by Al K. Line
"And if we don't?"
Amanda stared at Dale and wondered if he was really considering not doing something that clearly had to be done as it had, to all intents and purposes, already been done by them. "If we don't, then we probably cause a warp in reality and... Look, I don't know, but do you want to risk it? You saw all that craziness when we jumped before, inverted worlds and meeting ourselves, all the madness Tellan talked about, do you want to risk any of that happening? Getting caught up in any more insanity?"
"Absolutely not, it's why we haven't touched the bloody Hexad, isn't it? So we can try to carry on as normal, even though deep down we both know this isn't normal, or even real." Dale swept a hand across the room, indicating everything. The note fell from his fingers so he picked it up.
"What do you mean, not real?"
Dale sighed. "Amanda, look, let's stop kidding ourselves. This is all a lie. It's not our world. Things aren't quite right, are they? The little things, stuff like plants in the garden not where they used to be, the pub being different, countless things. They all make sense but they aren't how they were."
"That's just a byproduct of the time travel, isn't it? But it's still all real."
"Okay, it's real, it's just not our real. But we live with it as we have no choice, and now we will probably make it all a damn sight worse. Ugh, I can't believe we've done this to ourselves."
Amanda moved to Dale and hugged him. He was right, they'd messed up, but maybe it wouldn't be as bad as they thought. Maybe if they jumped and put the tin in the garden that would be it. No loops, the circle would be closed and everything would be all right. Or all right-ish, anyway. Amanda stepped back, feeling better after the closeness.
She sighed deeply, tried to feel brave and squared her shoulders. "Okay, what does it say?"
Dale unfolded the note and read, "Welcome to the Hexad experience. You guys are in for a busy day. Dale. p.s. How's the hangover? If I remember right then it was a bit of a mad night. Drink some more coffee, trust me, you're gonna need it."
"See?" said Amanda, feeling like her stomach was about to explode through her skin it churned and hurt so much. "We've disrupted things on an epic scale."
"Huh? I don't get it. The note doesn't make any sense."
"Dale, it makes perfect sense. You have to remember that we would have read it the day everything went crazy. If we'd dug it up that morning, the morning after we had the conversation, then it would make perfect sense. The us that buried that note thought we would dig it up then, but we didn't."
"Okay," said Dale, looking utterly bewildered, "then that means a different version of us buried it. That means we are in the clear, right?"
Amanda slumped into a chair, not knowing what was real or right any more. "Can I see it?" Dale handed her the note and she read it herself. "Well, it's your handwriting. You wrote it so that means you have to write it."
"What!? Look, this is just stupid. The other me, the one probably living my life right now, where everything feels right, he will write it, make sure everything is okay, won't he?"
"Dale, I don't know. I'm not sure of anything. But what if all the problems we had in the past, the stuff we don't remember, The Chamber and all that, what if part of it happened because we didn't put the tin and the note in the ground? Could it be one of those paradox things? I think we should, I think we should do it this very instant, just to be sure." Amanda stood, mind made up, and went and grabbed a notepad from the kitchen.
She handed Dale the pad and a cheap pen, then gave him the piece of paper. "Make sure you copy it exactly, word for word. It has to look like the one we already have."
Dale halted, pen poised just above the paper. "I'll use the one we already have, then we know it will be right, no mistakes."
"I don't think it works like that, Dale. It has to be written in the first place, so you have to write it. Otherwise it wouldn't make sense."
"Like this does," muttered Dale.
"Just do it. I'm going to get a tin. I think there's one in the cupboard." Amanda went into the kitchen and grabbed a tin from where she kept their snacks. There were a few chocolates left so she ate them quickly, for the first time ever not enjoying the favorite ones she always kept for last. As she went back into the living room Dale finished writing the note and held it next to the other, comparing.
"They're identical."
"Okay, good. Put it in the tin." Dale dropped it inside; Amanda put the lid back on. "Now we go and bury it."
"Argh, this is totally doing my head in. Are you sure?"
