TW10 The Hellfire Rebellion NEW (13 page)

She grinned at him. "I learned how to take care of myself long before I met you. Lucas." she said. "But I appreciate the thought. See you guys in a while."

She picked up her coat and hat and left the room. Delaney went over to the window and pulled the curtain back slightly so he could look out into the street below. A few moments later, he saw Andre come out into the street. He continued to watch. Several seconds later, someone came out after her and quickly crossed the street, keeping to the shadows, heading in the same direction.

"She was right." Delaney said. "Adams still has somebody watching us."

“Was it Revere?" Lucas said, joining him at the window.

"I couldn't tell for sure." Delaney said, letting the curtain fall back into position and turning around. "Could've been someone else, I-“ He suddenly threw himself to one side, hit the floor and rolled, coming up to a kneeling position with his pistol cocked and ready.

"Well, that was certainly amusing," Dr. Darkness said. "What will you do for your next trick?"

“He had appeared sitting in the wooden chair across the room, with his legs crossed casually and a heavy blackthorn walking stick held across his lap. He was dressed in dark brown tweeds and a long, brown Inverness wool coat, which he wore unbuttoned. He wore a heavy gold watch chain in his tweed vest and a paisley silk ascot loosely tied around his neck. A brown fedora was tilted rakishly low over his right eye. They could see the back of the chair right through him. He seemed to flicker like a ghost on a television screen, parts of his body appearing solid one moment and transparent the next, the result of his atomic structure having been permanently tachyonized, making him "the man who was faster than light."

Delaney exhaled heavily and lowered the hammer on the gun. "Christ, Doc. I wish to hell you wouldn't do that!"

"What did you expect me to do, Delaney, come to the door and knock?" said Darkness. "Somehow I don't think you'd enjoy explaining to the locals what a ghost was doing knocking on your door in the middle of the night."

Delaney got up and put away the pistol.

"I always did rather enjoy Boston," Darkness said, pushing his hat back on his head, "but not during this particular time period. Another hundred years or so and it will be a worthwhile place to spend a weekend." He reached inside his coat and produced a bottle of wine. "I took the liberty of bringing this up from the wine cellar." he said. "Not exactly your California red. but I suppose it will do if you're not terribly particular.

He tossed the bottle to Delaney. Finn caught it one-handed and went over to the sideboard, where they had a decanter and some glasses.

"Come to check up on the old prototype, eh. Dec." said Lucas. wryly.

"No, I just happened to be passing through this century and I thought I'd stop by for a drink," said Darkness, sarcastically Delaney held a glass of wine out to him and Darkness negligently reached for it. His hand passed right through it. Delaney almost dropped the glass. Darkness frowned and grunted with annoyance.

He reached for the glass again, this time more deliberately, and succeeded in taking it from Delaney's hand.

"It's getting much worse, isn't it?" said Lucas.

"Well, it isn't getting any better," Darkness said, "How about you? Any problems?"

"So far, so good," said Lucas.

"Taken any unscheduled trips lately?" Darkness asked. Lucas grimaced. "Not lately, no. I try not to allow myself to have any stray thoughts about specific times and places. I do my best to keep my mind on the here and now, wherever the here and now might be."

"Don't you find that a bit of a strain?" asked Darkness.

"It was a hell of a strain at first, but it seems to be getting easier. I guess my concentration is improving."

"What about when you go to bed at night? Don't you find your mind wandering?

Do you have nightmares?"

"I meditate," said Lucas. “I try to focus my mind. Like I said, it seems to be getting eater. I haven't had any nightmares for a while. At least, none I can remember. And I keep waking up in the same place, which seems rather encouraging."

"Yes, it certainly does," said Darkness. "Perhaps you're finally getting used to it. On the other hand, perhaps its because you're exercising greater mental discipline. One would think that would go by the boards when you fell asleep . . unless you're conditioning yourself with some sort of auto-suggestion through your meditation." He frowned, it would be just like you to find a way to screw up the field testing by exercising greater self-control."

"Well, excuse me all to hell," said Lucas, sourly.

