The skeleton man came back around the corner and held his gun on the three of us until the guard woman got the door open and then stepped back, holding her gun trained evenly on us. It was very clear she was a soldier. She didn’t seem the slightest bit shaken that she had lost one of her own and killed another man. One cold woman.
“Inside,” the skeleton man ordered, his voice unable to hide a tone of disgust.
Alex led the way, followed by Marjorie and then by me. The room looked very much like Alex’s room down on E deck. There was a built-in couch and bed, one padded chair, a small table, and a dresser.
“Search them,” he said to the guard woman, “then take care of the bodies before they are discovered.”
While he held his gun steady on us, she patted us down like an expert, not missing an inch, then took short pieces of twine and tied our hands. She made mine painfully tight. So tight that I knew there was no way I could pull out. I hoped blood could get to my hands.
She pointed to the couch. I sat on the left side nearest the door. Marjorie was in the middle and Alex against the wall.
As soon as the guard woman had gone out the door, the man sat down on the bed across from the couch and looked at us. “Who are you?” he asked. His voice sounded tired, as if he was facing a task he didn’t want to face. “You first.” He pointed at Alex.
Alex shook himself and then took a deep breath. “Alex Meredith, formerly of Boston.”
“And you?” He pointed at Marjorie.
“Marjorie Thiel. I’m from Flagstaff, Arizona.”
The man’s eyes took on a shocked look of surprise which he quickly tried to mask. “And you?” He pointed at me. Now his tone was different.
“Kellogg Jones. Boise.”
This time he made no effort to conceal his surprise. He shook his head and muttered a soft “Damn.”
I wasn’t real sure I liked the fact that my name was causing a stir. It had done the same with Susan and I had no idea what it meant. I had a feeling it wasn’t good.
The skeleton man got to his feet and paced back and forth in the limited space. Up close, he looked even more like a skeleton. He was unbelievably thin and tall. His skin was pure white and his clothes hung loosely on him.
“I’m afraid to ask this,” he said after a few moments of pacing, “but who was your friend?” He made a slight gesture toward the hall.
I looked over at Marjorie. I had never known Craig’s last name.
“Craig Kendall,” she said. “I’m not sure where he was from. I never heard him say.”
For some reason, the tall man looked relieved. He went out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.
“Are you both all right?” I asked.
Marjorie nodded. “I think so. What happened?”
“Alex and Craig surprised them as we planned, but Susan spoiled things by jumping in the middle of it. The woman shot Craig and Alex hit their guy. The bullet went through him and hit Susan.”
There was a long silence in the room. I went back over the disaster in the hall. How could we have been so stupid as to think surprising them would work? We had jumped into a situation that we knew nothing about and now Craig was dead. And Susan was dead. My one hope of getting back. I pushed that thought away and turned to Marjorie. “How’d you get caught?”
She shook her head. “I was so stupid. When I heard the shots, I glanced around the corner. I saw she had Alex and was motioning for you also, so I turned and started to run. He was coming in the stern door. He just pointed his gun at me. I guess he heard the shots and figured I was in on it. If I would have not panicked and walked…or gone the other way…”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “This entire thing was a mistake. A big one. Alex, are you all right?”
Alex blinked a few times and then looked over at me. “I will be fine,” he said softly.
It was obvious he was in a light shock. We sat there in silence for another minute. I tried not to think about how I would feel if I were Alex and had killed two people. I wouldn’t be handling it even as well as he was. To try to stop my mind going over and over what had happened, I concentrated on the room.
There seemed to be nothing that would make it special. It was as lush as any of the first-class rooms on the Titanic. But I couldn’t spot one extra panel or closet. Absolutely nothing. We had probably guessed wrong—there wasn’t one main device in the center. Yet, why would they guard this room? And why had he called Susan a Lomax? If she was, why had she even mentioned the Lomax in the first place? Just for one minute I wished I could start getting a few answers to questions instead of getting so damn many new questions.
I turned on the couch so I could see Marjorie and Alex better. Alex looked very pale and his eyes seemed unfocused. Marjorie gave me a half-smile.
“Any suggestions?”
Marjorie slowly shook her head, then squirmed, trying to pull her hands free. “I wish they’d loosen these up. My fingers are starting to hurt.”
I pulled on my ties and felt the sharp bite as the twine dug into my skin. I was tempted to get to my feet and somehow try to get the door open. But that seemed utterly fruitless. Chances were both of our captors were outside the door and I wouldn’t get farther than a few steps if I tried to make a run for it.
But at the same time, I hated the thought of sitting there waiting for them to do whatever they wanted to us. I was just about to suggest to Marjorie and Alex that we try the door, when it opened and both the guard woman and the skeleton man came back in.
He motioned at the couch and then sat down on the bed. The guard woman moved over to Alex. Without the slightest hesitation, she untied his bonds. Then she pulled Marjorie around and untied hers. Her grasp felt strong and tight as she turned me and untied my wrists. She tossed the twine into a corner and moved back over to the door where she stood with her back against it, staring across the room.
