Dr. Snip Ch. 03

Looking for someone to punish, she stalked naked across the room to Agrippina. The Emperors sister was still playing with her equine lover. With a slap that echoed across the room, Angel hurled the perverted woman away from the frightened horse.

'Leave the poor fucking animal alone you stupid fucking cunt,' she screamed at the crumpled body of the Emperor's sister. In the stunned silence that followed she walked back over to Steve.

'Hold tight lover, lets go.'

'Just a moment Angel' said Steve through gritted teeth. He had see Caligula absentmindedly cuff the young slave boy out of the way, so he could see what was going on in the room. Clenching his fists, he strode towards the drunken ruler of the civilised world. The two guards were picking up the sobbing body of Caesar's sister and didn't see him coming. Steve moved Drusilla gently aside from Caligula's groin, and as the man looked up in annoyance Steve kicked him full in the testicles.

Steve stepped back quickly to avoid the alcohol, and partly digested food that sprayed from the emperor's mouth. Drusilla wasn't so fortunate, and her face and hair were drenched in her brother's vomit.

'All done,' said Steve as he returned to Angel. Before the astounded pain filled eyes of Caligula, the two people disappeared.

'That could have gone better,' she admitted when they were sat around Steve's kitchen table.

'Hey, the plan worked we know who has my QT, and now we can get it back,' he said optimistically.

'All we have to do is report him to your Prime Minister, and have him arrested,' he concluded.

'Peregrine Jeckell is Britain's War Minister, we wouldn't be believed for a moment. The PM dare not offend his most powerful Minister, without concrete proof of his guilt. Our Government has many opposing factions; the current thinking is to slowly take over the world by financial means.

Jeckell want's to revive the British Empire by force.'

'What with ten Storm Troopers?'

'That's his stumbling block, he is arguing for an increase in the number of Storm Troopers.'

'He's already got ten of the invincible fuckers, how many more doe's he want?'

'One Thousand.'

'Good God, whoever controlled a thousand of those monsters, would be able to rule the world.'

'Exactly, that's why the PM is dead against the idea.'

'What's to stop Jeckell assassinating the PM, and taking over?'

'Look in the mirror Steve,' answered Angel quietly. Puzzled Steve did as she asked, and looked into his kitchen mirror. Two people looked back at him. 'Oh fuck me.' He moaned.

'Good idea,' she said, 'lets go to bed and not think on it for a while.'

The Prime Minister of Great Britain; was the most powerful man in the world. His name was Marcus Armstrong, and if he wished he could ruin any other country he chose. Britain controlled the oil of the world; the Middle East was a radioactive desert.

Years ago Mossad the secret police of Israel; had intercepted a car bomb heading for Jerusalem. There had been many attempts to attack this most precious of cities, but this car bomb was the final straw. It contained a nuclear bomb, supplied by Iran.

The hawks of Israel, became afraid of the constant threats by their Arab neighbours. They finally used their ultimate weapon, and nuked Iraq, Iran, Syria, and the Lebanon. They had planned to leave Kuwait alone because of their oil. However the seismic shockwaves from the massive attack, had disturbed the geological makeup of the oil fields, and Kuwait's oil had run dry.

The industrial nations collapsed, including Britain. The countries like America that had oil of their own, slammed the door on exports. Even so the car died, as did lorries, diesel trains and Oil fired power stations.

Year's earlier, British scientists had discovered a way to travel in time. They did it using a phenomenon called Quantum Tunnelling. Machiavellian minds in the corridors of power; realised that they could go back in time to the Middle Eastern oil fields, and basically steal the oil from the ground. Transporting it back to Britain's oil tanks, via a larger version of the QT called a Portal.

The British Government kept Time Travel a secret, from the rest of the world. They went back to the oil fields of Arabia, ten thousand years in the past. Drilling equipment was sent through, and pumped oil through the portal into Britain's storage tanks. By selling and bartering the oil to a desperate world, Britain became rich and powerful again.

Using the excuse of repopulating the commonwealth. Britain forcibly sent the various ethnic groups back to their original countries, and followed the path of eugenics.

Britain embraced the ideal of the perfect human being. By using all its knowledge of genetics, it strove to create a healthy long-lived Briton, and came very close to that goal.

