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Elizabeth soon found herself alone with Nancy and seven other apprentices in the room. Nancy led them inside an adjacent room that turned out to be a weapons vault, with racks full of weapons of varying size. Otto Skorzeni’s eyes popped wide open while he smiled at the sight of the weapons.
“Now, this is one nicely furnished room.”
“And you will get to play with those toys as well.” Replied Nancy. “Now, be honest, all of you, and raise your hand if you never fired a gun before.”
Sylvie Comeau lifted one hand up.
“Good! Who has never fired an automatic weapon before?”
Everybody but Otto Skorzeni, George Townsend and Tom Allen rose a hand. Nancy nodded once.
“Then this is a good time to learn.”
Going to three different racks, Nancy picked up two pistols, a submachine-gun, two assault rifles and two heavy-looking weapons, laying them down on a table inside the vault. She then picked up the first pistol, a small and compact weapon with a futuristic shape, and held it high.
“This is a stun pistol, a non-lethal weapon produced here in the 34th Century by the Global Council for the use of its security officers. We will study it, along with the Smith & Wesson COBRA 10mm pistol, the Colt RAPTOR 10mm machine pistol, the Colt TERMINATOR 6mm assault rifle with grenade launcher, the AS Val suppressed assault rifle, the Colt DRAGON automatic grenade launcher and the Barrett SSSR-50 heavy sniper rifle. We also have in our stocks of weapons a full assortment of hand grenades, portable missile systems and explosives, but those will be for later training sessions. On top of learning to use all of those weapons, you will receive as well intensive training on how to use ancient weapons. I promise you that your next few months will be quite busy.’’
‘’That suits me just fine, Nancy.’’ Said Skorzeni, smiling, as he admired the weapons on the table. ‘’By what will we start?’’
‘’By the stun pistol, which is worn by all members of the Time Patrol, including the scientific staff. Even avowed pacifists like Amelia Earhart will practice with one, since it is a non-lethal weapon.’’
Nancy spent less than fifteen minutes on the stun pistol, it being a very simple weapon to use and maintain. The other weapons were covered much more in detail, 317
taking on average forty minutes per type of weapon. Otto Skorzeni, like George Townsend, was particularly impressed by the Colt TERMINATOR combination assault rifle and grenade launcher, with its capacity of 120 6mm caliber high velocity rounds, plus three ready-to-fire 50mm dual-purpose grenades in a launch tube placed under the bloc of twelve rifle barrels.
“Himmel! I like this!”
“You will have a chance to shoot it this afternoon, Otto, like the others here. Now that I have shown you how to handle in a secure manner those various weapons, I will distribute to each of you a panoply of weapons that will become your personal weapons from this moment on. Take good care of them, as they may save your life one day.
Don’t be jealous if some of you get more weapons than you do: while Otto and George will need to use all of these weapons as designated ground assault specialist, I doubt that the future scoutship pilots in this group will have a need for the SSSR-50 heavy sniper rifle or DRAGON automatic grenade launcher.’’
Nancy then made them line up again to enter the weapons vault and, using a list in her hand, had each apprentice take one example each of the weapons they were individually due to hold on to, plus a pair of ear defenders. That left Otto Skorzeni and George Townsend in particular heavily loaded with weapons. Leaving the weapons vault, they crossed the training room and followed a hallway that led them to a long line of firing positions. The rifle firing hall was a long, narrow building with a large window in front of each firing position. Those windows were opened when firing was conducted, like in the present case. The hall was thus quite cold, despite heating fans working full blast. It was also quite noisy, with other apprentices already firing rifles. Nancy next assigned a position to each of the apprentices of her group. Staying besides Elizabeth, she signaled Jack and Mike Crawford, who were supervising the other apprentices, to approach.
“Jack, you coach Sylvie Comeau on basic rifle shooting techniques. Mike, you do the same with Patricia Wilson. I will take care of Elizabeth.”
Nancy then distributed one loaded rifle magazine block to each of the apprentices.
“You have now 120 rounds each to practice today. I want you to start on semi-automatic, slow firing only, to get the feel of your weapons. Concentrate first on producing tight groups of five bullets, so that we can assess your level of shooting proficiency. I will assess you all after the first grouping. You may take position now.”
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She next told Elizabeth to take a prone position on the padded bench of the firing spot and told her to load her magazine. Elizabeth did so and adjusted her rifle sling to steady her aim. Nancy nodded in satisfaction at that.
“You obviously have fired a rifle before, Elizabeth. You practiced with a Lee-Enfield .303, I suppose.”
