From Time to Time

By Marius A Smith

Framed for a smuggling operation across time that he discovered by chance, the young vampire William is exiled into Earth's distant history. When he finds that his adversary from the future has followed him to ancient Egypt, he realises that what he stumbled across goes much deeper than a simple matter of smuggling. With his close friends Luke and Larissa trying to clear his name in the twenty sixth century, he struggles to stay alive long enough to be exonerated, while at the same time trying to find answers about what's really going on, and why his adversary from the future still considers him a threat.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marius A Smith
• Release date: Mar 31, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476398952

Marius A Smith

Marius Augustus Smith was born in 1981 in Adelaide, Australia, and is a life-long fan of science fiction. He has travelled to many places around the world, with many more he has yet to visit, although some destinations can only be travelled to in the mind (at least until the invention of warp drive!). Also having an interest in history, especially ancient cultures, and Egypt in particular, Marius has incorporated these interests into his books. His favourite authors include Alexandre Dumas, Kevin J. Anderson, Drew Karpyshyn, Anne Rice and J. K. Rowling. Some of his not-so-common experiences include shovelling coal in a 1920s locomotive, and being an extra in a police line-up. Marius currently lives in Australia with his wife.

Book preview

FROM TIME TO TIME

The Course of Time

BOOK ONE

Marius A. Smith

The Course of Time:

Larissa

Cerah

From Time to Time

The Time of Humanity

Time and Time Again

The Time of Sacrifice

Mysteries of Time

From the Depths of Time: Part One

From the Depths of Time: Part Two

Time’s Curse

In Times of War: Part One

In Times of War: Part Two

Copyright © 2024 Marius A. Smith

This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.

Published by Marius A. Smith at Smashwords

All historical individuals or places mentioned or referred to in this book are portrayed in a purely fictitious sense. All other characters are purely fictitious, and no resemblance to individuals living or dead is intended.

In conjunction with contemporary research sources, part of this work uses The Book of Mormon purely as an ancient historical reference, with permission. Within that section several fictitious characters have been added for this story, and any people or places portrayed or referred to from The Book of Mormon have been renamed to avoid misrepresentation, and have been incorporated in a purely fictitious and non-doctrinal sense.

This book is not in any way a work of doctrine.

First edition published by Raider Publishing International in 2009

This revised edition published in 2024

No part of this work may be reproduced or copied in any form without the prior permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1

Exile

Time seems to have a way of coldly turning against you, even after years of protecting it, the vampire thought grimly as he plummeted towards his inevitable demise. Then, with determination, he promised himself, I might not have been born yet, but I’m sure as hell not going to die here.

The shuttle shuddered and lurched, tumbling out of control as it violently entered Earth’s atmosphere at high speed. The life support system and spatial stabiliser were both offline. The air was almost completely devoid of oxygen, and what little remained was running out quickly. The solitary occupant fought desperately to remain consciousness while being thrown about the cockpit. Forcing himself up from the floor, he made it onto his knees before the helm controls, hanging on to the main chair for support. A more violent thud threw him to the back of the cockpit into the side of the doorway, and a constant vibration through the floor was accompanied by a loud grinding for several seconds before it abruptly ceased, leaving a sharply contrasting silence. The shuttle had crashed aft-first and skidded across the ground to a halt.

The asphyxiating vampire knew amid his clouded thoughts, which were hurtling towards delirium, that he had to find the strength to move before oblivion triumphed. His whole body felt like it was going numb, aside from his aching lungs that were starving for oxygen. Every inch a cherished achievement, he pulled himself out of the cockpit on his elbows to the exit hatch in the side wall of the room behind it. He’d already lost everything except for his life, and that only by good graces alone, and while that might’ve defeated another man it only drove him forward with greater determination. It was more than survival instinct or the agony in his bursting lungs; it wasn’t in him to give up, especially when he needed answers. With a final thrust of what little energy he had left, he threw his hand up towards the illuminated panel on the wall, and after a moment’s fumbling his fingers managed to locate the release control before he collapsed against the hatch. With a soft hiss the hatch slid aside and the air pressure equalised. Warm fresh air spilled into the room.

In that same moment, with the hatch no longer holding him up, he fell through the opening and onto hot sand, gasping for breath so quickly and uncontrollably that the sudden rush of oxygen made him light-headed and completely disorientated. Almost immediately, when his skin had regained some sensation, the pain in his aching chest gave way to a scalding pain as his vampire skin started to smoulder in the harsh afternoon sunlight. He felt like he was about to burst into flames, to be consumed by the inherent curse of vampirism. But gradually the pain subsided, and he momentarily wondered if he was dying, which could’ve been seen as merciful relief in light of his recent fall from grace if he wasn’t so determined to resolve the situation, or at the very least find out what had really happened and why. He’d hunted criminals through time and space, across every conceivable terrain, and his perseverance had always been the key factor of his victories in any situation.

After a few minutes his mind cleared and his heart rate slowed back to normal. He moved his hand slowly through the sand and felt the grains slipping between his fingers. Wearily, he opened his eyes and looked up at the sky, a clear blue sky that he’d never expected to see again. A quarter moon was visible, but he already knew he was on Earth. Being unaccustomed to seeing the sun for a few years now, except through filtered windows, it was too blindingly bright for him to even look in its general direction. Raising his head to look at his surroundings he saw that he’d come down in a desert, with only a single oasis on the horizon.

His skin was a little singed, but it wouldn’t take long to heal. He’d caught his breath, so he rested his head back on the sand and his thoughts at last succumbed to oblivion as the exhaustion from his recent ordeals caught up with him, coupled with the lingering effects of the sedative he’d been given prior to his exile.

