He stepped into the lobby and was greeted by a statue of a portly man; the impressively stout – and non-existent – Mycroft Holmes. Behind the old statue, which had been new the last time Somerville had entered the club, a second statue, of Lord Mycroft, had been added. Apart from the second statue, the club was exactly as he remembered it; neat and tastefully decorated.
An old man creaked up to him. He was dressed in the neat dark uniform of the club. Somerville found his eyes following the sharp cheekbones; could it really be…?
The man held out a small computer. LORD LINLITHGOW IS IN THE SPEAKING ROOM, the screen read. Somerville nodded politely and followed the man through corridors that had been unchanged in eighty years. They passed through a corridor displaying pictures of famous club members; Churchill, Jellicoe… and his blood ran cold as he saw an older version of himself, dressed in the uniform of a full Admiral. His promotion to Admiral had come later; Hanover had promoted him only a month ago.
He smiled suddenly as he saw a picture draped in black. Few people remembered that Kaiser Wilhelm had once been a member. Club rules forbade removing a picture, so when the Great War had broken out, his photograph had been covered in black. Lost in his thoughts, he was led into the Speaking Room and through an airlock far more complex than the hatch of a submarine.
“In here, sir,” the man said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Admiral.”
“Wilkins?” Somerville asked. The old man had been a young apprentice to the head butler, the feared Barker.
“Yes, sir,” Wilkins said. “Lord Linlithgow is inside, waiting.”
“I hope to talk to you later,” Somerville said, suddenly uncertain of his ground. What did one say to a boy who’d lived his entire life in the space of a second? Wilkins had been a young child, nervous and sickly, and now he was a confident man, clearly every bit as much the master of the club as Barker had been. A thought struck him. “What happened to Barker?”
“He retired in 1970,” Wilkins said. “He died the year afterwards; we all attended his funeral and the club had a day of mourning.”
“How apt,” Somerville said, and shook Wilkins’ hand, before entering the speaking room. It had changed little; the only addition was a series of small partitioned rooms added to one end of the living room.
“Somerville,” Lord Linlithgow said. “I trust that you had a pleasant journey?”
The dignified viceroy sounded sour. Somerville didn’t blame him; Linlithgow had confidently stated that the Raj would last until 1980, learning that it would not have lasted past 1947 – and that it would now not last past 1941 – had been a shock.
“I suppose it was an interesting journey,” Somerville conceded. “I have been slated to command the Mediterranean Fleet, again. Our ships are tougher than theirs.”
“And they were the subject of this meeting,” Linlithgow said. “I dare say that you had hoped that this was all a practical joke?”
Somerville nodded. “Your Excellency, I feared that the Germans had invaded Britain when we lost contact, but when…”
“I am not certain that that would not have been preferable,” Linlithgow interrupted. “I have been busy, the past week, exploring the brave new world.” He spat once. “What sort of world is it where the Empire no longer exists, where we suck up to the Americans and where we give away jewels like Hong Kong?”
“A very different one,” Somerville said. “Things will be different, this time around.”
“Will they?” Linlithgow asked. “Look at their histories; India will be sundered into three components, South Africa will grant self-determination to niggers, and look how they bring Africa into a collapse. Colonists who have risked their lives in pursuit of the white man’s burden abandoned to the mercies of savages who know nothing about how to make a country grow. Hong Kong will be ruthlessly purged by China in 2010; far too much democracy for them. Even America will stagger under attacks by ragged sand-niggers. What sort of world is it for us?”
“The future?” Somerville suggested. “We have begun work on integrating the former French colonies into a trading empire that will be stronger than the old empire, we have begun to offer the Indians a chance to…”
“Destroy themselves,” Linlithgow snapped. “There are far more factions within India than the ones invited to the Imperial Conference Pah! What about the Sikhs, or the Jain, or the different groups within the princely states? This is going to be a complete disaster, I know it, but do they listen to the man with the most experience? Of course not!
“And what about your people? Will the ordinary seamen fit in here? How many incidents have we had already; men clashing with wogs and niggers, who seem to think that they have a right to live here? What about the army; will General Wavell’s men he happy living here? What can they do? How many skills do they have? Many of them have lost wives and sweethearts – and then they’re coming home to a Britain that has no use for them!”
“I understand your point,” Somerville said carefully. A servant arrived with a tray of bone china teacups and a pot of tea. The servant was Indian; he departed as silently as he arrived, after pouring the tea for the two men. “Still, what can we do about it?”
“The Monarch no longer holds the respect of his people or the government,” Linlithgow said. “I have read the histories of King Charles; stupid life, stupid wife and stupid second marriage. The heir shows promise, but has publicly threatened to leave; the second in line disgraced the country by wearing a Nazi armband! That fool Hanover is running the country, and taking us down the path to ruin!”
Somerville sipped his tea. It was as fine as he remembered. “Unfortunately, this is not a cheap novel, with a handful of people moving in time,” he said. “This is an entire nation; the effects are profound. Already, we have forced the Germans from North Africa; we are in a position to affect the entire history of the continent for the better.”
“Indeed,” Linlithgow said. “I have spent the week examining the histories and consulting with… people. I do not intend to return to India; I imagine that Hanover will appoint some kind of… commissioner or Governor-General to oversee the transition to independence. Of course, with a possible threat from Japan, they will have to defend the nation; there is no way that an independent India can gain control of its army in time to protect the nation, should the Japanese attack. I have been talking to Prime Minister Menzies, of Australia; they are terrified at the possibility of a Japanese invasion, particularly with the revolts on the Dutch East Indies.”
Somerville nodded. The Dutch Government-In-Exile had vanished along with Britain, and they had left the East Indies up for grabs. Already, local factions were advancing their claims, the Japanese were moving in for the kill, and Menzies was demanding a pre-emptive occupation. The Japanese conquest – there really was no other term – of French Indochina, despite American protests, placed them far too close to Singapore for comfort. Fortunately, General Percival had been removed, along with a large number of Japanese spies.
“I have also been talking to Prime Minister Smuts,” he continued. “He was less than happy to know the future of South Africa, despite the delegation of niggers from here that went to see him. He was in fact looking for new immigrants, and I suggested that he might offer good terms to our Contemporary personnel, as is my duty as the senior surviving person.”