“You said it yourself,” Jenkins said. “You’re extras. If you try to aim a shuttle at a black hole, you know what will happen? The gravitational forces will rip apart the shuttle, you’ll spaghettify into a long stream of atoms sucking down to the singularity, and you’ll die. You’ll be dead long before the spaghettification, of course. That’s the end event for you. But you get my point.”
“And that won’t happen if we have one of the main characters in the show,” Dahl said.
“No, because the Narrative needs them for later,” Jenkins said. “So in that case when you zoom toward a black hole you’ll switch over to Narrative physics.”
“And we’re sure main characters never die,” Hester said.
“Oh, they can die,” Jenkins said, and Hester gave him another look like he wanted to punch him. “But not like this. When a main character dies they’d make a big deal out of it. The idea that the Narrative would let one of them die on a mission to go back in time to stop their own show from being made just doesn’t seem very likely in the grand scheme of things.”
“It’s nice at least something is unlikely at this point,” Hester said.
“So, to recap,” Dahl said. “Kidnap a senior officer, steal a shuttle, fly dangerously close to a black hole, go back in time, find the people making the show, stop them from making it anymore, and then come back to our own time before our atoms divorce us and we disintegrate.”
“That’s what I’ve got for you, yes,” Jenkins said.
“It’s a little crazy,” Dahl said.
“I told you that going in,” Jenkins reminded him.
“And you didn’t disappoint,” Dahl said.
“So what do we do now?” Duvall asked.
“I think we have to work the problem a step at a time,” Dahl said. “And the first step is: How do we get that shuttle?”
Dahl’s phone rang. It was Science Officer Q’eeng, ordering him to the senior officer briefing room.
* * *
“The religious war on Forshan is heating up,” Q’eeng said, with Captain Abernathy nodding beside him. “The Universal Union is trying to negotiate a cease-fire, but we’re limited by a lack of live translators. Our diplomatic team has computer translators, of course, but they only translate the first dialect with any accuracy and even then it lacks the ability to handle idiom. We run the risk of unintentionally offending the Forshan at the worst possible time.”
“Q’eeng here tells me you speak all four dialects,” Abernathy said.
“That’s correct, sir,” Dahl said.
“Then there’s no time to lose,” Abernathy said. “We need you to go to Forshan immediately and start acting as a translator for our diplomats.”
“Yes, sir,” Dahl said, and felt a chill. It’s come for me, he thought. The Narrative has finally come for me. Just as we figured out how to stop it. “How long until the Intrepid reaches Forshan?” he asked.
“The Intrepid isn’t,” Q’eeng said. “We have a mission to the Ames system which can’t be put off. You’ll have to go yourself.”
“How?” Dahl asked.
“You’ll be taking a shuttle,” Q’eeng said.
Dahl burst out laughing.
“Ensign Dahl, are you all right?” Q’eeng asked, after a moment.
“Sorry, sir,” Dahl said. “I was embarrassed that I asked such an obvious question. When do I leave?”
“As soon as we assign a shuttle pilot for you,” Abernathy said.
“If I may beg the captain’s indulgence, I would like to select my own pilot,” Dahl said. “In fact, it might be best if I selected my own team for this mission.”
Abernathy and Q’eeng both frowned. “I’m not sure you need an entire away team for this mission,” Q’eeng said.
“Respectfully, sir, I do,” Dahl said. “As you note, this is a critical mission. I am one of the few humans who can speak all four Forshan dialects, so I expect I will be used exhaustively by our diplomats. I will need my own team for errands and to send communiqués between diplomatic teams. I’ll also need to retain the pilot and shuttle in case I am called to travel on Forshan itself, between those diplomatic teams.”
“How large of a team do you need?” Q’eeng asked.
Dahl paused and looked up, as if thinking. “A pilot and two aides should probably do it,” he said.
Q’eeng looked at Abernathy, who nodded. “Fine,” Q’eeng said. “But ensign rank and below only.”
“I have just the people in mind,” Dahl said. “Although I wonder if it might be useful to have a senior officer on the team as well.”
