The Next Together

by Lauren James

  Carlisle, England, 1745

  When Katherine brought Matthew his dinner, she was shocked at how much worse he had become in the hour she had been away. His skin was redder, blistering, and he was trembling badly. She shook him awake gently, and he sat up shakily. He managed to eat only a little of the meal before he threw up once again. She chattered as she tucked in the blankets, trying to distract them both.

  “So you say I was a servant in a war in eighteen fifty-four? That other me sounds very brave. I’m not sure I’d be able to do that. I must seem so dull in comparison. I don’t even know how to boil potatoes properly!”

  Matthew blinked blearily, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “You were amazingly brave. But you aren’t dull now. You’ve just lived a different life. I am sure there are lots of things that you can do that the Katy I knew couldn’t.”

  “So the minute you saw me I swept you off your feet with my sparkling wit and personality? You proposed on the spot and we were wed within the hour?” She was trying to make him smile, but he just answered seriously.

  “Not precisely. Actually, I thought you were a boy.” When he saw her outraged expression, he hurriedly added, “You were dressed like a boy. You introduced yourself as Kit.”

  “Oh.” She lay down next to him, turning to face him and making herself comfortable. “So how long did it take for you to find out I was a woman?”

  He turned his head on the pillow to grin cheekily at her. “You’re a woman?” He broke into weak laughter at her unamused expression. “It’s a long story and not one I’m very proud of. I got angry and treated you badly. I’m quite ashamed of myself, so I’d rather not give you all the details. But eventually I got to know you as a woman.”

  “And you fell deeply in love?”

  Considering she’d been teasing him almost incessantly since she’d met him, it surprised her when he actually blushed, his cheeks reddening even more than they already were.

  “I was in awe of your determination to survive at all costs. When I met this tiny little girl, who’d found a way to carve out an existence when the whole world was against her, I felt as if I’d been mollycoddled my entire life. She was fiery and funny and challenged me in a way no one else had. So, yes, I fell in love.”

  She gazed at him, filled with utter amazement that this was how he saw his Katy. Then she folded her arms. “What do you mean, a tiny little girl? I’m not tiny!”

  “What? Oh, well. Katy was a lot shorter than you. She was very skinny. I don’t think she had a consistent food supply growing up.” He paused, looking sad. “I wonder if she would have grown as tall as you if she’d been raised properly. It’s horrible to think that just the way people live can change so much about them – not just their memories, but their physical appearance too.”

  “Katy’s a lot braver than me.”

  “I’m sure that isn’t true. When I … arrived … you were in the middle of defending your city. You could have chosen to leave Carlisle with your family, but you didn’t, you stayed to fight. You could even have just waited at home to see what would happen, but you’ve been on the battlements, assisting the garrison with the cannons. That sounds wonderfully brave. If anything, I’m the weak one. In comparison to both versions of you, I’m a coward.”

  “I think you’re very brave. You went to a battlefield as a journalist. That takes a lot of courage.”

  “I think that was an anomaly,” he admitted in a low tone. “I was caught up in the glory of it all.”

  “I don’t think there are any true heroes. Just people who ignore their survival instincts long enough to do something incredibly foolhardy.”

  “That sounds about right. Although even with hindsight, I think I made the right decision – or the version of me that lives in this century did. Defending Carlisle was worth one life.”

  There was a silence, and then Matthew smiled brightly, trying to reduce the tension. “Wait … you don’t know about dinosaurs, do you? They weren’t discovered until my century.”

  She shook her head. He grinned. It was the most excited she’d seen him since his arrival. “You’re going to be utterly amazed. Do you know what a fossil is?”

  They talked for a while longer, and once Katherine had got past the shock of giant spiky lizards that roamed the earth, she was very interested. But he was growing more exhausted, so she let him sleep. By morning she was wrung out, having spent the night in a light doze, worrying dreadfully. Matthew had woken up several times to throw up, and she made sure she was there to care for him.

