All the Colors of Time (5 page)

Oslovski’s eyes were still on Caldwell as he turned to stare
at her.

“That . . . that was the assassination
attempt on—”

“Yes. The date you gave me was the opening day of the First
World Congress. But, of course, you knew that. We just happened to get this
rather spectacular footage of the attempt on President Gorbachev’s life. That
was the event you were targeting, was it not?”

Caldwell glanced at his clam-faced peers and nodded once.
The corner of his mouth twitched.

“Forgive my curiosity, General,” said Oslovski, “but what do
you intend to accomplish?”

“The righting of a wrong, doctor,” he said. “That’s all you
need to know. And that our work—our very lives—are dedicated to the best
interests and the honor of this great nation.”

“And the well-being of its people?”

He smiled. “Of course, doctor. The two things are
inseparable.”

“And what about the welfare of the world as a global
society?”

“The world is not a global society, doctor. It’s a mish-mosh
of societies and cultures. My concern—
our
concern is with the strength of the American nation. The other nations only
concern us insofar as they are either beneficial or dangerous to U.S.
interests.”

“I see.” Oslovski nodded. “May I guess what you hope to
accomplish?”

“You may guess all you want. We will neither confirm nor
deny.”

She nodded again. “Naturally. Two possibilities present
themselves. One is that you wish to make sure the assassin isn’t, himself, assassinated
so you can find out who hired him.”

General Caldwell’s smile didn’t falter. “A reasonable
assumption, I suppose,” he said.

“The other possibility is that you intend to make certain he
succeeds.”

None of the faces at the nether end of the table altered
expression, but there was an eloquent flurry of exchanged glances.

Caldwell merely quirked an eyebrow. “What an interesting
mind you have, Dr. Oslovski. I’m glad you’re not working for the other side.”

Oslovski smiled as if accepting that as a compliment. “What
other side, General?”

“You do realize, of course,” Caldwell said, ignoring the
question, “that you are contractually and ethically bound to bring this Project
to a successful conclusion regardless of what we intend to do. So, you see, our
intent is really irrelevant.”

“Of course.”

“And, of course, as scientists, you must observe a sort of
code of nonintervention.”

That was more order than commentary and Oslovski bristled.
If one more person cited the Scientific Code of NonIntervention, or preached
objectivity at her, she vowed she’d send them back to the eruption of Krakatoa.

“So, we’ve seen that you can send a robot back to the target
time and place. What else have you got for us?”

She showed them the bio-data on Q-Bert and Louis which included
Louis’s recorded account of his experience. She took them to the O.R. next,
explaining the function of each station.

“How soon?” asked Caldwell when they’d concluded the short
tour and examined Toto and the Field Generator. “How soon can our operatives
begin making time jumps?”

“We can make them part of a demonstration right now, if you’d
like.”

The Chiefs were more than eager to see a Temporal Shift in
action. They watched as each operative was sent to places and times that were
easily verifiable. Both men handled the experience as if they were veteran time
travelers and consumed healthy amounts of lunch immediately after.

oOo

“They’re
ice
men,” said Shiro.

Oslovski’s Team was reconnoitering in the O.R. after their
own hasty lunch, while their clients privately debriefed.

“You’d think they were just taking a drive around the block.”

“Conditioning,” said Trevor. “Mental conditioning.”

“Mm-hm. And we have to get around it somehow.”

Oslovski blew steam from her coffee cup and grimaced. “This
is where we try a little psychology. They’ve been wondering all morning why the
Team shrink’s been included in. They’re about to find out.”

oOo

They rejoined the Joint Chiefs in the Level 3 conference
room for a final meeting to discuss any questions generated during the day and
to set a timetable for the next Phase of the Project. Could delicate equipment
go through the Spectrum, the Chiefs wanted to know. Could weapons?

Toto
was
delicate
equipment, Trevor told them, the video rig and medical array, likewise. “For that
matter,” he added, “a human being is delicate equipment. As for weapons . . .”
He wanted to claim some magical Omniscient Guardian of the Time Spectrum caused
all weapons to disintegrate on transit, but couldn’t. “There’s no reason why
they shouldn’t be fine.”

