Jennifer Collins, sitting opposite and to the right of Nancy, looked at her with envy.
“To be able to meet Jesus Christ. You lucky you! He must have been a fascinating man.”
“He was.” Agreed softly Nancy before looking at King Stan. “Your Majesty, how are we going to proceed with this afternoon session of the Royal Council?”
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Stan took the time to wipe his mouth and hands before answering.
“The session will start at three, with only Imperium members present. That part will be used to put the members of the council abreast of the latest events. Your delegation will then be allowed in, to present its case and discuss any possible way to settle this crisis. Your delegation will leave the room after that, so that the council can debate and vote on the options proposed. I will personally inform you of the outcome afterwards.”
“Will a certain General Veck be present at the session, Your Majesty?” Asked Eden.
“He will, since he unfortunately is a high ranking member of the council. Why?”
“Then, I would rather have Princess Margaret stay away from that man, Your Majesty.”
“A very sensible and understandable position, Sir Anthony.” Agreed Stan readily.
“Now, lets finish this nice meal without repeating that general’s name: it tends to make my stomach turn acid.”
Twenty minutes later, the king declared himself full and left the table, giving the signal that the meal was at an end. Excusing herself with Prince Len, who would have discussed more history with her, Nancy escorted Margaret to their room and put her into the huge bed. She was about to leave when the young girl looked at her imploringly.
“Please don’t leave me alone, Nancy. I’m scared of these giants.”
“But many of them are nice people, like Prince Len and Dame Goshenk.”
“I’m still scared, Nancy.”
Hesitating only briefly, Nancy then smiled to the princess and undressed before getting into bed herself and passing a protective arm around the girl.
“Is that better, Your Highness?”
“It would be even better if you called me simply Margaret, Nancy.”
“Then Margaret it is. Sweet dreams, my pretty little princess.”
In a special surveillance room two levels above Nancy’s room, a psychologist sitting in front of a bank of video monitors and recorders nodded her head and took a few notes on an electronic pad before turning to look at King Stan.
“A very interesting character so far, this Nancy Laplante, Your Majesty. The princess is also obviously infatuated with her as a sort of heroine.”
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“You might as well take a break and get a relief while Laplante sleeps, Lieutenant. I want you to be in top shape to watch and analyze a documentary that will be viewed in my apartments tonight. It was produced by Laplante’s organization.”
“I will certainly watch it with interest, Your Majesty.”
15: 46 (GMT)
Antechamber of the Royal Council Chamber
Royal Palace
London, Imperium
“Ah, at last!” Said Anthony Eden in a low voice when the master of ceremony had the twin doors of the Royal Council Chamber opened by the four guards standing in front of them. The distinguished old man then approached Eden and bowed to him.
“Your delegation is now welcome to enter the chamber, Sir Anthony.”
“Thank you, Lord Carnavon.”
With Nancy Laplante to his right and Jennifer Collins two paces behind, Eden walked calmly in the chamber, a large room with walls painted royal blue and with a huge conference table in the middle. Four wide video screens adorned the corners of the chamber, while each of the positions at the table had a computer and a viewing screen.
A total of 29 persons, including King Stan, sat around the table. Lord Carnavon showed to Eden three unoccupied seats at the table’s end opposite the king. The seats sported booster cushions, to let the smaller than usual visitors sit at an appropriate height.
“Please take place, Sir Anthony.”
Thanking him again, Eden sat down and looked at the faces around the table. One face in particular, that of a thin man with cold eyes and wearing a green uniform, caught his eyes.
“So, there is that General Veck.” He whispered to Nancy, who nodded her head.
“I have him already covered, Minister Eden.”
King Stan then spoke up in his table microphone.
“Welcome to this session of the Royal Council, Sir Anthony. You may present your delegation now.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. Ladies and gentlemen of the council, I am Sir Anthony Eden, Foreign Minister of Great Britain in 1942 and Special Envoy of King 592
George the Sixth. To my left is Misses Jennifer Collins, my travel secretary, and to my right is Miss Nancy Laplante, Chief of Operations of the Time Patrol.”
All eyes stared at Nancy, many of them frankly hostile, as Eden went on.
