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3 April 2022
Livia
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After what felt like an interminable wait, Owain introduced David, who left off conferring with Amelia and Chad to walk onstage. The moment he appeared, everyone in the audience stood and clapped. A whole faction sitting on the right side of the stands was composed of women who appeared to be screaming, as if David were the Beatles, U2, and Jesus Christ rolled into one. Several women in the front row were even crying.
Under the cover of the crowd, Michael leaned in to whisper to Livia, “Can you believe this?”
She could.
She hadn’t known David very long, but she too had been disarmed by his sincerity, sense of justice, and his sheer wattage when it came to intelligence. She’d vouched for him to the Director-General, who probably thought she had a crush on him like the rest of the planet. At one time, she might have fallen for him hard, but she’d been around the block a time or two since university. Even in their short acquaintance, she could tell he would be an intense person to live with. His wife, Lili, had her hands full.
That didn’t mean, however, David wasn’t one of the most impressive people she’d ever met. He’d told her early on that he’d been treated like a kid every other time he’d come to Avalon, so he was genuinely surprised at the outpouring of attention and respect—and in the case of the women in the audience, love—that had been directed at him since he’d arrived this time.
And truthfully, her approach to him at the start of this assignment was hardly better than the agents who’d interacted with him on previous trips. While she’d resolved to treat him like a human being, which Five up until that time had not been doing, in retrospect, her initial attitude had been a bit patronizing. Even if Director-General Philips was determined to rectify the mistakes of the past, the unspoken subtext had been exactly as David had feared: He is an uneducated twenty-five-year-old American kid. We’ll humor him, convince him that working with us is the way to go, and make him think we really believe he is the King of England. But we know better, don’t we? Wink, wink.
David finally made it to his seat, but the moment he sat, he sank down so his head was a good foot lower than where Owain was sitting at his desk, and Livia’s heart sank with him. The seating was one of the things Chad had tried to arrange in advance. Owain himself was no more than five foot eight, so Livia could understand him not wanting to stand during the interview and spend the whole time looking up at David, but this was going too far in the opposite direction.
While many tall women attempted to hide their height, wearing flat shoes and slouching, Livia had taught herself not to. If some men didn’t like the fact that she could look them in the eye (and there’d been plenty), that was their problem. She was pleased that Michael appeared not to care. It was refreshing to spend time with a man who was different and unfazed by that difference. To Livia’s eyes, few attributes in a man were sexier than the quiet competence and confidence he exhibited.
For a moment after David sank into the sofa, Owain looked away, towards where Chad stood a few feet from Livia. In that split-second, Owain’s eyes crinkled in the corners, and his mouth twitched wider in an extra bit of smile. It told Livia that Owain knew exactly what he’d done, and he was pleased it had turned out the way he’d planned. Livia had the distinct impression that it wasn’t David whom Owain wanted to put one over on so much as Chad.
Livia nodded. A person had to be confident to allow another to appear superior in any way. Some people thought everything was about money, power, and hierarchy. Livia didn’t share that opinion. She was pretty sure by now that Michael didn’t either. But she understood that many people did. As with the heels, she used their insecurity to her advantage.
Beside her, however, Michael ground his teeth, irate on David’s behalf. “It’s insulting.”
“Sure, but David is a big boy. His best bet is to play along as if he hasn’t noticed, and even if he did, that it doesn’t matter—and look, he’s doing it.”
Beside her, Michael relaxed and nodded.
While she hadn’t known Michael long, she’d worked out in the first ten minutes that he had a very sane view of the world. He didn’t wear rose-colored glasses, but neither was he cynical. He saw what was happening and accepted it. As did David, which was maybe why the two men got along so well. And in this case, it wasn’t as if David could walk out in response. He was committed to going through with the interview, whatever the circumstances or the outcome.
