Time Travel Omnibus, page 918
She grimaced. “Very clever, in more ways than one. If Germany hadn’t lost the First World War, then the Nazis wouldn’t have come to power. Our opponents had to take out London early enough before World War One to ensure the Empire would commit to the rebuilding, but not too early to allow the Empire to recover from the double blow before 1939. I never thought I’d describe destroying a major city as a surgical intervention, but they did it.” My fellow T.I. (for that was what I was sure she was by now) reached for my beer, pulled it toward her and took a drink. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Am I still covered?”
“Of course.”
“Then be my guest.” She flashed a grin that quickly faded as I asked a question. “What exactly happens tomorrow?”
She took another drink and made a face I knew had nothing to do with the taste of the beer. “You tell me. I saw the object flaring across the sky, then the flash of detonation.”
I checked with Jeannie again. “Best estimates are that an object entered earth’s atmosphere and detonated over London. The city was totally destroyed by an explosion of at least ten megatons equivalent.” I glanced at my companion. “So what really destroyed the city?”
“A meteor.”
“That’s what my history says—”
“That’s what happened. My assistant picked up enough information from the object’s entry to confirm it as an asteroid.”
I sat digesting that for a moment. “Do you have any idea how they managed to use a meteor as an intervention?”
“There’s only one way they could’ve. They jumped a spacecraft through and shoved the rock this way.”
“A spacecraft? In a jump?” My expression must have revealed what I was thinking. The cost and energy requirements for jumps go up exponentially as mass increases.
“I know it’s hard to believe. Whoever did this must have expended a large world’s gross planetary product’s worth of wealth on the project.” She finally relaxed completely and took her hand out of her purse. “I’m Pam.”
“Tom. You’re also a T.I.?”
“That’s right.”
“And you really haven’t met psycho-blonde yet?”
“No.” Pam’s eyes went distant for a moment in the way they do when someone’s thinking deeply. “She’s blonde, you say. Tall.”
“Yes.”
“Blue eyes?”
I hesitated, but Jeannie had automatically saved a file on my brief looks at psycho-blonde. “Yes.”
“She’s someone’s idea of the perfect Aryan killer, I guess. Just the sort of thing a hundred-and-fifty-year-old Reich would produce.”
“Kampf looked nothing like that,” I objected.
“No? And this, uh, psycho-blonde was apparently waiting in Kampf’s apartment when you got there?”
“Yes, I . . . hell. How stupid can I be? I’d waylaid Kampf, someone in the intervention-created future realized it in time to do something, and they sent her to stop me from getting to him.”
Pam nodded and drank again. “Countering your attempt to counter them. Wheels within wheels. But being a blood thirsty assassin, she bungled her rescue of Kampf in her eagerness to kill you.”
We fell silent for a while. I ordered another beer, since Pam didn’t show any signs of returning what was left of my first, and wondered what about this whole picture was bothering me. “Why does it matter?” I finally asked her.
She looked astonished. “Are you serious? Why does the destruction of Here-and-Now London and a Nazi victory—”
“No, no, no. Not that. That matters. What I mean is, if someone shoved a rock at London from out in space, why does it matter if I got Kampf? Or anyone else? How can we stop a rock? Spacecraft are hideously expensive to jump, but imagine trying to jump downtime a Space Object Destruction or Diversion System. If we can’t get a SODDS, why does Kampf matter, and if we can get a SODDS, why do we need Kampf enough for them to worry about it?”
Pam frowned thoughtfully. “Very good question.” Her expression shifted. “And why is Kampf even Here and Now for that matter?”
“Was Here and Now.”
“Was Here and Now. He must have had some role in what happens tomorrow.”
When in doubt, bounce information off your assistant. Jeannie pondered the question briefly before replying. I stared at Pam as I relayed the answer. “Terminal guidance. A rock hurled at the planet wouldn’t be that accurate a weapon. They need to hit London square on. The only way to ensure that is to have a maneuvering system on the rock so they can bring it down at the right place. Kampf must have been involved with that.”
