11:07 (GMT)
Friday, May 30, 1941
Buckingham Palace, London
“Commander William Bennett, Royal Navy!” Called the Royal Master of Ceremonial. Nancy whispered a last comforting word to the woman sitting to her left before she got on her feet and walked hesitantly towards the royal dais. Bennett’s widow, all dressed in black, stopped three paces in front of the King, who took a medal from a red cushion held by a page as the Master of Ceremonial resumed his announcement.
“Commander William Bennett, VC, Commander of HMS FLYING FISH, is to be awarded posthumously the Distinguished Service Cross for his gallantry shown on May 14, 1941, when he led his squadron of fast attack ships into Wilhelmshaven’s harbor and sank the german battlecruisers HIPPER and LUTZOW. His widow will now receive the DSC on his behalf.”
The King then pinned the small medal on the widow, who was quietly sobbing. George VI then hugged her, moved by her distress, and had a page escort her back to her seat under the respectful applauses of the other recipients, guests and journalists present. The ceremony had been specially arranged to honor the participants of Operation Backstabber and many journalists, both foreign and British, attended the ceremony, along with a few diplomats. The audience was however mostly military, with over 200 medals to be presented.
“Colonel Nancy Crawford, Canadian Army Intelligence!”
Nancy nearly missed the call, still unaccustomed to be called by anything but her maiden name. Still limping a bit, she hurried to her assigned position in front of the King, who smiled and winked at her.
“All present will rise! Colonel Nancy Crawford, born Laplante, VC, CBE, DSO and Bar, DFC, MC, of the Canadian Army Intelligence, is to be awarded the Bar to the Victoria Cross for most conspicuous bravery in the presence of the enemy shown on May 14, 1941, when she led a bayonet charge in Hamburg, Germany. Wounded twice in the ensuing fight, she kept resisting against an enemy ten times more numerous until relieved by the rest of the raiding force. His Majesty King George the Sixth will now award Colonel Crawford the Bar to the Victoria Cross.”
Numerous camera flashbulbs exploded as the King pinned the small bronze bar to the deep red ribbon of her Victoria Cross, fixed to her chest along with her other medals. Nancy felt a rush of blood to her brain that nearly overtook her. Taking a deep breath, she was about to step back and salute to return to her seat when the King whispered to her, smiling.
‘’Wait, Brigadier Crawford! I am not finished with you yet.’’
Nancy could not hide her surprise then, as the master of ceremonial spoke again.
‘’His Majesty King George the Sixth will now promote in the name of the Canadian government Colonel Crawford to the rank of brigadier general, as an acknowledgement to her exceptional talents in the planification, coordination and execution of large scale special combined operations.’’
The King, helped by his equerry, changed the shoulder rank slip-ons on Nancy’s parade uniform before congratulating her and shaking her hand. After saluting the King, Nancy pivoted on her heels and returned to her seat, not believing yet her good luck. Once seated, she wiped the cold sweat on her forehead and forced herself into breathing more slowly.
Nancy was starting to feel better when a small, brief speck of light attracted her attention to what seemed to be some kind of fly floating in front and above her. Its movements were all wrong for an insect, however: it flew in slow, deliberate and level trajectory around her. Before she could see it better, it flew away and disappeared, leaving her puzzled. By then, the ceremony was at an end, with the King leaving the ballroom and with the audience getting ready to do the same. Mike Crawford, who had to stay in the back rows reserved for the non-recipients during the ceremony, then joined her and gave her a long kiss, making her forget about the strange insect.
10:03 (Universal Time)
Sunday, June 21, 3384
Zeta-Alpha Orbital City
Earth geo-synchronous orbit
Global Science Administrator Daran Mien showed a seat to Farah Tolkonen before sitting back behind his desk. He contemplated his top field researcher for a long moment.
“You look terrible, Farah. Is it because of your research down the alternate timeline?”
She nodded her head absently, as if still caught in some kind of nightmare.
“I knew from the few historical archives still available that our past was violent and barbaric, but nothing prepared me for the horrors I saw in the video recordings brought back by the automated probes. However, I can report to you that I found the cause of those timeline distortions shaking our space-time continuum.”
Daran Mien suddenly straightened up in his chair.
“Do you mind if I record your report, Farah?”
