by Jaxon Reed
“I came soon as I heard. Everybody okay? How are you, Darius?”
“I’ve been better. Ms. Chance here saved the day.”
Nancy said, “Your training dummy provided a distraction while I brought the roof down.”
Jason smiled and said, “I wasn’t thinking of a surprise fae attack when I used iron girders for the ceiling. But it seems a fortuitous choice.”
“No jokes about my name,” Nancy said. “I’ve heard them all over the years.”
Booker seemed to doze off, his head slumping on his chest, attracting everyone’s attention. Tiff gently shook his shoulder and urged him to finish the tea.
The Walker turned back to Nancy and said, “Why don’t we leave Darius to recuperate on his own. I’d like to discuss a couple of things with you.”
Nancy stood, said goodbye to Tiff and Booker, then followed Jason and Cait out the door.
In the flagstone hallway outside, Jason said, “I never thought I’d need offsite backup. I mean, this is the ultimate offsite as it is. Anyway, Cait is rebuilding Eb. I’m not sure we’ll recover everything he knew, but he was mainly an archival system anyway. And the archives, despite some physical destruction, are mostly intact. So, hopefully we won’t lose too much data out of all this.”
Nancy crossed her arms and said. “Why are we keeping all that gold stuff of theirs anyway? Seems like a giant waste of space, not to mention a temptation for them to come after it.”
“As you know,” Jason said, “We can’t destroy or create matter. Only God can do that. All we can do is manipulate it. And gold, once it’s been touched by fae, becomes practically irredeemable. Especially some of the older stuff made when they were at the height of their powers on the early alternates. So, it seemed prudent to simply remove them from reality and store them here.”
Nancy said, “Okay. That makes sense. But I hate that our sense of security has been shattered, Jason. I’ve been here over 300 years, and I’ve always felt safe. Until now.”
He nodded sympathetically and said, “We’re working on that. Now that we know it’s possible for them to find us, we’re considering appropriate countermeasures. Cait thinks it’s a good idea to begin storing their artifacts elsewhere, for instance. And perhaps making some contingency plans.”
They both turned to the drab young woman. The Computerized Artificial Intelligence Terminal said, “I can elaborate on the probabilities showing the benefits of moving the library artifacts, if you like.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Jason said. Turning back to Nancy he said, “As you can imagine, they will likely find another way in no matter what we do. But if we separate the library, they could attack us while we’re visiting it in the new location, too.”
Nancy’s eyebrows shot up. She said, “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“And I’m sure there’s other things some fae eventually will think of someday, now that they know how to get here. We’ve just got to press on and kill them all. The fewer out there in the alternates, the fewer left to try and mount an attack on us.”
“I’m all for continuing the mission.”
“Another mission is what I’d like to talk to you about. Right now, everybody is indisposed. I had to drop my current assignment to get back here. Tiff and Darius are going to be staying put until he’s back on his feet. And nobody else is available right now.
“I know you just got back yourself, and it’s always good to decompress after taking a fae out, or in this case two fae. But, I need somebody to go back into a particular alternate and work on something important that Cait was tracking just before this incident.”
“Sure. Tell me where to go, and I’ll take care of it.”
“Well, here’s the thing. It involves your home alternate.”
Nancy arched an eyebrow.
Jason said, “And, it involves the same time, the same dates, around which you were murdered.”
Nancy arched her other eyebrow. She said, “I thought one of the cardinal rules is that we are supposed to never return to our own timelines.”
“That’s right. I don’t even like you going back to nearby alternates, if you can help it. The chances of interfering in your own life and those of your loved ones, or in the case of a close alternate the lives of your doppelganger’s, are too great.
“However, we have a situation here and I think you are best suited for tackling the problem. Frankly, you’re the only solution at the moment. Cait will fill you in. I’ve got to get back to work.”
Cait spoke without emotional inflection as she and Nancy walked briskly toward the foyer, which served as the entryway between the outer rooms and the rest of Headquarters.
She said, “In most alternates you have worked in so far, the overall course of history remained somewhat the same. Inventions and innovations came along about the same time. Major wars were won and lost by the same sides. Deviations may increase as timelines progress, and there are exceptions to everything, but general historical trends tend to hold steady.
“I have recently noticed an uptick in efforts to alter the history of certain alternates in major ways. These are outside efforts to buck the trends. One of these involves changing the outcome of World War II so that the Axis wins. It is a key turning point in many alternates’ histories. Changing it has maximum consequences.”
“That’s terrible, Cait! The Nazis and Imperial Japan were awful regimes. And this is happening on my world?”
“Correct. In a sense, it already happened in your world. The same fae who killed you is also responsible for attempting to sabotage the Manhattan Project so the Germans can be the first to develop an atomic bomb on your world.”
Nancy stopped and said, “I’m confused. I was killed 300 years ago, and we won World War II.”
