The Empire of Time

by David Wingrove

  I stare at her. ‘But you’re …’

  ‘A princess. Of the royal blood. And Tief’s niece. And people do what I tell them to.’

  ‘But Manfred …’

  ‘Is busy. And while he is – while he’s looking elsewhere – I can get you inside.’ She smiles. ‘Maybe that’s why.’

  I stare at her, then laugh. She’s quick. Quicker than I expected. And maybe it is why I ‘saved’ her. To be my key. My way in.

  ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘But can we go there now?’

  Her smile seems a foot wide. ‘The flyer’s waiting. We only have to get on board.’

  123

  Seeing me, Gehlen groans, then gives a great huff of exasperation.

  ‘You? What are you doing here?’

  ‘He’s with me,’ Gudrun says, squeezing in through the hatch.

  The flyer isn’t designed for someone her size, but she makes do, taking two seats and stretching her long legs out along the aisle. And I find that being inside such a small space with her has a strange, dream-like quality, like sharing a rabbit hole with Alice.

  As the ship lifts and glides towards its cruising altitude, Gehlen tries to ignore us only Gudrun has other ideas. Looking to me, she gestures towards the overhead cams.

  ‘They’re off. You can speak freely if you want.’

  I look to Gehlen.

  ‘No,’ he says. ‘Not even with the cameras off. I’ve nothing to say to you.’

  ‘You’ve been working on it,’ I say. ‘Trying to understand the fluctuations. The discontinuities.’

  His head jerks round, alarmed.

  ‘Oh, nothing visible, nothing out loud. Nothing the watchers could make out. But in your head …’

  He seems shocked. ‘How do you know that?’

  I don’t say. I let him dangle a moment. Then – ‘You want to talk?’

  ‘No!’ But he says it too quickly, and that’s the give-away. He does want to talk. In fact, he positively aches to share his thoughts.

  I shrug. ‘Okay.’

  He’s still for a while, then he turns and looks at me. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘A friend.’

  ‘I don’t believe that. A friend wouldn’t expose me like this.’

  ‘Expose you?’

  ‘To suspicion. I’ve children …’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Then you’ll know I can’t take risks. I can’t talk. I can’t …’ He looks down, then sighs heavily. ‘I just can’t, that’s all.’

  I like him better when he’s not being so cock-sure and arrogant. And I take his point about his children. Only … they’ll be dead two days from now. Dead. And there is nothing any of us can do about it.

  I soften a little. ‘Look … I’m sorry. But what’s done is done. I’ve met you now. And if Manfred has any suspicions, he’ll have them whether you speak to me or not.’

  ‘Only I won’t.’

  ‘So you’ve said.’ I leave a brief silence, then, as if to Gudrun, say: ‘It’s the equations. They keep running off to infinity. And that’s bad. It indicates that the laws of physics are breaking down.’

  I look back at Gehlen, who’s now staring at me open-mouthed.

  ‘Either that,’ I add quietly, ‘or the maths is wrong.’

  ‘The maths is right,’ he says, so softly that I have to strain to hear him. ‘I’ve checked it endless times. In my head.’

  ‘And now there’s drainage, too.’

  Gehlen meets my eyes and nods.

  ‘Somewhen,’ I say.

  ‘Yes … only it isn’t possible.’

  124

  They’re waiting for us at Erfurt – four of Manfred’s ships. As we land, their guns are trained on us.

  ‘Shit!’ Gehlen says, his face pressed to the cabin window. ‘Shit!’

  He turns and glares at me. And who can blame him? Only I can change it; make it all right again.

  I concentrate, thinking it through. I could jump, back to Four-Oh, then jump directly to the moment before I first meet Gehlen. There, confronting myself, I could tell myself not to board the flyer with Gehlen, but let him return alone, unhindered, to Erfurt. The rest could be left to transpire as it did until that point.

  Right. Only there’s a problem. If I don’t get on the flyer, then I won’t be there to make the jump back to Four-Oh when things go wrong. If I take myself out of the loop, the loop will vanish.

  In other words, we’re fucked.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry?’ He looks at me despairingly. ‘You’ve ruined me! You and your stupid fucking questions!’

