Authors: T.A. Uner
Her commlink flashed. She looked around to make sure no one was around before answering it.
Grendis,
she thought. She activated it and his voice crackled through the temporal static. “Tir, this is Grendis, respond!”
“Destroyer Tir Morol here,” she replied using her official title. “I hear you Lord Grendis.” She hated calling him that. He wasn’t a true noble born aristocrat like her, but rather a commoner who had earned the title through years of service.
“Report your status.”
“The launch is less than three days away. I have already marked three targets that will utterly destroy their launch capabilities.”
“Have you seen anything suspicious, Destroyer Morol?”
Tir wondered what Grendis meant by ‘suspicious.’ She didn’t want to depict sub-standard vernacular, so she eyed her translator which defined ‘suspicious.’ After a few moments Grendis spoke again: “Tir Morol are you still there?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Another member of our incursion team, Mentis Dutt, has gone missing. Our recovery teams haven’t been able to locate him.”
This made no sense to Tir. “With respect, Lord Grendis, the mission buoy would prevent such an error.”
“Normally, yes, but it too is missing. So we have no way of knowing if Mentis has been successful or not, and by the time we learn, it will be too late, unless our recovery team is able to retrieve his buoy. That is why I am contacting you. Your mission
must
succeed.”
Tir felt insulted that this pompous oaf was insinuating that she was at risk of failure. “You need not worry, I have never
failed
, My Lord.”
“Good. Make sure that you don’t, for if you do I shall expect nothing less than your erosion. Grendis out!”
“Erosion! Bah!” Tir nearly spat at Grendis, but he’d already signed off. Did he even know who he was talking to? The Morol bloodlines dated back to the 3
rd
Age. No one in her family had ever failed their nation. As for erosion, perhaps Grendis should be asking that of Mentis, he had failed, not she. As soon as she returned to her own time, she would have her father speak to the Star Marshal about being transferred to another regiment. One with a more competent commanding officer. She had little patience for Grendis’ tactless behavior.
She cursed softly and pocketed her transmitter inside her dress pocket. Above her the cloudless afternoon sky contained the lone star of Earth’s planetary system, which burned brightly like an emission nebula she had seen once during an interstellar voyage.
Her stomach rumbled. It had been almost a day since she’d eaten. She was anxious to try a human delicacy called caviar.
July 14
th
, 1969
11:25 am EST
“That was the best milkshake I ever tasted,” Johnny said as he and Argos cruised through Melbourne, Florida inside Gina. The windows were rolled down and both Jessie and Studs had their heads poked outside enjoying the wind brushing their faces.
“Happy to hear that, but as you know, we’re not here to sample this era’s cuisine, Johnny,” Argos replied. “A Lycarian saboteur is out there.”
Johnny eyed his scanner while Argos focused on his driving. “You getting anything on that?”
Johnny shook his head. “Nope.” He made an adjustment yet there were still no Lycarian life signs. “Where do you suppose they’ll target? The Rocket?”
“Probably. Or maybe the launch complex, Kennedy Space Center. We’ll crash at a motel as close as we can get, then start patrolling the area, keeping an eye out for any Lycarian activity.”
An hour later they found an old one-level motel ten miles away from the Kennedy Space Center. When Argos and Johnny checked in at the front counter, the clerk gave Johnny a strange look, as if wondering what a white teenager was doing checking in with a black man. Despite the Civil Rights act being half a decade old, Johnny figured there were still some lingering negative feelings against black Americans in the south.
After a brief rest they decided to take the dogs for a walk outside.
Destroyer Tir Morol decided that Florida wasn’t such a bad place to be stationed. It was much better than some of the other assignments she’d had in the past. Besides, warm weather always improved her demeanor.
Posing as a journalist covering the Apollo 11 launch, her counterfeit press credentials from the newspaper,
The Miami Herald,
had given her access to the launch facility. But there was still ample security. It did not affect her morale as she could easily slip past any security countermeasures. She was, after all, in possession of vastly superior technology, which could easily negate any type of security resistance she would encounter.
