Acme Time Travel Incorporated - Volume 2

Glorieta de Mejico – Seville

Gabriel scrolled down through a visual display of weapons. The screen showed a picture of each weapon, plus details of its size, weight, practical distance for accuracy, plus the weapon’s typical usage.

“We can’t just shoot him, though?” said Ginny. “I mean, we can’t ... can we?”

Gabriel didn’t say anything.

“We need to talk to him,” said Ginny. “We need to find out who sent him.”

“Some of these things are huge,” Gabriel said. They’re like cannons. How could anybody carry anything like that thing, for example,” he said, pointing at a gun that looked like it should be mounted on a helicopter.

“Some of those weapons were designed to be used by surrogates,” said Vicky.

“What?” said Ginny.

“I think you will have read about SEG’s development of surrogate robots,” said Vicky. “A bit like Bill and Ben, but a lot more human-looking. Before ACME-TOURS took their market, SEG used to provide off-world tours for clients. The clients would travel in proxy, using the surrogates. And if they wanted to, the clients could arm their surrogates with ...”

“With fucking big guns, from the look of it,” said Gabriel.

“And just who were the surrogates shooting, then ... with their very big guns?” asked Ginny, disgustedly.

“I don’t know,” said Vicky.

“I imagine we could all hazard a guess,” said Gabriel.

“Anyway, talking of guns” said Vicky. “Have you seen a weapon that you think might be suitable?”

“How about that one?” said Gabriel.

“Can I suggest,” Vicky said, “that you might want to use something small and unobtrusive, but also very quiet.”

“Such as?” said Ginny.

“Maybe this one,” said Vicky.

The screen showed a small but squat pistol. It was a light creamy colour.

“All the others were either matte black or shiny steel coloured,” observed Gabriel.

“That one looks like a toy,” noted Ginny.

“It holds six small-calibre rounds,” said Vicky. “It is very quiet, and with very little recoil. It is accurate up to about ten yards. It might be just enough to make Smythe think twice about harming you.”

“Ok,” Gabriel said. “Can you see if you can get one?”

There was a vague shimmering on the floor next to them, and then a box appeared. Gabriel picked it up and opened it. The cream gun laid inside the box, pressed into some sort of foam packaging.

“The gun will already be loaded,” said Vicky. You should also see a spare clip of bullets in the box.”

Gabriel searched and pulled out the spare clip.

“There’s a small green button underneath the ...” said Vicky.

“Yeah, got it,” said Gabriel.

“Press that button and the loaded clip will eject,” said Vicky.

Gabriel pressed the button, catching the clip as it fell. He pushed the clip back in again, hearing it click.

“There is a safety catch on the left side of ...”

“Yeah, I’ve got that too,” said Gabriel, clicking the switch on and off.

“Anyway, what’s the plan?” asked Gabriel. He was watching across the flyer park.

Smythe still seemed to be sleeping in the flyer, and the other man was nowhere to be seen.

“How’s about we walk over to Smythe ... wake him up, and try to get him to tell us who ordered them to kill Sara and Zackery?” Ginny said.

“Do you really think he would tell us?” Gabriel said.

“He might.”

“And what if he doesn’t?” said Gabriel.

“How do you mean?” said Ginny.

“Well, if we just walk away and let him go ... he will probably just go and try to kill Sara and Zackery anyway.”

Ginny looked across the flyer park.

Gabriel wasn’t sure whether Ginny had heard his comment or not.

He suspected that she had.

“There’s no-one about at the moment,” Ginny said. “I’m not sure what to do, but time’s running out. Let’s try winging it, shall we?”

Gabriel caught hold of Ginny’s arm as she was about to stride away.

“Here,” he said, holding the cream gun out to her. “I think maybe you should have the gun this time. I don’t think I did too well with one last time... you know ... with the Bryce thing.”

Ginny nodded. She took hold of the gun. “Come on,” she said, setting off towards Smythe’s flyer. She held the gun in her right hand; held it down flat against her thigh. Gabriel followed on after her, looking around to see if he could see anyone nearby.

The park seemed empty. They walked past a section which was obviously having some sort of maintenance work done to it. The tiled surface of this section of the flyer park had been broken up. A luminescent cone had been positioned on top of a mound of loose rock and broken sections from the stone esplanade.

Gabriel bent down. He selected a small slab of loose rock. It was about the size of his fist. It was creamy-coloured. It had tiny red flecks running through it. He picked it up. He felt its weight. He clasped the rock in his right hand.

