Ides of March (Time Patrol) (7 page)

“The furthest thing from that,” Dane said.

“A Vestal Virgin,” Eagle said, earning a snort of surprise from Mac.

“Not exactly,” Dane corrected. “An Amata. In training to be one.”

Mac couldn’t hold back. “How do you train to be a virgin?”

“Shut up, Mac,” Scout said, and that startled everyone in the room. Moms looked at her, then over at Eagle. He shrugged and gave a slight shake of his head.

“44 B.C.,” Dane said, tapping the piece of chalk on the board. “The day everyone remembers as
the
Ides of March. Caesar is assassinated. A critical juncture in history, to say the least. It led to civil war, then Antony and Cleopatra, and eventually Octavian becoming Emperor Augustus.”

“And you have no idea what I’m supposed to do,” Moms said, not a question.

“That’s the way it is,” Dane said. “You’ll get all the possible information about that day and that event in your download.”

Moms held up a hand. “Let’s back up a little. On Black Tuesday, a Time Patrol agent from the era met four of us. Pablo Correa was there, waiting for me to show up. I assume he sent the report forward in time, somehow, here, so that you knew where to send me.”

“They weren’t all Time Patrol agents,” Scout corrected. “The guy who I met worked for the Shadow. As did the second guy. And I think there was a third Shadow agent. I figure they killed the real Agent I was supposed to meet.” She pointed at Roland. “And Ragnarok, the Viking on whose ship Roland came to, also worked for the Shadow. He didn’t meet his Time Agent until later on. The Berserker.”

“Halved One-Eye,” Roland said admiringly. “He was pretty bad ass.”

“You thought Ragnarok was a bad ass when you met him,” Mac pointed out.

“I’m sure they both were,” Moms said, “but that’s exactly the point. It was pretty hit or miss. Out of six of us, two met Time Patrol Agents who helped, two met Shadow Agents who betrayed us, and two of us didn’t meet anyone from the Time Patrol or the Shadow. So what’s the deal?”

Dane sighed and looked off into the nonexistent distance in the room, framing what he was going to say. “I’ve admitted that what we don’t know about all this is a lot more than we know. We’re working a lot with inherited technology from Atlantis. Ancient, but more advanced than the world outside of here has. This is all on a level we don’t quite comprehend. We can break down the physics to a certain point, but then it falls apart.”

“Quantum and general relativity,” Doc said. “Physicists have been searching for a unified—

“Both are missing a piece,” Scout interrupted.

Everyone turned to her.

She tapped her chest. “The spirit of humanity.” She pointed at Moms. “None of the survivors of that plane crash that she kept from being killed by the Shadow have shaped world history. Except as Moms realized: they inspired hope. Think on that. The Shadow was attacking hope, not an event. Why would it do that?”

Silence reigned.

Surprisingly it was Roland who broke the quiet. “Maybe it’s more than hope? Maybe it’s, you know, spirit, or guts, or whatever it is, that makes people different? Makes us better? We’ve all seen it in combat. Where we’re willing to put our lives on the line for each other. That’s bigger than, well, bigger than . . .” and then he ran out of words.

“Roland’s right,” Moms said. “It’s an intangible.” She turned to Dane. “Back to the original question. Will there be Time Patrol agents meeting us?”

“Certainly, for some of you,” Dane said. Before anyone could object, he continued. “We don’t know. There should be an agent there, but as you’ve noted, sometimes the Shadow gets to them first. Sometimes, something happens to the agent that has nothing to do with all this. We try to get a message back to them, giving them what we know about where you’ll end up. But you have to remember the main problem: these missions come to us inside a time bubble. A bubble that the Shadow creates. How? We have no idea. All we know is we’ve inherited the technology to send you back in time into that bubble. But it’s not our bubble.”

“So we’re bursting their bubble?” Roland said.

Mac groaned, but Dane nodded. “In essence. Yes. The Agents we have in the past are from their era. They don’t know how things are supposed to play out. They just know something isn’t right. My advice, which you already know from listening to each other’s debriefings, is to be leery of anyone who approaches you pretending to be an Agent. And some of you will undoubtedly be on your own.”

“Hold on,” Doc said. “When the Shadow invades our timeline with a bubble, it only lasts twenty-four hours, right?”

