The Alpha Choice (52 page)

Jon took a moment, before speaking. ‘I need to speak to Nathalie, we always speak on the phone when she gets to her hotel. I've no idea how long ago I came here. If I don’t call her she’ll ring me and…’ he held out his hands to his sides as though to emphasise the fact that he was wearing a tee shirt and boxers, and had no telephone.

‘We have already taken care of that,’
Jane
assured him. ‘Nathalie believes you have already spoken, and whilst she cannot recall the details of your conversation, she is content in the knowledge that you will not be speaking for three days. By then, if you succeed, we will reset her memory. If you fail, it will not matter.’ In answer to Jon’s unspoken question, she added. ‘I appreciate that we are presently observing the stricture of non tampering with minds, more in the breach, however, these are minor matters in the overall scheme.’

If he could read any expression in her face, he would have expected a tinge of wry amusement to show around her eyes, but as with everything else she said, there was no trace of emotion whatever. All he could do was nod.

Δ
∞

At that moment a figure, or to be more accurate, a figure sitting in an armchair appeared beside him. Jon was not surprised, it was as though the figure had always been there, and he had only just noticed. He looked at
Jane
and thought,
you’re messing with my mind again.
If she knew what he was thinking, she gave no indication, neither did she pay any attention to the visitor.

The figure was a man, or at least it looked like a man. While
Jane
was beautiful, he was elderly. He was probably handsome in his day, whenever that was; he still retained a good head of hair, completely white, and a strong jaw. He was of slim build with slightly stooped shoulders and wore a simple black jacket and old grey trousers that had seen better days, reminding Jon of the clothes his Granddad wore on his frequent forays to the allotment. Unlike his Granddad, the
man’s
feet were bare.

The newcomer, like
Jane
had piercing electric blue eyes and like her, no expression was discernible on his face. He extended his hand saying, in a quiet but authoritative voice. ‘I apologise that I was not here
to greet you.’ Jon shook the proffered hand: the grip was what he would expect from an old man, dry and a little weak.
 

As the
man
settled back in his chair, Jon realised his mistake in thinking
Jane
possessed the ultimate emotionless voice. Compared to her friend, her voice radiated discernible warmth. Again recollecting his Granddad, he decided on a name, ‘I’ll call you
Alf
.’
 

Alf’s
response mirrored
Jane’s.
 

‘Are you the one to help me?’ Jon asked.

‘No, you will be assisted by another, who will be here shortly.’

‘Just as matters have been explained to you, I have discussed what is to happen with your companion. She is very capable.’

Well,
thought Jon,
she’d better be an athletic, computer wiz, if we’re going to going to have a hope of pulling this off.

‘
Why are you doing all this?’

‘Some of us have a fondness for you race. In my case, my interest was aroused by examples of extraordinary music. Some compositions I find to be exquisite, particularly the compositions of the older Bach, Mozart and Beethoven. I have attended all of their concerts.’

The absurdity of this statement hit Jon on two fronts: it never occurred to him that beings this emotionless could like anything as esoteric as
music; and how could
Alf
seriously expect him to believe he had attended concerts hundreds of years ago? He stole a glance at
Jane
, who maintained her uncanny impression of a statue.

Alf
continued. ‘Individually, their music is sublime, together their compositions exceed much that I have heard, which is no small achievement.’

‘I'm sorry, but it isn't possible that you heard them together. From what I know, Mozart and Beethoven met only once, if at all, when Beethoven was a teenager, and I’m not aware of them composing together, and even if they did meet, Bach was long dead by then…and I’ve no idea why I’m getting involved in this insane discussion!’

If he felt insulted,
Alf
hid it well.
‘I facilitated a meeting between them when they were each at the height of their powers. It was necessary to correct Ludwig’s hearing, but at least he had the benefit of knowing the music of the other two, whereas Johann possessed no knowledge of the works of his fellows. Once I provided each with the full canon of the others’ work you can imagine the effect.’

Jon shook his head. The thought that this might be a strange and frightening dream, came back to him. On the brink of Armageddon, he was having a conversation about music! Things had progressed beyond strange, to the surreal, but if it was a dream there was no harm in following the thread of this imaginary strange character. ‘Facilitated a meeting?
’

‘I extracted them from, what you might call, their timezones and returned them when we were done. They got on tremendously well, the ideas flew and they were as enthusiastic as children. Of course, I explained to them that following the meeting they would each be returned to their true existence, with no knowledge of what had transpired. They did not mind at all, and even offered to write some works for me, which I accepted. When I attend their concerts, naturally they do not recognise me.’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘Because I wanted to.’

‘You can’t just turn up and take people away!’ Jon heard himself exclaim.

‘Why not?’ The response was as impersonal, as it was blunt.

‘Because, it isn’t…right!’

Alf
simply looked at him without saying anything. Having those emotionless eyes regarding him made Jon very uncomfortable, so much so, he had to avert his gaze.

A long period of silence was broken by him asking a question that just popped into his mind, making him wonder whether he, or one of the beings opposite, was its source. ‘Surely they were missed?’

‘They were with me for six months as you would measure it, but no time elapsed where they had been, because they were outside normal space-time. Wolfgang was about to take a sip of red wine when he came to see me. Upon his return, he was still raising the glass to his lips, and his companions were none the wiser.’
 

Once again, Jon was confused. ‘How is that possible, how can you travel backwards in time?’

He noticed the first sign of, what might have been emotion on
Alf’s
face, as an eyebrow was fractionally raised. ‘Time travel as you put it, is an oversimplification of the process. There is no travel either forwards, or backwards,’ Jon’s face must have reflected his utter confusion, as
Alf
added, ‘but it will suffice for this discussion. A number of races visit previous timelines. No harm can be done, as it is not possible to alter history. If anything is removed it will return to the precise moment and place of its origin, either naturally, or by design.’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand.’

