The Curiosity Killers by K W Taylor Page A

finger.”
    “I’ll give you a single finger,” Kris muttered.
    “Sir, please continue,” Ben said to Wheaton. “If you don’t, I’ll have to listen to more of this and worse.”
    Wheaton chuckled and went on. “Right, well. I found out what I wanted about the mystery.” He grinned, flashing a mouthful of tea-yellowed teeth. “And here I am, back safely to the twenty-second century, inquisitiveness fully sated.” He picked up his tea and took a long sip. “You’re welcome to do your bit erasing this knowledge, as I know is your process.” He sighed, gazing off at the ceiling as if examining constellations. “For it’s not the end result , you know, so much as the hunt for the knowing .” Another sip. “And now I do know, much to my immense satisfaction.”
    Wheaton looked proud and inhaled the scent of his tea. “Ah, very good, Miss Moto. What do you put in this? Very fragrant.”
    Ben cleared his throat. “It’s customary before we begin the process to at least, well—”
    “Tell us,” Kris interrupted. “All the clients, they get mindwiped so it doesn’t get out into the world, all the conspiracy theories, cryptids, cults…but we get to know, usually.” She looked at Ben. “I mean, I guess it’s not a rule that we get to know, but I just always thought…”
    “No one hasn’t wanted to tell us before,” Ben said.
    Vere tapped the side of his head. “Our minds are steel vaults, young man. We’re master secret keepers.” Vere didn’t meet Ben’s eyes but continued to look at Wheaton instead. “Rest assured we don’t divulge anything.” He leaned back in his chair. “Personally, I only care about the physics of time travel, so whatever unsolved mystery you unraveled is of no consequence to me.”
    “Regardless,” Wheaton said, “it’s not a matter of trust. It just seems a bit unfair, you getting to keep the memory while I don’t. I mean, do I have to tell you?”
    “Of course not, sir,” Ben immediately assured him. He rose. “If you’re ready, then, we’ll get on with the erasure.”
    Wheaton put his teacup down and got to his feet. He sighed and got a faraway look in his eyes. “The legend said the green children came out of the wood and startled the village with their strange appearance, odd manner of speech, and gifts of precognition. Over time, theories changed from angels to aliens to visitors from another dimension.”
    There was a sudden change in his movements, a shifting and turning and then a terrible clicking accompanied by a flash of metal. “They were green , after all.”
    Wheaton trained the gun on all three of the agency’s employees in turn.
    “I’m going to leave here with everything intact,” he said. His voice was even and his face relaxed, but there was a hint of hardness in his eyes. “And none of you will stop me.”
    It was true. None of them did stop him as Wheaton sprinted out, still in full possession of the key to a piece of unresolved—if unremarkable—history.
    Probably unremarkable . Hopefully. Yes, most likely totally insignificant. Still…
    “That gun…did anybody else think that looked a little weird?” Kris asked.
    “Kind of,” Ben agreed. “Well, yeah, weird. Not like any kind of thing we see these days.”
    “I search everyone’s belongings upon check-in and -out,” Vere confirmed. “I can’t imagine where he was hiding it.”
    Kris shuddered. “The green children gave it to him.”
    “From their home planet?” Ben asked. “Kris, that’s just a legend. Research indicates those children were Flemish, not Martian. The citizens of Woolpit didn’t recognize their features or dialect so the kids only seemed alien.”
    “Lots of nutritional deficiencies could give one a green pallor,” Vere added. “I’m sure it was all perfectly natural.”
    “That was no Colt forty-five is all I’m sayin’,” Kris said. “You want to put words in my mouth and say I’m calling it an alien ray gun, I’m cool with that.”