Emperors of Time (12 page)

But Tim couldn’t
communicate any of this with Jane and Patrick around, so he had to content
himself with hoping that the others had considered the same issues he
had.  All he said out loud was, “Sure, that sounds great!  Let’s have
a look at them, then!”

Patrick had six
issues of the
San Francisco Chronicle
from 1916.  When he spread
them on the table, Tim immediately began to search the date lines of the
papers.  It seemed that Patrick already had them organized in
chronological order, which made Tim’s task easier as he scanned for one that
might work.  February 12, 1916.  Way too early.  May 6,
1916.  Closer, but too early.  September 15, 1916.   Still
no.  November 3, 1916.

“Wait!” said
Tim, with an amount of excitement that Patrick and Jane probably thought was
far too high for what was supposedly a school assignment.  “Wasn’t the
election on November…  6th, was it?”

“November 7th!”
exclaimed Julie.  “I have a good memory for numbers.”

“Right,” said
Billy in an even tone, looking at Jane and Patrick.  “It’s just that one
of the things we mention in our report is the election.  So it’d be really
cool if we could bring a newspaper that mentions it.”

“Well, there’s
this one, then, from November 10.  I’m sure that one talks about the
election, too, and that one would do it in retrospect.”

“Hmm…” said
Rose.  “But isn’t speculating about the potential always more
exciting?  Think about it, it’s just before the election, everyone is
holding their breath, not sure who the winner is going to be…”

Tim knew that
Rose was only trying to explain why they would want one newspaper over the
other in a way that didn’t involve time-travel, but he still thought she was
pretty convincing. 

“Well, like I
said, you can feel free to take them both,” said Patrick, with a shrug.

“Thanks so
much!” said Tim in a way that must have sounded overly sincere.

“Yes,” said
Julie with a measured nod of her head, having recovered herself.  “We are
definitely going to ace this project.”

Twenty minutes
later, they were dressed in their normal clothes standing in the parking lot
around their cars.  Julie had volunteered to give Tim a ride home, but the
four teens were in no particular rush to leave.  Instead, they were glad
for the parking lot, empty of people other than themselves, so they could talk
openly about what they had just gotten their hands on.

But Billy, it
turned out, had another gem to share with them first. 

“So, I took some
initiative on something…  I hope that wasn’t too bold, given that I was
the last one to be recruited for this team and all…” said Billy.

“I’m sure it’s
fine,” said Rose cheerfully.

Julie just
shrugged.  “Let’s hear what it was, at least.”

Billy pulled a
piece of paper out of his pocket.  “I’ve been thinking a bit about money
for our little adventure.  As in, almost everything is easier if you have
a couple dollars to spend.  But, of course, pretty much all of our money
is useless.”

“I’ve got some
coins that are worth, maybe…  fifty cents…  from around 1900,” said
Tim, glad that his love for collecting coins was now having something
approaching a useful application.

“Right, but that’s
not going to be enough to help us get around.  Like, if we need to spend a
night there or something…  I mean, I know money was worth a little bit
more back then, but…” Billy trailed off.

“Mmm…  I
remember from economics class that there was a lot of inflation,
obviously.  But not enough to make it worth more than $10 today,” Tim
confirmed.

“Right. 
And I think we should have more,” said Billy.  “So, here’s my bright
idea:  Sports betting.”

Julie cocked an
eyebrow at him skeptically. 

“Well…  I
mean…  we know what all the scores are going to be.   I looked
up all the college football games that happened on the Saturday before the
election,” said Billy.

Tim
grinned.  “There you go…  Some good has come up out of your obsession
with sports.”

“Of course it
has,” said Billy seriously.  “My obsession with sports is
always
useful.”  Then, he laughed.  “No, not really.  But, you think
this might work?”
               
“Betting wasn’t legal in San Francisco back then, was it?” asked Julie, still
skeptical.

“No, but that
doesn’t mean that we can’t find someone to bet with,” Billy pointed out. 
“I found a little information on where there was gambling.”

“Yeah, but…
anybody who would take a bet would be a criminal, right?” asked Julie.

“Well, it
couldn’t hurt to have the information,” said Rose, clearly trying to preempt
potential conflict.  “And make sure you bring those coins along,
Tim.  I don’t imagine you carry them around regularly, do you?”

“Right,” said
Tim.  “No, I don’t.” 

