ADVENTURES THROUGH TIME (2025 Edition) by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 18 – RAVENSBRÜCK

16:21 (GMT)

Tuesday, May 26, 1942 ‘B’

Tower ALPHA, RAF Air Station Northolt

England

Nancy was reading through the latest situation report from Warsaw when Thomas Fairbanks, her computer expert, showed up at the door of her office with a sheet of paper in his hands. Her welcoming smile faded when she saw the concerned expression on the African-American’s face.

“What is it, Tom?”

“Something bad, Nancy. This is a message on the radio net of the SS Corps that we just intercepted and decoded. We think that it was made by Reinhardt Heidrich.” Nancy frowned as Tom gave her the sheet of paper. Heidrich, now the top-ranking SS officer not dead or captured yet, had been evading her efforts to find him for over a day now. Reading quickly the message, Nancy suddenly got up from her chair, revolted by what was in it.

“Is that the whole list of addressees?”

“Yes, Nancy. This was sent basically to all the concentration camps which are still operating.”

“That Heidrich bastard! This will totally screw up our present operational plans. Come with me, Tom: we are going to see Farah with this.” Leaving her office with Tom on her heels, Nancy started chasing for Farah around the Tower ALPHA, finally finding her in the infirmary. Nancy handed her the message Tom had brought her.

“This is a message intercepted on the SS Corps radio net which was probably sent by Heidrich. In it, he orders all the SS units in and near German concentration camps to start erasing as rapidly as possible all the traces of the camps and to eliminate all witnesses. Basically, this means the massacre on the spot of all camp inmates, followed by the destruction of the camps. Hundreds of thousands of tortured souls are in immediate danger of death, Farah.”

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After a moment of stupor, Farah read the message, then threw it away in a rare fit of rage.

“How could anyone be this cruel?”

Rage was then replaced by grief and tears. Nancy hurried to her friend and hugged her, caressing her back.

“We will do everything humanely possible to prevent this monstrosity, Farah, I promise. If you agree to it, I will suspend temporarily all our other activities until this crisis is over.”

“Go ahead, Nancy.” said Farah, tears still rolling on her cheeks. “You have my authority to do as you please on this. Just save those poor people.”

“You can count on me, Farah. Tom, come with me!”

As the two of them left the infirmary, Nancy gave rapidly a few directives to the computer genius.

“I want you to extract from our data banks all the information we have on German concentration camps and organize it into target files. We will need the maps of the camps and their exact locations, the size of the German garrisons and the number of inmates to be expected, along with any personal info on key German personnel in those camps. If we don’t have good maps, then send out reconnaissance probes to take air photos of the camps. Do this as fast as you can and enlist the help of all the sensor operators you deem necessary.”

“I’m on it, Nancy.” replied Tom before walking away. Running back to her office, Nancy called up on her computer screen the listing of available Time Patrol personnel and of their present tasks. She grimaced at seeing how few people she had to do the present job. For one, she could use parts of Task Force Babylon. She could also strip some personnel and robots from the Warsaw sector, which was relatively quiet at this time. The other big problem she would face was how they were going to feed and care for all these inmates once they were out of danger. Those people could not just be abandoned in the middle of Germany or Poland to fend for themselves. Thankfully, the field hospital deployed from Aldershot by the British Army was now about ready in Northolt, while good progress had been made by the British on setting up an adjoining refugee camp. Checking on the stockpiles of food acquired and stored away by Boran Kern, Nancy was pleased by what she saw: they had presently a bit over 1,800 tons of non-perishable food in storage. While this was a good start, it however represented only a few days of food at the most for the hundreds of thousands of inmates presently held

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in German camps. They would need more, a lot more. This promised to be a logistical nightmare of the first magnitude. Her head nearly spinning from so many problems at once, Nancy started writing up a series of short operational orders. Once she was done with those, she grabbed the old-style telephone on her desk that connected her to the British telephone system and started calling a number of military officials representing the forces of various governments in exile in Great Britain. She was going to call in a few favors today, starting with some help from General De Gaulle, of the Free French Forces.

07:11 (Honolulu Time)

Tuesday, May 26, 1942 ‘B’

Navy Officers’ cafeteria, Pearl Harbor

Hawaii

Ingrid Weiss and Tom Allen were having breakfast with Jenny Kawena, Bill Conway and Lori Kano in the officers’ cafeteria when Amelia Earhart came in and shouted at the top of her lungs.

“ALL TIME PATROL PERSONNEL ARE TO REPORT BACK RIGHT NOW TO THE BABYLON FOR AN URGENT OPERATIONAL BRIEFING.” Jenny and Bill looked with indecision at Ingrid, Tom and Lori as they stopped eating and got up.

“Uh, should we come too?” asked Bill, getting a head shake from Ingrid.

“I don’t think so, Bill. We will keep you informed, though.”

“But we were supposed to take off in one hour with the BRITANNIA for a sweep of China.” objected Jenny, who had been looking forward to that mission. Ingrid smiled at her eagerness.

“Jenny, I am sure that it will only be delayed and not cancelled. We will see you later in Hickam Field.”

The two teenagers and the giant reporter then left the cafeteria, along with a good fifty other members of the Time Patrol, causing the start of a wild cycle of rumors and suppositions amongst the American officers present.

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Michael Stone gathered the personnel of Task Force BABYLON inside the cargo bay of the research ship, a file in his hands. Once everybody was present, he spoke up, nearly shouting to be heard from everyone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have urgent new orders. We have just learned that the SS troops guarding the various German concentration camps have been ordered to eliminate as quickly as possible all the inmates and to destroy the camps in order to erase all proofs of their existence. We are talking about maybe 300,000 persons or more who are in immediate danger of being murdered.”

Exclamations and comments flew at that announcement. Ingrid, who was close to Hanna Reitsch and Otto Skorzeny, saw that they were shaken hard by the news. Everybody had been careful up to now not to raise the subject of Nazi atrocities with Hanna and Otto, not because the two ex-Nazis would excuse those actions but rather to avoid making them feel guilty about them. Ingrid knew that Hanna had once confronted Himmler about the existence of concentration camps while she was still serving the Third Reich, to which the head of the SS Corps had sworn that no such things existed in Germany. As for Otto, he may have been a ruthless soldier but he had a sense of military honor that would make the commitment of such atrocities unthinkable to him. Ingrid then concentrated her attention back to Stone, who had resumed his speech.

“The detailed plans for our rescue operation are still being put together, but what I can tell you is that we will leave behind two operational scoutship, the BRITANNIA and the TEEN TEAM. Our technical support team will also stay in Hawaii. The rest of us will leave this morning at nine O’clock for Northolt. We should stay in Europe for about two days, or until the camps are all secured.”

“Could I come and cover that operation?” shouted Lori Kano. Stone gave her a warning look.

“Lori, you don’t know what you will get yourself into. Those camps we will free are simply Hell on Earth and those sights may well traumatize you for life.” Lori hesitated but finally put on a brave face.

“I still want to go.”

“As you wish, Lori. I will now ask you all to pack and be ready to leave at nine. Dismissed!”

09:07 (Honolulu Time)

Parking apron, Hickam Field

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Doug Wilson, seeing the downcast expression of Jenny Kawena as they waved goodbye at the departing fleet, got close to the small ensign and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about them, Jenny: they will come back safe and sound.” Instead of cheering up, the Japanese-American became even more depressed.

“I hope so, Doug, but I’m nearly afraid to use the cafeteria or mess because I am not sure that the abuse and taunting against me will not start again during the absence of your people. You should have heard some of the stupid, outrageous comments and slurs I overheard yesterday about the way you mix freely between nationalities and races. On the surface, everybody is happy that you are destroying the Japanese war machine, but many are resentful of the way you push your social ethics around. Once you are gone, this place will simply revert back to its bad old ways. I am not sure that I will then want to stay.”

“Jenny, believe me when I say that many of us are concerned about this as well. I know that Ingrid has already spoken to Nancy about you and that something will be done once this campaign is over. In the meantime, you and Bill will still accompany Ingrid and Tom on missions. We will take off tonight at midnight, so you might as well catch some rest now.”

“I just woke up two hours ago, Doug.”

Elizabeth suddenly smiled as an idea came to her.

“I know what you could do. We could use a time scooter to drop you at your parents’ house now. We would then go get you back at the end of the afternoon, after Doug and me could take some rest. Your parents do live in Hawaii, no?” To Elizabeth and Doug’s alarm, that last question brought tears to Jenny, who turned away to hide her crying. Embarrassed, Elizabeth gently took hold of the ensign, trying to repair whatever mistake she had committed.

“I’m sorry, Jenny. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that question.” Jenny shook her head, wiping her tears away while trying to control her sobs.

“That’s alright, Elizabeth: you could not possibly know. While my father, who is of Polynesian blood, does live on a plantation in Oahu, my mother is presently detained in an internment camp in Manzanar, California.”

“But…why?” asked Doug, confused.

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“Mostly because she is Japanese.” answered Jenny in a bitter voice. “She would have normally been allowed to stay in Hawaii under the rules of martial law, except that she was deemed a security risk because she has a sister who works for the government in Japan. They corresponded regularly before the war and that must have made the army censors suspicious of my mother. My father was hit hard by her deportation.” Doug Wilson then looked at Bill Conway, who stood nearby with a shamed expression on his face.

“Uh, Bill, would you mind leaving us alone with Jenny for a while?”

“Sure, Doug.” hastily replied Bill, who understood that Doug’s request was more like an order, actually. Wilson waited until Conway was well beyond earshot before speaking in a low voice to the distraught Jenny.

“How long has your mother been in that camp in Manzanar, Jenny?”

“She was deported just after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. I have not been allowed to go visit her since.”

“But, that’s both stupid and cruel.” objected Elizabeth. “You are a member of the Navy Intelligence, helping to decrypt Japanese messages, and they refuse you the right to visit your mother?”

Jenny made a sour face as she looked into Elizabeth’s eyes.

“I may be part of the Navy but, when I was inducted into service, I was classified ‘4C’, meaning that I am considered an enemy alien. Before your Time Patrol asked for Japanese linguists, I had to work at the Joint Intelligence Center’s annex in Honolulu and was not allowed inside the base proper.”

“And yet you are ready to risk death on missions in order to serve your country, even though your country refuses to treat you like a full citizen.”

“That’s it in a nutshell, Elizabeth.” said Jenny, sounding thoroughly discouraged. Both Doug and Elizabeth exchanged looks, then Doug gently took hold of Jenny’s hands.

“Do you know where your mother is in Manzanar and do you have a picture of her?”

“I do.” said Jenny, who then searched inside her service purse and took a small picture out of her wallet, giving it to Doug. “She is detained in Block 7 and her name is Minami Kawena, born Fushida. Do you think that you can really do something for her?”

“I don’t know yet but I will speak to Nancy about your mother. Having been herself a Japanese in two of her previous lives, I believe that she will not be indifferent to

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this situation. Besides, this whole question of internment of Japanese-Americans reeks of racism, which we all abhor in the Time Patrol. Have faith, Jenny.”

“You are so kind, both of you.” said tearfully Jenny before kissing Doug and Elizabeth on the cheek. Bill Conway watched them from a distance, then walked away.

21:45 (GMT)

Tower ALPHA

RAF Air Station Northolt, England

“Sir, just have all your aircraft avoid flying over occupied Europe for the next 24 hours unless you want them to be shot down.… No, I can’t explain the detailed reasons on the telephone. I will just say that anything that does not belong to the Time Patrol and is flying over occupied Europe tonight and tomorrow will be shot down, period!… No! There can’t be any exception, sir. I am talking about machines which will have total free rein to shoot on sight at any non-Time Patrol ship or craft…. Please do that, sir.” Nancy, a bit frustrated at General Ismay for taking so long to agree to her request, put down the old-style receiver of the British secure telephone and got up from behind her desk. Her videophone then buzzed as she was about to walk out of her office. Switching it on, she saw the face of one of her sensors operators.

“Nancy, the base main gate just advised us that a convoy of vehicles from the Free French Forces has shown up and will be here in a few minutes.”

“Excellent! Thanks, Rana.”

Leaving the office after switching off the videophone, Nancy went down to the reception level of the tower and walked down the access ramp, passing by the two combat robots posted on guard duty at the foot of the ramp. She had to wait only a couple of minutes before a convoy of trucks and jeeps bearing the Cross of Lorraine of the Free French Forces entered the disused parking lot in the center of which stood Tower ALPHA. A tall French senior officer stepped out of the leading jeep and came to Nancy, who saluted him after a slight hesitation.

“General De Gaulle? I didn’t expect you here tonight.”

Charles De Gaulle smiled while returning her salute, then shook her hand.

“This was the best way I found to make sure that our contingent arrived here quickly, Brigadier. I have with me two companies of naval infantry and a medical group with six ambulances. It was all that I could muster on such a short notice.”

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“General, you did great. I am due to brief all the mission participants at half past ten tonight. I will ask your company commanders and your doctors to be present at that briefing, which will be held in the main conference room of this tower.”

“And what about me, Brigadier?”

Nancy, surprised, then noticed that De Gaulle was wearing a steel helmet and a web belt supporting a holstered pistol.

“General, you are not seriously thinking about going on this mission, are you?”

“Are you going on it, Brigadier?”

“Uh, yes, but…”

“Then I am coming, Brigadier, especially if this mission is in France.”

“Well, parts of this operation will effectively happen on French soil. We are planning on taking and liberating all the transit and concentration camps run by the Germans in Europe tonight, three of which are inside France or just over the border. We have indications that the Germans want to eliminate all the inmates of these camps and then destroy all the evidence of their existence as quickly as possible. There are thousands of French men and women held in those camps.” De Gaulle was somber as he remembered the reports brought back by the Free French troops who had helped liberate the Neuengamme concentration camp a year ago, an operation that had also been led by Nancy Laplante when she was still working for the British.

“This will then be a true mission of mercy to help our compatriots. Thank you again for letting us participate in it, Brigadier, or should I say Jeanne d’Arc?” Nancy was surprised at first, then understood how De Gaulle could have learned about that.

“A French officer from Colditz must have spoken to you about what happened to me there, right?”

“More than one, actually.” replied softly the tall general, looking at her with something approaching reverence. “How much of her life do you actually remember, Brigadier?”

Nancy switched to Old French to answer him, nostalgia overtaking her for a moment.

“I remember everything, including the English soldiers who raped me in my cell and the agony of burning alive at the stake. To help free more French people tonight will be of great satisfaction to me. How many people around you know about this, General?”