“But how does the rock know where its target is? They didn’t jump through constellations of navigational satellites. Even aside from the cost, there’d be too big a chance of them being spotted by Here and Now astronomy, or their signals being inadvertently interfered with by primitive electronic experiments—”
“Then they need a surface locator or homing beacon . . .” Here and Now astronomy. Of course. I laughed, earning a questioning look from Pam as I reached into my pocket. “Kampf had this,” I told her, holding out the train ticket.
“Greenwich?”
“The Royal Observatory. High ground, near London.”
“Yes! The perfect site! They must’ve installed something there already. Maybe Kampf was just hanging around in case it malfunctioned and needed repairs.”
I grinned. “I think we can arrange for a serious malfunction beyond the possibility of repair. Interested?”
“Absolutely. Want to take a train ride?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
It took us a while to reach Victoria Station, then we had a wait for the next train to Greenwich, and then we had the journey itself. The day was drawing to a close, and another day wouldn’t dawn over London unless we found what we hoped for at Greenwich. At some point, I realized that even if we diverted the rock, we’d still have a very dangerous object heading for someplace on Earth with potentially horrible consequences. I couldn’t think of any consequences worse than a century and a half of Nazi rule over Europe and a good chunk of Russia, but I wasn’t happy thinking of the people who might catch that rock instead.
Everything considered, I enjoyed the ride. Pam had an easy smile and a good face. It’s usually impossible for me or other T.I.’s to get emotionally involved with locals in downtime because there’s no way to shake the knowledge that those people have all been dead since before you were born. They’re alive, walking and talking and feeling, but it seems like stepping into an old movie where the characters are playing parts you learned about in ancient history lessons. Pam being from uptime, like me, made it possible to connect with her. Pam being Pam made it easy to connect with her.
But all good things come to an end.
The walk from the platform where the train dropped us to the observatory wasn’t too far. It’d gotten very late and plenty dark, however.
A long grassy slope led upward toward the observatory. Aside from a few trees dotting the landscape, it was all distressingly open. We began sauntering up the path, trying to look casual, unconcerned and inconspicuous.
It didn’t work. Either psycho-blonde recognized my clothing or she was in a kill-just-in-case mode. I noticed something move against an opening near the top of the observatory and shoved Pam to one side moments before a shot dug a very large divot out of the grass.
We scrambled to one of the trees, which fortunately wasn’t too far away and had a trunk big enough to hide behind as long as Pam and I huddled real close together. Under other circumstances, I would’ve really enjoyed that, but occasional shots blew chunks out of the tree trunk and kept my mind on business.
“Now what?” I asked Pam.
She grimaced. “There’s only one option. One of us has to jump downtime far enough to try to get into the observatory before your blonde girlfriend gets to it.”
“Please don’t call her that. And I had trouble getting into this Here and Now, by the way.”
“Nice time to mention it.” Pam fell silent, communing with her assistant, then frowned at me. “My assistant can’t set up a jump within weeks of this date. The period’s blocked.”
“I came in on a narrow window on the 28th.”
“It’s not there anymore. Nothing within four months.”
“How are they blocking jumps?” We both knew it could be done. No one could jump uptime past a certain year because whoever lived Then had set up barriers to jumps for reasons that remained unknown. But no one downtime of that was supposed to have such capability.
Pam shook her head angrily. “I’d guess one of the results of this intervention was the discovery of a means to block jumps farther downtime of when it should’ve happened. They must’ve opened that window to jump one of their own people in. Maybe Kampf. You just got lucky and saw it during that brief gap.”
I winced as another shot sent wood splinters flying. “How much ammo does that homicidal maniac have?”
“Too much. Do you think we have a chance if we split up and try to rush from two different directions?”
I looked around, judging the terrain and what I knew of psycho-blonde’s accuracy, then shook my head. “She’d nail us for sure. We’d be out in the open too long.”
Pam looked unhappy, but nodded. “I have to agree. There’s no sense getting ourselves killed without a reasonable chance of success. Too bad we can’t call on reinforcements.”
