Chapter 36

The first thing Nathan noticed was that it was no longer dark. He hadn't seen his cabin or indeed any part of the boat in daylight yet, so the bright light and the fact that he had been so deeply asleep made him feel disoriented. Still, he'd been in the Navy long enough that he could dress in under a minute. Lucas propped himself on the top bunk, rubbing his eyes quickly. He didn't look like he planned to roll over and go back to sleep.

Nathan pointed his index finger at him and spoke in a serious tone. "I'm not going to force you to stay in bed, but would you please go down to the hull with Darwin? I don't want you up on deck until I know it's safe."

The kid started to open his mouth to object and Nathan mentally prepared his rebuttal, but Lucas met his eyes and abruptly shut his mouth and nodded. He was either scared out of his wits or he'd finally gained enough maturity to realize this wasn't the time to argue.

"Lock the door and stay out of sight until someone you recognize says it's safe. If you hear any sign of struggle, take a rebreather and swim to the shuttle. They're better equipped to resist boarding and get you out of here." He didn't even know if MR-3 had gone through the Hole with them, but underwater with a dolphin was still a better tactical position.

"I'm not leaving without you!"

Nathan grabbed his shoulders and forced the teen to face him. "I don't want to go anywhere without you either, but someone is going to have to rescue our butts if we get captured again. I'm counting on you." And O'Neill. And Piccolo.

Lucas swallowed hard. "I won't let you down."

"Good." The captain finished tying his last shoe and dashed out the door. On deck, the sun was high in the sky and Nathan squinted against its brightness. He took a deep breath to hide his panic. Military training kicked in and it showed in his calm voice. "Status report, Commander?"

Ford started rattling off facts. "GPS is back. We're in the English channel."

"Did the shuttle come through with us?"

"Yes, already spoken to O'Neill. He got a fix on the Naval Observatory. It's 16 August, 2165, 1312 hours Zulu."

"SeaQuest?"

"No response. Not tracking, even on her classified marker frequency."

The captain tried to keep his face neutral. They'd been safe this long in the Black Sea. He had to concentrate on the crew who were with him on the skyQuest and the MR-3.

"Captain," Ortiz called from the bridge, "I've got a Trafalgar-class submarine closing on MR-3."

"Trafalgar? Those are pretty old, even in our day," Ford observed quietly.

Bridger nodded but he didn't have time to comment before Ortiz broke in again. "They're hailing us."

"On my way," Bridger said. He figured he'd best speak in person, so he headed for the bridge. Ford caught his shoulder and pointed out on the north horizon. Two flying objects were headed toward them. Jet copters. He nodded to Ford that he'd seen them. "Let's hope we're allies in this time. Take down the sails and cut engines. Tell MR-3 full stop."

"Aye, sir."

Bridger entered the enclosed room and tapped Ortiz on the shoulder. "Put me on."

A four-inch vid-screen on the console showed a young Royal Navy lieutenant. "This is HMS Triumph. You are in restricted waters. Please identify."

"This is Captain Nathan Bridger of the UEO Navy. I am aboard the trimaran skyQuest, sailing directly above the shuttle launch MR-3, also under my command."

"There is no UEO anymore, and none of our records show the UEO ever commissioned sailboats. You're in a lot of trouble, so make things easier on yourself and tell the truth."

"I realize this is hard to believe, but our presence here is an accident and we apologize for violating your territorial waters. Surely you can verify that we are not taking a defensive posture. We will leave immediately if you tell us what heading to take."

A much older man appeared behind the lieutenant and nudged him aside. He wore Royal Navy commander's insignia. "Who did you say you were again?"

Bridger paid a respectful nod. "Captain Nathan Bridger of the United Earth Oceans Organization. We're victims of a time travel accident."

The elderly man's eyes lit up. "Bridger? Captain of the seaQuest? How can I be sure?"

"Ask me something that isn't in the history books. Just make it before 2019."

"If it's not in the history, then how would I know?"

