Chapter 10: A Time to Consider
Luke Johnson's face appeared in the monitor, looking thoughtful. He noticed the change in the screen before him and looked up. "Rip, finally! I believe you have made the same discovery as I. I called as soon as Gene and I worked it out, but your AI said there was a briefing taking place."
"Explain to me again why Time Masters are so determined to work alone?" Sara quipped, rolling her eyes and moving out of Rip's way.
"Ah, your guard dog, I believe," grinned Luke. "I didn't recognise you from a safe distance."
Sara ignored the 'that's debatable' she heard Rip mutter at Luke's first comment to turn on the latter at his second. "Aw, there's no such thing," she smiled sweetly. "You just get a head start on the chase."
"And I'm sure I'll require every second of it," grinned Johnson.
""Yes, be that as it may," interrupted Rip, raising a hand to cut in, "we came back here expecting to be attacked, not to find our enemies had beaten us to it, Obviously, we now have a choice to make."
"Indeed, agreed Luke, his eyes still on the woman in white. "It is possible that Captain Baxter survived the attack on the Acheron and is in need of rescuing. According to Gene's, and Gideon's or course, findings, I do not believe a single ship should undertake this mission."
"On the other hand," Rip continued, "the reason for our return here is still valid. Rebuilding the Oculus, now more than ever, even simply as a viewing point, will help us immensely."
"After this length of time, I don't see how we could find Captain Baxter without it," nodded Luke.
"If I may, Captains, interrupted Professor Stein from the holotable. "I do not believe tracking down Captain Baxter will be quite the Herculean labour you seem to expect."
Rip turned to face the Martin, the rest of the team doing likewise. "How so, Professor?
"Well," began Stein, entering what both his better half and his younger half called his university lecturer mode, "I believe that the antagonists in this situation were not merely Time Pirates, looking for plunder. They showed up, whoever they are, right after the Acheron, only attacked the Acheron, and left immediately after returning to their vessel. They made no attempt to salvage, or further destroy, the remains of the Vanishing Point. They were not here for that. They were here specifically for the Acheron. If we can identify the reason for that, perhaps we can use it to extrapolate their next move. Is there any reason either of you gentlemen can think of for such a targeted attack? Other than the specific capture of Captain Baxter?"
Luke and Rip shared a glance, each shrugging and shaking their head.
"The time drive and its data, perhaps," suggested Rip. "But that isn't specific to the Acheron, merely the Time Masters."
"Would there be anything unique about the data held in the Acheron?" Stein pressed.
"Not that I can think of," frowned Rip, running a hand through his hair. "It was perhaps more up to date than others, but by far not the most."
"Who would have the most up to date timestream information?" Martin continued.
Rip frowned and scratched his jaw. "Well, I suppose that would be the ships that were present during the final moments of the base, and the Oculus, but they were all destroyed..."
"Were they?" Professor Stein cut in, a pointed look at his pupil.
Rip looked blankly back, shaking his head with a shrug.
"I believe I can answer your inquiry, Professor Stein," chimed Gideon's voice from above.
"I feel certain that you can, my dear," replied Martin, smiling up at the ceiling.
"The only ship that currently carries the most up to date timestream information," continued the computer, "is this one. I downloaded everything from the Vanishing Point computer systems. I also downloaded the unique identities of each of the artificial intelligence's in the ships I scuppered."
"That must be quite the party you got hidin' away in there," chortled Mick. "Looks like you can teach an old AI new tricks!"
"Chronologically, Mister Rory, I believe your current lifespan to be considerably greater than mine."
"Huh?" Mick looked to Ray and Sara on either side of him. Ray was looking away, desperately trying to hide the grin that was forcing its way onto his face.
"She means 'less of the old, old man'," translated Sara, unashamedly making no attempt to hide the grin that was flourishing across her own.
"Let me get this straight," said Rip, waving a hand at Sara and Mick then, catching a very sharply pointed glare from the former, at Professor Stein. "Your theory is that the Time Pirates attacked the Acheron because they thought it was the Waverider? Surely they know better?"
