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From: "M. Mitchell Marmel" <marmelmm@vrx.net>
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Subject: FUR: Repost: Hits And Missus [LONG]
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===================
Apropos of nothing at all, here's a bit of fiction y'all may recall,
reposted here for the benefit of anyone interested.
Enjoy!
Hits and Missus
A Tale of the Temporal Corps
by Matthew Mason, Major, Temporal Corps
as told to M. Mitchell Marmel
(c) 1992 M. Mitchell Marmel
All Rights Reserved
Reproduction of this story in any form whatsoever (electronic,
xerographic, photographic, etc.) without the express permission of the
author is forbidden. Excerpts may be printed for purposes of review
only.
"I can really rock and swing
'Cause I've got more of everything
Oh, Mister Earthman, will you marry me?"
-from a 1960's novelty record
Want to know what the trouble with time travel is?
All the damn amateurs.
It seems like every Tom, Dick and H.G. with a little knowledge of
temporal theory automatically thinks that they know what went wrong with
history. Naturally, they go gallivanting off to prove themselves right.
People like me? We go around picking up the pieces.
The name's Mason. I'm an enforcement agent-slash-troubleshooter for the
Temporal Corps, one of a multitude of agencies across the alternities
with the primary objective of keeping time (and history) flowing in the
proper direction.
It's an unfortunate truism that time travel, like any other
technological advance, can be used for good or bad. My job? Help see to
it that unwise use is kept to a absolute minimum and help correct any
abuses that do occur.
(All the above, of course, is largely irrelevant to this story. It
does, however, explain why I was on Steadman Bay Drive in a royally foul
mood that evening about five years of lifespan ago...and how I met my
future bride...)
***
There are certain events that attract would-be rewriters of history. For
example, TempCorps maintains a permanent squad with the sole job of
making sure some well-meaning idiot doesn't wreck history by
assassinating Adolph Hitler before his appointed time (off the record,
we DID let one deserving soul actually pull the trigger at Der Fuehrer's
apparent suicide. History ISN'T quite as permanent as you might think.)
I had just stopped the ninth time-traveling Beatles fan from preventing
John Lennon's murder. This one had tried a variation of the
"Grandfather Paradox"; I had kept her from spraying Mark Chapman's
father with a prophylactic aerosol. A trank dart had done the job
without fuss, and the perp (a researcher from an Ivy League school; no
need to name it) was taken into custody. After filling out the
paperwork, I was heading home for a well-deserved rest.
***
One thing you have to say about TempCorps, it buys only the best
equipment. Not new, mind you, but the best. This explains the car I'd
signed out of the pool, an "Unlimited Class" open roadster built by
Tatsunoko in the mid-1960's. It still has the big number 5 on its sides
from its racing days, and most of the devices in the big white car still
work when you push the buttons on the steering wheel. Naturally, this
delights the gadget-loving side of my personality, and I use my clout as
a Senior Enforcement Agent to make sure the car stays semi-reserved for
me when I'm in town. (If the Tatsunoko's signed out, I drive a modified
Aston Martin DB4 that TempCorps picked up from Glidrose Motors at about
the same time.) Tatsunoko builds 'em to last; the big white beast
requires little maintenance, which delights our overworked techs no end.
On the other hand, finding the bias-ply tires it needs causes
considerable headaches for Supply.
TempCorps' purchasing habits extend to personal weaponry; the modified
Walther P-38 I was wearing under my black sports jacket was elderly but
in excellent condition, and the detachable stock, extended magazine,
telescopic sight and extended barrel sitting in the briefcase on the
passenger seat still functioned perfectly.
***
A few notes about my current home alternity, which will remain unnamed
(for security reasons, you understand): It's odd, to say the least. The
place is a major interdimensional nexus; it also has the unnerving habit
of putting parts of itself into neighboring reality levels. The former
quality makes it an ideal location for a major TempCorps depot. The
latter quality can be somewhat disconcerting (not to mention out-and-out
dangerous) to the unwary.
***
In any event, I was motoring home along Steadman Bay Drive in the
aforementioned foul mood, cursing the stupidity of mankind in general
and the antics of Lennon Savior Number Nine in particular, when I
noticed the color of the sky darken and fade to stars over one of the
rougher sections of town a few miles away. A few seconds later, a flash
shone up from among the rooftops. Apparently, some spacer had gotten a
rude surprise when a section of the city materialized in front of it.
The dash mounted comm unit buzzed. The speaker emitted the cultured
British tones of Colonel Charles Grey, a former global security agency
commander who'd gotten bored with retirement and joined up with
TempCorps. "Base to Unit Two Seven."
Aw, shit. "Unit Two Seven here," I sighed. "Yeah, I saw it."
"Unit Two Seven, please investigate. You're nearest to the incident."