After examining her surroundings and taking readings, she decided that the launch escape assembly tower on the Saturn V rocket carrying the Apollo 11 command, service and lunar modules would be her primary target. This would guarantee total destruction of the Lunar Lander
Eagle,
and Command/Service Module,
Columbia
. Her secondary target would be the Kennedy Space Center. Her final target, she still hadn’t decided on.
With her newly procured data, she decided to leave the launch compound. That was when her scanner alerted her of an antimatter energy signature. She was confounded, but decided not to let it cloud her judgment. Instead, she would report it to Grendis and get his feedback.
Tir found a rest stop and pulled over. The 1961 Chevrolet Impala she had rented was a sluggish vehicle and not fit for her tastes. After looking around outside to make sure no one was paying any attention to her, she activated her temporal transmitter and Grendis’ holographic wolfen face appeared. “Report,” he said.
“I have troubling news,” she said. “I’ve detected an antimatter signature in 1969; possibly the result of a time-incursion.”
“Impossible,” Grendis barked. “Humans do not possess that level of technology.”
“I can send you my readings.”
“Yes, make sure that you do.”
A thought occurred to Tir, and she decided she would follow up on it. “My Lord?”
“Yes, Destroyer Tir, what is it?”
“Could you send me the log of the recovery team that was sent to investigate the disappearance of Mentis Dutt?”
Grendis’ expression was indifferent. “For what purpose?”
“I may have a theory.” She paused and tapped her transmitter with her forefinger. “But I would need to inspect the data to be able to confirm it.”
“Very well. I shall have Archives transmit it to you. Grendis out.”
She exhaled. Speaking with Grendis was always taxing. She was about to put away her transmitter when she noticed a small human boy was staring at her. She wondered how much of her conversation with Grendis the boy might’ve heard. Tir stepped out of her car and walked over to the boy, wondering where the child’s parents were.
“Hello there,” she said nonchalantly, “why were you staring at me?”
“I saw what you were doing lady,” the boy said suspiciously.
Tir cocked her head back and laughed. “And
what
exactly was I doing?”
The boy looked up at her and smirked. “You were talking into your top-secret agent walkie-talkie. I know a top-secret agent walkie-talkie when I see one.”
“Is that so?” Tir decided she’d have a bit of fun with this nosy little creature. “What if I told you that I was a big bad space alien sent here to destroy your planet?”
“C’mon lady,” the boy said captiously, “ya think I was born yesterday?” His eyes narrowed. “I bet you’re a commie spy.”
A woman came running towards them and grabbed the boy’s arm. “Mikey! Where have you been? Your father and I have been looking for you!” She looked up at Tir and smiled nervously. “I hope our son hasn’t been too big a pest.”
“Nonsense,” Tir replied as she ruffled Mikey’s hair. “I found him quite charming.”
“Time to go now,” Mikey’s mother said before dragging the boy away. Mikey looked at Tir suspiciously before she bared her Lycarian fangs at him. The boy’s face turned white and he looked away.
“Interesting creatures, these humans,” Tir said as she headed back to her car.
“Got something,” Johnny said. Argos leaned over his shoulder and looked at the readings on his friend’s scanner. “Some sort of time-distortion transmission.”
Argos nodded his head enthusiastically. “So our guess was correct. No doubt the saboteur is contacting their superiors from the future. Distance?”
“Six point two miles from our current position. That would put the Lycarian close to the launch site.”
Argos grabbed his jacket. “We better get a move on it.”
Gina sped out of the motel’s parking lot, kicking up rocks and dust from her tires as they headed towards Cape Canaveral. “I just hope the saboteur hasn’t already planted their weapon, will be much harder to locate once it’s in place.”
“Why not just try and capture the saboteur and force the information out of them?”
Argos looked at Johnny alarmingly. “You mean as in torture?” He shook his head. “AL conduct prohibits us from torturing enemy operatives. Didn’t you take the standard AL ethics course during training?”
Johnny wrinkled his forehead. “Yeah. I did. But I don’t think that’s right. There are aliens out there who don’t exactly like us. You of all people should know Argos. We shouldn’t be afraid to dish out some punishment to them. Those bastards kinda have it coming to them.”