"You're missing the point. Priest," Darkness said. "While it is certainly laudable that you're working to improve your already considerable powers of concentration, it is nevertheless not the object of this exercise."

“Oh, it's an exercise?" said Lucas. "Forgive me. I thought we were talking about my life here."

"Which. I will remind you, I had gone to particular trouble to preserve,"

said Darkness. "The point is that an infant does not learn to walk by using various objects to steady itself. At some point, it has to let go and fall down a few times."

"Yeah, well, if I should happen to 'fall down,' as you put it," Lucas said, "I'll wind up in some other time period, possibly in a highly unpleasant situation. And in case it's escaped your notice, we're on a mission here. I don't exactly have the time for any side trips."

"Your mission here is only of secondary importance," Darkness said. "The telempathic temporal transponder will revolutionize time travel, but the field testing has to be completed first. That is the primary consideration, above everything else."

"To you, maybe," Lucas said. "To me, the primary consideration is staying in control. One slip and I'm liable to pop off to some other century. You have any idea what it's like having to live with that?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." said Darkness. "I have to live with the fact that I may discorporate at any time and cease to exist . . . or exist everywhere at once. Becoming some sort of cosmic phenomenon was never my ambition. Priest, but it was the price I had to pay in order to perfect the device I've given you."

"Well, forgive me if I'm not suitably grateful." Lucas said, "but I never asked to be your guinea pig."

"I don't expect your thanks," said Darkness.

"My
thanks?
For
what?
For playing God with my life?" Lucas snorted.

"Christ, Darkness, your arrogance is simply unbelievable!"

"Arrogance?" said Darkness. "Mine is the greatest scientific mind in the history of temporal physics. That isn't arrogance, it simply happens to be the truth. And there have been many times when I've wished it were not so. It's an awesome burden. I must find a way to overcome the confluence phenomenon because.

indirectly, it was my work that brought it about. In the meantime, it's imperative to prevent the occurrence of a timestream split, because that could bring about a chain reaction of temporal disasters that nothing could overcome. The telempathic transponder is a vital element to maintaining the integrity of the timeline and you're the key to its success. Your personal concerns are insignificant compared to that responsibility. I can't afford to be concerned with individual sensitivities, Priest. There's far too much at stake. The instability in the timestream is increasing because of the c o n f l u e n c e p h e n o m e n o n . W e m u s t t r y t o b u y s o m e time . . . before we literally run out of it."

Lucas sighed. "All right. What do you want me to do?"

"Let go." said Darkness. "Stop fighting it. You won't be able to keep it up anyway. Sooner or later, you're bound to succumb to the strain. The transponder is designed to function on conscious thought. You have to become adapted to it just as an infant must learn how to walk. Eventually, you should be able to control it as easily as you control your appendages. But you have to give yourself a chance to become accustomed to it. In order to learn how to exercise proper control, you must first take the risk of losing it."

"And what happens if I lose it and translocate to some other time period right in the middle of a crisis, when my partners need me?" Lucas said.

"It's a risk you'll simply have to take." Darkness replied. "If you can keep your head about you and refrain from panic, you should be able to return just as quickly. That's the advantage of the telempathic transponder. You don't have to waste time programming transition coordinates. It's all designed into its particle-level chronicircuitry. Your thought triggers the process and the desired transition coordinates are automatically computed and selected. Don't be afraid

of it, Priest. Give it a chance to serve you."

"And what if it induces molecular instability?" asked Lucas.

"Highly unlikely." Darkness said. "I believe I've solved that flaw in the process."

"You
beleive
?" said Lucas. You mean you don't know for sure?"

"I'm a scientist. Priest. I can never know anything for sure. What do you want, guarantees? There aren't any in life."

"Or in death, it seems," said Lucas.

"I would strongly suggest that you stop agonizing over the metaphysical implications of your existence." Darkness said. "Concentrate on what you know and leave eschatological questions to philosophers. Otherwise you'll only give yourself an ulcer. My regards to Miss Crass."

He disappeared.