“I’m satisfied,” said General Caldwell when the
question-and-answer session had wound down into nodding and note taking.

Oslovski raised her eyebrows. “General, you’re overlooking a
very important factor in all of this.”

“Oh? And what might that be, doctor?”

“I think Dr. Keller is more qualified than I am to speak to
that subject. Doctor, would you answer the General’s question?”

Vance nodded, tapping a pen lightly on the tabletop. “The
psychological ramifications of time travel are quite complex.”

“For example?”

“Well, General, you’re undertaking to change history. Have
you considered how many events might hinge on the one you propose to change?”

“It has been considered.”

“Then you are all prepared to face the changes in your
personal lives that may result from your . . .” He’d been going
to say “meddling,” but smiled and finished, “editing of history?”

“We’re counting on it,” said Caldwell, and the others
nodded.

Dr. Keller spread his hands, palms up, on the table. “I just
wanted to be sure you were properly prepared. It could be quite a shock for
your operatives to return and discover they’ve edited a loved one out of
existence.”

“What?”

They were all staring at him as if he’d just said “there’s a
bomb under this table.” Oslovski fought the urge to grin.

“Gentlemen,” she said, “you must be prepared for any
eventuality. You
yourselves
could be ‘edited’
out of existence by a change in history.”

“My God, how can anyone be prepared for that?” The reserved,
soft-spoken Naval Admiral Krenshaw was visibly stunned.

Vance Keller nodded sympathetically. “I know it’s a
terrifying prospect—to suddenly find your entire life rewritten—wives married
to someone else, children never born.

And, of course, the potential for guilt could be immense—the
realization that you did it to yourselves.”

Caldwell looked like he’d just swallowed a sour pill.

“And then,” added Oslovski, “there is the possibility that
your operatives could be stranded in the past.”

“I thought you said the technology was reliable,” said
Caldwell sharply.

“Oh, it is. But it’s entirely possible that with a change in
history, the technology might never be developed.”

“That’s damn pretzel logic! If the technology is never
developed then how could anyone go back in time to-to get trapped?”

“The technology is reliable,” said Oslovski. “But the
concepts behind it are sometimes dimly understood.”

Caldwell’s jaw was ticking. “Just how do you propose we
prepare for these eventualities?”

Oslovski met his chilly gaze with an equal amount of frost. “That’s
what we have a psychologist on staff for, General. I would recommend that your
operatives spend some time with him during their orientation.”

“Orientation?”

“We’ll need to do a complete medical work-up on anyone who’s
going to be sent that far back through the Spectrum and stay for any length of
time,” said Trevor. “We have to know the normal physiology so any abnormalities
can be spotted.”

Caldwell nodded, once. “When do you want them?”

“Right now. Barring unforeseen difficulties,” said Oslovski,
“we can be ready to send one of your men back to the target in a week, maybe
two.”

Caldwell frowned, puckering his mouth. “You’re sure the
field can’t be expanded to take both men through at once?”

“That could lead to a dangerous instability in the Field. We
might attempt to send two subjects through in single file, as it were. But
until we’ve successfully retrieved two nonhuman subjects, we can’t try a double
passage with your men.”

Caldwell looked like he wanted to say something else, but
didn’t. He took his Joint Chiefs and departed for Washington D.C., leaving
Ferris and Hilyard in the capable hands of Oslovski and Keller.

oOo

Vance began “preventive therapy” sessions with his two
subjects almost immediately. They discussed the ramifications of editing
history in great detail. He encouraged them to talk about their fears. Then he
worked hard at exploiting them—something that rubbed completely against his
grain.

“Dammit, Mags, I can’t help but feel like a traitor to my
calling. I’m supposed to help people
overcome
their fears and anxieties, not feed them.” Vance ran a hand roughly through his
curly, black hair and grimaced.

“Sometimes fear is healthy, Vance. You know that. It keeps
us from doing stupid, dangerous things like screw with history. People
should
be afraid to do that shouldn’t
they? Shouldn’t they be afraid or ashamed to commit murder?”

