by Freda, Paula
"Caution and patience; fear that a wrong move may invite disaster. The maternal instinct is to protect the young. In the interest of the young, the mother avoids the danger in the first place, whenever possible. At least the human mother does. Enhance this instinct to permeate entire societies, and you have a civilization that avoids risks at all costs. That is what has happened to the human species. Plainly, Lord Hayden, it is beyond us to risk our lives."
Lord Hayden glanced at his emerald-eyed partner, an incredulous look on his face. "Surely in five hundred years technology has advanced to the point where you can dismantle the bomb."
"We could have dismantled it years ago. But that would mean traveling close to the earth’s core. Why, we might be buried alive in an earth slide, or plummet into a lava pit." Agnes’ face turned a bright red, and her fingers twitched nervously.
Lord Hayden felt disgust. "It is also true of most species," he said unceremoniously, "that a mother backed into a corner will fight to her last breath to save her young."
"You are correct, Lord Hayden. And that is why we have brought you here. As I said before, the pendulum has swung to the other extreme. The people of the earth are well aware of the sorry lot they have become. It is not the fault of our doctrine, but of its intemperate use. Nature did indeed give the female of our specie stronger powers of observation of details and more patience. More staying power and cautionary instincts. However, you are right. ‘He made them male and female,’ and it is time the pendulum swung back to midpoint."
She gazed at Elizabeth, a hopeful gleam in vividly blue eyes. "Bills have already been introduced that will modify our laws and program our schools to re-teach the traits of courage and the ability to face risk and the odds. These efforts will take time, and as of this moment, we only have three days—unless you, Miss Quinlan, and you Lord Hayden, allow us to transport you to the twenty-sixth century, to confront Kraton before he has a chance to plant the bomb. Our world’s future lies in your hands, Lord Hayden, and in yours, Miss Quinlan. What is your decision?"
It wasn’t fair," Elizabeth thought. Put that way, it wasn’t fair at all. She met Lord Hayden’s gaze and read similar thoughts. How did one refuse to save the human race from total annihilation? The answer, of course, was., one did not refuse." Hayden rubbed his jaw, noting that he desperately needed a shave. "Well, partner," he said, "what do you say? Shall we be heroes or cowards?" Emerald eyes sparkled.
CHAPTER FIVE
Inside the dirt cutter’s cockpit, Cyborg S20 patiently explained the workings of the control panel. Lord Hayden and Elizabeth absorbed as much as their mid twentieth century minds were capable of, and hoped that logic and common sense would supply the rest. Orderly to the last, the cyborg wished them well and left the cutter.
Lord Hayden peered through the canopy, past the serrated teeth of the long appendage meant to tunnel through the earth, and watched S20 climb into the airship that had brought them to this desert spot. Within a few seconds the airship lifted, then disappeared into the horizon. No one had come to see them off, despite the fact they might never return. No one must know of this mission, Agnes had warned them. In addition, if they were successful, it was imperative that no one in the past find out either. She had made them swear on their very souls. The secret must live and die with them. The people of the twenty-sixth century and the centuries following until the year 3000 must continue believing that the bomb remained active. Any other information, no matter how trivial it might seem to the two archaeologists, could affect the thinking and actions of individuals. Even one slight change was capable of creating drastic alterations in the time line, comparable to the domino effect. "Your lives as well might be affected, as they are already entangled with ours. If you are successful nothing will change of the present, except that next week the earth and the universe as we know it will still be here."
"And if we fail to stop him?" Elizabeth had asked.
Agnes replied, "Kraton’s bomb is tuned to the sound waves particular to linear time. Upon detonation it will disrupt those sound waves. And much like a bomb exploding causes things to blow up, Time will blow up, as simple as that."
"All of time?" Elizabeth said. "It sounds incredible. How can you blow up time?"
Lord Hayden seconded, "Time is not a tangible; how can you explode an intangible?"
"What is left when a bomb explodes?" Agnes asked.
"Pieces," Hayden replied.
"Precisely... pieces," Agnes said. "You and Miss Quinlan may find yourselves sitting beside Napoleon who may in turn find himself sitting beside Caesar, who in turn may be sitting beside me. Chaos, my friends. Total chaos. The dead will indeed rise from their graves, as time as we understand it, comes to an end.
