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He tapped the side of his head. He'd had a dream, then. What else had he dreamed?
I decided not to ask. Clive liked to keep things close to his chest and no matter what you did to uncover his secrets, he'd only divulge them when and if he was ready.
"Are you packed?" I asked instead.
"The family knows what's happening," he replied, as if that answered my question. He turned to his son. "This is Charles. My eldest. He's coming with us."
"Is that wise?" I wasn't sure how much Clive had contaminated this time period with out-of-time facts. His son clearly knew what was happening, and if his previous words were anything to go by, his family knew he'd been flying back and forth between here and 23rd century RATS.
Clive wasn't normally loose with the rules of time travel. Yes, he spent an inordinate amount of time in the 23rd century, but he always came back. Balancing Time's scales as it were. He worked within the rules, so I could only assume Time had agreed to allow him this indiscretion.
How else did a man live out of time, flying backwards and forward on Time's waves, without losing a part of himself? His role in whatever Time had devised had not been an easy one. I did not pity the life Clive Crawford had had to live.
"Charles is not staying at RATS," Clive told me, hobbling down the last step and over the patio toward me. Clive only hobbled when he needed to make a point. He could be quite agile when the occasion required it. His old injury was one of convenience and not an imposition unless he wanted it to be perceived as such.
He also knew me better than to try and use it against me. I wondered, then, if Anderson's goons had hurt him when they returned him to his time.
I wanted to ask, to make sure he was well. But Clive was also a proud man and, in front of his son, he would not have welcomed the inquisition.
"Why is your son coming at all, Clive?" I asked instead.
"He's coming for you," Clive told me, slapping a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it briefly.
"I'm not staying at RATS."
"Of course, you're not. You're going back for Mimi."
I narrowed my eyes at the old man and then glanced at Charles, his son.
"You're Army?" I asked.
"SAS," he said, his voice gruff. I studied him. He wore his uniform proudly. He also sported obvious wounds that could be attributed to his gruff sounding voice.
In our time, those wounds could have been healed completely. Clive had not broken any rules for his son's benefit, then.
At that moment, I realised just how hard Clive's job had been. Pulled in two separate directions. In one direction, his family. In the other, Time and RATS. I admired my mentor then more than I had ever admired him before.
A lump formed in my throat, and I turned to look at him.
"You expect there to be problems in the 21st century," I said.
"Anderson wouldn't have done anything as convenient as sending Mimi back to New Zealand. I fear he's a petty man. He would have returned her to the moment you picked her up, Jack. Or as close to it as the Orion and Time would allow. That means the Kennedy Space Center, which had just experienced what they thought was a terrorist act."
"I was going to try there first," I said defensively.
"And you would have found her. Behind an increase in security, twitchy fingers, and by now, quite confused special agents. They've seen her escape twice now, Jack. They saw you and an Orion on Launch Pad 39A. They saw Sergei in a Lunik. He fired an out-of-time weapon at them. What do you think their instructions to the security forces they've amassed would be? Shoot first, ask questions later? You'd have walked into an ambush you would not have been able to navigate safely."
"I'm prepared to do whatever's necessary."
Clive held up a placating hand.
"I'm not saying, don't go," he told me. "I'm just saying, take backup." He nodded toward Charles.
"Why not a squad of out-of-time contemporaries, then?" I demanded.
"Time doesn't mind the odd hiccup," Clive said carefully. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to do what I've done for the past decade. Mimi wouldn't have been able to stay in the 23rd century as long as she did without having to go back. Single anomalies are fine as long as they stay within the rules and suit Time's purpose. Multiple anomalies, not so much. It's why Time corrects Multiverse Interpolation incidents. Two Bryan Fawkes in one universe, for example, would not be tolerated."
"Two Carolyn Wyldes," I whispered.