"That man is a stone lunatic." said Lucas. "Maybe." said Delaney. "But like it or not, he also happens to be right. He
does
have the greatest scientific mind in the history of temporal physics. If I was in his shoes. I'd probably be a bit around the bend myself."

"A bit around the bend?" said Lucas. "Hell, he
is
the bend."

"Don't think about Hell." said Delaney, with a grin. "If you do, the transponder just might send you there."

"Somehow I doubt that even Dr. Robert Darkness could have programmed
those
transition coordinates." said Lucas, with a wry smile. "Although on the other hand. I'm not all that sum I'd be surprised.”

Andre had spotted her tail within four blocks. And she knew right away that it wasn't Paul Revere. Whoever he was, he was very good. Revere had been clumsy in his shadowing attempts, but this man moved with a quick and silent grace, like a cat, keeping a careful distance and taking full advantage of the darkness. Several times, she had almost thought she lost him, but he was always there, dogging her heels persistently. She was almost to Hunter's place on Long Lane when she decided to make her move.

It was time, she thought, to demonstrate to Samuel Adams that the Sons of Liberty were not the only ones adept at skulking in the night. She turned a corner into Milk Street, ducked into an alleyway, and waited. She reached behind her neck and drew her knife. The shadower was on top of her almost before she knew it. He moved through the dark streets without a sound. As he passed the mouth of the alleyway, she quickly stepped out behind him, brought her arm around his neck, yanked him close, and held the knife up to his face. He gasped.

"If you resist. I'll cut your throat from ear to ear," she said, though she had no intention of making good on the threat.

"Don't!" he said. "Please!"

She swung him around and pressed him up against a wall, holding the knife point to his throat. He stared at her with fear. She quickly patted him down and relieved him of a large hunting knife in a beaded sheath at his belt.

She was surprised to see that he was just a boy, no more than sixteen or seventeen year old, slim and slightly shorter than she was, with light brown hair, dark eyes, and smooth, regular features. He probably hadn't even started to shave yet.

"You've been following me ever since I left the inn." she said. "Who are you?" For added emphasis, she pressed the knife point against his throat, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to frighten him.

"J-Jonathan Small." he stammered "I- -I meant no harm, I swear."

"Who sent you'?"

He swallowed hard. "M-Mr. Revere. I-I am his apprentice. He--he said that I should follow you and your friends, see where you went and- --and whom you met with."

"So." she said, taking away the knife. "It seems Sam Adams doesn't trust us.

You're a Son of Liberty, then? Show me your medallion."

Jonathan looked down at the ground. "I—I haven't got one." he said. "Mr.

Revere said that if I performed my task well, I would be accepted. But it seems that I have failed. They will not want me now."

“If they will not want you, then neither should they want Revere," she said.

"It took me far less time to spot him following us from The Two Palaverers than it took me to notice you, and you may tell him that I said so. Where did you learn to stalk like that?"

"I learned my woodcraft from the Indians in Pennsylvania," he said. "They taught me how to hunt with bow and arrow, how to use a knife and hatchet, and to move through the woods without making a sound. I thought that I had learned it well, yet it appears that I could not even fool a city dweller.” She smiled "Don't be so hard on yourself, Jonathan." she "You would easily fool most people. but I am not without some knowledge of woodcraft myself.”

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Eighteen." she lied.

"You are scarcely older than myself." said Jonathan.

“True.” she said, "but sometimes a year or two can make all the difference in the world. I have seen my share of hardship and adversity. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Jonathan. You did very well, indeed. Do your friends call you Johnny'?"

"Yes."

“Well. Johnny, mine call me Andre, because my mother was a Basque. I hope we can be friends."

She gave him back his knife and held out her hand. He smiled and they shook.

“I'm on my way to see Reese Hunter and tell him that we have made contact with the Tories." she said. "With a man named John Hewitt, who promises to take us to a meeting of men who follow the horseman and oppose the Sons of Liberty. And give a message to Sam Adams that if he continues to send men to follow us, he may give us away. We are already risking much. We do not need him adding to the risk. Tell him we came to him forthrightly to offer our help. He must make up his mind whether to trust us or not."