by Dana Fredsti
“No you’re not,” Amber said. “Come on, you’ve saved me from giant wolves, prehistoric scorpions, and a serial killer. I’d be dead three times over if not for you.”
“She has a point there, soldier boy,” Nellie chimed in.
Blake took a deep breath, then another. He lifted his head, looked around for the cup of coffee he’d set down. Amber handed it to him. He drank the rest in one swallow and nodded.
“Fair enough.”
Amber glanced over at Cam. The Celt was listening intently to whatever Merlin was saying—and looking totally shell-shocked. Curiosity aroused, Amber got to her feet and went over to join them.
“Hey, is he okay?” She nodded at Cam. “What did you tell him?”
Merlin looked up and smiled at her.
“I was telling Cam what I’m about to tell all of you.”
“Which is?” Nellie scootched over to sit next to Merlin.
“Ah, that I am a powerful wizard, and that through terrible magics, the mystical balance of the world has fallen into ruin.”
Amber and Nellie exchanged glances.
Nellie snickered.
“Really?” Amber’s tone was doubtful.
Merlin gave an unexpected grin. “Sadly there’s no word for ‘astrophysicist’ in Cam’s culture, but maybe I can explain it a little better to the rest of you.”
“How did you learn his language?” Amber asked.
“I didn’t. It’s just a linguo-implant I have that includes early Brythonic Celtic in its programming.”
Amber’s eyes lit up.
“Is there any way you can do that for me?” she asked. “So that I can talk to him, too?”
“Of course. Remind me when we’re aboard the ship.”
Cam said something to Merlin, pointing at Amber. Merlin nodded, then grinned.
“He just asked the same thing.”
Amber beamed. Being able to talk to Cam, communicate with him in the same language, was more than she could have hoped for.
“Could someone wake the professor?” Merlin looked over to the sleeping Harcourt. “It will be easier to tell all of you this at the same time.” Nellie obligingly leaned back and smacked the snoring man on one shoulder.
“Rise and shine, Professor!”
Harcourt’s snore ended in a startled snort as he sat up, shaking his head in confusion. Taking pity on him, Amber patted the ground next to her.
“Merlin’s going to tell us what happened, Professor,” she said. “Here, sit by me. You’ll want to hear this, I’m sure.”
Harcourt harrumphed in reply, but moved over as she’d suggested. Blake stayed where he was, but listened intently.
“Where do I begin?” Merlin said, the light of the fire casting exaggerated shadows across his face. “As I said, I am an astrophysicist. In particular, my focus of study is underlying cosmological structure theory. I am—or was, more accurately—leading a project engaged in cracking the secret of traveling faster than the speed of light through space.”
Amber hung on his every word. This was seriously the stuff that nerdgasms were made of.
“I apologize if some of you already know this,” Merlin continued, “but the universe is so incomprehensibly large that interstellar journeys would occupy hundreds of thousands, even millions of years. It would take more than a century to reach even the nearest star systems to ours. Our project was trying to find a way to travel the universe faster by warping space-time—the fabric of the universe, if you will.”
“Why on earth would anyone wish to travel through outer space?” Harcourt snorted with a dismissive harrumph. Merlin ignored him and continued.
“Unfortunately, four days ago, there was a terrible accident. The containment field ruptured somehow—I… I still don’t know how or why—and an unexpected event occurred. This Event was… is… well, the Event is a schizochronolinear catastrophe.”
“A schizophrenic what?” Blake scowled.
“What does that mean, a, uh, schizo… chrono… linear catastrophe?” Amber asked, wrestling with the word. Merlin paused, and creases appeared on his brow. His indigo eyes looked almost black, but the tiny strands of silver honeycomb on his forehead glittered in the firelight.
“Let me see if I can explain it.” He stood and stretched out his hand, pointing from one end of the painted cave wall to the other. “Imagine time seen as a continuum— an infinite line containing everything that was and everything that will be…
“Time perhaps as a tangible object,” he suggested. “One that can be touched, like a mural on a wall that stretches infinitely in both directions. Portraying everything that has happened, is happening, and will happen.” He began striding along the length of the wall. “In one direction is the future unfolding.” He reversed his course. “In the other direction the past, much of it forgotten, back to the beginning of time itself.”
He stopped and faced them.
“Finally, imagine time as a stained-glass window. The story of everything laid out in a glittering mosaic of trillions upon trillions of moments, from the big bang to the fiery death of the universe.” The intensity of his gaze held everyone in captive silence, waiting for him to speak again.
“Then the window shatters,” he continued finally, “everywhere… and every when.” He paused, took a deep breath.
“That is what has happened.”
He sat back down.
“Oh,” Nellie said flatly.
Amber struggled with the overwhelming concept, straining to take it all in. Harcourt glared at the floor, as if personally offended by the universe. Blake rubbed his eyes and shook his head, like a man trying to wake up. Cam put a hand on Amber’s arm, checking to make sure the druid’s words hadn’t alarmed her too badly. He put his hands together and flapped them like a bird’s wings.
“Tempus… fugit,” he said, and quickly brought his hands crashing down to the ground like a fallen eagle, wiggling his fingers to mime a scattering collapse.
