by Joan Lennon
Patches!
You couldn’t get more than your immediate needs from the wall dispensers but she knew where her father kept the supplies he took with him to work out in the forest. She’d completely forgotten! How did she think she was going to manage without patching?!
‘I have to go back!’ she cried, but Hurple shook his head.
‘No time,’ he said.
‘Now, you won’t be able to feel my hand, but I’ll still be there so don’t let go,’ said Eo in a rush.
‘What do you mean? Why won’t I be able to feel your hand? What –’
‘There’s no time to explain –just trust me!’
Jay made a rude noise. ‘Yeah, like I’m really going to trust somebody who says, “Trust me.’ ”
‘She’s right, you know,’ Hurple commented. ‘That’s just what I say. Smart girl!’
Eo rearranged the Professor forcibly round his neck and glared at Jay. ‘Just hold on,’ he grunted.
‘It’s almost here,’ said the ferret in a strangled voice. ‘Can’t you feel it?’
Jay stared wildly about, seeing nothing, then…
‘Urg!’ she groaned, clutching the sides of her head. ‘My ears!’
Eo pulled at her arm. ‘We need to hold hands,’ he said urgently.
Adom’s eyes were squeezed shut and he appeared to be praying.
‘Come on, boy!’ Hurple barked at him. ‘Wake up and grab hold – unless you want to get left behind!’
Adom’s eyes snapped open and he grabbed frantically at Eo’s hand. Jay quickly took the G’s other hand.
‘Now what?’ she tried to say, but a sudden silence ate her words –just before the Traveller exploded noiselessly out of the sea. It took them where they stood, and disappeared.
It was a moment before the lighting sensors on the platform realized they were no longer serving a purpose. They shut themselves down, and then there was nothing left – no trace under the dark, distant sky.
7 The Throw of Market Jones
The G couldn’t make up their minds whether the Second Tide was going to be a success or a failure. The revelation that Eo had ended up with just some unknown boy from the First Tide, rather than the formidable skills of a demon-slayer and saint, had been bitterly disappointing.
‘Maybe there’s more to him than he looks,’ suggested Interrupted.
‘He looks like a yokel,’ grunted Market.
‘But maybe he’s a famous yokel?’
The three G searched their memories for any reference to ‘Boy Wonder Adom’ or ‘Young Adom the Demon Destroyer’. But they didn’t find anything.
The Gift of the First Tide was exactly the way he looked… just another boy.
So… would the situation improve this time round? Could the Kelpie Queen possibly have been too clever for her own good and sent the boy (the boys) to a place and time so advanced or powerful or wise that equipping them for the Final Challenge would be a doddle? Hope flared any number of times as the hours passed – even the fact that Eo and Adom had met up with any people still alive at all was a bonus.
It was a bit disconcerting, though, the way everything seemed to be taking place underwater.
As the darkness deepened on the beach, the G built themselves a fire, for light and warmth, but even more so for comfort. The world of the future was coming across as a very confusing place. They didn’t recognize many of the things they were seeing, and they weren’t all that sure what was being talked about a good part of the time, especially when Eo’s attention wandered – which it did rather frequently. He seemed to be randomly focused on the most unuseful items, like food and interestingly complex but obviously firmly attached wall panels. There certainly seemed to be a lot of technology about, though.
‘There’s bound to be something to kill Kelpies with among it all, don’t you think?’ muttered Market Jones.
‘Should he be spending so much time with the young female?’ worried Interrupted. ‘Surely nothing really powerful would be available to a child like that?’
‘On the other hand, a child might be willing to give him something, when a more cautious adult might not,’ said Hibernation.
‘He’s barely even met any adults!’ snorted Market. ‘Does the boy think he’s looking for playmates?!’
It was maddening.
It was hard to tell what the Queen herself thought of her throw and its outcome. She spent most of the Tide staring into her personal viewing disc. The way she was standing – weight on one leg, one hip relaxed, head hung down – seemed very peculiar, until they remembered she was part equine.