"Honestly? I have no idea. But it sounds right, doesn't it? Like what we would have to do to keep things in the correct order."
"I suppose so. Okay," said Dale, mind clearly made up, "let's just get this over with, and hopefully we can have a normal rest of the day."
"I hope so."
Amanda went to get the Hexad.
Peter
Present Day
Amanda stretched on tip-toes and reached for the towel they had wrapped the Hexad in before putting it on the top shelf of the wardrobe in the spare bedroom. She half expected it to not be there, that it was just a figment of her imagination, the bump on her head that fateful day scrambling her brain a little.
"Ah, bugger." The towel fell to the floor with a thud, unraveling as it hit the ground. The Hexad rolled out, all too real. "Oh well, wishful thinking I suppose." Amanda bent and picked it up carefully, staring at the flashing 3, the familiar, strange yet comforting feeling washing over her as though she was sinking into a hot spring. It brought back memories in vivid detail of the jumps they had made — when was it, months ago now?
Since then life had been odd, things not quite right. It was all those wacky meetings and conferences they had gone to, it messed with their heads, making everyday life surreal, a thin veil hiding the underbelly of madness that lurked in most people's minds, the willingness to believe in things they could neither see nor explain. The only problem was that the weirdness they believed in was nowhere near as weird as the truth.
Amanda walked back into the kitchen, lost in a daze. Why was she there? She shook her head and wandered into the living room.
"Stupid time travel. Ugh. Dale, shall we jump now and just get it over and done with? I think— Oh! Hello, Peter."
"Um, hi," said Peter. He stood in the middle of the living room, looking very confused. His eyes moved to the Hexad; pupils dilated fast. His face became instantly animated. "What's that?" He pointed at the Hexad as if Amanda wouldn't know what he was talking about otherwise.
Damn. What am I going to do now? I can't believe Dale didn't warn me Peter was here. Amanda gave Dale the daggers; he shrugged, as if asking what could he do.
"Oh, nothing, just some gizmo I found in the spare room." Amanda put the Hexad behind her back, aware she was looking as guilty as hell but not knowing what else to do. She gave Dale another dirty look then said, "Fancy a cuppa, Peter? Nice to see you, how are you? Dale, do you want one too?"
"Oh, er, yes please, that would be great. So, Peter, to what do we owe the unexpected visit?"
Amanda rushed into the kitchen while Dale tried to distract Peter, and opened a kitchen drawer ready to put the Hexad in.
"Oh no you don't," said Peter. "What's going on here? What's all this about time travel? You said you were going to jump."
"Hey, hey! Peter!"
It was too late, before Amanda had the chance to put the Hexad in the drawer Peter was beside her and staring at it. "What's that? Let's have a look."
"No, it's nothing, Peter, honestly." Peter grabbed for the Hexad. "Oi, hands off." Amanda slapped the back of his hand as he reached into the drawer.
"Ow! What the hell is wrong with you guys? I was just messing." Peter stared at Amanda, then at Dale. Amanda knew she was looking guilty, scared too, probably — if she looked anything like Dale then Peter knew they were definitely up to something.
He probably believes it anyway, he's mad for this stuff.
"I think we better go
and sit down," said Amanda. She picked up the Hexad, the offer of a drink forgotten.
~~~
Peter was one of those people that never knocked — as far as he was concerned, if the door was unlocked, and he knew you, then it was an invitation to come inside. Never mind the fact that he'd caught Amanda in the kitchen just in her panties. Or the time he'd caught Dale doing naked yoga in the living room the one and only time he decided he would get spiritual and bend at the same time, making Amanda laugh her head off as she dashed in after hearing Dale screaming, only to find Peter staring at his bum in shock while Dale attempted to get his hands flat on the floor keeping his legs straight, backside pointing at the door to the kitchen.
It didn't stop Peter — he walked in whenever he came to visit, helping himself to anything he fancied from the fridge, justifying it by saying that the same applied at his house. Only problem was, he never had any food and his house was insanely cluttered. When he was home, and not off at some convention or other, the curtains were always drawn as he didn't like daylight dictating when he worked, woke or slept — his justification for being a slob as far as Amanda was concerned.