"Aw, Charlie, cut me a break, okay? I'm off shift, for crying out loud."
"You want me to pull rank, Matt?" I could hear the smile in his voice.
I sighed louder, making sure the Colonel heard me. "No, that's okay.
Unit Two Seven investigating. Will advise as soon as I evaluate the
situation."
"I owe you one, Matt."
"You owe me several, Chuck. Two Seven out." Grinning, I hung up the
mike. Colonel Grey hates it when I call him 'Chuck,' so, naturally, I
never miss an opportunity to engage in a little harmless lese-majestie.
The scene of the wreck was nothing new to anybody familiar with high
velocity vehicular collisions. The spacecraft in question was a
standard Solar Defense Forces SP-6 armed shuttle equipped with FTL
capabilities. It had impacted one of the numerous vacant lots in the
area; both the SP-6 and some abandoned vehicles in the lot were pretty
much shredded. A collapsed canopy hanging from some power lines down
the street indicated that either the pilot or the AI had had the
presence of mind to hit the pseudosilk just before impact. Chalk up one
lucky SDF pilot. I saw no bodies in the wreckage, so I pointed the nose
of the Tatsunoko towards the pilot's landing zone.
A crowd of Badside's typical upstanding citizens had gathered around the
ejection seat and its motionless occupant. They didn't seem to be
particularly thrilled with their visitor. I could sympathize; however,
I also couldn't see them tearing some hapless sucker to bits simply
because he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Unsporting of
them, don'chew know.
I hit the siren and the blue and red lights mounted in the grill. This
proved to be a minor tactical error, as several opportunists in the
crowd started shooting in my general direction. A mistake on their
part. I wasn't in a particularly good mood to start with, and this sort
of behavior did nothing whatsoever to stir any hidden feelings of
brotherhood lurking within my breast.
Growling, I mashed the gas pedal to the floor, hitting steering wheel
buttons to close the transparisteel canopy and extend the twin buzzsaws
from the nose of the car. (Evidence from the TV show notwithstanding,
the saws are useless against any trees larger than saplings. However,
they're dandy antipersonnel devices.) By my second pass, the survivors
had abandoned the field, leaving the (apparently unconscious) pilot and
myself to our own devices.
I pulled up alongside the ejection seat, retracted the canopy and
buzzsaws (making a mental note to have the techs clean the blood,
viscera et cetera off) and hopped out of the car.
Surprise number one: The unconscious pilot was a she, unless Solar
Defense Forces had radically altered their vacc suits. Given SDF's
male-oriented hierarchy, a female space jockey was a rarity, to say the
least.
Not all that much of a surprise number two: The face visible through the
closed visor was heart-skippingly female, and even more distinctly
felinoid.
As a rule, TempCorps recruits natives to handle assignments in their own
alternities. I had met several felinoids, ursinoids, vulpinoids and the
like in Basic Training and beyond. Nice folks, by and large, although
I'm pretty sure each of us thought the other a trifle peculiar. I
hadn't met any native Solar Defense Force personnel, though, and I'm
pretty sure that SDF as a whole had no idea that TempCorps even existed
(if they WERE aware, heads would be rolling shortly in Section Five.) In
any event, our pretty kitty was in for something of a rude awakening. A
shame.
I hit the releases on the ejection seat, lifted the unconscious figure
into the passenger seat of the Tatsunoko (moving the briefcase off
first) and radioed the base with a sitrep. I requested salvage for the
SP-6, advised the radio operator to have sickbay ready for a casualty,
injuries unknown, and sped off for base, siren wailing and lights
flashing.
***
At HQ, I left our guest to the tender ministries of the Emergency Room
crew and drove the Tatsunoko over to the motor pool. The duty mechanic
came out. "Evening, Major. Back so soon?"
I indicated over my shoulder with my thumb. "Did a response to that
crash over in Badside."
"Ah. So what can I do for you?"
I extended the blades.
"Aw, ick! Major, that's the third time this month!"
I shrugged. "Can I help it if people are dumb enough to shoot at a
lawful enforcement operative carrying out his appointed duties?"
The mechanic regarded me skeptically. "Or you, even. You know, you
don't have to enjoy it so much."
"Sure I do. The doc said I'm not allowed caffeine any more."
The mechanic sighed. "Whatever. I'd better hose 'er down before the
blood etches the steel."
I nodded. "Don't forget to hose out the storage bay, too. Last time, I
had stray cats all over the damned car for two days before I figured out
the problem."
***
Lest this sound too cold-blooded, I should point out another peculiarity
of my adopted hometown: Around here, entropy ain't what it used to be.
Given time, the worst injury or even death heals itself. Left to their
own devices, the creeps I'd abbreviated would recover. Even the SDF
shuttle being hauled in on a flatbed hovertruck would repair itself in
time. This is one of those things we don't even try to explain.
