The desert seemed endless to Lieutenant Reeves of the 12th Royal Lancers. He had been here twelve months, and still could not grasp the enormity of all the desolation around him. There was nothing in the desert, except the occasional camelthorn, weathered limestone, sandy salt marshes, camel dung and the inevitable hordes of black flies. It was no place for any sane man to be, and even less so now, with this impossible news that had just been laid on all the battalion commanders.
Insane… This was the way he felt inside now, empty, desolate, thunderstruck to the point of madness. The meeting he had just had with Brigadier Kinlan had left him slack jawed with disbelief. All the other battalion commanders had reacted the very same way, amazed and perplexed with what the General was telling them.
Something had happened when the Russians attacked them, some unaccountable exotic effects of the nuclear detonation. That was the way he had tried to explain it. There was blast, radiation, electromagnetic pulse-all three well known and guarded against. But this was something altogether different. This was an effect on time itself, the fourth dimension. The detonation caused displacement in time for a limited quantity of mass within the effect radius.
Displacement in time!
He shook his head, still dazed with the news, hearing Kinlan’s words like an echo in his mind. “… It’s happened to the Russians themselves, who knows how, but that’s how they lost that battlecruiser in the Norwegian Sea. We all heard about the suspected accident there-a nuclear accident. We all knew they lost that Oscar class sub, and the word was that Kirov went down with it, but that was not so. The damn ship turned up in the Pacific a month later. Well, here’s some more news for you. This Russian Marine detachment Reeves collared with that KA-40 was commanded by the Captain of that very same ship! He was the one who put this explanation forward. I thought it was a load of rubbish just like you must now, but the evidence has been mounting with each passing hour, and it leads to only one conclusion. Sultan Apache, the odd differences in moon phase and star data, the loss of all satellite and comm-links-it’s all adding up to only one thing-time displacement. It’s happened to us, gentlemen, and from everything we’ve been able to piece together at Brigade HQ, we’ve been blown clean out of the 21st Century! We figure the date and time now is the 2nd of February… in the year 1941!”
That had been greeted by blank stares, an uncomfortable shift in posture from the men assembled, a smile from others who thought Kinlan was just trying to lighten the mood before the brigade set out on what was likely to be its last road march. But it was no joke.
General Kinlan knew he had to tell the men something before they moved north with the prospect of battle before them. Yet he could not tell them everything, just as the Russian Captain had urged. Some would have to know, but not to the whole rank and file. They would learn just as the crew of that ship learned the hard truth. In the end he decided to limit the news to his senior officers. He had to place faith in their training and discipline, and hope for the best. He made an all points announcement stating they had been informed of enemy activity ahead, a large unidentified force attempting to block their move north. He said they were using antiquated equipment, but that there was a lot of it, tanks, artillery and anti-tank guns. “Who knows,” he concluded, “maybe it’s Rommel and his Afrika Korps.”
He had tried to be a bit light hearted about it, saying they had also encountered Russians, but determined them to be no threat. They were apparently traveling with British officers, and should be treated as friendly. Then his voice became more serious and he related the disturbing news concerning Sultan Apache, saying it was a matter they were still looking into. That got quite a few men scratching their heads, but they gave it little mind and buckled down for action as any good soldiers would. Reeves heard the announcement over his comm-link command set radio, as did every man in his unit. He knew much more-the full briefing from Kinlan still clawing at him within, but he could not be forthcoming with the men just yet. He had been handed the job of going out to obtain the final evidence on all this.
“If any of this is true,” Kinlan had told him, “then you should run into the German Army out there somewhere. Take your battalion north and scout well ahead of the main column. I want to know what we’re looking at here, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I don’t want photographs or thermal imaging data, I want flesh and blood men, and the cold hard steel of a vehicle. You’re the best in the business, Reeves. Get this done…”
“How you figure that?” said Sergeant Williams, a voice suddenly filling the void within him and bringing Reeves back to this impossible here and now. “The whole place gone?”
