Title: Proof of Existence: Chapter Five
Disclaimer: Insert traditionally humorous disclaimer of ownership here.
Authors note: I've taken some liberties with the story of City on the Edge of Forever in order to make it make more sense historically. If I remember correctly, all the original episode said was that Edith's movement delayed the entry of the US into the war. I think I've come up with a logical explanation for how that could have occurred. Important! I know nothing about how nicotine patches are used in reality. The ones in the story are improved, 23rd century patches. And I realized that "De Salle", not "LaSalle" was the name of the navigator in the Squire of Gothos. At some point I'll go back and edit the past chapters but for now I've gotten him right in this one. A historical note, estimates for Russians killed in the Second World War range between 20 and 28 million. Chekov, being Chekov, has gone for the upper end of the range.
My thanks to my brother Tom for some ideas about Kyle, and to The River Rat for suggesting The White Cliffs of Dover when I needed a song suggestion. And as always, thanks to my husband and to Paper Parcel. Special thanks to those who take the time to review, if you've read the story this far, please let me know what you think!
While they were waiting for Nurse Chapel to take their blood samples, Ash absently got a fag out of his case. He was just about to light a match when his eyes met the nurse's, and her expression reminded him of what the doctor had said.
"Oh blast" he exclaimed, replacing it in his cigarette case. "Sorry, I forgot."
"I'm sorry" Chapel said. "But it's the air recycling, you know, and the fire control system, too."
Ash sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He didn't want to say anything, but he really needed a fag. It had been a long time.
"I know it's supposed to be hard giving them up" Chapel said sympathetically. "I can give you something to make it easier."
Ash was about to say no, but thought better of it. "What?" he asked dubiously.
"Wait a moment" the nurse said, and left the room. A moment later she was back with what looked like some slips of paper. "Here. Peel off the backing and stick the patch on bare skin somewhere on your upper arm. Leave it on all day, and replace it tomorrow. Didn't Dr. McCoy offer them to you?"
Ash shrugged. "He said something about 'patches' but he didn't explain. How do they work?"
"They have nicotine in them. That's what tobacco has that makes it addictive. If you're getting it absorbed through your skin from the patch, you don't need to smoke."
"Fiendishly clever." Ash smiled. "Not as satisfying though, I don't suppose."
"Probably not" Chapel sympathized. "But better than nothing. While I'm at it, Dr. McCoy left these for your leg." She handed him a bottle of pills. "They'll dissolve instantly. Just take one a day."
The pill was tasteless, and as promised melted away almost instantly.
"All right now" Chapel said cheerfully, "Let's get on with the tests. This won't hurt a bit."
After she was done, Ash said, "I would ask you how it works, but I don't suppose I would understand a word."
Chapel shook her head. "Not without a background in biochemistry, and even then I'd have to bring you up to date on three hundred years of developments. It's accurate, though." She smiled and held up the two labeled vials. "I'll just take these down to the lab."
"And" put in Lieutenant Kyle, who had been waiting, "I'm supposed to bring you down to your quarters. I can have your things sent down, or we can just carry them."
"We may as well carry it ourselves. Sergeant?"
"Aye sir." Together they gathered up the few items they had.
As Captain Kirk had ordered, Kyle brought them to the Ambassadorial suite. It had a living and office area, a bathroom, and two sleeping alcoves, a larger one, for the ambassador, and a smaller one, for, Kyle presumed, an attaché or valet. He showed them how the clothing replicators and sonic cleaners worked, and ran each of them up a set of plain black fatigues for sleeping in. "Not what you're used to, probably" he said apologetically, "But comfortable enough."
Sergeant James was scrutinizing himself in one of the mirrors. "Excuse me a moment, sir." he said and ducked into the bathroom. When he came out a moment later, Kyle saw his hair was damp and slicked flat.
"Sergeant James, would you like me to try and get you something for your hair?" Kyle asked, remembering what styles of the 1930s and '40s looked like.
"Aye, sir, if you can." James said, a note of gratitude in his voice. "I didn't care to ask, but I would appreciate it."
Kyle thought for a moment. "The trouble is, men's styles now don't use oil. But…" He had a sudden idea. "If you don't mind using something that's made for a woman, I think I have a friend who can help."
James looked dubious. "As long as it's not too flowery. I wouldn't want to smell like a nancy-boy."