“We don’t know,” Dane said. “We know each of you will be back for a maximum of twenty-four hours. Based on the debriefing from Black Tuesday, some of you were snatched back faster than the full twenty-four hour cycle.”

“Why?” Moms asked.

Dane shrugged. “In a way, the bubble doesn’t exist in reality. It’s an intrusion into our timeline. A timeline that has already been laid done. It’s a false reality. You succeed, it’s as if the bubble never happened.”

“If we fail?” Moms asked.

“We try to fix the ripple,” Dane said. “You haven’t failed yet, so let’s not start.”

“But dead is dead,” Eagle said. “Those men who died on my mission. They died. Right?”

Dane nodded. “Yes.”

There was a pause, and this time it was Edith who filled the vacuum, speaking to Moms. “It should be thrilling for you to go to Rome at that time,” Edith said, her face immediately turning red for her intrusion and because her blatant attempt at misdirection.

“It
will
be fascinating at least,” Eagle said, throwing her a bone for giving Dane a dirty look about the ring tones. “I imagine a lot more than my mission.” He indicated his clothes.

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Dane quickly wrote on the board:
15 March 1783 A.D. NEWBURGH, NEW YORK

Everyone on the team waited for Eagle to chime in with the event from his vast wealth of knowledge. Even Dane and Edith waited.

“General George Washington,” Eagle finally said. “He had his headquarters there in 1783.”

“Yes,” Dane said. “The Battle of Yorktown was in 1781 and most people think the Revolutionary War was over there and then.”

“Treat of Paris wasn’t until fall, 1783,” Eagle said. “That officially ended the war. After Yorktown there was a truce, but not actual peace.”

“Correct,” Dane said. “But in 1782, since the war pretty much appeared to be over, and peace negotiations were underway, the politicians started doing what politicians tend to do to the military when they don’t need them at the moment.”

“Screw ‘em over,” Roland said.

“Exactly,” Dane said. He nodded at Edith to pick up the story.

“Since they didn’t have the revenue from the states, Congress stopped paying the Army,” Edith said. “There were a considerable number of disgruntled officers. On 10 March, an anonymous letter began making the rounds of Washington’s camp at Newburgh. He was in that location, fifty miles up the Hudson, because the British still occupied New York City.

“Aware there were peace negotiations and that a treaty would soon be signed heightened tensions among the officers. They knew they were running out of time and leverage to get Congress to act. Once the treaty was completed and most of the officers cashiered out, they would have nothing they’d been promised for their service during the Revolution.”

Edith reached into her satchel and pulled out a file. “You’ll get this data in your download, but I think the original helps focus.” She pulled out an old document encased in hard plastic. She handed it to Eagle as if passing a fragile golden egg. “That’s the original letter written by Alexander Hamilton to George Washington asking him to ‘take the direction’ of the Army, particularly the officers. Hamilton was in Philadelphia getting the direction of the Congress.”

Eagle looked at the letter. “He was asking if they were going to munity?”

“In essence,” Edith said. “But there is more to Hamilton’s letter than concern for the officer’s welfare. He was implementing a clever political maneuver, using the threat of this mutiny, which had vast ramifications, to push for the formation of a stronger Federal government. He would use the threat to get Congress to enact the Articles of Confederation, which would eventually lead to the Constitution and the government as we know it.”

Eagle frowned. “So it worked?”

“It wouldn’t have worked if the officers had
actually
rebelled,” Dane said. “It was a very dangerous situation. On 15 March, Washington gave a speech. The Newburgh Address. It stopped the mutiny.”

“I’ve got the original transcript!” Edith’s excitement filled the room. The transcript was encased in plastic and she handed it to Eagle. Everyone waited while he read it through.

“Intriguing wording,” Eagle said when was done. “Quite brilliant.” He handed the two documents back to Edith. “I see why this is so important. But am I going back as a freedman or a slave? If it’s the latter, and the way I’m outfitted suggests that, then what could I possibly do?”

“You’ll figure it out.” Dane was already moving on, leaving Eagle fuming.

15 March 1493 A.D.—Palos de la Frontera, Spain

“Christopher Columbus arrives back in Spain,” Dane said, “via a two week detour in Portugal, which was a matter of some concern, given King John of Portugal hadn’t financed his expedition. On 15 March, he arrives at Palos de la Frontera, Spain, the small port town where he’d spent seven years trying to get the funding for the mission and from which he departed for the New World. That day he forwards his official report to Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand and the Pope. That is the document, which sets in motion what will happen to the New World he’s discovered. People all across Europe and especially the Vatican, used it as the prompt for the future.”

