Johnny O'Brien - Day of the Assassins

The professor half rose from his seat, “Pinckard-Schnell, at your service. I must thank you for arranging our rescue so quickly… and thank you for allowing us to be guests,” he looked around, unsure of himself, “in your, er, house.”

“A pleasure. I understand from Mr Smith that you were taking an unexpected opportunity to set a new world record, Professor?”

“Yes…”

“Well, as you are no doubt aware, you have landed in the Southern Tyrol, so as you departed from HMS Dreadnought , somewhere in the North Sea, I think you will have more than achieved your objective. Congratulations are in order.”

The Professor blushed self-consciously, then his expression turned to one of puzzlement, “You seem to know a surprising amount… sir, how exactly…?”

Jack piped up, his voice a little unsteady. “Professor — I don’t think you quite understand — this is the Rector from my school, the head teacher, the one I told you about.” He turned to the Rector, “I told him what happened, sir, I had to really, although I’m not sure he quite believes me.”

The Rector smiled, “Yes, of course. I quite understand. Well, now we are all here safe and sound, I think you deserve to understand the full picture.” He turned to the Professor, “Both of you.”

“… You can see, then, how the technology we are dealing in, time travel technology, is extremely powerful. Those who use it can potentially change the past and therefore change the future. The people who are in charge of it have a huge responsibility. Sometimes we have to take difficult decisions — and we have to take them quickly.”

Jack and the professor had sat back in their chairs whilst the Rector paced backwards and forwards in front of the log fire. The professor was engrossed in what the Rector had to say. Jack, however, refreshed after his short nap and the food, was impatient for answers.

“Have you killed Dr Pendelshape?” he asked.

For the first time, the Rector’s warmth evaporated, “Pendelshape! That idiot! Jack — do you have any idea how dangerous Pendelshape’s actions could have been?”

Jack shook his head sheepishly.

The Rector took a deep breath, “For your information, no, we have not killed him. Not our style, although he has been severely reprimanded. I don’t think he will make the same mistake twice.” The Rector, calming himself, explained Pendelshape’s sins in more detail, “Pendelshape was collaborating secretly with the Benefactor in his quest to build a separate Taurus. We had no idea. Not only is this quest exceptionally dangerous, but it is against VIGIL rules — the VIGIL Imperative that he signed up to — and what’s more, it’s a personal betrayal to all his colleagues — including myself.”

They looked at the Rector blankly. The Rector sighed, “I think I need to explain to you both exactly what we are dealing with here.”

He stooped down to place another log on the fire, “The scientific team that developed the time-travel technology decided that using it would be too dangerous. Making interventions back in time might have unforeseen consequences for the present. We had developed very good computer-modelling techniques to predict how changes in the past would alter the future course of history. But despite this, we believed it was just too risky. We decided instead to mothball the technology, and we founded the school as a cover for what we were doing. VIGIL was set up and we agreed to be bound by its rules. In the end there was really only one dissenting voice — the Benefactor. He could not agree that we should never use the technology — he honestly believed that it could be used as a power for good. The argument became very heated. Eventually, we agreed to part company with the Benefactor. It was very sad in a way. He was one of our most brilliant scientists and one of the architects of the Taurus. But he left the Taurus team seven years ago and we heard nothing from him until yesterday.”

“Until you intercepted the emails between him and Pendelshape.”

“That’s right, Jack. We were carrying out a check, as we do on all the team members from time to time, without their knowledge. We have to. What we found was extremely alarming.”

“The Benefactor had built a separate Taurus.”

“Exactly — we were staggered by this. We could not believe that he could have done it on his own.” The Rector stared into the flickering flames. He shook his head and added grudgingly, “You have to admire him. Now, there are two working time machines, and suddenly, the Benefactor has the ability to time travel and, potentially, to make his own changes in history — just as he always wanted.”

“And you can’t do anything about it?”

The Rector turned back to Jack. “Well, of course, as we also have our original Taurus at the school, if the Benefactor made a change in time, we could go back and try to reverse that change. In fact one of the reasons we kept the Taurus intact and even tested it was in case somehow, someone developed similar technology in the future. We had considered that scenario but believed it to be highly unlikely. But science moves quickly…”

“Two time machines? Sounds like things could get really messed up. Dr Pendelshape said something about the ‘Armageddon Scenario’.”

“Yes — a theoretical possibility. You could get into a series of interventions and reversals in history… anything could happen. It’s unpredictable and very dangerous.”

The professor removed his round glasses and started to polish them energetically on a napkin, as his mind spun in wonderment at the potential consequences of time-travel interventions.

“A kind of time war,” he said — probably with more enthusiasm than he intended.

“If you like, Professor, but we don’t even want to contemplate that. We must stop the Benefactor from doing anything at all.”

“But you can’t do that — you don’t know where he is — he has his own Taurus — he can do whatever he wants… whenever he wants.”

The Rector stared down at Jack. His expression had changed — he now had a sympathetic, even sad, look in his eye, “Of course, you would be right, but for one thing.”

Jack cocked his head, not sure what the Rector meant.

“Sorry — I keep calling him ‘the Benefactor’ — old names, old habits, I’m afraid. You of course know by now, who the Benefactor is?”

“Some nutcase — sounds like.” Jack glanced over to the professor and smiled nervously.

“He’s your father, Jack.”

Jack heard the words but they made no sense. For a second, he just stared blankly at the Rector.

“What?”

“The Benefactor — he’s your father…”

“But… how…?”

“Jack, I know this is hard…”

Slowly it started to become clear. “…the library at Cairnfield…”

“Yes — your father’s workshop.”

It all made sense. All the First World War memorabilia they had found there. Then there was the present of a history book and his strange flashbacks of the trip to the First World War battlefields and cemeteries — no doubt driven by his father’s interest in history — maybe his desire for Jack to share the same interest, and share his horror at the slaughter. And then there was his early childhood near Geneva — where his father had worked with the rest of the Taurus team. And his father never being at home — always working — which wasn’t surprising given the importance of what he was doing. And, of course, the separation from his mum. It was obvious now why that had happened. The stress must have been unbearable. Jack couldn’t believe that he had not realised it before.

“But why wasn’t I told… why didn’t Mum say…?”