Time Leap (14 page)

So Mike and Yoyo had come
to an agreement: no meddling in the past, but we can determine our
own future – if needed. And in this case, averting a cataclysmic
war was very much needed. The only problem that remained was how
exactly to avoid this forthcoming war – what to do to prevent it
happening? The four of us appreciated that assassinating Kim
Jong-un was just one possibility. What else could be
done?

“
Well, as you
can imagine, Yoyo and I spent quite some time thinking this
through,” Mike began. Yoyo nodded. “I think we all agree that
whatever we do should involve minimal risk to
ourselves.”

We were silent for a
moment, and then Niki said, “As I understand it, Kim Jong-un is not
the danger – it’s his future son, Kim Jong-hui. And one way to
avert a war is to prevent him ever existing – which could be done
by assassinating his father…”

“
Or his
mother,” Yoyo added.

“
Yes. But as
Mike said yesterday, killing the mother does not necessarily stop
Kim remarrying, and passing on his genes.”

‘
Do we know
the exact location of the meeting with the Chinese?” I asked
Mike.

“
It was in the
government office in Xizhimen South Street in Beijing,” Mike
replied.

“
I love how
you say ‘
was
’!” I
said. “Okay, so if we were to assassinate Kim, we would somehow
have to get into that building. I imagine that we couldn’t just
walk in?”

“
No way,” said
Yoyo. “I think we’ve got to use our greatest asset...”

“
Time–travel,”
Niki said.

“
Yes. And also
use the fact that Niki and I are Chinese. You guys… no chance.” We
had to admit she was right. “So we enter the building the previous
day, and then make a jump forward.”

“
Or the day
after and jump backwards,” I added.

“
The day
after?” Niki queried.

“
Yes. After
the event, there will be much less security than before,” I
said.

“
Joe’s right,”
said Mike. “That has my vote.”

“
Ok, we’re
getting somewhere. So Niki and I will jump to one day
after
the meeting…” said
Yoyo.

“
Wait a
minute! I thought you said you were too old for this?” I
said.

“
What! No no
–
Mike
said we are
too old – I never said that!” The two girls smiled.

“
I’ve got it!”
Niki suddenly shrieked.

“
You have?”
Mike said.

“
We don’t have
to kill anybody… we simply kidnap Kim!”

Mike and I exchanged
puzzled looks. Then I said, “Okay, but supposing you do that, how
long are you going to keep him for? Until he promises to never
father a child? And where are you going to keep him?”

“
In a place
where no–one will ever find him!” said Niki.

“
Ah, yes!”
Yoyo smiled.

“
Okay you two,
what’s the joke?” asked Mike.

“
The future!”
Niki beamed.

“
Yes,” Yoyo
added, “we take him to a future time period – and leave him
there!”

We all laughed. It was a
brilliant idea – but Mike wasn’t so sure.

“
It’s a great
idea, but the future – our future – is dangerous. If anything
happens to you Niki, then that affects Yoyo too – don’t forget
that. It’s better if I go alone.”

“
No Mike!”
said Yoyo. “I’m going with you. If anything happens, I don’t want
to be left on my own. And remember our agreement?” Yoyo was, of
course, referring to the pact I’d make with Niki to always make
jumps together.

We were all quiet again.
Then I said, “All right… Mike and Yoyo will take Kim to the future.
Let him see the result of his future son’s actions. Then they
either leave him there – or just kill him. Staying in that
atmosphere is pretty much a death sentence anyway.” We were all
more serious now.

Somehow, I felt guilty
about sending Kim Jong-un to an atomic war future not of his
making. Yes, Kim had defied many United Nations ultimatums en route
to developing nuclear weapons and long–range missiles; but he
himself was not the one who would ultimately press the button and
launch the World into an atomic war – one which looked like it
would bring about the end of humanity. That was, it seemed, the
destiny of his son. Eventually I said, “No, we can’t leave him
there.”

“
Joe’s right,”
agreed Mike, understanding my meaning. “If we leave Kim in the
future, then his son Kim Jong-hui will not be born in our time
zone. Which means that World War Three is unlikely to happen in our
lifetime – so we’re not actually sending him to a terrible future
after all. Instead, he could father a son in his new time zone, and
all we would be doing is delaying the big war. So if we are going
to take the Korean leader to the future, we need to kill him
too.

The four of us sat
together in this small coffee shop, ourselves and our future
selves, drinking coffee and deliberating on the future of mankind
and how we could use the power of time–travel to avert the future
self–destruction of human–kind – not to mention the planet. Why was
it so difficult?

“
I think the
main problem is that none of us actually wants to pull the
trigger.” Yoyo said at last. “We can’t bring ourselves to end one
life to save millions – even though we know it’s the right thing.”
We nodded in quiet agreement. Then Niki suddenly said.

“
We need a
hit–man.”

“
I like that!”
Yoyo smiled.

“
A contract
killer?” I queried. “Are you serious?”

“
Why not? A
professional killer would have no problem with this. It’s his job –
he gets paid for it – and we’ve certainly got the
money.”

“
The girl’s
are right,” Mike said. “When it comes down to it, none of us wants
to pull the trigger. I like Niki’s idea.”

“
You can’t all
be serious!” I said.

“
I think we
should give it a try,” Mike replied. “It would solve a lot of
problems.”

“
And create a
whole load more!” I observed. “For one thing, we’d have to share
our secret with a killer!”

“
At least one
of you would have to accompany the assassin, of course,” Mike
continued.

“
And you
couldn’t give the killer your phone,” added Yoyo.

I couldn’t believe what I
was hearing. Everyone except me thought this was a good
idea.

