The Pimpernel Plot

1

Biologically, Andre Cross was in her mid-twenties. If her age were to be reckoned chronologically, however, she would be well over fourteen hundred years old. She would grow older still, now that she had been given antiagathic drug treatments. Given all of this, it was difficult for her to accept the fact that by the standards of the 27th century, she was still little more than an adolescent.

If asked, she gave her biological age, which was twenty-six. To do otherwise meant getting into complicated explanations. It would mean revealing that she had been born in the 12th century to a couple of Basque farmers who had died when she was still a child. It would have meant explaining that she and her little brother, Marcel, had gone out alone into the world to become itinerant thieves, surviving as best they could, which meant that they were almost always starving. She would have had to explain that she had learned to pass as a young boy because, as vulnerable as young boys on their own could be young girls were even more so. If all that did not already strain credulity, there was the matter of their having been befriended by an aging, addle-brained knight errant who had taken them both on as squires so that he would not be alone and so that they could care for him. In return, he had trained them in the arts of knighthood (for he had never suspected that Andre was a female). While Marcel was a bit too delicate of frame and disposition to be very good in the skills of chivalry, Andre had excelled at them. She was possessed of an indefatigable drive and under the doting guidance of the senile knight, she had transformed her young and coltish body into a well-coordinated, broad-shouldered, muscular physique. Nature had not endowed her with a voluptuous figure. She was slim-hipped and small-breasted. A life of hardship and physical toil had given her the sort of shape that was not traditionally associated with feminine beauty. She was wiry and unnaturally strong, which had made it easier for her to carry on her male masquerade into an age when most awkward girls began to develop into graceful women. When the old knight died, she took his armor and, swathing her small breasts in cloth, she assumed the role of a young “free companion,” a mercenary knight. She took the invented name of Andre de la Croix and eventually found service with Prince John of Anjou at a time when he plotted to seize his brother Richard’s throne.

She found herself involved with time travelers from the far future, although she had not known it then, nor would she have understood it if she had. She knew nothing of time travel and she was ignorant of the Time Wars, a highly dangerous method of settling conflicts in the future by sending soldiers back through time to do battle within the confines of armed struggles of the past. Her first knowledge of such things came from a deserter from the Temporal Corps named Hunter, a man with a stolen chronoplate who helped her to avenge her brother’s murder and then took her ahead through time to the Paris of the 17th century. There, ironically, she once again became involved with the machinations of people from the 27th century, this time taking a more active part in their activities on what they called “the Minus Side.” If not for her, two soldiers named Lucas Priest and Finn Delaney might have died. They repaid her by granting her request and taking her with them to the time from which they came.

Even explaining that much to people would have meant omitting many details and inviting further questions, so Andre Cross (for that was her name now and, indeed, she could no longer recall the name she had been born with) did not bother with any explanations. A small handful of people knew her true history. As far as everyone else was concerned, she was just an ordinary young woman of the 27th century who had enlisted in the Temporal Corps and been assigned to Lt. Col. Forrester’s elite First Division, better known as the Time Commandos.

When she had first arrived at Pendleton Base, at the Temporal Departure Station, she had been completely overwhelmed with future shock. She had understood literally nothing of what she had seen and had been badly frightened, in spite of warnings from Priest and Delaney to expect a world of seemingly inexplicable miracles. Now that she was returning to Temporal Army Command Headquarters, she still possessed an unbridled fascination with the new world in which she found herself, but it was no longer an awesome mystery to her.

Since her arrival in the 27th century, she had been in the hands of specialists, being prepared for her new life at the Temporal Army Medical Complex in Colorado Springs. Firstly, and most importantly, it had been necessary to determine whether or not her temporal transplantation would have an adverse effect upon the course of history. The first part of this question had been settled when it was discovered that, due to an injury sustained in combat at some time in her past, she would be unable to bear children. The second part took a little longer, but exhaustive research and the correlation of findings made by members of the Observer Corps on the Minus Side satisfied the investigators that Andre’s removal from her natural time would not constitute a threat to temporal continuity. That opened her way to a new life as a soldier in the Temporal Corps. However, it had been only the first step.

