The Solomon File
by Janilou
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This short story can be viewed in my portfolio on FanStory.com at this address:
http://www.fanstory.com/displaystory.jsp?id=136787
What might happen if we could go back to change history for the better?
Category: Science Fiction - Short Story.
I hope you enjoy my writing.
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The Solomon File
A million odors and sounds assailed Laura Hill's psyche as she rushed through the space-time continuum
to their pre-programmed destination. Screams, like a thousand pieces of chalk being raked down a
blackboard, penetrated her thick foam earplugs. She landed, tumbling on the ground as time itself spat her
out. Teeth clenched on her mouthguard; she struggled to focus as the voice of Anthony Anderson, the trip’
s senior scientist, floated across her buzzing ears.
"Don’t worry. You’ll feel normal in a moment or two. Do you need a hand getting up?" He stepped toward
her.
"No, I'm fine." Scrambling to her feet, Laura brushed at her clothing, hoping to dispel the anguish screaming
inside her soul. She’d been warned of a possible intense emotional reaction to her travel through time.
Almost as though the universe wanted her to be aware of the possible ramifications of her mission.
Plop.
Laura squinted as the third member of their mission team, Dr. Karl Asta appeared, writhing inside a time-
bubble, which burst and vanished. The tall blond-haired Swede stretched, yawned and jumped to his feet,
grinning.
He winked at Laura. "Gets easier every time. Did you do okay?"
Laura nodded and smiled. He sure is handsome. No wonder half the women at the Institute think he's so hot.
Tony Anderson stood staring at a small luminescent screen on his time-transmitter. "Right on target. Listen
up, both of you. Don your Dorothies, before we contaminate our surroundings."
Laura shook her head, trying to clear the cobweb memories floating in her mind as she looked around the
small clearing. Birds twittered in the nearby trees and tiny streams of sunlight bounced on their reflective
silver spacesuits. Slipping out her mouth brace and leaning on Karl for support, Laura pulled on her red
Dorothy slippers. "How do these work again, Dr. Anderson?" With his clipped beard and tightly curled black
hair, he looked the part of the bio-physicist, time-research scientist position he’d held for over twenty years.
"Call me Tony, please. Simple, really. These state-of-the-art technological wonders enable time-travelers to
walk just fractions of an inch above the ground on a cushion of air. This protective barrier stops us from
contaminating the past, and possibly causing a ripple in the time-space continuum. It also protects our own
23rd Century from the possibility of us returning some resistant germ."
"I don't know how you guys do it." Laura shook her head.
Karl laughed. "We're the stronger sex," he said, ducking in time to miss Laura's playful swing.
"No, I meant how you come up with such lame names for the most technologically advanced footwear I’ve
ever seen."
"Oh, Dorothy, how could you say such a thing to your TinMan?"
"Enough." Tony's solemn voice caught both Karl and Laura's attention. He looked from one to the other
and shook his head, mouth pursed. "Damn. It's another Solomon File case."
"I wouldn't have volunteered for this mission if I'd known," Laura said, bile rising and burning her throat. She
kicked the dirt under her ruby-colored boot, sending mushroom spores spinning in the puff of air.
Tony reached out and grabbed her arm. "Careful there, Laura." He looked up at the sky and exhaled hard.
"I didn't know, I swear. I’d never have agreed to let you come."
She pulled away, folding her arms. "You know how I feel about babies. I’m a sociologist and a social worker.
Not a murderer."
Karl looked at Tony and raised his hands, palms facing upward. Tony stepped forward and held the tiny
device out in front of Laura's down-turned face.
"Two million people. Men, women, children and babies of the Swedish race – all eliminated by this monster,
Mueller. He's not fit to be called a human being. You heard the screams while we traveled. I know you did."
Laura glanced at the image of the mass open grave and looked away, pinching her nostrils shut with her
fingers. "Yes, I heard them. You didn’t tell me I'd smell it too."
Tony grimaced and nodded. "Whenever we travel back in time on elimination cases, the screams of the
victims always emerge somewhere during the journey, as if fate knew, somehow, what they planned to do.
The scientists programmed in the smells so we gain the full effect of the picture."
