Time Salvager (Time Salvager #1)(95)

After they were done and he had double-checked their work, James yawned and walked up a rubble staircase, through the hollowed-out hull of a building down the block from the Farming Towers, and strolled through a small clearing surrounded by ancient skyscrapers with their tops broken off. He was looking forward to his bed; he hadn’t slept in it in over a week.

He walked by a small group of the tribe and waved. One of them, the youngest by the looks of him, waved back. Things were improving daily with them, and as much as James hated to admit it, he wanted their approval. He was tired of being someone most people were wary of.

“Are you there, my friend?” Smitt’s voice interrupted his walk. “I have the aftereffect report.”

“Give it a go, Smitt. Any ripples from the Hyperion job?” he asked.

“A modest one. TI sensors detected strange energy signatures from your jump in. They thought it might have been a probe. The depot heightened security because of your intrusion, which made the surprise attack by the Divinities nine hours later not so much of a surprise attack. Ended with an additional two Divinity attack ships destroyed and an extra thirty casualties.”

“Ouch. That’s messy.”

“The time line managed to self-heal six years later when the entire Divinity base off of Titan was destroyed.

“What about present blips?”

“ChronoCom outpost on Titan reported an unauthorized jump,” said Smitt. “I ran the delays and bought you some time, but they were less than a day off from tagging you. Listen, James, you are starting to cut it really close. They’re on to you. You need to cut back on these jaunts.”

“Just keep me a step ahead of them,” James thought back.

Smitt was right, though. He had been helping James and Grace plan these jumps, making sure they happened when ChronoCom either wasn’t in a position to respond or when they could mask the jump. Either way, there was only so much he could do before the agency wised up. James’s contribution to the tribe as a salvager would expire once he was caught or, worse yet, tracked back to their location.

“I’m serious,” Smitt insisted. “You guys have to cut back, or at least lay low better, especially on Earth. Your Asia decoy only worked for the first week, as did your jig in the Mediterranean. It’s only going to be a matter of time before they realize you never left the region.”

“Make sure they don’t,” James said. “Or at least give us an early enough warning.”

“Look, James, I’ve scanned your area. You have enough going on there that it’s starting to breed significant energy readings. It’s bound to attract attention.”

James looked around the open space, or the town square, as Elise liked to refer to it. It was a lot busier than when he last left it. There were several machines running and he saw over a dozen small fires burning in barrel drums. And while some netting might help cover some of the light, it was just a matter of time before they were discovered.

“What else can we do? The tribe is getting larger. Our energy use is only going to grow.”

“I’ve been researching your problem. What do you think about the mid-twenty-third century?”

James made a face. “I think the Publicae Age was a period of fascist cesspools and a death trap for any chronman.”

“I hear ya. You didn’t do too well during your five jumps back, but that time period was the peak of neural and cloaking technology. What do you think about going back and recovering a stealth hood?”

“I’d think you’re trying to get me killed, Smitt.”

“While that would solve many of my problems, my friend, I think it’s the best solution to your little village’s issues. Want to talk it over?”

James cursed. He avoided the mid-twenty-third century for good reason. But if it meant ensuring Elise’s safety, he said he’d do anything. “I hate your idea already, but all right, let’s hear it out.” He sighed. He pulled out a bottle of wine he had pilfered from one of the storage lockers at the TI base and settled in for the bad news.





THIRTY-SEVEN

PUZZLE PIECES

There was a knock on the mushy plastered wall next to the doorway of Elise’s lab. She looked up and brightened when James strolled in. His popping up at her door unannounced brought that familiar fluttering in her chest and made her face feel flush. She had been so immersed in her work lately that she was no longer even attending evening meals with the rest of the Elfreth. Rima had taken to bringing up food for her and Grace every night.

She missed evenings around the campfire. That was when the tribe bonded, and it felt a bit like Thanksgiving every night. It was also the only quality time she spent with James. She missed him most of all, but her work was too important now.

Grace, sitting at a workstation across from her, rolled her eyes and chuckled. “I’ll let you have him today, lamb.”

“Thanks, Grandma. I promise to bring him back in one piece,” Elise answered sweetly.

The two of them had gotten off to a rocky start: Grace initially demanded to be addressed as the Mother of Time or High Scion. Elise responded by telling her new assistant that Gaia would wither and die before she called Grace that. Then Grace tried treating Elise like her assistant. When Elise reminded her who was actually in charge, the tension in the lab became thick as molasses. The final outrage was when the so-called Mother of Time tried to steal Rima away from her.