“Tempus… fuck it,” she agreed. She turned to Merlin. “Doctor, this accident—when did you say it happened?”
“Four days ago. February 2nd, 2219. Currently, all of us are living in the twenty-third century. Today is technically February 6th, 2219—only ‘today’ is made up of pieces from a million yesterdays.”
“So, all these different places,” she said, “this prehistoric cave, the Cromwellian village, what’s left of Romford and London, those are all…” She trailed off, unable to find the words to finish her sentence.
“They are all shards of space-time,” Merlin said, “from our shattered timeline.”
“So that means… now, the whole world is like a big jigsaw puzzle, but made up of pieces from different times?”
“Yes! That’s an excellent analogy.” Merlin looked relieved.
“But then…” Amber was almost afraid to ask her next question. “Where are all the other pieces?”
The scientist hesitated before answering.
“I simply don’t know.”
No one spoke for the rest of the night.
40
Amber jumped when Blake placed a hand on her shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded.
“Nothing. Everything’s alright,” he said, “but it’s time for us to move out. Your friend Merlin is waiting outside with the young savage.”
Even half asleep, Amber couldn’t miss the lack of warm and fuzzy on the words “your friend, Merlin.” She sat up on her elbows and looked at Blake.
“He’s a good guy,” she said quietly. “I think.”
“That he might be, but he’s also stark raving mad.” Blake shook his head. “All of that nonsense he was spouting last night. Don’t tell me you actually believed him.”
Amber raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a better explanation?” she asked. “You didn’t want to believe me when I told you that time had changed. You believe me now, don’t you?”
Blake didn’t reply.
“Then why can’t yo
u believe Merlin?” Amber heaved a frustrated sigh. “Blake, you need to get with the program, or you’re going to be the one losing his mind. There are brontosauruses in the Thames, dire wolves in Romford, pterosaurs in Colchester, and who knows what else out there. You saw what came out of the lake last night. You know I’m right. You wouldn’t have come after me if you didn’t.”
“No… you’re quite right.” Blake ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just… it’s madness, what that man said. Utter madness.”
“It’s also the only vaguely plausible explanation anyone’s offered so far, the only one that makes any sense.”
Blake was silent for a moment before finally nodding. Amber wasn’t totally satisfied, but it would have to do for now.
Outside the cave the indigo sky was just starting to soften to blue. Blake and Amber quickly woke up Nellie and Harcourt, and they gathered their things. In a matter of minutes, they were all on their feet and making their groggy way out of the cave to join Merlin and Cam.
The rovers dutifully identified their path with discreet flashlight beams, and Merlin led the way. They hiked south, giving the primordial lake a wide berth, and eventually emerged from the forest just as the sun was edging above the horizon. Stray skeins of geese streamed across the morning sky. The wide countryside beyond was heartbreakingly beautiful and inviting, like something out of a painting.
“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” Nellie said in a low whisper.
Amber nodded in agreement, although now she was morbidly aware of how little cover it offered them, and how completely visible they would be to anyone or anything that might be stalking them. She looked back.
Blake brought up the rear, constantly sweeping the horizon for any potential threats. Cam stayed close to Amber and Nellie. Merlin strode ahead at a healthy pace, eager to reach their destination. Harcourt seemed oblivious to any danger as he stamped along unhappily, clutching his coat with one hand and holding onto his hat with the other to keep the wind from plucking it off his head.
Fortunately for all of them, so far nothing fiercer than field mice and wild rabbits seemed to be lurking in their vicinity. They hiked onward, time passing swiftly. For the most part, no one spoke. Everyone seemed lost in his or her own thoughts, or maybe just shell-shocked.
“How far do we still have to go?” Nellie whispered after a while, but Amber could only shrug.
“Let me talk to Merlin.” She increased her pace and sidled up to him.
“So why did you park your car so far away?” she asked. He smiled, getting the joke.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he replied. “There wasn’t a lot of choice, really. I rushed to Britain looking for some of my colleagues at the Greenwich Royal Observatory—only to discover that I couldn’t locate my friends, the observatory, or London. There was scarcely any trace of civilization anywhere. So I decided to head back to my lab, but it would be a long trip and I knew I wasn’t going to make it very far. The generators needed to recharge, so I needed to find a place to stow the ship somewhere safe and out of sight.”
“That makes sense.” Amber considered his words. “But why did you leave the ship at all, if you got a good look at how messed up everything was outside?”
“Ha!” He snorted. “I’ve been asking myself the same question a thousand times since. I was a fool to go out on a reconnaissance, let alone go out without any sort of weapon. In my defense, though…” He paused, heaving a sigh. “Well… it’s been quite a while since I had the opportunity to go for a walk freely in the open countryside. Unfortunately, I didn’t get very far before a patrol of Cromwellians came upon me.
“Their hostility was quite a shock,” he continued. “I didn’t expect to run into any other people, but just in case, I wore a simple black robe. That way, I could pass myself as a druid to the pagans, and a monk to the Christians.” He shook his head, smiling at his own naivete. “So much for that plan. I underestimated just how seriously the Christians took their theological divisions—and how viciously.”