‘That’s what it is – she’s standing like a horse!’ whispered Interrupted at one point.
‘They can sleep like that too, can’t they – horses, I mean?’ said Market – not quietly enough.
The Queen’s eyes swivelled round. Without shifting her stance, she gave them an evil sidelong stare, drawing her lips back a little over her teeth.
It was the G who looked away first.
The hours wore on, the confusing images and unrevealing words passed before them as they bent anxiously over the disc and the weight of worry grew greater all the while.
Finally, according to the Tide Turn Calculating Device, time was almost up. The girl of the future led Eo and Adom back up to the surface, ready for the return of the Traveller – and still the G couldn’t tell what they had been given!
‘I’m sure we don’t need to worry – even the most basic bit of kit from a time like that would do the trick,’ said Interrupted.
‘That’s right. If the girl’s understood any of what she’s been told she’ll realize how important it is,’ said Hibernation. ‘She seems bright enough…’
‘I like the way she’s done her hair,’ murmured Interrupted.
Are you kidding? She’s practically bald!’ snapped Market Jones. Anyway, that’s hardly relevant!’
‘No… but I do anyway. Like it, I mean.’
The tide was fully low again, and from where they were standing on the shore, the G could see the white line of the waves showing a long way off. The moon appeared and disappeared behind racing clouds, pushed by winds high in the sky. Down at the level of the beach, however, the air was dead, and the giant vortex still made its presence felt.
Market Jones’s head ached. He moved away from the fire and stared into the night, needing to think, needing to make up his mind what he should do. The others had both had suggestions about what time he should aim the Traveller at, and whether champions, equipment or wisdom was what the lad needed most if he were to stand even a chance of saving them all. His own inclination was to have another try at finding a hero or heroine who could take over the mission – practically anyone would do – anyone with more credentials than a sixth-century nearly novice and a G child who clearly didn’t have the sense he was born with. How hard could it be, finding someone to fit that bill?
The Western Isles had produced any number of fighters, over the ages, who had routinely made short work of encroaching demons. It had to be so – otherwise the fabric between the worlds would have been ripped to shreds long, long ago. It had to be possible that they were going to win. It had to be. Didn’t it?
‘Interesting, don’t you think,’ the Queen’s voice sounded in his ear, ‘how every age has its weapons against us, and yet – we’re still here.’
Market lurched back with a strangled squawk. She was so sneaky – he hadn’t heard her coming at all! ‘What – have you found a way to read my mind?!’ He tried to make it sound like a joke. He didn’t really succeed.
The Queen didn’t answer, but her teeth glinted briefly in a bit of moonlight before the clouds obscured it again. It was still covered when the Traveller reappeared and sped to her hand, flying like a white ghost through the darkness. Market braced himself for tricks, but the Queen made the handover at once in a way that was almost tender.
‘She’s psyching him out,’ murmured Interrupted, watching from beside the fire. ‘Shouldn�
��t we help?’
‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ the Queen was saying. ‘All those champions, all those eons, and what have you achieved? You haven’t won yet. You aren’t looking at all likely to win now. We’re always there, just out of reach, just around the corner, ready to come in the instant your back’s turned. You’ll never win. Never.’
The Traveller in his hands was becoming heavier and heavier with each word. Market could feel his courage seeping away and his worst fears gaining strength. There was only so long you could hold off despair with jokes and smart-aleck remarks. There was only so long… what was that noise?
It was the government of his people.
The Head of the G and the Designated Companion were dancing, prancing about the fire like happy idiots, singing, ‘I say I say I say!’ When they were sure of their audience’s attention, they stopped and turned to face one other.
‘Did you hear the one about the two G who walked into a bar?’ said Hibernation.
‘No – tell me the one about the two G who walked into a bar,’ said Interrupted.
