“In my universe, the Jews of Europe left during the Spanish Inquisition and resettled in Palestine,” Meier began. “The Inquisition was a pogrom against my people by the Catholic Church.”
I frowned. In this, my own universe had it right. Religion had no place in human affairs, and only brought sorrow, pain and superstition in its wake. But out of deference to her, I did not voice this opinion, for it was clear from her direct gaze, and the firm manner of her tone, that she cherished her belief system.
“In time, other Jews came and joined the New Israel. And they brought with them all of the skill and knowledge that they had. Europe remained in darkness, while we flourished. My nation eventually grew to cover most of North Africa.”
My eyebrows rose at this. I knew my geography, and was amazed at the extent of the Jewish realm. According to her, it easily rivaled empires like Rome in size, if not power.
“But, as things go, our neighbors eventually became jealous of our prosperity, and by the time I was a young woman, the Syrians had decided to test our resolve.”
“So there was a war?” I asked her. It was becoming clear to me by this point that the Empyrean was not a perfect place by any means, but filled with all of the flaws that I knew of in my small corner of it.
She bobbed her head, her expression grim. “All of the Arab nations came against us, helped by the European powers. We were in a fight for our very life.’
“So work began in Dimona to build the world’s first atomic bomb. And when the Syrians and their allies refused to negotiate a peace, we did what we had to do.”
“What was that?” I already had an idea, but I needed to hear it nonetheless.
She looked away, her expression troubled. “We used it to create a lasting peace. It cost the world Damascus, but it bought our children a future.”
That was when I knew. “You were there.”
“Yes,” she answered, looking me in the eye again. There was an immense darkness in them that was so terrible that I had to fight not to shudder. ”I flew the plane that dropped it.”
For a long moment there was silence in the room. Finally, Major Sixkiller spoke up.
“Well on that happy note, it’s Manfred’s turn. Go ahead Manny, and don’t leave out the Nazi’s.”
“Yes, Manfred,” Ziva interjected, “you would know all about Nazi’s wouldn’t you?”
“I am not a Nazi!” he retorted. “How many times have I told you that? Schiess, woman!”
Sixkiller leaned in, grinning. “Ziva loves to rib him about that,” she told me, “and he always buys it. Don’t fret though, it’s a lover’s thing. The two of ‘em have been an item since their 25th iteration.”
I shook my head in bewilderment, having no idea what a ‘Nazi’ was, or why this term would be deemed so offensive.
Manfred, in the meantime, had regained his composure and cleared his throat to command my attention. “As Herr Doktor informed you, I served in the Imperial German Air Service under Von Richthofen’s command.’
“When Roosevelt decided to send all of his native peoples to the concentration camps and then annexed Mexico and Canada, the Kaiser ordered us to fight alongside the rest of the European nations.’
“We were led by France. They had become involved because of all of the French settlers in Quebec who had been persecuted for refusing to join Roosevelt’s new America. Millions of them died in the camps at the hands of his Nazis.”
Again, I was astounded. Canada a British possession? French speaking people living in Quebec? Concentration camps? It boggled the mind.
“Where were the Russians, sir?” I asked.
Von Knectenberg sneered. “Cowering in Alaska. It was up to us to destroy Roosevelt and his Nazi Schweine. Someone had to stand up to them.”
“So,” Ziva interrupted. “Tell her what a Nazi is.” Manfred frowned, and went on, explaining them in detail.
Listening, I was more appalled by this than by the atomic bomb, and utterly dumbfounded that in one universe the Germans (whom I had always considered to be a highly civilized people) had been taken in by it. Or that in at least three other universes, the same madness had infected other peoples, including the aforementioned Americans.
I was also somewhat confused by their choice of the swastika, which I was informed was emblematic of their ‘cause’. In my universe, it was considered by the Indians and other Asian people to be a sign against evil, and a symbol of cosmic order and ultimate good. Yet, according to my companions, it had been twisted by the Nazis to serve their terrible ideology.
