“Lynx, isn’t it?” Tesla said. “That’s an excellent question. I’m sure some of the others have wondered the same thing.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Lynx growled.
“I’m not. In fact, when the idea initially occurred to me, I discarded it as preposterous. But it gnawed at me, and the more I considered, the more I came to realize that a time machine can be used for more than time travel. It all depended on the projection coordinates. When I learned that MABEL incorporates a Time Vector System similar to GPS programming, I was elated.”
“In words of one syllable, Big Brain,” Hickok cut in, “what does all that gobbledygook mean?”
“GPS stands for Global Positioning System. It was much in use before the Big Blast. Basically, satellites were used to pinpoint any spot on the planet. Thanatos applied the same principle to time travel. It lets the time machine operator pick where the subject is sent.”
“So you can send us anywhere in Asia you want?” Hickok said. “But what about the time factor? How far back are you sending us?”
“That’s just it,” Tesla said. “We don’t have to send you far back at all. The minimal time increment is about an hour. So that’s how far back we’re hoping it will be.” He gazed about the table. “The threat we face is immediate, after all, and must be dealt with in the here and now. Not a hundred or a thousand years ago.”
“You’re ‘hoping’?” Hickok said. “In other words, it might not work?”
“The calculations are quite complicated,” Tesla said. “I can’t make any guarantees.” He mustered a grin. “So if you reach your destination and a dinosaur comes rushing out to devour you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
CHAPTER 16
Hickok could count the number of times in his life that he’d been nervous and have fingers left over. His friends sometimes made a big deal out of it, marveling at how calm he stayed in the worst crisis. ‘Nerves of steel’, they’d often complimented him, and asked how he did it.
The truth was, Hickok didn’t know. He’d been this way since he could remember. Even as a small boy, he couldn’t recollect ever feeling afraid. Geronimo liked to joke that he’d never been afraid because a person had to have brains to feel fear. Hickok reckoned it went deeper than that. He was never afraid and hardly ever nervous because it just wasn’t in him.
But he was nervous now. The time-jump, as Tesla was calling it, could kill them in a dozen ways. And the worst part of it was, they had no control over the course of events. None whatsoever. Once Tesla pushed the button or whatever it was that activated MABEL, they were at the whim of advanced technology they barely understood.
Give Hickok a straight-up fight with an enemy any day.
Now, with the sun sinking in the west and the Family gathering for the candlelight farewell his wife had instigated, Hickok swallowed his nerves and adopted his usual swagger. His thumbs hooked in his gunbelt, he strolled toward the open space between the concrete blocks. He did a lot of smiling and nodding to folks to give the impression he didn’t have a care in the world.
The entire Family was turning out to show their appreciation. Hickok admired that but he could have done without the fuss. It only made his rare case of nerves worse.
He was leaving everyone he loved, every person he cared for, the compound that had been his home since he came into the world, and might never see any of them again.
Hickok needed something to take his mind off the mission, and he was almost grateful when feet pattered and three small figures dashed up on either side of him. “Boys,” he said.
Ringo, Cochise and Gabe were Hickok’s, Geronimo’s, and Blade’s sons, respectively. All three were chips off their old blocks, and each had already expressed an interest in following in their fathers’ footsteps and becoming Warriors when they grew into manhood.
“Pa,” Ringo said, imitating Hickok’s Western accent. “My pards and me wanted a word with you.”
“I’m all ears, son,” Hickok replied. It amused him no end that his son always tried to do things the same way he did.
“No one has told us what we’re to do while you’re gone,” Ringo said.
“That’s right,” Gabe said, nodding. “I asked my father and he told me to listen to my mother.”
“Smart hombre, that Blade,” Hickok said. “But then, I taught him everything he knows.”
“Blade knows knives,” young Cochise said. He was dressed in green like his father nearly always did.
“So?” Hickok said.
“You know guns.”
“So?”
“So when did you become expert in knives, too? Enough that you could teach Blade?” Cochise said.
“I’ll have you know I’m an expert at a lot of things,” Hickok blustered. “I don’t go around crowin’ about it because deep down I’m too humble.”
“You?” Gabe said. Like his father, he had more muscles than Ringo and Cochise combined.
“Ma is worried, Pa,” Ringo said. “Last night I got up to get a glass of water and she was standing outside, crying.”
Hickok stopped in his tracks and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“She told me not to say a word to anyone,” Ringo said. “But I reckoned you should know.”
“My mother cried, too,” Gabe mentioned. “And my father hugged her until she stopped.”
“Women,” Hickok muttered. “Blubberin’ infants, the whole passel of ‘em.”
“Should I tell ma you said that?” Ringo asked.
“Not unless you want me shot,” Hickok joked.
“That’s another thing,”Ringo said. “We want you and Blade and Yama to be mighty careful over there. It would spoil my day considerable if anything were to happen to you.”
“It would spoil mine, too,” Hickok said.
“Watch out for my father, would you, Mr. Hickok,” Gabe requested. “My mother says he
