primarily in his honour. He is sure of that and behaves accordingly. He zigzagged
among the couches, tail high, accepting hand feeding, and rubbing against his
friends and retainers.
Dagmar came over, asked Laz to make room, and squeezed in beside me – hugged me and
kissed me. I found that I was leaking tears.
‘Dagmar, I can’t tell you how I felt when I heard your voice. Are you going to stay
here? You’ll like it here.’
She grinned at me, hanging on to my neck. ‘Do you think I want to go back to Kansas
City? Compared with KC; Boondock is Heaven.’
‘Good! I’ll sponsor you: I had my arm around her, which caused me to add, ‘You’ve
put on a few pounds and it becomes you. And such a beautiful tan! Or is it out of a
spray bomb?’
‘No, I did it the best way, lying in the sun and increasing the dosage slowly.
Maureen, you won’t believe what a treat sunbathing is to someone who would be
risking a public flogging if she sunbathed in her home town.’
Laz said, ‘Mama, I wish I could tan the way Dragmar does, instead of these kingsize
freckles:
‘You get that from me, Lapis Lazuli; I always freckle. It’s the price we pay for red
hair.’
‘I know. But Dagmar can sunbathe every day, month after month, and never get a
freckle. Look at her.’
I sat up straight. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said she doesn’t freckle. All our men are following her around.’ Laz tickled
Dagmar in the ribs. ‘Aren’t they, Dag?’
‘Not so!’
‘You said “Month after month -” Dagmar, I saw you last two weeks ago. Less than
three. How long have you been here?’
‘Me? Uh… slightly over two years. Yours was a tough case – or so they tell me.’
After being in the Time Corps twenty years of my personal time, seven years of
Boondock time, I should not have been surprised. Time paradox is no news to me; I
keep a careful journal to keep me sorted out, Maureen’s personal time versus times
and time lines and dates for each of the places I scout. But this time I was the
subject of the operation (Operation Triple-M = Mama Maureen is Missing). I had been
gone (my personal time) five and a half weeks… but it had taken over two years to
find me and rescue me.
Laz called Hilda over to straighten me out. She snuggled in between Lorelei Lee and
me on my other side; the couch was getting crowded. But Hilda does not take up much
space. She said, `Mama Maureen, you told Tamara that you were just going away for a
day’s holiday. She knew you were fibbing, of course, but she never contradicts any
of our little white lies. She thought you were just shuttling to Secundus for some
private fun and maybe some shopping.’
‘Hilda Mae, I did intend to be back here the next day, no matter how long I spent in
research. I planned to spend a few weeks in the British Museum in 1950, time line
two, soaking up as much detail as possible about the Battle of Britain, 1940-41. I
had a fresh recorder implant for that purpose. I didn’t dare go to England during
that war without careful preparation; England was a battle zone – easy to be shot as
a spy. I would have done the research and been back the next day, in time for
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dinner… if that time-twister bus had not broken down.’
‘It didn’t break down.’
‘Huh? I mean, excuse me?’
‘It was sabotage, Mo. The Revisionists. The same pascoodnyoks who came so close to
killing Richard and Gwen Hazel and Pixel on time line three. We don’t know why they
wanted to stop you, or why they chose that method; neither side was taking
prisoners, and we killed too many too fast. By “we” I don’t mean me; I’m the drawing
room type as everybody knows. I mean the old pros, Richard and Gwen and Gretchen and
a strike force from time line five commanded by Lensman Ted Smith. But the Circle