  And he puts his head in his hands and groans.

  Get a grip, I want to say. No one is going to harm you. Only I don’t know that. Because this is a whole new train of events I’ve set in motion. And if I can’t jump out …

  But before I can even begin to think of a solution, Gudrun takes matters into her massive hands.

  I hear the sound of safeties being taken off, feel a new tension in the air and, turning round, realise that Gudrun is no longer in the craft.

  She’s outside, talking to one of the soldiers. I can’t make out what’s being said, but suddenly the man’s voice rises to an angry shout.

  I rush to the hatch and look out. Gudrun is standing there, towering over the man – a captain – while all about her his men point their weapons up at her. It’s a tense moment and I try to defuse it.

  ‘Gudrun … move back from him. And for Urd’s sake do as he says.’

  She looks at me, surprised. I sense that it’s against a habit of a lifetime for her to take orders from a common Wehrmacht officer. Even so, she does as I’ve asked.

  Things relax a little.

  The officer looks to me and nods. ‘Ambassador. I have orders to take you back to Berlin. To the Konigsturm.’

  ‘And my friend?’ I ask, indicating Gehlen, who can be seen through the thick glass of the cabin window.

  But the officer doesn’t say. ‘If you would come now, Herr Lucius …’

  125

  What have I done? What in Urd’s name have I done?

  On the flight back to Berlin, I picture it. Gehlen in chains in a cell in the Gefangnis, the Guild prison, unable to complete his work. Unable to come up with the equations that will be the saving of us all.

  In which case …

  I stop, mentally staring out over an abyss. Surely, if I have fucked things up, then it will simply end? If Gehlen doesn’t complete his work, then we’ll all just disappear, like so many ghosts – isn’t that so?

  Isn’t it?

  But here I am still, bound hand and foot, a prisoner, sitting between two visored soldiers in the back of a troop-carrier.

  So maybe it isn’t over yet. Maybe …

  No. No maybes. It can’t be over. Something has to happen. Something which sets it right. Which allows Gehlen to complete his work and forge the circle.

  After all, the snake has to swallow its tail.

  Back at the Konigsturm I am taken straight to Manfred’s private suite where, roused from his bed, he comes out to face me, draped in a dark blue silk gown the size of a sail, a deep anger in his clear blue eyes.

  ‘Lucius, oh my dear Lucius, what have you been up to?’

  ‘It’s Otto,’ I say. ‘Otto Behr. And I’m German.’

  But he seems not to hear me. Or ignores me. Whichever, he gestures towards the centre of the great chamber, and as he does, so a holo-image forms, life-size in the air.

  ‘Do you know this man?’

  I do, if only from the distinctive double head. It’s Reichenau.

  ‘No.’

  ‘He says he knows you.’

  ‘You have him prisoner?’

  ‘We did. In the Gefangnis. But he blasted his way out. He and his accomplices.’

  I am quiet for a time. When I look up again, I see that Manfred’s watching me. He seems less angry now.

  ‘Tell me,’ he says. ‘What were you doing down there? Why were you so interested in t
he power source?’

  ‘I had heard rumours, my lord.’

  ‘Rumours?’

  ‘That there was leakage. That the impossible had happened and that the black hole was failing.’

  Manfred studies me a moment, then turns away. ‘Are you working for them, Lucius?’

  ‘Them?’

  ‘The Russians.’

  I laugh. It’s so preposterous, it’s almost funny. ‘No. For us.’

  ‘Us? Who’s us?’ And he half turns towards me as he asks, like he’s teasing a child.

  ‘The Volk. The German people.’

  ‘Ah.’ He’s quiet a moment, then. ‘Your arrival. It was … timely, shall we say. Just as things began to go wrong. The drainage. The bomb. Perhaps …?’

  He doesn’t finish his perhaps, just leaves it as a general insinuation.

  ‘I have done nothing, My Lord.’

  ‘Nothing? Smuggling my niece out of the palace. Trying to get in to our highest security establishment. Mixing with the leader of the Unbeachtet – the most powerful Undrehungar sect. You call these nothings?’