*

Thousands of years away, on an orbiting station thousands of kilometres above Earth, the vampire’s arrival in the distant past was being confirmed.

The guidance beacon reports that the time shuttle has arrived at the exile location, sir, a mildly podgy young ensign named Colin Finch informed his superior. But... he added with concern, he’s arrived during the day. The beacon must’ve malfunctioned.

Admiral Bruce Rivette looked over the ensign’s shoulder to double check the telemetry they were receiving with an expression of composed concern. Run a bio-scan through the beacon to make sure he survived, he ordered.

Ensign Finch promptly made the scan through time. A few moments later he sighed with relief and looked up at the admiral with a smile that was mostly restrained by formality. I’m pleased to report that Commander Herschel is alive, sir.

He’s not a commander anymore, the admiral reminded him, though not unkindly.

Ensign Finch cleared his throat nervously. Of course, sir.

Run final scans of his and the shuttle’s status, and then shut down the beacon so that he won’t pick up its power signature on his sensors. Send your report to me when you’re done, the admiral said, and turned and started walking away at an unhurried pace, glancing over the shoulders of people at nearby consoles to see the readings on their displays.

All around the enormous scanning room Temporal Security personnel were carrying out their duties with professional efficiency, which mainly consisted of running scans all over the world in different time zones for anything out of the ordinary. Dozens of consoles lined the walls, and more formed a wide ring in the centre of the room, above which was an immense holographic timeline display. On it, a thick blue line represented the current timeline of established history, with several red lines branching away from it at different angles, almost parallel, indicating subtle changes that they were tracking, or potential changes that might be caused by the presence of historical researchers visiting the past, which could usually be averted rather than corrected. Any that had already been rectified were shown in green, and were still being studied thoroughly before being archived.

The Temporal Security personnel all wore similar uniforms; black buttonless long-sleeved shirts, formal-style black trousers, and black boots. The only real difference was the colour of the suede jackets they wore over the top, resembling formal dinner jackets tailored in a modern cut. The colour signified rank. Colin Finch, being an ensign, wore a dark green jacket. The admiral stood out with the silver jacket of his office. Around the room some of the personnel wore a few other colours, with a couple of dozen crewmembers without rank who wore grey jackets.

The admiral pulled back his left sleeve to reveal a device similar to a wristwatch, though much more advanced. It was a multiple-function communication device, commonly abbreviated as a multi-com. He tapped the circular screen and said, Larissa. A moment later the face of a young and beautiful Asian woman appeared on it, her raven-black hair neatly coiled into a bun on the back of her head.

Bruce, how did it go? Larissa asked with controlled anxiety.

He made it safely, so there’s no need for concern, the admiral reassured his much younger wife.

Larissa’s face visibly relaxed. That’s good. Needless to say, I was quite worried. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. As she spoke the tips of her elongated vampire teeth became visible.

Yes, I know, the admiral replied in his deep but gentle voice. I’ve done all I can for him. I’m afraid he’s on his own now. I’ve got quite a lot to take care of tonight, and countless reports to review before I send them to the fleet admiral, so I probably won’t be home until after 2100, but we can talk more then if you like. He touched the screen and her face vanished. After thinking for a moment he touched the screen again and said, Luke Hawking, wondering for a moment why the man in question hadn’t yet reported back to the temporal scanning room when the shuttle launch had been over quarter of an hour ago, at least to those on the time station. It had been close to a day for the shuttle’s occupant.

A slightly puffed voice behind him said, Right here, sir.

The admiral turned to see the familiar face looking at him with earnest anticipation so he cancelled the call, at once putting aside all thought of questioning Luke’s lack of punctuality upon seeing the look of controlled concern on his face. The blue-eyed lieutenant commander wore the light red jacket of his rank. His hair was short and spiked, its colour similar to that of the sands of a Hawaiian beach. His closely trimmed goatee had been carefully shaped. Briefly, the admiral wished that his seventy-nine-year-old face topped with greying hair still looked as young as the twenty-five-year-old face in front of him. Even if he was that young, his wife would still outlive him by many centuries since he was an ordinary human, just like the man in front of him. With the average human life span being over 120 years, the admiral was only late middle-aged, but that was definitely old enough to be envious of Luke’s youthful vibrance. Luke was quite young to have the rank that he did, but his vampire friend now in exile, who was also 25, had achieved the rank of commander before his fall in status, and was the youngest person to have advanced so quickly. Until recently it was thought to be indisputably well earned.

The admiral put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and said with an almost fatherly smile, He made it, Luke. He’s alive.

Luke was obviously immensely relieved at the news, but still not entirely content. That’s great, but with your permission, I’d like to continue the investigation. I’m still certain he’s innocent, sir.

I understand how you feel, hoping that somehow the verdict was a mistake. I assure you, we all feel the same, the admiral said kindly. By all means, keep the investigation going. I’ll inform Fleet Admiral Morgan and endorse your efforts. Report to me immediately if you turn up anything new, and we’ll act on it accordingly.

Thank you, sir! Luke said with genuine appreciation.

For now, why don’t you take a break and plan how you want to proceed.

Certainly, sir.

Carry on, Lieutenant Commander, Admiral Rivette dismissed him, unable to completely keep the smile from his face. He couldn’t help but admire the younger man’s undaunted enthusiasm and loyalty to his disgraced friend.