***
The car dealt with, I headed back to Sickbay to find out more about our
unexpected visitor. According to the ID the medicos found on her
person, we were playing host to one Lieutenant Tali Hartoh, aged 24,
planet of birth Selene, enroute to act as military liaison to the
country of Itania on the planet Aeowulf in the M24 galaxy.
I buttonholed Captain Ed Wilkie, the doctor on duty. "So, how is she,
Doc?"
"Concussion from the impact. Some minor bruises and scrapes. Your
Badside pals didn't have much of a chance to rough her up."
I grimaced. "No pals of MINE."
Ed grinned and continued. "We have her under sedation, but she should
be okay in the morning."
"Can I have a look?"
He shrugged. "Why not? Prince Charming you ain't, so you won't wake my
patient up."
"Gee, thanks, Ed, I love you too."
"All part of our cheerful service."
"Service with a 'Sieg Heil', you mean -Wow!"
"A stunner, neh?"
"You, sirrah, are a master of understatement."
Even partially bandaged up, knocked out, a tube in her arm, another up
her nose and with blankets drawn up to her chin, Lieutenant Hartoh truly
was a stunner. Long jet black hair framed her delicate features and
full lips perfectly. The tawny fur on her face seemed to glow in the
light.
My lips pursed together in a silent whistle. "Remember, I saw her
first."
Ed smiled wryly. "Jeeze, Matt, give the lady a chance to wake up first."
I chucked him lightly on the shoulder. "Naturally. I'm going in to see
the boss, then home. Give me a call when she comes out of it, neh?"
"Will do."
"Arigato, Herr Doktor. I owe you one."
Ed told my departing back, "They keep telling me that, but I never
collect..."
***
Colonel Grey's office was Spartan but comfortable. The Colonel, a
white-haired gentleman given to a semi-permanent wooden expression, shot
a quizzical glance at me as I parked myself in one of his visitor's
chairs. "Jeeze, Chuck, ya gotta get more comfy chairs for us peons.
I'll have a dead butt in five minutes."
"You could stand to lose some of it, Major. And stop calling me Chuck!"
"Sorry, Chuck. Charlie. Colonel."
The colonel snorted. "Well, what do we have?"
I handed him the dossier on Lieutenant Hartoh I'd collected on the way
to his office. "SDF flyboy, er, girl, er, person on her way to Itania
when Badside materialized in front of her. She managed to punch out
just before the shuttle hit. I got there a couple of minutes later, and
rescued her from some of the locals who were about to get rowdy."
Colonel Grey sighed. "Are you having the blood cleaned off the blades?"
I grinned at him. "Colonel, you know me too well."
"That's the problem, Major." Grey seemed poised for one of his 'cowboy'
lectures, but he thought better of it, sighed and continued. "So, how is
our...guest?"
"She'll be okay. She's under sedation for the moment."
Grey nodded. "Very well." He punched a button on his desk. "Grey to
Maintenance. How long to repair that shuttle that just came in?"
"Taking local conditions under consideration, about two days, Colonel."
"Very good. Grey out." He tapped in another combination.
"Communications? Grey here. Please get in touch with our liason to
Solar Defense Forces High Command. Notify them of Lieutenant Hartoh's
accident, assure them she's all right and inform them that we'll be
sending her on to her final destination in two days, our time."
I grinned. "Hmm. You planning on letting her know where she is?"
Grey raised an eyebrow. "Personal interest, Major?"
"Just curious," I lied. "After all, I did rescue her..."
"As you are well aware, Major, standard proceedure calls for a partial
mindwipe. Lieutenant Hartoh will awaken in Itanian orbit on schedule in
her repaired shuttle, and she will not remember anything about her stay
at Depot Number Three. Is that clear?"
"Crystalline, Colonel. Um...Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Are you questioning standard operating proceedure, Major?"
"Nossir. But, well, SDF people are usually pretty good about keeping
secrets...and we can always use another liaison..."
The crusty old gentleman glared at me. "I am not accustomed to
explaining policy to junior officers, let alone a senior operative such
as yourself. I'll ask you again, Major-is there a personal reason
behind this?"
I fidgeted. "Well-"
He sighed. "I thought so. Major, you know the rules concerning outside
knowledge of Corps activities."
"Yessir."
"And we do not abridge the rules just because you happen to encounter an
attractive member of an outside organization."
"Yessir. I understand, sir."
Grey nodded. "Fine. Now, the Lieutenant will need a guide while she's
staying here. Think you can keep from drooling long enough to handle
the assignment?"
My heart leaped. "Slurp. Er, yessir."
