Weaver Read Free Page B

rather good research institution. It’s called the Ahnenerbe - it reports to Himmler, you know. Some quite innovative research into racial origins. I wrote to them ...’ She opened her briefcase and extracted a battered volume. It was a history of Rome.
    Her Nazi scholars had not been able to retrieve Rory’s testament in full. But elements of it had been recorded in an autobiographical work by the Emperor Claudius. That work too was lost, but there were references to it in other histories, from which, with a little care and some guesswork, some of Rory’s lines had been reconstructed. She passed her book to Ben, opening it at a marked page. He read in disbelief, the text pale on old, yellowed paper:
    Remember this: We hold these truths self-evident to be -
I say to you that all men are created equal, free
Rights inalienable assured by the Maker’s attribute
Endowed with Life and Liberty and Happiness’ pursuit.
O child! thou tapestried in time, strike home! Strike at the root! ...
    ‘By all that’s holy,’ Ben said, his heart hammering.

    Julia smiled. ‘Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. How delightfully gauche!’
    ‘It seems I did it,’ Rory said, his own eyes wide. ‘These are my own words, cooked up in 1940, transmitted through the centuries, and now written down in this battered old history book. I never saw the proof before. I failed in my plan - Constantine survived - but the Loom works.’ He laughed, but it was a brittle sound.
    ‘You could not have done this,’ Ben said weakly. ‘I am an integral part of the Loom - my supposed precognition—’
    ‘He drugged you,’ Julia said simply. ‘Drugged you, and used you in your sleep. Would you have stopped him?’
    ‘Of course I would.’
    ‘Why? Because you’re a fan of Constantine?’
    ‘No.’ He looked at Rory with gathering horror. ‘Because I have come to believe that the Loom, if ever operated, is a monstrous danger. The Loom is a weapon that destroys history, not creates it!’
    ‘Yet it works,’ Rory said flatly.
    ‘Yes,’ Julia said. ‘Hitler despises Christianity, you know. He says it amounts to the systematic cultivation of failure. I think he’ll rather approve of your attempts to destabilise the faith, Rory.’
    ‘What do you mean by that?’ Rory snapped.
    ‘I really believe the Ahnenerbe is the place to carry forward this project of yours, don’t you think? With proper funding and some decent researchers - not some half-trained Irish monkey and a mixed-up Jewish dreamer - with a better calculating machine than the antiquated gadget at MIT—’
    ‘You want to give a time machine to the Nazis?’ Ben felt weak. ‘Oh, that’s a good plan.’
    Rory asked, ‘So you’re planning to support Hitler?’
    Julia shrugged. ‘What do you care? Ireland is neutral in the war.’
    ‘But your own country isn’t.’ Rory stood up. ‘You English aristocrats are all the same. You and your bloody empire. Now it’s better Hitler than a Labour government, eh? Well, you’re not going to give my work to that gang of thugs.’ He raised a fist and closed on her.
    It happened in an instant. From somewhere Julia produced a gun. Ben had time to notice how small it was, how exquisitely made, how expensive it looked. She raised the pretty, silver-plated pistol. She shot Rory in the heart. Rory looked surprised, and he stared down at the bloody mess of his chest. He shuddered; he crumpled and fell.
    ‘Well, that’s a bit unfortunate,’ Julia said. ‘We have made rather a mess of the apartment, haven’t we? I don’t need him. No doubt everything’s here among these books and papers. But, of course, I need you. She turned to Ben and smiled. ‘You and your dreams.’
    ‘You want to hand me over to your Ahnenerbe. To the Germans.’
    ‘They’re here already. All around the building.’
    ‘They’ll love you in Nazi Germany,’ he said.
    ‘Oh, they will. They do! Now, will you come with me quietly or—’
    He was still