“There were no North Korean missiles,” replied Yoyo. “The whole sequence of events changed from the moment Johnny was assassinated. Sasha was a very different president from the one Johnny would have become. She didn’t knowingly antagonise the North Koreans in any way.”
“So I guess no American base in the Korean Peninsula then.” I stated.
“That’s right,” smiled Mike. “We really are creating new realities, new universes, by our actions – and we should always be mindful of that.
***
Twenty–Five
It had been strange seeing ourselves in forty years’ time. It had also made me think very carefully about what we could and should do with our ‘gift’ in future.
Whilst our elder doubles were with us, Niki had noticed a small scar on Yoyo’s right arm, and asked her about it (naturally curious about the condition of her own body in the future). Yoyo replied that it was from a cycling accident around ten years ago (thirty or so years in our future), which prompted Niki to thank her for the information. After a short pause, she added, “Can you give me the exact date? I’d like to make sure I don’t ride a bike that day.”
So it got me thinking: apart from averting acts of terrorism, world wars, global disasters and the like, could we also help on a more person level? Could we use our time–travelling ability to change events which had lead to some personal tragedy and thereby make a difference to peoples’ lives on this level? Or are some things just meant to be? Perhaps a lesson has to be learned, and to remove the consequences of someone’s actions or his or her way of thinking would contravene the Laws of the Universe, or something like that.
To my mind, changing physical events and changing states of mind are two different things. For example, a man could lose a leg in an accident, and we could go back in time and prevent that accident occurring. But if the man does not change whatever habits or attitudes of mind had caused him to have the accident, then we cannot guarantee that a similar thing will not happen again. I relayed my thoughts on this topic to Niki that evening.
“I know what you mean about changing habits, Joe, but we don’t need time–travel for that. Just stop feeding me chocolate and ice–cream, and I’ll lose weight.”
“Haha! Yes, obesity is a big problem these days.”
“You’re calling me obese!”
“Well, let’s have a look at you... oh, what have we got here? Spare tyre?”
“That’s not funny .”
“Of course you’re not obese – you’re not even fat! You’re Chinese, you don’t do fat. It’s all those vegetables you eat, and all the burgers and chips you don’t. And it’s your metabolism. You’ve got a great shape.”
“Thanks baby,” she said planting a kiss on my lips.
“Clearly, I should compliment you more often!”
We talked about the different ways we could make people’s lives better. It was a little like the story of the Genie and the Lamp. If you could have three wishes to make the World a better place, what would they be? We tried brainstorming this topic for ten minutes.
“Eliminate World Hunger!” started Niki.
“Chelsea to win the Champions League – again!” I said.
“How does that benefit anyone?” asked Niki incredulously.
“It makes Chelsea supporters feel good – and there’s a lot of us around the World.”
“Joe!”
We both went very quiet. This wasn’t as easy as I thought. Then Niki said,
“Okay, if we want to make a lot of people feel good, let’s bring back Princess Diana.”
“Wow!” I said slowly. “Could we really do that?”
“Why not? You brought Mama back to life, didn’t you?”
“Yes, that’s true… after killing her off… and I suppose we’d make Mr Al–Fayed a very happy man too – assuming we can bring back his son Dodi at the same time.”
“Which he won’t remember, of course. In fact, no–one will remember that either of them died – it didn’t happen in their universe.”
“That’s a bugger. I can forget about the knighthood then?”
“Sorry Joe.”
After putting forward other ideas, neither of us could think of anything better than bringing Diana, the ‘People’s Princess’ back to life. And so that was our next target.
*
Where, when and exactly how the Princess of Wales died was very well documented in the history books and online, and at first it seemed a simple enough job to reverse history and prevent her death. But there was something we didn’t know.
We were sitting in our sun lounge at the rear of the house. This house was the type you would imagine multimillionaires owning – which of course we were. Our garden was the size of a football pitch, and I had installed an area for practising golf. In another part, Niki had a beautiful Chinese Garden with a medium–sized pond, around which we would often sit in the summer.