“Well… 
I’ve got to get home and eat dinner with the family,” said Julie.  “You
still want that ride, Tim?”
               
“Yeah,” said Tim.  “Thanks.”

Julie turned to
the other two and said, “We’ll meet tomorrow, then, and try to figure more
about where the bomb went off and how to stop it.  Let’s put the stuff we
just got in my car…  I’ll keep it at my house because we meet there most
often anyway.”

They all agreed
to this, and Tim got in the passenger’s seat of Julie’s car. 

The ride home
did not feel particularly awkward.  Julie and Tim had a pleasantly
off-topic conversation about which were cooler, giraffes or dolphins, with
Julie of course taking the side of the giraffe.  Tim had a bit of a hard
time defending his choice of the dolphin as being cooler, because he kept wondering
whether he should change the topic to how sorry he was about how he had reacted
to her kissing him.  But he decided he shouldn’t talk any more about it,
but simply kiss her.  He also decided that he should probably wait to do
that until sometime she wasn’t driving, so there was a moment of truth when she
parked in his driveway.  He had almost begun to lean over to kiss her when
his Dad’s car pulled in next to them on its way to the garage.  With that,
the moment was lost, he said good-bye to Julie, and got out of the car.

Coincidences
happen all the time, and usually people learn to accept them as part of the
natural order of things.  Once, Tim had found three heads up pennies on
the same day.  One was lying on the road in front of his house, another
was lying on the cafeteria of the elementary school Tim had attended at the
time, and the final one had been at the store where Tim’s mother happened to
take him that evening.  Sure, it was strange, since he had rarely had an
occasion to find one heads up penny any other day, but he had never thought
that a band of time travelling villains was behind any of it. 

The events of
the night when Tim, Julie, Billy, and Rose visited the antique shop together
would test the limits of what Tim could credibly believe was a coincidence.

The evening
started out normal enough.  There was a rumble of thunder as Tim, his
parents, and his sister sat down for a late dinner of spaghetti around
eight.  But that was not unusual, since it was springtime, and there were
often spring thunderstorms in southern Pennsylvania.

But roundabout
the time when Tim, who generally had a large appetite, especially when
spaghetti was served, was helping himself to seconds, the emergency alarm went
off. 

Tim had
mentioned to Julie not long before that he had only ever been in the proximity
of airstrike hits a few times.  This was true, but the alarm went off a
lot more than that.  Often, even though the missile shield seemed to be
malfunctioning, a neighboring shield would be able to compensate, or the
missile would hit far enough from Tim’s own location that the whole event felt
less like a near miss and more like an annoyance. 

As usually
happened when a siren went off when Tim was home, his father grabbed the
battery-operated radio and brought it into the basement as he ushered the
family to the windowless, underground room, which was considered the safest
place to be in a missile strike.  After a minute, the alarm stopped
sounding, since that’s the setting Tim’s family had selected on their missile
warning system.  There was a blinking light on each floor that would
continue to flash red until the threat passed.

In the basement,
Tim’s mother looked a little worried.  His Dad turned on the radio, and
his sister obediently ducked and covered under a desk they kept in the corner
of the basement, as her parents instructed.  As for Tim himself, he
covered his head with his hands and contemplated how unusual it was for him to
be in two missile warning areas in one week.  This was a lot like the
second penny on that day when he was in elementary school.  A bit weird,
maybe, but nothing suspicious.

There was a
little chatter on the radio, but nothing exciting until a few minutes in, when the
on-air personality was silent for a few seconds -- perhaps reading something --
and then broke the silence with some rather peculiar news.

“We are getting
word at this time that several of the missile defense systems along the Eastern
seaboard are simultaneously malfunctioning, as are many of the programs that
run the local or privately owned defense systems of individual buildings. 
All potential targets in our listening area should be considered vulnerable at
this time.  Please make sure that you are in an internal room and duck and
cover until the threat has passed.  Of course, you should stay tuned in to
this station for updates on this developing situation.”

Contrary to the
radio announcer’s instructions, this warning actually caused Tim to take his
hands off his head and look at his father.  His father and mother were
both sitting against a wall.  It was mostly school that had taught Tim and
his sister to duck and cover during missile strikes.  His mother and
father had always seemed to think it was useless to do for themselves, although
they still made their kids do it.

“Has this ever
happened before?” Tim asked his father.

“Not that I’m
aware of, no,” he answered.  “Although I’m sure it’s nothing to worry
about.  We’ll be safe enough down here, anyway, even if the house is hit
directly.”

