Hotel Russell, London
August 30, 1933 CE
Nathan squirmed on the too-soft mattress. Nell had set him up in this palatial suite at the Hotel Russell six hours ago. She said she'd be "right back," so where was she?
The ornate, dark oak paneling, filigreed Persian carpet, and heavy, Victorian furnishings just added to his sense of doom. According to Nell, the architect had used the same designs for the interiors of the Titanic. Like that was supposed to make him feel better about being cooped up here.
He stood and stared out the window. The morning sunshine had turned to drizzle that misted the view of Russell Square and the traffic bustling along Southampton Row in front of the hotel. The traffic light changed, and cars halted while pedestrians flowed across the street, like photons through fiber optic cable.
A discreet knock at the door made him turn away from the dreary view. "Yes?"
A female voice answered, "Room service, sir."
He frowned. He hadn't ordered anything. Maybe Nell had gotten something for him? "Just a second." He thought about putting his shoes and socks back on, then shrugged and padded to the door.
"What do you—" He stopped at the sight of the woman outside.
She pushed her way into the room and closed the door.
"What the hell are you doing here?" She looked different, but the pasty complexion and the sour, disapproving expression were unmistakable. It was Corbett.
"Saving your sorry ass again, it would appear." She fingered the device that dangled from her neck. It looked like a miniature iPhone. "Time to go."
"I'm not going anywhere with you. You lied to me."
"You mean about the Academy? I didn't say when I would take you there, did I?"
"You implied Haakon was dead. He's not." Could she be a bigger asshole? Or more cruel?
That seemed to startle her a bit. "Oh. Yes. Sorry about that. It depends on the timeline, of course. I thought you were smart. Guess not."
Nathan's face heated, and he snapped, "I am smart. Stop playing with me."
She made a disapproving little "oh" with her mouth and rolled her eyes. "Look, in about five minutes your friend Claude is going to come through that door to take you to exile at Chicxulub. Unless you want to disappear to sixty million years ago, you'll come with me."
"I don't trust you."
She shrugged. "Come. Don't come. Maybe this is the timeline where you and Haakon never reconnect. No skin off me." She touched digital settings on her Timepiece. "Make up your mind."
A fist pounded at the door. Claude's hoarse voice shouted, "Nathan. Let me in. They're coming for you."
Shit. Corbett or Claude? The frying pan or the fire? He firmed his lips. "Get me out of here."
She opened her arms and he let her embrace him. He heaved a sigh in preparation for jump jeebies and inhaled the scent of lilac and lavender. He thought of his grandmother, years ago and years in the future.
Cold light shimmered and whirled about them. Needles prickled his skin, and an electric tingle surged through his limbs and twisted his belly. White hot pain exploded in his brain, just behind his eyeballs, and his vision narrowed to a cylinder of light, then to a pinpoint.
In an instant it was over, and he sagged into her spindly arms. "Gawd, that was awful." He swallowed the saliva that flooded his mouth, praying to not hurl. "I thought I was getting used to this."
"We jumped thirteen million years. That's a lot, even for me." Her grip on him loosened, but he leaned into her in order to not fall. "It's all right," she murmured. "I've got you. Take as long as you need." Somehow her voice was gentler. Almost kind. She stroked his hair and let him rest his head on her withered bosom.
They stood on a gray carpet, in a gray room, perhaps ten meters on a side. Indirect lighting shone from where the walls met the ceiling. The only feature was a crisp, white metal door centered on the wall facing him. "Where are we?"
"Southwest Nevada. Or what will be southwest Nevada, after a bit of mountain building." She eased her grip on him. "Feeling better?"
He lifted his head and glared at her. "Some, thanks. Next you'll be telling me we're at Area 51."
"Don't be silly." She smirked. "Astute of you, though. We're not far from where that will eventually be."
"So instead of aliens, you're telling me they have friggin' time travelers at Area 51?" He didn't believe it.
She sniffed. "I told you to not be silly. Of course there are aliens there. At least, in my timeline."
He pulled away and tried to rub the headache out of his eyes. "I don't believe that, either. I told you. Stop messing with me."
"Threaded timelines are your idea, not mine." She was all business again. Like flipping a switch. "If you're better, they're waiting for us."
