Touchstone (Meridian Series) (21 page)

       “Then
you know of it?” Nordhausen was getting somewhat agitated.

       “Yes,
I know of it: the discovery that leads to the decipherment of the
hieroglyphics.”

       “How
strange,” Nordhausen started, then caught himself. “But that makes sense.
You’ve been here since Napoleon landed. The variation shouldn’t have had any
effect on your recollection. Can you read them?” The professor’s cheeks bore
the heat of his excitement now.

       “Read
them? No. I was never that astute. I’ll leave that to the linguists. It’s just
my job to keep watch here and look in on situations that might be… problematic.
The last courier told me we got a variation alarm on the incident, and so now I
have to be especially vigilant. Our touchstone bank indicated we were missing
some vital data, and that’s enough to get alert flags flying all across the
continuum.”

       Maeve smiled. “I see Kelly’s RAM bank idea took
hold.”

       “Mr.
Ramer? Oh my, there’s another genius. Why, if not for him the whole course of
history would play out differently. He’s a
Prima Majór
, that’s what we
call the really indispensable figures of history. It all comes from him, you
see. Yes, Mr. Dorland was the initiator, and both of you are absolutely vital
to the whole endeavor as well, but Mr. Ramer is the real lynchpin. It all
rested on his shoulders. The Ramer Loop, the RAM bank as you call it, all came
out of his head, and he set the template down that guides our operations even
now. Why, without him it never even happens. In fact—it was never
supposed
to happen. It was his life that gave birth to this entire
Meridian
, and everything in it.”

       Maeve
had an admiring smile on her face. “You’re speaking of that first night now,
aren’t you. You’re associated with Mr. Graves, and the people who sent him back
the night of the
Palma
event.”

       “Of
course,” said LeGrand. “
Graves
was one of our Grand Masters. His research
identified Mr. Ramer as the key to the whole operation. We had to preserve his
integrity in the
Meridian
, or else none of this would have ever taken
place.”

       Nordhausen
seemed deep in thought. “I’m not entirely sure I understand you,” he said.
“You’re speaking of the final briefing on Memorial Day weekend before our
planned mission to see
The
Tempest.
”

       “A
fateful night, if I may say so,” LeGrand confirmed.

       “Well…
I may be a dolt when it comes to this time theory but, if I understand it
correctly, Kelly was supposed to die that night—sorry Maeve.” He noticed the
twinge in her face as he said that. “Kelly was to be killed in a senseless car
accident, and we never
had
our first time mission. What I don’t
understand is this: if that is so, then how was it you were able to send Mr.
Graves back? If we never tested the theory, how did you travel in time? Is that
a Paradox?”

       “Paradox?”
LeGrand’s jovial expression darkened at the word, and he cast a reflexive
glance at the window. “No, that is not what we understand Paradox to be, but
let us not speak of that just now. On the other hand… we
are
in a Nexus
Point, and that does give us a bit of latitude
until it resolves. I may be taking a risk in saying this but—“

       “You
found our research.” Maeve interrupted, matter of factly, and LeGrand breathed
a sigh of relief.

       “Yes!
Exactly! Now that you’ve hit upon the answer yourself, I can explain the whole,
if you like. You are quite shrewd, Miss Lindford. I should never underestimate
you, my lady.”

       Maeve
smiled. “Do go on, Doctor LeGrand.”

       “Of
course. To put it plainly,
Palma
happened
… Yes, I lived in that
generation—the last generation of Western sires, or so we thought. We were
desperate. The wave sets that destroyed the Eastern Seaboard set off a chain of
events that would make your
Hollywood
movie moguls quite jealous. Suffice it to
say that we were at our wit’s end, until we found Mr. Dorland’s research in the
memorial site for Mr. Ramer. It was
Graves
who found it. That’s not his real name, but
we have called him that because of his discovery at the cemetery. He hit on the
idea that time travel was a possibility, and he was digging into every avenue
of research on the subject he could find. Imagine his surprise when he
literally dug up the whole of Mr. Dorland’s theory and project data where you
had buried it with Mr. Ramer that first terrible week.”

