Temporal Renegades, for a variety of reasons, attempt to alter Baseline History. Their motives are often lofty, ranging from political to religious. Although some temporal renegades have been known to tamper with history for no other reason than thrill seeking. A fewer still engage in such nefarious activity because it feeds their lust for power. Indeed, the ability to change an event, to send ripples of disruption coursing through the Event Timeline is a power like none other, a power despots through the ages would have envied.
Null Station was one square mile of interlocking rings and connecting conduits, housing offices, personal domiciles and training facilities. The construct existed in an endless gray soup, a place where time did not exist. What better location for an agency specializing in temporal matters to base its headquarters then in a realm beyond the barrier of time.
Kameron thought so. Null Station’s very location in the stasis void was a protection from active efforts by temporal renegades to destroy the Division of Temporal Preservation and Integrity. Wipe out Null Station, no more Division. The key was finding it and only the DTPI director knew the exact coordinates of the station. For security reasons the Director’s identity was concealed and he never left the station.
Kameron reappeared at Midpoint, located somewhere else in the stasis void. Midpoint was where field operatives were decontaminated and screened prior to teleporting to Null Station. Screening was the most important part of the process. It was not unheard of for temporal renegades to attempt to use a captured operative to infiltrate Null Station. Kameron knew the drill. He shed his gear, stepped into a closet size screening chamber, and stood straight with hands locked behind his head while a sensor beam bathed his body in an aura of light.
Screening analysis determined that Kameron was neither a clone nor a replicant AI. No presence of behavior-modifying chemicals or neural alterations. No mind control implants. No evidence of psych readjustments. No harboring of explosive devices. After passing muster with the screening, Kameron slipped into a comfortable civilian outfit and stepped onto a teleportation pad. Next and final stop: Null Station.
Jimmy Maldone greeted Kameron on Reception Deck 12. Kameron smiled upon seeing his colleague and friend. He couldn’t help it. Maldone’s effervescent personality was infectious. His enthusiasm for his work remained a bright spot that Kameron tried to draw from to illuminate his own dimming morale.
“It’s good to see you’re in one piece,” said Jimmy, tugging at Kameron’s arm as if to make sure it was still attached.
Kameron pulled his arm away, giving Jimmy a playful shove in return. “Did you expect any less?”
Jimmy threw a hand up in a show of concession. “I suppose not. But those medieval time frames can be a real bastard.”
“And then some,” added Kameron. “On the other hand, you don’t have to worry about stray bullets.”
The operatives strolled down a wide corridor leading to the rec wing. Personnel in various one-piece uniforms walked by. The color of a person’s uniform identified the department he or she worked for. Blue for Data Anaylsis. Green for Technical. Orange for Engineering. Brown for Internal Security. Black for Time Watch, DTPI’s intelligence arm. Operatives alone had the privilege of wearing whatever they liked, at least on the station.
“If I recall correctly, you were doing a 20th century time frame op,” said Kameron. “You’re back early.”
“Nothing to it.” One corner of Jimmy’s mouth tilted upward, his signature expression of unapologetic cockiness. “Renegades tried to take Stalin out before his time. They did manage to save Trotsky. So, I sent a detail to cover Uncle Joe. Then I took a trip to Mexico and restored the Baseline there.”
Kameron marveled at the clinical choice of term for murder that fell so easily off the tongues of Division operatives. Stabbing a man in the skull with an ice axe was not an act of brazen, barbaric brutality in this particular context. It became a justified and necessary means for maintaining timeline stability. Perhaps even more disquieting to Kameron was how bloody minded his former protégé’ had become in so short a time. Three years as an operative Jimmy had restored more Baselines than the majority of five-year veterans. He was quick to volunteer for the more violent assignments: EVNTL ( Event Timeline) 1914, Assassinating the Archduke of Austria. EVNTL 1982: leading a massacre of civilians at a Palestinian refugee camp. EVNTL 1572: precipitating the killing of Protestants in France…It was a lengthy record of success. If asked, Jimmy would have proudly credited Kameron for molding him into a top tier operative. Kameron, an eleven-year veteran, was on a fast track to legendary status within the Division. Who better to emulate than the best?
“What say we swing by the café before you debrief?” The agents stopped at a junction in the corridor.
Kameron rubbed the back of his neck, tempted. “Sure thing…but not right now. I need to clear my head.”
“You’re going to the doc’s office?”
Kameron flashed a dry look Jimmy’s way. “I didn’t say that.”
“It’s not what you said, it’s what I read.” The urge to pat himself on the back for that clever arrangement of words could not have been more obvious on Jimmy’s face.
Kameron rolled his eyes. “I’ll meet you in a half hour, maybe less. Try not to monopolize our female colleagues.”
Jimmy donned an expression of pure innocence. “I’ll do my best…but if you take too long…” Jimmy let the sentence trail off, then he grew serious. “Kameron, is everything all right?”
“I’m fine. I just to need to unload about a few things. You know how it is after a mission.”
“Well, uh, not really.”
Shaking his head, Kameron let out an amused sigh. “Of course you wouldn’t know. I’ll see you in a few.”
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