Chad stepped closer to Michael and Livia, far less accepting. “I don’t like that Owain saw fit to break our deal in the first few seconds of the interview. I’d like to know what else he’s done.” The deal in question was that, in exchange for Chad himself not running the interview or using his own film crew, Owain would be honest with David and not turn the interview into an ambush.
Michael’s brow furrowed. “Owain wouldn’t actually try to harm David in front of the entire world.” He paused. “Would he?”
“I can’t see how he even could, but he is going to try to get the better of him—in order to get at me. I hadn’t realized I was the problem, or I would have taken myself out of the equation.”
That was exactly what Livia had been thinking, and it was a more insightful observation than she would have given Chad credit for a moment ago. She reminded herself that Chad was more than an awkward nerd. He looked like a nerd, with nondescript brown hair, blue eyes, short stature, and an unathletic build, but he was also the founder and CEO of one of the largest corporations on the planet. When she’d been introduced to him, he’d taken in her appearance and height with a glance, and then, like Michael, hadn’t given them a second thought. It occurred to her that he might also use his appearance as a mask, just like she did, but in the opposite direction, to disarm and de-escalate. And then to get the better of his competitors.
It was food for thought. Meanwhile, Chad chewed nervously on his lower lip. “I should have put this off a few more days to prep him better.”
Michael shook his head. “Sunday night is the night for interviews, and we couldn’t have held off the reporters much longer. They subsided for as long as they did only because of the promise of tonight.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Livia glanced at the gaggle of them, clogging the entire space to the right of the stands, as well as the darkness beyond. Chad had set up giant screens so they could watch what was occurring onstage without encroaching any more than they already were on the actual audience. Owain had agreed not to allow the reporters to ask any questions. Besides, it suited his ego to be the only one with that authority.
“I don’t think you could have held off David much longer either,” Livia added. “It’s only because William was injured that David agreed to stay here until today.”
Chad grinned. “You know those charities that pay for a dying person’s last wish, which is often to have dinner with their favorite celebrity? It’s pretty cool that I got my wish. Now I can die happy.”
“Wait ... what? Sir?” Michael gazed open-mouthed at Chad.
The Treadman Global CEO flapped a hand at him, shushing him since Owain had finally managed to get the audience to quiet. “Don’t worry. A figure of speech. Not dying yet.”
As the last of the crying women seemed to gain control of herself, Owain straightened in his office chair and faced the central camera. “Welcome to the Owain Williams show. Thank you for being with us, and special thanks to David ap Llywelyn for being here tonight.” He pronounced the Welsh ll correctly, not surprising since the whole point of having him do the interview was that he was Welsh.
Michael, however, gave a little snort, prompting a smile from Livia. He’d been part of Chad’s retinue for all of three days, but already his language skills were legendary among the rest of the staff. He’d admitted to her, after some prodding on her part, that he spoke with some fluency Urdu, Pashto, Punjabi, Arabic, German, and French (which meant Italian and Spanish too, of course), in addition to English. But he hadn’t yet mastered the ll in Welsh.
David bent his head. “My pleasure. Happy to be here.”
Beyond Livia, Amelia breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s sticking to the script.”
“First off, how is William doing—that’s the name of your friend, isn’t it?” Owain said. “I understand he arrived with an injury. A crossbow bolt, was it?”
“Yes. He is healing. Thank you for asking. And thanks especially to the staff at Ysbyty Gwynedd in Bangor. Because of them, William should be fine.” David lifted his chin to indicate the opposite wing of the stage, effectively where Livia and the others were standing. “He was well enough to come tonight.”
William, in fact, had spent the last half-hour chatting in a mix of French and English with the young woman, Alex, Chad had acquired to help him negotiate the modern world. On occasion, William managed to convey what he meant with startling clarity, including his favorite phrase, you’ve got to be kidding me! said with a perfect American accent, which the American members of Chad’s staff thought hilarious.
Now, while Alex hung back, William moved to stand next to Amelia so they made up a row of observers: William, Amelia, Livia, Michael, and Chad.