       “Buried
it?” Nordhausen looked at Maeve, as if she had something to do with the events
LeGrand was describing.

       “That
is what you did—in the previous Meridian—the original time line we now call the
Prime Meridian. Mr. Ramer died that night and the grief was too heavy on the
three of you to continue the project. It was buried, along with your friend’s
body, and the whole matter was laid to rest. Then you all went about the
business of trying to survive the horrors that followed. I will not speak any
further of that…” His voice trailed off, his eyes now devoid of the mirthful
light that had animated them before. LeGrand leaned in, speaking in a near
whisper as he continued.

       “So
it was all found in a graveyard, buried for centuries, and
Graves
has borne that name with us ever since. He argued that we should attempt the
project. We used all your research, and built an Arch with the last of our
resources. It was very dangerous for us, you understand. The world bore little
resemblance to the days of Western dominance and the reign of Democracy. Sharia
was the order of the day. Islam ruled the earth with an iron fist of Koranic
discipline. Christianity was all but eradicated. A few of us banded together,
in secret, a hidden order struggling to survive in a world where the crucifix
was deemed a blasphemy and a certain death mark for any who carried one.”

       “Amazing,”
said Nordhausen.

       “Truly.
But Mr. Graves was our own reincarnation of the savior, if I may speak
metaphorically. He tested the Arch and found it would work. He created the
Order in which we all now serve, and it was his research and determination that
set us on a crusade to reverse
Palma
. It took us years to isolate the vectors
and define a plan. The whole project was nearly uncovered three times by the
Islamic Fedayeen, but, by some miracle, we preserved our cover. It was
Palma
…
that was the key. But we could not get through the shadow that event cast upon
the Prime
Meridian
. Then
Graves
had his second epiphany. There was a fully
functioning Arch in place
before
Palma
. We did not have to go back through the
Shadow to a time well before to the target date to try and alter the event. If
we could just reach the Arch in
Berkeley
, on the night of your final briefing, then
we could take action from there, or at least enlist your support. The shadow
was not yet formed. It offered us our only prospect for success.”

       “Well,”
said Nordhausen, “we were certainly happy to be of service but, quite frankly,
I can’t think of a single thing we did on that mission to change the course of
events. Paul will say the same.”

       “Oh
really?” LeGrand raised his eyebrows. “Here I was hoping you could enlighten me
a bit on that question.”

       “Sorry,”
said Nordhausen. “We were just stumbling about, trying to find our way through
the desert. The whole matter was nothing more than a fit of chance, I suppose.
We never even laid eyes on this man we were looking for.” He looked at Maeve,
the name escaping him.

       “Masaui,”
she offered.

       “Yes,”
said Robert. “Perhaps you could answer one other thing for me, Doctor: What was
it that was so special about that man?”

       “Masaui?”
LeGrand tilted his head to one side, thinking. “Well, nothing, really. He was
just a simple farmer and herder of sheep, from a humdrum village in the middle
of Turkish occupied nowhere. But you see, that’s exactly the sort you have to
look out for. He was the seed of our disaster, to be sure. Oh, it wasn’t
Masaui, but his daughter
Ada
. She was the real problem. If Masaui lived
out that train ride, then he goes on to have a daughter,
Ada
,
born some years after the war, in 1922. She was a particularly fetching lady,
it seems, and caught the eye of an Arab Emir, one Abu Abas al Sabar. They
married in 1942, right in the middle of the second great war, and they had a
daughter
instead of a son. Now the grand terrorist, Ra’id Husan al Din, was
supposed
to be born of this Emir but, after the outcome at Minifir was altered, he never
comes into being. In the Prime Meridian, time line that led to
Palma
,
the Emir married… someone else.
That
was the marriage that gave birth to
the terrorist, but it was prevented by the beauty and simplicity of Masaui’s
daughter,
Ada
. Once the Emir laid eyes on her, he would
have no other woman. Call it love, call it obsession—but whatever it was, it
saves the Western world.”

