The Time Paradox

“Inside the sauna, Foaly. How did we miss them?”

 

 

“Their bodies were at the same temperature as the brick walls,” replied the centaur. “I’m guessing that one of the Mud Men opened the door.”

 

Holly magnified her visor to plus four and saw that the sauna door was open a crack, a wedge of steam pushing through the gap. The building was cooling faster than the humans, and so now they showed up separately on her scanner.

 

“What are those Mud Men doing here? You said nothing opens until eight.”

 

“I don’t know, Holly. How would I know? They’re humans. About as reliable as moon-mad demons.”

 

It didn’t matter why the humans were there, and wondering about it was a waste of time.

 

“I have to go back, Foaly.”

 

Foaly put a camera on himself, broadcasting his live image to Holly’s helmet.

 

“Look at my face, Holly. Do you see this expression? This is my stern face. Do not do it, Holly. Do not return to the island. Humans die every day, and we do not interfere. The LEP never interferes.”

 

“I know the rules,” said Holly, muting the growling centaur.

 

There goes my career again, she thought, angling her wings for a steep dive.

 

Four men sat in the sauna’s outer room, feeling very smug that they had once again outwitted island authorities and managed to sneak a free sauna before work. It did help that one of the men was Uunisaari’s security guard and had access to the keys, and a little five horsepower punt that accommodated the four friends, and a bucket of Karjala beer.

 

“Good temperature in the sauna today,” said one.

 

A second wiped the steam from his glasses. “A little hot, I thought. In fact, even here it feels hot underfoot.”

 

“Go jump in the Baltic, then,” said the guard, miffed at this lack of appreciation for his efforts. “That will cool down your poor toesies.”

 

“Don’t pay any attention to him,” said the fourth man, fastening his watch. “He has sensitive feet. Always some temperature problem.”

 

The men, friends since childhood, laughed and swigged their beers. The laughing and swigging ceased abruptly when a section of the roof suddenly caught fire and disintegrated.

 

The guard coughed out a mouthful of beer. “Was someone smoking? I said no smoking!”

 

Even if one of his sauna buddies had answered, the guard would not have heard, as he had somehow managed to fly through the hole in the roof.

 

“My toes are really hot,” said the bespectacled man as if hanging on to old topics of conversation could make new ones go away.

 

The others ignored him, busy doing what men generally do in dangerous times: putting on their trousers.

 

There was no time for introductions or doors, so Holly drew her Neutrino sidearm and carved a six-foot hole in the roof. She was treated to the sight of four pale, semi-dressed Mud Men quivering in sudden fright.

 

I’m not surprised they’re quivering, she thought. And that’s only the beginning.

 

As she flew, she worked on her problem: how to get four humans out of the blast zone in as many minutes.

 

Until recently she would have had a second problem: the building itself. According to the fairy Book, fairies were forbidden to enter human buildings without an invitation. This was a ten-thousand-year-old hex that still had a little sting, causing nausea and loss of power to anyone who defied it. The law was an anachronism and a serious impediment to LEP operations, so after a series of public debates and a referendum, the hex had been lifted by demon warlock No1. It had taken the little demon five minutes to unravel a hex that had stumped elfin warlocks for centuries.

 

Back to the original problem. Four large humans. Big explosion imminent.

 

The first human was easy enough and the obvious choice. He was blocking the others and wore nothing but a towel and a tiny security guard’s cap, which perched on top of his skull like a nutshell on the head of a bear.

 

Holly grimaced. I have to get him out of my sight as soon as possible, or I may never forget this image. That Mud Man has more muscles than a troll.

 

Troll! Of course.

 

There had been several additions to the Recon kit while Holly had been in Limbo, most invented and patented by Foaly, naturally. One such addition was a new clip of darts for her Neutrino. The Centaur called them antigravity darts, but the officers called them floaters.

 

The darts were based on Foaly’s own Moonbelt, which generated a field around whatever was attached to it, reducing the earth’s gravitational pull to one fifth of normal. The Moonbelt was useful for transporting heavy equipment. Field officers quickly adapted the belt to their own specialized needs, attaching their prisoners to the pitons, which made them much easier to handle.

 

Foaly had then developed a dart that had the same effect as his Moonbelt. The dart used the fugitive’s own flesh to conduct the charge that rendered him almost weightless. Even a troll seems less threatening when it is bobbing in the breeze like a balloon.

 

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