by C. E. Smith
The Wellington Barracks was as run down as the Queen’s Castle, also having long lost its luster. The soot on the windows had acclimated to the point that the guard’s standard navy wool uniform with thick white leather gloves and silver chest plate was not reflected.
Time looked forgotten in the ancient building still used by the royal military. The guard, used to such dismal conditions, focused on his mission. After interviewing fellow Lifeguards, he discovered Donnan in one of the training rooms on the second floor.
There were numerous training rooms in the Barracks. Donnan was currently practicing with his standard issue, laser tipped sword.
Although the weapon was standard, it was a man’s skill that makes any weapon great. Even the most advanced weaponry was useless in the hands of an untrained man. Captain Donnan was far from untrained, a truth emphasized by the numerous medals on his chest plate, which had been cast aside onto a nearby bench. Above the bench was a wall of mounted mirrors, and the reflection made it appear as if there were two sparring captains.
The room was equipped with steel, robotic training dummies. The dummies had a motion sensor chip, so that every time Donnan moved to attack the thing, it was programmed to dodge. The machines lacked arms, as their purpose was not to attack, but to make the work harder for the soldier by being in a constant state of offense.
Donnan’s swift movements gave the dummy a workout too. Sweat trickled from his clean-cut black hair and down his strong jawline. His eyes were wide but focused, looking only at the steel dummy with an intense desire to do some damage to it. The guard was thankful he was not the steel dummy; a gaze like that would make him surrender in a moment.
It puzzled the guard why Donnan was treating the sword as an actual sword, instead of simply using the laser tip of the sword as most soldiers did. Soldiers quickly learned that if one aimed the laser directly at the dummy’s motion sensor on their forehead, they could easily be destroyed. The Captain’s strong shoulders were evidence that this practice of striking rather than shooting was a common routine.
Donnan was known as the Captain of few words. He was Scottish and he had been loyal to the Queen for less than ten years, yet he had quickly become her favorite, and many of the men of higher ranking than captain were jealous of her favoritism.
The robot’s constant dodge made it look more like a strange dance than a combat. Every few seconds there was a loud clang of the metal tip of the sword striking the steel robot. Finally, after precise judgment calculating the robot’s moves, one final lunge from Donnan did the robot in. While most men chose to use the laser of the sword to disable it, Donnan had used the sharp edge of the sword to give it a sideways slice and hit it directly on the red dot in its center.
There was a loud buzz of mechanical mishaps and the thing shook violently before going dormant.
Donnan let a sigh of relief and walked up to the dummy to retrieve his sword. He grabbed the black and gold hilt and without struggle pulled it clean out of the machine.
“YES THOMPSON, what is it?” he asked the guard standing in the doorway.
Captain James Donnan had noticed Lifeguard Thompson when he first approached the doorway. He didn’t mind an audience, but he doubted he had come there to observe his sparring. Donnan could tell by the younger man’s face that he had been in a great hurry, and could already guess what that might mean.
“The Queen,” said Thompson quickly. “She needs you, sir.”
Dabbing his forehead with a white cloth, Donnan nodded. “Did she say where to meet?”
“The Thorne Room,” answered Thompson. “At once,” he added.
“Well then, best not keep the sovereign waiting,” said Donnan.
After Thompson saluted and made his exit, Donnan scooped up his helmet and chest plate, donned his uniform, and rushed after Thompson in a swift military march. He could only guess what the Queen wanted; of late, he had filled the role of personal adviser as well as her Captain.
A BRISK horse ride from the Barracks to the Castle, and Donnan was by the Queen’s side. Despite his hurry to get there, he steadied his breathing to appear professional. The Queen looked neither relieved nor impressed that he got there so quickly; rather, she looked as if she expected such dutifulness from him. Donnan knew she did. He knew she had grown to count on him, and he was pleased she thought so highly of him.
His back straightened as he approached where she stood by the window. The window, like everything else in the palace, had peeling gilded paneling and layers of dust. Her hands were clasped behind her back. Her silk red shawl draped over the back of her black lace dress elegantly.
Donnan had always been a somewhat empathetic person, and could feel her crippling worry overwhelm her. It worried him what could be troubling her so much. He tensed, prepared for bad news regarding the King.
She seemed to sense his thoughts. “It’s not about the King. You can breathe, Donnan.” Her tone was worried but caring at the same time.
“Than what is it? What troubles you so if not the King?”
“What troubles any mother, Captain? The fate of their child. My daughter has done something incredibly foolish.”
Donnan frowned. Of course. Only two things concerned the Queen: the King and the war he raged on them, and the princess.
“Forgive me, Mum, but what has she done?”
“She’s just about run away with a foolish man from my husband’s Court! I cannot allow this. The King will never let her leave his Court if he discovers her. She must be found, Donnan. I trust you alone to fetch her.”
Donnan winced at such an order, glad her back was facing him and she missed his reaction. “Fetch her? From the King’s Court?” he asked, making sure he understood.
