The Cross-Time Road Trip

Fascinating story Chris, I truly enjoy your work. Please keep it coming...

 

Chapter Twelve<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



“Ouch,” Kit said, twenty minutes later. “Did they have to beat us?”



“Well, you maybe,” Erica muttered. The Nazis had searched them, removedeverything they’d been carrying even down to their belts, and then thrown theminto a cell. In the process, they’d hitanyone who showed any signs of resistance. “The bastards could have given lessons to a TSA ****er.”



Bruno rubbed the side of his cheek, where one of theguards had struck him. “And now we’re injail, again,” he said, sourly. “Do youthink they’d be interested in breeding stock again?”



Kit snorted. “They’dtake one look at you and send you to the death camps,” he said. “When they find out about me...they’d send meto join you. That leaves GBW and Ericaand only Erica is blonde enough to attract the attention of Nazi supermen...”



“We killed Hitler, remember?” Erica snapped. The thought of being courted by a Nazi versionof Duke was sickening. “I doubt thatthey’d let us off the charge purely because I look blonde.”



“Yeah,” Kit said. He made a show of glancing around the cell. “Do you think we actually killed Hitler,or...?”



“Hitler was old enough to fight in the First World War,”GBW pointed out. “That means he musthave been at least sixteen in 1914, which suggests that if Hitler was stillalive today he’d be over a hundred years old. I think we must have squashed the wrong guy.”



“Unless we’re moving in time as well as space and across alternatetimelines,” Bruno said. “We could be in1941 right now, with the German armies poised to invade Russia and Churchillgiving them the finger from the other side of the English Channel.”



Erica shook her head, looking around the cellherself. It was nothing more than bareconcrete walls, with a bench at one end that might have passed for a bed, ifthe occupants were sufficiently desperate. The only source of light was a single bulb hanging down from theceiling, well out of reach. Sheentertained fantasies of turning it into a laser beam for a long moment, beforereminding herself that that only worked in bad science-fiction movies. The door seemed to be made of iron, withhinges so solid that they would need an arc welder to cut through them and takedown the door. Their captors had removedeverything they’d been carrying, even the cell phones they might have been ableto use to pick up on any local wireless signals – if there were wireless signals. Brunowas right. They could be movingbackwards in time as well as everything else. And that meant that they’d just changed history.



“If we killed him,” she said, out loud, “what’s going tohappen to Germany?”



Kit smiled. “Dependson where and when we are,” he said. “Ifwe’re in 1941 Germany probably won’t invade Russia. God alone knows who would take over from himif he died – Goring or Himmler, perhaps. But if we’re in 1945...Hitler’s death won’t save Germany from ingloriousdefeat and occupation.”



“And if we’re in some alternate version of Nazi Germany,like the one the Graf Zeppelin camefrom, all bets are off,” Bruno added. “Theycould have taken the entire world before we dropped in and squashed Hitler.”



Erica froze as she heard the sound of footsteps marchingtowards their cell. Someone outside wasbarking orders in a thick accent, one that reminded her of old war movies. There was a click from the door, which openedslowly to reveal a pair of blonde men wearing black uniforms. They were the very picture of Aryan manhood,just as Hitler and Himmler had dreamed. Blonde hair, blue eyes...and muscles on their muscles. Their uniforms were tight enough to show offtheir perfect physical condition. Ericafelt a hot flash of attraction she had to fight down. These men would have been raised from birthby the Nazis, steeped in racial theories that would have been proven in thistimeline...they couldn't be trusted to be anything, but perfect Nazis.



“You, girl,” they said. “You will come with us.”



“Oh, very manly,” Kit sneered. He puffed out his chest. “You want to take me instead? I know much more than she does...”



The lead Nazi grabbed Erica’s arm and pulled her out ofthe cell, ignoring Kit’s sally. He wasastonishingly strong, perhaps even stronger than the Navy SEAL who’d been oneof her father’s friends back when she’d been a child. Erica had seen him carry an astonishingamount of weight while walking up hills and the Nazis seemed stronger...? She eyed the tight uniform around their groinand made a mental note to make sure that she hit that spot first, if she had tofight. Even the strongest of men couldn'tfight after being punched in the groin.



Outside, they dragged her through a tunnel network thatfinally came up into the open air. Berlin – she assumed they were in Berlin, at least until provenotherwise – was a polluted city; the air was thick with the stench of hydrocarbons,suggesting that every German drove a car. Nazi guards were everywhere, some wearing black uniforms with silverlightning bolts, others wearing brown uniforms that looked simpler, moredesigned for everyday use. Her escorthauled her to an armoured car and shoved her into the backseat, closing andlocking the door behind her. It wasclearly designed to transport prisoners; it was impossible to reach forward andstrangle the driver, even with her hands free. She'd wondered why they hadn't bothered to cuff her – looking at them,it struck her that they were overconfident. Perhaps it was something she could use to her advantage...



But even if she escaped, where could she go?



The car roared to life and headed out the gate, escortedby a pair of black-uniformed men on motorcycles. Berlin was jammed with traffic, but theescort cleared them a path through the streets with ease. Fear seemed to hang in the air like a shroud,a mocking reminder that freedom and democracy no longer existed in thisworld. Erica saw patrolling policemenand the way that people recoiled from their presence, as if they were wolveshunting for prey. A gaggle of shackledmen were working on the road, watched by guards holding whips and canes. The men and women walking past them spat, oryelled insults at the prisoners. Perhapsthey felt that their lives were better, if there was someone else below them.



She caught sight of a line of schoolchildren andshivered. The boys looked as if theywere put through rigorous exercises every day. There were no fatties among them and only a handful wore glasses. Many of the kids had a hardness in their facethat chilled Erica to the bone, a sense that they’d been shaped into what Nazi Germanywanted them to be. The girls wore plaitsand long dresses, looking away from the boys. None of the children couldn't be more than nine years old.



Midwich Cuckoos,she thought, and shivered again.



There were more and more soldiers on the street as theydrove up towards a gothic building, looming over the surrounding city. The car stopped at a checkpoint and herescort exchanged papers with the guards, before driving into a large courtyardand parking outside the door. Theystepped outside, had a second chat with the interior guards, and then openedErica’s door. She tried to climb outherself, in the hopes that they wouldn't feel the urge to manhandle her thistime, but they took her arms anyway. Ifthere were so many guards on the street, maybe they felt insecure – maybe someoneout there was trying to fight back. Ormaybe the Nazi elite were preparing for a leadership contest and flexing theirmuscles in the hopes of intimidating their rivals.



The interior of the building was warmer than she hadexpected, and almost empty. Her guardsmuscled her past a series of checkpoints and down a long corridor decoratedwith paintings of German military heroes. None of them were familiar to her, apart from a series of idealisedpaintings of Adolf Hitler in the trenches and – later – addressing hisstormtroopers. One painting showed himwearing a black cross; another showed him standing next to a red-haired girlwith a shy smile. The Fuhrer looked overbearing; maybe it washer imagination, but the girl seemed almost reluctant to stand next tohim. Her guards pulled her onwardsbefore she could ask who the girl was, or what she’d meant to Hitler. They reached a final checkpoint, spokebriefly to yet another set of guards, and then thrust her through adoorway. She’d expected anothercell. Instead, she found herself in acomfortable office.



“Come on in,” a voice said. He was speaking English, Erica realised inshock. The translation implants shouldhave had them speaking German. “Welcometo my world.”



Erica looked up at the speaker. He was a tall thin youth, barely seventeenyears old. The uniform he wore seemedill-tailored for his form, as if the designer had expected someone of far moreheroic proportions. There was somethingin his smile that disturbed Erica at a very primal level. She couldn't have put the feeling into words,but part of her mind insisted that there was danger in the room. The way he was looking at her certainlysuggested more than passing interest in her presence.



“You killed Hitler,” the youth said. “After all the trouble I went to ensure thathe lived a longer life, you appear out of nowhere and kill him. Most inconvenient,I must say.”



“I’m dreadfully sorry,” Erica said, sarcastically. The consequences might be death by slowtorture, and the Nazis taking apart the RV to see how it worked, but she foundit hard to feel guilty over killing Hitler. “Who the hell are you?”



“Call me the General,” the youth said. He walked over to a curtain hanging againstthe wall and pulled it back with a flourish. “What do you think of my world?”



There wasn't a window, but a map showing the entireworld. Erica stepped closer, unable toquite believe her eyes. Over two-thirdsof the map was drenched in bright red, symbolising Nazi invasion andoccupation. Europe, Russia, Africa andNorth America were stamped with black swastikas – Washington was marked with asymbol she had no difficulty in recognising as a nuclear detonation. The rising sun – denoting Japanese possessions– dominated the Far East. Australia,China and India were part of a vast Japanese Empire. They’d even swallowed up the Russian FarEast.



“There aren't that many regimes left willing to standagainst our might,” the General said. Heleered down at her. “South Africa wasdelighted to work with us to expand its territory on the continent – they tookin thousands of refugees from England after the island fell in 1940. Argentina is shifting our way, as is Mexico –it helps that they never liked the Americans anyway. Now that the United States has beencrushed...”



Erica looked at him, sharply. “You’re not from here, are you?” She asked. “You’re just as much a stranger to this timeline as we are.”



“So you are froma different timeline,” the General said. He smiled at her, unpleasantly. “Ifyou’re here to stop me, it’s far too late. Nazi Germany has acquired a historical inertia that will be impossibleto stop. In a few more years, we’ll goto war against the Japanese and take their empire from them. And then the entire world will belong to Germany.”



His smile grew wider. “Isn't that really cool?”



“No,” Erica said, flatly. “You came here from the future – an alternate future – to help theNazis. Why in the name of God Almightywould you do that?”



“I’d be careful about mentioning God Almighty these days,”the General said, wryly. “Now everyonewho wants to be someone worships Odin and Thor. The SS was always as much a religious cult as a fighting arm – now,there are human sacrifices before meetings and prayers offered every evening tothe gods.”



Erica shook her head. “But why?”



The General smiled. “Because it was really cool,”he said, again. “I used to thrill to thestories of German soldiers storming the world, admiring their talent for wareven though they lost – do you know, right up to the end of the war, they werestill inflicting casualties in a ratio of about three to one, theirfavour? They had the best uniforms andthe coolest weapons! How could anyonenot want them to win?”



She couldn't find the words, but the General spokeonwards. It was clear that he’d neverhad a chance to gloat properly before to someone who might really understandwhat he’d done. He didn't seem tounderstand, or care, that helping Hitler would have meant mass slaughter on ascale unimaginable to anyone who wasn’t already a megalomaniac. In Erica’s home timeline, they’d killedupwards of six million people justfor being Jews. If they’d actually wonthe war, they might have exterminated the entire Jewish race – and then theywould have started on the Muslims and Hindus. She looked up at the map again and shivered. The Nazi icons covering the Middle East,where Saudi Arabia and Iraq had been in their home world, symbolised agraveyard. They would have enslaved orexterminated the entire population.



“I took a few items of technology back with me, when theyoffered me the chance to visit Germany and make some changes,” the Generalsaid. “Hitler was already in poor health– I gave him a booster shot that should have ensured him at least anotherhundred years of life, before you squashed him flat. That made him listen to me – and the rest ofthe trinkets I’d brought convinced the rest of his men. By 1939, we were ready for war – we sweptinto Poland, just as history said, and crushed the Poles with ease. The French, cowardly to a man, did nothing tostop us.



“The real changes came when we invaded France,” hecontinued. “We crushed the French anddefeated the British Army at Dunkirk. Before they could rebuild, we invaded Britain in late 1940 and tookLondon – Churchill went down fighting, but Oswald Mosley agreed to run the BritishEmpire for us. Without the need to fightbeside the Italians – we sat on Mussolini from Day One – we lunged into Russia inearly 1941. Stalin was killed by astrike team on the day of the invasion, leaving the Russians leaderless. We took Moscow before the winter snowssettled in and then Baku and Stalingrad in 1942.”



Erica rubbed the side of her head as he spoke. “The Japanese got oil from us, so they didn’tneed to go to war against the Americans,” he added. “That allowed us to put together the firstnukes and strike them in 1950. After Washingtonwent up in smoke, the United States surrendered to us – plenty of Americans stilltried to hold out, but we hunted them all down over the years...”



“And you’re proud of what you’ve done?” Erica demanded. Anger was overriding her common sense. “Do you know how many people have died inyour war?”



“But they’re just numbers,” the General said. He seemed honestly perplexed by herquestion. “Don’t you understand what Ihave achieved here? I have created aworld empire...”



“Everyone that the Nazis don’t like is either dead orearmarked for the gas chambers,” Erica said, flatly. “Didn't you ever bother to consider what thatmeant? You took the Germans through Russia and theMiddle East and Africa – how many people lived there before you invaded? How many of the original population are stillalive?”



“They weren't doing anything with it,” the Generalsaid. “We built roads and railways anddeveloped the land. Hitler was keen onmass settlement of European Russia – he used to hand out land to his favoured soldiers,men who had fought and bled to make the land German. The original occupants...”



“Are dead or enslaved,” Erica snapped. “Don't you understand what you’ve unleashedon this world?”



“Don’t you understand what I’ve done?” The Generalcountered. “I have taken a small countryand made it the master of the world. Theseas are German, the skies above are German, the orbital fortifications are German...theyown the world, because of me. I broughtthem the technology and the foresight they needed to win the war. This world is my legacy and I am not going tolet any interfering buzzards prevent me from building my empire.”



Erica threw herself at him, her hands reaching for hisneck. She barely reached him beforesomeone crashed into her from behind. The guard slammed her to the ground, landing on top of her. For a terrible moment, Erica thought that herback was broken, before the guard rolled her over and pulled her back onto herfeet. Her entire body seemed to achewith pain.



“You won’t put my empire back into the box,” the Generalsaid.



“Now what?” Ericarasped. Her mouth hurt and she couldtaste blood. “You’re going to have mekilled, along with my friends? You wantto give the order in person?”



The General hesitated, just long enough for the guard tospeak. “We have orders to take her tothe Reichsführer after you hadfinished with her,” he said. “With yourpermission, Herr General, I wouldlike to take her now.”



“Of course, of course,” the General said, almost as if hehad already forgotten Erica’s attempt on his life. “Mustn’t annoy the Reichsführer. Take her withyou and go.”



Erica opened her mouth, intending to ask him what hewould do now that Hitler was dead, but her escort clamped a hand over her facebefore she could speak, pulling her towards the door. She allowed herself to go limp, forcing themto half-carry her, thinking hard. Theywere trapped in a world where the Nazis had won the war...



...And try as she might, she could see no way out.

 

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><font size="3">Chapter Thirteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com
Heinrich Himmler, in a movie Erica had watched as achild, had been played by a blonde actor who had been the very personificationof Nazi evil. His every word had drippedmalice and the young Erica had been terrified of him. The realHimmler was something of a disappointment. He was a short ratty man, his brown-gray hair fading away, wearing apair of gold-rimmed spectacles, behind which his eyes darted about constantly. Erica got the impression that he was nervous,even before he opened his mouth. Onehand was constantly tapping away at his heavy wooden desk.

He studied Erica thoughtfully, his eyes flickering allover her body. Erica looked back at him,and then around Himmler’s colossal office. It was decorated with art treasures that had been looted from across theworld, with a heavy Norse theme; one painting showed a red-haired man holding ahammer, another showing a maiden holding a basket of apples. Erica, who had only seen the Marvel Comicsversion of Thor, took several minutes to identify the thunder god. There was something utterly unforgiving inthe painted god’s gaze. She looked backat Himmler, and then up at the heavy golden eagle behind his desk. The golden sculpture looked as if it was onthe verge of pouncing on Himmler.

“Well,” Himmler said, finally. “Where and when do you come from?”

Erica hesitated, surprised that he’d made the deductionthat they came from an alternate world. But then he’d met the General and knew where he’d obtained his insightinto the future. The concept ofalternate worlds would be no surprise to him. Erica wondered, absently, what he would think if he ever heard about acountry called Israel, before realising that in his timeline, Israel and Palestinewould be drenched in blood.

“We’re just passing through,” Erica said. Maybe they could convince Himmler to let themgo...no, that wasn't going to happen. They’d killed his idol, Hitler himself. “We didn't mean to come here.”

“But it was our good fortune that you did,” Himmlersaid. His lips grew into a smile that didn'tmeet his eyes. “The gods have blessedour conquest of this world, my dear. Andnow they have sent you to us, to allow us to reach other worlds. We are truly blessed.”

Erica wanted to ask if he truly believed what he wassaying, but something held her back. “Youhave already been found guilty of assassinating our beloved Fuhrer,” Himmler continued. “Your guilt has been established beyond alldoubt. If you do not assist us inunlocking the secrets of your transport, we will be forced to carry out the sentenceand you will be executed.”

“I see,” Erica said, finally. “Don’t we get a trial?”

“You have already been tried,” Himmler said. He paused, significantly. “And you had your appeal. You have been found guilty of assassinatingthe leader of our nation, a man who led us against the world and brought itunder the heel of the Master Race. Thelasting success of his life resides in us, his heirs and his empire. We have crushed all resistance to our ruleand enslaved the sub-humans who have held back the Aryan Race forcenturies. The Jewish plague has beeneliminated. Their concepts of freedomand democracy – a form of servitude to Jewish bankers – have been removed fromthe world. How great are the blessingsof the gods?”

Erica stared at him, unnerved by a single horrifyingrealisation. Himmler believed every wordhe was saying. Maybe he was mad, by anynormal standard, but he believed his own propaganda. The gods might be a figment of hisimagination, yet he believed in them and his belief gave him...if not courage,a determination to carry out Hitler’s final plans.

“We already make process at eradicating their taint,”Himmler continued. “In the great castlesof my order” – he meant the SS, Erica realised – “the Master Race is beingforged, tempered and prepared to inherit the world. Children born of carefully-selected unions betweenpure Aryans will come forth and multiply, inhabiting the farms and cities thatwe will produce for them. They will ruleover the sub-humans until the sub-humans are no more.”

He leaned forward. “But the Fuhrer is dead,” hesaid. “I must see his dream come to fruition. I must be the new Fuhrer. And yet theyquestion my right to succeed the great visionary who created our world! I am his chosen heir and yet they quibble!”

Erica hesitated. Readingbetween the lines, she guessed that some of Hitler’s other subordinates – who weresane, or at least saner – had balked at the thought of Himmler taking ultimatepower for himself. She couldn't reallyblame them. If Himmler had alreadystarted trying to shape the growth of the Master Race, God alone knew whatwould happen when it bore his image. Howlong would it be before ordinary Germans were sent to the death camps by Himmler’schosen few?

“I need access to your technology,” Himmler said. “The General was Hitler’s blessing from thegods. You are mine. Give us the technology and you will live along and comfortable life here. I willeven find you a stallion who will give you children who will become part of theMaster Race...”

“I don’t want children,” Erica said.

“It is the duty of every German woman to assist inbearing the next generation of Germans,” Himmler said, shocked. “I would even overlook the question of yourgenetic heritage. How can you refusesuch a honour?”

Erica gathered herself. “We will not assist you to invade other worlds,” she said, flatly. She wondered how Himmler would react to opendefiance. Not well, she suspected. Himmler had been absolute master of the SSfor so long that few would dare to defy him openly. Only Hitler could have kept him on a leash –and Hitler was dead. “You can take yourstallion and...”

“Very well,” Himmler said, cutting her off. “There will be a sacrifice in the Great Hallin five hours, a honour to the gods.” His eyes met hers. “It is customaryfor the chosen one to be a virgin, a girl who has never known man. I do trust that you are qualified?”

Erica blushed, furiously. “But it is of no matter,” Himmler continued. “You killed the Fuhrer. Your death willavenge him and your soul will go to serve him for all eternity.”

Before Erica could say anything else, she was marched outof the office and through a twisting maze of corridors. She tried to struggle, only to discover thather guards were too strong to escape. They held her arms tightly as they left the building and walked over toa smaller building, right at the edge of the wall. Inside, there were four blonde-haired womenwearing outfits that reminded of swimming costumes, but made out of gold andsilver. Their bare arms seemed to ripplewith muscles. Erica’s guards bowed low,pushed Erica towards the women, and then left, leaving her alone with theAmazons.

Erica had no time to say anything before the womengrabbed her. She flinched as she saw asilver knife, before one of the women started to saw away at her clothes. Jeans and shirt fell to the ground, followedby her panties and bra. She yelped andtried to cover herself, but the women slapped her hands away and poked and proddedat her body. One finger touched betweenher legs and she yelped again.

She found her voice. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing that is not sanctified may enter the temple,”one of the women said. “Your clotheshave been polluted. You must be cleansed.”

She reached to her shoulder and pulled at a strap. Her metal costume fell to the ground,revealing breasts large and firm enough to make Erica feel inadequate. The other women followed suit, two of themtaking hold of Erica’s arms and pulling her forwards towards a sealeddoor. It opened, revealing a shower ofwater pouring down from somewhere high overhead. It was freezing cold, forcing Erica to squeezeher eyes shut as the water washed over her body. The women pushed out further into thepassageway, paddling through a pit of cold water before entering anotherchamber. There was nothing inside, apartfrom an examination table. Before Erica couldobject, two of the women lifted her up and placed her down on the cold metalsurface. A third woman pulled her leftarm back and pushed a razor against her skin. Erica held herself as still as she could, despite the humiliation, asthey removed all of her hair below her neck.

A fourth woman started work on her hair, running herfingers through it. “You should havegrown it longer,” she said, as she worked. Erica wanted to yell and curse at her, but she suspected that it wouldbe useless. “Short hair is not becomingin a woman who is going to the gods.”

“But I don’t want to go to the gods,” Erica said. Two more women had gone to work on her feet, clippingher nails. By the time they were finished,she realised, they’d have made her look spectacular – just right for thegods. “We’re just visiting this world.”

“And yet you will be honoured by going to the gods,” thelead woman said. Like Himmler, shesounded as if she believed every word she said. “It is a truly great honour to take a place within the assemblage ofheroes, serving the men who have died in glorious combat. Odin himself will allow you into Valhalla.”

“But...” Shestopped. Further protest would beuseless. “If you wanted the honour, whynot go feed the gods yourself?”

The woman looked shocked. “But I am a servant of the gods on the mortal plain,” she said. “I may not go feed the gods until I haveborne and raised two male children, or I will not be welcome in their halls.”

Erica tried to find the words to explain to her thatHimmler had created their religion from a half-remembered collection of Norselegends, but it would be useless. Thewomen would be all fanatics. Theirbeliefs couldn't be challenged with logic and reason because they weren't based in logic and reason. She looked down at herself and shivered. They’d removed her hair, cut her nails...whatnext?

They helped her to her feet and led her over to a pool ofwater, inviting her to step down into the bath. Erica hesitated, remembering the cold water shower, and then put onefoot in the water. It was pleasantlywarm, bubbling slightly from jets of air pumped into the bottom, and she had nodifficulty in immersing herself in the water. Two of the women climbed in beside her and started to scrub her body,while a third started to wash her hair. Objectionswere useless. They rubbed away at heruntil they were removing layers of dirt that Erica hadn't known she had. Her entire body felt as if it had beenscraped raw. The warm hands movingthrough her hair were almost relaxing, although she couldn't forget what layahead. They were going to sacrifice herto the gods...

Sheer terror gripped her and she found herself tensingup. One of the women caught hold of herand hugged her tightly, murmuring nonsense about how it would soon be over andthat the gods would welcome her into their fold. The others helped her out of the pool andstarted to dry her down with a towel, wiping all the water off her body. Erica caught sight of herself in the mirrorand almost didn't recognise the frightened girl looking back at her. She was tempted to offer to go back toHimmler, to tell him about the device and about GBW’s knowledge, but somehowshe held herself silent. The Nazis couldn'tbe allowed to invade other timelines, even if it cost them their lives.

We should havestayed with Abdul, she thought, as the women dressed her in a simple whitedress. It was nearly translucent, enoughto make her blush as she caught sight of her nipples pressing against thematerial. One of the women started to doup her hair, while two others checked her hands and feet. Finally, they took her hands and tied themlightly behind her back with a golden rope. Erica started to struggle and one of the women pinched her, hard. It was enough to ensure that she couldn't escapeeasily.

The women donned their own dresses as she watched. Unlike hers, theirs were all-enfolding,concealing everything they had behind heavy black material. Their perfect bodies became almost shapelessonce they pulled up the hoods, allowing only traces of their blonde hair todangle down around their heads. Everyonewould be looking at Erica, she realised in horror – the outfit they’d made herwear made her look naked. She lookedback in the mirror and shivered, before drawing herself upright. If she was going to go to her death, shewould go with her head held high.

They escorted her into the next chamber, which held atable and a golden goblet. One of thewomen picked up the goblet and pressed it to Erica’s lips. The red liquid inside tasted vaguely like communionwine, but there was a flavour inside that made her feel dizzy and unwell. They’d drugged her, she realised in horror,as it started to take effect. Her feardrained away, as did her resolve. They wouldn'thave to force her to lie down on the altar. Drugged as she was, she’d go willingly. Her sense of time started to fade away, leaving her feeling unsure ofhow long it had been since they’d arrived on the Nazi world.

In the distance, she could hear the sound ofchanting. The implant in her headrefused to make sense of it, which suggested that it wasn't really alanguage. It sounded as if hundreds ofmen were speaking nonsense, rapping it out in a pattern that echoed back andforth across the building. The soundgrew louder, just as her escorts moved to each side of her and started helpingher towards the door. Her legs seemed toslip into motion of their own accord and she walked forward, barely aware of theirguiding hands. She felt as if she waswatching herself from overhead, as if the person walking into the massivechamber wasn’t really her. It was thedrug, she knew, and yet...it was impossible to care.

The chamber was a giant church; no, a parody of what achurch should be. Nazi banners hung fromthe ceiling, calling her attention towards the altar at the head of theroom. She felt almost as if she waswalking up the aisle to get married, aware of the attention she was getting fromthe hundreds of black-uniformed men who were chanting in unison. At the head of the room, she saw her friends,staring at her. They were yelling andshouting, but she couldn't respond. Partof her mind knew that she was in serious danger, yet the drug kept her incheck. She just kept moving towards thealtar.

A man wearing a long black robe appeared from the side ofthe building as Erica reached the altar. His gaze flickered over her body, lingering on her breasts, before hestepped back and nodded to her escorts, who prodded Erica back intomotion. Climbing up on the altar was impossiblein her drugged state, but they picked her up and placed her down on the stone. Strong hands freed the cord around herwrists, allowing her to lie flat on her back. Inside, she was screaming at her body, trying to get it to move...andyet none of her panic seemed quite real. The drug would keep her docile long enough for the priest to end herlife.

The chanting slowly came to a stop as the priest raisedone hand in the Nazi salute. Momentslater, the audience returned it, hundreds of men shouting Heil Hitler as loudly as they could. The entire building seemed to shake under theimpact. Even the sound of GBW and Brunoyelling at the guards was drowned out. Silencefell slowly; the sound of her friends was cut off sharply. The guards, she realised, had silenced them,maybe by cutting their throats. Itshould have bothered her, but the drug seemed to have drained all feeling awayfrom her. Her body felt slow and stupid,almost as if there was no longer any feeling inside.

“We are the Master Race,” the priest said. He spoke softly, but his voice echoed across theentire chamber. No one dared to disagreewith him. “We are the Masters of theWorld. We are the ones who have tamedthe world and brought it under our control. We are blessed by the gods – and in return, we send them the life andsoul of a virgin who has never known man.”

“Stop,” she heard GBW yelling. He sounded on the verge of panic, yet it didn'tbother her. She seemed to be driftingaway from the world. “We’ll doanything...”

His voice cut off and there was a grunt of pain. She watched, without feeling anything, as thepriest raised a stone knife in the air. Hewas chanting out loud, invoking the blessings of Odin, Thor and Balder upon hisact – and upon the Master Race. Ericasaw the knife lifted up above her chest, as if he was about to plunge it intoher heart...and then he stopped. Somethingwas wrong...very wrong. There was asound echoing in the chamber... A momentlater, he toppled over backwards, crying out in pain.

In her drugged state, it took her several minutes torealise that he'd been shot.

 

Chapter Fourteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



GBW had watched in horror as the Nazis prepared tosacrifice Erica.



They’d been pulled out of their cell only an hour afterErica had been taken away and brought to the hideous church. None of them had known what to expect,although given that it was a Nazi regime it was certain to be brutal and thoroughlyunpleasant. The sight of Erica in atranslucent white dress that concerned nothing had been a surprise, but thedrugged look in her eye and her hesitant progress towards the alter had beenhorrifying. They intended to sacrificeher to their gods!



“Let her go, damn you,” he’d yelled, struggling againstthe chains that bound them firmly to the chair. Escape was impossible. The Nazishad had plenty of experience in restraining people. “We’ll tell you anything, just let her go!”



But nothing had worked, right up until the moment thedark-robed priest had been shot. GBWwatched in disbelief as he toppled over backwards, blood spilling from a holein his head, and hit the ground with a sickening thud. The Nazi stormtroopers in the audience – all wearingblack SS uniforms, spun around to see a set of brown-shirted soldiers burstinginto their temple. Two of them heldsubmachine guns, which they used to hose down the audience before they coulddraw their weapons and fire back. GBWcould only cringe back into his chair as great bursts of fire raked through theNazis, leaving their bleeding and broken bodies falling to the floor. The sight was so terrifying that he almostblacked out, despite the otherworldly knowledge in his head.



Someone ran past them, up to the altar, and scooped Ericaup into his arms. Two more started workon the chains binding GBW and his friends to their chairs, releasing them andbeckoning for them to come with their rescuers. There was no way of knowing whose side the newcomers were on, or if theyshould be on the same side as the newcomers, but at least they’d saved Erica’slife. Kit picked up one of the abandonedrifles, glanced around as through daring anyone to object, and then followedthe newcomers. GBW hesitated, picked upa rifle himself, and then brought up the rear. Past the altar, there was another chamber of horrors. A handful of bodies, their throats cut withcold professionalism, lay on the floor. They all wore black uniforms, apart from one who appeared to benaked. His body was covered in lightningrune tattoos. GBW didn't even want to think about what that might have meant.



