“She will have tactical command over them once activated, but their activation will be decided by this Council and not her, like we do now for our existing combat robots. Imbedded command protocols are contained inside these robots that prevent them from harming any unarmed Global Council citizen. Using them for a so-called mutiny will thus be impossible and these robots will in fact be able to stop a military coup if properly programmed. We plan to keep the combat robots and PDRs assigned to the static defense of the Global Council in storage until an invasion or attack justifies their activation. As for the combat robots and PDRs already in service, they will be used to defend our new secret base in the past, which is close to completion, or will be embarked on our patrol ships during missions.”
That considerably calmed the spirits of the Council members. Bartok himself hesitated, then looked at Boran Kern.
“If those restrictions are abided to, then I withdraw my objections to this project, Chief Administrator.”
Boran Kern nodded in acknowledgement, secretly relieved that this argument was over.
It could have turned into a major split of opinion in the High Council and could have forced the use of a public referendum on the question.
“Alright, Doctor Tolkonen, how much is this going to cost?”
‘’According to early estimates, these additional robots and PDRs should cost approximately 800 million solars. These robots use standardized parts already in mass production for other models of robots, except for the weapons on them. Since those weapons will be taken for free from abandoned military depots in the 21st century, save for the lasers, that will help keep the costs down. I thus request an initial budget of 800
million solars for this project.’’
All eyes then turned towards Pedro Salmash, the Global Finance Administrator, who shrugged.
“An appropriation of 800 million solars is actually no problem with me. The finances of the Global Council are healthy and could accommodate much bigger expenditures if need be.”
“Then, if there are no other questions or comments, we will now vote on this proposition.” Declared Boran Kern. With Farah, who didn’t have voting powers at the High Council, looking on anxiously, the members entered their votes electronically. She held her breath when the vote came to a tie. As Chairman of the High Council, Boran Kern now could vote to break the tie, which he promptly did in favor of Farah’s request.
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“The proposition for the acquisition of 10,000 armed robots and 500 PRDs for the Time Patrol is thus approved, on the condition that the command protocol limitations discussed today are incorporated in the design of these robots. Further production of additional robots will be subject to prior approval by me. Thank you for your time, Doctor Tolkonen.”
08:52 (North America Central Time)
Time Patrol headquarters
New Lake City University campus
Farah, just back from Zurich via a time scooter, caught Nancy as the latter was heading towards a classroom to teach a period on military history. Nancy watched her approach with an anxious look.
“How did it go in Zurich, Farah?”
“Can’t you read it in my mind, Nancy?” Replied Farah, getting a hurt look from her friend.
“You know that I refrain from reading the minds of my friends unless they want to, Farah. Since you don’t look all pissed off, I will take it that you won the argument.”
“Correct, Nancy. The first batch of additional robots meant to defend the Global Council should be delivered within two months, minus the 21st century weapons to be fitted to them.”
“Then I will schedule a large pickup detail for next Saturday, to get enough weapons and ammunition for our robots in 2054 ‘A’.”
“Which depots will you pick this time?”
“The ones in the San Francisco area. There are three army depots, two army ammunition plants and two army bases there. There were as well a number of big defense equipment manufacturing plants in the area, along with storage warehouses and defense maintenance facilities and workshops. They will contain all that we need, and more.”
Farah couldn’t help shake her head in wonderment.
“I still have a problem believing the volume of weapons and war equipment stored on Earth in 2052. It seems…obscene, especially when looking at the famine and privations endured by so many people then.
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“I know and I agree with you, Farah. It is only ironic that those stocks now will help us keep the peace.”
“Indeed! Have a good day, Nancy.”
“You too, Farah.”
14:03 (North America Central Time)
Tuesday, December 6, 3385 ‘A’
Time Patrol headquarters
Elizabeth Windsor was on her way to a tutorial class on advanced mathematics when she encountered Ingrid Weiss ‘B’ in the hallways of the headquarters building.
The German teenager, who was now eighteen years old biologically, was watching something through one of the large windows of the second level. Intrigued, Elizabeth looked outside as well and saw a sight that truly impressed her: rolling on their tracks along the road coming from the nearby landing pad were 400 combat robots in two parallel columns. The machines moved as one, perfectly aligned, in a way that would have made British royal guardsmen envious. The few university students and visitors to the Time Patrol museum present outside watched the machines go by, fascinated, with some taking pictures of them. The robots then turned a corner, heading towards the vehicles garage and maintenance complex and going out of sight of Elizabeth and Ingrid. Elizabeth smiled to the German.
