Dr. Conrad Fielding’s office was a mess.  Papers and books and printouts were stacked everywhere, some atop filing cabinets reaching almost to the ceiling.  Charts covered what little wall space was available, and a white board was covered with equations, erased and rewritten over and over.  The desk was likewise covered with papers where there was room between two computer monitors and keyboards.  The doctor himself was sort of a mess too.  Late thirties or early forties, slender, with wispy blonde hair and a couple days’ growth of barely visible beard.  His pale blue eyes looked out from behind glasses on a face that would not have been out of place on an accountant.  Tamara expected to see a plastic pocket protector with an assortment of pens and pencils.

His voice, however, was deep, not at all like his appearance.

“Hello!  I guess you’re that DOD auditor I’ve heard about,” he said by way of greeting.

Tamara was introduced by Stryker, who then got right down to business.  “What are you hiding?” he asked firmly.

A pen almost fell from Fielding’s hand.  “Hiding...?” he stammered, looking bewildered.  Or maybe shocked.

“Your project has been using the Machine and not logging it.  What have you been doing?  Some kind of secret research?”

Fielding sat back down, looking as though he was going to be sick.  “Research...  You could say that,” he said weakly.  Taking a deep breath, he seemed to regain his composure when he added, “I guess it had to come out eventually.”

“What kind of research, Dr. Fielding?” Tamara prompted.

“Let me get Juliette in here,” he said.  “She’s been wanting to tell you from the start.”  He looked to Stryker and frowned.  “We didn’t think that we would get approval for it.  So we sort of snuck it in.”

“What in?” demanded Stryker.

Fielding lifted one finger in the air, and then touched a button on the intercom.  “Juliette, would you please come into my office.”

Juliette O’Neill was the exact opposite of Fielding; a tall woman of solid build, late thirties, tanned, looking as though she just came in off the tennis courts, and with bright green eyes that went very well with her wavy red hair.  A lot of Ireland was in her genes.  She smiled a little uncertainly when she saw the Project Director and a stranger standing there, looking more than a little nervous.

“What is it, Conrad?” she asked of her boss.

“The excrement is about to hit the air circulation device,” he told her with a weak smile at the old slang term.  “It’s time to tell them about our little secret.”

“Oh, shit!” she said, looking much like a person who has just been told her whole career was about to be flushed down the toilet.  Perhaps it was.

“Let’s go to the conference room.  We can talk better there,” Fielding suggested.

The conference room also served as a storage area with more filing cabinets along one wall and two computer terminals sitting along another.  At least there was a nice view out over the green mountains.

“Okay, let’s have it,” Stryker said as he sat down next to Tamara.  “What is it that I would not approve of?”

Taking in a deep breath, Fielding began.

“You are aware of the successes Brown has been having in fetching live animals, the dodo and Smilodon and such.  Well, we, Dr. O’Neill and myself, got to thinking that, since the Machine works for animals, it might be possible to fetch a human.”

There was a stunned silence in the room for several long seconds before Fielding went on, “A lot of reprogramming had to be done, and some other changes.  A human is much more complex than any lower form of life, but the principles are the same.”

“A human?” Stryker said with disbelief rapidly shading towards anger.  “A human!”

“We suspected that you would not approve,” O’Neill cut in.  “But think of the possibilities!  There is so much we have been learning about the past from artifacts.  How much more could we learn from a real person that we could question!”

“But you can’t just grab a person from the past...” Tamara began.

“It’s not like we grabbed a person,” Fielding immediately said.  “Any person we fetch would still be in the past.  All we would get here is an exact replica.”

“How close of an exact replica?” Stryker said slowly, emphasizing his words.

“Well, the animals Brown got are...  Well, truth is, it would be an exact replica.  The person would be real and alive.  Absolutely the same as the original.”  He paused a moment before adding, “Even down to the thoughts and memories.”

“Oh my God!  You’re talking about creating a real person!  You can’t just create life!”  Stryker’s face was turning an unpleasant shade of red.

“We didn’t create it; we only copied it,” Fielding protested.

Stryker took in several deep breaths.  Tamara was on the edge of her seat, staring in disbelief.  The only ones who were not in shock were Fielding and O’Neill, but they were edging towards it.

Before Fielding could go on, Stryker pointed a finger at him and asked, “You have actually done this, haven’t you?  You’ve brought into our time a person from the past.  Who... Who did you fetch?”

“Well, we figured we might as well bring someone here who could answer historical questions.  Someone of historical significance.  For research, you understand.”

“Who.  Did.  You.  Fetch?”  Stryker pounded his fist on the desk with the last word.

“Ah...  Jesus.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the room.