Livia remembered something she’d read at university about how it would be possible to dress up a Cro Magnon man in a suit, and he would be indistinguishable from a modern person. Why she had thought medieval people might look a bit different she didn’t know, but William, in his charcoal-gray suit with a subdued black sling for his arm, was any young woman’s dream date. David was only twenty-five, but he seemed to attract a slightly older set.
William was also an example of a lesson Livia had learned the hard way, growing up as she had in a household in which non-native English people were resented: that just because someone needed help didn’t make them either helpless or not worth helping. Thinking back to her interactions with Anna two weeks ago, Livia was relieved to recall that she had treated Anna with respect, but as with people who didn’t speak English, it was difficult sometimes to remember that Anna’s ignorance of current technology and events didn’t mean she didn’t know other things.
With a sidelong glance at Michael, Livia guessed that, given his background, he’d learned that lesson too, at a far earlier age. She’d read his file. While Michael was concerned that Chad’s organization hadn’t properly vetted everyone who was currently in this warehouse, Five had done its job with him.
Owain launched into a series of questions about David’s family. He particularly wanted to hear the story of how David and Lili had met and married. These were easy questions for David to answer, and both David on his couch and Amelia beside Livia appeared to be feeling more confident.
Then Owain said, “So, if I understand correctly, you were last here during the bombing of Caernarfon Castle.”
“Yes.”
Owain motioned towards a large screen set up behind him. “We’ll get to that later, since we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let me just say, for our audience, that you claim to be the King of England in an alternate universe. Do I have that right?”
David canted his head. “It isn’t something I claim to be. I am the King of England in an alternate universe.”
Amelia had been firm on this point, and Livia nearly laughed at the look of consternation that crossed Owain’s face. Then he mustered a smile, and his expression turned calculating.
“Uh oh,” Livia said.
“Why?” Michael said. “I thought that was what he was supposed to say?”
“He was,” Chad said. “He needed to say just what he said, but it’s going to be trouble.”
Amelia, who was standing with her hands clasped before her lips, looking pensive, nodded.
Michael shifted from one foot to the other and folded his arms across his chest. Livia didn’t know if he intended to look intimidating, but he was glaring at Owain, and folding his arms had the effect of bulging the muscles in his biceps, threatening to split his new suit.
While Owain was turned away and didn’t notice—and might have been happy if he had noticed—David’s couch was positioned so he faced them. Livia nudged Michael, who glanced at her. She mouthed the word relax and tipped her head in David’s direction. Fortunately, David at that moment had been looking at Amelia, who smiled at him. Belatedly, Michael gave David a thumbs-up sign.
Then Owain showed the clip of David’s arrival at Beaumaris. “You seem to appear out of nowhere.”
“Yes.”
Owain waited a beat, and Livia had to stifle a laugh that David wasn’t endeavoring to be more helpful.
To the surprise of none of them, Owain’s next question was deliberately antagonistic: “I’m sure our viewers are wanting to know if you and this alternate world pose a threat to those of us in this world. How do you respond to that?”
“I would hope it doesn’t. I have worked with scientists over the years in both the private and public sector in hopes of finding the truth. We have no evidence that it is doing damage.”
“But none that it isn’t.”
“It isn’t. You can’t prove a negative,” Chad said, under his breath. “You’re an idiot.”
But Livia knew the question was one—or soon would be one—that more people would be asking. Amanda Crichton, MI-5’s head of Internal Affairs, had put forth the very same idea in the middle of a high-level meeting at Thames House on Friday. The problem was that it wasn’t just David time traveling. It was his whole family. Even David’s son Arthur had done it. Likely Anna’s two boys and Meg’s twins could as well. Now that the CIA had shared its information—or most of it—with Five, and the Time Travel Initiative was being reconstructed, the dossier on David and his family took up an entire server.
That Amanda had been fired before the end of the meeting didn’t change the fact that she’d asked the question. With three generations of British people having been teethed on Dr. Who, a fact pointed out by a fellow director, Grant Dempsey, it wouldn’t be long before it would be unusual not to worry about the damage David’s world shifting was doing to the fabric of reality.