Amber nodded. The thought of Stearne was still fresh enough to bring up a sharp twinge of anxiety. How much further to safety?
“And then, of course, there was this hard-to-explain matter,” he said, pointing to his starry eyes with a wry smile. She gave him a nervous little sidelong glance, then turned her head away again, embarrassed.
“You know, I hope you don’t think this is rude, but I keep meaning to ask you about your eyes—only I never think of it at a convenient time. Um… you’re not an alien, are you? Does everybody in the future have eyes like yours?”
“Oh no, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one,” he replied. “I probably should explain to everyone a little later, once we’re all safely aboard.” She was relieved he wasn’t offended, and pleased to finally address the elephant in the room.
“Do you know how much longer we have to be out here?” she asked.
“It’s not too much farther now,” he replied. “No more than—”
Abruptly the two remaining rovers began beeping and swirling around his head and shoulders, projecting holographic data.
Multiple contacts
Presumed hostile
1500 meters and closing
Merlin stopped in his tracks.
“Show me.” The drones dropped down to eye level and jointly projected a viewscreen. It showed the company of Roundhead horsemen, and the face of their leader was all-too-clearly visible.
“Stearne,” Amber breathed.
“What’s going on?” Blake caught up to them, his expression tight with concern. Amber pointed at the viewscreen. He nodded grimly and turned to the others.
“We have company, and we’ve been spotted!” Blake shouted. “Run!”
They broke into a sprint across the open country, Cam falling into step beside Amber and Nellie. He soon fell back next to Harcourt as the man was outpaced by the rest of the group. He slung an arm around the Victorian to make him move faster.
“Make for that rise ahead,” Merlin called out. “My ship is just beyond it.”
“You heard the man,” Blake hollered. “Move it!”
The sound of hooves became audible from behind. Amber risked a quick glance over her shoulder and saw the horsemen thundering toward them. The sight spurred her on, despite a growing stitch in her side.
The ragtag group crested the low rise without daring to stop, but just as suddenly found they no longer had any choice in the matter.
No more than a dozen yards away, a new shard spread out before them. Judging by the scent of saltwater, this one contained nothing but a chunk of ocean, but if so, it was now a stranded inland sea. It stretched for miles.
There was no sign of a ship anywhere.
Amber’s heart sank. Now what?
Blake stared for a moment, then turned on Merlin. He grasped the man by his shoulders, nearly lifting him off his feet.
“Where the hell is the ship you promised, you bloody bastard!” he roared in Merlin’s face. “You dragged us all this way to an oversized lagoon for nothing? You’re a madman.” He turned to the others. “We’ve been following a madman!”
“Wait! You don’t understand—” Merlin began.
Whipping back around, Blake seized him around the throat with white-knuckled hands and squeezed.
“Stop it, Blake!” Amber cried. “You’re going to get us all killed!” She threw herself between the two men, pulling at Blake’s arms until he let go of Merlin’s throat. She could see the effort it took for him to choke down his rage as he fought to control himself
“We’ve got to get out of here, now, or we’re all dead,” he said through gritted teeth.
Coughing, Merlin rubbed his throat and held up a hand.
“Listen—the ship is here,” he said, his voice a hoarse croak. “I don’t understand the delay, but I promise, it’s here.”
Harcourt burst in, his voice laced with panic. “Good god, man, there’s no time! Have your flying spheres create something for u
s to hide behind. They’re nearly upon us!”
But it was too late.
The Roundheads were already there.
41
Twenty armed riders lined the crest of the rise above them, Stearne in the forefront. Amber’s throat tightened with fear.
“No one move,” Merlin murmured under his breath. “Everyone stand perfectly still. Cam, ní gwaya ar bí. Harpo, stand by to run mirror maze program on my mark. Groucho, stand by to run shock and awe program on my mark.” The Roundhead horsemen gathered in a rudimentary formation on the ridge, unmoving and silent.
“What’s going on? What are they waiting for?” Nellie hissed.
“They’re trying to intimidate us,” Blake said tersely.
“We need them to come closer,” Merlin whispered. “No one move. If we stay here, it will force them to come to us.” For long moments that seemed to stretch on forever, no one moved.
“Come on,” Merlin urged them softly. “Come down a little closer…”
Nothing.
“What now?” Blake whispered.
Abruptly Stearne gave a slight wave, and the company urged their horses down in a line, staying in tight formation.
“Yes!” Merlin breathed in. “Harpo to my left, Groucho to the right.” The rovers rose two meters, taking position on either side of him.
“Now,” Stearne yelled. The soldiers drew their pistols and opened fire with a thunderous salvo. Harpo burst into a splintering cloud of metal fragments. Groucho instantly moved right, but only got a few meters before it also took a hit, plummeting to the ground. The witch hunter snapped his fingers and his horsemen holstered their spent pistols. Each drew a second or slipped a musket from the saddle scabbards. A moment later they stirred their horses forward again, down the incline to swiftly encircle their exhausted quarry, guns trained on them. The six were entirely hemmed in, their backs to the water.
“I need more time,” Merlin murmured quickly. He gestured strangely, with slow, deliberate motions. “We’ve got to stall them.”