Time Salvager (Time Salvager #1)(113)

They laughed.

“You brought us here, Elder Chronman,” Sammuia said.

“We belong here more than you,” Qawol said.

Now a full entourage, the group continued until they reached the Head Repository, which also wasn’t there. He thought they would stop there, since the next place he had gone in 2097 was straight down into the water. Instead, the group turned up a side path he had never gone down before and continued walking to Sector Four, a lively, talkative group of ghosts passing by other groups of ghosts, yet seemingly unaware of the others.

Finally, they reached the heart of the platform, where a massive turbine spun, making rising and falling humming noises. James walked over to the railing and looked down over the side to see hundreds of blades churning in the water.

“Is this what destroyed the platform?” he asked.

Grace chuckled her high-pitched chuckle. Of course not, pet. Don’t be absurd.

That’s what destroyed the platform, the Nazi soldier said, pointing at a gold cylinder sitting on the ground. The cylinder was plain, except for a large red V on its side. And in case it wasn’t obvious enough, the name Valta Corporation was displayed in equally bright red letters below it.

James squinted at it. “Is that really what the explosive looked like?”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Of course not, silly. This is your dream, and since you have no idea what it looked like, you imagined it.”

Grace chuckled. Of course, being such a kill mute, even your psyche had to spell everything out for you.

A vid appeared over the cylinder and began to count down from sixty.

“Oh dear,” Franwil said.

“Do something,” Rima urged.

“I … what do you expect me to do? I don’t even have my bands.” James looked down at his hands. Where his arms had been bare seconds ago, two exo bands now wrapped around his wrists.

I guess we’re dead. The Nazi soldier sighed. Always dying over and over again.

You can only die once, Grace said. The rest is just an illusion.

“I haven’t died,” Elise said. “James, do something! Save us.”

He has no choice, Grace said.

Danger.

But he did have a choice. The timer was down to fifty seconds. James ran to the bomb and lifted it up. It was heavier than it looked. He peered around wildly, trying to think of a way to disable it. How could he prevent this accident from happening again? Should he even try? Was he disrupting the chronostream, or was he actually righting it this time?

He looked over at Elise and Grace, the two dead women he had saved. Standing behind them were Qawol, Franwil, the Elfreth, and all those dozens of people now following Elise’s fool quest. They were in danger. Maybe Elise and Grace were better off dead in the past. Maybe the tribe might live longer, more fruitful lives without his interference. No matter what, it seemed he always interfered with others; he destroyed their lives. He had to do something, but everything he did caused more deaths, one way or another.

Danger.

The timer was down to forty. James wrapped his arms around the cylinder and hugged it to his chest. He looked up at the clear blue sky above his head and launched himself straight toward it. He rocketed up until seconds later; the platform was only a tiny circle in a vast sea of blue. The wind whipped and slapped his face, obscuring his vision. He found himself breathing hard. Still, he hung on to the cylinder. The timer was at five seconds now.

James wished he had his atmos right now. He was reaching the portion of the atmosphere where the air was getting thin. He felt his consciousness ebb away and wondered if he was high enough for the explosion to clear the base. He had to be. Well, passing out was a good way to die, wasn’t it? At least he’d feel no pain. The danger to Elise and his newfound friends had passed.

Danger.

James heard a long beep and then everything became still. His vision darkened, and then, right before he passed out, the cylinder exploded, tearing through him in a flash of blazing heat that burned through his skin and melted his bones. Every nerve in his body screamed from the terrible pain, and for one brief moment, he saw Elise, Grace, Rima, and little Sammuia. One last thought came to him: Where was Sasha? Why wasn’t she here? Well, it probably was for the best. At least she was out of …

*

“… danger. Wake up, damn it, James!”

James bolted off the bench and expanded his exo, pushing his shield out until it filled the insides of the collie, threatening to buckle the interior of the ship. His breathing was so uneven and his vision so blurred that his AI band was detecting both a heart attack and a stroke.

“James, are you there! Your vitals are exploding.”

It’d just take a little push, just another notch more, and then the exo’s shielding would burst out of the collie, free at last. Freedom from these nightmares, from the pain. Knees curled up to his chest, he sat on the bench and huddled into a ball. Just a little push more and the collie would break. Already, the ship was groaning under the pressure.

“Damn it!”

In his head, there was a rustling of someone shouting incoherently, as if far away at the other end of a tunnel. The sound of clapping, of footsteps, of people speaking too fast and too far away for him to understand. It was all going on in his head, and he couldn’t filter it out.

James grasped his head in his hands and screamed until his throat was hoarse. He waited, feeling his exo bulge and pulsate against its constraints. He nudged a little harder, and was rewarded with the shriek of metal. The console near the front of the ship began to blink red. Red was never a good color. The warnings were always of bad things, things that were going wrong. James was that blinking light. He appeared in time only when something was going wrong. Just one more push and it’d all be over.