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De Gaulle had to concentrate to understand all that she said: while not as different from its modern version than, say, Old English, Old French still needed a good ear and undivided attention to be comprehensible.

“Quite a few, actually. Many troopers have also heard about the rumors out of Colditz Castle concerning you. Would you like to review my troops before the briefing, Jeanne?”

Nancy, a lump forming in her throat, nodded her head.

“It would be a true honor, General.”

De Gaulle smiled, then turned towards his officers, standing near his jeep.

“LINE UP THE TROOPS FOR INSPECTION! JEANNE D’ARC WILL REVIEW YOUR UNITS.”

The officers immediately scrambled around, shouting orders and lining their soldiers in three ranks in front of the trucks, with the doctors and nurses forming up at the left end of the parade. Followed one pace behind by De Gaulle, Nancy then walked slowly along the ranks of soldiers, speaking briefly with a number of them. More than a few of the French soldiers actually had tears on their faces when she stopped in front of them to say a few words. The more tearful lot was however by far the group of sixteen French Army nurses, with whom Nancy spent more time speaking with. Finally, herself in tears, Nancy walked to the front of the parade, stopping and facing the French.

“Soldiers of France, it will be a truly great honor to fight with you tonight. You will soon receive a detailed briefing concerning your mission but know this: you will help free tens of thousands of poor souls held in horrible conditions in German concentration camps. Part of you will first help liberate the camp of Ravensbrück, a concentration camp reserved for women and where many brave French women from the Resistance are being starved and tortured slowly to death. The other half of your unit will in the meantime liberate the camp of Natzweiler/Struthof, in the Alsace region, before freeing in succession two transit camps situated inside France proper. Combat machines and ships of the Time Patrol will do most of the initial fighting, as there is no sense in risking casualties needlessly, but you will still be needed to sweep the camps for hidden guards and to weed out collaborators. Mostly, however, you will be there to help in the evacuation of the inmates and to provide first aid to them. Think of this operation as mostly a humanitarian mission. You will see many horrible things tonight, but I know that you will not falter and that you will represent France proudly. VIVE LA FRANCE!”

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“ VIVE LA FRANCE!” shouted in unison the French soldiers and medical personnel. Nancy then saluted General De Gaulle.

“General, may I have you and your officers follow me inside?”

“Certainly, Brigadier.”

As the group of French officers was about to walk up the access ramp of Tower ALPHA, De Gaulle stopped for a moment to examine one of the combat robots standing guard.

“An impressive thing, Brigadier. What are they actually capable of?”

“These combat robots are actually as powerful as a contemporary tank, apart from being invulnerable to small arms fire and small caliber shells. They are armed with a machine gun, an automatic 60mm grenade launcher, a twin missile launcher and a laser. They can also fly and jump spacetime. They may be only machines but they are quite intelligent actually.”

“How many of them do you have, Colonel?”

“The Time Patrol has a total of 10,800 of those combat robots, plus 600 much bigger machines used for air defense against aircraft and ships. However, some of those robots are in the future, defending our base there. We however still have here in this time period 10, 000 combat robots and 540 PDRs.”

“My God! You probably could sweep the Germans out of France with such a force.” exclaimed De Gaulle. Nancy nodded her head at that.

“That may be in the books soon, General. Part of my forces are in Hawaii, helping destroy the Japanese military machine in the Pacific, but some recent developments are making me think about relocating those forces elsewhere.”

“What is happening there? are the Americans unhappy about having your people there, Brigadier?”

“It is actually the other way around, General. Let’s say that the racial policies of the American government are starting to sour my stomach. I was hoping to influence them into changing the worst of their laws and policies and have been speaking on a number of occasions with American officials, including President Roosevelt, but it is like talking to a wall. They see our attempts as mere interference in their internal affairs. Did you know that the American government deported all their citizens of Japanese origin to so-called relocation camps, which are little better than some of the German camps we will liberate tonight?”

“Uh, no. I have to say that I never understood fully the Americans’ obsession about racial segregation, especially that concerning their black people. I remember still

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some disgraceful examples of such segregation I saw during the First World War, when American troops came to France. Where would you relocate your forces from Hawaii, though, Brigadier? All the other important locations in the Pacific are in Japanese hands, apart from Australia, which is quite far to the South.”

“Distance is actually not a factor for us, General, as we can jump spacetime and go anywhere in the world in a fraction of a second. I am actually seriously thinking about establishing part of my forces in Paris, after throwing the Germans out of there, of course.”

The French officers looked at each other, stunned for a moment.

“You could really take back Paris without too many casualties?” asked De Gaulle, hopeful. Nancy was dead serious as she answered him.

“I actually plan to take Paris without a fight, General. The more I think about it, the more I am tempted to initiate that move. It will however have to wait until after this operation is completed. Let’s go inside now.”

22:32 (GMT)

Main conference room, Tower ALPHA

RAF Air Station Northolt

“May I have your attention, please!” shouted Nancy in French, in order to facilitate things for the French officers present. The main conference room was now crowded with over fifty people involved with Operation MERCY. Nancy then made a map of Europe appear on the big viewing screen behind her.

“Operation MERCY will start at midnight and will involve simultaneous attacks against eight targets in the first phase of the operation, as shown by the red dots now visible on the map behind me. Once these eight targets are secured and the process of helping out the inmates is initiated, then part of our robot forces and a few personnel will be left behind to complete the evacuation while the rest will go to their second phase objectives. Once the second phase targets are secured, the third phase targets will then be taken. The key to this operation will be to not let ourselves bogged down in any particular location, as the Germans may use any delay on our part to murder the inmates still in their power. Once all the guards and collaborators are eliminated at a location, a force of at least fifty robots will be left to protect the inmates and the personnel caring for them in each of the liberated camps, a force which will be more than enough to ensure

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that no German force can return there. In case of a particularly fierce German reaction, our ships will be on call to provide immediate air support and additional combat robots will be sent as reinforcements. A reserve of 200 combat robots will be kept on standby here in Northolt for such an eventuality, so you will not have to worry about being overrun by the Germans. The Germans are anyway in a state of anarchy right now, with their leadership either dead, captured or on the run and with their state instruments of repression nearly exterminated during the course of the last two days. I will now distribute the target files to each of the groups involved with those targets. Study them, then brief your people and be ready to depart at midnight sharp. First objective: Auschwitz-Birkenau! The KRONOS will provide air support, with William Anderson, Michel Hofmann, Heinrik Braun and Martha Pfalz forming the ground team. You will control 400 combat robots and eight PDRs for that objective, which is by far the biggest on our list. I expect close to 100,000 inmates to be found in that camp complex alone. Another 200 robots and four PDRs will then help you secure your second phase objective, Theresienstadt, a camp-cum-ghetto near Prague holding approximately 55,000 Jews. Due to the size of those two objectives, you will not have a third phase target assigned to your group.”

Nancy then gave copies of the target files on Auschwitz-Birkenau and Theresienstadt to Peter Stilwell and the members of his ground team. She then pointed at a red dot on the map.

“Second objective: Ravensbrück! The scoutship WALKÜREN will provide air support to me, Otto Skorzeny, Klaus Manheim, Sylvie Comeau and the First Compagnie d’Infanterie de Marine. We will be supported by 240 combat robots and six PDRs on that objective. Otto, on hitting the ground, you will go with forty combat robots take and hold the secondary camp just off the main camp. That camp, the ‘Jugendschutzlager Uckermark’, is reserved for the detention of young teenage girls. I count on you to not let time to the guards to start killing those girls.”

“You can count on me, Nancy.” Replied firmly the big Austrian. For a consecrated macho man like him, anyone showing violence or cruelty towards a young girl was beneath contempt. Nancy had actually chosen that particular task for Otto with the hope that it would make it easier for the ex-SS man to fight members of his old service corps. He took his copy of the target files on Ravensbrück, Buchenwald and Flossenburg and joined the other members of his group while Nancy kept briefing the other groups. The commander of the French unit assigned to work with him, Manheim

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and Sylvie, a Commandant Kiefer, looked suspiciously at the nametags on their gray Time Patrol uniforms.

“Are you three Germans, by any chance?”

“As a matter of fact, four of us are, or were I should say.” answered Hanna Reitsch, the pilot of the scoutship WALKÜREN. “Don’t worry, though: we are as bent as you on getting rid of the Nazis. As for Sylvie Comeau besides you, she was French-Canadian. Let’s read our target files while Nancy finishes briefing the others.” Only half convinced, Kiefer started going through the material inside his file. He found inside a color map of the area around Ravensbrück, a series of very high-definition air photos of the camp itself with annotations on them, a fact sheet about the camp and an extract from an operational order concerning the operation they would be executing. He read the last one carefully and found out that one of his platoons, along with Sylvie Comeau and four French nurses, was going to stay behind under the protection of forty robots while he and the rest of the force moved on to their next objective, Buchenwald. Kiefer sifted through the part of the file concerning Buchenwald, then through the part on Flossenburg, where 100 more robots would reinforce their group. Overall, he was surprised at how flimsy the German guard force was for such large camps, but he wasn’t going to complain about that. Looking up from his file, Kiefer saw that Nancy Laplante had joined them and was giving extra directives to Sylvie Comeau and to the pilot and copilot of the scoutship due to support them. Seeing that he was looking at her, Nancy quickly wrapped up her conversation and went to Kiefer, smiling to him.

“Do you have any questions about the plan, Mister Kiefer?” Seeing him hesitate, she looked intensely at him while her smile faded. She then led him to a deserted corner of the room and spoke in a near whisper.

“Mister, if you want to know, I have full confidence in the loyalty of all the members of the Time Patrol. Those people you will be working with may have been German, but they are now dedicated to the betterment of the whole of Humanity. If you are going to ask how I could know about your doubts, then know that I am a telepath and that I can read minds. Now, do you have any more questions?”

“Uh, no, Brigadier.” said the somewhat shaken Kiefer. Nancy then smiled again and patted his shoulder.

“Then welcome to the team, mister.”

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00:03 (GMT)

Wednesday, May 27, 1942 ‘B’

Scoutship WALKÜREN

800 meters above the Ravensbrück concentration camp North of Berlin, Germany

The amplified voice of Hanna Reitsch came up on the speakers of the scoutship’s cargo bay as the rear access ramp came down, revealing a patch of dark night sky.

“Heads up, ground team! Be advised that we can hear the sound of intermittent gunfire coming from the camp on our directional microphones. Our robots have not jumped to the camp yet, so this could mean only bad news.” Nancy, standing near the ramp with Otto Skorzeny and Klaus Manheim, ready to jump, swore to herself, then spoke in her helmet microphone.

“Hanna, have the robots jump to the camp now! I will jump now as well. Take care of the guard towers then and land to let out our French troops.”

“Got that!”

Heavily loaded with assault rifles and lots of ammunition, Nancy, Otto and Klaus then ran down the access ramp and jumped into the night, watched by the anxious French soldiers cramming the cargo bay along with Sylvie Comeau’s cargo platform.

Splitting up immediately from Nancy and Klaus, Otto flew down towards the Uckermark Youth Camp, which was situated apart from but close to the main camp. His helmet thermal camera let him see small flashes of light coming from a corner of the Youth Camp. He swore when he saw them: they were the muzzle flashes from rifles. Then, a series of bright flashes announced the arrival of the combat robots all over the camp area, followed by the noise of a short but very intense salvo of automatic fire from the robots. There was still some shooting going on when Otto landed inside the perimeter of the Youth Camp, his assault rifle ready to fire. He saw dozens of corpses lying beside a long ditch in the area where the initial gunfire had come and ran towards the ditch. A small form on the ground moved, making him point his weapon instinctively at it. The voice of a young child then cried out in pain.

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“Hilfe19!”

Checking first around him that no live guards were visible around, Otto then crouched besides the moaning girl and quickly examined her. She had been shot in the back but the bullet had seemingly missed her vital organs. Otto took a field dressing out of a uniform pocket and applied it to the girl’s wound, then caressed her hair.

“I have to go now but I will be back, little one. Hang on!”

“Please, don’t…” said the girl weakly in German.

“I have to, to help the others as well as you. I will be back, I promise.” As he got to his feet, Otto then realized that the ditch close to him was half filled with the bodies of young girls. Looking at the bodies around the ditch, he understood with horror that the line of corpses nearest to the ditch were more girls who had been executed firing squad-style by the German guards now lying a few paces away. Going to the nearest dead guard, he saw that he wore the uniform of the SS-Totenkopf. Full of rage and disgust, Otto kicked the dead guard hard.

“You worthless piece of shit! Wait until I find one of your comrades alive.” He then charged towards the nearest inmate block and kicked the door open, weapon at the ready. The long barrack turned out to be empty. Going to the next one, he kicked the door open as well, drawing a concert of frightened screams. Otto felt joy and relief at the sight of the dozens of young girls huddled on the floor, behind their triple bunk beds. He was near tears as he eyed the children cowering around him.

“DON’T BE AFRAID ANYMORE, CHILDREN: UNCLE OTTO IS HERE TO SAVE YOU.”

Nancy landed besides the camp headquarters and immediately sent thirty of her robots to lay waste to the SS guards’ barracks nearby. A SS officer came out of the building at a run as she was about to enter it. Cutting him down with a short burst of rifle fire, Nancy then walked in and methodically went through every room, killing any German she found and wrecking the radio and telephone equipment inside. Her next stop was the camp’s prison, a L-shaped building close to the headquarters building. Six robots were already surrounding it and blocking its exits. Firing one grenade inside through the main door first, Nancy then ran inside, passing through the now wrecked guardroom before crouching at the entrance of the hallway along which the cells opened.

19 Hilfe: ‘Help’ in German.

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She saw a SS guard running away from her near the end of the hallway. Taking a quick aim, she shot him once in the head, then got up and inspected each of the cells one by one, unlocking and throwing open every door. She found a total of seventeen women in the cells, one of them dead and the others in a very poor state. All were naked and had been forced to sleep on the bare dirt floor of their tiny cells. They also bore the marks of severe beatings and floggings over their emaciated bodies. Clenching her teeth, Nancy then spoke in her helmet microphone.

“Sylvie, this is Nancy, over.”

“Go ahead, Nancy.”

“I need you with some help at the prison block now. I have here sixteen women in very bad shape. They should get priority for evacuation, over.”

“I am on my way.”

One of the inmates then walked out shakily from her cell two doors down from Nancy, who ran to her and helped her keep her balance.

“You should save your strength, miss: you are too weak to walk.” Nancy said in French. The woman, while obviously spent physically, looked at her with fiery resolution, answering in heavily accented French.

“Those German bastards couldn’t break me and I will be damned if I don’t get out of here on my own two feet.”

