Day of the Assassins jc-1

by Johnny O'Brien

  “What?”

  “The Benefactor — he’s your father…”

  “But… how…?”

  “Jack, I know this is hard…”

  Slowly it started to become clear. “…the library at Cairnfield…”

  “Yes — your father’s workshop.”

  It all made sense. All the First World War memorabilia they had found there. Then there was the present of a history book and his strange flashbacks of the trip to the First World War battlefields and cemeteries — no doubt driven by his father’s interest in history — maybe his desire for Jack to share the same interest, and share his horror at the slaughter. And then there was his early childhood near Geneva — where his father had worked with the rest of the Taurus team. And his father never being at home — always working — which wasn’t surprising given the importance of what he was doing. And, of course, the separation from his mum. It was obvious now why that had happened. The stress must have been unbearable. Jack couldn’t believe that he had not realised it before.

  “But why wasn’t I told… why didn’t Mum say…?”

  “To protect you. Knowledge of the Taurus, and the people involved with it, is strictly controlled. Carole, your mother, is aware, she has to be… but she is on our side. Your father pleaded with her desperately for you both to join him when he left. But Carole was determined that she should try to give you a normal life… not to have you caught up in all… this. And anyway…”

  “Anyway what?”

  The Rector turned away again, rubbing his hands by the fire. “Sorry Jack… your father could be… difficult.”

  “So, this explains the message we received from Jack’s mother on the time phone in the balloon,” the professor said.

  “We managed to send a temporary signal from our Taurus to your time phone. We told Carole immediately what had happened, and we sent the message from her, we thought you would trust her, to try to warn you that we would be bringing you in. Not to resist. We would have tried to get you back right then — but there was no signal.”

  “So why send a couple of thugs?” Jack said crossly.

  “MacFarlane and Smith?” the Rector raised his eyebrows, “This is not a game, Jack. The fight you witnessed at the school was… unfortunate. But we were desperate — we had to act very, very fast.”

  “But on Dreadnought… they were going to inject me with some stuff, then Gordon shot at me with that weird rifle thing when I managed to get on the balloon.”

  “No. It might have appeared like that to you. You were under intense stress. They had strict orders to sedate you if necessary, but to bring you home, safely, as soon as we had a signal. I understand that Mr Macfarlane’s shot at the balloon was an attempt to free it from its moorings before you boarded it. It was the shot of a marksman… He was certainly not aiming for you. Those two are utterly trustworthy.” He added under his breath, “Although sometimes they become a little over enthusiastic.”

  “But you still have not explained why this young man is so important to you — why he needs to be mixed up in all of this?” the professor said, glancing across at Jack sympathetically. “Surely it is Jack’s father you want, not Jack?”

  The Rector sighed, “Don’t you see? I’m afraid, Jack, in a way, you are a kind of hostage. If we have you, then the Benefactor, your father, has his hands tied… You are the only person in the world that he cares about. He even thinks Carole has betrayed him now. The only way we can stop him using the Taurus is by threatening to harm you if he does.”

  Jack suddenly realised the terrible logic of his predicament and thought back to the email from his father that he and Angus had read in Pendelshape’s store cupboard: I fear that when they find out, they may take Orion… we must protect Orion.

  Orion. At last he knew who that was. Orion was himself. His father had wanted Pendelshape to make sure that Jack was safe, so that his father would be free to use his own Taurus, without the Rector and VIGIL stopping him by threatening to harm his son. It explained, too, why Pendelshape had taken them into his confidence so suddenly and taken such a risk in showing them the Taurus and its control room. Pendelshape had been working secretly with his father all along. Before the Rector had arrived with Tony and Gordon in the control room, Pendelshape was about to take Jack somewhere so that the Rector could never find them. In fact, as he had guessed, Pendelshape had been planning to use the Taurus to hide Jack in time. In 1914. Then, his father could use his second Taurus to locate them and rescue them — so they would be permanently free from the clutches of the Rector and VIGIL. But the Rector had arrived too soon and had upset the plan. Ironically, Jack had been so frightened by the sudden arrival of the Rector and the VIGIL guards, he had panicked and used the Taurus to escape anyway.

  But the email had also mentioned someone else: Lynx.

  There is nothing we can do about Lynx now — she has gone over to the other side.

  Jack looked at the Rector, “So if I am ‘Orion’, who is ‘Lynx’?”

  “Carole — your mother.”

  Of course. “So, what you’re saying is that I’m a kind of pawn in a battle between you and my dad?”

  “I’m afraid so, Jack.”

  “And while you have me… you can threaten my dad that you might kill me… or… or torture me… then you know he won’t do anything. Anything silly — with the second Taurus — to change things in the past. To change the course of history…”

  “Yes. But you are more than a pawn. You are much, much more important than that. In fact, I would say, right now, until we can track down your father, and bring him under control, you are possibly the most important person in the world. It’s only the threat to harm you that prevents your father from acting. We are all involved in a deadly high-wire balancing act… It’s not how we want it to be. But it’s the way it is.”

