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Whatever Robert might have said, or before he could decide if he should speak, the horizon shuddered and dozens of airships popped into view, smoke trails making curved lines outward from cannon mounts on their prows. Steam engine noise mingled with the whistle of incoming cannon fire. Though it looked like it was heading for them, the shots would fall well short of their position.

Faustus’ eyes widened. “No, this is the wrong time.”

The shells hit in an untidy line, well clear of any human targets. A long pause and then smoke—no, gas—erupted like geysers along the impact line. People ran in and out of view, alarms clanged. Faustus rose, paced to the opening of the gazebo.

He’s not afraid of it, just annoyed. What’s the target? Blynken?
Silence.
Blynken?

Instead of Blynken,
they
answered with a howl of glee at being loosed from restraint.

FORTY-TWO

Wynken? Nod?
Emily couldn’t resist trying to reach the nanites again, still couldn’t believe they were gone, could have used them when facing the bug, but she remained the only voice inside her head, at least the only one talking. The two girls were yelling orders and doing nothing to help the zombie pins. With a sigh, she eased the mint container out of her pocket and lifted it to eye level. It’s tiny, yet still evil, legs flexed.
I’m being very brave.
Would have helped if someone noticed. Her lower lip quivered, but she popped the top and started to stick her finger inside—

The ground shuddered almost knocking her off her feet. The horizon shimmered like a movie effect. Multiple shadows roared over them on an intercept course with the automatons. “Space ships.” Fire spurted from them, sending something toward the line of automatons. Even with the bug… “This is the best day
ever.
”

The shots landed, either on or in front of the automatons, and the line vanished in smoke and flying dirt, shaking her again. This time the mint container flew out of her hand, even as the zombies continued their doomed march toward the battle. She dropped to her knees. Found the container. Of course it was empty. “We have to find it!” She shook it at the two girls. “Help me look for it!”

The two girls stared for several seconds, then dropped to the ground. Both looked surprised they had. Only Carig went so far as to pat the ground.

“Aaugh!” He yanked his hand up and stared at the bug attached to the end.

“You found it! Good job.” His other hand started toward it. “No, don’t do that! It won’t work and you—” Emily’s gaze flicked toward the automatons. It was evil, but if it saved time… “You need to run. That way.” She pointed away from the zombies. Away from the automatons.

Carig glared at her. “Run? I do not run—”

“If you don’t run, the zombies will get you and that thing will turn you into one.” Okay, that was wrong and he probably wouldn’t believe her anyway—

The zombies turned toward them, their bodies falling into the same stance as Carig. He took one look and took off like a rabbit. A girl rabbit. After a pause, the zombies started after him, moving from shambling walk to shambling run. Some stumbled and fell, but got right up again. Glarmere backed a few steps, then he turned and ran.

“That went better than I expected.” She realized she was in the way of the incoming zombies. The ground shook again, the horizon shimmied and this huge, dark, tornado looking thing popped into view. Emily backed and then backed some more, until the zombies shamble/run passed her by. The automaton/space ship battle looked like it was moving her way. She looked around, spotted the gazebo and started toward it at a trot, then broke into a run as the air began to swirl and twist around her. The earthquake crap picked up, too. Kind of reminded her of the weird New York, only worse. The weird part? The ground appeared to shake, but nothing moved except the people. And for an outpost? Not nearly enough people with weapons. A space ship whined past, sounding scary close and she threw herself to the ground, covering her head with her arms. A shadow tracked over her, then turned, and fired. The whine of the missile or space ship firing whatever was away from her, so she lifted her head and looked around. The area around the automatons looked churned up, but she saw some metal rubble that looked promising. She got to her knees, assessed the distance to the gazebo.

And saw Robert inside.

On his knees.

His hands behind his head.

A creepy dude stood pointing a gun at him. A ray gun.

