The Paradox Initiative (26 page)

Kestrel walked down a metal-floored aisle between rows of machinery preceded and followed by an armed man wearing black.
Her body felt much lighter now, back to normal—except for the occasional chill that raced down to her fingers. Ahead of the guard in front of her walked William Jakiv, purposeful and silent. Once in a while, he glanced to either side of him, his delicate brow furrowed. Kestrel closed her hands into fists.

Finally, they turned a
corner…

And passed three tall, cylindrical machines.

Kestrel’s steps faltered.

Identical machines.

And all of them just like the one that had exploded in her shop at the spaceport.

The guard behind her pushed her forward. Her thoughts jolted.
Jakiv stopped next to a small, circular platform and turned toward her.

“Up here, please.” He gestured to it. Kestrel stopped, setting her jaw.

The guard behind her jabbed her with his gun.

She bit her cheek, then stepped up onto the platform. Her footsteps rang.
She winced.

The space underneath this platform was hollow.

She carefully turned around, back toward Jakiv…

Snap.

Her feet froze. She gasped and looked down—

A green forcefield enveloped each
foot. She tried to lift her right one—it wouldn’t budge. Like it had been dried in cement.

Her
throat closed.

“Don’t mind that,” Jakiv
soothed, facing the same way she did, toward a door just twenty meters away. He picked up a handheld device. “That’s just to keep you out of the way for a moment.” He paused, and looked back at her. “Oh, and—one word out of you, and I’ll kill him.”

Kestrel
choked, watching the two guards pass behind her and stand at the ready.

“Sir,” a voice emitted from a Grammcom lying on Jakiv’s table.

“Yes, Barrymore?” Jakiv asked.

“We have an intruder on level one.”

“Excellent,” Jakiv said. “He’s right on time. Keep me updated.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jakiv punched three buttons on his handheld device, then waved it past the back of his head. He punched another three buttons, then waved it by his head again. He repeated this process three more times. Then, he set the device down on the table, brushed back his lab coat and put his hands in his trousers pockets.

“Sir, he is attempting to penetrate the security checkpoint,” the voice over the Grammcom said again.

“Quicker than I expected,” Jakiv remarked. “Give him a little trouble, then let him through.”

“Acknowledged.”

Kestrel stared at Jakiv. Questions hammered the front of her mind, but she stamped them down, stiffening.

“He’s through,” came the guard’s voice.
“He’s taken a gun.”

“Has he killed anyone?” Jakiv wondered.

“No, sir,” came the answer. “But he’s stunned three of us.”

“Hm.
” Jakiv paused a moment, then spoke up. “Make sure he finds his way in here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kestrel’s heartbeat took off, shuddering against her breastbone. She battled to regulate her breath, to keep from shaking…

“Sir, he is
fifty meters from your door.”

“We’re ready in here,” Jakiv replied. “Let him come in.”

Kestrel’s fists quivered.

Jakiv lowered his head, staring at the door—and went completely still.

Sparks shot from the doorframe.

The door groaned and gapped open.

A left hand shot through, shoved the door out of the way—

Jack Wolfe charged through, his broad chest heaving, his skin and clothes dirty and burnt.
His boots thundered on the metal flooring as his long strides closed the distance in a matter of seconds. A heavy pistol clicked in his scuffed hand as he raised it, and aimed right at William Jakiv.

“You let her go,
Doc,” Wolfe snarled, his eyes blazing as he drew to a halt. “Or God help me, I will kill you.”

“I appreciate your
anxiety,” Jakiv replied, standing just as he was. “You’ve just had men shooting at you, after all.”

Wolfe hefted his gun, his mouth hardening. Jakiv raised his eyebrows.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he halfway smiled. “You’re thinking, ’I’m just going to blast this poor devil through the brains and have done with it.’ But if that
is
your decision, I feel obligated to warn you about the consequences.”

Wolfe’s eyes narrowed. Jakiv went on.

“You see, I have several sensors implanted in the back of my head,” he lifted his hand out of his pocket and pointed at his skull. “I can program them at will. At the moment, if something should happen to my vital signs—any penetration of any foreign object or energy into any part of my body—the door underneath your friend Miss Evans here will open up.” Jakiv glanced over at her, and lifted an eyebrow. “And I am actually not sure what it opens up
into
. I believe it may be a vent into an elevator shaft we haven’t finished. Whatever it is, it’s a long drop.” He faced Wolfe again. “Also, all the security in the base will be alerted—and
those
machines next to you will all violently self-destruct.”

Wolfe
’s eyes reflexively followed where Jakiv pointed—

And
he caught sight of the cylindrical machines.

He stared at them, shifting his weight, flexing his fingers on his uplifted gun.

He swallowed.

“I see you recognize them,” Jakiv noted. “Perhaps now we can talk. Like
rational
men. Not the way we spoke when we first met.”

Wolfe’s head came around. Kestrel flooded with confusion.

Wolfe’s jaw clenched.

“You’re Jakiv,” he hissed. “You’re William Jakiv.”

“It’s a pleasure, Lieutenant,” Jakiv inclined his head, then put a hand to his heart. “An honor, truthfully. I’ve never been in the presence of such a distinguished and selfless hero in my life.” Jakiv regarded him openly, his blue eyes bright. “A Medal of Honor recipient in the American Civil War, a Purple Heart recipient in the Vietnam police action.” He shook his head. “As I said—I am honored.”

