The Cosmic Ark

by Keith Robinson

  Liam’s mouth fell open. So there it was—the last piece of the jigsaw falling into place.

  Ant’s mouth fell open too, but for a different reason. “You want us to watch you sleep?”

  “Well, not really watch,” Madison said, frowning. “That would be a little creepy. But . . . just maybe keep watch and start filming if I sleep write.”

  “All night?”

  She pursed her lips. “Not all night, no. For starters, you won’t be able to sneak into my room until the parents are asleep, which is going to be well after midnight at this rate. And secondly, I’m fairly certain most of the sleep writing is done an hour or two after I fall asleep.”

  “How do you know?” Liam asked.

  She reddened. “Because sometimes I have to get up and use the bathroom, and if there’s a message, that’s when I find it.”

  “Okay,” Ant said, nodding. “So we just need to stay awake a couple of hours.”

  “And watch you,” Liam said, narrowing his eyes and grinning. He hunched over and looked around shiftily, rubbing his hands together. “Watch you while you sleep.”

  “Stop that,” she ordered. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  Chapter 8

  As Madison had predicted, it was well after midnight by the time the dads emerged from the garage, trying to keep their booming voices low. They leaned over the sofa, and Liam feigned sleep, wishing they’d hurry up and go away.

  They did so, whispering goodnight to each other. After another five minutes of small noises—mostly shuffling around in bathrooms—the small glows from the guest room downstairs and the master bedroom upstairs clicked off and all fell silent.

  “About time,” Ant murmured from the floor.

  “I hope Maddy hasn’t fallen asleep already and written a message,” Liam said.

  Ant rolled up his sleeping bag and paused when he realized Liam was watching him. “What? It’s cold. If we’re going to sit up for two hours on watch, I want to be warm.”

  Liam nodded and said nothing.

  They crept upstairs and tiptoed past the master bedroom, then past Cody’s den to the end where it said BY INVITATION ONLY on the door. Liam liked that. It hinted at Madison’s interest in vampires.

  “Can’t believe we’re doing this,” he whispered. “Should we knock?”

  “You’ll wake everyone if you do,” Ant warned.

  Instead, Liam jiggled the handle a little more than necessary as he pushed the door open, and took his time entering. The room was, not surprisingly, in darkness. He edged into the room, seeing a queen-sized bed pushed into the left corner, enormous posters on the walls of figures he couldn’t quite make out, a dresser on the right near the window, and an armchair in the corner behind him.

  It was a small but neat room as far as he could tell in the gloom. Moonlight slanted through the window; the curtains were open, so either she’d done that so the boys could see better, or she just liked it that way. Madison herself, bundled up in bed, was just a shapeless lump under her thick quilt cover, her black hair plastered across a white pillow. A notepad lay next to her.

  Ant took up a spot near the wall and climbed into his sleeping bag.

  Just as I expected, Liam thought. He discovered a blanket folded neatly on the armchair behind him. He thought about sitting in the chair but found that it was old and creaked quite badly, so he migrated to the floor and lay down on his side.

  “Phones on standby,” Ant whispered. He had his out, ready to switch on and film if Madison stirred.

  “Are you settled?” Madison said softly, making Liam jump.

  “Uh—yeah,” he said.

  “Good. I’ve been struggling to stay awake in case you miss it. See you in the morning.”

  Liam and Ant whispered their goodnights, and all went quiet.

  The clock on her bedside table read 12:56 AM. Liam remembered that it had read 2:05 AM when he’d shown up here in ghost form, so there was over an hour to go. He tried to recall whether he’d seen a message on Madison’s notepad at that time. He didn’t think so—which meant the next hour would be uneventful.

  He thought about setting an alarm for 2:00 AM but was afraid it would wake Madison, which would defeat the purpose of the stakeout. He resolved to stay awake instead.

  And as he drifted off, he realized he’d already foreseen that he and Ant would be sound asleep by the time 2:05 AM came around. Unless he actively changed the future, there was no way for him to witness his own ghostly appearance.