"Not quite, Captain," replied the Professor, raising a hand of his own, "My theory, hypothesis really, if you will, is that they, whoever they are, attacked the Acheron, kidnapping Captain Baxter in the process, to lure in us. The Waverider. You."
"Wait," Ray held up both hands, just to be on the safe side. "They? Whoever they are? Professor, who else would do this but Time Pirates? Surely you can't think there's another group out there on the hunt for us?"
"I neither suggest nor assume anything, Raymond," pointed out Stein. "I merely form my conclusions, as far as the evidence will allow, and use those to build hypotheses that can be tested scientifically. Just as I taught my students to do in class."
"And how do you propose we 'scientifically test' this?" Rip asked.
"Surely that is obvious, Rip," cut in Luke from the monitor. "I stay here, continue with the primary mission to re-harness the wellspring. You go after Eve."
Rip looked from Martin to Luke and back. The Professor gave a shrug and nodded. Rip sighed wearily and looked down at the holotable.
"You can't stay here alone, Luke," he decided, finally. "If they come back, you need to be able to put up a fight. At least enough of one to get away."
"Time Captains have always worked alone, Rip," Luke reminded him.
"I don't," Hunter muttered. "Eve did and look where it got her."
"Then what do you suggest?" Luke shrugged. "We only have two ships."
"But we do have eight crew," murmured Rip, dragging a hand over his eyes. "And we have two jump ships. I suggest we stick to the teams I had previously planned to use, with one minor alteration, leaving one here to work on the rebuild and taking the other to track down our mysterious adversaries."
"You're splittin' the team?" Mick frowned. "Sure that's your best move, boss?"
"It's the best we've got in the circumstances," interjected Sara, catching Rip's eye as he looked round. "And the teams themselves make the most sense too."
"And amazingly I am not surprised at the one person who seems to know your mind, Hunter," sing-songed Luke, his features regaining some of the icy distance they had seen in Amiens.
Eyes still locked, Sara saw Rip's jaw tighten. She wasn't the only one.
"Sara's right, Captain," nodded Ray, "those teams definitely make the most sense."
"I concur," added Stein hurriedly.
Silence fell, all eyes on the captain. He turned slowly, looking over his assembled crew with a thoughtful, perhaps grateful, expression.
"Then I'll send your new crew-mates over momentarily," he announced, false cheer filling the face that returned to the monitor. "Please prepare to receive them. Gideon, end transmission."
The monitor went unceremoniously blank.
"What teams?" Amaya demanded.
XXXX
Leonard withdrew from the balcony, the crowd below chanting his Egyptian moniker: Herakhty, Horus of the Sunrise. The girl had been lifted up, reverently he observed, and borne away into the depths of the temple. He made a mental note to ask Meryatum about it later.
On the bed there lay several items for his perusal. They were items of clothing, of varying degrees of formality, and his faithful servant had explained each one as he laid it out. The gold and turquoise pectoral was a must, apparently, and he was glad he hadn't let his recent run of apotheotic luck dissuade him from keeping in shape. If he had, he might have found the weight of that golden collar on his shoulders bending him out of whatever shape was left. The craftily hinged and delicately detailed feathers of the wings of the falcon spread out to encircle the wearer's neck, each inlaid in the vivid blue of turquoise and the marbled red and brown of a stone Leonard thought he had once heard called carnelian. The head of the falcon protruded upwards in the centre of the collar. The golden countenance would rest at the base of his throat, Meryatum had pointed out, so that the voice of Horus might flow the truer through him. He wondered, as idly as any career criminal might, how much such a piece would fetch on the black market in twenty sixteen. It wasn't the only treasure either. The bed lay adorned in rings, amulets, bracelets, bangles and belts, all carefully constructed witnesses to the craftsmanship of the age. Gold glistered up at him, its light evolving in the myriad of blue glassware and translucent gemstones encrusting it, and reaching him as something wholly more alive. More real. Ironic, really, he pondered, considering how the next place he, or any of the people he had left behind, might see them would be in the exhibitions of funerary and grave goods perennially on display at museums around the globe.
