“It is all a huge facade then,” I observed. “A grand deception.”
”I suppose that in a sense it is,” she admitted, exiting our craft.
A motor car was waiting for us, and a driver dressed in a trim grey uniform opened the door to the machine. Once we were aboard, he drove us through the massive facility.
During this, I observed all manner of people, many of whom were dressed in a wide variety of costumes, or carrying the components of exotic backdrops. It was a veritable beehive of activity, but despite the hubbub, everyone seemed to know where they were going and managed to avoid collisions.
Eventually, we stopped at the doors of a huge edifice labeled “Studio ‘S’”, and Louise led me inside, gesturing to a sign which proclaimed that something called “Suez” was in production.
“They’re just finishing up with it,” she informed me, “It’s a talking film starring Tyrone Power. He’s another actor that you’ll simply have to watch. Very serious and quite handsome.’
“They made the movie at Special Section’s request; apparently, there’s an operation going on in Egypt in the 19th century over in the fifth universe, so it was just the thing. Quite brilliant, don’t you think? Special Section gets everything that it needs and at the same time, the studio makes money on the film.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Brilliant.” This also called “The Thief of Bagdad” into question. Had it been created purely for its entertainment value, I wondered, or in support of some clandestine operation in another time? I did not make any inquiries about this however. I was more interested in our current endeavor.
Louise led me into an area crowded with racks of costumes from every conceivable era, and beyond this to a rather busy-looking man with a tailor’s measuring tape draped around his neck and a cap on his head that was a duplicate of the one that Abraham Weismann had worn.
He was working at a sewing machine on another costume, and when he saw Louise, he smiled, stopped what he was doing and raised his right hand in greeting. His fingers were splayed wide, immediately identifying him as a member of the Fellowship of Aion. Of course, given what Louise had told me about the studio, I was wholly unsurprised.
“Ah Ms. Brookes,” he said, “Good to see you again. I have just the things that you need for your outing.”
He went over to a small worktable and picked up a shoebox, presenting it to her. When she opened it and inspected the contents, her smile mirrored his.
“As always Herschel, perfect,” she told him.
“And now for the costumes,” he announced. Right on cue, a woman came up, pushing a small wheeled rack. It had two dresses on it which were of a style similar to what she was wearing, and I assumed that they were the latest fashion at our final destination.
She handed one to each of us, and then showed us to a pair of small dressing rooms. Once we had changed, and had remerged, we were directed to make-up tables, where she and another assistant proceeded to rearrange our hair and apply cosmetics. While the end result was much different than how I preferred to appear, it was not wholly disagreeable either.
“Ausgezeichnet!” Herschel proclaimed in German. ”You two should fit right in at the Berghof. Oh--and make sure to put one or two in him for me, will you?”
“Of course,” Louise promised. “Don’t I always?”
***
We departed Los Angeles without delay, and after a brief transit through the No-When, reentered the River of Time to come out over a wide, alpine meadow. According to the Phaseship’s instruments, we were still in the year 1938 and the 2nd universe. But now we were in the mountains of Germany, in the region of Bavaria.
“Isn’t this simply lovely?” Louise asked as we set down, and stepped out.
Lovely was an understatement; it was truly breathtaking and were it not for the grim nature of our mission, I would have been utterly content to remain there. The great, grassy expanse commanded a truly stunning view of the mountains surrounding it and the sky overhead was the purest shade of blue imaginable.
It was also dotted with beautiful flowers, not the least of which were the little Edelweiß blossoms.
Of course, I thought. After Louise had mentioned shooting Mr. Hitler, the meaning of the little pistol cartridge had been explained. These blossoms only completed the picture. This was the eighth artifact, made manifest.
“This meadow is a very special place,” Louise told me. “It is one of those rare locations that connects to all the universes at once--a nexus in time and space. We use it all the time for Hitler Day. It makes things rather convenient.”
“Really?” I responded.
“Yes,” Louise answered. “It’s something about corresponding temporal harmonics or the like. Professor Merriweather tried to explain it to me once, but I’m afraid that I got lost in all the mathematics. Quite complicated, you see.”
“I can imagine.”
“You know, I’ve spoken to Mr. Zanuck quite often about this place,” she added, “He’s the head of the studio right now, and I’m proud to say that thanks to my suggestions, it eventually wound up being used by his son Richard for far more than just a temporal node. The studio actually featured it in a delightful little film called “The Sound of Music”’.
“There was one small problem though; it seems that during filming, the sound of the shots being fired in the neighboring universes during Hitler Day bled through. Of course, the studio certainly wasn’t about to offer the public a main theme entitled “The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Gunfire.” Hardly appropriate for a family audience, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Hardly,” I answered.
“So, they replaced the soundtrack once it was ‘in the can’ and the result was completely seamless. You really can’t tell that all that racket was going on at the time, and it showcases what a great actress Julie Andrews was. Despite the temporal echoes, she managed to sing and twirl about as if nothing whatsoever was going on.’