"Who's waiting for us?"
"The committee. You'll see soon enough." She opened the door, revealing a wide corridor, dark and featureless, leading away from the room.
He peered into the empty distance. "Where's that go?"
"To the conference room, of course. Follow me." She stepped into the corridor where overhead lights flickered on, illuminating the first twenty meters or so.
"Dammit, stop." He wanted answers.
She ignored him and kept walking. The first set of lights faded, and another set flashed to life, illuminating the next twenty meters.
Her message was clear enough. If he wanted answers, he'd have to follow her. He cussed under his breath, swallowed his anger, and trotted to catch up. The floor was cold against his bare feet. He wished he'd stopped to put on shoes.
When he drew abreast of her, she didn't speak. Didn't acknowledge him at all. Screw her. Two could play at that game.
Fifteen minutes of silence later, he was beginning to wonder if this corridor had an ending. He wanted to throttle her and squeeze answers out of that smug throat, but something told him she'd just sneer at him. Or more likely zap him with some unseen weapon and continue walking.
Five minutes later, a faint glimmer flickered in distance instead of relentless dark. A couple of minutes after that, and he was sure. Whatever was ahead, it looked like a well-lit room.
When they finally got there, it was kind of disappointing. Snow white sofas and chairs, each with exposed chrome frames, sat in bright conversation groups. Area rugs with brilliant white and red geometric patterns covered the polished concrete floors, and fresh flowers sat in crystal vases scattered here and there on glass end tables. The lighting came from where the walls met the ceilings, like in the room where they'd arrived.
"Charming." He toed the furniture. "Who thought of putting a sofa in a cage?"
She gave him another of those annoying smiles. "Corbusier, of course. Don't you know anything except physics?"
He'd had about all he could take. "Can you answer a question without being insulting? Or is that your superpower?"
For some reason, sadness dragged at her features. "Sometimes I wish for superpowers. Even one so mundane as that one. Alas, I'm all too human."
Nathan tried to stay mad at her, but then remembered she'd saved his life. She'd been nasty about it, but she didn't have to save him. She'd even come to the past specifically to rescue him, at great peril to herself. Maybe her superpower was acting like a jerk when she was really human, or even humane. "Well, where are we? Where are all the people? This place is big enough to hold fifty or more."
"It's designed for double that number to be comfortable. It's not used very often, though."
"Given the long walk to get here, I'm not surprised."
"There are more...direct...routes." A quick smile flashed across her features before they froze to stone again. "Come. They are waiting for you." She took off for the opposite wall, where double doors awaited.
Nathan scratched behind his ear and followed. Damned if she wasn't the strangest person he'd ever met.
The doors opened, and the first thing Nathan noticed was the view. Fat snowflakes floated on the other side of a floor-to-ceiling window. Craggy granite cliffs rose in the near distance, frosted with ice and snow. A low-hanging gray overcast couldn't hide the breathtaking beauty of the vista.
A cough drew his eyes back to the room. A dozen faces stared at him from around a teak conference table. The homey scent of coffee filled his nostrils. He turned to ask Corbett if this was the committee he was supposed to meet, but she was already backing out of the room and closing the door.
An imperious female voice spoke. "Mr. Hilbert."
He turned back to those in the room, and ice gripped his core. Some of the faces were human. But others! The swarthy bald one, with heavy ridges where eyebrows should be and a sloping forehead was like a caricature of a human. The one next to him, with elfin features and pointy ears could have been a character in a Tolkien novel. Another was impossibly tall, with flowing white hair and tiny, cold features.
Lord of Chaos. Corbett said there were aliens in her timeline. He still didn't believe it. Maybe these were costumes.
"Not costumes, Mr. Hilbert." That voice again. A woman at the head of the table stood and motioned him to sit.
Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it. Had she read his mind?
"Not exactly," she answered his unspoken question. "Please. Sit. We have much to discuss."
Even with her short, business-like hairdo, no makeup, and simple black dress, Nathan recognized her. This was Haversham, an older version, to be sure, but she was unmistakable. Whatever she wanted, it couldn't be good. Nell's words to him echoed in his mind. "By the prickling of my thumbs, something evil this way comes."