  If there was any sleep writing going on, he would probably miss that too.

  ****

  He dreamed about dropping his phone. He clutched at it, feeling it slip from his grasp. Or was someone trying to take it from him?

  He jerked awake and lay there blinking in darkness. Where was he? Why was his bed so uncomfortable?

  Then he remembered, and he bolted upright with a gasp. Madison’s clock read 2:06 AM. Liam had literally just missed his ghostly appearance, or lack thereof. As it happened, it was probably his astral self that had stirred him.

  Wide awake, he crawled over to the bed and peered at the notepad on Madison’s pillow. It was blank. A pencil lay next to it.

  Her face was half buried in the pillow, her hair tumbling everywhere, the quilt pulled all the way up over her shoulder. Sound asleep with quiet, shallow breaths.

  Behind him, Ant had a nose whistle. Liam crawled back to his position on the floor and sat cross-legged, wondering how long to keep watch. Until 3:00 AM, maybe?

  His eyelids felt heavy already. He sighed, deciding that a career as a private detective was out of the question. The stakeouts would ruin him.

  Madison stirred. He blinked awake again as she fumbled. It took a moment for Liam to realize that she was simply trying to free her hand from the cover, and when she did, her fingers reached out, feeling for something.

  The pencil.

  Stunned, Liam stared with his mouth hanging open. She picked up the pencil and, apparently sound asleep, began to scrawl on the notepad, one awkward, clumsy letter at a time.

  Liam shook himself into action. Quietly, he snatched up his phone and thumbed it on, crawling closer as he did so. The screen lit up bright, and he activated the camera.

  It was too dark for such a rudimentary device, and the screen showed nothing but grainy black. He reached for the bedside lamp, hoping the blinding light wouldn’t wake her. Just to be safe, he pulled the lamp down onto the floor, stretching the cord as far as it would go, so that he could shield the light somewhat and shine it on her gradually.

  By the time he’d done all that and started recording, she’d finished writing the first word and part of the next. He stared in amazement.

  Liam, th

  Frozen to the spot, he watched as the next letter formed. And the next. And the next.

  Liam, this one is for you.

  Shaking, he lowered the camera.

  Madison was still sound asleep. She might be playing a prank on him, and if so, it was a good one. But her eyes were tight shut, and the position of her notepad, the way she clutched the pencil, suggested she’d never be able to see what she was writing even if she were fully awake.

  He watched her closely anyway, looking for signs of lucidity, a smirk, something. Her breathing was still shallow. Only her hand moved, as if being controlled by some external force.

  More of the message appeared. Madison had even started a new line.

  Liam, this one is for you.

  Visit the futu

  The hand started on the next letter, though Liam knew it would be an ‘r’ followed by an ‘e.’ Visit the future? Why? When?

  During the next minute, Madison finished the message and her hand suddenly relaxed. She still clutched the pencil, but her fingers were limp and it teetered to one side. Whatever had possessed her was gone.

  Liam, this one is for you.

  Visit the future. Your death. See me there.

  Don’t tell the others.

  ****r />
  Liam slipped out of the Parkers’ house and across to his own, taking the shortcut through the gate in the hedge. He was shivering not because of the cool night air but through nervous anticipation. Seeing his own death was not something he wanted for himself, but how could he not after a message like that?

  He’d quietly torn the message from Madison’s notepad and stuffed it in his pocket. As far as she and Ant knew, nothing had happened.

  The front door was locked, but the back doorframe was damaged and its door hung ajar. Liam squeezed through and headed down the hall to his room. The house felt strange, being so empty, especially with the starry night shining through the ceiling in places. Rain wasn’t predicted for a few days. Tomorrow the contractors had promised to come out and start prepping for work, and at the very least throw a tarpaulin across the roof.

  Liam dug around in his bottom drawer and found his time wand. Then he headed to the garage and pulled Ant’s portable generator out from behind the gardening tools. He yanked on the pull-cord and fired it up.