“Of course, the film itself doesn’t stack up against the old silent features, but it is still quite wonderful in its own right. When we get back, you’ll simply have to watch it. I think it’s one of the few talkies that I truly enjoy. That and “My Fair Lady.”
Having no acquaintance with either theatrical production, I merely nodded and reserved my judgement. “So, what is next?” I inquired.
Louise reached into the shoebox and produced a shiny black cube roughly the size of her palm. It was completely featureless save for two brass buttons. “We use this, and pay a call on Mr. Hitler.”
I leaned in and inspected the device, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow. Louise did not allow me to remain ignorant for long.
“Special Section whipped this up to make Hitler Day as easy as possible,” she said. “We just press the first button and it takes us straight to his study in the Berghof. Then, as soon as we’ve finished with our business there, we activate the second one, and come right back here. You see, it’s tuned to this meadows location in space and time.”
I was duly impressed.
“They call it a Node-Dependent Geotemporal Displacement Unit or somesuch,” she continued, “but that is such a mouthful that I just nickname it the ‘Puddle Jumper’. It saves us all the trouble of having to drive or walk to our appointment, or the tedious business of being required to make some daring escape like Douglas Fairbanks. Just in and out. That’s it.”
“Remarkable,” I replied, amazed that something so diminutive could perform such an incredible feat. I also found myself wondering why we even had Phaseships at all. If it did all that she said, this Puddle Jumper seemed to negate the requirement of flying into the No-When altogether. When I voiced my thoughts, she explained the reason for our time-ships.
“It’s only for short hops,” she informed me. “And it doesn’t work unless there’s a node somewhere nearby that it’s attuned to. Quite a pity, that.”
For once, I found myself agreeing with her.
“Well,” she said. “Let’s take c
are of business then.”
She handed me the Puddle Jumper (which I took from her with great care), and reached into her box again. She came out with two additional items; a piece of paper with some handwriting on it, and a rather elegant looking pistol.
“A Walther PPK semi-automatic pistol, “Louise stated. “Chambered for a 7.65mm round. In fact, this is Mr. Hitler’s pistol. One of our agents lifted it off the fellow especially for today.’
“It has an awful history; it was first used by one of his henchmen to murder his lover and niece, Geli Raubal. They covered it up to look like a suicide, but we know better. Then, years later, he used it to take his own life rather than allow himself to be captured. Rather ironic that it’s being used today to kill off some of his incarnations, don’t you think?”
I nodded, sickened by the tale. It only served to darken Hitler’s reputation even further.
“And this is our list”, she stated, referring to the scrap of paper. “It seems that our first stop will be a bit of a letdown for Mr. Hitler.”
Then, “So, shall I do it, or shall you?” She was actually attempting to hand me the weapon, and I made no move to accept it.
“Oh very well then,” she sighed resignedly. “I suppose I’ll have to go first. Really Penny, this happens every time we do Hitler Day. You’re a regular Mrs. Grundy.’
“So, I’ll make you a deal; I go first, you go second, I go third and so on. Whoever bumps off Mr. Hitler has to take a drink, while the other abstains. And if Mr. Goebbels gets it, no one drinks. I think that’s rather fair, don’t you?”
I could hardly believe my ears. “Are you seriously proposing to make this into a drinking game?”
“Why of course,” she answered as if her proposal was a perfectly reasonable one. “It makes the whole affair a lot more fun.”
As she said this, she reached under her skirt and pulled out a flask exactly like the kind that gentlemen carried to fortify themselves on cold evenings. Then, without so much as a jot of shame, she opened it with an expert flip of her thumb and took a sip. Even from where I stood, I could detect the odor of extremely strong spirits. And it was hardly even noon!
“Sure you don’t want a little hootch to give you an edge?” she asked, jiggling it enticingly.
“I should think not,” I responded, tinging my voice with as much disapproval as I could summon up. Naturally, this only made Louise laugh.
“All right then, let’s blouse,” she said, nodding towards the Puddle Jumper.
Grasping her meaning, I pressed the first button, and my stomach lurched as everything around us went black for an instant. Half a heartbeat later, the world reappeared, and I realized that we were standing in a fairly well-appointed study, facing two men who were seated on a couch conversing with one another. Thanks to the holograms that her ship had called up during our flight to the meadow, I knew right away that the man to my left was none other than Adolf Hitler himself, and that the other fellow was his minister, Joseph Goebbels.
Louise did not hesitate for an instant; she raised her pistol with all the steadiness of an expert marksman and shot Mr. Hitler squarely between the eyes. Then, even as Mr. Goebbels cowered and cried out, she nodded to me and I pressed the second button on the Puddle Jumper.
We were back in the meadow once again.
“There. You see?” she said. “Nothing to it. Now, what’s next on the list? And this time it’s your turn.” She was presenting the pistol to me again.
Of course, I refused, but she would have none of it. “Now Penny! Fair is fair. I won’t do all the work. You simply do have to help out. We have a very long day ahead of us.”