“You, there!” Pam and I looked at each other, wondering who’d spoken. “What’s all this?”
I rolled slightly and bent my head to see ten men in uniform standing a ways downslope on the walkway. They looked magnificent in what must have been full dress or mess dress, their insignia and medals flashing even in the dim illumination of the night. British military officers, obviously, probably returning late from the sort of social function which made up a large part of Victorian and Edwardian military life. Just what we needed to balance the odds. “There’s a foreign agent in the observatory! Here to kill the . . .” Exactly when had Victoria died?
“King,” Pam whispered.
“. . . King!”
A shocked pause followed, then rasps of metal and more glints of moonlight revealed the Brits were drawing the swords hanging at their sides, swords I’d automatically and incorrectly assumed to be simply ceremonial. “Unthinkable,” the most heavily bemedalled officer stated. “We shall put a stop to this.”
“Good. If we split up and work our way around—”
The apparent commander raised his sword. “Forward, men.”
Pam and I stared at each other. “Wait,” I yelled. “The agent has a gun!”
The Brits didn’t hesitate. They stepped out, walking upslope at a brisk pace, their swords held at ready, the senior officer slightly in the lead and the others in line abreast behind him. It made for a glorious sight, if you happen to think that watching brave people do stupid things is glorious.
“What are they doing?” Pam demanded, both her face and her voice revealing her disbelief.
I shook my head, feeling sick inside. As I noted earlier, part of a T.I. knows the people he or she is seeing died a long time ago. Maybe so long ago that even memory of what they believed worth dying for had gone to dust along with their bodies. But another part of a T.I. sees living humans who aren’t fundamentally different from those of us uptime from them and hates to actually see them die in the Here and Now. “World War One hasn’t happened, yet. They still think war’s a grand and glorious game. They haven’t seen tens of thousands die on barbed wire while struggling through Belgian mud, or watched battlecruisers exploding, or seen poison gas drifting across the landscape.”
“Fools. They’re throwing away our only chance to get to that building.”
“No, they’re not. They’re providing a diversion and absorbing shots that psycho-blonde could be aiming at us. Come on. Let’s take advantage of it.”
As Pam and I raced up the slope at an angle, shots started booming from the observatory and gaps began appearing in the ranks of the soldiers. The officers didn’t hesitate as their companions fell, stubbornly, valiantly, and brainlessly continuing their attack. I was off to one side and just coming even with the forwardmost Brit, the most senior of the officers, still plodding forward with head held high, when his forward progress jerked to an abrupt halt as a large hole appeared in his chest. The officer, his face seeming to reflect just a small degree of surprise and puzzlement, toppled backward slowly, his body hitting the grass and rolling a few times down the slope.
And I was still too far from the building.
I dodged and ran and heard the boom of a shot and prayed. Then I realized the shot I’d heard had come from the side, not ahead, and that Pam had snapped off a round to keep psycho-blonde’s head down so she couldn’t nail me. I was rapidly falling in love with Pam. I gained the side of the observatory building just as psycho-blonde’s next shot cracked by perilously close behind me.
Pam was a few meters down, flattened like me against the side of the building, and like me gasping for breath after our dash. I eased her way as Pam checked her weapon with a grim expression, then looked at me. “You do realize that if she’d taken time to shoot us first, she could’ve still nailed all those Brits before their frontal attack reached her.”
“Yes. I hoped she wouldn’t be able to resist going first for the easy targets and sure kills. It seemed to match what I knew of her.”
“The more I learn about her the more I can’t wait to meet this woman.”
“I can wait. She’s really dangerous, Pam.”
“So am I when I want to be.” Pam held her weapon ready as she eased inside. No shots went off, so I followed. We crept through the dimly lit rooms, heading for stairs leading up.
It was night and this was an observatory, but there seemed to be a disturbing lack of astronomers. Then we spotted the first body.
Pam covered me while I crouched down to check. “He’s not dead.”