The Colonel sighed. "I suppose salivation can't be construed as
insubordination. Very well, Major. Be here bright and early. I want
you on hand when the Lieutenant awakens."
"Yessir! Thank you, sir!"
Grey sighed. "Don't flatter yourself, Matt. The only reason I'm doing
this is that you'd be hanging about HQ making a nuisance of yourself
anyway."
I quirked an eyebrow. "That obvious, huh?"
Grey smirked a bit. "I've seen enough smitten personnel in my time to
recognize the signs. Goodnight, Major."
I rose. "Goodnight, Colonel. And thanks."
***
"You once thought of me
As a white knight on a steed
Now you know how happy I can be
And our good time starts and ends
Without dollar one to spend
But how much, baby, do we really need?"
-The Monkees, "Daydream Believer"
I was somewhat bemused, if unsurprised, by Lieutenant Hartoh's responses
the next morning.
When I walked in, the IVs and tubing had been removed and the bandages
changed. I sat down by the bed, drinking in the sight of her.
Eventually, gorgeous deep blue eyes fluttered a bit and opened. She
raised her head, saw me, closed her eyes and flopped back on the pillow.
Shock, I suppose. Waking up in a strange bed with a head still foggy
with sedatives to the sight of an example of an unfamiliar hominid
species can't be the most pleasant of experiences. I settled back and
waited.
After a brief period, a weak voice came from the bed. "Funny. I always
thought... the Afterlife...would be...different from this."
I grinned. "Sorry, my wings and halo are at the cleaners. Good
morning, Lieutenant."
One eye opened and regarded me. "You're a hallucination, right?"
"Nope. I'm Matthew Mason, a major in the Temporal Corps."
"Temporal Corps?"
"Never mind. Just get more rest, and I'll explain things later, okay?"
The eye closed. "That sounds like a very good idea...Major." She
relaxed a bit and fell into a light sleep. Shock can be useful at
times. I set the chair next to her bed into reclining mode and prepared
for a vigil.
Dr. Wilkie stuck his head in the door. "How is she?"
I grinned ruefully. "Took one look at me and passed out."
Ed snickered. "Told you so." He came over to the bed and began checking
her vital signs on the diagnostic panel, then took her hand, checking
her pulse. Lucky swine. Why hadn't I thought of that?
"I dunno, Ed. I always considered myself to be quite the charmer."
"I'll concede that you don't stampede horses or scare children-"
"Most decent of you."
"However," the doctor continued, "your new girlfriend there hasn't ever
seen a human before. Even with the beard, you're gonna be a bit of a
shock to her."
"Hey, I got it trimmed AND got a haircut this morning."
Ed's grin got wider. "So I noticed."
"And what's this 'girlfriend' business? I'm the Lieutenant's guide
during her stay here. Period."
"Right. A senior Enforcement agent babysitting a SDF pilot. Matt, did
anybody ever tell you what a lousy liar you are?"
"It's my fine, moral upbringing," I replied mock-stiffly.
Ed snorted sardonically. "Riiiight. Well," he leered a bit, "keep an
eye on my patient. I'll drop in later."
"Take your time, Doc," I addressed his retreating back.
I settled back in the recliner and waited. After an hour or so, the
Lieutenant began to stir, murmuring a bit. Her eyes snapped open, and
she sat bolt upright, looking about the room wildly. "Who-wha-you!
You're not a dream?"
"Well, dreamy, maybe," I said with a grin. "Once again, Lieutenant,
welcome to Temporal Corps Depot Number Three. I'm Major Matthew Mason.
You can call me Matt." I held out my hand.
Lieutenant Hartoh came to attention, nearly saluted then held her hand
out. "Tali Hartoh, lieutenant, Solar Defense Forces. Tali." A slight
tingle ran through my hand as hers touched mine. Did she notice it as
well? Never mind. "Pleased to meet you, Major...er, Matt."
"The pleasure is all mine," I said, and I meant it.
Tali shook her head to clear the cobwebs. "What happened? Where is this
place? Where's my ship?"
I gave her a brief precis of her arrival the previous evening, omitting
any reference to 'standard operating proceedure' and mindwipes. "So
your shuttle is being repaired, and you'll be ready to go tomorrow. In
the meantime, I'm supposed to orient you and play tour guide." I gave
her a lecherous grin, and she blushed adorably through her fur. "It's a
tough job, but somebody's gotta do it."
***
I have to give Tali credit. Once her situation had been explained to
her, she took the whole thing in stride, which made orientation that
much easier.
"...So, what do you want to do first? Breakfast?"
She nodded. "I'm starving."
"Okay. The doc says you're ambulatory. Do you want to eat in here? The
cafeteria's nice, and there's an outside seating area."
Tali glanced down at her hospital gown. "Er..."