After a courteous nod that was almost formal enough to be symbolic of a bow, since saluting wasn’t generally done in Temporal Security outside of official ceremonies, Luke made his way across the room to the lift at the end of a short passage and began his descent from the temporal scanning room on deck 10 to deck 38, which was almost entirely devoted to restaurants, bars and cafés. This time station is just too big, he thought to himself as the lift began its swift descent. It was one of two massive time stations in high orbit above Earth. Epoch and its sister station Jidai were identical 90-deck stations, and to get from the upper decks to the lower ones seemed to take a considerable amount of time when one was in a hurry, despite how swift the lifts actually were, but fortunately he wasn’t going that far down.

Each station was constantly enveloped in a massive time field that separated it from normal space-time, which enabled the crew to monitor changes in the timeline while remaining protected from their effects. Such changes would only occur if someone made an unauthorised journey through time and altered history for personal gain, political power, revenge, the sheer desperation of trying to undo the death of a loved one, or any other reason. Sometimes it was simply by mistake, such as during a research mission if things didn’t go to plan. If the time stations were exposed to Earth’s causality they too would be affected by the change and remain unaware of any difference, which was why it was essential that they remain constantly isolated from normal space-time. Jidai had been constructed several years earlier than Epoch, but following several instances when Jidai’s time field and sensors had failed for short periods due to unexplained malfunctions it had been deemed necessary to build a second fully-equipped station as a safeguard against any such incidents in the future. That way if a change in established history did occur during a malfunction the other station would remain unaffected and be able to carry out any necessary action, such as dispatching a squad to correct it, which Luke and his exiled friend had often led. But rectification was by no means the stations’ sole function; historical research through time using the temporal scanners was also conducted from both of them, and frequent expeditions into the past were launched and closely monitored for the purpose of gathering more detailed information from within history itself. Even after all of the research that’d already been done, the historical database was still largely incomplete. And all too often, the actual events observed were somewhat different to what was portrayed in the old history books, since they’d often been written with political bias or misinformation, such as the death of Cleopatra, the famous Queen of Egypt, who’d used an asp to kill Mark Antony and then her publicly unknown twin sister in order to fake her own death, knowing that Augustus was planning to assassinate her. Luke had led the historical investigation of that event, and had almost been killed by an Assyrian spy in the process, though fortunately that encounter hadn’t led to an alteration in history.

The lift doors opened and Luke stepped out to be greeted by the din of hundreds of simultaneous conversations. There were restaurants of all descriptions in every direction, both on the level he was on and also the one above that had numerous balconied walkways overhead, with a thick throng of people congregating around each establishment as they met friends and made the difficult choice of where to dine. There were as many alien cafés and bars as there were of human cultures, most of them quite crowded at any given time, day or night, as the establishments catered for every shift around the clock.

Luke was always drawn into the relaxed and usually jovial atmosphere as soon as he stepped out of the lift. The aromas of the diverse range of food types sparked his appetite. He strolled towards a place called Green Tim’s, his restaurant of choice, politely dodging his way through the crowd of people who were making their way at a leisurely pace to or from the restaurants. The name Green Tim’s was derived from the fact that the man who ran the establishment was half human and half Resurian; a reptilian species that possessed accelerated regenerative capabilities but also scaly green skin. Like anyone, Luke had been more than a little surprised to learn that the two species were genetically compatible at all, regardless of modern developments in genetic manipulation and the ever broadening range of interspecies relationships. Green Tim had originally worked as a chef on the Jidai time station, but had transferred to Epoch when the opportunity to run his own establishment had arisen, for which Luke and the crew of Epoch were always grateful. However, interspecies relationships and career histories were presently the least of Luke’s concerns. He had to tell Tim and everyone else there, all of whom were no doubt watching the news coverage of the exile launch, the good news that even after some hiccups in the journey, William had made it to Earth alive.

*

The vampire in exile, William Herschel, awoke several hours later. He was a man of a lean, athletic build, and his dark brown hair was usually neatly styled, though at the moment it bore no resemblance to any kind of style whatsoever. His clean-shaven face had been described by some as ruggedly handsome; always a welcome compliment for a single guy.

He took a long deep breath of the fresh air. Looking around at the slowly darkening landscape, he could tell that the sun had set only minutes ago. It was usually about this time that vampires awoke, at least those who lived on Earth. On Epoch it hadn’t been an issue.

As his thoughts led him back to his present situation, his mind dwelt over the events that had led to his exile...

*

Two days earlier he’d been walking along one of the more secluded titanium-grey corridors on deck 86, his routine end-of-the-shift inspections of the deck nearly completed. He turned a corner and spotted a shadowy figure dart across the corridor into an adjacent one. The figure was wearing a loose, dark brown, hooded robe like a Franciscan monk’s habit, complete with a rope belt that had three knots down the length of one of the freely hanging ends. In fact the only thing missing was a wooden cross on a string around its neck. With the large hood covering its head, William had been unable to discern any of the being’s features. He couldn’t even guess its species, other than the fact that it was basically humanoid. Despite how out of place such an outfit was on a time station in the early twenty sixth century, it did serve as an impenetrable disguise, and blended into the shadows of a dark room extremely well as William had soon discovered.

He ran in pursuit and turned down the same corridor that the suspicious figure had, and found himself before the open double doors of the temporal transference chamber. The lights weren’t on inside, which was unusual since it was his responsibility to deactivate the equipment and ensure that the room was secure during his rounds, and he hadn’t yet been through this section. No one was supposed to be in the chamber. Epoch, identify all beings in this section of this level, he called out to the station’s computer.

Commander William Herschel, the computer’s impassive feminine voice replied.

No one else? William asked.

No other beings detected, the computer confirmed.

