With Arthur stranded on the Saracen space station, promising Lancelot to get the teleporter temporarily rated for humans within five minutes had got Nimue access to exactly the equipment she needed. Even this century's Camelot sensor equipment should be able to track tachyons well enough for Nimue's purpose, with a little work. And redirect them ...
"What are you doing?" Guenevere demanded, watching Nimue work.
"Cross-circuiting the resolution wave," Nimue lied. She'd have one shot at putting things to rights, analyzing the ambient time field and then attempting to restore it; unfortunately that would probably not leave enough time for actually making the adjustment to rescue Arthur from the Saracen space station. Nimue would try, of course, but - assuming Nimue's fix took, which given the extent of the problem wasn't guaranteed - these events might end up not having happened.
"French science officers," Guenevere grumbled. "Foreign ship's doctors. ... Stowaway teleporter engineers."
There had to be an artificial time field overlay, but Nimue couldn't just assume there was, despite the overwhelming evidence. She finished rewiring the plasmic scanners. Here came the tachyon readings ...
"Ship was supposed to be a British ship," Guenevere went on.
What abysmal processing time! Finally. Was there a time field overlay? ... Yes!
No!
There were two!
"Not that I got anything against foreigners - but a woman's got to solo sometime."
And the second overlay was redirecting the time field - with a palortic wave!
"How else does anyone get to see we're worth having as an equal partner?" Guenevere concluded. "Hey," she yelped as Nimue ripped out her makeshift tachyon converter, "you know what you're doing?"
"Your king will be fine," promised Nimue. Now that she wasn't going to be jury-rigging a reversion wave - because there was one already there! - she'd have time to upgrade the teleporter after all ...