I got up and walked to the closet. "Here's your flight suit,
unmentionables and whatnot. We laundered 'em last night."
Tali raised an eyebrow. "Some hotel you got here, Major." She smiled at
me, and the room spun for a moment. "You all right?"
I grinned weakly. "Fine..."
Tali grinned wolfishly and swung out of the bed. "How does the 'fresher
work?"
I showed it to her. Standard controls, shower, bath, dryers, bidet, the
lot. Tali nodded and grabbed her clothing. "Be out shortly." As she
disappeared into the 'fresher, her gown, held up by her tail, gave me a
quick glimpse that had me wishing for a long cold shower. Sigh.
***
The base canard that females take forever to get ready certainly didn't
apply to Tali. Within fifteen minutes, she appeared in the doorway of
the 'fresher. As a general rule, jumpsuits don't do much for their
wearer apart from protecting them from the elements. This one, however,
had apparently been tailored ever so slightly to flatter Tali's figure.
Gilding the lily, as it were.
My appreciative look must have been a bit stronger than I thought. Tali
said with a grin, "Retract the eyeballs, Major. The lady's hungry."
I bowed. "But of course, my dear Lieutenant." I extended my arm. "Shall
we?"
I really don't remember much of the walk to the cafeteria. Most of it
was a dreamy fog. I was achingly aware of having a beautiful lady on my
arm and nattering on, pointing out various points of interest. It was
probably just as well I wasn't on duty, because there was no way I would
have been able to pay attention.
Over breakfast, Tali and I swapped life histories. She came from a
military family; her father was retired from the defense force of one of
Selene's larger continents. She graduated college on an SDF
scholarship, and was serving as a military liaison to Itania. Like me,
she was currently between attachments.
I still didn't have the heart to mention any impending brain
alterations, so I left Tali with the impression that the Temporal Corps
was interested in having her as a liason. In fact, I had called in
several large favors the evening before; Section Two had a comprehensive
study of Lieutenant Hartoh on my desk by the time I reached my office
that morning.
Tali crunched down her last piece of toast and took a sip of orange
juice. "Yum. Well, Matt, you certainly treat the hired help good."
I nodded. "We have to. Keeping history straight over a number of
alternities is an incredibly tough job."
"So I guessed. So what exactly do you do here? I mean, you gave me a
bare bones outline, but I'm not sure I understand the exact mission of
TempCorps. And if I'm going to be a liaison, I'd better know with whom
I'm jumping in bed-Matt? You okay?"
"No problem," I coughed, "hot tea through the nose is good for the
sinuses." I wiped the splatter off the tabletop and pressed a few keys
on the built-in comm unit. "Let me give you the canned intro, then we
can spend the day touring the facilities."
Tali raised an eyebrow. "Am I cleared for this?"
I grinned. "Oh, we've checked you and your record out thoroughly. Took
a couple of hundred personhours. If you hadn't checked out, you would
have woken up with your craft just entering Itanian space, none the
wiser." (And you just might do that yet, I said unhappily to myself.)
"Ah. But I just arrived last night...Temporal Corps. Time travel.
Right. I suppose I have to get used to the idea of folks who go in
different directions than I'm used to."
My grin widened. "Yep. Here we go..."
A burst of tinny music and a sonorous voice burst forth from the speaker.
["Temporal Corps Information Tape 1, version 3.6. Introduction to
TempCorps.]
["It has been noted that most civ-ilizations discover time travel in one
form or another at roughly the same point in their technological
develop-ment. This point, in terms of the "real world", falls in the
150 year pe-riod spanning 1890 to 2040. Examples of this in fiction
include H.G. Wells' time machine (1890s), Keith Laumer's Maxoni-Cocini
Drive (depicted as having been invented roughly at the same time), L.
Neil Smith's Probability Broach (1970s) and Heinlein's Burroughs-Libby
Drive (early 2000s)."]
Tali raised one eyebrow. "Fiction?"
I shrugged. "One generation's science fiction is the next generation's
science fact."
"Hokey."
"But true."
["Shortly after the discovery of time travel comes the discovery that
time-tampering must be prevented. This, basically, is where the
Temporal Corps comes in."]
"Yay!"
"Hush."
["The Temporal Corps were founded in the early 1970's when scientists
for a certain global law enforcement agency based in New York discovered
time travel. Their counterparts discovered it shortly thereafter, and
the fun began. Over the years, TempCorps have expanded their operations
over a multitude of alternities, with the objective of trying to keep
the natural flow of time intact while also trying to maintain law and
order whenever possible."]
"Like rescuing spacers who literally stop by your neighborhood?"
"And are stopped by the neighborhood, yes."
["Like the agency which spawned it, TempCorps is divided into five
separate but overlapping sections:
Section One: Policy and Operations
Section Two: Operations and Enforcement
Section Three: Enforcement and Communications
Section Four: Communications and Security
Section Five: Security and Personnel."]