“Yes. I need you to go over there. Pretend to be working for the King. Find out which man stole my daughter’s heart and fetch her back by any means necessary, for she won’t come quietly. Or find that man first, and bribe him into reason. It’s obvious he is just using Odette, how could he care so much for someone he hasn’t met? How could my daughter be so foolish? I thought I taught her better. But no matter. We have damage control to fix, Donnan. I can’t have word of this getting out to my Court. If they think I can’t get my own house in order, how do they expect me to lead them into freedom?” she asked with a heavy sigh.
“Not to fret, Mum, I will find a uniform and either fetch the princess, or speak reason into this Captain. I will find a King’s uniform and do so at once. I will take the REP and have news to report to you by the morning.”
This made her smile, if ever so faintly. “Thank you, Captain. I knew I could count on you. But not to worry about the uniform, I have one on hand in the Barracks. One never knows when they need an enemy’s uniform,” she said with a wicked smile. She waved her hand. “That is all.”
“Yes Mum, goodnight Mum,” Donnan said and left the room.
The Video screen went blank, and his son was gone. Mr. Barkley blinked at the blank screen. He hadn’t heard the Queen knocking, but he saw how upset the girl had been, and thought it best to give her a private moment to process all of this. He could see the tears in her eyes, the obvious panic and concern. He felt mean to scare her so greatly, but she needed to know the truth. She needed to know how dire the situation was. If so many innocent lives weren’t at stake, he probably would have downplayed the scary and given her time to process that time travel alone was real.
But time was a luxury they couldn’t afford.
The Queen had been pressuring him to build her a Time House, like he’d built his son, to allow her to control time. The thought of either of the Royals having that much power was a terrifying one. She would alter time to favor her winning the war. The fabric of the temporal time string was so fragile, any altering could rip it entirely. It was possible for the world to not only be ended, but to have never even existed.
Although there was only a very slim chance of that happening, they had to take the threat seriously to prevent such a total d
isaster. He had already lost someone very close to him when tampering with time; he could not lose another soul because of time travel, which was his invention! He was starting to regret the greatest discovery of his life.
It was very early in the morning; Bas’s call had woken him. But he was glad. For with the discovery of the Prodigy, Mr. Barkley felt like there was hope.
The wooden door swung open, and the Queen stepped inside his small office and living quarter. Behind the Queen, Mr. Barkley saw his guard, Philip, who ensured he never escaped. Although Mr. Barkley supported the Queen’s war efforts, fearing what would happen if the King won, he didn’t appreciate her methods.
“Barkley.”
“My Queen,” he greeted in a return, but did not get up from his desk chair.
The room was indeed small. There was a twin bed by the window. Bookshelves covered one wall, with books on the universe and time flooding the stacks. Adjacent to the shelves was a small white oak desk and the chair he sat in. His desk was cluttered with leather bound notebooks, scrolls of plans and maps of the stars and Bubble Universes, and other scientific equations. The wall by the door was covered with a green chalkboard, full of with scientific equations. He knew the Queen knew little of physics, so he felt no fear in keeping them up on the board.
“Do I need to even ask again?” she said, her voice sounding tired. Though it was indeed early, that was not the kind of tired she reflected. It was the tiredness of stress that plagued her, and for a moment, Mr. Barkley felt guilty he could not relieve her of such stress. But too many powerful ships couldn’t be a good idea.
“You may,” replied Mr. Barkley in a sigh, “but the answer is still no. I told you, we don’t have the resources.”
It wasn’t one hundred percent true. He could scramble to get the resources, but it was the lie he told the Queen to buy as much time as possible. The past few months he’d been using that excuse, and she seemed to believe it. But tonight she appeared different. She seemed desperate.
His inkling seemed correct as she actually growled at his typical response. She rushed up to him, her royal dress ruffling as she skidded swiftly across the stone floor and ran up to him. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, she slammed him against the wall. Mr. Barkley cried out in pain as back hit the wall of shelves. The spines of the book dug into his own spine with a nasty popping sound. He winced in pain, his eyes wide with surprise that she had resorted to physical violence.
“What are you going to do, kill me?” taunted Mr. Barkley.
He too was tired. He was tired of not being able to leave her castle. He was tired of being away from his family. And he was tired of living with the guilt of losing his daughter, the one soul he had lost when first experimenting with temporal physics. If the Queen were to kill him, at least he would die knowing his wife and son were safe. Perhaps his son could even stop the war with the aid of the Prodigy.
Despite the hopelessness of his situation, Mr. Barkley had always held onto hope. One day this terrible war must come to an end, and then he and his family could be together again. That was all he wanted. He didn’t care anymore how time worked; he just wanted his life back, the life he had ignored because he was too busy obsessing over the truth of the universe.
The Queen grinned, her tired smile cruel and twisted. She let him go. “I have been thinking, Barkley,” she said coyly.
“Oh?”
“Perhaps I don’t need you after all.”
Her sudden change in tune worried him.
“You see, my daughter broke my heart. She ran away tonight. Ran away to the King’s Court. She’s got her heart set on some...” the Queen paused and gritted her teeth. “Some soldier on my estranged husband’s side. Now I need the power to reverse time more than ever! It’s not fair you give your son unlimited temporal access but not your own Queen! I’d kill you for treason, but I think I have a better punishment for you instead.”
“What’s that?”