“Not at all. In fact, you would be negligent not to.”
Daran activated his office recording system, then turned back his attention to Farah, who inserted a data chip in the holodisplay system on Daran’s desk. The science administrator watched in fascination as a 3-D recording started playing, showing a crowd of strangely dressed people sitting in a large room. The picture quickly focused on a young woman with dense, long black hair on her head and a set of fascinating green eyes. Her hair made her most unusual for Daran, since all humans in the 34th century were naturally bald, but he had to concede that the young woman from the past was very attractive.
“So, she is the one responsible for the distortions in the space-time continuum? She doesn’t look like a criminal to me.”
Farah shook her head vehemently at Daran’s last remark.
“She is not a criminal, Daran. She is a victim of the irresponsible experiments of Pran Osef and Telvi Ran. These pictures were taken in the summer of the year 1941 of Timeline ‘B’, the alternate timeline created by Osef and Ran’s manipulations. The young woman we now see was abducted by those two scientists in the year 2012 of our own timeline, then dropped 72 years in her past, in the middle of a terrible war. I was able via a number of micro-probes to reconstruct what happened to her once she was marooned in the past. By the way, Pran Osef and Telvi Ran have already paid for their crimes: they were killed in a collision with a 1940-era aircraft just after dropping off this unfortunate woman and her vehicle.”
As she spoke, the recording showed to Daran the events in quick motion. The science administrator could not help feel sorry for the woman with the black hair.
“It must have been a traumatic experience for her. What is her name, by the way?”
“Nancy Laplante. She did go through some hard times but I have to admit that she adapted very well to the challenge. In fact, she did much better than you or me could have done if put in the same situation.”
“Oh! How come? We would have had a 1,400 years technological edge on those people, while she had only 72 years of hindsight.”
Farah smiled at Daran as if he was a student who had missed an important point during a class.
“Technological advance had little to do with her surviving her ordeal. Physically and mentally, this Nancy Laplante has a toughness that is just simply incredible. I myself would have been broken quickly by what she went through. Let me show you. A warning, though: these were times of war, so prepare yourself for some very gruesome pictures.”
Daran Mien watched with growing horror as Farah Tolkonen played the recordings of Nancy Laplante taken during her first mission in Gravelines and during her bayonet charge in Hamburg. When the recording stopped, Daran looked at Farah with reprobation.
“She is nothing more than a killing machine. You expect me to admire such a woman?”
Farah shook her head in disappointment at Daran’s reaction.
“Maybe I should have explained to you better the historical context she was in. The Twentieth Century was a most violent period of human history, with values and attitudes totally alien to us. Nancy Laplante was simply trying her best to shorten that war and limit the carnage.”
“By killing?” Asked Daran, dubious. Farah’s hot reply surprised him by its violence.
“Yes, by killing if necessary! As she said herself to someone, sometimes you have to kill to prevent more killings. We have not known war for centuries now and can count ourselves lucky for it. Preaching words of peace would have achieved nothing then and there, believe me.”
Daran was shaken by the conviction in her voice.
“So, what do you propose that we do with this Nancy Laplante?”
“As I said before, she is a victim of the experiments of two of our own people. We are thus responsible for what happened to her and must help repair the wrongs done to her. The best course would be to return her to her own time, with suitable reparations from us to compensate her for what she went through. However, there are a number of complicating factors at play here.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the fact that she fell madly in love and married a man from 1941 ‘B’. She also adopted a teenage girl orphaned by the war. I am not sure that she would agree to return to her own time and leave those two behind. Forcing her to return without them would be a very cruel act that I would never do or condone. On the other hand, if we do not extract her soon, she will die a most horrible an painful death.”
Without warning, Farah started again the holo projection. Daran Mien could only look for a few seconds before turning his head away from the screen and throwing up on the carpet of his office. A janitorial robot automatically appeared from its hidden cubicle to clean up the mess. Looking back at the holoscreen, Daran saw that Farah had frozen the picture of that awful scene on it. She looked at him with little sympathy in her eyes.
“Daran Mien, stop judging people from behind this safe desk of yours. We have a responsibility to save that young woman from a death she does not deserve, while at the same time leaving her with her beloved ones.”
“But, she cannot stay in that timeline. The distortions her presence there is causing could rip our world apart.”
