Portals in Time 1

by Michael Beals

  Kat could feel a tingling sensation in her spine, the kind of tingling she often got when something exciting was about to happen. She knew what was causing it. If they stood any chance of finding the Honcho, she would have to go back to Earth herself. Pernass wouldn’t like it, but what choice did he have? They were hot on the Honcho’s trail now, and if they were right about how he was hiding his wealth, there was only one way to find him.

  Deciding there was no point revisiting the ranch, they headed back to the airfield. The DC-3 belonging to Harris Tours was gone, and their plane was lined up on the runway, so they made their way over to it.

  “We’re not saying goodbye to Major McInnes?” Giselle asked as they boarded the plane and settled into their seats.

  “Are you serious?” Kat exclaimed. “The man tried to have us killed. We paid our hotel bill… which I thought was extortionate,” she added.

  “Weren’t we supposed to pay for the helicopter fuel?”

  “For God’s sake, Ellie, stop nit-picking. Who cares if we used his fuel. The guy’s got more money than Croesus. I’m more concerned about where we go from here.”

  She watched through the window as the DC-3 raced down the runway and became airborne. As well as being excited at the thought of going back to Earth, she was also worried. If Pernass agreed, she would be using an artifact to go back to New York City in the mid-1800s. That, in itself, was fine; the whole idea was thrilling, but Pernass wouldn’t dream of letting her go alone. He’d be too afraid that she wouldn’t come back. He would insist that Giselle went with her, which would leave Dore on his own. Giselle deserved a break. She’d been dying to go back to Earth for a very long time, so it wasn’t as if it was a bad idea, but she couldn’t leave Dore behind.

  “Jock, can I talk to you about something?”

  “Aye, Lass. What’s on your mind?”

  “I may have to go back to Earth, and I may have to take Giselle with me. I’d prefer it if you came as well; I mean, we are partners, but Pernass might object. Can you think of an argument I can give him?”

  He gazed at her for a moment, scratching the stubble on his neck. After some thought, he raised his bushy eyebrows. “Actually, I can think of a few reasons.”

  “You can?”

  “Aye, and they’re pretty obvious. If by some miracle you find the Honcho, you could be in serious danger.”

  “What sort of danger?”

  “Well, put yourself in the Honcho’s shoes. He must suspect that people are looking for him, so he’ll be prepared. If he’s clever enough to have his own artifact so that he can zap back and forth between the two dimensions, he’ll almost certainly have one of those glass-barreled guns that erase people. You won’t be safe, Kat. If he manages to kill you, you’ll literally cease to exist. Even Hades won’t be able to bring you back.”

  “Jock, that’s a horrible thought.”

  “Aye, it is, so if you get on with Hades so well, you should talk to him. Do some kind of deal with him.”

  She laughed. “Do a deal with the Devil? Sounds like a cliché. Why would he feel obliged to agree to anything?”

  “Because you’ve got nothing to gain by looking for this Honcho character, and everything to lose. If I were in your shoes, I’d be asking for time out, like a month's holiday… and with all your bits and pieces in place. Don’t forget, if he really does have meetings with God, he’s got to justify all these escapes.”

  She mulled it over in her mind, gazing down at the passing landscape as all the pieces fell into place. Dore was right, it was a significant risk to go looking for the Honcho, and she could very easily be killed. It would be safer to hang around in Hell and wait to be reincarnated. It would mean flying to the island again, but that was okay. She’d get to see the horses and Persephone. But for now, she needed to discuss it with Pernass, and he wasn’t likely to make it easy for her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  K at watched Pernass with a degree of amusement. Instead of shouting at her, which she’d fully expected, he was muttering to himself and paced back and forth like an expectant father. To her surprise, he’d offered no real objection to her going back to Earth, although, as she’d suspected, he wanted Giselle to accompany her. Even Dore wasn’t an issue once her stepfather had got used to the idea. Kat would, after all, need protection from someone as ruthless as the Honcho. It was the mention of a month’s holiday, complete with the perks of being a whole woman again that really threw Pernass.

