The Rasputin Effect

The shelter walls shook and dust rained down upon them. Another bomb strike - the city was taking a pounding tonight. General Owens sat at the head of the conference table, listening to the scientist explain the mission.

“So, you’re saying that this war, global warming, the mass extinctions… all that can be prevented if we just change this one key event in history?”

“We believe so, Sir. Our computers have analyzed all the data, and everything points to this as being the ignition that sparks the collapse of civilization.”

The General rubbed a finger across his greying moustache. “It’s almost too incredible to believe. But we’ve invested so much money into the project, I hope you’re right.”

The Scientist smiled nervously. “Well, knowing what has to be done and actually doing it are two very different kettles of fish. We’ve built the time-jump device and it works for a period of six hours at a time. But we keep running into problems.”

“Such as?”

“Well… for one thing, we’ve only been able to jump into the body of a single conduit. Every other subject has suffered massive hemorrhaging or is driven insane within a few moments of contact.”

“How frustrating. So only one agent can be sent back at a time?”

“Yes Sir. And it isn’t going well, I’m afraid. Every time we send someone back they get overwhelmed by the pleasures of the past.”

“Like what?”

The lights flickered as yet another muffled boom sounded overhead.

“Well, food, for one. They’ve been used to a diet of nutrient bars their whole lives. They’ve never come across cakes and roasted meats before. They can’t resist gorging themselves, knowing that they only get six hours before they return.”

“That’s ridiculous! Don’t they understand the whole future of mankind depends upon this mission?”

“Of course they do. But… well, if we succeed, if we actually change the past, then none of this will exist, will it? They know if they complete the mission they’ll never have been born.”

“Are you telling me all our agents are too short-sighted and selfish to want to end this war and our suffering?” The General was turning an angry shade of red that didn’t bode well.

“I think they want to succeed, Sir. They just.. want to experience living a bit first.”

“Well, have you tried feeding them before they make the jump? If they’re stuffed before they go, surely they can’t be tempted by food.”

“We thought of that, Sir. We started giving triple rations to them before the jump, and we did see a reduction in food consumption during their leaps. But…” He hesitated, not wanting to make the General angrier.

“But what, damnit? This is a £60 billion project, if it’s not working I want to know why!”

“Well, there’s the alcohol of course… they’ve never had access to it before. They’re drinking themselves into stupors. And then they discovered… um…” He was blushing hard, shuffling his papers in front of him.

“Discovered what?” The General demanded.

“Women, sir. It seems the host body has an inordinate appetite for, um, you know - IT.”

“Sex? They’re all going crazy over a bit of historical skirt? What kind of half-arsed department are you running?”

“Well Sir, since the women declared war on us there hasn’t been any, um, skirt – available. It seems when faced with the opportunity of getting some, our agents lose sight of their greater purpose.”

“But this is just one host… he’s only human for god’s sake, how much rumpy-pumpy can a single man get up to in just six hours?”

“You’d be surprised, Sir. As I said, our host is somewhat exceptional.”

“Well, did any of them even succeed at getting close to the Tsar? They’re supposed to have infiltrated his inner circle, it’s all for nothing if they can’t get the Russian Royals to survive the Revolution…”

Finally, something good to report.

“Yes, Sir. They’ve actually had quite a lot of success at that. As you know, the young son of the Tsar, Alexei, suffers from hemophilia. Now, our men can’t take any medicine back with them, the only physical item that travels back is the time-jump locket.”

“Locket? Can I see it?” The General asked. He turned the small device over in his hands, the delicate silver heart glinting in the fluorescent light. “This is it? This tiny thing is all we have to show for £60 billion dollars?”

“Well, it’s a lot more complicated than it seems, obviously. Lots of nanotechnology and interdimensional parts you can’t see.”

“Ok, so they can’t take meds back with them. So what did they do?”

“Well, they have basic medical training, and we ordered them to pose as a healer in hopes they could win over the Tsarina.”

“Excellent plan. If the boy survives it might be enough, even if all the rest of the family still die.”

“That was what we thought, Sir. Our agents concentrated on healing the child, got him through several bad injuries. We started reusing the same agents, sending them back multiple times in hopes they would be more focused on the mission if they knew they were going back.”

“Then what happened?” The General asked.

“Well, just as everything seemed to be going well and our guy was settled into palace life, he starts making enemies. Powerful enemies. It seems he has a habit of bedding all the ladies of the Russian aristocracy.”

“That’s crazy. I saw a picture of him in the file – what on earth do all these women see in him? His eyes look absolutely depraved!”

“I’m not sure, Sir. Maybe it’s the combination of two minds sharing the same body. He has a powerful aura about him, it draws people to him, whether with love or hatred.”

