That thought was very troubling, because this seemed the most obvious Pushpoint of all those Paul had identified in the Bismarck saga. The more they looked at the history, the more difficult things became.
“This is getting frustrating,” he said. “The history is a house of cards here. It seems all too easy to pull one out and send the whole lot tumbling down, but trying to put things back together again is daunting. For that matter, I still don’t see how they could have known Bismarck would sink the transport carrying Thomason either. The variance angles are just as wide on that as anything we’ve been discussing about Sheffield.”
“They may not have had a hard and fast plan,” Maeve suggested. “It could be that they are simply running scenarios—effecting alterations—and then looking at outcomes. When they get something they like, they let it stand.”
The comment spun Paul around, suddenly very interested. “Then you suggest they just decided to intervene like this and save Bismarck, then looked at the consequences? Why pick this battle? There are millions of places on the Meridian where they could intervene. Why Bismarck?”
“We’ve answered that,” said Maeve. “It’s in the genealogy of our suspected terrorist. “If they discovered how he died, as we easily did, then they would just have to try any intervention that might increase the odds of that ship being sunk, the Prospector. Who knows? Maybe they were just trying to save the German battlecruiser at Brest, and the effect it had on the fate of Bismarck was just gravy. It could even be that they selected this Berber scout—the father—simply because he died in WWII. If they could reverse that, restore him to the continuum and get a son, then they would have a person that simply didn’t exist in our Meridian. Ever try to track down a killer who never lived?”
“I see your point,” said Paul. “So how would they put things back in order if they didn’t like an outcome? Suppose they save him and he never goes on to sire the terrorist.”
“You’re worried he might impact future events if left alive? Well… don’t we call them Assassins? They’d simply eliminate the man and move on to another intervention scenario. They can always keep trying,” said Maeve. “We can only assume they succeeded this time. Who knows how many interventions they may have tried before they got this little nightmare to work.”
“But how could they know—“ Paul cut himself off, struck by a sudden realization.
“Resonance!” he said excitedly. “If they were in a Nexus Point, and it was deep enough, then we could have a situation much like the one we faced at Tours a few days ago. Remember? The Nexus was so deep that the Heisenberg Wave took a long time to build up. It didn’t take effect immediately. Eventually it became strong enough, as a potential energy, to begin influencing events very close to the intervention point on the Meridian. That’s why there was no battle underway when I first shifted into the historical site at Tours. The Heisenberg Wave was so big it had already altered that part of the continuum, but its main energy release was held in abeyance—perhaps by the very same Nexus Point we established during that mission!”
“Well if I were Mother Time I would shudder every time someone spun up an Arch facility,” said Maeve.
“Exactly!” said Paul. “We’re still in defensive mode here now, trying to figure out how they assured the rise of this new terrorist. But on offense it’s a whole different ballgame. We could spin up the Arch to establish a Nexus Point, then run any intervention we choose, sample the Resonance in the Golem Stream, and see if we like what we get. It’s as if you get to make a move against a computer in Chess, see the outcome, and then just reset things to that position again if you make a bad move.”
On their last mission Paul made the alarming discovery that Kelly’s Golem search programs were able to perceive and report on information from a potentially altered Meridian. Once the Nexus field was operating, they seemed to occupy a kind of safe zone in the stream of Time where they were immune to the effects of alterations. The Golems had access to information from all possible Meridians passing through that Nexus. In due course they would come to reach a “weight of opinion” about the outcome of an intervention, which was the most likely outcome based on the total information available. Paul got the idea watching various computer models try to predict the projected path of a hurricane. As the information grew more certain, the various paths converged, and the outcome became fairly predictable. And as they learned from their associates in the future, information was much easier to transmit across Time than objects of mass. The Golems were seeing information from potentially altered Meridians resonating in the data stream.
“But what if they kill someone—like I killed the bishop on that last mission,” said Maeve.
“You didn’t kill the damn bishop,” said Kelly, wanting to chase any vestige of recrimination and guilt from Maeve’s mind and heart. “All you did was restore the Meridian. Lambert was fated to die—and you were fate.”
“Small comfort,” said Maeve. “I suppose I can live with that, but how do they undo a major intervention if they don’t like the results? Look at what we went through at Tours, and what we’re struggling with now with this naval campaign. It’s not as simple as snuffing out the life of one man.”
“Suffice it to say they do find a way,” said Paul. “We have to accept some givens here. Knowing exactly what they did to change things in the first place gives them a real advantage, it’s much easier to set them right again. For us, it’s a huge guessing game. We can see where an intervention is occurring, but trying to nail down exactly what they did is tough work. This incident involving the fishing trawler is a perfect example. If they did send that boat into Brest with an agent, then they knew exactly where it originated. They can turn that operation off with a single message shifted in the day before the boat leaves. We have to guess, and cover every possible embarkation point—fish, flesh and good red herring, to quote Maeve’s old English proverb.“
“Damn,” said Kelly. “You’re right. The best defense is a good offence.”
Paul just looked at him, the light of yet another realization gleaming in his eyes. “That’s it!” he said snapping his fingers. “By God, that’s it!”
Chapter 11
Maeve sighed. “I don’t see any clear way we can intervene yet. We keyed on this British cruiser, but the Assassins could have operated against any of the other Pushpoints as well—like Lütjens’ decision not to refuel, or the faulty radar set on Bismarck that caused Prince Eugen to take the lead, anything.”
“That sounds suspicious too,” said Kelly. “Just like Sheffield takes the lead in the altered history line and runs into that German battlecruiser. Are we seeing a pattern here?”
“Wishful thinking is more likely,” said Maeve. “If you suspect tampering with Bismarck’s radar, then they would have to have an agent aboard the battleship.”
“Not necessarily,” Kelly argued. “They could have sabotaged it during construction.”
“And timed its failure specifically for this sea engagement?” Maeve didn’t buy it.
Paul waved his hand excitedly. “Hold on, people. This will lead us around in circles again. I think we’ve established that the Pushpoints involved here are not easily restored once they are disturbed. The campaign is too fragile. It seems like any little nudge this way or that results in a scenario that favors Bismarck, at least if we mess with the Pushpoints we’ve been focusing on thus far. It shows you just how lucky the British were in this campaign.”