As we were talking, Nik suddenly remembered something.
“Joe, weren’t we going to take Smirnoff to see his mother? We promised him.”
“Oh god, yes! I’d forgotten about that. When did he say she died?” I asked.
“1997, I think. Oh!”
“What is it Nik?”
“That’s the same year Diana died.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yeah… I remember it pretty well – not the sort of thing you forget. It was the last day of August – a Sunday – and I was due to start year nine at school the next day. Definitely August 1997, but you can look it up if you like. Do we know what month Smirnoff’s Mama died?”
“I don’t remember him telling us that. Does it matter?”
“If he wants to see her before she dies it does!”
Niki got in contact with Smirnoff again. As usual, he would not take any direct calls, and she had to leave a message then wait for him to reply. The answer was one word: September. This meant that we could go to Paris, fix the Princess, and then travel on to Moscow with Smirnoff to see his mother. We thought it would be a good idea to set up a meeting with the Russian to talk about our Diana idea, and also the arrangements for travelling to Moscow. This time, Smirnoff chose St. Pancras railway station for our rendezvous.
“It’s a good plan!” the big man said, drawing on one of his Russian cigarettes, after we’d outlined our plans, “My mother would love the idea, god–bless her soul.”
“She would?” I said.
“Sure… everyone loved Diana, and Mama used to talk about the Princess as if she was her own daughter. She used to have pictures of Diana on her wall… one of them was signed.”
“Your mother met Diana?” Niki asked, wide–eyed.
“She did, yes. When Diana visited a hospital in Moscow, Mama happened to be there at the same time. It was a children’s hospital – Tushinskaya Hospital I think – and Mama was there with Katrina, my sister’s daughter. She had a throat infection, I remember, and Mama took her to Tushinskaya… it’s a well–known children’s hospital in Moscow. You can imagine her surprise when a British Princess came to visit! It was the first time Mama had been so close to anyone like this from your country, and it had a big affect on her. She thought Diana was the most wonderful person on the planet, and couldn’t stop talking about her. Diana sat on Katrina’s bed and held her hand.”
“So your mother actually spoke with Diana?” I asked.
“Sure she did – for about twenty minutes. Mama was like that – you just couldn’t shut her up when she got going. And if she liked someone, it was impossible to tear them apart.”
Niki and I just looked at each other. How spooky was this, I thought.
“Anyway, Diana sent her the signed photograph later on – someone from the British Embassy delivered it in person, with a hand–written note from Diana saying how much she’d enjoyed their talk. Mama couldn’t understand English, but Ana, my sister, translated it for her.”
“When was this?” Niki asked. Although we’d d
one a lot of research into Diana’s death, we’d missed anything about the visit to a Russian hospital.
“Let me see… I know it was two years before Mama died, so that makes it 1995. And I’m sure it was either May or June. You’ll find it on the internet… Tushinskaya Children’s Hospital.” Smirnoff paused for a moment, then continued. “You know, Mama was devastated after the accident.”
We asked Smirnoff if he’d think about our idea and draw up a plan. He wasn’t sure exactly which location would be best for our next meeting, but it would be either London or Paris. After that, we could all travel to Moscow.
***
Twenty–Six
The next day over breakfast, we reflected on the meeting with Smirnoff and our plan to prevent the death of Diana, Princess of Wales. Nik seemed a little frosty for some reason.
“It would be great if we could bring Diana back to life–right Nik?”
“Yes, of course. That’s what we discussed.”
After a pause, I said, “How about Smirnoff’s mother?”
“What about her?” said Niki.
“We could save her too.”
“Joe, she was old – she died of old age! If you’ve found the key to eternal youth, please tell me. I’m sure Ma will be very interested!”