However there were always the megalomaniacs, Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, Julius Caesar, Stalin, Hitler, they all wanted to rule the world. Some came closer to it than others, but none succeeded. Peregrine Jeckell intended to succeed; he had a plan.

The world had never been more vulnerable. First the Aids plague finally exploded in Africa, wiping out sixty percent of the African population. Then the Chinese were hit by a mystery plague similar to the Black Death; that swept across the continent faster than they could contain it.

By the time it died down eighty percent of the Chinese people were dead, many of the deaths caused by the secondary effects of mass death. i.e. Breakdown in food production causing mass starvation, setting off civil wars to control what little there was left. China was no longer a factor in World politics.

The Russian countries fell back into the Middle Ages very quickly. Their various ethnic groups warring upon each other, until there were few left viable. India and Pakistan annihilated each other with their nuclear weapons; again the trigger was the Khyber Pass.

Afghanistan was wiped out by mistake, as a few Indian missiles overshot the target. America disintegrated into individual states again. The sea levels continued to rise inexorably, due to global warming. Despite Herculean efforts, there were devastating floods in all coastal regions.

The World needed a strong hand at the tiller. Great Britain had recovered fastest, and was now in a position to impose it's moral values on the rest of the world. The non-British were like unruly children, and just needed a firm hand to guide them.

Discipline and order must be restored, hopefully by reasoned argument but if necessary, by overwhelming force. The World had seen what had happened to all the countries that the British Empire had foolishly relinquished control of in the past. They had all degenerated into political and financial chaos, when the guiding hand of Great Britain had been removed.

Peregrine Jeckell intended to be that guiding hand; he knew that you couldn't make an omelette without breaking some eggs. He was quite willing to break eggs; he just needed more egg breakers. I.e.: British Storm Troopers. Unfortunately a sacrifice had to be made to achieve his goal.

The sacrifice was to be Peregrine Jeckell, at least the Peregrine Jeckell that now looked back at him from his mirror. He had just lost the last election to be PM by the narrowest of margins. The PM had made him War Minister as consolation. Given the advantage of hind sight, he intended to correct that result. He had recorded all the information that his earlier self needed, to ensure winning.

He didn't need to explain his plan to himself, as he had formulated his plan long before the election for PM. All his earlier self needed; was an edge, this QT device was that edge and he was going to use it.

He wasn't a stupid man, he fully realised that by changing the past his present would be wiped out, including the "him" that had changed it. However he steeled himself, the present "he" would in effect die. However the earlier "he" would be PM, and authorise the expansion of the Empire. There was also the chance; that he might in fact survive in an alternate universe, nobody could be sure.

The first thing he would do as PM; would be to disband the British Temporal Organisation, led as it was by that coward Cameron McDonald. They were a bunch of timid fools, afraid to change the past in case it changed the future. So what if it did, as long as Britain benefited, the risk was well worth it.

Their Agents had almost caught him in Rome, but he had been too clever and quick for them. That alone was proof, that he was the one man fit enough to lead the World. He would confiscate all the existing QT devices, and ensure that more were manufactured. No one would be able to stand against him.

Peregrine Jeckell was a hawk, and he was about to strike. He had played with the QT sufficiently, to be confident of arriving where and when required. He had done his best to avoid the effects of paradox. For example he could leave his information on sheets of paper, for his earlier self to read.

However the moment his earlier self decided to follow the instructions, the later him should cease to exist. Therefore he couldn't have written the information in the first place.

He had considered all the possibilities, and had realised that time travellers could well have been guiding mankind for centuries. Their chosen method? Dreams. How many times in the past, had great men followed their dreams to victory.

Who knows how many of them were whispered to in the night, by helpful time travellers. Those who acted upon their advice became successful, and later would say 'I had a dream.'

Taking a deep breath he activated the QT.

It was the final few days before the election of the new British PM. Peregrine Jeckell was fitfully dozing in his bed, his mind going over all the things he thought he had to do to win. He heard a strangely familiar voice whispering to him.

'Peregrine Jeckell, this is a dream, listen carefully. You will lose the election, unless you follow these instructions to the letter.'

A short succinct list of tasks was imparted.

