Prologue
A century ago, Iapura led 53 survivors through a portal to escape a dying Earth. They had expected to emerge on Alpha Centauri but instead found themselves on an alternate Earth. An Earth where in 1884, Russian and English armies faced off across America’s Great Plains, unprepared for the technological prowess of the conquering Nayarit.
Within six months, the 53 refugees had seized control of the Mainline, and over the next 100 years expanded their empire across the multiverse, eventually including 54 alternate Earths within the Cross-Temporal Empire (C-TE).
Over the next 90 years, Iapura’s empire expanded steadily across a series of parallel Earths, absorbing and conquering until it included over 53 separate lines Finally, however, with its technology stagnant and its ruling council riven by dissent, the Cross-Temporal Empire descended into five years of civil-war. A civil war that pitched the C-T E’s ruling families against each other in a bitter, internecine feud that almost destroyed it.
Five years later, the Empire struggles to rebuild itself under a new dynasty, the Clemhorns. But now the Empire is under attack from an external enemy – they just know yet.
Chapter 1
Mainline
(Tuesday: New York, Commonwealth of America, Mainline)
As the limousine turned into the street, Markus pulled back further into the shadow of the massive oak. A raccoon, disturbed in its feeding, glared at him in warning, while behind it, Central Park drowsed on in the evening’s summer air. Markus risked an anxious glance round the trunk to confirm it was the same vehicle he’d seen leaving the redbrick mansion earlier. There was no mistaking the Rolls, and his breathing quickened, knowing it was almost over.
A tram screeched past, the catenary lines sparking as it turned east toward Lexington Avenue. He watched the Rolls pull into the driveway of the mansion across the street and bent to wake the child curled up at his feet. The sooner he delivered his message, the sooner he’d be able to leave this damn country.
“Come on, Liebchen,” he whispered.
His daughter roused sleepily. “Is it time to go home, Daddy?”
“Not quite. We just need to talk to the lady I was telling you about.”
“All right.”
She slipped a trusting hand into his, and he hoisted her up into his arms.
As the two crossed the street, he flicked a nervous glance at the two men loitering on the corner and wondered what they were doing there.
The Rolls’ quiet purr had stopped as Markus turned into the mansion’s open gateway. He glanced behind him. The two men were walking purposefully toward them, but the rest of the street was still clear.
A little faster now, but trying not to worry his daughter, he started up the neatly raked driveway, pea-gravel sliding under his boots.
“Is that the lady?” his daughter asked, craning her head to look over her shoulder at the tall, statuesque woman with long, raven black hair easing her way out of the Rolls in an elegant, ivory ball gown.
“Yes, Liebchen,” he said, placing Jessie back on the ground, wondering as he did so when she had got so heavy.
The scent of gardenias filled the air as he straightened his back and took a deep breath. For the first time, he worried that she, like all the others, might refuse to listen to him. It was too late to worry now, though. “Ma’am,” he called. “Miss Peric!”
The lady in question looked round, startled to see him, as the other passenger door slammed open and a shorter woman with a bob of dirty-blond hair, dressed in a scarlet tunic and dark-blue trousers, almost fell out of the vehicle.
“Stop right there!” the bodyguard commanded; her revolver aimed in his direction.
Markus started to lift his hands but found that his right was still holding his daughter’s. Carefully, he lifted his free hand – this hadn’t been in the script.
Running footsteps sounded from the gravel behind him. He was turning when something slammed against his spine, driving the air from his lungs, and he toppled forward, face-first into the gravel.
Oh Liebchen, I’m so sorry, was all he had time to think before darkness took him.
***
Margaret Peric forced her feet back into her stilettos as the Rolls turned onto Fifth Avenue. They were almost home. Through the vehicle’s open window, she could just make out the darker shadows of Central Park’s elm trees in the distance.
She noticed Jade smiling at her from the other side of the vehicle and grimaced. “Be thankful you get to wear sensible shoes,” she told her bodyguard.
Jade sniffed.
A moment later, the Rolls turned through the mansion’s gates, crunching its way up the pea-gravel drive that led to the six-story mansion she presently called home. Jade sneezed as the cloying scent of gardenias filled the vehicle’s interior, and the Rolls eased to a halt at the foot of the mansion’s stairs.
Ignoring her bodyguard’s muffled protest, Margaret opened the car door and swung her legs out – Jade was sometimes over-protective.
“Ma’am,” someone called, startling her. “Miss Peric!”
Margaret turned and frowned at the sight of the stranger standing in the middle of the drive, clutching the hand of a small girl.
Behind her, she heard Jade’s door slam open. “Stop right there!” Jade ordered.
“Softly,” Margaret warned her, as the stranger lifted his free hand. The child looked as though she was on the verge of bursting into tears.