I also learned that the strangest iteration of Nazism had occurred in the 7th universe, where a group known of as the Grammar Nazis had actually persecuted people for their misuse of the English language. While I agreed that correct diction was extremely important, I had never imagined that the semi-colon would become a symbol for tyranny, or the comma an insignia of the Resistance. Now, I could understand why the subject bothered Von Knechtenberg as much as it did, and I thought Ziva’s teasing rather cruel.
“So, if I understand it correctly,” I said, struggling to grasp the concept. “These Nazi’s systematically persecute other people based upon their race, or creed, or mere linguistic ignorance…and then exterminate them?”
“In every universe where they occur, yes,” Hamilket told me. “They are like a disease that travels from one dimension to the next, spreading destruction and death in its wake. But they pale in comparison to the Deviators, who annihilate entire centuries. Trillions have died thanks to their ravages, and only we oppose them.”
“Horrible,” I said. “Utterly horrible.”
Sixkiller pressed a glass into my hand, “Here you go, darlin. Thought you could use this right about now.”
Sniffing, I discovered that it was a rather fine brandy and although it was far too early to imbibe, I did so nonetheless. The soothing effect that it had on my nerves was immediate and I was grateful for it.
“So, now that Manfred has shared some of his story, it is my turn,” Hamilket said. He paused for effect, before beginning.
“What can I say that would do justice to my fair land? In all of the nine universes, there is only one Atlantis. She is a myth in all of the others, and I think she embodies the fondest wishes of those who do not dwell within her. She is the great pearl of the sea, and the shining center of what is finest in mankind.”
“Well now,” Sixkiller drawled. “Ya’ll are just sayin all that ‘cause you ain’t been to Dry Prong or Shongaloo. Now those are some mighty fine places.”
Hamilket smiled tolerantly. “It is true that I am unacquainted with them, and I concede that they are probably both paradises on earth, but I assure you that they do not compare with the glories of the Great City of the Sun or the beauty of the Silvermoon coast.”
“Suit yerself,” Sixkiller retorted.
The Atlantean rewarded her with another patient expression, and continued. “I served in the Golden Skuas, and fought in our war against the Greeks. Mr. Pierce interrupted my military career with a rather unfortunate crash, and I awoke just as you did, finding myself in the service of the Masters.”
Now that I had heard about the Nazi’s and the Deviators, I could understand why he and the others had accepted their involuntary enlistment so readily. Against such monstrous adversaries, it was only logical that soldiers would overlook the circumstances that had brought them into the conflict and concentrate instead on the fight itself. This did not however, explain my involvement.
“I want to thank you all for being so forthright with me,” I said at last. “However I must also admit that I feel somewhat out of place here, for I am no warrior like yourselves. I even told that vile Mr. Pierce as much--not that he cared to listen. The only experience that I have which even comes close to yours are monoplane matches and that sport pales next to your adventures. I simply cannot understand why I have been brought into all this.”
Hamilket chuckled. “Ms. Steele, as you know, you are a clone, and we
have all worked with your duplicates many times in the past. In some cases, you come to us from worlds that are more war-torn than our own, and in others, you do not. But I assure you that you are a very capable fighter, and a pilot, and we are completely comfortable with the idea of counting you as one of our number.”
I gave him an uncertain look, not nearly as confident, although I could not argue with him. “As you say, sir,” I replied.
Hamilket smiled again. “For now, I would like you to spend your time re-orienting yourself. Major Sixkiller will see to your training with the Phaseships, and Professor Merriweather will attend to the rest. Rest assured, that in a very short period of time, you will feel far more self-assured than you do now.’
“And I for one, will look forwards to the conversations that we will soon have in my native tongue. While I admire English greatly, it lacks the complexity and nuances of Atlantean. Please, do not take offense at this.”
“No sir,” I returned. “I fully understand.”
