by Simon Hawke
"Now what would have been the point in that?" said Mongoose. "If he hadn't been a suicidal fool, I'd have placed him under arrest and clocked him out and he'd still be alive."
"You mean he'd be alive to be interrogated for the purpose of tracking down as many members of the underground as he kept in touch with," Lucas said.
"You surprise me, Priest. I wouldn't have thought that you had any sympathy for deserters. Besides, that would be none of my concern. It would've had nothing to do with the job at hand. Thanks to Bennett, it's almost over now. There's only one thing left for you to do."
"Let me guess," said Finn. "You want us to go along to London with the musketeers, just to make sure everything runs smoothly."
"That shouldn't be too hard," said Mongoose. "I'll have things covered from both ends. I've got my people in position both here and in London and you'll be covered from the air en route."
"From the air!" said Finn.
"That's right. I'll have two agents equipped with Airborne issue floater paks doing recon for you."
"That should work just fine so long as nobody looks up," said Finn.
"The risk is negligible. Suppose one of the musketeers does spot them? So what? You think anyone is going to take them seriously if they come back with stories about flying people? They're not exactly known for their sobriety. Our primary concern is to prevent the split. Everything else is of secondary importance. You'll be equipped with miniature comsets that will enable you to keep in contact with the recon party. Our man in London is prepared for your arrival there, so if Taylor doesn't make his move before then, he'll be picking you up and giving you your instructions. You will also be issued lasers. It should be a piece of cake."
"Except for just one little thing," said Finn. "Taylor still has that chronoplate."
Mongoose grinned. "Well, you didn't want it too easy, did you?"
"I was just wondering what you intended to do in case Taylor and company decided that they'd reached the point of diminishing returns and skipped out to another time period," said Lucas. "You've never quite answered that to my satisfaction."
"There's always that risk, of course," said Mongoose. "But from what I know of Taylor, I'm willing to bet that he'll take it right down to the wire. He'll exhaust every possibility before he gives up on his operation. He'll use that chronoplate to try and outmaneuver us in this time period before he attempts to escape to another one."
"Suppose he does?" said Lucas.
"If he does, he'll find it very difficult to mount another operation," Mongoose said. "He'll need more financing and more manpower." Mongoose smiled. "A short while ago tonight, one of my men clocked out with a recorded testimony, in Jack Bennett's own words, proving conclusively that there has been and continues to be a link between the underground, the Timekeepers and the Temporal Preservation League. That, added to the other evidence we've gathered, will constitute all the proof the Referee Corps needs to order the arrest and interrogation of every known member of the Temporal Preservation League. The interrogation sessions will result in all the others being rounded up, as well. It will break the back of the anti-war effort."
"And result in the arrest, interrogation… what is that term you people use? Oh, yes. Interrogation with extreme prejudice," said Finn. "It will mean the arrest, re-education and forcible induction of a lot of innocent people whose only crime was in disagreeing with temporal policy. That will make things very convenient for the Referee Corps, won't it? They'll be able to draft all their political enemies."
"That shouldn't bother you, Delaney," Mongoose said. "After all, you're already in the service, aren't you?"
The door opened and an agent entered, very out of breath.
"She got away," he said.
"What? What happened?"
"She got Zebra with that damn laser," said the agent. "I hit the dirt when she fired and when I got up, she was gone."
"You idiot," said Mongoose. "Get out there and find her! I want her wasted, you understand?"
"Seems like you've thought of everything, Mongoose," said Delaney. "Now all you've got to worry about is a displaced person on the loose in Paris with a laser."
"She won't be on the loose for long," the agent said, grimly.
"I wouldn't know about that," Lucas said. "We ran into her on our last mission in 12th-century England and she struck me as being extremely capable. Jack Bennett was the only friend she had in this time period. How do you think she feels about the people who killed him?"
"Are you seriously suggesting that she'd try to take us on?" said Mongoose. He laughed. "In that case, she's as good as dead. We haven't got anything to worry about."
"Just the same," said Lucas, "I'd watch my back if I were you."
"I'm telling you, we have to get out now," said Jimmy Darcy. "They got Tonio. They must know everything by now! It's over, Adrian!"
"Don't be silly, Jimmy," said Milady, smiling faintly. "Nothing is over. Adrian knows what he's doing."
"Stop it! Stop it! Christ, Adrian, you're losing it! You're not Milady, for God's sake!"
"Jimmy, settle down. This is a most unfortunate display. There's nothing to be served by your losing control and panicking."
Darcy glanced at Freytag in exasperation. "Bruno, for God's sake, don't just sit there!"
Freytag smoked a cigarette, regarding him silently. Darcy went up to him and took him by the shoulders.
"Bruno, listen to me. There's no way we can succeed, not here, not now. They've got us hopelessly outnumbered. We've lost. They know the plan!"
"They know nothing of the sort," Milady said.
"What are you talking about?" said Darcy, spinning to face Taylor. "They know we're going to try to prevent the musketeers from bringing back the diamond studs! They'll have all their manpower focused on-"
"Who said that was the plan?" said Milady, softly.
