Carnival of Time

by Alan MacRaffen

  “Let's get moving,” Caleb said, pulling himself up onto Chuck’s saddle. “If a train comes, there won’t be enough room for all of us to get out of the way. We need to get to the next station as fast as we can.”

  Eric nodded nervously, the gesture comically exaggerated by his long neck. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  With a gentle nudge of his heels, Caleb signaled Chuck to head down the tunnel, taking care to steer her well away from the third rail. Krezahu and the others followed swiftly into the darkness on their own powerful legs.

  After only a few minutes the group came to a T-intersection. Caleb signaled for Chuck to stop and looked up and down the intersecting tunnel. The others gathered around Chuck, looking up at Caleb.

  “What is it?” Tess asked. “Did you hear something?”

  “No,” Caleb said, slowly. “I just got a feeling…”

  “It would be wise to heed it,” Krezahu said. “My ears are sharper than yours, and I do hear something.”

  The others listened for a moment. A distant squealing sound echoed down the tunnel, followed by a faint vibration in the floor. Caleb swore and spun Chuck around as he felt a warm wind begin to blow down the tunnel.

  “It’s a train,” he hissed. He stared at the branching paths around them. Which track is it on, he thought desperately. One wrong choice and I’ll get us all killed!

  Just then, a pair of lights blinked on at the mouths of their tunnel and one of the side tunnels. The lights on their tunnel were red, while the other lights were green.

  “That’s it!” Caleb gasped. He nudged Chuck back down the tunnel they had come from, the others fast on her heels. “They must’ve re-wired all the old subway systems—even the signal lights. Come on, quick!”

  The group charged after Chuck, stopping about thirty feet down the tunnel. Caleb signaled for Chuck to lie down close to the wall. The others ducked low next to the crouching dinosaur, peering nervously behind them. The wind and noise grew, until a bright light could be seen shining along the walls of the intersecting tunnel. Caleb watched intently as he lay low against Chuck’s back.

  The train swept past at high speed, crossing their tunnel at a right angle, just as the lights had indicated. From their position in the other tunnel, the group could only see a single car at a time, but that was enough. Each car was filled with dark silhouettes standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the crowded train. Most were long and lean, with the birdlike posture of the Ne Shaazi soldiers. A few, however, were larger and more human. Each of the hulking and misshapen forms was different, but they were all clearly recognizable as the horrible mutant Commanders.

  The group sat still for a minute after the train had passed, none daring to move or speak. Finally, with a pat on her shoulder, Caleb signaled Chuck to continue moving south down their original path.

  They continued in what Caleb guessed was a fairly straight southerly direction for several more minutes. A few times, they heard more trains approaching, but they easily evaded them by following the signal lights on branching tunnels.

  The latest tunnel the group had hidden in was in poor condition. The rails were badly rusted, as was the third rail, which hadn’t been replaced with the strange plastic.

  Caleb was about to turn them around, considering the tunnel to be a dead end, when he heard the sound of distant voices. He motioned for the others to be silent, listening intently to the distant echoes. After a moment, Tess leaned close and whispered to him.

  “Those sound like humans,” she said, a puzzled look crossing her face.

  Caleb nodded, still listening. “I hear some kind of machines too,” he said.

  “What would all those people be doing here?” Tess asked.

  “I don’t know, but it seems like maybe we should find out,” Caleb answered. He slowly slid down from Chuck’s saddle and led her forward cautiously. The others fell in step behind him, treading softly and following the faint sounds.

  After a hundred feet or so, they stopped at an open access door in the side of the abandoned tunnel. The voices echoed more clearly from the doorway. Beyond the door was a relatively small hall that stretched out for about thirty feet before disappearing around a sharp corner. Flickering light cast long shadows on the walls at the far end, and snippets of conversation could be heard in between the clanks and hissings of some unknown machine. Caleb thought he heard the words “compressor” and “airlock,” along with several grunts and muttered curses.

  “They don’t sound too happy,” Eric whispered.