It had been necessary for her to receive immunization treatments, followed by the carefully administered program of antiagathic drug therapy that would extend her lifespan far beyond what she had believed to be possible. That was followed by a long series of tests designed to establish a psychological profile for her, after which she underwent surgery to receive the cybernetic implants that would enable her to function as a temporal soldier and allow her to be implant-educated to compensate for the knowledge she lacked as a result of her primitive origins. They had viewed her as a blank slate and the programming had progressed in slow and carefully controlled stages, during which she was assiduously monitored to make certain that at no point was there any danger of sensory or cerebral overload.

After the long process had been completed, she had emerged as a full-fledged citizen of the 27th century, computer-programmed to take her place in the modern world and trained to assume her new role as a private in the First Division. She had the lowest rank of any soldier in that vaunted cadre, but she had already participated in one of the most important missions in the history of the unit. While she had still been back in 17th-century Paris, she had worked with Finn Delaney and Lucas Priest, as well as agents of the TIA, to help foil a terrorist plot against the Referee Corps. As a result of her performance, Forrester had personally invited her to join his unit and to be trained to work alongside Priest and Delaney.

As she rode the lift tube up to First Division Headquarters in the Temporal Army Corps HQ building at Pendleton Base, she was looking forward to seeing Priest and Delaney once again. When she had completed her training and preparations at the Colorado Springs facility, she had contacted the First Division administrative offices, requesting that Priest and Delaney get in touch with her as soon as they were able. Shortly thereafter, as soon as they had clocked in from an assignment, she received a message from them.

“Private Cross is herewith ordered to report to the First Division lounge, TAC-HQ building, on 1 January 2614 at 2100 hours. Congratulations are in order. Major Lucas Priest and Staff Sergeant Finn Delaney, First Division, TAC.”

She smiled when she saw them waiting for her at a table by the huge window that comprised the outer wall of the First Division lounge. It was at the very same table that she sat with them when she first met Colonel Forrester and had her first taste of a drink called Scotch. It had helped to numb her senses somewhat as she gazed out that window and saw the shuttles floating by like great steel birds while, far below, soldiers massed down in the atrium, looking like insects from the great height at which she gazed at them.

Priest and Delaney saw her coming and they rose to their feet to greet her. Andre saw that there was a sort of center-piece upon the table consisting of a medieval broadsword crossed with a 17th-century rapier. Above the juncture of the two swords, in a little velvet-lined box, was a golden division insignia, a stylized number one bisecting a horizontal figure eight, the symbol of infinity.

She marched up to the table, snapped to attention, and gave them both a sharp salute. Lucas grinned, picked up the insignia, and pinned it to the collar of her green transit fatigues. Both men then stood to attention, returned her salute, and then each of them gave her a most unmilitary kiss.

Though the kisses were affectionate in nature, rather than passionate, she was nevertheless taken by surprise.

“What’s wrong?” said Lucas, seeing her expression.

“Nothing,” she said, smiling, “except that’s the first time either of you have ever kissed me. In fact, that was the first time I’ve been kissed since I was just a child.”

“Well, don’t let it go to your head,” said Finn, “both of us can do much better. How are you, Andre?”

“Well, thank you, though I still have a great deal to get used to. It hasn’t yet ceased to feel strange to come across things that I have absolutely no experience of and suddenly discover that I know all about them.”

“It probably never will cease to feel strange,” said Lucas. “It’s something all of us experience at one time or another. Believe it or not, you’ll grow accustomed to it. It’s what soldiers call ‘subknowledge.’ You’ll learn to live with it. In fact, you wouldn’t survive for very long without it. None of us would.”