“I agree on that point. However, I think that I found an acceptable solution to the problem. You must give me your approval before I can proceed, though.”
“Alright, what is your plan, then?” Said Daran, his eyes still fixed on the holoscreen.
16:20 (GMT)
Saturday, May 31, 1941 ‘B’
Gaoler’s House, Tower of London
London, England
‘’Good afternoon, ladies! I have the latest batch of letters from Berlin for you.’’
Captain Kenneth Dows, Assistant Attaché for the Marine Corps at the American embassy in London, was nearly immediately surrounded by excited German women in the great hall of Gaoler’s House. The letters and parcels he had brought from the American embassy were snatched in less than two minutes by the happy auxiliaries. Tomorrow afternoon, following a now well established routine, Ken would return to collect the response letters written by the auxiliaries, letters that would then be sent to Berlin via diplomatic mail. As he was about to leave, his hands now empty, Ken gave a discreet look at Ingrid Weiss, sitting at the big table of the hall and studying an algebra book. He had been attracted to the teenager since the first day he had seen her in January. That attraction had been physical at first but, as he learned to know her better, Ingrid’s personality had reinforced his interest in her. Ken knew her real age, but her astonishing maturity for a fifteen year-old girl had only made her more desirable. Seeing that she was also eyeing him discreetly, Ken approached the table and smiled to her.
‘’Can I sit near you for a moment, Ingrid?’’
‘’Of course, Captain!’’ Said Ingrid, her blue eyes shining as she looked at him with a smile. In truth, Kenneth Dows could have been used as a recruiting poster for the Marine Corps, being a 187 centimeter-tall handsome athlete. The 25 year-old officer had also proven to be a caring and open-minded man.
‘’So, how are your studies going, Ingrid?’’ Asked Ken, pointing the algebra book.
‘’Pretty well! My detention leaves me plenty of time to study and Nancy does not hesitate to help me when I have a problem understanding some concept. And you, Ken? How do you like your work at the embassy? Do you miss commanding Marines in the field?’’
‘’Actually, yes. However, I expect to be posted out of London in two months.’’
He didn’t miss the fleeting look of disappointment on her face.
‘’Oh! Do you know where you will be transferred?’’
‘’Not yet, but I am hoping for a posting somewhere in the Pacific.’’
‘’The Pacific…’’ Said Ingrid in a dreamy tone. ‘’I would love to see it, to be able to walk along its beaches and swim in the ocean.’’
What she didn’t say to Ken was that many of her past incarnations had been in the Pacific region, from Indochina to China, from Japan to the Philippines and Tahiti. Ken smiled at her declaration.
‘’Maybe, one day, you will be able to realize your dream and see the Pacific. If I am still around there then, I would be happy to greet you there.’’
Ingrid smiled to him again while putting one hand on top of his left hand.
‘’Really, Ken? I would love that very much.’’
Ken looked around him to make sure that nobody else was in the hall, then lowered his voice to a near whisper.
‘’Ingrid, when will you finally ask to be freed from this fortress, so that you could go to the United States? It pains me to see a girl like you being imprisoned like a vulgar criminal.’’
Ingrid lowered her head, thinking over her answer.
‘’It is not so simple, Ken. First, even if I hate the Nazi cause, I still hesitate to abandon my comrades, many of which are good friends. Secondly, I cannot risk exposing the fact that Mike and Nancy adopted me, something that could well have very negative consequences for Nancy if the British learn about my adoption by her.’’
Ken had to recognize that she had a point there. An idea then popped into his head.
‘’Eh, why not publicly renounce the Nazy cause, proclaim that you are a Jew and then ask for political asylum in the United States? Of course, my embassy would play along, while accepting you as a naturalized citizen. That way, Mike and Nancy would not be implicated directly and the British would have no reasons to suspect anything. I doubt that the British would be mean enough to insist interning you until the end of the war. Besides, once officially known as a Jew, the British would have no choice but to take you out of the Tower of London, to avoid reprisals against you by some of the auxiliaries held here.’’