“As you know, we are outside of time and space. There are many fae-spawned irregularities across multiple alternates requiring our attention at any given moment. The one on your home world is now at the top of our priority list. Yes, you have already been killed. But now, you need to go back and prevent your timeline from deviating.”
“So what am I to do?”
“One of the advantages to existence outside of time and space is, we can address problems at any point in any timeline. From a biological perspective, you passed away 322 years, three months, and 19 days ago. Shortly after, you were resurrected and you have been with us ever since. However, we can send you back to New York City, October 17, 1943 on Alternate 2108a, and you can intercept the fae and his efforts to change history on your world before it happens.
“And that is your assignment. We are sending you back to the moment you were murdered. Your job will be to stop your murderer from altering the course of history on your home world, and to make sure the Allies win World War II like they are supposed to.”
They walked to the rowan wood door leading to the Wildflower Room.
Nancy said, “Okay, not a problem. I’m in like Flynn. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back home. I’m looking forward to it.”
“That is to be expected. However, I want to caution you in regards to your conduct. Everyone you know will think of you as dead. If you show back up and begin interacting with them once more, they will almost certainly become confused as to your status in their lives.”
“You’re saying they might think I’ve been resurrected. Well, that’s true. I was resurrected over three centuries ago.”
“It will be difficult to explain this fact to them in a way they can understand. Worse, they will expect you to remain in their lives, and you cannot. You have already moved on, but they have yet to live out their own lives. And they are fated to do so without you. In a way, they already have.”
Nancy nodded, thoughtfully. She said, “You’re right. I couldn’t stay, anyway. I won’t age while they grow old. Okay, I’ll come straight back once the job is done.”
Nancy thought about it some more and said, “Wait a minute. How am I supposed to investigate my own murder withou
t talking to anyone I know? Should I take on a disguise or something?”
“My current calculations indicate a low probability of a disguise being needed if you simply take care not to interact with people you know.”
“Well, that shouldn’t be a problem. My parents passed before I did. My best friend moved to San Jose to help build ships during the war. I hardly knew anyone in New York during that time, except Rick, and he was in Texas when I died. Just about the only person I dealt with on a regular basis was Marcie, my secretary.”
Cait said, “Should intervention with someone be necessary, I can wipe the memory of your interactions with them. But be careful, as needless involvement increases the risk of undesired consequences.”
“You’re saying, ‘Don’t tempt fate.’ Okay, I’ll be careful.”
“Very good. Shall I attire you appropriately?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this. It’s my decade, you know? I had a closet full of the latest styles, such as they were, during the war.”
Nancy waved her hand from her face to her stomach, and with the advanced technology available to the Fae Killers, her clothes instantly changed from a black leather outfit to a stylish blue winter dress popular in New York during the early 1940s.
Cait nodded perfunctorily, neither taking offense nor delight. She turned and walked back toward her computer terminal in the foyer.
Nancy opened the door to the Wildflower Room and walked into a field of wisteria. She wandered down a footpath between large clusters of the sweet purple flowers, topped a small hill then came down on the other side.
Most recently, she thought, the field held bluebonnets. She knew the flowers changed depending on the group of alternates with which they were currently aligned. The Walker had explained to her long ago that each field was from a time captured in proximity to different clusters of alternates. So, bluebonnets were easier to port back and forth between one group of parallel universes; wisteria another. She had seen fields of sunflowers, tulips, and dozens of other varieties. Some of the flowers were garden variety, despite the room’s name.
Her alternate fell into the wisteria group. With their scent, pangs of nostalgia sprang up within her. Despite bleak necessity forcing her there, she felt happy to be going home again.
At the end of the path, a bright neon blue and green line appeared, shimmering vertically. It quickly grew wider, and Nancy could see a darkened hallway on the other side. She heard gunshots.
She said to herself, “New York, October 17, 1943, here I come.”
She stepped through, and the Wildflower Room closed behind her.
Chapter 2
Nancy heard a door close around a bend in the hallway. Cautiously, she peeked around the corner just in time to see a man walk in the other direction toward a stairwell.
“That’s my killer. Track him, Cait.”
“I am on it.”
Their exchange took place completely in Nancy’s mind, the neural interface with Cait stretching across time and space.
When the door to the stairwell closed, Nancy cautiously stepped around the corner and walked down to her old office. She opened the door and quickly slipped inside, making her way past the reception area to the back.
Her old self lay slumped on the floor, blood pooling around the body.
She approached it slowly, looking down at her bullet-riddled head.
Nancy grimaced and said, “It’s a good thing our resurrected bodies look younger. I was getting a bit long in the tooth there toward the end.”
Cait said, “You were 38 years old.”
“I never realized how fat I was, either.”
“You weighed 148 pounds, in line with your height and age.”
“Never mind, Cait. Remind me to program girl talk into you someday.”
Nancy gingerly stepped over her body and looked at the front of the file drawer in her desk.
“He closed it after taking the Duncan file. I’m going to open it again. Won’t hurt to leave a clue.”
She opened the drawer, then had another thought.
