Eschaton

by Andrew Hastie

  ‘I have orders to remove you from this place.’

  ‘To the tower no doubt?’ she said mournfully. ‘I know what is to come.’

  The colonel smiled, taking off his bandolier and his sword belt. ‘I don’t think you would believe me if I told you.’

  He stepped forward, letting the tip of her blade press into his chest. ‘You are Anne, the granddaughter of John Throckmorton, cousin of Sir Frances, the conspirator?’

  Her jaw lifted defiantly, and her eyes narrowed. ‘I am.’

  The colonel pointed to her necklace. ‘And that, I believe, is a family heirloom?’

  Her fingers went instinctively to the silver chain around her beautiful pale neck.

  ‘As is this sword,’ she said, pushing the blade into his coat. ‘They are all we have left.’

  The colonel took off one of his gauntlets and touched the blade. ‘A fine weapon, one I have no intention of taking from you, but I do need you to take me to him.’

  ‘Sir Frances? His body is in the family vault. Which I’m quite sure is being desecrated as we speak.’

  ‘You misunderstand.’ He grasped the blade tightly, blood seeping through his fingers as he opened its chronology.

  Josh watched as more paths coalesced around the colonel’s timeline, connections coming together into a series of incidents until the route that he took Lady Anne shone out like a lit fuse amongst the dark mass of lost moments.

  74

  Choices

  [Warwick, England. Date: 11.583]

  The priest was on his knees in the cramped room when the colonel and Anne appeared. If he had any doubt about his faith, it was doubled by their sudden arrival.

  While the cleric cowered on his knees, the colonel took the sword out of her shaking hand. She was still getting over the shock of travelling back sixty-five years.

  Josh looked back at the trail they’d created. There was a structure now, a rudimentary spine running through the colonel’s timeline with smaller, subsidiary events collecting around it as his history fell back into place.

  ‘How?’ asked Anne.

  ‘There’s no time for that now,’ said the colonel calmly, taking out his almanac and checking his tachyon.

  ‘What year is this?’ he growled at the priest.

  ‘Year of our Lord, fifteen eighty-three.’

  ‘Where is Sir Francis?’ he barked.

  ‘In the library,’ stuttered the priest, ‘with his brother.’

  Josh realised that the colonel’s uniform was gone, leaving him in the travel robes he wore beneath. His wife-to-be, on the other hand, was wearing nothing but her necklace.

  The colonel turned the sword on the quivering cleric. ‘Padre, I’m afraid we need to borrow your cassock.’

  The library room came together like pieces from a jigsaw, the books, the furniture and wall hangings snapping into place. Two men were sipping wine when the colonel burst in.

  Thomas rose, his sword drawn, ready to strike. Sir Francis remained seated, a large pile of letters on the desk before him.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ the colonel said calmly, ‘stay your swords. I am not here for you.’

  ‘Who are you?’ demanded the younger man.

  The colonel turned to Anne. ‘My lady, may I introduce your grandfather’s cousins, Sir Francis and Thomas, both of whom are plotting to assassinate her majesty Queen Elizabeth and replace her with Mary.’

  Anne’s eyes were wide, her hand gripping the necklace.

  ‘What kind of devilry is this?’ bellowed Thomas, raising his sword once more. ‘You’re working for Walsingham!’

  ‘She wears the pendant,’ interrupted his brother Francis. ‘Calm yourself, Thomas, let the man speak.’

  The colonel paused for a moment as if not sure what to do next.

  Josh realised that time had stopped; something was wrong with the stream of energy from the founder.

  He broke his connection with the colonel and looked up at Lord Dee, who looked worried.

  ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘The men in that room were plotting to assassinate Elizabeth I. The documents on the desk incriminate half the English nobility, those with Catholic sympathies. They’re linked to a spy, Bernardino de Mendoza, the Spanish Ambassador and Mary Queen of Scots.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Josh said and looked at the colonel. ‘So, I’m guessing he’s there to stop them?’