I noted that my companions were beginning to stir, and assuming that our gathering was at an end, I prepared to depart with them. My evening however, had one more surprise in store for me. This was the belated arrival of Hamilket’s Assistant Wing Leader.
After the others, I must confess that I had half-expected to encounter an exotic Asian princess, or someone similarly exceptional. The woman who entered the room completely surpassed my expectations, and yet, proved to be entirely conventional at the same time.
And well she should have, for she was my exact twin, at least as far as her face and figure were concerned. But there the similarity ended--and rather dramatically.
Unlike me, she wore an astonishing amount of makeup and her hair was cut in a sleek pageboy bob. She was also smoking a cigarette through a long stemmed holder, and grinning at us from ear to ear as if this activity were entirely acceptable! I was utterly shocked by her. Clone or no, we definitely hailed from far different universes.
“Daarlings!” she drawled, “so dreadfully sorry. Please do forgive me. My business in the 5th universe delayed my arrival. I daresay, I love her dearly, but as you all know, Wing Leader Khentetka does tend to go on a bit.”
Hamilket smiled warmly. “Louise, have no concerns. You are completely forgiven. How long will you be staying with us this time?”
Louise let out an exaggerated sigh. “Sadly, only for tonight. Then I must return to Shamballa Station. Special Section has some dreary project in mind for me.”
“A pity,” he replied. “But life teaches us to savor what we can, while we can, does it not?” Then he turned to me, “Ms. Steele, allow me to introduce my Assistant Wing Leader, Ms. Louise Brookes, currently on loan to Special Section.”
I realized that this was the same ‘Louise’ that Professor Merriweather had mentioned. Her collar read “2/20”, making her a denizen of the 2nd Universe and the 20th century.
“Penny! Here at last!” she exclaimed “Oh how wonderful. We shall have such great times together, you and I.”
With that, she gathered me into an embrace and planted an impertinent little peck on my cheek! I did not know whether to be touched by this familiarity, or grossly offended.
“Finally we have someone else who can handle that troublesome Mr. Hitler,” she said, releasing me. “I daresay that I have been taking the brunt of it, and so has poor Manfred here, but now we have another blond to take the load off. What a relief!”
I looked to Merriweather, completely dumbfounded.
“Do not worry yourself about that Hitler chap just now,” he advised. “He is just one of those rare people in history that keeps popping up all along the time lines and making a damned nuisance of himself.”
“And nothing consistent either,” Louise complained. “The fellow’s a saint in one universe and a complete devil in another. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to kill him, and then turn right around and save him in the century next door. Wretched little man.”
Of course, none of this made any sense to me at all, but I was glad that whoever this Hitler person was, that I wouldn’t be making his acquaintance any time soon. Pierce was all the devil that I could stand, and I certainly was not ready for another.
“Well enough about Mr. Hitler,” she said. “We shall have to celebrate my visit. I’m inviting everyone to my rooms for movie night. I have a brand new film with Douglas Fairbanks that’s all the rage back in the 2nd Universe, and you simply must drop by to see it.”
I could not help but notice that everyone’s eyes had lit up at this announcement, and I also realized Louise had included me in her invitation. However, I was at a total loss as to exactly what I was being invited to. The term ‘movie’ was utterly foreign to my vocabulary.
For his part, Professor Merriweather was just as excited as the rest. “Marvelous!” he beamed. “Penny, these ‘flickers’ are indisputably one of the greatest inventions that mankind has ever devised. I would be remiss in your education if I did not insist that you come along and experience one for yourself--and this Fairbanks fellow never fails to entertain. Really, I think that you will find it all quite enjoyable.”
“He’s right, Penny,” Major Sixkiller interjected. “Movie night’s not somthin you wanna miss. Besides, it’ll give us the chance to eat some popcorn and have a little fun.”
