Time Travel Omnibus Volume 1

by Anthology

  “Look, a trumpet.”

  Talking about her mother made Gabriella think of the nuclear fires and she began to cry.

  Saul placed his palm on her shoulder. “Let’s play that game now.”

  Through her whimpers she nodded.

  Saul pointed at a shadow cast by a pole which marked the edge of the compound. There was a large circular transmitter come motion sensor come force field generator on top of a pole. “A tall skinny man with a big head. Your turn.”

  Gabriella looked around, searching for a shadow that hid a secret.

  IV

  Saul asked Gabriella hundreds of questions about what it had been like living above ground. They worried at how depressed this made Saul. Angelica disagreed. “No. It’s perfect. He has to care for the planet enough to sacrifice himself. She is making him love the life he could have lived. Because of Gabriella, he is mourning the things lost in the nuclear war.”

  “But it’s a lie,” barked Harrod; his eyes were red and there was a tremor in his voice.

  Soon, Harrod would no longer be useful. Angelica wished this was not the case because he had given so much to the project. He deserved more but he had been insufferable ever since the other children had been brought down. He complained, whined and questioned the tiniest details.

  “We have justified so many things,” Harrod continued. His words were addressed to no-one in particular. “We have robbed these children from their families and normal life on the surface. We lie to them every day. So many terrible things and there is always the possibility, that possibility we all hide from and never say out aloud. What if we’re wrong? When it comes down to it, everything we’re doing is based on a theory. Imagine we’re wrong?”

  Not ‘soon’, Angelica realized, ‘now’. She made the order after the meeting. She felt no guilt.

  Harrod’s last words were “forgive me”. The scientist who shot him wondered to whom Harrod had addressed his plea. Like most Baronists, he had not believed in God.

  V

  Saul still asked about Harrod many months later. He had been told that Harrod died heroically. “He saved all of us. There was a crack in the engine that generates energy for the entire compound. He sealed it but he died in the attempt.” It was a carefully chosen lie—to increase Saul’s admiration of martyrdom.

  Harrod had been the only teacher who had befriended Saul. He had been the closest thing to a father in the boy’s life. His absence left a void in Saul that nothing could fill.

  “Why can’t he just accept the loss?” Angelica asked one of the psychologists. “Isn’t it easier to adapt to death at that age? The other children are all coping with having lost their parents and they are dealing with it better than Saul. Why can’t he forget as well as they can?”

  Angelica was wrong about the other children. They had not forgotten about their parents; they just did not talk about them often. This was what they had learnt: if one person loses their parents and talks about it, everyone feels sympathy for them. When everybody has lost their parents, the person who brings it up does nothing but remind all the rest about their own pain.

  In other ways, Angelica was right. Saul was unable to talk to the other kids; he didn’t know what to say to them or how to be. His only friend was Gabriella and even she preferred playing with Ricky with the blond hair. She only played with Saul when Ricky with the blond hair was otherwise occupied. Saul knew this. It made him hate Ricky with the blond hair and it made him hate himself.

  VI

  “He doesn’t necessarily have to be a genius,” said Angelica to the rest of the council while looking through the results of the most recent academic evaluations. There was a hint of desperation in her tone. It was eight years since the other children had been brought into the compound and Saul was still scoring worse than most of them.

  The others at the table looked at her bleakly. They were among the brightest minds on the planet and they could barely understand quantum and temporal physics. To make breakthroughs, Saul needed to be more than just gifted. He needed to be a Mozart.

  “Maybe it will come with time,” said Angelica, trying hard to be positive. “He’s only thirteen.”

  Her optimism was a sham. There were only nine more years. Recently, she had started to have the sort of thoughts Harrod used to. She began to wonder if they had been wrong. Maybe in bringing Saul to the compound they had done exactly what they were trying to avoid.

  A consummate leader in all ways, Angelica did not let her doubts show. No-one doubted her conviction and it helped them to believe.

  VII

  Nineteen children in puberty—nine boys and ten girls. Flirtation and kisses were inevitable. Saul had vivid fantasies about Gabriella and Maia and Hanna and Thirumeni and Linda. Mainly about Gabriella because sometimes she leant forward and whispered into his ear. He would later remember the feel of her breath against his lobe. Sometimes, her body brushed against his. Sometimes he wanted to reach forward and pull her into his arms.

  A decade had gone by but things had not really changed. Gabriella still spent time with Saul only when Ricky with the blond hair was otherwise occupied. Saul still hated Ricky with the blond hair.

  Ricky with the blond hair’s full name was Richard Montcalm. He was beautiful and his memory was perfect. He also understood numbers and equations in a way that excited his teachers. Now, all that they learnt in their classes was science: nuclear physics, quantum mechanics, probability mathematics, temporal theory.

  The children were finally allowed into the section of the compound that had been off limits to them for the last nine years. They were introduced to the scientists who had been arduously struggling to build a machine that could send an object backwards through time.