"What section are you?"
"Section Two. I'm one of the senior agents."
"Oooh! Golly gosh gee!"
"That's what I like to see in junior officers. Due respect." Actually,
I was delighted that Tali had loosened up sufficiently to joke about the
situation. She was obviously possessed of considerable self-assurance
and adaptability. This would help when I made my pitch to Colonel Grey.
["TempCorps is equipped with a multitude of different vehicles, sidearms
and assorted weaponry. They generally buy out surplus goods when
another organization goes out of business. Therefore, TempCorps
operates all sorts of odd mecha, aerospace craft, ground vehicles and so
on."]
"Which is a maintenance nightmare," I grinned, stopping the playback.
"For example..." I pulled my modified Walther out, removed the magazine,
jacked the round out of the chamber, locked the slide open and handed
the pistol to Tali. "We got these from our parent organization when
they switched to a newer model. They work fine, and I have all the
attachments to make it into a carbine, but it IS over twenty-five years
old."
Tali held the gun reverently. "Wow. A real live museum piece." She
worked the slide, checked the chamber, aimed the Walther at the ground
and pulled the trigger twice, checking the single and double action
trigger pull. "Nicely broken in," she commented, pulling back the
slide, locking it and handing the pistol back to me. "Trank rounds?"
I nodded. "Mostly. It'll use regular ammo as well."
"Hmmp. First time I've ever handled anything that used cased rounds."
I finished reloading the Walther, replaced it in its holster and sighed
dramatically. "You kids today are spoiled. I remember having to walk
twenty miles in a raging blizzard-"
"The liquor stores were closed?" Tali guessed.
"Have you been spanked lately?" I growled.
"Promises, promises."
I grinned. "Anyway...where was I?"
"Walking twenty miles in a raging blizzard to collect charcoal to make
black powder for your flintlock."
"Oh, you heard the story, then."
"Yeah. Gramps."
"I'll Gramps YOU. Wench."
"I repeat, promises, promises."
I sighed. "We've known each other for less than twelve hours, most of
which you've spent under sedation, and already you're insulting me. It
MUST be love."
Tali's eyes twinkled. "Must be."
With a snort, I rose. "Milady? Shall we?"
"Here? Now?"
"You have a filthy mind for one of your tender years-"
"But my rear ISN'T tender. At least not yet. You keep promising, but-"
I continued firmly. "The day is young. In any event, I shall escort
you about our humble little base here and show you the sights."
"Most gracious of you, milord." Tali rose, stretched (which did my blood
pressure no good at all. Not that I minded), and, taking my arm,
strolled with me out of the cafeteria. "You can show me your charcoal
collection."
***
Touring Depot Number Three is pretty much an all-day affair, even if you
leave out the classified bits such as the chrono-calibrators and master
comparison archives (I regretted it, but no point in giving Grey more
reasons to order the brainwipe done). Tali's remarks prompted me to
start with the armory.
"...and over here are the gausspistols and blast rifles."
"Nifty! So why do you keep using that thunderstick of yours?"
"Bye and large, I operate in the eras when this type was fairly common.
Anachronism, both forward and reverse, is a constant hazard. If I
operate pre-1938, I use something appropriate to the era."
I noticed Tali eyeing an M-24 gausspistol wistfully. "Want to give it a
try?"
Ever see a kid at Christmas? "Could I?"
"Milady's wish is my command."
For the next half-hour or so, Tali enjoyed herself by mutilating various
targets. She particularly liked the M-24's built-in laser sight. I
took the opportunity to get in a bit of practice with the Walther in the
next lane, and we occasionally sniped away at each other's targets in a
light-hearted manner. I made a mental note to send Colonel Grey a
bottle of really good Scotch, even if he was a stuffed shirt.
After target practice, we toured the gym, swimming pool (I promised Tali
a swim later), barracks, recreation area, offices (she found the large
rubber cockroach sitting on top of the computer monitor in my office a
nice touch) and so on, winding up at the motor pool, where the mechanics
were working on her shuttle.
"Wow." The sight of the half-repaired shuttle sobered Tali rapidly.
"You should have seen it when we brought it in," I said. "It was pretty
much shredded."
Tali nodded. "If it wasn't for the AI punching me out..." Her voice
trailed off and she shivered a bit.
I put an arm around her shoulders. "But it did and you're okay, right?"
"Right." She didn't sound particularly convinced.
"Come on. I'll take you to your quarters."
***
"You'll be staying in the Bachelor Officer's Quarters overnight. I've
taken the room next to you, if you need anything. I suggest you rest
for a couple of hours, then I'll take you out on the town for dinner and
dancing. I'm going to do the same."
