The Infinity Engines Books 1-3

by Andrew Hastie

  A steel door opened at the end of the corridor, and they heard the heavy tread of army-issue boots.

  ‘Jones, Makepiece, the founder requires your presence,’ declared an officious civil servant surrounded by a squad of guards.

  Lord Dee sat in an old leather chair in the middle of his private library. The pages of the book that rested in his lap were handwritten, and as he closed it, Josh thought he recognised the cover, even though it was aged and worn with use.

  ‘Do you know what this is?’ he asked, holding up the book to them.

  ‘The original Malefactum?’ Caitlin replied.

  If the founder was impressed, he didn’t show it.

  ‘The first book of the Djinn,’ he said, putting it on the table and standing up. ‘It has taken over a thousand years of meticulous research, and yet we still don’t completely understand what goes on within the maelstrom — nor who wrote that damned book. Daedalus remains a mystery.’

  Josh shared a knowing look with Caitlin.

  Dee walked over to the tall arched window and stared out at the blue sky. It felt like the first time Josh had seen it in weeks.

  ‘The Augurs tell me that you were inciting a level three Eschaton event. The Copernicans are demanding an excision or a redaction as a minimum sentence.’

  Josh went to speak, but the founder held up a hand to quiet him.

  ‘I’ve never been completely convinced by the theory of the Eschaton Cascade. I remember when your uncle Marcus first presented it before the council — it was ridiculed. Fortunately, the Copernicans persuaded me to commission the creation of the Augurs. Which, it seems, was somewhat prescient based on recent events. They say they have overwhelming evidence that you will bring about the end of time.’ He pointed a finger a Josh. ‘They've convinced the council to invoke an emergency confinement order.’

  ‘How did my uncle propose to avert it?’ asked Caitlin.

  ‘He didn’t, and his presentation was never concluded.’ Dee said with a sigh. ‘He was lost in the Great Breach — along with your parents.’

  ‘Couldn’t Josh and I go back and find him?’

  ‘The Protectorate inquisition has already confiscated all of his work, and they’re refusing to release it to me.’

  ‘They can’t refuse your orders!’

  ‘Oh they can,’ he said grimly. ‘Because under the confinement act we’re effectively in a state of martial law — In fact, I believe they are about to relieve me of my office.’

  ‘This sounds like they’re fulfilling the Eschaton predictions!’ Caitlin exclaimed.

  The founder grimaced. ‘The Daedalans have powerful allies — including none other than the Chief Inquisitor Eckhart herself. Ravana has been looking for a way to depose me for some time now — she’s already created an Eschaton division within the Protectorate and put her son at the head of it.’

  He turned to Josh. ‘I created this Order to protect the future of humanity, not to serve the ambitions of its leaders. They have forgotten our prime directive, and I believe you may be the only one who can restore it — assuming you’re able to escape from this particular predicament of course.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Find out who your father was. This paradox begins with him.’

  There was a knock at the door.

  ‘That will be your escort,’ the founder observed.

  ‘At least they knocked,’ added Caitlin.

  The doors opened, and Dalton walked in with a group of Protectorate officers. They were all wearing black armour, but there was something different about Dalton’s — instead of the usual Protectorate insignia of a shield, his uniform had a silver skull — like a Nazi death’s head.

  ‘Jones. You’re to be held until further notice under section two of the Eschaton Confinement Act.’

  Two officers positioned themselves either side of Josh, hands resting on their holstered sidearms.

  ‘Caitlin Makepiece, I am arresting you on suspicion of collusion with entities unknown for the purpose of disrupting the continuum.’

  Again, two officers flanked Caitlin.

  ‘Sir.’ Dalton addressed Lord Dee with disdain. ‘By order of the High Council, I hereby relieve you of your command and all duties and powers associated therewith.’

  The founder waved a hand as if to say he couldn’t care less, opened the book once more and continued reading.

