Corrupting Dr. Nice Read Free

where they purchased tickets, in three jumps, for ancient Athens. The steward took their bags and directed them to the departure lounge, where they sat and watched through the window to the chamber. The hotel's Gödel stage was of moderate size, five meters in diameter, surrounded by a field delimiter of stainless steel that looked like a guard rail. In the dim air above the stage hung the subtly warped geometries of the singularity emulator, and off to the side, behind their controls, were the technicians. The lights in the chamber were kept low, though the moments of shot and arrival were accompanied by flares of radiation that their window compensated for. A dark couple with their child--Amerinds, perhaps?--were being helped onto the stage. The woman looked nervous, but the kid was babbling excitedly.
    The stage was not busy at that hour, and Gen and August only had to wait twenty minutes. Still, Gen got nervous thinking about Sloane. They'd given Sloane what he wanted: escape from a scandal. But suppose he chafed at August's orders? Suppose, after he calmed down, he figured out he'd been scammed? If he'd hurried, he could already be back at the hotel. He wouldn't want to alert his wife to his playing around, but on the other hand, he was a wealthy man, accustomed to getting his way. He probably did not let social inferiors get the better of him in a deal, and if he ever did figure out what they'd pulled, he'd be a dangerous man.
    Gen could still smell a whiff of his cologne on her skin. If they'd had the time, she would have taken a shower. But they didn't. This was the cost of their line of work, and as the window blanked and the Indians disappeared she began to wonder if it was worth it. On the other hand, there was a satisfaction to getting the best of a character like Sloane, who had probably never had a qualm about taking advantage of someone. She imagined him sitting on four directorships and three committees of public morals, accompanying his virgin daughters to their debuts and cutting anyone whose income was less than his. You could pretty much count on the New Victorians to be the most ready to take advantage of a situation--which made it easy to take advantage of them.
    The steward finished locking their baggage down and escorted them into the chamber, through the barrier to the stage. They stood at the center of the pastel bull'seye. "Have a safe and pleasant trip," the steward said. August handed him a fifty dollar coin and the man retreated beyond the rail.
    At the control panel, the shaven-headed technician played with his keyboard, then looked up at them, smiled and raised his hand to wave. Before he had completed the gesture he and the panel and the walls of the room receded with astonishing speed in all directions. They fell into a dark space. Then the walls of a similar chamber rushed forward to surround them, and they came to rest on a stage eight hundred years further into the past.
    On the wall across from them, beyond the delimiter, "1,000 C.E." was set in a elaborate Byzantine mosaic. The technician at this panel, a woman, was blonde and blue-eyed. Without stopping they made their second jump, to 30 C.E. Jerusalem.
    Time to throw off any pursuit. Before the technician could set up the third jump to 400 B.C. Athens, August spoke up. "Excuse me," he said, touching a hand to his head, "but I'm feeling a little indisposed--that last transition was difficult. Might we stop here for a while?"
    "Certainly, sir," the tech's voice came back. A steward came from behind the rail to help them off the stage. He gave Genevieve the eye, and she smiled back at him.
    "There are vacancies in the hotel?" August asked. The control technician was watching them.
    "Yes sir."
    "What do you say we stop over for a bit, daughter? Athens will still be there when we choose to go, won't it young man?"
    "Sure. Always was, always will." As the steward started them toward the lounge one of the men at the control board frowned.