"Suits." Tali gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. "See you in a
couple, luv."
Inside my room, I unlocked the connecting door, peeled down to my
skivvies and curled up under the covers for a brief nap. My doze was
interrupted by a slim arm covered in tawny fur wrapping itself across my
chest. Obviously, she'd meant a couple of minutes. I grinned and held
Tali's hand tightly. We slipped off to sleep cuddled up together.
***
"Okay. Talk."
"What about?" Tali regarded me across the remains of our steak dinners,
looking absolutely fetching in a navy-blue two piece outfit she had
ordered from the PX after our nap. To my delight, she had no qualms
about actual steaks; a fair percentage of folks in her home alternity
are strict vegetarians. It's no fun eating a sixteen-ounce T-bone when
somebody is glaring at you accusingly during the meal. "Is this the part
where you interrogate me, having softened me up with a fantastic meal
and dancing?"
"We haven't gone dancing yet," I pointed out. "No, there's something
that bothers me. Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you like me? Why didn't you take off screaming for the hills
when you first laid eyes on me?"
Tali looked baffled. "Er, how many guesses do I get?"
"As many as you like."
"Um, well, you like me, right?"
"Right."
"You saved my life, right?"
I wrinkled my nose. "Well, I would have done that anyway..."
"Ahem. You find me attractive, right?"
"Very much so."
"Well," Tali shrugged, "the attraction is mutual. Simple as that."
I must have looked at her somewhat askance, as she continued. "Okay.
The first thing I saw when I woke up in the infirmary was you looking at
me like I was your long lost love who'd been in an accident and was
coming out of a coma."
I blushed a bit. "Was it that obvious?"
Tali nodded. "Like a light-up sign. I saw your eyes and I liked them.
I like hazel eyes. And when I made that rather weak joke about the
Afterlife, you picked right up on it. I like a man with a sense of
humor. And there was some undefinable something that, well, I just
instinctively trusted you and knew that you meant me no harm and you'd
protect me." She blushed a bit under her fur. "And when we talked, I
knew I'd found a friend. And when you showed me your trust by handing
me your personal weapon, and your common sense by making sure it was
unloaded, and how you knew I just wanted to be cuddled this afternoon...
Don't put yourself down, Matt. You're one heckuva guy."
My blush deepened, and I shifted about uneasily. "Awww, gawrsh," I said
in my best Goofy voice. "You're just sayin' that on accounta' it's
true." Behind us, the orchestra struck up a waltz. I grinned, and
switched to my best Cary Grant voice. "Well, my dear, shall we trip the
light fantastic?"
Tali replied, in a credible Mae West, "Mmm, I thought you'd never ask,
big boy."
***
Tali is a fantastic dancer, and quite light on her feet. I daresay we
were one of the better-looking couples of whatever species on the floor.
Not that we noticed the others all that much.
***
Alas, even the best of evenings must come to an end, and it was early
morning when I escorted Tali to her front door. We stood somewhat
awkwardly at the door to her quarters. "Well, goodnight, Lieutenant. I
had a wonderful time."
"Me too, Major." I began to give Tali a hug when she wrapped me in a
bearlike grip. Slim, but wiry. Very strong grip, she has. She
whispered sweetly in my ear. "Major, you have two choices."
"Oh?"
"Oh. One, you come inside this instant."
"And the other?"
"I tear your clothes off here in the hall."
"I bow to your superior tactical knowledge."
***
As a general rule, I'm not much of a morning person. Since I hate
coffee (and I'm not allowed caffeine, anyway) it may take a couple of
hours to get me going, most mornings. Accordingly, I generally set my
alarm early.
One thing that makes waking up much easier is doing so snuggled up next
to a warm, furry, naked woman. Beats hugging a pillow all to hell, in
any event.
I was summoned from some very sweet dreams by the sound of whimpering. I
was in Tali's arms, my head pillowed in her bosom. I immediately
approved of this alteration in the general scheme of things. I glanced
towards the window; it was shortly after sunrise. By the steadiness of
Tali's breathing, she hadn't woken up yet. I decided to stay where I
was, so as not to wake her, and closed my eyes to nap a bit further.
Tali was evidently having a bad dream, as she whimpered again, shook
herself and sat bolt upright, dumping my head from her lap. "No! Huh?
What? Oh! Matt! I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
"No problem," I assured her, "I love getting dumped out of a nice warm
place first thing in the morning."
"Bastard," Tali grinned.
"Seriously, though," I continued, "are you all right? I heard you
whimpering."
Tali grinned ruefully. "Just a nightmare. I dreamed I was crashing
again, but I couldn't bail out this time, and, well..."
"No problem. C'mere, you." I cuddled Tali to me. "I'm here. I love
you, and I'm not going to let anybody hurt you."
