Already, there had been a brief and furious battle between the commandos of the First Division and soldiers of the Special Operations Group from the congruent universe. The greatest threat was that a force from the congruent universe would locate an undiscovered confluence point and cross over undetected to create a temporal disruption, as they had attempted to do in the Khyber Pass in the year 1897. The enemy was operating on the theory that increased temporal instability would serve to diminish the confluence effect or even eliminate it by creating a timestream split. Chaos, thought Steiger, was an understatement for what was going down.
The tension was evident on the faces of the soldiers in the plaza. In the Time Wars, the mortality rate had always been very high. Death could come from a spear thrust or a bullet. Oblivion could arrive with the rupture of a spacesuit or the explosion of a land mine. For a soldier of the Temporal Corps, there were a thousand ways to die. Now there was one more.
None of these soldiers about to clock out on long term assignments in the past, in Minus Time, knew what to expect. They had been briefed as fully as possible, programmed through their cybernetic implants with the languages, customs and histories of the periods to which they were assigned, but if by chance they happened to clock back into the past at the exact location of a confluence, the odds against their ever coming back were astronomical.
No one had yet crossed over into the congruent universe. The theory was that if a confluence point could be discovered and a crossover achieved, then returning would be a "simple" matter of retracing one's steps exactly. Turn a corner, Steiger thought, and you're in another universe. But if you were to clock directly into a convergence, with no physical reference for the confluence point, how would you find the corner? Once in the congruent universe, clocking backwards or forwards would only result in time travel within that universe. Because of the confluence effect, every temporal transition would now be even more uncertain.
Until now, Steiger had found his duties as a T.I.A. agent challenging enough. Now, General Forrester was considering a new type of mission for them. If a confluence point could be located, one the people in the congruent universe were unaware of, then Forrester meant for them to attempt a crossover. The object of such a mission would be to disrupt the temporal continuity of the congruent timestream. Their job had always been to prevent historical disruptions. Now, they would be trying to create them.
"We've got to do it to them before they do it to us," Forrester had said during one of their regular briefings. "It's as simple as that. They're apparently working on the assumption that if they create a massive temporal disruption in our time-line, the resulting timestream split will overcome the confluence effect at our expense. For all anybody knows, they may be right."
"Dr. Darkness doesn't think so," Steiger had said, referring to the scientist whose experiments with tachyon transition had altered his subatomic structure, making him the only human who was faster than the speed of light. Dr. Darkness believed it was equally possible for a timestream split to compound the confluence effect, resulting in multiple timestreams intersecting, but the only way to prove that was the hard way, something no one was anxious to do.
"I know what Darkness thinks," Forrester had said, "and I'm inclined to listen to him. However, the trouble is we have no choice. The alternative would be fighting a purely defensive action, something we just can't afford to do. If we disrupt their timestream, then our counterparts in the congruent universe will have to conduct their own historical adjustment missions to compensate for what we've done. If we can keep them busy doing that, they'll have less time to interfere with our history."
"So we cause disruptions in their timestream which they'll have to adjust and they'll do it right back to us," Capt. Finn Delaney said. "It's madness. Where does it all end?"
"Who knows?" Forrester said, wearily. "The Time Wars have been escalated into a new dimension. Literally. Nobody knows how it will end. We'll just have to ride it out."
The shuttle arrived at the entrance to the Headquarters Building of the Temporal Army Command. As Steiger entered the spacious lobby, he paused before the Wall of Honor, which listed the names of soldiers of the First Division who had died in action. Steiger stared at the most recent name added to the wall, that of his predecessor, Lt. Col. Lucas Priest.
Before the Temporal Intelligence Agency had been merged with the Temporal Army Corps, Steiger had been the T.I.A.'s senior field agent, code named Phoenix. Lucas Priest had been his counterpart in the First Division of the Temporal Corps, the elite commando unit assigned to deal with temporal disruptions. The temporal adjustment team of Lt. Col. Lucas Priest, Lt. Andre Cross and Capt. Finn Delaney had the most impressive record in the corps. Now that the First Division and the T.I.A. had merged, Steiger was the ranking officer after Moses Forrester, replacing the late Lt. Col. Priest as the exec. It was a large pair of boots to fill.
He snapped to attention and saluted the wall, according to tradition. Priest had given his life to preserve the past. Now those left living in the present would have to risk their lives to save the future.
1
The mission team sat in the darkened briefing room, watching the holographic presentation. The three-dimensional laser image of the centaur slowly revolved before them as the recorded voice of Dr. Hazen dispassionately described the examination procedure. At the appropriate moment in the briefing, the image of the centaur dissolved to the scanner graph recording, showing the interior organs and the skeletal structure. At the point where the recording switched to the psych team's debriefing session, Forrester allowed it to continue for a few moments, so the agents could have an opportunity to see the centaur, in its conditioned state, responding to the questions put to it in ancient Greek. The he switched the projection off and brought the lights back up.
"The centaur's name is Chiron," he said. "A check with Archives Section reveals that the name first appeared in old Greek legends. Its earliest recorded mention is reported in a story told by Apollonius of Rhodes, one of the librarians of Alexandria. According to the story, which was reputedly based upon actual exploits of seamen of the Mycenaean Bronze Age, Chiron was half-man, half-horse; a teacher who lived in a cave on Mount Pelion centuries before the time of Christ. The young boys who were brought to him for instruction became the greatest heroes of the ancient legends, among them Jason, Theseus and Hercules. The centaur confirmed this information during the interrogation session."
"Confirmed it?" said Delaney. "But those are all mythical figures!"
Forrester made a wry face. "Indeed they are, Captain. As are centaurs, I believe."
Under other circumstances, the exchange would have been funny, but no one laughed.
"What we are apparently confronted with," Forrester continued, "is our first example of how the congruent universe differs from ours. The centaur came through a confluence, appearing in our timestream during the year 219 b.c., at the beginning of the Second Punic War. It caused a considerable amount of excitement among some of Hannibal's troops before our Observers on the scene were able to capture the creature and clock back with it. I won't bother speculating whether our happening to have Observers on the scene was pure dumb luck or a manifestation of the Fate Factor, magnified by inertial surge in the presence of a confluence. I'll leave that brain bender to the scientists. Zen physics only gives me headaches. I'll simply concentrate on what this creature's appearance in our timestream means to us.