John Schettler - Touchstone

“You make it sound as if you’ve been here before,” said Nordhausen.

“Before? Yes. I’ve done the whole tour three times. I’ve seen it all: the battle of the Nile, the first look at the great pyramids, that marvelous engagement with the Mamluks there, and the insurrection in Cairo. That first year is full of excitement. Then Napoleon gets this idea about driving through to cut the British Empire in half and isolate their operations in India. He’s such a rogue, that one. I don’t really enjoy that part of the tour. There’s that long march across Sinai, the nasty engagements along the way. The shooting of the prisoners and the siege of Acre are particularly unpleasant. When you throw the plague into the mix, you can see that it becomes rather trying. But I have to go along. It’s part of the duty. You never know when something will come up that you don’t really expect. The second assassination attempt on Napoleon took place just a few weeks ago on the retreat.”

“Yes!” Nordhausen latched on to that. “Paul pulled me aside and gave me an earful about that before we left. He said there was a man who shot at Napoleon on the road. Four guides cornered him and put their carbines to the man’s belly—but all four misfired.”

“That was quite a scene!” LeGrand slapped his thick knee to accent the professor’s remark. “Would that be Mr. Dorland you are referring to?”

“What? You mean Paul? Yes, of course.”

“Ah, what a genius the man must be. I must say, this is quite an honor to meet the two of you this way. It’s a perfect example of what I was just describing. You weren’t here on my first two tours, you see. At least I was unaware of your presence if you were. That incident in Alexandria was the breadcrumb that put us on the right trail.”

“Alexandria?” Nordhausen was now building up an excited curiosity, his suspicions melting as LeGrand unraveled his story.

“Of course! You see, the first two times we thought it was a local Arab—a dissident, or perhaps even an agent, who fired the shot from that alley window in Alexandria. We found the room, the discharged musket, the prayer rug, washing bowl and a copy of the Koran opened to a particularly telling passage. Imagine my surprise this last tour when I happened across that purse! I sent it back at once, of course—note and all. They put the full resources of the research department on it. Outcomes and Consequences went round and round, and the upshot of the lowdown is that I get a message to be particularly alert on the morning of July 14 th. I’m told to look for two Americans on the road to Alexandria—given precise coordinates in fact. Lo and behold, I am graced by the arrival of Nordhausen and Lindford! Imagine my surprise and delight!”

“You say you sent the purse back?” Now it was Maeve’s turn to take up the questioning.

“Of course. Any evidence of temporal contamination must be removed from the Meridian at once. It’s a rule we have. I sent it back for analysis, and it was returned, via special courier, only last night. I was told to look for two Americans on the road west of the town. Research must have found trace indicators linking your arrival here to the incident last year in Alexandria. Apparently the decision was made to restore the purse to its rightful owner for proper disposition. I was to present it to the lady on the road, and so I have.” He made a graceful bow, smiling as he finished.

“Ingenious,” Nordhausen breathed. “You were aware of our mission all along?”

“Not exactly. As I say, this is something new. The discovery of the purse did indeed lead us to a Founder’s mission. That’s what we call you, if you don’t mind the burden of history. We were not quite sure what to make of it at first but, if they sent in a special courier, the situation must be developing to something very significant. I don’t know what they’ve determined back home in operations, but it seems certain they now believe a Nexus is forming, deepening by the minute, and it appears to be centered here, on the discovery of the Rosetta Stone.”

“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.”