William approached the open doors cautiously, noticing that the security panel on the doorway was in pieces. Taking each step slowly and remaining constantly on guard, he entered the dark chamber. When the light didn’t come on automatically he tried the manual lighting controls on the wall just inside the doorway but there was no response. Listening carefully for any reaction or movement, or even the sound of breathing, he said calmly, It’s Commander Herschel... come out and we can discuss this. You’ll only cause trouble for yourself by hiding... He moved deeper into the spacious room, hearing nothing that would indicate the cowled being’s position. It occurred to him that it could be part of an initiation dare that new recruits occasionally talked each other into, many of whom were promptly dismissed from service afterwards, depending on the severity of the dare. I used to play the odd joke like this too, so believe me, I know how much of a laugh it can be. I could tell you stories about some of the mischief that I got up to that would leave you baffled as to how I got away with it. But having said that, I also know firsthand how much trouble you can find yourself in when the admiral does find out about these sorts of pranks. Trust me, it’s better if we just keep this between us. Come out and I’ll take you for a drink at Green Tim’s, and we can swap stories, he tried in a friendly voice.

On the dimly illuminated transference platform in the centre of the room he noticed a transparent cylinder containing about one litre of a translucent blue fluid. The free-standing console to the side of it was active.

There was a brief flash of light from behind him accompanied by a sharp yet quiet electric sizzle and he slumped to the floor unconscious.

Two hours later he woke up in a confinement cell, much to his surprise. The cell contained only the hard mattress he was lying on, a folded grey blanket near his feet, and a food dispenser built into the wall that could only be activated three times a day. There was a basic latrine facility in the corner to one side of the shimmering force field that covered the doorway, positioned to offer some degree of privacy, unless anyone came right up to the force field. Looking along the corridor through the force field was like looking at the surface of a lake while the wind blew ripples across it; the whole corridor beyond seemed to ripple and distort. He sat up and noticed that he was no longer wearing his crimson jacket, though he was still wearing the black remainder of the uniform. His multi-com had been removed from his wrist so that he couldn’t use one of its functions to override the force field controls or call for assistance. He already knew that he wouldn’t be able to get any answers from the station’s computer, as it didn’t respond to prisoners.

He heard footsteps, and looked up to see Admiral Rivette walking along the corridor, stopping before the force field with a grave expression.

I cannot express my disappointment at this, the admiral said sombrely, his voice pained and his whole face seeming to frown. After the trust I put in you, and the continual guidance I’ve offered you. You had a good career with an almost flawless record of achievements, so I can only ask, why did you do it?

What’s happening? William replied. Why am I in here?

You were found attempting to transport a narcotic substance through time!

I was attempting no such thing! William retorted, realising that the cylinder of blue fluid he’d come across must be the narcotic in question.

You were apprehended by Commander Tylvius a couple of hours ago in the temporal transference chamber, in possession of one litre of necrozine. It’s in your best interests to be cooperative and tell me where you were going to send it.

I wasn’t in possession of it, I just found it there when I was following an intruder.

I’ve already checked the internal sensor log myself and you were the only one detected in there, aside from Tylvius when he went through that section and found you. You’re fortunate that it’s standard procedure for weapons to be set to stun while carried on the station. I assure you I viewed and reviewed all of the relevant evidence in search of any discrepancy before I could accept that you’d actually done something like this, but, sadly, I was unable to disprove it. It’s much worse than any of the mischief that you and Luke used to get up to. This level of temporal felony holds serious consequences, as well you know. Your trial will be tomorrow.

William didn’t know what to say. After a moment of silence the admiral turned and left.

William had always considered Admiral Rivette to be a friend as well as a respected leader. It seemed that the circumstantial evidence against him had seemed irrefutable enough to convince even the admiral that he was indeed attempting to transport narcotics through time. Someone had to have evaded Epoch’s internal sensors by masking their life signs, and that level of technical expertise ruled out the possibility of initiation pranks. But without evidence, the claim that someone had successfully evaded detection would only be considered desperate speculation on his part at the trial. There was another possibility; that he’d stumbled upon Tylvius attempting to send it. However, the nature of the evidence would more than likely serve as an alibi to the security chief, and William had to admit that Tylvius could’ve simply stepped out of a lift just after he’d asked the computer about life signs in that section, which would explain why he hadn’t been detected there at that time. Whether or not it was actually the case, it would probably be the story that Tylvius would use.

William couldn’t sleep at all that night. His mind raced, trying to think of some way to prove his innocence, not to mention trying to figure out the motive of whoever the robed figure was. He asked a guard who’d come by to check on him if he could speak with his friend Luke, but was told apologetically that he’d been denied any visitors.

*

The next day he was escorted to the trial chamber by four armed guards. It could be considered a little excessive, but even young vampires were noticeably stronger than the average human. The guards on the station weren’t Temporal Security personnel, and wore two-toned grey uniforms. They were provided by a military organisation called Terran Guardians and took most of their orders and assignments directly from Earth High Command, which was the centre of the global government system based in Switzerland.

William was permitted to have Luke as his advocate during the trial, giving him an opportunity to speak with his friend. If there was one man who would be absolutely certain of his innocence despite the evidence it was him. They’d been best friends since childhood, for about a decade and a half now.