Laura shuddered. "That picture didn’t need any enhancement. Sociology never seemed so real."
"Exactly," Tony agreed. "Now, come on, Laura. It will be quick and painless, a kinder fate than this man ever
afforded his victims."
Laura sighed, staring at the gnarled budding tree in front of her. A bird flew from the tree, revealing a black
and white striped body offset by spotted wings. "It's April here. I wonder what kind of bird that is?" she
mused, following its flight path with her eyes, as it made its way across the azure sky.
"We mustn’t veer off schedule here," Tony said, ignoring her question. He punched in a series of numbers
and pointed the transmitter at both Laura and Karl. Laura watched the heat-resistant space suit she’d been
wearing vanish. The attire of what she assumed to be a turn-of-the-nineteenth-century Austrian midwife
appeared. Her long auburn hair swept itself into a tight bun, and stayed in place. She reached up and
touched her hair, amazed by the process. "What's wrong?" she asked, watching Karl shaking his head, a
smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Oh, nothing much. I don't think your clothing is quite correct for a midwife in this time period, but it will do."
"What's wrong with it?"
Tony interrupted before Karl could reply. "Listen up. We’re ready. The village is a quarter-mile to the
south." Tony tucked the communicator into his jacket pocket, and swung his hand forward. "This way,
please, to a new future - a world without the memory of Mueller the Monster."
Laura grimaced but she fell in several steps behind the two men, who strode out onto a well-rutted path
leading toward a small village. A horse and rider ambled past. Tipping his hat as he plodded by, the rider
addressed the men in his native tongue. Karl and Tony both answered him. Laura bowed her head,
averting her eyes. It wasn’t the place of a servant midwife to speak to a strange man on the road.
They reached the local inn and Tony paid in silver coins for the room before beckoning Laura and Karl to
join him.
The innkeeper called out after them. Karl shot a few words back and the burly man laughed, rubbing his
dirty hands together.
Laura tugged on Karl’s sleeve. "Did you say what I think you did?"
Karl looked down. "Yes, you heard me correctly. He thinks you’re a ho, a street woman. I told him you were
busy with us until Friday, at which time I would turn you over to him as a token of our express gratitude for
the room."
Laura snorted. "Filthy man. Ugh."
Tony frowned. "You’d better speak to the field researchers when we return. Your attire should have been
that of a midwife, not a whore."
"We’ll have words," she said, wiping a stray wisp of hair out of her face.
Tony hoisted his cloth sack over his shoulder. "Here’s our room. Don’t worry about a thing, Laura. This inn
burns to the ground a few hours from now, destroying every evidence of our presence here. It was chosen
for that very reason. We will teleport back to the year 2290 and five minutes after our departure the fire
starts in the kitchen galley. Sadly everyone perished, including our friendly host."
"I didn’t need to know that." Laura looked back over her shoulder. "If I do look the part, he can’t be blamed
for his remark."
Pulling down on a long iron latch, Tony released the door. Swinging open, it revealed a small room with two
narrow beds filled with straw covered by rough sacks. They stepped inside and Karl pushed the door shut
behind them.
"Laura, you are expected at the Hinterberger residence within the hour. Karl and I will detain the original
midwife before she can leave her home. Karl here will pose as Wilhelm Hinterberger informing the midwife
his child has arrived stillborn. You are to deliver the child, immediately dispense the anesthetic overdose
and inform Mrs. Hinterberger, who will have fainted immediately prior, that her child has been delivered
without breath. Comfort her as best you can, then excuse yourself saying you will call on the village priest.
He lives in the small cottage behind the church, three doors down from their residence."
"Why?"
"Why what?" Tony tugged on his beard.
"Why can’t we foster the child with a new family? The Alpha team did a very successful transplant of the
Adawolf infant. Instead of growing up to be a mass murderer he. . ."
"Became the man who discovered the cure for cancer. Yes, a wonderful case and very satisfying for all
involved. We transplanted a third infant whose mother had died on the streets back to the Adawolf family
and they raised their son to be a fine, if un-noteworthy individual in his time."
"So, why not in this case?"
"There is only ever one reason for a Solomon File case. The psychological profile testing and the computer
probability tests indicate a 99% or better chance of the individual in question becoming a menace no matter
where he is placed."
