Caroline began to ask the first of a thousand questions. Bohrs clucked his tongue and shook his head mournfully. There would be no answers right now.
“Could I at least have one of your hoodies?” she said.
Bohrs shrugged, removed his cloak, and draped it over Caroline’s shoulders. She clutched it closed as best she could with her bound hands. It dragged on the ground as she walked. Bohrs wore a simple singlet and leggings. His automatic was shoved into a brass-studded leather girdle about his waist. There was a doe-skin purse jingling with coins hanging on the girdle. He had come prepared to outbid all comers.
They were marched farther along the alley to where it opened into a broader avenue lined with residences. The street was empty but for a woman leaning at a trough scrubbing clothing with a stone. It was market day, and almost everyone was down at the main square and surrounding lanes.
The avenue curved to lead around the market area. The road wound down to where it ran along the water. There were wharves lined with stinking fishing boats. Men hung nets to dry surrounded by a blizzard of white gulls dropping onto the netting to pick any morsels of flesh trapped in the knotted lines. The slaves and their new masters walked down a long pier. Anchored at the end was a boat Caroline recognized as a samaina, a fat beamed cargo ship with a complement of fifty rowers. Some of those rowers were lounging on the pier until kicked to their feet by the hanged man.
Caroline and Dwayne were urged to board. Other men taller than average height waited on the main deck. They were in convincing period costume of singlet and sandals, and all were armed with holstered sidearms that were very much out of place here. They were ex-military, with tattoos similar to Dwayne’s inked on their arms.
More Gallant employees, she surmised. Sir Neal was making quite an effort to get back what was his. They were led down into the broad open hold as the rowers rushed to take their benches. It was roomier here than the Lion’s below decks area and floored over with layers of stuffed sacks from hull to hull. Bohrs urged them to sit. Dwayne wasn’t fast enough for the hanged man’s taste. The man kicked Dwayne in the chest, knocking him sprawling on the sacks. Caroline sat herself down, still wrapped in the cloak. The sacks felt like they were filled with grain of some kind.
“You came along nice and quiet, so I’ll share some knowledge with you,” Bohrs said. “We are taking you back to the present, but first we have to do a little traveling. Sir Neal wants both of you where he can find you, and he has a lot of questions to ask you both.”
“Look, I know I shouldn’t have taken the reactor,” Caroline said.
Bohrs and the hanged man exchanged amused looks.
“It’s the gold, darling. He wants to know all about the gold.”
It was Caroline and Dwayne’s turn to look at one another.
“Yes. Sir Neal knows about the gold. The cache you found in Nevada. The treasure on Nisos Anaxos. But he’d like to know a good deal more,” Bohrs said. A third man climbed down the ramp into the hold. He was dressed for the period except for a pair of tinted Ray-Bans. It appeared that chronal integrity was not a high priority for Gallant time travelers.
“Sir Neal likes you, Dr. Tauber.” Bohrs made a point of glancing at Dwayne then back at Caroline before continuing. “He means you no harm, and really hopes that you and he can reach an agreement.”
“You mean, go back to working for him?” she said, her eyes on the newcomer in the shades, who was opening a small plastic case holding two syringes.
“You and your brother, doctor. All is forgiven. Under certain new conditions.”
“What’s this?” Dwayne nodded toward Shades, who dropped to one knee by him. Shades wore vinyl gloves.
“A little preventative cocktail,” Shades said. “Can’t be too safe. Antibiotics, antivirals, some vitamins, and minerals. You can pick up some nasty bugs in the land of Socrates.”
He wiped Dwayne’s thigh with an alcohol swab, then stuck the needle in Dwayne’s leg and pumped in a full barrel of serum.
“Why did you kill Praxus?” Caroline asked as Shades parted her cloak to wipe a section of her thigh clean.
“Covering our tracks, perhaps?” Bohrs shrugged. “I’m not clear on that shit, and, frankly, it hurts my brain thinking about it. But we were told to eliminate the kid, so we eliminated him.”
Caroline winced as the needle stabbed her in the muscle pinched between Shades’ fingers.
“Where are we going? Where is the manifestation point?” she asked.
“Shh,” Shades said with a wry smile.
She tried to phrase another question, but her tongue was suddenly thick. The smiling man in the Ray-Bans seemed so far away. Her last sensations were the feeling of gentle movement and the clack of the oars against the wooden locks like a slowly ticking clock.
55
No Time Like the Present
“Caroline.”
Someone was calling her name from far, far away.
“Caroline.”
More insistent. Not a dream. Someone here. Right by her side.
She fought to open her eyes. She was stiff and sore. It hurt to move. She closed her eyes again to sink back into the comforting foam of sleep.
“Caroline, wake your lazy ass up!”
Dwayne was by her in this gloomy place. He was rocking back and forth. No, everything was rocking back and forth.
The slave-market. The two men. Praxus’ small, still body.
“We’re still alive,” she said in mild surprise.
“From the direction of the sunlight, we’ve been traveling an eastern course.” Dwayne nodded toward the bow. They were both