One of their rescuers barked out something in German. Kit understood through his implant andmotioned for GBW to follow them out through the gate and into the outsideworld. The sound of gunfire andexplosions seemed to be all around them, as if the Nazi city had turned into awarzone. A car was waiting for them,driven by yet another of the brown-suited troopers; their rescuers helped thedazed Erica to climb inside and then pushed Kit and Bruno in after her. GBW hesitated, looking up at the pervertedchurch, and then followed them into the car. As soon as the door was shut, the driver gunned the engine and roaredaway from the church.



Berlin – if it was Berlin – seemed to be in chaos. He caught sight of groups of soldiers snipingat each other, with a handful of lightly-armoured vehicles trying to back themup, buildings on fire, burning merrily with no one trying to stop them – and acomplete absence of civilians. Thecivilian population probably wasn't allowed anywhere near the Nazi complex, butif they were they’d had the sense to go to ground. Or maybe they’d been caught in the openingblows of the conflict. He could see deadbodies scattered all over the area.



He shivered inwardly as the car made it away from thescene without incident. Two days ago –depending on how time actually ran in the alternate worlds – he had never seena dead body. Unlike Kit, he’d neveractually considered joining the military; he’d never really considered himselfa fighter. And yet he’d seen a worldthat was completely dead and another covered with kidnapped aircraft carriersand populated by mad scientists. Thedeath in Berlin seemed to leave him cold. It bothered him that he felt so little. They were Nazis – and some of them had intended to kill Erica – but theywere still human. He should have feltsomething...



...But there was nothing in his soul. No sorrow at the death, no unholy delight atseeing so many Nazis slain by their opponents...not even pity for the ones whohad been misled by their leaders and deceived into believing their absurdracial theories. Had he seen so muchdeath that he’d become used to it, or was the knowledge Doctor What had dumpedinto his brain somehow affecting his mind? Doctor What hadn't been even remotely concerned with the vast number ofhumans who might be killed if his insane scheme had worked. Maybe he hadn't been so demented until he'd startedabsorbing knowledge from the monolith himself.



Or maybe he wasalways cracked, GBW thought, and glanced over at Bruno. If Doctor What had cracked, he remindedhimself again, Bruno could do the same.



The car screeched to a halt and their escort piled outside,opening the doors and beckoning the travellers to follow them. They were outside a massive brick building,decorated with golden eagles and surrounded by heavily-armed soldiers. The sound of gunfire could be heard echoingover the city, followed by several explosions. It seemed to have no rhyme or reason, but GBW suspected that it mustalways seem that way to people caught up in the chaos. Any overall plan would only be understood bythe commanding officers, not the grunts on the ground or the helpless civiliansin the way. The Nazis had never beenknown for worrying about civilian casualties.



Kit caught his arm and pulled him up the steps and intothe building. Inside, there were more soldiers,including a number carrying what looked like rocket launchers and heavy machineguns. It looked as if they expected a siege,or as if they were about to go out and engage the enemy. GBW wondered, again, just who had saved theirlives, before realising that none of the soldiers wore the SS runes. They might just have been rescued by the GermanArmy...or maybe they were the air force. Some of the men wore what looked like pilot’s wings on theirshoulders.



They entered a medical room, where the soldier carryingErica put her down on a small table. GBWfound himself staring at her – the white dress concealed nothing – and lookedaway, embarrassed. The medic clucked andchatted away in German, before putting a needle to her shoulder and injectingher with something. Kit and Bruno seemedunworried, but GBW couldn't understand a word they were saying. The medic watched as Erica’s eyes flutteredopen and she looked up at him, and then down at her chest. GBW pulled at Bruno and they both turnedtheir backs, allowing her to don a heavy overcoat to conceal herself.



“I...” Erica stillsounded woozy. “Thank you for therescue.”



“You’re welcome,” the soldier who had carried her said,in oddly-accented English. “It was ourpleasure to take out a nest of blackshirts. I’m afraid that too many good officers and men have embraced the unholypleasures they have introduced to create their Master Race.”



“It was to prevent them from creating a...replacementrace that we intervened,” another voice said. It too spoke English, although there was no noticeable accent. “Now that Hitler is dead, there will be a struggleto determine who succeeds him. Himmlercannot be allowed to become the next Fuhrer.”



GBW looked up. Athin-faced man, slowly going bald on top, had come into the room without him noticing. Judging from the amount of medals on hischest, he was a senior officer, perhaps even a General. GBW wasn't sure why he’d want to wear hismedals in what was definitely a combat zone, unless it was to remind his men ofwho and what he was. Maybe it would havebeen more impressive if he’d known what the medals actually represented. In a Nazi worlds, they could have been foreverything from mass slaughter of Jews to a few hundred hours of KP. Hadn’t the Nazis offered medals and rewardsto women who had borne more than four children?



“I won’t disagree with that,” Kit said. He sounded oddly cheerful. “You think you have it bad now – I’m afraidit will be much worse under Himmler.”



“I am General Hans Frank,” the newcomer said. “If the young lady is fit to walk” – he glancedat Erica in an almost paternal fashion – “perhaps you would care to join me inmy office. There is much that we mustdiscuss.”



“I can walk,” Erica said, weakly. “What did they hit me with?”



“Something that came out of the jungles of South America,”the medic said. “It weakens resistance –makes the subject highly suggestible and largely incapable of resistance.”



“Hey,” Bruno said, “when I say the word Fred, you willcluck like a chicken.”



Erica elbowed him as she pulled herself to her feet. “Very funny,” she said. “You’re not the one who almost got sacrificedto Monster of the Week.”



“But you looked great in that dress,” Bruno said. “I’m sure the monster felt honoured...”



Frank cleared his throat. “If you would all come with me?”



GBW wasn't sure what he’d expected a General’s office tolook like. It turned out to be a large roomwith a desk, a table, and an entire shelf of telephones. The table was covered in maps of Berlin, witha small team of staff moving icons about as the news came in from runners orradio operators. To his inexperienced eyes,it looked as if the German Army was holding the suburbs while the SS was stillfirmly dug into the centre of Berlin. Hetried to remember what he could about the SS, but most of what he knew camefrom reading a novel where the SS had been rejuvenated to fight an alieninvasion. They weren't just Hitler’senforcers, if he recalled correctly; they’d been a small army in their ownright. The contest with the German Armycould still go either way.



“Too many people are sitting on their hands, unwilling tocommit to either side,” Frank said, as his aide poured glasses of whisky. “The Navy is trying to stay out of thefighting – apart from a couple of battalions of Naval Infantry holding thedocks, most of it is staying in the barracks or in the ships. We took out a number of SS detachments whenwe launched our operation, but much of their strength is in the east. Given time, Himmler can bring up heavy reinforcements– probably recruits from the settlers in the east too. They have always been very loyal to Himmlerand his men.”



Kit frowned. “Why wouldthey be loyal to the SS?”



“It’s been fifty years since we crushed the Communistsand turned Russia into living space for the German people,” Frankexplained. “And yet there are stillfrequent attacks on settlements within the zone. The SS has always taken the lead in huntingdown and executing the terrorists – the settlers love the SS men. You can't even look at a wench withoutrealising that she’s already done her duty by a dozen SS men.”



He shook his head. “The balance is alarmingly even at the moment,” he added. “Not every officer was willing to commithimself, so we don’t have as many troops or tanks as I would prefer. The air force seems to have decided to staygrounded, but both of us have some access to our own aircraft. Given a few weeks, we could both mobilise hundredsof thousands of soldiers, but by then we’d be looking at all-out civil war.”



GBW took a sip of his whisky. It tasted better than he remembered, but thenhe’d been a child the last time he’d tasted the Scottish drink. “And civil war would be devastating for your Reich,” he said. “All the people you crushed might startlooking for freedom.”



“Quite,” Frank agreed, without irony. “Which leads to the important question – are youconnected to the General and can you help us remove him from power?”



“The General?” Bruno asked. “Which General?”



“Someone who managed to get back in time and help Hitlerwin the war,” Erica said, with a sneer. “Hethinks that a Nazi Empire would be really cool. I think Hitler must have treated him as akind of lucky charm – I don't know what Himmler will make of him.”



“Himmler’s...religion, for want of a better word, has theGeneral as a messenger from the gods,” Frank said. “If he knows the future...can he be defeated?”



“I don’t see why not,” Bruno said. “If he came from our timeline, what he knowsis already useless – history has changed completely. He’ll be struggling in the dark, just as weare.”



“No more advance knowledge,” Frank said, with heavysatisfaction. “But...we won the war.”



“I don’t understand,” GBW said. “Didn't you want to win the war?”



“We took on the entire world,” Frank said. “And we never lost – we never even suffered amajor defeat. It’s why Himmler’sreligion was so popular when he finally took it out of the shadows andintroduced it to the population. Thethought of Germany being blessed by the gods...”



“I bet the Pope loved that,” Erica said.



“The Pope was forced to become a spokesperson for Hitlerin 1947,” Frank said. “Ever since then,his replacements have always been very favourable to Hitler – they evenreleased Catholics who wanted to start worshipping the old gods.”



He shook his head. “Can you help us defeat Himmler before the civil war spreads out ofcontrol?”



“I don’t see how,” Erica admitted, after a longmoment. “We don’t have any weapons or technologythat might tip the balance in our favour – in your favour. If we could getback to the RV, we might be able to do something...”



“Maybe,” Bruno said. “How is Himmler coordinating his SS teams?”



“Through the computer network,” Frank said. “He bought more technology from the Japanese thananyone was allowed to do and used it to give the SS an advantage over itsopponents. Every single citizen isregistered now, with their activities monitored by computer programs and...hehas the entire population under his supervision.”



“I bet the General suggested it,” Erica said. “Big Brother is watching you and all thatcrap. I wonder if George Orwell everwrote in this timeline.”



“But we’d have to gain direct access to their mainframe,”Frank said, ignoring the comment about Orwell. GBW suspected that the Nazis would have killed the writer of Animal Farm and 1984 if they’d ever caught him. Orwell had been an anti-fascist as much as an anti-communist. “That’s secure in the SS buildings – and evenif we did gain access, we’d not have the ability to use it. Those techs he has operating it are fanatics.”



“I bet that Bruno and Kit could hack into the system,” GBWsaid. “And then we shut it down – or getthem firing at each other. That shouldconfuse them long enough to let your men mop them up. What will they do without Himmler?”



“Die,” Frank said. GBW shivered. Frank might seemgenial, and he’d had the moral courage to oppose Himmler, but he was a Nazi General. One way or the other, they had to get out ofthe Nazi timeline before they were sent to the death camps. “We can wipe them out before they have achance to react. With us in control of Berlin,the Navy and Air Force will fall in line. And then what remains of the SS will be crushed if they keep fighting.”



“I hope you’re right,” Bruno said. “All of which raises one question – how arewe going to get into the building?”



“Leave that to me and my men,” Frank said. He nodded to Erica. “You rest and prepare yourself for the comingoperation. I’ll start planning theoperation to get you into the building.”



He walked away, leaving them standing around his desk –with a pair of aides in earshot. GBW couldn'tsay anything, knowing that it would get back to Frank. The others – even Bruno – seemed to have hadthe same thought. They couldn't speakfreely. They’d been dragged into the middleof a civil war where one side was only marginally preferable to the otherside. Absently, GBW looked up at the mapsomeone had placed on the wall. Theentire Northern Hemisphere was stained with red, marking Nazi-held territory. America, Canada, Britain, France, Italy,Turkey, Russia...he shook his head. Surely the Nazis couldn't hold so much territory forever. There had to be a resistance movement in eachand every one of those countries. Andyet...who knew what would have happened after fifty years of occupation, ofslaughter and enslavement and blonde children being taken from their parents tobe raised by Nazi parents? Might theindependence of the United States have been compromised forever?



Frank strode back towards them after only seven minutes. “We have a plan,” he said. He nodded to a pair of men wearing urbancombat outfits. “While we launch adiversion up top, Hans and Fritz will escort you through the sewers and intothe tunnel network. You have to takethat network down, or the SS will rally and flush you back out of the system.”



“We’ll need the tools in the RV,” Bruno said. “Do you know what Himmler has done with it?”



“It’s in his stronghold,” Frank said. “We’ll get you in – you have to do the rest.”



And, GBW added,silently, get into the RV and get out ofhere.

 

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><font size="3">Chapter Fifteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com


“Do you really think that this is going to work?”



“I think that there isn't much choice in the matter,” Kitanswered, as they donned the uniforms General Frank’s men had provided. Erica found climbing into hers a struggle –the Nazi regime obviously hadn't seen the wisdom of designing uniforms forwearers with breasts. The clumsy belt didn'tmake it any easier. “If Himmler wins, heand the General get the world – and the RV.”



“Which gives them the multiverse,” Bruno commented. He looked remarkably silly in his uniform,with a gas mask dangling down from his neck. “I can't see the Nazis sitting on their butts if there’s a prospect offinding a way to access other universes and invade.”



Erica nodded. “Besides,”Bruno added, “crawling through the sewers has a long and honourable history. Doctor Who did it all the time.”



“Doctor Who had a patriotic scriptwriter,” GBW pointedout, sarcastically. “In this world,patriotism is a Nazi concept.”



“I don’t think he was all that patriotic,” Brunosaid. Erica realised that he was tryingto distract himself and nodded in understanding. “But we can get in through the sewers.”



Hans stuck his head into the changing room. “If you’re ready to go,” he said, in German, “weneed to be off.”



“Coming,” Erica said. Both Hans and Fritz seemed more human than the SS stormtroopers she’dmet, yet there was something about them that disturbed her. They’d been trained as Special Forces soldiersby a regime that cared nothing for civilian casualties. Erica couldn't help, but think that theymight have been given some special orders by their superiors – such aspreventing the travellers from jumping into their RV and vanishing. “Are you ready to go?”



Hans grinned at her. “I was born ready,” he said. “You’lllove the sewers. It's just like cominghome.”



Once they were ready, he led them to a hatch in theground and tugged it open, revealing a ladder reaching down into the depths ofthe earth. “They expanded the tunnelnetwork greatly since the development of the atomic bomb,” Fritz said, as Hansstarted to climb down the ladder into the darkness. The flashlight dangling at his belt seemed toonly provide glimpses of what was waiting for them down there. “Everyone was scared that the Americans wouldwin the race to build nuclear rockets and fire them at Berlin – and then webeat the Americans, so they abandoned most of the tunnel network. The Japanese aren't likely to get into anuclear war with us.”



Until the time isright, Erica thought, remembering Himmler – and the General’s insane planfor a Nazi Empire. The Japanese wereracially impure, according to Nazi ideals; it wouldn't be that long before theystarted pressing against the Japanese Empire, forcing the Japanese to eitherfight or surrender. There was no way toknow how the balance of power would work in this universe, but if the Germans hadcaptured most of America’s industrial might, they’d have a colossaladvantage. The Japanese might becrushed, unless they threatened mutual destruction with nuclear weapons.



Hans reached the bottom and flashed his lightaround. “It seems quiet,” he said, hisvoice echoing oddly back up the shaft. “Comedown here, one at a time. Hurry!”



Erica reached for the ladder and started down theshaft. The rungs felt cold and unpleasantunder her fingers; the concrete walls seemed to be closing in on her,threatening to crush the life from her body. It was just an illusion, she told herself asshe scrambled down as fast as she could, but she still yelped in shock when shefelt hands touching her back. Hanssmiled at her expression and motioned for her to stay against the wall. Ahead of her, a tiny walkway led into thedistance, with a massive river of sewage running past their position and intothe darkness. The stench was unbelievable. It seemed to pervade the air, even reaching throughthe gas mask she hastily raised to her mouth. The air had to be carrying millions upon millions of germs, each one deadlyto an unprotected human. She told herselffirmly that there was no danger, as long as they didn't fall into the sewage,but her body refused to believe her. Itwas all she could do to remain pressed against the wall.



“Yuk,” Bruno said, as he reached the bottom rung. He looked rather green around the gills inthe half-light. Erica reached for herown flashlight and switched it on. For amoment, she thought she caught sight of a dead body floating in the sewage,before she looked away sharply. She didn'twant to know what was floating beside them, only half a metre from theirposition. “I don’t think I want to goswimming in that, you know.”



“Shut up,” Erica said. The tunnels were getting to her – and they hadn't even started. What if their flashlights ran out ofpower? Or if they did fall in...thesides looked so slippery that she doubted they could climb out againafterwards. “I want to get out of here.”



Fritz gave her a look that suggested that he knewperfectly well that she couldn't hack it, the sort of look she’d had from a fewof her father’s more old-fashioned friends. They’d seen women as people to be protected, not to be allowed to takepart in commando raids – they’d certainly not been in favour of women joiningthe army. The Nazis were probably evenworse about it. She’d seen only onewoman in General Frank’s headquarters, wearing a dress that concealedeverything and an expression that suggested that she was permanently harassedby the men. And she remembered GeneralFrank’s comment about women in the east...



“Let’s go,” she said, instead of surrendering to her fearand trying to climb back up to the hatch. It had already been closed behind them. “Which way do we go?”



Hans slipped past her – his body brushing against hersfor a long moment – and started to walk down the tunnel. “This way,” he said. “It should intersect with the bunkers underthe Reichstag soon, allowing us tobreak in. The General sent a recon teamdown earlier and they confirmed that it was clear up to the barrier.”



Erica followed him, grimly aware of the sound of her ownheartbeat echoing in her ears. Thetunnels were eerily quiet, apart from the omnipresent lapping of water from theriver of sewage, but she thought she could hear noises from overhead. Berlin was at war; General Franks hadpromised a major offensive, aimed at forcing the SS to deploy their reserves tohold back the army. The muffled thudsand crashes they could hear had to be explosions on the surface. It struck her, suddenly, that the tunnelnetwork could collapse if a bomb went off at the wrong place, the thoughtalmost freezing her in place until GBW nudged her from behind.



Something moved throughthe water and she jumped, almost slipping and sliding into the riverherself. It seemed almost like an alligator,but that was impossible...wasn’t it? What could live down in the tunnels on raw sewage? Perhaps a Nazi had brought baby alligators homefrom America or Africa and put them down the sewers when they grew too big tohandle. There was no way to know forsure.



“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,” Bruno announced. “They breathed in radioactive waste from somechemical experiment and mutated into a human form.”



Fritz snorted from his position at the rear. “What are you babbling about?” He demanded. “There’s no such thing.”



Erica listened as Bruno tried to explain, although Fritz didn'tseem to understand and talked instead about Shylock the Jew, a character in aseries of animated cartoons produced by the Third Reich. Shylock was a deviousmoney-counting bastard, permanently out to corrupt German manhood and molest Germanwomanhood. Erica remembered some of the originalBugs Bunny cartoons produced during the war – with their depictions of Japaneseand German characters – and felt a flicker of sympathy for Fritz. What would he have become if he’d beenexposed to such programs for his entire childhood? He’d probably never met a Jew.



The thought made her shudder. Countless generations would be raisedbelieving that the Holocaust had been good and right; hell, their theorieswould have been proved, because Nazi Germany had won the war. How long would it be before someone – anyone –dared to raise their voice and ask why so many had been killed? The thought of what would become of any childraised in such a poisonous atmosphere was terrifying. It was a total moral inversion, a mockingreflection of their own world. How closehad Hitler come to victory in their timeline?



Hans paused as they reached a gate. “Keep quiet,” he hissed, as he produced a setof tools and went to work on the lock. “Theymight hear us from now on.”



The gate clicked open, revealing a concrete corridor thatstretched into the distance, illuminated by uncovered bulbs dangling fromoverhead. Erica switched off herflashlight as Hans led the way into the corridor, closing the gate behindthem. Her nose had reluctantly grownaccustomed to the stench from the sewers, but it seemed likely that anywandering SS personnel would be able to smell them from twenty paces. The stench had probably worked its way so thoroughlyinto the uniforms they wore that they’d never be able to get it out. General Frank and his men would probably haveto burn them...



Fritz slipped past her, weapon in hand, as they reachedthe first door. Hans glanced inside, andthen relaxed; the room was empty. Aboiling kettle sat on one stove, a newspaper lay on the table – and a dozenhard wooden bunks were empty. The guardswho normally slept down under the building would have been called to thesurface, if everything had gone according to plan. Hans slipped inside, removed the kettle fromthe stove, and then rejoined them. Ericasaw the look that passed between the two officers and smiled to herself. Hans had probably been worried that a boilingkettle would attract attention.



They paused, outside a second gate. This one was unlocked, but it led right into theinner heart of Himmler’s organisation in Berlin. Frank had muttered about him holding castlesas bases, yet Berlin was the centre of everything. They couldn't afford to allow Himmler toremain in control for a moment longer than absolutely necessary. Hans held up a hand, motioning them back, andthen drew a knife from his sleeve. Almost before Erica realised what had happened, he threw back the gate,lunged forward, and cut a sentry’s throat. Fritz followed him, knife in hand, and took out the second man. They had had no time to raise the alarmbefore they died.



Bruno looked shocked. “You killed...”



“Quiet,” Hanshissed.



“There’ll be a great deal more killing done before thisis over,” Fritz said, sourly. “Keep backand let us handle it.”



Hans nodded and led the way down the corridor, leavingthe two bodies behind. The pool of bloodfrom their throats would certainly be noticed the moment someone stumbled acrossthem – they had to move quickly now. Andyet the complex seemed almost deserted. The only person they encountered was swiftly killed by the two menbefore they could raise the alarm. Sheheard the sound of more explosions in the distance, above ground, andsmiled. It was clear that General Frankswas pushing the offensive as hard as he dared.



“Here,” Hans said, pulling his rifle from hisshoulders. “Ahead of us is the nervecentre of everything – the heart of the SS. Get ready to follow us.”



He and Fritz ran forward. There were four guards outside the chamber, each one armed to the teethand wearing the black uniforms that marked the SS. Erica saw one of them raising his rifle,before Hans and Fritz opened fire, cutting the guards down before they couldfire in response. The hatch started toclose, but the two men threw their weight against it, allowing Erica to leadthe way inside. A small group oftechnical specialists stumbled to their feet, only to freeze when they saw theweapons. They didn't look like theMaster Race, part of Erica’s mind noted with grim amusement. The SS clearly lowered the entry requirementsfor people with the right kind of skills.



“If any of you cooperate, your lives will be spared,”Hans said, eying the technicians. Therewas a pause, and then they all looked away. Erica wondered if they were really fanatics, or if they merely expectedthat Himmler would win the civil war and wanted to be on the right side. Coming to think of it, she asked herself,where was Himmler? “Right...”



He aimed his gun at the lead technician. “No,” Erica said, before she could stopherself. “There's been enough killing.”



“They’re SS,” Fritz snapped. “Do you think that they would have sparedyou, if you have fallen into their hands?”



“They tried to sacrifice me to Odin,” Erica reminded him,tartly. “I'm not going to kill peoplebecause it’s convenient.” She found herself looking for anotherargument. The Nazi stormtroopers weretrained to kill without mercy. “GeneralFrank will need these people in the future, to help him take control of the Reich. You kill them now and he won’t be able to take control.”



“Tie them up and gag them,” Hans ordered, after a tensemoment. Erica knew that she couldn't havestopped the two men if they’d wanted to kill all the technicians. “You two – get to work on the computers andsee if you can unlock them. If not, wedestroy them and start running.”



Erica carefully tied up the technicians while Hanscovered them and Fritz closed the hatch. It looked as though it was made of solid metal, without any other way inor out of the chamber. Even the air wassupplied separately from the rest of the underground network. Himmler could have held out in the bunker fordays, if not weeks. A quick checkrevealed a vast store of food, enough to feed them for months. The Nazi elite hadn't taken chances. There were guns, ammunition and medicalsupplies.



She looked over at Bruno as he typed away on the Japanesemachine. It looked surprisingly primitive,compared to what the Japanese produced in their timeline, but in the Nazi worldthe Japanese had never lost the war against the United States. All of their best engineers and designerswould be going into producing military technology, rather than consumer goodsand civilian computers. The United Stateshad allowed the Japanese to corner the market on civilian electronics for yearsbecause it had been focused on winning the Cold War.



“Good thing they didn't have time to lock it,” Brunosaid, as he worked. “Much of thecomputer logic here is primitive – I cut my teeth on it back when I was a kid. I wonder if the General didn't give them somehints. Some of the programming here isvery like early stuff from...”



“Never mind the details,” Hans snapped. “Can you take down the network?”



“Easily,” Bruno said. Beside him, Kit nodded in agreement. “I think that I can start ordering some of the SS units to attack otherunits – supply false coordinates to their aircraft, that sort of thing. I think they’ve locked out the telephone network,but I can probably unlock it...”



He nodded towards one of the telephones. “Do you want to try and give General Frank acall?”



Hans smiled as he dialled the number. “This is Schmitt,” he said, once the General’soffice had picked up the call. “We’re inthe bunker – do you have specific orders for us?”



He started to issue orders to Bruno, who tapped them intothe computer. It was hard to tell whatwas going on using the primitive machines, but the General’s aide sounded veryhappy with progress. Erica jumped as sheheard the sound of someone – more likely something – banging away at the hatch,trying to break down the door and burst into the chamber. It hadn't taken long for the SS to realisewhat was going on, but it would take them some time to force their wayinside. The hatch looked strong enoughto stand up to anything short of a tank.



The banging faded away as General Frank’s soldiers burstinto the complex. Hans relayed the newsthat the German soldiers had secured most of the Reichstag, leaving them fairly safe from SS goons. There was no sign of Himmler, or theGeneral. Erica guessed that they’d triedto flee overland to another SS stronghold, but there was no way to know for sure. Once they’d realised that their computersystems were compromised, the SS had stopped using them. The sudden lost of coordination had cost themtheir chance of victory.



Hans opened the hatch, allowing General Frank and a teamof bodyguards to enter the chamber. Helooked pleased, although Erica thought she detected a trace of worry on hisface. The fact they hadn't caughtHimmler had to bother him. As long asHimmler remained on the loose, he could rally support...



The telephone rang. Erica picked it up. “Hello?”



“Hello, my dear,” Himmler’s voice said. Erica froze. Where the hell was he? “I assumethat I have you and your friends to thank for the lost of my computer network?”



He sounded as calm as if he were discussing theweather. “You’ll be pleased to know, I’msure, that I and my friend the General have an atomic bomb. If you don’t use your technology to get usout of this timeline, we will detonate it. And all of Berlin will die in fire.”

 

If you like this story, please consider buying and/or reviewing my latest Kindle ebook - Storming Heaven.

Chris

 

Love the story and about half way through storming heaven greeat read too

 

Chapter Sixteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



“That is Himmler?”



Erica nodded. General Frank took the phone from her. “Himmler, this is Frank,” he said. “Your hold is broken. If you giveup...”



“...There will be a show trial and I will be executed,”Himmler’s voice said. “I know how itworks, Mein General. I’ve certainly done it often enough. No, I want them to take me out of this world –or the entire city will be destroyed.”



General Frank covered the mouthpiece with one hand. “Can you take him out of here?”



Bruno hesitated, but finally nodded. “It should be possible,” he said. “You’d certainly never need to see him again,or the General.”



“Very well,” General Frank said. “Himmler, we agree to your terms. Tell us where you are and we’ll arrange foryour departure.”



“Me?” Himmlerproduced a chuckle that was somehow the most unsettling sound he’d made. “Why, I’m in the garage – with theGeneral. Why don’t you send our friendsin to see to our departure? You mightwant to keep armed soldiers back – we wouldn’t want any unfortunate incidents,would we?”



“No,” General Frank agreed. “On the other hand, we would certainly wantto make sure you didn't set the nuke to explode just after you left.”



Kit and Erica exchanged glances. “We could take the nuke with us,” Ericasuggested. “Maybe we can disarm itpermanently once we’re away from here.”



“Maybe,” Kit said. “Or maybe they didn't think to build in anything to prevent detonation.”



General Frank smiled. “You can take the nuke with you,” he said. “I’ll have them sent over to you at once.”



He put down the phone and smiled at Erica. “I’d hate to suggest that anyone might wantto take him out of here, instead of making him stand trial for his crimes,but...”



“You want to be rid of him and his nuke,” GBW said,shortly. “I suppose that if we have thenuke with us Himmler will have a reasonable motive not to set it off.”



“Depends on where we end up,” Erica reminded him. “We might end up in a world dominated by theJews.”



“This world was dominated by the Jews until Hitler broketheir power,” General Frank said, mildly. “They are not capable of resisting an open assault on the systems theyuse to maintain their control.”



Erica stared at him. The General had stood up to Himmler and his SS – and yet he still boughtinto much of the Nazi propaganda. Evenif he secured control of the rest of the Reich without further delay, oropposition, things weren’t likely to improve. The Nazis would continue to crush those they considered inferior, settlelands that had been cleansed of their former inhabitants and ensure that therewas no hope of freedom for anyone, even the Germans themselves. The sooner they were out of the Nazi world,the better. Maybe the population wouldeventually rise up against their masters, but there would be a long and bloodystruggle before they won – if they won – and they might not produce anythingbetter.



“We’ll take Himmler out of here,” Erica said,shortly. “I wish you luck with your planto take control of the Reich. Maybe youcan start introducing democracy. It’sthe only thing that might save your empire.”



General Frank ignored her, studying a chart of thecomplex. “Himmler must have taken yourodd vehicle to the garage,” he said, slowly. “They’d already deployed the armoured cars they kept there, so we didn'tbother to target it when we stormed the building. I’d send in scouts, but Himmler might seethem and trigger the nuke...”



“Good thinking,” Erica said. She picked up some of the weapons that hadbeen stored in the command centre, passing them and some ammunition to theguys. “We’ll go down there now and thenget Himmler out of your hair.”