It took Kyle a moment, but then the meaning clicked. "Oh. I'll see what I can do. But I wouldn't use that expression, sergeant, it might create bad feelings."
The sergeant gave him an odd look, but nodded.
Kyle went to the comm unit on the wall. "Lt. Kyle to Janice Rand." In his capacity as transporter chief, Kyle had responsibility for training the yeomen. From being his star pupil, Yeoman Rand had gone on to be a personal friend, and, he hoped, maybe something more.
"Rand here, hi Kyle, what's up?" Her cheery voice came through the speaker.
"You know that Captain Kirk has me showing Captain Ash and Sergeant James around, right?"
"I'd heard. Some people have all the luck."
"Well the sergeant needs something to smooth his hair down. I thought you might know the sort of thing. Do you have anything you could give him? But it can't smell to flowery."
"I don't know." Rand said teasingly. "Do I get to deliver it myself?"
"Are you off duty?"
"Yes, I am. For the rest of the day."
"Then bring whatever you have down to the Ambassadorial suite, and I'll introduce you to them both."
"Great! See you in a jiffy!"
Sergeant James looked around the rooms they had been assigned with approval. Of course the captain had the larger of the two sleeping areas, that went without saying. And he would just have to act as the captain's batman for the moment. Now if this lady friend of Lt. Kyle's had something that could keep his hair smooth, all would be as well as could be in the circumstances.
It was only a few moments before there was a soft chime from the door. Lieutenant Kyle opened it.
"Captain Ash, Sergeant James, I'd like you to meet Yeoman Rand."
"Pleased to meet you, Yeoman" Ash said politely.
"Yeoman." The sergeant nodded. Before anything else he noticed her hair. He eyed the involved basket-weave with something akin to awe, understanding why Kyle had turned to her for help. If whatever she used could keep that imposing structure together, it could keep his thinning hair under control too.
"Hi" the yeoman said cheerfully. "I've been wanting to meet you two since you came on board. Who needs to use this?" She held out a small jar.
"That would be me, thank you, Yeoman." James said gratefully. He sniffed at it with some trepidation, but was pleased to find it had only a slight tangy smell.
"I had the replicator whip me up a jar without scent." she said.
"Aye, that's fine. Thank you very much, Yeoman. Excuse me for a moment."
He soon had his hair restored to it's proper condition. Feeling much more himself, he rejoined the others. There he found Yeoman Rand talking about plans for their afternoon.
"Look Kyle, you can't just leave them here all day. What would they do? They can't read or watch or listen to anything that has the slightest risk of telling them something they shouldn't know, and that means anything that's less than three hundred years old!"
"Well then, what should we do?"
"We'll show them around the ship. Not places like engineering, that are only interesting if you know what everything is, and you can't explain anything because it's all things they shouldn't know. But there's places that are fun just on their own." She thought for a moment, then brightened. "I know! The botany lab!"
"The botany lab?" Kyle asked blankly.
"Sure. Sulu has all those weird plants. They'll never have seen anything like them before. And I can think of a few other places, after that."
So Sergeant James found himself following the others on a tour of the ship. He wasn't much for gardens himself, growing up as he had in the city of Glasgow. But even so, the he found the botany labs impressive. Ash, who had grown up with his aunt in the countryside in Surry, and did know something about plants gave a startled whistle when they walked in. It was a riot of strange growth. Some of the plants seemed more like animals, like the five leaved palm-tree like thing that Yeoman Rand said was named "Beaureguard". "It's Sulu's favorite" she explained, petting it. It made a noise like a cat purring.
They spent enough time in the lab that James was starting to worry about the Captain's bad leg. But Ash seemed to be standing comfortably, propped on his cane. Whatever the doctor had given him was working well enough.
He managed to catch Ash alone for a moment, as Kyle and Yeoman Rand bent over a particularly large red blossom together.
"Not exactly what you'd expect on a military ship, is it sir?" he asked, gesturing around.
Ash shrugged. "No, it's not." He glanced pointedly at Kyle and Rand. "Still, it seems to make them happy." The two men exchanged bemused smiles.
After the botany lab, Kyle turned to Yeoman Rand, who seemed somehow to have taken charge of the excursion.
"Well, now where?" he asked.
"I want it to be a surprise." Rand smiled. She whispered something in Kyle's ear. Kyle nodded in approval.
