D-Zero Meson Oscillation, 7/10
Part VII - Illuminata
Tom and Malcolm returned to the interview room, where Katrina was still waiting. She’d calmed down a bit and wasn’t crying anymore, but was clearly still sad. Malcolm sat down next to her again.
“Katrina, I’d like to apologise. Tom showed me the video from the station waiting room. It’s just that I thought that if you were upset and emotional the truth would be more likely to come out.”
Katrina looked up at him and managed a faint smile. “People are more honest when they’re emotional. I know what you mean. But there’s no apology necessary. You were right. I didn’t mourn my husband enough. It was the same with Nicci.”
Malcolm looked curiously at her. “Are you saying your daughter died too?”
“No, not my daughter. A different Nicci. She was named after one of my childhood best friends. She was killed in front of me in 1990. Ironically when I was about the same age as this body is now. I spent a month in a psychiatric hospital with post-traumatic stress and if I’m honest I discharged myself too soon. Before I finished grieving. It was just I felt I had so much to do. Same as at the Embassy. We were at war, the alliance with Britannia was too important. I’d spent my life working towards it.”
Malcolm said, “You know even if a part of me is still coming to terms with the idea that you really are from a parallel world -”
“Cognitive dissonance,” Katrina said, “Your brain is searching for explanations. Like maybe someone doctored the CCTV.”
Mal laughed a little. “Yeah. Exactly that. But I was going to say, if you have come from a parallel world then that’s also effectively a traumatic experience, isn’t it? In which case, you’re going to need help and support adjusting. I’d like to give you that support, help you cope.”
Katrina nodded sadly. “True. The fact that I can’t see my family. A part of me still believes that, not that this is a dream but that it’s only temporary. I’ll go to sleep one night soon and wake up back home again. The other part of me knows that’s not going to happen. That I’m not going back.”
“You can’t be sure about that, though, can you?” Tom ventured.
“Yes, Tom, I can. I instinctively know it. This isn’t like Quantum Leap where all I need to do is solve some trivial problem then leap back home again. Malcolm’s absolutely right. I do need to accept it. If they do give me a passport and ticket then perhaps I could see you when I’m back in England?”
Mal smiled. “Definitely. And I’m here for another twelve days. I’ll give you my number and I want you to promise to call me if you need to.”
“I will. And thank you.”
“Aside from anything else, I’m fascinated by this entire parallel world concept. I’d love to know all about the differences.”
Katrina smiled. “I’d be happy to tell you. If only so it’s all there on record. For posterity, if you see what I mean. Just in case something happens to me.”
“Did you say,” Tom asked, “that swimming helps?”
“Always.”
“Good. Because I have a present for you.”
#
He didn’t just present her with a day pass. She had a month pass, she could go whenever she wished. And at certain times of the day she could have an entire lane to herself. Tom said he’d called in a favour, some girl from the Consulate called Audrey, or something.
Katrina was delighted to discover she could beat nine minutes for the 800 free. She hadn’t been able to do that for fifteen years, since before Yuri was born. It would take a little time, she realised, to get used to being in her younger body again, but if she could be as good as she was in Barcelona then she would win. There would be trials in April, according to the Internet. The National Championships. Easily enough time.
At the end of her session she sat herself on the edge of the pool with her hands by her sides, idly swishing her dangling feet in the water, gazing into its depth and smiling contentedly to herself.
And for the first time since she was stolen away from home she felt she could survive here. That even in this purgatory, your dystopia, there would be moments of pure joyfulness and love. In the water she would be free, she would escape.
She realised she could be happy, in a different place.
And then her instinct made her look up and across the pool. Tom was there, just watching. He raised his hand and smiled.
And Katrina smiled back. Something warm had suddenly arisen in her.
#
Tom was waiting in the lobby. She looked even more gorgeous with her hair still slightly wet, he decided.
“Hi.” Katrina smiled coyly at him.
“Nice swim?”
“Perfect. Thank you. I’m very grateful for the pass.”
“You’re very welcome. I was thinking lunch?”
Katrina smiled again, then said, “What time is it?”
Tom motioned to check his watch, then suffered an adrenaline-rush alarm as he realised it wasn’t there.
