“You are not allowed to work beyond your own time. I’m sorry, but that’s the rule.”
I smiled. “I’m not sure I would want to.”
“Anything else?” he asked.
I shook my head. My brain still hurt in any case.
“Probably, but I can’t think of anything right now. It’s all somewhat confusing.”
He took me down the corridor to a laboratory type room. A grey-haired man in a ubiquitous white coat was introduced to me. He was Doctor Harry Horsefall.
A nurse stabbed me with a hypodermic syringe taking a DNA and blood sample from my arm. I watched as a computer generated design program initiated the design of my construct.
The procedure paused with the legend: -
Select Construct Gender: MALE FEMALE
Both men looked at me, so I thought about it, then I leaned over and pressed the button.
FEMALE
The program commenced, so I was able to input on height, weight, bust, hips, waist, hair colour, eye colour and many other features.
The computer-generated end-product had me gasping in wonder. I could see me, but a very different and wonderful ‘me’. It was the ‘me’ I had always wished I had been. A veritable goddess, with long limbs and a sumptuous body, for whom men would be liable to fight each other and might even die.
“Any alterations?” Harry asked me, as the exceptionally lifelike, three-dimensional image of this goddess rotated on the vertical axis on the screen. She seemed about as perfect as I could have ever dreamed.
“No.”
He pressed some keys on the keyboard.
“How long does it take, for real, I mean?” I asked.
“Time has a whole new meaning here. She is ready now,” Michael explained, as the legend, ‘Construction complete’ appeared on the screen.
“Well, Ed, pleased?” Harry asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, she’ll do,” I said, smiling.
Michael smiled. “So, ready for your first assignment?”
I was surprised. “Already?”
“Why not?”
“What about training and preparation?” I asked.
“Your mind will be equipped with the language and customs of the era; and we’ve also downloaded many extras that will improve your ability to survive in that time, particularly as a female.”
“Such as?”
“Such as sewing and dressmaking, as well as certain musical, educational, equestrian and craft skills. As a matter of course, you will have a full a medical skills download, better than most doctors of the period in which you end up.”
“Thanks a bunch,” I said, wondering what I was getting into, but then recalled that I had been proficient at sewing in my years in the Marines.
How about some useful stuff, like fencing and basic metal work?” I asked.
“No problem, select what you want from the list,” Harry said, pointing at the screen.
I selected a few things I thought might be useful. Most had already been programmed into the system, so I smiled at their forethought. They’d done this before.
“So, what are we waiting for?” Harry asked. I looked at the two men, wondering the same thing. However, culturally, I was used to a mass of preparation before any operation.
“Don’t I have to read up on the period?”
“No.”
“What about the location, don’t I have to study maps and things?”
“No, look, I thought we’d explained all this to you. Once you go through the process, your mind will have all the necessary information already at hand when you arrive. This will include any and all intelligence you need for specific incidents that may occur in your zone.”
“What happens if it doesn’t?” I asked, stalling.
“It will, trust me. Part of the problem is your history. You see, sergeant, you’re used to short operations, with a wealth of intelligence gleaned by satellite or a team of analysts at Langley or the Pentagon, up to the minute and dynamic in its approach. You go in, do the job and get out again fast. You go in, do the job and get out again fast. There are contingency plans, back-up reserve units and evacuation plans considering every permutation. Now, you’re going in with scant intelligence, as you will have to gather the intelligence by being aware of your surroundings and the people you meet. There is no back-up, no evacuation plan and no way for calling for help. By the very nature of the task, you will need months to embed yourself in a community before you will be able to assess whether anything is strange or does not seem to fit in.” Michael said.
I opened my mouth to ask another question, but then closed it again. They’d done this before, so I had to trust them.
Didn’t I?
“Okay, let’s do it,” I said.
They told me to lie on a couch, while attaching various wires to me.
“Will it hurt?” I asked.
“Not at all, you won’t feel a thing.”
“And I’ll be back in a second?”
“Not necessarily, it could be a fraction less or more. The only certainty is that it’ll be after you leave,” Harry said.
I closed my eyes and had a thought. I didn’t know when or where I was bound.
I opened my eyes again.
“Where the hell am I going?” I asked.
“You’ll know when you get there,” was the diminishing reply. I swear I could hear him chuckle.
CHAPTER TWO.
Jane. England 1813.
Several miles south of the city of Oxford, in some woods, there was a large, deep and very muddy pond. The ‘window’ opened about six feet from the surface, once a scan revealed no sharp objects, deep water or hidden dangers, the construct was formed in the air, a few inches below the ‘window’. At the last moment, those characteristics that which made me unique were transmitted into the construct and I took my first breath as I fell.
I landed right in the middle of the puddle, stark naked and face down. I thought I would drown.
“Son of a bitch!” I shouted, after coughing and spluttering. I clambered out the filthy water. I noted that my voice was a husky soprano, and therefore I was grinning despite the unpleasant conditions.
I had had no opportunity to try out my new form, as my mind, together with the latest enhancements, had only been transferred to my new brain a nanosecond before I fell.
It was very cold. My fall had broken the thin coating of ice that was forming on the surface of the pond. Fortunately, my constructed body was efficient at keeping out the cold, but it was still human enough to feel it. As I was now wet as well, I knew I had to get dry and clothed as soon as possible.
It was dark. The moon occasionally gave off silvery splinters of light from between the black trees. I heard rustles amongst the trees, sensing animals moving about. My ‘downloaded’ memory, containing all kinds of interesting facts told me that these animals were in all probability foxes and badgers with perhaps the occasional deer. I knew that wolves, wild boar and bears were once common in England, so hoped that they were no longer as common as they used to be.
As a Marine, I’d been occasionally dropped into Arctic Alaska on survival courses. I had to evade capture and survive in the wilds for six weeks. At least they gave me some clothes and a few survival tools. Now, I had absolutely nothing, as the Centre had dropped me into an area where there was the least chance of discovery.
Simple instructions came to my mind; head towards Oxford and find somewhere to live in or near the Berkshire market town of Abingdon. This was the Napoleonic age, and the agency suspected that a pro-Napoleonic, pro-French, North American movement was attempting to subvert history. An intelligence source claimed that the group had links to this area. If the British workers could be provoked to revolt, then the French forces could sweep through Europe, opening Canada and the fledgling United States to Napoleon’s greed.