The Nazi-designed weapons felt heavy on her shoulders asthey walked down towards the garage. Parts of the building had been devastated by the fighting, with thebloody remains of SS troopers and German soldiers lying where they hadfallen. The walls were chipped withbullet marks, small checkpoints shattered by grenades as the soldiers foughttheir way into the building. It was clearthat the SS hadn't given up, even when they’d lost their control system andHimmler had deserted them. They’d beenraised from birth to believe in the Reich, even though their leader hadn't livedup to his own standards. Erica wasn't toosurprised. Every charismatic fanatic –from Hitler to Bin Laden – had been a filthy hypocrite, living the high lifewhile their followers fought and died on their behalf. Bin Laden had never carried out a suicidebombing in his life, despite promising his followers that it was a quick way toheaven; Hitler had killed himself rather than face the consequences of hisactions, at least in their home timeline. Who knew what would have happened if Hitler had been captured and put ontrial?



They turned a corner and came face-to-face with a pair ofSS troopers holding submachine guns. Erica braced herself – there was something pitiless in their faces –before they waved them onwards without a single world. Himmler must have left them to make sure thatGeneral Frank hadn't planned any nasty surprises, intending to leave thembehind when he and the General rode the RV out of the Nazi world. Erica gritted her teeth at the thought, promisingherself that Himmler would pay for his crimes. Maybe she’d just shoot him herself once they’d jumped away from the Naziworld and disarmed the nuke. After he’dtried to have her sacrificed to the gods, she found it hard to have any realsympathy for him.



Maybe that’s whatdrives the General, she thought, sourly. The Nazis had killed over six million people in her world before they’dbeen defeated, a death toll so large as to be beyond comprehension. How could anyone grasp how many people they’dmurdered? If a million deaths were a statistic, six million were unbelievable. It was easy to see why holocaust deniersmight come to believe that it had never happened, or people like the Generalwould see them as nothing more than numbers, ink on a page. They weren't quite real.



Kit held up a hand as they reached the garage, weapon inhand. Erica waited as he steppedforward, and then beckoned them forward. The RV sat alone in the midst of a chamber built for a small army of vehicles,with Himmler standing by the open door. Given time, the Nazis would probably have taken the RV apart to find outhow it worked – although they probably wouldn't have been able to make anysense of the device. The rest of thecomputer equipment was at least ten years ahead of anything the Nazis had, orthat they’d obtained from the Japanese. There was probably nothing new about the RVitself, but the computer tech would have given the Germans yet anotheradvantage, if they’d managed to reverse-engineer it. Bruno and Kit could probably have pointedthem in the right direction. And theNazis would have had no hesitation about holding their feet to the fire to makethem talk.



“Ah, young lady,” Himmler said, emerging from behind theRV. Erica wasn't sure if he’d thoughtthat the RV was bullet-proof, or if he’d just been lurking there. The General followed him, his eyes flickeringaround nervously. His game, Ericarealised, had just become real. GeneralFrank would probably have dispatched assassins with orders to assassinateHimmler’s lucky charm, even if his knowledge was now largely worthless. “I trust that you are ready to take me out ofhere?”



Erica gritted her teeth at his tone. He still believed that he was in charge, eventhough a slight twitch on his cheek suggested that he knew how close he was todeath. Suicide, even taking the entirecity with him, wasn’t in his nature. Erica briefly considered calling General Frank to seize him, beforerealising that they couldn't take the risk. Berlin might be a Nazi city, but most of the population wasinnocent. And yet they’d been steeped inNazi propaganda from birth...she pushed the thought aside, angrily. They couldn't make those judgements. No human could hope to judge such a case.



“Once the nuke has been disarmed,” Kit said, flatly. He stepped over towards Himmler, who held upone hand. A metal bracelet ran aroundhis wrist, connected by a set of wires to the backpack he was wearing. The nuke had to be in the backpack, Ericarealised; Himmler had rigged up a dead man’s switch. If he died, the nuke would detonate. “We’ll take you out of here and you’ll befree to go.”



“And me,” the General said. He no longer sounded as confident as Ericarecalled. The boy who’d thought that theNazis were really cool had had alesson in what Nazi rule actually meant. Or maybe it was less than that. He might have faced personal danger for the first time in his life. “I want you to take me home.”



“Interesting,” Bruno observed, cheerfully. “You altered time. Does your home still exist, do youthink? You might have killed your owngrandparents during the war.”



“But then I would have vanished,” the Generalprotested. His voice was wobblingalarmingly, as if he was on the verge of bursting into tears. “If my grandparents died, my parents wouldnever have been born and then they would have been unable to give birth tome...”



“Ah,” Bruno said, “but if you didn't exist, yourgrandparents would not have died, and therefore your parents would have been able to give birth toyou.” He chuckled. “There must be a reality where you came fromand a separate reality that you created, when you came back in time to alterhistory. How did you get back in time,by the way?”



The General hesitated. “I was offered the chance to go,” he said, finally. “He looked human, but I don’t think he wasreally a man. I think that...”



Himmler cleared his throat. “As interesting as this discussion is,” hesaid, “I think you’re forgetting that the reason you’re here is to providetransportation out of this world.” Hestepped aside, waving towards the RV’s door. “Please, enter. The junk weconfiscated from you is inside, waiting for you to take it back.”



He caught hold of Erica’s arm as Kit headed towards thedoor. “I’d prefer to keep one of yououtside the vehicle until we’re all inside,” he added. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, youunderstand...”



Kit glared at him, and then opened the door. A small stack of computer equipment fell out,suggesting that the Nazis had searched the RV thoroughly before abandoning itin their garage. Bruno swore out loud asa smashed laptop hit the ground, picking it up and cradling it lovingly. Erica felt a flicker of fear as Himmler’sgrip tightened. The Nazis might havesmashed the device they’d found, the one that allowed them to jump from worldto world. And if they had...they wouldbe trapped. She found herselfconsidering ways to get the nuke away from Himmler, finding it impossible tothink of anything that might not detonate the bomb. There was no way to know how Himmler hadprogrammed the device, or what codes were needed to disarm it. In the movies, the hero would cut one of thewires...someone, Erica doubted that it would be that easy.



“There should be enough space for us all,” Kit said,finally. He shot Himmler a bitter stareas he poked his head back out of the hatch. “General...”



He shrugged. “We can'tkeep calling you the General,” he said. “What’syour name?”



“I'm the General,” the General said. The stubbornpride in his voice was mixed with fear. “Itook that name the day I came here and I never looked back. My old name is a legacy of the past.”



“The past catches up with you, no matter what you do,”Kit said. “I once gave a blowjob to a friendin college. The bastard later threatenedto report me as a practicing homosexual to the military recruiting office. And he had the nerve to say that it wasn't avery good blowjob!”



Himmler stared at him. “Am I to understand that you...like men?”



Kit grinned. “I love them,” he said. “And I have a sixth sense for spotting othergay men. I could tell that some of yourstormtroopers were homosexual...”



“Lies,” Himmlersaid. “Sex is fit only forreproduction! The true SS man onlymingles with girls of the highest racial pedigree...”



“I shouldn't worry about homosexuals reproducing,” Kitinjected, mockingly. “A man becomingpregnant would be in defiance of all nature.” He looked over at the General. “Whatis your name, kid?”



The General hesitated, and then lowered his eyes. “Cecil,” he admitted. “My mother named me after my great-uncle...”



“And I bet you never forgave her,” Bruno said. “Cecil...with a name like that, you werebound to grow up into an internet troll. Or a serial killer. Which Isuppose you have been...”



“I’ve killed no one,” Cecil objected. “I’m innocent...”



“Millions of people are dead because of you,” Ericasnapped. She’d tried to tell him before,but this time maybe he would listen. “They’redead – the fact you didn't kill them personally is no excuse. You are responsible for their deaths.”



“They were all impure,” Himmler said, flatly. “Or they died gloriously in the service ofthe Reich.”



“And you, the coward, are running away instead of tryingto fight back,” Erica said. She gaspedin pain as Himmler tightened his grip on her arm. “Oh, how very brave – threatening to murderan entire city if you don’t get away.”



“And you will take me out of here, now,” Himmlersaid. He sounded as if he was rapidlylosing his cool. He’d had supreme poweronly a day ago, under Hitler, but now he was running for his life. How quickly things changed. “Or General Frank will do something stupidand the entire world will go away in a blinding flash.”



“True,” Kit agreed. “Cecil – get up here and get into the front seat. Don’t touch anything or I’ll personally beatyour ass until it’s a red as a stop sign.”



“Always knew that you were into the perverted stuff,”Bruno muttered, as Cecil shuffled past him and climbed into the RV. From his gasp, Erica guessed that the kid hadbeen expecting the TARDIS, rather than a cramped RV stuffed with computergear. “GBW, you get in next – take thewheel and prepare to start the engine.”



Erica smiled as GBW boarded the RV. If they were lucky, Himmler and Cecil wouldn'tconnect the device with the key to jumping through alternate timelines. Bruno followed, hunching over so he could fitinto one corner, and then motioned for Himmler to follow him. He pulled Erica along, never letting go ofher wrist, even when he was struggling to find a place to sit. If they ever got home, Erica promisedherself, she would convince the boys to buy a bigger RV. But then they’d probably fill it up as well.



“Right,” Kit said, from where he was perched. “I suggest that you disarm the bomb, now.”



Himmler snorted as he pulled the backpack around until itsat on his lap. “I think I’ll wait untilwe’re out of this world,” he said. “Takeus out, now.”



He stared at Kit until Kit reluctantly nodded. “Get us out of here,” he ordered. “Now.”



Himmler twisted his neck to watch as GBW put his hands onthe steering wheel. Before he lookedback, Bruno had tapped the device and the entire RV lurched violently. Himmler’s entire body seemed to crush againstErica’s as the RV lurched for a second time. Outside, she could see nothing, but blackness...and then there was athird and final lurch. Brilliant sunlightpoured through the windows, illuminating the cramped interior of the RV. Erica twisted and peered outside. She saw what looked like scrubland, with adesert in the far distance. The airseemed to shimmer with the heat.



“We may be in Kansas, guys,” Bruno commented. Erica doubted it. There was a small group of people in thedistance, staring at the RV. They lookedrather like African tribesmen, carrying spears and wearing clothes that coveredmost of their bodies. “I hope the localsare friendly.”



“Never mind them,” Kit said, drawing the pistol he’dtaken from the Nazi world. He pointed itright at Himmler’s head. “Disarm thenuke, now.”



Himmler nodded slowly and reached into the backpack. The nuke wasn't very impressive on theoutside, little more than a metal container with a dial on the top. Erica watched as Himmler slowly entered acode, explaining how to work it as he went along. She tensed as he pulled the monitor from hiswrist, but nothing happened. The nukehad been disarmed.



“We should dump it,” Erica said. “I don’t want to keep it around.”



“It might come in handy,” Kit objected. “You never know when you might need todestroy a city.”



“Are you out of your mind?” Erica demanded. “Do you really want to cart that sort ofdestruction around?”



“An armed society is a polite society,” Kit countered.



Erica shook her head. There was something more important to do than argue over the merits ofgun control. Before Himmler could react,she cracked her rifle butt over his head, leaving him stunned. Kit helped her open the door and shoveHimmler out onto the ground. A momentlater, he was securely tied up and helpless.



“Now what?” GBWasked. “Do we just leave him here?”



“Better decide quickly,” Bruno said. “The natives are coming this way.”

 

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><font size="3">Chapter Seventeen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com


The locals advanced carefully, giving the group plenty oftime to study them. They were all male,their faces – what little could be seen of them - a curious mixture of Africanand Arab features. The robes they worecovered almost everything, apart from their hands, in which some of themcarried spears or daggers. Their leaderwas the only man with a beard, Erica noted, and he carried no weapons. He kept advancing forward until he haltedbarely a metre from their position.



“Greetings,” he said. The translation implants were still working, thankfully. “We greet you in the name of the gods.”



Gods plural, Erica noted. Not Muslims, then. They didn't lookto be carrying any firearms or other products of advanced technology, althoughthey were carrying worked metal spears. If they were nomads, they might trade with more advanced settlers awayfrom the desert. She wondered where theyactually were on Earth. If they couldhop over to Germany, there was no reason why they couldn't jump to Africa orthe Middle East – assuming that either existed in this timeline.



“We greet you,” Erica said. “We are travellers...”



The nomad completely ignored her, but a handful of hisfollowers exchanged grins. Ericaflushed, angrily, realising that he was reluctant to talk to a woman. She’d once attended a sociology class thathad suggested that many barbaric traditions regarding the submission of womenwere actually necessary for social integrity, but she hadn't bought theargument. It struck her as someonetrying to convince themselves that black was right, rather than considering themerits of the case on moral grounds.



Kit stepped forward. “I greet you,” he said. “We aretravellers from a far country, exploring the world.”



Erica rolled her eyes as he chatted happily away with theleader, who seemed relieved not to have to talk to Erica. He probably expected his women to be barefootand pregnant in the kitchen, or something equally stupid like that. She would have loved to introduce him to theAmazon tribe they’d discovered in the post-nuclear war world. No doubt there would have been many scufflesfor supremacy before one side or the other won.



The nomads seemed remarkably chatty; after the first fewquestions and answers, they sat down and put their weapons away. They didn't seem to feel in any danger,although they might not have recognised the guns that the group was carrying. If they didn’t have firearms of any kind,they wouldn't think that the rifles were anything more than oddly-shapedspears. Kit kept chatting to them,asking them questions, and slowly building up a picture of the world aroundthem. The nomads wandered the edge ofthe desert, driven away from the cities for a crime committed in their past,one that the current generation had forgotten. Erica didn't think that that was very fair, but who knew what the localsthought about the matter? Maybe onetribe had raided the wrong city or committed an atrocity....there was no way toknow.



“You keep slaves?” Kit asked, at one point. Ericalooked up, sharply. “What do you do withthem?”



Erica listened to the ensuring discussion, an evil ideaslowly starting to form in her mind. Thenomads raided other tribes and the smaller settlements regularly, taking bothmale and female captives and adopting them into their tribes. Females became the wives of male nomads;males were put to work, but allowed a chance to earn a place in the tribe. There was a surprisingly complex honour codesurrounding slavery in the tribes, rather than the kind of slavery she'd learnedabout in school. But then, treatingsomeone as a permanent inferior would cause problems in a small tribe.



She stepped back and caught Bruno’s arm. “We could sell them Himmler,” shesuggested. The Nazi was lying on theground, still stunned. “They could takehim away from us and...”



Bruno chortled. “Andit wouldn't be anything more than he deserves,” he said, wryly. He lifted his voice. “Kit?”



Kit broke off from the nomads and stepped back tothem. “What’s up?”



“Ask your new friends if they’d like a free slave,” Ericasaid, nodding to Himmler. “Hell, wecould offer them Cecil as well...”



“No,” Cecil yelped. The erstwhile General was still sitting in the front of the RV,cowering. “I’ll behave myself, I swear...!”



“It might lead to a fate worse than death,” Kitsaid. “At least for him, if I’m readingthe vibes right. But we can offer themHimmler and see what they give us for him.”



Erica watched in surprise as Kit started to haggle withthe nomad leader. She’d expectedobjections, or at least questions about their right to sell someone intoslavery, but she got the impression that it was a pretty common practice in thenew world. Indeed, if the tribes raidedsettlements, perhaps settler leaders would sell their own people into slavery ratherthan having the tribes looting, raping and burning their way through theirsettlements. Buying peace was a losinggame in the long run, but maybe it kept the tribes from causing havoc on the frontiers.



Himmler seemed to interest the tribesmen, probablybecause of his pale skin. Ericasuspected that they wouldn't get much use out of him, but he might be acuriosity if they sold him onwards to someone else. Eventually, they passed over a number ofsilver pieces and a scroll of parchment, before bidding farewell to Kit. Two of the younger men stared openly at Ericauntil they were rebuked by their leader, who led them back towards theirwaiting camels.



“I think he wanted to buy you as well,” Kit said, whenthe nomad was out of earshot. Himmlerhad woken up and was screaming curses in German towards them, until one of thenomads smacked him with a blunt end of a spear. “He kept telling me that he’d never seen a girl like you before – he thoughtyou had to be a witch.”



“I feel like one here,” Erica said, sourly. “The cheek of the bastard!”



“I think that they might have been tempted to try to takeyou,” Kit added. “We may want to leavehere before the sun goes down. I got thefeeling that they do much of their raiding at night.”



He unfolded the scroll and peered down at it. “They gave us a map,” he explained, as Brunotook one end, allowing them to unfold it all. “I didn't tell them that we were lost, but...”



Erica studied the map thoughtfully. It started with Gibraltar and Spain andheaded west through Turkey and as far east as Pakistan, or where Pakistan wouldbe in their timeline. Hundreds of citiesand roads were marked out on the map, some corresponding to places she vaguely recognisedfrom their own world. Rome, Istanbul andAthens were clearly recognisable, along with a city in Egypt that she suspectedwas Cairo. Others seemed to beunrecognisable, as if they had never been built or faded away before she wasborn.



“Interesting map,” Bruno said, finally. “Does it actually tell us where we are?”



“On the edge of the desert,” Kit said. He tapped North Africa on the map. “I told them that we’d crossed the desert tothe south. They were very impressed – I thinkthat they have never managed to head south themselves. The desert appears to be filled withmonsters, according to them. People whogo in don’t come out again.”



“Maybe they find somewhere they don’t want to leave,”Bruno suggested. “Or maybe they findsomeone who doesn't want to let themleave.”



Erica shrugged. “Allof which leaves us with a problem,” she said. “What do we do now?”



“We just sold Himmler into slavery,” Kit said. “I think a small celebration might be inorder.”



“I think we should try to take a look at civilisationaround here,” GBW said. “It doesn't lookas if we’re in any real danger right now and if we jump out, we might land inanother frying pan. Maybe we should havestayed with Abdul.”



“This place looks even more primitive,” Brunoobjected. “I think we might get boredhere.”



“Or dead,” Kit put in. “If they had no qualms about taking Himmler as a slave, they probablywon’t have any qualms about taking us as well.”



“We don’t have to stay here forever,” GBW pointedout. “Besides, we have superiorweapons. What are they going to do tous?”



“Superior weapons until we run out of ammunition,” Kitsaid. “How much did we bring from theNazis? Not enough to fight a longbattle, I fear.”



Erica shrugged. “Sowe keep one hand on the device so we can get out of here if the **** hits thefan,” she said. “GBW is right. This world doesn't look as if it’s anythinglike as hazardous as the Nazi world. Wemay as well relax and explore it a little before we go anywhere else.”



She looked over at Cecil, who had been trying not to benoticed. “And you behave yourself, or wewill sell you into slavery too,” she warned him. “You don’t get a second chance to **** withthe lives of millions of people.”



Kit climbed into the front seat and started theengine. The tribesmen, who were stillwatching from a distance, stared in disbelief as the RV started to move across thescrubland. Erica could imagine how theyfelt, although she found it hard to feel sorry for the sexist bastards, even ifthey had taken Himmler off theirhands. She had to hang on as the RVbumped and grinded its way on the uneven surface. It was clear that the locals hadn't inventedany form of vehicle, maybe not even the wheel. They might not even have developed roads.



They saw a small convoy of carts and horses in thedistance and Kit turned towards their position. The locals – clearly not nomads – started to panic as soon as they heardthe RV’s engine, suggesting that they definitely had no experience with poweredvehicles. They fled into the distance,heading south along a road that looked to have been built out of solid stone orconcrete. Kit, at Erica’s suggestion,headed north. At least their compassesworked properly on this world, rather than the junkyard of dead warships. Given time, Bruno was certain that they wouldbe able to work out where they were. Erica wasn't sure that the knowledge would do them any good.



“I see smoke,” Bruno commented, thirty minuteslater. They were making better speedalong the road, which was flat and straight enough to shame many modern roadsfrom their world. The Romans had beenfamous for building roads, Erica recalled, and Rome had definitely been one ofthe cities marked on the map. Perhapsthey were in a world where the Roman Empire had never fallen, or perhaps they’dslipped through time as well as across the multiverse. “I think someone’s in trouble.”



Kit gunned the engine and they raced forward. Another small convoy could be seen in thedistance, one of its carts turned over and set on fire by the attackers. A small group of soldiers seemed to be tryingto protect the remaining carts and carriages, although it was clear that theywere badly outnumbered. Nomadssurrounded the scene, nipping in to throw spears towards the soldiers and thendarting back before the soldiers could cut them down with their swords. It was only a matter of time before they wereworn down and killed.



“They may be our friends,” Kit said, as they approached. “Should we interfere...?”



Erica saw a girl’s face appear at one of the carriages,just for a second, and remembered how dismissive the nomads had been ofwomen. “Yes, I think we should,” shesaid, picking up the rifle. Her fatherhad hammered accuracy into her head from an early age, but the Nazi-designedrifle was unfamiliar to her. She justhave to hope that the sounds scared the nomads and they retreated withouttrying to charge the RV. “GBW, cover me!”



Kit hit the brakes and the RV slid to a halt. Erica jumped out, lifted the rifle, and tookaim at one of the nomads. He didn’t seemto understand until she pulled the trigger, hitting him in the shoulder. It was a luckier shot than she hadexpected. The Nazi rifle kicked like abitch, as if it was surprisingly crude. A second later, GBW dropped one of the other nomads, picking him offwith a neat shot through the head. As Ericawatched, the remaining nomads turned and started cantering towards the RV. She lifted her rifle again, sighted on the leader,and then...



“Here come the drums, here come the drums...



The deafening sound of music shattered the peace of thedesert as Kit turned on the stereo and played Voodoo Child’s song at greatvolume. Erica jumped, but the nomadspanicked, their camels turning and trying to run away from the music. The handful of nomads on foot started to run themselves,back towards the desert. Erica smiled asshe lowered her rifle. They’d won...the soldiersthey’d saved looked rather alarmed, as if they wanted to run too. The music would have shocked them aswell. Kit turned off the music andclimbed out of the RV, allowing Bruno to slip into the driving seat. If the soldiers decided to turn hostile...



Up close, the soldiers definitely looked Roman, although they looked rather less flashy than thecharacters she’d seen in a dozen movies. They seemed worn down, their armour stained with sweat and blood. Their faces were the same curious mixture ofethnic traits that she’d seen on the nomads, a strange combination of a dozendifferent ethnic groups. They looked to bea melting pot, with men from a hundred different nations brought together andtrained as soldiers. Ethnic differenceswere supposed to vanish if the training was intensive enough, and no one wasfavoured. Her father had sometimes been scathingon political correctness infecting the military and hampering its ability tofight. Erica doubted that that would bea problem here.



One of the carts opened, revealing a thin girl wearing along white dress. She had remarkably finecheekbones, tanned under the sun, with long dark hair that fell down herback. Erica looked at her and feltpositively dowdy. She could practically sense both Bruno and GBW – and probablyeven Cecil – staring at the girl. Whoever she was, she was gorgeous.



“You saved my life,” the girl said, as she stopped infront of Erica. The soldiers tensed,preparing to form a line between her and the newcomers, but she held up one armto stop them. “How can I ever repay you?”



Erica elbowed GBW before he could say anythingindiscreet. “We’re just travellers,looking for a place to stay,” Erica said. “We’re pleased to be of service.”



“My father will be pleased to see you at his palace,” thegirl said. “My name is Ekaterina, thedaughter of Sythos, Lord of this Province under the God-King. He would welcome you to his home.”



“We would be honoured to accept,” Erica said. “If you will lead the way, we will followyou.”



It took nearly twenty minutes for the small convoy tostart moving and it was clear that the soldiers didn't like seeing the RVmove. Many of them made signs to wardoff evil as the RV hummed to life, although Ekaterina didn't seem to beintimidated at all. Her apparent freedomwas a good sign, Erica told herself, as was her ability to command herbodyguard. But she was a princess, ofsorts. Who knew what the lives ofordinary women would be in what passed for civilisation on this world?



The city slowly came into view, a towering stonemetropolis surrounded by thick walls and farm land. Given the level of technology she’d seen, itwould be incredibly difficult to take the city by storm, although starving itout would be an option. Bruno and Kit,who’d spent years playing war-fighting games, chatted about the likely tacticsas they reached the gate and drove into the city. One whiff of the air and Erica remembered thesewers they’d crawled through on the Nazi world. The inhabitants had obviously never learnedthe benefits of sanitation. She saw menand women throwing the contents of chamber pots into the streets, often coveringan unwary passer-by with piss and ****.



“The entire city has to be infested with disease,” GBWcommented, and no one disagreed. “I feelunhealthy just by being here. You thinkwe’re immune to their diseases?”



There was no answer. Erica watched as the palace slowly came into view, a blocky buildingdecorated with spires and arches. Amassive statue of a man wearing armour and riding an oversized horse dominatedthe area in front of the palace, the man seeming to cast an insolent staretowards the building. He had a quiff ofhair that seemed to stick upwards from his forehead, lending him a slightlyrakish air.



The convoy stopped outside the palace and Ekaterinajumped out of her cart, running over to the RV. Erica heard Bruno sigh in appreciation and elbowed him, crossly. It wasn't Ekaterina’s fault that she haddrawn their attention, and she probably hadn’t meant to do it, but it was stillirritating.



“You have to come and meet my father,” she insisted,firmly. “Come on – he’ll want to see youright now.”



“We’re coming,” Bruno said. His tongue wasn't quite hanging out. “But – if you would – who is that statue?”



Ekaterina gave him a shocked look, as if the answershould have been obvious. “Why, it’s theGod-King,” she said. “The ruler of ourworld, Alexander of Macedon. He hasruled for the last two thousand years.”

 

Chapter Eighteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



“Well,” GBW said, an hour later, “this is the life.”



He lay face down on a stone table, while a topless woman massagedhis back. The embarrassment had vanishedquickly as she worked her way down towards his buttocks, working in scented oilthat made him feel remarkably relaxed. Threeother girls were doing the same for Kit, Bruno and even Cecil, although thewould-be General had had to be talked into undressing for them. It didn’t help that neither he nor GBWunderstood a word they said. Their languagedidn’t seem to be related to English at all.



“It definitely has something to recommend it,” Brunoagreed. His girl was working away at hisshoulders, her breasts brushing against the back of his head. It was an unbelievably erotic sight. “I could get used to it.”



Ekaterina’s father had welcomed the travellers andoffered them the hospitality of his home. GBW had expected a place to sleep and maybe some food; instead, itseemed that they’d been caught up in intricate rituals for visitingguests. The massages were just the firstpart in a long ceremony that would culminate in a formal meal, where they wouldmeet Ekaterina’s father’s network of clients. GBW wasn't sure if he was trying to impress them, or if he had his ownplans for the travellers. Ekaterina wasclearly no fool and if her bodyguards had reported to her father about what hadhappened to the nomads who had tried to capture her convoy...



“Speak for yourself,” Kit grunted. “Do you think they’d bring in boys if I askednicely?”



GBW flushed, and then shivered. The girls weren't willingly massaging them;they weren't even being paid for the service. This was a society that practiced slavery and the girls were slaves, keptin bondage by Ekaterina’s father. He’dhalf-wondered what would happen if he tried to kiss one of the girls, maybe tryto take it a bit further...they were slaves; they’d submit to his attentionseven if they didn't want him to have sex with them. The thought chilled him to the bone, killingthe lust that had been slowly rising in his groin. He was glad that he was lying on his chestfor the first time. The girl wouldn't seewhat had happened and wonder if it was somehow her fault.



“Never mind that,” GBW said. The girl started at his tone. “What happened to Erica?”



“I think she went off with Ekaterina,” Bruno said. “I don’t think that this society would be toohappy with high-born men and women being bathed together. We’ll see her at dinnertime.”



“I hope,” GBW muttered. He allowed the girl to help him to his feet, gently pushed her hand awayfrom his groin, and walked over towards the pools of water. They were warm enough to remove most of theoil from his skin, leaving him smelling very faintly of flowers. It would have embarrassed him back home, buthere it seemed to be normal for men to wear perfume. “Or maybe we’re somewhere we shouldn't be –again.”



The girls didn't seem to understand English – if thepoint of divergence was as far back as Alexander the Great, English might neverhave existed at all – but he reminded himself to take nothing for granted. Slaves pervaded this society, men and womenlargely ignored by their masters – but they would have ears, they would heareverything. It was tempting to assumethat there was a slave underground out there, planning a rebellion againsttheir masters, yet he couldn't take it for granted. As guests, they would no doubt be kept awayfrom anyone showing the slightest hint of disloyalty.



Bruno and Kit followed him through the warm water, andthen into the next room. Kit seemed tohave no trouble being nude in front of a group of strange girls, but both Brunoand GBW tried to cover themselves, something that made some of the young girlsgiggle. They’d probably seen it allbefore on hundreds of guests, or the young men of the household – if there were young men in the household. Ekaterina’s father hadn’t mentioned any sonsor nephews to them during their brief meeting.



GBW glanced back and saw Cecil gently touching his girl’sbreast, as if he'd never touched one before in his life. Given the complete lack of empathy he'd shownto other people, that was probably the case. Maybe he’d grown up on internet porn and never met any real girls. GBW barked at him to leave the slave alone andget washed and Cecil leapt to obey, casting resentful glances at GBW as theslave girls washed him thoroughly. Theirgiggles probably didn't help his pride very much. GBW found it hard to care. Part of him thought that slavery was theleast that Cecil deserved.



Once they were all washed, the slave girls presented themwith formal outfits. They were made frombrightly coloured silk, shimmering in the light from the lanterns overhead; ittook GBW a moment to realise that one part of the outfit was a kilt that hungdown to his knees. A gold-edged belt,wrapped around his waist, carried a scabbard for a short sword and a pair ofdaggers, as well as a small pouch containing gold coins. They looked freshly minted to his eyes,stamped with the face of Alexander of Macedon, Alexander the Great. GBW wasn't sure if he believed what Ekaterinahad said about the God-King being over two thousand years old, but Cecil’stimeline had managed to give Hitler an additional few decades of life before he’dbeen accidentally squashed by a cross-time travelling RV. Maybe someone else had boosted Alexander’slifespan well beyond the human norm. Ifhe’d known more about Alexander the Great, he might have been able to come upwith better answers. Hadn't some peopleworshipped him as a god?



“Maybe the laws of science are different here,” Brunosaid, when GBW asked the question out loud. “Maybe he feeds on their worship.”