  Dalton was unmoved. He turned to the rest of his detail and walked out, and they followed behind, taking Josh and Caitlin along with them.

  82

  Bedlam

  Bedlam was not a place that most people made a habit of visiting more than once. This was Josh’s third time, and it wasn’t getting any more hospitable. The seers sanctum was nothing more than a fancy name for a lunatic asylum, and Dalton had obviously taken great pleasure in picking out the worst cell he could find for Josh — Caitlin had been moved somewhere else.

  He’d thought the cold showers and the lice powder had been bad enough until they shaved his head and threw him into a dank cell.

  Josh overheard the guards talking about some kind of purge. Apparently, there was going to be a massive round up of the unbelievers. He couldn’t quite understand the details, but it sounded like they were preparing to do exactly what had happened in the Determinist reality.

  There was little in the way of daylight or comfort in his tiny cell; the bed was stuffed with damp, mouldy straw, and rats and cockroaches skittered back and forth across the wet flagstones — Josh was glad it was too dark to see. When he stretched his arms out, he could touch both walls.

  The door was oak, bound with a metal that seemed to have no past. His gaolers had been quite meticulous when they’d built the prison. The history of every component, every bolt and screw, had been redacted so that it couldn’t be used as a path of escape.

  Hours passed with nothing more than the cries of the insane to keep him awake. Josh shivered as the temperature dropped and the tiny shaft of daylight faded away. He knew this wasn’t the punishment, just a bit of morale-breaking psycho-bullshit while they prepared something even more terrible for him.

  He tried to shut out the screams and the wailing by drifting back into his memories, ones that he used to keep for the really horrible nights when his mother would squeeze his hand so tightly while moaning with the pain.

  It was his tenth birthday, and Josh could picture his mother dancing around the table to her favourite song: The way you make me feel, by Michael Jackson. She had some crazy moves, her hands waving above her head, laughing and singing like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  It was a good memory — a keeper. It reminded him that they’d been happy once, in his timeline. He wondered what she was doing now: sitting in Churchill park with her boys, playing hide and seek in the rose garden or cooking their tea. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought about what it would’ve been like to grow up in this world, with her so healthy. Anger welled up in him as he thought about all the hardships he’d endured over the years. Fate had knocked him down more than once, but it had made him stronger, and he wasn’t about to give up now.

  The founder had said it started with his father, which meant going back into his past, but Josh had no idea where to start. His mother would never speak about him — ever. The nearest he’d got to an answer was a bunch of old photos of her when she was at University before she’d had to leave to have her baby.

  The idea of going back to that time disturbed him.

  83

  Caitlin

  ‘You could save yourself,’ said Dalton, staring at Caitlin through the bars of her cell.

  She sat on the bed of straw weaving the sheaves together. ‘My mother taught me to do this.’ She held up the straw man. ‘It’s one of my earliest memories of her.’

  ‘Are you listening to me?’ he snapped. ‘They’re going to crucify you. There’s talk of using you and him as breach fodder.’

  ‘I think I’ve spent long enough following your orders.’ />
  ‘You didn’t use to mind. Why the sudden change of heart?’

  ‘Because I know who I’m supposed to be now.’

  His mouth stretched into a sardonic grin. ‘Really? Did Jones show you the light?’ There was something disgusting about the way he thrust his hips against the cage.

  Caitlin put the straw doll down and walked over to the bars. ‘I was thirteen when grandfather died, and you were supposed to care of me. Not use me as some kind of slave.’

  ‘Poor KitKat, did life give you a hard time?’ He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. ‘Fate’s a bitch. Don’t come mewling to me when the monads are chewing your face off.’

  He turned to leave.

  ‘I used to pity you after the beatings,’ Caitlin began. ‘I saw what your father used to do and I felt sorry for you. Whatever you inflicted on me was nothing compared to the damage he’s done to you. You’re a pussy compared to him — a real disappointment.’

  Dalton looked back, his eyes like dark coals, and she knew she’d hit the mark.

