Changing Yesterday

by Sean McMullen

  Daniel became aware of a sound like the drone of a large flying insect. He got up and checked his cabin, but found nothing. He returned to bed, and his book. After a time the droning faded. Daniel checked the time, and found that it was only two forty-five. He was now too tired to concentrate on a book full of unfamiliar bodily parts and functions, so he extinguished the lamp and closed his eyes. He soon discovered that he was too alert to sleep. For a while he tried thinking about sitting in cafés in St Kilda, holding hands with Muriel and looking into her eyes.

  ‘I shall love you until the end of time,’ said Daniel.

  ‘I want your heart,’ replied Muriel, who now had darker hair and a lean, pale face.

  ‘My heart is yours for the taking.’

  ‘Then I shall take it!’ cried the girl, who turned into Liore as she dragged Daniel up onto the table and plunged a knife into his heart.

  Daniel sat up in bed with a gasp, clutching his chest, his skin slick with sweat. He struck a match. His watch declared the time to be two fifty-five. Daniel lit his lamp again. Getting out of bed, he drew the radiocomm from his coat pocket and thumbed the studs as Liore had shown him. The screen glowed into life. He spoke the password, and with a few more taps called up the location of Barry and the weapon. The display declared Barry’s ship to have just entered the Red Sea, travelling at seventeen knots. Bored, but unable to sleep or read, Daniel wondered what else he could do to pass the time.

  A ragged line burst across the radiocomm’s screen. Daniel felt a pang of fear, thinking that he had damaged the device. Lines began flickering across the screen in what was almost a rhythm, but which never became regular. It’s detecting radio noises, Daniel realised. Liore had said that thunderstorms could interfere with it because they emitted radio waves. Thunderstorms were apparently like a huge, primitive radiocomm. Daniel looked out of the porthole. Stars were visible in the sky. That meant there were no clouds. Perhaps the storm is somewhere over the horizon, thought Daniel. Strange that the flashes are so regular, almost like Morse code . . .

  Suddenly Daniel snatched up a pencil and began to write. He kept writing until the flickers ceased to travel across the screen. Although it was now just past 3 am, Daniel dressed hurriedly and opened the door of his cabin. The corridors were lit by dim electric lights, and Daniel glanced at his piece of paper several times as he walked to reassure himself that this was indeed important. He felt awkward to be tapping at a door at such an hour, but it was Liore’s door, so that excused everything. The door opened. Daniel peered in.

  ‘The small hours of the morning are dangerous for visiting me,’ came Liore’s voice from the darkness. ‘It is the preferred time for death squads to arrive, and I kill death squads.’

  ‘Pardon me, but I think this is important,’ said Daniel, holding up his piece of paper.

  ‘Then come in. Madeline, the lights.’

  Daniel handed his piece of paper to Liore. She glanced at the words for a moment.

  ‘It reads like a telegram,’ she said. ‘A telegram from the Lionhearts. Where did you get it?’

  ‘I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would check on Barry’s position. The radiocomm started to pick up, um, what is the word? Inference?’

  ‘Interference, static, white noise. Go on.’

  ‘After a few seconds I noticed a pattern. There is a radio on this ship.’

  ‘This is 1901. The only radios in this time are primitive devices called spark gap transmitters that generate bursts of static to transmit Morse code. Just a moment.’

  Liore took the radiocomm from Daniel and pressed a pattern of studs, calling up an encyclopaedia entry.

  ‘1901 . . . experimental spark gap transmitters were – are – being installed on ships,’ Liore read from the screen. ‘Someone has sent a telegram on the ship’s spark gap radio.’

  ‘But this ship has no spark gap radio,’ said Daniel. ‘I’ve talked about it with the engineer.’

  Liore tapped at a few more studs. ‘You are right,’ she said. ‘Spark gap transmitters still had a very limited range in 1901, no more than some dozens of miles. They are not yet very practical for use on ships.’

  Liore handed the piece of paper to Madeline, who read it out aloud.

  ‘IX LION CUBS ABOARD STOP SEALION RETURNING STOP SEARCH COMMENCING STOP REPORT AT MID AND HALF STOP OUT STOP. Then there’s another line with just ACKNOWLEDGED.’

