Chapter 7
Just for a moment I stood there in silence,
Shocked by the foul evil deed I had done.
Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there;
I had but one chance and that was to run.
- Marty Robbins (El Paso)
=/\=
The trip to 1960 Italy took a while in the HG Wells. It wasn't the fastest of the time ships, but it was more than adequate for their purposes.
Rick was wearing a suit for the period, with narrow lapels. His tie, also narrow, was currently off. He also had a fedora, but he wasn't wearing it, either, and it sat on the time ship's console.
Sheilagh had on a pair of side-zip capri pants, flats and a lipstick pink boatneck top with three-quarter sleeves. There was also a peach chiffon scarf to complete the ensemble, but it, too, was off. Her blonde hair was colored a bit darker, to a kind of honey tone, and fell in loose waves just below her shoulders.
"That's a good look for you," he said.
"Thanks. You, uh, you look like, I dunno, like you're in sales."
"Are you interested in buying any insurance?"
"Only if I can wear your hat," she said, trying it on for size.
"Don't cover the hair," he said, "Trust me on that," he gently took the fedora off her and placed it to the side.
"But Crystal said I'm supposed to wrap the scarf around and then kinda flip the ends back over one shoulder."
"Huh?"
"Oh, and with these!" she took out a pair of oversized sunglasses, and then wrapped the scarf on her head as she'd described.
"Very chic."
"I feel a little silly. Still, it's a vacation. I guess I'm entitled to feel silly."
"And act that way, if you like," he said, "Uh, take the controls for a sec, willya?"
"Sure," The instrument panel said 2907.
He went into the back and then emerged a few minutes later, carrying a wallet. "You have a purse, right?"
"Over there," she pointed. It was a black frame bag with a small handle.
He opened it. "I'm gonna give you, uh, a quarter of the money. Don't wave it around and don't go around talking about it too much."
"Shouldn't you be giving me half of it?"
"If we were in, uh, maybe 1967 or later, then sure. But I was reading up about this time period. I'm supposed to pay for pretty much everything. I'm also supposed to open doors for you. If you were smoking, I'd be lighting your cigarette, too."
"Ugh," she said, "Whatever did people see in tobacco?"
"It was a stimulant."
"Then they should've drunk coffee or something. Lung cancer was a horrible way to go until it was cured, in 2065."
"No argument here. Ah, look, it's 2700."
"Something special about that date?" she asked.
"Not a thing. But I think whatever Kevin and his minions did most recently, it made the Wells faster."
"That's good."
"You looking forward to getting Fluxy?"
"I still feel weird about the whole thing."
"Well, it is weird," he admitted. "Our brains really aren't wired for time travel."
"It's the knowing that things could've been different – and exactly how they could've been different – that really gets to me," she said, "But Marisol and Tom also had their first trips into the past when I did. Why didn't either of them have such a cosmic freak out?"
"The week is still young, Sheilagh. I bet we'll see a cosmic freak out from each of them, sooner or later."
=/\=
The Perfectionists' leader didn't waste any time. A call was initiated. "Let's create a diversion. I need a change that will be good for us if it sticks. And let's make it musical again."
"Yes, we'll keep them on that wild goose chase," Replied an Agent. "Aha!" After a few moments of a pause, and a PADD was consulted.
"Something promising?" asked the leader.
"Most definitely," Replied that Agent, "let's go with December eighth of 1980."
"It fits in with my favorite time period rather neatly. Tell me more."
"A singer, preaching peace, is, instead, shot and killed," A pause. "The name is, um, it's John Lennon."
"What's the location?"
"New York City."
The leader set the controls on the Temporal Enzymatic Drive. "Ready?"
"I've swallowed the dose of trichronium," Replied that Agent.
"Good," Replied the Perfectionists' leader. "Get right on it."
=/\=
Otra and HD were sitting in her office, still working on the music project. "I bet we could load play lists, too," he said.
"Perhaps," she allowed. "But what would –?" she wasn't able to complete her sentence, asking him what that would teach them, as she was smacked with a vision.