Still, they both liked him, and he had become a real friend in the months after they first encountered him at one of the crazy conventions.
He seemed to spend most of his time on the road, dropping in at inopportune moments on his way to one strange meeting or another. Amanda didn't know how he could do it, Dale and her were frazzled after only a few months, he'd been at it for years. He was also one of the unhealthiest looking people Amanda had ever known. She prided herself on her appearance, even if she had little interest in fashion: she kept her hair salon-good at all times, always tried to have a nice tan in the summer, and wore simple but nicely fitted clothes.
Peter was the opposite, making even Dale appear well-groomed. Peter had waxy, pale skin from a lack of sunlight, had that puffy look to his face even though he was by no means overweight — more of a skinny-fat kind of thing — and had a lot of freckles that poked through thick, red hair on his arms. Oddly, he delighted in a full beard and the strangest haircut Amanda had ever encountered. His hair was bright red, just the hint of a curl, cut into a rough bob with the nape of the neck shaved to reveal surprisingly dense neck muscles from leaning awkwardly over his computer screens, or one strange device or another.
He was an unapologetic tinkerer of anything and everything electronic, often consumed for days or weeks at a time with something as simple as a toaster or as complex as a computer. Peter also loved coding, learning about anything even slightly esoteric, and was a firm believer in much that was discussed at the various meetings and conventions he traveled to almost non-stop.
He was so unhealthy looking as he really was unhealthy, living on a diet consisting of takeaways, buffet food and dodgy sandwiches from vending machines.
He was also a very nice man. Genuine. Amanda was glad to call him a friend.
Now she had to explain what on earth was going on — not easy when she wasn't sure herself. Still, it couldn't hurt to share what had happened with him, could it?
"Should we tell him?" Amanda stood in the living room, feeling awkward and in two minds about telling Peter anything. Would he just laugh?
Dale nodded from where he sat on the sofa. How could he look so relaxed? Didn't he know how serious this was? "Yeah, I don't see why not. It's Peter."
"What is all this, guys? You are seriously beginning to freak me out, you know that, right?"
Amanda fiddled with the Hexad nervously behind her back, the metal, now rather warm from her touch, reassuring her. She'd forgotten just how nice it felt to hold it, and that was not a good sign. She felt like Gollum, holding on to her "precious" and slowly going mad as it took her over, wiping away her mind as though her thoughts were written in chalk on a board.
Dale leaned forward and stared at Peter. He began to talk then stopped. "Haha, this is going to sound so weird. Um, Peter, we have a time travel device. We have jumped through time and space, we have saved the world, twice, apparently, and we have sent proof into the past, from the future, so we could dig it up today." Dale pointed at the tin on the coffee table.
"Chocolates? That's proof of time travel? Look, guys, this is all very funny and everything but the joke's gone far enough. What's with you two? Have you been taking drugs!?" accused Peter. "You have, haven't you? You're both high and you didn't save any for me."
"No, Peter, we have not taken any drugs, and Dale's telling the truth. It's a long story, very long, but I think we ought to tell you. Dale?"
"I agree. But you have to promise us, Peter, you have to promise you will never tell a soul as long as you live."
Amanda felt awkward. She felt ridiculous for telling the truth. It sounded so silly saying it out loud, like a bad joke. But then, Peter was a believer, or at least he wanted to believe — it was why he spent his life going from one convention to the next. Amanda brought the Hexad out in front of her, then walked over to the coffee table and put it down in the center.
The table needs to be polished again, the tin's scuffed it.
Taking a step back, she raised her eyebrows at Peter as if this was all the proof they needed to supply, then said, "Don't touch it, just in case. But feel free to take a look and then we'll tell you what's going on."
"Um, okay," said Peter. He stared first at Amanda, then at the Hexad, then at Dale, as if looking for confirmation of what they were saying.