  For a moment he fretted over the amplified noise in the darkness of the garage, but he doubted it would wake anybody next door. He set up the generator on the workbench, laid out the cords, and touched the bottom end of the wand to the positive terminal.

  The wand lit up blue, and the dial slowly turned to its startup position. Liam twisted it all the way to the very end, resting the wand shakily against the positive terminal. When he was ‘gone,’ his arm would probably relax a little, and resting it on the terminal like this would ensure an uninterrupted visit until he was ready to come back.

  With dread, he clicked the greenlit button.

  Instantly he found himself in a place of quiet. A bedroom. He frowned, recognizing it. This was the Parkers’ guest bedroom next door. He’d glimpsed it just a few hours ago during a quick tour of the newly furnished house.

  By the bed, a woman sat on a chair with her back to him. Her grey hair was pulled up in a bun inside a hairnet. She wore a dressing gown though it was daytime. Liam peered out the window, seeing that the sun was still low in the east. Early morning.

  He drifted into the room, edging around the woman until he saw an old man lying in the bed. He sucked in a breath. Though the man was wrinkled and completely unrecognizable, Liam knew this must be him, his future self. He’d just died in his sleep.

  Seeing himself like this didn’t affect him the way he’d expected—no revulsion, just sadness. Probably the manner of his death helped. He looked so peaceful. The old woman was clutching his right hand in both of hers, and tears flowed down her cheeks. The covers on her side of the bed were tossed aside as though she’d got up in a hurry—probably because her husband was gasping for his last breath.

  Liam’s head spun. Husband? If this old man was him, then the old woman was his future wife.

  She stiffened as if sensing his sudden scrutiny. “Are you there?” she whispered, looking around. “Have you come?”

  Unable to speak, Liam just stared and stared.

  The old woman nodded and patted her husband’s hand, then slowly, slowly climbed to her feet. She looked around the room, clearly looking for something—or someone. “Young Liam, my dear, I know you’re here. You’re here because I asked you to come.”

  Still Liam didn’t know what to say. And it wouldn’t make a difference if he did, because he was a ghost.

  The idea of being a ghost—right here, right now—struck him as oddly fitting. He’d literally just died, and now it must seem to this old woman that his soul had left his body.

  “We’ve already said our goodbyes,” she said, turning in a slow circle, trying to pick him out. “We’ve been saying our goodbyes for months. Last night was our grand farewell. Then we fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was perfect.”

  She smiled, though tears still trickled down her face.

  “I just wanted you to know, my young Liam, that we had a wonderful life together. Or you and a younger version of me will have a wonderful life together.”

  “Who . . . who are you?” Liam whispered.

  She didn’t hear. Turning, she signaled for him to follow. “Come with me. I need to show you something.”

  Chapter 9

  The old woman shuffled out of the bedroom and along the hall to the living room. It was vastly different to the room in which Liam had spent the evening watching the eleven o’clock news. The furnishings were surprisingly modern for an old couple—sparse and simple, functional, all curves. There was hardly any clutter, as though knick-knacks and ornaments were considered old fashioned eighty-odd years from now. But the biggest change was the floor. Where once had been polished hardwood boards, now there was a seamless hard material, white and a little shiny.

  She eased herself down into a rocking chair, then looked around and gestured for him to sit. He did so, sinking through the sofa a little. Even so, the cushions depressed very slightly under his near weightlessness, and the old woman’s eyes opened wider. She smiled and nodded.

  “Well, now I know where you’re sitting. Good.” Her mood changed, her smile slipping. “Now pay attention. This is important. I don’t know what will happen if we mess things up. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.”

  She leaned sideways. On the small coffee table to her side was a stack of journals, maybe a dozen of them. The one on top was the most ancient. Next to the stack was what looked like a dull, silver-colored pen.

  Liam gasped. It was his time wand.