  CHAPTER 31

  Katherine Galloway invited Matthew Galloway to join the closed group “Help get Matthew to ~*~propose~*~ and think it’s his own idea in four easy steps”

  Members (35) • Posts (250)

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-164

  CARLISLE, ENGLAND, 2039

  Kate was waiting with Tom in the car while Matt picked up breakfast – and coffee. Her tablet buzzed and she stared at a text that Matt had just sent her: “I’ve just remembered Clove.” He must have sent it from the cafe.

  She stared at it, trying to decipher his meaning. Clove? What was Clove? Had he misspelt “love”?

  “Tom, do you kno—?” She was interrupted by the sound of sirens. Kate peered out of the rear window in horror as the wailing tone got closer. A police car was pulling into the car park of the fast-food restaurant.

  “Shit,” Tom hissed, starting the engine.

  Two officers burst out of the car, guns in hand, and ran into the restaurant.

  “What?” Kate said. “No. What’s happening?”

  There was an explosion of noise from inside the restaurant. Kate watched in horror as people began running outside.

  > ALERT: Subject allocation “MATT” in time-landscape 2039 in danger

  > Based on previous results, intervention not recommended

  “They must have sent out an alert for you two,” Tom said, reversing the car too fast. “Your faces were probably caught on CCTV at CSL.”

  “What?! Stop. Where are you going? We need to help him.” Kate went to open the car door, but Tom reached over and grabbed her shoulder.

  “Kate, no. We need to go.”

  “Matt. We can’t just leave him. We need to—” A series of gunshots sounded from the building, and Kate froze.

  Tom squeezed his eyes closed, took a breath. “We need to leave.”

  He didn’t stop to explain. He drove out of the back exit, checking left and right for more police cars. “Kate, there’s nothing we can do to help him. He’s probably just being arrested. We need to leave now, before they get us too. We need to get to Scotland.”

  “But—” She was shaking; she didn’t know what to do.

  “He’s going to be fine. He’s just going to jail. We can get him out. It’s going to be fine.”

  This wasn’t happening. Not again.

  “Kate. Please,” Tom said, looking back at her. “It’s going to be all right.”

  She dissolved into tears.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he repeated as he took the exit onto the motorway, like the reassurance was for himself as much as her.

  She didn’t know if she was crying for her Matt, this Matthew, or for every Matthew she’d known and lost. All throughout history they had been doing this, finding and loving each other and then being ripped apart before they even had a chance to live. Why did Matthew always leave her alone?

  She wondered how anyone could survive such soul-wrenching pain and love. Matthew was hers, had apparently always been hers, and now he was gone. Why did it always end? Why did it always even start? Her thoughts kept flickering through thousands of memories; she couldn’t focus or process any of the scenes flooding her mind. She couldn’t place any of the moments, just had to let the snapshots of their lives together flow over her: images of Matthew smiling at her, snatches of conversation, kisses. They were on a boat, and then they were in a candlelit garden and now they were in a science lab, and she co
uldn’t tell if that was an actual memory or one of her aunt’s… No, they were all her own. All of those things had happened to them.

  Matthew had been her servant – she could see him looking at her from the seat of a carriage – and he had taught her how to be a reporter, and in another century, she had flirted with him by email, and he had always, always loved her. Every time he met her. And every time, they lost each other.

  She could remember him dying in her arms and her dying in his, time and time again. How many times had they done this dance, this horrific, beautiful dance through time? Why had they done it? What was so special about them that they were brought back – pulled together – by the universe? Why did it always go wrong? Why couldn’t it have worked, just this once? Kate closed her eyes, twisted her lip, and remembered how every Matthew throughout history had always looked at her as if she was the centre of his world.

  Was she the centre of his? Or the centre of the world, full stop? That seemed arrogant and yet, the universe – or God, or some alien with nothing better to do – must have a reason for pulling them together like this again and again, pushing them through time itself even, just to keep them close before then ripping them apart just as easily. Why?

