by Wyatt Kane
We were back in the Bedford within moments, with me in the cockpit and the girls in the back. “Shell!” I yelled as the engine roared into life. “You made this thing fly before—can you do it again?”
The AI didn’t argue, didn’t ask any questions. Perhaps she sensed my urgency, or maybe she was already tracking the gigantic bug-monster. Either way, we rose smoothly into the air and hovered maybe thirty feet off the ground.
I didn’t hesitate. I just jammed my foot on the accelerator and wrenched the steering wheel about. We took off with a lurch that drove me back into my seat and dislodged the girls in the back, and then we careened through the air on the tail of the monster.
“Fucking hell!” said June, but April was laughing as they tumbled about. “I’m going to call you Harry from now on,” she shouted. “And maybe we could convince Shell to turn this thing into an old Ford Anglia!”
I got the reference but had other things on my mind, like not letting the bug-monster get away. I did my level best to avoid think about the fact we were flying over a populated area in a magic van, chasing a giant bug that wanted to put an end to large chunks of the multiverse.
“I wouldn’t let that monster get away if I were you,” a familiar, raspy voice said from behind me. I flinched at the sound and looked over my shoulder to see that the wizard had returned. He was standing up with his hands on the back of my seat.
“About fucking time!” I shouted, both relieved and irritated at once. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Nowhere,” he said. “Literally. And I’m not exactly back, yet. The timelines haven’t finished propagating.”
I risked a longer look. He was right. The wizard’s body was transparent, like that of a ghost.
At least he wasn’t naked again, I thought.
“I have a better question. Why is he back?” June asked, her expression not exactly welcoming.
“Because we changed things already, maybe when we blew up the time rift?” I suggested. At the same time, the van shuddered as if it had hit turbulence. I gripped the wheel tightly and turned my focus back to the monster, which seemed to be pulling away. I put the pedal to the floor, and the Bedford roared, but we were having trouble keeping up.
“Young Caleb is correct,” Shell said. “To generate the timeline in which it controlled President Jimmy Carter and instigated a nuclear confrontation, the large insectoid used the time rift to travel back to the 1970s. As soon as the rift fractured, that timeline ceased to exist.”
I felt a surge of hope from June. “Does that mean we’ve won?” April asked. “The timeline is back to what it should be?”
It was the old man who answered. “If you don’t count the major bug-demon we’re currently chasing, sure! Unless it gets away and creates another time rift, of course.”
“No need to be sarcastic,” April said.
The bug-monster in question began weaving like a gazelle escaping a lion. Only, maybe we were the gazelle, and we were foolishly chasing a lion as if it made sense to do so. I mean, what would we do if we actually caught it?
No sooner had I finished the thought than the monster seemed to have the same idea. It came to an abrupt halt in mid-air, then hurled its massive body about and charged straight toward us.
“No!” I said, hitting the steering wheel for emphasis. “No, no, no. Shit!”
The monster was a lot bigger than we were, and despite how flimsy its gossamer wings seemed, it was fast! It hurled itself toward us like bugs have hurled themselves at car windscreens ever since they were invented, only this time I was pretty sure it wasn’t the bug that was about to go splat!
At the last possible moment, I jerked the steering wheel. It was almost enough, but not quite. The monstrous bug clipped us as it went past, sending us spinning out of control.
As one, the girls screamed. They bounced around like pinballs in the back, and I could only hope the cushions were enough to protect them. I gave voice to a shout that mixed anger and fear, and the van careened toward the ground, spinning and turning until we hit with a bang! and rolled, upside down, into a ditch.
I was strapped into the cockpit. I hung there, upside down, and shook my head to clear it. My ears were ringing as if someone had used my head as a bell, and somewhere along the way I’d bitten my tongue badly enough that I could taste blood in my mouth. But my first real thought was for the girls.
“Everyone okay?” I asked.
“No,” Shell complained. “I think I disconnected a circuit.”
Everyone else responded with grumbles about bruises, but it appeared that April and June were largely okay. As for the old man, perhaps his insubstantial nature helped. He stood on the van’s ceiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“I wouldn’t celebrate just yet, young Caleb,” he said, his words at odds with his relaxed pose. “It’s coming back!”
He was right. As soon as he finished speaking, the monster outside shook the van with another ear-splitting screech, and then something hit the van with the strength of a demolition ball.
No prizes for guessing. It was the bug-demon. The van rocked back and forth like a boat in rough waters. The monster’s legs were visible through the windshield. Above us, the creature let out another menacing cry of insectoid rage.
“How is the glass not broken?” I asked randomly. At the same time, April and June were cursing out loud, with June projecting waves of fear.
“Do you really want to waste time with questions like that?” the wizard asked. He shook his head, incredulous. “If you have to know, do you honestly think I’d use actual glass on a time machine?”
“For fuck’s sake!” June shouted as the monster smashed its weight down on us again. “Fucking do something you fucking fucks!” she said.
She was angry, and I had to admit, it was fair enough. Even the old man seemed to agree. He nodded grudgingly. “What would you like us to do, young June?” he asked.
“I don’t know, how about you start with GETTING US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE?”