They looked over at the flyer. Smythe had reclined his seat back. “He looks to be asleep,” Gabriel whispered. “Smythe’s resting his head against the door of the flyer.”

Ginny took a last look around the flyer park. Smythe was seated in the right seat. That made sense. His colleague was the driver, so he would have been sitting in the left seat.

Ginny walked round to the left side of the flyer ... the side opposite where Smythe was sitting. Gabriel went and stood on the right side of the vehicle. Next to where Smythe was sleeping.

The windows above the door panels had both been lowered. Presumably because of the heat.

Ginny banged the butt of her gun hard on the driver-side door. Smythe jerked awake. His hand went straight towards a compartment in the dash-board in front of him.

Gabriel hit Smythe in the side of the face with the rock he was holding in his fist. Smythe’s head spun to the left. Gabriel dropped the rock and grabbed Smythe’s head with both of his hands. He smashed Smythe’s head hard against the flyer’s dash-board. He leaned into the flyer. He flipped open the compartment that Smythe had been reaching for. He pulled out a small squat pistol.

Gabriel looked across to Ginny.

She was smiling.

Smythe sat up. He put his hands to his face. He looked around him. Just outside his door was standing a very old man.

The old man was holding Smythe’s own gun.

A movement in Smythe’s peripheral vision made him turn to his left. An old lady was standing at the other side of the flyer. She had one hand on the door of the flyer. She had a gun in her other hand.

She was pointing it directly at his face.

Smythe became immobile. He watched as the old man went around to stand beside the old lady.

“Who sent you, Smythe?” the old man said.

“Who sent me where?” Smythe smirked.

“Who sent you to kill Sara and Zackery?” the old lady said.

Gabriel saw Smythe’s sudden look of realisation. “So, it’s you fuckers,” he said. “We thought you wuz dead.”

“Who sent you, Smythe?” Ginny repeated. “We know what you’re here to do, so make it easy. Just tell us.”

“Or what?” Smythe said. “What do you think you’re going to do with that toy gun?”

Ginny slowly lowered the gun from Smythe’s face. She pointed it at his left knee and pulled the trigger. There was hardly any noise from the gun.

Smythe screamed as his knee exploded.

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” Smythe said, sudden fear in his eyes.

Gabriel looked at Ginny. She was very calm. Very purposeful. She was holding the gun in very steady hands. Gabriel saw Smythe’s partner running across the flyer park towards them. He was drawing a weapon. Gabriel turned to alert Ginny, but she was already crouching next to the flyer, using its bodywork for support. Smythe’s partner was maybe twenty feet away, running in a crouch, running to take cover behind an adjacent flyer.

The guy stopped running. He couldn’t see any immediate danger. All he could see was an old couple standing next to the flyer. He could imagine that they must have heard the scream and come over to investigate, maybe to see if they could help. The old man was looking over towards him, his hands were by his side. He was watching as if ... well ... just to see what happened next. The old lady was crouching down by the side of the flyer. As if she was resting. Maybe she was unsteady on her feet. She looked very old indeed.

He stood up and looked around to see where the real threat was.

Ginny’s shot caught him in the throat. He fell to the ground. His gun clattered at his feet. He was gurgling and choking.

“I think I must have hit him somewhere serious,” Ginny said, looking down at Smythe. “God, look at that ... there’s blood everywhere.”

Smythe had absolute fear in his eyes. He looked as though he no longer had any doubts as to possible outcomes.

“And you’re looking very pale yourself, Mr Smythe. Not feeling too well, eh?” she said.

“What do you fucking want?” Smythe said, grimacing with the pain from his shattered knee.

“Who sent you?” Ginny said, her voice cold and calm.

“Fucking Dmitry,” said Smythe. “You want Dmitry. He offered us a fucking bonus.”

“Dmitry?” said Gabriel. “That’s that admin director guy, isn’t it? So, where’s he based, then?”

“You want it fucking easy, don’t you?” said Smythe, his old familiar smirk reappearing.

Ginny shot him in the face.

“Fuck, Ginny,” Gabriel said.

“C’mon Gabriel,” Ginny said. “We know who to look for now. Let’s get out of here before somebody else comes along.”

They walked away a short distance. Smythe’s partner had stopped moving.

They walked past him.

“Ok, Vicky,” Ginny said. “Can you please direct us back to the square where Sara and Zackery will be.”

“Do you want to be transported there?” Vicky asked.

“No thanks,” Ginny said. “It’s not far. We can take a walk.”

“Ok Ginny.”

“Oh, and can you turn the holographics off please. Just leave us as we are.”

“Ok Ginny.”