“Is this the standard issue watch you’re looking for?” Katrina asked nonchalantly, dangling it idly in front of him, “The one with the microphone?”
Tom couldn’t find the right words.
Katrina helped him out. “Is it still this little button here to switch it off?” she pondered, stroking it with her finger.
“I’m sorry. Peter -”
“Insisted. I can well understand that. In my experience the intelligence services always ask you to do things you find uncomfortable. But you have to do it. They make that very clear. Then they ask you again. A little more uncomfortable. And again. Human beings are programmed to avoid guilt. So they shut off that part of their conscience. And those questionable things no longer cause them any pain. And that’s when they’ve got you.”
Tom nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Katrina’s response was not what he expected. She laughed. It made him laugh too. Partly out of relief and confusion than anything else.
“It’s ok, Tom. I forgive you. I’m not going to let one little bug ruin a beautiful friendship, eh?”
Katrina’s smile was exceptionally disarming. And it made him feel better. He’d felt awful about it. She was someone he never wanted to lie to.
“However, I am going to take this opportunity to extract something from you in compensation.”
“Erm, ok. What did you want?”
“Do you have a subscription to Netflix at your place?”
Tom laughed. “Yes. As a matter of fact I do.”
“Excellent. Then dinner and a movie it is. But I will do the cooking and choose the movie, accepted?”
“Done.” Tom was completely relieved. “What movie do you want to watch?”
“Skyfall. I want to see what your version’s like without me being Spectre’s answer to Lady Macbeth.”
“Now that I can imagine.”
“I got nominated for Best Supporting Actress for that one.”
“I believe you. I genuinely believe you. May I ask you another question?”
“Always.”
“You knew the other night too, didn’t you, about the watch?”
“Of course. But I’m surprised mister MI6 didn’t think I’d know what a standard issue watch looks like. Especially the one with the microphone. However -”
Tom looked quizzically at her. She had another mischievous look about her. She held the watch up to her mouth and said, “Hello, Peter. Thank you for the watch. Much appreciated. Now Tom and I are going to find somewhere nice for lunch and we’d like some privacy. So goodbye Peter and have a nice day.”
And with that, she daintily clicked the little button.
“You know it’s got a GPS locator on it too, right?”
“Sure. But if I turn that off he’s going to get worried. And we wouldn’t want him to get worried now, would we?”
Tom laughed. “Absolutely not. Anxious men from MI6 are best avoided, in my experience.”
“Mine too. Shall we?”
And so they went to lunch. And no one disturbed them in the slightest.
#
“Do you have a girlfriend, Tom?”
He smiled. “Not at the moment. And you’re flirting with me.”
Sly smile. “I was a KGB spy, remember. And you work for MI5.”
“And old habits die hard, huh?”
“Something like that.”
“Well,” he chuckled, “I don’t know whether to be flattered or alarmed.”
“I’ll leave you to decide that one.”
Tom refilled their glasses and tried to think of another question.
“So clearly you weren’t just a spy in this other world of yours?”
“No. And I never really wanted to be one either. It was just a means to an end. After the 1992 election I took a back seat from politics and concentrated on my sports for Barcelona. I also managed to get enough money for my company to start thinking about making films, so I could be an actress. Which, if I’m honest, apart from my sports is what I always wanted to be. I was in two films before my trial, and since I escaped a long prison sentence, that’s what I was able to do. Starting with Goldeneye.”
“More postmodernism?”
“Yep. Because everyone knew all about me we played on that for my character. K, she was known as till Skyfall, when the audience get to find out what her real name is. Moneypenny confronts me about it so we have this big, visceral fight and I kill her. Then I get the main villain to kill M, who is the only other person who knows, then I take her place. Then we did Spectre, of course, then completed the reboot of the series with Illuminata and Endgame so it’s back to just classic Bond vs. Spectre with me in charge, ‘cos Bond – at least apparently – kills Blofeld at the end of Illuminata. And I get a cool bionic hand and go mad with vengeance.”
“Lol. So what’s your character’s real name?”