And then her attention snapped to the two men running up the drive toward them, gravel crunching under their feet.
“Jade –” she said, as she caught sight of the knife one of them was holding, but they had already reached the stranger and she watched horrified as the one with the knife thrust it into the stranger’s back. As he plunged face forward to the ground, the small girl let out a piercing shriek.
Margaret scrabbled in her shoulder-bag for her revolver as one of the men bent over the body. Damn, where was it, she thought, as the second man grabbed the other’s arm and pulled him away, back down the drive. A moment later, both were running for the street.
Margaret was still scrabbling fruitlessly in her bag when she heard a shot and looked across the top of the Rolls to see that Jade had fired her pistol in the air.
“Shit,” Jade said, taking off after the two men who had already disappeared around the corner.
Shit indeed, Margaret thought, dumping the contents of her bag onto the back seat to find the revolver. She grabbed it, pulled up her gown and started after Jade.
She’d only taken three steps when the stiletto heel of her left shoe slid on the gravel and she almost twisted her ankle. With a grimace, she slid her shoes off.
Upon reaching the girl, she crouched next to her, swearing as she saw the handle of the knife protruding from the stranger’s back. “Jade,” she called out after her bodyguard. “We’re going to need a doctor.”
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” she asked the child, resting her ear on the stranger’s back. She was almost sure he was still breathing, although his coat made it difficult to be confident.
“Jessie,” the girl said. “What’s wrong with Daddy?”
“Your father’s been stabbed and needs a doctor,” Margaret said, lifting his head carefully to get a hand under his ear to clear his mouth. She wondered if that had been the right thing to tell a child. How was she to know though; it wasn’t as if she’d had much experience with them. Besides, she’d never been one to sugarcoat the truth.
Jade appeared beside her. “What’s wrong?”
Margaret jerked her head toward the protruding handle, and Jade let out a muffled oath.
“James,” Jade called to the house. “Phone for a doctor, then get a couple of people down here. We need to get him inside. And get something to use as a stretcher!”
Margaret looked up to see the butler, who had been heading toward them at the run, turn around and head back for the house. “I’m fairly sure he’s still breathing,” she said.
“Good,” Jade said, nervously looking round. “Perhaps you should take the girl inside?”
Margaret frowned but nodded. Although Jade was probably just trying to get her principal out of danger, it made sense to get the girl indoors. Standing up, she brushed the gravel off the bottom of her gown, frowning when she saw the damage. She’d only worn it once!
“Come on, Jessie,” Margaret said, offering the child her hand. “Let’s go inside and wait for Daddy.”
Jessie looked at her father, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Will Daddy be all right?”
“I’m sure he will,” Margaret said, mentally crossing her fingers. “Do you know why Daddy was here?”
“He said we were coming to meet you,” Jessie sobbed.
Margaret and Jade shared a puzzled look.
“Perhaps you can tell me what he said while we go inside and wait for him,” Margaret said.
Trustingly, Jessie took her hand. It felt so small resting in hers, Margaret thought. Looking up, she could already see the first of the cavalry starting down the steps toward them. She would have been more comfortable if they were her own staff, but Serge had insisted on her staying at his house while she was in New York, and they seemed efficient enough. The house was certainly cheaper than a hotel or renting her own property. Particularly as she didn’t know how long she’d be staying, or whether she’d even keep the job her cousin had foisted on her.
“Come on,” Margaret said, drawing the child away from her father. Slowly they made their way back up the driveway, with Jessie reluctantly looking back over her shoulder at her father’s limp body as they did so.
“Do you know why your daddy wanted to see me?” Margaret asked, trying to ignore the gravel pinching her bare feet.
Jessie shook her head.
“Can I call your mother?”
Jessie shook her head again. “Mummy’s dead.”
“Oh.” That was a conversation killer, if ever there was one.
“She died when I was six,” Jessie added.
“And how old are you now?” Margaret asked.
“Eight,” Jessie announced proudly.
Two of the footmen rushed by; one carrying a couple of rolled up blankets. It was probably a good thing she’d left the fundraiser early. If she’d waited until the event was due to finish most of the staff would have been asleep. The children’s hospital was a good cause, but she hated having to make small talk and she’d cried off as soon as she decently could.
At the top of the staircase, she paused for a moment to look back to where Jade and the two footmen were sliding the blanket under Jessie’s father. She looked down and noticed Jessie was also staring worriedly at them.
Mrs. Mack, the tiny housekeeper, was hovering uncertainly in the doorway. Despite her diminutive size, the housekeeper ruled the domestic staff with a will of pure iron. According to Serge, his father had brought her with him from the Dontfrey Line when he’d returned to the Mainline fifteen years ago. Which sort of made her family, Margaret thought, as she’d lived on Dontfrey herself until a year ago.