“Cait, can you scan all my files? Upload them to your system?”
“Yes. My sensors are quite strong in this alternate’s New York City.”
“Good. Please do so.”
Nancy looked around the small office again with a fresh pang of nostalgia. It felt smaller than she remembered. But it had served its purpose well in her final years while she worked as a private investigator during the war.
She sighed deeply, soaking it all in one last time.
Cait said, “Police are incoming. Someone called in the shots.”
“Right. Are they taking the elevator or the stairs?”
“Elevator.”
Nancy stepped over her old body again and headed out the door. She left the door open.
“I’ll make it easy for them to figure out where to go. It’ll be the only open door up here.”
She hurried down the hall and went into the stairwell just as the elevator dinged.
Nancy took the steps quickly, heading down.
“Do you know where my killer is, Cait?”
“Yes. Currently he is in a cab. He asked the driver to go to Central Park.”
Nancy stopped between landings. She listened carefully and looked up and down between the floors. The stairwell was deserted.
“Good. Can you open a door near to where he’ll arrive?”
“Yes.”
A shimmering neon green and blue line appeared in the air, growing taller, then wider. She could see foliage and smell fresh open air from the other side.
Stepping through, Nancy found herself in the park, in the middle of a clump of woods. Cait had found a place where nobody could see her appear suddenly. She stood surrounded by darkness and trees.
Nancy waved a hand over herself and became invisible before leaving the cover. She stepped carefully out from the copse and onto a path leading deeper into the park.
On the street, a taxi squealed to a stop and her murderer stepped out.
Another man sat on a park bench nearby, his overcoat pulled tightly around him. He looked older, with tufts of gray hair peeking out from under a fedora. He seemed to be waiting for someone, and followed Nancy’s killer with his eyes.
She stood nearby, patient and invisible. The murderer headed straight to the park bench and sat down next to the man with gray hair.
The older man said, “It is done, Felix?”
Felix, Nancy realized, was the name of the fae who had killed her. Or at least, the name he used on this alternate. How appropriate, she thought, since he looked so much like a cat.
Felix nodded and said, “I have the file you wanted, and the broad won’t be a problem anymore.”
He reached inside his coat and pulled out a manila folder with some typewritten sheets of paper. Nancy recognized the Duncan file.
The older man thumbed through the pages, scanning them briefly. He opened his overcoat and tucked them inside.
He stood up, and Felix followed suit. The older man smiled and pulled out a thick roll of bills from another pocket. He handed the money to Felix.
Felix took the cash and it disappeared somewhere in his coat. He said, “You know, I would have done this without being paid. I’d like to make sure the Reich has a shot at winning this thing.”
The older man smiled and said, “Sehr gut.”
They parted ways. The man with gray hair headed back out to the street while Felix walked deeper into the park toward Nancy.
Nancy said over her neural interface, “Track the Nazi, Cait. Do we know who he is?”
“Yes, Heinrich Kurtz. He is a spy, working for German Naval Intelligence. He has managed to stay in this country under deep cover since 1936.”
“Try to figure out his contacts and track him. We’ll need to take him out of the picture. See if anybody in the FBI is even aware of the guy.”
“Affirmative.”
While the mental exchange took place, Felix walk
ed past her location. He stopped suddenly, turned and looked directly toward Nancy.
He waved his hand and a flash of light crackled through the air. Nancy suddenly became visible.
Felix’s eyes grew bigger as he recognized the face of the woman he just killed. Then his expression relaxed as he figured out what must have happened.
“So. You have resurrected, and you’re here to avenge your death.”
Nancy said, “Something like that.”
She pulled out her iron rod and it instantly grew by several feet. She pointed it at Felix and four spikes broke off from the end, shooting out toward him.
Felix disappeared with a pop! and the pieces sailed through the air harmlessly.
He reappeared behind Nancy and shot out bolts of light. She ducked and rolled as one grazed her shoulder, instantly disintegrating the sleeve of her blouse and the top layer of her skin.
The spikes turned back toward Felix, streaking in like bullets. He popped away again and reappeared to the right, shooting more light bolts. Then another Felix peeled away from his body, an exact replica. Working in unison, both Felixes shot bolts at her.
Nancy rolled on the ground, blood smearing the grass and leaves. She threw the shortened rod at them, and gave it a mental command. It split into two, each piece aiming for a different Felix.
The one on the right, the original Felix, popped away before the iron reached him, but his double did not. It exploded in a puff of black oily smoke. All of Nancy’s rod pieces rushed back and flew a tight circle around her, forming a protective barrier.
When Felix reappeared he only got one light bolt off before the two closest spikes rushed toward him. Nancy moved before his bolt could hit her.
When he popped in again, one of the iron pieces nicked him before he could get off a shot. A streak of clear oily blood squirted out of his thigh, hissing to the ground.
“Bitch!”
He popped away again before another spike could find him. They continued floating around her in a protective circle, ready to dart at the fae wherever he appeared.