  Jack felt confused at first… then he started to feel angry. Angry that these men, with their intellects and ambitions had created a technology so powerful and so potentially lethal that it could scarcely be discussed, let alone used. Angry that, for some reason, it was in him that the precarious balance of power between these two enemies was maintained. Angry, that his mum had not found it possible to explain any of this to him before. Angry that it was the battle to control this great power that had torn his own family apart.

  Later, with the night upon them, they were led through a series of spiral staircases and passageways to their rooms. Separate rooms. Jack’s seemed to have been cut straight from the massive stonework of the castle walls. The door closed behind him and he heard a key turn in its lock and a dull clunk as two bolts on the outside were slid into place. It was like being in an underground bunker. The air was completely still and there was no sound. Although it was small, some attempt had been made to make the place comfortable. On the floor, a thick rug covered the grey flagstones. There was some simple dark-oak furniture and a pair of maroon curtains. There was a made-up bed with pillows, sheets, blankets and a richly embroidered gold and red bedspread. It looked like it must have taken months to hand sew. It was nothing like his blue-and-white striped duvet at home that had probably spun off a textile machine in China in five seconds.

  Jack peered through the small window. It was getting late and the ragged outline of the mountains was darkening against an indigo sky. The window was set solidly into the one-metre thick castle wall and could not be opened. For the time being, he was caged. Of course he now knew why. He was being held hostage from his own father, the Benefactor, in case he was, in some way, able to find out where his son was located and was then able to mount a daring rescue mission.

  He remembered the awe he had felt when he discovered that the extraordinary workshop beneath Cairnfield actually belonged to his own father. He had been proud to be associated with somebody so brilliant — his own flesh and blood. Now, he realised just how powerful his father was, and therefore how important he himself was, his feelings were agonisingly mixed. There was pride in feeling �
��special’ but at the same time he was scared and confused. He didn’t know who to trust — the Rector, VIGIL and his mum, or Pendelshape and his dad. He didn’t know who was really right and who was really wrong and he didn’t want to have to choose.

  Rescue

  It was still dark outside. Jack had been dreaming again of the visit to the First World War graves — the endless sea of white crosses, the grassed-over outline of old trench networks, then running along for shelter from the storm and opening the door and seeing his mum and dad… crying… and then his mum whisking him back to his bedroom. He was relieved when gradually the curtains lightened with the arrival of a bright mountain dawn.

  Breakfast was set out on a white-clothed buffet table at the end of the hall where they had met the Rector the night before. A fire had already been started and was crackling away merrily. The professor had been up early and sat alone at the long breakfast table nursing a cup of coffee. His head was still buried in Jack’s history book. Occasionally, a figure would scurry silently into the hall from an ante-room to clear a plate or bring fresh coffee. As Jack entered, the professor raised his head in acknowledgement and waved absent-mindedly at the food. Having helped himself, Jack settled down opposite the professor, unfurled a napkin and was about to tuck into two large poached eggs and several rashers of bacon when he noticed a rather strained expression on the professor’s face.

  “OK, Professor?”

  The professor looked to the left and to the right as if to make sure that they were alone and whispered across to Jack conspiratorially. “It’s not right.”

  “What do you mean?” Jack asked loudly.

  The professor winced, “Keep your voice down!”

  Jack looked around him and shrugged as if to say ‘why?’.

  The professor manoeuvred a prune around his bowl with his fork. “Were you locked in your bedroom last night?”

  “Yes. But the Rector explained, they can’t take any chances, can they? They have to protect me. But they don’t want to harm us. It’s just the threat of being able to harm me that gives them power over Dad. I don’t like it either.”

  The large oak doors swung open and the Rector strode purposefully towards them.

  “Good morning, gentlemen! I see you are making yourselves at home… excellent! I trust you both had a good night’s sleep?”

  The professor continued to prod the prune. The Rector inspected the fare on offer at the buffet.

  “Not bad at all considering the short time we’ve had to set this place up.” He started to load his plate and was soon sitting beside them at the table.

  “Is there a plan, sir?” Jack asked. “Will we be going home soon?”

  “Well, your priority should be to have a good breakfast… you’ve had a traumatic time.” He filled a large cup from the coffee pot, “And then, for the rest of today, you will stay in the castle. As you can see, we have taken over this place because it affords us a number of obvious advantages — isolation, security… But I think you will find the main courtyard a pleasant place to while away a few hours.” He glanced over at the high-arched windows that dominated the far end of the hall, “Looks like it’ll be a fine day.”

  “And then what?”

  The Rector thought for a moment, “Well, as soon as we finally achieve a reliable signal connection, we shall send you back to the twenty-first century. Simple as that, really, Jack. The small VIGIL team we have here will follow, using our time phones, once we have, er, done some tidying up. Closed this place down in an orderly manner for a start. This might be today. It might be tomorrow. It’s a little difficult to tell. But our plan is that you should arrive back just after the point that you made the original trip from the Taurus.” His face tightened, “It will be hard, Jack, but at that point you will need to continue your life as if nothing had happened. We will be there to guide you. As I explained yesterday, our aim will be to ensure that you lead a normal life… of course, we will need to keep you protected…”

  “From Dad?”