I rubbed my wrists and hands, trying to get the blood flowing again. We had just killed one of their people and now we were being untied. Why? This was getting stranger by the minute.
“I’m Patrick,” the skeleton man said, giving us a half-smile. “Not my full or complete name, but enough for now. This is Shara.” He pointed at the guard woman. She didn’t move.
He was trying the “let’s-all-be-friends” method, but I wasn’t going to go along. I had a hundred questions and it was about time someone started answering them. If he wanted information from us, he was going to have to give a bunch in return.
“I hate games,” I said. “So tell me straight off why you untied us.”
Patrick smiled. “Because I don’t plan on killing you, and it would be impossible to catch you again after the next cycle. So it seems to make more sense to untie you and see if we can talk. So answer a question for me. Why were you trying to free the Lomax?”
“To have her help us get back,” Marjorie said.
Patrick leaned back on the bed and laughed. He was so thin it appeared his jaw would become detached from his skull at any moment. It was as if we were watching an animated skull from an old movie.
“Her help you?” he said after a moment. “I’m afraid that would not have been the case, even if it were possible.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because she is a Lomax,” he said. “She is here to destroy this group in any way she can. I’m amazed she didn’t kill you the first time you met, wherever that was.”
Now I laughed a hard, purposeful laugh. “That’s what I thought you were,” I said. “Why should I believe you any more than her?” She hadn’t actually said that, but telling him she had might put him off balance.
“She said that?” he asked. “And when did she tell you that?”
“Before we came through the mirror.”
He jumped to his feet, his face tight and very serious. “How long before you came through?”
His sudden action caught me off guard. “Since she got here?” I asked. “Or since she told me?”
He looked over at Shara who also looked very worried. “She would have been able to signal soon after she discovered the mirror,” Shara said to Patrick in answer to the unasked question.
“When did she discover the mirror device?” Patrick demanded. “She’s been here for nine cycles. That’s what we were going by. We assumed she came through immediately.”
“I brought the mirror up out of the water twenty-four hours before that.”
Patrick looked at Shara.
She shook her head. “They might already have it, depending on where the device was found in relation to their base.”
Patrick looked back at me. “Where is the device located?”
“I assume you mean the mirror. It’s about a day’s travel into the Idaho primitive area. A very remote region.”
Patrick nodded. “Then we’ve got at least this cycle.”
“For what?” I didn’t like the sound of what he was saying. Fred and Constance would be guarding that mirror. I sure didn’t want them in the middle of any war.
“Time,” Patrick said, “before the Lomax team Susan undoubtedly called to get to where you left the mirror. We can only hope our people will be able to trace us and arrive here before they get there. If not, we will have to make this fight alone.”
“I have friends guarding that mirror. What will happen to them?”
Patrick’s face twisted but held its cold look. “I doubt if they will be able to stop them. The Lomax are very efficient. They need that mirror to send a squad against us. Your friends will be fighting maybe six or seven like her.”
“Fighting? How can I trust what you are saying any more than I should have trusted what Susan told me?”
Patrick shrugged. “Don’t, then. I’ve untied you. You are free to go anytime you would like. But tell me, will your friends try to protect your mirror?”
I imagined Constance and Fred sitting in their lodge. That mirror was their only link with me. They would protect it with their lives. I would do the same if the situation was reversed. “Yes,” I said.
“How many of them are there?”
“Three,” I said.
Patrick shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, but I doubt if they will have much luck against the Lomax. Lomax are a very cold and cruel people. They are called the Ice People for more reasons than their white hair.”
“Then we’ve got to get back and warn them.”
Patrick sighed. “I’m afraid that that’s not going to be easy.” He glanced up at Shara and then back at me.
“You mean you don’t have a way back either?” Marjorie said.
Patrick shook his head.
“Did Susan?” I asked.
“The Lomax? No, she didn’t either.” Patrick stood, went to Shara, and whispered in her ear. She nodded and he turned and faced us. “I wasn’t planning on showing you this, but it seems I may need your help in defending this ship.”
He moved around the couch to a section of oak paneling on the bow wall. With a few light touches, the paneling slid silently back.
He motioned for us to come closer and Marjorie and I both moved over beside him.
In my life I had seen a lot of things that were so amazing or special that it, as the old saying goes, took my breath away. Usually, it occurred when I looked across a mountain range at sunset, or when I stood in front of a piece of fine art. I suppose it was a deep feeling of appreciation for something that goes beyond everyday beauty. As I stood in front of that open panel, I again felt that same deep, openmouthed sense of wonder.
The area behind the panel was a deep black, with no visible corners or walls. It was as if I was looking into a huge, completely black room. Suspended waist high and what appeared to be only a few feet inside the blackness was a bluish tinted, crystal-clear replica of the Titanic.
I took a moment to simply stare at the fantastic beauty of the floating ship before I started to look at its details. It was at least ten feet long and three feet high, with the starboard side facing us. Every detail was there, yet completely see-through. I could look down through the boat deck into the first-class lounge. I could see the very booth Marjorie and I had sat in. I could see the shelves of books in the library and each step of the grand staircase.
