Twisted Time

17 - Searching for errors

The control room, 01:23

Dan glances at Ric out of the corner of her eyes, sure they are discovered. He flashes her a fake grin and signals her to help silent with a tiny gesture of his hand. It takes an effort to suppress her shivers, and Dan leans against him, trying to breathe without noise, while she listens to Ken's footsteps approach and stop a short distance to the left.

"These are serious error messages if you ask me." His voice is deep but clipped. Dan can see the man's legs only a few steps away. "Seems the transfer got interrupted several times by a safety protocol. At least according to this log. I'd like to know what causes the disruptions. We checked all the important components, and everything is functional."

"Well, checked everything except for the core chamber itself, and we can't do that mid-process."

Dan wonders if she can discern relief in Steff's voice, but Ken snorts. For an endless minute, the sound of his fingers tapping on a screen is the only thing to break the silence. Then he stops and takes an audible breath. "That's why we installed all the fancy surveillance equipment for the chamber. Check the primary energy sources and the connections while I run the analytics. As long as you don't touch the core chamber, you should be fine. High time we find the reason for this baby's hiccups."

For another few minutes, the tapping of Ken's finger, Steff's murmured curses, and the clattering of tools are the obvious signs the two men aren't about to leave soon. An itch builds in Dan's left leg and gets harder to ignore by the moment. She tries to control her breathing, concentrating on the rhythm of Ric's moving chest behind her.

Her shoulder rests against him, and he seems to perceive her tension. The firm pressure of his fingers spends her comfort and brings momentary release. However, now a tickle builds in her throat, and she needs all her will to suppress a coughing fit. When she thinks she can't hold it back anymore, it dissolves into nothing, but the itch in her leg is back.

Steff's cough sends a surge of relief through Dan. Finally, she has something else to concentrate on. "I'm not sure, but the relevant power lines look more or less like they should."

"More or less?"

"Yes, the log shows irregular fluctuations of the output from the core, though. I've never witnessed something similar, and it shouldn't occur while the input remains constant."

"This confirms my observations. Perhaps we should inform the office."

"Ken, you're crazy. The boss wants results, not some vague and unconfirmed observations. If she thinks we're stuck, she'll have our heads." Steff's tone is whiney, and Dan feels almost sorry for the man. "Ken, you know we're in deep shit already. Are you sure you can't find a reasonable explanation? You're the prized tech whizz kid, remember?"

"That was just another try to sweeten my job and prevent me from speaking my mind. I guess the only possibilities left are wrong coordinates, or then the target device is out of focus." He starts pacing the room. "The latter might explain the output fluctuations. Maybe we can't ferry the object of the boss' desire all the way because of scatter-loss. We still lack experience with the technology used to transfer living beings. I wish we'd stuck with the lumps of rock."

"My words. Can't you do something?"

"I might try to recalibrate the focus manually. But if the target coordinates are wrong, we're out of luck."

"Try it, please. It's better than confront you-know-whom."

"You have a point there. Fine, let me concentrate. This is iffy."

Steff doesn't answer, and the sound of Ken's eager fingers moving over the screen reveals he hasn't given in yet. Dan tries to relax, but in her left calf, a cramp develops. She massages the leg slowly, careful to remain silent and not attract attention. Ric's hand on her arm gives her comfort.

Meanwhile, she tries to figure out the meaning of Ken's last remarks. If the TA is aimed at me, I'm the transfer object in question. The way Ken spoke the words sends a shiver down her back, and a suffocating feeling knots her stomach. She wonders if the man knows his victim's identity or if she is just an abstract job for him.

And what happens if he succeeds to adjust the time machine? Will this deliver me straight to the destination their mysterious boss has in mind? And what do they have in store for me? Her train of thoughts leads down a dark tunnel of fear. Whatever the reasons she was brought here, she prefers Ric's company. In need of his unspoken reassurance he'll support her in this mess, she presses closer to him.

Dan's morose thoughts are interrupted by a siren calling for attention. A female voice from a loudspeaker replaces the shrill sound after a few seconds. "Ken? What's going on down there? Did you bring in my precious parcel?"

"Negative, ma'am. The power supply is fine, and so is the cot. I'm in the middle of the refocusing process, though. I take it the set of coordinates is correct."

"They are perfect, confirmed by at least four different historical sources and recalculated several times by three of our best people. Stop trying to put the blame on someone else. I pay you to run these machines, not to think."

A muffled snort, probably from Steff, is cut short by Ken's respectful voice. "Aye, ma'am, we're on it."

"Good. And, Ken?" The boss sounds almost soft, but Dan's imagination paints a picture of a venomous snake about to strike. The mental image is livid enough to make her shrink back into Ric even further.

"Yes, ma'am?" Ken's words are level, not betraying emotion.

"Repair this machine, feed it more power, adjust the focus, dance the hula, whatever it takes to bring her in. I need the information she has stacked in her pretty, curly head. And if I have to cut it off to get it."

Ric's fingers tighten on Dan's arm, but she can't suppress a gasp.