For a time, winter seemed to be eternal.
Eventually though, the ice receded, only to be followed by another volcanic eruption even larger than the first, and then more ice, and after that, the planet was bombarded by comets dislodged by the passage of a nearby star. And on and on and on, until finally the sun’s great age caught up with it and it swelled, baking the very atmosphere away before it dimmed, shrunk and went dark at last.
The children of Earth were not there to see this terrible catastrophe though. They had long since departed the solar system and moved on to new stars and incredible futures.
The galaxy itself was the next thing to transform. It merged with Andromeda in a cosmic dance to form a super-galaxy filled with more stars than I could ever hope to count.
Then this too passed. The galaxies separated, and the stars that composed them lost their brilliance and went out like lamps that had burned up the last of their oil. A night more complete than anything I had ever seen ruled the cosmos, and I despaired. It seemed to be the very end of everything.
Only it was not. Out in the blackness, a point of light appeared, and then a terrific explosion sundered the void, and from this, new stars were thrown forth. The universe had recreated itself.
This was all that I could take. I cried out, and felt the touch of the Sibyl and her companions withdraw from me. Staggering, I looked to her, unable to articulate my thoughts or even catch my breath.
“And you have seen only the 2nd universe,” the Sibyl said. “I see all nine, and many more besides. Even so, perhaps you now know some of what I know.”
To be frank, I was so overcome, that I was not certain what I knew--save for one thing. That I would never bother the Sibyl in her sanctum ever again.
CHAPTER 9: Anasazi
In which the nature of the ninth artifact is made plain. I fight the Deviator ace once again. Then, a shocking discovery, and justice is meted out to Pierce at last.
In all my years, I had never been predisposed to vivid dreams. What nighttime visions I did experience were usually nothing more than a fanciful repetition of the day’s events. However, when I went to bed that evening (still badly shaken by my remarkable experience with the Sibyl) I found myself enmeshed in an extremely vivid illusion.
I was back in Seattle, coming into my father’s study and in so doing, I beheld the old fellow, seated in his favorite chair and facing the fire, with a pipe and a copy of the latest edition of The Strand. He looked up as I entered, and greeted me with a warm smile.
Before I could respond in kind, or explain to him what had happened to me, I was out on the street, walking towards a figure half-hidden in the mists of a fog. It was only when I neared them, that I saw that it was my Elizabeth. I called out to her, and began to run in her direction. But with every step, she seemed to recede from me, until at last, she had vanished altogether.
Heart pounding, I awoke, but I was not alone in my bedchamber. The Sibyl, Bo and Peep were there, standing at the foot of my bed, surrounded by an eerie yellow-green glow.
“She is there,” the Sibyl said. “Your Elizabeth is in Seattle at this very moment in the year 1895 on the 28th of April. If you leave immediately, you will find her, and be reunited.”
“How do you know all this?” I demanded, and immediately felt foolish. Of course, the Sibyl would know, I told myself. She knew everything. She had proven that.
“Quickly, Penny,” she urged. “Dress yourself and go to your Phaseship. The time has come for the two of you to embark on the next stage of your journey. Go! Go to Elizabeth.” In another instant, she and her companions had faded away.
I threw the bedcovers aside, ran for my wardrobe, donned my flight suit, and left my rooms. The hour was late, and except for a few mechanica patrolling the halls, I was alone. No one challenged me as I left the dome and ran out onto the tarmac.
By this stage, my sense of urgency was at its very summit, and it was all I could do to go about the business of starting the engines and taking off. My consciousness was dominated by the images of my dream and all I wanted just then was to make the transition into the No-When and from there, Seattle. Thankfully, Blackbird, who was not haunted by such supernatural hallucinations, was on hand to assist me, and in just a minute, we were on our way.
Wait for me, I thought, seeing Elizabeth vanishing in the fog in my mind’s eye. I am coming to you my love. Wait for me.
***
All through my flight, all I could think of was Elizabeth. Her features dominated my awareness, and it seemed as if Blackbird could not fly us to the third universe fast enough.
As we flew along, Blackbird kept a careful watch on the No-When and the River of Time. Because of her vigilance, and enhanced electronic senses, she spotted the other Phaseship long before I had even realized that it was there.
“Penny, it’s a Deviator,” she reported. The screens immediately displayed the data and I saw that the enemy vessel was several minutes ahead of us. From its course, it too appeared to be making for the third universe.
“Damn it all!” I exclaimed, quickly checking to see if any other enemies were prowling nearby. To my surprise, nothing else registered. The Deviator appeared to be completely alone.
What are you about? I wondered. I would have expected a wingman at the very least. But there was no one else. The whole thing was unpleasantly peculiar.
Why are you out here?
There was no question about fighting though; my mission was far too important to risk it all by engaging the reptilian. What mattered was reaching Seattle, and my love.
Then Blackbird had more dire news. “Penny, the engine signature confirms that that Phaseship is our enemy ace. It’s her!”
Simultaneously, the long range sensors conveyed a new image to my screens. Thanks to the extreme distance, it was far from perfect, but still clear enough to leave me with no doubts at all. The Phaseship bore the white rose.