  The founder nodded. ‘He was, and in doing so condemned Francis to death.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘The ambassador was thrown out of the country, and the Spanish were not welcomed back into Court until after Elizabeth’s death.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like a big problem.’

  ‘The lack of diplomatic parlay was a precursor to the Gunpowder plot.’

  ‘Which was stopped.’

  ‘Perhaps it shouldn’t be.’

  ‘You want to change history?’

  ‘Many think that it may have led to a very different England, one who’s conquests and empire building would have been subject to the Catholic Church and unified under Rome. It would effectively have reduced the tension in medieval Europe — and stalled the sixth crisis.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘The escalation of conflicts.’

  ‘I don’t see how that will change anything.’

  ‘Let us see,’ he said, placing his hand back on the Infinity Engine.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I tell them that it failed?’ whispered Anne, while the two brothers hastily packed away their documents.

  ‘Because there are rules,’ the colonel explained. ‘Ones that cannot be broken without dire consequences.’

  ‘But they’re my kin.’

  ‘Who are plotting to bring down the Queen of England.’

  She crossed her arms. ‘And would have done so if not for some informant.’

  ‘It had to be done,’ the colonel said quietly. ‘The consequences of a Catholic revolution would have led to the most terrible civil war. Much worse than the one we have just left.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘It was you, wasn’t it? Who are you?’

  ‘My name is Rufius Westinghouse, and I am a Watchman.’

  ‘And what exactly do you watch?’ she asked sarcastically.

  ‘Time, my Lady. I guard the future.’

  In any other circumstance, Josh thought, she would probably have called him insane or had him burned at the stake — but he could see that she wasn’t afraid of Rufius, more intrigued.

  She nodded towards the men. ‘So they are to die then?’

  ‘Walsingham already has them under surveillance, so the best I can do is save some of their accomplices. My mission was to collect the documents and report on the movements of the Jacobite rebels.’

  ‘Then why bring me here?’

  ‘I couldn’t leave you to those animals — it was the only honourable thing to do.’

  Her expression softened. ‘Then may I ask what you intend to do with me?’

  As the colonel considered his answer, Josh felt the timeline splitting. They had reached a nexus point, and whatever decision the old man was about to make was a critical one.

  Two paths stretched out before him, one that led to marriage, the other to an altogether different future. This was an alternate in which his friend would never suffer the heartache and loss that Josh had witnessed, but where he would never meet another like Anne and spend the rest of his days as a confirmed bachelor.

  Josh hesitated, waiting for the colonel to decide — as did Anne. The connections to their life together were beginning to fade as he contemplated the options.

  ‘The documents,’ said Sir Francis, handing over the leather satchel to Rufius.

  The branches of time multiplied around him as the colonel held the heavy package in his hands, weighing the consequences of his next decision. Finally, he threw the bag to Francis’ brother. ‘Thomas, I think you should courier them to Philip directly.’

  ‘But what about Mendoza?’ protested Thomas.
<
br />   ‘He will be sent home shortly. It would be best if you were out of the country when that happens.’

  Anne nodded her thanks.

  The other paths disappeared, and their life together solidified. Josh could see all of the next ten years fall into place, leading up to the painful events that would end it.

  ‘Is there no hope?’ Sir Francis asked after Thomas had left.

  ‘None,’ the colonel said sternly. ‘Prepare yourself, and may God be with you.’

  [London, England. Date: 11.605]

  The undercroft beneath the House of Lords was dark and damp. Josh watched the colonel and Anne, now dressed in the travelling robes of the Order, as they moved through the basement tunnels towards the cache of gunpowder.

  ‘He’s taken her with him!’ Josh whispered to the founder.

  ‘His judgement is impaired, and his emotions are getting the better of him. Can you see how the lines bifurcate in the next few hours? This is the point where the plot is either foiled or succeeds.’

  Josh scanned the lattice of lines that were forming out of the black miasma. ‘Not very well. There’s too much interference.’

