The Shores of Tripoli
Page 21
“So they think they can just shoot the NLE again and zap the boat back in time.” MacFarland wrinkled her brow. “How are they going to control it?”
Williams shrugged. “That’s for the scientists to figure out.”
“And we’re the guinea pigs,” said Smith. “We’ll be there to figure out the bubbles to get the boat back.”
“I’m not signing us up for that,” said Williams.
MacFarland nodded.
“I know, sir,” said Smith.
“Let’s just see what happens.”
Smith took a deep breath. “And what if they ask us to repeat whatever the hell we just went through?”
“Get some rest and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” Williams yawned. “We’ve got plenty of time.”
Epilogue
“Gambia?” asked Williams. “Don’t you mean Malta?”
“Malta?” Colonel Dudgeon uncrossed his arms. “No. Gambia. Right there.” Dudgeon pointed to the islands north of Libya.
“Gambia’s in Africa.”
Dudgeon nodded. “That’s The Republic of Gambia. But I’m talking just the island nation. There,” he said, pointing again at the map.
Williams paused. “Sir, they didn’t wipe any of the computers, did they?”
“From your boat?”
Williams nodded.
“It hasn’t arrived yet. Why?”
“I think we’ve got a problem.”
“Problem with what?”
“Those islands are supposed to be called Malta.” Williams walked up to the map of the Mediterranean and looked at the names of the other nations. “That’s what it was called before the experiment.” He tapped on the island chain. “Malta. Not Gambia.”
Dudgeon didn’t change his expression. “Are you sure?”
Williams laughed ironically. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He continued to read names on the map.
“Why’d you ask about the computers?”
“Think I might have proof.”
Dudgeon looked intrigued.
“Think I might’a saved a copy of the CIA World Book.” Williams ran his finger from Tripoli to Malta—Gambia—and then up to Italy. “Nothing else looks different.” He shook his head. “But I’m a little jet-lagged.”
“We better compare everything we can.”
“Who knows what we changed? And why. Did someone die who shouldn’t have, or someone live that died two hundred years ago?”
Dudgeon shrugged. “That’s going to be tough to solve. They didn’t keep the greatest records in that region.”
“So how are we going know what to put back?”
“That depends,” said Dudgeon.
“Depends on what?”
“Well, if we’re better off because of it.”
“Who’s better off?” asked Williams.
“America. The world. Doesn’t matter. If it’s better, so be it.”
Williams swallowed. He realized that any other documents he’d saved on his ship’s computer and all the books on his crew’s electronic devices had just become highly valuable, and probably highly classified.
Those documents—and his memory—might be the only proof of what the world should really be.