This was the very last thing that I needed.
“Just you keep moving along,” I growled warningly. However distasteful, a temporary truce between us would have to be observed, and from the look of them, the Deviator had the same notion in mind. So far, there was no indication that she was intent on turning around to do battle. She simply kept going.
For a few more minutes, I entertained the vain hope that her ultimate goal lay somewhere else. That she would disappear from my life and prosecute whatever evil thing she had in mind in another place and another time. Somewhere that was far, far away from my old universe and my beloved.
Then, to my absolute horror, I realized that she was descending--straight into the 19th century, and from the look of it, the very month day and year that I had been headed for. Now I had no doubts. Monster that she was, it was abundantly clear that the reptilian ace was making for Seattle, with the intent of doing harm to someone that I loved. How she knew to be there, mystified me, but I had no time to consider this. All that mattered just then was that such a nefarious deed could not be allowed to go forwards unopposed.
Cursing her and her degenerate brethren to every religionist hell that I could conceive of, I ordered Blackbird to increase our speed. I had no illusions; I knew that it was highly likely that I would not survive the encounter, and that my rendezvous with Elizabeth would never occur, but the thought of this foul creature destroying the woman who was my very heart spurred me on.
“For Elizabeth!” I shouted. We had come into gun range by this point and I let go without the slightest hesitation. To my grim satisfaction, the Deviator took a hit right along her fuselage. Nothing fatal, but it was only the beginning of what I had in mind for this creature. Our business would be done at last, even if it meant my death.
“Take that, you monster!”
The Deviator responded to my assault by going into a roll and I followed, shooting as I went. To my disbelief though, the pilot did not make any attempt to fight me. Instead, they merely avoided my fire and increased their thrust. Escape, not combat, seemed to be t
heir objective.
“Run then,” I hissed. “It makes no difference to me. I shall bring you to ground.”
We quickly left the 3rd universe and crossed over into the 2nd. I was certain that I would encounter more Deviators there, but found nothing. For the moment, it seemed that our struggle would remain a private one, which was perfectly satisfactory.
What was not, was that my target was a slippery one. Several times, I thought that I had a good shot, only to have her evade me, and what hits I did manage to score were not enough to take the craft out of commission.
At the very pinnacle of my frustration, I saw that the Deviator had finally decided to try her luck in one of the centuries. According to my readouts, she was headed for the 10th century, and the year 950.
A base perhaps? It was certainly conceivable. If so, then I understood that I would have to choose a point at which to break off the chase. A repugnant notion to be sure, but a necessary one. If I overstayed my visit, I ran the risk of finding myself outnumbered and outgunned by her associates.
Just a few more minutes, I finally decided. That is all. And if I fail in that time period, then I will let her go and attempt to beat her to Seattle.
Descending together, the displays informed me that we were somewhere in the region of what I understood was (or would be in my old universe) the northeastern part of the Province of Arizona.
The same date and place as my Anasazi pottery, I reflected. Something quite significant was about to occur. I only hoped that it would include my triumph over the Deviator ace.
Checking the landscape below us, I apprehended what the Deviator was about. She was taking us towards a network of canyons, undoubtedly hoping to lose me in the maze.
I was not so easily hoodwinked however and vowed to stay with her the entire way. I would match her move for move, and see to it that she met justice within its precincts. That rift would become her tomb, and Elizabeth would be made safe.
We came in at full speed, leveling out just before either of us could smash into the earth and as we did so, I fired another burst. Unfortunately, the Deviator ace avoided this and continued on.
Firing again, I caught sight of pale stone buildings with low flat roofs and small windows, huddled together under the cliffs. There were also gardens spread out across the canyon floor and clear signs of primitive irrigation. As we flew by, the natives working in these fields either ran or pointed frantically at us, and I had little doubt that they were utterly terrified. To them, we must have seemed to be gods engaged in some great celestial battle, or perhaps giant supernatural birds, and I felt a combination of regret for playing any part in creating such havoc, and anger.
Had my quarry and her inhuman brethren never assaulted my fellows as they had, or seen fit to challenge the Masters, the otherwise peaceful lives of these people would never have been disturbed in the first place.
But this was a Deviator I was dealing with, and as such, did not possess any shred of decency or compassion. To punctuate my revulsion, I let go with the chronoguns once more.
This time, and as we looped around a great double spire of stone, the enemy pilot tried to evade my fire, but in so doing, dipped too low and the edge of her wingtip struck the earth. The vessel went into a tumble, and as I pulled up to avoid colliding with it, it crashed, sending up a great plume of dust and rocks. Then it began to slide.
By the time I had come around again, it had ground to a halt, and I saw that it was still reasonably intact. Fully intent on finishing the job, I lined myself up for a strafing run. Then it occurred to me that I was about to commit a grave error.
I still did not know how the Deviator had been aware of Elizabeth in the first place. Nor did I have any idea whether or not any others of her kind also knew, or if they were on their way to the 3rd universe with the same nefarious mission in mind.
