Time Salvager (Time Salvager #1)(70)

TWENTY-SIX

AUTHORITY

Levin tapped his foot impatiently as the search team returned from the Mediterranean Sea. The agency had detected an illegal jump in that vicinity and dispatched the team to investigate hours ago. Unauthorized jumps were rare, since they were serious offenses. There usually weren’t more than two to three dozen a year within the entire solar system, and most were caused by chronmen.

At first, Levin had immediately suspected that it was James, possibly fleeing to some time in the past where he hoped to escape from justice. That’s what most fugitive chronmen did. However, hiding in the past was dangerous, since any ripples in the chronostream caused by the time traveler could be detected by the agency. No, hiding in the present usually was the smartest way to stay under the radar.

What was even more surprising to Levin was the fact that the monitors detected a return jump as well only a few hours later. It must have been a very short trip back to the past for the culprit. That would mean whoever it was—Levin hadn’t ruled out James yet—wasn’t trying to hide in the past but had dropped in for a quick salvage. The mystery deepened.

Standing on the roof of the building of the skyscraper ChronoCom had converted into an outpost, he paced back and forth as the search team’s collie landed on the roof. He nodded as they filed out, saluting him as they passed by to go down into the building. All the men were accounted for.

Levin had learned from his former mentor early on to always receive your men when they returned. “If you’re willing to send men out on a dangerous mission, be willing to see them home,” Landon had said. A young Levin had taken that to heart, even if Landon had fallen from his once noble ways.

Several of the savages and settlers who scrounged a living in these wastelands had confirmed sightings of James recently; his hideous collie was easily distinguishable from the rest of the ChronoCom fleet. Any monitor who crossed his path would be hard-pressed to survive the encounter. To be fair, it was not completely unexpected. Regardless of his mental state, James was a skilled chronman. He had been put on the short list multiple times to be raised to the chain. His downfall at every review was his temperament and mental instability. This recent violation of the Time Law only proved that denying him the auditorship was the right decision.

The sun had just disappeared along the western horizon. Levin waited until he was the last one on the roof before heading downstairs as well. Tomorrow, the search would continue. He was about to walk inside when he saw a glimmer of light. It shot across the night sky and turned abruptly. He watched as it grew larger and larger. A ship. Not ChronoCom, by its exhaust signature; agency collies used an older, atomic-spark propulsion system that emitted a whitish-yellow trail. It was a reliable, if not slightly inefficient design that had been used since the twenty-third century. This moving light had a blue tail, and moved with a smaller signature.

“See it?” Levin thought to the night watch.

“Yes, Auditor,” Jerkis, the monitor on duty, answered. “Hailing for rights.”

“One of ours?”

“Just received ChronoCom codes. Valta signature. Valkyrie class attack ship.”

Levin sighed. Corporate bureaucracy was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Levin had hoped to ditch Kuo behind at Earth Central when he began to hunt for clues of James’s whereabouts. It seemed she’d found her own ride.

The last thing he needed was interference and delays from soft off-worlders who didn’t know how Earth’s delicate global community operated. There were different rules down here in the wilds than up there in space.

“Confirm with the director on this ship,” Levin said.

“The planetary director had just contacted us about the Valta contingent,” Jerkis said.

Valta’s contributions to the agency were significant, and with their investment into ChronoCom came influence. Levin was pretty sure his job was about to become much more difficult.

He waited alone on the roof of the building as the sleek Valta ship, looking like it had just left the space dock, came to a hover over the roof. Protocol would warrant that he should call up his senior officers to greet the Valta contingent, but in this case, Levin was going to allow his men the rest they deserved. He watched the ship land and come to a rest in near silence. The blue glow of the ship powered down with a low hum and then the hatch lowered.

Levin noted at least nine pieces of technology that were more advanced than anything ChronoCom used just by eyeing that landing. He wondered about their weapons and shields as well. What else was Valta keeping from everyone else? The corporations were holding out on the agency. He recognized Sourn first, walking in what looked like a deep-space mining suit, complete with placement thrusters and high-rad shielding. And like the ship, the suit looked brand new. The off-worlder must be really worried about his exposure to Earth’s toxic atmosphere. Levin’s face turned to a grimace when he saw another person follow the Valta liaison down the ramp.

“Auditor,” Sourn said, maneuvering awkwardly in his giant suit, “how goes the manhunt?”

“It goes.” Levin bowed. “Tracking an elite operative is much like putting together a complex puzzle.”

“I’m sure you’re very familiar with Securitate Kuo by now.” Sourn gestured. “Could we speak inside? I find these wide open spaces disquieting.”

“Welcome to Frankfurt, Liaison.” Levin gestured toward the door leading downstairs. “Please, this way. You’ll find the atmospheric conditions downstairs well within off-world survival parameters.” A poor jest, but one that would probably calm Sourn’s fears. The conditions downstairs were no different from those on the roof. The space was just more enclosed.