The two
announcers on the radio were mixing words of prudence with encouragement. 
The government was advising caution, but there was no doubt that the situation
was under control and all systems would be back up and running again. 
Judging by the amount of times the announcers insisted this was “nothing more
than a mechanical glitch,” Tim expected that his favorite internet sites would
soon be calling it an act of sabotage by the Russians.  He was unsure how
this could have happened, though, since they had never been able to do it
before.

This was like
the third heads up penny, and Tim was beginning to get a bit suspicious.

That was when
the light in the basement went out, and the radio signal turned to
static.  With no windows, it was eerily dark for a few moments, with only
the slight glow of the power indicator on the radio giving off light.

Tim’s father
took his cellphone out, and after a moment of letting his eyes adjust, was able
to find the emergency box they’d never had to use before.  He got out a
flashlight and soon there was enough light that the four of them could see each
other. 

“Cell-phone
signal’s out, too,” his father muttered, as he put his phone away.  “I
wonder if they hit a tower or something.”

There was a
rumble above ground, and Tim was unsure whether it was thunder, a car, or a
missile impact.

Then, there was
a car honk, very close to the house.  It sounded like it was in the
driveway itself.

“Who on Earth
could that be?” asked Tim’s father.  “Can’t they hear the outdoor siren?”

There was a
moment of relative quiet.  Then, the doorbell rang.

Tim’s mother and
father exchanged a look. 

“Well, I’d best
be quick about this,” said Tim’s father.  He hurried up the stairs. 
Tim had no idea who it could be, so he was just as surprised as everyone else
when his father yelled down the stairs, “It’s that Julie girl, Tim.”

“Well let her
in!” yelled Tim’s mother.  “We can’t have children outdoors during a
missile-raid!”

Tim had gotten
out from under the table as soon as Julie’s name had been mentioned, and now he
was at the base of the steps, looking up at the door.  His father opened
the door, and Julie rushed in.  Rain water was dripping from nose, from
her ponytail, from everywhere. 

“Tim!” she said,
as he rushed up the steps to meet her.  “We need to go…  now!”

 “You can’t
go anywhere right now,” Tim’s mother chastised.  “Your parents will be
worried about you.  You should call them.”

“Cell-phones are
down,” countered Julie, shaking her head.

“Well,” Tim’s
mother said.  “We have a landline, and that should still be working, even
without electricity.  Why don’t you call your mother on that?”

“Good idea!”
exclaimed Julie after the slightest pause.  “Tim, get your coins!”

“What?” asked
Tim’s mother.  “No!  There will be plenty of time for Tim to show you
his coin collections once the missiles have stopped!”

“And the
Tempus!”  shouted Julie as Tim hustled back the hallway, trailed by his
frustrated and worried mother. 

He collected his
coins from the display case on his desk and shoved them into his pocket, along
with the second Dominus Temporis, which he was now responsible for.  He
heard Julie’s voice as she spoke urgently on the phone down the hallway. 

“Yeah… 
Rose!  Listen!  You need to get Billy and meet us somewhere… 
Yeah…  sure, the McDonald’s parking lot is fine.  Have him bring that
stupid betting information he was talking about, I don’t have any better
idea…  Yeah, all right.  See you soon!”

“You’re not
going anywhere!” Tim’s mother, now more worried, proclaimed.

“I can’t let you
leave right now,” said Tim’s father gravely, blocking the door.

Tim and Julie
approached the door, but it was clear that Tim’s father was not budging.  He
pointed down the stairs, indicating that was where the two teens needed to go.

This was going
to be a problem, but then Tim’s sister did something that surprised him. 
She charged up the stairs and said, “No!  I’m leaving, too!”  And she
rushed toward the back door, giving Tim a wink as she passed.  Tim had
little idea what had caused her to decide to help him out, but it worked. 
Her father had to leave the door to catch her.

Tim and Julie
slipped out the door as his mother tried to grab Tim’s arm and his father
yelled from behind them, “Why would you choose the middle of a missile strike
in a thunderstorm to be rebellious for the first time ever!?”

They outran his
mother and opened the doors to Julie’s car. 

“Sorry
Mom!  I’ve got to go!” Tim said as he locked the door.  His mother
began to pound on his window.

Julie started
the engine and began to back away from Tim’s mother.  As they left the
development, she stopped trying to chase the car and went back into the
house. 