  “They sound like they’re in a hurry too,” Tess added. “Do you think it might be some kind of slave labor?”

  Caleb shrugged. “Could be,” he said thoughtfully.

  “Do you want to take a look?” Garner asked. “It could be dangerous.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it would be dangerous, but we need to find out as much about this place as we can,” Caleb answered. “I say we go as close as we can without getting spotted. I want to find out what they’re doing.”

  Garner nodded and headed down the hall after Caleb, the others following close behind. At the front of the group, Caleb gestured for Chuck to stay while the others passed, then signaled for her to follow. The big dinosaur’s hips and shoulders brushed against the walls of the narrow hall occasionally, but the sound of her movements was muffled by the bulk of the old-bloods in front of her.

  The group proceeded slowly down the hall and around the corner, listening carefully to the mysterious sounds and voices as they went. The sound of machinery grew louder, with several loud hissing and grinding noises echoing down the hall. Caleb could make out very little of the conversation, but he distinctly heard one man say “Hurry up—Clank’s coming!”

  After turning the corner the hallway continued for about fifty feet, then turned right. The group stopped at the last corner, the sounds of voices and engines now very clear. Around the corner, the hall was blocked by a large metal-barred door, which hung open slightly. Caleb crept up to the door, peering out through the narrow opening at the large chamber beyond.

  The room appeared to be another old subway station, but this one was clearly no longer used as such. It was one of the very old stations, with a high, vaulted ceiling supported by broad arches, all covered with patterns of elaborate tiles. Numerous electric lights glimmered from dusty old wall sconces, casting deep shadows in the far corners of the room. The raised platforms were covered with a bewildering array of tables, shelves, bookcases and old filing cabinets. Each was filled with a countless assortment of random artifacts, some familiar and some unidentifiable. One table was littered with all sorts of electronic equipment in varying states of disassembly, everything from toasters and blenders to computer parts and radio components. A shelf near the door was filled with preserved food of all kinds, including forty intact cans of spaghetti and meatballs. In another corner of the room, a large, battered steamer trunk stood open, revealing stacks of hundreds of wrinkled, water-damaged magazines. More shelves were bolted to the walls, and even the floor and ceiling were cluttered with random objects, some heaped in messy piles, some hanging from racks in neat rows.

  In the sunken central section of the room, where the subway rails had once been, the floor was smoothed over with a layer of concrete and brick. This area was less cluttered than the platforms, but the objects here were much more unusual. One table had a number of unidentifiable electronic instruments laying on it, some of them humming and arcing tiny bolts of red-hued static. In another area stood what seemed to be a large generator of some sort, but its access panels had been removed and it looked as though the machine had been mostly gutted and reconstructed to serve some new, mysterious function.

  In the center of the lower floor, a large clear area was flanked by a rumbling compressor and what appeared to be the re-wired winch from the front of some sport utility vehicle. Several human figures bustled about the lower floor, tending to the compressor and watching a number of control panels mounted below the edges of
the upper platforms. Although the people looked hurried and were dressed in rather ragged clothing, they appeared to be relatively healthy and uninjured. One of the men turned to look at a large door set in a cinder block wall closing off the far end of the room.

  As the latch mechanism on the door began to turn, he called out anxiously to the others. “Hurry it up—Clank’s here!”

  The others quickly pulled various levers and switches, and a loud hissing emanated from the ceiling. Caleb looked up to see a thick circular hatch swing down from the center of the tiled ceiling. It looked like the hatch from a submarine, crudely bolted into the old masonry. Streams of water poured down from the edges of the hatch, dripping onto the cleared area in the center of the chamber. One of the men threw a lever on the winch, and a heavy rattling noise echoed down from the open hatch.

  Caleb’s gaze was suddenly drawn back to the far end of the room, as the large door swung open with a low groan. All of the people in the room fell silent and turned to look nervously at the darkened doorway.

  In the shadows, something large shifted, and a sound like rattling bones echoed into the chamber.