"On the other hand," she continued, "if you are successful in deterring our madman from planting the bomb, you will be returned to your century, at exactly the same moment and place you were taken. You realize, we almost snatched you inside Psyche’s tomb, but you were both too quick for us."
"But that was a year ago," Elizabeth said.
"A year to you, Miss Quinlan. A few minutes to us, to readjust dials and reset coordinates, and pinpoint your next exact location."
They would know! The thought rose in Elizabeth’s mind, and she asked "What about Psyche, and the opal, and the Totem? Are Professor Eldridge’s theories correct, or did you engineer all three to snatch us?"
"I told you we dared not interfere with the past for fear of changing the future. We merely used what was available."
"Am I Psyche, and Lord Hayden, Eros?" Elizabeth pressed. "I can tell you no more. We may already have influenced the past, and thereby the future adversely by bringing you here. Hurry and accomplish your purpose, so we can return you to your time, and avoid further risk." She refused to say more and ordered them airlifted immediately to a bleak spot in the Nevada Desert where a dirt cutter waited. What for them was an unexpected and spontaneous adventure had been in effect long in the planning and execution.
Lord Hayden turned from the dirt cutter’s canopy to glance at his partner beside him. Somewhere between entering the Totem and the year 3000, she had lost her veiled hat. "All set?" he asked.
"All set," Elizabeth confirmed, taking the copilot’s seat and strapping herself in. Hayden fitted himself into the pilot’s seat and buckled on the safety belt. "All right, go on, push it. And good fortune to us."
Agnes, herself, had programmed the ship’s computer. S20 had checked and rechecked its memory banks. All was in order. "Right," Elizabeth said, pursing her lips, and without further ado, depressed the prominent red button on the control panel. The engines hummed.
The dirt cutter sat horizontally on a steel plate and supports. The plate tilted slowly downward until the vehicle’s mouth and serrated teeth pressed against the sand. The engines hummed louder. The serrated teeth turned, slowly at first, then with increasing speed, became a churning blur that drove hungrily downward, spewing and spraying sand as it funneled into the earth. The two archaeologists clutched the arms of their seats and held their breath as the desert swallowed them. Lord Hayden shouted over the grinding hum, "Grace, if we survive this adventure, will you marry me?"
"W-what?" Elizabeth shouted back, her attention riveted on the incredible scene spooling outside the cockpit window.
"Will you marry me?
Elizabeth tore her gaze from the canopy. Had she heard right?
Lord Hayden searched her face, his own deadly serious.
She stared at him, shocked and incredulous. Oh yes, her mind shouted, yes! Had not she invented her new identity to make him find her so attractive and desirable that he would allow her to be near him, share his adventures, and yes, oh yes, his life, indefinitely. A chuckle not meant for him left her lips. She was laughing at the mental image of Professor Eldridge closeted in Lord Hayden’s arms. From the bruised expression on his face, Elizabeth realized he had misinterpreted her chuckle as ridicule, and as he returned his gaze to the canopy, was chiding himsel
f that naturally, it was a ridiculous idea.
The engines had slowed and softened to a loud hum. "I think that you should marry Elizabeth. She loves you, though I’m sure you’re aware of that already." The cutter’s speed slackened from a hundred miles per hour to a controlled fifty. Elizabeth smiled ruefully. "Beauty is skin deep, and in time it will fade. My hair will turn to gray, my face wrinkle, my body sag, just like yours will. Minds outlast youth. And Professor Eldridge’s mind is beautiful." She noted the shock on his face. He would probably never ask her again. He seemed about ready to swear at her. "I’m sorry, Lord Hayden, though flattered that you asked me. Very few, if any women, have received that honor. Am I right?"
"I never found one that made me want to ask," Hayden replied. He turned away, angry and hurt. He had spent months wanting her. Furious when she had left him in Luxor, he had cooled down sufficiently by the time he returned to the States to reason that she was not and never would be a short-lived affair. With Grace, it was all or nothing. When she decided to give her love, it would be to one man only, and she would expect as serious a dedication from the man of her choice. He had forgiven her when he realized her motives for leaving.
