"Now everything falls into place," said Andre. "Small wonder nothing about this scenario made any sense. There was a lunatic behind it."
"You do me an injustice, Miss Cross. From my point of view, it makes a great deal of sense. I have succeeded in playing both ends against the middle and in doing so I have managed to develop my plan sufficiently to escalate it into its next stage. My creatures have performed rather well, wouldn't you say?"
"Your creatures?" asked Delaney incredulously. "Whoever made those androids had to be a genius. Somehow I don't think you qualify."
Drakov pretended to look hurt. "I'm sorry you have such a low opinion of me, Mr. Delaney. However, you are quite correct, in at least one sense. My creatures are indeed works of genius. I did not create them, I merely provided the necessary inspiration and the funds. In fact, you have already met the man responsible. You will recall the old blind king? He was neither very old nor was he blind. He was most anxious to see how his harpies would respond in a field situation. But you are wrong in thinking them androids. They are the products of rather unusual genetic engineering."
"I don't believe you," Steiger said. "Those women at Lemons were androids. I saw the series stampings on them."
"Prototypes, Mr. Steiger, or may I presume upon our previous relationship and call you Creed? I must say I like that name better than your others. It seems to fit you."
"Prototypes of what?" asked Steiger.
"An entirely new form of temporal weapon," Drakov said. "Their creator calls them hominoids. They are genetically tailored beings made from cloned human cells and gestated in artificial wombs, then surgically and cybernetically augmented at various stages of their natural development. We use time travel to allow them to mature to the various necessary stages, then bring them back at optimal growth periods so that we may progress to the next developmental stage. They are natural beings, yet I suppose you could also call them supernatural, in a sense. Cybernetic implants make them completely programmable.
"The Lemnos women were part of a very primitive, early run of prototypes created under the auspices of the Special Operations Group. It was their intention to create an army of totally expendable temporal soldiers, but they lacked imagination. They were content merely to create an unsophisticated sub-race of humans that would have been little more than cannon fodder. They were afraid to create what could become a competitive species. I, on the other hand, offered their creator a chance to let his imagination run wild and to test his talents to their limits. What scientist could resist such an opportunity? You have seen the results being tested in the field, partially by yourselves. The Lemnos women were only the first generation. The titans were the next, followed by the harpies and the centaur. Each new generation has proved more successful than the previous one. The next generation is even more impressive."
"And I suppose the Special Operations Group is merely going to stand by idle while you disrupt their temporal continuity with your hominoids," said Delaney.
"No, Mr. Delaney, I don't imagine they will. However, the Special Operations Group believes that your people are responsible. They believe that a small commando strike force carried off a successful assault on their Project Infiltrator laboratory complex and captured its director, along with a substantial number of Infiltrator prototypes and genetic culture samples. They think the Temporal Intelligence Agency is now in possession of Project Infiltrator. I imagine they will probably launch a massive preventive strike against your time-line before you can bring Infiltrator hominoids of your own on line in a significant strike against them. And there we have the beauty of this little situation I have engineered."
Drakov smiled. "My plan has threatened your timeline with a strategic temporal strike. The only way you can prevent this strike, or at best delay it, is by helping me complete my operation here. Because if you successfully complete your mission, you will have added your disruptive influence to mine to create a significant temporal adjustment problem in this time period. That will immediately occupy a large portion of the Special Operations Group's attention, thereby preventing them from launching their strike before you can prepare for it. So, in effect, I will be helping you in the short run. But in the long run, by helping me, you will assist me in staging disruptions in your own timeline." He chuckled. "And there is nothing you can do about it. You have absolutely no choice at all."
"He can't be right," said Andre, glancing at the others.
Delaney clenched his teeth and swore softly. "I'm afraid he is. We can't exactly go to the opposition and tell them that we weren't responsible for heisting their Infiltrator Project. In the first place, they wouldn't believe us. And in the second place, even if they did, they couldn't afford to let us go. We'd be too valuable to their interrogation teams."
"We lose out either way," Steiger said. "If we abort the mission, we leave ourselves open to the opposition. If we complete the mission, we'll be helping Drakov."
"I see you grasp the situation," said Drakov. "Consider it a payback for your sanction of the Nautilus. And this time it's my turn to tell you that it's over. You have no options left."