She had to do something. If she only had a gun—

Wait. She did have a gun. Stuck in her corset. At least—yeah, it was still there, well it used to be in her corset. Now it was in her hand. He was so close to Robert, though, if she missed…she’d just have to not miss. She made her mental stand in grim determination and eased the safety off, studied the settings, which meant nothing, since they were in a language she couldn’t read. Two settings. On Earth, low would be the first one, high the second. On the other hand, when one wanted to shoot someone, wouldn’t one want to start with high? What setting had she used to blow up the crate? She was pretty sure it was the first. Probably needed to blow up the bad guy pointing a gun at Robert-oh-my-darling. She bit her lip, and then clicked it onto the second setting. Just in case she missed. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She eased back down onto her stomach, propped her elbows on the ground.

Took aim.

Squeezed the trigger slowly in.

A weird light shot out the barrel.

The horizon did that shimmy thing and a woman appeared on the path right in her line of fire. It hit her in the back. She stumbled forward, then sprawled to the ground.
Oops.

* * * *

A couple of demolition specialists inserted charges into the ground around the location of the hidden lab. From what Doc recalled of the data, the lab was closer to the seaside of the hill, only a few feet from the grassy surface. It might have been visible before the outpost was abandoned, and it soon would be again. The two men trotted back to their position, trailing wire, attached it to the plunger. At Doc’s nod, one of them depressed the handle. A satisfying boom followed, turning the neat hillside into a churned up pile of dirt and sod.

“I see something,” Fyn said. He approached cautiously, with his weapon out.

Doc followed on his six, happy to let the expert do what the expert did.

He lowered his weapon, kicked some clods aside with his foot. “Top of something, I’d say.”

Some girls were all about WD-40 for loosening or opening stuff. Doc had a different favorite for that job. “Get out the C-4.”

* * * *

Robert’s knees turned to rubber, but it didn’t matter. He was already on his knees. Only bright spot. Fought the need to fall forward, to curl around
them,
to tumble back into the half-life Delilah had freed him from…

You are stronger than you think.

The words were a lifeline thrown into a turbulent sea. He grabbed them, held on, held onto the memory of Em. If he lost it now…

Delilah’s memories weren’t all gone. Some had been integrated with his giving him another lifeline to grasp, a path to follow, a way to help him control the mental hell hounds rampaging through his head. He focused on the center of Faustus’ back, while the chaos spun around the spot, then slowly, oh so slowly, faded to a distant roar.
Solve the problem you’re facing. Let everything else go.
He managed to slow his breathing, though his body felt chilled by a coating of sweat. The slow coalescing of what he’d retained helped, too. He could do this. He had to. Faustus shifted a bit, giving Robert a better view of the data pad. It looked like he was tracking some kind of wave, if the readings were correct, one of tsunami proportions. Nothing like the impossible to sharpen the focus. Even
they
sat up and went, oh crap.

Faustus turned with a jerk, as if he’d recalled Robert’s presence. Seemed pleased to find him still kneeling. “I begin to think your reputation was over-rated.”

Robert shrugged a bit, it hurt, but also helped him focus. Whatever it took. Faustus gaze narrowed, as if he sensed something off with Robert, but before he could bend his brain to the problem, his data pad beeped and it wasn’t a happy sound. More like a frantic squawk. Faustus looked down. His brows jerked together.

“It should be visible in the stream by now,” he muttered, tapping some things, as if that would make it appear. He looked up, his hand hovering over a button as Halane blinked in and out of view.

She was here. And then she wasn’t.
Something had happened to remove Halane from time and now Faustus thought he’d done something to bring her back. But it wasn’t happening like he expected.

“You’re trying to catch her in the shields. But her reality isn’t stable enough.”

Faustus turned toward him. “Not yet. But as my counter wave approaches, her reality should stabilize.”

No sign of stabilizing yet. Unless—Robert wasn’t sure where knowledge came from, Delilah or some residue from the peeps, maybe what he’d learned in the last six month, or all three coming together at the right moment. Whatever it was, he felt the tone ring true. He’d locked on his target.

“Unless that
is
your wave incoming.”
Poking a bear is dangerous, but sometimes required.

Faustus lifted his cold, dead gaze, let it slam into Robert.