“A few times, but I have more experience with a Mauser 7mm hunting rifle. My father loves hunting and coached me when on our Scottish estate of Balmoral.”
“Excellent! Take your time and give me a nice, tight 5-round grouping. The range is 100 meters. Fire when you are ready.”
Adjusting her sighting scope to the X4 magnification, Elizabeth took careful aim and, holding her breath just before shooting, gently squeezed the trigger. The trigger proved to be quite sensitive and crisp, while the felt recoil was fairly mild. The muzzle blast and noise were another matter, though.
“Wow! That ammunition appears quite a lot more powerful than the ones I used, yet the recoil was not as hard as I expected.”
“You can thank the recoil buffer in the butt of your weapon. Let’s see where that first round went.”
Nancy looked briefly through the powerful telescope mounted besides the shooting bench, then smiled at Elizabeth.
“Right in the bulls eye’s black. You are only two inches down and to the left of the center. Keep the same aiming point and fire four more rounds, to confirm your aim.”
Elizabeth obeyed, aiming as carefully as she could. She then put her rifle on safe on Nancy’s command and waited for her target board to be reeled in to her firing position by its electric travel rail. Elizabeth felt pride at her tight, less than two inch-wide grouping.
Nancy appeared satisfied as well.
“Very good, Elizabeth! Let me just review the others and we will practice more.”
Going down the line of firing positions, Nancy saw that both Sylvie Comeau and Patricia Wilson had a lot of work to do before becoming fair rifle shooters. The others’ results varied from good to outstanding, with Tom Allen and Otto Skorzeni having fired equally tight groupings that would have made any marksman proud.
“Well done, you two. It seems that we are going to have a friendly competition here.”
“He is effectively pretty good…for a boy.” Said Otto with a grin. “I will try to go easy on him for the next groupings.”
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“Speak for yourself, mister.” Replied Tom. “I bet you a beer that I am a better shot than you, especially when using automatic fire.”
“It’s your money, boy.”
“Alright, you two tough guys. Mike will supervise your friendly match. Just make sure that you follow the safety rules, though.”
Nancy then returned to Elizabeth and continued coaching her, directing her through various timed shoots and introducing her to short bursts of automatic fire. The teenager’s accuracy suffered somewhat then, which was to be expected from a non-military shooter. She was reviewing with her the finer points of automatic firing when a loud nearby blast made Elizabeth flinch. They both looked to their left as another blast shook the hall: Tom Allen and Otto Skorzeni were firing short bursts at maximum cyclic rate under the watchful eyes of Mike Crawford, obviously intent on outdoing each other.
The duel went on until both had emptied their magazines. Exclamations went around as the two target boards came up to the firing positions: the boards were nearly shot to pieces. Tom’s board showed however a more concentrated fire than Otto’s board. The Austrian nodded his head in appreciation and shook hands with the British teenager.
“Boy, I have to admit that you are the best shooter I have ever seen with an automatic weapon. The beer is on me tonight.”
Nancy was next to shake the hand of Tom Allen.
“Tom, I am proud of you. I declare you proficient with the Colt STORM rifle. The same applies to you, Otto. Both of you will be issued a full ammunition load for your rifles. Mike will now bring you both to the West wing firing hall, so that you can practice with the grenade-launchers of your rifles.”
“YES!” Shouted Tom happily. Both he and Otto eagerly followed Mike Crawford down towards the West wing of the training complex. Nancy then faced Elizabeth and pointed at her firing position.
“Alright, let’s see how we could improve your automatic firing. Don’t worry if you can’t do anywhere as well as those two happy triggers: even I can’t compare to them with a rifle.”
As the evening was approaching fast and the apprentices had completed their first shooting practice session, Nancy had them walk out of the firing range and return to the training room, so that they could clean their rifles. The apprentices who were thinking that they were finished for the day were however sorely mistaken. The eight 320
men and women under Nancy then joined up with the rest of the apprentices in a large locker room connected to an equipment storage room, where Mike Crawford had them draw protective equipment that fitted their respective sizes. Elizabeth smiled as she eyed Patricia Wilson, who looked like an American football player with her padded vest, gloves, helmet and knee and elbow protectors, plus a shield made of leather covered plastic foam.
‘’We look like blimps with that stuff on. I wonder what kind of game we are going to play.’’
Ingrid Weiss, standing nearby, gave her a ferocious smile.
‘’We are going to practice medieval combat, girlies. Hold on tight to your shields: you will need them.’’
Nancy then shouted so that all could hear her.