Nancy looked at the tall blonde: despite having been nearly starved to death, the young woman, who was maybe 24 or 25 years old, must have been an athlete in better times. She had wide shoulders and stood about as tall as Nancy but, like her, was also very feminine. Her accent made her a Russian, probably.

“Now that’s what I call spirits.” Nancy said in Russian. “I am Nancy Laplante. What is your name, miss?”

The blonde smiled while she kept walking laboriously towards the prison’s exit.

“So, you are the famous Canadian time traveler. I am Senior Lieutenant Tatiana Korbut, of the Red Army Corps of Transmissions. Who did you bring with you to free us? The British?”

“No! I now work for myself. I lead an organization from the far future called the Time Patrol. We are taking and liberating all the German concentration camps tonight. You may be happy to learn that most of the Nazi leadership, including Hitler, is already in jail or dead and that we have been systematically eradicating the German secret

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police and security forces for over three days now. The Luftwaffe is also as good as finished.”

“So many good news at once. Do you want my death from a heart attack? Us Russians are not accustomed to good news piling on in a single day.” That made Nancy laugh: Tatiana was one spirited young woman with quite a dry sense of humor. Searching in a uniform pocket, she took out an energy bar and presented it to Tatiana, who grabbed it eagerly.

“Eat this: it will give you back some strength. We will stop in the guard room to find something for you to wear: you would not want to give a show to some of the French soldiers I brought with me tonight.”

The Russian, munching slowly on the energy bar and savoring every bit of it, looked down sadly at her ribs sticking out from under her skin and at her once firm breasts, now nearly flat.

“I was once the most sought-after woman in my regiment. Now, I couldn’t attract the eyes of anything but vultures.”

“Tatiana, you will be again beautiful, I promise you that. We will take good care of you and of the others.”

“Thanks!” replied the Russian, more moved than she wanted to show. “I will be in your debt forever for this. I don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

“Simple, Tatiana: get well. It will be our best reward.”

“You talk about your people but I don’t know what kind of people you lead. Are they Canadian?”

“A handful of them are, Tatiana. My people actually are from many nationalities and backgrounds. Most of my technicians and scientists are from the 34th century, while my field agents are from the 20th and 21st centuries. I even have a few Russians in my organization.”

“You will have to present me to them one day, Nancy.”

That gave an idea to Nancy, who looked intently in the blue eyes of the tall Russian.

“I will, Tatiana. In fact, you could stay with us if you wish so: you are the kind of person I would gladly enroll in my Time Patrol any time. The war will be soon over and it would be a shame to return you to a boring life in some state manufacture or, worse, to see you sent to a Gulag in Siberia by the NKVD as a ‘suspected traitor’ because you let yourself be captured.”

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“I didn’t let myself be captured!” protested angrily Tatiana. “I stayed behind in order to finish destroying our unit’s codes. Those German bastards tortured me for two days to make me tell them what I knew about the codes.” Nancy stopped then, with Tatiana still using her as a crutch, and gave her a sad look.

“I don’t doubt your courage for one second, Tatiana, but let’s not kid each other: you know very well how quick those NKVD bastards are at accusing others of cowardice while they themselves stay in the rear ranks, ready to shoot in the back any Soviet soldier who does not charge forward with enough gusto. You deserve so much better than to put your life back at the mercy of the NKVD, Tatiana. I offer you a full, exciting life in the company of some exceptional people. Think well about this.”

“I will.” said Tatiana, now deep in thoughts. They soon arrived at what was left of the guardroom, which had been all but blown to bits by Nancy’s grenade. Searching through the debris, Nancy found a number of folded prisoners’ gowns in the remains of a closet and gave one to Tatiana.

“Take this but wait before putting it on.”

“Why? You want me to give a show to your French friends?”

“Not at all, Tatiana: I will heal you first. In 1941, I was gifted with a few powers, including that of healing. Please don’t laugh: I am very serious about this.” Tatiana was nearly contemptuous as she looked with total incredulity at Nancy.

“Gifted by whom? And what else should I know about you?”

“I will show you. Please don’t move.”

Tatiana nearly recoiled with surprise when Nancy’s hands started glowing as they touched her bruised breasts, which bore whip marks. A marvelous, soothing sensation overtook Tatiana, who stopped resisting and looked in awe at Nancy as the Canadian moved her hands in succession to various parts of the Russian’s body, healing the nasty bruises and burns covering it in less than two minutes. Tatiana, now feeling none of the constant pain that had dodged her for weeks, was about to warmly thank her when she heard a strangled exclamation in French coming from the main entrance.

“Mon Dieu!”

Looking like Nancy in that direction, Tatiana saw another young woman wearing the same gray uniform as her savior, plus two French Army nurses and over six French soldiers, all looking at her. Only the Time Patrol woman didn’t seem stunned like the French were. Nancy ignored the lot and smiled to Tatiana.

“Time to get dressed, friend.”

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She then went to Sylvie Comeau, who was already heading towards the cells.

“Tatiana here will stay with us after this. Do you have your ambulances now?”

“They were just dropped off by the HERMES. We will establish our first aid station besides the camp kitchen, which is next door.”

“Excellent! I will go check how things are going in the rest of the camp. Tatiana, I will ask you to stay near the kitchen until this operation here is completed.”

“Understood.”

Nancy then walked out into the night, her weapon again at the ready. Firing was now very sporadic and she could see long columns of liberated inmates being led out of the nearest barracks by French soldiers. She immediately activated her helmet radio.

“Klaus, this is Nancy. Why are the inmates being marched out of their blocks? It is still not totally safe outside.”

“I know, Nancy, but we have to: the Germans had been boarding shut the windows of the blocks and had started to douse some of them with gasoline, obviously planning to burn the inmates alive inside their blocks. We have to evacuate those blocks already splashed with gasoline; in case a spark starts a flash fire.”

“I see! Good call on that one, Klaus. How is it going apart from that?” Nancy detected some contained anger in Klaus’ voice as he answered her.

“We were unfortunately too late for many of the inmates, Nancy. All the male inmates of the men’s sub-camp were already dead when I arrived there. Over a thousand men were summarily shot before our arrival. Also, I found that all the sick inmates in the camp’s so-called infirmary were killed by lethal injection.”

“The bastards!” raged Nancy. “Have you found the German medical staff?”

“Yes! They are now dead, including the camp doctor, Herta Oberheuser. I caught them as they were burning compromising medical files.”

“Well done, Klaus. Out to you. Otto, how is the situation at the Youth Camp?” The Austrian’s voice had a haunted quality to it when he answered back on the radio.

“I was too late for about sixty of the girls, Nancy. The guards were executing them as I was landing. I have about 450 survivors with me, including a young girl who needs immediate treatment for a bullet wound. Could you come, over?”

“I’m on my way. Switch on your helmet light to guide me to her.”

“It is done. Please hurry, Nancy.”

Without taking the time to answer, Nancy activated her armor’s integrated gravity drive system and flew off the ground, heading at top speed towards the Youth Camp. She

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arrived there just over a minute later, landing besides a ditch and near Otto, who was crouching over one of the small bodies lying on the ground. Nancy herself crouched and quickly inspected the wounded girl with the combined light from their two helmet lamps. Not wasting time, she then applied her hands on the girl and concentrated, healing her in minutes. Otto then cautiously, tenderly took the child in his arms and hugged her. Nancy could have sworn that the Austrian was crying, but Otto would never acknowledge that and commenting on it now would have been inappropriate. Nancy patted his arm instead.

“I will send a few captured trucks with French soldiers to pick up and bring the girls to the main camp in preparation for their evacuation. Are there any German guards left around?”

“None! I found the last of the bastards hiding in the toilets of the camp. I drowned him in shit.”

Nancy was silent for a moment, measuring the dept of Otto’s emotions, then nodded her head.

“Nice job, Otto. I am proud to have you with me tonight.”

“Thanks, Nancy…for opening my eyes.”

“And thank you for being a decent man, Otto.” she replied softly before flying off towards the main camp.

02:11 (Warsaw Time)

Local Time Patrol command center

Gesia Street, Warsaw Jewish Ghetto

Poland

“What is it, Mister Brunet?” asked sleepily Shimon Huberband as he entered the second-floor command center. One of the two Jewish fighters who stayed in the Time Patrol command post to act as couriers inside the Ghetto had just awakened him in his apartment, located in the building just across the rear courtyard. Fernand Brunet, himself looking tired, managed a weak smile.

“You remember about what I told you yesterday evening, about needing your community’s help in helping other Jews? Well, the time for that has arrived. I am sorry that we could not tell you anything more precise before, in order to keep the Germans from learning about our plans of action, but the Time Patrol has initiated one hour ago a

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plan to take control of all the German concentration and extermination camps in Europe. We have already taken eight camps and liberated their inmates. We are now about to jump to eight more camps to liberate them, but we have over 150,000 ex-inmates to evacuate to safety and to care for. Many of them will be brought to England but we plan to send here the Polish Jews found in Auschwitz-Birkenau, Majdanek, Sobibor, Belzec and Dachau and, later on, those found in Lublin, Treblinka and Chelmno. Adequate supplies of food and medicine will be sent with them but what we need are volunteers, by the hundreds, to help care for those poor souls. I was thinking that Mister Ringelblum could have his network of self-help organizations take care of finding such volunteers, along with temporary shelters for the camp survivors.”

For a moment, Fernand thought that Huberband was going to have a heart attack. The rabbi finally overcame the emotions which had nearly struck him down and shook Fernand’s hand vigorously.

“My friend, you don’t know how much of a gift to God you have just made. You can count on the full support of our community.”

“Then, you can tell Mister Ringelblum that a first shipload of about 600 survivors, along with supplies to care for them, will arrive in one hour in Muranowski Square. There will be many more after those.”

“Then I must hurry and go inform Emanuel.” said Huberband before looking at the Jewish fighter who had fetched him. “Will you escort me, Chaim?”

“Of course, sir!” replied the young man before shouldering his captured German Mauser rifle and following the rabbi outside. The single Jewish fighter left in the command post, a pretty young woman with a fiery character named Liliana Edelman, looked at the camera pictures visible on the screens of Mona Zirel’s portable workstation.

“Mister Brunet, do you know if George is alright?”

Fernand hid a smile as he looked at the Jewish teenager. Liliana and George Townsend had been developing with remarkable speed a mutual interest into each other in the last two days.

“I spoke with him on the radio less than fifteen minutes ago, Liliana. He was fine then and was completing the capture of the extermination camp in Sobibor, but I can have Mona here show you live the view from his helmet camera, if you would like that.”

“You could do that?”

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“It’s easy enough: we have continuous contacts with all our agents presently involved in Operation MERCY. Mona, please put on George’s view on your top left secondary screen.”

“Coming up!” Replied the giant engineer, playing a few seconds with her controls before the moving picture from a helmet camera appeared on one of her three secondary screens. She then pulled up a chair so that Liliana could sit and watch comfortably. Fernand used that period of relative calm to call Farah Tolkonen ‘A’ in Northolt and to pass on the willingness of the Warsaw Jews to help in caring for camp survivors. Once that was done, he called by old-style telephone the head of the Polish underground secret army, General Grot-Rowecki. After going through one transfer and one junior officer, the Polish general answered in a polite but guarded tone: while the Polish resistance was most thankful for the Time Patrol having all but booted the Germans out of Warsaw, tensions had been starting to appear about the alleged preferential treatment the Jews of Warsaw were getting from the Time Patrol, compared to the help given to non-Jewish Polish citizens. Brunet had been trying hard to dispel these allegations, but there was apparently a lot of bad blood between Jews and Catholics in Warsaw as well as in the rest of Poland, much of it dating back from quite a long time. Still, Brunet had not given up on reconciling the two groups.

“General Grot-Rowecki, I have some good news to pass on…” Brunet then took a few minutes to tell the Pole about Operation MERCY and about the impending arrival of Polish survivors from German camps. Grot-Rowecki was quiet for a few seconds, apparently stunned by the news.

“And you have been pulling all this off without a single casualty to your forces?”

“Up to now, yes, General. I am crossing my fingers, though: war can never be without risks. The reason I called is that many of the survivors who will be brought to Warsaw tonight will be catholic Poles who will need help and assistance in order to be brought back to health. While the Jews of the Ghetto have already accepted to assist the Jewish survivors, I will need someone from your side with enough resources in terms of transportation, shelter and medical care to assist the Catholic survivors. A ship with the first shipment of survivors should arrive in about an hour in Muranowski Square, at the northeast edge of the Ghetto. We will have some reserves of food which we will distribute to the survivors on arrival. One of my concerns is that some people without scruples or conscience could attempt to rob those sick and weak people of their donated food.”

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“Do not worry about that anymore, Mister Brunet: I will make sure that the people who will greet these survivors are incorruptible ones. From which camps will these survivors come?”

“The catholic Poles will come mainly from Auschwitz-Birkenau, Lublin and Ravensbrück, while the Jews will come mostly from Majdanek, Chelmno, Sobibor, Treblinka, Belzec, Auschwitz-Birkenau and Dachau. Thank you for your cooperation, General. May I hope to see you tonight at Muranowski Square?”

“You think that I’m going to miss seeing the landing of one of your spaceships? Of course I will be there.”

The Pole’s tone then changed, as if he was afraid to be overheard.

“Uh, if we are going to meet tonight, could we then take some time to discuss the situation concerning the Soviets?”

“General, I believe that I already know what you are going to ask. I can tell you two things right now: first, the Soviets will not be permitted to set foot again in Poland, especially when considering what they did at Katyn; and, second, Stalin will not keep his head on his shoulders for very long. That comes from Nancy Laplante, who has a score to settle with Stalin.”

Brunet could nearly hear Grot-Rowecki gloat at the end of the telephone now.

“My friend, you have just truly made my day. See you in one hour!” Brunet put the receiver down and, leaving the small lounge where the telephone stood on a corner table, returned into the room housing his command post proper. His satisfied smile faded at the sight of Mona Zirel’s concerned look.

“What’s wrong, Mona?”

“We just had our first combat casualty: Heinrik Braun was seriously wounded in Birkenau and is now onboard the KRONOS for medical treatment.”

“How did it happen?” asked Fernand gravely. Mona paused for a moment, apparently affected seriously by Klaus’ misfortune.

“Klaus was doing house-clearing in the prison block of Birkenau, where the restricted space precluded the use of his electro-magnetic shield, when a hidden German threw a grenade at him. He rolled partly out of the way but still got multiple shrapnel wounds to his legs. I was told that he should recover fully within a week with the help of advanced care. Of course, Nancy will go heal him as soon as she is finished with her own target list.”