“Impressive machines, aren’t they?”
“They are, effectively. Wait until they are fitted with their weapons and receive their camouflage paint scheme, though.”
“Are you heading towards a class?”
Ingrid shook her head slowly, thoughtful.
“No! I was heading towards the university’s medical center: I am due to receive my implants this afternoon, along with Tom. We will also get our longevity treatment at the same time.”
“Lucky you! I am not due for my implants for another two weeks. Uh, how is Tom doing, by the way?”
Ingrid couldn’t help smile at Elizabeth’s thinly veiled interest in her relationship with Tom Allen. The handsome seventeen year-old boy had been going out steadily with Ingrid for a month now, sparking widespread rumors of a solid romance between them. The fact 514
was that the rumors were right: both teenagers were truly in love with each other. That relationship was helped in no small part by the fact that they constituted the regular crew of the scoutship TEEN TEAM, an aptly chosen ship’s name in this case.
“Tom is just fine, Elizabeth. How about you? Any boys interested in you yet?”
Elizabeth hesitated before answering: any commoner who would have asked her that kind of question two years ago would have been expelled from Buckingham Palace for rudeness, but she was not a royalty anymore and felt on a par with the others around her now. She still missed terribly her family but the close comradeship in the Time Patrol had drastically changed her outlook on social classes and personal relationships.
Now sixteen and still a virgin, she was starting to become envious of the other young women of the Time Patrol, who were having a good time after work hours. A few of them had even married already, like Susanna Berghof, who had tied the knot with Sven Larsen, the hulking blond Norwegian ex-fighter pilot. Many people from both sexes had sighed in envy at the marriage of those two. Even Bobo MacDonald, Elizabeth’s ex-dressing lady, was going out at night now, dating Peter Stilwell.
“Uh, I’m not sure: I’m too shy still with boys, I’m afraid.”
“It will come one day, Elizabeth. Have a good day.”
“You too, Ingrid.”
Walking at a quick pace, Ingrid left the headquarters building after putting a coat on and went to the medical center, 400 meters away. Going to the reception lounge first, where she notified a clerk of her arrival for a scheduled operation, she was then directed to the third floor, where Tom Allen was already waiting in a small patients’
lounge. The British teenager, wearing only a patient’s gown, grinned at her arrival in the lounge.
“Ready for your big day, Ingrid?”
“I am, Tom. When are you going into the operation room?”
“Any time now. I can’t help feel nervous, though.”
“You should be. We are about to become full-fledged field agents, after all.”
“Minus the special training. Nancy did tell us that it would take a good month to become fully proficient with our implants.”
“Still, it is a special day indeed.”
Tom nodded, then looked up from his chair as two medics came in with a gurney. One of the medics patted the gurney’s mattress while looking at Tom.
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“Time for your ride, Mister Allen. Hop in!”
Tom did so, then waved at Ingrid as he was rolled out.
“See you later, Ingrid.”
A nurse entered the lounge as soon as the gurney was out of the way. Going to Ingrid, she presented her with a folded patient’s gown and a pair of paper slippers.
“Miss Ingrid Weiss? I would ask you to change into this now. There is a changing room with storage lockers next door, to the left. You will be picked up here in about ten minutes.”
“Thank you, miss.”
The gown and slippers in her hands, Ingrid followed the nurse out of the lounge and went to the changing room, which had individual cabins. Changing rapidly, she then folded carefully her uniform and put it with her boots and coat in one of the lockers. The lockers were equipped with fingerprint recognition pads activated in turn by each successive user, thus ensuring that nobody would steal her clothes while she was in the operation room. Ingrid returned in the lounge and sat after selecting a magazine from a wall rack. She had to wait only five minutes before two medics showed up with a gurney.
“Miss
Ingrid
Weiss?”
“That’s
me!”
Jumping deftly on the gurney with the agility of a cat, Ingrid let herself be wheeled to an operation block. Farah Tolkonen, Rebecca Milner and Patricia Wilson were waiting for her there, along with two hospital nurses. Farah smiled through her surgeon’s mask as Ingrid was transferred to the operating table.