“Has someone called the doctor?” Margaret asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” the housekeeper said, looking up at her. “James sent the boy next door for Mr. Castles. And who’s this?” she asked, barely needing to bend her head to place her face at the same level as the child’s.
“This is Jessie, Mrs. Mack. They’re going to be bringing her father up in a moment, but I need to get out of this dress and find some shoes.”
“Certainly, ma’am. Will you come with me, Jessie? You can help me get some hot water ready for your father.”
Jessie nodded solemnly, and confident that she was in safe hands, Margaret started up the stairs to the bedroom. She’d got about halfway up when she remembered what she’d been thinking about in the car on the way back from the fundraiser. “Mrs. Mack,” she called, leaning over the balustrade. “Has there been any word from my sister?”
“No, ma’am, nothing from Miss Louise.”
Margaret frowned. It would be so much easier if her mother could have done the job herself rather than delegating her eldest daughter with the task of tracking down her youngest child. She understood why she couldn’t, with Father’s health being so delicate after his heart attack. But just what did Louise think she was doing walking out on her fiancé to traipse all the way to New York? “All right, let me know if you hear anything.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Ma’am!” It was the butler.
“Yes, James?”
“The police are here.”
She rolled her eyes – of course the police were here. “Show them into the front room. I’ll see them in a moment. And ask Jade if she can make herself available.”
It didn’t take her long to change into silk pajamas and dressing-gown, and to grab some slippers.
Jade was waiting outside the room for her.
“How is he?” Margaret asked, dropping her voice.
“Alive. Mr. Castles was just starting his examination.”
“Then let’s see what we can do for the gentlemen in blue.”
The two uniformed representatives of New York’s finest were standing uncomfortably in the center of the room.
“Gentlemen, what can I do for you?” Margaret asked politely.
“We’ve had a report of someone firing a gun,” the senior officer said.
The other, who looked barely old enough to shave, jerked his admiring gaze away from Jade.
There was a knock, and James stuck his head around the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt, ma’am, but Imperial Security are here.”
“Show them in,” she said with a sigh. Perhaps she could try to deal with them in bulk.
“Miss Peric,” the Imp-Sec Officer said politely when she was shown into the room. “Special Agent Kostello, Imperial Security.” She held her identity card up with the all-seeing eye etched into the mother-of-pearl background in black.
Margaret caught Jade covetously eyeing the Special Agent’s black and silver uniform and turned her attention back to the Special Agent.
“I was just passing,” Kostello said, “and I wondered if I could provide any assistance.”
Just passing – as if! Imp-Sec had parked themselves outside the house for the first couple of weeks after she took up residence until she’d put her foot down. After a heated conversation with her cousin, they’d compromised, and Imp-Sec had established a control post in an apartment around the corner at 5 E Seventy-Eighth Street. It was 120 yards away, plus stairs, but at least she could now pretend to be a big girl.
“Thank you, Special Agent Kostello,” Margaret said. “My bodyguard was forced to discharge her pistol in the air when we witnessed an attempted robbery.”
The three looked at Jade, who gave a short, decisive nod.
“The victim is not known to me,” Margaret continued, “nor to anyone else in this house. At this stage, he is being examined by the doctor. If I subsequently decide that the matter is one that should be drawn to the attention of either the local police, or Imp-Sec, I will ensure this occurs.”
Special Agent Kostello swallowed whatever she was going to say and pasted a fake smile on her face. “Of course, ma’am. Thank you. Come, gentlemen.”
The younger police officer opened his mouth to say something, but the senior shook his head at him warningly.
Margaret rang the bell, and James appeared to escort them out of the room.
“So, let’s see what this was all about,” Margaret said to Jade, when they’d been shown out of the house.
The lobby was deserted, but they followed the sound of talking into the kitchen, where they found the stranger lying facedown on the large wooden kitchen table. The doctor was carefully cutting the fabric of the stranger’s coat back from the knife wound. A strong smell of antiseptic wafted through the air toward Margaret.
For a moment, she froze, the smell overpowering her. Then the patient lifted his head and Margaret could move again.
“Hold still,” the doctor told him curtly.
She’d only seen her neighbor once, in the distance, but there was no mistaking him. The doctor’s thick, ginger, bushy sideburns stuck straight out from his face like a Cheshire cat’s. The round, wire-rimmed glasses he wore emphasized the similarity.
“You’re not taking him to the hospital?” Margaret asked, staying outside the door. With four staff, the doctor, and now Jade, all standing around the table, the kitchen looked crowded enough. And there was the fact that the stink of antiseptic brought back too many unpleasant memories.