Ingrid nodded her head, knowing what Ken was talking about. Erika Muller had been transferred out of the Tower of London shortly after her arrest on charges of war crimes. However, a small group of pro-Nazi auxiliaries led by Unterführerin Grete Meissner had become hostile to her for her admiration towards Nancy. Despite the friendship and protection of her other comrades, Ingrid didn’t feel completely safe here in Gaoler’s House, hearing too often the words ‘fraternization’ and ‘favoritism’ being whispered around her. Meissner even had suggested once that Ingrid was having a lesbian relationship with Nancy, an accusation fueled by the regular absences of Ingrid from the Tower of London, when Nancy came to run with her. Meissner would probably have been furious to learn the truth, which was that Ingrid was being educated in secret by Nancy. In truth, Ken’s plan made a lot of sense and had the big merit of not implicating directly Mike or Nancy. There was also the fact that Ken was a very handsome man that had attracted her for months now. Ingrid finally raised her head to look into Ken’s eyes.
‘’I like your plan, Ken. However, what would I do once in the United States? I know nobody there, don’t have any money and don’t know if anyone will offer me a job.’’
It was Ken’s turn to think for a moment. His parents were rigid Catholics, something that had in fact created a rift between him and them, as he was a non-practicing Catholic. Ken doubted that his parents would be thrilled to greet a Jewish girl. An idea then made him smile tenderly to Ingrid.
‘’Why not get married, Ingrid? You would make me very happy and I would then be able to help you adapt to life in the United States. I love you, Ingrid, and this since the first time I saw you. We could have a fantastic life together.’’
Ingrid’s hand on his hand tightened as she looked at him with emotion.
‘’Ken, that would be the best thing that could happen to me since Mike and Nancy adopted me. Any girl would dream of marrying a man like you and I would be happy to live with you. We should however talk to Nancy and Mike before marrying, to prevent possible problems with the British.’’
‘’That seems reasonable to me, Ingrid. I can wait a few more weeks if need be. I will go talk with Mike after this visit. Him or Nancy could then contact you later on to tell you how things are going.’’
They then exchanged a tender kiss, happy dreams dancing in their heads.
07:30 (GMT)
Friday, June 13, 1941 ‘B’
RAF Northolt, England
Cheers rang out of the small crowd waiting in front of a hangar at Northolt when a very distinctive shape became visible, low on the eastern horizon. Everybody soon could hear the sound of the tandem rotors as the heavy helicopter made its approach. Piloted with flair, it finally landed smoothly fifty yards away from the crowd. The aft cargo ramp immediately went down, revealing a double line of soldiers standing in the wide cargo hold. More cheers rang out when the soldiers walked down the ramp, pushing along five disgruntled German prisoners. General Joubert, Air Commodore Nicholls and Nancy met the soldiers halfway with vigorous handshakes and wide grins on their faces. In addition, Nancy planted kisses on the cheeks of beaming George Townsend and Reginald Jones.
“How did it go, guys?” She asked to Townsend, who had been the mission commander. He took the time to take off his heavy assault helmet and wipe some sweat from his forehead before answering.
“It went even better than expected: surprise was total and the German defenses were next to nil. We were able to seize and then dismantle the German radar main components with no losses or damage to the helicopter. We also took prisoner five German radar technicians, including a new inmate for the Tower of London.”
Nancy looked briefly at the young German Luftwaffe auxiliary being escorted away by two RAF female guards, then looked at Reginald Jones, who was wearing a battledress now stained with grease spots. A belt at his waist supported both a holstered revolver and a tool pouch.
“So, Reginald, what do you think of present German radar technology?”
“Oh, a year ago I would have been impressed by it. Now, they are the ones looking backward, thanks to you, Nancy. Still, it will give us some precious information on how to better jam them. Overall, I would say that it was a most exciting and rewarding mission.”
“You know,” confessed Nancy, “I now realize what you guys felt while I was gone on a mission: another hour and I would have had no fingernails left.”
“Ah, sweet revenge!” Exclaimed Reginald. He then patted Nancy’s left upper leg. “Keep limping for a few more weeks, pretty little leg.”
“That pretty little leg is going to boot your ass if you pat it again in public, Doc.”
Doug Wilson joined them at that moment, his flying helmet still on and with Nancy’s night scope fixed to the specially designed helmet swivel mount. He was given two kisses by a clearly proud Nancy.
“For a grounded fighter pilot, you seem to have a knack for flying helicopters, Doug.”
“Tell me about it.” Protested George Townsend. “He nearly made us all puke by the way he hugged the ground in total darkness.”