“Excuse me for breathing.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you what I think: yes, we could actually go back twenty years in time, pick up Smirnoff’s mama and transport her to the present day. Then they’d be two Mrs Smirnoffs – one old, one young. So when one dies, the other can live on and keep Smirnoff happy. She’ll be the same age as his sister, but never mind.”
“It does sound a little crazy,” I admitted. Niki smiled back with that false one she does when she’s in no mood for smiling.
I got out my laptop and continued researching the events leading up to Diana’s death. Smirnoff was right about her visiting Tushinskaya Children’s Hospital in Moscow – and the date was June 16. In fact, the Princess also visited Moscow one year later as a patron of the hospital. His mother passed away on September 2, 1997 – just two days after Diana died.
It wasn’t long before Smirnoff got back in touch regarding our previous discussions. He asked if we could meet in our house – and we agreed. We didn’t think the neighbours would recognise the contract killer, and we knew it would be a one–off (though you can never tell with Smirnoff).
It was a pleasant September afternoon, and we sat outside enjoying the air in Niki’s Chinese garden.
“It’s an interesting case,” said Smirnoff with a smile. He’d refused the brandy I offered him – he never drinks on business – and sipped the strong black coffee Niki gave him instead.
“We thought you’d like it,” I smiled. Although I was 99.9 percent certain that no–one could possibly overhear our conversation in our obscenely large garden, we still had to be careful. Niki and I sat close together and spoke in hushed tones. Smirnoff, on the other hand, was unusually animated and it was hard to keep him quiet.
“The first thing is to prevent the driver from taking that route through the tunnel. This part is key.
“That’s why we need you Mr Smirnoff,” Niki said with smile.
“Okay, to business then,” Smirnoff said. “It seems to me there are two ‘issues’: the driver and the paparazzi. Option number one, I become Diana’s bodyguard cum driver. I’ve done this type of work before – and I like it. No-one gets between me and my client, and I’m a great driver. Take me back to 1997 and I’ll live in that time. Things weren’t so bad then.”
“It does mean there’ll be two of you living in 1997…” Niki observed.
“Great! We can do the job twice as well then! I’ll say he’s my kid brother.”
“And option two?” I asked.
“We talk to Diana. We give her videos, newspapers, magazines… anything to show her where her life is going and what’s going to happen in that tunnel. We should go back to a time before the divorce. After that, maybe it’s too late – maybe she won’t listen.
Niki was smiling. “I like the second idea,” she said.
“Yeah, but we’ve tried it before,” I pointed out, “and it didn’t work.”
We explained our failed attempt to prevent the rise of Hitler and the Second World War by taking evidence of the atrocities, the holocaust, and D–Day to a government minister. Smirnoff was clearly interested.
“Hey, you should have given me that job!”
“What job?” I asked.
“Taking out the Fuhrer… wow! I wouldn’t have bungled it like those guys did.”
“If anyone can do it, you’re the man,” I agreed. “But there’d probably be another Hitler to take his place.”
Smirnoff nodded sagely.
“I think the Diana situation is very different, Joe,” Niki said. “With the rise of Germany, there were too many people involved. We were dealing with governments with their own agendas that time. With Diana, it’s more personal – it’s really in her own hands. That’s my feeling.”
I had to say that Niki was right. And the fact we’d done something similar before meant we were better equipped to do it again – and better this time. So we sanctioned Smirnoff’s second option. We would prepare the materials, and he would accompany us to make sure we got to talk with Diana. As a hit–man, he could find his way into just about anywhere unseen.
***
Twenty–Seven
Having decided how we were going to intervene in the death of Princess Diana, the next thing to decide was exactly where and when.
Niki had researched Charles and Diana’s relationship on the internet, and the key dates were their separation in December 1992 and subsequent divorce at the end of August, 1996. Then there was Diana’s revealing and candid BBC interview in November 1995, which pretty much put a nail in her relationship with Charles. So it seemed that meeting the Princess of Wales during her visit to Moscow on 16th June, 1995 would be a good idea – a suitable time to talk to Diana, and a chance for Smirnoff to see his mother. And Moscow would not be freezing cold at that time of year, as Niki pointed out.