“Teresa Katarina Blofeld. Ernst Stavro’s cousin. Everyone loved it. I can’t wait to see your versions although I seriously doubt they’re anywhere near as good as ours. And you don’t have Illuminata and Endgame.”
“Hmm. You really were quite successful then, as an actress?”
“Yep. I made about two films a year on average. So it’s just over fifty now.”
“I suppose you’re also going to tell me you did win a Best Actress Oscar at some point?”
“Would you believe me if I said I did?”
“Possibly,” Tom smiled.
“Ok. Well, I did, as it happens. The one that made me most happy was Ridley Scott’s Boudicca. I wrote the screenplay too and it’s maybe the film that means the most to me. Obviously it’s all about resisting occupation, so it resonated with the British people. Especially coming from me, after I’d been telling them all those years they’d been an occupied country since 1066. You know the Tories aren’t really British? Because their cultural identity isn’t British. Our cultural identity stretches back aeons, well into the ice age. They’re just the latest incarnation of the Normans, foreign racist barbarian fascists. If they really were British their policies would care about the people, wouldn’t they? Which they don’t. We British are their out-group. Same goes for that parasite foreign royal family.”
“You abolished them, I suppose?”
“The Lizzies did, yes, after 2003. And they finally brought Thatcher to justice and incarcerated her in Broadmoor high security mental institution. Catharsis completed.”
“Hmm. I’m sure a lot of people would be pleased to hear that. And you’re trying to turn me to socialism, aren’t you?”
“Of course. Is it working?”
Tom snorted. “Possibly. I’ll let you know. So how did you get to be Russian Ambassador?”
“Vladimir Putin asked me after the Lizzy landslide. Although it was Sergei Lavrov’s clever idea, really. The British people loved me so it was a good choice. Sasha was to be the SVR’s chief resident in the Embassy. And we could finally be a family and live in peace.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. I know you mean it. My tenure ended in 2008 when the next election happened and the Lizzies won two-thirds of the vote, shortly after Alice was born, and we moved back to Cambridge as a family.”
“So is your Putin anything like our version, from what you’ve seen?”
“He seems to be. Mind you strong personalities are the same whichever universe they’re in. Further proof of MMT. And you know he was the KGB’s Dresden resident in 1989, when I was recruited there?”
“Oh. So he knew, then?”
“Yes. And he never said a word to anyone. Of course a lot of my problems came back again shortly after Sasha and I were married when Vladimir became head of the FSB. You can imagine that got people a bit suspicious?”
“Obviously you denied he knew anything?”
“Yes. He didn’t betray me so I wasn’t going to betray him. It would’ve meant Sarah being discovered too. So at that time I stuck to my false recruitment story, Moscow, 1990. But people started asking questions, Sasha and I started our new life together in Yasenevo then the Apartment Bombings happened, Comrade Putin became President and I fully supported him. He turned the Russian economy around after the neoliberal Yeltsin disaster.”
“Same as in our world, then, basically?”
“It seems to be, yes. At least until after 9/11. We stopped it and exposed the people responsible to the watching world on the day it happened, and that was the real end of the American Empire. We took advantage of the four months of American impotence until Gore was sworn in to get the Dresden Treaty signed with Germany, which created the Eurasian Alliance. The Lizzies joined in 2003 and NATO was eventually replaced by NEA and Europe was harmonised, with Russia. There’s been a fair bit of reconciliation with America since, I should add. John should be signing the final treaty with NEA in his second term. That’s going to happen and it’s just a formality to be honest. And the utopia will be complete. No more war. Ever.”
“But you don’t think there’s any chance of that happening here, in our world?”
Katrina shook her head, looked seriously at him. “No. I’m sorry. I think it’s too late for that. Like I said, all this anti-Russian propaganda will lead to WW3. Maybe the best thing you could do, or anyone could do, is find a piece of land somewhere to cultivate, withdraw from the world, be as self-sufficient as you can, and live the rest of your life in peace.”
Tom looked down sullenly. And started thinking to himself that Katrina’s efforts to turn him wasn’t such a fruitless quest after all…
##
If enough of us choose humanity over capital, we can change our world. 💗 But I’ll leave moving to a private commune in the countryside as a last resort. (I’m running out of other resorts, if I’m being honest.)