“You’ve come through with flying colors,” Finn said. “I spoke to that officer who was in charge of your case-”

“Colonel Hendersen,” she said.

“Yes, that’s the one. He said he was damned sorry to have to let you go. You’re the most radical case of temporal relocation in the history of the corps. He said that we’ve had people relocated further back in time before, on the Minus Side, but evidently no one’s ever been displaced and permanently assigned to Plus Time. He was bending over backwards trying to get you reassigned to his unit.”

“He wasn’t the only one,” said Andre. “The recruiters wanted to get their hands on me, as well. Evidently, as an example of the type of woman that soldiers could expect to meet on the Minus side, I’d be a good inducement for enlistment.” She laughed. “Never mind that it would be misleading, I found the whole thing extremely funny. Women are certainly treated far better in this time than in the one I came from, but I suppose that some things will never change. The recruiting officer practically turned himself inside out trying to get me to sign some papers and he was quite upset when I told him that anything I did would have to be cleared through Col. Forrester first. By the way, where is the old man? I was hoping he’d be here.”

Lucas grinned. “Just make sure you never call him ‘the old man’ to his face! He wanted to be here, but he couldn’t make it. Something came up and he was called upstairs, which means that either Delaney’s up on charges again or there’s a good chance we’re going out soon.”

“Does that mean that I will be included?” Andre said.

Finn flicked her collar up with a finger, the side with the division insignia on it. “That makes it official,” he said. “Meanwhile, there’s still a part of your education that’s been sadly neglected.”

Andre frowned. “But I was assured that my programming was quite complete,” she said.

“All except for one thing,” said Finn, “and that’s something implant education can’t take care of. Now that you’re a soldier, you’re going to have to learn to drink like one.”

“Are you implying that I’m deficient in that department?” she said with a smile.

“Well, let’s say that you have yet to prove that you are not,” said Finn, chuckling.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

Finn grinned. “Name your poison,” he said.

Andre looked at him with amusement. She knew that Delaney was a prodigious drinker, but she also recalled that there was one drink in particular, preferred by Col. Forrester, that Delaney truly loathed. She hadn’t tried it, but she recalled Delaney saying that it took a deathwish and a cast-iron stomach to be able to stand it.

“Red Eye,” she said.

Delaney looked aghast. “Oh, no!”

Lucas burst out laughing. “Ten chits says she drinks you under the table,” he said.

“Okay, you’re on,” Delaney said. “Only let’s make it more interesting. If you want to collect, you’re going to have to match us drink for drink.”

“I think that I can make it still more interesting,” said Andre. “It’s been years since I’ve had a man and the last one left a great deal to be desired. We’ll all go drink for drink and if one of you wins, I’ll take him to bed.”

The two men raised their eyebrows and exchanged glances. “But suppose you win?” said Lucas. “Unlikely a possibility though that may be,” he added.

Andre smiled. “Then the two of you will pool your resources and purchase me the services of a Class 1 male courtesan.”

“A Class 1… Where in hell did you learn about that?” Delaney said. “They’re putting that kind of stuff in the programming?”

“My therapist at Colorado Springs seemed to think that I’d been sexually deprived,” said Andre. “She suggested that as a solution. The idea of a male whore intrigued me greatly and I told her that I would consider it. She said to ask for a Class 1, since they possessed the greatest level of skills.”

“Do you have any idea how much something like that would cost?” said Finn. “It takes years to achieve a Class l rating.”

“Well, you did say that you wanted to make the wager interesting,” she said.

“Of course, you realize that by bringing a Class 1 licensed courtesan into the wager, you’re placing a not inconsiderable value on yourself?” said Lucas, with a hint of amusement.

She replied with a straight face. “I always have,” she said.

Lucas chuckled. “Very well, I’m game. What about you Finn?”

“I’m still trying to decide if I can afford it,” said Delaney. “A major makes a great deal more than a noncom.”