  “We have no choice but to succeed,” the children were told. “Within ten years the force fields which protect this compound will run out of power and the radioactivity from the surface will kill us.”

  “Then why aren’t you working on a way to make the force fields draw power from something else?” Gabriella asked.

  “All we would do is buy ourselves time,” Angelica explained. “We are trying to reverse things. We want to make a time machine and send someone back in time to stop the war before it happens.”

  This was a beautiful idea to the children. Of course it was. They had grown up reading H G Wells and Jules Verne and Kurt Vonnegut. The books available in the compound had been chosen carefully.

  Ricky was fascinated and he boasted to the other children, “I’m going to do it. I’m going to find a way to make a time machine.”

  If anyone can do it, the other children thought, Ricky can. Saul hated him all the more for this and swore to himself then and there that he would do it before Ricky did. He might not be able to say exactly the clever thing that would make Gabriella laugh but this was something bigger and better. He would save the world. Saul began putting all his effort into assimilating all the temporal research that the scientists had done. After classes, he continued reading. He drew sketches and he made calculations.

  They all sighed with relief. They patted themselves on the back.

  “This is how it will happen,” Angelica said, nearly in tears. “This is how we will be saved.”

  VIII

  Saul worked and the other children worked. They learnt everything the scientists knew about temporal theory and they struggled to find a way. After two years of failed attempts, one child said in frustration, “Maybe it’s not possible.”

  Angelica only replied, “It is possible. We know it is.”

  “How can you be so sure.”

  She didn’t elaborate. They had all decided against explaining too much. If they told the children more, questions might be asked that no-one was ready to answer.

  All the children’s theories were examined closely, but especially Saul’s. They encouraged him whenever he was losing hope. However, try as he might, Saul could hardly even understand the things the scientist’s had taught them. Even what
had initially motivated him had dulled. He still hated Ricky but he had come to accept that Ricky was better than him at everything. He had even found a way to pretend he didn’t mind Ricky and Gabriella’s relationship. They had been together for half a year. Gabriella had even less time for Saul now.

  IX

  An image was the greatest breakthrough. Ricky succeeded in building a camera that took a photo, not of what was in front of it, but of what had been there twenty minutes earlier. It wasn’t sending an object back in time, but it was a step in the right direction.

  It bothered Angelica that this breakthrough had come from Ricky. It should have come from Saul. “Saul Baron. By his sacrifice we live. By his sacrifice we love. By his sacrifice we sacrifice.” She still said the prayer every night, struggling to keep faith despite what she saw right in front of her eyes. Time was running out.

  Eight years left. And then seven and then six. Still the camera was their only tangible achievement. Many in the compound still had faith in Saul even though he wasn’t a genius. They told themselves, he’ll be the one to make the final suggestion that will click things into place.

  Angelica was too rational for such blind faith. She had formulated another theory. Ricky will develop the time machine. Of course, it made sense. Ricky will develop it and Saul will be sent back in time and when all the members of the United Nations ask him, he will lie. Anyone can see how much he hates Ricky and he’ll have the choice of telling them about Ricky or taking the credit. He’ll think, I’m the one here. I’m the one who’s going to die of radiation sickness. Of course he’ll take the credit. He’ll say, I developed the time machine. I’m the genius.

  There were holes to Angelica’s theory, but she was no paradoxologist so she didn’t fret over the holes.

  X

  The explosions came—staccato constellations of fire against the force field accompanied by tremors in the earth. There were screams and confusion. The children had no idea what was happening. The council members ran to the weapons bunker. The force field would not stay up long. It had been designed to deflect surveillance, not weapons fire.

  While the others armed themselves, Angelica searched for Saul and Ricky. She had no illusions. The compound would fall and most of them would be killed in the attack. Those who weren’t would stand trial and either be sentenced to death or life imprisonment. Angelica didn’t fear death. She feared that now, just when they were so close to success, it would all fall to ruin.Three years, that was all the time they had left.

  Angelica found Saul, Ricky and Gabriella hiding between two buildings. They were staring up at the bursts of flame speckling the rapidly waning force field. “Listen to me,” she screamed over the deafening explosions. “We lied to you. We lied to you for all your life and you may never forgive us.” There were tears in Angelica’s eyes now. The force field had fizzled out of existence and she heard the rattle of gunfire. The future was falling apart around her. She continued screaming, desperate that Ricky and Saul would remember her words. “But even if you hate us, you must finish. Ricky you must build a time machine and Saul, you must go back in time to 2032 or all life on the planet will end. When you are taken to the surface, things might look fine, but they are not. In three years, if you don’t go back in time, the world will end.”

  An invisible force propelled Angelica forward. She slammed into Saul and they both fell to the floor. At first he thought she was dead but then he realized she was as stiff as a board. Every muscle in her body was tensed and her eyes were wide open and unblinking.

  Several yards away, a Hispanic man in black combat fatigues was pointing a stun rifle at them. His expression changed, jolted by shock. “Gabriella . . . Gabriella? Is that you?”

