Palm House, Kew Gardens, London
August 30, 1933 CE
Palm trees, oppressive humidity, and the pungent aromas of soil and decaying vegetation reminded Haakon of the jungles around Angkor Wat. All around him, the overly-ornamented wrought-iron structure of Palm House screamed Victorian design. The glass walls soared to a metal grid supporting a vast, transparent ceiling that seemed to touch the clouds. Leo strolled next to Corbett, his head turning from side to side, taking in the botanical wonders. Corbett chomped on her gum with a vacant expression on her face.
Leo chattered away—something about his plans for the week. Haakon half listened, while keeping an eye out for Russians.
Leo stopped to polish his glasses and said, "There's a lecture coming up I want to attend. It's by Earnest Rutherford. He won the Nobel Prize, you know, for his work on radioactive decay."
Corbett worked her gum. "A lecture? Sounds boring."
"Oh, but it's not. Dr. Rutherford is the world's expert on radiation. Speaking of radiation, I read the most interesting novel last year on that topic. It's by Mr. Wells, H.G. Wells. In his novel, an English scientist uses Albert's, I mean Dr. Einstein's, maths to achieve the alchemist dream of turning lead into gold. He also uses it to make something called an atomic bomb."
That got Haakon's attention. "An atomic bomb? What's that?" More to the point, what did Leo already know?
"It would be an extremely powerful device, if it existed. Equivalent to thousands of tons of TNT. Mr. Wells is quite prescient."
Haakon forced skepticism into his voice. "Tons you say?"
"Certainly. Mr. Wells got that part right, although the rest of his science is," he hesitated, as if searching for a word. "Balderdash. I think that's the right word for nonsense."
Haakon nodded. "The whole thing sounds like nonsense."
"Oh, but it's not. I've been thinking about the fission problem myself." He paused to nod and smile at a passerby on the narrow walkway. "It's interesting. Lots of coincidences, in fact. In Mr. Wells' novel, the physicist makes his discovery this very year, in Bloomsbury, right where we're staying. The similarities don't stop there. His scientist was born the year that Roentgen discovered X-rays, and I was born three years later when Madam Curie discovered radium. Who knows? Maybe I'll solve the nuclear fission problem while I'm in Bloomsbury, just like the physicist in the novel."
Haakon nodded. "That would be a coincidence, for sure." Too freaky to be a coincidence, in fact, as far as Haakon was concerned.
Corbett chewed her gum and said nothing.
They walked in silence along the narrow metal pathway for a few minutes, before encountering an isolated tree with a plaque mounted in front of it. Leo stopped to read. When he was finished, he pushed his glasses on his nose and beamed at them. "This is apparently a rare tree. And it's a male tree. Who knew plants had a gender."
Corbett scanned it from roots to leaves. "Looks like a giant feather duster to me."
A middle-aged couple wandered by, muttering apologies as they passed. Haakon eyed them but didn't spot weapons or anything suspicious.
Leo continued, "According to this, they've never found the female version of the tree. They've used something called 'basal offsets' to grow new specimens."
Corbett stopped her chewing long enough to ask in a flat voice, "How'd they know it was male? Look inside its trousers?" She snorted. "Nothin' but male trees sounds pretty creepy to me. Like some gin joints I've heard of, or that Odd Fellows hall in Harlem. The one with the masquerade ball."
That would be Odd Fellows Lodge 710. Haakon had been to the drag queen ball held there while on assignment in 1929, right after the crash. Amazing she knew about it, unless she'd been assigned to the era, too.
Leo smiled and played professor. "I wouldn't know about balls. But it says here that cycads—palm trees—sprout baby trees, called basal offsets. Botanists use those to grow new trees."
"Baby trees?" Corbett asked. "I thought ya said it was a male tree?"
"It is." Haakon decided that lecturing must be one of Leo's favorite habits, because he continued, "The offsets are the same gender as the parent. But to properly reproduce, from seed pods, it takes a male and a female tree. This says it's the loneliest tree in the world because there are no known female trees left."
"Huh. Imagine that." Corbett's tone showed she wasn't impressed. "Leo, honey, I could sure stand to rest my dogs. Mind if we sit for a while?"
He gave her a puzzled look. "Your dogs?"
"She means her feet," Haakon injected, glad for his lingual implant. "I saw a bench back under the central dome. We could go there."
"Dogs are feet? American is turning out to be an utterly charming language. Confusing, but charming." Leo smiled again, apparently his default expression. "My dear, please feel free to rest if you wish. I apologize if I've tired you."
She grabbed the rail and raised a leg to rub her calf. "It's these damned heels. You go ahead, Leo. Haakon can keep me company while you look at the rest of the palm trees or whatever."
Leo gave a little bow. "You're most gracious, Charlotte. Thank you. I'll meet you back under the dome in a bit."
She watched him putter away and then took Haakon's arm. "Thank god, I thought we'd never get a chance to talk. Walk me back to the dome." She tugged at his arm.
"All right." Haakon let her lead him. "Tell me about this bomb you mentioned. The one at the lecture, not the one Wells wrote about."
She jerked to a stop and looked left and right. "Shut up. Don't you have any idea of security? Don't use that word."