'Who are you?' he mumbled still half asleep.

'Do you remember Miss Anderson at boarding School? You watched her masturbating, through a hole that you drilled in her bedroom wall. No one ever found out about that, and you never told anyone. I am you Perrywinkle, from your future, do as I ask and you will become PM.'

Peregrine Jeckell stood up from where he had been kneeling at the side of his earlier self's bed. He placed the QT on the floor by a pair of slippers, and quietly walked out of the room into the unknown. Peregrine Jeckell woke up that morning full of new ideas; he could see clearly what to do to succeed in the forthcoming election. He was revitalised and almost bounced out of bed.

As he put on his slippers, he was astonished to see what appeared to be a QT device lying on his carpet by his slippers. He recognised it for what it was immediately, he had seen one before; in just the same way that he had seen the crown jewels. Priceless; but not for the likes of him.

Where on earth did it come from, and who had left it here for him to find? "Perrywinkle" where did that thought come from? No one had called him that since his mother had died. His father had named him "Peregrine" a manly name, but his mother had wanted a less warlike name so had referred to him as her little perrywinkle.

She had died when he was ten, and he was certain that none of his peers knew about her nickname for him. With a shrug he slipped the QT into the pocket of his jacket that was hanging in the wardrobe, and began his morning routine of washing and dressing. He would have to make very discreet enquires as to any missing QT devices, and then decide his best course of action.

'I have an idea,' stated Angel, ' I'm surprised that I didn't think of it before.'

She was lying naked on top of him idly twiddling his chest hairs.

'You probably just needed a good shag to get your brain working,' Steve interjected with a smile.

Angel slid her hand down between his hairy legs, and took gentle hold of his family jewels.

'Be nice or else.' She threatened playfully. Steve in turn placed his hands on her lower ribs.

'Do you think you can squeeze before I tickle, well do you punk?'

'You bastard, you terrify me, you know I can't stand being tickled,' she capitulated. He held her tight to him and kissed her lovingly.

'Yeah right, what is this idea then?'

Although it pains me to admit it, there is one man that we can trust with this information.

Sir Cameron McDonald, director of the B.T.O.

'I thought you didn't like him?'

'It's not that I don't like him as such, it's just that he is very dour and follows the party line regarding time travel interference. I dread the day he finds out about Dr. Snip, he'll have a stroke.

That's why I have kept you two from meeting so far.'

'I know how to keep my mouth shut,' he said.

'Just as well for you that I don't,' she giggled sliding down his body until her mouth was somewhere interesting. After a while they got up and after another breakfast, got ready to beard the lion in his den. Utilising her QT they jumped forward to the Twenty Sixth Century.

As a Time Agent albeit freelance; Angel could see the director at very short notice. They were soon standing in front of his desk, ready to present their case to him. He listened politely to their story and when they had finished, they asked him if he would tell the PM about Jeckell and his plans.

He looked up at them from beneath his heavy white eyebrows, and invited them to sit down. Angel was stunned; no one sat in the director's office it just wasn't done. He insisted; and they both sat down and tried to be patient, as they waited for him to answer.

'Either you are both insane, which I fervently hope is the case, or what I was put here to forestall has finally happened.' He said in his quiet powerful voice.

'Peregrine Jeckell is our Prime Minister; he has just been elected by his peers.

If what you tell me is true, then time has been meddled with, and the B.T.O. has failed to stop it.'

But Marcus Armstrong is the PM insisted Angel, it was a close run election but he won.

'The only reason you know this, is because you were down time of the wave of change that must have swept uptime from the moment of intervention,' explained the Director.

'My head hurts,' complained Steve.

'If you believe us then can you help us,' asked Angel.

'Unfortunately the first thing that our new PM did was to disband the B.T.O. I am currently unemployed and powerless to help you,' answered the Director sadly, ' I am only here to clear out my desk.'

'Fuck me,' swore Angel.

'Yes, fuck me, seems to cover it,' agreed the Director.

'The second thing he did was to authorise the expansion of the British Army, by recruiting an additional thousand Storm Troopers. I can only suggest that we take some time to ponder on this situation, and meet again tomorrow.'

To Steve's surprise Angel agreed to this without comment, and they both left the office.