“We have come here with two main goals in mind: first, to win the safe release of Princess Margaret of Windsor and of Group Captain Peter Townsend, Equerry to King George the Sixth, who were kidnapped without provocation in Buckingham Palace on the night of May 20th of 1942; and to try to prevent further hostilities between us. We hope that, in exchange with the return of our two people, we could return to you the 42
members of the Imperium presently held in London in 1942 and sign a treaty of non-aggression between Great-Britain and the Imperium. This whole business had no reason to happen and the consequences of further hostilities are too grave to consider, especially for the Imperium.”
A man in a dark blue uniform with gold braid seemed to take exception to Eden’s last words.
“What do you mean by this, Sir Anthony? That you can win over the Imperium in a fight? My navy could walk over the Great Britain of 1942 in a hour.”
“Your victory would be a Pyrrhic one indeed, sir.” Replied coldly Eden. “You would then return to the year 3386 to find the Imperium erased from history and replaced by something probably entirely different. I will however let Miss Laplante, who is an expert on this subject, explain the logic behind this.”
“Thank you, Sir Anthony. Your Majesty, ladies and gentlemen of the Royal Council, history could be described in this case as a high rise building with fragile foundations. You kick these foundations away and the whole building will collapse and will have to be rebuilt from scratch. Attacking and devastating Great Britain in 1942
would irremediably change history and start something nobody could even guess how it would end looking like. The British would not even need to resist you to destroy you, since you would essentially destroy yourselves. Believe me when I say that history cannot be tampered with lightly. On the other hand, if you refuse to hand over Princess Margaret and Group Captain Townsend, the result would be about the same. With its sole remaining direct heir gone, the House of Windsor would eventually fade away in a constitutional crisis, the history of Great Britain would be heavily affected and the resulting historical distortion shockwave would either erase or heavily modify the Imperium you know. Another option would be that Great Britain fights back, not militarily per say, but by actively steering its long-term policies in a way that would result in the 593
ultimate disappearance from history of the Imperium. This may justly sound alarming to you, but things don’t need to happen that way. In fact, this crisis is the creation of a single man: General Alan Veck, your Minister of Security.”
Veck banged his fist on the table, his eyes shooting bolts at Nancy.
“How dare you accuse me here, Miss Laplante? You are the one who took away our scientist and who shot down our two ships over London. As far as I’m concerned, you are the enemy, not the British.”
“And you emphasized that point by kidnapping the heir to the British throne, General? You didn’t even know that the Time Patrol existed when you launched your attack on Buckingham Palace. As for taking away Doctor Tolkonen, I would rather call it offering protection to a desperate woman who was pushed into an impossible situation by your own thirst for power.”
“WATCH YOUR MOUTH, MISS, OR…”
“ENOUGH!” Shouted King Stan. “General Veck, you will let Miss Laplante complete her presentation. Miss, I would appreciate if you could proceed with a bit less spunk.”
“Please excuse me, Your Majesty: I was never good at turning around the pot. I would now like to present as evidence a recorded statement made by Doctor Farah Tolkonen. That statement should be self-explanatory.”
Veck reddened with anger, while the King hesitated for a moment. Stan finally nodded his head.
“You may play that recording, miss.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Taking a data chip from one pocket, Nancy inserted it in the reader unit of the computer facing her and selected a file for viewing.
“The statement you will see and hear was made by Doctor Tolkonen in the room we provided to her onboard one of our ships.”
The King and the members of the council grew silent as Farah Tolkonen ‘B’, wearing her Imperium scientist uniform, appeared on the wall viewing screens, sitting behind a desk inside a large ship’s cabin. Farah looked straight at the camera as she spoke.
“Your Majesty, ladies and gentlemen of the Royal Council, I am Senior Scientist First Class Farah Tolkonen, employed until recently at the Greenwich scientific complex under the authority of General Veck, Minister of Security. Four years ago, I started working on a project concerning the feasibility of time travel. As I progressed and 594
proved theoretically that time travel was possible, the project was taken over by the Ministry of Security and I was made to answer directly to General Veck. I say that I was made to answer to him because, two years ago, I was briefly detained and tortured on orders from General Veck. There were no charges to justify those acts. Rather, General Veck told me himself as I was being tortured that he wanted to show me what would happen to me if I refused to do whatever he asked. He then told me that he needed a working time machine so that he could have the capability to go back in time and eliminate in advance any enemy or political opponent he deemed too dangerous to his goals and ambitions. I then continued working with my two young assistants on the time ship project, but I was starting to ask myself where all this would stop. My two assistants were moved to other projects by General Veck shortly after the first test of my prototype time ship proved successful a month ago. My prototype ship was then requisitioned by Veck, along with all the data and plans pertaining to it. That was when I resolved myself to flee to the past before I ended up dead in some unfortunate but convenient accident, along with my assistants. I put my plan to execution and escaped to the past on June 18, 3386, going back in time to the London of 1941 with my two assistants. There, we were able to find Miss Laplante, who was then kind enough to provide political asylum to us.”