“This is going to be relatively short, Ingrid. You will be conscious all the time and will wear a pain inhibitor. Nancy will heal you at the end of the operation, so that you and Tom could be in full shape tonight.”
Ingrid smiled as the other woman laughed.
“You’re all jealous.”
“No, we’re only happy that you are happy. Now, turn on your belly, please.”
Once Ingrid was on her belly, one of the nurses undid the girl’s gown and draped sterile sheets around the area of her back to be operated on. Patricia Wilson then applied a disinfectant solution on the exposed skin area. A nurse put a pain inhibitor headband on Ingrid’s head before Farah showed a small rectangular object with wires leading out of it to the German.
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“This is your time distorter and computer module that I will put in you. It will rest against the inner surface of your lower dorsal spine and will be held in place by composite pins and brackets. The module is nearly undetectable by normal X-Ray scans and works out of your bio energy, so you won’t have to worry about the power source. Since you already have a radio module implanted inside your cranium, this will leave only your hand stun circuits and ear directional microphone to put in place afterwards. Do you have any questions?”
“Uh, yes: when will you do the longevity treatment?”
“It will run concurrently with the operation. If you want to go to sleep, that is fine with me.”
“I may just do that, so that I could have lots of energy tonight.”
They again laughed together before Farah moved into position besides Ingrid. She waited until the nurses had plugged an intravenous needle and put in place various sensors and an oxygen mask, then initiated the operation.
“Activate the pain inhibitor. Scalpel, please.”
Carefully locating the correct vertebra first, Farah quickly cut the skin and tissues covering it in order to open a passage besides the vertebra to slip in the distorter module. It took her 25 minutes to put the module in place, fix it solidly to the inner face of the vertebra and extend and tie down the energy gathering wires. The job of installing the two hand stun circuits took longer, as it meant grafting long wires and two small boxes inside Ingrid’s hands. Installing the ear directional microphone was in comparison easy. By the time Farah was doing that last task, Nancy showed up in surgical garb.
Her hands were however bare of gloves. Going to Ingrid’s head, Nancy bent and smiled to her.
“Hello my sweet adopted daughter. I am pleased to tell you that Tom’s operation is finished. I healed his surgical cuts and he is well, resting for an hour in a room.”
“Thank you, Nancy.”
Nancy caressed her hair before taking position over her back. Nancy’s hands glowed faintly for half a minute, then she moved to Ingrid’s hands, healing them as well. As soon as Farah was finished grafting the microphone, Nancy healed the cuts in the hearing canal. Farah looked at her hands with envy.
“I would give a lot to have your healing powers, Nancy. They make medical treatment so much easier.”
“You will have to ask the big guy upstairs for that, Farah. Sorry.”
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Ten minutes later, Ingrid was wheeled out of the operation room and brought to the same room as Tom, who waited until the medics were gone and the door of the room closed before going to Ingrid’s bed and slipping besides her under the bed sheet. They kissed each other passionately and exchanged caresses for a minute before Ingrid whispered something in Tom’s ear. Tom grinned and kissed her before answering her.
“You have a deal.”
19:11 (North America Central Time)
‘Lynda’s Hair Salon’
Time Patrol residential tower
New Lake City University campus
Elizabeth Windsor was sitting under a hair dryer in the sole hair salon that existed in the 34th century when Ingrid Weiss ‘B’ entered the establishment and went to Lynda Crawford, the owner of the salon.
“High, Lynda! Could you accommodate me tonight? I need a shampoo and a new haircut.”
“No problem: it’s a slow evening. Miriam can give you your shampoo while I finish here with James.”
“Thanks!”
Going towards the back of the salon, Ingrid found Miriam of Magdala and Elizabeth Windsor there.
“High, Elizabeth! Hello, Miriam! Could I have a shampoo, medium hair?”
“Sure! Sit in this chair here.”
As Ingrid sat down, she noticed the baby park a few meters away, behind a glass partition, with little David apparently asleep in it.
“Oh, you have David here. I find him so cute.”
Miriam smiled with pride as she put a towel around Ingrid’s neck.
“He is an angel, truly. Everybody is spoiling him, though.”