“What’s going
on?” asked Tim, as he brushed some water out of his bangs.  “You think we
should leave
now
?  We don’t have nearly enough information to fix
what happened.”

Julie took her
eyes off the road for just long enough to give Tim an urgent look.  “We
have
to,” she said.

Just as she said
the word, “have”, Tim saw a sight he had never seen before.  He could not
see it too well in the semi-darkness of the thundery evening, but he could see
it, all the same.  There was a missile about the size of a school bus
making its way across the sky.  He had only ever seen airborne missiles on
the news.  He saw this one clearly as it hit a convenience store about
half a mile up the road. 

“Don’t you
understand?” she asked him.

“Understand
what?” he responded.

“They’re coming
after us, somehow.  You said yourself you’ve only ever been close to a
missile strike a few times, right?” asked Julie.

“Sure,” agreed
Tim.

“How close is
close?” she pressed.

“There had been
about three or four in town that I knew of, before last Friday.”

“Counting that
one we just saw, there have been six in town in the last 20 minutes,” Julie
informed him grimly. 

“
Six
?”
asked Tim.  He thought for a moment.  “But the missile defense system
is down.  There are bound to be more hits.”

“Just
listen.”  Julie turned up the volume on her radio.  “It’s coming from
down south a ways, because the stations to the north are all in the dark… 
One of the blasts must have hit a local power line.  Anyway…”

This radio
personality was saying, “--upwards of 30 strikes in all of Pennsylvania in the
last half hour, six have been within a three mile radius of George Washington
High School, towards the northern end of our listening area.”

“But… That’s
us,” said Tim, flabbergasted.  “The hardest hit area in the state, it sounds
like, right around us.”

Julie
nodded.  “It’s got to be the Emperors.”

“They know who
we are?” asked Tim.

“I guess,” said
Julie with a half-hearted shrug.  “Or who I am, anyway.  If Hopkins
was able to find me in the first place, I must be famous enough for the
Emperors to have recognized me.  Maybe I had showed up on a video-camera
or something in 2347.  At least, that’s the best I could come up
with.  But they could have the place bugged, right?  I mean, we have
the technology to do that today.  And we’re dealing with people who can
actually travel through time!”

“So, you figure
we go now because…” said Tim, hesitating to say what he wanted to say next.

“Because it
could be now or never,” confirmed Julie with a slight nod.

“Rose and Billy
are on their way to the McDonalds?” confirmed Tim.

“Yep…  We
should be there in… four minutes, I suppose.  No traffic out here… 
Thanks to the raid, I guess,” Julie said.

“Right. 
Most people would have pulled off to a shelter by now.  There’s one every
four or so miles on major highways,” Tim said. 

Julie shook her
head, bewildered.  “We didn’t have anything like that in my
timeline.  I mean, we had a war, a new round of the draft every month, but
no missile bunkers.”

“Sounds like a
great place,” said Tim with a sarcastic eye-roll.  Then, his eyes widened
as he glanced in the rearview mirror.  They had just gotten on the
highway.  The McDonalds was two exits down.  There were no other cars
in sight, except for one.  “Holy crap!  Is that a cop?”

The question
seemed ridiculous by the time it came out of Tim’s mouth.  The lights
began to flash, and the siren blared over the patter of the rain on the
windshield and the sound of the radio. 

Julie stepped on
the gas.  “Can’t risk it,” she said, seeing Tim’s surprise at her
reaction.  “Remember, in 1865, the Emperors got some corrupt cops to do
their bidding.  If they’re here now, they might have gotten to this guy,
too.”

“You figure we
can outrun him?” asked Tim.

“We’ve got to
try!” said Julie, clearly getting frustrated as the speedometer hit
seventy-five and the cop was not getting any further away.

“Do you think
they know who they’re chasing?” asked Tim.  He wasn’t sure whether to be
skeptical or scared.

“I don’t want to
find out.  We’ve got to get to that parking lot and leave right
away.  I think Rose understands that and hopefully she’s talking to
Billy…  Our stuff’s in the trunk.  Since we’re breaking the law
anyway, do you want to get it out of the trunk?”

“There’s access
from the backseat?” asked Tim as he took off his seatbelt.

“No, you idiot,
I want you to climb on the roof and get it!” Julie said, taking half a second
out of shifting her gaze between the road and her rearview mirror to throw Tim
a sidelong glare.