"That's a sight worth seeing, all right." he agreed. So they were off again. James was beginning to wish that Kyle had left them in their quarters, boring or not. Something any old soldier learned was how to nap whenever there was nothing else to do, and he was thinking a nap sounded good around now. He managed to catch Ash's eye with a "what now?" expression. Ash's look of polite resignation spoke volumes.
But when they finally arrived at their destination, James forgot any feelings of resentment he might have had.
"This is the observation deck" Rand said, leading them in.
"Good lord!" Ash murmured.
"That's something, right enough, sir" James murmured in awed response.
The dim room was huge. One entire wall was a window that looked out into… nothing. A nothingness that was blacker than the blackest night on earth, jeweled with stars that were brighter and harder than any he had ever seen before. There was no familiar twinkle to them, just a steady burn. Hanging below them was the bulk of what must be the planet they had been found on, and just rising over its edge was a blaze of light that had to be its sun.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Yeoman Rand asked. "Seeing this is why we go to space, some of us at least."
There were a number of small tables scattered around the room, and at several of them groups of people sat, either in quiet conversation, or drinking. Sergeant James wondered wistfully what they were drinking. After the past few days he could do with a pint or two. Or something stronger, by choice. And this room would be a place to drink them in, right enough.
Ash was staring at the window. "That's unbelievable." he swallowed. "Can we… can we see the sun from here?"
"Kyle and Yeoman Rand looked at each other. "I don't know." Kyle admitted. "If someone from navigation is here…"
"There's De Salle." Yeoman Rand said. "I'll bet he knows. Or can find out. Hey! De Salle!" she called.
A man at one of the tables looked up, and came over to them. James remembered having been introduced to him at the briefing earlier.
"Hi Kyle, Janice. Showing the guests around?" he turned to Ash and James. "Nice to see you again, gentlemen."
"Captain Ash was wondering if we could see Earth's sun from here." Yeoman Rand explained.
De Salle rubbed his head thoughtfully. "Let me think about that." he went over to one of the terminals and worked some controls rapidly.
"Yes, there we go. You're in luck, gentlemen. We can see it from this view." He pointed to the upper left corner of the window. "Up there. The dim yellow star, fourth over, and down about 20 degrees from the top."
They stared. It looked like a star like any other.
"It's so small" Ash murmured, half to himself.
"We're very far away." De Salle pointed out.
They stood looking at the scene for a few more minutes, silently. Then Ash asked "What's that window made of? It can't be glass."
"No it's transparent a….." Kyle stopped mid-word. "Sorry, that's another thing I don't think I should tell you."
Ash's lips pursed in irritation.
Yeoman Rand had been watching the interplay. "Maybe we should have dinner now" she broke in, changing the subject.
Janice Rand looked around the table. She was so happy Kyle had thought of asking her to help out. Even if it was her hair that had made him think of her. So there! to everyone who made fun of her involved weave. It had its uses after all, in this case letting her meet the visitors, and incidentally letting her be useful to Kyle, which was nice too. She smiled happily at him. He was deeply involved in a discussion with Captain Ash about life in London in his time. Sergeant James was watching with an amused expression, occasionally putting in a comment himself. De Salle, who had somehow added himself to the party, listened in.
They had had dinner, and now Kyle had convinced the replicators to come up with beer. Rand was not really a big beer drinker, but Ash and James seemed happy with it. This was the first time she had been out in the evening with Kyle. Did it count as their first date, she wondered. It was cute how that proper British reserve he always held on the surface fell away in the face of his enthusiasm.
"Hey guys!" Lt. Uhura's greeting broke into her reverie. The communications officer was standing over their table.
"Hey Uhura!" A voice came from somewhere across the room. "You going to sing for us tonight?"
"Yeah, come on Nyota!" called another voice.
Uhura smiled a dazzling smile but shook her head. "No, not tonight, boys." she called back.
"Aw come on, Uhura." Kyle broke in unexpectedly. "How about something nostalgic for our guests?"
"Gee, Kyle. I don't even think I know anything that would be appropriate."
"I'll bet you do. Come on, let's look."
Uhura let herself be led over to a terminal. Muffled comments drifted over to Rand's ears. "See, this is perfect. And you can even get accompaniment."
Uhura laughed. "All right, Kyle, you win. I'm convinced." She raised her voice. "Ok, guys. I'll sing." There was a small cheer.
"All right, ready?" Kyle asked. Uhura nodded. Kyle started the music. It was sweet and haunting. Uhura sang:
"There'll be blue birds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow, just you wait and see."