Whispers and exclamations went around the room when a young couple walked in the field of view of the camera and stood behind Farah. Nancy smiled discreetly to herself: the two young giants who had just appeared on the screen were not Mona Zirel ‘B’ and Maran Tolvek ‘B’, the assistants of Farah ‘B’. Rather, they were Mona ‘A’ and Maran ‘A’, the assistants of Farah ‘A’. The real assistants of Farah ‘B’ had actually been evacuated discreetly only two days ago via transit probes controlled by the scoutship WALKUREN, operating under cloak over the Imperium. The shuttlecraft that had brought Nancy, Eden and Jennifer Collins had not actually come alone, far from it. The message on the screens was not finished, however.
“Your Majesty, me and my assistants wish no harm to the Imperium. We would have been content to keep working for it if not for the megalomaniac ambitions of one man who is ready to rip apart the historical fabric of the Imperium solely for his own personal profit. We are deeply sorry that our escape resulted in heavy losses of life, but General Veck left us little choice but to flee. I would like to end this statement by solemnly swearing that I would never do anything to hurt the good people of the Imperium. I am also ready to say that Nancy Laplante is a person of honor whose word 595
can be trusted. She knows the true value of history and has no reason to hurt the Imperium, as long as the Imperium does not engage in acts that would endanger the integrity of history. We now say goodbye to you all.”
The heavy silence that followed was broken by Nancy’s voice.
“Your Majesty, ladies and gentlemen, I could not have said it better. There are no reasons to continue with this unnecessary crisis, which would bring only doom to the Imperium and suffering to the people of Great Britain. In exchange for the release of Princess Margaret and of Group Captain Townsend and for a pledge of non-aggression, the Time Patrol and the government of Sir Anthony Eden would return to you all the Imperium members currently held as prisoners in 1942 and would sign a treaty of non-aggression and non-interference with the Imperium. I believe that those demands are reasonable. The choice is now yours.”
Many members of the council, including the King, were now throwing black looks at General Veck as Nancy sat back. The chief of the Imperium Navy however appeared still defiant, probably stung by Eden’s previous challenge. Veck lost no time to fight back, though. Rising from his seat, he pointed an accusing finger.
“Members of the council, what you have heard is a few easy promises from a woman we know next to nothing about and outrageous accusations from a traitor that couldn’t offer a single proof about what she said. Let’s look at Miss Laplante’s Time Patrol first. What do we know about it apart of the fact that it killed Imperium members?
Who gave them the mandate to regulate time travel? Did anyone actually give them such a mandate or are they nothing more than a band of mercenaries plundering history for their own profit and interests? What tells us that Miss Laplante will not simply disappear somewhere in time after giving us an empty promise or, even worse, modify history in order to eliminate a potential competitor to her Time Patrol? I say that the Time Patrol is a mortal threat to the Imperium and must be run down and destroyed, along with whoever supports it. Yes, there probably is someone who is providing support to the Time Patrol. How could they get their ships otherwise? Since that someone can’t obviously be in our past, it must be somewhere in a distant future, or even in a parallel timeline that we know nothing of yet. As for the British, I agree that we will have to return the two prisoners we hold in order to preserve our place in history. I recognize that tactical errors were made, but our raid did succeed in flushing out this Time Patrol and our renegades, Doctor Tolkonen and her assistants. I thus recommend that we free Princess Margaret and Group Captain Townsend and sign a non-596
aggression treaty with the Great Britain of 1942, while at the same time arresting Miss Laplante for acts of war against the Imperium, so that we could get the information needed to find and destroy her Time Patrol.”
Eden was about to jump out of his seat with indignation when Nancy held him down and whispered to him.
“Let it be, sir. I was kind of expecting something like this. The question now is whether the other members will follow his recommendations. That is not a given yet.”