"Some of our best officers came from the Royal Navy. You should have access to classified records that didn't get reported to the general public."

"Anything that far back has been de-classified by now."

Bridger sighed. "I don't know how to prove it to your satisfaction, Commander. You may as well arrest us all now." He had to admit, he would have sent a boarding party if their places were reversed. At least no one from home would hear about this embarrassment.

The commander's brows furrowed. "If you really are who you say you are, then I don't want to do that. Will you allow us to escort you to Devonport?"

Captain Bridger inclined his head. "I thank you for the courtesy. It's still in Plymouth, I trust. Are the jet copters with you, or do I need to contact the RAF and beg them not to blow us out of the water?" Nathan still hadn't overcome his distrust of pilots after the Fifi incident.

"They've scanned your vessels and confirmed absence of weapons and your limited propulsion. They're going to leave you to us."

"Again, I thank you, Commander…?"

"Hamilton. Charles Hamilton." His lieutenant leaned to whisper in his superior's ear. Hamilton raised his forefinger toward the screen and Bridger waited patiently. The commander frowned and shook his head. He turned back to the vid-link with an apologetic smile. "Captain, I've been compelled to ask whether you might be harboring the temporal fugitive, François Beauregard, aboard either of your vessels."

"If I was abetting him, it would only be because he'd be holding a knife to one of my crew's throat. But he's dead. We do have one of his associates in our custody—a native of fifteenth century France."

"Beauregard is dead? You're certain?"

No reaction to his claim of having a prisoner from the fifteenth century? He had to hope this meant that time travel was more commonplace in this place and time than in his own. "I materialized a wall inside his body and my chief medical officer declared him dead in my presence. We buried the remains on If Isle, off the coast of Marseille, roughly 700 years ago."

The commander grinned. "I hope you're telling me the truth, Captain. If so, you're an even bigger hero than history has made you out. Unfortunately, the Temporal Guardian Agency won't take anyone's word for it, since his M.H. initiator signature was detected on your arrival and he's eluded them several times before."

"Believe me, I can understand any precaution you need to take regarding that madman. So does this mean you'll be boarding us after all?"

"No. As far as I'm concerned, you're our guests. Just be warned that the reception you'll get when you dock will be less… trustful."

Bridger smirked. "No red carpet. Understood, Commander."

"This probably means they'll whisk you off to TGA headquarters in Oxford. I'm sorry if I don't get a chance to meet you."

"I'm sorry as well. SkyQuest out."

Nathan lifted his PAL to his lips. "Lucas, can you hear me?"

The teen's voice was a mixture of apprehension and annoyance. "I'm in the hull with Darwin, just like you asked."

"You can come out now. Do you think you can figure out how we got here? Some sort of time cops are going to be asking a lot of questions."

"Where are we?"

"English Channel. August 2165."

"I'm on it."

Ortiz turned around. "I think I may have a clue what happened, sir."

It wasn't like the sensor chief to have tinkered with anything set strictly off-limits, especially when he was on duty. Nathan raised a brow and waited for his explanation.

"The seas got pretty rough and something fell off the shelf behind me at exactly the same time as we hit a blue light and turbulence. I'm guessing whatever it was hit the 'on' button when it landed."

The captain turned to survey the area behind them. One large cube of metal on the floor matched an empty spot on the shelf. "That's probably our culprit then. Good work, Chief."

He nodded. "If we're going to carry all this stuff much longer, we really should figure out how to batten down the hatches."

Nathan chuckled. "Let's hope these temporal guardians will help us get home and we won't need all this stuff." He left Miguel in the bridge and returned to the upper deck.

Commander Ford searched his face. "Well?"

"The HMS Triumph is escorting us to Devonport. Commander Hamilton had every right to board us and he refrained out of professional courtesy. However, once we dock, the time travel bobbies are probably going to greet us with extreme prejudice."

The commander's normally cool expression turned to wide-eyed surprise but he didn't speak.