  “Kat, I’m really not sure about you talking to Hades about this. It could really put a spanner in the works. I’m responsible for this little catastrophe, and I’ve promised to find your Honcho character. What if Hades says no?”

  “I’m not sure that he will. He might want to negotiate, but I doubt if he’ll flat out say no. He’s not like that.”

  “What d’you mean, he’s not like that?”

  “Have you ever met him?” Kat asked.

  “I have, and the way you talk about him, he obviously deals with the two of us differently. None-the-less, we’re talking about Hades, Kat. He’s the big boss. He’s in charge of everything.”

  Kat winced, trying to judge how far she could push Pernass. “Hades asked me to join the Elites because he knew he could trust me. But why shouldn’t I get some type of payment? I’m already dead, so I’ll be seriously risking my existence if I find this Honcho character, and he has a glass-barreled gun. It was bad enough fighting the Demons at West Fork, and they only had regular .45 caliber cowboy guns... The thing is, we know what we’re looking for now. The Honcho is almost certainly living on Earth.”

  Pernass stopped pacing. “You have a theory, Kat, and that’s all it is, a theory.”

  “Yeah, but it’s the best theory anyone’s come up with, and if you send me on a scouting trip, I could probably add a little meat to it.”

  Pernass squinted at her, and for just a moment, she saw the old Oberführer Pernass, that foxy, and quick-witted German Officer who’d almost outwitted Hitler. “A scouting trip? What… scouting trip?”

  She shrugged and gave him a friendly smile. “Father, it’s nothing, just a few hours on Earth. I need to get the lay of the land. I was thinking of in the mid-1800s. If I go on my own, and just look around, I’ll have an idea of what happens to these people. So, are you okay about me going on a scout?”

  “I guess. But I think your holiday request is pushing your luck.” Taking a long toke on his cigar, he blew a plume of smoke towards the ceiling. “Go and see the Gypsies Kat. The chief regulator’s name is Stan Harper. We’ll talk more about your holiday when you come back.”

  As they made their way back up 42nd Street, Kat began to have misgivings. She would see the Gypsies without Hades’ agreement, and despite her stepfather being the Elite Police Commissioner, it was Hades’ consent she really needed. It was him, after all, who put her in this position. She needed to talk to Persephone, but without visiting the palace, she had no way of contacting her.

  She turned to look at Giselle, who was walking so close to Dore, they could have been holding hands. “Will you two behave yourselves?”

  “What?” Giselle exclaimed.

  “You’re like a couple of teenagers, and I need to talk to you.”

  Giselle flushed and quickened her step. “I’m all ears.”

  “I’m worried about seeing the Gypsies tomorrow. It feels as if I’m going behind Hades’ back. As it is, we’ve already shot up five of his demons.”

  “That won’t bother Haddy. You’re doing exactly what he asked you to do.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a matter of trust. I was going to hit Hades with the holiday idea when I was closer to finding the Honcho, but by then, I’ll already have gone back to Earth without his permission. It just feels a bit dishonest.”

  “You're being super-sensitive, Kat. Pernass knows about it. It’s not like you’re going behind the Commissioner’s back, and I’ll always vouch for you. I’ve known Haddy and Seph for years.”

  “I kno
w you have, but that’s the other thing, this holiday is for you as well. It could look as if we’re all conspiring.”

  Giselle looked at her in shock. “I’m part of your holiday?”

  “Of course you are. So’s Jock. You think I want to go on holiday on my own?”

  “Kat, you’ve already got enough on your plate, and I’m sure Haddy knows that. Let’s go, and see the Gypsies tomorrow, and find out how artifacts work, then we can visit the palace.”

  “But that’s exactly what I can’t do. I need to do my scout before I go to the palace. I don’t know what it was like in the mid-1800s, or how easy it will be to find the Honcho. I need to be sure of my facts.”

  They passed Harry’s Diner. It was full of weary-looking demons having a coffee on their way home from the office.