“Did someone get that German?”

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“Oh yes! Twenty robots reduced the prison block to rubble once Tom was safely pulled out of there. On a different subject now, Fernand, the BABYLON is due to arrive in fifteen minutes to unload some extra food supplies for the Ghetto and the camp survivors. Farah also scrapped the bottom of the drawers and is sending us a small group which will help administratively process the survivors. They will also be on the BABYLON.”

“Hell, we have been scrapping the bottom of the drawers from the start, Mona. I still can’t believe all that we accomplished with so few people. Anyway, I suppose that I better go to Muranowski Square now. I will take Natia with me.” Going down the stairs to the next floor, where their small medical team was installed, Fernand found Natia Mindicor combating the boredom of her night shift by watching the recording of some 34th century musical show on a holographic viewer. The young giant woman looked questioningly at him.

“What’s up, Fernand?”

“The BABYLON is due in soon to bring extra food supplies and an administrative support team from Northolt. The HERMES will follow in about fifty minutes with a first load of Polish survivors from the German concentration camps. You and I will have a busy night.”

Natia immediately stopped the musical recording and got up to put on her helmet and body armor. She then followed Fernand downstairs to the covered courtyard passage, where they took place in one of their three time scooters. With the combat robots on guard there opening the gate doors for them, they soon flew off towards Muranowski Square, arriving there a minute later. Fernand landed his small machine beside a large modular shelter set up near a row of cargo containers lined up along the perimeter wall of the Ghetto. Those containers were used to store the food supplies sent from Northolt and Fernand expected that the BABYLON would drop off quite a few more of them. He had to recognize that Boran Kern was doing an exemplary job of acquiring foodstuff by the hundreds of tons every day. That steady supply of extra food was doing a huge difference these days for the people of the Ghetto, who were now able to slowly recover from months of starvation. Kern had even been able to go back to 3386 ‘A’ at least once, to buy there much needed advanced medical supplies and to top up their reserves of isotopic fuel for their ships. As he had said himself candidly to Fernand yesterday, who in the Global Council would refuse to sell humanitarian supplies to someone who was both armed and ready to pay cash with pure gold? Besides, public opinion in the Global

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Council had started to shift radically in favor of the Time Patrol, with the existing High Council looking increasingly about to be voted out of office via a soon-to-be-held popular referendum.

Going to the shelter, which was guarded like the containers by a squad of combat robots, Fernand and Natia switched on the portable workstation inside and the series of powerful light beacons which ringed the square to facilitate landings. It didn’t take long before people started appearing at the windows and balconies of the buildings surrounding the square: even at night, a ship’s landing always attracted a number of fascinated onlookers, especially children. Fernand didn’t mind that, as long as a crowd didn’t start a stampede in the middle of the landing area. This coming landing was probably going to cause some sensation: apart from being bigger and much slicker-looking than the HERMES or the light shuttlecraft which had landed here up to now, the BABYLON bore a name that had a powerful resonance in the history of the Jewish people, Babylon being where the population of ancient Jerusalem had been deported to in the sixth century B.C.E. after the destruction of their city and of its sacred temple.

Being probably aware of that historical fact, Amelia Earhart piloted the BABYLON to a smooth landing five minutes later with all the ship’s navigational lights on. Fernand, watching from the periphery of the landing zone, thought about the irony that Amelia had actually been a Babylonian woman in one of her past incarnations. The big rear access ramp lowered open soon after landing, letting out first a group of nine people, all carrying a kit bag and with six of them each carrying as well a portable workstation. Fernand and Natia met the group at the foot of the access ramp and were not a little surprised by its composition. Jan Bella actually led the group, followed by Dina Mishtar, Lynda Crawford, Indira Saduranidrasekar, Misha Godunov, Gunther Braunig and Miriam of Magdala. At the end of the line were Baran Mishtar and Carolyn Anderson, both thirteen years-old and wearing proudly their uniforms of cadets of the Time Patrol. Fernand was grinning as he shook hands with Jan Bella.

“I have to say that I wasn’t expecting top-flight scientists, a mother and a couple of cadets for this job, Doctor Bella. I have to warn you that the living conditions here are quite Spartan.”

“That’s alright with me.” replied jovially the Chief Historian of the Time Patrol. “It will give me a chance to see firsthand another historical event. By the way, Miss Lori

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Kano is also with us. She will come down from the bridge in a few minutes, when she will be finished recording the ongoing operations in Auschwitz-Birkenau. But let’s get out of the way now, before the robotic forklifts trample us with their loads.” As they moved off to one side of the access ramp, Fernand approached Miriam of Magdala and discretely spoke to her.

“Why did you come here, Miriam? You should have stayed at our secret base to care for your infant son.”

The young Galilean woman, dressed in a traditional first century Jewish robe, looked gravely at him.

“How could I stay in our base and not help when my people are suffering so much here? Besides, Margaret MacDonald is taking good care of David and of little Steve Crawford.”

“As you wish, Miriam. I will show you and the others your accommodations once we have received the camp survivors. In the meantime, you can assist Natia with the distribution of the food supplies.”

“That will be most satisfactory for me, Fernand.”

They then moved further away, as the first heavy robotic forklift went down the ramp with a fifty-foot container in its grip. Going to the landing area’s reception shelter, Fernand then held a quick meeting with Jan Bella and Natia Mindicor. Jan first handed a data chip to Natia, who was the official supply officer for the Warsaw outpost.

“Here is the electronic manifest of the content of the eighteen containers of supplies you will receive now.”

“Eighteen containers? Wow! Mister Kern really worked his butt off on this one.”

“Actually, those containers were loaded directly in New Lake City, Natia: those supplies are a humanitarian donation from the Global Council. It seems that Tomi Kern, Boran’s wife, is playing all the right political tunes there. We were promised more supplies in the near future. The people in New Lake City were careful in their choice of foodstuff, so you won’t end up with the embarrassment of giving away pork products to starving Jewish camp survivors. One of the containers is full of wool blankets, while another one contains medical supplies and baby food. Also, you have two refrigerated containers for dairy and meat products. Doctor Keiko Miramoto has already gone through the manifest and has made a suggested list of items for individual food parcels. A pallet which will soon be unloaded last has boxes full of heavy-duty plastic bags of various sizes, which you will be able to use to make the individual parcels.”

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“Then, I better get busy. Can I use some people of your group to help me prepare the parcels?”

“Sure! We are here to help, after all. Take Miriam, Baran and Carolyn.” As Natia walked away, Jan turned to face Fernand.

“Since you head the operation in Warsaw, I might as well give you some extra information. If you follow the suggested parcel list made by Doctor Miramoto, you should have enough supplies to feed well over 550,000 persons for a day. When I mean well, I mean as per Global Council standards.”

“Which are positively luxurious by local standards. We will make a lot of happy people today.”

“That is the plan, Fernand. On another matter, Farah Tolkonen is getting worried about the psychological impact of Operation MERCY on our members, especially on the field agents doing the actual camp cleanup work. They have been seeing unspeakable horrors for hours now and some are starting to show signs of mental distress. Frankly, I can’t blame them one bit: I personally could not have stomached even a bit of what they had to go through up to now, and they still have a lot of work ahead of them. That was one of the reasons why Farah allowed Lynda Crawford to come here, so that Jack can have the support of his wife when he returns here from his mission.”

“That will be very appreciated, Jan.” said somberly Fernand. “In all honesty, I don’t think that I will be the same man after this. I never thought that some people could be capable of the level of cruelty I have witnessed here against the Jews of the Ghetto. How are our German field agents reacting to these horrors?” Jan gave him a nearly despondent look at that question.

“Fernand, you know as well as me how good and decent our German agents are. Seeing the pain and shame they feel towards the Nazi atrocities is nearly painful to me. Some, like Otto Skorzeny and Hanna Reitsch, are now going through a deep identity crisis and will need some time to psychologically recover from this ordeal. Otto in particular is concerning Farah: he is now a man full of rage and hatred. There is also another serious case for concern: Nancy.”

“How so?” asked Fernand, frankly surprised. “Nancy is mentally about the strongest person I have ever known.”

“But she is also a telepath. What the others only see, she can also feel in her head. Can you imagine what it is like to hear the mental screams for help of tens of thousands of men, women and children. Farah is afraid that Nancy could be dodged by

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nightmares for a long time after this operation. Our field agents will definitely need a good period of rest and rehabilitation once this is over.”

As both stood silent, reflecting on this, Lori Kano showed up in the tent. Dressed in a gray Time Patrol uniform and wearing body armor, she had her GNN head-mounted camera and microphone unit fixed to her Time Patrol helmet. Fernand couldn’t help notice how the normally jovial reporter now looked tired and nearly depressed. She was obviously as much affected by the latest events as the members of the Time Patrol were. She however did manage a polite smile to Fernand.

“Hello, Mister Brunet. How are things going in Warsaw?”

“Much better now than a few days ago, Miss Kano. Did you cover our operations at one of the German camps?”

Any pretense at smiling then faded from her smooth face.

“Yes, I did. I spent one hour in Ravensbrück, which was probably the longest hour of my life. I don’t know if I will release my footage from that camp to GNN: some of the scenes would be simply unbearable to Global Council viewers.”

“Then, reserve that footage for the members of the High Council, so they can see the kind of criminals we in the Time Patrol are. I bet that some of these assholes will object to us taking justice into our hands.”

“You would probably win your bet, mister. Are we expecting some of the local community leaders here tonight?”

“We are expecting both Jewish and Polish representatives soon. Ah, talking of the devil, here is Mister Emanuel Ringelblum, one of the leaders of the Ghetto community, along with Rabbi Shimon Huberband.”

The two Polish Jews hesitated at the sight of Jan Bella and Lori Kano, with Huberband looking questioningly at Fernand.

“I hope that we are not interrupting some sort of meeting, Mister Brunet?” He asked in Yiddish. Fernand shook his head.

“Not at all, Rabbi. Does your friend speak English, French or German? I am afraid that my two friends here do not speak either Yiddish or Polish.”

“I do speak a fair French, Mister Brunet.” answered Emanuel Ringelblum, a man in his early forties with a clean-shaven face. “May I say that your spaceship is quite impressive? It also has an interesting choice of name, especially for a historian like me.”

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“You are a historian?” said Jan Bella, his face lighting up while he presented one hand. “Then we will have to have some serious conversation after this. I am Jan Bella, Chief Historian of the Time Patrol.”

A spark of interest appeared in Ringelblum’s eyes.

“A fellow historian, from the future? I will gladly spend a few evenings talking with you. First, though, we have to discuss how to welcome our unfortunate

compatriots.”

“You are right, Mister Ringelblum. May I present you Miss Lori Kano, reporter at the Global News Network, who came from the year 3386 to cover the events of this war?”

Both Jews looked up with admiration at the beautiful giant, with Ringelblum shaking hands with her.

“A reporter from the future? We will…”

An angry exchange of words in Polish just outside the tent then cut him off, making Fernand Brunet run outside. What he found was Zivia Lubetkin and Mordecai

Anielewicz, armed with rifles pointed at three men, one of which was General Grot-Rowecki, of the Polish Home Army.

“EVERYONE WILL CALM DOWN, NOW! Zivia, Mordecai, lower your rifles immediately before I stun you both.”

The two Jewish fighters, still looking angrily at the Poles, lowered their weapons after a short hesitation. To play it safe, Fernand interposed himself, staring down severely at Zivia.

“I invited General Grot-Rowecki to come here. Why did you threaten him?”

“Because he has no business here.” replied Zivia, clearly unrepentant. “The Home Army never did a thing for us. Yet, they show up the minute we have something they can steal.”

“As I said, they are here on my invitation. Many of the survivors who will be returned here from Nazi camps are catholic Poles and I asked General Grot-Rowecki for assistance into taking charge and caring for those survivors. Besides, all of Warsaw is open to all of the Poles now, Catholics and Jews alike. If the General wishes to visit the Ghetto, then he is entirely in his right to do so.”

“That’s fine in theory, Mister Brunet,” replied Zivia, “but they don’t put it in practice themselves. Nearly all of our people who tried to return to the apartments or

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houses they owned before being forced by the Germans to move to the Ghetto were turned back by the Poles who now occupy them.”

Fernand, not liking this piece of news one bit, looked at Grot-Rowecki questioningly.

“Would you know something about this, General?”

The Polish general sighed in exasperation before answering him.

“It is true that many Poles refused to give back apartments and houses to Jews who previously lived there, but those Poles paid to live there. There is still a severe shortage of accommodations in Warsaw and there was no sense in leaving thousands of flats empty. So, our people applied to the municipal authorities to occupy them and paid a substantial rent or even bought them outright in order to live in them. Now, they are asked to vacate them without any compensation and without alternate accommodations being available. Can you blame them for refusing to move out? Besides, many of the houses of the Ghetto belonged to catholic Poles before the Germans started cramming the Jews in here. When will those Poles get their houses back?”

“You think that this was our choice?” Cut in Mordecai Anielewicz. “We…”

“Mordecai, wait your turn!” said firmly Fernand, who then looked again at Grot-Rowecki. “General, to whom did those catholic Poles pay their rents or gave their money to buy houses?”

“To the municipal authorities of course, since the Germans seized those flats and houses when they evicted the Jews from them. But the Germans fled with the money and the municipal authorities are now left with their hands empty.”

“I see! What if the catholic Poles living in ex-Jewish houses were to be compensated financially? Couldn’t they then return to their previous residences?” Grot-Rowecki hesitated for a moment, as he thought about what he knew of the accommodations situation in Warsaw.

“I suppose that some would, but many houses in Warsaw were destroyed by the Germans and there is still an overall deficit of accommodations. Besides, where would the Jews find the money to buy back their houses? They have barely anything left in their possession right now, save for the clothes on their backs.”

“The Time Patrol might help in this matter.” said calmly Fernand. “We do have access to important gold reserves. If I am not mistaken, General, many of the Poles who moved to Warsaw since the start of the German occupation did so because the Germans forced them to come work in their armament industries, correct?”

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“That is true, Mister Brunet. In those cases, I could push for them to return to their original villages and towns, once they are financially compensated and once their original homes are found to be still in living conditions.”

“Then, let’s start with that. It will be a slow process but it will be better than the present chaos.”

Emanuel Ringelblum, who had been listening to the exchange like the others in the tent, then approached Fernand and touched his shoulder.

“Mister Brunet, could I have a private word with you for a second?”

“Uh, sure!” replied Fernand before looking at Zivia and Mordecai. “Try to stay polite while I speak with Mister Ringelblum, okay?”