Wolfe kept his gun
pointed where it was.

“What do you want from me?” he asked roughly.

“I want what you want,” Jakiv answered. “To send you back to your wife.”

Kestrel’s fists clenched harder. Wolfe said nothing—he waited.

“I know exactly what happened,” Jakiv went on, softly holding Wolfe’s gaze. “I was there. I was one of the landing party when we arrived at your homestead. It was our first Time expedition—the very first leap into my great exploration: The Paradox Initiative.” The words lifted into the air as he spoke them—and he raised his chin as his expression sparked. “The plan to insert new threads into the great weaving that is Time.” The spark faded, replaced by sadness. “We had no idea we would intrude upon your settlement,” he murmured earnestly. “You must believe me. We thought we would be landing somewhere in the middle of the vast and untamed West. Not your backyard.”

“But you did,” Wolfe shot back.

“I know,” Jakiv nodded. “And there was a misunderstanding, and a terrible accident—”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Wolfe cut in. “Your man deliberately fired on my house—”

“After you’d shot and killed several others,” Jakiv finished sharply. “More lives were lost than just your wife’s—remember that.”

Wolfe’s expression snarled and his grip tightened on his gun.

“I’m not here to squabble over details—details that are burned into
both
our memories,” Jakiv said, his voice quieting again. “All I ask is that you listen to me for a moment, and consider what I propose.”

Wolfe fell silent—then glanced at Kestrel.

Her heart skipped a beat.

“
Never fear,” Jakiv soothed. “As long as I’m alive, she’ll stay where she is.”

Wolfe held her gaze for a moment longer, then returned his attention to Jakiv.

“Talk fast.”

“Very well,” Jakiv nodded
—but when he spoke, he did so calmly. Deliberately. “Several years ago, when I was studying molecular biology and genetics, I met and fell in love with a young woman named Marianne. She illuminated my mind, my soul—she inspired me to achieve great things.” Jakiv’s slight smile faded. “Not three years after we were married, Marianne was diagnosed with a rare, fatal disease.” He lifted his eyebrows. “You can imagine my instant desperation.”

Wolfe’s gaze flickered. Kestrel honed in on Jakiv’s every word.

“I researched the disease thoroughly, and discovered that the use of human cloning would provide a cure.” Jakiv leaned back against the table, and turned his attention to the floor. “I brought to bear every ounce of influence and money and power I could muster—but nothing I did or said could convince the government to legalize human cloning for medical purposes. Then, when I realized I was failing in every
legal
arena, I attempted
illegal
methods—but I had exhausted my funds. I failed.” He paused. He rubbed his fingers together. “She died in my arms.”

Wolfe’s gun faltered.

Kestrel shivered.

“And the last thing I said to her,” Jakiv murmured. “Was a vow to make this right.” He lifted his head. Met Wolfe’s eyes. “And so I began a new avenue of study. I proposed plans for hospitals and health centers on interstellar cruisers, and began an entire chain. These provided the funding and clout I needed to buy a portion of the Gain Station, and build this laboratory here. And I began, quietly at first, then with mor
e momentum, to explore the possibilities of Time Travel.”

Wolfe’s eyes narrowed to slits
. Jakiv held up a finger.

“
Again, I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “Why go back in time just to watch my wife die all over again? And you’re right—that would be useless. And it would also be useless to the others all over the galaxy dying from this disease. So
this
is where
you
come in, John Angus Wolfe.”

“What do you mean?” Wolfe demanded.
Jakiv’s aspect hardened.

“An organization called Project Unfettered, an anti-human-trafficking movement
, proved to be a massive obstacle to my efforts in saving my wife,” he said. “It has adopted the anti-cloning position, and it receives much of its funding from a vast business empire owned by a young man named Ian Conrad.”

Kestrel started.
Ian Conrad—the man who had pulled strings to get them on board the
Exception
—

“After my debacle with you, I decided a more subtle approach would be wise,” Jakiv continued. “One that could not be traced. So I sent men back in time to kill one of Ethan Conrad’s prominent ancestors. Kill the ancestor, and you eliminate the problem descendant.” He paused. A gleam entered his eye. “And this is when I uncovered an important piece in the
ever-unfolding puzzle: Time is not a single line. And time-
travel
is
not
hopping back and forth along that single line, but rather it is a weaving of oneself back and forth along
several
lines, creating a new pattern of explored possibility. Therefore, alternate timelines are created, and some can be tied off and finished and made inaccessible by other weavers as the pattern continues to be created. Loops can be formed, overlaps and crossings. And when my missing time machine’s thread and yours encountered each other, your thread pulled free, and the machine wove you into various pieces of the grand weaving as it automatically brought itself back to its original time—inserting your brilliant thread into some of the darkest patterns of history.” Jakiv fell silent a moment. “And so, when I set out to kill Conrad’s ancestor, your thread had already twined around his. The dark thread that followed Ian Conrad all the way back to his grandfather
without
your influence had been tied off and made untouchable to me—I couldn’t weave with it anymore,” Jakiv explained, gesturing carefully. “If I had
not
accidentally given you the means to time travel in the first place, I could have woven my own thread around Conrad’s and killed him without interference. But the bright thread was already there.” Jakiv smiled. “And so he lived.”