The oval-shaped trial chamber was dominated by a raised platform at the head of the room, upon which were three ornate chairs where the members of the judging council sat. In the centre chair, set a little higher than the other two, sat Fleet Admiral Ronald Morgan. His hair was nearly white with just a few flecks of grey remaining, he stood out in his gold jacket embroidered with black patterns and symbols. He was getting a little podgy around the waistline from years of sitting behind a desk, but was otherwise in good physical shape, and had the intense demeanour of a war leader despite not having actually participated in a war. The other members of the judging council were Admiral Bruce Rivette on his right, who had an expression of genuine sadness on his face that it’d come to this, and Admiral Amanda Campbell on his left; the youngest member of the council by five years, who still had most of her natural chestnut hair colour, and who held her head high in a lofty, imperious sort of way like a queen gazing upon her subjects. On the wall behind them was a sizeable hologram of Temporal Security’s emblem, which was simply an old-style clock face with a distinctive fracture through it, with the hands turning anticlockwise.

To either side of the council the three-tiered seating ran the length of the curved walls all the way to the large doors at the other end of the room. Most of the seats were occupied, and the room was filled with the murmurs of many hushed conversations. In the area in front of the seats on the left side of the room a news crew put on their individual camera headsets and decided on where the best vantage points around the chamber would be. A couple of them gathered directly before the podium in the centre of the room ready to capture the defendant’s every word and expression when the trial began. William was known to the general public for his many successful missions through time, and had appeared on the news shows on several occasions to represent Temporal Security, and therefore his trial had attracted the attention of the media.

The escorting guards led William to the podium, where Luke stood waiting for him. There was just enough room for the two of them to stand together. The guards returned to the door to await the end of the proceedings, but were alert and ready to respond to the slightest escape attempt by William, or any attempt by anyone else to intercede in any way.

The lighting dimmed except for the area immediately around the judging council and also around William and Luke. Fleet Admiral Morgan called for silence and the murmur of conversations around the room ceased immediately. I now open the trial of Commander William Herschel, accused of violation of the principle law of time, specifically the misuse of temporal technology, which was committed for the purpose of narcotic smuggling.

For the next quarter of an hour William described to the council the events concerning his discovery and capture in as much detail as he could.

Fleet Admiral Morgan waited for a few moments after William had finished before asking, Do you or your chosen advocate have any evidence or witnesses to present to this council?

I would like to question Commander John Tylvius as a suspect before the council, Luke announced.

And your reasoning for considering him suspect? Morgan demanded.

The only two people known to have been in the temporal transference chamber during those events are William Herschel and John Tylvius. If Herschel is indeed innocent, as I firmly believe him to be, then the security chief is the only other possible suspect, based on our current information.

Very well, you may question Commander Tylvius, Morgan permitted with a hint of reluctance, having hoped to be done with the proceedings quickly, as the trial of one of their own was an embarrassment to the organisation.

As Tylvius strode towards the front of the room to stand before the council, William leaned towards Luke and whispered too softly for the news crew to pick up, Why are you calling him in as a suspect? He might not be the one who was wearing the hooded robe. If he’s innocent you might be bringing him before the council for no reason.

Yeah, I know. And that’s probably the case. I just don’t like him, Luke whispered back with a faint smile while glaring at the security chief; a firmly built New Zealander with a short military haircut who always had an air of arrogant confidence in his authority. He had an impressive service record, and he knew it.

Me either, William agreed. He shot me.

Once Tylvius was standing before the council, and the area where he stood was also illuminated, he took a brief moment to turn and cast a reciprocal look of intense dislike at William and Luke.

Luke cleared his throat before speaking for dramatic effect, mindful of the media team recording the proceedings from as many angles as they could. Commander Tylvius, would you please relate to the council your version of events?

Due to shift rotation, this is my week to patrol that section on decks 85 to 87. I don’t believe in having the people under me do all the work. As the security log will confirm, at the time that the temporal transference chamber was opened I was nearby on the deck below, and had not yet reached the temporal transference chamber. Tylvius paused for a moment while Admiral Campbell confirmed the information in the log using a small console beside her chair. She nodded to the other members of the council, and Tylvius continued. A couple of minutes later I was on deck 86 patrolling that corridor when I noticed that the door was open. I checked on my multi-com and found that no one was scheduled to be using the facility at that time. I saw a silhouette move in the dark room and noticed the damaged security panel, so I took the initiative to capture the likely intruder. After all, that’s my job. I saw no one wearing a brown hooded robe like Commander Herschel described, or anyone whose attire was even remotely similar to that, or in any way suspicious. In fact, other than Commander Herschel there was no one else present in the vicinity at all. To dismantle the security panel would’ve taken some time, so anyone as conspicuous as the person Commander Herschel claims to have seen would’ve been reported to security by the first person to walk past. But no one would give a second thought to seeing the commander there, so he could set the stage for a break-in without arousing suspicion. Additionally, the forensic analysis that was done on the security panel’s circuitry shows no microscopic evidence of tampering, indicating that whoever was in there had security clearance, and had then erased the chamber’s entry log and dismantled the panel to give the appearance of forced entry.

Luke was certain that Tylvius was hiding something, if only because of the way his recounting of the story seemed so well rehearsed. With a glance at William he could see that his vampire friend didn’t believe the man had given an honest account either. Who was it that carried out the forensic analysis of the circuitry?

I believe his name was Zahlmann, Tylvius replied.

Although he hadn’t met the man, Luke was aware that Zahlmann was an independent scientific researcher who’d come to Epoch with the personal recommendation of the President of Earth’s advisor, so the analysis would’ve been genuine. Luke had hoped that it’d been carried out by the security division, because then he might be able to refute the results on the grounds of bias in favour of the security chief. He addressed the council, going for a different angle instead. If the log entries can be erased they can also be altered. If Commander Herschel was using the room, for whatever purpose, he could have done so with the light on, and no one would have questioned what he was doing there, like Tylvius said. Incidentally, almost no one passes that area at that time, so someone wearing a monk-style robe could very well go unnoticed. It was purely coincidental that Commander Herschel was passing through that section a little earlier than usual that day. But the fact that the person in question still thought it necessary to disguise himself says something, especially as questions would be raised if a random passer-by saw Tylvius in there unaccompanied by Temporal Security personnel. In any situation other than walking past the room his presence would certainly have attracted attention.