“Such as?” Abernathy asked.
“Lieutenant Kerensky,” Dahl said.
“I’m not sure how an astrogator would be of much use on this mission, Ensign,” Q’eeng said. “We do try to have away team members have relevant skills.”
Dahl paused ever so slightly at this but then moved on. “Then perhaps you, sir,” he said to Q’eeng. “You have some familiarity with the Forshan language, after all.”
“I know what this is about,” Abernathy said.
Dahl blinked. “Sir?” he said.
“I know what this is about,” Abernathy repeated. “You were with me on the Nantes, Dill.”
“Dahl,” said Dahl.
“Dahl,” Abernathy said. “You were there when your friend was killed when that madman tried to assassinate me. You saw firsthand the risks of an away team. Now you’re being asked to lead an away team and you’re worried about the responsibility, you’re worried about someone dying on your watch.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not that,” Dahl said.
“I’m telling you not to worry about that,” Abernathy said, not hearing Dahl. “You’re an officer, Dill. Dahl. Sorry. You’re an officer and you’ve been trained to lead. You don’t need me or Q’eeng or Kerensky to tell you what you already know. Just do it. I believe in you, damn it.”
“You’re very inspiring, sir,” Dahl said, after a moment.
“I see good things for you, Ensign,” Abernathy said. “It wouldn’t surprise me one day to have you as one of my senior staff.”
“I should live so long,” Dahl said.
“So,” Abernathy said. “Assemble your team, brief them and have them ready to go in four hours. Think you can handle that?”
“I do, sir,” Dahl said. “Thank you, sir.” He stood and saluted. Abernathy returned the salute. Dahl nodded to Q’eeng and then left as quickly as he could, and then called Hester as soon as he was ten steps away from the briefing room.
“So what happened?” Hester asked.
“Our schedule just got drastically tightened,” Dahl said. “Listen, do you still have Finn’s effects?”
“Are you talking about the same effects I think you’re talking about?” Hester asked, carefully.
“Yeah,” Dahl said.
“Then yes,” Hester said. “It would have been awkward to hand them over.”
“Find a small blue oblong effect,” Dahl said. “And then meet me at Maia’s barracks. As quickly as you can.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Three hours and thirty minutes later, Dahl knocked on the door of Lieutenant Kerensky’s private berth. Hester and Hanson were behind him, storage crate and cargo cart in tow.
The berth door slid open and Duvall was inside. “For God’s sake, get in here,” she said.
Dahl looked into the berth. “We’re not all going to fit in there,” he said.
“Then you get in here,” she said. “And bring the crate.” She looked at Hester and Hanson. “You two try to look like you’re not doing something that will get us shot.”
“Swell,” Hester said. Dahl pushed the storage crate into the berth, followed it and then closed the door behind him.
Inside was Lieutenant Kerensky, pantless and passed out.
“You couldn’t put his pants back on him?” Dahl asked.
“Andy, the next time you want to drug into unconsciousness the person you’re screwi
ng, you can do it the way you want to,” Duvall said. “Which reminds me to reiterate that this is definitely a ‘you owe me a fuck’ level of favor.”
“That’s ironic, considering,” Dahl said, nodding in the direction of Kerensky.
“Very funny,” Duvall said.
“How long has he been out?” Dahl asked.
“Not even five minutes,” Duvall said. “It was completely unbelievable. I tried to get him to have a drink with me first—I put that little pill in his tumbler—but he just wanted to get at it. I could tell you what I had to do to get him to take a drink, but that’s more about me than I think you want to know.”
“I’m trying to imagine what that could even mean and I have to tell you I’m drawing a blank,” Dahl said.
“It’s better that way,” Duvall said. “Anyway. He’s out now and if I’m any indication of how effective these little pills are, he’ll be down for several hours at least.”
“Good,” Dahl said. “Let’s get to work.” Duvall nodded and stripped Kerensky’s bunk, lining the bottom of the crate with the sheets and blanket.
“Will he have enough air?” she asked.