Unless, of course, he made sure otherwise.
He had already established his ability to move things through the timeline with him. He would gladly give up a worn out sweater and scuffed pair of skinny jeans for a haul like this. He would be needing something to wrap them in, though. A noise by the door brought his attention to it before it opened. When Meryatum walked into the room, he was faced with the pectoral clad form of Herakhty standing straight and tall before him, staring him down before his eyes were even around the edge of the door.
XXXX
Persuading his crew to divide into the pairs he had suggested to Sara earlier did not go as badly as Rip Hunter had expected. Ray and Martin had already assented, even without knowledge of the captain's choices, and thus were more inclined to listen to his reasons before arguing against them. Mercifully they saw the method in his madness and made a few moves to mollify the malcontents. Everyone agreed the need for both a scientist and a mechanic on the team tasked with engineering a new, less dangerous, Oculus, but there was some argument over not placing the team's top engineer in that group. After some discussions referring to eggs and baskets, and teachers and pupils, it was decided that Martin and Jax would manage just fine without Doctor Palmer's input.
Unsurprisingly, to some, Amaya was the one to prove the most recalcitrant. Mick had argued his own case as only Mick could, but ultimately he trusted his team, and when Sara, Ray, Stein and Rip all took one side, he followed. Amaya didn't.
"You cannot effectively fight on two fronts, Hunter," she asserted. "Not with this team. There are not enough. If the Endeavour is attacked, I can use my powers to defend it, but the boy and the old man cannot."
"Hey!" Jax complained from the far side of the holotable.
Rip help up a hand to him, his eyes now fixed on Amaya. "Mister Jefferson and Professor Stein are much more than merely their powers. They have proven as much time and again on this very vessel. Not to mention on others and out in the field. Raise your hand, anyone in this room that has single-handedly infiltrated a top secret Russian facility at the height of the cold war, without backup."
Rip stepped aside, giving his newest team member a clear view of the others. Only one had a hand raised.
"Crossed a battlefield weaponless and under fire?" Rip hazarded.
This time, five hands went up. Amaya raised an eyebrow at him, and a hand.
"Yes, okay, granted, we've all been there," he sighed. "But who here has, again, single-handedly, taken down a team of Time Pirates!"
Once again, Stein's was the only hand raised.
"Admittedly, they were somewhat depleted in number at the time," Martin began, "and..."
"And he had to take time out to rescue myself, Mister Jefferson and indeed Captain Baxter," interrupted Rip," whose ship was, at the time, the very one in peril."
Amaya folded her arms and raised her chin. "Very well. I shall endeavour to protect your colleague in this enterprise, but if he is anything like his foster brother, I bear no responsibility for any disaster his actions lead us into."
"Capital! As gracious in defeat as always, I see," blustered Rip, striding around to the top of the holotable again. "Now, if you, Madame, would accompany Mister Jefferson and Professor Stein to the jump ship. Mister Rory, if you wouldn't mind making a fourth just to fly the ship back once they are safely aboard the Endeavour. Mister Palmer, Miss Lance and I will attempt to ascertain our next set of co-ordinates."
Vixen followed Firestorm out of the room, her nose still in the air. Mick glared at Hunter through narrowed eyes for a moment, then followed.
"Actually, I have something I've been working on that might help," offered Ray, already wearing the base layer of his supersuit. "Let me just grab my notes."
"Well that went well," commented Sara, leaning back against the holotable beside Rip.
"Yes, it's amazing what a perceived insult will do for team cohesiveness," quipped the captain. "And, Miss Lance, if you could please stop flirting with my brother. It is somewhat... disconcerting."
Sara laughed and leant close to his ear, her voice dropping to an amused whisper. "Foster brother."