  ‘I was going to make you a proposition,’ Dalton said through clenched teeth. ‘For the sake of our friendship.’

  Caitlin looked unconvinced. ‘Really? I doubt that.’

  ‘What if I told you I know where your parents are,’ he said slyly.

  ‘Where they’ve always been,’ she replied.

  He looked mildly amused. ‘I mean where they really are.’ There was something about the way he phrased the question that bothered her.

  ‘Exploring the maelstrom in a timeship?’

  ‘That’s where they were,’ he grinned, ‘before we caught them trying to steal the infinity engine.’

  Now it was Caitlin’s turn to look bemused. The plan had been to borrow it, effectively blinding the Copernicans and allowing her father to use it to accurately calculate the best strategy for avoiding the Eschaton Cascade.

  Dalton relished the look of concern that flashed across her face.

  ‘Ah, were you waiting for mummy to come and rescue you?’ he asked as she picked up the straw figure. ‘Hard luck.’

  ‘Are they here?’ she shouted as he walked away. ‘In Bedlam?’

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Dalton, come back!’

  He continued down the passageway.

  ‘Come back, you arrogant dick!’ She rattled the door of the cell. It wasn’t the best she could come up with, but the insult simply bounced off him.

  84

  Torture

  Josh was strapped to some kind of medieval rack; his arms and legs were bound to the wooden frame and stretched to the point that was just beyond uncomfortable.

  Dalton paced around the room, while his minions laid out an array of sharp metal objects on the table in front of Josh.

  ‘That will be all,’ he ordered, inspecting the tools.

  Dalton waited until they left, then took off his leather gloves. ‘This may seem like a bit of an inquisition, but I don’t have the luxury of time; quite ironic when you think about it. The Order is now under martial law, which allows me the liberty to exercise any means necessary to ensure its security.’

  ‘Really? Are you sure you’re not just doing it for kicks?’ Josh joked. ‘Caitlin told me you were a bit of a sadist.’

  Dalton smiled. ‘Did she? It’s good to know I made such a big impression on her.’

  ‘Yeah — I’ve seen the scars.’

  Dalton ignored the remark and picked up one of the small knives from the table. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of the Talons of Torquemada?’ he asked, holding up the weapon in front of Josh’s eyes. It was a thin blade with the head of a dragon on the pommel.

  ‘Can’t say that I have.’

  ‘They are a fascinating form of punishment, crafted to inflict nerve pain by degrees. There are fifteen of them, and when used correctly by a Castillian painmaster they are supposed to inflict the torment of every one of their previous victims — loosening the tongue of the most stubborn heretics.’

  Dalton took the razor-sharp blade and pushed it slowly into Josh’s shoulder. A hot pain lanced through his arm, making him wince involuntarily — it was like being stabbed with a six-inch needle.

  ‘Damn,’ he seethed through clenched teeth. ‘I take it you’re not a master then?’

  ‘Not in the slightest, but the talons have enough latent knowledge for me to acquire. They’re quite literally telling me where to put them.’ Dalton chuckled.

  The next one went into Josh’s leg, just above the knee, and felt like someone had set fire to his foot.

  ‘So are you going to ask me a question?’ Josh spat through clenched teeth, as the third spike was inserted into his wrist.

  ‘Not yet,’ Dalton said, smiling. ‘I think this one has a special place,’ he said, holding up the strange gargoyle on the end of the handle. ‘Homunculus.’

  The pain was flooding into Josh’s brain from every nerve until Dalton put the Homunculus into the back of his neck; and then everything stopped.

  Josh took a deep breath.

  ‘Neurological block. A thing of beauty, and without doubt the most masterful stroke of genius. With this one blade, I can relieve you of all of your pain.’

  He placed two more talons into Josh’s other hand and leg then removed the Homunculus.

  Waves of new and excruciating pain wracked his body, and he felt the world fade away for a moment as if someone had turned down the lights.