Professor Eldridge’s brief, sporadic tidbits about Grace’s whereabouts had taunted and tormented him. Yet even by the end of the year, he had not fully realized how much he needed Grace. Seeing her again in New Mexico, and their adventures together since, had broken through all his resistances. For the first time in his egocentric life, Lord William Hayden had met a woman who made him want to propose. Fate has a way of getting even with dodgers. Now it was his turn to love and not be loved in return. It was his turn to be scoffed at and considered slightly daft. His turn to hear words of rejection softly spoken in a patronizing tone.
An hour passed during which Lord Hayden stewed silently, distracting himself periodically by checking the speedometer and the timeometer, a dial that S20 had explained measured and registered the passing of years. The dirt cutter besides burrowing into the earth was hurling them into the past. A panel board screen displayed a graphic of their descent, layer by layer.
The cyborg had explained that sound wave technology had dominated for the past five hundred years and computer technology only lately been reimplemented. Lord Hayden was not totally unacquainted with computers. They were not totally alien to the 1940s, but were huge, experimental machines. The words "Electronic" and "Computerized" existed mainly in the lab. S20 had assured them that within their lifetimes, those two words would become household terminology. Historians regarded the twentieth and twenty-first centuries as the most productive and inventive.
The engine slowed as the cutter plunged into open air. Minutes later, it sunk its nose into another patch of earth, and then dropped on its belly. Lord Hayden and Elizabeth scanned the outside view. For a moment, they thought they were in hell. Intermittently, fires burned from the ground up. Lava pools littered the underground cavern. The earth here was amber-colored and it sizzled. Dirt tossed and squirmed as if alive.
""Where did S20 say the oxygen masks were located?"
"Under the seats," Elizabeth answered.
"We better put them on." This was as far as the cutter would take them, or as far as its program would allow. To go further would be to place the lives of its passengers in danger. The timeometer registered the date as June 20, 2500. "We have one day to reach the spot where our madman will plant the megatime bomb."
S20 had given them a map of the underworld during their trip to the Nevada Desert. Lord Hayden spread the map open on the dashboard. A red line marked the lava pools and led to a circle approximately three miles from the landing site. A sixty-block walk, Lord Hayden reflected, and only twenty-four hours to accomplish it, and get some rest before confronting the killer. "We better get started," he advised, unstrapping himself.
CHAPTER SIX
The two archaeologists exited the cutter via the side hatch. To say that it was hot was the understatement of the millennium. The computer had landed the ship near some rocks, their rough, ebony surfaces gleaming with blistering moisture. "I don’t think we’ll need the oxygen masks just yet, Lord Hayden said, slipping his off. Elizabeth followed suit. Keeping close to the rocks, away from the lava pools and the sizzling earth on their left, the duo walked for hours in the red, sweltering haze, checking the map every quarter mile or so. When they at last reached the spot where Kraton intended planting the megatime bomb, they were both exhausted and drenched in sweat. Elizabeth plopped down on the ground. "Oh, my aching feet," she complained, slipping off her boots.
Lord Hayden sank down beside her. "Now we wait. Eight hours are left before our madman arrives. I, for one, intend catching a good night’s rest." He shrugged off his backpack, then opened it and took out an alarm clock, small and round with two metal gongs. He wound it and set the alarm. "Go to sleep, Grace," he said, amused at the whimsical look she cast him. He stretched out, and pulling his hat forward so that it covered his face, he immediately fell asleep. Elizabeth regarded him lazily, and then smiling, she stretched out beside him.
The alarm went off seven and a half hours later. Sometime during their sleep, Lord Hayden had rolled close to Elizabeth and unconsciously slipped his arm about her shoulders, and she had cuddled close to him. Waking to find her in his arms, he gazed at her lovingly. Her red-gold hair was tousled and splayed across his arm. A few moist wisps hugged her temples and cheeks. He failed to remember a time when he had not held her just so, nor a time when he would not want to. He knew he was in love with her. Not infatuated or attracted, but in love. He had been waiting all his life for this woman.
