World Enough and Time ©James C. Clar
I've called this meeting, Dr. Beckwith began, to express my most sincere congratulations on a job well done. The director of the Institute for Temporal Studies & the Redemption of History looked fondly at the sixteen department heads seated around the conference table. Light from a nearby nebula shone through the view port that took up nearly one wall of the room.
As you know, this is our fifth attempt at such radical intervention and I think it's safe to assume that finally we've been successful. In the first three instances, the subject intuited the nature of the hoax outright. In the last two, unaccountably, the discovery of a physical anomaly in the subject's environment or psychological aberrations in the holographic characters with whom the captive interacted resulted in termination.
Beckwith pressed a button on the arm of his chair. A large monitor above and behind him came to life. The staff watched as a small man with a tiny moustache gave an impassioned speech in a harsh, guttural language before an enormous and adoring crowd.
The subject appears completely taken in by our deception, Beckwith remarked. All of which is a testament to your hard work and attention to detail. Everyone from the primary historical research team, the programmers, the holographic and Virtual Reality technicians, the medical staff down to the recovery and transition operatives performed flawlessly.
On the screen the small man completed his speech. A wisp of hair had fallen and lay casually on the middle of his forehead. He was whisked off stage and into a jet black limousine by a cadre of military officers in crisp black uniforms. The image on the monitor shifted and the subject could be seen seated in the vehicle's roomy interior. He had fixed his hair and, smiling, was sipping from a crystal glass.
I don't have to remind you that a failure here would have resulted in the closing of the Institute and a complete reversal in policy. Beckwith himself poured a glass of amber liquid from a carafe that sat near his right hand.
There are those who consider what we are doing to be an extravagant waste of resources. Some among them even advocate outright assassination of key historical figures to achieve peace in certain dimensions and time streams. The deaths of a few men or women, they argue, are wholly justified in order to save thousands or, as in this particular case, millions of lives. Everyone in this room rejects such arguments as specious and contrary to clearly established humanitarian principles.
The individuals seated around the table murmured in agreement.
I want to end by thanking you again and by reinforcing just how sensitive an operation this has been and will continue to be. The subject here is extremely intelligent, highly motivated and especially cunning. I know that I can count on you to continue to perform your duties with diligence and devotion.
Dr. Beckwith switched off the monitor and dismissed his staff. He was tired and there were rumors that another retrieval operation was to be ordered in the next month or so.
***
Meanwhile, looking up at the roof of the car in which he rode, the subject's smile turned wolfish. He knew he was being watched. There were powerful forces at work, forces he could not as yet understand or control. Hitler was certain that his unseen enemies whoever they were had prevented him from imposing his will on his own world, his own time; they wouldn't prevent him from doing so on this one wherever , whenever it was!
James C. Clar teaches and
writes in the wilds of western New York. His work has been published
in print as well as on the Internet. Recently he has placed short fiction
in the Taj Mahal Review, Golden Visions Magazine, Bewildering Stories,
Apollo's Lyre, Orchard Press Mysteries, 365 Tomorrows, Antipodean Sci-Fi,
Shine: The Journal of Flash, Everyday Fiction, Powder Burn Flash and
Flashshot. His story "Starbuck" was voted story of the year
for 2008 by the editors of Long Story, Short. |