  ‘So, you see, now I have your full attention,’ Dalton whispered into his ear as he placed the blade back into Josh’s neck.

  And the pain was gone.

  ‘So, tell me, Jones, what else has the lovely Caitlin told you about me.’

  ‘Don’t you want to know about the skull?’

  ‘In time, but first I want to know what that scheming bitch has told you.’

  Josh’s head was heavy, the strain on his neck becoming too much, and he let it fall forward. He tried to think of the best way to play this. Dalton was obviously obsessed with what people thought of him, and Josh could use that.

  ‘She said you were a bully, that your father beat you — so you take it out on others.’

  ‘That’s public knowledge,’ Dalton said, sneering. ‘You need to try harder than that.’ He played with the end of the talon in Josh’s neck.

  Josh thought back to the times they’d been alone. She hadn’t told him much — Dalton wasn’t something that she wanted to spend much time discussing. There’d been one thing after they had made love for the first time. Caitlin had told him that Dalton didn’t like sex, or more specifically, his penis — that he’d thought about cutting it off.

  ‘She told me you hate your dick.’

  Dalton smiled as if Josh had just given him the best Christmas present ever. ‘Thank you. Now we’re telling it how it is, we can begin.’

  Dalton hit Josh across the face. ‘You expect me to believe you’re the Nemesis? That you’ve actually been into the maelstrom?’

  Josh spat blood and raised his head to look him in the eye. ‘I am, and I have — it wasn’t pretty.’

  ‘You do realise this is heresy? I can have you excised just for speaking those words.’

  ‘Somehow, I don’t think you’re going to.’

  Dalton wiped the blood off his hands. ‘And what, out of interest, did you see in there?’

  ‘Random bits of time, a whole bunch of lost things, and the Djinn, of course, nasty bastards — then there was a crazy old man, Daedalus I think he called himself,’ Josh added with feigned ignorance.

  Dalton’s eyes widened. ‘Did this old man have a book?’

  ‘Yes,’ Josh said, nodding. ‘He called it his Book of Deadly Names.’

  ‘Liar!’ shouted Dalton. ‘Caitlin told you to say that!’ He struck him so hard that it shook the Homonculus pin out of his neck and Josh passed out from the pain.

  ‘If you’re the Nemesis,’ Dalton continued once Josh had regained consciousness, ‘then you’re supposed to
be from the future.’

  ‘Cat warned me not to discuss other eventualities.’

  ‘Indulge me,’ he said, playing with another blade. ‘What lies beyond the frontier?’

  ‘Pollution, fear, poverty, elitist overlords and of course, flying cars — someone had seriously accelerated the technology, not that it seemed to have done much good.’

  Dalton tutted and inserted another talon into Josh’s arm. ‘Anyone could’ve dreamt up that.’ He went to pull the nerve-block out again.

  ‘Wait! This timeline had been in a constant state of war since the Middle-Ages. The cities were built on the ruins of more than one nuclear strike.’

  Dalton paused. ‘Who did it?’

  ‘Politicians with too much firepower I guess?’

  ‘No, I meant who advanced the tech.’

  ‘I don’t know. Someone was messing with the continuum. I thought it might’ve been you — but you were running the Government.’

  Dalton’s eyes narrowed. ‘Was I now? What was I like?’

  Josh knew this subject would interest him even more than the missing book.

  ‘You were leading the Order, and you’d become very powerful.’ He watched Dalton’s face as the facts sunk in. This was the future he craved, and Josh could see the raw ambition in his eyes. ‘It was terrible.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The world was dying, and the Order was at war with itself; you really screwed it up.’

  Dalton reached out and pulled the Homunculus out of Josh’s neck.

  ‘You’re a heretic. Do you really think anyone cares whether you live or die?’

  Josh couldn’t speak. His teeth bit through his lip, blood poured into his mouth, and the pain was so great he passed out again.

  ‘Wake up!’ Dalton slapped him across the face.