“Okay!” said reluctantly Zivia. Fernand then followed Ringelblum to the corner of the nearest container, well out of earshot of the others.

“What is it, Mister Ringelblum?”

“First, I wanted to thank you for your generous offer to help financially my people to gain back their houses. The war has however caused a lot of frictions between Jews and Catholics in Poland, frictions which already existed to a significant degree before the war. Many of our people would actually prefer to emigrate to Palestine if given a chance to do so. Do you think that your Time Patrol could help them in this after the war?” Fernand was silent for a while, his face somber. He then answered slowly in a grave voice.

“Mister Ringelblum, the subject of Palestine is fraught with long-term political consequences of a gravity you could not know about. Since we come from the future, we have seen what an uncontrolled Jewish immigration to Palestine will cause: basically, over seventy years of wars and suffering in the Middle East. Nancy Laplante happens to be an expert on the subject and I would not dare make any promises about this before I could speak with her and get her opinion. Then, she would still need to reach an agreement with both the British and the Emir of Jordan, who share control of Palestine, before anything could be done. I however promise you that your request will be passed on to her as soon as the present crisis is over with.”

“Then please impress on her that this is no trivial matter for us. Right now, what my people need desperately as much as food is hope, hope for a better life in a land of their own.”

Fernand swallowed hard and stared into Ringelblum’s eyes.

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“Mister, you won’t find a person more concerned about the fate of the Jewish people than Nancy Laplante. I suppose that you heard about us in the Time Patrol being able to remember our past incarnations?”

“I heard about it. A truly intriguing concept but one I fail to see the relevance of here.”

“Oh, it is very relevant to this problem, I assure you. In one of her past lives, Nancy Laplante’s spirit was that of Sarai of Ur, wife of the Patriarch Abraham. She also lived through three more lives as a woman in Palestine, including one as a Jew.” Ringelblum was speechless for a moment, deeply shaken by Brunet’s revelations.

“Laplante, the wife of Abraham? Then, she is the matriarch of all the Jews.”

“Put simply, yes! As for giving hope to your community, I will suggest something to Nancy. Now, shall we take care of more immediate concerns?”

“By all means, Mister Brunet. Sarai of Ur… The others won’t believe this.”

By the time all the containers and pallets had been taken out of the BABYLON twenty minutes later, over a thousand Jewish residents of the Ghetto had arrived and stood along the periphery of the square. Over twenty trucks had also arrived from other parts of Warsaw, all commandeered by the Polish Home Army. Fernand Brunet nodded in approval when he saw who General Grot-Rowecki had selected to help the incoming catholic Polish survivors: over sixty priests and nuns escorted by armed Polish fighters had arrived with the trucks. As soon as the BABYLON cautiously lifted off and left, the heavy cargo shuttle HERMES landed in its place, its rear cargo ramp lowering nearly immediately upon landing: the crew was on a tight schedule, with many more survivors to be transported to safety. Fernand Brunet, followed by Rabbi Huberband and a Polish Home Army officer, immediately met the occupants of the cargo hold at the foot of the access ramp and shouted in Polish.

“PLEASE LISTEN TO ME! THE JEWISH EX-INMATES WILL COME OUT IN A LINE AND WILL FOLLOW RABBI HUBERBAND TO MY LEFT. THE CATHOLIC POLES WILL FOLLOW CAPTAIN TZERNICKI TO MY RIGHT.” With a number of Jews and Poles to help guide the weak survivors towards the registration and food distribution points, the process of handling the 632 ex-camp inmates started in earnest. The HERMES lifted off as soon as its cargo hold was emptied of its occupants and left to pick up more survivors. It came back with 648 more survivors from Auschwitz-Birkenau half an hour later, as some of the people from the

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first load were still being processed. By then, dozens of Polish nuns and of Jewish women had volunteered to help the overwhelmed Time Patrol team preparing the individual food parcels given to each of the camp survivors. Those food parcels made a huge difference in term of morale boosters for the emaciated ex-inmates, who held tightly to their precious bags, which held more food than what they got in a month in the German camps. Lori Kano, who was filming and commenting the whole process, broke in hysterical tears at one point, when a group of over a hundred very young, nearly skeletal orphaned children got off the HERMES. Miriam of Magdala, herself in tears, had to escort Lori inside the landing point control shelter to help console her. After fifteen minutes, Fernand had to escort the deeply disturbed reporter to the Gesia Street Time Patrol command post, so that Farah Tolkonen ‘B’ could treat and sedate her.

The hours went by quickly, with the volunteers and community representatives working non-stop through the night and the early morning with the members of the Time Patrol to handle the apparently endless flow of camp survivors. By noon, after processing over 12,000 men, women and children and with more still coming, Fernand Brunet decided in common accord with General Grot-Rowecki and the Jewish community representatives to call in more help to replace the exhausted volunteers. They then grimly went on with the task at hand. One hour later, the news came that young Martha Pfalz had been killed while helping to liberate the camp in Theresienstadt.

22:35 (Honolulu time)

Tuesday, May 26, 1942 ‘B’

Parking apron, Hickam Field, Hawaii

Bill Conway, escorting an excited young Navy Intelligence officer, was about to climb up the rear access ramp of the scoutship BRITANNIA when Doug Wilson and Elizabeth Windsor blocked his path, looking severely at him.

“Where is Ensign Kawena?” asked abruptly Doug Wilson to Conway. The American, even though he didn’t like the role assigned to him by his superiors, shrugged and gave his prepared lie.

“She fell sick and had to be replaced. This is Lieutenant Smithers, from the J.I.C. He was designated to take Jenny’s place and speaks a fair Japanese.”

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“Mister Smithers is not coming on board this scoutship and neither are you, Mister Conway. The mission for tonight has been scrubbed off.”

“But, why?”

That was when Doug Wilson let out his anger, snapping at Conway.

“Why? Because of your treachery and of your superiors’ stupidity, that’s why! When Jenny left us this morning, we attached a spy probe to her, suspecting some possible foul play concerning her. That probe reported in half an hour ago. We saw her arrest by your MPs and the way she was treated in jail since. DID YOU KNOW THAT YOUR FUCKING MPs SLAPPED HER AROUND AND USED MEN TO STRIP-SEARCH HER? AND ALL THIS SIMPLY BECAUSE SHE TOLD US ABOUT HER MOTHER. WHAT GENIUS ON YOUR SIDE DECIDED THAT THIS CONSTITUTED GROUND FOR ATTEMPTED DESERTION?”

“But…I…I had nothing to do with all that.”

“YOU REPORTED HER CONVERSATION WITH US, WHICH WAS ENOUGH TO START THIS WHOLE DISGRACE. YOU AND YOUR FRIEND WILL RETURN TO THE J.I.C. AND TELL YOUR COMMANDER THAT WE WANT JENNY KAWENA HERE WITHIN ONE HOUR.”

“Now, who the hell do you think you are?” protested Lieutenant Smithers. “Ensign Kawena belongs to the United States Navy, not to your Time Patrol.” Conway thought for a moment that Wilson was going to strike Smithers.

“If you really considered her part of your navy, then you would not have treated her like a pariah from the start. Right now, our agents have just spent half a day freeing inmates from German concentration camps all over Europe and are one pissed off bunch, believe me. Nancy Laplante nearly flew off her hinge when she was told by us ten minutes ago about your commander’s decision to send Jenny Kawena to the Manzanar detention camp for so-called disloyalty, all that without any hearing or legal assistance provided to Jenny. If Jenny is not here in one hour, we will get her ourselves by any means necessary. And don’t try to take her away from Pearl Harbor: we know exactly where she is at any time.”

Smithers was about to protest further but was stopped by Conway, who held his arm.

“Come with me, Lieutenant: there is no point in arguing further here. Let’s go back to the J.I.C..”

Doug and Elizabeth watched the two Americans get back in the jeep they had come in and speed away. Doug then activated his helmet radio.

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“Chief Engineer Turok, this is Doug Wilson, over.”

“Turok here, over.”

“Chief, be advised that the Americans may become hostile to us. Did you get Nancy’s directive to pack up your equipment and supplies for pickup by the GILGAMESH?”

“I spoke with her a few minutes ago, Doug. Since all our supplies are either on pallets or in containers, we will be able to clear out of here in less than half an hour once the GILGAMESH shows up, which should be soon.”

“Excellent! Proceed on your own once the GILGAMESH shows up. Over and out to you. Lakshmi, this is Doug, over!”

“Lakshmi here! Go ahead!”

“Lakshmi, I am going to pay a short visit to Admiral Nimitz to notify him of our incoming departure. Pack up your workstation and return to Hickam Field now.”

“Understood! Be advised that the Americans around me are starting to act suspiciously.”

“Be ready to defend yourself: I’m sending you four robots now.” replied Doug urgently. “Units 245 to 248, report immediately to Cadet Saduranidrasekar to provide her close protection. You are authorized to use only your stun guns. Acknowledge!” The four robots answered him immediately, by order of unit number. Doug then ordered all the other combat robots present in Hickam Field to establish a protective cordon around the hangar and parking apron used by the Time Patrol. Next, he turned to face his copilot.

“Elizabeth, I want you to monitor directly what is happening to Jenny. If she is about to be either brutalized or threatened, then you can bring her here via a transit probe. If she is moved out of her cell, advise me immediately.”

“Got it!”

Doug shook his head in disbelief as Elizabeth returned inside the cargo hold. He would never have thought until today that racism could create so much stupidity and meanness. Now he knew. His next move was to go to the time scooter parked inside the cargo hold. Sitting at the controls, he flew out of the scoutship and headed at low altitude towards the Pacific Fleet headquarters, arriving there in a mere four minutes. Young Lakshmi Saduranidrasekar was loading her equipment in her own time scooter, closely surrounded by four combat robots, when Doug landed his scooter near hers. The young Indian gave him a warning look.

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“Be careful, Doug: the Americans are quite nervous right now.”

“I will be careful, Lakshmi. I don’t think that they are stupid to the point of attacking us overtly, though. Admiral Nimitz is still a decent man, after all.” Doug then closed the canopy of his scooter and locked it before climbing the steps of the headquarters’ main entrance. Two armed Marines guarding the doors blocked his path, with the corporal in charge addressing him politely.

“Excuse me, sir, but we have orders to escort at all times the members of the Time Patrol visiting the headquarters. What is the goal of your visit, sir?”

“I am here to bring a verbal message to Admiral Nimitz, Corporal. May I?”

“One moment, sir. I will call up an escort for you.”

The corporal then went inside briefly, probably to make a telephone call. He was back less than two minutes later with an armed navy junior officer who saluted Doug.

“If you may follow me, sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

The young officer didn’t say another word during the walk to the admiral’s office. The navy and army personnel they met all looked at Doug with newfound suspicion. Even the admiral’s secretary looked crossly at him before letting him in Nimitz’ office. Admiral Nimitz was waiting in front of the bay windows of his office, looking outside. Doug saluted him when he turned around. Nimitz returned the salute, then looked critically at him.

“Mister Wilson, I was just informed about the regrettable incident concerning Ensign Kawena. Isn’t the Time Patrol overreacting to this?”

“No, sir! I would say that we actually think the exact contrary, Admiral. Ensign Kawena, despite having constantly been treated shabbily in the past, was still a loyal officer of your country’s navy. Yet, for telling us about her mother’s internment in a camp, she was summarily arrested, brutalized and strip-searched by male MPs, then thrown in jail. Now, we learn that she is to be deported to Manzanar Camp, where her mother is being held.”

“Wait! Who said anything about her being brutalized and strip-searched?” said Nimitz, apparently surprised.

“Princess Elizabeth says so, Admiral. She watched everything via a spy probe we attached to Ensign Kawena. We could provide you with copies of the recordings in question, Admiral.”

Nimitz repressed a flash of anger, then stared hard at Doug.

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“I will enquire about this later. Why are you so interested in that girl, Mister Wilson?”

“It is simply a question of principles, Admiral. Our whole organization went into exile in time in order to rescue one of its members. Ensign Kawena stated an interest to join us after the war, apart from proving to be a very brave and capable young officer. We will not let her suffer a grave injustice just because she wanted to join our organization. There is also the matter of racism in the United States and especially the existence of internment camps for American citizens of Japanese ancestry, which is a very big sore point with us, Admiral. Our agents have been spending the last twelve hours liberating hundreds of thousands of inmates held in horrible conditions in German concentration camps across Europe. Our agents are now tired, traumatized and very angry. Nancy Laplante herself is considering your own internment camps as little better than the German ones, especially when it concerns a country supposedly as democratic as the United States.”

That visibly angered Nimitz, who slammed his fist on his desk.

“We are a democratic country, Mister Wilson! How dare you doubt that?” Doug Wilson shook his head slowly, his expression hard.

“No, it isn’t, Admiral, at least not for African-Americans, Japanese-Americans, native Indian-Americans and many other racial groups who are refused the right to vote or, in the case of the Japanese-Americans not born in the United States, who don’t even have the right to become legally American citizens. It is presently a democracy for white-skinned Caucasian people only. It will not be always so however, as Mister Stone mentioned to you a few days ago. I am thus here to inform you that we will soon leave Hawaii with all our equipment and personnel, to seek outside of the United States a more acceptable base of operation for our forces. Further to that, I inform you that we intend to bring Ensign Kawena with us, with or without your consent. We only wish to give her a chance at a better life.”

“Mister Wilson, I find your moralizing insulting.”

“And we find your country’s racism and bigotry disgusting and repelling, Admiral. This is coming straight from Nancy Laplante and from Doctor Tolkonen and we will not back down from our position. After all, you need us a lot more than we need you.”

“That may not be true anymore, mister. You already cleaned the Pacific of the Japanese Navy and Air Force: we can now continue on our own and retake the Pacific with little trouble.”

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“That, Admiral, would prove to be a costly assumption. You may find that the Japanese island garrisons, while isolated and cut off, are tough nuts to crack. Also, in line with the Time Patrol strategy of terminating this war with the utmost care in avoiding civilian casualties, be advised that we will not allow you to conduct any air or sea bombardment against Japanese population centers. Any force attempting such

bombardments will be neutralized by us.”

“You would shoot on us to defend the Japanese?” asked Nimitz, now livid.

“Correction, Admiral: we will shoot on you if you attack unarmed civilians. You now have 41 minutes to have Ensign Kawena sent back to us at Hickam Field. After that, Nancy Laplante in person will get her out of jail, manu military. Have a good day, Admiral.”