Another member of the council, a mature woman with a sharp, inquisitive look, then asked and got permission to speak from the king.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as the Minister of Science and Technology, something General Veck said is in my mind of crucial importance, even if it was only mentioned quickly. I am talking about the possibility that one or more parallel timelines exist in this universe. In fact, I believe that Doctor Tolkonen was reportedly researching that theory when she disappeared in the past. If it were a valid theory, then it would explain many things. Lets not forget that Miss Laplante, as the first recorded time traveler, appeared in Great Britain in 1940 and supposedly came from the year 2012. We all know that by 2012 the world was little more than a radioactive desert. Yet, from the belongings she brought with her, including a ground vehicle, it appears that her world was far from being a wasteland. Also, a civilization comparable technologically to ours could exist in parallel to us and be the source of support to the Time Patrol. Remember the strange phenomenons we experienced three years ago, including widespread hallucinations.
These could have been manifestations of such a parallel timeline. Am I right on this, Miss Laplante?”
Nancy silently swore to herself: the minister’s logic was flawless. Acknowledging the truth would blow away all the disinformation work she had done so far, while refusing to comment on this would be as good as confessing the truth. Keeping a straight face and a calm voice, she rose from her seat and faced the minister.
“Minister, while the theory of parallel timelines is interesting, it is still only a theory. In my history in 2012, before I was kidnapped by scientists from the far future, to be used as a guinea pig, there had been no nuclear war in the 20th century. My actions in 1940, when I was not yet aware how and why I had ended up there, probably rewrote history and set the stage for the nuclear war of 1986. When Farah Tolkonen showed up with her two assistants, searching for me, she unknowingly closed what I would call a time causality loop: she was the one who provided me the means to go back to the 597
future and settle accounts with the civilization from which my kidnappers came from.
That civilization then helped me create the Time Patrol. However, the Time Patrol is no longer fixed to a single location or time. We wander up and down time on our ships, which render us nearly invulnerable to surprises attacks. That is all I can tell you at this time.”
Nancy then sat back, satisfied that she had provided a plausible enough story to the council. She however didn’t realize that she had just made a big mistake: she had underestimated the level of treachery and plotting to which the Imperium was accustomed. Unknown to her or Eden, the visitors’ positions at the conference table were equipped with sensors that could remotely scan and analyze various body parameters in the same way an old polygraph test machine would, enabling King Stan, who was monitoring discreetly the data from the sensors, to know when Nancy lied or told the truth. Stan kept a straight face during her presentation, rising from his seat when she sat down and addressing the council.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I believe that we can now go to the third phase of this meeting, to discuss our options and take a vote. Sir Anthony, if I may ask your delegation to go wait in the antechamber for our decision.”
“We will leave now, Your Majesty.”
Followed by Jennifer and Nancy, Eden left the council chamber and went to a comfortable sofa in a corner of the antechamber. Nancy sat next to him, so they could speak without being heard. They waited until a waiter had served them cups of Champagne and had walked away to speak in near whispers.
“What do you think they will decide, Miss Laplante?”
“I am not sure yet, Sir Anthony. That minister of science made me worried for a moment. If you don’t mind, I will ask you to let me concentrate, so that I could listen to the council’s discussion.”
“Listen? But we can’t hear a thing from here. That room is heavily sound-proofed.”
“Sir Anthony, here is a confidence to be kept strictly to yourself: I am a telepath.”
“A telepath? Dear God, this could actually be handy right now.”
“Indeed! Please excuse me if I don’t speak to you for a while.”
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In the palace surveillance center, the specialist watching Nancy’s every moves tensed up in his chair: while he couldn’t hear what she and Eden said, he could read on their lips, a talent that was a prerequisite for a surveillance specialist.
“I am a telepath…” Repeated the specialist to himself, feeling a chill go down his spine. He then grabbed his videophone and, without even bothering going through his shift supervisor, called the King. In the council chamber, Stan was watching the others argue animatedly between themselves when his wrist videophone buzzed. Activating it, he looked with annoyance at the junior specialist visible on the small screen.
“This better be good, mister.”
“Your Majesty, I intercepted something that Nancy Laplante just said to Foreign Minister Eden. First, though, I must warn you to empty your mind and to control your thoughts: Laplante is a telepath.”
