The Great Altruist (44 page)

       
    
“Good. I'll start making one of those for everybody on-board.” Archer got up and ran off the bridge of the ship with more excitement than Roger had seen from him in weeks. Roger took the device off his wrist and put it in his pocket. Before he left the bridge, he looked at the picture of Jennifer he carried everywhere.
One step closer
.

       
    
Val stood bundled in a heavy coat and wool blanket on the deck of the organization's base. The moon was out and reflected off the ocean surface like a mirror. A moment later, she was joined by Roger, who was just as prepared for the cold night air as she was.

       
    
“Sorry for all the secrecy,” Roger said.

       
    
“Oh, it's fine,” she said. “I was just in my room, thinking: 'What a warm, luxurious bath this is! Boy, would I like to stand in the middle of the ocean instead!'” She laughed and nudged Roger in the arm.

       
    
“Val, I'm truly sorry for all this. I know since you've been here, you've been desperate to help me in some way. Well, the time has come. I have a
big
mission for you.”

       
    
“I'm ready, sir.”

       
    
“Good, because this is probably the most important part of the entire goal. I need you to bring back the weapon.”

       
    
“What weapon?
The
weapon?”

       
    
Roger nodded. “We've only made one trip into the future so far and it was to secure the weapons I showed you earlier. Now, I need you to take one of those guns, acquire the weapon, and come back.”

       
    
“Why right now?”

       
    
“Because Archer is busy with a side-project and I want plenty of time to erase the log before he returns in the morning.”

       
    
“How will I know where to look?”

       
    
“Well, think of where such a weapon would be kept in
our
time? It will probably be in the same place. Take as much time as you need there. If it takes you a year to finish your mission, take two years. Just be back here a moment after you leave.”

       
    
“How will I get back?”

       
    
“I'm giving you a remote device that Archer designed.” He handed her the wrist teleporter. “It will not only allow you to move through space but through time as well; and to return to this time. I've already had it synced to the time machine. Once you put it on, it will track your DNA and let you travel wherever – and whenever – you wish.”

       
    
She took the teleporter and fastened it to her wrist. “Any side effects I need to worry about?”

       
    
“No,” he said, “the FDA hasn't approved it yet.”

       
    
She smirked. “And limitations?”

       
    
“Not that Archer has found. Supposedly, it will work wherever you want
it to. He did say anywhere on earth, but he's confident it should work elsewhere.
”

       
    
“I suppose that's as comforting an answer I can expect for a prototype.”

       
    
“Quite right, my dear. Mark the date and time in your device. If you are not back within the hour – my time - I will assume you've been lost.” He put his hands on her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “Please don't let that happen.”

       
    
She nodded. Before he could say another word, she was gone.       
          

       
    
Roger stood on the deck of his floating fortress for only one minute before Val returned. When she did, it took Roger by surprise – not because of the brevity of her journey, which he expected to be relative, but because he was not prepared for what he now saw.

       
    
Val lay collapsed on the deck out of breath and shivering. Her hair was about six inches longer than when she left and it was now a rich, dark red. Her clothing was different, revealing how much fashion would change over the next century. When she coughed, her voice sounded huskier, like she had taken up smoking. Part of Roger knew the possibility existed for Val's mission to take more than a couple of days, but given her appearance she looked as though she may have been gone as much as a year.

       
    
“I didn't get it,” she said under her breath.

       
    
“Are you all right?” Roger drew close to her and took his coat off; he wrapped it around his proudest assistant. A moment later, she sat up and put her head in her hands. She could sense Roger was waiting for an explanation as he crouched nearby, but her head ached too much to talk. Finally, the pain from using the teleporter subsided and she was able to stand.

       
    
“I'll tell you everything,” she said, “but first I need a bath.”

       
    
“Sure,” he said. He wrapped his arm around her for support and helped her to her room.

       
    
Once in her quarters, Roger sat on a chair by the bed while Val disappeared into the bathroom. The tub's faucet started a moment later.

