Jaunt (18 page)

De Lis checked his wrist chronometer. “We have twenty-one hours, Agents. Now would be a fine time.”

Laser-light dimensions of each respective agent was recorded by the four junior scientists, and work commenced on the final phases of the hazard suits, while the flesh and blood embodiments of the trio assisted in the fabrication of bodysocks to be worn underneath the hazard suits. These sublayers would facilitate the easy removal of waste liquids from the agents, as well as provide an extra layer of comfort and cushion impacts.

Soon the men had been stripped down to nothing and ordered to wear the bodysocks, or “diapers,” as Constantine referred to them. The khaki fabric stretched over their feet and hands, slipping up to their jawline. Restrictive at first, the agents soon adjusted to the uniquely reptilian feel of the ‘socks clasping to their skin, and assured by de Lis that yes, the wicking action of the ‘socks would indeed eradicate any unmentionable moisture.

Once the agents and de Lis were satisfied with the undergarments, the remaining hours of the day passed swiftly. Under the DoD’s strict schedule, the agents concluded their assigned research of the prospective era a few hours early, allowing them time to revisit the just-minted hazard suits waiting for them.

De Lis and Waters conferred with Ivan, Crowe, Lux and Jaquess before bringing the trio of agents in to inspect the final versions of the garb. When all had been settled between the project head and his associates, the agents were reintroduced to the hazard suits, now fully installed with compact interior scanning equipment. Adorning the outfits from the exterior were life support systems units melded into the quilted exolayers, connected to the now-concealed quanta fiber layers. From the front, the suits had been personalized by the junior scientists, with each agent’s surname stitched onto a chest patch.

Waters and de Lis, with holobooks in hand, guided the agents through a crash course in the operation of each suit, providing a holographic checklist of each system, its function, and its energy requirements. The only remaining component left to be completed from the list was the miniature Casimir devices, promised by Roget before the deadline. A flat, circular panel on the backs of the hazard suits indicated where the devices were intended to be placed, patiently waiting for the possibly too experimental mechanisms. Until delivery of the devices, the three agents would have to postpone their first fitting of the hazard suits, tightening the DoD’s already rigid schedule.

Roget wasted no time perfecting his prototype Casimir devices, despite exhausting all but three-and-a-half hours of their allotted timeframe. Even now, while the three agents in their bodysocks were being connected to the hazard suits via a series of narrow, translucent optical fibers, Roget and his four associates sweated away the final details of the intricate connections to the backs of the suits, dodging de Lis’ and Waters’ helpers as they did their own maneuvers.

De Lis instructed the three men to ease their feet into the bottom portion of the hazard suits, one at a time, as if climbing into a sturdy pair of trousers. While Ivan and Crowe held the torso locking mechanisms, the trio sat themselves onto nearby chairs, pulling the leggings taut. Despite the laser measurements taken of each agent’s body, the suits were tighter than anticipated, if de Lis could take the complaints he received as the truth.

“I assure you, gentlemen, the suits conform to your exact measurements. Perhaps you’ve gained water weight?”

The agents groaned, giving de Lis the only answer he expected. Entrenched now in the beige leggings, the agents stood again, testing out the firmness of the boots and the flexibility of the knee joints. Constantine dropped to his haunches once and rose back to his feet, while Gilmour and McKean practiced moving laterally, hoping the quoted mobility of the suits held up in the heat of their respective missions.

“I think we’re ready to go,” Roget announced. With his associates, he carried over the first completed upper body unit, which was inscribed with “GILMOUR.”

Once Roget, Ivan and Crowe were at his side, Gilmour held out his arms, ready to climb into the empty abdomen. As the agent wormed his hands through the suit and found the bulky sleeves, the scientists pitched the suit upwards and slid it down Gilmour’s trunk, resting the metallic abdominal collars together. Swift fingers latched the two halves, locking Gilmour into his hazard suit. Gilmour’s bare hands pulled and tugged at the suit’s abdominal half like a nervous bridegroom; the entire suit felt like one big diaper, and was probably as a pretty as one, too. He flexed his sleeves and tested the extent to which they allowed his arms to maneuver.