Beside Rand, Ash breathed in, a catch in his throat. The sergeant listened raptly.
"There'll be love and laughter
And peace ever after,
Tomorrow, when the world is free."
Even Kyle looked a little misty, Rand noticed, surprised.
"There'll be blue birds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow, just you wait and see."
Uhura ended to thunderous applause.. Kyle wiped his eyes, then noticing Rand watching him, smiled crookedly and shrugged. "It's been a long time since I had shore leave home." he explained.
Uhura pulled up a chair to their table and sat down.
"That was beautiful, Lieutenant." Ash said enthusiastically.
"That it was, ma'am." the sergeant added.
"Aw, thanks guys." De Salle handed her a glass, and she took a thankful sip.
"May I join you?" Ensign Chekov's cheerful Russian accent broke into the chatter.
"Sure, Pavel." Uhura moved over, giving him room to pull a chair between her and Kyle. Kyle performed introductions.
"I haf vanted a chance to meet you" Chekov said. "It is not every day we get to meet heroes."
"Heroes?" Ash laughed. "Well, thank you, Ensign, but I scarcely think…"
"All who fought in the war against Hitler were heroes." Chekov said with, Rand thought, uncharacteristic seriousness. "The Great Patriotic War, we call it. Twenty eight million dead in Russia, we do not forget this. Not even in three hundred years."
"Twenty eight.. million?" Ash whispered. "We knew losses on the Eastern Front were terrible, but… that many?"
"Chekov" Kyle put in warningly. "Watch what you tell them."
"All right, Kyle, I vill only say that every family in Russia had someone to mourn." Chekov said solemnly. "That is why I vant to drink a toast to men who were actually there to oppose Hitler."
"Oh look, is that really necessary?" Ash asked, embarrassment in his voice. The sergeant looked as though he might like to crawl under the table.
"Yes, it is." Chekov said firmly. "After all, toasting was a Russian inwenition."
"No it wasn't." De Salle muttered. Chekov gave him a dirty look, and pulled out a small bottle. "Does everyone haf a glass?" he asked around the table. There was some scurrying around but eventually everyone had a glass of vodka (Of course, Rand thought, what else would it be?)
Chekov stood and declaimed "To the men who fought the war that saved our world from destruction, so that we could be here, free and alive tonight. The ones who lived, the ones who died, but most importantly, the ones we actually have here now. Za vashe zdorovye!"
Everyone drank. Rand coughed and looked at her glass in surprise. "Chekov? How strong is this?"
"Strong as Russian winter!" Chekov said smiling. "100 proof, the good stuff." Rand decided she was glad it was a small bottle and a large group, or else she could see the evening disintegrating rapidly.
"Well, on behalf of Sergeant James and myself, thank you all for making us feel very welcome." Ash said, lifting his glass in turn.
Captain Kirk, with Mr. Spock at his side, walked up to the table where his crew were entertaining their visitors. Lt. Uhura was the first to notice his presence.
"Hello Captain." She smiled. Everyone paused and looked up.
"Hello Lieutenant. I see everyone's been keeping our visitors busy."
"Ve are toasting the heroes." Chekov said. "Would you like to join us, Captain?" He held up his bottle of vodka.
"No thank you, Ensign" Kirk demurred.
"I've made sure they haven't been told anything they shouldn't know." Kyle said. "Except for Chekov's twenty eight million dead Russians." he added honestly, with a dirty look at the young ensign. Chekov shrugged.
"I think that is acceptable." Spock said gravely.
"All right people." Kirk said. "Mr. Spock and I want to have a private word with Captain Ash and Sergeant James. Just for a few moments, then you can come back."
There were murmured assent from everyone and the table cleared. Kirk noticed with some amusement that Chekov made sure he took the bottle with him.
He and Spock sat down. "So have my crew been keeping you busy?" he asked.
Ash nodded. "It's been quite interesting. Though not educational." he added wryly. "It seems as though every other question I ask is something we shouldn't know."
"I'm sorry about that." Kirk paused, then went on. "In a sense, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I feel we owe you an apology and an explaination for seeming to take your lives lightly. It's not that we don't care if you live or die, it's that we know, from experience, how very fragile the course of history can be. How even such a small thing as one person's life can change the whole world."