Jimmy stared at Taylor. He looked back at Freytag, then at Taylor once again.
"What are you talking about? Of course that was the plan! We worked it all out! You said-"
"I never said any such thing," said Milady. "Adrian might have mentioned something of the sort, but that was only for your benefit."
Darcy looked bewildered. "What? I don't understand."
Milady got up and crossed the room, moving gracefully to the window. She looked out at the sun rising over Paris.
"The opposition has greater resources than we have," she said, without turning around. "Adrian always knew and understood that. He knew that the only way we could succeed was by using misdirection." She turned around to look at Darcy and smiled. "For security reasons, only Adrian and Bruno, and of course, myself, knew what the real plan was. And now you'll be able to appreciate why that was necessary.
"In a short while, D'Artagnan and the musketeers will be departing for London in order to see Lord Buckingham and get back the diamond studs in time for the queen to wear them to the ball. Unbeknownst to the musketeers, they will be supported in their efforts by the entire might of the Temporal Intelligence Agency team. I've made certain that Cardinal Richelieu knows all about the mission of the musketeers and he will have his men attempt to intercept them at several points along their route. All of this works in our favor. Mongoose will have no way of knowing if the men who will be attacking the musketeers are Richelieu's people or Timekeepers. In fact, we won't be involved at all. They will all be off on a fool's errand, a wild goose chase.
"When they reach London, should they get that far-and with the help of the TIA, I have no doubt that they will-they will collect the studs from Buckingham and start back, only to face further attempts to stop them on their return trip. Mongoose will be handicapped by history. He will be forced to use a certain amount of restraint in protecting the musketeers, since the historical progression of events must be preserved. The tension will build. They won't know when they can expect us to strike. They won't know exactly what to expect."
"What can they expect?" said Darcy, hesitantly.
"Assassinated!" Darcy's voice was little more than a whisper. "My God, Adrian, you can't do that! Don't you realize what that would mean? It would cause a timestream split!"
"A rather massive one, I should think. With all three of them dead, France will be forced to abandon the siege of La Rochelle in the face of much greater problems. It will, without a doubt, affect France's participation in The Thirty Years' War and, of course, it would prevent the birth of Louis XIV. I should think it would be an absolute disaster, well beyond the hope of any effort at historical adjustment. And with Mongoose and his agents running about like chickens with their heads cut off, it shouldn't be too difficult to isolate him and settle an old and outstanding score. Brilliant, don't you think?"
Darcy's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment and his hands began to shake. " You're mad," he said at last. "Bruno, surely you can see he's mad! Our purpose, our whole reason for existence is to stop the war machine before something happens that will irreversibly affect the course of history and that's precisely what he intends to do! He wants to cause the greatest disaster ever to befall mankind! It's megalomaniacal lunacy!"
Taylor stiffened and his eyes glazed over for a moment.
"Bruno, for God's sake, we've got to stop him!"
"Why?" said Freytag, softly.
Darcy turned pale. "You're both insane," he said. He pulled out his laser. "I'm not going to let you do it, Adrian. I won't let you throw away everything we've worked for all these years. It ends right here."
"You're right, Jimmy," Taylor said, his hand in a fold of his dress. "It ends right here… for you." He pressed a button.
Darcy gave a violent jerk, like a hooked trout breaking the surface of the water. His head snapped back and blood erupted from his nose and mouth. It trickled down his cheeks, seeping from his eyes, and it flowed from his ears and down his neck. He was dead before his body hit the floor.
"Now we can say that Doctor Bennett has fully served his purpose," Taylor said. "Bruno, will you join me in a glass of wine?"
11
D'Artagnan was awakened rudely, revived by a bucket of water dashed in his face. He sputtered and shook his head, then opened his eyes to see a frightened Constance peering down at him anxiously.
"That's the second time tonight you've doused me," he said. He ran his hand through his wet hair and sniffed it. "At least this time it was water."
"I was terrified," said Constance, clutching her torn dress about herself. "I thought you were killed!"
"I almost wish I was," D'Artagnan said, getting up slowly and rubbing his head. Almost as an afterthought, he pulled his pants up. "What happened?"
"The cardinal's men arrested your two friends," she said.
"This is the second time they've run afoul of Richelieu's men on my account," D'Artagnan said. "I must get my clothes-"
"I've brought them down for you," she said. Somewhat sheepishly, she added, "If you were dead, then I thought it best to dress you, so that you would not be found so…"
"Yes, I quite understand," D'Artagnan said, putting on his clothes. "Thank you."
"What are you going to do?"
"What time is it?"
"Almost midnight."
"Then there is no time to lose. I must first go to Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, then together we must go to Captain de Treville. Perhaps he will be able to intercede for Francois and Alexandre. In any case, we will have to obtain leave from him to go to London. I will tell him that we go in the queen's name, he will understand. We must leave tonight."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Go to the queen," D'Artagnan said. "Tell her that we will bring back the diamond studs. And stay with her. She will be able to protect you from Richelieu's men. But you cannot go looking like that."
