Time's Chariot

concerning us?’

‘Mr Asaldra?’ said the woman. The two stared at him as if he had just announced his divinity to a waiting world. Rico had the horrid feeling they were about to fall down at his feet and worship. ‘Yes, of course we do! And you two must be Ops Zo and Garron? Do come with us.’

‘We’ll see your friend is, um, looked after, Op Garron,’ the man said. Rico let his gaze hold the man’s eyes just long enough to impart an idea of what would happen if his friend was not looked after, and ushered Su after the woman. Asaldra had already stepped boldly forth.

The arrival scene in the chamber had been a microcosm of what was going on out in the main hall. Every chamber on every level was disgorging correspondents. (’If your designation is BC, please follow the blue lights. If your designation is AD, please follow the green lights.’) No one seemed to be bothering with decon — Rico imagined this quantity of people would overwhelm the automatic systems and every correspondent would get individual treatment instead. He whistled and it was a strangely loud noise, because despite the quantity of people, the only other sound apart from the background announcements was shuffling feet and jostling bodies.

‘Did we leave anyone upstream at all?’ he said. The woman didn’t catch his meaning.

‘Oh no, all our people will have been recalled,’ she said. Then, to the air: ‘I have Mr Asaldra and his companions here.’

‘This is Field Op Garron…’ Rico symbed to back her up, before realizing he was getting nothing in return. Of course: he had destroyed his symb implants back in the twenty-first century. It was the least of his worries right now. And…

What exactly was going on? ‘Mr Asaldra and his companions’ seemed to imply that some fame had accrued to all of them in the intervening twenty-seven years — but to Asaldra in particular.

‘Hossein!’ An eidolon appeared in front of them. A woman in late middle-age, red- haired, gazing at Asaldra fondly. ‘Oh, how I’ve missed you.’

‘Hello, Ekat, darling.’ Asaldra’s smile seemed more fixed. ‘I’m back.’

‘And to a hero’s welcome,’ the Ekat woman assured him. ‘Well done.’ She gave Rico and Su a glance that seemed to skim off the top of them, then looked back at Asaldra. ‘Hossein, I hope you don’t mind, but we arranged a press conference and everyone who’s anyone is dying to meet you, or at least symb you. If you’re not too tired after your ordeal…’

Asaldra might have been born for this moment. He seemed to puff to twice his size and his proud smile could have illuminated the entire transference hall. ‘Not too tired at all, my dear. I’ll just need a moment to freshen up and then I’m all yours.’

‘Just follow me,’ Ekat said, and her eidolon drifted off. Asaldra took a moment to look back at the two Ops.

‘What did I tell you?’ he said quietly. ‘I expect I’ll see you around.’

And he was off.

It was all too obvious. Asaldra had powerful friends, and they had been laying the groundwork for his return for the last twenty-seven years. Here, he wasn’t the not-especially-bright stooge of Li Daiho; he wasn’t the man who had managed to be outsmarted not once but twice by the correspondent he had been so ready to use. Rico didn’t know if Daiho’s work had borne any fruit, but if Asaldra wasn’t now the man who had saved the Home Time then he was at least the one who had busted a gut trying.

‘Rico,’ Su said, her voice still a whisper.

‘I know, Su, I know,’ he said gently.

‘I can’t symb. It’s telling me it won’t accept my connection. I can’t even find out about them.’

‘Hello, Mr Garron.’ It was a man’s voice, and familiar enough to make Rico turn quickly. It came from a ball of marker light, hovering in the air behind him. ‘Welcome back to the Home Time. And you, Ms Zo.’ Familiar, yes, but Rico couldn’t quite place it. ‘Will you come this way, please?’

Su only looked at the light blankly. Rico still had one arm round her and he could feel she was still trembling.

‘Are you with the College?’ he said. ‘Op Zo has family…’

‘I know all about both of you,’ the light said. (Whose voice was that? It hovered just the wrong side of recognition…) ‘Please, come this way — that’s all I’m allowed to say.’

‘Who… ?’ Rico said, but the light was already drifting off, so Rico and Su forced their way through the mass of correspondents, who were finally being sorted into more specific groupings (’Sixteenth to twenty-first centuries AD, please follow the yellow lights. Eleventh to fifteenth centuries AD, please follow the blue lights. Sixth to tenth centuries AD…’), and followed.

After a brief spell in decon the light led them out of the hall and into the corridors and chambers of the College. Rico had been wondering if there would be some kind of red carpet laid out for the returning lost Field Ops, but apparently not. No one even gave them a second glance. Maybe the enquiry into their non-return had judged them incompetent and an embarrassment to the College. Maybe, under the new version of history, they were the villains who had obstructed Asaldra in his noble work and they had been struck off the rolls.

‘See, the conquering hero comes,’ he muttered. The layout of the place was the same, the cut of the clothes slightly different, not one face recognizable. And the whole place was strangely quiet, subdued, as Rico thought might be expected on the last day of the Home Time.

They came to a carryfield and were whisked away, with the light following. Rico suddenly had a suspicion what was happening.

It’ll be a party, he thought, with a grin. They’re laying on a welcome- home do. Maybe not everyone, but Su’s family are bound to be there, maybe her grandkids too…

Except that they were not heading in the direction he would have expected.

‘We’re going to the Outsider’s Quarter?’ he said.

‘We’re going to the Appalachian Consulate, Mr Garron. All the regular College accommodation is booked up for today.’

‘I haven’t been having good experiences with Appalachians recently, you know,’ said Rico.

The voice was amused. ‘I know.’

They came to the barriers of the consulate, where Rico and Su had to get off the carryfield to walk. The light beamed a clearance code at the guards and they let the Ops through.

‘Almost there,’ said the light. They stopped outside an apartment and the light faded into nothingness, just as the door morphed open.

The apartment held a man and a woman, coming towards them. Not a party, then, Rico thought, and failed to keep the disappointment off his face.

The man was smiling broadly. ‘Come in, please.’ The voice was the same as the one that had led Rico here. ‘How do you do, Op Zo. We met briefly, you may remember. Op Garron?’ He looked Rico up and down. ‘I remembered you as taller and older, but then I was slightly smaller and a lot younger.’

Rico studied the man in return. Dark hair, maybe a touch of grey, early to mid-forties…

The penny dropped as they stepped into the apartment and the door closed behind them.

‘You’re Jonjo!’

‘Jontan Baiget, Mr Garron.’ Jontan smiled and held out his hand. ‘And this is Sarai.’

‘Hello.’ Sarai smiled broadly and held out her hand. ‘I never got a chance to thank you.’

Jontan said, ‘The Register asked us — well, ordered, but we were happy to oblige — to be here to meet you. He thought you’d like some familiar faces.’

‘I never thanked you either, Op Zo,’ Sarai said. Her smile was still wide and genuine as she held her hand out to Su. ‘I can still remember—’

‘For God’s sake!’ It was almost a scream and it made Rico, Jontan and Sarai jump. Su flung herself away from Rico and stood facing them. Her hands were balled up into fists. They quivered with emotion, her whole body shook and it looked as if she was about to throw herself at one of them and pound him to pieces. ‘Will you stop nattering and tell me where my family are?’

‘Your family?’ Jontan seemed baffled. ‘I’ve no idea, but I could find out, if you like.’

‘You mean, the Register didn’t tell you?’ Rico said. Sarai and Jontan were completely nonplussed.

‘But why should it?’ Sarai said.

‘Well, you know…’ Rico stepped over to Su and gently took hold of her shaking wrists. He rubbed them