“
But what if
he causes trouble? What if he turns the gun on one of
us?”

“
Then you’ll
have to choose your killer very, very carefully,” said
Mike.

***

Twenty

His name was Smirnoff.
Not his real name, of course, but one we both liked. He was big
with an unshaven look – about a week’s stubble I reckon. He dressed
well enough, but wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. He sported a good
quality black leather jacket (no doubt his favourite) with a white
patterned shirt and light blue jeans, supported by a wide dark
brown belt. His hair was thick, black, uncombed and would have been
fashionable in the late 1970’s. He was around forty–five, we
guessed.

The three of us were
sitting on an old wooden bench, sheltered by sycamore trees in a
small park, not far from the British Museum in the Bloomsbury
district of London. It was a quiet time of day, and few people
frequented the park at this hour (we’d checked). It seemed a good
place to meet a killer. Niki sat next to Smirnoff, and I sat next
to her.

“
Have you done
this sort of thing before?” I asked, suddenly realising what a
stupid question this was.

“
No, it’s my
first time,” he replied with a thick Russian accent, and a smile.
The smile and sense of humour clearly won Niki over.

“
What we need
you to do here is a little… different,” Niki stated.

Smirnoff shrugged his
shoulders. “I’ve done it all,” he said. “What’s new?”

“
How about
‘Time travel?’” I suggested.

He nodded his
head, taking out a packet of expensive–looking Russian cigarettes.
“Now,
that
would
be different.” He opened the box and offered the contents.
“Smoke?”

“
No thanks,” I
said, waving them away. “I gave up when I was three…true story: my
dad stuck a fag in my mouth when I was three years old – both my
mum and dad were trying to give up at the time and wanted to
dissuade me… it worked.

“
Good choice…
they can kill, you know.” That smile again, plus a twinkle in the
eye. “Maybe you should give cigarettes to your clients,” he
continued. “You wouldn’t need me then.” He put a filter–tipped
cigarette in his mouth and lit it with the gold–plated lighter from
his pocket. “Anyway, you were saying… Time travel?”

“
Take my
hand,” said Niki, suddenly standing up. It took him by surprise,
and he hesitated for a moment. “I won’t bite,” she
added.

“
Ok… where are
we going?” he asked.

“
We’re going
to visit an old friend of yours.”

We had
pre–planned this, naturally. Catapulting Smirnoff back in time
would convince him of our ability far more than any words could
ever do – well, that’s what we thought. After Smirnoff took Niki’s
right hand, I took hers and simultaneously changed the date on my
phone to 1
^st
September 1902. The park ‘wobbled’.

“
This way,”
Niki smiled at the Russian. He must have noticed the change in the
look of the park after we jumped, but he showed little indication
of that. Around us, the trees were a lot smaller and the pathways
different, but not a lot else. What I noticed most was the
atmosphere. The smell of coal burning fires predominated, and it
was difficult to stop myself coughing. But outside the park was the
real eye–opener.

“
What in the
name of…?” Smirnoff could not contain his amazement as we gazed
along the narrow road with horse–drawn carriages. “Where
are
we? Is this a movie
set?”

A man in a bowler hat,
turned up collar and waistcoat (complete with a watch chain) walked
by, docking his hat to Niki as he passed. Across the road, two
elderly women dressed in long skirts down to their ankles, frilly
blouses and large brimmed flowery hats gazed at us. Niki had made
sure she was dressed in keeping with the times (as far as
possible), though she couldn’t hide the fact that she was Chinese
of course. I donned the cloth cap I’d been keeping in my pocket to
look as inconspicuous as possible. It was a good match for the
grandfather shirt and trouser braces I was wearing.

“
Sorry, no
movie set – this is for real,” I replied.

A London double–decker
bus of the time turned the corner and headed down the street. It
was one of the recently introduced open–topped motor buses, and
passengers couldn’t help noticing the big Russian standing with a
Chinese lady. A young lad on the top deck nudged his friends and
pointed towards us. Niki and I smiled and waved, and began walking
towards the Museum with Smirnoff.

“
I don’t know
how you’ve done this… how have you done this?”

“
Time travel,”
Yoyo and I chorused matter–of–factly. Niki smiled at the
Russian.

“
Time travel?”
he muttered to himself as he accompanied us down the street shaking
his head.

From the outside, the
British Museum seemed to have changed little from the one we knew
and loved in our day. Or, I should say, our museum has changed
little since 1902. On the inside, it looked very different – with
exhibits in other places from what we were used to. What we were
really interested in, however, was not the exhibits – it was the
Reading Room. This was constructed in the previously empty central
courtyard of the Museum. It was, in effect, a library, with plenty
of spaces for reading, study and research. Anyone wishing to use
the Reading Room had to apply in writing for a readers’ ticket.
Among those granted a ticket were novelists Bram Stoker (author of
Dracula), Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (who penned Sherlock Holmes, of
course), and the person we wanted Smirnoff to meet.

We stood at the entrance
to the Reading room. We weren’t allowed in without a ticket, but we
could look through the glass windows of the double doors. There,
studying the volume of a large book, seated alone on one side of
the large, circular room was a familiar–looking figure.

“
Smirnoff,” I
whispered to the big man, “see that gentleman over there – the
small guy with the receding hair and pointed beard… does he seem
familiar to you?” The Russian squinted through the
glass.

“
I don’t know…
it could be anybody. I know who he
looks
like… but that’s not
possible.”

Just then, a large clock
struck twelve o’clock, and several people – including the man under
our surveillance – packed their things and moved towards the
entrance to the room, where we were standing. As the small, dark
haired man exited, Niki approached him.