“Hey, you prefer that I fly a nice, soft approach so that the Germans can pepper us at will? Nancy, I will never be able to thank you enough for giving me a chance to fly again. I feel like I was reborn.”
“Doug, seeing you happy like this is the best reward I could ask for.”
Nancy then pointed at the Avro VULTURE, its shape made even more intimidating by the machinegun turret in its nose.
“How did our baby perform?”
“Superbly! She is as agile as a cat and I was able to hit 150 knots of airspeed on my dash back to here. My strong recommendation will be to go to series production right away.”
“You can count on my backing about that, Flight Lieutenant.”
They both turned and saluted General Joubert, who saluted them back, then examined the helicopter with sparkles in his eyes.
“This machine has so much potential for so many useful roles that I can’t start to list them all. It should make as nasty an impression on the Germans as your hovercraft did, Brigadier Laplante, er, sorry, Brigadier Crawford.”
“No harm done, General: in 2012, women use their maiden names on all official forms and papers. As for the roles this helicopter could fill, you have the choice of shipborne anti-submarine aircraft, ship-to-ship resupply at sea, search and rescue, artillery spotting, ground support aircraft…”
“Stop!” Exclaimed Doug Wilson. “You will make me stain my pants at that rate.”
Nancy took a step back, mock disgust on her face.
“You would prefer six tons of aluminum and steel over 135 pounds of female flesh? You’re one sick puppy, Doug.”
They were all still laughing when Sergeant Latham came to them at a run and slid to a halt, saluting General Joubert as he tried to catch his breath back.
“Sir! The radio just announced that the Germans have started invading the Soviet Union.”
“Here goes my medical leave!” Said Nancy, rolling her eyes skywards.
15:24 (GMT)
Gaoler’s House, Tower of London
London, England
Oberhelferin Eva Dittmar looked in disbelief at her room, obviously expecting something much worse. Her roommate, a petite blonde with blue eyes, showed her a newly installed metallic frame bed that sharply contrasted with the antique wood frame bed besides it.
“I’m sorry that you don’t have more space than this, but we are starting to run out of it here. Still, it’s better than the medieval cells in Beauchamp Tower. By the way, I’m Oberhelferin Katharina Fischer, from the liaison office at the Bremen Focke-Wulf factory.”
“Oberhelferin Eva Dittmar, from radar station number 16, near Antwerp.”
They shook hands, then sat besides each other on Eva’s bed.
“A radar station? How did the British capture you?” Asked a curious Katharina Fischer, a.k.a. Hanna Reitsch. Eva shook her head, seemingly still overtaken by the events of the day.
“They came in a very strange aircraft, one with two large propellers pointed skyward and which could land vertically…”
“The British have helicopters?” Exclaimed in alarm the test pilot. She bit her lips but Eva was already looking at her with curiosity.
“You know about those things?”
“Er, Focke-Wulf did produce a few helicopters. Can you describe to me the helicopter you saw?”
“Sure! I did spend nearly two hours in the damn thing after all. It had two propellers, one above the cockpit and the other above the tail, with four blades per propellers. The fuselage was big and roomy, with a cargo hold big enough for a large car or a light truck. There were actually over twenty British soldiers on board that thing. It had a ramp at the rear to help unloading and there was even a machine gun turret in the nose.”
Hanna gulped hard: that British helicopter was way ahead of anything she knew. It probably was another design imported from the future by Nancy Laplante.
“How fast was it? Could you tell?”
“It easily approached 300 kilometers per hour. It was also incredibly agile. We do have something comparable, do we?”
“Er, yes, of course!” Lied a suddenly downcast Hanna Reitsch.
17:59 (GMT)
Apartment 11
24 St James’ Place, London
A tired Nancy was about to unlock the door of her apartment when she heard at least two men whisper inside. Immediately moving to one side of the door so that somebody shooting through it would not hit her, she drew her Glock 17 pistol and cautiously unlocked her door, then shoved it open and jumped inside, pistol pointed. The group of men and women in the lounge either dived for cover or froze on the spot under Nancy’s bemused eyes. As she was slowly lowering her gun and looking at the plates and glasses lying around on the furniture, Mike Crawford’s head cautiously appeared from behind a sofa.
“Er, happy birthday, Nancy!”