“Okay, well I’ve heard enough. Let me meet some of these agents, I want to hear an explanation from them.”

The Scientist nodded, pressing an intercom on the desk. More dust fell down from the ceiling, the bombs were getting closer.

Three men walked into the war chamber. They stood in a line, eyes on the floor, shuffling their feet guiltily.

“You three have all time-jumped for the mission?” General Owens asked, walking back and forth in front of them.

They nodded.

“Well, why haven’t you succeeded yet? What’s going wrong that prevents you from saving the royal family?”

“Sir, it’s not so simple,” the first man said. His stomach was bandaged and he had a black eye. “When we go back we have to deal with the fallout from previous missions. Last time I time-jumped I was stabbed by a woman I’d never seen before! Turned out one of the earlier agents had been in an indelicate situation with her. I didn’t see it coming, and then poof! I was back here, lying on the gurney, bleeding from my guts.”

“I see. So, you can only jump into the conduit at a later point on the timeline each time?”

The Scientist nodded. “Yes, that’s part of the problem. We seem to be running out of time. The last few men we sent have returned within just twenty minutes, three of them suffering from cyanide poisoning, two with bullet wounds to the back and abdomen. I’m scared to send another agent in case it kills him!”

“Well, we can’t just give up on the mission. I mean, if we don’t succeed we’ll all die anyway. No, we have to keep on with it. Send me back this time, let me see if I can figure this out once and for all.”

“Are you sure, Sir? Like I said, the last 5 men have all returned with significant injuries. It’s very dangerous…”

“I gave you an order, man! Give me the damn locket and send me back already. If you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself!”

The Scientist lead the way down to the morgue.

“Why are we doing it in here? Bit morbid, isn’t it?” The General asked, glancing around at the body bags in the cold room.

“We found that cold makes the connection stronger, Sir. I know it’s not exactly pleasant, but here in the bunker, we don’t have the same facilities as in the lab. We have to make do.”

“Very well.” General Owens laid down on the marble slab, folding his hands across his chest. The Scientist fastened the necklace around his neck, fiddling with some computer terminals as he set the data.

“We’re sending you back to December 30th, 1916. It will be nighttime when you arrive, and you’ll be in grave danger. I suggest you run away from the situation as fast as possible, so we can take time to plan our next move. Good luck Sir!”

***

The General opened his eyes, his breath pluming in front of him. It was bloody freezing! He was lying in a courtyard of a grand palace. It was dark, but the snow on the ground reflected enough light for him to make out the scene. He staggered away from the building, realizing he might have underestimated how hard this mission really was. His side throbbed and he could feel his blood flowing in steady bursts from the wound there. His stomach was burning, like a nest of wasps were angrily stinging his insides. It was agony to move, but he could hear voices coming from behind. He kept going, pushing forwards, stumbling towards the gates and the city beyond.

“How is he still alive?” An incredulous voice asked.

“It’s not possible, he ate all the poisoned cakes! He drank a whole bottle of poisoned wine!”

“But there he is, still moving. He must be the devil himself! I thought he was finished when you shot him that second time.”

“We’d better go get him, maybe he’s like a vampire and we have to cut his head off before he finally stays dead.”

They laughed, but their tone was slightly hysterical. The General could hear them getting closer, their footsteps crunching in the snow.

He turned towards them, snarling, his face a mask of rage.

“Stay back, or I’ll gut you both!” He yelled, surprised to find his words coming out in Russian, although he didn’t know the language.

They hesitated, both afraid to make the first move. This man should be dead, the trail of blood was enough to have felled a bear! They didn’t doubt that he would tear them to shreds if he got the chance.

The General stumbled on, heading for a bridge, and the bright lights beyond it. Snow pelted his face, stinging his eyes and forehead. He felt weak, dizzy from blood loss. He kept going, leaning forward into the wind, pulling his great overcoat around him. The men followed a few paces behind, unsure what to do next.

He was halfway across the bridge when they attacked. They grabbed him, spinning him around. One of them punched him in the face, sending brilliant stars sparking across his vision. He reeled from the blow, trying to grasp ahold of the guardrail for support. He felt them grabbing his legs, lifting him suddenly and powerfully upwards, thrusting him over the slim metal barrier. For a moment he teetered on the edge, trying to grasp hold of them, kicking out furiously at his attackers. Then he fell, the two faces growing smaller as he flailed through the darkness towards the river below.

The icy water embraced him, dragging him down while his breath caught in his chest. The frigid water burned! Every part of his body jangled, the nerves screaming in protest as he was pulled under by the strong current.

***

He came to with a start, sitting bolt upright on the morgue slab. The Scientist looked at him hopefully.

“No good, I’m afraid,” The General said through chattering teeth. “I think we’re going to need a new plan."