  ‘How did the radiocomm intercept this?’ asked Liore.

  ‘Flickers on the screen,’ said Daniel. ‘The message was about half over when I realised what I was seeing and began to write the words out. The last word was a lot weaker, as if it were coming from very far away.’

  ‘And this was in standard Morse code and plain language?’ asked Liore. ‘It is hard to believe that there is no security encryption.’

  ‘We are in the middle of the Arabian Sea,’ said Daniel. ‘They probably think nobody could listen in.’

  ‘What does it all mean?’ asked Madeline.

  ‘The Andromeda has been boarded by Lionhearts,’ said Liore.

  ‘But another ship would be visible if it got close enough for that, even on a moonless night,’ said Daniel.

  ‘Not so. All of the lifeboats on the Millennium had internal combustion engines fitted. One of them might have been sent after the Andromeda, and got close enough for someone to throw a padded grapple up to the stern rail. Nobody would have noticed, not at this time.’

  ‘I heard a buzzing, like a very big beetle was flying nearby,’ said Daniel. ‘It was about a quarter hour before this message was sent.’

  ‘A petroleum engine would sound like that. How many boarders were there, I wonder? IX. That might be nine in Roman numerals or six with the S missing. This is serious.’

  Liore slipped off her dressing gown and stood naked before Daniel and Madeline. Daniel had never seen her naked before, and the contrast with Muriel could not have been greater. She looked like neither a boy nor a girl, in fact she did not look entirely human. Her skin was like silk stretched over wire rope, and her shoulders were a little too broad for a girl. The overall effect was astonishing rather than alluring.

  ‘My shirt, trousers, are where?’ she asked Madeline.

  ‘In the ship’s laundry.’

  ‘Daniel, your clothes!’ she said coldly, then remembered herself and added ‘Please?’

  ‘I – you – my – um, sorry?’ stammered Daniel, staring at Liore in complete disbelief.

  Madeline put a hand over her eyes.

  ‘Take your clothes off, Daniel,’ she said. ‘Liore needs to dress as a boy.’

  ‘But, but, but –’

  ‘You can have her dressing gown to get back to your cabin. Now undress! Do it for the British Empire.’

  Faced with no other choice, Daniel turned away, closed his eyes and began to strip. One by one he dropped the items of clothing behind him. Now naked and burning with shame, Daniel stood with his back to the girls with his eyes closed and his hands over his groin. Suddenly he felt something being draped over his shoulders.

  ‘Lucky Julia,’ said Madeline admiringly behind Daniel. ‘Liore, how is the fit?’

  ‘Legs, arms, slightly long, otherwise good.’

  ‘You have dropped into battlespeak, Liore.’

  ‘Battle, has begun. Daniel, with Madeline, stay. Protect.’

  ‘But people will talk. I’m only wearing a dressing gown, it looks like I am here to, ah . . .’

  Daniel heard the door click.

  ‘Liore has gone,’ said Madeline. ‘Turn around and open your eyes, Daniel – oh, and best to tie the cord on the dressing gown first.’

  Daniel turned, and saw that Madeline was holding two pistols. She held one out to him.

  ‘Do you know what this is?’

  ‘Webley Bulldog, it’s a five-shot police pistol. My father has one on his study wall.’

  ‘Have you ever used one?’

  ‘No.’ ‘Any pistol?’

  ‘No. Just target rif
les at school sports.’

  ‘Well then, lots to learn.’

  ‘You must think I’m really pathetic.’

  ‘Pathetic? No. The only person who thinks you are pathetic is you, Daniel. I think . . . I think that you have grown up into a very fine young man, but that nobody has bothered to tell you.’

  ‘I still think we should not be alone together,’ said Daniel.

  ‘You would leave me at the mercy of the Lionhearts?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then we should be alone together. Here, take one of the Webleys, I’ll show you how to use it.’

  ‘You – you know how to shoot?’

  ‘My father is a policeman. He believes that girls should be able to look after themselves because there may not always be a man handy to defend them.