       Nordhausen
leaned in, somewhat excited. “Then by preventing the destruction of that train,
we spared Masaui’s life and allowed his daughter
Ada
to be
born?”

       “That’s
about the size of it,” LeGrand smiled.

       “And
the rest is history,” Maeve quipped. “At least the history that we know.”

       “Precisely!”
LeGrand beamed with admiration. “Saving Mr. Ramer’s life changed everything. He
is regarded as the Dean of the Prime Meridian—possibly the most significant
life line of any man ever born in the Western world.”

       “Well,”
said Nordhausen, “he very nearly died at the end of that mission. I understand
you people had something to do with his survival.”

       “Oh
yes,” LeGrand returned. “That’s where Paradox takes shape,  a ravenous beast
that devours anything that it cannot account for on the newly transformed
Meridian
. We exerted ourselves mightily to save his life—to preserve
his integrity. Thankfully, we succeeded.”

       “I
see,” said Nordhausen. “Then you had nothing to do with the tampering of the
memorial site where we thought to bury Kelly after he vanished?”

       “Tampering?
What are you speaking of?”

       “We
buried a video that led to your discovery of the exact spatial and temporal
coordinates of Kelly’s last moments.” Again, he looked at Maeve, somewhat
apologetically.

       “It
was
Graves
who found it—just another ripple from his
original discovery, I suppose. His retraction was a timed event. We pulled him
out to preserve the
Meridian
of his own life.”

       “Yes,”
said Maeve. “I was just about to serve him tea when he turned up missing.”

       “We
pulled him out,” LeGrand reiterated with a look of pride. “Amazingly, the
moment he returned he went straight to the memorial site and found the DVD that
Mr. Dorland buried there. Time has a funny way of echoing like that when things
change. Do you know that the memorial site you chose was identical to the place
you first laid Mr. Ramer to rest in the Prime
Meridian
?”

       “History
does not repeat itself,” Nordhausen quipped, “but it does rhyme.”

       LeGrand
smiled, then a squall of concern clouded his features. Maeve was watching him
closely now, an odd expression on her face, as though she were coming to a
silent inner conclusion about him.

       “But
what is this tampering you speak of?” LeGrand went on. “Are you saying the site
was violated?”

       Nordhausen
took a deep breath. “Three days ago Kelly was taken ill—a strange malady. I
thought it was my fault at first. I was… doing some research; following up a
hunch. Then Paul and I uncovered evidence of tampering at Kelly’s memorial
site. Someone dug up the grave and stole the video!”

       “What?”
Now it was LeGrand who was struck with wide eyed amazement.

       “Yes,
but it was only fortune or good habits that Paul had a backup file on hand, and
we published it all over the Internet. Kelly recovered, but we aren’t quite
sure about him.” He looked at Maeve again, but she held up a hand to reassure
him that all was well. Her eyes were fixed on LeGrand, a look of suspicion
clouding her features now. Then she took the baton herself.

       “We
think his life is in jeopardy again,” she said flatly. “We think someone is
trying to kill him.”

       “Good
God…” the look on LeGrand’s face made it plain that he knew nothing about the
incident. His eyes darkened, and he began to fidget, his hands rubbing together
in a nervous activity. “I haven’t heard any of this. The courier said nothing
whatsoever about it. If this is true, then we have more on the table here with
your arrival than I first thought. This could be a Deep Nexus now; a moment of
transformation. We may all have a vital part in deciding things before your
mission is over. I was told to be on alert, but I don’t think the Order knows
how serious this is. How long are you here?” He asked the question quickly,
with a sudden sharpness of mind that set them on edge.