“You can never spoil enough a baby like this. So, how do you like your life here, Miriam?”
“I couldn’t possibly ask for better, Ingrid. Compared to my Palestine, I feel so free, so respected as a woman here. I also love this job. Lynda is a really nice woman 518
and is teaching me modern hair care on her spare time. She says that I will soon be able to replace her from time to time, when she will take vacations, but I’m not sure that I am really ready for that.”
“Miriam, Lynda is right. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Both women then kept silent as Miriam washed Ingrid’s hair. Once the shampoo was done, Miriam led Ingrid to the hair dryer next to Elizabeth, who was reading a thick book.
Ingrid sat down and let Miriam adjust the hair dryer over her head, then looked at Elizabeth.
“How are the studies going, Elizabeth?”
The British teenager sighed softly and stopped reading for a few seconds.
“I won’t pretend that I find advanced mathematics easy, Ingrid. However, I am already miles ahead of where I was in term of education two years ago. My parents would have a hard time believing what I can do now.”
“Hey, Doug Wilson keeps telling me that you are a very good scoutship copilot.
Coming from an ex-RAF fighter pilot with three confirmed victories during the Battle of Britain, I would take that as quite a compliment, Elizabeth.”
“I’m still no match for you, though. Hell, you nearly beat Lilya Litvyak in a simulated dogfight the other day.”
“Nearly is the key word, Elizabeth: there are no second-place winners in a dogfight. I promised myself to beat Lilya at least once before graduation day, though.”
“Talking of dogfights, did you hear about that twenty minute encounter between Hanna Reitsch and Carmen Sanchez? The Chief Instructor Pilot, Voran Tess, was said to have become nearly airsick just by watching it. He said something about not taking bets ever again against ancestor fighter pilots.”
“He did? Tell me more about that.”
Miriam shook her head in amusement as the two teenagers talked excitedly about dogfights, air combat and something they called ‘hot-dogging’, whatever that meant.
10:33 (North America Central Time)
Friday, February 17, 3386 ‘A’
Main gymnasium, Time Patrol sports complex
New Lake City University campus
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Nancy cleared her throat, then spoke calmly in the lectern’s microphone as she faced the 61 apprentices lined up in two ranks for their graduation parade. Behind her, seated on portable stands, were most of the other members of the Time Patrol and their families, plus many university students who had been admitted as visitors. A few reporters, including a crew from GNN, moved around the periphery of the gymnasium, filming and taking pictures. Behind Nancy sat the Time Patrol’s heads and a few dignitaries, including Global Chief Administrator Kern and his wife.
“Chief Administrator Kern, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this graduation ceremony for field agent apprentices of the Time Patrol. I will keep this speech short, as our new agents are undoubtedly anxious to leave on a well-earned vacation after all those months of hard work, discomfort and stress. I only wish to say this: I am truly proud of our new agents. I will now ask Chief Administrator Kern to walk through the ranks of our new agents with me to pin on their uniforms their field agent insignias and hand them their badges.”
On cue, Boran Kern got up from his chair and approached Nancy, while thirteen year-old cadets Carolyn Anderson and Baran Mishtar lined up behind him, carrying cushions bearing silver insignias and badges. Like the rest of the Time Patrol members, the two young cadets wore light gray parade uniforms with gold trimmings. Those who had received military medals and decorations in the past also wore them with their uniforms.
Nancy, having returned her British medals in protest to Prime Minister Churchill in 1941, wore her Canadian Forces medals and her Afghan valor medal, plus the Valor Cluster from the Global Council.
The four of them walked at a solemn pace to the front rank of new agents and stopped in front of the first one in line, Mona Zirel. Boran Kern shook hands with her while smiling warmly to the young giant.
“Congratulation, Agent Mona Zirel. I am proud to see that Global Council citizens were able to complete such a grueling training.”
“Thank you, Chief Administrator.”
Kern then picked up one of the gold insignias of field agent from the cushion held by Carolyn Anderson and pinned it to Mona’s collar. He next picked up a large silvery badge in its black leather holder from the cushion held by young Baran Mishtar and presented it to the engineer, again shaking her hand.
“Be proud and do honor to this badge, Agent Zirel. I’m sure you will.”