‘’EVERYBODY, LINE UP BEHIND ME AND FOLLOW ME AT A RUN!’’
The forty or so men and women followed Nancy out of the locker room and into a spacious gymnasium. The ceiling was over six meters above their heads and the floor was covered with neoprene mats. Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the sight of the racks lining the walls of the gymnasium: they were full of all kinds of cutting or crushing weapons made of steel covered with thick neoprene.
‘’EVERYONE WILL NOW CHOOSE A WEAPON OF HIS OR HER
PREFERRENCE, IDEALLY ONE YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW TO USE. THEN, FORM
A WIDE CIRCLE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FLOOR.’’
Taking some time to inspect the contents of the weapons racks, Elizabeth finally chose a padded mace that reminded her of a Zulu war club. Feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety filling her, she joined the circle of apprentices and looked at the others. The more senior apprentices appeared eager to fight, grinning and already looking around to choose their opponent. Nancy, also wearing protective padding and holding an impressive heavy mace, then stepped to the center of the circle, a grin on her face.
‘’Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time to see of what kind of stuff is made our eight new apprentices. For the newcomers, the rules are simple: no kicks and stop fighting the moment I say so. Apart from that, everything goes. Mike, you can choose your first victim.’’
The powerful American, standing 193 centimeter-tall and with the built of a footballer, walked to the center of the circle as Nancy withdrew, a huge padded war hammer in his 321
hands. He then made a mean smile as he pointed his weapon at George Townsend, who stood a mere 178 centimeters.
‘’YOU! COME FORWARD IF YOU DARE!’’
Not too sure of himself, the Royal Commandos officer stepped forward, his padded sword held high. Mike Crawford rushed him at once with a ferocious war cry that nearly froze Elizabeth with terror. A furious swept hammer blow slammed with a loud noise on the shield of the British, nearly sending him sprawling on the mat. Townsend didn’t get a real chance to recover his balance, the American assaulting him with a series of powerful and well aimed blows that denoted a real expertise in medieval combat.
Shaken by multiple blows and managing only once to hit Mike, George Townsend was sent to the mat in twenty seconds, taken down by a blow on his helmet. Mike continued to pummel him until Nancy stepped forward and shouted.
‘’STOP! MIKE CRAWFORD IS THE WINNER!’’
Mike roared in triumph, one foot on the chest of George Townsend, as the other apprentices shouted their enthusiasm. Nancy then helped a shaken and bruised Townsend to get up and return to his place in the circle. Next, she pointed another apprentice.
‘’Ingrid Weiss ‘B’, choose your opponent.’’
Ingrid, apparently most eager to fight, jumped to the center of the circle and made her flail turn over her head.
‘’LET’S SEE WHAT A TENDER PRINCESS CAN DO!’’
The screams of encouragement that followed around her made Elizabeth think that she was back in the Dark Ages, surrounded by barbarians ready to cut her to pieces. The young princess stepped forward hesitantly, holding tight to her mace and keeping her shield in front of her. Screaming a war cry, Ingrid advanced on her and slammed her shield against Elizabeth’s shield at the same time she hit the British teenager’s helmet with her flail with a loud noise. With the adrenaline kicking in, Elizabeth replied with a swing of her mace in the German’s ribs. A furious exchange of blows and parries followed, with Elizabeth putting to good use her souvenirs of combat from her previous life as a Zulu warrior. However, Ingrid Weiss showed surprising expertise with her flail, a notoriously difficult weapon to master. After over a minute of relentless combat, the superior level of physical fitness of the German teenager gave her the advantage over a heavily breathing Elizabeth, who tripped and fell on her back. Ingrid then pummeled mercilessly her shield until Nancy stepped forward.
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‘’STOP! INGRID WEISS ‘B’ IS THE VICTOR!’’
Ingrid stopped striking at once and presented her hand to Elizabeth, smiling to her.
‘’Good fight, Elizabeth. Here, pull yourself up.’’
The British took her hand and got up, but grimaced at once with pain.
‘’Ow! You sure didn’t go easy on me, Ingrid.’’
‘’Hey, if it would have been a real combat in the past, you would be dead…or worse.’’
Otto Skorzeni, who had followed the two fights with relish, then raised his sword high.
‘’Nancy, I want the next combat.’’
The reaction of Nancy, along with her war shout of incredible ferocity, stunned Elizabeth.
Making a fantastic jump to the middle of the circle, she slammed the floor mat with her huge mace.
‘’OTTO, YOUR ASS IS MINE!’’