  ‘I’ve never met the man.’

  ‘And yet he says he knows you. Made a great point of it, in fact.’

  ‘Before he escaped.’ I pause, then: ‘I didn’t think it possible, to escape from the Gefangnis.’

  Manfred turns and faces me. ‘I ought to have you killed. You, and Gehlen and that stupid meddling niece of mine. Only …’

  I wait and he finishes. ‘Only I’ve seen too many die these past few hours.’

  So I’m to live. Good. It saves me disappointing him and jumping straight out of there.

  He crouches, his face almost at the level of my own, yet not quite. Even on his haunches he is still a good few feet taller than me.

  ‘So what were you talking about? In the flyer …’

  ‘My lord?’

  ‘Just tell me, Lucius. Save yourself the pain. I really don’t want to hurt you. I rather liked you. You seemed … fresh. Untouched by it all.’

  I’m silent, and so he sighs and straightens, his tall, well-proportioned body seeming to climb up and up until his head almost touches the ceiling of the room, high as that is.

  ‘Oh, Lucius, why don’t you simply tell me? It makes things so much easier. So much … nicer.’

  ‘I asked him about the leakages.’

  ‘And he said?’

  ‘He wouldn’t answer. He’s very loyal. Was fearful for his children.’

  ‘A boy and girl, I understand …’

  I look up at Manfred. Is he teasing me now? Being sadistic? Has last night’s work broken something in his mind?

  But he only looks disappointed.

  ‘What will happen to him?’

  ‘Gehlen? Nothing. He’s far too valuable. Besides, I believe him.’

  ‘And Gudrun?’

  Manfred doesn’t answer, and after a moment there’s a knock. It’s Tief. He stands there in the huge doorway, his grey head bowed, awaiting his master’s orders.

  ‘Your niece,’ Manfred says. ‘She must tell us everything. Unless she does …’

  Tief seems to bow even lower. ‘Master.’ And then he turns and leaves, obedient to the last.

  Manfred looks at me. ‘You say your name is Otto?’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  ‘Then tell me, Otto. What’s happening? What’s really happening?’

  126

  I want to help her, only I don’t know how. I don’t even know where she is.

  Jump, I tell myself. Go back. Unthread it all, stitch by stitch, then put it back together differently.

  Only how? And, more to the point, when?

  My mind’s a blank. For once I’m totally at a loss. Gudrun’s important – she has to be – only I don’t know in what way. I’ve not a clue what part she has to play, except that she clearly does.

  Manfred didn’t like it that I refused to talk, but for some reason he’s loath to torture it out of me. Or maybe he’s trusting to Gudrun telling him everything he wants to know.

  Guards take me back to the guest quarters. There’s no sign of Heusinger, and when I ask, they refuse to tell me where he is.

  I sit on the bed and wait. I could jump, sure, but why jump until I need to? Why not see first where this time-strand leads?

  An hour passes and then, at last, someone comes.

  It’s Tief. He looks at me, a grave sadness in his eyes, then shakes his head. ‘You should never have intervened,’ he says. ‘You should have let things take their course.’

  I frown. What does he mean by that? Does he know I’m a Reisende? Has Gudrun told him everything?

  ‘How is she?’ I ask.

  ‘Alive.’

  It’s an ominous answer.

  ‘Will she be punished?’

  ‘That’s not for me to say.’

  ‘She had no part in it, you know.’

  Tief says nothing. But it’s noticeable how he won’t even look at me now. As if, like Manfred, he’s badly disappointed in me. After a moment he says, ‘You must come now. The King wishes to speak with you again.’

  I go with him. I have no choice, unless, of course, to jump, and as I said … I want to know where this all leads.

  Manfred is in his War Room, one great wall of which is dominated by a giant map. Germany is in black, to the left of the great screen; Russia, in red of course, is to the right. And that is all there is, almost as if nothing else exists.

  Death and blood, I think, looking at the stark contrast of the colours.

  ‘Herr Behr,’ he says, greeting me. ‘Come, take a seat. I want you to see this.’

  That seems my role, as far as he’s concerned. To be his witness. To sit there watching while he acts. And so I shall, for a time.

