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"We've got a room full of databanks, chocked full of footage. It'd keep you out of mischief for months. And make the money-grubbing dick some pennies."
"What do you think, Sal?" I asked.
She looked around the room and then sighed. "It's a lot of work."
"Grab an understudy from the Novitiate ranks," Rafe suggested. "Hell, grab two or three and put 'em to work."
"What about classes?" Sal pressed.
"I'll talk to Bauer," Fawkes offered. Bauer was in charge of training. "Make a little suggestion. If I phrase it right, she'll think revisin' old flight footage is a great way to learn about future rips."
"Hell, just tell her you had a dream about it," Rafe said.
Bryan immediately looked toward Sally at those words. Sal, for her part, was a bright shade of red.
"Yeah," Fawkes said. "That'd work."
"It's settled then," I rushed to say, drawing everyone's attention. "We'll spread the word to get everyone busy, looking like they have important jobs at RATS, and Sally will put a historical perspective piece together with contemporary footage as a showpiece for Anderson."
"If we get Bauer on-side," Fawkes added, "she might even help us sell it to our Lord and Master."
It wasn't exactly what any of us thought we'd be doing at RATS. We weren't searching for our lost Orions. Or our lost Interns.
Hell, we weren't even searching for Sergei Ivanov. Or my family.
I wasn't sure how I felt about that when we broke up and headed out to spread the word and each play our part in this little rebellion. It felt a little like busywork. Makework even. It felt like we were doing Anderson's dirty work for him. But our hands were tied, the clouds were thickening, Clive Crawford was gone, Jack was still under lock and key, and our Chief Overseer was throwing his weight around and didn't know the first thing about Time or RATS.
We were a family. Sometimes a dysfunctional one. But always a family.
And Parliament was threatening — had already started — to tear us apart.
