“Of course they had to know, but we’ll just have to work it thorough. Let’s start with the first train. Suppose we manage to alert Lawrence’s men to its approach—even if that means we expose ourselves to a Prime Mover on the time line.”
“That would be risky,” said Maeve.
“Yes, but if they get the first train, then the derailment on the tracks will prevent the other two from getting through, or at least it will delay them. Lawrence’s boys will grab their booty and high-tail it out to the desert. The second train, the one that blows up as the history reads now, will be spared.”
“How would we alert the Arabs without exposing ourselves?” Maeve was stubbornly trying to protect the Prime Mover from contamination. “If we go running up, shouting the alarm in English, it will certainly get Lawrence’s attention. We’d become entangled in the whole situation and retraction would be very difficult.”
“Well, we don’t have to actually say anything. You’d be amazed at how effective a few shouts and gestures can be. They’ll see us and assume we’re a few stray cohorts raising the alarm.”
“Possibly,” Maeve equivocated. “Or they might just take us to be vagrants and shoot us down. But—”
“Then maybe we could do something to make the train more visible.” Paul was sorting through the possibilities.
“You mean board the train and pull on the whistle or something?” Maeve handled that argument with the obvious sarcasm it deserved.
“Alright,” said Paul, deep in thought. “What if we just made our way to the tracks and pulled some debris across the line. Not enough to cause any real harm, mind you, but perhaps enough to force them to stop and clear the rails.”
“Not very practical, and risky again,” Maeve folded her arms.
“But why?”
“It’s a desert, Paul. It’s not like the rail line is lined with trees. To start with, I’ll bet we would have a rough time finding anything to block the rails. There was probably very little beyond scrub and an occasional tamarisk about.”
“What about rocks,” Paul argued. “There should be plenty of rocks and gravel around. We could pile up just enough to force them to stop.”
“And arouse their suspicions as well,” Maeve countered. “That’s the real complication, Paul. If we block the rail line they’ll be on the alert for possible sabotage. We would risk exposing the Arabs, and Lawrence himself, to a danger they did not have to face historically.”
“Lord, every mission they undertook had the risk of discovery inherent in the operation.”
“This is different,” Maeve countered. “The Turks would be on the alert. They’d be looking for trouble ahead on the line. They might get off a telegraph to call for help. The second train was a troop train, if I remember Nordhausen’s reading of that passage. Suppose they coordinate and catch Lawrence in a trap.”
“You’re reaching, Maeve.” Paul needled her.
“Yes, but you get my point. What if Lawrence is captured? We cannot expose a Prime Mover to unforeseen hazards—a risk forced upon him by our direct actions. There has to be another way.”
Dorland leaned on the arm of his chair, his hand cupping his chin as he thought. “Alright,” he concluded. “Let’s stay with our assumption that the middle train is the key—the second train. To reverse that outcome we will have to find a way of sabotaging the wires or fiddling with the charge so it doesn’t go off. That’s up close and personal. We risk exposing ourselves there too.”
“Yes, but it might be done by one of us. Lord, if they failed to see or hear the first train coming, then I’m inclined to think that one of us could sneak up and do the job.”
“Possibly, but if we fail then the second train blows and the whole mission plays out as it does in the history we have now. We aren’t giving ourselves much room here.”
“What about the third train?” Maeve jumped ahead to the obvious next step in the progression of their thinking. “Think, Paul. If we do manage to save the middle train, and if Lawrence persists in his plan, then it’s the third train that goes boom in the alternate time line. The way I see it we’ve still got a 50 percent chance here. If Masaui is on the middle train, and we save his life by preventing its destruction, then the fate of train three is irrelevant.”
“But if he’s on the final one…” Paul latched a tender onto her train of thought for a moment. “Then Masaui needs to die. The way history reads now, that train might be delayed by the destruction of train two, but it is otherwise unharmed. We have to reverse that outcome as well to be certain.”
“Right,” Maeve agreed. “Train two needs to be saved, and train three needs to blow up. It’s the only way to cover both bets. That’s why we can’t touch the first train. If we meddle with that, both of the other two trains will be spared.”
Jen came running up the steps from the generator room, breathless with excitement. “Tom says the power can go to 100 percent any time. You can toggle it from the main panel up here. I’ll see that the feeds are all tapped in.” She went off behind the main console.
“Great!” Paul clapped his hands together, rubbing them with anticipation. He looked at his watch, and Maeve pointed at it, almost aghast.
“Take that off or you aren’t going anywhere.”
“What?”
“Nothing from our time can go through, Paul.” She looked over her shoulder at Jen, moderating her tone a bit. “At least nothing that would look obviously out of place. You know that!” She gave him a bemused look. “Suppose we leave a nice twenty-first century Timex glistening in the sand for some poor shepherd to find? Get rid of it.”
“Right,” Paul fussed with the watch band as Nordhausen came huffing up in full costume.
“Behold the Caliph!” He smiled broadly, extending his arms to display his long flowing robes. Maeve caught sight of his shoes and saw that he was still wearing a pair of Bass hiking boots.
“Wonderful,” she said with an edge. “Those cleated, Vibram soles were all the rage in 1917. I found a pair of old boots for you, Robert. Go put them on.”
“The damn things are too tight,” Nordhausen complained.
“Too bad!” Maeve’s cheeks flushed red as she pointed to the ante-room. “Look, do I have to take you both in there and do a strip search on you before we go? Nothing from our time goes down to the Arch! Got that? Lose the shoes, and leave that book and your classic Parker ink pen behind as well, Robert.”
The professor gave Paul a wry wink as he shuffled away. “Come on, Paul. I’ll frisk you if you’ll return the compliment.” He laughed, lightening the mood. “We can spare Maeve the trouble.”
“I’m clean.” Paul looked at Maeve. “You have my word on it, but if you ladies would care to explore the issue further…” He raised his eyebrows jokingly, looking from Maeve to Jen.
“We’ll take your word on it,” Maeve grinned.
Kelly slid away from the data portal and hurried over. “Numbers are in the system. I shaded a variable to try and give us a little more time, like Nordhausen wanted. No good trying to change the date at this point,” he explained, “but if we miss our mark it will push things in the right direction, behind the event and not in front of it.”
“Glad to hear that much at least,” said Paul. He could put aside the worry of landing in 1957.
“I better get dressed.” Kelly looked around. “Where’s my costume?”
Paul looked at Maeve, and she read volumes in his eyes as he considered what to say next. “I’ve been thinking, Kelly,” he began uncomfortably.
“Paul and I have been discussing things.” Maeve saw where he was going immediately and deftly came to his rescue, a co-conspirator on the effort to leave Kelly behind. She had other reasons, which she would keep to herself for a time, but now she decided to weigh in with Paul. “One of us has to stay here to watch the data flow, and you’re the numbers man.”