“It’s not airtight,” Dahl said. “But maybe you should put his pants back on him now.”
“Not yet,” Duvall said.
“I’m not sure where this is leading,” Dahl said.
“Shut up and let’s get him into this thing,” Duvall said.
Five minutes later, Dahl and Duvall had contorted Kerensky into the storage crate. Duvall took Kerensky’s pants and jacket and stuffed them into a duffel bag.
“Where’s his phone?” Dahl asked. Duvall grabbed it off Kerensky’s desk and tossed it to Dahl, who opened up the text messaging function, typed a note and sent it. “There,” he said. “Kerensky just sent a note that he is on sick leave for his next shift. It’ll be twelve hours at least before anyone comes looking for him.”
“Poor bastard,” Duvall said, looking at the crate. “I do feel bad about this. He’s dim and self-centered, but he’s not really a bad guy. And he’s decent enough in the cot.”
“Don’t need to know,” Dahl said.
“Prude,” Duvall said.
“You can make it up to him later,” Dahl said, and opened the door, on the other side of which stood Hester.
“Thought you guys had started up a game of Parcheesi in there,” he said.
“Don’t you start,” Duvall said. “Let’s get him up on that cart.”
A few minutes later, the four of them and their unconscious cargo were at the door of the shuttle bay.
“Get the shuttle ready,” Dahl said to Hester, then turned to Hanson and Duvall. “And get the cargo into the shuttle as quietly as possible, please.”
“Look who’s all authoritative now,” Duvall said.
“For now let’s just pretend you actually respect my authority,” Dahl said.
“Where are you going?” Hanson asked.
“I have one more quick stop to make,” Dahl said. “Have to pick up some extra supplies.” Hanson nodded and backed the cargo cart into the shuttle bay, Duvall and Hester following. Dahl walked until he found a quiet cargo tunnel and quietly opened the access door to it.
Jenkins was on the other side.
“You know that’s creepy,” Dahl said.
“I’m trying not to waste your time,” Jenkins said. He held up a briefcase. “The leftovers from that mission Abernathy, Q’eeng and Hartnell went on,” he said. “Phones and money. The phones will work with that era’s communication and information networks. Those networks will be slow and rudimentary. Be patient with them. The money is physical money, which they still use where you’re going.”
“Will they be able to tell it’s not real?” Dahl asked.
“They couldn’t last time,” Jenkins said.
“How much is in there?” Dahl asked.
“About ninety-three thousand dollars,” Jenkins said.
“Is that a lot?” Dahl asked.
“It’ll be enough to get you through six days,” Jenkins said. Dahl took the suitcase and turned to go.
“One other thing,” Jenkins said, and then handed him a small box.
Dahl took it. “You really want me to do this,” he said.
“I’m not going with you,” Jenkins said. “So you have to do it for me.”
“I may not have time,” Dahl said.
“I know,” Jenkins said. “If you have time.”
“And it won’t last,” Dahl said. “You know it won’t.”
“It doesn’t have to last,” Jenkins said. “It just has to last long enough.”
“All right,” Dahl said.
“Thanks,” Jenkins said. “And now I think you better get off the ship as soon as you can. Leaving that note from Kerensky was smart, but don’t tempt fate any more than you have to. You’re already tempting it enough.”
* * *
“You can’t do this to me,” Kerensky said, in a muffled fashion, from inside the crate. He had woken up five minutes earlier, after sleeping more than ten hours. Hester had been taunting him since.
“That’s a funny thing to say,” Hester said, “considering where you are.”
“Let me out,” Kerensky said. “That’s an order.”
“You keep saying funny things,” Hester said. “From inside a crate. Which you can’t escape from.”
There was a moment of silence at that.
“Where are my pants?” Kerensky asked, plaintively.
Hester glanced over at Duvall. “I’m going to let you field that one,” he said. Duvall rolled her eyes.
“I really have to pee,” Kerensky said. “Really bad.”
Duvall sighed. “Anatoly,” she said. “It’s me.”