They jumped back to Steve's house and he put the kettle on.

'Well as one door shuts, another slams in your face.' He commented.

'Lets ask Merlin,' she suggested.

'Why not? Merlin are you listening?'

YES STEVE

'Do you know that our new PM has tampered with the past, to ensure his appointment?'

NO, AS FAR AS I AM AWARE HE HAS ALWAYS BEEN THE PM.

'Well take your old friend's word on it, the PM was Marcus Armstrong before Jeckell meddled with time,' said Steve. THAT WILL BE DIFFICULT, EMPIRICAL PROOF DEMANDS THAT I BELIEVE JECKELL IS BRITAINS RIGHTFUL PM.

'Wow, Merlin your communication is deafening me,' complained Angel.

'Is there any other way you can talk to us?'

Steve suddenly jumped up from the table so quickly, that he fell backwards over his chair and landed on the floor. Angel's reaction was outwardly calmer, only because she came from the twenty sixth century and was used to holograms and the like.

An old man with a long white beard, had materialised sitting opposite Steve.

'Is this better?' he asked with a grin, ' hello old friend Steve, why are you lying on the floor?'

'Good God, where did you come from? are you Merlin?' spluttered Steve.

'Yes of course, is this form of communication more efficient?'

'How are you here?'

'I am simply a figment of your imagination, transmitted through your implant to your optic nerve,' explained the old wizard.

'Wow, can Angel see you as well?'

'Yes although details may differ, depending on how she visualises Merlin.'

'Why the fuck haven't you appeared to me like this before?'

The old man sipped his imaginary tea and with a smile said,

'You never asked me.'

'I didn't know you could, this is much better,' said Steve he stood up and dusted himself down, facing Merlin he bowed politely and said,

'Pleased to meet you at last old friend.'

'Pleased to meet you, old friend Steve, and of course the lovely Angel.'

Angel's version of Merlin; was coloured by her Twenty Sixth century mind. She saw a figure similar to the one Steve saw, but hers was made out of liquid metal, as her mind tried to amalgamate a wizard with an AI.

'To get back to your problem Steve, why do you think that Peregrine Jeckell shouldn't be Britain's PM?' asked Merlin.

'I will answer on Steve's behalf as he has very little interest in the political situation in our century,' said Angel.

'I know from personal memory that Marcus Armstrong won the election for PM. If you need to confirm this, please scan my implant for the required data.'

Merlin took this as an invitation, and closing his eyes scanned Angel's memories of the election.

'Amazing, this is the first time to my knowledge, that I have been caught up in a time change. It appears that you are correct Angel, and Jeckell has changed history to suit himself.'

'What can we do about it?' asked Steve, relieved that Merlin believed them at last.

'You must try and pinpoint the moment in time when the intervention took place and cancel it out,' said Merlin. Steve slipped back into his policeman's training

'Was there anything odd about the result, was he voted for by people who wouldn't normally have supported him?'

Merlin could answer this question as the election had happened after the time change.

'Nothing as obvious as that I'm afraid, however Jeckell didn't put a foot wrong during the last few weeks running up to the vote. All politicians make some mistakes but he didn't.'

'As if with the advantage of hindsight?' pressed Steve.

'Exactly,' conceded Merlin.

'I remember a story I once read, where someone travelled back in time and gave Churchill a copy of his Memoirs. Using the knowledge from his own book, Churchill avoided making the many mistakes that he would have made. When the allies had beaten Germany, they then attacked Russia at its weakest and conquered them. This avoided the cold war that followed the original allied victory, and saved thousands of lives in the process,' said Steve.

'Unfortunately that wouldn't have worked' said Angel, 'the moment Churchill deviated from those memoirs; the memoirs would change to record the new future. The original memoirs would never have been written, so couldn't have been taken into the past.'

'So someone, it could only have been Jeckell because he was the only one with a QT device, went back in time and imparted certain vital information to his earlier self. It was this information, that was the trigger to the time change,' clarified Angel.

'KIS' said Steve suddenly.

'What now, in front of Merlin?' spluttered Angel, her face turning pink.

'Keep It Simple,' clarified Steve with a grin at her discomfiture.

'We ask Jeckell about it, when he tells us we go back in time and interfere.'