Day of the Assassins (15 page)

T
he professor started to speak, “What is the meaning…?” Kessler put his finger to his lips, “Please, Professor, no trouble now. If you would like to come with us, I assure you, you and your, er, family, will come to no harm. No harm at all.”

They were marched through the station concourse causing a flurry of heads to turn in the crowd.

“What's this all about?” Angus whispered.

“Well one thing's for sure… this lot don't look like VIGIL agents – more like royal life guards or something,” Jack replied.

“That's exactly what they are…” the professor said out of the corner of his mouth.

But Anna, for one, was not going to hang around for confirmation. Suddenly, she elbowed the guard next to her in his solar plexus and then bit his hand – hard. She writhed free and made a dash into the thronging crowd on the concourse. One of the guards raised his rifle. But it was too late – Anna was gone.

Kessler swore and harshly reprimanded the guards, who now gripped Jack, Angus and the professor firmly by the arm, so they could not try a similar stunt. They were bundled unceremoniously into a waiting motor van outside. The professor protested again, but was ignored, and the van rumbled off with the trio in the back with two guards.

The professor rattled the mesh that separated them from the driver's cabin.

“What's happening? Where are you taking us?”

Kessler replied evenly, “Please calm down, Professor, all will be explained shortly.”

The van rumbled along and from their cramped position inside it was difficult to make out their direction through the streets of Vienna.

Jack was scared, “What's going on, Professor?”

“No idea and I don't know Vienna well, but if these are Austrian officials… there are a limited number of places they would be taking us… a police station, maybe one of the jails, maybe even the Belvedere…”

“Or maybe there…” Angus pointed through one of the slit windows. Through the narrow aperture they caught sight of the most incredible building that Jack had ever seen. In books he had seen pictures of the Palace of Versailles, outside Paris, but this seemed to eclipse even that.

The professor nodded knowingly, “Schönbrunn. It's Schönbrunn Palace. The home of the Habsburgs. This is where the emperor lives.”

“Looks like they have plenty of rooms.”

“One thousand four hundred and forty-one at the last count,” the professor said.

“Why do they have so many?” Angus asked.

“Because they can,” Jack replied.

As the modest entourage filed around the outskirts of the palace, Jack craned his neck to get a better view of the magnificent building. From whichever angle you looked, it exuded splendour. Jack had seen wealth in his own time, of course, and had heard people bemoan the gap between the ‘rich' and the ‘poor', but he had never seen wealth like this.

They were led into an entrance at the rear of the palace, up some stairs and then through an increasingly ornate series of passages and state rooms. Finally, they entered a vast gallery, it must have been at least forty-five metres long, and it stopped Jack in his tracks. Along one side, a series of massive arched windows displayed the formal gardens beyond. Opposite these, huge gilt-framed mirrors reflected the light to make the whole room appear even larger. Above them, the ceiling was painted with three grand frescos between which hung crystal chandeliers, which looked like oversized wedding cakes.

“The Great Gallery,” the professor muttered.

Jack was stunned by the extraordinary opulence. The place was making him feel very small indeed. Half way down the gallery, they were ushered into an unusual oval-shaped room. Lacquered compartments of varying shapes and sizes were set into white-painted wooden panels in the walls. Each compartment was framed in gilt and housed its own piece of blue-and-white porcelain sculpture. Kessler gestured to them to sit at an ornate table, and spoke for the first time since their hurried journey from the station.

“Count Sieghard will join us shortly. In the meantime, I will ensure that you receive some refreshments.” He said no more and slipped quietly from the room.

“Count Sieghard…” Angus whispered, “Who's he?”

They didn't have to wait long to find out.

The guards stationed by the door barely flinched as a tall, grey-haired man swept into the room. The two guards quickly disappeared, closing the doors behind them. He was dressed in a high-collared double-breasted jacket with two columns of brass buttons and elaborate gold braid around the collar and cuffs. His trousers had a twin red braid down each side. Whoever he was, he was important.

He settled himself down at the end of the table from the three of them and they got a closer look at his face. He was perhaps in his forties, with finely chiselled features and a good head of silver hair which gave him an air of distinction. Jack thought there was something unusual about the man's face, which made him seem a little out of place… but for the moment he couldn't quite make out what it was. Then he realised. All the men he had encountered on his journey so far: Mueller, Kessler, the people in Innsbruck and at Vienna station, had moustaches. Some of them had real handlebar jobs. But this man had no moustache – which was strange – it put him quite out of place with his surroundings. In fact, he would have been much more at home in the City of London in a pinstriped suit.

The professor bravely managed to find his voice again, “Sir, I don't know who you are, or why we are here, but I am a member of…”

Count Sieghard raised his hand. It was all that was needed to
silence the poor professor on the spot.

“Please professor Pinckard-Schnell,” he talked smoothly in crisp English with effortless confidence. “Of course we owe you an explanation… and to you as well, Jack and Angus,” he smiled. “My young time-adventurers.”

Jack and Angus exchanged glances nervously.

“I'm afraid that your friend, Herr Mueller, has somewhat landed you in it.”

The professor frowned, “Mueller? What has…”

“Yes, professor, I know he appears to be a complete idiot… and of course to some extent he is. But he is still a loyal idiot. Mueller didn't like what he was doing. But nevertheless felt he had to do it. I'm afraid he betrayed you. I don't think Herr Mueller really bought your story of being on holiday in the Alps, Professor. And, of course, the word had already gone out amongst our network, so we have been looking to pick up a man and two, er, younger men, with your description for over a day now. Mueller is an ex-member of the Austrian diplomatic corps… and he was able to correctly identify you when you appeared on his land. I'm afraid he had no choice but to turn you in.”

