“It would seem that our once great nation is doomed,” opined Postlethwait, his bespectacled eyes scanning the bank of monitors for some small sign of hope. “Moscow is razed, Washington aflame, Europe reduced to a radioactive wasteland and the Orient… well, let us not dwell on the fate of those poor, unfortunate fellows.”
   Caruthers stepped forward, a sombre expression hewn upon his ashen features. “Is there nothing that can be done? Is the whole of humanity to be crushed beneath the heel of this hellspawn?
   Professor Postlethwait raised a hand to his face, combing his greying handlebar moustache with finger and thumb. “I fear there remains but one course of action left open to us. We must employ the temporal claw that we might raise an army against these creatures.”
   “Are you absolutely certain, Oswald? I know that we have worked tirelessly and meticulously towards this day, but, the claw! It remains as yet -”
   “You would have us take it for a test drive, at this late hour? No, my friend, time is not on our side. And yet, time is all that we have!” The professor reached into his pocket and retrieved a flash drive which he passed to his young assistant. “This contains all of the temporal coordinates I was able to retrieve at such short notice. If we are to test the device, then there is no time like the present. I shall be in the main hall awaiting the arrival of our guests. Please escort them to me as soon as they have been assembled. There is not a minute to waste.”
   “How far back have you managed to go?” Caruthers asked.
   “The fifteenth century.”
   “The fifteenth! But what of Boadecia, Alfred and -”
   “We shall simply have to make do without them, James.”

                               
                    ******

   A little shy of five hours later, the walls of the institute’s vast assembly hall were vibrating with the sound of nervous anticipation.
   Standing with his back to the window, Professor Postlethwait raised his right hand to call for silence. The enemy had at last arrived and, behind him, the evening sky was a brilliant, fiery red. “Friends, countrymen and countrywomen, Great Britons, may I have your undivided attention for a few moments.”
   The throng fell instantly into silence and the professor gestured towards the window. “My apologies for having brought you here at this ungodly hour but, as you can clearly see behind me, the devil himself is at the door.”
   Prior to speaking, Shakespeare coughed quietly to clear his throat. “What light through yonder window breaks? It is from the east! Can it be the sun?”
   “Yes, what is this terrible light that is thrown upon man?” asked Charles Darwin.
   “Aliens,” replied the Professor.
   “The foul Spaniards!” exclaimed Drake, reaching to his scabbard.
   “Would that it were. No, these are invaders from beyond the stars, the like of which our world has never seen.”
   “Had I not witnessed this with my own two eyes, I would not have believed that the world of man could be subdued,” muttered Herbert Wells. “Who can know for certain how long these creatures have watched us from across the gulf of space, gazing down upon us with envious eyes as we busied ourselves about our various little concerns and affairs, serene in our assurances of empire over matter. They will no doubt have studied our world as a man with a microscope might scrutinise the creatures that swarm in a drop of water. These alien creatures are most assuredly intelligences far greater than that of man.”
   “And now, all the youth of England are on fire?” enquired Henry V as he strode purposefully towards the window.
   “Not all,” replied professor Postlethwait. “We few, we gallant few yet remain to fight the good fight in the name of Britannia.”
   A youthful Queen Victoria stared caustically at the scene beyond the glass. “I am far from amused by these events. The Queen is most anxious to enlist everyone in checking this mad, wicked folly.”
   Horatio Nelson offered a reassuring smile. “Fear not, your highness, desperate affairs require desperate measures. England expects that every man assembled here will do his duty.”
   “Indeed, have no fear, ma’am, each of us will play his part,” said an emphatic Winston Churchill. “And never in the field of human conflict will so much be owed by so many to so few.”
   “The enemy lies just beyond the brow and the art of war consists of getting at whatever is on the other side of a hill,” suggested Arthur Wellesley with supreme confidence. “I have often said that the only thing I fear is fear itself. I know not what effect the men gathered here will have upon these aliens, but, by God, they frighten me.”
