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Bullet in time
01/12/2007 . Source: Ray Tabler 
Short fiction from the pen of writer Ray Tabler. When you peek through the temporal window, you don't always find what you're looking for! 'Move me up a bit.' Collier peered through the ragged-edged temporal window.
Grimes adjusted a setting on his control panel. The scene visible through the metre-wide window seemed to sink slowly, past some tree branches.
'Hold it. That's good.' Collier nodded. 'Clear view of the road now. How much time do we have, Sir?'
Grimes glanced at his status screen. 'Two minutes, fourteen seconds.'
'Plenty of time.'
Collier turned away from the window floating in the middle of the white room and stepped around the table to his special chair. He shifted the padded supports on the table top this way or that, then settled into his chair.
Finally satisfied, Collier leaned forward to cradle his rifle and sighted through the sniper scope at the stretch of dusty road visible through the temporal window.
'Ready.'
On his platform behind and raised slightly above, Grimes scanned the readouts and peered over Collier's shoulder, through the window into the past. 'Looks like the same type of country where I grew up.'
'Lot's of places look the same through these windows, sir.' Collier didn't bother to look up.
'I wish it looked like the place where Miller grew up.'
Collier twisted around to glance at his superior before returning his attention to the task at hand.
'The pompous fool just won't listen. I submitted three targeting requests last week, each one practically begging for some lead therapy! Miller rejected them all. Gave me some guff about them all being too far back, unpredictable consequences.'
'Target selection is a bit above my pay grade, Sir.'
Grimes snorted. 'Above mine too, so it seems.'
A lone figure had come into view around a distant bend in the road.
'Subject in sight.' Collier raised an eyebrow. 'Could you query the computer, Sir? This one's just a kid. He can't be more than twelve.'
Reluctantly, Grimes interrupted his tirade to request a statistical analysis from the computer. 'Subject identified, ninety nine point seven percent confidence level. I don't have any other information on him. The paperwork just came down this morning, only enough time to enter the co-ordinates.'
'I'll let him get closer.' Collier, watched the slowly approaching subject, who kicked a rock along the road.
'Hitler was just twelve, once.'
'Yes sir.'
'Looks like you'll be stuck with me for a while, Collier.'
'Pardon me, sir?'
'The promotion list came out this morning and I'm not on it.'
'Sorry to hear that, sir.'
'Sure you are.' Grimes gripped the railing at the edge of his platform, staring over Collier's shoulder at the subject. 'How many successful temporal adjustments you have, that's all they look at come promotion time.'
Grimes slapped the railing. 'I'll find a way to up that number, if it's the last thing I do.'
The subject was much closer to the window now. Collier thumbed the rifle's safety off with a soft snick.
Grimes gasped. 'Hey, wait a minute! That kid, he's-'
Collier's finger caressed the trigger and the rifle cracked, loud in the white room. The bullet travelled less than a metre before traversing the plane of the temporal window and into the past. Automatically, Collier worked the bolt to chamber another round, but didn't fire again.
After briefly studying his handiwork, Collier thumbed the safety back on and settled the rifle on the table.
'Subject terminated.'
He watched the window begin to collapse.
'Now, what were you saying, sir?'
'Hmm? I didn't say anything.' Miller looked up from his control panel and then finished shutting down the temporal window.
Collier blinked and stared at Miller. 'Where's Grimes?'
'Where's who?'
Collier looked puzzled. 'That's weird. For a second there, I thought you were somebody else.'
'You thought I was...Grimes? Who's that?'
Collier shrugged. 'Beats me.'
'Strange.' Miller glanced at his watch. 'Uh oh, I'm late. If I don't attend this meeting they'll shoot me.'
END
(c) Ray Tabler 2007
Ray Tabler is a chemical engineer who was born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky. He moved to the frozen wilds of Michigan due to an unfortunate addiction to a steady paycheck, married a Yankee girl, is now stuck there and happy. Ray's stories have appeared in SFCrowsnest and Jim Baen's Universe.
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