“So who asked you to get busted so many goddamn times?” said Lucas. “I’ll tell you what: if Andre wins I’ll advance you whatever you’re short, at the usual rate of interest. How about it?”

“This could get very expensive,” said Delaney.

“Of course, if you think you’ll lose…” said Andre

“All right, I accept,” said Finn. “But on one condition. I name the time and place. When I collect, I want both of us to be cold sober.”

Finn and Lucas staggered into the briefing room, both of them terribly hung over. Delaney’s eyes looked like a map of the city’s transit system. Priest was afraid that he had destroyed his stomach lining. They found Andre already in the briefing room, drinking black coffee and looking remarkably invigorated and refreshed. She glanced up at them and smiled sweetly.

“Well?” she said. “Have I learned to drink like a soldier or do I still require practice?”

“That’s the last time I ever make a bet with you,” said Finn slowly lowering himself into a chair and signaling the orderly for a cup of coffee. Lucas sank into a chair on her other side.

“I still can’t believe she was sober enough to collect last night,” he said. He looked at Andre and shook his head, sadly. “Considering how much it must have cost, I hope you were at least clearheaded enough to remember the experience!”

“Oh, it was quite memorable,” she said, lightly. “It was fortunate for me that there was a female officer in the lounge last night who could assist me in making the selection. I explained our wager to her and she was delighted to help out. She examined your credit discs and programmed the credit transfer, then guided me in making a wise choice. I must say, I found it all absolutely fascinating. However, I had no idea that these courtesans were paid by the hour. It must be an extremely lucrative profession.”

Finn shut his eyes. “How long did you keep him?”

“Oh, all night, of course.”

Delaney put his head into his hands and moaned.

“Ten-tion!” called out the orderly as Col. Forrester entered the briefing room. Andre leapt to her feet and snapped to a smart attention. Lucas took considerably longer to rise and Delaney didn’t even bother, remaining slumped over in his chair with his head in his hands.

The massively built Forrester removed his cap from his bald head and looked them over, his craggy, wrinkled features contorting into a grimace of wry distaste.

“As you were,” he said, dryly. Andre and Lucas sat back down. “Corporal Fleming,” said Forrester.

“Yes, sir, I know,” said the orderly. He already had the hypogun prepared. Delaney winced as the corporal pressed the gun against his neck and injected the adrenergen soldiers had nicknamed “nitro” directly into his carotid artery.

“Christ!” Finn shouted as the “nitro” hammered into his brain. He jerked violently in his chair. His eyes rolled and he shivered as if with St. Vitus’s Dance.

The orderly approached Lucas with the hypogun, but Forrester stopped him, saying, “That’s all right, Corporal Fleming. As long as he can stand up on his own, he’s sober enough for me. Just bring the major some more coffee.”

“Yes, sir.” The corporal looked disappointed.

“Delaney?” Forrester said.

“Sir!”

“I swear, I think you’re starting to like that stuff. Do you think we can proceed now?”

“Fuck, yes!”

“A simple ‘yes, sir’ would have been sufficient.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Sit down and shut up, Delaney. And try not to shake like a monkey on a stick. It’s most distracting.”

Delaney sat back down, holding the arms of his chair with a death grip. He tried to control the flow of energy, but he still continued to vibrate like an epileptic.

Forrester glanced at Andre and smiled. “Glad you’ve joined us, Private Cross. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Think you’re ready for a mission?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. This one should provide a decent shakedown for you. I shouldn’t think you’d have much trouble, after the Timekeeper affair. This one should be quite simple compared to that.”

“I’ll do my very best, sir.”

Fob nodded. “Priest, you all right?”

“Just a bit hung over, sir.”

“That must have been some celebration last night,” said Forrester. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“We’ll give you a rain check on another one as soon as we get back, sir,” Lucas said. “I’d sort of like to see you and Private Cross hoist a few together. She drinks Red Eye as if it were iced tea.”