A sense of dread and betrayal fell on the King at those words. In the 29th century, a scientist had created through genetic manipulations a number of persons with supernatural mental powers. Telepathy had been one of those powers. The general reaction to those mutants had been violent, with mutants, also called ‘psyonics’, mercilessly hunted down and killed. Even to this day, being a psyonic in the Imperium was a sure ticket to a quick execution. Forcing himself to keep his mind empty, Stan answered the specialist instinctively, without thinking his words.
“Thank you, Specialist, and good job. Keep her under tight watch.”
Stan then switched off his wrist videophone and got up from his seat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, there is obviously a lot of controversy on the present subject. I thus propose that we adjourn this meeting until eight O’clock tomorrow morning, to let you time to think this problem overnight. I will however ask the ministers of security and science and the head of the navy to stay behind for a moment. Thank you for your time. By the way, I will ask you not to speak with the British delegation on your way out.”
Then moving quickly, Stan preceded the council members out of the chamber and went to Nancy and Eden, who got up from their sofa.
“That was a short debate, Your Majesty.” Remarked Eden, making Stan smile.
“That’s because the debate is not closed yet, Sir Anthony. In view of the level of feelings involved, I have decided to postpone the vote until tomorrow morning, to let heads cool down.”
“An understandable delay indeed, Your Majesty.”
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“Isn’t it? I am afraid that I now have a few things to attend to. May I ask you to return to my private lounge in the meantime? A servant will show you the way.”
“That won’t be necessary, Your Majesty: I remember where it is.”
“Excellent! Then I will see you in less than one hour.”
Making sure that the delegation left the antechamber first, Stan then returned to Veck and the two other members of the council waiting inside the chamber.
“What is happening, Your Majesty?” Asked an intrigued Admiral Vortak as the King led him and the others out of the chamber via a hidden door.
“Don’t ask and don’t think about it, Admiral!. Trust me on this.”
They followed a narrow hallway devoid of doors for a good fifty paces before encountering a steel security door. Stan put his hand on a fingerprint recognition pad and made the door slide open, revealing a small hangar housing three aircars. He then motioned to the duty driver sitting at a desk and reading an electronic book.
“Ben, we are going out for a ride. We will head East towards the sea at top speed.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” Answered the duty driver, jumping on his feet and running towards a big black aircar and opening its doors. Stan and the three others piled in the rear section and barely had time to buckle their seat belts before the aircar flew out of its second level hangar and climbed in the sky. After one minute of flying at top speed, Stan sighed with relief and looked gravely at the others.
“I am sorry about this little mystery but I was just informed that Laplante is a telepath: her words were intercepted as she confided to Eden in the antechamber.”
“A psyonic!” Spat out Veck with revulsion. “Then she came here to spy on us under the cover of a diplomatic mission.”
“Probably. We will now have to be extremely cautious with her. Minister Daewo, if I remember well, they had developed a technique in the 29th century to neutralize the special mental powers of the psyonics, no?”
“They did, Your Majesty. It was a sort of emitter that produced a specific wavelength that interfered with the special brain activity of the psyonics. It also gave them headaches as a side effect.”
“Then we need such an emitter. How long would it take to manufacture one?”
The minister of science and technology thought for a moment.
“We may not need to manufacture one, Your Majesty. If I remember well, there is still a working model exposed in the London Museum of Science.”
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Stan immediately turned his head to look at the driver.
“Ben, head to the London Museum of Science now.”
He then looked back at the three members of the council, a mean smile on his face.
“Once we will have something to counter Miss Laplante’s powers, we will turn the tables on her. Here is what I propose we do…”
18:57 (GMT)
The King’s private dining room
Royal Palace
“Now, that was an excellent lamb roast, wasn’t it, Miss Laplante?” Said merrily Stan while wiping his mouth and hands. Nancy, not feeling well and with a constant buzz inside her head, smiled weakly.
“It was, Your Majesty, but I seem to have developed a persistent headache.
Would you mind if I skipped the dessert?”
“It’s your loss. We could review your historical documentary once we are all finished eating.”
“Yes! I would love that.” Exclaimed Princess Margaret.
“Then we will do so.” Pronounced Stan. “No point in making our dear Margaret wait much longer.”
“I have to say that I am myself quite interested in it, Your Majesty.” Said Anthony Eden. “I may add that your son Len is positively jumping with impatience in his chair.”
“Surprise, surprise.” Replied Stan, amused. “Then let’s devour the chocolate cake quickly.”
The chocolate cake was