Simon Hawke
The Timekeeper Conspiracy
"I don't know. But at least they haven't reassigned you yet."
Finn scratched his head. "Hell. I had to go and hit that asshole. They've probably fixed his jaw by now and he's back pushing papers, while I'm going to get stuck out in the Asteroid Belt, keeping those crazy miners from killing each other. You know, I might've expected just about anything, but somehow I never thought I'd wind up as a policeman."
He looked out through the giant window that was the outside wall of the First Division lounge. It was dark outside and all the buildings were lit up, bathing the plaza far below in a garish glow. The skycabs threading through the maze of buildings made the night a sea of red and amber running lights. The window shut out all the noise, rendering the scene outside into a silent ballet of light and steel.
"Doesn't look real somehow, does it?" Finn said as he continued gazing out the window. "I really hate it here, you know that? I was born into this time and yet I don't belong to it."
Lucas smiled. "You're a romantic, Finn."
Finn snorted. "I'm a soldier, kid, that's all."
"Look, nothing's settled yet, right? The board still makes the final disposition."
"When's the last time you heard of a review board going against a ref's recommendation?" Finn said.
"There's always a first time."
"Don't hold your breath."
"Well, if they send you out to the Belt, I'll go along and keep you company. I can put in for a transfer."
"Don't be an ass."
"Why not? How bad can it be? The duty's less hazardous and it would sure beat hell out of the lab job I left behind to re-enlist. Besides, we go back a long way together. All the way to 1194, to be exact."
Finn smiled, recalling the adjustment in 12th-century England. He nodded. "Yeah, that was a hell of a mission, wasn't it? We almost didn't make it back."
"We did make it back, though," Lucas said. "And we were in a worse fix than you're in now."
"Maybe. Hooker never made it back, though. And Johnson bought it, too." He tossed back his whiskey. "Hell, I must be getting old. I'm turning into a maudlin drunk."
Lucas pushed back his chair and stood up. Finn glanced at him, then turned to see Major Forrester approaching their table. He wasn't required to stand to attention in the presence of a superior officer in the lounge, but he made a determined effort, anyway. He was slightly more than halfway out of his chair when Forrester said, "At ease, gentlemen. As you were."
Lucas sat back down.
"Sorry, sir," said Finn. "I gave it my best shot, but I can't seem to feel my legs too good."
"I've got half a mind to cut 'em off for you, Delaney," Forrester said.
The old man hadn't changed. Antiagathic drugs made it difficult to accurately guess a person's age, but Forrester looked as old as Methuselah. Even his wrinkles had wrinkles. Yet Forrester stood ramrod straight and he was in better shape than most men under his command who were one-sixth his age. He had been their training officer in the field and Lucas knew only too well just how "old" the old man really was. He glanced at Lucas.
"You just get in, Priest?"
"Only just, sir. I was going to report to you in the morning."
Forrester nodded. "I knew you'd be back. There's nothing on the outside for a soldier." He sat down and ordered a drink. Both Finn and Lucas were glad that they had already started on their Irish whiskey. It meant that they had an excuse not to join the old man in his favorite libation. For some unfathomable reason, Forrester had picked up a taste for Red Eye. Of all the swill that he had downed during his temporal travels, Lucas hated that old west rotgut the most. Those oldtime gunfighters either had iron constitutions or a death-wish. The stuff could make a man go blind.
"I hope you haven't gone soft on me, Priest," said Forrester. "I just got a hot one dumped into my lap and I need to put a team together in a hurry, so I hope you haven't lost your edge."
"I'm ready, sir," said Lucas. "But what about Delaney? He's filled me in on the situation and if you don't mind my saying so, sending someone with his experience to the Belt would be a waste."
"Thanks, kid," said Delaney, "but you don't have to — "
"I agree with you," said Forrester. Finn's eyes widened in surprise. "He's insubordinate, but he's a hell of a good soldier."<