“The stress level just gets worse,” King said. “I assume you want me to go to America?”
Hanover nodded, then hesitated. “You might want to send one of your staff,” he said. “Ambassador, with all due respect…”
“They might consider me an uppity nigger?” King finished. “Yes, the thought occurred to me. I am Martin Luther King’s descendent; how could it not have occurred to me?”
“And you still wish to return?” Hanover asked. “We will grant you asylum, if you wish.”
And to think I thought badly of him, King thought. “I have my duty,” he said. “I’m sure that President Roosevelt will act to change matters, now that he knows the verdict of history.”
“Perhaps,” Hanover said. “John?”
McLachlan coughed. “We need food and coal,” he said, “and we need the US navy to aid us in escorting convoys. Fortunately, we have – just – enough shipping to handle the requirements, but we don’t have anything like the escort forces required.”
King scowled. He’d been reading up on the era for the last handful of days. “Didn’t Roosevelt send you some destroyers?”
“We would need him to send crews as well,” Hanover said. “You have to ask him to do everything short of declaring war.”
King nodded. “I see what you mean,” he said. “Tell me, will you trade some technology?”
“I think so,” Hanover said. “A mobile phone network, for example, would really help America; and God knows there are thousands of slightly outdated phones around.”
King hesitated. “What sort of books can I take?”
“Anything, but nuclear science,” Hanover said. “I would advise warning him about the spies in the American nuclear program.” King scowled at him. “I’m sorry,” Hanover said, “but the Prime Minister is very anti-nuclear.”
I just bet you’re sorry, King thought. “How do you plan to get me there?”
“Ship,” Hanover said. “The Queen Elizabeth can make the journey in a week. We’d send a plane, an airliner, but the CAA warns us that they’d need an airport designed to take them.”
“I’ll ask FDR to set one up,” King assured him. “When can I leave?”
“Tomorrow suit you?” Hanover asked. “Colonel George Palter, the senior American soldier, has been asked to go with you, along with a small bodyguard of Marines. Between you, you should be able to convince them of the truth.”
“Thank you,” King said. “Britain has been a good friend to America; I will ensure that that happens again.”
Hanover allowed himself a smile as the American departed; naively heading back to the land of Jim Crow. Perhaps he wouldn’t be lynched, but he suspected that it would be a close run thing. He closed his eyes in thought; how would the Americans react to the news?
“The other ambassadors have arrived,” McLachlan said. “Shall we go meet them?”
Hanover stood up and motioned for McLachlan to lead the way. “Did you read the report from Admiral Turtledove?” He asked. “Seven French planes blown out of the sky! Damn it, what I wouldn’t give for one super-carrier!”
“Blasted French,” McLachlan agreed. The long-awaited new carriers, designed to match the best American units, had been a joint project with France – and Smith’s predecessor had allowed the French to build them. On the day of the Transition, they’d been fitting out for testing. “At least we’re getting the Invincible out of mothballs.”
The door to the meeting room loomed ahead of them, two guards waiting at the door. They opened the door in unison and the two men stepped in; the ambassadors from the nations of the British Commonwealth waited for them.
“Thank you all for coming,” McLachlan said. “I assume that by now you all understand and believe in what’s happening?”
“I wish I didn’t,” David Atwell said. The Australian Ambassador looked tired. “I’ve had calls all day from people who want to get back to reshape Australian history.”
“We’re sending you back,” McLachlan said. “We have a unique opportunity to reshape the course of history and avoid past mistakes. For some of you, your nations are already independent in all, but name; for others, India for example, the remains of the Raj still rules.”
Ajeet Homchoudhury coughed. “Can we assume that independence will be granted as soon as possible?” He asked. “The people of India yearn to be free.”
Hanover nodded. “Quite frankly, we don’t want to hold India,” he said. “However, we would like to see India improve from what it went through during Partition. Don’t you think that that’s worthwhile?”
Homchoudhury nodded slowly. “Now,” Hanover said, “we would like you to invite the leaders of your nations to Britain for a meeting, one month from now. For those nations that aren’t independent, I would like you to invite the nationalists; Gandhi, Nehru, Jinnah and those like them. Once we have some agreement, we can begin distributing technology.”
Atwell scowled suddenly. “Will you assist in defence?”
Hanover nodded. “It’s not going to be easy,” he said. “Once the news reaches Japan, they might just jump against our possessions before we can reinforce them. We can spare some aircraft for Australia; the problem is that we don’t have a large army. Any other questions?”
“Remind me never to ask for more questions,” Hanover said afterwards. He sipped a glass of malt whiskey gratefully. “They all seem to think that we’re going to re-enslave them.”
“We will be the centre of the new world order for some time,” McLachlan pointed out. “It’s natural for them to be worried about their place in that order.”
Hanover shrugged. “How did your meeting with the industrialists go?”
“Oh, we’re going to have some pretty legal problems,” Hanover said. “Those Japanese electronic factories belong to people long dead, or unborn, or at war with us, or will be at war with us.” He snorted. “We’re going to have to invent our own terminology for this sort of thing.”
“So, what did you end up with?” McLachlan asked, sipping his own drink. “What will happen?”
“I think that a new Act will be passed, basically handing ownership to the current directors, most of whom were front men to avoid European Union regulations and tariffs,” Hanover said. He chuckled. “They were delighted. Once we get a steady stream of materials, we can begin churning out consumer goods to pay for stuff in America.”
“Coming to think of it, who holds the rights to all the American movies?” McLachlan asked. “Think of what will happen once Hollywood gets its hands on movies that haven’t been made yet!”
Hanover’s pager buzzed. Absently, he picked up the phone on the wall and dialled PJHQ. “Hanover,” he said. “Has the attack begun?” He listened to the reply and felt his jaw drop. “John, the Germans have contacted us,” he said. “They seem to want to exchange the children from the crashed plane – and one adult – for the Germans currently living in the UK.”
Chapter Ten: Final Moments of Peace
10 Downing Street
London, United Kingdom
11th July 1940
Howard Smith knew that he looked terrible as he took his seat at the head of the table. The War Cabinet looked back at him, with varying degrees of concern, sympathy and calculation in their eyes. The young army officer waited for him to give permission; Smith waved a hand in his direction. He knew that he was too tired to proceed – and also that he had no choice.
“Two hours ago,” Stirling began, “a woman called Sarah Oliver received a phone call from her brother, Jim Oliver. This was unexpected, as she’d been mourning him; Jim was one of the people lost overseas. Apparently, he was on the flight that we destroyed.” He took a breath. “Incidentally, the manifest for the flight we know he was on includes a history professor, several doctors and a small cross-section of other skills. Oliver himself is listed as a data courier; currently working for Cougar Industries, in Glasgow.