Read Online Borrowed Time by Jack Campbell - Free Book Online
Authors: Jack Campbell
Tags: Science-Fiction, adventure, Military, Time travel, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Anthologies, Anthologies & Short Stories, Space Fleet, The Lost Fleet
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anyway?”
“You wanted me to explain why you didn’t remember London being destroyed.”
“London? You mean the 1908 CE event? Of course I remember that. I wrote my thesis on it.”
I looked away for a moment, startled by the rapid overwhelming of the QME. When I looked back, Bill’s image was gone. “Jeannie, did Mr. Farrow terminate that call or did something else happen?”
“I require further information to answer your question.”
I pointed, unnecessarily, at the spot where the image had been. “Mr. William Farrow. The call he made to me just now. How did it terminate?”
“You were not engaged in a call. Your last call was made seven minutes ago to notify your employers of your successful completion of your mission.”
“I see.” Or, at least, I was afraid I did. “Please put through a call to Mr. Farrow.”
“I have no data for a Mr. Farrow in your personal contact file. Please provide more identifying information.”
I stared at the spot where Bill’s image had been, rubbing my chin this time. He wasn’t there anymore, and he wasn’t in the contact list I maintained for friends. Someone had made an Intervention downtime, something which might’ve made William Farrow disappear completely from existence, like that man who’d famously walked around the horses, or maybe he’d just shifted to a new reality where he and I weren’t friends. I don’t like Interventions that mess with my friends. “Jeannie, how many names are in my personal contact file?”
“Eighty six.”
There should’ve been an even one hundred, a number I’d stuck to so I could keep the file from bloating into uselessness. I was certain of that, even though doubt nagged at me in a way I recognized. “Confirm. Eighty six?”
“No. Eighty five.”
Damn. I’d lost another in that second of time. It’d been a big Intervention, then. Not just ripples causing localized effects that dampened out as they ran up through the inertia of history, but a big wave crashing through time and rearranging what had been. Big wave. Big Intervention. London, 1908.
And I had to assume I was just experiencing the front of that wave. As a T.I., I’d developed some extra resistance to changes working their way through time. No one knows for sure why that is, but even with that resistance if I was still here when the crest hit . . . maybe I’d change enough not to remember what had been, either. I didn’t know what that new reality would be like, but I had a feeling anyone willing to destroy a city to bring it about wasn’t interested in building a better tomorrow in any way I’d approve of.
“Jeannie, I need to do a jump.”
“Your credit reflects payment for your Intervention in Egypt.”
For what that was worth. Museums hated losing objects from their collections but couldn’t budget much to get them back, especially since they often couldn’t prove they’d ever had them. Also unfortunately, T.I.’s are prohibited from soliciting work, even in what I assumed was a good cause. “Will my current credit line cover a jump downtime to 1908 CE?”
“Yes. It will be close to maximized, however. I am required to counsel against making a jump on borrowed funds with no specific client.”
“Thank you. Counsel noted.” I glanced around the room, noticing a blank space where I was sure a picture ought to be. A picture of what? The memory was already blurring. “When exactly was London destroyed? And what does history say did it?”
“Old London was destroyed just before dawn on 30 June, 1908 CE by an atmospheric explosion attributed to a meteor impact with the Earth.”
A meteor? There must be another explanation, even though I now had memories of a New London crowding into my head. I waited a very long second while Jeannie set up the jump.
“The period immediately prior to the destruction is inaccessible,” she reported.
“Inaccessible? How can it be inaccessible?”
“I cannot determine the reason. I can jump you in
“You wanted me to explain why you didn’t remember London being destroyed.”
“London? You mean the 1908 CE event? Of course I remember that. I wrote my thesis on it.”
I looked away for a moment, startled by the rapid overwhelming of the QME. When I looked back, Bill’s image was gone. “Jeannie, did Mr. Farrow terminate that call or did something else happen?”
“I require further information to answer your question.”
I pointed, unnecessarily, at the spot where the image had been. “Mr. William Farrow. The call he made to me just now. How did it terminate?”
“You were not engaged in a call. Your last call was made seven minutes ago to notify your employers of your successful completion of your mission.”
“I see.” Or, at least, I was afraid I did. “Please put through a call to Mr. Farrow.”
“I have no data for a Mr. Farrow in your personal contact file. Please provide more identifying information.”
I stared at the spot where Bill’s image had been, rubbing my chin this time. He wasn’t there anymore, and he wasn’t in the contact list I maintained for friends. Someone had made an Intervention downtime, something which might’ve made William Farrow disappear completely from existence, like that man who’d famously walked around the horses, or maybe he’d just shifted to a new reality where he and I weren’t friends. I don’t like Interventions that mess with my friends. “Jeannie, how many names are in my personal contact file?”
“Eighty six.”
There should’ve been an even one hundred, a number I’d stuck to so I could keep the file from bloating into uselessness. I was certain of that, even though doubt nagged at me in a way I recognized. “Confirm. Eighty six?”
“No. Eighty five.”
Damn. I’d lost another in that second of time. It’d been a big Intervention, then. Not just ripples causing localized effects that dampened out as they ran up through the inertia of history, but a big wave crashing through time and rearranging what had been. Big wave. Big Intervention. London, 1908.
And I had to assume I was just experiencing the front of that wave. As a T.I., I’d developed some extra resistance to changes working their way through time. No one knows for sure why that is, but even with that resistance if I was still here when the crest hit . . . maybe I’d change enough not to remember what had been, either. I didn’t know what that new reality would be like, but I had a feeling anyone willing to destroy a city to bring it about wasn’t interested in building a better tomorrow in any way I’d approve of.
“Jeannie, I need to do a jump.”
“Your credit reflects payment for your Intervention in Egypt.”
For what that was worth. Museums hated losing objects from their collections but couldn’t budget much to get them back, especially since they often couldn’t prove they’d ever had them. Also unfortunately, T.I.’s are prohibited from soliciting work, even in what I assumed was a good cause. “Will my current credit line cover a jump downtime to 1908 CE?”
“Yes. It will be close to maximized, however. I am required to counsel against making a jump on borrowed funds with no specific client.”
“Thank you. Counsel noted.” I glanced around the room, noticing a blank space where I was sure a picture ought to be. A picture of what? The memory was already blurring. “When exactly was London destroyed? And what does history say did it?”
“Old London was destroyed just before dawn on 30 June, 1908 CE by an atmospheric explosion attributed to a meteor impact with the Earth.”
A meteor? There must be another explanation, even though I now had memories of a New London crowding into my head. I waited a very long second while Jeannie set up the jump.
“The period immediately prior to the destruction is inaccessible,” she reported.
“Inaccessible? How can it be inaccessible?”
“I cannot determine the reason. I can jump you in
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