‘Two G walked into a bar,’ said Hibernation. ‘The third one ducked.’
‘Ah, but what do you get if you cross a shape-shifter and a blender?’ said Interrupted.
‘I don’t know – what do you get if you cross a shape-shifter and a blender?’ said Hibernation.
‘A G Whiz!’ shrieked Interrupted.
‘OK, but where does a G keep his armies?’ countered Gladrag.
‘I don’t know – where does a G keep his armies?’
‘Up his sleevies!’ said the Head of the G.
‘Boom-boom,’ said Interrupted.
Market couldn’t help himself – he started to snigger. Then he caught sight of the outraged expression on the Kelpie Queen’s face and he burst out laughing…
Hibernation scooped up the Calculating Device, took one look at the dial and cried, ‘Now!’
Market Jones made his throw with a light heart and a smile.
Inside the Traveller…
I want to scream – why can’t I scream? – am I screaming? –just a bad patch – hang on, then – everybody knows, you just wait out a bad patch – they don’t last forever – everybody knows that –just a bad patch –just a bad…
8 The Third Tide
Two figures stumbled along the rough coastline, scratched by gorse, tripped up by heather roots and hidden rabbit holes. Were they lost? No more than most of the other English soldiers combing the west coast of Scotland for the rebel prince. Were they deserters? Not necessarily. By chance or by choice, it was easy to become separated from your regiment when the mists came down or the thick woods hid one red jacket from the next. Were they bounty hunters? Of course. Since the collapse of the Glorious Rebellion, Bonnie Prince Charlie was the prize every foot soldier dreamed about – but short of that, any Scot would do.
Dead or alive.
At the end of this particular day, the two men made themselves a camp in the lee of some rocks by the shore. The dark night pressed in around them as they dozed, waking from time to time to feed the fire. The hours passed. There were no stars to be seen, and the moon appeared and disappeared behind flying clouds.
‘Smells like rain,’ grunted one, as he tried to get more comfortable.
‘It always smells like rain,’ grumbled the other. ‘God’s Teeth, I hate this place.’
That was when they heard the noise from the beach. The two men were instantly on their feet. They reached for their muskets and, peering intently into the blackness, began to load.
They crept away from the fire. As they came closer to the pebbly beach, the noise separated out into voices, complaining bitterly, and the sound of someone being sick. Whoever the newcomers were, they were making no attempt to be stealthy. It was hard for the soldiers not to make a lot of noise themselves on the pebbles of the shore, but their prey wasn’t paying attention, and the rain had also arrived, helping to mask the sound of their approach.
‘Oh, that’s all we needed – that’s perfect!. First we go on the world’s worst excuse for a holo-ride and then we get dumped out in the dark in some smelly mud and then – it rains! But of course – what was I thinking? It always rains on amazing adventures. So why can’t we have an adventure indoors? At least it doesn’t rain indoors…’ The voice was young and shrill, like a girl’s. And I landed awkwardly and it feels like at least two pockets’ worth of stuff is broken already!’ she wailed.
‘Oh, shut up,’ said another voice. ‘You were the one who insisted on coming! Anyway, it’s worse for Adom – at least the Traveller doesn’t make you sick every time.’
‘He wasn’t sick last time,’ grumbled the girl.
‘Yes, I was,’ said a third voice. ‘Your machine, um, dealt with it.’
‘I suggest heading for some dry land!’ Yet another voice, chirpy and odd. ‘Off we go!’
The soldiers crouched down behind some rocks, judging the progress of their quarry by the sounds of squelching, stumbling and complaining.
‘See? What did I tell you? The torch is broken.’
‘Are you sure you saw a fire? I don’t see a fire.’
‘Yes, I’m sure – it was up there under the trees. You can’t see it from here because the rocks are in the way’.
‘I’m soaked!’
‘Let’s try not to scare them, whoever they are. We want to be making friends here, remember.’
‘Now!’ hissed one of the soldiers.
