First Hand Observers

The soldiers of Ilium and the wife of the prince of Troy, Andromache, all watched in stunned silence. Some praying to the father of the gods to produce a bolt of lightening, some holding back rivers of tears, some in despair of the hero who they cheered through the black, oaken gates just an hour earlier.

Achilles stopped his horses, unsheathed his sword and the one strapped to the chariot. Michaels watched as he approached. The sword went hurling at him, and landed in the dust near his feet. He picked it up, unsure of his next move. He decided then to fight.

Somewhere beyond the Western horizon, near the land of Argos, above the clouds of Olympus, a drunken man, older then most of the mountains that popped up above the clouds, watched a scale indicator move slightly off balance.

After the first blow, Michaels found himself defenseless for the second time that day. A slight vertigo hit him as it did to two young onlookers on the city wall, and to an infant fast asleep in his crib, to a giant, kingly warrior about to kill an enemy, and to a very wise old man.

Hector regained possession of his body as Michaels was pulled into the future. The charioteer was thundering down upon him, the cruel bronze readying to loose sweet life from his limbs.

For the first ten minutes back in the world in which they belonged there was a heavy silence in the debriefing room. Above the huge translucent sphere Masters was pacing the floor in deep thought while Nash was busy reading the piled up transcripts of the time travelers.

Dean and Michaels sat with folded hands, each still with the vision of barbaric violence in their eyes. Ashley and Chenille sat together, neither avoiding nor looking at each other's eyes. There wasn't much either of them could say, anyway.

The Coordinator walked in. Everyone's attention went to him.

"Gentlemen, Ms. Chenille "The computer and my colleagues have come to the same conclusion: history wasn't changed in any manner by Professor Michaels' intrusion. As it stands, he may have helped to keep history correct." Michaels leaned back, relieved at the news.

Nash looked at Masters who was still standing; then at the Coordinator. The Coordinator flipped through the sheaf of papers in his hand.

"We all know whose bodies were hosted by Professor Ashley and the rest, but we still don't know whose body was occupied by Professor Masters."

"Oh," it's very simple," Masters said.

"Mountain peaks, clouds, columned halls and chess pieces, etc., etc. When you add it all up it only points to one person."

"Well, out with it man. "Tell us." Nash demanded.

"I was really at the top of things, you might say. My host was running the whole show. I was with Zeus on Mount Olympus."

THE END