Tali wrapped an arm around me and kissed me firmly. "I love you too."
She yawned delicately.
I hit the controls to close the shades again. "Go back to sleep for a
bit, then we'll get some breakfast."
"It's a deal," Tali murmured, curling up against me.
I closed my eyes and nodded off, my nostrils delighting in Tali's scent.
***
At 0900 precisely, I presented myself to Colonel Grey. He raised an
eyebrow as I entered his office, came to rigid attention before him and
saluted. "Yes, Major?"
"Sir, I am requesting that you reverse your decision concerning
Lieutenant Hartoh."
"Oh?" Grey's tone was mild. "I was under the impression we had come to
an understanding on that matter."
"Sir, I took the liberty of having a complete background check done on
Lieutenant Hartoh-"
"I know, Major. I had a copy delivered to my desk this morning, as
well."
"Then you know the facts as well as I do. There is nothing in
Lieutenant Hartoh's record to prevent her from becoming a liason."
"There isn't all that much to recommend her for the post either," Grey
pointed out in an infuriatingly reasonable tone.
I sighed. "I know. Sir, you trust my hunches, don't you?"
"Sometimes."
"Then trust me on this one. Tali-er, Lieutenant Hartoh will make a fine
liason."
"Major, you're emotionally involved. I find it difficult to trust your
judgement."
"Fine." I saluted and turned for the door. "My resignation will be on
your desk shortly. I would like to request transport to Itania after I
have been mindwiped." I stalked out, not waiting for Grey's reply.
***
According to my secretary, the paperwork officially appointing
Lieutenant Tali Hartoh as a provisional liason between the Solar Defense
Forces and the Temporal Corps had been sitting on my desk two hours
before I went to see Grey. Whistling tonelessly, I picked up the phone
and punched in Grey's number.
"Colonel Grey here."
"Chuck?"
"Yes, Major?"
"You're a sneaky sonovabitch, you know that?"
I heard a distinct telephonic chuckle. "I'm afraid certain-agents are
a...bad influence on me."
I snickered, which turned into a belly laugh. "Okay, Colonel, I owe you
a big favor."
"If you can refrain from calling me 'Chuck'," the crusty old bastard
intoned in his finest British accent, "I will be eminently satisfied.
Goodbye, Major."
"Goodbye, Colonel. And...thanks..." I hung up the phone. "...Chuck."
***
"All alone at the '64 World's Fair
Eighty dolls yelling 'Small Girl After All'
Who was at the duPont Pavilion?
Why was the bench still warm?
Who had sat there?"
- They Might Be Giants, "Anna Ng"
The sun was setting as we walked towards the flight line. I was feeling
rather odd, to say the least. For the first time, I really understood
the Shakespeare line about parting being sweet sorrow. "I'm going to
miss you, Tal."
Tali smiled sadly. "I'll miss you too, Matt. But, duty calls, and all
that rot."
I nodded miserably. "Well, you are a provisional TempCorps liason
officer now, and if you ever want to change jobs..."
"I know. I will give it some serious thought, but just throwing away my
Defense Forces career, well, I'm not going to take that decision
lightly."
I essayed a sad grin. "If you did, Lieutenant, I don't think I'd
respect you nearly as much-"
"In the morning?"
That did it. We both cracked up. Tali leaned against her repaired
shuttle for support. "Whoo-hoo-hoo! Major, ya gotta stop feeding me
those straight lines."
"Why?" I asked, deadpan. "Everybody knows they're the shortest distance
between two puns."
"Groooan. That's it, Matt, I'm outta here before your jokes get any
worse."
We shared one final slow embrace, whispered "I love you" to each other
one last time, disengaged very reluctantly, and the rest of me snapped
to rigid attention as well. We saluted each other, then I helped Tali
up the ladder to the shuttle cockpit. She didn't really NEED the boost
on her derriere, but I simply couldn't resist.
I stepped back as she lowered the canopy and started the fusion engines.
Tali finished her runup and preflight checks, glanced over at me, blew
me one final kiss then opened the throttles. The SDF shuttle roared
down the runway. I held my breath involuntarily until the wheels were
up and locked and she was well clear of the ground. Tali brought the
shuttle around on one slow circuit of the field; as she flew over me,
she did a snap roll and pointed the shuttle's nose upwards. Within
moments, she was just another star in a field of millions. A sudden
twinkle from a dimensional gate, and the extra star in the sky was gone.
I turned and trudged back to the Tatsunoko to head for home. There
would be more assignments for a senior Enforcement agent on the morrow,
certainly. "'Better to have loved and lost'...aw, BULLSHIT." I grinned
sardonically to myself and gunned the engine.
I did meet Tali again, of course. But, that's another story for another
time...
END
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