  She needed to know the answers. She had to find whatever loose end they were leaving behind each time – the thread that the universe couldn’t leave untied.

  Kate dropped her head into her hands. She was exhausted.

  They were nearly at the border now, nearly safe. But each mile was taking her further from Matt. How could they have left him behind?

  “We’ll go back,” Tom said quietly, as if reading her mind. “Once we’ve sorted out the bacteria. We’ll fix that, and then we’ll go back for him.”

  “I’ll always go back for him,” she said. “I’m just worried that this time he won’t be waiting.”

  Kate took a deep breath. What would Matt want her to do? The answer came quickly. Reveal the truth about CSL and the bacteria. Show everyone the vial.

  Kate froze.

  “Matt had the vial in his pocket,” she heard herself say, voice blank. “We don’t have the bacteria any more!”

  Folios/v8/Time-landscape-2039/MS-1

  Crimea, Ukraine, 1854

  Katy and Matthew ran for the tent where the generals were meeting. They barged past the guard and forced their way inside. The highest level officials of the British and French armies were all in there.

  “We’re under fire!” Katy burst out. “The Russians – they’re firing at the encampment!”

  For a moment, nobody moved. It was silent – there was no sound of gunfire or the whistle of an incoming rocket.

  Lord Somerset stood up, face red. “Kit! Get out of here this instant,” he exploded, as officers began shouting to each other in quick French. “I’ve had enough of your lies.”

  “I’m not lying,” she said, desperate. “The tent’s going to be hit by a rocket.”

  “You need to get somewhere safer, or everyone here is going to die,” Matthew added, in a loud, determined voice.

  “This is treason!” Lord Somerset raged as a French officer stood up. He looked between Lord Somerset and Matthew with equal suspicion, and then made his way carefully to the entrance of the tent. In a rush, the rest of the French generals followed him.

  Lord Somerset shouted out orders for the rest of the men to stay put, but the exodus was underway. Katy stepped to the side to let them leave and returned Matthew’s relieved glance. They’d done it. The officers weren’t going to die. They’d saved them!

  Lord Somerset, however, was outraged. “I’m arresting you both for treason,” he said.

  “Arrest us by all means,” Matthew said. “But we need to get away from the tent.”

  “So you can escape? I don’t think so.” Lord Somerset sat down at the table and invited them to do the same. “I want to know what you’re trying to achieve with this foolish interruption.”

  Matthew looked like he was going to resist, but then he sank down into a nearby chair.

  “Fine. But let Kit go. He has nothing to do with this. He was just following my orders.”

  Lord Somerset nodded to the soldier who had grabbed hold of Katy. The man released her, and she took a quick step away.

  “Kit, leave. Now,” Matthew said.

  “No!” she said, but the soldier began dragging her outside and she was powerless to resist.

  “You do realize you have just ruined a meeting of great importance, don’t you? Are you purposefully trying to help the Russians win this war?” Lord Somerset asked Matthew. He got no further, because just then there was a whistle, and a loud explosion, as a rocket hit the tent.

  Carlisle, England, 1745

  Matthew didn’t get any better. Katherine nursed him unceasingly, but his condition deteriorated quickly. His skin was covered in ulcers; his now bald scalp was swollen. He threw up constantly, could rarely sit upright without fainting with dizziness, and he struggled to remember where he was. Katherine was beside herself with worry.

  She had fetched a doctor, who hadn’t recognized his disease and had wanted to let his blood. Katherine had stopped him, remembering Matthew’s lesson about humours, and had sent him away with his fee. She was reduced to just keeping Matthew comfortable and hoping for the best.

  “Katherine,” he said to her as she was cleaning his sores, “I’m so sorry.”

  She looked at his swollen face and swallowed. “Don’t be silly. You are going to get better. You – you have to survive this, Matthew. Please.”