Nathan explained, "Evidently, they have some sort of tracer on the device that got us here and it belongs to a 'temporal fugitive' who's given them a lot of trouble."

Ford nodded. "The Frenchman."

"We are going to cooperate in every way possible."

"Every way?"

"Yes, Commander. Every way. Our own instruments tell us this is 140 years in our future. We don't have any secrets they could possibly want. Unless you want to live out your days on a sailboat, sharing a cabin with Brody, and 140 years out of synch, we have to gain their trust and hope to God they can help us."

Ford cleared his throat. "What about the plague?"

Nathan had forgotten about that. He lowered his voice. "Do you remember what year that hits?"

"If we take the word of the CentSys computer from 2245, the plague will hit in 2185."

"Twenty years from now. Did we include the date when we reported our first Mobius Hole excursion?"

Ford shook his head in a deliberate fashion: once right, once left.

"Then I stand corrected, Commander. We do have a secret of value to them."

"Yes, sir."

"Let's keep that card up our sleeve for now. We'll play the wounded victims here."

Amusement played in Ford's eyes, but he didn't crack a smile. "Play? I don't know about you, but that isn't going to require any deception on my part."

"Yes, it will. Because if I slapped you on the back right now…" Nathan mimed the motion, but stopped short of contact. "…you'd hide how much it really hurts. I'm asking everyone to stifle their pride and allow the pain to show. Don't exaggerate it, just don't hide it either. We are the wounded party here and they need to see that."

"Understood, sir."

"Let's get underway with solar propulsion only. We don't want to threaten anyone with our tremendous speed if we set sails again."

Ford rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I bet those jet copters were really intimidated."

The captain smiled. "I'm going to talk to the crew. You have the conn."

"Aye, sir."

Bridger called O'Neill first. "We're accepting Triumph's kind escort to Devonport. Don't make any abrupt changes in course or speed. You can stand down from alert until MR-3 is docked. Leave all weapons inside when you come out and cooperate fully. Remember, we are trespassing and our excuse isn't very plausible. Don't give them any further justification to shoot you. I don't know if they'll separate us all or not, but I'm hoping we can convince them we're the victims."

"Understood, Captain."

"If we are separated for what seems an inordinate amount of time, I expect you, as my chief communications officer, to find a way to get in touch with us." He hoped Tim would figure out that he meant Transmitting to Wendy and that he'd refrain from questioning him about it over radio frequencies the Royal Navy was probably monitoring.

"Define 'inordinate', sir."

"Any longer than it takes to interrogate all twenty people aboard skyQuest. I've never doubted your discretion, Lieutenant. Use it."

"Aye, aye, Captain. Smooth sailing."

He couldn't suppress a chuckle. They used that expression all the time, but this was the first time he'd heard it while commanding an actual sailboat. "You too, Lieutenant. SkyQuest out."

A knock sounded at the door. Lucas's face was visible in the door's large window.

Bridger motioned him in. "Since when do you knock?"

The teen smirked. "Since when do you surrender?"

"Since someone left my submarine in the Black Sea, 700 years away."

Ortiz cleared his throat. "Not technically a surrender. We're just… visiting a friendly naval base."

The captain nodded to Ortiz, but he spoke with a heavy dose of irony. "Where they're going to tell us to come out with our hands up and then lead us into locked rooms where they'll drill us with questions. Lucas has a point."

Ortiz crossed his arms over his chest. "All I'm giving them is name, rank and serial number."

"You have my permission to answer their questions," Bridger reminded him.

"But I'm only under your command so long as I am free. If they restrict my freedom, then I am a prisoner with the right to answer them as such."

Bridger beamed with pride. "In our century. But how do you know the Geneva Convention hasn't been abolished in this time?"

Miguel just shrugged. He wasn't going to debate anyone. He'd made up his mind and Bridger respected that choice.

Lucas took up his cause. "If it's abolished, then won't our adherence to it prove our point? That we're from the past?"