But, to everyone’s relief, the moment of contention passed and ultimately concluded with Owain conceding that David was actually the King of England. Everyone in the wings thought that was a significant victory until Owain said, “Have you killed people?”
Livia felt the sudden fire rise in Michael at the question. He started forward, but he managed only a single step before Livia caught his arm, as did Chad and Amelia, and together the three of them hauled him back.
Chad gripped Michael’s arm. “It’s okay. Let David handle it.”
Livia could see Michael struggling to contain his emotions. She had never been a soldier herself, but MI-5 was full of ex-soldiers, she’d been in the field, and she’d spent time on a military base. The question Owain had asked was one of the greatest barriers to reacclimating to civilian life. Michael, like David, had killed for his country. It was in his bones and always would be. And from Michael’s dossier, it had taken him two years of therapy, which hadn’t been his cup of tea at all, to realize it didn’t define who he was. She was pretty sure she was never going to tell him Five had acquired his medical records, and she had read them.
He was hardly the first former military person to struggle since returning home, and she recalled an offhand comment David had made that very morning about how every single one of his confidants and friends in Earth Two had one form of PTSD or another. How could they not? had been Livia’s response.
But, as Livia’s own counselor had told her after the dreadful fiasco that had been her previous assignment in the Balkans, one didn’t have to let trauma define oneself. That was the essence of what David was objecting to now about Owain’s question, canting his head and pausing long enough to let everyone know he didn’t approve.
“The answer, of course, is yes, though I wonder at your decision to ask me that. The fact that I’ve fought in battle puts me apart, doesn’t it? I’m outside polite company. It’s one of the reasons soldiers don’t talk about their experiences in war except with each other.”
David’s answer had Michael subsiding completely, though his arms were again folded rigidly across his chest. David glanced in their direction again, for approval and support, Livia thought. All five of them responded with an encouraging nod, which prompted a wisp of a grin from David.
Then he looked at his audience. A few people had gasped at Owain’s question, moving firmly to David’s point of view if they hadn’t been there already. All of a sudden, David stood abruptly and walked to the edge of the stage.
The movement had Amelia gasping slightly, and Chad said dryly. “You’re the one who told him to improvise.”
“I know. I know.”
Now it was Livia’s turn to shush them, so she could listen to David talk about his vision for the universe. When he had the entire audience in the palm of his hand, including Owain Williams, David gestured towards the wings, and William stepped forward in response to what to him must have been a command. As David had done, he walked across the stage calmly, raising a hand to the audience and smiling. Livia had been among the people earlier with whom William had practiced shaking hands in what David called a ‘manly’ fashion—firmly without squeezing or a contest of wills, gripping with the full hand, rather than limply with just fingers.
Livia had been happy to defy William’s expectations about what handshaking was. In his world, men did it. Women were bowed to—or likely ignored, since he was a member of the nobility.
William shook hands with Owain and then with David, though with him it was the medieval way, gripping each other’s forearms. And then for the next ten minutes, David and William posed for the audience, still shaking hands and grinning, allowing people to take picture after picture of them. It went on too long, but nobody appeared tired of either the pictures or the applause. David’s eyes strayed towards the wings, and Livia could see the desperation there, but she couldn’t help him. Instead, she smiled and applauded with the rest.
Chad, however, when Livia turned to him to ask what was supposed to happen next, was focused on the rafters, and his lips were pursed. Livia looked too, but the lights were so blinding, she couldn’t see anything beyond them. Chad made a gesture with one hand, which Livia interpreted as a signal—but to Michael or to her or to someone in the audience, she couldn’t say. And before she could ask what was bothering him, a gunman on the catwalk above them opened fire with an automatic weapon. The bullets chewed up the area in front of the stage and the steps up to it.
And between one second and the next, David and William vanished.