  That must be “Clank,” Caleb thought, straining to see more of the mysterious figure. For a moment, a pair of beady eyes glittered in the darkness, then the shadowy mass shambled awkwardly into the light.

  The figure that entered the room was far larger than any human, but its hunched, uneven gait conveyed a sense of frailty that was at once both pathetic and repellent. The creature had a roughly human frame, but it was grotesquely stretched and emaciated, making it look nearly skeletal. Its shockingly curled back was lined with tall, projecting spikes that exaggerated its already hunched appearance. The long, bony neck seemed to stick out at a slight angle, as if it had been broken, and appeared far to weak to support the beast’s long, toothy skull. The head was vaguely crocodilian in form, with the narrow, needle-toothed snout of a baryonyx, but it was crested with the wickedly spiked frill of some sort of ceratopsid. Crazed, eager eyes gleamed like red sparks as the monstrosity scanned the chamber, eyeing each human in turn. The beast lurched toward the center of the room on bent and withered legs, lashing its long tail spastically with each step. Its appallingly long arms nearly brushed the ground, twitching and flexing long, spidery fingers.

  Caleb could now see that the clicking bone sound he had heard was actually the sound of countless plastic trinkets hanging all over the creature’s wraithlike body. It was bound up in layer upon layer of ragged plastic—torn strips of black trash bags, dirty white grocery bags, and patches of shredded blue tarpaulin. Thinner cords of knotted plastic hung from every point of its body, bearing a disturbing array of plastic objects. Soda-rings, pen caps and broken toothbrushes clicked and clattered against computer keys, TV remotes, and brightly-colored children’s sunglasses. The clinking, rattling wrappings made the beast look as though it had been half-mummified in some grisly junkyard ritual.

  The creature stopped just outside of the cleared area, peering up to watch a bulky, dripping shape descend from the ceiling hatch. The winch groaned loudly as a figure in a heavy, old-fashioned diving suit swung into view, hanging from a sturdy harness. Caleb couldn’t see the man’s face through the wet, foggy glass of the metal helmet, but he could tell by the size and shape of the suit that the figure was human. As the man swung about, Caleb could see that the primitive suit had been rigged with modern scuba-tanks, though they were heavily patched and modified.

  By the time the man’s booted feet reached the floor, the hideous creature was twitching with barely concealed glee. As a pair of men came forward to help remove the heavy metal helmet, the creature spoke. Its voice was shockingly smooth and human-sounding.

  “Well, my friend,” it said, eyes flashing, “what did you find for me today?”

  The two men lifted the heavy helmet from the diver, revealing a head of long, grayish-white hair tied in a neat ponytail. The man’s face was still out of view, turned as he was to face the looming creature. He addressed it in a surprisingly casual and familiar tone.

  “Calm yourself, Moreno,” the man said, reaching into a large pocket on the hip of his suit. “I found everything you asked for. Don’t I always?”

  He withdrew a plastic bag full of seawater, with a trio of small circuit boards floating inside. One of the other men quickly took the bag and passed it to another, who began emptying the contents and placing the boards in some sort of cylindrical canister.

  “Yes, yes!” the creature gasped, “Superb! Why do I ever doubt you, old friend? You could spot a needle in the middle of a hundred haystacks! I trust you also found the disk then?”

  “It took some time,” he said, pulling another object from a second pocket, “but yes. I hope it’s the version you wanted.”

  The creature took the object and held it up to one blinking, beady eye.

  “Ahhh…” the monster seemed to sigh with ecstasy. It quickly turned to the table with the strange cylinder, opening it and withdrawing one of the newly dried circuit boards. Caleb thought the lurching beast might actually trip and fall as it practically hopped over to another table, where it began carefully connecting the board to another electronic device.

  The other men continued to help the diver out of his suit as the creature finished its work. It quickly picked up the other object the diver had given it, carefully slicing open the plastic wrap with a hooked talon.