  ’ Daniel took the gun from her and examined it, checking the chambers and action. After some instructions from Madeline he felt confident that he could point the dangerous end at an enemy and look threatening. He extinguished the lamp.

  ‘I’ll take first watch,’ he said to Madeline. ‘Sleep with your gun in your hand, on the floor, behind your bed.’

  ‘What?’ exclaimed Madeline.

  ‘If you were an assassin, where would you look first?’

  ‘On the bed – oh, I see.’

  ‘Sunrise is just before 6 am, you must take over then.’

  Chapter 8

  WARRIOR

  Three Lionhearts made their way along the darkened steerage corridor with the purser. The purser was holding a lantern, for the luxury of electric lights did not extend to this part of the ship.

  ‘At this rate, five days to search the ship,’ said the leader, Harris, to the purser.

  ‘This is the last of the unoccupied steerage cabins,’ replied the purser.

  ‘Are you sure that Barold Chalmer has not been seen since the ship left Colombo?’

  ‘He was last seen on the promenade deck as we entered the harbour. After that a hole was burned through his cabin door, a hole so large that you might put your fist through without touching the sides.’

  ‘I must see that, but it can wait for daylight.’

  ‘Here’s the next cabin. Dodgeson, mind the door. Roberts, with me.’

  The purser and two Lionhearts entered the cabin and began their search, but it did not take long.

  ‘One second-class cabin and two first-class cabins are empty,’ said the purser. ‘They will not take long to search.’

  ‘We can search the cargo holds and mail rooms by day, it’s the occupied cabins that will be difficult,’ said Harris.

  ‘If the weapon is not found anywhere else, I can call a lifeboat drill for two hours. That will empty the cabins.’

  ‘There are only nine of us to search the bags and berths of nine hundred passengers. We can’t do that in two hours.’

  ‘You said the weapon is about two feet long, and resembles a stocky rifle with three barrels.’

  ‘That is the only description we have, and the source was not one of us.’

  ‘No matter. The point is that the thing is too big to conceal easily. With seventy seconds per passenger over two hours, you and your people can certainly do the searches. Come along, only one cabin in second class.’

  They emerged from the cabin and looked up and down the corridor. The purser held his lantern up. The corridor was empty.

  ‘Where the hell is Dodgeson?’ whispered Harris.

  Dodgeson woke to find himself bound and in darkness. He was not gagged, and he would have said ‘Is anyone there?’ but no sound came out of his mouth. He shouted for help but produced no more sound than before. Now in considerable fear of the unknown, he screamed. No scream reached his ears from his lips.

  ‘By your leave, speaking courtly. William Henry Dodgeson, by now you should have realised that you cannot make any sound. I have a device that is generating standing waves in your mouth. It is just like a gag, but not as uncomfortable. You can speak, however, and I shall see the words on a little screen. So far you have said, “Is anyone there?” and “Help! Help! Help!”’

  Who are you? asked Dodgeson.

  ‘I am Battle Commander Liore of the Imperial War Academy operational crews. Having the rank of Battle Commander means that I have the authority to charge, assess and execute any British citizen found to be endangering the empire of his majesty King Charles the Third by an act of treason.’

  What? There is no such king.

  ‘In 1989 he will be crowned in Melbourne, and he will reign over an empire most perilously endangered by the actions of a group of traitors called the Lionhearts – eighty-eight years earlier.’

  I don’t understand. None of that has happened.

  ‘But it will. I am from the future.’

  Impossible.

  ‘All too possible, William Dodgeson. There will be a century of total war between Britain and Germany because of the Lionhearts and what they did, in fact it will be called the Century War. How do you justify trying to provoke a war between Britain and Germany?’

  Socialist traitors in the government are letting the empire fall apart. We need a good war to clear the air and pull the empire back together.

  ‘Then by the authority assigned to my rank I find you guilty of treason. Do you wish to say anything by way of appeal?’

  Look, even if you are from the future, you have no authority here. Your king is not even born yet.

  ‘I follow the letter of the law. You are a British citizen, and you have committed treason by attempting to bomb the opening of parliament in Melbourne, then bomb the train carrying the heir to the British throne in Albury. You are still trying to start a war between Britain and Germany, and that endangers the empire for the century to come. Do you have anything else to say in your defence?’