“He’s not?” Pam seemed to be as surprised as I was.
“No. It seems like some sort of heavy sedation. I don’t see any signs of a struggle, though.”
Pam nodded. “An area-incapacitating weapon. Gas, or maybe a short-ranged neural suppressor. Something to get these people out of the way for a few hours without raising any alarm outside or creating too many risks for that blonde to be able to operate here right afterwards.”
That made sense, though I could imagine psycho-blonde had been disappointed at not being able to engage in mass murder. “I guess once she spotted us, she stopped worrying about keeping things quiet.”
We reached the stairs and stopped. Pam waved me forward again while she kept her weapon at ready. I knelt near the stairs, wondering if Pam’s reflexes were faster than psycho-blonde’s. “Jeannie, can you detect anything here?”
“There is a sensor of some sort placed nearby. It appears to be focused on the first few stairs.”
I informed Pam, who nodded. “My assistant says she can jam the sensor for about four seconds. Do you think you can cover those stairs that fast without making a lot of noise?”
“I can try.”
We both made it without setting off the alarm, and then we crept upward as silently as possible. We made our way past some more sleeping astronomers, assistants, and others who’d been unfortunate enough to be in the observatory tonight.
The door into the big domed area holding the telescope was closed and locked. I pantomimed slapping my head in exasperation and Pam grinned tensely. Then she brought out a small gadget and rested it against the lock. After a moment I heard a very faint click. Pam winced at the tiny noise, and then pocketed the device. She held her weapon up, gesturing me to the right. I nodded.
Pam’s hand on the doorknob moved smoothly and quickly, then she was pushing the door open and dodging inside and to the left. I was right behind her, catching only a quick impression of the big telescope and the Victorian-vintage architecture around it as I searched for danger.
And there she was, her blonde hair standing out like a beacon in the dim light. The barrel of her gun was already swinging my way. A big piece of girder nearby rang with the impact of a shot aimed at me as I dove for cover. Pam hit the deck, too, as psycho-blonde snapped a second shot her way. I couldn’t see Pam where she’d dropped, and hoped she hadn’t been hit.
This was bad. Very bad. Even if Pam was still in good shape, the best we could do was to try rushing psycho-blonde and hope she only dropped one of us before the other one reached her. Given what I’d seen of psycho-blonde’s aim and reflexes, I wasn’t at all sure even one of us would make it. “Jeannie, can you contact Pam’s assistant?”
“Yes.”
“Is Pam okay?”
“Pam is uninjured except for a bruise developing on her—”
“Does she have any ideas?”
There was a brief pause before Jeannie answered this time. “She wants you to distract your opponent for a few seconds.”
“Does she have any helpful suggestions for how I should do that?”
Another pause as Jeannie relayed the question and response. “She suggests you give your opponent something to shoot at.”
“Great suggestion.” I didn’t have any personal appendages to spare, nor did I see any lifelike mannequins lying nearby. I had one tranquilizer-crystal shooter imbedded in my right forefinger, but that was a point-blank weapon with little accuracy beyond a meter or so. Even if I fired my single crystal, it’d only distract psycho-blonde for a second. I shifted position slightly, wincing as psycho-blonde snapped off a shot toward the sound I made and then wincing again as a new blister rubbed against the heavy, uncomfortable shoe on my left foot.
Maybe I did have some more weapons handy. I reached back cautiously, working both shoes loose, then braced myself, one shoe in each hand. “Jeannie, tell Pam I’m preparing the diversion.”
“She is awaiting your action.”
“Pass her this countdown. Three, two, one, now!”
I rose up at a slight angle to hopefully complicate psycho-blonde’s aim and hurled one shoe without bothering to aim. The big object flying her way must have worried her—for all she knew it contained a grenade—because she caught it with a direct hit that blew leather in all directions. The second shoe, better aimed, met a similar fate well short of psycho-blonde, then I started to bring my forefinger to bear, realizing as I did so that she was going to be able to hit me with a third shot before I could duck back down.