The next step was to collect the documents we needed to show Diana – old newspapers and magazines, videos, photographs of the crash – that sort of thing. We were busy downloading all this stuff, when Niki had a thought.
“Joe, what are we going to say when Diana asks where we got all this?”
“Just tell her the truth.”
“That we’re from the future?”
“Sure – why not? If none of this works, we can always try Plan B.”
“The one where Smirnoff signs up as her bodyguard?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Okay.”
Unlike some other jumps, we didn’t need to make radical changes to our clothing for this trip – maybe just pick up some old clothes from Oxfam if need be. We did think it would be useful to take an iPad though – for showing any videos and pictures. There was nothing like that on the market in 1995, but Apple had launched a ‘Message Pad’ a couple of years earlier, so our device wouldn’t blow her mind too much. And if it did, it would show we must be from the future, right?
Niki suggested we synchronise the days of the week in 1995 with our present time. We needed to arrive in Moscow on Thursday, 15th August, 1995, so we made sure we flew out on a Thursday. Otherwise, the day changes would do my head in (it’s bad enough when we fly to China and lose seven or eight hours in time difference).
Smirnoff’s role was to facilitate our operation – in whatever way necessary. Again, he wanted to travel alone, so Niki booked two business class seats for our four–hour Virgin Atlantic flight to Moscow. We suspected Smirnoff would take the Aeroflot flight the same day. Seeing as he let us have the last hit for free, we made sure he was paid for this job upfront. Fortunately, he didn’t need cash, so I made a transfer of 50,000 pounds to his bank account before we left. He even gave me an invoice! This was for building work on our new extension… well, t
he one we might have one day. Yes, Smirnoff had set up a small business in the UK, and even paid tax! A good cover for his other occupation.
Once everything was ready, we made our way to Gatwick Airport for our flight. These days, we only flew business or first class, which usually gave us access to the VIP lounges. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, as my mother would say.
I’d never been to Moscow before, but Niki had stopped off there one time when her flight to Shanghai was grounded. It was January, and she and her parents were off to visit relatives for Chinese New Year – and Moscow was freezing. The airline put them up in a hotel at the airport for the night, but they weren’t allowed to go into the city. Our plan this trip was to arrive in Moscow the day before Diana’s visit, book into a hotel, and make the final preparations for our meeting with the Princess. I was glad we were leaving the most difficult part of this to Smirnoff. Given the tight security she must be under, and the fact that we couldn’t speak the local language, it would be impossible to talk to her in private without getting arrested.
We’d arranged to meet Smirnoff at Moscow Domodedovo airport at 5pm after arriving from London. He had a big grin all over his face when he greeted us at the arrival gate.
“Welcome to Russia!” He hugged us both, and grabbed Niki’s suitcase. He was clearly not worried about being seen with us in his home country. “How was your trip?” he asked.
“Oh, you know… not bad… not as good as Aeroflot though,” I jested.
“Aeroflot? That’s Russian rubbish. I always fly British Airways.”
If Smirnoff was Pinocchio, his nose would be two feet long by now; he never ‘always’ did anything.
He had arranged for a private car to take us to our hotel, the downtown Marriott Royal Aurora, where he’d booked a room for us. Smirnoff wanted us to enjoy our stay in Moscow and see the sights whilst conducting our ‘business’. He didn’t stop talking all the way to the hotel – it was clearly a big thing for him to be back home, and he was certainly looking forward to seeing his mother again.
The Russian dropped us at his hotel and we arranged to meet at the Children’s Hospital at 10am the next morning. As we were waving him away, Niki said, “Are you sure Smirnoff knows where the hospital is Joe? We didn’t give him the address.”