“You remember your rival, Mr. North?” she asked, her voice suddenly kind again.
His eyes narrowed hatefully at the name. Mr. North was his partner fresh out of school. They had studied time together. Then one day Mr. North stole his first temporal experiment, the Time Car, and sold it to the highest bidder...who happened to be the King. Mr. Barkley hated Mr. North from that day on, and never took a partner again. He nodded to his Queen, and she chuckled.
“Yes, I rather thought you did. See the reason I came here so late at night is to tell you I can’t wait for you anymore. Time and time again I tried to get you to help me. But no matter. I figured Mr. North is an excellent temporal physicist; he should help me.”
“Only for the right price!” Mr. Barkley growled. “Mr. North only cares about money.”
The Queen sneered at him. “I don’t care. I want my daughter back. I want to go back in time and stop her of ever hearing from her captain in the first place!”
His head drained of blood at the thought. “My Queen, please, no! You could lose your daughter completely! You could end the world doing such foolish things!”
Her face was blank, like she wasn’t listening to him anymore. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Still keep working, Barkley, you are still a valuable scientists. But now I don’t need you to control time. I have Mr. North for that.”
“No, you can’t!”
“Goodnight, Mr. Barkley. Sweet dreams.” She left, closing the door behind her.
Mr. Barkley fell back into his desk chair in disbelief. She was more desperate than he had thought. He frowned and stared at the Video screen.
“Please hurry, my son. We have even less time than I originally thought.”
Bellator was surprised to be summoned so late in the day by the King. Why Deatherage felt like he needed to escort her she didn’t know; Bellator could find her way to the King’s Hall with her eyes closed. Deatherage tended to take his orders very literally.
They reached the King and Deatherage bowed to him before taking his leave.
Bellator watched him go, then turned her attention to her King and sank to her knees. “Yes, my Lord?” she asked, very curious.
“I’m not happy,” said the King. “You two disappointed me, again. Deatherage told me a girl has the Diary? Hard to believe my two Ambassadors of Time can be outsmarted by a girl.”
“She’s grown,” responded Bellator, “more of a young woman than a girl.”
“I don’t care if she’s sixty! How can one person outsmart two of my Ambassadors?” he asked and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I know you don’t want to disappoint me again. I know next time you will fetch me that Diary. I have to know how that bugger time travels. Unlike Deatherage, you show promise, Impes. You have much more to gain by pleasing me, don’t you?”
“My freedom?” she asked, hopefully.
The King smiled. “Yes. Your freedom. Do you miss your father? Your sister?” he asked cruelly.
She thought about her family and nodded. It had been so long, she didn’t even know if they were well. “Yes my Lord. I won’t disappoint you again. Is there anything else?”
“Why yes, now that you mention it, there is.”
Bellator could tell what was coming was important.
“What do you know of Alchemy?”
“Alchemy?” she asked, surprised.
“Yes. That was what got you in trouble two years ago, do you remember?”
“Yes, my Lord. I regret that day ever since. What about Alchemy? I thought we weren’t supposed to discuss it.”
“No, we’re not,” he agreed. “But what do you know of Dark Alchemy?”
She frowned and shook her head. “I barely looked into Alchemy two years ago. Just scratched the surface of it, to see if it was anything valuable to your empire. I didn’t even make it to Dark Alchemy. I just know by many it is frowned upon. I know it is dangerous. I know it is obsolete.” Her frown deepened. She wished she knew more about it to please the King. “What specifically do you need to know?”
“Why, could you get me the information?”
She hesitated as she thought a moment. Did she know of any alchemists? She pouted. “No sire, I could not. Not easily, at least. But I’d be proud to research for you.”
The King sighed, looking frustrated. “No, my dear, do not bother. I was just hoping you’d knew something about Dark Alchemy. But you are right, Alchemy is to be forgotten. Do not trouble yourself with this request. You do well to know so little about Alchemy.” He forced an insincere smile.
Her heart skipped a beat, as even fake smiles rare. She savored it and bowed. “Anything else, my Lord?” she asked.
“No, Impes. You may retire for the night. In the morning, I expect you to continue your hunt for Barkley’s time traveling secrets.”
Bellator smiled at the thought of a chance to redeem herself and nodded. “I promise. They won’t be so lucky the next time we see them.”
“Good.” The King pointed to the door.
Bellator nodded and stood. Retiring for the night sounded splendid.
CAPTAIN DEATHERAGE did not promptly return to the Ambassador Hall once he escorted Bellator to the King. He listened. He heard every word the King spoke to Bellator, and was also confused by his request for information on Dark Alchemy. He listened carefully, trying to pick up on some unspoken clues as to why the King would want such a thing.
Pulling out his pocket watch, he sighed. His rendezvous would not be for another hour. He smiled; that was just enough time to speak with the only person he thought would know of Dark Alchemy. The person who had all the records to the King’s library. He knew exactly where that person was to be, as he was there nearly every night.
The wind finally quieted down as the day came to an end. The sun hung low in the sky, and the beautiful colors of a cold sunset filled the few windows flanking the walls of the Wise Oak Inn. But there was still that cold chill in the air in the King’s city, a sign winter would soon be upon them.