Chief Verkan sat at his horseshoe-shaped desk, watching the viewer replay the takeover of the Memphis conveyer-head on a minor Fourth Level, Nilo-Mesopotamian time-line in the Alexandrian-Roman sector. The Nile delta had been suffering from a famine due to a series of aqueducts built over a period of centuries that had finally reduced the flow of the major river to a trickle. Raising damns upon the Nile river was not unusual; it had been done on First Level and most Second Level sectors, even some of the more advanced Europo-American sectors had completed, or were finishing major dams. The result, of course-regardless of Level-was always the same; too little silt and too little water, leaving the Nile valley an agricultural wasteland. Famine was not the surprise, the real question was: Why had the populace decided to attack the Consolidated Outtime Foodstuffs conveyer head?
The battle was fierce and the prole defenders were disadvantaged by having to employ local weapons. Despite using a motley collection of clubs, cutlery and agricultural implements; the populace extracted numerous casualties among the Paratime staff. A few of the attackers were armed with swords and spears and were probably members of the local constabulary. The soldiers didn't arrive until the buildings had been looted and burned. The Consolidated Outtime Foodstuffs' First Level employees had gotten out before the doors were blown apart by battering rams. Most of the proles had died, but five of them had gotten to the conveyer in time. Verkan made a note that he wanted copies of all the interrogations and would like to talk to at least one of the surviving proles. As he recalled, Outtime Foodstuffs had been peripherally involved in the Wizard Traders case.
Verkan looked up when he heard his secretary's voice announce, "Inspector, Skordran Kirv, to see you, Chief."
"Tell him to come," he replied, wondering why one of his top men had arrived unannounced.
He motioned for Kirv to take a seat, as he shut off the viewer. "Kirv, I've got a question for you."
"Yes, Chief."
"Why would half the population of Memphis, Fourth Level Alexandrian-Roman, attack our local conveyer head?"
"What were we exporting and what were the conditions?"
Verkan answered, "Consolidated Outtime Foodstuffs runs the facility and there's a famine in all of Egypt."
"Humming bird tongues, ibex steaks, crocodile livers-there's a good market here for all of that here in Dhergabar. Probably someone got careless and let some of the indigenies watch them bring food into the building. People are starving in the streets-isn't that one of the sectors where they built dams on the Nile, or some such nonsense?"
"Yes," Verkan said, enjoying the way Kirv reached almost the identical conclusion he had after watching the clip.
"It's almost always carelessness that brings disaster. Someday, someone is going to slip up and one of these more advanced Second Level, or even Fourth Level, time-lines are going to figure out that they're nurturing a colony of vampires at their breast and the big bill will finally come due."
The Paratime Secret: the one inviolate Home Time-Line secret that had to be protected at any cost. Not only to preserve First Level society in all the luxury it had become accustomed to, but also because it wasn't right to let the poor outtime devils know that they were secretly being taken to the cleaners, as his friend Kalvan might have put it, by a secret race of parasites. But sometimes the parasites got careless and mistakes got made and then it was up to the Paracops to clean it up. This looked like it was going to be another one of those times. Sure, a few careers might be uprooted at Consolidated Outtime Foodstuffs, but the real losers would be the families of the proles who'd died defending a place they neither built nor profited from.
Verkan shook his head. He'd have to think of a more appropriate punishment for these First Level incompetents; maybe a posting to that new Second Level Ashthor Rammis subsector, where the locals shaved off all body hair, practiced ritual self-flagellation, were strict vegetarians and believed the highest state of being was to forgo all pleasure. That might be just the place for these miscreants to cool their heels for a century or so.
"Good analysis, Kirv," Verkan said. "I've got something pleasant in mind for those in charge, for a change."
"I don't like that look, Chief."
"How does a penal sentence to the Ashthor Rammis Subsector strike your
"Just rewards, comes to mind." Kirv said, with a laugh. "But let me change the subject, for a moment. I have news you need to hear: Dalgroth Sorn is getting ready to announce his retirement at Year-End!"
Verkan bolted upright in his chair. "Dalgroth!" The Paratime Commissioner for Security was one of Verkan's and the Paratime Police's staunchest allies. Dalgroth Sorn, was said to be older than time, but Verkan-pre-occupied with events on Kalvan's Time-Line had not considered his retirement, certainly not so soon after former Paratime Chief, Tortha Karf's. It appeared that all the men he'd looked upon as mentors and old friends would be gone from active service by the end of the year. That left Verkan not only feeling alone, but also isolated and with more weight upon his shoulders than any man should have to bear.
Kirv added, "It wasn't unexpected. He is half a century older than Tortha, and they are good friends."
"I know," Verkan said. "I should have anticipated this and had a candidate all ready to step forward."
Skordran Kirv winced. "The Opposition Party has put forward Councilman Aldron Ralth as their candidate."
"So fast!" Verkan shook his head in exasperation. Ralth was the Opposition leader who had replaced Salgath Trod-who was assassinated during the Wizard Trader blow-up. "He's a good figurehead and helped rebuild Opposition after the Wizard debacle, but he's probably the worst person-other than Hadron Tharn-to head the Paratime Security Commission."
"Ralth's sycophants in the Executive Council are saying that it's time the Commissioner was his own man, rather than the Chief's pet stooge! Ralth's been getting a lot of media attention. Everyone knows that Dalgroth is a big Paratime Police booster."
"Sure, he's a former Police Inspector. But he doesn't take my orders. He has always had a very clear agenda: protect the Paratime Secret and keep the Force strong and independent of the Executive Council. I've gotten more than one bawling out from Dalgroth, when he didn't agree with my policies or actions."
"You'll never convince the media or Executive Council of that."
Verkan shook his head wearily. For not the first time, nor for the last time, he wondered how Tortha Karf had run the Force for over two hundred and fifty years. "Who do we know that has the right background to serve as Paratime Commissioner?"
Skordran Kirv looked nervous. "We do have one exemplary candidate, Chief."
"And who might that be?"
"Tortha Karf. He's got the best background, great contacts and would back us to the hilt."
Verkan stood up. "Tortha's not about to give up his retirement, besides his nomination-after what Ralth has been saying-would stink all the way to Mars. Is there anyway we can talk Dalgroth into staying in office for a few more years?"
Kirv shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe you could have a talk with him, Chief. I don't know anyone else, other than our ex-Chief, whom he'd listen to."
"Fine," Verkan said, in resignation. He knew when he was beat. "Set up an appointment for later this afternoon. I'll have to worry about Nilo-Mesopotamia tomorrow." I'd better be able to convince Dalgroth not to retire, he thought. Otherwise, this job of policing millions upon millions of time-lines is going to turn into a dead certain impossibility! If Aldron Ralth becomes Paratime Commissioner, it'll be time for me to retire-right to Kalvan's Time-Line.