The Empire of Time (Roads to Moscow)

The Empire of Time (Roads to Moscow)

David Wingrove

Language: English

Pages: 496

ISBN: 0091956161

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

There is only the war. Otto Behr is a German agent, fighting his Russian counterparts across three millennia, manipulating history for moments in time that can change everything. Only the remnants of two great nations stand and for Otto, the war is life itself, the last hope for his people. But in a world where realities shift and memory is never constant, can one man’s destiny be the deciding factor in a war between the empires of time?

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surrounded him. But let’s persevere. Find out what they’re up to. It might prove crucial. Besides, we’ve no chance at all of saving Ernst unless Albrecht’s friend can find the power source for us. Hang in there. Meanwhile, I’ll rustle up some cover. And don’t worry, Otto. You won’t be alone in there, I promise you.’ ‘There’s one other thing.’ ‘Go on.’ ‘I don’t know enough about the Age. I feel unprepared. And I don’t know how much I can rely on Albrecht to fill in the gaps. Maybe I should—’

watching me. He seems less angry now. ‘Tell me,’ he says. ‘What were you doing down there? Why were you so interested in the power source?’ ‘I had heard rumours, my lord.’ ‘Rumours?’ ‘That there was leakage. That the impossible had happened and that the black hole was failing.’ Manfred studies me a moment, then turns away. ‘Are you working for them, Lucius?’ ‘Them?’ ‘The Russians.’ I laugh. It’s so preposterous, it’s almost funny. ‘No. For us.’ ‘Us? Who’s us?’ And he half turns towards

started going out on a limb – though nothing as left-field as your last trip back.’ ‘And nothing works?’ They don’t need to answer that. Of course it doesn’t. That’s why we’re here. But I’m thinking aloud now. ‘But the cup …’ Albrecht looks to his brother. ‘The cup?’ ‘The lavender-glazed cup,’ Hecht explains, then looks to me. ‘What about it?’ ‘Just that it has to get into Gehlen’s possession somehow. That has to happen.’ ‘Okay. But what’s the significance of that?’ ‘I don’t know. Only

sheets fall back to reveal her breasts. Not an old woman at all, but a girl. A young, attractive girl. Seydlitz looked at her and felt a trembling pass through him. My child. My son. A leader like no other. ‘No,’ he said. ‘This is a trick. A game.’ ‘No game,’ she answered. ‘This much is for real. This much will remain unchanged.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘This is the last of it. The tying of ends. The circle mended. Only the file to remind us of the cost of meddling.’ Seydlitz hesitated. He had

staying here. There’s food in the cold-store and a change of clothes in one of the drawers. Satisfied, I jump out of there and then instantly jump back, to two fifteen on the afternoon of 28 July 1759. The clearing is exactly the same as I remember it. It is barely ten minutes since Freisler and I jumped out of here, though in subjective terms I have been gone the best part of four hours. I count to ten and Freisler appears beside me, shimmering out of the air like a ghost. There’s a rustling

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