“Like a vampire,” GBW said. A girl he’d never managed to get past firstbase had insisted on going to see a series of movies featuring vampires. They’d been boring and tedious, with the vampires– bloodsucking creatures – being portrayed as romantic ideals. What was romanticabout a man who would suck your blood and turn you into an undeadcreature? It was a far cry from lickingor sucking a person’s groin. “Or maybewe shouldn’t speculate right now.”



The girls produced mirrors and held them up in front ofthe guys. GBW barely recognisedhimself. Two days without shaving hadleft an alarming amount of stubble on his face, but the girls had washed anddone his hair in a quiff that reminded him of the statue outside thepalace. The outfit they’d given himseemed too bright to be real; his shirt was bright red, while the kilt wasgolden. Bruno wore purple and green; Kitwore yellow and black; Cecil wore white and silver. There seemed to be no pattern to the outfits,unless it was to mark them clearly as guests. The silk used to produce them had to cost plenty of money, even by theirstandards back home.



He watched as the girls donned tunics themselves – much toCecil’s disappointment – and led them down a long stone corridor, into amassive dining chamber. Short tableswere everywhere, piled with roast meat and vegetables, while slaves moved fromtable to table carrying jugs of wine. Hesaw a whole roast boar, a camel and a massive animal that he couldn't evenbegin to identify, unless it was a elephant. There were bowls of caviar, whole tiny fishes waiting to be eaten wholeand even roast mice. Some of it smeltheavenly, like a barbeque. Other dishessmelt funny, making his gorge rise. Howmuch were they expected to eat?



Ekaterina’s father bellowed for them to come over to thetable at the front of the room, where he was surrounded by a small group ofcronies. It looked as if he’d invitedhalf the city to the feast; as they passed, GBW was aware of eyes followingthem from all of the other tables. They’dprobably heard rumours about the RV and what it could do already – hell, theywould have seen it as they’d driven through the city. In hindsight, GBW told himself sternly, thatmight not have been a wise idea. Thesight of the RV would no doubt make the locals salivate at the thought of moretechnological goodies.



There were no chairs in the room, leaving the guestssitting or kneeling on the stone floor. GBW sat down next to Kit and Cecil, who was staring around at theguests. Every few minutes, someone fromone of the other tables would stand up, say something in their language andthen quaff an entire jug of wine in a single swallow. His comrades would cheer and applaud. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reasonto the seating arrangements, although some of the guests seemed to be wearingmore jewels than others. Maybe they werelocal nobility and the others were tradesmen, or maybe there was something elsegoing on. A number already seemed to beroaring drunk.



Slaves produced china plates and started to hand out meatand drink. GBW took one sniff of thewine and shook his head, refusing to drink any more. Cecil glared at him when he ordered him notto touch the wine either. The last thingthey wanted was to get drunk on unfamiliar wine. Who knew what might happen when they wereunable to defend themselves? He studiedthe meat and looked around in vain for knives and forks, before realising thatthey were expected to eat with their fingers. The thought of disease made him hesitate, before realising that therewas little choice. Carefully, he pickedup a piece of roast beef and bit into it. It tasted surprisingly good and he found himself finishing it before he’dquite realised how much he enjoyed it.



Kit glanced over at him. “The Lord is telling us about this city – and how much he hopes to benefitfrom what we have to trade,” he said. Hepicked up a piece of bread and dunked it absently in one of the pots ofsauce. “Do you think that we shouldoffer him some of our knowledge?”



“God knows how he'd be able to use anything we brought,”GBW replied, thoughtfully. “No electricgenerators here, are there? I don’tthink this world has ever had an industrial revolution. It would take them centuries to get to 1800slevels, let alone our own time...”



“But we could help them,” Kit said. “We’ve got Bruno’s copy of Wikipedia. We could certainly start laying the groundsfor an industrial revolution with them...”



“Of course,” Cecil injected. “And then we might become lords of thisworld.”



GBW elbowed him, silently grateful that Cecil couldn't talkdirectly to the natives. “Lords of aworld without hot running water or disinfectant,” he said. “Would you prefer to reign in hell or servein heaven?”



“Maybe they need us,” Kit said. “If what nearly happened to Ekaterina is anyindication, the nomads are pushing closer and closer to the cities. This world could be on the verge of fallingto barbarism.”



GBW looked over at one of the far tables. Two half-drunk men had started to fight,slamming fists into each other with terrifying force. The sound echoed across the room, almostdrowned out by cheers from the spectators as one of the men managed to slam apunch into the other’s jaw, sending him toppling over backwards. A couple of slaves arrived, poured water overthe stunned man’s face, and then helped him to stagger out of the room. The trickle of blood pouring down his cheekmight have been a minor wound, or it might have been something crippling in aworld that knew nothing of modern medicine. They probably thought that bleeding the wounded was a good idea...



“Tell me something,” he said. “Are you sure that it hasn’t already fallento barbarism?”

***​

“Tell me about Alexander,” Erica said.



Ekaterina and her sat together in a side room, eating asmall meal. It seemed that women weren’tgenerally allowed to join men at their feasts, something that made Erica grither teeth before realising that the feast might not be a pleasant experience. Ekaterina’s tales of spying on the men as ayounger child suggested that the guys were in for heavy drinking contests andprobably a semi-friendly interrogation from Ekaterina’s father. He probably wouldn't take Erica tooseriously, which she resolved to turn to her advantage. Women had eyes, ears, and generally betterbrains than men. They needed them tostay ahead of male idiots who thought that they were God’s gift to womankind.



“I’m astonished that you haven’t heard of the God-King,” Ekaterinasaid. “Is your civilisation really thatfar away across the desert?”



And Ekaterina herself was definitely no fool, Ericareminded herself, firmly. “We’ve beenisolated for a long time,” she said. “Please– tell me what you know.”



“Alexander was born in Macedon, son of Zeus,” Ekaterinasaid, in a sing-song voice. “By the timehe was thirty, he had already conquered the Persians and brought them into hisEmpire. He raged westwards and nothingcould stop him; Egypt fell, Carthage fell, Rome fell...even the fearedbarbarians of Gaul could not halt him. The son of a god, undefeated in battle, warred through Germany and evenup to crush the hordes that came pouring out of the east. No wound could lay him low, no assassin’spoison could end his life...he was a god walking the human world. And when he finally occupied the whole of theworld, he turned himself to building the state that would last forever, with asingle immortal ruler at its head.



“New cities were founded, each one a testament to hisgreatness. Greek learning was spreadthroughout the world, combined with that of Rome and Persia and even far-offChina. He built roads to link his empiretogether, reformed taxation and created a noble aristocracy to share the burdenof government. And yet his father wouldnot let him die. The God-King remains onthis world, commanding his empire. Nonedare stand against him.”



Erica considered it. The story was probably a great deal more complicated than thehalf-legends Ekaterina had outlined, but it sounded reasonable plausible. If there had been an immortal king in thedays where men still believed that demigods walked the Earth, it would havebeen easy to start a religion that would start worshipping Alexander ratherthan the other gods. Alexander wasreal...given two thousand years or more, the cult might have spread to theentire known world. The map they’d seen hadn'tshown any hint that the empire had discovered America, or maybe the FarEast. Was there a recognisable versionof Japan in this timeline, or had it been swallowed up by Alexander? There was no way to know.



“But the barbarians come out of the desert and attack settlementsand the God-King does nothing,” Ekaterina continued. “My father intended me to marry the ruler ofa nearby city” – she pretended not to notice Erica’s flinch – “in hopes that wemight build a wall against the barbarians. But they assassinated the man I was meant to marry and nearly dragged meoff on my way home. If you hadn’t savedmy life...”



“You would have been killed, or worse,” Erica said. There was something about the story that didn'tquite make sense. If Alexander had ruledas a semi-divine ruler for the last two thousand years, why were there stillbarbarians? Perhaps the desert had beenexpanding and towns and cities had been cut off, before falling tobarbarism...no, that made little sense. “Weare glad to have been of service.”



“You can do things we can't,” Ekaterina said. “Maybe the God-King sent you to aid usagainst the barbarians. You ride in adivine chariot and strike with thunder balls. Surely you can help us to save what we can of the empire, to hold outuntil the God-King comes to our rescue.”



Erica hesitated. Part of her wanted to help, but there were limits to what they could doto aid the locals. Their guns andammunition would run out quickly if they tried to fight a pitched battle,leaving the locals defenceless when the barbarians worked up the nerve to tryagain. And while Ekaterina’s societymight be the closest thing to civilised on this world, it wasn't particularlycivilised by Erica’s standards. Ekaterinahad been sent to marry a man she didn't know and the society used slaves...



Hypocrite,Erica told herself. You sold Himmler into slavery. How can you possibly complain about others keeping slaves?



“If we can reward you,” Ekaterina said, softly, “my fatherwill give you anything in his power to win your help. My hand is no longer pledged to another. He might accept a marriage alliance betweenme and one of your men...”



Her voice was so earnest that Erica found herself likingthe girl after all. She meant every wordshe said. If marrying Bruno or GBW wasthe only way to save her city, she would do it. Erica was tempted to suggest that that was exactly what she should do,but somehow restrained herself. Besides,if the guys wanted to marry Ekaterina, they could court her themselves. The thought of one of them taking her justlike that was...just silly.



“I’ll have to talk to the boys and see what we can offer,”she said, finally. It would take Kit andBruno to think of things that they could suggest to the locals. “But I think that they would want to help.”

 

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><font size="3">Chapter Nineteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com
“I think we need to consider the Prime Directive,” GBWsaid, seriously. “I don’t think that weshould interfere.”

Kit snorted. “Ialways thought that the Prime Directive was a silly idea,” he said. “If you have the ability to intervene, toprevent evil or to save lives, don’t you have a moral responsibility to do so?”

“And the Doctor always just walks into a situation andsaves the day,” Bruno added. “Who needsa bald Frenchman’s prissy attitude to the rules when you can save lives?”

“And we could give them all kinds of technology,” Ceciladded, eagerly. “And we don’t have toworry about changing time.”

“This society isn't anything we could consider civilised,”GBW said. “Giving them advanced technologyisn’t automatically going to make them civilised. Shitholes like Iran don’t produce much for themselves,but they’re very good at stealing tech and using it against their own people.”

“I think you’re forgetting something,” Bruno said. “There is no way that we can automaticallygive them Abrams tanks and F-22 fighter jets. Most of what we have in the RV is completely beyond their comprehension,let alone their ability to duplicate. Wewould have to start working to introduce stuff like gunpowder – I’m astonishedthat they don’t have it already – and metalworking.”

“God may have made men, but Sam Colt made them equal,”Kit observed, archly. “If gunpowderexisted in this timeline, Alexander the God-King might have banned it toprevent it being used against him. ARoman Legion full of trained killers could have been wiped out by a few menwith machine guns. Given a few thousandyears and it could have been completely forgotten.”

“Which is something of my point,” GBW said, returning tothe matter at hand. “If we start makingchanges here, there will be unpredictable knock-on effects in theirsociety. Who knows what her father, theunquestioned ruler of this city, will do with gunpowder weapons? We might be triggering off a version of theFirst World War...”

“These people worship their God-King,” Erica said. “They’re not going to rebel against him.”

“They might if he demands that they surrender their newtoys,” GBW pointed out. “If what shetold you is true, the God-King has done nothing to halt the onrushingbarbarians. Someone that old might nolonger care about the people, merely about maintaining his power base. And let’s face it. What we do is going to undermine his powerbase quite spectacularly.”

Erica tapped the table. “As I see it, we have two choices,” she said. “The first is that we help these people, thesecond is that we get back in the RV and jump out of here.” She allowed her voice to harden. “Let me remind you that the last time we lefta fairly safe world, we jumped right into a world dominated by Nazi Germany. Where are we going to end up next? A world ruled by the Soviet Union? Another world destroyed by a nuclearwar? Or maybe a world where superhumansfrom South Africa have taken the entire planet and domesticated the rest of thehuman race? We’re fairly safe here...”

“As long as we keep being useful,” GBW said, mordantly. “As lovely as Ekaterina is, I don’t thinkthat her father will hesitate to use harsh methods if he thinks we’re holdingsomething back. And they don’t evenunderstand steam power, let alone an internal combustion engine. They’re bound to think that we’re hidingsomething...”

“We take a vote,” Erica said. “We stay here, or we jump out. Who wants to stay?”

Kit and Bruno raised their hands. Cecil followed them a moment later. “And I want to stay too,” Erica said. “I think you’re outvoted.”

“We’re going to regret this,” GBW predicted. “I can't even talk to the locals.”

“Get yourself a pillow dictionary,” Kit suggested. Erica elbowed him, hard. “I’m sure that the slaves will be more thanhappy to help you...”

“Very funny,” GBW said. “I wouldn't do that to anyone.”

“They might find it a honour,” Bruno added, dryly. “Being with you might be preferable to beingwith some spoilt brat of a noble family.”

“Shut up, the pair of you,” Erica growled. “Seeing we’re agreed, which of us is going totell the Lord what we’ve decided. Andthat there’s no way they can do things quickly?”

“Me,” Kit said. “Ithink I impressed him in the drinking contest.”

“Sucks to be you,” Bruno said. “If you impressed him that much, he’ll wantto do it again and again and again. These people make college kids look like teetotallers.”

***​

Despite GBW’s doubts, he had to admit that the first twoweeks went surprisingly smoothly, once they’d managed to explain to Ekaterina’sfather that they couldn't produce anything by magic. It helped that while Alexander was immortaland certainly very practiced at reading humans, he didn't have any magical powersbeyond rapidly healing from wounds that should have killed him. The concept of a god with limited powers wasa new one to GBW – he’d been raised in a Christian family – but it made acertain kind of sense. Alexander was theheir to a dozen different traditions, each one depicting the gods as merelymore powerful humans. They werepowerful, yet they were very far from all-powerful. Some of the legends claimed that humans hadeven managed to best the gods, or trick them in games of chance.

Kit, with some information drawn from the stored copy ofWikipedia, had started to work on making gunpowder. In theory, it should have been easy, but inpractice it was harder than it seemed. Finding the right materials had been simple enough, yet he’d had toexperiment constantly until he finally found a combination that worked. The experiments were dangerous enough thatErica finally insisted that he taught the locals how to do them instead, pointingout that blowing his hand off would be a disaster in this world. Producing primitive cannons and weapons was agreat deal harder, even with the precise data provided in the computers. The local engineers would have to producethem all by hand until they managed to create some form of industrialplant.

One thing the locals had taken to at once werefireworks. Kit had manufactured simpledevices and then allowed Ekaterina’s father to encourage the locals toexperiment themselves. There were moreaccidents than GBW would have preferred, but they were allowing the locals todevelop the basis for a scientific revolution. Or so Kit claimed – personally, GBW was less sure. Ekaterina’s father might have embraced thenewcomers, but the priests in the temples seemed rather reluctant to acceptthat the travellers might be divine – or that they were nothing more thanmen. The theological debates made littlesense even to the ones with translator implants, questioning everything fromthe nature of godhood to the old question about sufficiently advanced technologybeing indistinguishable from magic.

GBW had found himself more than a little isolated by hislack of an implant, but at Ekaterina’s suggestion he had started to work with afew of the slave girls and scribes. He’dnever had much of a talent for languages before and the local tongue –universal, they claimed – was a strange mixture of Greek, Latin, Persian andChinese, yet he was slowly starting to understand it. The basics were simple enough; the morecomplex issues required a scribe or an accountant. It took several days of careful questioningbefore GBW realised that both professions were ruled by guilds with completeauthority over their members – and a monopoly on their services. Anyone who wanted to send a letter or havetheir accounts handled needed to go to the guilds. Independent scribes or accountants ended uphaving their throats brutally cut by the guild’s enforcers.

“Talk about a union,” Kit observed, one evening when theywere putting their heads and knowledge together. “They have the whole town sealed up tight.”

“It won’t last,” Bruno predicted. “They never invented Arabic numerals – theyuse an incredibly complex system to do accounts. Now that we've introduced a whole new method,a method anyone can use, their power is going to be broken. Hell, what will they make of an alphabet thathas only twenty-four letters?”

“And you don't think that they will react violently whenthey discover that their monopoly is about to come to an end?” GBW asked, darkly. “They’re not likely to go quietly into thenight.”

“I shouldn't worry about it,” Kit said. “The Lord tells me that he knows what he isdoing.”

“I hope he’s right,” GBW said. “We’ve dropped a few stones in the water andnow the ripples are spreading across the world.”

The following day, he tried chatting to Ekaterina. Her father seemed to allow her to spend timewith him, but insisted on a chaperone – an old woman who eyed GBW as if sheexpected him to try to carry Ekaterina off to the bedroom at any moment. GBW wasn't sure if she was a slave or anolder woman of the family, although from what he had figured out Ekaterina was definitelyan only child. As a woman, she couldn't inherither father’s position, but her husband could – which would make her hand themost sought-after in the city. GBW wasn'tsure if her father thought a blood tie to the newcomers would be helpful, or ifhe simply considered the thought of Ekaterina lowering herself to kiss someoneof uncertain family inconceivable.

“The barbarians are becoming more active out there,” shesaid. GBW had heard the same from theothers. The encroaching barbarians werebecoming more daring, pressing their raids against towns and even smallercities. In response, the price of foodhad started to go through the roof, something that wasn't helping the increasinglycramped city. Even Ekaterina’s fatherwas having problems finding enough to eat. The feast they’d had on their first day was no more than a memory. “I fear for what will happen when they cometo the walls.”

“They won't be able to get over,” GBW assured her,although that wasn't the realdanger. The town had a vast population,even before refugees had started to flood into the city. Starvation and disease would reduce thedefenders before the barbarians managed to storm the walls and break into thecity. Perversely, given enough food, thetownspeople could have held out forever. The barbarians had no real siege train following them. “I'm sure that the new weapons will be readyin time.”

“My father says that you were sent to save us,” Ekaterinasaid, “but the priests disagree. Some ofthem feel that you are nothing more than barbarians yourself, or that you’reworking with the barbarians to weaken our city. That isn't true, is it?”

She looked so anxious that GBW hastened to reassureher. “We’re just travellers, doing whatwe can to save your city,” he said. Herdark eyes seemed so soft and welcoming; he felt an odd burst of protectivenessfor her. He barely knew her andyet...part of him wondered if he was falling in love with her. Or maybe it was lust. Whatever the others might think, he wasn't goingto take advantage of any of the slave girls. It would have been wrong. “Ifyour people let us, we can start you on the path to building a far betterworld.”

Ekaterina nodded, slowly. “I have told all of my friends,” she said. GBW had wondered what sort of life sheenjoyed as her father’s sole child. Seclusion had seemed a likely possibility, but she’d definitely beenallowed to make friends among the other upper-class families. The politics in the city seemedincomprehensible. Her father was theunquestioned ruler, but there were limits on his power that none of them had beenable to understand. “But not everyonebelieves me. They are scared of thebarbarians.”

GBW hesitated, trying to find the words. “The barbarians are violent, but they have nodiscipline,” he said, echoing Kit’s words. He hoped that his friend was right. “They want people to be scared of them so that their victims won’t tryto fight back. You don’t have to bescared, you just have to be prepared to defend yourself.”

He wondered if Ekaterina really understood what hemeant. Girls in her world – upper-classgirls, at least – didn’t defend themselves. None of them had any training in using the short swords that every man –apart from the slaves – carried. Ericahad commented that the men liked their women defenceless, but it made littlesense to GBW. Or maybe it made perfectsense. Girls like Ekaterina werenormally married off as soon as they became women, often to men who were olderthan them by some decades. The men wouldn'twant their wives trying to fight back when they were first taken to the marriagebed.

The thought sickened him and he felt another surge ofprotectiveness. How could anyone treat their wives and daughterslike chattel? But it was a common traitin human history, before the industrial revolution. Upper-class women were pampered, but used ascommodities to be traded by their fathers; lower-class women were worked todeath, often dying in childbirth or of starvation – or disease, because they didn'teat well enough to survive something that wouldn't bring down an aristocrat. Maybe, when they left, they could take Ekaterinawith them. Erica would definitely approve.

“But they are scared,”Ekaterina said, bringing the conversation back to safer ground. “Why has the God-King not sent help? We have sent messages to him, begging for soldiers– even offering to pay for the soldiers. But he has sent nothing. We donot even know if he has read our messages. All we have is you.”

“We’ll do what we can to save you,” GBW promised, andhoped to hell that they could keep that promise. “And then you will stand on the brink of awhole new era.”

Looking at Ekaterina, he wasn't sure if she believed himor not.

***​

“But you have to understand that there are little devilseverywhere, trying to get into the bloodstream,” Erica said. She’d spent days trying to explain theconcept of germs to the local midwives, before borrowing a suggestion from oneof Bruno’s books and defining germs as little devils. “Boiling your tools and washing your handswill kill the little bastards before they get into the body. People will be more likely to survive afteryou treat them if you drive out the devils.”

There wereonlythree professions allowed to women, apart from slavery; courtesan, priestessand midwife. The medical guild held amonopoly on doctors, but the midwives weren’t part of their guild. Erica wasn't sure if the doctors had refusedto accept that midwives were medical professionals or if the locals werereluctant to allow males into the birthing chambers, but either way it hardlymattered. Unlike the male doctors, whohad reacted to the new knowledge with scorn and disbelief, the midwives hadsoaked it up rapidly. They'd seen toomany women – young girls, really – die in childbirth.

The local medical knowledge was primitive, far more sothan Erica had realised when they’d arrived. What passed for surgery was just as likely to kill the patient than the originalwound – they knew how to amputate limbs, but their wooden legs were poorsubstitutes for missing legs. Dentaltreatment was a form of torture – hell, Erica wouldn't have been surprised todiscover that their doctors moonlighted as torturers. They had a quaint local law that no evidencecould be admitted in court – at least from a lower-class person – unless it hadbeen extracted through torture. Nowonder that the locals avoided doctors like the plague.

She smiled as she watched the midwives absorbing moreknowledge. Everything was so stratified, but that was about tochange. The guilds would no longer havea monopoly on their knowledge, particularly if the midwives kept educating theother women. Girls didn't seem to go toschool here – apart from some women from wealthy families, like Ekaterina – butthe midwives spread knowledge everywhere. Their folk remedies and magical spells would be replaced by insightsdenied to their male counterparts. Thelong-term effects would be unpredictable. Already, some of the midwives were trying to learn English. Who knew where it would all end?

There was a violent knock on the door, which burst opento reveal one of the junior priestesses. The midwives worked closely with their religious sisters – in some ways,the midwives were almost a religious order in themselves – and the priestessesprovided political cover for their activities. No man would dare to enter their temples, least he be castrated and setto work as an eunuch. The priestessesguarded their secret rites carefully.

“My Lady, the Lord has sent a carriage for you,” thepriestess said. “The barbarians havereached our walls.”

Erica touched the pistol she wore under the flowing robesEkaterina insisted were fashionable for young women in the city. If the barbarians were here...she looked overat the midwives and saw terror on many of their faces. They’d all heard about what the barbariansdid to female captives, even the lucky ones who were adopted into a triberather than simply raped and then left to die. None of them wanted to face such an end.

“There is no need to panic, just yet,” she said, keepingher voice calm. She’d survived a Nazi attemptto sacrifice her to the gods. A horde ofbarbarians wasn't quite as terrifying. “Theyhave yet to break into the city.”

She smiled up at the priestess. “I’ll go see the walls myself,” shesaid. Kit’s plan to build cannons hadproduced some successes – and more failures. The local metal wasn't perfect for building guns. “They won’t get into the city.”

 

Chapter Twenty<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



Panic was spreading through the city as Erica made herway to the walls. The thousands ofrefugees from the outlying towns and farms were making a horrible din, getting inthe way of the soldiers as they scrambled to man the walls. Each of the temples suddenly seemed to havedeveloped its own loudspeaker, with the priests loudly lamenting the arrival ofthe barbarians and calling upon the God-King to save them from theirenemies. Some of the priests called downcurses upon the new learning, clearly believing that it was the arrival ofgunpowder and genuine medical knowledge that had doomed the city. Erica couldn't believe that some people couldbe that stupid. From what they’dlearned, the barbarians had been encroaching on the empire for years, longbefore they’d arrived in the RV.



The soldiers barred her way up to the watchtower atfirst, only to step aside when she showed them the medal the Lord of the Cityhad given her. Clambering up was trickyand she was silently grateful that she’d chosen to wear trousers rather thanthe long dresses favoured by upper-class women in the city, even if it didsuggest that she was a prostitute to unthinking male minds. The concept of proper dress for women wassomething else she resolved to try and change, if they stuck around for thenext few years. This timeline hadsuddenly become a great deal less safe.



Kit was waiting for her on the walls, peering through atiny gap in the stone down towards the barbarians below. He seemed rather unworried by the oncomingstorm, although he might have been supremely confident in the walls and theweapons he’d helped the locals to develop. Erica was much less sure. Thewalls might be able to withstand a direct assault, but starvation was going tobecome a problem very quickly. On theother hand, the barbarians – from all accounts – were hardly a properarmy. They might be reluctant to spendthe next few weeks laying siege to the city.



“Don’t stick your head above the barricades,” Kit warned,as she bent down beside him. “Some oftheir archers are very good. They tookout a handful of guards before they even realised that the city was under attack. If they’d managed to take one of the gates...”



“They would have taken the city,” Erica agreed. Absently, she wondered in how many timelinesthey had already started to storm and pillage the once-great city. There was no way to know. “Should you be poking your head into thechink?”



“We have to know what’s going on outside,” Kit said. “There was a whole city at one time that wascowering behind its walls, convinced that the enemy were waiting to storm thecity the moment they let down their guard. And then a young girl decided to go look over the walls...and discoveredthat the enemy army had just marched off, leaving them perfectly safe. There was an old folk song about it.”



“And exactly how many times did that happen in the ancientworld?” Erica demanded. They’d been reading through all theinformation in Bruno’s copy of Wikipedia about the ancient world, even thoughmany of the figures she vaguely recalled from her father’s lessons had neverexisted, or had led radically different lives. The only famous Roman known to the locals was Cicero, who had apparentlyruled Rome for the God-King before dying in a rebellion against his rule. Julius Caesar and Pompey the Great shouldhave been his contemporaries, but none of the locals had ever heard of eitherof them. Perhaps they’d both beenremoved from history when the God-King had purged the Roman elite. “Sieges always worked, unless a relief armyarrived in time to save the city.”



“Or if the attackers took horrific losses trying to stormthe city,” Kit countered. He shrugged asa flight of arrows started to flash over the walls. Erica couldn't see how they hoped to hitanyone – and then realised that the barbarians were firing at random, trying toterrify the population. There were somany people on the streets that they almost hadto hit someone, and each death would weaken the city still further. “But I think they’re counting on us eithergiving up, or being weakened by our internal problems.”



He nodded towards a line of soldiers, who weremanhandling the first cannons into position. It wasn't a job Erica envied them, not when the metal was far fromperfect and the cannons had a nasty habit of exploding part of the time insteadof hurling cannonballs towards their targets. Other soldiers carried cloth bags of gunpowder and lights, ready to setthe bags on fire and hurl them down towards the enemy below. It was an immensely risky stunt, but thelocals seemed to accept it without flinching. There was a fatalism ingrained in their character that made little senseto her, although they did grow up knowing that life was hardly a bed ofroses. A sickness that would have been aminor issue back home would kill or cripple one of the locals. No wonder they believed that Alexander was agod. His immortality alone separated himfrom the common herd.



She pushed the thought aside and peered down towards thebarbarians. They were an immense horde,some riding camels and horses, others walking on their own two legs, allcarrying weapons and bags of food. Itlooked as though they were settling in for the long haul, although she doubtedthat they could carry enough to feed their men and animals for long. Perhaps they’d send their horses back to thedesert once they’d finished laying siege to the city, she reasoned. The horses wouldn't be much good in the siegeunless the defenders managed to make a sally that scattered the barbarians andsent the survivors fleeing for their lives.



More arrows thudded into the walls, one bare millimetres fromstriking her eye. She jumped backwards,feeling shocked; Kit caught her before she could brush against the inner edgeof the wall and fall to the ground. Ithad seemed an intellectual exercise until the game had suddenly turnedlethal. She grabbed her pistol in onehand, ready to open fire on the barbarians below, but Kit shook his head. Her hands were shaking so much she couldn't haveaimed properly, even if she’d known who had fired the near-fatal shot.



“It’s real,” she muttered. Kit gave her an odd look, and then nodded inunderstanding. “It’s all real.”



“Of course it is,” Kit said. He shrugged. “At least we helped give them a chance at surviving the coming fewweeks.”



Trumpets blew along the walls as Ekaterina’s father climbedup, escorted by a squad of heavily-armed men. He wore a suit of golden armour with a long cloak flowing out behind himin the wind, carrying both a short sword and a long spear. It took Erica a moment to recognise it as ajavelin, a spear that could be thrown at the enemy. In the days before modern medicine, even aslight wound could become infected and kill the victim, or at the very least forcethem to amputate a limb.



“Your Eminence,” Kit said, with a bow. Beside him, Erica nodded. Ekaterina’s father was very liberal-mindedfor his time, but he seemed to ignore her because of her sex. It was almost as if she didn't quite existfor him, a woman with what he thought of as mannish attributes. Maybe he thought she was a lesbian. She certainly wore sensible shoes instead ofthe sandals or high heels favoured by the local upper-class women. “The enemy is at the gates.”



“Of course they are,” Ekaterina’s father said. He sounded confident, but Erica suspectedthat it was an act for the benefit of his watching soldiers – and his politicalenemies in the city below. Consortingwith the newcomers had certainly made him any number of new enemies, fromestablished interests threatened by the arrival of new technology to priestswho suspected that their mere existence was a challenge to the God-King. “They will not break into my city.”



There was a deafening howl from outside, echoing from athousand barbarian throats. Ericaglanced through the knothole and saw the barbarians psyching themselves up forthe first offensive. Some of them seemedto be nearly naked, waving their private parts at the defenders; others seemedto wear armour they’d probably taken from the other towns and cities they’dransacked. She wished, desperately, fora handful of machine guns and plenty of ammunition. If they’d been able to steer the RV, shewould have suggested going to a timeline where machine guns were available freely,obtaining them and anything else they might need, and then bringing them backin time to devastate the barbarian horde. But it wasn't going to be.



