“But I cannot use any of my experiences in my writing,” Verne said, the brightness fading into gloom abruptly.
“Well, that depends,” said Forrester, choosing his words with great care. “For example, if you were to write a work of fiction, suitably identifiable as such, about… oh, a submarine, for example… so long as there was nothing in the book to actually enable anyone to build one and so long as certain scientific principles were not revealed-”
“You mean if I were to make it entirely imaginary,” said Verne, “obfuscate technical details, merely draw on my experience to write a sort of fantasy-”
“Precisely,” Forrester said. “It would depend entirely on how you handled it, of course, but I don’t think something like that would present any problems.”
“But this is wonderful!” said Verne. “I shall be completely circumspect, Colonel. The secrets of the future will be safe with me.”
“That’s all we ask,” said Forrester.
“Colonel, if I might ask one favor, if it would be possible…?”
“Certainly, Mr. Verne.”
“It is about Ned Land,” said Verne. “If I could be allowed to somehow pay tribute to a brave man by remembering him in my work-well, it would be a small thing, but it would mean a lot to me.”
“I think that would be appropriate,” said Forrester. “Now if you will excuse us, we’ll leave you to your admirers, who have been specifically instructed not to discuss your future work with you. It’s been an honor, sir.”
As they moved away from the table, Lucas cleared his throat.
“Did I just hear you give him the idea to write Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Forrester. “I didn’t put him aboard that sub. Besides, a writer has to write what he knows, doesn’t he?”
“I think I just heard a hair being split,” said Andre. “As you were, Sergeant,” Forrester said.
“Sergeant?”
“You’ve been promoted. Congratulations. Priest, you’ve made lieutenant colonel. You keep this up, you’ll wind up outranking me. Since we can’t have that, you’re going to have to settle for a decoration next time.”
“How about just giving me a raise, instead?” said Lucas.
“I’ll submit your request through channels,” said Forrester.
Lucas grimaced and looked at Andre. “A decoration,” he said.
Finn was sitting up in the bed next to Martingale’s when they walked in. His hands were swathed in bandages. Martingale’s entire body was encased in a sterile cocoon with openings for the eyes, the nostrils and the mouth. Forrester tossed a small box onto Delaney’s bed.
“What’s this?” said Finn. He couldn’t open it. “Lieutenant’s bars,” said Forrester.
“Oh, no!” said Finn.
“You might be interested to know there’s a pool going to see how long you’ll keep them,” Forrester said dryly. “Meanwhile, I’m sure you’ll be interested to hear the wrapup. Salvage operations have been completed and the missiles disassembled. What’s left of the sub will be repaired and placed on exhibit in San Diego. The base has been dismantled and most of the warp discs have been recovered. The Referees are extremely concerned about possible temporal disruptions as a result of this affair. We’ll just have to wait and hope for the best. The TIA has managed to trace several of the bases Drakov had established.”
Forrester paused uncomfortably.
“I’m afraid he’s given us the slip again, along with Benedetto. We haven’t heard the last of them. There were computer records kept at the base, but they were incomplete. Temporal Intelligence is still working on them and, as I’ve said, they’ve managed to find some of the other bases that were established, but there’s good reason to believe a significant number of those people have escaped, so we’re not finished with them yet. However, we did manage to avoid a multiple timestream split. But it cost us. We lost some of our best people. Still, we owe a considerable debt of gratitude to our friend here.”
He approached Martingale’s bed.
“The doctors tell me you should have died. They tell me you’ve got to be the stubbornest son of a bitch in the world.
Personally, I think the stubbornest s.o.b. in the world is in the bed next to yours, but l won’t argue the point. You’ll be good as new before too long and I was very glad to hear that. You did a good job, soldier.”
Martingale gave him a faint nod.
“You know,” said Forrester, “just to raise a point of idle conversation, the law concerning deserters is very strict. No exceptions, regardless of the circumstances. I just thought I’d bring that up. I don’t really know why it occurred