keeps my mind off how I feel. Helps me sleep when I'm tired. Helps with the depression. I felt suicidal for a while, but basically I'm not the suicide type. Sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you this.'

'Because we're your friends,' Roxanne said.

'Yes, I suppose you're right. It's not easy to make friends in the military, you move around a lot, particularly in the kind of work I'm involved in. With Lily, I suppose I didn't need any other friends. I have no family to speak of. I might as well follow the colonel.' He had been staring down at his clasped hands while he talked; now he looked up and smiled. 'It's no big deal. But I'm going to do it.'

'You can't!' Kleiman exploded. 'Look at what you're leaving behind. The technology, the advances in science, the things that are happening in research…'

'Bob. None of that means anything to me. I don't live your kind of life. The kind of work I do — I can do just as well in eighteen fifty-eight or nineteen fifty-eight. And what I really want to do is nail that son-of-a-bitch. Are you going to help me?'

'No! It's suicide. I won't be a part of it!' His anger slowly wilted before Troy's calm gaze; he lowered his eyes. 'All right. You talked me into it. But I still don't like it.' He smiled suddenly and clapped his hands together. 'But, by God, what an experiment into the nature of time! What we can learn! I'll do it, but you have to promise to help. We must think of a way for you to send a message to us. What do you think, Roxanne?'

'I think that we should help Troy, if he feels that this is what he must do. Out of gratitude, if nothing else, after what he did to force us to discover the true nature of our machine. But, Troy, shouldn't you take this up with your superiors?'

'No. They'll only think that I'm insane. The Army will, at least. I think I'll tell Admiral Colonne, the man I'm working for now. I have a feeling that he will understand. There's another thing, and I'm sorry to have to ask, but won't you have to make a report about this? That could get you into trouble?'

'Not really,' Roxanne said. 'I file reports, but I don't include records of every experiment. If we do this, do what you ask, don't worry about us. Though I can't help wishing that you would change your mind.'

'Thank you for the consideration. But I still feel that it has to be done.'

Now that the decision had been made, Troy wanted to be alone, to think it out. And there was really little else to be said. As soon as he could he made his excuses and left. Before returning to his apartment he drove back to Massachusetts Avenue; he wanted to get McCulloch's file. The night man admitted him and he was just putting the papers into an envelope when the admiral looked in.

'You've had over twenty-four hours to work on those records. Any conclusions yet?'

'Yes, sir. The evidence seems quite conclusive to me, but I'm not sure that you will agree with my theory.'

'I will — as long as you believe that Colonel McCulloch has travelled back in time in an attempt to change the outcome of the Civil War. Don't gape like that, man. Sit down and be comfortable. And I'll sit over here and light my pipe while you detail the steps by which you reached that conclusion.'

'But, admiral, you… well—'

'Surprised you? Why? I've seen the same reports that you have and kept my own copies of all these files. I like to keep abreast of all the operations around here. Particularly one as fascinatingly exotic as this one. At first I couldn't believe that the homicidal colonel would have had the imagination for a thing like this. But then it became obvious. His obsession with race and class, coupled with his love of the old and vanished South. The moment he discovered what the Gnomen project was about this idea must have struck him. And it helps to be mad if you have a plan like this. Insane or not, he went about putting the idea into practice in the most logical way. Buying gold, the most practical way of transporting wealth to a different era. And the Sten-gun, that was the giveaway to me. A simple and deadly weapon that can be made by anyone with a little metalworking experience. At this point we can't know what he plans to do with the guns, but we can be sure that it is nothing good. Have you reached any decision about what the next step should be?'

'Yes. I'm going after him.'

'Good. I am in full agreement. You have reached the only possible decision. Someone must run him to earth.'

'But some people might think that following him is just as insane as his decision to escape into the past.'

'Yes, but I am not some people. I am in charge of this singularly important organization. Here in QCIC we have the ultimate responsibility for the nation's security. It is obvious that we must protect that security in the present and in the future. What is not quite as obvious is that our responsibility now extends into the past as well. Colonel McCulloch shall not be permitted to threaten the existence of this nation. I can now tell you, quite frankly, how pleased I am with your decision. If you had given me any other answer I would have been forced to take you off the case and have you reassigned. Now I don't have to. I must congratulate you. Even though we have worked together for but a short time I can say, truthfully, that you are the best operative I have ever had. Probably because you think just the way I do. A very left-handed compliment.'