HMS Vanguardia, English Channel, July 2059
As promised, the Guardians made their return to Earth precisely one year to the day after their initial appearance, only this time, it was just a lone alien descending, introducing himself in a bizarre twist as George.
George presented as an ordinary middle-aged man, entirely lacking any features that might point at his extraterrestrial origins. Even the peculiarities noticed by the Cabinet members during their initial encounter were absent, as if he had practiced his transformation and smoothed out any imperfections.
This was Victor’s initial encounter with a Guardian. Despite having been informed about their preferred accent, he was taken aback by the nostalgic echoes reminiscent of a 1950s BBC news broadcast, and he found himself wondering why they adopted such a distinctive pronunciation, though he hesitated to ask.
Perhaps, he mused, they simply favoured that particular style! After all, they had to choose some accent, and it would have been just as off if they had chosen Geordie or Cockney. Or German. But then, he smiled, if they had chosen German or Russian, or Arabic, that was what Lyra was for.
What identified George as one of the Cosmic Overseers was his sudden materialisation within the Hub. A burst of light and an echoing bang, and there he suddenly was, standing there with a wide grin and a sizable holdall. While he offered no explanation regarding how he’d pinpointed this particular location, it was immediately evident that he was privy to all of Victor’s activities over the past year, so with an unnerving knowledge of all those present, formal introductions were unnecessary.
Victor had been uncertain about what to anticipate, but this eclipsed any expectations. His earlier worries about having enough onboard space for the time travel equipment proved irrelevant. The actual device was no larger than a smartphone, composed of a material that defied easy classification, a hybrid of glass and metal – yet distinctly other. Its surface appeared to pulse with an inner, shimmering vitality, unlike anything Victor had ever seen before.
George provided ten of these things, referring to them as Quantum Keys. Each one needed precise calibration to its designated agent, ensuring they couldn’t be operated by anyone else. He retrieved a handheld instrument from his holdall, which he referred to as the Actuator. Resembling a right-angled torch, it was made of the same mysterious material as the Keys. The device had two buttons, one black and the other red. That was all.
Pressing the red button, George said the words “Victor Kingsley” and aimed the instrument at Victor. Three powerful flashes of white light emanated from it, followed by an audible beep.
Next, he pointed the instrument at one of the Quantum Keys and pressed the black button. Beeps echoed from both devices and George told Victor that this particular Key was now his to use. This straightforward procedure was then replicated for Lyra, Cole, Ava and Henry.
The Quantum Keys activated upon touch, responding to their designated user. To initialise a jump, the agent spoke into the Key, furnishing precise information in the format of day, month, year, and time. These spoken words then materialised on the device, as if conjured by magic, as no screen was visible.
If this data were accurate, the agent would then provide the Key with a destination – which would appear again on the device. After verifying the information, the journey could be commenced with a single press of the green button located on the side of the Key. Returning to Vanguardia was equally straightforward: the agent would simply double-press the green button and utter the command, “Hub.”
Each Key came loaded with millions of pre-programmed coordinates, enabling the user to articulate their desired destination. To avoid arriving in a different version of the intended location, it was advised that the operative furnish as many details as possible. They should specify the city/town/village, the state/county, and, of course, the country.
Victor’s curiosity piqued, “Can I travel to a specific street or a building?”
George explained, “The Key cannot pinpoint an exact location down to one of your metres, but it will position you in the correct town or city, at the appointed time on the designated date.”
Concern crept into Victor’s voice. “Is it safe? I don’t want to find myself appearing in the middle of a wall or in Lake Windermere, for example.”
Reassuringly, George responded, “You have nothing to worry about, Victor. The technology is highly advanced and is designed to transport you to both secure and inconspicuous locations, keeping you safe and unseen. The reason it will not take you to a specific street is that the probability of someone seeing you is both high and unwelcome.”
Victor contemplated the remarkable abilities of the device. Beyond its function of transporting people through time, it seemed to possess its own form of consciousness, endeavouring to guide travellers to locations away from curious eyes, thereby minimising its impact on the time and place of arrival. Additionally, it took precautions to avoid scenarios where sudden appearances might startle people from that timeline, thus preventing potential mishaps and embarrassing misunderstandings.
Victor couldn’t help but marvel at the incomprehensible level of the tech, and was relieved that the Guardians had turned out to be amiable. He couldn’t shake the realisation that if an alien race with harmful intentions had arrived, it would have been a different scenario altogether. The potential for conquering Earth in a matter of days would have become a stark and alarming reality.
Accompanying the Quantum Keys, George supplied twenty Autojectors, resembling EpiPens in appearance, and explained that using one on a person would lead to immediate infertility. The method he described served as the sanctioned means of erasing a person from the timeline – ensuring their non-existence without resorting to the brutality of assassination, complete with all of its awkward evidence.
In that moment, the weight of the mission to save the world using time travel became real. Discussing the prospect of erasing someone from the timeline, ensuring they were never born, sent ripples of unease throughout the room. It was a haunting reminder of the immense power they now wielded. There was no margin for error; the use of an Autojector was irreversible.
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