Just as they leapt out, the clouds parted and the shore was lit up in the harsh glare of the moon. It glinted on musket barrels as the two men yelled, ‘In the name of the King!’
Three white faces swung round in astonishment and someone screamed. Then everything was happening too fast – the muskets swung wildly and at the same time something detached itself from one of the children and leapt through the air, shrieking like a fiend from hell. The soldiers reeled back, yelling, and the muskets flowered into a roar and a flash, once, twice. The first shot whined and sent up a stinging spurt of sand; the second made a thud. The devil became an army of sharp-toothed demons attacking the soldiers, biting and screeching and inflicting sudden excruciating pain on legs, ears, hands. In fear for their souls as well as their lives, the men dropped everything and crashed away into the night, the devil on their tails.
At first there was nothing. Then Eo shifted, just a fraction, and the pain took him over. It grabbed him in its mouth and shook him savagely, back and forth, again and again, so that he couldn’t find room to breathe, and then couldn’t remember how to breathe. And then stopped breathing completely. The pain kept on at him, battering, savaging, but gradually it didn’t seem to matter any more. Breathing, he thought, that’s the key. That’s what does it. If you don’t breathe, it can’t hurt you. Eo felt mildly pleased with himself for working that out, and then that feeling ebbed away as well and there was only…
Adom could see Jay on her knees, whimpering, and Eo seemed to have fallen over in the excitement.
‘Jay?’ Adom said. Are you all right?’
He sounded strange to himself and there were afterlights blurring in his eyes that made it hard to see. He’d never been so close to a lightning strike before, though he’d heard stories.
Are you injured?’ He started to stumble towards her.
‘No… What?… I need some light.’ Her voice sounded strange too. ‘My torch is broken. Get me a stick from their fire – a burning stick. So I can see…’
Adom was pretty sure the blurry light thing would pass off soon, but he didn’t fancy an argument with her just then. He went to do as he was told.
∗
Jay’s mind was racing.
She’d heard the thud as the musket ball hit Eo in the chest and the tiny gasp of surprise he made as he was flung on to his back. There was a Medi-kit in one of her pockets, as long as it wasn’t broken too, and there was medical information in her implant – but she was too shocked to think how to make use of either.
The last thing she wanted in the world was to touch him, but she did it anyway. As gently as she could, she levered him on to his side – but it was too dark to see anything properly with the moon half-hidden in cloud again, and his clothes were all soaked with seawater anyway, so how could she tell if there was something else staining his shirt, if there was blood?
I need light.
Where was Adom? And where was the wretched weasel when she needed him? He was the closest thing they had to an adult in this crazy outfit, but he seemed to have completely disappeared into the darkness. Gone mad, like everything else.
She heard Adom coming back with a sort of torch. He squatted down, looking into Eo’s face.
‘Not that side! Hold the light here, so I can see,’ she said, sounding brusquer than she meant.
‘Oh, Jay’ he said. His voice was hushed and hoarse, but he moved over to where she wanted him. ‘Did the lightning…?’
‘What? What are you talking about?’ Then she realized that of course he had no idea about guns. In his time they just hacked at each other with spears and axes and things. He was hardly going to be much help.
But at least he’d brought her some light. It flickered and spat and cast shadows, but it did the job.
If exit wounds were important to have, Eo was all set. The hole in his back was clear to see.
Adom held the torch closer. ‘What are you looking for?’ he whispered.
‘The bullet – the thing that hit him – we have to make sure all of it came out OK, because if bits stay in his body it’ll make him ill… There it is…’
She dug a metal ball out of the coarse sand. It was coated in blood. She looked at it stupidly, unable to think what to do with it now, unable to do anything else.
‘But how could such a little thing have killed him?’
How to explain? ‘It’s not the bullet just by itself that does it – it’s the force it’s shot at, out of the…’ She’d only just heard what he said. ‘Killed? Who’s killed?’