The crew of T. Isaac Miller Enterprises uses time travel technology to go forward in time to right wrongs, correct mistakes, and prevent disasters. In "It's About Time", a threat to the company takes Jaime Endicott and Collin Sutter, TIME's top travel team, forward to investigate their own colleagues.

It's About Time

By Bonnie Hochhalter

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Bonnie Hochhalter
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-5327-1

Chapter One

Ramon Gonzalez stood with his hands in the pockets of his grey flannel slacks studying the collage of clock workings that hung on his office wall. A brass plaque on the bottom of the polished dark wood frame identified the piece as "The Gears of Time". How Ramon wished he could have put those gears in motion to save his wife, but the company's policy was very strict. There was absolutely no use of equipment or facilities for personal benefit. He'd always believed it was a good policy ... until now.

Ramon sighed ... he'd done a lot of that lately ... and walked slowly across the room. The sorrow in his eyes and the sad stoop of his shoulders added to his 40 years. Suddenly a sharp pain flashed in his chest, settled there for a moment, then was gone. He could imagine Anita scolding that he hadn't been paying enough attention to his health since she'd been gone: not eating right, not exercising, not sleeping well. "It's not time for you to join me yet, my love," he thought he heard her whisper. He made a silent pledge to her that he would do his best to get back on track.

The brown leather chair behind his vintage mahogany desk creaked as he settled himself into it. The rest of the facility was sleek and shiny, all metal and glass and polished new wood, but Ramon felt most comfortable with this desk that had been his fathers before him. A stack of manila file folders his assistant had given him the day before still sat untouched on its corner. He slid the pile over in front of him. Ramon wasn't used to being here on Saturday since the offices were closed on the weekends, but ever since his wife had died in a car accident three months before, it had become more and more uncomfortable for him to stay alone in their empty house, so he'd been spending Saturdays at his desk. He was alone here too, but at least not every piece of furniture and picture on the wall reminded him of Anita.

He opened the top folder on the stack of files. Each folder contained a news clipping and notes on the date, city, and news service it came from. The headline on the clipping in this first file read, "History Arsonist Strikes Again". Why did the media insist on giving these people names? It just fueled the publicity, which was part of what they were after in the first place. There was nothing the company could do until the police discovered who the arsonist was, but this was the third time in three months that a building in historic Savannah, Georgia, had been struck by fire. It was time to put a stop to what was obviously a serial arsonist. Ramon scribbled a note to have a tracker follow this case forward, stuck it in the file, and set the folder aside. He had just opened the second folder when a chime sounded.

Ramon had heard this sound once before ... when he had tested the system himself seven years earlier. That he was hearing it now couldn't be good news. He went to his office door, took a quick look around in case someone else was hiding out at the company offices today too, then locked the door and returned to his desk.

Ramon stuck his hand into the top side drawer and felt around until he found the lever. When he flipped it up, a small hidden drawer dropped down; its only contents a black remote control. Ramon pointed the remote control in the direction of the collage he'd been studying and pushed its silver button. The wall panel in front of him receded and slid to the right until it was totally hidden behind the next panel.

The gap in the wall revealed a small anteroom at the back of which was a pair of what looked like silver elevator doors. The doors were closed, and there was no one in the anteroom. This puzzled Ramon because whoever had come here should be out of the car by now. He walked forward and pushed a green button on the panel to the right of the elevator. The silver metal doors slid open. He was surprised to see no one in the car either. Was this some kind of test ... or even a joke? Then his gaze lowered, and he discovered a small stack of objects in the middle of the car floor: a folded newspaper, an 8"x10" manila envelope, and what looked like a block of crystal.

Ramon picked up the objects, pushed a red button on the panel to close the doors, and returned to his office. He used the remote control to bring the wall panel back into place and then returned it to its hiding place in his desk. The office door stayed locked. After he settled again in his leather chair, Ramon spent a few minutes just contemplating the stack of objects he'd taken from the elevator. He was sure this meant the company was in trouble, but how much and from whom he couldn't begin to guess.

He picked up the top object, the block of crystal, and turned it around in his hands. It was smooth except for what appeared to be a control panel on one side. Ramon decided it was probably a communication device of some kind. He set it down on the desk. Next he opened the manila envelope and looked inside. There were several sheets of paper with writing on them, four plastic cards, and two keys. He closed the envelope and set it on his desk beside the block of crystal.

Now his glance turned to the newspaper. When he unfolded it, Ramon realized it was actually three papers together. The headline on the top one hit him like a blow: "Time Travel Used to Change History!" it shouted.

Chapter Two

If someone were to visit Jaime Endicott's apartment, they'd see that she was an avid reader, that her taste in music was eclectic, and that she preferred her movies to be romantic comedies, with science fiction as a close second. If they walked around the apartment, they might also notice that she liked the color teal and was especially fond of fresh fruit. What they wouldn't learn was anything about her job. Her real job that is.

Ostensibly, Jaime worked in a used and vintage book store in the heart of Old Town. In reality, each morning when she walked through the book store's entrance, she'd continue past the shelves of books to a door in the back and down to the basement where she'd enter her personal code on a numeric keypad. This would cause a concealed door to slide open, and she would have 20 seconds to enter the exposed elevator. There was no need to push a button because, once the door closed, the elevator would begin its descent. When it stopped and the door opened again, she'd have 20 seconds to step out into the brightly lit hallway in front of her. At the end of that hall, an electronic scanner would recognize her palm print and grant her entrance to the offices of T. Isaac Miller Enterprises, known by its employees as TIME.

* * *

Isaac Miller had been going through some boxes he'd kept stored in the attic. They were full of odds and ends, relics from his childhood. In one box, he was surprised to find several items that had belonged to his late brother. His niece would probably want to have them, Isaac decided, so he packaged up the items for shipping.

He was on his way home after mailing the package to his niece in Florida when Isaac decided to stop at the corner Starbucks and relax with a cup of coffee. The day was beautiful, and it seemed most of the city was out. Isaac decided that those who weren't in the park or browsing in the shops today were in this particular Starbucks. He waited patiently in the long line to place his order: a tall drip coffee with a shot of espresso. When the barista handed him the drink, he added his regular two sugars...