  There’s a nest of computer-stations just below where we are sitting, between Manfred and the giant map. In each small semi-circular station sits one of his commanders. As he speaks to each, so they swivel round in their great padded chairs and look up at him through dark glass visors on which quick strands of colourful lettering run.

  Ge’not, I note with surprise.

  ‘Marshal von Pasenow …’

  ‘Yes, Your Majesty?’

  ‘You can begin the assault.’

  Von Pasenow gives a beaming smile of pride within the darkness of the glass, then swivels back. On the map a bright line of gold begins to glow in the most northerly sector, broadening by the moment.

  Manfred looks to me, then gestures towards the map.

  ‘They’ll hit back. Or try to. Only this time my commanders will be operating under zero restraint. This time it’s total war.’ He meets my eyes. ‘Us or them.’

  The thought of it chills me, but only because I know. Billions dead, and the great Earth itself a wasteland.

  We could stop it, only if we did, we too would disappear, and immediately it would happen yet again, for this alone is ‘locked in’, like there’s some sick set of scales at work, creating this warped balance. We get time travel, yes, but at the greatest cost imaginable.

  So it is. For this is how it happened. And how it’s happening now, for all my attempts to meddle.

  I might have known. Only … Ernst is still trapped, and if I don’t free him then I won’t get back to Katerina. And that – though it seems so very little in the great scheme of things, so selfish – is, for me, unthinkable.

  ‘What if they use their bombs?’ I ask.

  ‘We’ll shoot them down.’

  ‘And what if they’ve bombs in place, right here, in Neu Berlin?’

  He looks at me pointedly. ‘Have they?’

  ‘If I were them, I would. Wouldn’t you?’

  He almost smiles. ‘We have. In Moscow.’

  ‘Then …?’

  ‘Our agents are at work right now. Rounding them up. Neutralising them.’

  ‘You’re that confident?’

  He nods. ‘We infiltrated them long ago. Sleepers. Counter-agents. It began last night, after we freed
Reichenau.’

  ‘You let him go?’ That does surprise me.

  ‘And watched where he ran to.’

  ‘So you have him under observation?’

  Manfred looks away, for the first time uncomfortable. ‘We did. But he vanished.’

  ‘Vanished?’

  ‘Into thin air. One moment he was standing there, the next …’

  My mouth falls open. Reichenau … Reichenau the patriot. Another fucking Russian.

  I stand. ‘Forgive me, but I have to go.’

  ‘Go?’ Manfred looks both confused and annoyed. ‘But I haven’t said you could go anywhere.’

  ‘Forgive me, Your Majesty,’ I say and bow. And as I do, so I jump, leaving him staring at the air in shock.

  127

  Hecht, for once, is anxious to see me. He hurries me from the platform to his room, and there, an infinity of space between us and any listening ears, I tell him what I know.

  ‘And that’s it?’ Hecht looks almost as disappointed as Manfred was in me.

  I nod. ‘Gehlen wouldn’t speak. He just wouldn’t cooperate. If I could get in closer to him, make friends with him somehow …’

  Hecht laughs. ‘No one makes friends with Gehlen. Even his wife was a stranger to him.’

  ‘But he has children.’

  ‘Yes, but they die, along with everyone else. What use are they?’

  It’s harsh, but I know what he means. ‘Maybe they’re the key. Maybe if I can get close to them, then I can get close to Gehlen.’

  Hecht sits back, staring at me sceptically. ‘I thought Gudrun was the key.’

  ‘She was, only …’

  ‘Look, Otto, you’re playing blind man’s bluff, and you know it. Your instincts …’ Hecht sighs. ‘There’s something you ought to see. To make you understand why I’m taking you off this case.’

  ‘But …’

  Hecht raises a hand and I fall silent. ‘Just come with me. Back to the platform. I think it’s time you understood something.’

  128

  I stand there, staring about me in awe.

  Bare rock climbs from the green, a half mile and more, into a vividly blue sky, the deepest blue I’ve ever seen, while down here, on the floor of the valley, a crystal-clear stream meanders its way through the lush grass that covers the lower slopes like moss in a bowl.