Popcorn at least, was something that I did recognize. It was available from street vendors and sold at vaudeville theaters in my old universe. While it was not something that someone of my social class normally consumed, I did have some guilty acquaintance with it, having sampled it once or twice on outings with my dear Elizabeth and our friends. It was also quite clear that my companions would not accept any refusal from me.
“Very well,” I agreed. “I shall be pleased to attend.”
“Good!” Sixkiller responded. “You’ll see. It’ll be fun.” Then she lowered her voice and leaned in. “And that Fairbanks is a real hunk. Hell, I could spend all day just watchin that cute little butt of his.”
Naturally, I blushed.
Later that evening, when I arrived at Louise’s rooms, the entire business quickly made itself plain. She had erected a screen at the far end of her drawing room, and her mechanica had set up rows of chairs for us so that we could face it in comfort.
Between them, and pointed towards the screen, was an ingenious machine that the Professor called a projector. Taking a moment to inspect it, I learned that in principle at least, it was similar to the zoetrope, combining motion and multiple images to create the illusion of life.
However, Merriweather explained that the projector accomplished this feat in a far more sophisticated manner; instead of a dozen or so images spinning along the inside of a drum, literally thousands of pictures were involved and they were imprinted on transparent celluloid film.
An internal motor sent this ‘film’ past a light source at a fixed rate, and the image created by that interaction was projected out through a lens into space. I also learned that the screen assisted in this process by providing a clean surface at an optimal distance for the light to fall upon, thus preventing distortion and making it possible for everyone in the room to view the animation simultaneously.
In addition, he informed me that in some universes (Louise’s included), this medium of entertainment had become so popular that vaudeville had been completely abandoned and theaters had been transformed into ‘movie palaces.’
Utterly fascinated, I took my seat wondering what the content of our show was going to be, and why this Douglas Fairbanks person was considered to be so special.
Our ‘movie’ proved to be the “Thief of Baghdad”, and it was accompanied by artificial piano music played through the mechanica’s speaker. Although I found the source irksome, the music was well suited to our entertainment, and perfectly timed. The mechanica had also made a point of stationing itself off in a corner, which made it easy for me to ignore it and concentrate on the performance itself.
And what a performa
nce it was! In just a few minutes, I was utterly enthralled by the exotic settings and enormous cast. I also discovered some of the inspiration for Louise’s loose morality; Fairbanks was an absolute rogue. His character spent all of his time stealing with wild abandon and displaying a total disregard for the rules of society--and yet he was oddly engaging, and even somewhat admirable, if only for his incredible daring.
He was also an extremely handsome man, even if I was a bit shocked by the fact that he ran about with his shirt off and his bare chest exposed. And in so doing, he also managed to puzzle me, for as near as I could tell, he possessed no papilla whatsoever. This lack of nipples eventually bothered me so much that I finally brought the matter up with Major Sixkiller.
“Is he some kind of clone then?” I asked her quietly. Given the fact that none of us had navels, this seemed a perfectly reasonable conclusion.
“Oh no,” she replied. “They just painted over ‘em to keep the censors from bitchen. Trust me, he’s all man.” Satisfied, I resumed watching.
At the end, when Fairbanks managed to rescue the princess, and liberated his city from the Mongols, I must admit that he had managed to redeem himself somewhat, and I went away wondering if his marriage to the Caliph’s daughter would do something to improve his character. Given his licentiousness though, this did not seem highly likely.
As for the experience itself, I was as Sixkiller termed it, ‘hooked’. Movies had turned out to be just as wonderful and immersive as Professor Merriweather had advertised, and I found myself looking forwards to another movie night (although I did hope that the next ‘flicker’ that I watched would feature a more morally uplifting theme).
***
True to her word, Louise was gone the next day, which was somewhat of a relief. Although I had many questions for her about her life as a clone, I had discovered that I found her personality to be rather wearing. She was far too outgoing and too dissimilar in nature for my liking, however much we might have resembled one another.
Blackbird: A Warrior of the No-When Page 15