‘’The poor bastard!’’ Said Sven Larsen to Michel Hofmann. ‘’He didn’t know what he was getting into.’’
Elizabeth heard that but couldn’t see how Nancy could win against the gigantic Austrian.
She was thus stunned to see Skorzeni quickly buckle under a barrage of powerful, precise blows, being literally slammed out of the circle after less than one minute of combat. As the big Austrian tried to recover his wits, Nancy shouted again.
‘’ROYAL BRAWL! EVERYONE AGAINST EVERYONE! THE LAST ONE UP
WINS!’’
‘’Aw shit! She’s not serious?’’ Exclaimed Patricia Wilson as the apprentices around her suddenly turned against each other. The young Canadian Army nurse then had to face Keith Strong, an ex-Marine Corps pilot and ex-astronaut standing a good 188 centimeters. A savage, chaotic melee followed, with Nancy staying out of the fight to ensure that nobody got hurt seriously. After six minutes of fighting, and with practically all apprentices totally exhausted or too shaken to get up, Mike Crawford won over Otto Skorzeni after an epic fight, then roared in triumph like a barbarian warrior.
Going around, Nancy made sure that everyone was alright, then spoke up.
‘’You now have a weak approximation of what a real combat to the death was in the Dark Ages and the Antiquity, minus the blood and gore. Work on your physical fitness, your strength and your weapon handling skills and maybe you will not get creamed by a band of Vikings or a squad of Roman legionnaires during a mission in the past. We will now put our equipment back in place and close the center for the night 323
before going back by shuttle to New Lake City. I hope that you enjoyed your practice today.’’
Elizabeth, who had quickly lost her fight against Jack Crawford and thus had the time to catch her breath, went to help Patricia Wilson get back up. The Canadian nurse moaned with pain as she got back on her feet, her legs and arms covered with bruises.
‘’Ow, ow, ow! What a thrashing! I hope that not all our training days will be like that.’’
Jack Crawford, standing nearby, smiled to her.
‘’Actually, this is an easy day.’’
The ex Navy SEAL commando then burst out in laughter at the face that the poor Patricia Wilson did then.
20:11 (North America Central Time)
The Timeless Club
Time Patrol residential tower
New Lake City University campus
Elizabeth, accompanied by Margaret, walked stiffly into the social club reserved for the members of the Time Patrol and their guests, her muscles still aching from the day’s physical exercises. The Timeless Club was an interesting mix of both ultramodern architecture and old decoration and furnishing covering a few millenniums of history.
The furniture was mostly late 20th century and early 21st century, while ancient pieces of armor and numerous blade weapons covered the walls. There were also quite a few fine pieces of arts and paintings distributed along the walls or contained in glass display cases. In one corner of the large, high ceiling room sat a long bar counter, while a dance floor surrounded by a number of round tables and chairs occupied the center.
Opposite the bar stood a small stage for musicians and performers. There were no musicians present at the time but a soft, relaxing music could be heard from hidden loudspeakers.
Elizabeth surveyed visually the club and the twenty or so occupants present and smiled: this place made her feel relaxed at once.
“Do you know if I will be considered too young to have a drink here, Bobo?”
“In England you would be definitely too young, Elizabeth, but here? I frankly don’t know. Let’s ask the barman.”
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The British duo went to the bar, behind which a handsome young giant man stood.
Elizabeth remembered him as one of the two persons who had served food and drinks on the craft that had brought her and others from 1941. The young man smiled to her, revealing perfect teeth.
“May I help you, miss?”
“You may, sir. Is fifteen too young to be served in this bar?”
“In normal bars around here, yes. However, all members and apprentices have the right to drink alcohol in this club. Common sense and self-restraint are of course expected and the barman on duty has the right to stop serving customers who are deemed too intoxicated. This said, what would you like, miss?”
“Do you have Champagne, by chance?”
“We do have a few brands, miss. The French ones we have are quite expensive, though. Could I suggest a nice Spanish bubbly wine at a much more reasonable price?
It is a very good one, I assure you.”
“I will try it, please.” Said Elizabeth, who then hesitated before asking another question.
“I suppose that alcohol is considered a luxury item in your society, since you are charging for it.”
“Alcohol is effectively treated as a luxury item, but not because of its cost.
Alcohol abuse is recognized as a potential cause of social problems, so its consumption is discouraged by artificially high prices, while public drunkenness is looked upon quite severely in the Global Council.”
“Thank God!” Exclaimed Margaret. “Someone finally took a sensible stance against the excesses of alcohol. I have seen too many good men ruin their lives with alcohol.”