"Otra?" he got up, alarmed. He engaged his implanted Communicator. "Yarin! Marisol! I think Otra's having some kind of a fit."
Boris answered, rushing in. "What's the matter?"
"It's a vision," Otra said, "It's incoherent, but something's definitely been changed."
"I'll see if Marisol can confirm," Boris said. He engaged his own implanted Communicator, but she failed to answer.
HD, a bit alarmed, fired up his Communicator again. "Carmen? Yeah, uh, Otra sees something."
"Dammit!" Carmen exclaimed. She tapped her left ear a few times and bellowed. "Team! Conference Room six! On the double!"
Kevin, Levi and Deirdre dropped what they were doing – testing relays on the Audrey II – and ran over. Crystal and Tom came in from the cafeteria. HD and Boris got Otra there – she was still a bit shaken. Carmen came in last. "Are we all here?" she asked.
"No, Doctor Castillo is – I don't know where she is," Boris said.
"She was going to try a new vegan place on Berren Five," Crystal said.
"Oh," Boris said. She hadn't told him that.
"Plus Rick and Sheilagh are in transit, right?" Tom drawled. "What's up?"
"They probably haven't arrived yet," Carmen said, "So I suspect, whoever messed with the timeline is one of our friends on the other side. Otra?"
"I keep seeing – I know this is strange – but I'm seeing street signs changing?" Otra inquired.
"Street signs?" Crystal asked.
"Yes, it's also, it's changed records all over the place," Otra said, "A couple of planets, a bunch of, of schools and towns. I can't put my finger on it yet."
Carmen engaged her Communicator. "Calavicci to Castillo," There was no answer. "Where'd you say she went?" she asked Crystal.
"Berren Five."
Boris tapped, fast and furious, on his PADD. His face fell. "It's – look for yourselves," he projected a picture onto the wall of the conference room. The planet was a mere shadow of itself – airless and pockmarked with impact craters; it was utterly incapable of supporting life.
"Looks like it was never terraformed," Kevin offered.
"But she's got the same temporal force field around her that we all do!" Boris was looking a tad panicky. "Any changes shouldn't have affected her!"
Deirdre looked at him a little strangely. "Well, if she was on Berren Five when it happened, would that have killed her?"
"No!" Boris thundered, suddenly one hundred percent Klingon in his ardor. "She can't be dead!"
"Let's not, let's, uh," Carmen was a bit surprised at the depth of his reaction, "let's not jump to any hasty conclusions. Perhaps she was thrown out of Communicator range, or something."
Levi looked up. "Uh, is this the change you're seeing?" he had a picture up, on his PADD, of a school for troubled teens. The sign said The Robinson Academy at Oberon.
"Pull up the master, HD," Carmen commanded.
He did so. "Well lookee what we have here," he pulled up a nearly-identical picture, except this time the school's sign read The Archer Academy at Oberon.
"Kevin, go look up the launch of the old NX-01," Carmen said.
"That's it," he said, "The first Captain of a starship called Enterprise isn't Jonathan Archer at all. It's AG Robinson."
"But the change is earlier," Otra insisted. "It's, uh, it feels like it's less than two hundred years earlier."
"Then it's most likely it took place on Earth," Carmen concluded.
Boris began to pace, a bit frantic. "What the hell does this have to do with Marisol?"
"We don't know yet," Deirdre said, "Just, try to calm down. You're making me nervous."
"But –"
"Boris, sit," Carmen thundered.
=/\=
Marisol couldn't be found, but it wasn't due to the changes wrought by her co-conspirator. Instead, she, too, had swallowed a dose of trichronium and had been whisked away to Naples in 1960. Her outfit wasn't appropriate, but she didn't care, as she ambushed an unsuspecting lone female, twisted a neck, and took what she needed without remorse.
=/\=
Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran,
Out where the horses were tied.
I caught a good one.
It looked like it could run.
Up on its back
And away I did ride,
- Marty Robbins (El Paso)
