Джон Шеттлер: Nexus Deep

“Very well,” said MacRae. “As to the men…. I don’t suppose you’ll want them walking about in TALOS suits.”

“Of course not. Remember, we need to be inconspicuous, or at least look like we belong where we are. Strange garb would be a dead giveaway, and arouse interest and possibly suspicion. I’ve thought about that one too. Mister Churchill mentioned it when I first proposed this idea, and he was kind enough to lend a hand. I have a trunk full of men’s clothing, authentic to the period, and all compliments of the Prime Minister. As for me, I did some shopping in London before I returned from that meeting, and found something suitable—an old Empire style dress—plain white, high waist, with a shawl and an outer hooded cape for travel. We’re about on business, and must look like upper-class merchants. But this is a minor detail. Our man came back with Yellow Fever, and Churchill told me there was a nasty epidemic there that year.”

“Yellow Fever?” said MacRae. “Nasty is half a word for that—chills, sweats, headache, jaundice, muscle spasms, bloodshot eyes and other hemorrhages, and near the end, black vomit, cold sweats and welcome death after all that suffering. You know, the place was called the filthiest post in the empire. Housing was scarce and people lived in crowded dwellings. Many thought the filth and squalor was what led to the disease, and that it was passed from person to person in the hovels. Others thought it was the result of infectious airs. The sad fact is that they were both wrong, and they never knew it was the mosquitoes. It would be another 70 years before they learned that.”

“Well, let’s make certain everyone in our team is vaccinated. Immunity after that is about 99%, and holds for life. I’ve checked my own medical records, and I’m covered. You should both do the same.”

“I’m vaccinated, and I’ve already checked over the roster to make sure all the men are as well. Mack, how about you?”

“Been in the tropics too long,” said Morgan. “I’m covered.”

“Good, because it can take a month or more after vaccination before immunity sets in.” He turned to Elena. “How long will we be there?” He had finally come to feel at home in the 1940s. Now here they were thinking to go all the way back to 1804!

“I’m thinking we’ll need at least two months.”

“That long? Well, I suppose Mister Dean can handle things on the ship for that time.”

“Oh, don’t assume we’d be gone two months’ time here. We could spend months there, and return here to find only three days have passed.”

“But our men were in there for just a few hours as they reported it, and days passed here,” said Gordon. “If that is any guide, then we could disappear for years here. The whole bloody war could be over by the time we get back to the ship—assuming we do get back.”

“That’s one of the wildcards in the deck,” said Elena. “We’ve no way of knowing how much time will pass here, but we’ll just have to risk it. Gentlemen, this is going to be a bit of an adventure!”

“Or a nightmare,” said Morgan.

They would make the descent into St. Michael’s Cave, and the climb up through the rock crevice on the very next day. It would be a team of six, Miss Fairchild, MacRae and Morgan, with three Argonauts, Sergeant Kane, and two privates, Moran and Foley. The clothing Elena brought was modified to conceal things. Special pockets were sewn in to hold necessities, and also hide them from the eyes of the people they might encounter. They wanted to take along certain military equipment, and yet keep it well hidden. Each man would also be wearing special lightweight body armor under their clothing, and sport a small holstered sidearm that would be hidden under their overcoats, and beneath a flap of material added to their waistcoat. Elena declined this, counting on her status as a dignified woman to offer her some protection.

The other side of the rock that hid the inner cavern was now lit up with rigged lighting, and they had a rope ladder fixed to the top of the stone with a few sturdy steel pegs. Elena had not yet donned her costume clothing, wanting to get through the difficult climbing and interior passages before she did that. Then she could simply put the garb on over her traveling clothes. They would be guided by the scout they had sent in earlier, who pointed out the passage they had taken in the labyrinthine cavern.

“Both the left and right passages are dead ends. It’s the center opening there that we took. You won’t be but a hundred yards before it begins bearing up to a chimney that’s been documented for some time. It’s just wide enough to climb up, about three meters. Then you’ll be in a known passage of the cave.”

“Strange,” said Elena. “I wonder why no one ever got down here then, if it opens onto a known passage.”

“They probably did,” said Morgan. “But then never found that crevice above the rock we just climbed over.”

“But we must move through the time fissure in here somewhere—in that central passage if our scout is correct.”

“Aye,” said Morgan. “They may have as well, but seeing o way to proceed, they would have just back-tracked. The rock would seem a dead end to them, so they may have been moving in time, yet never knew about it.”

“Very strange,” said Elena. “The fissure was just hidden in plain sight. Come from our side of that rock, and it leads you back in time. Come the other way and you go forward. This is going to be interesting.”

They moved through the narrow passage, the shadows retreating from their flashlights, then gathering again behind them. Their scout had not been entirely accurate. The passages to either side of the one they took were not dead ends, though they would have seemed so to anyone not trying them with real determination. On one occasion. A British Sergeant had followed a Barbary Ape into one, and caught a glimpse of him slipping away into the rightmost passage. Pursuing, but not finding the beast anywhere, he had good reason to be persistent in his search of that tunnel, knowing that if that Ape got through, then there must be a hidden way, which he eventually found. It took him somewhere else, to a place where that printed candy bar label Elena’s team had found had originated, but none of them knew that just yet. It would not occur to Elena for some days….

It was mostly an upward hike, inclined at an angle, which then reversed its direction before they came to the brief climb up that chimney that made Elena feel something had happened to them. Once at the top, MacRae offered her a hand, pulling her up.

“My,” she said, “I’m feeling very light headed.”

“Aye, we all felt that coming up through that chimney. There’s your time fissure. It’s right there—a three-meter climb that spans more than a century. Gives me the shivers just to think of it.”

Elena now thought it best to get in to her period clothing, feeling very cold, a physical chill to accompany the emotional frost the Captain was describing. The team was all up, and gathered into a tight group. The way forward now was known, and it would take them towards the entrance to St. Michael’s Cave, a walk of about a hundred yards. Along the way there were a few side passages, and they made mental notes of them.

“I count three,” said Morgan. “This is the Cathedral Cave.” He looked back over his shoulder. “We’ll want to bear that way on the way home. Then take the third passage on the right to the Chimney. Anyone finding it here would just think it was all a dead end. Now we know better.”

“Let’s get on with it then,” said Elena.

They moved out, with Sergeant Kane in the lead with his two Argonauts, the others following. It wasn’t long before they saw a figure ahead, and the noise of their coming roused his attention.