The Lilliput Legion (TimeWars 9)

“Sony, colonel,” Torvalt said. “It’s just that I’ve never seen a wound like this before. I wanted to make certain that there were no lead projectile fragments remaining in the wound. There could be a danger of lead poisoning—”

Steiger laughed. “Hell, Doc, if that had been a fragmentation round, I wouldn’t be sitting here. The bullet went clean through. Just spray on some disinfectant, slap a graft patch on and let me out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

Forrester glanced at the nervous-looking man who’d just entered the room. “With the security situation the way it is, I wanted Dr. Gulliver close by, where I could personally keep an eye on him.”

“Forgive me, gentlemen,” Gulliver said, hesitantly. “I did not mean to intrude, but I …” he stared at Andre. “Good Lord! You’re a woman!”

“I was last time I checked,” said Andre.

Gulliver turned to Forrester with a befuddled look. “But… a female military officer?”

And as he turned, he noticed the far wall of Forrester’s penthouse quarters. The entire wall was a window looking out over the lights and illuminated towers of Pendleton Base sprawled out below, a panoramic view that even included the sulpherous glow of Los Angeles off in the distance, to the north, Gulliver gasped.

“Merciful heavens! Where in God’s name am I?” He approached the window slowly. “I could have sworn there was a wall here when I came in!”

Forrester picked up his remote ambience control from the coffee table and opaqued the window, switching to the holographic slide. Gulliver caught his breath as he suddenly found himself staring at what appeared to be a solid wall, painted a deep maroon, with paintings hanging on it. The effect was completely three dimensional.

“It’s done with this, Dr. Gulliver,” said Forrester, showing him the remote control unit. “It isn’t a real wall, you see. It’s only a projection … uh, an illusion. A sort of trick. See, I can change the color of the wall in an instant if I choose to. “

He clicked another button, on the unit and the wall became dark green.

“However, in actuality, the entire wall is really a large window,” Forrester said, cancelling the projection.

Gulliver stared out at the view, mesmerized. “I am not insane,” he mumbled. “I am not insane. I am not.”

“No, Dr. Gulliver, you’re not,” said Forrester, coming up to the man and putting his hand on his shoulder. “You have simply found yourself in a situation that taxes all your beliefs. However, I remind you of the things that you have already experienced and seen and known without a shadow of a doubt to be absolutely real. And as difficult to believe as this may seem, this too is real. You have been transported almost a thousand years into the future, to the 27th century, where the advances in our technology make your society seem as primitive as Norman England would seem to Londoners in the year 1702.”

Gulliver slowly approached the window, then recoiled with a small cry.

“Don’t worry’, it’s quite safe,” said Forrester.

Gulliver shook his head. “At first I thought that we were in a house atop some mountain, but … dear Lord, this building must be his voice trailed off in incomprehension.

“A hundred and fifty stories tall,” said Forrester. “And it’s not even a very tall building by the standards of this time.”

Gulliver continued to stare raptly out the window at the panoramic view. Delaney came up to him and offered him a glass of whiskey.

“Here, Doctor,” he said. “For medicinal purposes.”

Gulliver sniffed the glass and smiled. “Good malt whiskey,” he said, with a weak smile. “Thank God for something familiar.”

He drained the glass.

“I think I had better sit down, if I may,” he said.

“Please do,” said Forrester. “I know things have been very confusing for you since you arrived here, Dr. Gulliver. One moment, you were in 18th century London, and the next, you were somehow magically transported to a sort of prison cell and held there without explanation for twenty-four hours. In fact, it was not really a prison cell at all, but something we call a ‘secure transport co-ordinate zone.’ We maintain a number of such secure areas and one of their functions is to handle unusual cases such as yours, where it becomes necessary to transport someone from the past without adequate preparation or warning. It was necessary to hold you for that time so that we could take certain precautions.”

“I know you must have many questions,” Forrester continued. “So do we. Alexander Steiger was a soldier, a Temporal Observer… a sort of spy, if you will. Since Col. Steiger had no time to send us a complete report, he sent you, instead. Whatever it was that attacked you and killed Col. Steiger located you by means of this.”

Forrester held up a little plastic envelope containing what looked like a tiny, bright blue seed.

“By means of that little thing? What is it?” Gulliver said.

“It is a highly sophisticated signaling device,” said Forrester. “It’s been deactivated. It was implanted under your skin, behind your left ear.”

Gulliver’s hand went to the spot behind his ear. “What? But… how? There is nothing…”

“You were rendered unconscious for a time,” said Forrester. He held up his hand as Gulliver was about to speak. “Yes, I know you don’t remember. And there is no point in feeling around behind your ear, Doctor. You will find no evidence of surgery, I assure you. Not even the faintest scar. Please, try to understand, we have the ability to do things that someone from your time could not even begin to understand. It is unavoidable that you will be exposed to some of them, and I will attempt to explain whatever I can if there is time; but in many cases, the explanation itself would require a complex explanation, and it would involve a challenge to your systems of belief. I know it is difficult, but please try to bear with me and accept that what I tell you is the truth. We need your help, Dr. Gulliver. Millions of lives could be at stake. Will you help us?”