“Really? Well, it’s nice to know that there’s at least one person in this unit who can hold her liquor. How much did you lose?”

“I’d rather not say, sir.”

“That bad?” Forrester chuckled. “You and I will have to sit down to some serious elbow-bending, Cross. I don’t think that these two amateurs are in our class “

“Anytime, sir,” said Andre. “It will be my pleasure.”

“Good, it’s a date. Now let’s get down to business, shall we?” Forrester went up to the podium console and leaned against it. “You people will be happy to know that you’ll be fairly autonomous on this mission,” he said, “meaning that you won’t have the Temporal Intelligence Agency to contend with.”

“Goddamn spooks,” Delaney said, his shaking beginning to subside a little.

“Keep your opinions to yourself, Delaney,” Forrester said. “In any case, you might be interested to know that after that last mission, the Referee Corps has seen fit to grant the army eminent domain regarding temporal adjustment missions, which means that the TIA is back to its intelligence-gathering role under the aegis of the Observer Corps. That didn’t sit very well with Darrow, so he resigned and there’s a new agency director now, brought in from the Observer Corps. I hope this will end the rivalry between our two branches of the service. I also checked on agent Mongoose, in case you should be curious how things turned out with him He was critical for while, but he’s recovered nicely and his features have been reconstructed. He’s also been demoted from field operations director to intelligence evaluation and it’s my guess that it will be a long time before he’s trusted with another field assignment. Considering how badly he botched that mission, it’s nothing but a slap on the wrist, if you ask me, but that’s none of my concern. By the way, Delaney, I am given to understand that the two of you had some differences of opinion that you had intended to resolve privately, between yourselves. Needless to say, I don’t want to hear about any breach of regulations, but I would not be displeased to learn that agent Mongoose had been temporarily removed from the TIA active-duty roster for the purposes of further medical attention. In this regard, I trust that any ‘discussions’ between the two of you will be handled with discretion.”

“I’ll see to it, sir,” Delaney said. He was only twitching now.

“You can see to it on your own time,” said Forrester. “Right now, there’s more pressing business requiring our attention. We have an adjustment on our hands and you’ll be clocking out immediately following this briefing.” He pressed a button on the console, activating the computer. “Forrester, code 321-G, clearance blue,” he said.

“Clearance confirmed,” said the computer. “How may I assist you, Colonel?”

“Request general background information on the French Revolution, circa 1789 to 1799,” said Forrester.

“Working,” said the computer. “Do you require visuals?”

“I’ll specify visuals if need be,” Forrester said. “Proceed when ready.”

“French Revolution, immediate causes,” said the computer. “Rapid growth of French industry and commerce in the late 1700s leading to growth of the middle class; inequitable taxation-many cases exempting aristocrats and members of the clergy; weakening of the old regime by the Treaty of Paris in 1763, which gave French possessions in India and North America to the British; consequent loss of revenues to the government; further depletion of the treasury due to expenditures incurred in giving aid to the Americans in their revolt against the British; bankruptcy of the king’s treasury in 1787; refusal of King Louis XVI to institute needed social reforms growth of the philosophe movement leading to-”

“That’s enough,” said Forrester. “Proceed.”

