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Righting time

Kat Jaske

346 pages
Infinity Publishing - 2007 - États-Unis
SF, Fantasy - Roman

Intérêt: 0

 

 

Avec ce troisième volume après For honor et Gambit, la série By honour bound change de registre en basculant dans la science-fiction. En l’an 2514, un jeune opérateur maladroit de la Guilde du Temps fait une fausse manœuvre et expédie en 2060 un personnage du XVIIème siècle. Il s’agit de Konrad, le pire ennemi des mousquetaires dans le tome deux de la série. Comme ce malencontreux incident risque de perturber le cours de l’Histoire, la Guilde doit intervenir. La solution à laquelle elle s’arrête consiste à aller chercher les mousquetaires et à les transporter en 2060 pour qu’ils récupèrent Konrad et le ramènent à son époque qu’il n’aurait jamais dû quitter.

Intervenir est d’autant plus nécessaire que Konrad devient en un rien de temps un personnage clé du XXIème siècle. Pas du tout dépaysé, ce très méchant s’allie aussitôt au syndicat du crime de Washington, qui ambitionne de prendre le pouvoir dans le monde entier. Konrad navigue avec aisance dans les intrigues et les complots de 2060 dont il maîtrise parfaitement les ressorts politiques, assassine un leader japonais, renverse le chef de l’Etat russe, etc.

Face à lui, l’équipe formée par les cinq mousquetaires (les quatre habituels et la jeune femme Laurel d’Anlass) accompagnés d’agents de l’an 2514 s’agite en tous sens pour réparer les dégâts, au fil de complots et contre complots tous plus compliqués les uns que les autres. Inutile de dire que les mousquetaires n’ont pas besoin de plus de 48 heures pour être parfaitement adaptés au changement d’époque: ils maîtrisent les technologies, comprennent les rapports de force politiques et les relations internationales, etc. Porthos peut à lui tout seul ou presque remette au pouvoir le président russe renversé. On apprend au passage que Laurel a des pouvoirs paranormaux exceptionnels, ce qui est bien pratique: elle peut faire fondre l’acier de ses menottes quand elle est capturée par ses ennemis.

Malgré les dégâts plutôt violents occasionnés aux événements historiques par la présence des hommes venus du passé (assassinats de dirigeants, coup d’Etat, etc.), il paraît que les efforts des mousquetaires suffisent à rafistoler le cours de l’Histoire. Tout finit bien, avec le retour des cinq mousquetaires et de Konrad au XVIIème siècle. Et un mariage dans les dernières pages: celui de Laurel et Aramis, qui ont passé tout le livre à se disputer mais s’aiment quand même.

Sans commentaire.

 Voir l'arbre généalogique d'Aramis


Extrait

Keith’s eyes turned to his stepdaughter, questioning, the truth. The thought echoed through her mind, and she warned the older man to be careful about using his telepathic talent right now. However, in acknowledgment she nodded her head a fraction. The black man took a long, deep breath. “We are not from your time. We are from very far in your future — more than eight hundred, closer to nine hundred years to be more precise.”

Already the musketeers were trading looks that plainly told them they thought Keith was lying through his teeth or fit for the madhouse. “There has been a big disturbance in the time continuum that sent a man we know as Herzog Konrad into the twenty-first century, where he wreaked so much havoc that the entire timeline was drastically changed. We came back here to obtain your help to find the man and stop him from destroying the future of this entire world.” Keith ran out of words to say.

“Of course, and I’ve walked on the moon numerous times.” Porthos’ voice was plainly deriding, and it was only a warning look from Laurel that stopped him from forcibly ejecting the three lunatics.

“Actually, men do walk on the moon in the midtwentieth,” Daryl piped up and then abruptly fell silent, not wanting to get into an argument with the large man. No telling what damage a man that strong could do to him, and the medical facilities around here left a great deal to be desired.

D’Artagnan slid his gaze to Laurel. She was far too serious and still. Was the marquise actually considering this delusion of madness as truth? “Do you actually believe them?” the youngest musketeer asked.

“Can I take the chance that they aren’t lying to me and turn my back on them only to find out that Konrad really does do what they claim he does?” Laurel sank onto the sofa next to her friend. “Put it this way. I don’t disbelieve them.” She couldn’t afford to, and her gut instinct was to trust Jala. More often than not her instincts were accurate. That was one trait she and her stepsister, Sabine, had often shared. The lingering memory of loss and betrayal still gave her a pang of anguish, and she pushed it away quickly.

“Laurel,” Jala handed the woman the pack and urged her to open it, “I’d like you to take a look at this. Just be careful. Some of that stuff is quite sensitive, and I wouldn’t want anyone here to get hurt.”

 Laurel pulled the strange veston from the pack and held it up so she could get a better look at it. Never before had she seen anything remotely like it. The material itself was nothing like any cloth anywhere in the known world, as far as she could ascertain, and she had traveled extensively with her father on his spy missions. The marquise reached into one of the pockets and withdrew a handheld link, the comstat.

Though, she had no idea what it was, still, it mesmerized her. The unit was well beyond any technology of her age. Jala was telling the truth. She was convinced of it even though her friends were not. She could tell by the skeptical looks on their faces. Laurel replaced the items in the pack and handed it back to the other woman.

The marquise got to her feet. At that moment Athos halted her. “You mean to go with them?”

Oui, Athos. Even though you do not believe, I do. And I must go.”

“Laurel, you have no idea who these people are. It could well be an elaborately contrived hoax.” Aramis gently grasped her arms as he spoke.

“Now look who doesn’t want to see the truth,” she murmured and then lifted her head, challenging. “If you are so worried about me, then come with me.” She offered them the challenge.

“To the future?” D’Artagnan queried, skeptical and curious at the same time.

“That would be my assumption,” Laurel quipped more to hide her own nervousness than anything else. Sometimes she wanted to throw their overprotectiveness back in their faces.

 

 


 

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