Peter got up and knelt on the carpet next to the table. He squinted at the Hexad like he did when he was working on one of his technical projects.
"Okay, spill it guys, are you for real?"
It took a while.
Prove it Then
Present Day
Peter finished his third cup of coffee with a slurp and a smack of the lips, then put the mug down on the table. Amanda picked it up and put it on the coaster — again. She'd given up saying anything, it wasn't something that entered Peter's head.
Leaning back, Peter put his hands behind his head, scratching at his neck. "Okay, prove it then."
"You want to do a jump? Peter, have you been listening to what we've been telling you? How dangerous this all is? Now you want to jump?"
"Are you mad?" said Peter excitedly, getting up and shaking his legs — he hadn't moved the whole time they'd been talking. "Of course I want to jump. This is freaking amazing. Chambers and weird factories and parallel universes and people disappearing from the future and being chased by giants, it's what I've been waiting for my whole life. This is what I've been searching for, going to all those mind-numbing conferences and—"
"I thought you loved the conferences?" interrupted Amanda.
Peter stared at her like she was insane. "What? No, I hate them, full of a bunch of crack-pots. But I knew, I knew that one day something like this would happen. Now it's paid off. Come on, guys, you have to let me go with you at least. You have to do the tin thing, right?"
Amanda and Dale looked at each other; they both shrugged. Dale stood then picked up the Hexad. "Okay, let's do it then."
"What, now? Seriously?"
"Don't see why not. Now is as good a time as any. And besides, we have to do this, right, Amanda?"
"I suppose so, but I wish there was another way. Look, if we do this then we have to be sure that nobody does anything stupid or messes anything up for the future. We know what can happen if the world gets hold of Hexads. Do you understand, Peter?"
"Of course, of course, I understand. I'll be good, just come along for the ride. I can't believe we are about to do this. Man, I am so excited. I'll go get our shoes." Peter practically ran out of the living room.
"Are you sure about this, Dale?" whispered Amanda. "Are you sure we should do this at all?"
"You're the one that convinced me we had to send the tin, now you are having second thoughts?"
"I'm just scared. All those things we saw months ago, it was terrifying. I don't want to go through any of that again
. I don't think I could stand getting caught up in what we did but can't remember. How did we cope?"
Dale hugged Amanda tight, and made a show of taking in her scent, breathing deeply and burying his head in her hair. "Because we are a team, honey, and if we stick together we can make it through anything. Not even time can tear us apart."
"Oh, Dale, that is the sweetest thing you have ever said to me. I love you." Amanda wiped away a tear. She knew now wasn't the time, but Dale's words brought home quite how much she loved him. She couldn't help but wonder what the other him was doing, if he was doing anything at all.
Ugh, don't start thinking about that.
"You ready, guys? I've got the shoes." Peter smiled like a little kid given a huge lollipop, his paisley shirt dirty because he was cradling three pairs of footwear like his life depended on it.
"Ha, I suppose so. Come on, let's go jump back in time." Amanda smiled. All she felt like doing was crying.
"Yes!" Peter punched the air; he dropped the muddy shoes on the carpet.
"Peter! Look at the mess."
"Oops, sorry."
"Oh, never mind. Come on, let's get ready."
They sat at the kitchen table and put their shoes on. Amanda knew she was out of sorts as now there was mud not only in the living room but in the kitchen too — she couldn't bring herself to care, not really. While they got ready they discussed the best time to jump to, agreeing that to be safe jumping before they bought the house would be best, and to do it at night so nobody saw them. They knew the house had been unoccupied before they bought it, the owners having emigrated and left it in the hands of the estate agent.
Peter watched in fascination as Amanda adjusted the dials on the Hexad, then took hold of Dale's hand.
Dale held out his other hand for Peter; he took it eagerly.
"Ready?" asked Amanda, the familiar excitement building, along with the fear. Dale nodded and Peter saluted.
"Whooooooooooooooooooosh," went Dale.
Peter looked at him and said, "Dale, what the hell are—"