Tales Of the Wheel

A Change of Pace: Part One- How Greener the Grass?

Summer, Earth year 1958- Vancouver, British Columbia

“…Precognition. All available scenarios are recalculated based on the updated data provided. The answer remains unchanged. The development of Precognition in humanity anytime within the first Galactic year of sapience of the Homo Genus results in a complete destruction of linear barriers within the time flow.”

“Shocker,” Irma muttered sarcastically under her breath. She had been hearing variations of that same answer every week for the last six months. At least with UBC’s campus mostly closed for the summer break she could compute these updates in relative peace. Plus, the two stuff shirt professors she plays secretary for as her “Day Job” would be thankfully absent most of the summer, other than the odd annoying phone call. That thought reminded her she ought to get Danny a little thank you gift sometime or at least pass a nice note about him on to his supervisor. As her Wheel assigned ACA (Agent Cover Aide) he was the one who actually did all the work for them anyway.   

When she was recruited by the Wheel {Dam! Has it really been nearly 15 life years} the last thing she figured it would be was boring. She had definitely thought she needed a break from field work, but after a year into this current “ground” assignment and with nearly three more to go before its completion that old saying about the grass always being greener until you get there was really beginning to hit home.

“Thanks A-WALL.” Irma said, “Upload to the hub and begin disconnection.” To any casual observer, Irma was sitting in a large room at a desk in a small booth. The rest of the room was filled with the 2200-pound, 270 vacuum tubes containing ALWAC III-E. A suitably impressive computer for the time, but she could never remember what the acronym stood for.  {A-WALL, or Anomalous Wave Amplification Latent Linearization. That one I can remember at least.}

Somewhere else, or more precisely somewhen else, about half a dozen or so agents were in the various stages of performing the same task she was just completing. Each independently verifying if the latest multi-temporal scans report from Mr. Eye contained any contradictions or possible falsehoods. The ancient alien construct, or robot {hell, it looks like a big TV basically} is apparently essential for the Wheel’s operations and has been so for what we would see as thousands of years now. Of course, those years just might not fall into a neat linear order. But the folks at the hub never seem to fully trust Mr. Eye, hence the invention of the A-WALLS as a “double check”. Irma herself had only ever conversed with Mr. Eye personally once since signing on, sometime into her fourth year of service if she recalled correctly. She walked away from that chat not fully trusting it either.

Each A-WALL is manned by an agent from a different point along the linear line of the Galactic year. Locations are randomized and spread along the time flow to prevent any potential tampering from Mr. Eye or others of all the possible calculation double checks.  Each A-WALL was tied to a specific device in the timeframe and cannot function without that device. Irma knew her stint was going to end in 1961 because history, or her own future in this case, records that is when the University will swap out the ol’ ALWAC III-E for a newer module that her A-WALL would no longer be compatible with. She turns it in; it gets repurposed and re-assigned to another random location and she (hopefully) moves on to something a little less tedious.

“Hell, at least it’s beautiful outside today. I think I’ll go for a little stroll after...” Irma’s train of thought was interrupted by a distinct chirp as the A-WALL completed its disconnection. “An urgent message alert beep.” She thought, nearly toppling her chair over and just realizing she’d been kicked back with both legs resting on the desk for about twenty minutes now like some boozy private dic. {God, I can just hear Grammy’s voice “For Christ sakes girl, at least try to look like you’re working!”} She straightened herself out and typed in her decryption code. The printout read:

Attn: Agent Lewis, Irma

From the Desk of Director S. Saunders

Urgent Temporary Reassignment Order!

Secondary Field Operative required for active Op

Report to Spot ‘B’ by 15:30 Localized Time for Extraction

“Well, I was complaining about being bored.” Irma whistled. Then why did she have that slight sinking feeling that the grass was just going to shift. {Hell me, maybe you really do need a fella. Or at least a few more hobbies than reading dime store P.I. stories and trying not to smoke.} She had time so she entered two quick follow-ups as she burnt the first printout with her trusty pack matches {that you will not light a cig with}.

The first follow up “Who is the Primary Field Operative assigned?” Came back:

Lead Agent Coldfire, Johnathan

“John,” She thought. He had a sort of ‘I’m so above the fray’ air about him that could grate on the nerves from time to time, but he was professional and very competent. It could be worse for certain.  {Danny and I are also convinced his name is made up bullshit.} While she disposed of follow-up number one, she sighed quietly as she read the results of number two. It had been a where/ when question. “Shit… I hate the future.”

