of limited exemption from the Human Integrity Act enjoyed by certain law enforcement agencies. And now, let us proceed to have the TRDs implanted—a very brief, practically painless procedure.” He ushered Landry and Chantal out of the room. Jason was about to follow when Mondrago caught his eye.
“Question, Commander,” he asked when the others were well out of earshot. “This computer implant of yours: as a fellow Temporal Service member, do I also get one?”
“No,” Jason stated flatly. “That limited exemption Rutherford mentioned is very limited, and subject to constant scrutiny. We have to demonstrate a genuine need. As a practical matter, this means only the mission leader has one. You’ll get one at such time as your seniority and experience qualify you for the mission leader function.”
Mondrago looked thoughtful. “If you should buy it, sir, then as next senior Service member I’ll be acting mission leader, and if so—”
“—You’ll just have to get by without it. Sorry. We couldn’t justify extending the exemption to cover potential acting mission leaders.”
“Understood, sir.” Mondrago’s expression was unreadable.
“However,” Jason continued, “as you’ve pointed out, you’re a Service member, unlike Drs. Landry and Frey. So there’s something you need to know and they don’t. I’ll take this opportunity to reveal it to you. Their TRDs—and yours—incorporate a passive, microminiaturized tracking device. Remember what I said about the map I can summon up? Well, the current locations of the three of you are going to appear on that map as little red dots.”
“I can see how that might come in handy.” Mondrago showed no sign of resentment.
“Extremely handy. Especially when a member of the expedition is lost or a prisoner.” And most especially when the TRD in question has been chopped out of its owner and we’re trying to recover it. Jason’s hand strayed toward his pocket, but he was getting better about halting it. “Drs. Landry and Frey are having enough trouble accepting the necessity for any kind of implant. The fact that it has an additional function would only upset them unnecessarily. So you won’t reveal it to them except with my permission. Clear?”
“Clear, sir.”
“Good. Now let’s get to the lab.”
There followed the standard three-week orientation period . . . only in this case it lasted a little more than three weeks. The reason became apparent when Rutherford discussed the matter of language.
“The obvious pointlessness of sending people into the past unable to communicate in the target milieu,” he declaimed, “enabled us to obtain yet another variance of the Human Integrity Act—a minor one. In the interest of practicality, the Ionic dialect of Classical Greek—the speech of Athens—will be imposed on the speech centers of your brains by direct neural induction. The process is harmless and non-invasive, although it can be disorienting, which is why our standard procedures call for rest and, if necessary, antidepressant drugs afterwards.”
Landry was clearly unconcerned. In his excitement, he reflexively fumbled for the pipe that was no longer there. “Yes! Of course, this process won’t enable us to speak the language like natives. But that works out perfectly, since we’re supposedly from Macedon. Fifth century b.c. Greek was divided into four distinct dialects: Ionic, Doric to the south, Arcado-Cypriote (a survival of the old Mycenaean idiom) and North-West Greek. The last one—of which we’ll supposedly be native speakers—was the most divergent. In fact, Athenian snobs affected to be unable to understand it at all.”
Rutherford’s intellectual forebears, Jason thought with a mental snigger.
“Our very thoughts,” that worthy acknowledged with a gracious nod to Landry. “In this case, however, we will also be providing you with a second language, which you will find more difficult to assimilate: that of the Teloi.”
Chantal—who clearly hadn’t shared Landry’s Classical Greek enthusiasms—now showed definite signs of interest at the prospect of learning a nonhuman tongue. “But how is this possible?”
“I was, for a time, a prisoner of the Teloi, Dr. Frey,” Jason explained. He didn’t elaborate. “In order to expedite interrogation, they rammed their language into my brain by a brute-force version of what you are going to be undergoing, with no chemical cushioning. The language’s utterly alien structure didn’t help either. Nevertheless, I came through the experience with about the level of comprehension that would be expected of a reasonably bright secondary-school graduate in a foreign language. By a reversal of the process, this was downloaded from me, and can now be provided to you—with great gentleness, of course. If we do encounter any surviving Teloi, you ought to be able to haltingly