"It's not proof, but I agree with his reasoning, Lucas. When our rules run out, we act on conscience and gut instincts. My gut tells me that anyone in authority on British soil is going to treat us better than our last captor."

Lucas chuckled. "So they'll give us tea and cakes before they hang us?"

Both Bridger and Ortiz laughed.

"Yeah, something like that," Bridger said. "I'm going down to talk to the rest of the crew." He pointed to the cube-shaped metal hunk of equipment on the floor. "Mr. Ortiz tells me that thing fell off the shelf at the same time as the Mobius Hole opened. Go ahead and look, but be careful what you touch. It's probably turned on."

The kid smirked. "What, not up for sailing the Nile with Cleopatra?"

Nathan wasn't about to let him have that one. "Nile yes, Cleopatra no. If you figure out how to work that thing, get us back to the time where we left seaQuest. Black Sea preferred, but any ocean will do."

Lucas knelt over the metal box. "Okay, no pleasure cruises."

Nathan left the bridge, muttering something about how much he didn't want to spend his last years building pyramids for Egyptian slavemasters.

One cabin at a time, he broke the news that they'd gone forward in time and were about to disembark at a naval base where they'd be facing questions. "I intend to tell them the truth and ask for their help. The UEO doesn't exist in this time, so we're on our own."

Most everyone appeared more upset for having their first decent night's sleep interrupted than at the prospect of being questioned.

Dagwood, however, seemed extremely nervous. "Will they lock me up for killing that man?"

"It was self-defense. I will tell them you did it to protect us. I can't promise they won't lock you up, but I will do everything I can to prevent it." He realized how hollow that sounded. The GELF had been convicted of murder once before when he hadn't hurt anyone at all and Nathan hadn't been very supportive that time. Dagwood didn't understand how to use silence as a right. It would just look like a cover-up. Nathan placed his hand on the wide shoulder. "You just tell the truth, okay?"

"Yes sir, Captain, sir." He didn't look any less nervous, but he had always been good at telling the truth. And even though he was a civilian, he'd never balked at even the slightest request of the command staff.

The ladies' cabin was next. Henderson heard the same speech he'd given the others before he dismissed her, but he asked Dr. Smith to join him when he spoke to Brody. To Kendall, he gave as much information as he'd given Ortiz, including what the sensor chief probably overheard when he talked to Hamilton. Kendall seemed surprised and genuinely thankful that they weren't being boarded. The engineer could downplay his makeshift sailboat all he wanted, but he did have a sense of pride in her.

After the captain gave the news to the enlisted men and scientists, he asked Brody and Smith to meet him in the hull. It was the only place they could all sit in the same room. They'd both already heard his speech, but he had a few things he needed to say that the rest of the crew didn't need to hear. Dagwood took the doctor down and left her there. Bridger and Brody waited until he came up so they didn't have to try passing the big guy in the narrow passages. The two officers went down directly after the GELF's return.

The sight of Darwin's tank gave Nathan pause. He wondered whether he should let the dolphin go before they reached Devonport, but he rejected the idea just as quickly. There was no telling whether the Atlantic had become more polluted over the last 140 years or whether fishing boats still practiced dolphin-safe netting. It was probably safer just to leave him on skyQuest and hope no one bothered their cetacean ensign.

"You two both went ashore when we visited the CentSys computer in 2245, so I wanted to ask you to withhold anything we didn't include in our official report when they question you."

"I thought we put everything in the report," Dr. Smith said.

"On the advice of the secretary general and two admirals, we conveniently forgot to mention that we heard any date for the plague that decimates the planet. They were concerned about it when it was still 160 years in the future. So you can well imagine how critical it is that we don't mention that it's only 20 years away."

Wendy shook her head. "You're right. The panic might kill tens of thousands."

Brody nodded.

Nathan paused just a second before continuing. "That isn't to say that I won't use it if I have to. If they know how to get us back but won't do it, I'll use the information as leverage."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" the doctor asked. Her eyes said she wanted to accuse him of breaching ethics, but she held her tongue.