  ‘Move further back, see if you can find the source of the virus, and then we should be able to get a clearer picture.’

  Reluctantly, Josh left the gunpowder plot weaving back down through the years until he came to a massive dark cluster. It was a hard, crystallised structure that encased a weak glow of some critical event.

  ‘What is that?’ he asked, sharing the vision with the founder.

  ‘Apparently, it’s the day I discovered him.’

  When Josh drew closer to the dark structure, he was overwhelmed by the despair emanating from it. The feeling of dread reminded him of the Djinn he’d destroyed in the maelstrom.

  The cluster bristled with malice, as though it was carved from pure evil, filled with the terror and doubt that crept into his thoughts on the long, sleepless nights of his childhood.

  ‘It thrives on fear,’ the founder whispered. ‘You must overcome your self-doubt.’

  Easier said than done, thought Josh.

  He’d spent most of the last five years struggling to survive in a world that wanted to break him. Whether it was the daily challenge of caring for his sick mother, getting through school, or staying out of prison, he never knew if he was doing the right thing — and the truth was Josh didn’t think he had.

  Lenin had always preyed on this weakness, using it to make Josh question himself — keeping him down. He could feel the years of pent-up frustration turning into rage as he blamed himself for letting it happen. Everything from Lenin, his mother’s MS, the kids that teased him about his dyslexia — all the crap that he’d put up with ignited a fire within him and the power of the Infinity Engine enhanced it.

  He embraced the temporal energy, letting the countless possibilities flow through him, forging a connection between him and the continuum that made him feel invincible. Suddenly, his mind was no longer restrained by the laws of time, and the physical reality around him fell away as the infinite stretched out before him.

  The river of time wound away into the past, just like he’d seen in the colonel’s observatory, except now Josh could see how far back it went, the engine increasing his range, allowing him to look back millions of years.

  He left the flow, drifting out into the maelstrom, and realised that it was not the only timeline. Far off in the distance, he saw that there were others, like a forest of thin twisting trees. Glowing against the dark background of the maelstrom were hundreds of other continuums, some much smaller, others old and wiry or blackened and dying.

  And there, stretching out from one distant dead chronology, was the founder’s timeline.

  Confused, Josh returned to the colonel’s life and focused his energy on the darkness that encased it.

  When his mind touched the outer shell, he felt the effect of the dark energy, and it was so negative and empty, and filled with desolation.

  Josh attacked the emptiness with light, burning out the darkness with his anger, and as he did he realised it wasn’t rage at all, but a love of life — everything he’d worked for, everything he fought to protect was because he wanted to make a better life — for him, for his mother, and most of all, for Caitlin.

  As Josh took his hand away from the colonel, he could see the colour already returning to his cheeks.

  He turned to the founder. ‘Who are you?’

  Lord Dee looked exhausted. He placed the case on the side table and rubbed his neck. ‘Do you know why I founded the Order?’

  ‘To protect the future?’

  The founder stood up and walked over to one of the windows. ‘But from what exactly?’

  Josh thought about what he’d seen in Fermi’s facility and the devastating effect his obsession with technology had on the planet. ‘I guess from ourselves. We seem to be pretty good at messing things up.’

  ‘True. You’re a particularly self-destructive species, but that isn’t the reason. The future is like a delicate flower, an orchid, that must be nurtured and attended constantly, to ensure that we don’t repeat the mistakes of the past.’

  ‘Like wars?’

  He shook his head. ‘I speak of another past, from another continuum.’

  ‘How many are there?’

  The founder held up his hands. ‘The Egyptians have a phrase for large numbers; they say it’s “too many to count”.’

  ‘So, why did you leave?’

  ‘I had no choice. I am the last survivor of my time. We were once very similar to yours, a thriving civilisation with highly advanced culture and technologies. Our scientists were some of the finest minds I have ever encountered, comparable to those of Einstein and Hawking. We’d developed to a point that some in this timeline would call a ‘Singularity’, placing us a few hundred years ahead of where you are now.’