Ekaterina’s father barked orders and more men took uppositions on the walls, mostly preparing to repel attackers when they tried toput ladders against the stone and climb up to attack the defenders. The soldiers gave the cannons a wide berth,she noted, a number making signs to ward off evil in their generaldirection. They’d probably be happierwith reliable weapons, she considered, wondering if Ekaterina’s father understoodwhat had been unleashed upon his world. Once they had reliable cannons, defending cities would become a greatdeal harder. Maybe he had long-termambitions for overthrowing the God-King and declaring himself Emperor of theknown world. If Alexander was onlyimmortal, there was no reason why someone couldn't lock him up in a dungeon andthrow away the key.



“Here they come,” Kit said. The barbarians howled again, and lungedtowards the city. It looked chaotic, butmany of their leaders carried long wooden ladders, ready to try to scale thewalls. Others carried ropes attached tograppling hooks. They looked likesomething out of a Batman comic, but if they knew how to use them to scrambleup the walls, they’d be formidable enemies. More and more arrows kept flashing over the walls, forcing the defendersto duck. It would be much harder to seethe enemy before they came over the walls. “Do you want to get back to...?”



Erica gave him a sharp look. “No,” she said. She wasn't going to let him treat her like a weak female, even if the locals thought womenwere only good for cooking, cleaning and bearing children. They didn't seem to consider homosexuality asin. Kit had probably had plenty of funwith some of his guards. “I’m going tostay and fight.”



Kit nodded and looked over at the gunners. “They’re ready to fire,” he assured Ekaterina’sfather. “On your command...”



“Fire,” Ekaterina’s father barked.



Three of the cannon fired at once, throwing makeshiftgrapeshot down towards the barbarian horde. Hundreds of them staggered underits impact, falling to the ground and being trampled by their onrushingfellows. The fourth cannon seemed tojam, and then exploded with terrific force. Erica saw one of the gunners fall to his death, another staggeringbackwards so badly wounded that he would have been unlikely to survive anywhere,even in a modern hospital. The stench ofburning human flesh reached her and she had to swallow hard to prevent herselffrom throwing up, knowing that it would only make her lose face among thelocals. None of them seemed bothered bythe deaths...



The barbarians in the lead might have had second thoughts,but the ones behind them kept pushing the attack onwards, screaming as theyreached the walls. Erica saw a grapplinghook attach itself to the wall in front of her and ran forward, pushing at itand sending it falling back over the side. She thought she heard a scream as a barbarian fell back and hit theground, but she might have just been imagining it. The colossal din was overwhelming. Ekaterina’s father was still barking orders,yet it seemed impossible that anyone could hear him over the racket. There was a thud, followed by a pair ofbarbarians appearing – as if my magic – on the walls. Two soldiers ran forward and slashed themdown before they had a chance to jump down and wreck havoc. A third barbarian appeared on the wall; Kitshot him before anyone else had a chance to react. His body tumbled over the side and fell downthe outside of the walls. Erica hoped,for a brief moment, that he’d knocked down some of the other barbarians whowere trying to climb their way up.



Kit’s makeshift grenade throwers were lighting thepouches of gunpowder and throwing them over the walls. The results seemed rather more disappointing thanKit had expected, but the barbarians were thrown into disarray. They couldn't use their archers with so manyof their own people trying to scale the wall, which allowed the soldiers tocatch them and push them back before they managed to gain ground. If they did gain ground on the wall, they’dhave their chance to gain control of the city before the reserves wereassembled and sent to push them back out again – or, more likely, slaughterthem all.



A barbarian lunged over the wall and came right at her,yelling insanely. Erica raised her ownsword instinctively and he impaled himself on it, the force of the impactsending her staggering backwards and nearly toppling her over the insidewall. The sight of so much blood stunnedher; somehow, the dying barbarian kept moving forward, his hands graspingdesperately for her throat. She couldn'thelp letting go of the sword and watching him stagger to the ground, justbefore one of the other soldiers lopped off his head with a quick slice beforeturning back to the wall. Erica juststared at the body, unsure of what to do. Everything just seemed to have faded away from her mind...



“Watch your back,” Kit said. He’d had only a few weeks of training withthe sword, but it was more than most of the barbarians had. Privately, he’d admitted that the worst soldierin the local army had more endurance than anyone he’d seen on his militarysummer camp experiences. The locals hadto carry more than modern soldiers, outside Special Forces units. In a bare-knuckle fight, Kit had claimed he wouldn'tknow who would win. “The bastards arepushing us hard.”



Erica looked back along the walls. They weren't the only place where thebarbarians were trying to get over the walls; there were a dozen places where soldierswere fighting desperately to repel the invaders. Barbarian bodies seemed to be everywhere,leaving blood on the battlements for the defenders to slip over as they keptfighting. The battle seemed to havelasted for hours, but a glance at her watch showed that it had been nothingmore than fifteen minutes. And yet she wasutterly exhausted.



She retrieved her sword and moved up behind Kit, coveringhis back as another wave of barbarians seemed to catapult themselves over thewalls. There seemed to be no end totheir numbers, while the forces available to repel them kept diminishing. Ekaterina’s father had to have sent in hisreserves by now, surely? But if he triedto defend the entire wall, he might lose in one part and lose everywhere. A barbarian stared at her, perhaps surprisedto see a woman armed with a sword, and she took the opportunity to stab him inthe throat. This time, the blood didn't botherher at all. Part of her was deeplyworried by that, but the rest of her found it hard to care. They’d been in more danger in the Nazi-dominatedworld, or even in the post-nuclear holocaust world.



And then there seemed to be no more barbarians. The sound of the fighting slowly faded away,allowing her to hear the cries of the wounded. Carefully, she glanced through one of the knotholes and saw most of theremaining barbarians retreating at speed, leaving thousands of bodies litteredin their wake. They’d been beaten, sherealised, even though she hadn't known that the tide was turning until thebattle was already over. The soldiers onthe walls relaxed slightly, and then turned their attention to the barbarianwounded. Those who had survived theinjuries that had laid them down were promptly killed, their throats cut beforethey could beg for mercy. Their bodieswere hauled over the wall and dropped down to rest with their fellows.



“They’ll have to bury them,” Kit commented. He looked terrible, sweat staining his faceand blood covering his armour – hopefully, none of it his. “If they stay there, disease and deprivationwill stalk this land like...two giant stalking things.”



Erica couldn't raise a smile. Now the battle was over, she was starting toshake; she put the sword down hastily before she accidentally hurtherself. Kit reached out and put an armon her shoulder, providing what little comfort he could. Part of her just wanted to be held, the restof her was grimly aware that she didn't dare show weakness. Who knew what the locals would do if theyscented weakness?



“We won,” Kit said, as they started to clamber down fromthe walls. The entire city was slowlycoming to life again, with priests hurrying to their temples to send up prayersof gratitude to the God-King, even though Alexander had done nothing to aid thecity. Erica wondered if the priestswould have a change of heart about the new innovations, before realising thattheir gratitude wouldn't last very long. The barbarians would have killed them quickly, but the new innovations wouldslowly take away their livelihoods. “It'stime to celebrate!”



“Yeah,” Erica agreed, remembering the wounded barbariansbeing killed. The locals might have beenmore civilised than the barbarians, but maybe not by much. “And maybe we should leave now, while thegoing is good.”

 

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><font size="3">Chapter Twenty-One<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com
“I wish to marry GBW,” Ekaterina said.

Erica blinked at her, for a moment simply failing tocomprehend her words. Ekaterina had onlyknown GBW for nearly a month and she wanted to marry him? A moment later, her mind caught up and sherealised that Ekaterina’s father would want a blood tie between his householdand the newcomers. Given the way thelocals thought about families, it would be the perfect way to ensure that theirinterests remained aligned. No one wouldconsider turning on their families, unless they were already lost to madness.

“You mean your father wishes you to marry him,” Ericasaid. Despite the situation, she foundit hard to prevent a giggle from escaping her lips. GBW...she liked him and he was a good person,but he might not want to stay with Ekaterina forever. And besides, what would happen when the timecame to leave this world? “What do youfeel about it?”

Ekaterina looked surprised that Erica had bothered toask. “I am at my father’s disposal,” shesaid. “I always knew that I would bemarried to someone one day – I was meant to marry before we first met. Your friend...is nicer and younger thananyone I could have expected to be told to marry and serve as a wife.”

It was an attitude that Erica found hard tocomprehend. A wife wasn't her husband’s obedientservant, not where she came from. Buthere...a wife might be mistress of the household, but she was expected to deferto her husband in all other matters, from childrearing to politics. Hell, she wasn't expected to have anything to do with politics, although asmart woman from the right household could cast a long shadow into thepolitical arena. Some of the articlesthey’d found on Wikipedia had noted that Alexander’s mother had been adominating presence in his empire until the day she died. Whatever immortality was enjoyed by her sonhadn’t come from her.

But maybe Ekaterina’s attitude made sense. GBW wasnice, and he definitely wouldn't treat her as a slave. And she wouldn't have to leave her home andgo away from her father and what remained of her family. GBW would probably be quite happy to staywith her, in her view; what could he get elsewhere that he couldn't get in thecity? She had no comprehension of wherethey’d come from, or how they travelled from world to world; Erica and Kit hadinsisted that they keep that to themselves. What would happen if GBW wanted to live in a world with hot and coldrunning water?

“I had to ask you how I should approach the subject,” Ekaterinasaid, earnestly. “If he had been born inthis city, my father would speak to his father about it – but his father is along way away. I thought you might knowhow to arrange the marriage...”

Erica shook her head slowly, for once utterly unsure ofhow to proceed. How could she ask GBW ifhe wanted to marry Ekaterina? And whatwould her father do if GBW said no? Askher to marry Kit, or Bruno, or even Cecil? The former General was younger than her, probably below legal age to getmarried back home, but the locals had a more flexible attitude to the age ofconsent. Hell, they didn't even have a proper age of consent. A woman could marry as soon as she started tobleed regularly.

She ran through a set of possible conversations in hermind, but none of them promised to end well. How could she ask GBW? It seemedabsurd; back home, GBW would have been expected to arrange his own marriage, orat least propose in person. The idea ofparents being involved – vetting his wife, she thought wryly – would have beenhorrific. And yet it had worked fairlywell in the ancient world, at least in the eyes of everyone important. That category probably hadn't included mostof the wives.

“You might want to ask him yourself,” she said,seriously.

“I can't ask a man to marry me,” Ekaterina said, shocked. “That would be improper.”

“Nothing about this situation is proper,” Erica pointedout. Part of her just wanted to round upthe others and leave this world behind, maybe abandoning Cecil if he wanted tostay and be the General. He wouldn't beable to do so much hard on this world. “GBW’sfamily are a long way away. He wouldhave to make the choice for himself.”

Ekaterina looked up at her, nervously. “Do you think they’d approve of me?”

“I’m sure they would,” Erica said. Ekaterina was smart – and certainly muchbetter educated than the average girl in this world. Her brains would have taken her far in anyworld. It crossed her mind that theycould take her home with them, but they might just be leaping from the fryingpan into the fire. “I really think thatyou should ask him yourself.”

She hesitated. “Ifyou like, I could discuss it with him,” she added, “but you really need to talkto him personally about it. GBW...issometimes too nice for his own good.”

The thought made her smile. GBW wouldn't want to marry Ekaterina if Ekaterinadidn't want to marry him. And he’d askhimself, over and over again, if she wanted to marry him because she loved himor if her father had ordered her to marry him. The locals might find arranged marriages perfectly normal, trusting thatlove would grow between two people when they were living together, but it wasn'tnormal where they came from. GBW waslikely to worry himself to death over it.

“Please,” Ekaterina said. “I would be ever so grateful...”

There was a sharp knocking at the door. Ekaterina broke off and stood up, her longgreen-blue dress falling over her body in waves of rippling silk. They were alone, eating together; typically,neither of them had been invited to the victory feast. Most of the city would be celebrating tonight,even the slaves. They'd known what wouldhappen if the barbarians invaded the city. Kit had had to talk Ekaterina’s father into having the slaves dig pitsoutside the city and bury the dead before they started to rot. The barbarians wouldn't have shown that much considerationwhen they rode away from the burning city.

Ekaterina opened the door...and a black-shirted manlunged in, one hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Two more followed him, both jumping towardsErica before she could draw her pistol. The leader cannoned into her and knocked her to the marble floor, hishands ruthlessly ransacking her body. For a moment, Erica wondered if they were going to try to rape her,before she realised that he was frisking her and removing anything that mightbe dangerous. His weight pressed down onher, making it impossible for her to move; she couldn't even bring up her kneeto slam into his groin. One handclutched her throat as he moved off her, and then rolled her over witheffortless ease. Her hands were tiedbehind her back and a cloth was shoved in her mouth, preventing her from cryingfor help. A hand pushed her face intothe marble, leaving her helpless.

Relax, Ericatold herself firmly. They saw her asdangerous, or else they wouldn't have bothered to tie her up. She would wait, allow them to relax and thenmake her move. Carefully, she tested thebonds, realising that it would be impossible to wriggle free. The men were clearly experienced in tyingpeople up. Slavers, perhaps, sheconsidered, waiting for one of them to come back into view. They wore black hoods that covered their entirefaces, concealing their identities. Erica suspected that they had reason to fear. Kidnapping her alone was bad, but Ekaterina –who had been tied up beside her – was the daughter of the local ruler. Taking her, putting her in a position whereher virginity might have been compromised, would reduce her value on the marriagemarket. The locals encouraged men tohave sex with slave girls, but women were expected to remain chaste. It was a display of hypocrisy that made hersick.

The man pushing her down tied her feet together, and thenpicked her up with a grunt. Erica foundherself balanced over his shoulder, her jaw bumping endlessly against hisback. She saw one of the others pick up Ekaterina,before her captor started to carry her out of the room and down a series ofempty corridors. The building wasnormally humming with activity, with notables paying court to Ekaterina’sfather or servants buzzing from room to room, but today it was deserted. Everyone would be at the victory feast, Ericarealised, the perfect opportunity for a kidnap. She twisted her head to look at the man carrying Ekaterina. Was he a priest, a scribe, an accountant...orsomething else? Maybe the barbarians hadmanaged to subvert people on the inside. It had been a well-known tactic during ancient warfare, even though –according to Wikipedia – traitors were rarely rewarded with money andland. They were never trusted again andsometimes handed back to their outraged fellow citizens to face justice attheir hands. The idea of rewardingtreachery to encourage it had come later.

They reached a colossal pointing of the God-King that she’dadmired on their first visit to the palace and stopped. The man who wasn't carrying either of thegirls tapped at the portrait, which clicked and slide open, revealing adarkened passageway leading away from the palace. Erica stared as her captor marched forwardand into the semi-darkness, the portrait sliding back into position to masktheir escape. A whole secret passagewayleading to the palace...Erica would have bet good money that Ekaterina’s fatherdidn't know about its existence. Giventhe reverence the locals showed to depictions of Alexander the Great, perhapsno one had ever dared touch it to discover the hidden passageway. How old was the city? The story-tellers who had filled in much ofthe background for them had claimed that the city was over two thousand years old. Whoever had built the passageway had died andthe secret had been forgotten.

She found it harder to breath as they kept going throughthe darkened passageway, until they finally came out into the light. They were in what looked like a stable, witha set of horses peering at them while chewing hay. Her captor took her from his shoulder, stareddown at her for a long moment, and then placed her on one of the horses, tyingher firmly to the horse’s saddle. Theposition kept her completely immobile, her hair hanging down towards theground. Ekaterina would have realproblems, Erica realised, as she heard a moan from her stunned friend. Her hair was long enough to brush against theground and get tangled in the horse’s hooves.

“You know where to take them,” a voice said. Erica recognised it; the speaker was the HighPriest of the God-King, one of the most vocal opponents of any change to thestatus quo. If he’d kidnapped them, Godalone knew what he intended to do to his captors. Human history showed a wide range of precedents,none of them good. “Do not permit themto escape.”

Erica would have laughed, if the cloth hadn't been jammedin her mouth. She was bound, gagged andcompletely immobile. Even if they untiedher, she’d be too badly cramped to walk. Her body jerked as the horse started to move out of the stable andoutside, into the darkening sky. Shelooked back and saw the lights of the city in the distance; somehow, they’dbeen brought outside the walls! Thebarbarians clearly hadn't known of the passageway either, or they would haveused it to sneak into the city. Just howlong had it been since someone – anyone – had used the secret corridor?

The horse started to gallop away from the city, leavingher friends behind. Erica felt cold,realising that she might be unable to escape and find her way back to theRV. She was alone, defenceless, andcompletely at their mercy. How would herfriends ever be able to find her?

As the lights of the city faded away into the distance,Erica made herself a solemn promise. Whatever they did to her, she would survive – and extract revenge. The changes they’d already introduced in thesociety were nothing compared to what she would do in the future...the HighPriest and his gang of clowns wouldn’t know what had hit them. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but it was allshe had to stave off despair.

***​

“They took my daughter!”

Ekaterina’s father sounded furious. GBW didn't blame him. He’d been talking in riddles all evening,discussing Ekaterina’s many virtues, leaving him wondering what was goingon. But his daughter had vanished...andthe kidnappers, whoever they were, had taken Erica with them as well. Ekaterina’s father seemed convinced that Ekaterinahad been the target – she was the last of his line, the only one who could bearhim grandchildren – but GBW wasn't so sure. Erica might have been the real target. It had been foolish of them to allow her to be isolated because of hersex, he told himself, and cursed the day it had seemed easier to go along withthe local traditions. They should neverhave agreed...

“I will have my revenge,” Ekaterina’s fatherthundered. “They took my daughter!”

He continued speaking, so rapidly that GBW could nolonger understand him. Kit listenedcarefully, providing a limited translation. Ekaterina’s father enemies had clearly decided to cripple him by takinghis daughter, but they’d underestimated the man. He could not allow such an act to gounpunished, even if it risked Ekaterina’s – and Erica’s – life. The local standards would not allow it.

Bruno headed over to GBW and they moved away from theothers. “We have to get her back,” Brunosaid. “Can any of that knowledge in yourhead help us?”

GBW hesitated. Intruth, the knowledge had seemed to fade over the weeks they’d spent in theprimitive city. There had been no needfor it, so it had slipped into the back of his mind. But now...no matter how he thought, nothingseemed to be helpful. There was no wayto separate Erica’s presence from the locals. Maybe an advanced radiation detector could have helped – they might havepicked up a charge from the graveyard world – but there was no way to produceone. They’d never thought to bringanything along those lines when they’d left their homeworld.

“I don’t think so,” he admitted. Erica...they had to recover her, and Ekaterina. She would be a complete stranger in a worldthat cared little for the rights of women. What would they do to her? Therewere too many possibilities, none of them good. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

The guards announced the High Priest, who oiled his wayinto the room, smiling in a manner GBW didn't like at all. It took no imagination at all to believe thathe was the one who had kidnapped the girls, perhaps intending to use them toforce Ekaterina’s father into abandoning the new learning they’dintroduced. Not that they were short ofenemies, GBW reminded himself, angrily. In hindsight, they’d been insanely careless with their safety. Erica might have been just as easily murderedas kidnapped.

He couldn't hear the discussion between the High Priestand Ekaterina’s father, but he saw her father’s reaction. Drawing his sword in one smooth motion, Ekaterina’sfather beheaded the High Priest before he had a chance to jump backwards. His body hit the ground with a sickeningthud, his head flying through the air until it struck the wall and fell down toland in an absurd pose. He lookedremarkably surprised for one who had thought that he was in charge of theworld. Few people would dare to strike apriest.

“He said that they’d taken the girls to the God-King,”Kit said, quietly. There was a worriedtone in his voice. “Does that mean thatthey’ve been killed?”

“The God-King did nothing to aid us when the barbariansthreatened our walls,” Ekaterina’s father bellowed. “We asked for troops and money and he sentnothing! And when we saved ourselves,his priests kidnapped my daughter! Thiscannot be tolerated! We will marchagainst the God-King tomorrow and then we will see who is blessed of the gods!”

GBW watched him march out to rally his troops. Maybe they did believe that the God-King wasa demigod, but the locals weren’t stupid. They'd know that the God-King had done nothing to help them...yet wouldthey dare rise against him? And if theyrefused, what would happen to Ekaterina’s father? He’d burned his bridges when he’d executed thepriest.

“I think we need to get after her,” Bruno said. “How long will it take him to get an armymarching?”

“Maybe a few days,” Kit hazarded. “But with cannon, they’d have a certainadvantage over any other force on this world. They wouldn’t need to lay siege to the God-King’s city when they couldbatter down the walls by force. And thatwould show the population that the God-King is hardly divine.”

“But how long will it take the army to get to him?” GBW protested. He wanted to head after Erica – and Ekaterina. He couldn't lie to himself that he feltnothing for her. And her father had beenhinting at a more intimate relationship. “Maybe we should go on ahead.”

“I think that would be a good way to get killed,” Kitsaid. He tapped his swordmeaningfully. “We stick with the army –and then we show the God-King and his legions what a little knowledge can do.”

 

Chapter Twenty-Two<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



Erica groaned as the wagon lurched to a halt. After the first night spent in the desert,their captors had met up with a small convoy of armed soldiers and wagons –including one that had clearly been designed for transporting slaves orprisoners from city to city. The twogirls had been manacled to the wagon and left inside to suffer as the convoyproceeded further and further away from safety. Erica had started to lose track of time. Had it been a few days since they’d been kidnapped, or had it beenlonger? Whoever had ordered the kidnapclearly intended to put them firmly out of reach.



The thought nagged at her mind when she wasn't trying tosleep. Back home, a person could drive acrossthe united states in a few days – or fly across it in a matter of hours. It was possible to get halfway around theworld in less than a day. But here...afew hundred miles might as well be light years, taking the locals days or weeksto cover. If the guys had set out atonce in pursuit, it would still take them days to catch up with her...Erica’smind hurt, trying to do the maths. It didn'thelp that she had no idea where they were, or any way of finding out. Their captors would probably keep suchdetails from them, as a matter of course. Even if they did, how could they hope to get back on their own?



Ekaterina groaned herself as she woke up and lookedaround, clearly hoping that the entire experience had been nothing more than abad dream, brought on by eating too many larks the previous night. She’d taken their captivity worse than Erica,having never experienced poverty or deprivation before. Erica had had her father’s idea of a properupbringing to help her, and survival skills that were probably useless in thisversion of North Africa. Her fatherwould have told her to wait, keep watching, and be ready to move when hercaptors gave her an opening. She rattledher chains mournfully as she heard the sound of voices from outdoors. None of them were loud enough for her to makeout the words.



The door was flung open, flooding the interior of thewagon with bright sunlight. Ericacringed away from it, half-closing her eyes as she tried to avoid the brightlight. They’d been in semi-darkness forthe entire trip. Two tough-looking menclimbed into the wagon and started to fiddle with their chains. Others, standing outside, were holding clubs,clearly ready for any attempt at a breakout. Erica allowed them to unchain her without a fight and gently push herout of the vehicle and down to the ground. The smell of the sea reached her nostrils, mixed with the stench ofcities in this particular timeline. Sheprobably stank worse after several days without a bath, she told herself. God alone knew what she might catch in thenew city, without boiled water or properly-cooked food.



She looked around, hoping that she would see cluespointing to their location, but saw nothing apart from statues of Alexander theGreat. The Macedonian God-King lookedparticularly unforgiving in one of them, although she told herself that it wasjust her imagination. There were fewpeople watching them, all wearing brightly-coloured robes that clashed togetherin a dizzying array of colours. Her headstarted to spin, although she wasn't sure if it was through hunger ordisorientation. Their guards gave them afew moments to regain their footing, and then started to push them towards amassive building. The dark entranceseemed to swallow light, almost like the darkness back in the junkyardworld. She wanted to stop, or startrunning for her life, but the guards kept pushing her forward, into thedarkness.



Inside, the building was dimly lit, illuminated only byfaintly-burning lanterns. There were no portraitson the walls, nothing she could see to mark their pathway out of thebuilding. They walked down a longcorridor and into a brightly-lit room, with four servant girls waiting forthem. As soon as the doors had closedbehind the newcomers, the girls went to work, undressing and washing Erica and Ekaterinathoroughly. Erica shivered, rememberingthe Nazis, before realising that she needed to wash. She probably stunk so badly that they’d haveno difficulty tracking her by scent alone.



The girls never spoke to them, but it wasn't until one ofthem opened her mouth that Erica realised that they had no tongues. Someone had reached into their mouths,removed their ability to speak, just to make sure that they couldn't shareanything they might have learned during their captivity. The thought made her sick; given the state ofmedicine in this world, it was quite likely that most of the mutes neversurvived the experience of having their tongues removed. She wanted to look at the damage, to see justhow much they’d lost, but couldn't think of how to ask. Ekaterina started to struggle as the girlsremoved her clothes, only to be held down and stripped before they started towash her. Erica shook her head. There was no point in struggling until theyhad a chance of escape.



She tried to relax as the girls buzzed around her,producing a golden gown that set off her eyes nicely, before starting to workon her face and hair. They were clearlybeing prettied up for something, although she couldn't imagine what. Ekaterina was a heiress in this world, afterall; maybe their captors planned to marry her off to someone who would thenhave a fair claim to her father’s title. Or maybe they merely intended to sell both girls into slavery...no, thatcouldn't be the case. There was noshortage of slaves in this world, even slaves who happened to be young andpretty women. There was no need tokidnap an aristocratic girl to force her to serve as a slave.



It took nearly an hour before the girls were satisfiedwith their work. They’d given Ekaterinaa flowing blue gown that seemed to set off her long dark hair, placing a tinyamount of powder on her face to bring out some colour. Erica was mildly surprised to see it – she hadn'tseen any cosmetics in this world before – but it was clear that the empire drewinspiration from all over the known world. Women rarely changed, her father had once sneered; they were alwaystrying to make themselves look beautiful. Cosmetics and perfume were probably as old as Adam and Eve. But then, the ideal of beauty kept changing. There had been times when a plump woman had been the ideal, before itchanged to a woman who was inhumanly thin. Maybe the women in this timeline binged instead of trying to slim...but Ekaterinawas slim.



The girls finally pushed them towards a door and opened it,revealing a pair of dark-skinned men wearing nothing more than loincloths. They nodded gravely to the slave girls andbeckoned for Ekaterina and Erica to follow them. Erica shrugged and did as they commanded,wondering if they’d had their tongues removed as well. They were clearly strong and formidablefighters, muscles rippling along their bare arms and legs. Like so many others from this timeline, she couldn'tplace their ethnic origin. Racism didn'tseem to exist here.



She smiled, despite herself. Slavery, the equal opportunity profession. But many slaves had at least an opportunity towork their way out of slavery, even climbing to the top in cities they’d beenbrought to against their will. Theirdescendents could enter the elite that ruled the empire, spreading their genesinto the ruling class. It was quitelikely that many of the elite would have mixed blood – and think nothing ofit. There was so much intermingling thatthe classical races might no longer exist. Himmler would have been horrified.



The guards led them into a large chamber and across afloor that seemed to be made of solid gold. Gold was everywhere; golden statues of long-dead heroes, goldenornaments, golden devices with purposes she couldn't fathom...there was enoughmoney, in one room, to buy almost anything she could imagine back home. The guards seemed to take it in their stride,walking directly through the room and up to a purple curtain, decorated with abat-shaped motif that sent chills down her spine. It reminded her, again, of the junkyard world– and the monster that had nearly killed them before they could escape.



They pushed the curtain aside and entered a second room,even larger than the first. It wasdominated by a golden throne, with a single occupant. The guards led them forward, stopped abouttwo metres from the throne, and pushed Erica and Ekaterina to their knees. Before Erica could object, the guardsfollowed them, prostrating themselves in front of the golden throne. Their heads banged the floor frantically,their eyes begging for Erica to follow suit. It felt humiliating to kneel, let alone to prostrate herself, but thereseemed to be no choice.



“Guards,” the God-King said. He had tobe the God-King. “Leave us.”



The guards banged their heads on the ground one finaltime, and then left the chamber. Ericanoticed that they never turned their backs on the God-King, but sidledbackwards until they reached the curtain and stepped through it with a finalbow. Ekaterina was whimpering slightly,as if she'd never expected to be facing Alexander the Great in person. Neither had Erica...she wondered if she daredraise her head and look at him directly. There was no way of knowing what protocol surrounded a living demigod...



“Stand up,” Alexander ordered. “Let me see you.”



Erica pulled herself to her feet and looked directly atthe God-King. He looked to be aroundfifty, with a long black beard and shaggy hair that fell down his back, yetthere was something about his bearing that suggested that he was farolder. His eyes were old enough to haveseen a thousand lifetimes, a thousand different sights that would have slowlyblurred together in his mind. Humans weren'tmeant to live so long. Whatever powerhad kept Alexander alive over the years had done nothing to alter hismind. She wondered, absently, if heremembered his own story any longer, or his early adventures and conquests...



She’d wondered, back when they’d first heard the story,if it was a trick. Priests could havecreated the myth of the God-King to serve their own purposes, with actorsplaying the role of Alexander whenever he had to make public appearances, butlooking into his eyes she knew that it was no trick. He was old, and very tired. The force that kept him alive could have madeit impossible for him to kill himself, let alone let others kill him. Some of the stories they’d heard...Alexanderhad survived being flogged, castrated and even beheaded. They’d seemed impossible, and yet...maybethere was some truth in them after all.



“Great King,” Ekaterina stammered. “I...”



“Silence,” Alexander said. His dark eyes seemed to fix on Erica. This was not a man who could be lied to, ormisled. Centuries of experience inreading people would give him a colossal advantage over the rest of theworld. “My priests report that you have comefrom the desert and brought new ideas with you. They tell me that you are dangerous. Where do you come from?”



Erica hesitated. “We’retravellers from a far distant land,” she said, finally. It was close to the truth, perhaps closeenough to satisfy him. “We helped yourloyal subjects resist the barbarian hordes.”



“A land outside my empire,” Alexander said,musingly. He looked at her sharply, thesheer force of his personality slamming into her like a hammer. “Where precisely do you come from?”