Summer, Earth Year 5739- Hub of the Wheel, Central Coma Cluster

“Irma!” Danny exclaimed with a smile as she walked into the office.  The officer on deck at Retrieval had informed her she had couple linear hours before the briefing unless she wanted to jump ahead. “Why not catch up with some familiar faces.” {Danny, you really just want to talk to Danny gal… oh shut up me!} Mei Ling waved at her from across the hall as well, a freshly lit smoke in hand, before returning to her monitors. Irma smiled back trying not to salivate as the smell floated over {Classic American, a Marlboro or maybe a Camel. Dam, it smells good!} Whenever she saw Mei Ling, the only time she didn’t have a smoke in her hand was when she was chugging a large coffee or stuffing her face with some pastry. Yet she always looked like a million bucks with a tightness to her amble curves that a 22-year-old Irma would have been jealous of. She knew Ling was born at least a couple centuries after her time, so she must use at least a little outside ‘enhancement’ to maintain such a figure {Keep telling yourself that anyway gal. Say, didn’t the odd smoke or two always help curb my appetite… oh shut up me!}

“Good to see you stranger!” Danny continued, “Sorry for the interruption. I know you requested the ground assignment for a little peace and quiet. I’m told it’ll be a quick one. Also,” he chuckled as he gestured for Irma to sit down. “No dealing with displaced Mammoths strapped with Laser Gatlings attacking overland Frankish trade routes this time, they promise.”

“So, a boring one then.” Irma laughed casually as she sat across from him. {Did that laugh sound too forced? Why did I put jeans on before coming? I knew I was going to stop by Danny’s desk. I look good in that new pencil skirt. Not Mei Ling good, but still pretty god dam good for 36…oh goddam it! Shut up me!!}. “Hey Danny, you mentioned your where ‘told’ this would be a quick one. You’re not briefing us then? Are you ditching me sailor?”

“Wha.. never Irma.” He Blurted out loud while trying not to blush. Irma smiled and tried to do the same while neither of them noticed that Ling hid her own smile behind her monitor and just shook her head. “Kids!” she thought, “When would one of them finally just make the move?” Of course, to be fair, as a true post Human birthed from X-Gene Research Corp.’s H.E.R.O. project from the later 22^nd century, Ling indeed had an absolutely stellar ‘million buck’ figure, which belied the fact that she was approaching her one hundred and sixty seventh linear year in a few months. So, a lot of folks were ‘kids’ by her standard.

“It’s not like that, Irma. Hey… before I forget, I wanted to tell you in person how sorry I am about your grammy’s recent passing. She seemed like a really great lady.”  “Thanks Danny,” Irma really meant that. “The card you sent meant a lot”. Likely in his early to mid-40’s, Danny was of average height and build, with a mop of dirty blond hair that had a few greys starting their slow but inevitable takeover. His face wouldn’t necessary be leading man material, but there was always a spark of mischief in his eyes that Irma found irrepressible. {Thoughtful, funny and a stable career. A gal could do a lot worse…All right, all right me! I am shutting up now! Promise}. “You too Mei.” Irma quickly directed to Ling, whose signature was the only other one on the card besides… “I got a chuckle about the fact that you added a quick note from the Eye as well.” Did Danny just blush again? “Actually,” he said after a slight uncomfortable silence, “Mei and I, we weren’t sure that you’d want… I guess I mean it was actually Mr. E’s suggestion that a card would be a nice gesture. His note was from him, not us.”

Before Irma could process that statement, Danny shifted back to the issue at hand, “Other than flagging you with the basics, I’m pretty much in the dark on this one. Director Saunders herself will be spearheading the briefing with Coldfire. Message, set up the retrieval and then move on. That’s all I got other than the notes that the operation would be a quick in and out. Word around the cooler is a Pre-Cog induced deficiency in standard Novikov self-consistency principle procedures require the replacement of the Secondary mid operation.” “Pre-Cog induced.” Irma whistled unconsciously again. “So overall it’s something big.” Danny nodded, “Likely, yes.” But his helpless shrug confirmed that they really hadn’t told him jack. Likely even his tepid assertion that for her it was a quick ‘in and out” was based more on reliable office gossip than any official statement. Also, 4^th Order Director Susan Saunders will be attending the briefing herself? That was like the executive who struggles to remember your name at the annual Christmas Party randomly inviting themself to a Thursday happy hour. If Coldfire could be too preachy sometimes and Mr. Eye seemed sketchy all the time, then Saunders was…intimidating.

“Why don’t I walk you to the briefing room?” Danny stated, “I could use a stretch of the ol’ legs.”  Irma nodded and as they were getting up to leave Ling chimed in, “Hey, if you have the time, feel like taking the long way around? Listening wants this report.” She held up a small tablet with one hand while dabbing out the butt of her smoke in an ashtray with the other. “No Problem, lots of time.” Danny responded as he grabbed the pad. “Hey, want anything from the break room when I swing back?” “I’d kill for another one of these.” Mei was pointing to her now nearly empty jumbo-sized disposable coffee, “And if there are any of the Sour Cream & Glazed donuts left, grab a couple of those too. Thanks, you’re the best Danny.” She was already in the process of lighting another smoke as Irma and Danny exited the office floor.