“Thought the Vikings were there first,” Roland said.

“The Vikings were like you,” Mac said. “They didn’t write a report.”

“Actually,” Edith said. “That’s true. Knowledge that isn’t disseminated dies with time. Columbus’ report, especially after it was printed and widely read, opened the gate for European exploration and colonization of the Americas.”

“Genocide of the indigenous population,” Eagle said.

“Okay,” Mac said. “And what could be the problem? Columbus already found the New World. He’s back. Everyone on his ships knows where they went.”

“That’s what you have to find out,” Dane said.

“Thanks,” Mac muttered. Then he tapped his chest. “What’s with the outfit?”

Edith answered. “
Devotio Modema.
Modern Devotion. A call for religious reform.”

“So I’m a modern devoted monk?”

“Not exactly,” Edith said. “
Devotio Modema
was actually a rather unique movement. On one hand, it wanted to go back to the basics. A life emphasizing humility, obedience and simplicity.”

“Picked wrong guy for that,” Roland said, scoring one for the Vikings.

Edith faltered, but then pressed on. “But it was also very progressive for its time. You’re dressed as most monks were at the time, but the cross on your belt is different. Not a crucifix, not metal, just a simple wooden cross that each member made themselves. And lay people could be part of it. Men and women. Actually, it gave a space for women, which was almost unprecedented at that era. And—”

“Enough.” Dane cut her off. “He’ll get all that information and more in the download.” Dane began writing the fourth year on the chalkboard.

Moms and Eagle exchanged glances, concerned about Dane’s abruptness.

15 March 493 A.D. RAVENNA, ITALY

Dane tapped the chalk on the line. “The last year for the first King of Italy, Odoacer. The man to whom the final Emperor of the Western Roman Empire, Romulus Augustus, surrendered his crown.”

Edith spoke up. “By normal historical convention the end of the Roman Empire was that event between Odoacer and Romulus Augustus in 476. Odoacer negotiated with the Byzantium Emperor, Zeno, who granted him what remained of the Western Empire as his fiefdom. But when Odoacer didn’t completely bend to Zeno’s control, he sent the Ostrogoth King, Theodoric, to handle it. Legend is that Theodoric betrayed Odoacer at a banquet where they were to work out how to rule jointly, then cut him in half.”

“That’s symbolism,” Eagle said.

“Nice guy,” Roland said.

“That change of power was significant.” Edith said. “Odoacer at least paid lip service to a Roman Empire. Theodoric shifted that emphasis to Italy. He also began consolidating all the various Goth tribes, including the Visigoths who had sacked Rome earlier.”

“Okay,” Roland said. “And?”

Dane spread his hands.

“Why am I going to this Ravenna place?” Roland asked. “Shouldn’t it be Rome?”

Edith shook her head. “Odoacer moved his capitol to Ravenna. Interestingly,” she added, looking at Moms, “that’s the city where Caesar made his decision to cross the Rubicon half a century earlier.”

“
’The vicissitudes of fortune’
” Eagle quoted, “
’which spares neither man nor the proudest of his works, which buries empires and cities in a common grave’
.”

“The Decline and fall of the Roman Empire,” Edith said admiringly. “Edward Gibbon.”

“Love at first quote,” Mac said, in a very low voice, but Scout still gave him a look.

Edith didn’t notice. “Gibbon blamed Christianity a great deal for the fall of the Roman Empire. His major objection was its intolerance to other faiths, an implicit Roman policy that allowed their Empire to last so long and cover so many different cultures and faiths. Once Emperor Constantine converted to Christianity, the foundation of the Western Roman Empire began to erode. But he also established Constantinople, which would lead to the Empire splitting into east and west.”

“Gibbon had a valid point,” Eagle said. “Intolerance for those who worshipped differently began to spread. Anti-Semitism and—”

Dane cleared his throat. “Bottom line is that Theodoric had Ravenna under siege for three years and had the upper hand. He finished Odoacer on that day.”

He added a fifth line.

15 March 1917 A.D. PETROGRAD, RUSSIA