  As it pulled the plastic away, Caleb realized that the mysterious object was a compact disk. The creature quickly pressed a button on the tabletop device and placed the CD inside. With a press of a button, the chamber was suddenly filled with slow, smooth jazz rhythms. Caleb stared in wonder as the creature bobbed its head to the sound, its spidery fingers tapping softly on the table.

  “It’s perfect,” the beast whispered after several minutes.

  By that time, the diver was free of his suit. He stepped out; his back still turned to Caleb, and stretched dramatically.

  “So,” he said slowly, “it works? You’ve reversed the effects of the magnetism?”

  “Yes,” the creature said quietly, still listening to the music. “Theoretically, this device could be connected to any of the old machines, instantly reversing the magnetic disruption. Of course, the effect would return as soon as the device was disconnected. The real trick will be to make the reversal permanent.”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Joseph,” the man said. He turned to remove a few more objects from the suit’s other pockets. Caleb was startled to see that the left half of his face was badly scarred, as if from multiple shallow cuts. A black eye patch covered his left eye. A sudden wave of numbness rolled through Caleb’s stomach.

  The man turned the rest of the way around to place the objects on a nearby table. His whole face was visible now. Caleb saw the full, grayish-white beard, the strongly shaped nose, and the one remaining eye, sparkling brightly. Despite the wrinkles, white hair, and scars, Caleb recognized the face instantly.

  “Caleb, what’s wrong?” Tess asked, sensing Caleb’s sudden shock.

  For a moment, Caleb’s mouth just gaped open with no sound at all. Finally, he managed a choked whisper.

  “That’s Bill,” he gasped.

  “What?” Tess whispered, sounding almost as shocked as Caleb.

  Bill turned to speak to the creature again. As he did, his gaze drifted casually across the walls, passing over the shadowed doorway where Caleb and the others crouched silently. After a split second, his eye snapped back to the doorway, latching firmly onto Caleb’s face. For a moment, he simply stared at Caleb, his eye wide open in disbelief. Caleb thought he saw Bill mouth his name, then turn away quickly, feigning interest in some object on the table.

  “So,” Bill muttered, turning back to the monster. “What should I be looking for on my next trip?”

  The creature stared blankly at Bill for a moment, still tapping its finger to the music, then seemed to rouse itself from its thoughts. “Oh, well, I suppose any
more of the electromagnets you’ve been finding, and the diodes, of course. Perhaps some more CDs as well. Maybe this time you could try to find one of…”

  Caleb flinched as Chuck suddenly shifted in the tunnel behind them, causing some stray bit of metal to scrape against the cement floor.

  The creature stopped in mid-sentence, reaching out to switch off the music and tilting its head attentively.

  “What was that?” it said, an edge of menace creeping into its voice.

  “What was what?” Bill asked, trying to sound calm. “Come on, Joseph, you’re not going to start jumping at the sound of rats now, are you?”

  “Quiet!” the creature snapped. “That was no rat. It came from the other door…”

  Bill turned casually to look at the door. With his face turned away from the creature, he stared at Caleb with a look of panic.

  Caleb could only edge backward slowly, hoping that none of the others would make a sound. Behind Bill, the mutant’s tiny red eyes locked on the doorway. The beast rose swiftly and began shambling forward, clicking and clattering as it glared menacingly at the door.

  THE HORSE SNORTED AND BUCKED SLIGHTLY, its eyes rolling in alarm. Carlos shifted in the saddle to glance back at the reeking carcass lying in the middle of Vernal Ave.

  “Must be all the blood,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Caleb.

  “Yeah,” Caleb answered in an equally soft voice. Neither of them seemed entirely convinced of their own words.

  From his perch behind Carlos, Caleb looked up and down the broad avenue, and into every passing side street. The smell of the gutted ceratosaurus had certainly upset the horse, but Caleb wasn’t quite ready to rule out other possibilities as well. He hefted the serrated, banana-sized tooth of the T-rex and eyed its bloodstained edge nervously.

  That Ceratosaurus still has a little bit of meat left on it, Caleb thought to himself. And even after that, there’s the marrow inside the bones.