Still, I made no move to comply. “Okay,” she finally declared. “I suppose that I’ll have to be the strong one then. Keep ahold of the list, but since it’s really your turn and you are being such a poor sport, I demand that you pay the penalty for your cowardice. Drink up!”
Realizing that she would not be put off, I reluctantly accepted the flask.
“Go on,” she urged. “Bottoms up.”
I obliged her with one small mouthful and discovered that the flask was filled with whisky. It burned its way down my throat and I nearly choked, but it was far better than having custody of the Walther, and in a few seconds, a pleasant warmth began to fill me. At her nod, I pressed the first button and we left the meadow.
The study at the Berghof reappeared, and Louise repeated her performance, executing Hitler and insisting that I take another drink. I obliged her and returned us to the meadow.
Then we were off again.
By our sixth visitation, this time in the 7th Universe, I was beginning to feel somewhat tipsy. So was Louise. Somewhere along the way, she had completely abandoned her own rules and was imbibing right along with me.
“All right,” she declared, her words slightly slurred. “My trigger finger is becoming rather tired. You must take over for the next one.”
Despite my earlier aversion, I found that my resolve had utterly collapsed, and scowling, I took the pistol from her. This time, when we materialized in the study, it was I who pointed the weapon at Mr. Hitler. Still, I hesitated to fire.
“Penny, “she exclaimed impatiently. “Get on with it already!”
Thoroughly irritated by her tone, I discarded any lingering compassion that I might have otherwise possessed for the man in front of me, and squeezed the trigger. The Walther went off, and Mr. Hitler’s brains flew everywhere. It was actually quite easy, I realized.
“Well, it’s about time,” Louise declared, helping herself to another drink from the flask before passing it over to me. “Right! Off to the next stop.”
It went on and on like this, with Louise and I trading off the job of being the executioner. Sometimes, we killed Hitler and sometimes, Goebbels. The whole thing became rather mechanical, and at last, lost all of its horror simply through sheer repetition.
And by the time we reached the very end of the list, which was in the 9th universe, I was also quite inebriated; in fact, it was an effort to keep a steady hand on the Walther. As expected, Hitler and Goebbels were surprised by our sudden appearance, made even more so by the fact that Louise and I were giggling like schoolgirls at the absurdity of the entire endeavor.
“Which one?” I asked her, struggling not to see double.
“I honestly can’t tell,” she told me, chuckling. “I’m so drunk that I’m having trouble reading the list.”
Meanwhile, the two men were in the process of rising and coming towards us, and I knew that someone had to do something before our mission was transformed into a total disaster.
So, I shot them both--and promptly realized that I might have just made a grave mistake.
“Oh bollox!” I exclaimed, “I do hope that I didn’t just ruin everything.”
“My word, Penny! You’re a regular John Dillinger,” Louise exclaimed, laughing even harder.
Then she pressed the second button, and as the device activated, she added. “No worries, my dear. Special Section will send someone along to sort it all out. That’s the lovely thing about time travel. You can always come back and fix your mistakes.”
At that, we departed the scene of the crime, and returned to the meadow and our Phaseship. Thankfully, ‘Betty’, the ships AI, took over from there and flew us back, making certain that we were returned to Nazca in one piece. Which was just as well; I seriously doubt that either of us would have managed that feat in the state that we were in.
Louise being the more experienced drinker, escorted me from the tarmac and prevented me from having any embarrassing accidents. When we reached my rooms at last, she hesitated at the entrance.
“Would you like me to come in?” she asked, “For a nightcap?”
I saw the desire in her eyes, and realized that she wanted me, although, given the fact that we were clones, this should not have surprised me in the least. In addition to sharing physical features, it was plainly evident that we also shared sexual proclivities.
Louise did not take offense at this though, and smiled provocatively. “You really don’t know what you’re missing, Penny. You’ve never had sex until you’ve had it with your clone. I know everything about you. Everything.”
I flushed, and she leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the lips, barely more than a peck, but it was enough to start a fire raging within me.
“Rain check then?” she asked.
Unable to respond, I merely nodded. Her smile widened, and with a suggestive wink, she departed.
***
I was in a wretched state the next morning. Thanks to Louise, I was suffering from what the Italians referred to as postumi della sbornia, the ‘after-death of drunkenness.’ As a result, it took me a bit longer than normal to begin my day.
Thankfully, Edward came to my assistance (having guessed at the kind of experience I had had). He made certain that my breakfast consisted of every cure that he knew of, including a tonic made of sulphate of iron, magnesia, peppermint water and a drop of nutmeg. We also agreed that I could forego the usual Refector session; the previous day was not one I cared to remember.
Because of his compassionate intervention, I was able to make myself ready and report to Captain Meier feeling reasonably human and fit for duty.
You see, I had been loaned out again. Although this time, it was not for Special Section, but to learn a bit more about our squadron’s daily business, specifically the art of time weaving (which Ms. Meier was considered to be an expert at). We left Nazca in Blackbird, while Manfred and Major Sixkiller acted as our escort.
Blackbird: A Warrior of the No-When Page 24