“May 5, 1789,” said the computer. “King Louis XVI summoned a meeting of the Estates-General at Versailles in order to raise money for the treasury. Representation consisted of 300 aristocrats; 300 clergy; and 600 commons, tiers etat, or third estate. Immediate debate concerning voting powers led to the members of the third estate assuming the title of the National Assembly, June 17, 1789. June 20, meetings were suspended and members of the Assembly took the Tennis Court Oath, so named after their place of informal meeting, resolving to draft a constitution. The Assembly was joined by members of the clergy and aristocratic classes. The Comte de Mirabeau rose to prominence as principal orator of the third estate. Dismissal of chief minister Jacques Neckar by Louis XVI on July 11 and threatened dismissal of the Assembly precipitated the storming of the Bastille by a mob on July 14, the murder of Governor Launay, and the freeing of political prisoners. Neckar was recalled, the Marquis de Lafayette was appointed commander of new National Guard, adoption of the tricolor and the beginning of emigration by members of the aristocratic class followed. Mass uprisings took place throughout France. On August 4, 1789, aristocratic representatives surrendered all feudal rights and privileges, titles were abolished, sales of offices prohibited, guilds were dissolved. August 27, 1789, the Assembly accepted the Declaration of the Rights of Man, drawn from English and American precedents and theories of the philosophes. October 5, 1789, an outbreak of mob violence in Paris culminated in a mob consisting primarily of women invading the royal palace at Versailles. The royal family was rescued by the Marquis de Lafayette. The National Assembly adopted a constitution creating a monarchy answerable to a one-house Legislature. The property of the church and of emigrated nobles was seized by the government to provide public funds. The state assumed the support of the clergy. July 1790 saw the abolition of old provinces and governments; France was divided into 83 departments, subdivided into 374 districts and cantons, each with a local assembly. Voting or active citizens paid taxes equivalent to three days’ labor wages; nonvoting or passive citizens paid no taxes or a sum less than the three days’ minimum. The old judicial constitution was abolished. Civil organization of the clergy, with priests and bishops chosen by popular vote, accompanied the growth of the political power of the Jacobin Club under the leadership of Robespierre, and of the Cordeliers under the leadership of Georges Jacques Danton and Jean Paul Marat. King Louis XVI attempted to flee France with his family on June 20, 1791, was captured at Varennes, and was brought back to Paris. Dissolution of the National Assembly by vote of the membership occurred on September 30, 1791 and election of the Legislative Assembly took place on October 1, 1791, with 745 members elected by active citizens and divided into a Right faction, consisting of constitutionalists and Royalists, and a Left faction, consisting of Girondists, Jacobins and Cordeliers. August 27, 1791, the Declaration of Pillnitz by Frederick William II of Prussia and Leopold II of Austria resulted in the alliance of Austria and Prussia against France in February of 1792 and the War of the First Coalition.”

“Stop,” said Forrester. “All right, those are the highlights, you’ll get the rest during mission programming. The key point here concerns the fact that the Referee Corps had assigned an arbitration action to take place during the War of the First Coalition. There was a call for voluntary enlistment in France and soldiers of the Temporal Corps were clocked back to various locales in key municipalities to be infiltrated as volunteers for the French Army of the Republic. Continue, computer.”

“August 10, 1792,” said the computer, “rioting mobs broke into the Tuileries, killed the Swiss Guards, and forced the king to turn to the Legislative Assembly for protection. The Assembly imprisoned the king and took away all of his remaining powers. There were mass arrests under the provisional government headed by Georges Jacques Danton. September 2 to September 7, 1792, the September Massacres-”

“Stop,” said Forrester. “Now by this time, there was total panic among the aristocrats remaining in France. Computer, general overview concerning aristocratic emigration circa 1792.”

“Emigration of ci-devant aristocrats was forcibly prevented by the provisional government,” said the computer. “The Committee of Public Safety, under the leadership of public prosecutor Fouquier-Tinville, appointed to preside over France’s internal security, was charged with power to arrest and execute enemies of the Republic. Mass attempts by members of the aristocracy to escape France, some aided by foreign nationals-”

“Stop, “ said Forrester. “General background on the Scarlet Pimpernel.”

“Working,” said the computer. “The scarlet pimpernel: a common pimpernel (Anagallis arvensis), having scarlet, white or purplish flowers that close at the approach of rainy or cloudy weather-also called poor man’s weatherglass, red pimpernel. In conjunction with the French Revolution, the insignia and alias of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, a group of British adventurers involved in the smuggling of French aristocrats to England, specifically, the alias of the leader of the group, Sir Percy Blakeney-”

“Visual, please,” said Forrester.