“Looks well,” de Lis said. “How does it feel?”

“Heavy, especially with this contraption strapped to my back,” Gilmour answered, jutting his thumb back to the Casimir. “I’ll manage, though.”

“We took thirteen grams off the original design specifications,” Roget said, rising to the device’s defense.

“Good. That’s thirteen less grams to explode into my shoulder blades.”

“Agent Gilmour—” Roget protested.

De Lis held out a hand, quieting Roget. “Lionel, we need to suit up Agent Constantine and Agent McKean.”

Roget sighed, deferring to his boss. Retrieving the next suit piece, the scientists finished Constantine within moments, and concluded with McKean. Waters wheeled into the room a portable tray, displaying three pairs of gauntlets, three fifteen-centimeter-long flat black objects, and the bubble-shaped helmets, complete with fullerene glass faceplates and a set of Heads-Up-Display sensors lining the interiors.

Roget toggled a button on the front panel of each hazard suit, activating all three quantum batteries. A soft hum sounded as power now coursed throughout the fibers lining the hazard suits, vibrating the rib cages of the men.

“You’re all in full power mode,” Roget confirmed, eyeing the green systems status diodes on the chest plates.

De Lis nodded. “Thank you, Lionel. You gentlemen should have sufficient power to run all critical systems in your suits for about a decade, specifications holding true, of course. If for some reason battery power begins to fluctuate or degrade, an immediate infusion of quarks will have to be performed.”

The trio exchanged glances; they’d be damned if they spent more than a few days in those hazard suits.

“We’ll try to make it back before than, Doctor,” Gilmour said.

“Please see that you do.”

“What wonderful toys do we have here?” McKean asked, picking up one of the black objects next to the gauntlets. Holding it up to his eyes, the object betrayed no outward use, looking like nothing more than trim from a military stealth project.

“These are the modes of visualizing your hazard suit’s compliment of sensory devices, as well as system functions,” Waters explained. “A simple voice authorization command activates the holographic interface, eliminating the need for a multitude of material buttons and dials. What’s more, the holographs are visible through your Heads Up Display only, making your suit’s systems that much more covert.”

Gilmour handled a display in his own hands, feeling the smooth surface over his skin.

“Will they work? You've only had a few days to get this up and running.”

“I've got a few friends throughout Washington working on some pet military projects,”

she answered, cracking a smile. “They'll work.”

Gilmour nodded. He hoped Stacia was right, and the short R-and-D period wouldn’t leave them high and dry during the mission.

Waters took the holograph projector from Gilmour and placed the device on his hazard suit’s left forearm, locking it into an empty slot. She locked the two remaining devices onto Constantine’s and McKean’s respective suits, then programmed all three with the wielder’s personal authorization code.

“Refer to the helpware if for any reason you should need assistance in utilizing this,”

de Lis said, citing the holograph projectors again. “Stacia and I personally programmed a virtual guide in the case of an emergency. In that unlikely instance, our voices will lead you to troubleshoot any problems. Right then?”

The trio nodded their heads before familiarizing themselves with the holograph projectors’ angle on their sleeves along with the proper methods of utilizing the invaluable hardware.

Waters handed the agents their gauntlets and pointed to an insignificant tab at the base of Constantine’s right gauntlet palm.

“This is the talon manipulator Richard and I diagrammed to you earlier.” She took back the gauntlet and tugged the tab, revealing a pair of two centimeter-long metal styli, one each from the tips of the index and middle fingers. “Just in case you have to manually manipulate your equipment.”

Constantine opened his mouth to make a crude joke, but McKean’s quick hands covered Constantine’s lips, stifling it in time.

Waters, ignoring Constantine’s attempt at sophomoric humor, pushed the tab in and returned the styli to rest, then handed the gauntlet back to him. The three agents then holstered the gauntlets like sidearms, where electromagnets below their suits’ abdominal rings would hold the gauntlets until needed.