Laura sank down on the bed. "What about the other 1%?"
"I’m sorry, Laura. I really am. But these are questions that should have been asked before we left on this
mission. We cannot visit this exact time frame location again without the danger of causing a major
thermodynamic time ripple. Think of his future victims."
Karl looked down at Laura. "I’ll be filing a formal complaint with the commission on our return. Nobody
should ever have to be involved in a Solomon File mission without their prior consent."
"You two didn’t know either. Not before we left."
The men exchanged glances.
"No, we didn’t, but we’ve both agreed to attend them without prior knowledge," Tony said. "It’s easier, not
knowing in advance."
Laura closed her eyes as the image of the semi-skeletal bodies lying in a putrid open grave formed in her
mind. "Give me the address."
Tony handed her a folded piece of paper. "Meet us back here as soon as it’s done. We will visit the midwife’
s home and then take our friendly inn-keeper to his back room to share some fine imported bourbon
whiskey. He won’t bother you. According to the research, the only other person you are going to see on
your return path to the inn is another woman with a dead infant carrying him to her sister’s house to
prepare the body for burial."
"Any other delightful surprises?"
"Nope. That should cover it."
Laura sniffed. "This room stinks of unwashed bodies and stale urine. I’m certainly glad we don’t have to
sleep here." She jumped sideways as a wingless reddish insect crawled over the corner of the sack toward
her. "Ugh. Bedbugs! How did they stand it?"
Karl stepped forward and touched the insect with a narrow silver tube. It shriveled, its body disintegrating
before their eyes.
"I’m leaving," Laura said, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders and walking to the door.
The men followed her. No one spoke again.
Once outside, they parted. Laura hurried to the residence where she would exact the horrific task set
before her. Odors assailed her nostrils. My father always said, "When you travel back in time - the first thing
you’ll notice will be the smell." He was right.
Reaching the cottage, she knocked. Nobody answered, so pushing the door open, she stepped inside. The
unmistakable sounds of a woman in labor could be heard coming from the back room, and Laura bit her lip.
She walked back and pulled aside the dirty privacy curtain hanging there. The woman was writhing in the
bed, sweat pouring down her reddened face. Laura clutched the small package of death in her pocket. The
woman turned to her and began to weep.
"I'm here now. Relax. This will all be over soon," Laura crooned, trying to soothe the woman’s distress.
A quick glance told her the baby would be born within minutes. The head was crowning. The woman
screamed and fainted as the baby’s head breached her body, just as the time-research team had foretold.
Laura delivered the squirming infant, covered in white filmy vernix and blood. She reached into her pocket
for the anesthetic. The infant began to cry, his tiny arms and legs flailing. I’m going to be sick. Gritting her
teeth together, she let the vial slip out of her fingers and reached instead for the strips of cloth lying on the
side of the bed. Laying the infant boy on the bed, she talked to him as she wrapped the cloth around him.
He stopped crying and met her gaze. Smacking his ruby colored lips, he made sucking noises. Then closing
his powder-blue eyes, he drifted off to sleep, comforted by the firm bindings.
You look so innocent. Tears streaming down her face, Laura set him on the bed next to his unconscious
mother, and ran to the doorway of the cottage. Stepping outside, she sucked in gulps of air. A woman
walked past, head down, carrying a dead infant in her arms. She glanced up at Laura and stared at her
bloodied hands. Wiping them on her dress, Laura looked away and shuddered.
"You delivered a baby, yes?" the woman said.
"Yes."
The woman’s eyes were red and swollen. She pulled back the blanket from the baby’s face. "My third child,
another son, all dead. Alois will kill me," she said, her voice flat and expressionless.
"I’m so sorry." Laura tried to ignore the crushing pain in her chest.
The woman in the street sighed and covering the blue-faced infant. Lowering her head once more, she
shuffled on.
"Laura!" Someone shouted her name.
Laura looked up. Tony and Karl were running down the street, waving their arms.
So much for minimal impact on our surroundings.
She stepped back out into the street, and ran to meet them. "What’s wrong?" she blurted out.
"Did you eliminate the infant?" Tony gasped.
