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The Sheik smiled, this time with some warmth and a measure of respect. “You are, indeed, a formidable woman,” he said.

“You’ll find us all quite formidable,” she emphasized. “We are the Founders, gentlemen. You must heed this warning, or I can tell you the consequences will be darker that any of us here can now imagine. It will not be unopened wine bottles, but people and places will go missing in due course, just as you have shared here. Events will change all on their own, and no one will be able to put things right again. We cannot even be certain of the history we once thought was safe in our Ram Bank, and the same is true for both of you. Interventions in Time under these circumstances would be like a surgeon operating blind. Would either of you care to be the patient on that operating Table? So I beg you, in the interest of humanity and the future you call to so earnestly, to end this war. Every one of us is in agreement, here. Paul?”

“I call for an immediate cease fire, a truce, and termination of all Nexus Points upon our signal.”

“Robert?”

“Gentlemen, leave my history alone, if you please, and do exactly what this woman says.”

“Kelly?”

“Shut the damn thing down. Period.”

Maeve looked at them, a fierce expression on her face now. “That’s all four of us,” she said in a low voice. “We have reached an absolute certainty in our view on this, and four votes from the Founders is one hell of a weight of opinion. What is your decision, gentlemen? Will you comply, or must we take further action?”

LeGrand swallowed hard. “I am authorized to reach an accommodation with you should all Founders be seen to be in agreement. Yes. You are correct, Miss Lindford. The weight of your combined opinion is duly noted… and respected. The Order is therefore willing to comply to the terms as stipulated.”

Aziz spoke next. “Then you will not allow Palma to stand? Even if it has a rightful place in the Prime Meridian?”

“We will not,” said Maeve. “There will be no further intervention, no more damage to the continuum, unless you force us to act again. Play it as it lays. Your decision?”

The Sheik stroked his beard. “Your message to us said that any emissary sent must have binding authority. I have as much where our people are concerned.” He looked from LeGrand, to Maeve and the others. “Very well. I agree to the terms as stipulated. Provided the Order complies in this manner, by first shutting down all active Arch complexes, save two. Then we will comply and both sides will cease all operations simultaneously upon receipt of your signal.”

“Fair enough,” said LeGrand. “The Order agrees.”

“And you’ll also destroy any existing Oklo reaction site you may have in use,” said Paul. “And by recalling your people we mean all of them. Your archival Sphinx site with Hamza and his scribes must be abandoned as well.”

The Sheik’s chin tightened, but he thought for a moment and then nodded in the affirmative. “We will do as you ask,” he said. “This agreement is concluded, but how will it be enforced?”

“Leave that to me,” said Maeve. “If nothing else, I’m very tidy.”

“Gentlemen,” said Robert “Let us drink on it. To the history… And may God forgive us our wanton and selfish ways.”

“All Gods we may ever know,” said LeGrand.

“As Allah wills it,” said Aziz.

Paul stood up, smiling broadly. “Then I swear to you all, on my father’s grave, that I will not be the one to break the peace we have made here today.” His voice strained to imitate Brando, and Maeve gave him an incredulous look.

“The Godfather,” he said sheepishly. “There’s something in that movie for virtually any occasion.”

There was a sudden sharp pop, and they turned to see that Robert had hold of a freshly opened bottle of Champagne.

Epilogue

“The past is but the beginning of a beginning, and all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn.”

- H. G. Wells
The Key

Aboard HMS Rodney, Captain Dalrymple-Hamilton had the satisfaction of knowing his ship had been instrumental in catching and sinking the Bismarck. In spite of her worn engines, dodgy steam boilers, and that fact that her decks and holds were cluttered with crates of supplies and material to be used in her own refitting, she gave a very good account of herself, arriving on the scene at a crucial moment and engaging and holding the enemy until Admiral Tovey could rally the wounded Prince of Wales and team her up with his own ship King George V to join the battle. More than that, Rodney was the first to seriously blood the enemy, scoring vital hits on her gun turrets and striking the blow that killed both Lütjens and Lindemann.

Clearly the arrival of Tovey’s two formidable ships had made a decisive difference in the battle but, when the action had been sorted out, the captain was pleased to learn that it was his fourth salvo that had struck a hard blow on Bismarck’s forward Anton and Bruno turrets, and later on Rodney also struck and hit her aft Dora turret. Silencing the enemy guns was a large part of any victory at sea, he knew. And all the while, Rodney’s own guns had continued to blast away with her big six foot long shells. The concussion of the guns had ripped up her wooden decks, shaken loose railings and fittings all over the ship, and burst her iron water pipes to flood several compartments. Yet, wheezing and rattling, she had still managed some of her best recorded speeds of the war, lumbering in on the scene at just the crucial moment.

The old girl still had some life in her, he thought, though he knew that the presence and good sense of the American officer Wellings had also confirmed his own best judgment on how to steer his ship in this action, and enabled him to make the decisive rendezvous in the end. A pity that Wellings did not survive. The report that he had been seen swept over the upper deck railing and out to sea in the midst of the battle was disheartening. A man overboard at such times was all but doomed. The seas were far too high for him to survive very long, and it was hours before the action had finally concluded and the destroyers had set about picking up survivors, and they were all too few.

A submarine alert had come in while the cruiser Dorsetshire and destroyer Maori were picking up men. The ships were forced to work up speed and steam away, men still clinging to the rescue ropes, dragged off and finally lost to the angry sea again, too exhausted to hold on. Just three men had come safely off HMS Hood, and from Bismarck only 116 of more than 2200 lives had been saved. Wellings’ name was not on the list of those rescued that day.