The answer slipped out before she could stopherself. “An alternate timeline,” shesaid. The God-King lifted one eyebrow,inviting her to continue. “A world whereyou didn’t gain your immortality...”



“But I am remembered,” the God-King said. It wasn't a question, leaving her wonderingjust how much his spies had found out before she’d been taken from thecity. “Such a world...what happened tomy empire, after my death?”



“Your successors tore it apart scrabbling over it,” Ericasaid. “Your children were eventuallymurdered by their guardians.”



Alexander seemed to take it in stride. “I have had many children, over the years,”he said. “And yet none of them haveshared my immortality. They grow old anddie, while I go on.”



Erica glanced at Ekaterina, and then asked the questionshe knew Ekaterina wanted to ask. “Whyhaven’t you sent any help to the cities being overrun by barbarians?”



Alexander seemed to shrug. “There have always been barbarians,” hesaid. “They come, they causedestruction, they are pushed back into the desert. There is no challenge in dealing withbarbarians, no reason to interfere...”



“People are dying,”Erica protested.



“I cannot die,” Alexander said. “As I grew older, I wondered if my fatherwould withdraw his gift.” It took Ericaa moment to realise that he meant Zeus. “Mychildren grew into adulthood, married and had children of their own – and died. But I am condemned to live forever. I have seen so much, done so much, that thereis no longer any challenge for me. Ihave built an empire that has reshaped the world, brought all of creation undermy domain...and yet I cannot die! Whatis left for me on this world?”



Erica understood and shivered. Alexander was bored of life, and yet unableto leave and go on to whatever fate awaited him in the next world. She remembered her grandmother’s final days,when she’d been almost waiting to die, yet she’d been nothing more thaneighty-seven. Alexander the God-King wasover two thousand years old. No wonder he hadn't been willing to stirhimself to do something about the barbarians. From his point of view, they were yet another plague that would come andgo within seconds.



She thought, briefly, of America. There would have been no contact betweenAlexander’s empire and the Native Americans....given time, who knew what theAztecs or the Incas would have grown into? Maybe there would be a new challenge over there, if she pointed himtowards America, or perhaps there would just be a bloody slaughter on bothsides. Or maybe the contact would be theother way around. She was mildlysurprised that there hadn't been any visitors from America. Maybe there had been and the evidence hadbeen suppressed long ago.



“The world is changing,” Erica said, slowly. “Some of what we have introduced will reshapeyour empire yet again. You will see newthings.”



“Perhaps,” Alexander said, “but that isn't what Iwant. I want to die. Can you help me die?”



Erica stared at him. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Haveyou tried to kill yourself?”



“I have taken poison,” Alexander said. “The doses should have killed a small army,but I survived. I have slashed at my ownskin, cutting my wrists or stabbing my heart, and yet I survived. Assassins have tried to strangle me, or putarrows through my head...”



“And you survived,” Erica said. “What happened to make you this way?”



Alexander hesitated. “I was in Babylon,” he said, slowly, as if the memory had been blurredover the years. “I was...I wasdying. I feared the worst, and yet I hadsuch great plans. And then they appearedto me.”



Erica frowned. “Whoappeared to you?”



“I don’t know,” Alexander said. “Dark shadows, appearing from the walls. I thought they were gods from the underworld,but now...I don’t know what they were. They spoke into my mind, telling me that they could give me life...and Iaccepted. I didn’t realise what lifeeternal actually meant! I didn't knowthat I would never be allowed to die.”



He stood up and grasped her wrist. “I have taken the entire world,” hehissed. “I have stamped my will on everycorner of this planet. My empire is asimmortal as I am, and yet I cannot die! I no longer care about anything, but my own death. I am tired of life.”



Erica winced against the pain. “I don’t know how to help you die,” sheadmitted, finally. His grip grewtighter. “But some of us could helpyou. Or we could take you to a whole newworld...”



Alexander seemed to consider it. “You would do that for me?”



“We could trade,” Erica said. “You help Ekaterina’s father against thebarbarians and spread the new learning – the information we brought – far andwide. In exchange, we take you toanother world and let you explore it. But we can’t promise that it will be a better world...”



“It will be something different,”Alexander said. He looked into hereyes. “Do you swear to take me with youwhen you leave?”



Erica couldn't look away. “We will take you,” she promised. But what would happen to the empire without Alexander? There would certainly be a bloody contestbetween his senior aristocrats and generals over who would wield supremepower. After two thousand years...shedreaded to think how many people could claim descent from Alexander. “And maybe we can figure out a way to makeyou die.”



Ekaterina stared at her, and then at Alexander. “But you’re the God-King,” sheprotested. “You cannot die...”



Alexander let go of Erica’s wrist. “But I have lived too long,” he said. “Maybe the only hope against the barbariansis my departure...”



The purple curtain was brushed aside and a priest ran in,throwing himself on his face in front of Alexander. “Majesty,” he said, as he banged his head onthe floor, “an army marches on the city! A Lord has rebelled against your immortal rule!”



Alexander, surprisingly, smiled. “Well,” he said. “This should be...interesting.”

 

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><font size="3">ChapterTwenty-Three<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com
“I don’t see why I had to come along,” Cecil muttered.

“Because we didn't want to leave you behind,” GBW said,with some irritation. His body hurt too –the march to Alexandria had taken four days, with what little sleep they’d hadon the hard ground – but they had to rescue Erica. The priests, when they’d been put to thequestion, had admitted that they’d sent her to the God-King, who had apparentlyexpressed an interest in the newcomers. Erica had only made the most convenient target for kidnappers, alongwith a hostage to make Ekaterina’s father more pliable when it came todemanding that the other newcomers were handed over. “What happens if we have to bug out of hereand leave you alone?”

He looked over at the RV, which was being pulled along bya pair of horses. Kit had suggesteddriving to Alexandria in the RV, but GBW had pointed out that they had only alimited supply of gas. Once they ranout, they would be stranded – and Bruno hadn’t bothered to fuel up the RVbefore they’d started hopping across alternate worlds. If they got home, or to somewhere closeenough to home, GBW intended to make sure that they picked up some equipmentbefore they set out on their travels again. Some fuel, gold coins, better weapons, medicine...anything that might beuseful. They’d probably wind up with somuch equipment that they’d need an aircraft carrier to carry it all. Maybe they could fit the device into anaircraft carrier and start sailing through alternate timelines.

“I wouldn't have minded,” Cecil said, firmly. “I am starting to grasp the local lingo.”

And the local babes,GBW thought, sourly. Cecil haddiscovered that the local slave girls simply couldn't say no. It hadn't taken him long to graduate tobanging as many of them as he could in a day, despite the dangers of gettingone or more of them pregnant. The localsdidn't know much about contraception and what they did know was rather unhygienic. He’d wanted to try to prevent Cecil fromenjoying himself, but they’d been too wrapped up in other things to say no allthe time. On the plus side, it had keptthe idiot out of his hair.

The army – two thousand infantry, two hundred horsemenand nine cannons – was marching along the road, heading east. Ekaterina’s father had admitted that in thelong term, the God-King would be able to muster millions of soldiers and crushhim like a bug, leaving their only hope a quick strike against the God-King’sown city and his capture. Kit hadn't beenso keen on the idea, pointing out that their advantages – such as they were –would be minimised once they got into the city itself, but Ekaterina’s fatherhad ignored him. Perhaps he thought thatspeed and boldness would win the day. Ithad certainly done so often enough for Alexander the Great.

A small cluster of camp followers shadowed the army,attempting to trade with the soldiers when they paused for the night. Some of them were prostitutes, lookingabsolutely unappealing in ragged clothes and bright makeup, but the soldiers didn'tseem to care. They knew that they mightbe dead when the battle came, so they enjoyed themselves while they could. Other followers were prisoners, scouts andmessengers from the God-King. It wasclear that Alexander already knew that the army was marching on his city. The real question was how much did he knowabout the cannon?

Kit pulled his horse over beside GBW. He was a natural horseman, of course; GBW wasconvinced that the beast he was riding was just plotting to unseat him and boltthe moment he saw an opening. Horses weren'this favourite animal by a long way. Thelocals had told him that the horse was a very even-tempered creature, but GBWhad his doubts. As the only other optionwas walking, he rode the animal and braced himself for the expected fall.

“That’s the walls of the city coming into view,” hesaid. They’d been able to see the seafor hours, along with hundreds of ships departing the city. The traders were clearly less than convincedthat the God-King’s army could protect them. “They’ve already closed them against our forces.”

“But they can keep bringing in supplies from overseas,”GBW said. He was no expert on ancient warfare,but he had learned a few things from studying the accounts of campaigns by suchnotables as Caesar, Pompey and even Alexander himself. Taking a city was difficult – and a great dealharder if there was no navy to cut off the city’s harbour. “No wonder they haven’t tried to fight us inthe open. They’re expecting us to break againsttheir walls.”

“Or try to hold a siege without a navy,” Kit agreed. “But they don’t know what cannon can reallydo.”

He smiled, nastily. “You know,” he added, “I could get to like living here.”

“Until you get wounded,” GBW said. The army was healthier than any other army inthis world, thanks to their improved sanitation and even food supplies, butthat would change rapidly once the battle began. “Would you rather have one of those sawbonescut off your hand or go to a proper hospital?”

“Maybe I could get some of what makes Alexander immortal,”Kit said, after a moment. “He lostpretty much everything he could and still got better. Some kind of functional nanotech, do youthink?”

GBW shrugged. Oddmemories from the knowledge Doctor What had shoved into his mind seemed to besurfacing, but they made little sense. Why would a race of god-like beings meddle with humanity by makingsomeone like Alexander the Great immortal? What did they get out of it? Maybe it was just an experiment, or maybe they hoped that humanity inthis timeline would become stagnant. Thelocals hadn't even grasped the basics of gunpowder, let alone steam power,before they’d arrived. They were a longway away from the scientific method.

“Perhaps,” he said. “Or maybe they just defined him as immortal – wrote it into the universeitself – and let it go on from there.”

Kit gave him an odd look and cantered away, down towardswhere Ekaterina’s father was preparing his troops. The city walls looked formidably strong,covered with guard towers and manned with armed soldiers. Kit had suggested digging a tunnel under thecity, packing it with gunpowder, and then blowing it up, but Ekaterina’s fatherhad pointed out that they didn't have time to waste. There were nearby cities and they’d besending what reinforcements they could to the God-King. They would have to depend on the cannon toeven the odds.

“Better stay back,” he said to Cecil, as the soldiers movedinto position. Like the barbarians, theyfired arrows towards the men on the walls, forcing them to stay undercover. The defenders fired back, tryingto force the attackers to keep their distance. Ekaterina’s father moved forward his men under massive wooden crates,almost like primitive tanks, using them to cover his men from the arrows. “We really don’t want to be caught in themiddle of that **** storm.”

Two thousand men seemed a vast army, until it wascontrasted against its target. Alexandria, the greatest city in the world, claimed a population of overfive million human beings, many ofwhom were completely devoted to the God-King. Other cities had temples to other gods, as well as Alexander, but hischosen city only worshipped himself. Hehad over ten thousand soldiers in the city, with the ability to raise othersfrom among the civilian population if necessary. They were badly outnumbered, GBW knew; thecannon were all they had to even the odds. The catapults hurling makeshift grenades and firebombs into the citywere an innovation, but Alexandria wasn't built of wood. Chances were that any fires wouldn't spreadrapidly enough to wreck the defences.

Ekaterina’s father kept barking orders, until the cannonwere in position, pointed right at the main gate. Smaller parties of men were targeting theother gates, hoping to force Alexander to spread his men thinly – although GBWhad his doubts about how easily the God-King would fall for such a trick. Two thousand years of experience fightingwars would make him a formidable tactician, particularly when none of hisopponents had been able to kill him and put an end to his empire. Death was a good teacher, particularly whenshe wasn't allowed to keep her pupils.

Kit left Ekaterina’s father and cantered over toGBW. “Here goes nothing,” he said. “Make sure you have your gun with you. If we get a chance, get after her and yourgirlfriend.”

GBW blushed. “She isn'tmy girlfriend.”

“Her father seems to like the idea of you and her gettingit on,” Kit said, with a leer. “Justremember that she’s from a very different society than ours...”

The roar of the cannon drowned out his final words. Nine massive cannonballs, the toughest they’dbeen able to produce, were blasted towards the main gate, slamming into it withterrifying force. Cracks appeared in thewalls, while the gate itself seemed to stagger back on its hinges. Even from a distance, GBW could sense thepanic gripping the defenders. They’dnever seen anything like it; even if Alexander had heard about how the cannonhad been used against the barbarians, he might not have realised that theycould be used against stone walls. Thegunners reloaded with frantic speed, cleaning the cannons and firing a secondround of cannonballs towards the defenders. This time, the main gate – made of solid metal – shattered inward,revealing shocked and wounded defenders. Ekaterina’s father started to order his men forward, before thedefenders mounted a charge out against his army. The cannons roared one final time and thedefending force simply disintegrated. Red-hot cannonballs shattered their ranks, leaving only dead or wounded soldiersin their path. The wall, the epitome of defensivetechnology in Alexander’s world, started to collapse. There was a howl of victory from theattacking force, which lunged forward to seize the main gate. The remaining defenders fled in front ofthem.

Ekaterina’s father ordered an advance, flooding his meninto the city. Inside, Alexandria waslittle different from his own city, GBW realised, although it had a sense ofage that seemed to press down on it like a shroud. There were fewer civilians in the way,thankfully; anyone with any wealth would have decided to sail away before thearmy arrived. The remainder seemed to beheading in the opposite direction as fast as they could. Some of the remaining defenders were sniping,firing arrows towards the attacking army, almost nailing Ekaterina’s fatherwith one shot. His men clustered aroundhim, shielding him from any other snipers, as they began to press into thecity. GBW hung back, staring at thecarnage. Beside him, Cecil was noisilysick. He’d helped the Nazis to win thewar and commit genocide on an unimaginable scale, but he’d never seen any ofthe death camps personally. Maybe theexperience of primitive warfare would help him to grow up a little.

The street-fighting rapidly became nightmarish. Civilians on the rooftops hurled heavyobjects down towards the soldiers, forcing them to burn houses to drive theinsurgents away from their positions. The dead and wounded started to pile up rapidly, both civilian andmilitary personnel. GBW saw a girlholding a dagger and taking a swipe at one of the soldiers, only to be knockedto the ground and have her undergarments removed by her target. He looked away as the girl began to scream,knowing that there was nothing he could do to help her. Rape was a fact of life in ancient warfare;even the greatest of commanders had had problems restraining their men. It didn't make it any easier to watch.

Slowly, the invaders battered their way towards the greatpalace in the heart of the city. It wasover two thousand years old, according to Ekaterina’s father; a mighty palacecovered with gold leaf and other reminders of the God-King’s wealth andpower. Unlike the other palaces, it wasn'tsurrounded by statues of Alexander, or a wall intended to keep enemy armiesaway from the building. It made sense,he supposed; if everyone considered the God-King to be a demigod, who woulddare attack him? Ekaterina’s father’sattitude was clearly exceptional, prompted by the kidnap of his daughter andthe refusal to help against the barbarians. Maybe Alexander had other problems on the edge of his empire. Given the limitations of their technology,there had to be plenty of places where his rule was felt lightly, if it wasfelt at all. Scotland, Siberia, Afghanistan...howmany of those places would accept rule by Alexander the Great?

A man appeared out of nowhere, lunging towards him with asword. GBW hesitated, and then shot himthrough the head. The locals seemed totake violent death in their stride, but he wasn’t used to it at all. He saw his target falling to the ground, tojoin the hundreds of others bleeding out. Few of them would survive long enough to face the doctors in this world,even though there was little the doctors could do for them. A modern-day clinic would have had problemswith some of the wounded. He saw a youngboy holding his chest, as if he could keep his guts from spilling out from hiswound. Blood was leaking away andstaining the ground. It wouldn't be longbefore death caught up with him.

The sound of trumpets managed to overcome the sound offighting, just for a few seconds. It waslong enough for most of the remaining defenders to scuttle backwards, just as asmall procession of priests emerged from Alexander’s palace. They carried a long purple cloak, which theywaved in the air. Ekaterina’s fatherbellowed for his men to hold their ground as the priests approached, theirimpassive faces betraying no fear as they reached the man who had killedseveral of their brethren. But then theyworked for a demigod. The thought offailing him had to be worse than dying at the hands of the attackers.

“Most noble lord, the God-King has sent us to request aparlay,” the senior priest said. Judgingfrom his robes, he was very senior indeed. “He wishes us to inform you that he has come to an agreement with thenewcomers.”

Ekaterina’s father rounded on Kit and GBW. “What deal have you made with him?”

“None, sir,” Kit said. GBW was equally puzzled. “We haveheard nothing from him...”

“He made the agreement with the girl he had brought tohis city,” the priest said. “He hasordered his men to stand down and surrender, provided you give them a guaranteeof good treatment and safe passage out of the city, if they so desire.”

Ekaterina’s father hesitated. The laws of warfare in this world were simpleenough; if the defenders surrendered before their walls were breached, theywere assured of good treatment, but if the attackers had to storm the city theywere likely to be massacred. But hisforce was too small to win a long drawn-out struggle for the God-King’scity. The fight could still go eitherway, while Alexander made his escape and summoned troopers from nearby citiesand garrisons.

“Very well,” Ekaterina’s father said, finally. “I will give you my personal guarantee ofgood treatment. Now, take me to theGod-King.”

GBW followed him and his bodyguards into the palace,shaking his head at the number of expensive and gaudy artefacts that had beenplaced on display. The building wascolossal, yet according to Ekaterina’s father, it wasn't the administrativecentre of the empire. It was solelydevoted to the God-King, who could live out his immortal life without everseeing the outside world. The amount ofwealth invested in the building was staggering, enough to feed the entire city’spopulation for years. How could anyonelive like that?

Ekaterina’s father hesitated as they entered what had tobe the throne room. GBW had heard abouthow visitors were supposed to prostrate themselves in front of the God-King,but Ekaterina’s father was technically a rebel...he settled for bowing toAlexander, who looked more tired than magnificent. Beside him, Erica and Ekaterina lookedwonderful. GBW hugged Ekaterina beforehe quite realised what he was doing, or that she was hugging him back. Behind him, Kit elbowed him gently.

“It’s good to see you again,” Bruno said, to Erica. “We missed you.”

Alexander cleared his throat. “I will be travelling with you when you leavethis world,” he said. “In exchange, myempire will be passed on to my heir – and the new learning will be spreadthroughout the world.”

He nodded to Ekaterina’s father. “Lord Philip, my very distant relative, I anointyou as my successor,” he added, gravely. “The empire will be in your hands and those of your descendents. Take care of it.”

GBW stared at him. “It can't be that easy,” he said. “You can’t just put down the throne and come with us...”

“But I have been ruler for thousands of years,” Alexandersaid. “It is time I left this world toits own devices...”

“No,” a new voice said. “We won’t allow you to leave.”

A small army of priests had appeared from behind thethrone. “You are our Lord and God,” theleader said. He sounded as if he was onthe verge of insanity. “We will notallow you to leave this world. It isyours to rule as you see fit.”

His hands were shaking, even as he held a dagger carvedwith black symbols. “And this pretenderwill not rule in your place!”

The priest lunged forward, stabbing right at Lord Philip’schest.

 

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Alexander moved with terrifying speed, putting himselfbetween Lord Philip and the knife. Thepriest tried to stop, but it was too late. He thrust the knife into the God-King’s chest, knocking Alexander to thefloor. Lord Philip, Kit and GBW drew theirweapons as the priests closed in, ready to fight. Many of them looked shocked, othersangry. Erica cursed her lack of a weaponas she backed away. This world had yetto see the point of providing their women with weapons.



“Stop,” Alexander said. His voice sounded astonishingly strong for someone who had been stabbedthrough the heart. “You will stop, now.”



The priests halted in some confusion. Erica stared at Alexander’s wound. Flesh was knitting itself back together, thewound healing right in front of their eyes. It would have been fatal to a normal man, but Alexander had been blessed– or cursed – by a higher power. TheGod-King slowly pulled himself to his feet, pulling the knife out of his chestand dropping it on the golden floor. He didn'tseem angry, just...annoyed. But he’dbeen hurt worse in the past, Erica recalled. Nothing had ever managed to lay him low for long.



“My Lord and God,” one of the priests said, finally. “You cannotleave us.”



“I can and I must,” Alexander said. He looked the priest right in the eye. “You swore oaths of obedience to me when you enteredmy priesthood. Will you break your oathsnow?”



Erica could almost sympathise with the priest’sconfusion. Alexander was a god in hiseyes, a man who could do no wrong...and yet he was walking away from hisempire. And the priest had stabbed him,quite by accident, and watched in awe as the wound healed right in front ofhim. No wonder that even the Jews hadbeen absorbed into the mass of the empire’s religions, Erica realised, confrontedby evidence of a living god. Christianity and Islam had never existed in this world. Who knew what the barbarians worshipped asthey prepared to storm the borders of empire?



“My Lord,” the priest said. “I...”



Alexander placed one hand on his shoulder. “I understand,” he said, with more sympathythan Erica would have expected. “It isnever easy to serve as the tool of divine will. Do one final task for me and then you can depart, released from youroaths. Go forth into the streets andproclaim Lord Philip as my heir, the man who will reinvigorate my empire.”



“But he is no god,” the priest protested. Erica wondered how they worked out who wasgodly and who wasn't. If Lord Philip wasa distant descendent of Alexander, surely he had godly blood running throughhis veins. But Alexander was the onlyimmortal. None of his children had livedanything more than a normal mortal life. “He...rebelled against your rule.”



“And showed that he could reshape the empire,” Alexandersaid, firmly. “Go now and proclaim himas my heir.”



The priest took one final despairing look at Alexander,and then started to prostrate himself in front of the God-King. “Go,” Alexander ordered, and the priest pickedhimself up and ran towards the curtain, heading out of the palace. Alexander looked up at Ekaterina’s father andsmiled. “I trust that you will be worthyof my empire.”



Lord Philip swallowed. He’d launched a rebellion in hopes of recovering his daughter, only tofind himself ruler of an empire that spanned the entire known world. Erica wondered if he would be up to the task,knowing the limitations of technology in this world. It would take months before the outer edgesof the empire, in China or Siberia, knew about the change in government, andmany of their local governors might rebel. Alexander had been a god, but Lord Philip was an ordinary man. Erica could easily imagine the chaos thatmight spread through the empire as the news passed from province toprovince. And then there were thebarbarians at the gates...



“I will serve as I have always served,” Lord Philip said,finally. Alexander smiled at him again,a knowing smile from a man old enough to be able to read anyone like abook. “And I will save my people fromthe barbarians.”



“My children always disappointed me,” Alexanderadmitted. “Perhaps it wasn’t theirfault. None of them could live up towhat I’d done, even before I realised that my father had made me immortal. But you...you took an opportunity and seizedit with both hands, using it to save your city. You have a chance to save the entire empire. I think you’ll make it.”



He looked up at Bruno and Kit. “When can we leave?”



“But there is another issue,” Lord Philip said,quickly. “It was my intention to betrothmy daughter to GBW, one of the people who saved my city.”



Erica had to smile at GBW’s expression. He looked shocked, his face twisting between excitementand gloom. She could understand hisfeelings; Ekaterina was a lovely girl, yet he’d always ask himself if she’dmarried him because she loved him, or because her father had ordered her tomarry him. And they were from verydifferent cultures. There would beproblems when their expectations ran up against reality.



“We could always take her with us too,” Kit pointedout. “I think that we would have room inthe RV for one more person, if we threw out some of the junk.”



“And what junk,” Bruno demanded, “would that be?”



Alexander spoke before they could start arguing. “Your daughter may find it easier to bebetrothed to one of the other aristocratic gentlemen in the city,” he said,seriously. “Many of the Great Houseswill support our rule if you are married into one of them. Ekaterina’s husband must be chosen carefully.”



Lord Philip stared at him. “But the new learning...”



“Will spread without them,” Alexander assured him. He glanced up at GBW and smiled, dryly. Erica had no difficulty in realising that he’dacted to save GBW from being pushed into wedlock. “Besides, this young one has resolved to staybehind.”



He smiled at Cecil. “Isn't that right, young man?”



“Yes,” Cecil said, with a half-defiant, half-fearful lookat Kit. “I think my talents andknowledge can be put to work here.”



“Doing what?” Kitdemanded. “Slaughtering millions ofpeople because it would be really cool?”



“Then consider working with Lord Philip a form ofpenance,” Alexander said, briskly. Perhaps he didn't understand the sheer scale of Cecil’s crimes againstthe universe, all the worse because he honestly hadn’t realised what he wasdoing. “It will be many years of workbefore the empire is stable once again.”



“Because you didn't stand up to the barbarians,” LordPhilip said. There was the slightesthint of accusation in his voice. “Youcould have sent troops to help...”



“I was bored,” Alexander admitted. “Consider yourself lucky that you are notimmortal. I lost everyone I knew andloved over the years. Eventually, I juststopped caring about people, merely about how I could use them. And then I stopped even that. My empire ran on its own, without my input.”



“Until something new came along,” Erica said,quietly. “Even without us, thebarbarians would have ransacked most of your empire eventually, before youdecided to challenge them directly.”



“Perhaps,” Alexander said. “But I had grown so old that I no longercared.”



He looked back at Kit, and then at Erica. “I trust you have no objection to leaving theyoung man behind?”



Erica considered it for a long moment. Cecil wouldn't be able to cause as much havochere as he had on the Nazi world, if only because the technology was morelimited. Some of what he knew would beuseful to the locals, but other parts of his knowledge would be tantalisinglyincomplete. What good was knowing abouttanks if one didn't understand the technology to build them – or the steps thattook an agricultural economy into the industrial age? Part of her wanted to keep the idiot withthem, but really...she didn't want to jail him indefinitely. The only other option was killing him rightnow...



...Yet she didn't want to do that, even to him. How many had died, directly or indirectly, ather hands since they’d started jumping across alternate timelines? Maybe it was easy to understand Alexander’spoint; maybe it was easy to believe that the people who lived in alternatetimelines weren't quite real. Cecil...had been a fool, but he’d grown up alittle. And besides, she didn't want himin the RV any longer. Penance in aprimitive world was exactly what he deserved.



“If he chooses to stay, then he can stay,” Ericasaid.



Kit nodded, but GBW was less convinced. “He could rebuild the gas chambers here...”



“I doubt it,” Kit said, before Cecil could protest. “There will be limits to how much trouble hecould cause.” He looked over at LordPhilip. “I think you’d better keep aneye on him, carefully.”



“Of course,” Lord Philip said.



“Before we leave,” Bruno said, “we may as well startdistributing what we can of the new learning right here. Would that suit you, Great King?”



Alexander shrugged. “I should stay long enough to make sure that the priesthood doesn't tryanything else against the new Emperor,” he said. “Shall we leave tonight?”



Erica nodded. “Yes,”she agreed. “Tonight we depart.”

***​

The chaperones were back, GBW noted, as he knocked on thedoor to Ekaterina’s chambers. Alexander’sstaff had been astonished by the news that their God-King was leaving them –several had already committed suicide – but they’d managed to arrange rooms forEkaterina and the other guests. Ekaterina’sguards included a foursome of men who were deaf, dumb and castrated, theirtesticles removed before they were allowed to serve in Alexander’s harem. GBW had no idea how many would-be guardssurvived the experience of having their balls removed in this timeline, but he couldn'tsee how they summoned the will to carry on living without them. But some of the history snippets he’d studiedhad pointed out that eunuchs had sometimes played a vital – and powerful – rolein history. They swapped their chancesof building a family for wealth and power.



Ekaterina’s maid opened the door and beckoned himinside. The God-King rarely hosted anyonein his palace, according to the staff, but they’d been able to prepare luxuriousapartments for everyone. It was biggerthan an apartment back home, even if it did lack hot and cold running water, orair conditioning. GBW had grown used tothe heat since they’d arrived in the new timeline, but he would be relievedwhen they managed to reach somewhere colder. Ekaterina herself was sitting on a couch, looking lovely in a green andblue dress. The maid buzzed away to acorner of the room and sat down, out of earshot, but ready to intervene ifsomething went wrong. They didn't trusther with him any longer.



No one really trusted women in this world, GBW hadrealised long ago. Society had womenfirmly under control, forbidding unsupervised contact between males and femalesuntil they were safely married off. Thewhole system was devised to ensure that no one had to take a woman’s word for it that she was a virgin – indeed,if there was doubt as to her chastity, she could lose her chance at a goodmarriage. Some men would be happy tomarry a sullied woman, but others would be furious if they discovered thattheir wives had been playing around. Hypocrites, the lot of them, GBW considered. They had access to slave girls and whoresfrom a very early age, and cheating on one’s wife was considered a sign of virility.But they didn't give such latitude to women...



Ekaterina smiled at him, rather shyly. In hindsight, it was clear that she’d beenordered to court him, to attempt to convince GBW to marry her. It must have been difficult for her father tocope with the situation – GBW had no parents who could be contacted, orconvinced to push their son into wedlock – and it said something for his adaptabilitythat he’d managed to work out a possible solution. But now that was gone. Alexander had pointed out that Ekaterina’shusband would have to be carefully chosen, someone who would give other aristocratsa stake in the new regime.



GBW felt tongue-tied, almost wishing that he shared Kit’ssexual tastes. It would be easy to talkto a fellow man, or to organise a casual encounter between two homosexuals – orso he imagined. Men were simple, bluffcreatures; women were infinitively complex, their merest action often havingdeeper significance than men realised. Women were subtle and then professed themselves horrified when menfailed to pick up on the true meaning of their words and actions. Life would definitely be a lot simpler if womenwere like men, or vice versa.



“I am glad to see that you are well,” he said,finally. If the kidnapping had beenhorrific for Erica – she’d refused to talk about it – it must have been hellincarnate for someone who had been brought up in a safe environment, cossetedby her father. “We came after you atonce.”



“My father would not have left me in someone’s hands,” Ekaterinasaid, softly. Her face shadowed for along moment, a reminder that the person who had kidnapped her had been theGod-King himself. If Alexander hadwanted to fight, it could have been nasty. He might well have strode out onto the battlefield himself andslaughtered hundreds of men, his healing factor protecting him from theirweapons. “And I am glad that he hassurvived the war.”