“And lastly....” De Lis proffered the surplus military helmets to the men—customized to form fit each agent’s respective cranial shape, eye equidistance, and vision—then glanced at his wrist chronometer. “We’d better hurry. Javier is expecting us for a final briefing before you depart.”

Unexpectedly to the three agents, U5-1’s ambient buzz had been superseded by a louder smattering of voices, which reached a crescendo as de Lis opened the door out of U5-7 to the main lab.

A circle of the theoretical studies laboratory staff, everyone from Valagua, Marlane and Dark Horse down to the lowest echelon of junior scientists, had gathered in the center of the pristine room, awaiting the “chrononauts.” Rounds of echoing applause greeted the crew, startling the agents into smiles, a gesture they had not expected after the previous weeks’

experiences.

The circle tightened around the three men; generous shoulder clapping and “Good luck”s, “Godspeed,” and even “Thank you”s filled the air, raising the goodwill to deafening levels, drowning out the doubt that had washed over them.

De Lis raised his hands, momentarily lowering the circle’s intensity, and gestured to Javier Valagua.

The historian produced a holobook and read, “On behalf of the Secretary of Defense of the United States of North America, we wish to thank you courageous men for daring to undertake such a hazardous, but necessary, action. We wish you godspeed, and may you return in success. Thank you.”

With equal efficiency, and grateful that the DoD’s message was curt, Valagua replaced the holobook into his jacket pocket and addressed the agents. “It has been a pleasure and privilege to work with a group of such fine agents of this nation. Sharing my knowledge of the circumstances of your mission to you all has been a delight, and I couldn’t have asked for better students. Thank you all.”

Valagua bowed to the trio, bringing a sense of pride and accomplishment to Gilmour, Constantine and McKean, three men who, despite losing two close friends, one a mentor, pressed on with the perhaps foolish operation because it was not only their sworn duty and obligation, but a private vow between them and their lost comrades.

De Lis turned to his senior staff. “Are we ready for final procedures?”

Waters, Valagua, Marlane and Roget consulted their respective holobooks, running down the checklists and searching for any omitted or outstanding entries. Finding none, the four nodded, agreeing that all was ready to go.

“Colonel Dark Horse, web the secretary that Project: Temporal Retrieve is commencing. Stacia, Lionel, distribute the specimens and begin monitoring the Casimir chambers. All right, ladies and gentlemen, let’s get this over with.”

While Valagua, Marlane, Dark Horse, Quintanilla and the junior scientists backed off from the featured agents, Waters and Roget opened the Lockbox and extracted several jewels. Crossing over to the suited and waiting agents, Waters portioned out a pair of jewels for each man, handing them over to Roget, who then unsealed a tiny, circular dropchute on the chestplate of each agent’s hazard suit. Once the first jewel was placed inside the fabricladen dropchute, a tube located below the exterior layers inhaled it and settled the object inside the miniature Casimir chamber on the backs of each agent. The second jewel was given as a replacement, in the event the inexact science of the Casimir vacuum chamber happened to send the primary specimen hurtling through spacetime, which had occurred more often than any of the scientists wished to admit.

“Suit ‘em up.”

At de Lis’ command, Lux and Jaquess stepped forward and gloved the three agents, then topped off the hazard suits with each man’s helmet, latching them into place with a click. The two associates clapped the agents’ arms and gave a thumbs up, signaling all had been completed.

Hearing the okay given from the junior scientists, de Lis gave his own thumbs up to the men. “Good luck.”

Gilmour turned to his two colleagues, and gesturing to his holographic interface, tapped the black device. A flat blue circle, a half-meter in diameter, exploded onto his HUD, astounding him with its brightness, boldness and clarity. Gilmour adjusted his vision to the new technology, reciting the holographic layout he had memorized the day before during their hasty training. Next to him, Constantine and McKean did the same, readying the hazard suits’ systems for the phenomena they were about to experience.