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"Yes." He hesitated and then added in a soft tone of voice, "We don't know what happened to the alternate universe's Mimi Wylde. But we can assume that Time did not allow her to jump tracks."
The thought that any version of Mimi had been left alone in that destroyed universe nearly undid me.
"She'll be dead, Jack," he told me, resting his hand on my shoulder again. "That universe is dead. But when Sergei picked up Alternate Universe Carrie, he probably killed Alternate Universe Mimi Wylde while he was at it. Time doesn't leave loose ends."
I bunched my hands into fists, wanting to kill Sergei Ivanov all over again.
"Charles can go with you because Time needs you to succeed," Clive went on, "and you need his particular skillset once you reach the 21st century."
"Why does Time need me to succeed, Clive?" I asked.
Did he know that Time had been planning this for centuries? Did he know why this moment was so important?
He looked out over the manicured lawn toward the hidden garden where Orion 0 was waiting.
"I've always known we were pawns on Time's chessboard," he said quietly. "I've never questioned that fact. Time needs us to do the things it cannot. That's the whole reason for the Academy. It's why it exists. Parliament can't see that. All it sees is a money pit. But we're not just protecting the British Isles. The Prime Minister has missed that salient fact. He thinks RATS belongs to England. He thinks it owes the country something. But he's got it all wrong. The world owes RATS. And without RATS, the world would be doomed."
It wasn't something I hadn't thought of myself or heard Clive ramble on about in the past. It was the one argument he and the PM had on a regular basis. One that could send Clive off on a rant for long minutes if left unchecked. The Prime Minister wanted RATS to be self-sufficient. As had been proven recently, wecouldmake some money. But would it ever be enough?
"I've presented a plan to the PM that turns RATS into an international entity," Clive said. "I've presented it in various forms several times now. Each time he has knocked me back. The King agrees with me, but his powers are limited in this; it's a government matter. His support, though, is all that kept me in my role for so many years."
"And then the PM sent in Anderson," I said.
"And then the PM sent in Anderson."
"He's planning something," I said. "Anderson is his fall guy, I'm sure of it."
"Of course he is. The Prime Minister plans for Anderson to fail and his failure will allow the PM to reorganise RATS once and for all. But he needs that failure. And he needs it to be big. It's the only way the House of Lords will back him. And he needs the House of Lords if he's to take over control of the Academy completely."
"The House of Lords backs the King," I said.
"Until they don't," Clive told me. He straightened his suit jacket and looked back at the house. "We should do this," he said. "Before the PM realises, I'm not as contained as he thought."
"He'd come here?"
"I wouldn't put it past him."
"Your family?"
"Have gone into hiding. No one else is home. It's just been us."
Clive and his son, waiting for me. It wouldn't have been a long wait. Clive had planned this, right down to entering the coordinates into the Orion for me.
I looked at Charles. He met my eyes steadily. I saw his father's strength of character in them. I saw his own experiences stare back at me. I saw a fine-tuned killing machine.
"It's a shame Mimi didn't have you at her side when she faced off against Sergei," I told him.
Charles didn't answer me; I don't think the man said an awful lot, quite frankly. But it was Clive that spoke the words, "Maybe next time, she will."
My head flicked around so I could look at my old mentor, but Clive had started walking toward the overgrown garden, swinging his cane freely at his side. Not a limp in sight. He might have even been whistling.
"How do you put up with him?" I muttered to the stoic man beside me.
"It's better if you just go with it, sir," he said and followed in his father's footsteps.
With not much else available to me, I followed behind them both, feeling worried and not just a little unsure. And wondering what thoughts Clive Crawford was having inside that Machiavellian head of his.
And whether they were as bad as I feared them to be. As bad as this moment was big.