Argos slipped Johnny a disconcerting glance. “You see that’s where you’re wrong. Against a determined opponent, torture has little, if any effect, and even if you do manage to break down a suspect by beating his brains in, after a while it loses its effectiveness.” Argos paused and exhaled. “AL is not a vigilante organization, Johnny, we don’t ‘dish out’ punishment like a band of thugs. We prevent attacks by our enemies and potential rivals. If we go around turning all our enemies to ashes, then we wouldn’t be much better than them…now would we?”
Both Jessie and Studs listened intently from the back seat. The radio was playing a Chuck Berry song. It reminded Johnny of his father, who loved 1950s rock. He decided not to argue further with Argos, who had made his point clear. Instead, Johnny looked out the window and focused on the music.
Tir looked over the data from Grendis’ recovery team assigned to locate Mentis Dutt. For the most part it was a bland summary, only explaining how the buoy simply disappeared like an apparition. Both members of the recovery team seemed to be going through the motions of a basic recovery operation, without committing themselves to solving the mystery of Mentis’ disappearance.
Does Grendis have idiots working for him?
Tir thought.
What could be more important than their assignment?
Their apathetic manner only confirmed her convictions that Grendis was incompetent, and she would be glad when this mission was over so she could transfer to another regiment that was worthy of someone with her skills.
The recovery team did detect a minimal trace of an antimatter trail, which had been present in that 1861 timeline, but unfortunately they had not investigated further. Tir sighed.
So there it was
. The link between Mentis’ mission and hers. Both calendar years—1861 and 1969—had contained evidence of antimatter use from a propulsion system humans were supposedly incapable of possessing. “Of course,” Tir said, thinking aloud. “But is it possible?” She decided to share her theory with Grendis. But would he believe her?
“I have news, My Lord,” Tir reported from inside a telephone booth to make her transmission look less conspicuous. “I think I know what may have happened to Mentis Dutt.”
Grendis’ 3D facial image turned sour. As if he had eaten something that had disagreed with his digestion. “And how could you possibly know that Destroyer Morol?” he said in a condescending tone.
Tir ignored his snide demeanor and continued. “There are antimatter signatures in both 1861 and 1969. My theory is that Mentis was intercepted by the humans; apparently they’ve learned of our plan to alter their past.”
Grendis grasped his chin before rubbing it. “Destroyer Morol, you still think this antimatter signature is the result of a time-incursion?”
“Perhaps. If calibrated correctly to alter spacetime.”
Grendis shook his head. “Our Intelligence Bureau confirms there is no human technology capable of that.”
Tir grew tired of jousting with this stubborn fool. “Then perhaps our Intelligence Bureau has made a mistake.” Grendis’ holographic face looked at her murderously, but she raised a finger to prevent him from cutting her off. Emboldened by her discovery she rode the momentum. “They may not have invented the technology; there
could
be another alien culture aiding them. We cannot allow my mission to be threatened. Don’t you agree?”
Grendis thought this over for a moment before nodding his assent. “You make a strong case Destroyer Morol. Very well. If these
humans
do possess technology of this nature, they may also have the means to detect your transmissions. So I order you to maintain communication silence until your mission is complete.”
This suited Tir just fine. “I would like to request permission to engage these humans if I encounter them. Perhaps if I could capture one of them we may learn more about how they obtained such advanced technology.”
Grendis nodded again. “Permission granted. However, do not let it interfere with your primary mission. You must make sure the moon landing program is permanently crippled.”
Tir smiled as she terminated her transmission. Grendis was now indebted to her. She would make a note of her theory in her log. Even if she were wrong about time-traveling humans, her precautious nature would probably earn her an original-thinking commendation. She pulled her thoughts together and decided to prepare a surprise for the human time-travelers.
“I think I’ve found the source of the Lycarian transmission,” Johnny said. Inside his chest his heart was galloping like a racehorse. “I’m not getting any Lycarian lifesigns though.”