Doug saluted and turned around, walking calmly out of Nimitz’ office. The old admiral watched him for a moment, then grabbed his telephone and called the Joint Intelligence Center.

“Brigadier Twitty, this is Admiral Nimitz. I just had a visit from the Time Patrol. Did your male MPs rough up and strip-search Ensign Kawena... THEY DID?! ON WHOSE ORDERS?... I want those MPs to be relieved of duty at once! They will face disciplinary charges for their actions. You will also return right away Ensign Kawena to the ships of the Time Patrol! As for you, you are relieved of command! Because of your meanness and stupidity, the United States has just lost the support of an irreplaceable ally.”

23:24 (Hawaii Time)

Scoutship BRITANNIA

Parking apron, Hickam Field, Pearl Harbor

Jenny Kawena was still deeply disturbed and shocked by her experience at the hands of MPs as a jeep delivered her at the foot of the aft ramp of the scoutship BRITANNIA. Even after all the years of discrimination she had endured in the Navy while she persisted in giving her best in the service of her country, having been strip-searched and her body invaded by male military policemen who had also struck her a number of times had been a most humiliating and distressing experience. At least, the two marines now escorting her had been polite with her, if not exactly overly friendly. Jenny thanked them after stepping out of the jeep, then nearly ran up the access ramp

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of the scoutship, to be met at the top of it by Elizabeth Windsor and Doug Wilson. In tears, Jenny exchanged frantic hugs and kisses on the cheeks with both British.

‘’Thank you! Thank you! You saved me from the most humiliating and scary experience of my life.’’

‘’We couldn’t let that injustice go on, Jenny.’’ replied Doug Wilson. ‘’Besides, we all love you and were not ready to see you being interned in a relocation camp. Know that I visited Admiral Nimitz and blasted him about the scandalous treatment meted to you. We are now going to pull out entirely from Hawaii and will return to England, to join the rest of our fleet there. You will come with us...as a new member of the Time Patrol. Also, you will not come with us alone.’’

Doug then turned sideways to point at two persons who were now approaching from the back of the cargo hold. Jenny’s eyes grew wide on seeing the big and powerful Polynesian man and the graceful Japanese woman approaching at a near run.

‘’MOM! DAD!’’

The three of them ran into each other’s arms, exchanging kisses and hugs for long seconds before Jenny, tears in her eyes, looked at her mother.

‘’When did you get out of the Manzanar Camp, mother?’’

‘’Twenty minutes ago, Jenny. Your friends from the Time Patrol plucked me out of my barrack in Manzanar by using what they call a ‘transit probe’. As for your father, Miss Windsor picked him up at our house with a small flying vehicle and also picked up our most important personal possessions and souvenirs before transporting him to this ship. Miss Windsor told us that we are now citizens of the Time Patrol...like you’’

‘’Oooh, I am so happy now!’’ cried Jenny while hugging both of her parents. Doug Wilson waited patiently for them to separate before speaking.

‘’We are now going to fly out of Hickam Field and will return to Northolt, in England, where you will be able to meet with Nancy Laplante. Unfortunately, we still have a lot to do in order to put an end to this war and reestablish peace.’’

06:42 (London Time)

Wednesday, May 27, 1942 ‘B’

Infirmary of Tower ‘ALPHA’

R.A.F. Northolt, England

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Nancy’s first move after entering the infirmary of Tower ALPHA was to go to the medical bed occupied by Klaus Manheim, whose legs were covered with bandages. Gently pressing his right hand, she then kissed him on his forehead before speaking to him.

‘’Time to heal you, my brave and handsome Klaus.’’

Klaus in turn gave her a sober look.

‘’I will certainly be grateful for that, Nancy, but there are others here who are in more urgent need of your care than me.’’

Nancy nodded her head slowly while looking sadly at the group of six young women either lying in beds or sitting on chairs, most of whom had been reduced to little more than skin and bones. The one looking physically healthy was Lori Kano, whose eyes reflected the nightmare she had lived through in Warsaw and who was in a near-catatonic state. Outside of Tower ALPHA, in the refugee camp set up on the grassy expanse of R.A.F. Northolt, nearly 300,000 other tortured souls saved from Nazi barbarism and cruelty were now being cared for and fed. She was still reflecting sadly on the horrors of war when a powerful mental voice resonated inside her brain.

‘’YOU ARE NOW READY FOR THE SECOND PHASE OF YOUR EVOLUTION, NANCY. LET ME USE YOU AS MY CONDUIT IN ORDER TO HEAL THOSE UNFORTUNATE PEOPLE. JUST CLOSE YOUR EYES AND PICTURE IN YOUR MINDS THOSE YOU WANT TO SEE RETURNED TO FULL HEALTH.’’

Not taking the time to question The One about what precisely that second phase of her evolution implied, Nancy closed her eyes and, standing still, raised both of her hands and imaged in her head the pictures of those she had helped save during the night. The occupants of the infirmary then saw her whole body starting to shine from within, becoming quickly too bright to be looked at directly. Then, a silent, blinding burst of light exploded from within her, with the burst of light filling the infirmary and spreading out well beyond the walls of Tower ALPHA, while not damaging one bit its walls. That explosion of white light persisted for a few seconds before progressively fading away, leaving the occupants of the infirmary to look with awe at Nancy, who now appeared in her normal state. The five women rescued from Nazi concentration camps then belatedly realized that their bodies had been completely healed and that they were back at their original weight and muscle mass. Tatiana Korbut nearly screamed with joy when she saw that her body was now healthy.

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‘’By God: I am beautiful again! Even my tits are back to their original size and firmness.’’

As for Lori Kano, it was as if she had just awakened from a nightmare and looked around her and then at Nancy.

‘’What...what happened? The horrific visions filling my head are now gone.’’

‘’The One used me to heal all the poor souls who had been suffering because of the Nazis. Talking of Nazis, I will now go pass judgment on one of the worst one we captured.’’

Walking out of the infirmary and ignoring for the moment the questions thrown at her, Nancy went to a small storage room at the base of Tower ALPHA, which had been emptied and turned into a temporary cell. Telling the combat robot on guard duty to unlock the door of that room, Nancy stepped inside and stopped, eyeing with pure hatred the tall SS officer who was detained in the cell and who was sitting on a cot. That Nazi got slowly on his feet, clearly fearful of what would come next. Nancy then spoke to him in an icy voice.

‘’Rheinhard Heydrich, it is now time for you to pay for the countless crimes you committed and for all the cruelty you spread around you. You will not only die this morning, Heydrich: your soul will be destroyed as well and will never reincarnate again.’’

‘’Never reincarnate again? What is that nonsense?’’

‘’That ‘nonsense’, as you call it, is the judgment of The One. Now, die!’’ Nearly at once, intense pain was reflected on Heydrich’s face for a second. Then, his body burst in flames from the inside as he screamed in both horror and pain. The ashes from his incinerated body didn’t even stay, disappearing in an instant and leaving only a cloud of smoke. Nancy looked coldly at that cloud for a moment before speaking softly.

‘’Thank you for rendering justice and getting Humanity rid of that monster, Great One.’’

13:07 (Paris Time)

Thursday, May 28, 1942 ‘B’

Headquarters, German Military Governor of Paris Hotel Majestic, Paris, France

Field-Marshal Gerd Von Rundstedt, Commander In Chief of the Wehrmacht in Western Europe, greeted General Hugo Sperrle, Commander of the Luftwaffe in France

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and Belgium, and led him towards the big conference table where fourteen other senior officers and one man in civilian suit sat. Once Sperrle had taken a seat, Rundstedt went to stand at one end of the table and looked around at his subalterns.

“Gentlemen, I officially asked you to come to the headquarters of General Von Stulpnagel to discuss our strategy to oppose the Time Patrol. Actually, we are here mainly because there are no Gestapo or SS forces left inside Paris, thanks to the same Time Patrol, while there are still some Waffen-SS liaison officers at my headquarters. Yesterday evening, I received a clandestine visit from none other than Nancy Laplante, who served me with an ultimatum: we start withdrawing back to Germany by no later than noon this Saturday or our forces will be destroyed in an all-out assault by the Time Patrol. She also added the special condition that Paris and its surrounding area out to 25 kilometers be completely evacuated and devoid of German personnel by that same deadline. We thus have less than two days to take a decision and either withdraw or be ready to fight the Time Patrol. Frankly, the second option strikes me as most unrealistic. I need your opinion, gentlemen.”

“How could anyone hope to fight against the Time Patrol?” asked General Blaskowitz, the commander of Army Group ‘G’, stationed along the southern coast of France. “Their technological advantage is simply too great. They can appear and disappear at will and are invulnerable to our weapons. I say that we withdraw right now, in order to save our men from needless death.”

“I agree with General Blaskowitz.” said General Sperrle. “I have at most a dozen light aircraft or transports left to me now, even though the Time Patrol tactics of attacking at night has resulted in most of my aircrews being still alive. I may have a lot of people left on my roll calls but my air power has simply ceased to exist during the last week.” The next one to speak was General Erwin Rommel, Commander of Army Group ‘B’, which defended Northern France and Paris.

“Who is left in charge in Germany now? How would Berlin react to a withdrawal on our part, Herr FeldMarshal?”

“Chaos is nearly total in Germany now. Nobody of consequence is left in command and the few Nazi Party officials who are neither dead nor in the hands of the Time Patrol have gone into hiding. The SS and the Gestapo have been hit especially hard, with all the internment camps run by the SS taken and emptied by the Time Patrol yesterday.”

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“Herr FeldMarshal,” interrupted the man in civilian suit, “I will have to correct you on your choice of words. The internment camps you spoke about were in reality death camps where unspeakable atrocities were being committed by the SS. Abwehr agents were able to visit some of them once the Time Patrol left them empty. What they found, apart from the bodies of the SS guards, were trenches filled with thousands of dead men, women and children reduced to mere skeletons by starvation and ill treatments. I am actually surprised that Miss Laplante, after seeing such monstrosities, is still willing to let us go unmolested. However, if we do not withdraw, then I expect that we will get no more mercy from her. If any French hostages or prisoners are executed by German troops from now on, then again, our skins won’t be worth much. Those Time Patrol killing machines on tracks, once let loose, leave no Germans alive in their path. We should do the utmost not to give an excuse to Miss Laplante to release these machines into our midst.”

“Hmm, you may be right, Colonel Rudolph. What is the assessment of the Abwehr concerning the remaining strength of the SS security forces?”

“It is hard to give a solid assessment at this point, Herr FeldMarshal, but most of the SS leadership has been eliminated by the Time Patrol and their offices across Europe have been decimated. In particular, the SS forces and Gestapo officials controlling Warsaw were massacred three days ago and the Poles and Jews there now control the city. We however have a problem right here in France: The First SS Panzer Corps, which is resting and recuperating after our defeat in Norway at the hands of the British, could decide to stay and fight, and thus attract a Time Patrol attack on all of us.”

“Actually, Colonel, Miss Laplante told me that she would take care personally of the First SS Panzer Corps. They may be all dead by now as far as we know.” A shiver went through the meeting participants at those words. General Rommel then raised another hot subject.

“Herr FeldMarshal, what if our forces on the Eastern Front have received a similar ultimatum and decide to pull back? The Soviets will pursue them and may well use that chance to enter Germany.”

“Then the more reason for us to retreat back into Germany, where we will be able to defend our borders. We will however have to do that without our tanks and field artillery, as Laplante stated that we would have to leave them behind. She intends us to become a purely defensive force. We will be permitted to keep our anti-aircraft and anti-tank guns and our mortars but no other heavy weapons. We are also strictly forbidden

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to destroy any equipment or supplies left behind by us or to requisition supplies for our move. We break these rules and we will be attacked. That is the price to save the lives of our men.”

Rundstedt’s subalterns then broke into an animated exchange, unhappy at the idea of losing their most effective weapons. However, a consensus quickly grew that they really had no choice but to withdraw back to Germany. Rundstedt looked slowly around the table, then slapped his hand on top of it.

“Then it is decided! Return to your units at once and start withdrawing eastward as soon as possible. Do not wait for trains to become available: you know how unreliable the railway system has become lately. General Von Stulpnagel, as the military governor of Northern France, you will have to ensure that the area of Paris is vacated by our troops promptly and that the withdrawal is completed by noon Saturday. I frankly don’t care where your units will end up, as long as it is somewhere inside Germany. Probably the easiest solution will be to go back to our respective original garrisons in Germany. Just make sure that you stay in radio contact with me. You are dismissed, gentlemen.”

13:36 (Paris time)

Headquarters 1st SS Panzer Corps Evreux (45 miles west of Paris)

France

General Paul Hausser was awakened by the strong, acrid smell of something waived under his nose. His head pounding, he opened his eyes and took a few seconds to adjust his vision so that he could see clearly the young woman crouching beside him.

“You? What do you want? What happened?”

“What happened is that the area around your headquarters was blasted by salvoes from the stun canons of my cruiser, Obergruppenführer Hausser. All your men have been unconscious for the last half hour and will stay so for another half hour.”

“Then, why didn’t you just kill me and my men, Miss Laplante?”

“Because you are actually soldiers and not a bunch of sadists and monsters like the SS-Totenkopf bastards who ran the concentration camps or spread terror through the ghettos of Europe. Your men fought hard and well in Norway and I respect them for that.”

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“Then, what do you want, Miss Laplante?” asked Hausser, frankly puzzled, while trying to get up from the floor. His head still swam, so he had to be content with sitting on the carpet. Nancy looked at him with her intense green eyes, apparently impassive.

“What I want is for the units under your command to start withdrawing from France no later than noon this Saturday and to return to Germany. You will have to leave your tanks, your field artillery pieces and other heavy weapons behind but you will be allowed to keep your anti-tank guns, anti-aircraft weapons and your mortars, so you can form a defensive line inside German borders. The other German units in France, Belgium and the Netherlands have received the same ultimatum already. If you refuse to withdraw, then you will force me to unleash my combat robots, which will then massacre your men to the last.”

Hausser then remembered whom he had been with when he had been knocked unconscious and looked for him around but didn’t see him. Nancy’s face hardened.

“If you are looking for that Heydrich bastard, we already took him away. That man is a sadistic butcher, pure and simple, and will be judged for his crimes. His plans to reduce Paris to burning rubble as an act of revenge will also weigh against him. I must thank you for having questioned his orders then: that helped save your head.” The full bitterness of defeat then struck Hausser: his Führer was gone; German forces had bogged down everywhere; the Luftwaffe was as good as destroyed and Germany now had to deal with a nearly invulnerable enemy. The tank battalion he had sent yesterday to Drancy in reaction to the Time Patrol raid on the transit camp there had been literally cut to pieces in no time and its survivors sent fleeing in panic by the merciless combat machines used by the Time Patrol. His men had not even been able to come within sight of the transit camp before being massacred.