“Maia?” Kerensky said. “They got you too. Don’t worry. I won’t let these bastards do anything to you. Do you hear me, you sons of bitches?”
Hester looked over to Dahl disbelievingly. Dahl shrugged.
“Anatoly,” Maia said, more forcefully. “They didn’t get me too.”
“What?” Kerensky said. Then, after a minute, “Oh.”
“‘Oh,’” Duvall agreed. “Now, listen, Anatoly. I’m going to open up the crate and you can come out, but I really need you not to be stupid or to panic. Do you think you can do that?”
There was a pause. “Yes,” Kerensky said.
“Anatoly, that little pause you just did suggests to me that what you’re really planning to do is something stupid as soon as we uncrate you,” Duvall said. “So just to be sure, two of my friends here have pulse guns trained on you. If you do anything particularly idiotic, they’ll just blast you. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Kerensky said, sounding somewhat more resigned.
“Okay,” Duvall said. She walked over to the crate.
“‘Pulse guns’?” Dahl asked. No one had pulse guns with them. It was Duvall’s turn to shrug.
“You know he’s lying,” Hester said.
“That’s why I have his pants,” Duvall said, and started unlatching the hinges.
Kerensky burst out of the crate, rolled, spied the door and sprinted toward it, flinging it open and throwing himself through it. Everyone else in the room watched him go.
“What do we do now?” Hanson asked.
“Window,” Dahl said. They stood up and walked toward the window, cranking the louvers so they were open to the outside.
“This should be good,” Hester said.
Thirty seconds later Kerensky burst into view, running into the street, whereupon he stopped, utterly confused. A car honked at him to get out of the way. He backed up onto the sidewalk.
“Anatoly, come back in,” Duvall said through the window. “For God’s sake, you’re not wearing pants.”
Kerensky turned around, following her voice. “This isn’t a ship,” he yelled up to the window.
“No, it’s the Best Western Media Center Inn and Suites,” Duvall said. “In Burbank.”
“Is that a plane
t?” Kerensky yelled. “What system is it in?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Hester muttered. “You’re on Earth, you moron,” he yelled at Kerensky.
Kerensky looked around disbelievingly. “Was there an apocalypse?” he yelled.
Hester looked at Duvall. “You actually have sex with this imbecile?”
“Look, he’s had a rough day,” Duvall said, and then turned her attention to Kerensky. “We went back in time, Anatoly,” she said. “It’s the year 2012. This is what it looks like. Now come back inside.”
“You drugged me and kidnapped me,” Kerensky said, accusingly.
“I know, and I’m really sorry about that,” Duvall said. “I was kind of in a rush. But listen, you have to come back inside. You’re half-naked. Even in 2012, you can get arrested for that. You don’t want to get arrested in 2012, Anatoly. It’s not a nice time to be in jail. Come back inside, okay? We’re in room 215. Just take the stairs.”
Kerensky looked around, looked down at his pantless lower half, and then sprinted back into the Best Western.
“I’m not rooming with him,” Hester said. “I just want to be clear on that.”
A minute later there was a knock on the door. Hanson went to open it. Kerensky strode into the room.
“First, I want my pants,” Kerensky said.
Everyone turned to Duvall, who gave everyone a what? expression and then pulled Kerensky’s pants out of her duffel and threw them at him.
“Second,” Kerensky said, fumbling into his pants, “I want to know why we’re here.”
“We’re here because we landed and hid the shuttle in Griffith Park, and this was the closest hotel,” Hester said. “And it was a good thing it was so close, because your crated ass was not light.”
“I don’t mean the hotel,” Kerensky spat. “I mean here. On Earth. In 2012. In Burbank. Someone needs to explain this to me now.”
This time everyone turned to Dahl.
“Oh,” he said. “Well, it’s complicated.”
* * *
“Eat something, Kerensky,” Duvall said, pushing the remains of the pizza at him. They were in a booth at the Numero Uno Pizza down the street from the Best Western. Kerensky was now wearing pants.
Kerensky barely glanced at the pizza. “I’m not sure it’s safe,” he said.