There’s no evidence to suggest that any such person as this mysterious monk was ever present, Tylvius objected, and nothing at all in fact that corroborates Herschel’s story. I have offered logs and a forensic analysis of the security panel as evidence.

Those logs will have been fabricated, Luke protested angrily, his temper momentarily getting the better of him.

Have you any evidence of such? Tylvius asked with smug confidence.

No, Luke was forced to concede.

Starting by facing the council, and slowly turning to address rest of the people present as well, Tylvius said with theatrical flair, I would like to pose a final thought for consideration. Given that the substance in question, necrozine, hasn’t been produced for many decades, is it likely that I was able to obtain such a substance and get it aboard the station undetected? Or is it more likely that Commander Herschel, who travels through time on a regular basis, was able to procure it from a time period that it was used in during one of his missions?

That’s sheer speculation and you know it! William snapped at him.

Tylvius turned and faced him but said nothing.

Don’t you just want to throw something at his stupid, smug face? Luke muttered, again too softly for the media crews to pick up.

I’d love to, William agreed, and actually caught himself unconsciously glancing around for a small object that could be thrown, not that he could actually get away with it.

There will be a brief recess, during which this council will consider all testimonies and evidences given and reach its verdict, Fleet Admiral Morgan announced, following which the members of the judging council arose and left the room through a private door behind their seats.

For William the ten minutes that they were gone seemed like an hour. He didn’t have a good feeling about the situation. Both he and Luke were silent during the wait. Eventually the members of the judging council returned to their seats. When the room was again settled, Fleet Admiral Morgan stood to deliver their judgement, the very tone of his voice condemning.

Under the authority of Earth High Command, this council has determined, based on all available evidence, that Commander William Herschel is guilty as charged. The sentence for even attempting to break the principal law of time is death by temporal execution. However, in light of Commander Herschel’s services to Temporal Security, and by the special request of Admiral Bruce Rivette, the sentence has been reduced to permanent exile. The fleet admiral glared at William with disdain, but with a hint of satisfaction as though he was disposing of something best cast away and forgotten. Your exile will take place in 5000 BC. If you even attempt to interfere with history in any way you will be removed from time and executed. The sentence of exile will be carried out tomorrow, the 26th of March 2509. This trial is now concluded.

Just like that it was all over, and so unfavourably that all hope had been drained from the unfortunate vampire. He looked up at Admiral Rivette, who was looking straight back at him. William gave him a nod of gratitude for having had his life spared. Execution would certainly have been worse than exile, no matter where he was sent. The admiral gave a subtle smile of acknowledgment. The guards came to escort William back to his cell.

After watching his friend being led away, Luke decided to go to the science division and speak to Zahlmann himself to put his mind at rest regarding the circuit analysis, just in case there was any chance that an additional clue could be found there. He asked Epoch’s computer for directions to Zahlmann’s laboratory, and when he got there he found it to be locked. He touched the doorbell control and immediately heard muffled but distinctly annoyed muttering coming from inside, followed by an impatient, What?

It’s Lieutenant Commander Luke Hawking, regarding evidence presented in William Herschel’s trial.

There was more annoyed muttering before the voice was heard to order the station’s computer to release the door lock.

Luke entered the lab. It was quite extensive considering that only one man worked in it. He’d heard rumours that no one else worked with Zahlmann because he was impossible to work with, and was already starting to believe that to be the case. The numerous tables and benches were adorned with a haphazard assortment of highly advanced devices and pieces of scientific apparatus.

The man standing in the middle of the room, closely examining the circuitry of a semi-disassembled device that he was holding, was lanky and balding, having just a wreath of grey-infused black hair around the sides and back of his head, which in itself surprised Luke since baldness had been fully treatable for centuries. His late middle-aged face was deeply lined with a perpetually grumpy demeanour and furrowed brow, and he had a conspicuous mole on his right temple. And while the other scientists on the station wore Temporal Security uniforms with coloured jackets like everyone else, Zahlmann set himself apart by wearing a long, old-fashioned, white lab coat over his own plain, dark grey clothing. It was the sort of coat that probably hadn’t been used since sometime before World War Three, and looked so well-worn that it could’ve actually come from that era, or earlier. But he could get away with it since he wasn’t actually a member of Temporal Security. Well, what is it? Zahlmann demanded, not taking his eyes off of the device.

I’ve come to ask you about the circuit from the temporal transference chamber’s security panel, Luke began. He wasn’t sure if Zahlmann was actually paying any attention to him at all, because the scientist started poking at the device’s internal circuitry intently with a pointed instrument that was illuminated at the tip, but continued talking anyway. Your analysis said that it hadn’t been tampered with. I was wondering if there was any chance that whoever did it used a wire too fine to leave any visible scorch marks, or tripped the circuit across a couple of the conductive tracks rather than using the component connection points.

Zahlmann stopped what he was doing, sighed, and rolled his eyes before casting a withering look at Luke. I suppose you think I missed something? Or that you know more about forensic analyses than I do?

Luke shrugged. Nobody’s perfect.

Zahlmann looked him up and down. You’ve got that right. The circuit’s over there on that bench if you want to examine it yourself. But during the five long hours I wasted on it I examined every component and traced every one of the conductivity tracks at a microscopic level, and would you guess what I found?