       
    
After a short while, he heard the door open. Val emerged from the bathroom completely naked and searched through her dresser for clothes to wear. Roger, surprised by her uninhibitedness, tried to look the other way. She noticed his discomfort but paid it no mind.

       
    
“It'd been a long two years, Roger,” she said. She finally grabbed a pair of panties, a bra, a pair of slacks, and a blouse from the dresser and threw it on the bed. Instead of dressing, however, she jumped into the bed and began grooming, still ignoring Roger's clear signs of discomfort.

       
    
“I can come back later,” he offered.

       
    
Ignoring him, she continued: “I found out where the weapon is. Funny, how Archer suggested the teleporter would only work on earth; he was right. The weapon is on the moon, in an underground bunker.”

       
    
“I assume it's heavily-guarded, then?”

       
    
“Surprisingly no,” she said as she clipped her toenails. “Travel to the moon is mostly restricted, which is why I couldn't get there. We'll need to get Archer to modify this thing to travel anywhere.”

       
    
“Val,” he said, trying to steal her attention from her feet, “what
happened to you?
”

       
    
She smiled a bit since she expected him to notice how she changed. “Is my body that distracting for you?”

       
    
“Well, no,” he said, “this is your room. Dress how you want. I meant something else actually. You seem different somehow.”

       
    
“If you saw what I did, you'd know why,” she said with no emotion.

       
    
“Tell me.”

       
    
“If there was any doubt in my mind before whether destroying humanity and starting over was actually necessary, it's gone now. The world will get so much worse if we don't intervene. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you are psychic.”

       
    
“What do you mean?”

       
    
“Roger,” she said as she shifted to brushing her hair, “I want you to guess how many people will die from war and starvation in the next hundred years.”

       
    
“I wouldn't begin to speculate.”

       
    
“Over four billion – even more from a new biological weapon they design twenty years from now. The good thing, if you can call it that, is that they've cured all forms of infertility so there were plenty of extra people to die. Almost twelve billion by the end of the century.”

       
    
“Twelve billion?”

       
    
“And it only got worse by the time I arrived. Do you realize how long it took just for me to get a job?” she said, changing subjects suddenly.

       
    
“Why did you get a job?”

       
    
“Because there was no way I was going to learn anything poor. The one thing I didn't have a hard time learning about was the weapon. Everyone knew about it, and everyone knew where it was. But no one knew how to get to it. That's what took so long.”

       
    
“So, what did you end up doing for work?”

       
    
She finished grooming and began getting dressed. “I ended up doing what I spent my whole life here avoiding – the opposite of what I'm doing now,” she said, putting on her bra.

       
    
“You were a dancer?” he exclaimed.

       
    
“And a good one too. I made enough money in three months to buy my own shuttle to the moon!”

       
    
“What took you so long getting back, then?”

       
    
“As ashamed I am of admitting it, it was actually a lot of fun. I hope you don't mind if I indulged myself a bit. I know we have work to do, but I figured 'what's the harm', right?”

       
    
He chuckled. “I suppose nothing. As long as you got it out of your system, my dear. After all, you're destined to remain celibate.”

       
    
She slid her pants and blouse on and affixed her hair into a ponytail. “That was actually my motivator. And yes, it's all out of my system.”

       
    
“Good. I imagine you're hungry?”

       
    
“I'm starving,” she said.

       
    
They left her room and headed for the commissary. As they walked down the corridor, Roger noticed something peculiar about the way Val walked – it was with an air of confidence that seemed to transcend mere comfort in her own skin. Now, she moved with a skip in her step that Roger could only describe as
arrogant. Whatever else happened in the future, it had hardened Val.

       
    
Roger spent several days nursing Val back to health. Although she appeared healthy, the ship's doctor said she was malnourished and so Roger ordered her to stay in her quarters and get some rest. He checked in on her often and within a week, she was ready for duty.