That alone would have been enough, but hundreds of tiny globes of green light, single or in groups, dotted the insides of the ship. Some of the tiny balls floated slowly through the ship. Six green globes filled the small room beside the one bright white dot in the center of the ship. For a moment I stared at the tiny green globe that symbolized where I stood.
“The main time device that keeps us cycling?” I finally asked.
“Yes,” Patrick said. “I’m afraid so.”
“This is a time machine?” Marjorie asked.
Patrick nodded without looking away from the model ship.
“Amazing,” Alex said from behind me. I glanced back at him. A little color seemed to have returned to his cheeks. A good sign. Marjorie reached out and squeezed his arm.
I turned back to gaping at the beautiful blue ship with its tiny globes. “I assume,” I said after another minute of silence, “that you are from the future.”
Patrick looked over at me. “Why would you say that?”
“Susan admitted she was,” I said. “You being from the future, too, would seem to make as much sense as anything. Isn’t this similar to your time devices?”
Patrick shook his head and looked back at the suspended ship. “Nothing at all, I’m afraid. This is as far ahead of us as one of your airlines would be to a covered wagon.”
I kept staring at the suspended ship and the green globes. It looked so simple, yet so amazingly complex. “Is there any indication how this hooks up to the mirrors?”
“None that we have found,” Patrick said.
“You mean there’s no machinery?” Marjorie asked. “Just this?”
Again Patrick nodded.
“And therefore not much hope of finding a way to reverse the mirrors and send us back through. Right?”
Patrick shrugged. “There might have been, given enough time. Lawrence felt he was making headway. But we don’t have the time.”
He sighed and continued staring at the beautiful ship and the tiny floating green globes, all floating in the pure blackness.
“And now we don’t have Lawrence.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
First-Class Stateroom C-85
Fifth Cycle
April 14, 1912
AS I GOT older, I slowly came to the realization that there were no absolutes in the real world. I had been taught, way back, by television, by books, by my parents, that there were “good guys” and “bad guys” and that the good guys should always win. That nice, clean perception of the world dominated everything in my early years. Comics, movies, even the history books in school all screamed that one side was right and the other was wrong and all a person had to do was be on the right side and everything would be nifty keen.
Then I faced boot camp and the good guys made me carry a gun. The good guys dropped bombs on villages in ’Nam. And the good guys shot kids on college campuses. Suddenly, white hats and black hats didn’t exist. They were all shaded in different tones of gray, the shade depending on which side you happened to be looking from. It was a terrible realization and one I fought against for many years. Mostly without success.
So who was on the right side this time? Who was the lightest shade of gray? Patrick or Susan? Both had said they wanted to protect the Titanic group from an enemy who wanted to destroy it. And for some reason, I had come to assume that the Lomax, whoever they were, were the ones the ship needed protecting against. I was beginning to doubt that the Lomax even existed. Maybe some great joker in the future had made up this terrible enemy for both sides to fight instead of fighting each other. I doubted it, but it made as much sense as anything else I had heard so far.
The logical side of my mind always wanted to weigh the facts, stick them in outline form
, and then stand back to see what it showed. When that test failed, as it sometimes did, I always trusted my instincts. On both scales, Patrick was coming out ahead. And he was doing it by simple, small actions.
For example, the three of us were free. Marjorie had gone and changed into some clothes with only a promise that she wouldn’t say anything to anyone about the ship in the wall. Shara had had no reason to call Susan a Lomax when she did unless that was what she truly believed Susan to be. Patrick had had no real reason to show us the blue crystal ship behind the panel. Yet he had. A few small actions that mounted up to trust. In this case, those actions were all I had to go on. It looked, for now, as if I was going to have to trust Patrick.
Besides that, if what he said was true, Fred and Constance would be in trouble. Trusting Patrick seemed to be the only way to help them. But not even Patrick thought helping them was possible.
As Shara let Marjorie back into the room, Patrick checked his watch. “Four hours until the end of this cycle. It’s time we come up with a course of action.”
I had been standing for most of the last hour in front of the scale model of the Titanic. Alex was back sitting on the couch and Patrick was sitting with his legs crossed on the bed.
Marjorie moved across the room and stood beside me. “It seems to me,” I said, “that our choices are limited.”
Patrick nodded slowly. “In many ways.”
“You obviously have something in mind,” Marjorie said.
I could feel Marjorie’s arm brushing against mine. Having her standing there made me feel stronger. I liked that feeling.
“Yes, I do,” Patrick said. “Defense. It’s imperative to the survival of this group that we stop the coming attack.”
“First off,” I said, “why are you so sure there will be an attack? How and what are they going to attack? And how are you so sure of the timetable involved?” Those questions should keep him busy.
“Susan was the first Lomax to have found her way into this group. She came through unprepared and cycled very near Lawrence. She didn’t expect us to be here, so we were able to capture her. However, I have no doubt that she sent for help before she came through, giving her people the exact location of your mirror.”
Laying the Music to Rest Page 17