small.
Rasel answered his unasked questions. “Operation, as you can see, is extraordinarily simple. All calculations and control functions are now performed by the relocator itself, or rather by its operator.
“As you know, the real work in temporal displacement is the transmission—identifying the target point, obtaining the space-time coordinates, pushing the traveler upstream. But once the connection path is established, callback is fairly straightforward. This new unit takes full advantage of that principle.
“The blue button signals the operator to initiate a controlled return to the point of origin based on the most recently calculated parameters. The red button forces an immediate callback, independent of the relocator’s current settings and without operator intervention.”
“The emergency return,” Lokus paraphrased.
“So to speak,” conceded Rasel. “The net effect, of course, is that the return unit, and thus the temporal traveler, are much less conspicuous.”
“Indeed,” Lokus agreed. He tested the unit’s adhesive pad, trying it on the breast of his tunic, his waistband, his arm. “This would definitely be an asset to a traveler wishing to blend in with the time, to get close to the action.” He handed the unit back to Rasel. “Keep this nearby; I may have need of it very soon.”
Rasel raised one eyebrow. “May I ask—” he began.
“You may not. All I am at liberty to say,” Lokus lied, “is that I may need to… observe a past event.”
The Science Minister frowned, but nodded slightly. “I understand, Vice Governor,” he said coolly, “but I will have to have some coordinates in order to make the transmission. When—if I may be so bold—did the event that you wish to observe occur?”
“I don’t know yet.” Over Rasel’s audible sigh of frustration, Lokus continued, “Which brings me to the other reason I came.”
“Ah,” Rasel brightened, “at last.” The egotistical smile returned. Having finally gained the advantage in their little verbal tussle, he waited patiently for Lokus to ask for his help.
Lokus knew he had to proceed carefully. He was about to request the use of an experimental technology which had nothing to do with time travel, and to which Rasel had the only access. Tricky business, even for Lokus.
“In order to properly identify the event to be observed,” he began casually, “I must do some historical research.” He could see that Rasel was unmoved. “Extensive research. On the Net.”
“Of course, Vice Governor. That is what the Net is for, is it not?” Rasel asked, turning away slightly.
Lokus seethed; he knew the Science Minister was deliberately provoking him. “I do not have time, Rasel,” he said tightly, “for conventional research. I need some specific, detailed information, and I need it quickly.”
A spark of satisfaction flickered in Rasel’s eyes, but he maintained his innocent composure. “Yes,” he said slowly, “but the Net is freely available to all government officials. Why come to me?”
Lokus’s eyes narrowed; he took a step forward, his face mere inches from the Science Minister’s. “Don’t make me spell it out, Rasel,” he hissed. His voice dropped to a whisper as he played his final card. “What if this laboratory is not secure?”
At last Rasel folded. He looked furtively about the room, clearly aghast at the very suggestion that his own laboratory might be under surveillance. He nodded stiffly. “Very well. Come with me.”
Lokus followed Rasel from the laboratory to his private office. Rasel locked the door and wordlessly crossed to the back wall. He placed his open palm upon a recessed sensor. Half the wall silently slid away, revealing a compact but beautifully equipped lab. He motioned Lokus inside; as the panel slid shut after them, he finally spoke.
“This room, I assure you, is secure.” He smiled, but the ubiquitous smugness was gone, replaced by something more like simple pride of
Rasel answered his unasked questions. “Operation, as you can see, is extraordinarily simple. All calculations and control functions are now performed by the relocator itself, or rather by its operator.
“As you know, the real work in temporal displacement is the transmission—identifying the target point, obtaining the space-time coordinates, pushing the traveler upstream. But once the connection path is established, callback is fairly straightforward. This new unit takes full advantage of that principle.
“The blue button signals the operator to initiate a controlled return to the point of origin based on the most recently calculated parameters. The red button forces an immediate callback, independent of the relocator’s current settings and without operator intervention.”
“The emergency return,” Lokus paraphrased.
“So to speak,” conceded Rasel. “The net effect, of course, is that the return unit, and thus the temporal traveler, are much less conspicuous.”
“Indeed,” Lokus agreed. He tested the unit’s adhesive pad, trying it on the breast of his tunic, his waistband, his arm. “This would definitely be an asset to a traveler wishing to blend in with the time, to get close to the action.” He handed the unit back to Rasel. “Keep this nearby; I may have need of it very soon.”
Rasel raised one eyebrow. “May I ask—” he began.
“You may not. All I am at liberty to say,” Lokus lied, “is that I may need to… observe a past event.”
The Science Minister frowned, but nodded slightly. “I understand, Vice Governor,” he said coolly, “but I will have to have some coordinates in order to make the transmission. When—if I may be so bold—did the event that you wish to observe occur?”
“I don’t know yet.” Over Rasel’s audible sigh of frustration, Lokus continued, “Which brings me to the other reason I came.”
“Ah,” Rasel brightened, “at last.” The egotistical smile returned. Having finally gained the advantage in their little verbal tussle, he waited patiently for Lokus to ask for his help.
Lokus knew he had to proceed carefully. He was about to request the use of an experimental technology which had nothing to do with time travel, and to which Rasel had the only access. Tricky business, even for Lokus.
“In order to properly identify the event to be observed,” he began casually, “I must do some historical research.” He could see that Rasel was unmoved. “Extensive research. On the Net.”
“Of course, Vice Governor. That is what the Net is for, is it not?” Rasel asked, turning away slightly.
Lokus seethed; he knew the Science Minister was deliberately provoking him. “I do not have time, Rasel,” he said tightly, “for conventional research. I need some specific, detailed information, and I need it quickly.”
A spark of satisfaction flickered in Rasel’s eyes, but he maintained his innocent composure. “Yes,” he said slowly, “but the Net is freely available to all government officials. Why come to me?”
Lokus’s eyes narrowed; he took a step forward, his face mere inches from the Science Minister’s. “Don’t make me spell it out, Rasel,” he hissed. His voice dropped to a whisper as he played his final card. “What if this laboratory is not secure?”
At last Rasel folded. He looked furtively about the room, clearly aghast at the very suggestion that his own laboratory might be under surveillance. He nodded stiffly. “Very well. Come with me.”
Lokus followed Rasel from the laboratory to his private office. Rasel locked the door and wordlessly crossed to the back wall. He placed his open palm upon a recessed sensor. Half the wall silently slid away, revealing a compact but beautifully equipped lab. He motioned Lokus inside; as the panel slid shut after them, he finally spoke.
“This room, I assure you, is secure.” He smiled, but the ubiquitous smugness was gone, replaced by something more like simple pride of
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