  The founder’s eyes grew sad and his voice sombre.

  ‘My quantum division had discovered new forms of energy in the universe, and we were on the verge of limitless power, releasing us from the reliance on dwindling supply of fossil fuels. And then the Nihil came.’

  ‘Nihil?’

  ‘They have many names, and we came to learn them all. They were from the maelstrom, a race of beings that fed on aetherium, dark energy, and my experiments attracted them — they decimated our world, collapsed the entire timeline — our entire history, as well as billions of lives, were lost.’

  ‘But you escaped?’

  ‘I did,’ he said sadly, ‘though it cost me dearly. I was working on a prototype of the Infinity Engine before they arrived, and I used it to create an escape route — into this universe. I’ve been trapped here ever since.’

  ‘And you think they’re coming for us? Is that what the Eschaton is?’

  The founder stared directly into Josh’s eyes.

  ‘They’re drawn to aetherium, something I have been trying to ensure was never discovered in the future of this timeline, but one that I believe you’ve already seen.’

  ‘Why are you telling me?’

  ‘Because if you are the Nemesis, then someone created you to help us defeat the Nihil. You may be the only hope this timeline has of survival.’

  75

  Copper Scroll

  Since each level of the Citadel was sealed off, every floor had its own refectory, and the third’s looked like it had been borrowed from one of the colleges at Oxford. He hadn’t seen Lord Dee since they’d cured the colonel and Josh had spent most of the last few days with Lyra, helping her to care for the old man. Caitlin appeared at meal times but was so obsessed with finding out more about the Solomon mission that they had hardly seen each other, and when they did, he never seemed to be able to get a word in edgeways.

  ‘How’s the colonel?’ asked Caitlin, sitting down opposite him with a tray of food.

  ‘He’s on the mend. Where have you been all day?’

  She grinned like a Cheshire cat. ‘Guess what I found
on the fifth floor.’

  ‘A swimming pool?’

  ‘They have a library completely dedicated to the Templars.’

  ‘How are they involved in the fifth crisis?’

  There was a fire in her eyes, and she looked at him with the kind of intensity she always got when she was trying to solve a problem. ‘It’s to do with awakening the elder gods — the fifths believe that the Templars discovered a treasure. They’ve infiltrated the brotherhood, but haven’t found anything significant. I think it’s got to be linked to what Marcus found.’

  ‘Because the first Templars were stationed in the ruins of Solomon’s Temple?’

  Caitlin looked impressed. ‘You’ve studied them too?’

  He nodded. The stories of the crusader knights had helped him through some of the worst nights of his mother’s illness. ‘Jacques de Molay, the Holy Grail, Saladin.’

  She laughed. ‘But you know it wasn’t about the cup of Christ, right?’

  ‘Yeah. I’m not a complete idiot. They were protecting a bloodline.’

  Again she laughed. ‘Not the Da Vinci Code, please tell me you don’t believe that?’

  Josh shrugged. ‘So, what do you think it was then?’

  ‘Gold. Or treasure maps, at least.’

  ‘Maps?’

  ‘Copper scrolls. You know they found all those jars full of scrolls in a cave?’

  Josh nodded, it was a bonus question once on University Challenge. ‘Dead Sea Scrolls.’

  ‘One of them was a list, locations of caches of treasure. When the temple was being ransacked by Nebuchadnezzar, Solomon’s treasure was broken up and hidden. The Augurs on the fifth are doing some kind of audit, trying to trace all of the artefacts.’

  ‘And you think they’re looking for something in particular?’ asked Josh, pushing his plate to one side.

  She smiled. ‘Remember Marcus said he found an out-of-place object?’

  ‘Like the computer thing in Greece?’

  She looked at him with a puzzled expression, and Josh realised she was never there. ‘Never mind. Wrong timeline. Carry on.’