A second later, a holographic image of Sir Percy Blakeney appeared before the podium. The projection was that of a tall, broad-shouldered, athletic-looking man with fair hair, blue eyes, and a strong jaw. He looked handsome, but he had a look of vague boredom on his face, giving it a slightly sleepy, insipid air. He was dressed in a short-waisted satin coat, a waistcoat with wide lapels, tight-fitting breeches, and highly polished Newmarket boots. His sleeves and collar were trimmed with fine Mechline lace and he stood in an affected posture, one leg slightly before the other, one hand on his hip, the other bent before him and holding a lace handkerchief in a loose, languid fashion.

“There’s a pretty flower,” said Delaney.

“There’s your assignment, Delaney,” Forrester said. “In several hours, that’s what you’re going to look like.”

“Why me?” Delaney said, chagrined.

“Because Priest’s too short and you’re about the right build,” said Forrester.

“Hell,” said Delaney. “All right, let’s have the rest of it.”

“The adjustment stems from the temporal interference of one soldier, named Alex Corderro, assigned to the War of the First Coalition arbitration action,” Forrester said. “It was his first hitch in the field and subsequent investigation shows that he never should have been accepted in the service in the first place. Too unstable, a high potential of cracking under stress. Unfortunately, the corps is so badly in need of cannon-fodder that we’ll take just about anyone these days. As a result of that sterling policy, we’ve got an adjustment on our hands.

“Corderro violated the noninterference directives,” said Forrester. “He attempted to prevent the capture of some escaping aristocrats and, in so doing, he shot a captain in the Army of the Republic. Blakeney and his wife were on the scene and what seems to have occurred, as best as the Observers can reconstruct it, is that Lady Blakeney was wounded in the exchange of gunfire and Blakeney was trampled by a horse. Corderro escaped through the West Barricade in the Blakeneys’ coach, but he was shot several times. Evidently, he lost consciousness and bled to death. The Observers found the coach in a wooded area several miles outside of Paris. The horses had run themselves out and had wandered off the road, somehow managing to wedge the coach between two trees. Inside the coach, they found Corderro, dead. Lady Marguerite Blakeney was alive, but badly wounded and unconscious.”

“What about Sir Percy?” said Delaney.

“He was left behind in Paris,” Forrester said.

“And where is he now?”

“Well, the Observers managed to remove his body-”

“His body! You mean he’s dead?”

“Chest completely crushed by a horse’s hooves,” said Forrester.

Delaney swallowed heavily. “Wait, now, let me get this straight, sir. You’re telling me that my assignment is to be a plant? A temporal relocation?”

“That’s right.”

“For how long?”

“Well, that remains to be seen,” said Forrester. “We have to make certain that the aristocrats who were smuggled out of France by Blakeney and his group don’t wind up on the guillotine. He was also instrumental in the fall from power of a certain French official named Chauvelin an agent of the Committee of Public Safety. Since Blakeney’s operations were of a covert nature, we don’t have a great deal of information on him and his group.

“We have since obtained further data, courtesy of our friends at the TIA. At any rate, even though it may not all be cut and dried, at least you won’t have anyone from our time working against you, as you did in several of your previous assignments.”

“Still,” said Delaney, “what you’re telling me is that I may wind up taking Blakeney’s place indefinitely.”

“That’s essentially correct,” said Forrester “at least until the TIA can determine exactly what his activities were in the years following his involvement in the Revolution. However it should not be all unpleasant,” he added. “Computer, visual on Lady Marguerite Blakeney.”

The holographic projection of Sir Percy Blakeney disappeared, to be replaced by one of his wife, the former Marguerite St. Just. Delaney gulped and Priest gave a low whistle.

Forrester smiled. “I shouldn’t think that life with Lady Blakeney would be very hard to take,” he said. He chuckled. “Frankly, Delaney, I think you’ll have your hands full.”