"One life? Winston Churchill's maybe. But ours?" A note of disbelief was in ash's voice.
Kirk nodded. "Let me tell you a story. Your presence here isn't the first time we have had to deal with the effects of time travel. We've accidentally found ourselves in the past on more than one occasion, a result of effects predicted by Einstein as long ago as your time. In addition, we've found artifacts of other civilizations that have the power to move people through time. One of them, the Guardian of Forever, is vastly powerful, able to show the past of any planet and put people into any point in its history." Kirk sighed. "If it wasn't for Grylock isolating us here, we could just take you two to the researchers on the Guardian's planet and let them worry about you."
He pause again, then went on. "But anyway, when we first discovered the Guardian of Forever, I led a landing party to the planets surface. One of the crew, I won't say who, ended up accidentally going through the Guardian's portal, to somewhere in Earth's past. And… time changed. Just like that. Those few of us on the planets surface were protected, but the Guardian told us everyone else was gone. Our ship had never existed, our whole world was destroyed. Gone." He paused again, remembering the horror and lonliness of that time.
Ash swallowed. "What happened?"
"We knew we had to follow the crewman to stop whatever he had done. Mr. Spock and I went through the portal together. We ended up somewhere in the United States, in 1930."
Ash looked at Spock. "That must have caused some problems." he said dryly.
"I wore a woollen cap pulled down over my ears." Spock said. "I think my color was usually ascribed to bad health and malnutrition. It was the so-called 'Great Depression' after all, and we were in a slum area."
"Mr. Spock tracked down the point of the time dissruption. " Kirk said. "It was a woman. A relief worker. She ran a soup kitchen. She was… beautiful. She had two potential futures. In one she became famous. Talked to President Roosevelt in the White House. In the other… she died. That year. Unknown, except by the people she had helped. And that was the only thing our missing crewman had done. Saved the life of a gentle, kind woman who had helped him"
Kirk faded off, unable to continue. Spock picked up the story. "Later we reconstructed what happened in that alternative time line, where she lived. She was a pacifist, and believer in international justice. The movement she started led to the United States making important trade concessions to Japan over the course of the '30s. As a result the Japanese did not attack Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, so the United States did not declare war on Japan. More importantly from the point of view of your world's fate, Germany did not declare war on the United states four days later. There was no excuse for the United States to enter the war. Her movement also pressed for strengthening the Neutrality Acts. President Roosevelt was not able to get the Lend-lease Acts through Congress. The aid the United States was able to give Britain and the Soviet Union was minimal. Without aid, Britain fell quickly. The prediction of your Winston Churchill came true. You fought them on the beaches, in the fields, in the cities… but eventually you lost."
Ash stared in horror. Spock's quiet voice went on.
"Then Hitler turned against the Soviet Union in force. Without British and American help, not even the bulk of the Russian landmass could save them. Moscow fell, and Hitler ruled Europe."
Kirk picked up again. "Then Hitler went after the British government-in-exile that had been established in Canada. Attacking North America finally got the United States involved, but by then it was to late. German had been working on…" Kirk caught himself before he mentioned the atomic bomb or V2 rockets. ".. on some particularly powerful weapons. Given the additional time, they developed them, and used them. Canada and the United States were utterly destroyed."
Spock picked up again. "The rest of this is only a guess, but given the nature of Hitler's Germany, probably correct. The Third Reich lasted a hundred or so years, but eventually internal discension tore it apart. By then their weapons were even more powerful. They used them on each other, and destroyed their own world completely."
"We didn't know all of this then, of course. All we knew was that if Edith lived, Germany won the war." Kirk continued bleakly. "But there was a complication. By the time we learned even that much, we had been there several months subjective time. I had become - involved - with Edith. We were in love…" He looked hard at Ash. "Then the day came she was supposed to die. I stood and watched her die in front of me, run over by a delivery wagon. I even prevented the missing crewman from saving her life. And then we were back on the Guardian's planet. Only moments had passed. Time was restored." Kirk put his hands over his eyse.
"I'm sorry" Ash said quietly.
"You understand why I'm telling you this? Not only to explain how one life can make such a difference. But also, I've already paid to much to keep time in its course. I won't have it destroyed at this point."
"I understand" Ash agreed.
There was silence for a few moments. Kirk was millions of miles and hundreds of years away, remembering Edith.
Spock broke into his thoughts at last. "Captain, if we are finished, I believe that some of the crew wish to continue visiting with our guests."