He looked up at her out of the corner of his eye. “Okay,
when you put it like that, it sounds almost noble. I guess I just need to be
sure that it really is. That we’re not just rationalizing. Because using
psychology that way rubs me raw.”

Magda folded her arms across her chest and studied his face.
“Is it that bad? Do you want to opt out?”

He threw up his hands in exasperation. “No, it’s
not
that bad, dammit, but this little
voice in my head keeps telling me it
should
be. Frankly, knowing what I know, it’s hard to be objective. Hell, it’s
impossible
to be objective. Hilyard
gives me the creeps and Ferris has the most advanced case of tunnel vision I’ve
ever seen when it comes to the activities of the military. To hear him talk,
you’d think the Joint Chiefs should be canonized—or at least knighted. And
Hilyard—” He shook his head. “I got him talking about war and how he felt about
it. He said he thought dropping the bomb on Hiroshima was beneficial.”

Magda shrugged. “A lot of people feel we wouldn’t have
achieved peace without having stood face to face with that horror first. You
have to admit, it made the whole world stop in its tracks and realize war was a
no-op.”

“He meant it was beneficial because it let the other nations
know who was boss. It established the U.S. as a Super Power—’separated the men
from the boys,’ as he put it.”

“Oh … so, how are they doing with the program?”

Vance’s dark face brightened a little. “Pretty well,
actually. Hilyard is just oozing with half-healed post-adolescent wounds and a
lot of resentment against his superiors. He doesn’t like feeling expendable,
and he fears that’s just what he is. Ferris is just a conscientious G.I. trying
to do what he feels is his patriotic duty.”

“Assassination?”

Vance shrugged. “I’ve had them both under hypnosis. Ferris
seems to take to post-hypnotic suggestion just fine, but Hilyard’s a little
resistant. Oh, there’s one thing I might be able to use against him, though.”
He made a face. “Dear God, did I just say that?”

Magda threw a paper clip at him. “Snap out of it, Doc.”

“Anyway, he expressed belief in reincarnation and past life
regression. I think there are some possibilities in that direction.”

Magda nodded, looking thoughtful. “Vance, what’s your
assessment of the mental and emotional health of these two men?”

“That’s a tough one. Judging from what they’re planning to
do . . .” He shook his head. “I’d say we were looking at two
pretty sick little puppies. Oh, mentally, I’d have to give them a clean bill of
health—based solely on the standard-issue tests. But faced with this . . .
mission of theirs, they’ve got to be buying their day-to-day sanity at the
expense of their emotional stability.”

Magda got up and moved to face him, locking her fingers at
the back of his neck. “While you’re busy feeling guilty about brainwashing them
so they don’t have to go through with their mission, ask yourself what would
happen to them, mentally and emotionally, if they
did
go through with it. Hilyard is right, Vance. As far as Caldwell
is concerned, they
are
expendable.”

oOo

During the week and a half prior to their Time Shift,
Hilyard and Ferris each established their own unique behavior patterns. Colonel
Ferris spent most of his free time alone or, almost perversely, it seemed, in
Vance Keller’s company. He rarely interacted with any of the other team
members. Hilyard, on the other hand, elected to shadow different members of
Oslovki’s Team, insatiably asking questions about the Temporal Spectrum and its
attendant technology.

“It’s almost as if he doesn’t believe it,” said Trevor, “and
he’s asking all these questions trying to catch us out.”

Shiro nodded. “I know just what you mean. You know, he
actually seems to understand what we tell him. It’s eerie. I feel like he’s
watching us all the time. Listening to everything we say and taking notes.”

“He is taking notes,” averred Louis. “Every time I turn
around, he’s talking to that handcomp. I’d
love
to get my hands on that thing to hear what he’s been saying about us behind our
backs.”

“Let’s get serious, folks,” said Oslovski from the head of
the table. “He’s very likely keeping reports for Caldwell. Let’s just make sure
he doesn’t see or hear anything compromising. Now, tomorrow’s the big day. We’ll
have one more procedural drill tonight. Are there any issues we need to discuss . . .
Judy?”