‘Let us say, a man steps into a road and is fatally struck by a vehicle. One consequence of this man’s death is that he is not in place to prevent a disaster, that will cost the lives of thousands. Let us also say that in an effort to save those lives, you have the power to step into that point in time, and snatch him from the path of the vehicle. In so doing, you take him out of normal space-time. Unfortunately, for your plan, he must return to the exact time and place of his extraction. You may, if you have the technology, keep him for some weeks even months, but he will return and all that you did would be for nothing.’

Alf
must have considered the explanation sufficient, as he moved on to another topic. ‘You have been told of the danger you face, however, it is important that you know of the reasoning behind the decision to target your people.’
 

‘Why?’ Jon asked. ‘Isn’t it enough that I know what they intend to do?’

‘There is little we can do for you, but the knowledge I would impart may help you in your task. I can help you understand, if you will let me. It would involve me implanting thoughts into your mind. No more information than is absolutely necessary will be imparted, and your confusion would leave you. The process will not alter your mind, but simply facilitate understanding,’ he then uttered the reassurance, ‘there will be no residual effects.’

Jon knew that if these beings were capable of spiriting him away from his bed, to goodness knows where, and travelling through time, they could harm him if it suited them. The fact that they were asking permission, convinced him his brain would remain unscrambled.
Anyhow
, he thought,
Jane has already tinkered with my mind without
causing any
problems…at least for now
. He looked at her for assurance, he had only met her minutes ago, or was it longer? He had lost all track of time, yet he felt, bizarrely, that she would not let harm come to him.
 

Her look conveyed nothing.

‘Fine,’ he replied, ‘feel free,’ and closed his eyes.

‘That will not be necessary,’
Alf
assured him.

He opened his eyes. ‘It didn’t work, nothing happened.’

‘Tell me about the Tellans.’

Without any effort, information flooded into his consciousness. He knew about the turning point in the war between the Te and Balg - the name given to the Tellans, by the Te - as well as the true nature of the Te nemesis. He also knew of the decision of the Supreme Council to invade his planet. The history of the Te, and what motivated them to act as they did, was laid before him.
   

Part of him sensed that critical knowledge was being withheld. When he tried to picture the people who inflicted defeat upon the Te, he failed. They were important, that much he knew, and not just because of Gallsor, but why they figured so prominently, remained just out of reach. No, that was not right, he seemed to know that the answer was planted deep in his subconscious, to be revealed later when, and if his hosts deemed it necessary. He felt uncomfortable.
Maybe what’s being kept from me isn’t for our benefit,
he thought.
Are we minor, expendable players, in a much larger, and impossibly complex strategy?
He looked, in turn, at each of his hosts. ‘What can I tell you about Tellans? Not much, but that doesn't come as any surprise to you, does it? There’s something you’re not telling me. The story about the composers and time travel, why did you tell me that, what’s it got to do with the Te and my people?’

‘There is more we have to show you,’
Alf
replied.

‘Has it anything to do with time travel?’

‘Yes.’

‘It isn’t about the past, is it?’

‘No. I can give you the information as before, in a manner you will understand, but there is another matter we must then discuss.’

Jon nodded, but this time did not close his eyes and, at once, he understood why
travel
was, as
Alf
put it, an oversimplification. Stepping into the past was relatively straightforward, as it is already fixed at whatever point a traveller might choose to visit. The future was a different proposition, altogether. He knew the future has many possibilities, that are determined by events between the present, and the chosen point in the future. Some events would have no material effect upon the macro universe, but others might have monumental consequences. As none of the events are certain, the future is capable of being many things at the same time, depending on the myriad of things that can happen in the allotted time span. The number of variations would increase as the visitor ventured further into the future; what was experienced would be less coherent.

The visitor would be exposed to a kaleidoscope of futures, none of which would be determined. Some of the data invading the senses would be relatively stable, for instance, star systems are not frequently affected by short-term chance encounters, or events. Any incoherence would be a consequence of the acts of biological, especially sentient life forms. He also knew that it is impossible to interact with the future, for instance
Alf
could not remove a person, as he did with Bach et al; any visitor to the future would merely be an observer.

I wonder how my house would look in a hundred years,
he thought.

Alf
was looking at him, with his head tilted fractionally to one side,
is he listening in on my thoughts?
‘There’s something you’re not showing me.’

‘You need experience to fill the gaps in your knowledge. Simply
knowing,
is not enough. I think the area around your home, twelve years from now, would be a good place to start.’

He was listening in,
thought Jon.
   

‘Will it be safe?’ he looked at
Jane
while tapping his head. ‘I know the images and noises will be too much for me, and I’m not too excited about going mad.’

‘Do not worry,’ she replied, ‘much of what you would otherwise experience will be filtered out. It is important that you sense the underlying threat.’

With no further discussion and no sensation of movement, he found himself standing somewhere else,
Alf
being the only solid and tangible object in sight. As he expected, it was as though they were in some kind of transparent bubble, a natural effect of time incursion, according to his basic crash course in temporal mechanics. What unnerved him, was the complete lack of sound and the absence of what should have been an overwhelming number of images. Instinctively, he knew his companion was responsible.

He looked around to get his bearings. They were surrounded by flickering grey images, tantalisingly close, but insubstantial. The images had to be people, but they were just too vague and ephemeral.

Beyond the grey images were darker, more tangible shapes, which he took to be buildings, only some of which were changing shape. Then, he recognised the silhouette of his house, it held its shape for only a split second before being replaced by a larger building in the style of the villas he saw during his tour with
Jane
. That image remained for only a second before it was replaced by…nothing. The
nothing
remained for several more seconds, before his house returned for another, transient visit.