He blew gently on her cheek, and she stirred. "It’s almost time," he whispered.
Elizabeth felt loath to move, feeling warm and safe, as she had not in a long while, not since a babe in her mother’s arms. With a start, she remembered whose arms they were. She blinked away the drowsiness and looked into Lord Hayden’s face very close to hers. To remain in his arms, to cradle his face in her palms and bring her mouth close to his, these were desires she must squelch at this moment, perhaps forever. She turned her thoughts to her need for nourishment. "Gosh, but I’m hungry," she murmured.
Lord Hayden laughed, "Hungry, huh?" Drawing his arms away reluctantly he sat up and rummaged through his backpack. "Have an oatmeal bar," he said, offering her one. Emerald eyes lit. She accepted the bar and sat up. Lord Hayden took one for himself. He held it up. "Here’s to yesterday, today and tomorrow," he toasted. Elizabeth joined him, smiling, and they clinked bars.
Half an hour to the second, the madman arrived. He came in a closed vehicle that was a cross between a van and a tank, advanced technology for Lord Hayden’s time, and ancient for the year 3000 AD. Judging from its appearance, dirt-encrusted and dented in a hundred places, the trip had not been easy. The two archaeologists flattened themselves against the rocks; he must not see them until they were ready to confront him squarely.
Clad in a dark leather jumpsuit, Kraton, tall and slim, emerged from the vehicle. He wore an oxygen mask over his face. His fingertips glinted in the red haze permeating the cavern. Lord Hayden strained to see better. Kraton wore leather gloves with round metal fingertips.
Elizabeth whispered, "Well, gloves have evolved nicely.
Lord Hayden squared his shoulders. It was now or never. He started forward. Elizabeth caught his arm. "Perhaps he’ll listen to reason if we tell him that the doctrine is up for modification?"
It was worth a try. "Stay here," he said. Before Elizabeth could protest, he added quickly, "He doesn’t like women!"
Elizabeth pursed her lips, but she saw the logic of his request. "All right," she agreed, grumpily.
Lord Hayden gently brushed her chin with his knuckles. "Good girl," he praised. Elizabeth hated when he did that. It made her feel simpering and naïve. She glared at him, but Hayden had already turned and moved forward into the clearing, in full view, his hands held high. He hoped that gesture had retained its meaning over the
centuries, yet how did one greet a madman who was about to exterminate time? Lord Hayden shrugged. "Hello," he said in the most pleasant tone he knew.
Up close, Kraton appeared even leaner and taller. The eye-holes in the oxygen mask revealed coal black irises. His hair was blond and reached to his shoulders. The combo of black eyes and blond hair filled Lord Hayden with a bizarre feeling. Kraton? "Creighton?" Lord Hayden asked, bewildered.
"Care to identify yourself before I kill you," the other replied, raising a gloved hand, fingertips glistening.
"You’re Oscar Creighton, aren’t you?" Lord Hayden asked in a baffled voice.
The dissident pulled off his mask. "I am Thomas Kraton," he replied impatiently. "As in crocodile." Creighton is an archaic form of my surname." He pointed a shiny fingertip at his intruder. Lord Hayden ducked, realizing the metal caps were an advanced form of firearm. The laser beam sprayed above his head and burst against the rocks, barely missing Elizabeth.
"Now just a moment," Lord Hayden entreated, straightening, and keeping his hands up. "I have a message for you from Agnes."
"Agnes? My Aunt Agnes?" Kraton inquired, puzzled. "But she was put to sleep five years ago."
Lord Hayden grimaced. The future did not bode well for senior citizens. "No, not that Agnes." He had forgotten that his Agnes would not be born for another five hundred years. "Mayor Agnes of the year 3000 A.D.. The megatime bomb you came here to plant is no longer necessary. Reforms are being implemented. The doctrine has backfired. Now the equality of the sexes will be restored. The future belongs to both."
"Who is hiding against the rocks?" Kraton demanded.
"My partner, Miss Grace Quinlan."
"A woman?" he inquired with bold contempt.
"Yes, well, she just came along for the ride," Lord Hayden sought to appease.