Tampering with events of the past could bring
disastrous results in the future. It was why
Brek was given a pair of six-guns to catch—
THE TIME SNATCHER
By Randall Garrett
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
February 1957
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"We're in a hell of a jam, Brek," the Councillor said. "If Sagginerisn't stopped, he'll change history. The situation's desperate."
Time Patrolman Brek Halliday nodded in agreement. It was a tensesituation. Time travel, he knew, was possible only so long as thetraveller into the past did nothing that would change historysignificantly; the time-stream itself would straighten out littlechanges in the past so that overall history would remain the same.
But a big change was something else again. If you stick your finger ina river, there are a few ripples around it, but the flow of the riverremains the same. If you build a dam, though....
"When is he?" Brek asked. "Do we know?"
"Fortunately, yes. He forced one of our operators to use one of thechronokinetic projectors, and then kidnapped her and took her with him.But he didn't know that the power drain was measurable and had beenrecorded on the meters. We know how much energy he used, so we know howfar into the past he went. We've got him pinpointed in the area of theold United States, somewhere between 1880 and 1895."
"Who was the girl he kidnapped?" Brek asked.
The Councillor smiled apologetically. "Dori Clayton."
The muscles of Halliday's jaw tightened. "I see," he said stiffly."When do I leave?"
"We'll prepare you immediately. It's going to be a touchy job to getboth of them out of there, so watch yourself."
"Don't worry," Halliday said quietly. "I'll manage it." He walked out,eyes hot with rage, thinking of Dori in Sagginer's clutches. His handsslowly clenched and unclenched as he headed down the long hall.
A Time Patrolman's first step in any excursion to the past is to learnthe language and the history so well that he can pass as a native. Forthree days, Brek Halliday lay in the padded tank of a hypnorobot whileinformation was poured into him.
Then he was given his clothes. They consisted of a pair of high-heeledboots made of treated animal skin, a pair of tight trousers wovenof blue-dyed vegetable fiber, a shirt of similar material, and abroad-brimmed hat. Other clothing and equipment went into a pack, anda money-belt around Brek's waist carried gold coins that not even anexpert could have told from the originals.
The thing that Brek liked best was the fact that he would be allowed tocarry weapons openly. Some civilizations of the past didn't permit acitizen to carry guns, but where Brek was going, a man with a pair ofsix-guns at his hips wouldn't look odd at all.
Brek had ridden a horse three times—once in the Battle of Agincourt,once at Chickamaugua, and once during a trip from Rome to Ravenna inthe Sixth Century. His fourth horse was saddled a little differently,but he found it easy to handle. He trotted it onto the platform andsignalled the operator. There was a brief hum as the chronokineticprojector warmed up. Then there was a sudden surge of power.
Brek's surroundings seemed to vanish into greyness.
Moments later, light swirled around him....
Plata City, New Mexico, was enjoying a warm, lazy summer day