Nothing?

Zahlmann grunted. Maybe you are smarter than you look after all, fortunately for you. There wasn’t the slightest scorch mark on any part of it that would be caused by the electric flow being diverted through a touching wire, however fine, so it wasn’t shorted out or in any other way tampered with, and the molecular alignment of the silver tracks indicated that it’d conducted electricity recently, so it wasn’t swapped with a spare part that’d been sitting on a shelf for ten years. And there was no genetic material such as skin cells, skin oils, hair, or even breath moisture on any part of its surface from anyone handling it when it was disassembled. But by all means, if my efforts were insufficient feel free to double check the circuit yourself. He promptly went back to poking around inside his device.

Luke didn’t relish the idea of spending five hours in Zahlmann’s lab to redo the analysis, and clearly the scientist had been thorough in his examination. I’ll take your word for it.

If you’d done that in the first place... Zahlmann muttered. Then he looked at Luke and said, Now if you’re quite finished, I have a lot on my mind.

Luke glanced up at Zahlmann’s bald scalp and muttered, If you say so, and left without waiting to hear the scientist’s retort.

*

The next day Luke waited in the cell with William for the time that the sentence was scheduled to be carried out. Both men sat on the mattress with their backs against the wall and their sleeves rolled up. Luke’s light red jacket was folded beside him.

Not the best accommodations, Luke commented as he glanced around the small cell.

Hardly enough space to swing a cat, William replied.

Luke sighed and nodded in agreement. His mind was still busy trying to come up with some way to cast doubt on the judging council’s ruling before it was too late to prevent his friend’s exile.

It’s possible that someone altered the sensor log, William speculated. Maybe it was Tylvius; he’d have clearance for special access to it.

I’ve checked that out already. The only time the log was accessed was when it was reviewed by the members of the judging council before the trial. I doubt Tylvius would know how to conceal another access from the computer, unless he got his mate Captain Wallace to help him. Those two are pretty tight, and just as sinister and sordid as each other, Luke said.

Surely whoever put the necrozine there must’ve left a fingerprint or a DNA trace. Maybe even particles of evaporated sweat that condensed on the container. Anything to at least identify their species with.

I got special access from the admiral and scanned the necrozine container three times myself just to be sure. There were no such giveaways, not even an indication that such identification markers had been cleaned off of it. Whoever did it was careful not to leave any traces in the first place.

Not even on the security panel’s circuitry?

I went to speak to Zahlmann about that possibility, and all I learned was that the man’s a nightmare. Just be grateful you weren’t exiled to his lab, or you might’ve found execution less grim.

Well, perhaps the time scan could be used to look back on the event. You could try asking the admiral about that.

I’ve already looked into that possibility as well. Laurence in the tech division said that directing the scanner backwards into the station would be like looking at the event through the wrong end of a telescope. Not to mention the risk to the crew of focussing the energy of such an intense scanner beam into the station. With barely tempered frustration in his voice at being so powerless to help his friend, Luke added, Why don’t they just send someone back in person to have a look at what happened?

You know how it is with things like this. They never send anyone back to a point within their own timeline. It’s too easy for complications to arise. Besides, whoever was sent back might not be impartial and might take the opportunity to tamper with the evidence. Not that it could make things worse than they are. William hated to admit it, but he couldn’t see any possible way out of the situation.

All this time travel equipment isn’t doing us much good then, is it? Luke said resignedly.

You’re starting to sound more upset about all this than I am, William remarked.

Luke nodded and took a deep breath. Getting worked up about it wasn’t going to help anyone. He had to keep a clear head if he wanted to think his way through it. After a few moments of silence a faint smile crept over his face. Remember when we stopped off for a fishing trip on the shore of Loch Ness in the sixth century on the way back from that mission to collect egg samples from the Cretaceous age, and you accidentally left your sample bag of plesiosaur eggs on the shore? Or when we went back a couple of millennia and created a face shape on the surface of Mars using the shuttle’s weapons to win that bet with Colin? We had people wondering about that for centuries! he said, attempting to cheer his friend up with a bit of nostalgia. And there were people who actually believed that aliens would’ve gone to the trouble of doing it.

William’s mood lightened a little at the reminiscence. Could you imagine anyone like the Messarans getting up to mischief like that? Still, we’re lucky we didn’t end up working in a deuterium refinery on Ganymede or picking strawberries in a penal colony for the rest of our lives for it. They were fortunate that their mischief hadn’t been considered serious enough to warrant formal punishment, though they did receive a severe informal warning from Admiral Rivette when these events were brought to light, along with several other incidents from the various minor missions that they’d been paired up on in their first couple of years of service. William’s mood fell as it sank in that they wouldn’t have times like those any more.

Luke could tell what his friend was thinking. At least you’re alive. And I promise you, I’ll never give up on searching for some way to prove you’re not guilty, even if I have to do it without the admiral’s consent.

Thank you, my friend, William said with the utmost sincerity.

In truth, you’re more like a brother, Luke said, holding William’s gaze. They roughly clasped hands for a moment. He tried to further reassure his friend by saying, I don’t imagine it’s going to be easy, but if anyone can get through it and still come out on top it’s you. What’s that saying, when God closes an airlock he opens a view port?

Something like that, William said with a slight smile. It’s just inconvenient, really. I was planning to go see that demonstration of artistic holography on deck 50 tomorrow. Not to mention that I was thinking of asking Angelica Thompson out.