“What will happen to Germany after we withdraw?” asked Hausser in a dejected tone.

“Nothing, mostly. Germany will be allowed to defend its borders but will not be permitted to produce offensive military weapons again. Some reparations will have to be paid but I intend to avoid a repeat of the mistakes of the Versailles Treaty of 1918, whose harsh terms led eventually to this war. The ones responsible for this war are anyway either dead or in jail now. So, what do you decide to do, General?” Hausser stared into her eyes but saw only resolve.

“Do I really have any choice?”

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“Yes!” replied Nancy, her voice now harsh as she remembered the horrible scenes of death and suffering she had seen in German concentration camps. “You have a choice between living and dying. Hundreds of thousands of innocent people didn’t even have that choice. So, again, what is your choice, General?”

“My units will start withdrawing by tomorrow, miss.”

“Good! Remember this: if your troops kill any French hostage or prisoner, or any French property gets willfully destroyed, then our deal is off and I will unleash my robots. Some of my robots will anyway escort your columns to make sure that there are no incidents between your soldiers and the locals. Also, you can’t destroy or sabotage any of your equipment or supplies left behind, as they will be used as partial repayment for war reparations. This said, have a good day!”

She then disappeared in a flash of white light, leaving Hausser alone in his office. Getting up with difficulty, Hausser went to the nearest window and looked outside for signs of the Time Patrol. There were none, except for the fact that the seven Tiger tanks which had been parked in the courtyard of the requisitioned manor an hour ago were gone.

16:44 (Moscow Time)

Headquarters of the city’s military garrison

Leningrad, Soviet Union

Colonel Ivan Zorokin, head of the NKVD20 in Leningrad, couldn’t help look again outside through a window as he walked towards the office of Colonel-General Dimitri Chernikov, the commander of Leningrad’s garrison. The huge spaceship from the Time Patrol was now flying away after dropping off pallets loaded with hundreds of tons of foodstuff, mostly flour, as it had for the last four days. The morale inside the besieged city was now rising steadily, along with the popularity of the Time Patrol, even though none of the citizens or soldiers of Leningrad had seen yet a single living Time Patrol member. Zorokin read again the decrypted message from the NKVD headquarters in Moscow that he was bringing to show to Chernikov and shook his head in disgust. The order in it, which came from Beria, the chairman of the NKVD, was nothing short of monstrous. In turn, that order must have been dictated to Beria by Yosef Stalin himself,

20 NKVD: Soviet secret police. Predecessor of the KGB.

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which was made even more probable by the paranoid character of the order. In essence, Beria was ordering Zorokin to seize and destroy the foodstuff delivered by the Time Patrol, and to justify that by claiming that the foodstuff had been poisoned. The reason given for such an apparently mindless order was that the Time Patrol was not to be allowed to ‘subvert’ the people of Leningrad through deliveries of food. It also stated that the ‘bourgeois spirit’ of Leningrad had to be broken in order to ensure party domination over the citizens of the city. Zorokin understood too well the true motivations behind Beria’s directive: he and Stalin were probably afraid that the Time Patrol, through its altruism and generosity, would make Moscow’s rule look petty and unjust in comparison. Zorokin personally believed in a pure, hard communism in which harsh measures were often needed to weed out capitalists and other profiteers who lived on the back of the proletariat. The problem was that Stalin, Beria and their clique of apparatchiks were increasingly living on the back of the Soviet people and showed little interest in the welfare of the common citizens. Zorokin, who was no fool, had refrained before from publicly criticizing the Moscow leadership, lest he ended up with a bullet in the back of the head, but this last order was just too much for him.

The two soldiers standing guard at the door of General Chernikov came to attention when Zorokin approached them. They then let him in without question: they knew too well that the NKVD and not the Red Army was the real power in the Soviet Union. Chernikov’s Aide-De-Camp stood up from behind his desk and saluted as Zorokin walked past him while proffering a quick good day.

“Comrade General Chernikov is in his office, Comrade Colonel.”

“Thank you, Comrade Major. Make sure that nobody disturbs us until further notice.”

“Yes, Comrade Colonel!”

Entering Chernikov’s office, Zorokin saw the general studying his wall situation map while holding a document. Chernikov was young for his rank, being still in his forties, but was acknowledged to be a competent and tough officer. He turned around at the sound of the door opening and nodded his head in a polite but cautious welcome: he knew the extent of Zorokin’s power, which included the prerogative to arrest or execute him any time he wished if he had a good enough pretext to justify it. Zorokin was however a rarity in the Soviet Union: a pure communist who also happened to be honest and who genuinely believed in the primacy of the needs of the Soviet people as a whole. He was

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thus unlike the majority of NKVD officers or of Communist Party officials, who quoted Lenin on one hand and got fat through corruption and misappropriations on the other hand. Chernikov could live with Zorokin around his command, something he could not with the previous NKVD representative, who had thankfully been killed by a German shell two months ago. One example of Zorokin’s style of leadership was the fact that the NKVD troops in Leningrad now fought side by side with Red Army soldiers, instead of standing in their back, ready to shoot them if they faltered. As a result, the fighting spirit of the starving soldiers had improved markedly, something Chernikov was quite grateful for.

“Good afternoon, Comrade Zorokin. What can I do for you today?”

“Good afternoon, Comrade General. I actually need your counsel about

something.”

“My counsel?” said Chernikov, a bit surprised. Zorokin then handed him the message from Beria.

“Read this and you will understand.”

Chernikov quickly read the message, then turned deep red with anger and looked back at Zorokin.

“Destroy the food supplies delivered by the Time Patrol? Are they mad in Moscow? This food is the only thing stopping our citizens and soldiers from dying of starvation.”

“I realize that very well, Comrade General. That is why I came to see you. I simply can’t obey such a mindless, cruel order.”

“But you could be executed by Beria for failing to obey this order.” said Chernikov in a low, cautious tone.

“I know that too, Comrade General. I however believe that Comrades Beria and Stalin have just shown themselves to care nothing for the fate of the Soviet people and to be unworthy of leading it.”

Chernikov looked nervously around his office, as if to watch for hidden microphones. If Moscow heard about this conversation, they were both dead men.

“Then, what do you intend to do, Comrade Colonel?”

“I actually have a plan, Comrade General…”

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15:01 (Moscow Time)

Friday, May 29, 1942 ‘B’

Leningrad docks, Soviet Union

The Time Patrol ship showed up again in mid-afternoon, as it had done for the past four days. As soon as the first flying machine transporting a large metallic container loaded with foodstuff touched the concrete surface of the docks, where the previous deliveries had taken place, Ivan Zorokin ran to it. The machine, which looked like a giant spider, had a ladder running up along each of its giant legs, which were also used as grappling points for the container it had brought in. Zorokin grabbed the handles of one of the ladders and started climbing quickly towards the machine’s main body, where a sort of control cabin was visible at the front. As he was halfway up, an amplified voice speaking Russian boomed in his ears.

“CLIMB DOWN IMMEDIATELY OR YOU WILL BE FORCIBLY REMOVED! I SAY AGAIN, CLIMB DOWN IMMEDIATELY!”

Zorokin clenched his teeth but continued climbing: he knew the risks of his actions but the lives of hundreds of thousands of his people depended on the success of his plan. Thankfully, nobody shot him while he climbed up and he finally stepped on a narrow steel platform connected to the control cabin. He knew better than to pull out his pistol now, figuring that this would bring him only trouble. Instead, he walked to the large windows of the cabin and looked inside. What he saw was a giant of a bald man sitting at a complicated-looking control station. There was also a normal-sized woman with blond hair facing him with suspicion and pointing a pistol at him. Both were dressed in gray uniforms. Zorokin hurriedly waved to the woman while shouting.

“DON’T SHOOT! I WANT TO SPEAK TO NANCY LAPLANTE ABOUT A MOST URGENT MATTER.”

In response, the woman spoke in the microphone of her helmet, with her words coming out of an external speaker.

“Who are you and what do you want exactly?”

“I am Colonel Ivan Zorokin, of the NKVD. I have some vital news to pass on to your leader, Nancy Laplante.”

The woman’s face hardened at the mention of the NKVD.

“And why should I believe you? The NKVD is as bad as the Gestapo.”

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It was Zorokin’s turn to look offended. He however had to recognize that the woman was mostly correct.

“Look, I received yesterday an order from Moscow telling me to destroy the food supplies you are bringing to Leningrad and to pretext that they are poisoned by you. I refused to obey that order and want to discuss a plan with Nancy Laplante on how to react to this.”

The woman hesitated only slightly before going to a door near Zorokin and opening it, inviting him inside. She however kept her pistol pointed at him.

“Alright, lean against this wall and spread your hands and legs.” Zorokin obeyed and let the woman search him, which she did expertly after taking his STECHKIN pistol out of his belt holster. She then made him turn around to face her. Only then did Zorokin see the nametag on the woman’s right breast.

“Helena Groth? You’re a German?” nearly shouted the Soviet, shocked. The woman, a pretty blonde with blue eyes and a round face, smiled at his reaction.

“Yes, I was, like some other members of the Time Patrol, but I am no Nazi. We have members of many nationalities and from different centuries in the Time Patrol. Do you have that message from Moscow on you?”

“Of course I do.”

Zorokin took the folded sheet of paper out of his breast pocket and cautiously handed it to the woman. She read it quickly and frowned, then spoke briefly in an unknown language to the bald giant, who grabbed his flight controls and made his machine lift off. Groth stared at Zorokin as the machine flew towards the giant spaceship that had brought it to Leningrad.

“Colonel, you just won yourself a paid return trip to England. We should be there in a few minutes.”

“A few minutes? How is that possible?”

“We jump spacetime directly from point to point, which is instantaneous. In the meantime, you can take place in that seat. Are you hungry or thirsty?”

“Hungry, mostly, but less than most people in Leningrad.” The German went to a sort of storage locker and searched through a drawer, pulling out of it a bar of chocolate and throwing it at Zorokin, who eagerly grabbed it and started munching on it with delight. The machine was now entering a cavernous cargo hold inside the giant spaceship that was big enough to put a cruiser in. Huge doors closed behind them as the flying crane landed in the cargo hold. Groth spoke again in her

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helmet microphone in the same language she had used with the giant pilot, and this for a good two minutes. Zorokin was about to ask what was happening when a flash of white light briefly bathed the control cabin, surprising him.

“What was that?”

“We just jumped spacetime. We are now over our temporary base in England and will land in a short while. Follow me, Colonel.”

With the bald giant following them, Zorokin was led by Groth through a door and a short passageway, ending up in a small elevator cabin which went down one of the machine’s legs and brought them to the level of the hold’s deck. A sort of small vehicle without wheels was waiting for them there. Looking in vain for a driver, Zorokin nonetheless got in the open-top vehicle with the two others. The vehicle then started moving, crossing the expanse of the cargo hold and flying out through an external door. The time scooter flew over what appeared to be a standard military airfield, with its wide grassy surface and hangars. The row of spaceships parked nearby and the big, futuristic tower standing a few hundred meters away were however far from standard. Examining the parked spaceships with intense curiosity, Zorokin was not a little surprised to see one that had the name ‘WHITE ROSE OF STALINGRAD’ painted on its nose. He looked at Groth questioningly.

“You have Russian members in your Time Patrol?”

“A few and they come from two different centuries, Colonel.” The scooter soon landed next to the big, futuristic tower, where Groth stepped out with Zorokin and told him to follow her inside. They were met in the entrance lobby by a tall young woman with green eyes and long black hair. She eyed with cold interest the NKVD officer as Helena Groth and the giant pilot of the cargo spider walked away.

“Colonel Zorokin, I am Nancy Laplante. I believe that we have to have a serious talk together.”

“We certainly do, miss.”

“Then follow me! We will speak in my office.”

Zorokin couldn’t help look around him constantly as he followed Laplante inside the tower, fascinated by so many novel sights. He quickly noticed that there were at least as many women as men working in the building, most of them bald giants. He and Laplante finally entered a comfortably furnished office, where he was invited to sit in a plush sofa.

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“I hope that the decadent comfort of my office will not appear too ‘bourgeois’ to you, Colonel.” Said Laplante, deadpan. Zorokin smiled at her attempt at humor.

“Some Party apparatchiks, including Chairman Beria, enjoy at least the same level of luxury, Miss Laplante. It is one thing that grates me to no small degree when I see the starvation and misery around Leningrad these days. That is why the latest order from Beria disgusted me and prompted me into wanting to see you.”

“Could I see that message, Colonel?”

“Of course!” replied Zorokin, taking out again the sheet of paper. He was about to get up to hand it to Laplante when it flew out of his hand and floated in the air all the way to her. Laplante calmly grabbed it in midair and unfolded it, reading it while Zorokin unconsciously made the sign of the cross, sweat appearing on his forehead. The Russian didn’t say a word, though, not wanting to appear too intimidated. Laplante soon looked back at Zorokin, clearly upset by the message from Beria.

“I knew that Stalin was a monster, but this tops everything. What did you plan to do about this, Colonel? Is anyone else aware of this message?”

“Colonel General Chernikov, the military commander of Leningrad, knows about it. What I had in mind was to rid the Soviet Union of Stalin, Beria and their henchmen, and to put the interests of the Soviet people back at the top of Moscow’s priorities. I would however need your help in order to be able to do that.” Laplante stared at him with her penetrating gaze, making him feel uncomfortable.

“Colonel, do you believe in either socialism or pure communism?”

“I am a communist, miss, and always will be. What is practiced in Moscow now has little to do with true communism.”

“Colonel, this may surprise you, but I believe that I am what you would call a socialist. I come from a country and time where, while capitalism heavily influenced the economy, the domestic policies would certainly be deemed to be socialist, or even communist, by Americans or British standards of this present time. The giants you saw around today come from a future society which would probably appear to you to be a model of communist paradise: all the basic necessities of life are provided free to all by the government, while one has to pay only for what are considered luxuries. Also, if some economic downturn threatens basic services and necessities, then production of luxury products will be curtailed until the economy improves. Their society is however so prosperous that they have not had to cut production in centuries. They also have not known war for five centuries and are not burdened by any military expenditures, except

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for the little needed to support my Time Patrol. They have no secret police and enjoy total freedom of expression, apart from being able to elect democratically their leaders or even oust them via referendums. What do you think of that kind of society, Colonel?”