  XI

  “I never gave up looking for you,” Fernando Esposito explained when the chaos had died down. Gabriella stared at him blankly. “You don’t remember me,” he realized. “How could you? It’s been 12 years.”

  Fernando had never stopped looking for her. Even after his sister killed herself he had not given up. When Fernando had begun to discover that an unsettling number of children had disappeared in other countries on the same day as Gabrielle, he had started to coordinate his efforts with Interpol. Interpol had expected to find Gabriella and eight of the other children. They had not expected to find the rest. It was only later, when they had transported the children back to the Cape Town police headquarters that they took their names. When Saul answered, the man questioning them laughed. “What’s really your name?”

  Saul repeated his name and the man’s countenance became murky. He left and returned with a superior. The man had coal black skin and a thick moustache. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Saul Baron.”

  “It can’t be him,” said the man who had been questioning the children. “Saul Baron’s in America. He was probably just named after him.”

  The man with the thick moustache shrugged. “You know they found a research centre underground. I heard them say it was something to do with time travel.”

  “But . . .”

  “Look closely at his face,” he pointed at Saul with the back of a pen. “Age it a few years. Doesn’t it look familiar?” He did not wait for a reply. “Bring him.”

  “Follow me,” said the man who had been questioning the children.

  “No,” replied Saul. “I won’t go anywhere they don’t.” He pointed to Gabriella and the others.

  Two policemen grabbed Saul by the arms and dragged him out. They put him in a small room and the door was locked behind him. He was clearly in a prison cell. The only furniture was a bed, a chair and toilet. Saul sat down and tried to make sense of everything that had happened in the last few hours. The attack, the explosions, Angelica saying’ we lied to you’ and then seeing it was true as they were transported up to the surface—the surface that they had always thought was nothing but irradiated rubble.

  They had been led out of caves into a bitterly cold night. Icy Atlantic winds had knifed into the children’s cheeks as they were herded into a large van. They had not been given any explanations. Saul had looked out of the van’s window and watched as they drove into a city just like the ones he had seen on vid-screens depicting the ‘distant past’: tall sky scrapers with rows of flickering lights and hover cars weaving their way along magnetized roads.

  Now, in the prison cell, Saul wrestled with questions. What could be trusted? What couldn’t be? Who were these people? Why had he been taken away from the others? The silence terrified him. It was endless and hungry. He waited, whistling to himself and drumming his fingers against the tabletop to combat the silence. No-one came. Occasionally, he could hear people walking outside the cell and voices speaking. He could not make out anything; the words were muffled or in another language. All he could do was wait. Angelica’s words reverberated in his head. We lied to you?

  Why would they lie to us? How much had been a lie? He wished he could speak to Angelica and get her to explain things. She was strict, often harsh, but he could not imagine her lying without good reason.

  No-one came until much later and then it was a woman with a plate of food. “What’s going on?” he asked her. “Where’s Gabriella?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Why am I being treated like a criminal? I need to talk to someone!”

  The woman left the food and closed the door. Saul heard the click of the lock sliding back into place. He looked down at the plate. It smelt delicious. He grabbed the plastic fork and began downing the food. The flavours burst across his tongue; the heady richness was overwhelming.

  Later, he vomited.

  XII

  The next day the man with the thick moustache came into the room with a ration package. “Your stomach can’t take normal food yet. You’ve spent all your life eating these.” The man tossed him the silver packet. “Life without roasted chicken and cassava, you’ve missed out son.”

  “Where is Ga
brielle?”

  “She your girlfriend son? Good looking girl.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s with her uncle. He’s the one who figured out where they were hiding you. Insane if you think about it. Y’all have been right under us for over a decade and we had no idea.” The man paused and fixed Saul in a penetrating stare. “Did they tell you who you are?”

  “I’m not answering any questions until you tell me where I am and what’s going on.”

  “I can’t answer any of your questions, son. We don’t even understand what’s been going on ourselves.”

  “Why am I being kept here?”

  “Because you’re Saul Baron.” The man chuckled at himself because of the bewilderment on Saul’s face. “The fuckin’ messiah and you don’t even know it.” The man got up and began walking out.

  “Tell me something,” Saul begged.

  “Sorry son.”

  XIII

  The ration packs were the only thing that indicated the passage of time. Saul soon gave up on asking the woman who brought them questions about Gabrielle and the others. “Can I get a book?” He asked instead. She didn’t answer.

  Six ration packs (two days?) later, the woman entered the room with a different gait. She was glancing from side to side as though she was worried someone would catch her. “Are you really Saul Baron?” she whispered.

  He nodded.

  Her eyelids widened. “Could you . . . could you . . .” she began sheepishly, “Could you bless me?”

  This was even more confusing than the previous reactions to his name. He decided to play along. “I’ll bless you if you tell me why my name means so much to you.”

  “You saved us,” she replied. “I don’t know why they are treating you like this. They should have put you in the best hotel in Cape Town and brought you anything you want.”