  “Giselle, if you wouldn’t mind staying with us tonight, we could all leave together tomorrow for the Gypsy headquarters.”

  Giselle brightened. “Great! I wouldn’t mind. I’ve got used to us being together.”

  The Gypsy headquarters was a stone’s throw from Orleans, Massachusetts on the Cape Cod peninsula. It was an old, timbered building in the curve of Cape Cod Bay. Seagulls wheeled overhead, and a chill wind was blowing in from the east. Kat shivered as she climbed out of the helicopter and ran at a crouch to get clear of the rotors. She’d never imagined it being so cold in Hell. They’d landed at the helicopter pad belonging to the Gypsy headquarters, and she could see the building from where they stood. With its quaint little balconies and shuttered windows, it was a picturesque old building and reminded her of an Austrian chalet hotel.

  “Is someone meeting us?” Dore asked, clutching his collar in the wind.

  Kat was about to reply when she saw a bespectacled, elderly man walking towards them. He was somewhere in his seventies, sported a short, pointed beard, and Colonel Custer hair, and was wearing what looked like an army greatcoat.

  “Welcome to the RGH!” he called when he was a few yards away. “I’m Stan Harper.”

  “We’re honored you’ve come to meet us,” Kat said. “Aren’t you the Chief Regulator?”

  “I am indeed, but we don’t bother with titles here. Follow me. It’s a lot warmer inside.”

  They followed Harper down a winding footpath, across an immaculate gravel forecourt, and through a pair of newly varnished doors, their brass fittings gleaming in the morning sunshine.

  “You’re situated in a lovely part of the world,” Kat said, as Harper ushered them into what appeared to be a rustic living room. A cheerful fire was crackling in a large fireplace, paintings of ancient seaports and clipper ships decorated the timber walls, and the sea was visible through the windows. It was the most welcoming room Kat had been in for a long time.

  “Yes,” Harper replied. “We’re fortunate. It used to be Hades’ home away from home when he lived in New York City. We took it over when he moved to the island. We’ve been here ever since.”

  “And these are your headquarters?”

  “They are indeed. Don’t be fooled by this room. The building is deceptively large. Two hundred people work here.” Throwing another log on the fire, he turned to face them. “So, what can I do for you? The Commissioner said you needed our help.”

  Plumping into one of the upholstered chairs, Kat waited until Harper removed his coat then said, “We need an artifact, Mr. Harper.”

  Kat explained why she needed the artifact, and what had happened in West Fork. Then she explained what she thought the Honcho was up to. Her theory was, the Honcho was stealing artifacts, selling them to people who want to escape, taking the money and buying gold, then shipping the gold to Earth. Kat explained that if they could go back to the mid-1800s, they might be able to find him and stop all the escapes and shut down his business.

  Harper eased himself into one of the chairs, and for a moment, seemed to think about it. Eventually, he said, “Hmm. That’s very clever. However, has it ever occurred to you that he might not be stealing artifacts?”

  “Then… how would he get them?”

  Harper cocked his head. “He might be manufacturing them.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kat said, shaking her head. “If he can make the damn things, why is he bothering selling them to dead people in Hell for a pittance, when he could sell the artifact as a teleportation devise to the living and become the richest human of all time?”

  Harper smiled, holding back laughter. “Let’s see… you’re dead, you’ve escaped from Hell, and Satan, God of the underworld, has sent an assassin to erase you from existence… Wouldn’t you think you would want to keep a very low profile on Earth?”

  “I apologize Mr. Harper. Sometimes I’m gormless.”

  Harper shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I think I know who your Honcho is.”

  “Mr. Harper, that’s wonderful news. Please, tell me what you know.”

  Harper let out a long sigh. “A few years ago, before any of this started, a Gypsy shaman called Henry Grantham disappeared. We all thought he’d disappeared into the past, but what if he escaped into the future? What if he’s been busy making artifacts, and then shipping them back to the present? Hades isn’t allowed to go into the future, nor is Persephone; the big boss won’t let them. This would leave Grantham free to do anything he wanted.”