"What word. Bomb? Why shouldn't I say bomb? No one is here." He looked around and waved his free arm. "See. Bomb, bomb, bomb."
"God, you're even more obnoxious than I remembered. They don't have to be on top of us to eavesdrop. There could be a directional mike on us right now, you dunce."
"Now who's using anachronistic language?" Apparently 'insult' was her default mode.
"Just shut up and let me talk." She tugged at his arm again. "It's those damned Russians. They're going to set off a bomb at a lecture by some scientist dude. Earnest Rutherford. Our friend Leo is planning to attend, and we've got to stop him, otherwise he'll get blown to little bitty pieces."
"Why not just stop the bombing? Wouldn’t that be easier?" Haakon asked. He wasn't worried. Clementine had already set her MI5 contacts on the task of rounding up the Russian agents.
"Because it happened, you idiot. That's why."
Haakon frowned. It wasn't going to happen, not if MI5 was as efficient as Clementine said. He tried to remember what Gunnar had told him this morning. Wasn't it some lecture that set off Leo, making him figure out how chain reactions worked? Surely Gunnar would have mentioned something like a bomb if it were involved. So, that meant no bomb went off. Something didn’t smell right. He asked, "What's our goal here? Doesn't Leo have to get the idea for chain reactions from that lecture?"
"What idea are you talking about? That's not why he's important." She stopped at a bench and sat. "We just have to keep him away from that lecture. Even you shouldn't be able to mess up a mission that simple."
Haakon collapsed next to her on the hard, iron surface. Of course. She was from a different timeline. She was part of the Deviation. He kept his face impassive, but the hairs on the back of his head prickled. This was worse than he thought. He wished Nell would show up. He really needed to talk to her.
She gave him a narrow look. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he prevaricated. "I was just longing for my partner, Nell. She was going to meet us here."
"Longing for a female partner? Strange. I had you pegged as a faggot. Like that damned tree back there."
"What?" He couldn't keep his anger out of his tone. So, she was a homophobe on top of all her other charming traits. "She's just my partner. We work together. And what does my being gay have to do with anything?" he snapped.
She shrugged. "Don't get a twist in your knickers, as our friend Quilp would say. After all, you know that the Founders chose faggots for the first Timekeepers, and still prefer them. You guys are supposed to make the best field agents. Not that I've seen any evidence of that."
"What the hell are you talking about, woman?"
"What are you? Stupid? Faggots are perfect for the job. You're not tempted to form dynasties, either on purpose or by accident. No divided loyalties between the mission and offspring." She rolled her eyes. "Sometimes it's like you never went through the Academy, I swear. Maybe you slept through all the parts except PT. You muscle boys are all alike."
Haakon knew that if a field agent wanted to form a family, they were retired to a safe era, but he'd never heard of a policy like the one Corbett just described. On the other hand, there were a lot of gay agents. He'd just figured it was by chance, but Control never discussed recruiting policies. He put it aside for now. Too much else to think about.
He went over in his mind the conversation with Gunnar this morning. He was sure he'd said that Leo read about the lecture in the paper. If that was true, it was probably safe to leave Leo with Corbett for now. If the bombing was critical to her era and they stopped it from happening, she'd just disappear.
"This lecture," he asked. "Why would the Russians want to bomb it?"
She winced. "I told you to not use that word. Who knows why Russians do anything? As near as we can tell, they operate their own People's Time Bureau and do their best to impose their ideology on history. We wind up fighting them all the time." She paused to slip off her high heels and rub her feet. "They've got an active spy ring here in London, building assets for later. Bog knows why they care enough about some scientist to risk blowing their cover." She gave him a quizzical look. "Surely you've run into the Soviet version of Timekeepers before? They're constantly trying to make history line up with Marxism. Idiots."
Soviet Timekeepers? That was a new one. It must be part of the Deviation, along with Corbett. Now that made sense. Maybe the Deviation somehow included two versions of Timekeepers, fighting with each other. Three, if you counted the real version, Haakon's version. So, if they prevented the bombing, maybe they'd end the Deviation. Corbett and the Russians would disappear along with their future. "Tell me. That guy Claude, from back in Jorvik. Was he part of your operation in 1066?"
"What could that matter? Yes, he was officially assigned to the Normans in France, but yes. Control had four op centers in Europe at the time. What's that got to do with anything?"
"Just trying to keep the players straight in my head." Haakon rubbed his eyes. In 1066, his control had only the operation in Jorvik, so far as he knew. More confirmation that Corbett was from an alternate future. Part of the Deviation.
Claude was Nathan's ex-boyfriend. That meant that Corbett, Claude, and Nathan were all part of the same timeline. That meant that the bombing of the lecture happened in their shared timeline but not in his. So, if MI5 stopped the Russians from bombing the lecture, then all of them would disappear. They would cease to exist because they would never have existed in the first place.
The logical chain sent chills skittering up his spine. If they carried out the mission—his mission—he'd lose Nathan forever. Nathan was innocent in all this. He didn't deserve to disappear, having never been. Now that he thought about it, Corbett didn't deserve to disappear, either. She was nasty, but she was also his erstwhile ally. Even the Russians were probably doing what they thought was right. No one deserved annihilation.
There had to be a better solution.