"All right, Drakov," said Delaney. "For the moment, let's assume we let you call the shots. What do you want?"
"That somewhat weighty golden rug at your feet is the key to this entire scenario," said Drakov. "It is not the original golden fleece, but for all practical purposes, that makes no difference. The original fleece came from one of my creatures." He grinned. "Yes, there really was a flying ram and it was I who gave it to Nephele, who was no more a cloud nymph that I am a god. Aietes had the creature killed and skinned. It was the fleece of that creature, a sort of yellow-gold in color, which he first hung in this very grove. However, it soon began to rot, so he had this one made of real gold-thin gold wires fastened to several heavy layers of horsehide. The head is the actual skull of the original ram, covered with a thin coat of hammered gold. I imagine it would be almost priceless in the 27th century, even discounting its historical value.
"If Jason succeeds in bringing it back with him, it will result in the downfall of King Pelias," Drakov continued. "However, two things stand in his way. One is that Pelias has placed a spy among the Argonauts. Regrettably, I have not been able to learn who that spy is. My creatures were programmed not to kill certain key individuals in this scenario, but there is a chance that one of those they did kill was the spy. Unfortunately, there is no way to know for certain. The only one who knew the spy's identity was the High Priest of Iolchos and he died without revealing it. It seems I underestimated my ability to frighten him. The thought of being chastised by a god gave the poor man a heart attack. The second obstacle to Jason bringing back the golden fleece is you, which was why I chose this moment to enlighten you.
"You see," Drakov continued, "there never was an historical voyage of Jason and the Argonauts in this timeline. I made it all happen. The real Jason died along with his father, Aeson, murdered by cutthroats in the employ of Pelias, who now believes that his assassins bungled the job with the boy."
"The real Jason?" Delaney said, looking at Jason, who stood alongside Idmon and Medea, watching them with a bewildered expression on his face as they conversed in English.
"Yes, Mr. Delaney. It was necessary to create several hominoids to complete the mythical cast of this fascinating voyage. Jason is one, Hercules is the other. Neither of them realizes what he is of course. They were created in a laboratory and clocked back to this time period as children to be given into Chiron's care. And the centaur had precise instructions as to how
to raise them. In that sense, the experiment has been wonderfully successful. We can create hominoids, place them in a temporal scenario, and have their development supervised by other hominoids, even in the midst of humans. All I need do is check on them from time to time, if you will pardon the pun. The others are all genuine, historical figures who would have followed slightly different paths had I not interfered. Theseus, for example, would never have made the voyage, but would have remained in Athens. Meleager would have found other challenges elsewhere. Argus would have built other vessels. I merely created a detour in their lives."
"So the voyage itself is the disruption," said Delaney. "If we had sabotaged the quest, we would have sabotaged our own mission."
"Which he suckered us into," Steiger added.
"On the other hand," said Drakov, "if you help Jason fulfill his quest, you will not only succeed in dethroning Pelias and altering the history of this timeline, you will contribute to the fame of all the others, many of whom will go on to become significant historical figures in this time period. Hercules is already an excellent example. Reversing the effects of this voyage will be a monumental task for the Special Operations Group, if they can accomplish it. And chances are excellent that they have already begun. I have taken great pains to keep this operation secret, but due to the extent of it, it is doubtful that it has escaped the attention of their temporal observers. They will realize, of course, that Hercules never actually existed in this timeline, but they won't be able to attack the ship without endangering Theseus and the others, whose deaths could be significantly disruptive. And, needless to say, they will wish to capture you alive, if possible. I'll be interested to see how they will try it."
"So that's what you needed us for," said Andre, "to help your Jason hominoid complete the quest and make sure the Special Operations Group doesn't interfere with it."
"Precisely," Drakov said. "Isn't it amusing, Miss Cross? For once, we have a common goal. And your presence in this scenario diverts attention from me. Who knows, perhaps there is a way I can arrange for the Special Operations Group to help me do the same in your timeline. I feel rather like the hunter who has happened upon two stags battling for supremacy. While they are busy ramming at each other, the hunter bags two kills."
He touched the warp disc on his wrist and suddenly he wasn't there anymore.
"A god!" said Jason, in a low and reverent voice. "I have seen and spoken with a god!"