"I have other clothing in the palace," Constance said. "It will do until you buy me that closetful of dresses." D'Artagnan looked pained.
"I can wrap myself in my cloak," said Constance. "Do not worry about me. Just save the queen."
"We must move quickly, then," D'Artagnan said. "If we do not reach Milord Buckingham with all possible speed, then Richelieu will surely win the day. I will escort you as far as the Louvre, then I must fly like the wind. Come, quickly. There is much to be done before the night is out."
He took her hand and together they left the house, rushing off into the night. No sooner had the door closed behind them, than Bonacieux peeked out from his room, where he had been listening.
"So, the musketeers are off to London, eh?" he mumbled to himself, furious at having been deceived. "That little piece of information should be worth something to my friend, the Count de Rochefort."
He threw on his cloak and hurried out into the street, heading toward the Rue des Bons Enfans.
Andre had nowhere to go. Jack Bennett had been her only friend in Paris and now he was dead, killed by men with laser weapons. He had told her that they must cooperate with the soldiers from the future, the men he had called commandos. The men who had killed him had been from the future also. All Andre knew was that they had attacked both Bennett and the commandos; therefore, they had to be the enemy, the men Bennett called the Timekeepers.
She was confused. She did not understand this timestream split they had spoken of, this changing of history. All she knew was that Bennett had said that they must help the soldiers, that even though the soldiers had seemed to be at odds with Bennett, they had not harmed him, even though they had ample opportunity. Hunter had explained that to her. Both Hunter and Bennett had been underground, men who had deserted from the army of the future. It was understandable that the soldiers should want to apprehend them, but they had recognized that there was a more important task at hand.
She kept thinking about the soldier who had spoken to her in Norman, the one who had said that they had met before, upon the field of battle, in the lists at Ashby.
She remembered that day very well. The white knight with the uprooted oak upon his shield had challenged all the knights upon the Norman side. He had killed Front-de-Boeuf and unhorsed both De Bracy and Bois-Guilbert. When her turn had come, they rode at each other several times and the white knight had won, in spite of the wondrous armor that she had been given by her benefactor, the man who had learned her secret and had forced her into his service as payment for not revealing it.
She knew now that the man who had given her the strange, magical-seeming armor had been from the future also. Hunter had told her later that the armor had been crafted from a material known as nysteel, far lighter than the armor of her time, much more flexible and virtually impregnable. She had been caught in a battle between two opposing forces from the future and it was that which led to her meeting Hunter.
It still seemed like sorcery to her. They called it science, but it was all far beyond her understanding. Hunter had attempted to explain "technology" to her and she had understood some of what he said, but it still seemed like magic. In a short time, her entire world had been turned upside down. She had become involved with people who could do things that defied belief; and yet, it was impossible to disbelieve, for she had seen these things. She was here, in Paris, centuries removed from her own time, their "science" had made it possible. She had longed to understand it all. Hunter had promised her that, with an implant, all would be made clear to her. She was not even certain what an "implant" was, but now the man who could have given it to her was dead, killed by the Timekeepers. The man who had brought her to this time was dead, killed by the Timekeepers. And the soldiers from the future, one of whom she had met with in the lists and who had treated her much more than fairly when he won, had been taken prisoner — again, by the Timekeepers.
Her course seemed clear. Her fa
te was tied to the soldiers from the future, the commandos, as Jack Bennett had called them. Her allegiance seemed clear, too. The leader of the Timekeepers, the man called Taylor who was now the woman called Milady, must die. From what she had understood, this Taylor was not merely disguising himself as a woman in the same manner as she disguised herself as a man. Somehow, with Jack Bennett's help, he had become a woman. Nothing surprised her anymore. After what she had seen, she was convinced that these people could do anything. She had to help the two commandos somehow. If she helped them to defeat their enemy, perhaps they would give her the implant Hunter had promised her. Perhaps they would take her to their own time, where a woman could live as the equal of a man. The only other alternative was for her to live out the remainder of her life in Paris, in this time. Her choice was clear.
After she had escaped from her pursuers, she carefully doubled back to the house in the Rue des Fossoyeurs. She arrived in time to see, from the shelter of an alley across the street, the soldiers from the future being led away by the men who had killed Jack Bennett. They were not bound in any way, but then, she reflected, given the sort of weapons these men possessed, there was no need for it. Stealthily, she trailed them to a house in the Rue Servadoni.
She was uncertain as to what she should do next. She felt the laser in her pocket. She wasn't comfortable with so terrible a weapon. She had only used it once, on one of her pursuers, and its effectiveness was frightening. Still, she did not think that she could attack that house all by herself. There were more men in there than she could handle, each with a weapon just as devastating. She would have to bide her time and wait for an opportunity. At least she was relatively certain that the two soldiers were still alive. If the Timekeepers had wanted them dead, they would have killed them instead of taking them prisoner. Perhaps they were being tortured even as she waited. She bit her lower lip. For the moment, she could think of nothing she could do.