Laura shook her head and burst into tears. "Not yet. I thought I was going to throw up and I came out -"
"They gave us the wrong address. There’s chaos back at the time-station. This has never happened in the
fifty years the Genesis program has been running. The correct address is in the next street over. The
computer realized when they were tracking you, that the location wasn’t correct. There were two similarly
named streets, only yards apart. They’ve aborted the mission. They will retrieve us any minute."
"I nearly murdered an innocent baby?"
"So it seems. This is the Perner residence."
Laura looked around. "Then how come the woman with the dead baby walked past me? If I was in the wrong
location?"
"Not possible. She would be over in the next street."
"She is right there." Laura spun around and pointed. The woman was gone.
"This is the biggest disaster we’ve ever had," Tony snapped, punching numbers into his time- transmitter.
"Are you sure? The mother fainted, just like they said she would. I don’t understand the big deal. Why can’t
they come back and eliminate Mueller the Monster? If the location is off, then theoretically it’s possible. Just
count me out."
"Stand together please. The signals of our visit and the visit we should have made obviously mixed
together. Damn, we are in trouble now. Anyway, here comes the transportation signal. Two minutes, guys
and we’re homeward bound," Tony said. He punched in some more numbers. "Okay, relax, Laura. They did
just that. Look at the screen. According to the history-on-line library, there is no longer any record of an
ethnic cleansing of the Swedes. It’s gone. Mueller never existed past his twentieth birthday."
Laura wiped a dirty hand over her face. "Thank heavens."
"Fifty seconds to retrieval," Tony said. Laura took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to relax. She took one
last look at the Perner home, where she hoped a relieved mother would now be awake and cuddling her
infant.
Screams erupted from the house, and Laura froze. The woman she’d seen with the dead baby burst
through the Perner’s front door, carrying the infant Laura had delivered, followed closely by its mother.
Mrs. Perner turned to Laura, screaming, "Midwife! Help me, please. She took my son! She stole my baby!"
She took two more steps and collapsed as the mystery woman and the baby vanished around the corner.
Laura grabbed Tony’s arm. "Stop the transport. That woman with the dead baby just stole Mrs. Perner’s live
infant - the one I nearly killed! We have to help her. She could be bleeding internally."
Tony shook his head. "We’ve already caused enough problems. We don’t know if this should have
happened or not."
Laura shook her head. "No, it wouldn’t have happened. You don’t understand. If I hadn’t come outside, the
woman with the dead infant would not have known there’d just been a baby born. I told her."
"It’s not your fault, Laura. Twenty seconds to teleportation," Tony said, punching re-confirmed coordinates
of their exact location into the time-transmitter. "I have to be sure the pick-up location is precise or we might
arrive back in 2290 with body parts missing. God knows what damage we’ve done by being in the wrong
location and mixing with these people, but the blame is not yours. If it will make you feel any better, I’ll have
the computer trace the woman and find out what happened to the baby she stole. Hang on just a second."
Laura squeezed her eyes shut. She could hear Tony tapping away. Her 19th century dress vanished. She
touched the silver fabric of her spacesuit as it reappeared, subconsciously rubbing her fingers across her
stomach. The thought of her own children waiting for her almost four hundred years in the future filled her
mind. The familiar rush of air blew in her ears while the vortex formed around them and the scene on the
street in 1889 dissolved before her eyes like sugar in hot coffee. As the final images faded, she heard Tony’
s voice.
"Okay, Laura, here’s some information for you. You’ll be pleased to know that Mrs. Perner made a full
recovery. She went on to have five more children, three of whom survived to adulthood. Not bad for her
times. The woman who took her baby today was called Klara. Married to a man named Alois. Klara's first
two children died in infancy. She gave birth to a stillborn male infant on April 20, 1889 - our arrival date.
She may have been overwhelmed with grief when she snatched Mrs. Perner's newborn. The stolen infant
grew up, moved from this village in Austria to Germany. Wait a minute. Oh, no, this is awful. . . six million
dead? I’ve never. . . what the hell? I've never heard of this man but Klara named him Adolf. Adolf Hitler."
The vortex closed, sending a ripple through the universe.