   Sir Francis Drake fingered his beard and looked towards the horizon; the sky now had the appearance of a raging inferno. “From whence the beast?”
   “We do not know,” replied Postlethwait. “We have had no communication from the creatures.” He indicated the bank of monitors, a few of which continued to display scenes of chaos and destruction. However, the majority either flashed with static or were black. Dead. “They landed five days ago. We received little warning. There was no declaration of war, no opportunity afforded for parley. They have simply moved from country to country destroying everything in their path.”
   Wells averted his gaze. “It is systematic genocide of the human race.”
   “Indeed.”
   “To what end?” asked Captain Scott.
   “We can but speculate,” replied Caruthers. “After all, what is it that drives any nation to trample upon another?”
   “The very fact that it can,” suggested Queen Elizabeth I, raising an eyebrow.
   “Much might be wrested from a sure defeat,” offered Thomas Lawrence nonchalantly.
   “We are not interested in the possibilities of defeat. They do not exist,” bellowed Queen Victoria.
   “Be not too harsh on the fellow, sweet Queen,” whispered King Henry. “Men of few words are the best men.”
   “He fears a rout, ma'am. The hardest thing of all, for a soldier, is to retreat,” offered Wellesley. “And yet, there in nothing more melancholy as a battle won.”
   Suddenly a war-machine appeared on the skyline, funnels belching thick smoke as it strode across the fields towards the institute. A monstrous quadruped higher than the tallest building, its black metallic hull was in stark contrast to the blanket of snow that lay white and crisp upon the land.
   Raising itself to its full height, the machine flourished its heat weapon high in the air. With a deafening roar, the heat ray swept across the institute’s outer wall incinerating concrete, steel and many of those inside. Peering through the remains of the window, Charles Chaplin observed the war-machine in silence. Once more the terrifying weapon was flourished and the invisible heat ray leapt from Raleigh to Newton to Cook. There was a dazzling flare as each of them ignited.
   “Well this is a bloody rum deal!” exclaimed Montgomery as he, too, was incinerated.
   Horatio Nelson drew his sword and turned to rally the remaining Britons. “I have yet my legs and one arm! Let me at these foul creatures, for I shall not, if I am in the field of glory, be kept out of sight.”
   “When the blast of war blows in our ears, then shall we imitate the tiger,” declared Henry V. “Let us stiffen the sinews and summon up the blood. Unto the breach, dear friends, that we might close up the wall with our English dead.”
   William Shakespeare stepped forward to place a hand upon the King’s shoulder. “A fine speech, noble Henry. One that I have a mind to inscribe when our work here is done.”
   “Good Lord, yes! In the excitement I had almost forgotten,” exclaimed professor Postlethwait. “James, dear friend, please escort William, Herbert and the rest of the non-combatants to the temporal chamber. Have them returned to their own time periods before it is too late. For each of them still has much to contribute to this nations glorious history. Oh, and James, go with them. Escape into the past, my friend. Save yourself.”
   “But what of you, Oswald, what shall become of you?”
   “Me? I shall stay behind and fight, fight until the bitter end. For is it not fitting that we should make our final stand here in the meadows of Runnymede, where the seal of King John was placed upon the Magna Carta?”
   “But the heat ray, Oswald, you cannot hope to -”
   “Do not concern yourself with my fate. For if I am to burn it will be with fire in my belly, here, in the ashes of our proud Empire standing shoulder to shoulder with our nations greatest heroes.”
   “Then you expect to die?”
   “Aye, ashes to ashes. Yet unlike the legendary phoenix we shall not rise up. Our kind shall not grace this isle again.”
   “Then what was it all for? I believed there was hope, that we might -”
   “Alas, this venture was always doomed to failure, as was the human race on the very first day it sat a child in front of a television set. No, this nation was never destined to be saved, I merely wished for us to go out in style,” said Oswald Postlethwait. He smiled a knowing smile, and turned to march unto the breach.