“And what would you have, miss?” Asked the barman to Margaret.
“I will help Elizabeth with her Champagne.”
The barman nodded and, putting two long flute cups on the bar, took a bottle out of one of the refrigerators behind the bar and opened it with a loud pop. He filled the cups, then accepted Elizabeth’s bank card, inserting it in the bar’s credit reader after punching in the cost. Elizabeth approved the payment by pressing a thumb on the fingerprint recognition pad of the credit reader and punching in her personal identification code.
With Margaret thanking the barman and grabbing her cup and the bottle, now inside an ice bucket, both British went to an empty table in a quiet corner of the club. The nearest 325
other customer was a thin, nearly ascetic Indian woman close to forty who was sipping from a tall glass while reading a book. Elizabeth raised her glass and touched Margaret’s glass.
“To our new life, Bobo.”
“To our new life.”
Elizabeth took a sip from her glass and was agreeably pleased.
“This is as good as any French Champagne I have tasted at the palace.”
“Indeed! I will have to remember this brand.”
Elizabeth took another sip from her glass, then looked around her. In the opposite corner was a rather loud group of six apprentices apparently having a good time while drinking beer. She recognized young Tom Allen, drinking with Otto Skorzeni as if they were old comrades. She smiled at that and looked back at Margaret.
“You know, Bobo, I have never felt as free as now, even with all the studies and the training to be done. I can finally mingle with normal people and walk around without being surrounded by palace bodyguards or being told by those old courtier farts what I can or cannot do.”
Margaret gave her an amused look.
“You call the people here normal? They are the most eclectic bunch of adventurers, spies, soldiers and scientists I have ever seen together. And Nancy Laplante is by far the oddest of the lot.”
“True! That business about past incarnations is also quite fascinating. I have learned a lot from just my two most recent incarnations. I can now speak Arabic and Zulu and know how to track animals and use a spear.”
Margaret couldn’t help show some concern at those words.
“I don’t know about that, Elizabeth. There is a lot that we may not know about the true effects of recalling these incarnations. What tells you that a past personality will not overpower your present one and force you into things you wouldn’t do?”
“Uh, I haven’t thought about that, to be frank. Maybe we should ask Nancy about that.”
“And how do we know that she really is in control of her various personalities?”
“Then, what about asking someone else, Bobo? Take that Indian woman near our table. Aren’t Indians believers in the concept of reincarnation?”
“Uh, you are right.”
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Elizabeth turned towards the Indian woman, ready to go see her, only to realize that the woman was already looking at them, a faint smile on her face. Her voice was warm and clear.
“Excuse me for overhearing you, but the word ‘incarnation’ caught my ears. May I join you?”
“Uh, of course, miss.”
Grabbing her book and her glass, the woman came to their table and put her things down before offering her hand to Elizabeth, who shook it.
“Pleased to meet you, Your Highness. My name is Indira Saduranidrasekar, but Indira will suffice. I am an astronomer and astro-physicist from the year 2052.”
She then turned to face Margaret and shook her hand as well.
“I understand that you are Princess Elizabeth’s dressing lady, correct?”
“You are right, Miss. Margaret MacDonald, at your service. So, do you know much about this incarnation business?”
Indira sat down before answering, using her words carefully.
“Please understand that the concept of incarnation, as it is understood in India, is quite different to what Nancy and the apprentices have experienced. I have discussed at length with Nancy on the subject, however, and can shed some light on it. According to Nancy, our spiritual part, or soul if you prefer, is linked to our body in a symbiosis.
That symbiosis is however incomplete in normal humans, which makes it impossible to access the souvenirs of our past lives. The spirit is the usual repository of those souvenirs and normal brains cannot read directly the knowledge inside the spirit. What happened with Nancy was that The One, through its envoy, opened a full link between her spirit and her brain. She then gained all the knowledge of her spirit, apart from activating dormant abilities in her brain, which can now work fully in conjunction with her spirit. What Nancy is doing to us is to help our old souvenirs to the surface and make them accessible. After enough stimulation, our brains then develop a link of their own with our spirits, along which past souvenirs can flow. Since that link is only partial, we do not benefit from the special mental powers Nancy received from the messenger sent by The One. As for our past souvenirs, they are just that, souvenirs. There is no ancient brain left to back them with a will or an intent.”
“Uh, I’m afraid that I lost you there, Indira.” Said Elizabeth. Indira took a sip of her glass before continuing.
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“One of the first questions raised amongst us apprentices when discussing this subject with Nancy was why, if The One creat