“That I would love to see the Soviet Union become such a society, Miss Laplante. But that will be impossible as long as men such as Stalin and Beria hold the reins of power in Moscow. Will you help me and General Chernikov get rid of them?” Nancy was silent for a while, scrutinizing the NKVD colonel sitting in front of her. The old saying ‘better the devil you know than the devil you don’t’ kept coming to her mind then. Zorokin, from what she could read in his mind, was what one would easily call a fanatic, with a rock-hard belief in communism and its superiority over all other political systems. He however appeared genuinely concerned about the interests of the common Soviet citizen and had been absolutely honest up to now with her. On their part, Stalin and his dirty executioner, Beria, had gone way too far this time and had just proved that there would be no peace in Eastern Europe as long as they were alive. Nancy was loath to make them martyrs of communism, though, which was what probably would happen if the Time Patrol publicly killed them. In a way, Zorokin was presenting her with a convenient solution to a tough dilemma. It was a nasty, sneaky solution but it was probably the only practical solution.

“Colonel Zorokin, I believe that our interests and those of the Soviet people meet in this case: you want to rid the Soviet people of the tyranny of Stalin’s rule while I want to ensure a lasting peace in Europe after the end of this war. When you will return to Leningrad, you may give this piece of news to General Chernikov: two days ago, I served an ultimatum to the High German Command to either start withdrawing on all fronts back into Germany by noon of this Saturday or face total destruction. Both Field Marshal Von Rundstedt in the West and Field Marshals Kluge and Manstein in the East have accepted my terms and are in the process of preparing to withdraw. In exchange, I have promised the Germans that they will be allowed to defend the borders of Germany as they stood in 1938, before the start of this war. On the part of the Soviet Union, I expect it to stay within its borders of 1938 and refrain from entering Poland and the other countries of Eastern Europe.”

Zorokin first felt joy at these news. Then, the thought of letting those murderous Germans withdraw peacefully started getting to him.

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“And what about all the deaths and destruction the Germans caused to my country? How could they be allowed to go free, as if nothing had happened in the last three years?”

“The persons responsible for causing this war are already either dead or in jail, including Adolph Hitler, Heinrich Himmler and Herman Goering. We nabbed them four days ago. They will be publicly tried for their crimes once this war is over. As for reparations for war damages, Germany will be made to pay a certain amount, but I do not want to repeat the mistakes made in 1918, when overly harsh terms caused long-term resentment in Germany and contributed to the rise to power of Hitler and his gang. It may be an imperfect peace in your mind, Colonel, but it is still a whole lot better than to let this war go on. We need peace and we need it now.”

“And what do you and your Time Patrol get out of this?” asked Zorokin, suspicious. Nancy kept a firm eye contact as she answered him.

“What we get is the satisfaction of saving millions of lives and of stopping human suffering, Colonel. Also, peace now means peace in the future, which is in our interest. We have no wish for personal power or enrichment.”

Zorokin nodded to that: while Laplante was not a communist, she was widely acknowledged in the Soviet Union as a brave and honorable soldier. She did not strike him at all as a person seeking personal power. There was also a powerful,

indescribable feeling emanating from her. It was hard indeed not to succumb to her charisma.

“Then, I can live with your conditions. What do you propose that we do?”

“What I had in mind will need the support of the Red Army. You, Colonel, can take care of Beria…”

21:15 (Moscow time)

28 Kachalova Street, Moscow

Soviet Union

Lavrentii Beria slapped hard the teenage girl tied naked and tied spread-eagled on his bed.

“Will you stop crying like this, you young slut, or do you want to experience real pain?”

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The fifteen-year-old blonde, who had been picked up an hour ago in a nearby street by a roaming team of NKVD secret policemen, strangled her sobs as best she could, terrified by her rapist. She was only the latest in a long list of girls picked at random to satisfy Beria’s lust for teenagers. Beria himself was naked and had already abused her once. He didn’t have a chance to rape her a second time, though. A male voice, disgust and anger audible in it, then snapped in Beria’s back.

“Leave her alone, you filthy bastard!”

Surprised and alarmed, Beria turned around to see a man in his late thirties and wearing civilian clothes. The stranger was also pointing at his head a pistol equipped with a silencer.

“Who…who are you? How did you get past my bodyguards downstairs?”

“Your bodyguards are a bunch of incompetents. As for who I am, just know that you raped one girl too many. You will now pay for the dishonor you brought to my daughter. Now, untie the girl!”

Beria, not known for his personal courage, promptly undid the ropes holding the teenager, who immediately jumped out of bed and ran to her clothes, thrown into a pile in a corner of the room. The gunman looked at the girl as she dressed.

“Once you are dressed, leave this house and go home. If this bastard’s bodyguards ask you, tell them that he is finished with you for the night. Don’t say anything to anybody, if you don’t want to put your family in danger.”

“I…I understand. Thank you, mister.”

As the girl left once fully clothed, the gunman went to the bedroom’s window while keeping his pistol pointed at Beria. Opening the window wide, he then got closer to the NKVD chairman, staring at him with intense hatred.

“This is for the people of Leningrad, whom you were ready to let starve to death.” The pistol then coughed once, the noise barely audible for anybody not inside the room. The bullet struck Beria right between the eyes, killing him instantly. As Beria’s inert body flopped down on the bed, the gunman quickly unscrewed the silencer off his pistol and threw a sheet of paper on the floor, then went back to the open window after locking the door. He waited a few minutes, in order to let enough time for the girl raped by Beria to escape, then passed his right arm outside and fired one bullet skyward, careful to catch the ejected brass casing, which he pocketed. He then fired two more bullets, this time in Beria’s body. The noise of running feet could be heard as he took out a cylindrical object from one pocket of his trench coat and pressed the red button on top of it. He

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disappeared in a flash of white light seconds before the first violent knocks shook the bedroom’s door. The door soon gave up, two burly men with revolvers at the ready crashing through it. They found only Beria’s body, the open window and the sheet of paper on the floor, along with three spent bullet casings. One of the bodyguards picked up the sheet of paper and read aloud the short statement written on it in rough lettering.

“For the rape of my beloved daughter…”

21:32 (Moscow Time)

Soviet Army Chief of Staff’s office

The Kremlin, Moscow

Marshal Georgii Zhukov was a busy man tonight, what with all the reports coming in of unspecified German troop movements at night along the whole front. When told that Colonel-General Chernikov had unexpectedly arrived from Leningrad, however, he made the time to receive him, as Chernikov was an old classmate from the military academy. Zhukov didn’t recognize the NKVD officer who came in with Chernikov, though. The latter saluted Zhukov and shook hands with him before presenting the NKVD man.

“Comrade Marshal, this is Colonel Ivan Zorokin, NKVD commissar for Leningrad. He is part of the reason I came to Moscow to see you. Yesterday, Colonel Zorokin received an order from Chairman Beria. That order was so shocking, so cruel that he came to see me to ask for my counsel, as he could not in all decency obey it. This is the message he received.”

Now frankly curious, Zhukov took the message from Chernikov and read it. His reaction was the same as that of Chernikov a day ago. Both angry and disgusted, he went to one of the large windows of his office to take in some fresh air and calm down. He finally faced his visitors, his face hard.

“You know what this means, comrades? If Beria wrote this, then it was probably at the request of Comrade Stalin himself.”

“We realize that, Comrade Marshal. However, that is not all. Yesterday again, when the Time Patrol cargo ship made its now customary delivery of foodstuff, it also delivered a letter from the Time Patrol. Its content was so sensitive that I decided to bring it by hand to you.”

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Zhukov took the envelope Chernikov handed him and opened it, finding inside a single sheet of paper bearing a holographic logo with the emblem of the Time Patrol. Zhukov knew from the hologram that this could not be a fake, as nobody but the Time Patrol could produce such pictures. The content of the letter was a real bombshell.

“The Germans are withdrawing back to Germany on all fronts? So, that is what those German troop movements are all about. We can’t just let them go like that, unmolested.”

“We will have to, Comrade Marshal: the Time Patrol envoy was very clear about that. It doesn’t want our forces to go further than our national borders as they stood in 1938. If we do not respect that clause, then the Time Patrol will use force to stop us. You know that we would not stand a chance in that case, Comrade Marshal. Their envoy also emphasized the importance of the last paragraph.” Zhukov reread that part aloud, intrigued.

“We want a lasting peace for all of Europe and also to see the Soviet people enjoy such a peace free from terror from whatever origin. I am not sure I understand, Comrade Chernikov.”

It was Zorokin who spoke then.

“We believe that Miss Laplante, who signed that letter, meant the terror from within the Soviet Union, Comrade Marshal. The Time Patrol somehow knew about Beria’s order to destroy the food and to blame this on them. They were understandably unhappy about it and threatened to clean our house if we didn’t do it ourselves.” Zhukov looked again at the envelope: it had been addressed to him and not to Stalin, something that was most probably not a simple mistake.

“Comrade Zorokin, did you destroy the foodstuff, as ordered by Chairman Beria?”

“I didn’t and I won’t, Comrade Marshal!” replied forcefully the NKVD officer. “That order was nothing less than an act of treason against the brave people of Leningrad, who have been enduring hell for a year while resisting the German invaders.”

“So, how are you supposed to explain that to Beria or to Stalin, Comrade Colonel?” asked pointedly Zhukov. Zorokin hesitated for a moment then: Nancy Laplante had not told him how she would get rid of Stalin.

“The Time Patrol envoy said to us not to worry about Beria or Stalin, Comrade Marshal, and to worry only about the freedom and security of the Soviet people.” Zhukov looked at him suspiciously: this sounded like a carefully elaborated plot. He however still had to plan for Stalin’s reaction to all this. He put the letter back in its

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envelope, then went to his large work desk and held the envelope over the big ashtray on it. Taking out his lighter, he put fire to the envelope and watched it burn, letting it go only at the last second. He then faced his visitors, his expression grave.

“Comrades, you never received that envelope. You only received a verbal message from the Time Patrol, who didn’t mention the part about comrades Stalin and Beria. We will now go inform Comrade Stalin about the German withdrawal and the Time Patrol restrictions to our movements, but nothing else.”

“What if he insists that we pursue the Germans all the way to Berlin?” asked Chernikov anxiously. “That could be the death of the Red Army.”

“The Red Army will not die, not as long as I live.” replied resolutely Zhukov while taking out his pistol and chambering a round in it before holstering it again. “Follow me and be ready for everything but don’t draw your pistols unless I do so.”

Their hearts pounding with both excitement and fear, Chernikov and Zorokin followed Zhukov out of his office and along the corridors of the Kremlin. Zhukov’s authority made all the doors open for them and they arrived in the anteroom of Stalin’s office six minutes later. Stalin’s political aide, Georgi Malenkov, was still working there at that late hour and greeted them.

“Comrade Marshal, what can I do for you and your two officers at this hour?”

“Is Comrade Stalin still in, Comrade Malenkov? We have news of the utmost importance for him.”

“He still is.” replied the fat man, smiling amiably to Zhukov. “You know how hard our leader works for his people. Give me a minute to announce you.” The trio repressed its nervousness as Malenkov knocked lightly on the door of Stalin’s office. After a few seconds and no answer, Malenkov knocked again, harder, but still without results. Getting worried, the aide then cautiously opened the door and stuck his head inside. He immediately jumped back, panic on his face.

“Comrade Stalin…he is lying on the carpet and not moving.” Zhukov immediately rushed past Malenkov, followed by Chernikov and Zorokin. They found Stalin lying still on the carpet, next to his desk, his mouth open and his right hand grasping his chest at heart level. An expression of intense pain was frozen on his now white face. Malenkov finally approached the body of his mentor and looked with horror at it.

“Is he…”

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“Dead? Yes!” replied Zhukov, having checked for a pulse and finding none. “Get a doctor here, quickly!”

As Malenkov ran out of the office, Zorokin examined the attitude of the body carefully.

“It looks like he suffered a heart attack.”

“It appears so to me as well.” replied Zhukov. “The doctor should be able to confirm the diagnostic.”

The doctor presently on duty in the Kremlin showed up, out of breath, six minutes later, along with Malenkov and a few guards. The doctor knelt beside the body of Stalin and took a minute to examine it before pronouncing his diagnostic.

“A heart attack. All the telltale signs are visible. I am afraid that the Comrade Premier worked too hard for his own good.”

“So, it is not an assassination?” asked the guards officer standing behind him. The doctor gave him a dubious look.

“No, Comrade Major, it isn’t. There are no wounds visible and a victim of poison would grab its throat or belly, not its chest. I will have an autopsy made right away but I don’t expect to find anything suspicious.”

“What do we do now?” nearly shouted Malenkov, near panic again. Zhukov got up and stared hard into his eyes.

“We make sure that the Soviet Union survives its great leader. I will order our forces to stand fast on all fronts. In the meantime, Comrade Malenkov, advise the members of the Politburo and of the Council of People’s Commissars of this tragic loss for our country. General Chernikov, Colonel Zorokin, come with me!” The trio waited until they were back inside Zhukov’s office before blowing air out in relief.

“God, that was a close call!” said Chernikov, his hands shaking from the release of stress. “How could the Time Patrol arrange Stalin’s death to look like a heart attack?”

“The how is not important, comrades.” said Zorokin firmly. “How we act from now is the important thing. This may be an opportunity for us that will probably be unique. Let’s use it wisely.”

Zhukov suddenly swore to himself.

“Beria! If he uses Stalin’s death to succeed him, things will be even worse, with the NKVD in total control of the country.”

“Do not worry about Chairman Beria, Comrade Zhukov.” said calmly Zorokin, attracting a surprised look from Zhukov. “He is dead already. The Time Patrol envoy

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told me so. We should worry more about his deputy and assistants at NKVD headquarters.”

“Is it really prudent to try to strike the NKVD headquarters now?” asked Chernikov nervously. “It may point to us as being responsible for Stalin’s death.” Zhukov nodded his head at those words.

“You may be right, Comrade Chernikov. If we play our political cards right, we may still marginalize the NKVD without exposing ourselves. Colonel Zorokin, how did Beria die, if I may ask?”

“Simple! The bastard raped one young girl too many and got what he deserved from a vengeful father. His name will go down in mud, as it should rightly be.” Zhukov couldn’t help smile at that: Beria’s sinister reputation as a depraved man was well known around Moscow.

“Neat! We thus have only to worry about who will succeed Comrade Stalin as our leader. If you will excuse me, I have a few urgent phone calls to do. There is a bottle of Vodka in that cabinet. Feel free to serve yourselves.” Zorokin and Chernikov didn’t have to be told twice. Tonight was truly a night worthy of celebration.