“Maybe there isn’t another wave. Maybe you’ve been battling,” Robert paused because it felt right, “yourself. Maybe you did it. Maybe you made her go away.”

Faustus smiled. “Clever. Perhaps you do deserve some of your reputation.”

The words, the tone, even the smile were right on, but the eyes, they shifted away and down. A righteous shot.

“Time isn’t tidy in the stream. The past, the present, the future,” Robert shifted his gaze toward the airships, then back, “bump and bend together.”

“I know more than you’ll ever know about time.” The tone was less smooth, less amused, more ragged.

“Then where is it? You said it yourself. It should be there.”

“There’s still time—” The data pad squealed again and the air, or maybe it was time, shook. Halane’s image flickered more fitfully, but Faustus had forgotten to watch. Or he knew it was no use. His expression tightened. He leveled the gun at Robert. “I have all the time I want to get it right. I can do this again and again and again, but the next time through it, I’ll have you to play with while I figure it out.”

“You’ve already changed time.” No question he’d poked the bear. Could he break him before he got shot? The horizon shivered again and he saw Em jogging up the rise toward them. Faustus started to turn back to his flickering girlfriend, Robert rushed into speech. “She’s not in the time line anymore. You destroyed her. You’ve blamed everyone and punished people who didn’t deserve it. You’re the problem. Even if you got her back, do you think she’d want you?” The words came from his fears. He knew this, felt his hounds echoing it, trying to take him down. Would Em want him when she found out who and what he was? Because there was no answer, he funneled the emotion, the fear into his attack on Faustus.

“And that’s why she’ll understand!” The hand holding the weapon wavered, his body shook with rage seeping into his tone. “She’s out there right now. You saw her! If I can get her inside the shields before it hits—”

“I don’t know you, and I can see who and what you are. If she does know you, if she remembers you, do you really think she won’t see what you’ve become?”

“I can make her understand! Just like I can make
you
shut up or do whatever I want!”

“With this?” Robert pulled the small bottle out of his pocket and held it up. “You’ll do this to her? And make her what? Love
you
? It didn’t work that well with Smith. He didn’t love you. He hated you. You controlled his actions, but not his brain. Not his heart. You never commanded his loyalty, not really.”

Em’s eyes widened, as if she saw them. She dropped down on the ground, pulling the ray gun she’d tucked in her corset. Took aim at Faustus’s back. Robert had a sudden memory of her looking down the barrel. Wanted to edge away from Faustus. Give her some wiggle room for her shot.

“She will! She will love me!” The words came out on a rising yell. “And you will die!”

The gazebo, not the outpost, shook as if there’d been an explosion. Robert saw her, saw Halane appear, not shadowy this time. “There she is. Ask her. Ask her if she can love the monster you’ve become.”

Faustus spun around. Had to have seen Em. Lifted his gun to fire. Robert flung himself at Faustus as Halane took the shot meant for Faustus.

* * * *

Since chunks of concrete-like material would hopefully be part of this blast, they moved further back. Doc nodded to Fyn and he depressed the firing trigger. In that split second before detonation, Doc saw him, saw Robert. Then the side of the hill erupted again, obscuring him in dust and flying debris. Doc started forward, felt someone grab her arm.

“Not yet.”

“You saw him, too.”

“Yeah. Someone had a gun pointed at him.” A pause as debris rained onto the ground between them and the gazebo. He signaled his team. “Let’s move out.”

They ran forward with weapons drawn, the team fanning out and staying low, but before they got more than a few feet the horizon shuddered and the gazebo was empty again. Had they shifted realities? Or were they still getting glimpses of another one? Another time? They all stopped, though Fyn didn’t lower his guard. His weapon resting on his forearm, he did a sweep, before he looked at her.

Doc tapped her radio. “General?”

“You find something, Doc?”

So they were still in their reality, in theory anyway.

“Yes, sir. Checking it out now.” She thought a moment. “Are you in contact with the fighter squadrons?”

Halliwell sighed heavily. “No.”

“The minute you are, I’d suggest you stand them down, sir.”

“What the hell is going on, Doc?”