GBW nodded, too quickly. Once again, he found himself unable to speak, unable to formulate hiswords. What could he say to her? He’d been attracted to her, true, and yet he’dnever been quite certain of how she felt about him. And in this world, would it have mattered ifshe’d fallen head over heels in love with him? Women married who they were told to marry; their feelings weren't important,not when power and position were at stake. Why would any father in this world accept his daughter marrying for lovewhen by picking the right husband he could elevate his family to the highestlevels of power?



“I...I like you,” he said, finally. God, this was embarrassing. He hoped that the maid was deaf too. “I...”



Ekaterina’s face was impassive, showing no hint of hertrue feelings. GBW felt his face colour;he almost stood up and walked out of the room, to cover in the RV until it wastime to go. It had to be the hardestconversation of his life, if not the most embarrassing. He didn’t know what to say, or do.



“If you want to come with us, you can,” he said,finally. The others wouldn't approve,but he wasn't going to leave Ekaterina at the mercy of her father’s choice ofhusband if it could be avoided. “We don’tknow where we are going, but it will be somewhere different...”



“No,” Ekaterina said. She seemed almost as tongue-tied as GBW. “I have to stay here, with my father. He’s going to rule the empire and he will need me.”



As what? GBW thought. He wanted to demand an answer, to ask if she would ever be anything morethan a brood mare for her father’s dynastic plans. But the words didn't come to his mouth. Ekaterina was smart, and very well educatedcompared to most women in this world. Maybe her father had treated her almost as a son, asking her advice andtraining her as his heir. She couldn't inherithis position, but she’d certainly be able to influence her husband. And yet...



He pushed the thought aside. She’d made her choice.



“I understand,” he said, finally. “I hope you have a long and happy life, andthat you have plenty of wonderful children.”



He stood up and walked out of the room, refusing to lookback. It was for the best, he toldhimself, but he refused to believe it. Who knew what would become of her in the world they’d turned upsidedown? There was no way to know. Maybe they could get back one day and findout, or maybe they’d never figure out how to navigate. Or maybe...



Erica met him when he returned to their chambers. “Are you all right?”



“I’m not sure,” GBW admitted. “She didn't want to come with us.”



“She would never have fitted in to our world,” Ericasaid, seriously. “And besides, given ourluck at shifting from world to world, would you really want to drop her intothe frying pan – or the fire?”



“That’s not the point,” GBW protested. “We’re leaving her here, in a world where she’snothing more than a slave...”



“What would you have us do about it?” Erica asked. “Kidnap her, take her away from her father and the world she knows?” She shook her head. “Besides, she’s a bright girl – even if shedid like the idea of marrying you. Ithink she’ll wind up twisting her husband around her little finger and becomingthe power behind the throne. Don’t beatyourself up over it. There are plenty ofother girls out there.”



GBW flushed. Wasthat a hint that she was interestedin him, or was he just reading what he wanted to read into theconversation? “Thank you,” he said. “Maybe when we get back home, I can asksomeone out and try for a normal relationship.”



“Or maybe we won’t get home at all,” Erica said. “Wouldn't you be happier that way? Instead of going to classes and being boredby slimy lecturers, jumping from world to world and exploring the multiverse?”



“Sure,” GBW said, sardonically. “And how many times have we nearly beenkilled since we started on our mad journey?”

 

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“How does this thing actually work?”

Erica smiled at Alexander’s question. The God-King had been badgering them withquestions, ever since he’d seen the RV for himself. Bruno and Kit had tried to answer him, buteven they had had to admit that there were things they didn't understand abouttheir technology. Alexander found itsurprising, asking them how they intended to repair the RV if something wentwrong. But then, the most advanced technologyin his world was in a blacksmith’s shop – and a smith would be able to repairalmost anything by himself. It wasn't untilthe computer age that large segments of the population had become dependent on technologythey didn’t understand.

“It doesn't matter right now,” she said. GBW had checked the device carefully,although he’d admitted to her that he still didn't understand how it worked, orhow it selected their destination. “Allthat matters is finding a new place to go.”

“Very well,” Bruno said. “Everyone ready? Let’s go!”

Erica caught one last glimpse of Ekaterina, wavinggoodbye, and then the world went dark around them. The RV lurched violently, as if it wasspinning through the space between alternate timelines, and then lurched asecond time. Alexander swore in alanguage long dead as the vehicle crashed to a halt. Outside, Erica could see a brick wall and adarkening sky. It had to be evening.

A bleep from one of the RV’s laptops caught herattention. Bruno picked it up and tappedat it for a long moment. “We havewireless,” he announced, grandly. They hadn'tpicked up any wireless internet signals since the day they’d left theirhomeworld. “And we have internet!”

“So where are we?” Kit asked. “Do you think we’reback home?”

“Try and get a local history program,” Erica said. “Maybe we’re somewhere close enough to homethat we can just walk into our own lives.”

“I want to get out of this vehicle,” Alexander said,firmly. He sounded...strange, as if hewas on the verge of collapse. The RV wassomething completely outside his experience, a terrible shock for a man who’dthought he’d understood everything. “Openthe door and let me out.”

The stench of burning hydrocarbons struck Erica as theyopened the door. They’d materialised inan alleyway barely large enough to take the RV, littered with bins and refusebags. She spotted what looked like a Hersheychocolate bar wrapping on the ground and wondered if they were home afterall. Outside the alleyway, cars wereslowly making their way along the road, drivers honking their horns in anattempt to get the line moving faster. It had to be rush hour...Alexander was staring, as if he didn't quitebelieve what he was seeing. The vehicleshad to be something out of a bad dream for him...Erica caught sight of apoliceman wearing an NYPD uniform and wondered what he’d make of Alexander’scostume. He’d donned a flamboyant outfitthat made him look strange, to modern eyes.

“I know where we are,” Bruno called. “It was obvious, once we got online...”

“New York,” Erica said, quickly, and laughed at hisexpression. “But which New York are wein?”

“I think we’re not exactly home and dry,” Kit said. He held up one of the other laptops. “Take a look at this.”

Erica read the article. “President Blair today announced that negotiations for integrating Cubaand Peru into the United States have failed when local rulers insisted ongrandfathering in protections for their families from charges of corruption broughtby their local opponents,” she said. “TheUnited States does not exist to allow criminals to escape crimes perpetratedagainst their own people, Blair said, when asked if the decision wasn't motivatedby fear of expanding the Hispanic bloc in Congress. Governor Fernandez of the State of Sonoradisagreed with Blair’s statement, calling it a slap in the face for Cubans whohave worked for membership in the United States.”

She looked up. “Blair? Wasn’t he the British Prime Minister?”

“In our world,” Kit said. He tapped a key. “They’ve gotWikipedia, at least. The United Statestook a leading world role against Communism in 1921 after Germany and France fellunder Communist rule. Britain, Canada, Australiaand New Zealand joined the United States in the 1950s; Mexico followed soonafterwards, once a Communist regime was destroyed by its own people. Now there’s an expanded USA facing aCommunist state that stretches from Portugal to China.”

“No Hitler,” Erica said, quietly.

“Many other changes,” Kit said. “The Nazis never even got off the ground inthis timeline. Chances are that theywere wiped out by the Communists – Hitler may never even have become theirleader in this world.” He tapped anotherkey. “No Stalin either – Trotsky was theleader of the USSR after Lenin shuffled off this mortal coil. World revolution instead of socialism in onecountry; massive expansion, conquest of Europe...no wonder the US tried tocounter it.”

“But the Communist regimes fell, in our timeline,” GBWprotested. “Why would they remain activehere and now?”

“I don’t know,” Kit admitted. “Maybe they were smarter under Trotsky than Stalin,or maybe the absence of the Second World War allowed them to build a workingeconomic model that actually allowed them to feed their population. But they’re probably in trouble now, unlessthey try to liberalise.”

He shook his head. “It isn't our concern,” he said, firmly. “This isn't our world.”

“But we may exist in it,” Bruno pointed out. “We could go meet our counterparts, or slipinto their lives...”

“No,” GBWsnapped. “This isn't our world. It isn't even close to our world. Do youreally want to wind up in deep **** again, just because we looked around forlonger than we should have done? I saywe hit the device again and get out of here.”

“We’re going to have to wait a few hours until itrecharges,” Bruno said. He looked up andgrinned. “Even if you don’t want to lookaround, we can keep surfing the internet...”

Erica looked round. Alexander was gone.

“Shit,” she said. “Wherethe hell did he go?”

“I don't know,” Kit said. “He was here a moment ago.”

“I’ll go after him,” Erica decided. “The rest of you, stay here!”

She walked out into the street and looked around. There was no sign of the policeman she hadseen, or Alexander. He should have stuckout for miles, but instead...he’d vanished. She picked a direction at random and walked down the street, prayingthat she was going the right way. Someone must have been listening, for she saw Alexander standing infront of a shop window, staring through the glass. The former God-King seemed completely awed bythe sight. Erica walked up to him andrealised that it wasn't a shop, but a military recruiting station. The United States Marine Corps didn't seem tobe very different in this timeline, even though it wouldn't have invadedcountless islands on the road to Japan.

“That man is a soldier,” Alexander said, nodding towardsthe recruiting officer inside. The manlooked back at them, perhaps wondering who they were or if they wanted to jointhe Marines. “And those are the weaponsof this brave new world.”

He looked at a photograph of a Marine platoon, posing infront of a small tank. The caption belowthe photograph stated that it had been taken in Iceland, during the interventionthat had saved the government from a communist coup. “I could join these people,” he added. “What better introduction could I ask to anew world?”

Erica stared at him. “But you don’t speak the language,” she pointed out, “and you don’t haveany papers...”

Alexander grinned at her. “I can learn,” he said. “And if Itold them where I came from...”

“They’d lock you up in a loony bin,” Erica snapped. “Do you know how many people claim that they’reNapoleon, or...or you? They’ll think that you are an escaped mentalpatient and send you to somewhere even you won’t be able to escape!”

“I can get those,” Alexander said. “And besides, Alexander is my name.”

“Yes, but these people think of Alexander of Macedon assomeone who died over two thousand years ago,” Erica objected. “If you claim to be...you, they’re not going to believe you.”

She sighed. “Thisworld might not be welcoming to someone who doesn't have identity papers,” sheadded. “Come back to the RV and we’llsee what we can do.”

Alexander hesitated, but allowed her to lead him backtowards the RV. The streets didn't seemto have cleared any, suggesting that this version of New York was even morecongested than the city in her own world. Alexander kept waving his hand under his nose, cursing the stench ofgas-swilling vehicles. It was only aslight improvement over the stench of cities back on his homeworld. Judging from the amount of litter left in thestreets, perhaps this world had forgotten sanitation rules that Alexander’sworld had never mastered.

“It isn't that bad an idea,” Kit said, when they reachedthe RV and explained. “According totheir website, the Marines take in recruits from all over the world and hammerMarine discipline into their heads. Fiveyears of service qualifies someone for citizenship in the United States, alittle like the Foreign Legion back home. It seems that a recruit can just walk in and end up being processedwithin the day.”

“Surely they’ll want papers and proof of identity,” Ericasaid. “I can't see them just takinganyone who walks in off the streets...hell, he can't even speak any language in this world.”

“Apparently they do,” Kit said. He looked up at Alexander. “I think we can hack you some paperwork,something that will give you permission to visit New York from Greece and applyto join the Marine Corps. But ifsomething goes wrong...”

“And God knows what will happen if he undergoes a throughmedical scan,” Bruno injected. “Someonewho healed within seconds would be noticeable, surely?”

“If that still holds true in this world,” Kit added. He shook his head. “Give us a couple of hours and let us seewhat we can do.”

The time passed slowly. Erica taught Alexander how to use one of the laptops, allowing him to lookat pictures of Marines and modern military equipment. This world had working SSTO spacecraft andseveral other advancements over Erica’s homeworld, although their computer systemswere primitive and their security lamentably non-existent. Erica found an English-language trainingprogram and put Alexander to work on it. Unsurprisingly, he picked up a few words very quickly. He’d had over two thousand years ofexperience, even if he had been growing bored. The thought of a new challenge had energised him.

“Well,” Kit said, finally, “there was a boat of prospectiveimmigrants from Europe a few days ago. I’veslipped you onto the passenger manifest as Alexander Macedon, a young would-beenlistee from Greece. You’re from one ofthe more backward regions of the country, which should explain your funnyaccent and general lack of awareness of how the world operates. I dare say you’ll pick it up very quicklyfrom what the Drill Sergeants will try to hammer into your head.”

He hesitated. “Maybeone of us should go along as a translator,” he added. “They must be used to people dropping in whocan’t speak English, but...”

“I should be fine,” Alexander said. He smiled, showing the charisma of thelegendary king Erica had read about on Wikipedia. “If they knew that I had more experience thanall of them put together...”

“But you don't,” Kit said. “Some of what you know from your ownexperiences will come across, but you have no experience of using guns, ortanks, or aircraft. You have to rememberthat what you took for granted in your world isn’t the case here.”

“I will learn,” Alexander assured them. “But just to be safe, I will wait until youhave departed before going back to the office.”

Erica looked at him. “This is a strange world,” she said. “Are you sure you want to remain here?”

“It's something new and different,” Alexander said. He smiled at her again, turning on thecharm. “How could I refuse?”

They left him studying the English language program andreturned to working their way through the world’s internet. It was clear that the USSR didn't havecomputers anything like as capable as the American designs, which might havebeen why there was so little computer security. Japan didn't seem to be a major economic player in this timeline;instead, the Japanese Empire had absorbed Indonesia and Indochina. The Communists appeared to have pushed themout of Korea in the 1930s, crippling the militaristic Japanese government thatwould have bombed Pearl Harbour and started the Pacific front of World WarTwo. No wonder the Marines took everyonethey could get. Chinese manpower alliedto Russian tanks and weapons designs gave the Communists a majoradvantage.

Iran seemed to have fallen in the late 1940s, before theUS developed the atomic bomb; Iraq, once a British colony, seemed to be hangingon with American support, while Turkey was neutral. Saudi Arabia seemed to be a patchwork ofsmaller states in this timeline; India seemed to have collapsed into chaos whenthe British pulled out in 1950. The successorstates were too weak to stand up to the Communists, sparking off caste andracial wars that had consumed millions of lives.

“If we have counterparts here...”

“We probably do,” GBW said, “but this isn't ourworld. We don’t want to upset anotherapple cart.”

Erica looked over at Alexander. In their world, he’d built a vast empirewhich had collapsed after his death, creating much of the ancient world. But in his world, his immortality had allowedhim to stabilise and expand his empire to the point where it consumed almostall of the known world. What would he dohere? Might he lead the war against theUSSR, or would he seek to reassert himself as the God-King? Maybe they shouldn't leave him...but thisworld was different from the one he’d left behind. He couldn't cause much trouble, could he?

“Maybe he’s what this world needs,” Kit commented, whenErica raised the issue with him. “I don’tknow for sure – the data isn't perfect – but there will be war soon enough,between the two power blocs. TheCommunists are in deep **** – their leadership will have to choose betweenabandoning most of their empire or fighting a war. In our world, they chose to abandon theirempire, but here the balance of power is a great deal more even. They might decide to go to war.”

Bruno looked up from where he’d been studying thedevice. “Well, it looks as though we’reready to go again,” he said. “I think wehave enough power to make the jump.”

He looked over at Alexander, who smiled at him. “Last chance to come with us...”

“I’ve made up my mind,” Alexander said, with all thestubbornness that two thousand years of life had granted him. “I’m going to stay here.”

Erica gave him a hug. “Just...watch yourself,” she said, firmly. “And don’t let them realise that you’reimmortal, not if you can help it. Theymight try to dissect you instead of letting you train to be a Marine.”

“Curious,” Bruno said. “If the definition of an immortal is one who lives forever, how cansomeone claim to be immortal until they have lived forever? A dead immortal is not an immortal bydefinition.”

“Save the philosophical puzzles for another time,” Ericasaid, as she let go of Alexander. “Ihope it all works out well for you.”

Kit waved goodbye and then ducked back into the RV. “I think we don’t want to stay here anylonger,” his voice came drifting back. “Sooneror later, someone’s going to want to know what we’re doing in this alley.”

“Probably,” Bruno agreed. “They seem to be more scared of reds under the bed than our owntimeline, with good reason. Everyone whomight have been interested in communism at college is a potential suspect. I don’t think we’d find this world verycomfortable if we had to remain here for very long.”

“It’s different,” Alexander said, firmly. There was absolutely no give in his voice atall. “I will be fine. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Kit said. “And thank you for not being an asshole when we invaded your city.”

Alexander made a rude gesture. “I was bored,” he said. “You were the most excitement I’d had incenturies.”

Erica waved at Alexander one final time and then climbedinto the RV, pulling the door shut behind her. Bruno was already holding one hand over the device, ready to jump themout of the new timeline. Erica rolledher eyes and then nodded. Bruno touchedthe device and the RV lurched again, and again, and again. A warning note – the first sound anyone hadheard from the device – echoed through the RV. Erica had no time to react – even if there was anything she could havedone – when there was a final lurch and she found herself staring intonothingness.

“What...?”

The RV started to move, tipping over. Erica turned and stared out of the otherwindow, just in time to see a grassy knoll fading away. They were tipping...

“Stop it,” GBW yelled. “Hit the button!”

“I did,” Bruno yelled back. He sounded as if he was on the verge of panicas the RV kept tilting. Kit tried tograb hold of the side as gravity turned upside down. Erica heard a crash as a laptop fell off themakeshift shelves, followed by a string of computer tools. The entire RV was coming apart. “It isn't working! There isn't enough power...”

The RV fell over the edge of the cliff and plummeted down.

 

Chapter Twenty-Six<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



Erica couldn't help herself. She screamed as the RV fell towards theground, spinning in the air and throwing her across the compartment. Pieces of computer junk crashed against herand the others, her scream drowned out by the noise. Outside, she saw what looked like a giant chessboardbelow them, before the RV spun again, and again. They were crashing to their doom.



And then it just stopped. The RV hung in space, floating. Erica stared at Bruno, who looked back at her, and then scrambled overto peer out of the window. A mirrored surfaceseemed to peer back at them, although she couldn't see her own reflection. Down below them, there was nothing. Her head spun, unable to quite process whatwas going on. They seemed to be floatingin the air...



“We can't be in freefall,” Bruno said. He sounded as dazed as Erica felt. “There wouldn't be any gravity.”



“Maybe we’re dead and in hell,” Kit said. “Didn't someone say that hell is otherpeople?”



“That was you, just then,” Bruno said, prompting Kit tomake a rude gesture with his finger. “Maybethis is just another timeline, a little crazier than most.”



Erica looked at him, and then back out of thewindow. The mirrored surface seemed tobe pressing in on the RV. Carefully, shereached for the door and opened it, looking out into the strange newworld. An unearthly stillness hung inthe air, a silence that reminded her of the junkyard world. She stepped out, hanging onto the RV with onehand in case there was nothing to stand on, but her foot touched solidground. They appeared to have landedamidst a world of mirrors.



“Remarkable,” Bruno said, as he followed her out of theRV. “I wonder what we’re standing on.”



He bent down and tapped the ground below their feet. “Feels funny,” he added, as his fingersskittered over the surface. “It may besome kind of force field rather than solid matter as we understand the term.”



Erica looked over at him. “Is that even possible?”



“Doctor What had a force field,” GBW said, as he emergedfrom the RV. “It stands to reason thatthere will be timelines more advanced than our own, just as Alexander’s worldwas two thousand years behind us. Maybethe Roman Empire never fell and the industrial revolution happened severalcenturies earlier.”



“But the Romans didn't have steam power,” Bruno pointedout. “Their empire didn't exactly encourageinnovation.”



“Maybe the Japanese became the British, instead ofsealing themselves off from the outside world,” GBW snapped, irritated. “Or maybe China managed to develop anindustrial revolution, or maybe Australia developed its own civilisation...”



“There’s no way to know,” Erica said, before the argumentcould get any worse. “If we’re in aforce field, it probably saved our lives.”



“Yeah,” Kit agreed. “We literally fell off a cliff.”



“Guys,” Bruno said, slowly, “if we fell off acliff...where is it?”



Erica looked upwards. She saw nothing, apart from the mirrored surface. It was impossible to tell if she was staringinto the distance, or if the world ended bare meters from where she wasstanding. Perhaps the mirrored surfacewas the force field, or perhaps they were trapped in a world where the laws ofscience were totally different. What ifthere was genuine magic in this world?



“I don’t think we should stay here,” GBW said,uneasily. “This place gives me thecreeps.”



Now that he mentioned it, Erica felt the same way. There was something...unpleasant in thesilence, as if someone or something was just waiting for the right moment tointroduce itself, or to do something really nasty. The sense of anticipation was growingstronger with every second, even as Bruno started to walk away from theRV. Erica opened her mouth to call forhim to come back, before the world seemed to shimmer around them...



...And she found herself staring at herself. But it wasn't her. This other Erica seemed older and nastierthan her, wearing black leather and carrying a whip in one hand. Their eyes met and knowledge seemed to slaminto her head. The other Erica came froma world where women had become the dominant sex, enslaving men and using themfor their own gratification. Sex waspower and they wielded it unmercifully. The vision shifted...



...And another Erica stood in front of her. This one wore a uniform she didn't recognise,carrying a pilot’s helmet in one hand and a gun in the other. Their eyes met and, once again, Erica saw hercounterpart’s life. The world was atwar; it had been at war for the last hundred years. Erica, like all of the other children borninto the alternate world, had been conscripted into the military as soon as she’dbeen old enough to learn; assigned to the air force, she’d carved out a careerfor herself flying combat missions against the enemy...



...A third Erica appeared, wearing a long white weddingdress and a smile that made the original Erica’s teeth clench. This Ericahad devoted herself to winning a rich husband, a sugar daddy who would keep herin fancy clothes and make her a social queen. Her life was wasted, Erica thought, but her counterpart disagreed. By her own standards, she was a winner. Her merest whim brought an army of servants andsycophants scrambling to do her bidding...



...And a fourth, and a fifth...an endless chain of peoplewearing her face, sometimes recognisable, sometimes so different that she couldhardly believe that they were the same person. There were counterparts that had succeeded, in their world, carving outhappy lives for themselves, and counterparts that had failed, driven to despairby their failures and the weight of their lives pressing down on them. Each image remained still just long enoughfor her to absorb its story, and then it was gone.



Erica felt tears on her cheek, unsure of why she wascrying. None of them were her, were they? But they were, just as Doctor What had been acounterpart of Bruno; each of them was her, in a different world. The pilot, the courtesan, the whore, themurderess, the queen...they were all who she could have been, if the world hadbeen different. She caught a sight ofherself, kneeling in front of her mistress, and shivered. There, but for the grace of God went the originalErica.



She stumbled backwards and crashed into GBW. He looked just as badly shaken as Erica, herface pale and wan. Erica caught aglimpse of an alternate GBW looking back at her, his face twisted with anunholy lust, and then she saw herself below his foot. A naked Erica lay on the ground, ready to receiveher master...



“No,” GBW shouted, screaming at the alternate version ofhimself. “I am not that man!”



Erica caught his arm as he flailed uselessly at theimage. “No, you’re not,” she said,sharply. She was shaken too, but she hadthe feeling that fighting would be useless. “And I am not that girl. Take abreath and calm down.”



Another image of them shimmered into existence. This time, they were married, sharing anapartment together. They looked happy,very much in love. Erica felt an oddflash of envy for her counterpart, wondering if such happiness would ever comeher way. There had never been anyonelooking at her so tenderly, someone who would die for her...



She looked over at Bruno and Kit. Both of them seemed just as shocked as Erica,although Kit seemed to be taking everything in his stride. There was no way to know if the images werereal counterparts, or if they were just the product of someone’s sick imagination,but she had to admit that they seemed real. In an infinity of possible worlds, there had to be room for them, didn'tthere?



GBW pulled her back towards the other two. Erica saw the reflections grow and multiplyas they came together, seeing a picture of them all wearing black uniforms thatreminded her of the SS men they’d escaped on the Nazi world. Another saw them wearing spacesuits; a thirdhad them standing in the middle of a nudist colony. Erica flushed and looked away from hercounterpart, who had clearly let herself go. Most of the people in the colony were the kind of people who shouldn't beallowed to walk around naked.



“We need to get out of here,” GBW said. “Whatever this place is...”



“But you can’t leave just yet,” a voice said. It seemed to come from everywhere andnowhere, booming through the air. “Youhave trespassed in my domain.”



Erica looked around, seeing nothing. “Who are you?” She asked, finally. “And what is this place?”



“I am the Great God Eeean,” the voice said. “This is my domain. I rule here. Everyone who enters my world becomes mine.”



“I'm afraid we don’t have a starship,” Bruno said,quickly.



“I don’t need a starship,” the voice said. It sounded mildly amused. “Nor do I need your RV.”



“That’s a pity,” Bruno muttered. “I could have asked what God needed with anRV.”



The voice grew louder. “I rule here,” it insisted. “Youwill show me proper respect.”



“Or what?” Kitasked. “So far, all I’ve seen are amultitude of different possibilities and little else. We’ve seen plenty of alternate worlds in ourtravels. Did you think that that wouldimpress us?”



“Little puny mortal,” the voice boomed. “Do you think I need to impress you?”



“Well, if you’re a god, you’ll want worship,” Ericasaid. “Don't you think that you shouldimpress us before we start worshipping you?”



“And if you’re really a god,” Bruno added, “what do youwant with our worship anyway?”



“And if you’re really omnipotent,” GBW said, getting intothe spirit of things, “can you make a rock so heavy that even you can't liftit?”



“I am all-powerful,” the voice snapped. There was a new note of petulance in itstone. “I can do anything. Let me show you...”



Erica felt her head spin...and then she crashed down intothe life of one of her alternates. She’dbeen born as a slave, into the household of one of the ruling families of theworld. Her mother had been a kitchen wench,her father one of the noble-born children intent on topping as many women as hecould before he grew out of it. She washis daughter, but she was still a slave, performing her duties in the kitchen. And as he took a wife from his own class,Erica’s life grew worse. His legitimate sonsand daughters abused her terribly, whipping her at the slightestprovocation. She ran away into theplantation, only to be betrayed by the slaves in the fields and returned to thehouse. And then they put her upon thewheel and she felt her bones breaking...



The world twisted around her again. She'd lived an entire life in the space of afew seconds, a life that was incredibly restricted and short, a life where she’dbeen nothing more than human chattel. That Erica had lived a hopeless life, unable even to dream of someonemaking it better for her, or pulling herself out of slavery. Even if she hadn't tried to escape, it wouldn’thave been long before she was sold to another master or found herself dumpedinto the fields. Her half-siblings wouldn'thave wanted her around them, a reminder of how much worse their own lives couldhave been. It wasn't fair...



“Of course it wasn’t fair,” Eeean said. His voice seemed to twist into her very soul,sending daggers through her heart. “Butthe multiverse isn't fair. Why should itbe fair?”



Erica felt her own body twisting apart, transfiguringinto something else. She was a bird,flying through the air; a cow, chewing grass as she walked to be milked; atoad, hopping along the ground...each life brought new knowledge, newawareness, and yet they were all so limited. She’d never realised how lucky she'd been, even after seeing worlds thathad been devastated and others that were primitive, or locked in the grip of tyranny. Her life would have been a wonderful dream tosome of the other versions of herself. The serf-girl would have given her soul to experience only a fraction ofthe freedoms Erica was permitted in her own world.



“Stop this,” she managed to say. She wasn't even sure if she was speakingaloud, or only thinking. Eeean seemed tohear her, whatever she was doing. “Why areyou doing this?”



“Because I can,” the voice seemed to whisper. There was a flash of light and she foundherself back with the others, wearing her human form. She touched her chest, remembering thefeeling of her ribs breaking in the other life, and shivered. Whatever Eeean was – and she found itimpossible to believe that he was a god – he was clearly incrediblypowerful. “Because you have entered myworld and that makes you mine, mine to do with as I please.”



There was a long chilling pause. “I can penetrate your very being at any pointand manipulate it,” Eeean added. “Alittle twist here, a little twist there – you’d be a whole differentperson. Or you wouldn't even be human atall. Do you know how far removed you arefrom a monkey? A little snip of theright genetic link and you’d be scratching your ass while climbing up a tree.”



“Very clever,” GBW said. She wondered, absently, what nightmares he and the others had beenshown, before deciding that she didn't want to know. “You’re more powerful than us, so you havethe right to do whatever you like to us, right?”



“Of course,” Eeean said. “Might makes right.”



“That is a very disturbing belief for a self-proclaimedgod,” Kit said. He looked just as shakenas the others, but his voice was steady. “This is pointless.”



“Pointless?” Eeeanasked. “How can this be pointless?”



“You’re a man playing computer games with all the cheatcodes,” Bruno said. “You are invincible,smashing through enemy armies purely for the hell of it. And yet...what have you won? Nothing – you just cheated. You didn't settle who actually won – you smashedthe board and declared it a victory.”



Erica gathered herself. “You’re a child, pulling the wings off flies,” she added. “You’re tormenting us for the sheer fun oftormenting us.”



“And should I be different?” Eeean demanded. “I have power. Power exists to be used.”



“But it’s hardly fair,” GBW said.



“There you go again with that fairness concept,” Eeeansaid. “Fairness is a human concept. I am not human.”



“You are very human,” Erica said. “Given power, you have allowed it to corrupt you. A real godwould hardly allow power to get the better of him...”



She felt her body harden and managed to gasp, before sheturned to stone. Her awareness seemed tospin, leaving her somehow aware of her surroundings even through her eyes wereno longer made of flesh and blood. Shefelt the first flicker of real panic as she struggled to move, realising thatshe might have been condemned to remain in stone forever. How long could she endure being a statuebefore she went mad? Would she even be allowedthe refuge of madness?



“So you can play at being Snake Face,” Kit said. He’d loved those cartoons, Erica remembered,desperately trying to think straight. Kit had made her watch some of them while he’d been taking a break fromfiddling with computer junk. “I am notimpressed.”