  I demand a proper hearing before –

  ‘You are found guilty of treason and have forfeited your right of appeal.’

  What? You have no right to do this.

  ‘These proceedings are at an end, William Dodgeson. So, you wanted a war to clear the air? I come from over a century in the future, and I can assure you that billions are dead, Britain has been occupied by Germany, and the air is most certainly not clear.’

  It was two hours after dawn when Daniel awoke. Moving only his eyes, he took in the cabin. Madeline was at his feet, crouching with the Webley in her hand.

  ‘Good morning, miss,’ he whispered.

  ‘My first night with a boy,’ said Madeline. ‘A gun in my hand, on the floor, hiding behind a bed. They never put this sort of thing in romantic novels.’

  ‘I suppose not. Have you heard from Liore?’

  ‘Not a word, not a note.’

  ‘So what now?’

  ‘We stay here.’

  ‘Here? So what am I to wear? Liore’s dress?’

  ‘Not quite your colour. Best to stay in her dressing gown.’

  ‘If anyone sees us together like this they will think the worst.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Don’t you care for your good name?’

  ‘If I get spots on my name I shall change it. You should do the same.’

  ‘You don’t have a family with expectations back in Australia?’

  ‘I have a mother and father in Ballarat. Mother no longer has expectations. One day Father will be proud of me.’

  ‘Oh. Well, I suppose I care nothing for what my family thinks.’

  ‘Then why worry about good names, yours or mine?’

  Daniel had no answer for this. He stood up slowly. There was a chair jamming the door shut, and the table had been cleared of the device that Liore had been building. It had been replaced by bread, cold tea and cheese.

  ‘You did all this without waking me?’ asked Daniel.

  ‘My father taught me how burglars move with stealth.’

  ‘I like the sound of your father. He sounds better than mine.’

  With the search of the vacant cabins complete, the Lionhearts devised a new plan fo
r those that were occupied. As the passengers appeared in the saloons for breakfast, the Lionhearts went to their cabins with the purser’s master keys and did their searches. By the end of breakfast all of the second-class and half of the first-class cabins had been searched. Part of steerage was done at lunchtime. When not searching the cabins they went through the storage areas. It was in the late afternoon that another mystery was brought to the notice of Harris.

  ‘I swear, I only turned my back on Roberts for a few seconds!’ said Moore, gesturing behind him, then to the sack of mail he had been searching.

  ‘Was it as well lit as it is now?’ asked Harris.

  ‘Yes, yes, even brighter. I’d borrowed his knife to cut the cord on the mail sack and turned away from him for about five seconds. I said, “That’s got it open”, and turned back to return his knife, but he was gone. No footsteps, not a sound.’

  Harris looked up and down the walkway. It would have taken a dozen strides in either direction to reach cover. The walkway was metal, so if Roberts had run, the sound of his boots would have been easily heard. Harris looked up. Behind the walkway was a crate perhaps eight feet high.

  ‘Get a couple of trunks from storage,’ he said. ‘I want to look on top of that thing.’

  Standing on two trunks Harris looked over the top of the crate. In spite of the tropical heat there were some drops of clear liquid on the wood. He dipped his finger in one, and found it to have the consistency of saliva.

  ‘No mystery. Someone pulled Roberts up here while your back was turned,’ he said.

  ‘No mystery?’ exclaimed Moore. ‘Who or what could lift a fully grown man straight up there in a second without making any sound at all?’

  ‘That thing from the Millennium,’ said Harris, trying not to sound fearful.

  ‘But – but it’s an animal. You saw what it did to Sir Bernard and his guards.’

  ‘I smell a German plot. Notice how it only kills Lionhearts. I have heard of guard dogs trained to bite people who do not speak German. Perhaps it’s a trained ape being used as an assassin.’

  ‘An ape with claws?’

  ‘Why not? Germany has a colony in New Guinea, there are all sorts of strange things there. I wager that someone put it aboard the Millennium as a test, to see how much damage it could do.’