“So we are being held by the Austrian government? May I ask for what possible reason? We have done nothing wrong, and may I add, I am a citizen of the German Empire…”

Sieghard waved his hand dismissively, “Yes, yes Professor, please don't waste my time.”

The professor fell silent.

“I should introduce myself properly. This might make things a little clearer for you. You have probably heard my name by now. I expect my colleague, your Rector in fact, boys, may have referred to me. I chair VIGIL, and I have played a modest part in a not unimpressive scientific achievement…” He smiled for the first time. It was a little disconcerting. “The invention of time travel. And it has been my dubious pleasure, along with your Rector and the rest of our team, to try to prevent your father, Jack, from doing something completely mad…. My real name, of course, is not Count Sieghard at all, but Inchquin. Counsellor Inchquin.”

It took a little while for them to take in what Counsellor Inchquin had said and then it slowly dawned on them. Here was the Rector's boss: the man who chaired VIGIL and directed their whole secret operation. He was the one who was responsible for having them chased half way around Europe. He was, in fact, the man who controlled time travel.

“Yes, I know it must all seem rather confusing… so perhaps I should explain. First of all, you've probably gathered that you are at Schönbrunn Palace. The home of the Habsburgs and the centre of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The current occupants might be alarmed to find that in our time, nearly a hundred years from now, seven million tourists a year tramp through the palace and its gardens. But anyway, how do I come to be here?” he nodded as if to say ‘good question' to a point that they had not even raised.

“Well, with the significant benefit of hindsight and VIGIL's encyclopedic knowledge of history, it has proved quite easy to insert myself into the apparatus of the Austrian bureaucracy – acting as a visiting foreign diplomat. Although I have no executive role here – that would be far too intrusive in terms of my impact on the future course of history – I have a temporary position that allows me to know what is going on. Call me a special agent if you will. And of course knowing the personal history of some of the key players makes it a little easier for me to influence, if I must, and tidy up any damage that your journey might cause. Hindsight is a wonderful thing,” he paused. “Yes, I have access to them all: the Austrian Premier, Count Sturkh; the Hungarian Premier, Count Tisza…” He shrugged, “And, if I were to need it, an audience with the Emperor Franz Joseph himself, is easily arranged…” He sighed with satisfaction, “Now we understand what Pendelshape and your father are up to we have had to put in place contingency plans. Thus my rather unusual presence here. But currently, we have no need to do anything. Everything seems to be moving along quite nicely. Just as the course of history intended. And that is exactly how it should be.”

Inchquin now looked at them more gravely, “This war will happen despite the antics of my old colleague, Christie, and Pendelshape…”

The professor spoke up bravely, “Counsellor Inchquin, I think I speak for the boys here as well as myself. We have no wish to become embroiled in something we do not understand. We have become involved in this simply by chance. We are innocent victims. All we wish, is to return to our lives.”

“Do you really think there is such a thing as ‘chance' Professor?” Inchquin snapped. “History is determined. There is a required course of events and we meddle with them at our peril. Although you protest to be innocent bystanders, I am afraid that you are involved whether you like it or not. We must therefore consider very carefully what we do next. I think the Rector explained the VIGIL Imperative and the delicate role we in VIGIL must play in terms of preventing and controlling interventions that are made in history. And this is not helped by fools like your father, Jack,” he added bitterly.

The professor tried to stay calm, “Counsellor Inchquin, we have no desire to interfere with your plans…”

Of course, Jack knew what the professor really thought, and that this was a lie.

Inchquin shrugged, “Sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures. We are dealing with matters of utmost importance and now we must take executive action…”

“What does that mean?”

“It's just as the Rector explained to you. While we have you we can protect you from your father. You are the only hold that we have over him. I'm afraid that you will be incarcerated here until we can get a time signal to send you back home where you will need to be protected at all times from him. Until we can get you home we must limit your contact with the outside world, but…” he added with a little more warmth, “we will try and make your stay as comfortable as possible.”

“You're going to lock us up again?” Jack said.

“It is for your protection.”

“What about the war?” the professor said, his voice rising in agitation. He immediately wished he hadn't.

Inchquin looked at the professor, “What about it? When Princip pulls the trigger in Sarajevo on Sunday, four days from now, then the
cogs of history will grind inexorably forward and we will have our war. I will stay here to ensure the diplomatic process is smoothly executed. And you will stay here, Jack, to ensure that neither your father, nor Pendelshape for that matter, do anything stupid. If they do I fear your father may find himself without an heir.”

Inchquin's words hung ominously in the air. There was no emotion, no histrionics. There didn't need to be. He held all the cards.

“Ah. One thing I nearly forgot. Your time phone, Angus,” Inchquin held out a hand, “If you please.”

Angus reluctantly removed the precious device from his pocket and slid it over the table. Inchquin eyed the time phone in his hand.

“Thank you,” he nodded. “I must say, very impressive of your father, Jack, to recreate all this. And he was certainly taking a risk by giving this to you, Angus. He must have known it might fall into our hands. But that's just like him. Brilliant – but impetuous. A risk taker. He hasn't changed. But now, finally, I have a time phone that is linked to his Taurus. We can use it to give him a little surprise.” He flipped open the time phone and peered at the display, “As I thought. No signal. But there will be at some point, and then we'll be able to locate your father and his Taurus and get rid of this whole annoying problem once and for all.”