"No. But my crew comes first. We don't belong in this time. We didn't come here by choice and if they won't help us get home, then we'd be in danger from this plague too. Maybe they can prepare better if they know."

She frowned. "If you really believed that, you'd tell them no matter what."

He hated it when she was right. "Then how about we agree to tell them, just hold it back a while until we're sure we don't need an ace in the hole?"

Wendy's flashed that accusatory eyebrow of hers. "A second ago, the information was ultra-classified because it would cause a dangerous panic."

He sighed and leaned back on the curved wall. "I was willing to keep my mouth shut when the plague was beyond my lifetime and my superiors ordered my silence. My superiors are all dead now and I'm just trying to get us all home. We have no way of knowing what the knowledge might do. These 'time cops' might keep it just as hushed as the UEO did."

Brody had been watching them argue ethics with growing frustration. "You two can fight over what to tell them and when. My superiors aren't dead yet, so I'm fine following your orders. Will there be anything else, sir?" Brody was a man of action, not a deep thinker. He wasn't mindless, but he knew when to let the intellectuals take over.

"No, Lieutenant. Sorry to drag you into our debate."

Brody shrugged and walked toward the exit. He would probably have the hardest time of anyone submitting to the custody of these Temporal Guardians without a weapon at his side, yet he hadn't argued that point either. But Bridger could tell that some measure of his youthful gusto was gone. With all that had happened, it was a wonder anyone was functioning at all.

"They could probably use your help up on deck, unless you'd rather stay in your cabin. You're off duty until we dock." The captain didn't think Brody would try to sleep, but he might not feel like butting heads with Ford just now. There really wasn't that much to do up there, but the sun and wind certainly felt good after their long months in that Frenchman's prison.

"I'll be on deck." He left and closed the door behind him.

Nathan turned back to Wendy. What he really wanted right now was Professor Martinson's holographic soundboard, but he couldn't have it. As a psychologist, she was the next best thing. "Well? Have I rationalized my way out of this yet?"

"Do you really need my approval?"

"No, but I want it."

"Why?"

"Because I think my own moral compass might be broken."

"Nathan, I've been inside your head, remember? You know what the biggest shock was?"

He wasn't sure he really wanted to know, but he couldn't very well ignore her. "What?"

She placed her hand on top of his. "That I didn't realize sooner how much you care about your crew. If you're doing mental gymnastics to justify what you will or won't say about future events that our interrogators can't possibly realize you even know about, then I have no doubt that it's only because you've been thrust into such an impossible situation that you have no choice. Let me tell you something you don't know: the men under your command haven't perceived the depth of your concern the same way I did, but they sense it in the way you act, the way your run your boat. They would follow you to hell and back, and they'd do it by choice, not because you're their commanding officer."

She paused for a breath, paying a short smile before she jumped back in. "I don't personally care whether you tell these people about the plague or not. Nor do I see anything wrong with using the knowledge as a bargaining chip. I just don't want you to regret it later because you didn't take time to consider. If you think it through and act as your conscience dictates, then I know you're making the right choice. I'm with Brody. I'm keeping quiet and letting my captain decide what's best for us because I trust his judgment."

"And to hell with the rest of the world?"

"We're supposed to be long dead when that plague happens. Every doctor alive will be looking for a cure and according to the news we heard, they all fail. It's not their fault any more than it would be ours, whether we say something or not."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Doctor."

"My pleasure, Captain."

He stood. "Oh, I sort of implied to O'Neill that he should try to Transmit to you if we were separated from the MR-3 crew for too long. Once we leave skyQuest, I'll never know whether we're being watched, so I wanted to tell you now while we had some measure of privacy."

"Thanks for the warning. I plan to keep all my senses open while we're under surveillance from these people. Depending on how hostile they are with us, I may be throwing my moral compass out and reading minds."

Nathan chuckled. "Not my empathic doctor, too?"

Wendy didn't speak, but her eyes clearly said, You'd better believe it.