me!” So young.
Forget
it, Chi. He must find the Axis, that’s all. That’s the sole object of the SOL
Project--find her. Only her. What other responsibility does he
owe these people? People who started the ruin of the future?
Anyway,
you cannot change the past. Everybody knows that. Under Tenet One of the Grandmother
Principle, you cannot kill any of your lineal ancestors prior to his or her
historical death. And under Tenet Three, he cannot affect any person in the
past, including that girl, unless the project directors have authorized him to
do so. He cannot aid her, cannot abet her, cannot save her. Or more precisely,
he’s not allowed to. Not even if he wanted to.
*
* *
Chi strides
to the corner of Stanyan Street and takes his first look at the Haight-Ashbury.
At eleven o’clock on a Wednesday night, bongo drums thump, laughter shrieks, bells
clang, tambourines jangle. Automobiles and motorcycles roar, horns honk. A mob
swarms over the sidewalks, into the park, down the Panhandle, on the streets.
It’s absolutely appalling. The stench of gasoline and body odor, mixed with
sickly sweet incense, nauseates him.
Is
this a vision of hell? To the technopolistic plutocracy, this is a paradise,
ripe and ready for exploitation.
Down
to business. Evidence supports Chi’s probable presence in this Hot Dim Spot.
His skipfather traced the Open Time Loop himself.
Oh,
fine. What is this evidence? Three pieces of evidence, no more and no less.
First,
there’s the carving on the pillar in the Portals of the Past. The key, a
reference to Chiron. But the carving is gone. Mega. There goes Chi’s fifty-one
percent probability.
Second?
There’s an advertisement. A local newspaper at the time called the Berkeley
Barb ran personal ads. And there, among guys looking for swinging chicks
and chicks looking for swinging times, was an ad placed during the summer of
1967 by someone looking for a guy with long red hair. And, yes, Chi is a guy
with long red hair.
At
least, he would be a guy with red hair if he hadn’t taken the radiation
vaccine and suffered the aftereffects like everyone else his age. He has red
hair now—very long red hair—thanks to implants, an unpleasant business to which
he submitted most reluctantly. Bella Venus had been understanding, if a bit
distant. On reflection, he realizes the red hair is a self-fulfilling time loop.
A small time loop, but a loop just the same. Not good.
And
third? The third piece of evidence is the CBS News footage that caused such
excitement among the Archivists. The footage shows a tall, slim, red-haired
person standing in the background of a scene shot on Haight Street sometime
during the summer of 1967. The original footage, when discovered, was
reconstructed into a holoid.
That’s
it. That’s the evidence, all three pieces. Whoop-dee-doo.
His
skipfather had said, “You’re the one, Chi.” He had tears in his eyes, but he
was sure. His skipmother must not have been so sure. Why else had she slipped
contraband in his jeans pocket at the very last moment?
The
noise, the stench, the giddy energy, the sheer weirdness of it all overwhelms
him. Chi decides to avoid the main drag. Hungry, but he decides against
swallowing a nutribead from his nutritional necklace. Drowsy, but he decides
against another neurobic bead from his pharma necklace. His supplies are
limited. He’s got to make everything last seventy-six days.
Find
a place to rest, that’s what he’ll do. He can sleep anywhere quiet, anywhere
private. His t-port training included camping on the ground.
He
sets out down Oak Street, but people crowd the back alleys, too. Man oh man! He
keeps to the shadows, avoids people. The shrewd inspection by the boy in the
bush hat unnerved him.
Does
he look okay? Does he fit in?
Or does
he arouse suspicion. There’s plenty of suspicion in this Day.
His
costume was designed by Archival specialists with--so they claimed--scrupulous attention
to detail. Beatle boots
Learning to Kill: Stories