"Icarus went as expected. As _you_ expected." Sherikov leaned toward
the bed. "Cole, I promised you something. I mean to keep my
promise--as soon as you're well enough."
"To return me to my own time?"
"That's right. It's a relatively simple matter, now that Reinhart has
been removed from power. You'll be back home again, back in your own
time, your own world. We can supply you with some discs of platinum or
something of the kind to finance your business. You'll need a new
Fixit truck. Tools. And clothes. A few thousand dollars ought to do
it."
Cole was silent.
"I've already contacted histo-research," Sherikov continued. "The time
bubble is ready as soon as you are. We're somewhat beholden to you, as
you probably realize. You've made it possible for us to actualize our
greatest dream. The whole planet is seething with excitement. We're
changing our economy over from war to--"
"They don't resent what happened? The dud must have made an awful lot
of people feel downright bad."
"At first. But they got over it--as soon as they understood what was
ahead. Too bad you won't be here to see it, Cole. A whole world
breaking loose. Bursting out into the universe. They want me to have
an ftl ship ready by the end of the week! Thousands of applications
are already on file, men and women wanting to get in on the initial
flight."
Cole smiled a little, "There won't be any band, there. No parade or
welcoming committee waiting for them."
"Maybe not. Maybe the first ship will wind up on some dead world,
nothing but sand and dried salt. But everybody wants to go. It's
almost like a holiday. People running around and shouting and throwing
things in the streets.
"Afraid I must get back to the labs. Lots of reconstruction work being
started." Sherikov dug into his bulging briefcase. "By the way.... One
little thing. While you're recovering here, you might like to look at
these." He tossed a handful of schematics on the bed.