“I could really impress you,” Eeean said, coldly. The voice seemed to grow louder. “I could condemn you to any one of a dozendifferent hells...”



“Only one?” Kitasked. “That’s hardly the act of anall-powerful god.”



“You could spend the rest of eternity moving from hell tohell,” the voice said. “Do you doubtthat I could do anything to you?”



“I don’t doubt it at all,” Bruno said, before Kit couldsay anything. Erica was suddenly awarethat he was touching her stone forehead. His fingers felt odd against the stone, almost as if some of his warmthwas seeping into her. “But it is stillpointless. You’re still playing gameswith limitless power.”



There was a long pause. “Let us challenge you instead,” Bruno added. “If we beat you in a fair game, you have tolet us go back to our own timeline.”



“Oh,” Eeean said. Therewas a hint of an unearthly chuckle. “Andgiven that I already have you within my realm, why should the great andpowerful Eeean accept your challenge?”



“Because if you don't,” Kit said, “you’ll never know ifyou could have beaten us in a fair game. It will nag away at your mind long after we’re dead and gone, leavingyou wondering what would have happened if you had accepted our challenge...”



“An interesting challenge,” Eeean agreed. “But I am all-powerful. I would not be a fair contestant for you.”



“Interesting,” Bruno said. “You understand the meaning of the term fairness?”



“I will select your opponents myself,” Eeean said. “All you have to do is capture the flag. But I warn you...if you lose this game, youwill be my playing pieces for eternity.”



“Wonderful,” GBW muttered. “The one concept from Doctor Who thatactually exists is the Celestial Toymaker.”



“No rules, no other limits,” the voice boomed. “Fail and you will be mine. Win and you can go free.”



Erica felt her stone become flesh again. She tottered forward, suddenly uncertain ofher footing. The mirrored surface belowher feet seemed unstable.



“And so begins the game,” Eeean said. “Let us see who laughs last.”



There was a brilliant flash of light and the world wentaway.

 

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><font size="3">ChapterTwenty-Seven<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com
They were standing in the middle of a forest, lookingaround them. It looked perfectly normal,even though there was something eerie about it. Perhaps it was the shadows, Erica told herself, or maybe it was thesilence. No birds sang in the distance,or animals moving through the ground. The forest wasn't quite real.

“He said we had to capture the flag,” she said. Her joints still felt stiff after being astatue. It wasn't an experience shewanted to repeat. “Where is the flag?”

“Over there, I think,” Kit said. He pointed a finger towards the mountains inthe distance, revealing yet another oddity about the world. There was no visible source of light, yet itseemed to be broad daylight. They couldsee perfectly. “It’s on top of themountain.”

“Miles away,” Bruno groused. “Didn't I have a note from the doctor sayingI was excused exercise on the grounds that it killed perfectly good braincells?”

“You can spare them,” Erica said. Eeean had mentioned opponents. Somehow, she didn't think that the game wouldbe as simple as walking up to the flag and taking hold of it. “I think we’d better get moving.”

“I can't sparethem,” Bruno protested. “Do you knowthere’s a clear pattern – the more time one spends playing football, thestupider one gets. Duke is an excellentexample. He’s nothing more than a dumbjock.”

“And yet the girls like the jocks,” GBW grumbled, as theystarted to walk. “Maybe too much contactwith sweaty men kills female braincells.”

Erica opened her mouth to reply, and then thought betterof it. “Shut up and walk,” she said,briskly. “We have a long way to gobefore we reach the flag.”

Under the trees, the shadows seemed odd, almostalive. Erica found herself glancingaround, expecting an attack at any moment. The shadows didn't seem to behave normally at all, almost as if theywere crawling after the walkers. Brunostarted to hum to himself and she hissed at him to shut up, regretting it assoon as the silence closed in around them again. There was nothing moving in the forest, apartfrom them. No wind blew through thetrees.

“We could get lost in this,” GBW said. He stopped and looked at one of thetrees. “And these trees are clearlyunreal.”

Erica followed his gaze. The patterns on the wood were regular, too regular. Her father had taken her hunting hundreds oftime, spending hours away from civilisation. The forests back home had always been noisy, untouched by human hands. Here, there was an unearthly regularityaround everything. The trees were evenplanted in straight lines, as if Eeean – whatever he was – couldn’t be botheredmaking it random. It reminded her ofsome of the computer gaming maps the guys had produced for their friends, mapswhere they’d represented landscape in unnatural patterns. Maybe the creator of this world hadn't beenable to make it truly random.

“Keep moving,” Erica said, wishing they could still seethe mountain. It would be easy to getlost under the branches, leaving them wandering through the forest until hungeror thirst finished them off. They hadn'tbeen given any survival gear and she was pretty sure that there wouldn't beanything to eat in the world Eeean had created. “We really need to get out of here before the sun goes down.”

Her watch had stopped working, leaving them with no easyway to tell the time. There was still nosign of the sun in the sky, adding to the sense of unreality pervading the entireworld and overshadowing their path. Theshadows seemed to close in on them, as if they were hunting the humanintruders, before sliding back whenever she looked at them too closely. She almost wanted to hold one of their hands,seeking what reassurance she could in simple human contact. The sense of being hemmed in was growingstronger by the minute. Someone outthere was watching them...

They came to the end of the forest and stared out over alarge field. It was just as unreal asthe forest, an endless plain of grass that seemed to stretch out to the foot ofthe mountains. There was a lake at oneedge of the field, but one look revealed that it was just as regular as therest of their surroundings. She peeredinto the water, hoping to see fish, and then used her fingers to scoop up somewater to drink. It wasn't safe to dothat in the real world, but she had a sense that it would be safe to do ithere. The water tasted of nothing, as ifit had been boiled and then extensively purified. Or maybe it was just pure water.

“Take a drink,” she said, as she looked around in hopesof seeing something they could use to carry water with them. There was nothing. “I think that...”

Something crashed into her back, sending her fallingface-first into the water. The colddrenched her clothes, making it a struggle to swim; she nearly kicked off hershoes before realising that she would need them when they started walkingtowards the mountain. She pulled herselfto the surface and looked back towards the guys. A person stood by the waterside, looking downat Erica. The newcomer wore her face.

“You’re weak,” the other Erica said. “You didn't even sense me behind you.”

Erica gathered herself, treading water. The other Erica looked like a stuntwoman outof one of the movies Bruno watched, the ones featuring Asian Ninja Vampireswith chest sizes that could only be described with imaginary numbers. She wore black leather and carried a pair ofswords strapped to her back, the outfit so tight that Erica could seeeverything she had displayed openly. Itdidn’t seem to impede her movements. Erica’s counterpart moved with a grace that Erica found herself envying,even though each movement seemed to call attention to her breasts. Maybe it was intended to distract maleopponents. It was certainly working verywell.

“You...you’re not me,” she managed. The cold was getting to her. She found herself stuttering as she startedto swim away, keeping one eye on her counterpart. If she could get to the other side of thelake, maybe she could get out of the water where she would have at least afighting chance. “You’re just somethinghe dreamed up...”

“But I can be you,” the other Erica said. She stepped forward, so she was perched onthe very edge of the lake. “I have beenpromised that if I remove you, I will have your life.”

Kit ran forward from behind her, but the other Ericasomehow sensed his attack and twisted to meet him, kicking out and striking himjust above the groin. Erica winced andswam as quickly as she could to the side, pulling herself out of thewater. Her damp clothing stuck to herskin, hampering her as she tried to move. It was lucky that there was no wind, or she would have had goose bumpsas well as everything else.

“You are not going to get away,” the other Ericasaid. She danced forward, moving with analmost feline grace, and lashed out at Erica’s throat. Erica managed to jump backwards, just intime. Her counterpart kept coming,lashing out again and again. She wasjust toying with her, Erica realised, playing with her before striking thefatal blow. “Do you understand me? You are not going to get away...”

We're the sameperson, Erica thought. She gatheredherself and struck back, remembering what her father and several of his friendshad hammered into her head. It stood toreason that they would be able to predict each other’s actions, surely. She punched out, only to see her counterpartstep aside and catch her arm, ready to snap her wrist. Her strength was astonishing – and terrifying. This Erica had been trained from childhood asa fighter, her whole life dedicated to learning how to take on and defeat heropponents. Part of Erica wondered whattimeline had given birth to her, before realising that it hardly mattered. Her counterpart was about to kill her.

Desperately, she thrust herself forward and slammed intothe other Erica. She was surprised, butshe didn't let go of Erica’s wrist. Erica brought her knee up and slammed it into her counterpart’s groin,praying that it would hurt. Hercounterpart gasped in shock and staggered backwards, still not letting go ofErica’s wrist. She had to slap hercounterpart’s hand before she let go, before shoving her into the water. It should slow her down for a few seconds.

Kit was staggering back to his feet, clearly stunned, butstill going. Erica caught his arm andpulled him towards Bruno and GBW, who seemed to be frozen in front of anothercounterpart. This one was clearly GBW,wearing a white coat and a neatly-trimmed goatee, with bright green eyes thathad captivated the two men. He turnedhis hypnotic gaze on Erica; realising the danger, she closed her eyes andlunged at the man. She crashed into himand sent him tumbling to the ground. Bruno and GBW snapped awake and stared around them in surprise, beforeBruno started staring at Erica’s counterpart. Rising from the lake, dripping with water, she looked like Venus risingfrom the depths.

“Run,” Erica yelled, grabbing hold of Bruno’s arm. “We need to get to the mountain!”

Their counterparts gave chase. Erica’s counterpart would have been able tocatch up with them, but she seemed to be waiting for GBW’s counterpart, who didn'tseem to be able to run so hard. Hisdemonic eyes reminded her of someone, although she couldn’t recall who. An actor from a children’s television programshe’d watched as a child, perhaps. Her GBW didn't have that sort of power.

Kit came to a halt as a sword slammed into the ground infront of him. Another Kit was standingon a rock, wearing a pirate’s outfit and carrying a cutlass in one hand. “And where do you think you’re going, matey?” He demanded. “We have yet to ravish the men on this fine ship, my dear.”

“You are not me,” Kit snapped, as he picked up thesword. “I would never...”

“Of course you would,” his counterpart said. “Come to the dark side, Kit. The bad guys have all the best times.”

Kit lashed out with the sword, but his counterpart deflectedit with ease and jumped down to engage him in a furious sabre duel. Erica couldn't even follow their motions astheir swords clashed time and time again, dancing in and out as they both triedto break through the other’s defences and strike him down dead. Erica’s counterpart ran up behind her, apuffing GBW alternate following, drawing one of her own swords from herback. There was no sign of a Brunoalternate, but the three they’d seen were more than enough to deal with thefour travellers.

“Like I said, you’re weak,” Erica’s counterpartsaid. She pointed her sword at Erica’sthroat, who went very still. “Don’t you knowthat you could take what you want from the world, if you had the strength?”

Bruno leapt forward. “Oh, lesbian ninja,” he said. “Marryme and I will...”

Erica’s counterpart slashed out with her sword towardshim, giving Erica a chance to leap at her and send her crashing to theground. There was no plan, just adesperate attempt to get the drop on her before her counterpart killed them all. Erica gasped in pain as her counterpartelbowed her, frantically struggling to break free. Bruno jumped on her hand holding the swordand it broke, leaving the sword falling free. Erica saw her counterpart’s face twist in pain, the sight so like herown that it froze her for a long second, just long enough for GBW’s counterpartto come up to her and stare right into her eyes. His greenish gaze held her spellbound, all ofher strength fading away into nothingness. Fighting was impossible...

GBW’s counterpart screamed as Bruno slashed his legs withthe sword, breaking eye contact between him and Erica. Erica’s counterpart snaked her good arm upand caught hold of Erica’s throat, trying to squeeze the life out of her. There was a moment when she was sure that herlife was flashing in front of her, and then Bruno cut her counterpart’s headclean off, sending Erica falling on top of her. Blood flowed freely, pooling on the ground, before both the body and theblood vanished into thin air. Ericapulled herself to her feet, hoping – praying – that the alternate version ofherself had been nothing more than the product of Eeean’s imagination. The crippled counterpart of GBW looked up, asif he was trying to pray himself, before Erica kicked him in the throat. His body vanished into thin air as well.

Kit was still duelling with his counterpart, neither ofthem seeming to have an edge. Erica tookthe sword from Bruno, but hesitated before joining in the fight. Kit’s counterpart was much better than her,even after her experiences in Alexander’s world. Instead, she reached for her shirt and pulledit up, exposing her breasts. Kit’scounterpart blinked and stared at her, just long enough for Kit to run himthrough. Like the other two, his bodyfaded and vanished as soon as he died.

“I think I just kicked feminism in the nuts,” Erica saidruefully, as she redid her shirt and bra. “My liberated sisters would be shocked to see me.”

“I can hear a thousand of their voices crying out inhorror before being suddenly silenced,” Bruno agreed. He grinned at her. “Your counterpart was quite striking. Would you put that outfit on for me one day?”

“Move,” Erica said, aiming a slap at him. “This isn't over until we get to the top ofthe mountain.”

“It isn't over until the fat lady sings,” Kit agreed, “andI don’t hear anyone warbling.”

They crossed the grassy plain, watching carefully for anysign of other counterparts hunting for them, and reached the mountain. It was just as unnatural as the rest of theworld, being far smoother and harder to climb than a real mountain. Parts of it were slippery as well, makingtheir climb difficult; GBW almost slipped back down the mountain before hecaught himself. At least the world’sdesigner hadn't included cliffs and rocky slopes to make life more interestingfor his visitors. The flag fluttered inthe distance, dominating the top of the hill. Somehow, Erica couldn’t believe that it was going to be that easy. They couldn't just walk up to the top andtake the flag...

An explosion shook the entire mountain. Erica caught sight of a figure perched on ahigher ledge, tossing something down towards them. It fell past their position and exploded below,sending rocky fragments flying through the air. Another came far too close to her, allowing her to realise that it was atest tube, before it fell past her and exploded. The figure cackled and threw yet another onedown towards their position. Ericacursed as she recognised the figure. There had been a Brunocounterpart after all.

“I think he’s supposed to be me,” Bruno said, from wherehe was sheltering under a ledge. “Ithink my aim is better through.”

“He doesn't have to be Anne Oakley with Grenades,” Kitsnapped. “All he has to do is keep uspinned down. Do you think he’ll ever runout of test tubes to throw at us?”

Erica winced as a piece of flying debris caught her inthe leg. “I think we’ll have to climb upafter him,” she said. She nodded towardsone set of possible handholds. “You gothat way and I’ll go this way.”

She waited until another test tube was flung past themand then started to scramble up the rock. It was difficult to find enough handholds to keep moving, but fear – anda grim awareness of what Bruno’s counterpart could do if he saw her in the open– propelled her forward. She was halfwayup to his ledge before he even realised she was there and stared down at her, uncorkinga test tube and preparing to pour its contents down on her. His face, a devilish parody of the Bruno sheknew and loved, held her frozen for an instant too long. A white acid fell from the tube and scaldedher arms. She screamed, just as Kitappeared behind Bruno’s counterpart and shoved him off the mountain. He fell head over heels until he hit theground below.

Kit reached out to help her up. “Are you alright?”

Erica glanced down at her arm. The shirt she’d worn had been burned rightthrough, leaving the acid to burn away at her unprotected skin. It looked badly burned, but most of thedamage appeared to be minor. Her armhurt, but compared to what her serf-girl counterpart had gone through it wasnothing.

“**** me,” Bruno said, as he pulled himself up onto themountain top. “He was worse than DoctorWhat.”

“Could be,” GBW said. “Take the flag and let’s get out of here.”

Erica looked up at the flag and cursed, again. The damn thing was out of reach. Eeean’s final joke – even if they beat theircounterparts, they couldn't take the flag. For a moment, she hesitated, and then Kit motioned for her to come overand let him pick her up. Standing on hisshoulders, she was just tall enough to take the flag and declare victory.

“Do you see this?” She yelled. “Eeean! We won your contest! Let us out of here!”

The world went away in a flash of white light.

 

ChapterTwenty-Eight<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />



“I lost?” Eeean’svoice said. “I’m not supposed to lose.”



Erica glanced around the mirrored world, looking up atthe reassuringly solid RV. The voice wasstill booming from everywhere and nowhere, yet it sounded more human. She didn't find that very reassuring, notwhen Eeean had demonstrated so much power. Watching herself – even an alternate version of herself – die had beenunnerving.



“Perhaps you should have thought of a tougher challenge,”Bruno said. “Perhaps you should have...”



“Shut up,” Kit said, quickly. “We won your game, God. Let us go.”



“Or perhaps I should put you on trial,” Eeean mused.



“What for?” Brunodemanded. “Being a grievously savagerace? Or for daring to beat you in agame you designed yourself?”



“For interfering,” Eeean said, firmly. “You have left a trail of shattered worlds inyour wake.”



“None of us asked tobe on those worlds,” Erica pointed out. “Mostof the time we ended up being sucked into their politics by accident.”



Eeean ignored her. “You visited a world ruined by a nuclear holocaust,” he said. “Instead of remaining there to assist themwith their repopulation program, you chose to palm them off with some porn andvanish before they could catch up with you.”



“It was good porn,”Bruno objected. “Any man who failed toget an erection after watching Big Boobs Horton strutting her stuff has to beill...”



“Silence,” Eeean ordered. “And then there was the world dominated by chaos-loving alienfiends. You interfered with one of yourcounterparts and left your fellow humans at the mercy of the aliens.”



“And if we had stayed,” GBW snapped, “we would have beenkilled as well.”



“And then you squashed Adolf Hitler...”



“Whose life had been unnaturally prolonged,” Kitinjected.



“And then you left that world in chaos too as various Nazifactions fight for dominance,” Eeean said, ignoring him. “And then you introduced modern ideas to asociety that had remained stable for thousands of years, before taking awaytheir God-King. And then you abandoned him in a world he doesn’t understand.”



Erica gathered herself. “You’re picking and choosing your examples,” she said. “Do you really think we had a choice...?”



“You could have left the God-King’s world as soon as yourjumper recharged,” Eeean said. “Instead youstayed there and interfered.”



“And if we hadn’t,” Kit said, “they would have been wipedout by the barbarians.”



“It would have happened as it was meant to happen,” Eeeaninformed him. “Interference in other societiescan produce unfortunate effects. Youremoved the person who was keeping that world stable – his successor, lackinghis immortality, will lose control and the empire will fragment. All of that is your fault.”



“Maybe,” Erica conceded, “but did we do the wrong thing?”



There was no answer. “The world created by Alexander was only a good world for those on top,and even for them life could be nasty, brutish and short,” she said. “Even the most powerful of their aristocrats wasat the mercy of disease, or war; the serfs and slaves suffered badly, groaningunder the weight of their labours. Byintroducing new knowledge, new ideas, we started to improve everyone’scondition. How could that be wrong?



“How can you look down from your lofty perch and condemnus? If you were God, with all theinsight and knowledge that He possesses, you would know that we were either swept up in events against our will, orthat we interfered with the best of intentions. Don’t you know what happens to slaves in that world, or women, or peopletaken by the barbarian tribes? How canyou condemn us for wanting to stop it?”



She stared up at the mirrored surface, daring Eeean to faceher. “I don’t believe you’re God,” sheadded, sharply. “We saw beings of vastpower in the junkyard world – I think you’re just another one of them, morehuman than most. You have power, butnothing else. No insight, nounderstanding and certainly no compassion. All you do is play games with people’s lives!”



“I am God,” Eeean insisted. “I should cast you out or smite you orsomething.”



“Something, yes,” Erica said. She nodded to the others to get into theRV. “We’re going to leave now. Don’t try to stop us.”



The entire world seemed to shake with the force of Eeean’slaughter. “I am God,” he repeated. “Do you think that your little jumper willwork if I do not allow it?”



Erica ignored him, following the others into the RV. The innards were a terrible mess, withcomputer junk scattered everywhere, but the device – the jumper, Eeean hadcalled it – was intact and still linked to its laptop. It had to have recharged by now, Erica toldherself firmly, and if the bat-like aliens had been unable to stop them fromleaving, maybe Eeean would be unable to stop them too.



The RV shook as Bruno pushed the button. “I told you it wouldn’t work,” Eeean’s voicesaid. Outside, Erica saw the mirroredsurface surrounding them. “Do you thinkthat you can just drive away from me?”



Kit started the engine. “I certainly intend to try,” he said, and hit the accelerator. “I think...”



The mirrored surface came right at them and there was aterrible crash. Bruno shouted in pain asthe RV tilted, slamming a broken laptop into his knee, before hitting theground and coming to a halt. Ericapulled herself back upright and peered out of the window. They were in a small room, crammed withcomputers that reminded her of the devices built and used by Doctor What. And, seated in front of one of the computers,was an overweight man with a large pair of glasses and a balding head.



He looked up at them in horror, and then turned back tothe microphone. “Pay no attention to theman behind the mirror,” he said, quickly. “The Great and Powerful Eeean...”



Erica threw open the door and stormed outside. The man – Eeean, she realised – turned toface her, backing away all the time. Before she could grab hold of him, he turned and ran towards anothermirror, hanging on the wall. He threw himselfinside and vanished with a flash of light. Erica followed him, stopping just in front of the mirror, and lookedinto it. A thousand alternate versionsof herself looked back. They all seemedto be smiling at her.



“Just a trick,” Kit said, from behind her. Erica turned to see him examining some of thecomputers with a thoughtful air. “It wasall an illusion.”



“Maybe,” Erica said. She still remembered turning to stone. The experience had been real – unless, of course, she’d been hypnotisedinto thinking that she’d been turnedto stone. But they’d already discoveredthat reality was rather more flexible than most people assumed. “But if he wasn’t as all-powerful as he claimed,what happened to create this place?”



“Someone built it, of course,” GBW said. He too was examining the computers, but withrather more comprehension. “The samepeople who built the devices Doctor What used in his quest for godhood. Maybe the same people who helped Cecil to goback in time and help Hitler, or made Alexander the Great immortal.”



Erica stared at him. “Do you know how to operate these controls?”



“I think so,” GBW said. He sat down in front of the console and started tapping away at it. “Most of the theory doesn't make sense to me,but as far as I can determine the system allows one to interface directly withthe universe and alter it at will. Doctor What was ranting about something comparable before you burst inand saved my ass.”



“Alter everything,” Bruno mused. “Do you think we could use it?”



“I think it would be very dangerous to try,” GBW said,flatly. “This isn't a computer game you’rehacking to get extra lives or unlimited ammo. These systems interface directly with the operating system for an entireuniverse. Push the wrong button andbillions of lives might just pop out of existence.”



“But we could change everything,” Bruno said. Erica and Kit exchanged glances. Was it just her, or was Bruno sounding a lotlike Doctor What? “Rewrite the universeso it actually works.”



Erica hesitated. Bruno swept over her. “You knowall the problems with the world,” he said. “There’s no proper space program – well, we could change that. And there’s a war on against bastards whokill women for wearing revealing clothes – we could obliterate them and endtheir threat forever. And there arelying politicians who screw us time and time again and don’t even bother to uselube. We could turn them all into pigsand watch them fight for slops.”



“I wonder how anyone would be able to tell thedifference,” Kit mused.



“Don’t you see?” Bruno demanded. “We could reshapethe world!”



“I think that it would end badly,” GBW said. “Bruno...where do we stop?”



He waved one hand at the console. “This is limitless power, utterly withoutrestraint,” he said. “It was designed bybeings far more advanced than us puny humans. We don’t have the maturity to handle this sort of power.”



“Maybe one of us would become a monster, just like him,” Bruno said, nodding towards themirror where Eeean had vanished. “Butthere’s four of us. We could preventeach other from making terrible mistakes.”



“Then let us prevent you now,” Erica said. “Bruno...rewriting the universe sounds fun,but in real life...”



“If not us,” Bruno demanded, “than who?”



“God, perhaps,” Kit said. “In a multiverse where everything has to happen at least once, maybethere is a God watching over us all.”



“But if there was a God,” Bruno pointed out, “what wouldhe need with all this equipment?”



GBW grinned. “Idon’t think this was built by God,” he said. “The people who built this were merely awesomely powerful. But we would seem awesomely powerful too,from an ant’s point of view.”



“Ants get squashed by humans,” Bruno said. “Sad bastards tear apart anthills merely forthe fun of it. How do we know thatwhoever built this complex doesn't intend to do the same to the human race?”



“If they did, it would have happened by now,” GBW said,flatly. “This place...I think itcontrols everything. They could have eradicatedthe human race by now if they’d wanted to put an end to any threat we pose. Instead...they just watched.”



Bruno snorted. “Andmaybe they should have interfered,” he said. “How many generations of humans lived and died in poverty, unaware ofwhat they were missing, abused by those more powerful than themselves, whenthey could have put an end to it?”



Erica said nothing. Eeean had condemned them for interfering on Alexander’s world, but shestill felt that they had done the right thing. Even Alexander had agreed, choosing to leave rather than fight tomaintain the stagnation that had almost doomed his empire. But he'd been a large part of causing thatstagnation, his eternal presence preventing new blood and ideas from rising tothe top. Or maybe his world would havestagnated if he’d lived just long enough to conquer the entire known world andthen died.



But his empire in their world had fragmented as soon ashe’d died, she reminded herself, and fragmentation brought innovation as wellas chaos. Perhaps there was some perfectbalance between order and chaos that would allow innovation and at the sametime allow safety for the humans caught up in the world, but she couldn't see howthey could create a world with such a perfect balance. If Alexander, one of the foremost militaryminds in human history, had been unable to do so, she doubted the four of themcould do any better.



“Bruno,” GBW said, slowly, “I understand yourfeelings. I know that we could changethe world. We can use this tech to gethome, or to work out how to control the jumper and steer a course back toAlexander’s world, or any other world. ButI don't think that we should meddle with the equipment here. There would be no room for missteps oraccidents when we’re mucking around with the universe itself. No one would be able to recover from what wedid, if we ****ed up. And we’re humans,limited humans. I think we would ****up.”



He hesitated. “Itis not for us to decide who lives and who dies,” he added. “That didn't work out very well for HalJordon and it won’t work out very well for us.”



Bruno looked at him for a long moment, and then noddedslowly. “I don’t want to go home,” headmitted, finally. “Why don’t we justkeep moving from world to world?”



“We could,” Erica admitted. She’d wanted to go home, but in truth...whatwas waiting for them there? A collegethat bored her half the time, then...a job? One she might not enjoy, or one she was grossly overqualified todo? The very thought wasnightmarish. And yet...



She put her thoughts into words. “How many times have we nearly been killedsince we started on our little journey?”



“A few hundred times,” Bruno said. “Maybe more if you include the risks ofcatching the Black Death or Smallpox or something else that was gone by thetime we were born. But life is full ofrisks. You can die because you gotknocked down by a car, or murdered by some nutcase with a gun who thinks thatthe pink elephants are out to get him, or blown up in a random terroristattack...why shouldn't we face the risks and keep exploring?”



Kit smiled. “Iagree,” he said, cheerfully. “We shouldjust keep wandering from world to world. GBW?”



“I didn't know that we were voting,” GBW said. He was fiddling with the computers. “But...is it wrong of me to say that I wantto go home?”



He sighed. “I justfeel that we’ve risked too much over the past few days,” he added, after amoment. “How long has it been, really,since we started out from home?”



“A few months,” Erica said.



“Coward,” Kit said. GBW glared at him. “Look, if wecan use this tech to get home, I think we should use it and then we can pick upsome proper supplies before we jump out to another world. Think of all the things we could bring withus if we knew that we were going toneed them. More guns, more information,more guns...”



“Food and drink,” Erica said, dryly. “And medical supplies.”



“But that leaves one other question,” Bruno said. “What do we do with this place? And what happened to the fat dude with thegod complex?”



GBW tapped a couple of the computers, one after theother. “I think he jumped into a randomtimeline,” he said. “The systems here can'tactually interfere with themselves – in this room, he didn't have any power atall. He was just someone operating thecomputers.”



“I see,” Erica said. She thought she did, but much of what GBW was describing was beyondher. “Can he get back?”



“I don’t think so,” GBW said, after a long moment. “In fact, I'm not entirely sure how he gothere in the first place. But it’s asimple matter to program the computers to forbid him entry, should he manage toget his hands on a jumper and hop back into this world. As to what we do with this place...”



He stood up and walked towards one of the doors, peeringinto the next room. Erica followed him,seeing a vast and utterly incomprehensible machine that seemed to exist in morethan three dimensions. Her head hurtwhen she tried to look at it closely, as if her very thoughts were twisted apartand then spat back into her mind. GBWwalked past it, seemingly unaffected, and stopped in front of a column oflight. It was so bright that Erica hadto cover her eyes just to look at it properly.



“Yes, I thought that that would be the case,” GBW mumbledto himself. “Doctor What didn't have oneof these, but Eeean did. And I think Iknow why.”



He reached for a control panel. Erica caught his hand before he could touchit. “GBW,” she said, “what are youdoing?”



GBW grinned at her, his face lit up by the glowinglight. “Choose,” he said. “The lady or the tiger?”



Erica blinked. “Whatsort of choice is that?”



“Maybe the best kind,” GBW said. He shook his head, as if he was suddenlydizzy. “All of the knowledge Doctor Whatthrust into my head...it comes in fits and starts. I know how to operate some of this equipment evenif I don’t understand half of the principles involved.”



He chuckled. “Quantumscience, or maybe it’s just divine hand-waving,” he added. “It works fine as long as you don't look atit too closely. Meddling with the verymake-up of the universe itself...it’s the observer effect, you see. He makes it happen, but at the same time thevery act of observing changes the effect...”



“You’re babbling,” Erica said. She started to pull him away from the glowinglight. “I think we need to have a quietsit down and rest a bit before we go home.”



“Not yet,” GBW said, pulling away from her. “Like I said, the lady or the tiger. Or maybe Eeean or the person who was actuallysupposed to operate this equipment and monitor the multiverse.”



He reached out and pressed his hand against the controlpanel. The world seemed to spin aroundErica for a long moment, as if she was suddenly dizzy from hunger, and then theglowing light faded out of existence.



And in its place was a naked woman.