  Harper leaned back in his chair and continued. “Grantham will come back eventually, and he’ll come back with a bang. He was something of a genius. He was into all kinds of creepy shit.”

  She stared at Harper. “So you think our Honcho is really your shaman?”

  “It seems likely.”

  “Holy crap! So are we snookered? Is Grantham unreachable?”

  “Not necessarily. I think you’re right. If he is using gold as a stable currency, the safest point in history where he could convert it into untraceable money would be the mid-1800s. Any earlier than that and day-to-day life wouldn’t be so comfortable. Any later than, say the twenty-first century, he’d be plagued by the computerized banking system.”

  “Computerized? What does that mean?”

  “You’ve just come out of 1948, so it’s very hard to explain. Technology will change dramatically in the next fifty years.”

  Giselle began to wander the room, frowning as if something was bothering her. She gazed at the paintings, but not studying them. It was more for something to distract herself. Eventually, she sat down in a chair next to Kat, chewing her lips, and playing with her fingers.

  Kat glanced at her. “What’s wrong, Ellie?”

  “I was just wondering. Mr. Harper, do we have to be near a specific portal when we travel back to Earth?”

  “For the best results in transporting large groups of people, you need to be near a portal. With smaller groups or individuals, you can do it almost anywhere, only with less precise accuracy.”

  “So could Quiggly’s Gulch be in the middle of a portal?”

  “If so many escapees are disappearing from there, it’s the only explanation. How far is the old gold mine from Quiggly’s Gulch?”

  “Well, I’d be guessing; we flew there by helicopter, but I’d say five or six miles.”

  “They probably use the ranch because it’s less scary. It can be quite disorienting going back in time. We do it all the time, but when you first do it, it’s like jumping off a mountain.”

  Kat frowned. “Sounds like skydiving. I did it a few times, never did like it.”

  “You’ll get used to it. A word of warning, if you’re going to go looking for Grantham in the mid-1800s, wear era and seasonally appropriate clothing, and take money with you for that period. It’s not difficult to program the period you’re going to, but if you make a mistake and enter the wrong date or time, just hit Return and try again.”

  At that moment, the door opened, and a young man in white overalls entered the room. “Sorry to interrupt. It’s all set up.”

  Harper raised his eyebrows. “That was quick. Thank you, Harry.” Clasping his hands together, he
stood. “Well, if you’re all ready for this, I can show you an artifact. Follow me. It’s in a different part of the building.”

  Leaving the comfortable living room with its crackling log fire, they followed Harper down a long corridor, turned right into another corridor that smelled faintly of plastic, and then down a wide hallway. When they reached the far end, Harper pressed a button on the wall, and two doors that had previously been invisible slid to one side. It was an elevator.

  When they had all stepped inside, and the doors closed, he said, “We’re going down a long way, so don’t freak out.”

  Harper pressed a button on the keypad, and Kat felt butterflies in her stomach as the elevator descended at an alarming speed, seeming to travel for more than a minute before it finally lurched to a stop. When the doors opened, they stepped into an enormous, brightly lit room. Rows of polished metal workbenches stretched into the distance, and groups of people clustered around what looked like TV screens, except that the displays contained numbers that constantly changed, eliciting murmurs of approval.

  “This is our laboratory,” Harper said, ushering them over to one of the many workbenches. “We keep it down here for security reasons. We’re not going to activate an artifact today. I just want to show you how they work.”

  Kat peered at the cluttered workbench, littered with electronic instruments, and what looked like jeweler’s tools.

  “This,” Harper said, picking up a small rectangular device and handing it to Kat, “is a Mk 6, third-generation artifact.”

  Kat peered at the device. It looked as if it was made of plastic and gleamed in the fluorescent lighting. It was the size of a large wallet, had what looked like a tiny screen with a series of buttons embedded in its surface. Hieroglyphic symbols had been etched into the surface of the buttons, and she tensed when Harper reached across and pressed one of them. When the screen suddenly lit up, she almost dropped it.