The blonde hairdresser on deck 24? You’re a bit late, she’s already started seeing someone, otherwise you could’ve taken her to the demonstration. But I’ve noticed that Patricia Malawi’s got her eye on you.

Who’s Angelica seeing? William demanded, having been under the impression that she wasn’t in a relationship, which was an unusual opportunity, since she was usually seeing someone of at least the rank of lieutenant.

After a momentary pause, Luke replied, Brian Flemming.

Oh, not Flemming! William exclaimed, appalled at the thought. How did she ever say yes to him? I’m guessing she hasn’t seen the way he eats then. A herd of pigs would dine with more grace.

They’ve gone out a few times now. Their next date is to the holography demonstration on deck 50 tomorrow night.

William studied the straight look on his friend’s face, a look that was forced, and betrayed the slightest twitch of a smile. You’re winding me up, aren’t you?

Luke’s straight face collapsed into a smirk and then laughter as William gave him a friendly but firm jab in the ribs.

An armed guard interrupted them. Addressing Luke, she said, Excuse me, sir. It’s time to prepare.

Luke stood up and put his jacket on. As he stepped towards the cell’s entrance the guard deactivated the force field, quickly reactivating it the moment Luke was clear.

William’s apprehension started to build into a pang of despair as he saw his friend walk away with the guard. He suddenly felt more alone than he ever had before. Not that he was emotionally needy or dependent; he considered himself far too manly for that. But pretty soon he wouldn’t see any of his friends ever again as he was sent to quietly live out his long vampire life in the background of history, in a pre-civilisation age.

A matter of seconds later a distraction from his sinking mood arrived wearing a dark green jacket and a short haircut. It was Ensign Colin Finch, with a nervously furtive look on his slightly chubby face.

Hey, Commander Herschel, Colin said in a soft voice.

Hi. And by the way, it’s just mister now, or William. He indicated the cell.

Colin looked around the cell through the force field. Oh, right. I know you’re not supposed to have visitors, but I snuck in anyway. I just wanted to let you know that I believe you didn’t do it, and the same goes for a lot of other people. We’re all wishing you the very best, wherever your exile takes you. And well... Colin seemed a little embarrassed and looked at the floor. Well, you’re actually a bit of a role model to me. Someone I’ve always looked up to. You’ve always looked out for me, and I’m grateful. I just wanted you to know that before you go.

William was surprised to hear it and wasn’t sure how to react. He’d carried out a lot of successful missions in his career, but it’d never occurred to him that anyone would see him in such a light. True, he’d appeared on a number of news shows after some of his most significant missions, and he knew his name had even become known off-world, particularly among the criminal sects whose plans had at some time been thwarted by him, but he’d never considered himself to be an actual celebrity or role model in any measure. Thanks, Colin, he said appreciatively, though he had hoped in the back of his mind that Colin had come to bust him out in some sort of daring escape plan.

Is there anything I can do for you, any messages to pass on? Colin asked eagerly.

No, but thanks for the offer. And if you want a bit of career advice, stop beating your superiors all the time on poker night or you’ll never get promoted. But for what it’s worth, you’ve got the best poker face I’ve ever seen. You should consider a position in diplomatic relations. Or with such a propensity for deception, you could probably even make a career as a lawyer or a politician in the twenty first century. William knew from experience that a poker table was the one place where the normally bumbling and nervous ensign was in his element.

Thanks, and I’ll keep that in mind, Colin said thoughtfully, though I doubt I’d be able to keep up with all of their loophole terminology.

Their hushed conversation was cut short when Tylvius walked around a corner and saw them.

Colin put on his most official sounding voice, and said, So I’m afraid that’s the fleet admiral’s final word on the matter. He turned and started walking briskly away, and looked up at Tylvius as though he’d only just that moment noticed him. He gave the security chief a brief nod and continued past him.

When Colin was out of sight Tylvius turned and glared at William, who glared defiantly back in a silent challenge until Tylvius looked away and left.

*

As Luke entered the armoury he was pulled aside by Larissa Rivette, the last person he’d imagine bumping into in such a place. Larissa, what are you doing here? he asked.

Someone’s planning to stop William from reaching Earth alive, she said in a lowered voice. She handed him a cardiovascular injector; a device that quickly shot out and withdrew twenty ultra-thin needles, which protruded to different lengths so that whatever medication it contained would at some depth reach a vein or artery and get into the blood stream quickly for rapid effect, and was virtually painless. Get him to struggle and then use this injector on him, otherwise he won’t survive. Tell no one I gave this to you. Despite the tone of conspiratorial urgency in her voice, her face was a mask that portrayed little emotion. She turned and left, her silvery-grey full-length dress swaying in the breeze of her quick pace.

Why does she always seem so serious and keep to herself most of the time, even when there isn’t something like this going on, Luke wondered, noticing that her hair was neatly held up in place on the back of her head in a coiled bun, the same as almost every other time he’d seen her. Occasionally she’d wear it in a ponytail that hung close to waist length, which was generally when she was in a happier mood, such as the occasions when she was out socially with him and William and a few others, but he couldn’t recall ever having seen her with her hair down loose. Still, at least someone else cared about William’s well being besides him, though her manner was certainly curious. He knew that Larissa and William had grown quite close since the day that William and Admiral Rivette had saved her life, and Luke was aware of William’s unrequited interest in her. He did sometimes wonder if she’d married the admiral to put herself in a position of power through her relationship with him, as many others on the station also wondered. She often used the time scan for her own archaeological research and no one questioned her about it, though some people had a hidden resentment of her seemingly unchecked freedom. Luke had walked past her once while she was going through some time scan results, but all she’d had