I simply had to determine the truth, and after all I had been through, I also wanted to see the face of my enemy at last. To gaze into her inhuman eyes--before I killed her.
My mind made up, I did not fire, but landed near the crash site and exited my craft. My mechanica unharnessed itself as I did so, and I was glad for this. If worse came to worse, it would lend its firepower to mine, and give me the edge that I would need to maintain control over the situation.
“Do not fire on the Deviator unless I order you to do so,” I instructed.
Its eyes flashed green in understanding. “N'che se'dem.”
With the robot following behind me, I made my way towards the damaged machine, chrono-pistol at the ready. Then I spied my foe.
She had also left her Phaseship and was in the process of evaluating her situation, just as I would have done in her place. And she was armed. But I knew that I had the advantage.
I immediately positioned myself behind a convenient rock, took careful aim, and announced myself, hoping that the miserable creature would understand Atlantean, or one of the other languages that I was fluent in. Of course, I did not even consider employing the Queen’s English; it went without question that such a civilized tongue would be a complete unknown to the likes of her.
“Do not move”, I cried. “I have you in my sights and you shall not prevail. Keep your hands where they can be plainly seen or I will cut you down where you stand.”
She started at the sound of my voice, and looked in my direction, but she obeyed the command, thus establishing that we had a common means of communication.
“Remove your helmet.” I ordered, wondering what I would see when she complied. Would she be as hideous to behold as I imagined? Or worse? Given what I knew, I prepared myself to witness something truly horrific.
Again, the figure indicated her understanding by reaching up to grasp the edges of her helmet and pulling it off. What I saw, made plain by the brilliant sunlight, almost compelled me to drop my weapon and faint dead away. For I was not gazing upon some reptilian monster, nor anything at all inhuman, but something fully and completely human.
In fact, I knew that face, even though the very sight of it was beyond all rational possibility. It was none other than my lost love, Elizabeth.
From the look that she gave me as I rose, removed my own helmet and revealed myself, it was obvious that she was as dumbstruck as I. And as she staggered under the effects of her own shock, I dropped my weapon and ran to her, heedless of the danger of injuring myself in my mad dash. All that mattered was reaching her, and holding the woman that I had thought gone forever. Elizabeth allowed the same impulse to consume her, meeting me halfway and embracing me.
“I could have killed you!” I sobbed. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Yes!” she cried. “But can you forgive me? For it was I that shot you down in Serbia. I thought you to be a reptilian monster. To think what I could have done!”
“You are forgiven, my love,” I declared, stroking her cheek. “You are forgiven everything.”
We kissed, long and deeply. When we parted at last, neither of us could quite bring ourselves to believe that we were actually looking at one another, and that somehow, against all odds, we had been reunited.
“I thought you dead,” I finally managed to stammer. “I saw you fall! How can this be?” The answer had already revealed itself to me however, but Elizabeth’s words gave it form.
“I did die,” she answered somberly. “You saw truly, my love. They reawakened me in a new body--a copy imbued with all the knowledge of my former self.”
“Like me,” I replied, stunned by this revelation. “They did the same to me.”
“Then neither of us survived,” she observed sadly. ”What we feel for each other are really the memories of other women.”
“It means nothing,” I insisted. “Regardless of its origin, our love is real my dearest. It has managed to survive death itself.”
“Yes,” she agreed, her features brightening. “It has. When I painted the white rose on my ship, I did so in that very hope. And now I shall never let you go.”
Hea
ring this, I marveled at my own blindness. “I should have seen it. I should have realized what that rose meant.”
“Do not berate yourself, my darling,” Elizabeth replied. “For it is I that should have guessed the truth. When I saw the blackbird on your Phaseship, I thought it nothing more than an evil trick being played on me by a foe.”
We kissed again. Then at last, enough of my senses returned to me and I stepped back and took in the whole of her. I could not miss the red arrow-bursts on her shoulders, nor from where I saw her eyes go, could she ignore the blue hourglasses on mine. According to these symbols, we were still enemies.
“But how is it that you are a Deviator?” I inquired. “What set you against the Masters so?”
“I?” she retorted, looking appalled. “Against the Masters? I should ask you the very same thing. I serve the Masters, and it is your forces that are arrayed in rebellion against them.”
She stated this as if it were so obvious that a child should have understood, and for a moment, I struggled with the implications. The conclusion however, was undeniable. We both served the Masters, and clearly, we were pawns in some kind of senseless game that was as much a lie as our entire century had been.
Elizabeth perceived the very same thing, and her eyes darkened with rage. “They have deceived us all,” she hissed.
“We cannot remain here,” I announced, anxiously searching the skies. “They will come looking for us.” Elizabeth made no protest, and followed me into my Phaseship.
We took off straightaway.
“Disable transponder,” I instructed Blackbird.
“But Penny, without it no one will be able to find--“the AI began.
“Do as I say,” I snapped. We were already leaving the atmosphere and beginning our transition into the No-When.
“Wherever shall we go?” Elizabeth asked.
I reached out and squeezed her hand in reassurance. “For the nonce, somewhere that no one will find us,” I told her. “Either your side, or mine.”
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