  He brushed a hand against her cheek. “I’m not going to, Katherine. I’m so sorry. I’m dying. We both know it. I wasn’t strong enough to make the transition, and it’s killing me. I hope … I’m glad that I met you. I don’t regret coming here, and keeping you for a few more days, even if it led to this – my death. I would return over and over if it gave me a little longer with you.”

  She tried not to cry, blinking away the tears rapidly. “I can’t go on without you, Matthew. What do I do? What can I do?”

  “Try to be happy.”

  “I can’t,” she said, and now she was weeping openly. “I can’t lose you twice. How can this be fair?”

  “It’s more than fair, Katherine. You got to keep me after I died. How many times does that happen?”

  He struggled to sit up, trying to wrap her in a hug, but his strength was dwindling and he couldn’t manage it. He settled for stroking her hair.

  “Matthew, what if this happens to me as well? What if when you die I go back to the seventeenth century, where there is another version of you, and I don’t survive the journey? What if it goes on for ever in an endless series? I’m scared.”

  “Me too. Oh God, Katy, I’m scared too. But I don’t think that will happen. What would be the sense in that? Whoever has done this must have watched us our whole lives. They wouldn’t send you back just to die. It serves no purpose. I think they made a mistake, sending me back like this. They were trying to help us, and they did it wrong. Maybe – maybe they’ll find a way to send you back without getting ill. Or maybe it just won’t happen at all. Maybe we fixed it, whatever it was that needed us both to be here. I hope we did.”

  He closed his eyes. The speech had taken him a long time, with frequent pauses for breath. He settled back in the bedding and went to sleep.

  Katherine watched him, thinking over what he’d said until it was too dark to see, and she fell asleep curled up close to him.

  When she woke up, he was dead.

  > ALERT: Subject allocation “MATTHEW” in time-landscape 1745 timed out due to unconsidered high radiation levels of transfer

  > Transfer between adjacent space threads not viable

  > Operation terminated

  > Reboot system

  > Waiting for user input …

  > … waiting …

  >> Instruction acquired

  >> Reboot of subjects initiated

  > Calculating new path of execution
<
br />   > Searching for time-landscape

  > Transferring file

  > File for subject allocation “MATTHEW” loading

  > Subject allocation “MATTHEW” rebooting in 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1

  > Subject transfer complete

  > Awaiting completion of subject allocation “KATHERINE” in time-landscape 1745

  > … waiting …

  CHAPTER 32

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-165

  Crimea, Ukraine, 1854

  The rocket hit the tent with a screaming noise. There was a shock of heat and noise as the far end collapsed, with Lord Raglan and Matthew still inside.

  Matthew.

  Katy rushed in.

  For a moment her heart stopped because she couldn’t see Matthew at all. He wasn’t here. He’d completely disappeared. Where was he? And then he crawled out from under the table, head tucked into his arm to protect it from the smoke. She sighed with relief because he was all right – he’d survived – and then the flames suddenly picked up in a roar of air and heat and everything seemed to collapse further inwards. The canvas pressed around her. A tent pole crashed against her shoulder. She couldn’t see Matthew any more. He was hidden somewhere under layers of burning canvas, flames and smoke.

  She coughed, trying to clear her throat of the thick burn. It was terrifying. The giant furnace blazing around them made her feel small and fragile and helpless.

  She pulled her collar over her mouth and struggled forward to the table. She pulled and heaved until it was on its side. There was no sign of Matthew, and then she saw him, lying near by. He was pinned under a tent pole, the weight of it and the burning canvas pressing down on him. She crawled towards him.

  “Get out! Get away!” Matthew shouted, but she ignored him and grabbed hold of the pole. She pulled and pulled, crying out in frustration when the pole wouldn’t move at all. She was too weak, and the thick smoke was making her choke. Despair threatened to overwhelm her – she couldn’t do it; she couldn’t free Matthew.