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Kern, followed by Nancy and the two cadets, then went to the next graduate, repeating the whole process. It took a good forty minutes to review all 61 graduates, after which Boran and Nancy returned to the lectern, behind which Boran took place. Opening a folder, the Chief Administrator then smiled at the graduates, still lined up and standing easy.
“This is now the time to honor those graduates who distinguished themselves in particular fields of their training as field agents. Since your talents will be put to the test mostly in the distant past, some of those specialties may not mean much to an average citizen of the Global Council. After personally watching some of the training of this fine group of men and women, I can assure the visitors present that what the graduates I am about to call forward accomplished took long months of training and much dedication and effort to achieve. I will start with the graduate who achieved the top score as air combat pilot: Agent Carmen Sanchez!”
As the crowd and graduates applauded while Sanchez walked to the podium, Boran Kern added a few words in the microphone.
“I was told that this particular honor was quite ferociously contested during training. I would thus wish to publicly commend Agents Lilya Litvyak, Hanna Reitsch and Katya Budanova, who came respectively close second, third and fourth for that title.”
Stepping in front of the podium, Kern then shook hands with Carmen Sanchez and handed her an engraved silver trophy cup with wings. The pretty Puerto Rican then turned around and walked back to the group of graduates as Kern spoke again in his microphone.
“The next prize is for the top score as air gunner and goes to Agent Tom Allen, who shot a perfect score on his final practical test, despite the belief held by his instructors that such a performance was impossible to achieve.”
More applause rang while the British teenager proudly walked to the podium. His prize was a plaque with a golden crosshair.
“Next, ladies and gentlemen, I will call forward the top shipboard sensors operator, Agent Bertha Reinholdt.”
The next one to be called afterwards was Otto Skorzeni, as the top sniper of the class.
Jack Crawford followed behind him.
“Agent Jack Crawford has the distinction of topping his class in two specialties: unarmed combat and nature survival techniques.”
As Jack Crawford swaggered back into the ranks, Kern cleared his throat again.
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“The next candidate to be called forward is a very special case indeed. Formerly a royal heir in 1941 ‘B’ and with practically no formal schooling, she managed through very hard work to overcome her academic handicap and achieved good grades in all her subject studies. Further to that, she managed to top the class in three specialties: blade weapons fighting; archery and, finally, horse riding. Ladies and gentlemen, please applaud ex-Princess Elizabeth of England, now Agent Elizabeth Windsor.”
Nearly intimidated, Elizabeth slowly got out of the ranks, patted on the back and encouraged by the other graduates. Once she was stopped in front of Boran Kern, the giant shook her hand warmly and spoke in a low voice to her.
“I understand that you have quite an interesting past in term of incarnations, miss. Still, it doesn’t diminish in any way your achievements on this course.”
Kern then gave her in succession a beautifully crafted Japanese Katana sword, a silver plaque and a small silver horse statue, all with her name and class number engraved on them. Nancy bent forward and whispered to the teenager.
“By the way, do you know the nickname the others now use for you, in your back of course?”
“Uh, no. What is it?”
“Cutthroat
Lilibet!”
“What? Oooh, the buggers!” Said Elizabeth before smiling after a few seconds.
“Hey, it does have a ring to it, though. Thanks, Nancy.”
Giving back her trophies to a waiting Carolyn Anderson, she then returned to the group of graduates as Ingrid Weiss was called forward as top gymnast of the class.
The ceremony concluded five minutes later with the departure of Boran Kern and the dismissal of the graduates for their vacation. Ingrid Weiss ‘B’ and Tom Allen ‘B’ ran to Farah Tolkonen as she was about to leave with Nancy, catching both near the exit.
“Farah, we would need a service from you before we leave this afternoon.”
“Anything you want, Ingrid. What is it?”
Ingrid glanced at Tom, then swallowed hard.
“Me and Tom want to get married. Could you perform a civil marriage ceremony for us?”
Both Farah and Nancy were speechless for an instant, then exploded with enthusiasm.
“Of course I will marry you two. That’s great news. We could do it right away in my office, if it is convenient for you.”
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“That would be perfect, Farah.” Replied Ingrid, overjoyed. She then gave an apologetic smile to Nancy, who was grinning from hear to hear. “Uh, sorry for keeping this a secret even from you, Nancy. I hope that you will approve of this.”