“Not unless we need to.” The doctor did not bother to look up. “The knife is too close to the spine. Too much risk the trip might aggravate the wound.”
The cloth had been cut through now, and the surgeon peeled back the coat and shirt to expose the knife sticking up from his back. There was a lot less blood than Margaret had expected.
The doctor opened a small tube of ointment, and smeared some onto the skin around the protruding handle before picking up a small portable scanner. The scanner was about the size of a packet of cigarettes and had a wand attached. As he deftly ran the head of the wand over the skin around the wound, he studied the image on the screen.
“Well?” Margaret asked impatiently.
Mr. Castles ignored her, and she felt a surge of irritation at his manner. He might be good at what he did, and the fact that he owned a house facing onto Central Park showed he probably was, but as the daughter of a Continental Leader she was not used to being ignored.
After replacing the scanner, Castles checked his watch, then carefully placed one hand on the handle of the knife, and the other on the skin around the wound. “Hold your breath,” he told the patient before, in one smooth movement, he pulled the knife free.
There was a yelp, and as the knife’s blade emerged, Margaret could see it was a single-edged blade about eight inches long. The blade itself was black metal, about three inches wide, with a strip of brass inlaid along its back, and a curved portion cut into the back of the blade near the tip.
Holding the knife up with one hand, the doctor pressed on the wound with a gauze pad as he inspected the blade with the other. “No nicks,” he said finally, after he’d finished checking it.
“Which means?” Margaret raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing left in the wound.”
“May I?” Jade stepped forward to take the blade before he could place it on the table next to the scanner.
Mr. Castles looked surprised, but handed her the knife.
Jade inspected it for a moment, then nodded, pleased.
“What?” Margaret asked.
“It’s a Blacks and Sons’ Bowie.”
Margaret frowned. Sometimes Jade had a bad habit of simply assuming people could read her mind. “Which means?”
“It has a serial number?”
“And that means?”
Jade sighed. “It means we can trace the person who bought it.”
“Ah.”
The doctor ignored the conversation as he removed a short piece of black cable from his bag. He screwed an eyepiece onto one end, smeared the cable with more ointment, then clicked the eyepiece over his glasses and carefully inserted the other end of the cable into the wound.
“Well?” Margaret asked after five minutes of watching the good doctor stare into the eyepiece.
Without looking up, the doctor gestured for silence.
Margaret folded her arms, vexed at being ignored. She caught sight of Jade suppressing a grin at her reaction and couldn’t help smiling at herself.
Finally, the doctor removed the cable, stood up and stretched his back carefully. “You, sir, are a very lucky man. The knife missed all significant organs, and so long as it hasn’t damaged the spine, which it doesn’t appear to have, you should be up on your feet within two days. You’ll need to remain here for a couple of days. I presume that will be all right?” he said, apparently realizing he might have gone just a little too far.
“Oh absolutely,” Margaret said dryly. “The house certainly has enough rooms.”
“Good, my nurse will bring the bill when she comes to change the dressing tomorrow morning.”
“Of course,” Margaret said.
“Give me fifteen minutes to glue everything back together and clean up here and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Thank you,” Margaret said, feeling she’d been dismissed, and in her own house too! “I’ll see about getting a room made up for Mr. . . .” she paused, suddenly aware she didn’t know the stranger’s name.
“Ackov,” the stranger said, turning his head to give her a wan look. “Markus Ackov. I apologize for any difficulty I may have inadvertently caused you, Miss Peric.”
“No difficulty at all, Mr. Ackov, I’ll see about your room. Your daughter can wait for you there. Is there anyone we should tell where you are?”
“No, no one.” His Serbian accent definitely betrayed his background, even if the name hadn’t. “I have a room booked in the Casuarina Hotel. The key is in my coat pocket.”
“Jade, perhaps you can send someone round to pick up their belongings?” Margaret suggested. “I need to find Mrs. Mack.”
“She was going to take Jessie to the parlor,” Jade said.
As Jade had suggested, Margaret found Mrs. Mack in the parlor. Jessie had been watching the door and stood up as Margaret came in. “Is Daddy all right?”
“Yes, sweetheart. You can see him in a couple of minutes. Mrs. Mack, it appears Jessie’s father will be staying with us for a couple of days. Can you prepare one of the guest bedrooms? Perhaps Jessie would like to help you get it ready.”
“Of course, come on Jessie.”
With a sigh, Margaret watched them leave, wondering how long it would be before life would return to normal. She had enough problems at the Department without having to worry about two unexpected guests. The latest figures on the impact of the outbreak of red rust in the wheat crop in the American Midwest were getting steadily worse. If they couldn’t do something about it, they could be facing famine. And just where was Louise?
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