"Yes, certainly." Kirk pulled himself back to the present, and motioned over the waiting group. "I'll leave you all to a good evening then. " He stood to go. "Coming, Mr. Spock?"
Ash thought about what Kirk and Spock had said after they left. The vision of the changed history was chilling. In that time-line what had happened to him, and his family, and his men? Images passed through his mind, of Nazi soldiers in his aunt's peaceful garden, of the quiet street where he was billeted with the Bakers, shelled and laid waste, of his section in actual combat, street to street, house to house, like Stalingrad. Twenty-eight million Russians dead winning the war, what would have been the death-toll of British in losing?
He was so caught up in his own thoughts that until Mr Scott spoke, he hardly noticed the group of crew people returning, with some additions.
"Sergeant James, as one Scotsman to another, I thought you might like a taste of home." The engineer brought out a bottle, and showed it to James.
The sergeant's eyes widened. "Glenfiddich, 50 years old! That's remarkably kind of you, sir."
"A birthday present from my sister." Mr. Scott said modestly. "I was savin' it for a special occasion, and what better than this?" Almost reverently he poured for everyone at the table.
More people drifted over, and someone pulled up another table. Ash lost track of the introductions, and started simply smiling in response. He saw that Sergeant James was deep in conversation with Mr. Scott. It was unusual to see him so extroverted, but Ash was glad to see he seemed to be enjoying himself.
Time passed. Mr. Scott's bottle was emptied, as Ensign Chekov's had been. Eventually Ash started thinking about the next day's briefing, and that maybe it was time to get back to their quarters.
Sergeant James had done his best to take care of Captain Ash, but Ash hadn't wanted much help.
"I don't want to be fussed over, Sergeant." he'd said rather snappishly.
"Well, sir, with Mully not here, some one has to be your batman.
"Look, I lived quite successfully for most of my life without a valet, I can take care of myself for a few days. If you really insist, you can help me get my uniform on straight tomorrow."
James' mouth set in irritation. It upset his sense of propriety. But he had to be satisfied with it.
As he settled himself into his own bed, James mused about his luck. One of the first things a soldier learned was that you saluted the uniform, not the person in it. If the person inside the uniform was worth the salute, that was an extra blessing.
He remembered the first time he had met Ash, the newly commissioned second lieutenant he had been then, almost young enough to be the sergeant's own son, terrified of the job he'd been assigned yet still determined to see it through. James wouldn't have given much for his chances of survival. In fact, he knew the men of the section were betting heavily against Ash surviving his first bomb. It almost broke the sergeant's heart to see such young lads killed like that.
He had offered to supervise Ash's first attempt. It was when Ash had firmly declined and sent James back to the safety point that the sergeant had felt the first stirrings of respect for him. It was obvious that the white-faced, shaking Ash expected to die, and didn't want to take the sergeant with him.
But Ash hadn't died, and unlike his unfortunate predeccessor, Lt. Atkinson, he had eventually won the respect of all his men.
Now here they were in this strange time and place, and while Sergeant James wouldn't have wished this on anyone, he had to admit he was glad he wasn't alone, and that it was Ash he was with.
"Sir?" The suite had been arranged cleverly, to allow for privacy yet still make talking betweent he two occupants easy.
"Yes, Sergeant?"
"What are we going to do if they won't send us home?" James hoped the captain understood what he was saying behind the words.
"I don't know, Sergeant. But we'll be all right. I'm sure they'll find some niche for the two of us somewhere." Yes, Ash had heard the unasked question, "Will we stay together, sir?"
"In a museum, belike. Charge twopence to come see us."
Ash laughed at that, then grew more serious. "Wait though. Here's a thought. If there's still a Britian, then there's still a British Army, or some successor to it. We'll just report for duty. Let them worry about what to do with us."
It was the sergeant's turn to laugh then. "They'll be surprised to find they owe us 300 years back pay."
"Do you suppose they'd actually come through with it all? We could buy Windsor Castle to retire in."
"I'd rather Buckingham Palace, if it's all the same to you, sir. I've never been one for the countryside."
"What, you can't see yourself riding out to with the hounds?"
The sergeant laughed again. "Nay sir, that I can't."
"Well then, we'll make it Buckingham Palace. Now, good-night."
"Aye, sir. Good night."
Authors note: White Cliffs of Dover was written by Nat Burton in 1941.