  “Yes. I’m afraid if ever he gets hold of you, then, well, we will have very little hold over him. There will be nothing to stop him.”

  “Is there no way of finding out where he is? Dad, I mean. Negotiating or something?”

  “We have no idea where your father is or where the second Taurus is, but of course it is something we are working on. As for negotiation — I’m afraid we’re well past that stage.”

  The Rector took a slurp of coffee and then turned his attention to the professor. “As for you, Professor, you will be free to go, with your world record for the most distance travelled by balloon intact. But we must ask you not to speak of the events you have experienced. I am sure you understand.”

  The professor looked up from his prune and nodded half-heartedly. Something was bothering him.

  Later, they sat in the small courtyard of the castle, sipping lemonade at a table, awaiting instructions from the Rector. The castle was very quiet although occasionally a VIGIL guard could be seen moving along the crenellated outline of the upper walls. The afternoon sun cast a sharp, diagonal shadow midway across the courtyard.

  The professor continued to be engrossed in Jack’s book. Occasionally, he would raise his head and contemplate the bright reflection of the sunlight on the cobblestones, or ask Jack some question about the war or the future. Nearby, water from a stone fountain gurgled into a flat earthenware basin. It was surrounded by a well-trimmed hedge. Presumably, this place still existed in the future. Jack vaguely thought about scratching his name or something, surreptitiously on one of the walls, to see if it would still be there nearly a hundred years in the future. He sighed. He’d only been away a couple of days but he missed home. It would be good to talk to his mum about everything that had happened. Properly this time. No more awkward silences or changing the subject. He could speak to her as an equal: this time they would both know the truth about Dad.

  “You’ve been reading that thing for hours.”

  “It nearly didn’t happen,” the professor replied.

  “What?”

  “The war.”

  “Sorry?”

  “There have been several Balkan crises before now… in fact, the Balkans is always in a crisis of some sort. Do you know what I’m talking about, Jack?”

  Jack tried to tune in to what the professor was saying, “Yes, Professor, I think so, Pendelshape was always going on about it. When the Ottoman Empire’s power declined in the Balkans, it kind of left no one in control.”

  “Yes. Well, it’s not just the Ottoman Empire; the Austro-Hungarian Empire has also struggled to impose itself over all the different nationalities within its borders. There have been many crises and wars there. The point is, though, they have mostly been successfully sorted out by the diplomats. In fact, Europe has been at peace since 1871. Problems in the Balkans have happened before… and have been successfully worked out… or at least, have not led to a wider war — like the one in here.” He held up the book and tapped its spine vigorously with his index finger, “A world war.”

  “So?” Jack said.

  “But 1914, now, this time, my time, is somehow different. This time the great European powers — Germany, France, Russia, Britain, Austria-Hungary — don’t work it out… But they could have!” he said triumphantly. “And then things would have continued as normal! In fact, it was all just a silly mistake… there was no need for war at all! And this silly mistake… is responsible for the deaths of millions of people! People just like you and me…”

  The professor stared at Jack through his round spectacles with his intense blue eyes. He looked around the courtyard furtively and whispered, “Jack — to be honest — I think maybe your father might be right about all this — if I understand properly what he is trying to do. Maybe it is right to use this amazing time machine of his to go back and try to change things so that they are better. Maybe even… maybe we have a responsibility to… stop it. Stop this war… and maybe, I, as a German, living
now, maybe I have a special responsibility to stop it…”

  Jack didn’t like where this was going, “Professor, I’m not sure…”

  The professor spoke with an intensity that he had not heard before.

  “I am not like you. I am of this time. For you, this is the past. For me, this is the present. I have a responsibility…”

  Jack shook his head slowly, “I’m not sure that’s how it’s supposed to work… you heard what the Rector said…”

  “But think!” the professor pleaded. “We have the power to stop many deaths. Why wouldn’t you do that… if you could? If you had that power.”

  Put like that, Jack could see his point. But he had also heard what the Rector had said — about the unknown consequences of fiddling with time, with things in the past. Anyway, he didn’t want to get involved in this conversation. He just wanted to go home.

  “But if we try to change things it might make them worse, we don’t know…” he strained to order his thoughts… “Maybe the war is supposed to happen; maybe it will happen whatever we do…?”

  The professor was unconvinced, “Many lives will be lost Jack. With your father’s help maybe we could find a way to save them… to save them all.”

  The suggestion hung provocatively in the air. When the Rector had explained everything to him, it seemed that VIGIL and its leaders were right. He had even started to believe the Rector when he’d said that his father was a dangerous fugitive. But, with the professor’s unexpected plea, suddenly he was not so sure. Maybe his father was right?

  Their troubling conversation was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stone stairs in the block behind them. Tony and Gordon entered the courtyard, closely followed by two other VIGIL guards and the Rector. They marched over to where Jack and the professor sat.

  “Gentlemen, I am so sorry to disturb you but we have rather worrying news,” the Rector said. He stroked back wisps of his silver hair nervously. He was sweating.