  “You and I have had a lifetime of adventures, young Liam. You, me, and Ant. Wonderful adventures. Dangerous, yes, and often scary. Many times we wondered how we were going to get out of a scrape, but of course we always did. Ant, too. We probably would have run away from danger a lot more than we did if we hadn’t known that we would live to a ripe old age.”

  Her words were only half registering. He’d gotten stuck on one particular thing she’d said: You, me, and Ant.

  “M-Maddy?” he said. “Maddy, is that . . . is that you?”

  When he next looked into her eyes, he saw that she was indeed his new neighbor, friend, and yes, his crush. As wrinkled and old as she was, there was no doubt this was her. Madison was Liam’s future wife.

  “It must be shocking for you to see the manner of your death,” she said, “but I brought you here simply because your death is a good one—peaceful and in your sleep.” She smiled, tears welling up again. “Is there such a thing as a good death? Of course there is. We all must die someday, and what better way to go than in our sleep after a long, wonderful life of happiness, adventure, and love?”

  Liam closed his hands over his ears. Unfortunately, his hands were as insubstantial as his body and he continued to hear everything Old Madison said.

  “The funny thing about time is that it can’t be changed. You’ve now seen your death, young Liam, and you can’t ever forget it. So now you’ll go forward with your life knowing you’ll live to the age of—” She pursed her lips. “Well, let’s say eighty or more, shall we? Which means no matter what happens to you, no matter what danger you end up in, you’ll know you won’t die a horrible, painful death. You’ll never suffer the burden of fearing for your life.”

  This gave Liam pause.

  “And since you’re here now, listening to me while your poor old body lies at rest in the next room, you know that I’ll outlive you and will be by your side throughout your life.”

  She picked up the time wand and gazed at it.

  Liam swallowed. Forgetting that she couldn’t hear him, he whispered, “And . . . what about Ant?”

  After a long silence, she sighed and put the wand down again. “I remember the day the great yellow storm cloud came and tore up the roof, and you stayed the night here. Right here in this living room. The next morning you were all out of sorts like you knew a great secret. Ant and I pestered you about it, but you wouldn’t relent, and I was quite put out.”

  She tried to focus on the place Liam sat. She had only the slightly flattened c
ushion to go by.

  “Whatever you do, young Liam, please don’t tell me about this visit. Keep it to yourself. Be unrelenting and annoying.” She smiled. “I promise that my younger self will get over it. You see, if you go back and tell me about this one-sided conversation I’m having right now, and if time can be changed somehow, then the life I remember might end up . . . different. I don’t want to risk that.”

  Liam struggled to get his head around the idea of changing her memories.

  Meanwhile, she reached for the first journal and brought it up onto her lap. She flipped through several pages, then smoothed out the aged, yellow paper. “I started going through these old journals. This is is the first. Volume One, you might say. I spent much of my life sleep writing, never understanding where I was getting the information from but grateful for it anyway. All those messages I wrote in my sleep formed the basis of our adventures together.”

  Liam waited, knowing she was getting to something important.

  “It wasn’t until you—that is, my dear husband—dug up the time wand from the backyard that I had a revelation. You buried it, you see, right after the yellow cloud incident. Ant and I forgot all about it, but you . . .” She shook her head. “When you started getting ill, you realized your time on this world was nearly done. You dug up the time wand one morning and brought it inside. Oh, the memories! We spent a few weeks zipping into the past and revisiting our adventures, spying on ourselves. Far better than photographs.”

  “I buried it?” Liam repeated. “Wait—so I’m going to bury it? When I get back to my time?”

  Once again she ignored him. “A few days ago you told me what I needed to do. You’ve always known, you sly old dog.” She frowned. “Or sly young dog. This time-twisting thing is confusing, isn’t it?”

  “You’re telling me!” Liam couldn’t help voicing his thoughts even though she was essentially alone in the room. She would tell him at her own pace what she wanted him to know.

  “One thing I figured out that you never could,” she said, “is how to manipulate the real world while in ghost form. I’ve become quite adept at it.”