Amazingly, the old wizard shook his head. “It wouldn’t do any good,” he said, sounding as if there wasn’t a massive bug demon trying to smash us into smithereens. “The bug will just open another time rift and we’ll be back to where—”
“So how about we kill the damned thing instead?” April interjected.
The old man nodded as if it wasn’t a bad idea. “Sure. How would you like us to do that, then?” he asked.
By that stage, I was struggling to untangle myself from my seatbelt without falling on my head. But I couldn’t help stare at the old man. His lack of concern was staggering.
Nor was I the only one to think so. June projected waves of disbelief as the monster outside slammed itself down on the van and screamed at us again. “Any way you fucking can!” she bellowed.
“How about we start with the two of you stopping it in time?” April said.
Having finally managed to sort out my seatbelt, I crashed to the van’s ceiling and did what I could to right myself. The old man was the only one close enough to help, but it appeared he didn’t even think of it as an option. He just studied me and said, “How strong is your Time Bending skill now?”
I wanted to throttle him. The old man’s presence was stunningly irritating, but then again, so was his absence. I found myself simultaneously wishing he would just go away, and fearing that he might.
Instead, I answered his question. “Level two,” I said.
He grimaced and shook his head. “Pathetic. Nowhere near strong enough. What about the Augmentation factor?”
This time, it was Shell who answered. I was too busy glaring at him while trying to stay on my feet as the monster outside bashed itself against the van again and again.
“Three point five,” the AI said.
“How much more can this rust-bucket take?” April asked.
“Oh, don’t you worry yourself about that,” the old man responded. “It’s much tougher than it looks. And beside
s, if its integrity does fail, we’ll all be dead anyway, so what does it matter?” He favored her with a benign grin, then included us all in his gaze. “Three point five, huh?” he said, his grin taking on a knowing, lecherous look. “My, my. You have been busy. It’s a start. Shell, what rating would you give the bug?”
“I lack the required data for an accurate assessment,” the AI began.
“Ballpark it.”
“From observation, I would estimate it would be equivalent to a level 34 opponent.”
June let out a rude noise and even April seemed taken-aback. As for me, I wasn’t a big gamer, but had played enough to know that I was seriously outclassed.
“So, you’re saying there’s nothing I can do?” I said. At the same time, I was thinking about my grenade launcher, still resting up front next to my seat. Couldn’t it level the playing field a bit, so a level seven (counting the augmentation) could take on a level 34 opponent and come out on top.
“I’m saying that if you’re going to try to freeze the bug in time, you’re going to need help for it to stick.”
“So, help me,” I demanded.
The old man just grinned, but said nothing.
“You know,” April said thoughtfully as she stared at the old man. “His face looks a bit like yours, Caleb, now that you’ve got the start of a beard.”
“What?” I said. The comment had come out of left field, and I didn’t know what to do with it. Out of reflex, I reached up and scratched at the offending hair on my chin.
“He does,” June agreed. “Like if you crossed your face with a wrinkled, gray-haired prune, they might be much the same…”
June trailed off and looked at me with a puzzled expression. I looked from her to April and then to the old man, who was grinning like a madman to some private joke.
I glanced down at his legs, remembering that just like me, he limped when he walked. Almost as if he had the same type of injury…
All at once, everything clicked into place. The old wizard knew our names without being told. More than just our names, he knew us. The girls and me. And he knew more about my talent than I did, and seemed to be the only other person I’d met who had the same talent himself.
He called me ‘young’ Caleb.
“No,” I whispered. “Couldn’t be.”
At this, the old wizard let out a bemused laugh. “So, you’ve finally figured it out, huh?” he said.
I shook my head, not wanting to believe it. To me, this was as big as Darth Vader telling Luke he was his father. Bigger. Even the giant bug-monster trying to pound us into the earth shrank to insignificance in comparison.
“Tell me it isn’t so,” I begged him.
The old man just grinned more broadly. “Why would I do that?” he asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. He was old and unpleasant, a drunk who took way too much for granted, and I found every little thing about him either offensive, irritating, or downright despicable. And yet, I had to acknowledge that I recognized the seeds of all his repulsive characteristics in me.
“You can’t be,” I said.
“Want to bet?”
The girls were looking between the two of us with incredulous expressions. I sent a silent plea to them both, but they didn’t help.
Finally, I had to face it. “You’re me,” I said, very much wanting it not to be true.
XXXX
“Ten points to Gryffindor!” the old man said.
“But you’re so vile!” June blurted. In a way, I was glad, because it saved me from saying the same thing.
The old man barely batted an eye. “It’s taken literally millennia of practice to become so,” he said. “Now, are we going to talk about this all day, or are we going to do something about that bug that’s trying to kill us?”
The wizard had given me a lot to think about, but he was right. Now wasn’t the time to sort it all out. First, we had to deal with the monster that even then continued to pound itself against the floor of the van above us.
Yet I couldn’t help it. There was one more question I had to ask.
“Just how old are you, exactly?”
“Old enough to know that when I’m unsure of myself, I ask irrelevant questions.”
He really did know how to get on my nerves. “April,” I said loudly, “remind me to not be such an asshole when I’m as old as this bastard.”
“You got it, Caleb.”“All right,” I said. “What do we do?”
“Everything we can,” he replied.
<<<>>>
It didn’t take long to prepare. I had my rifle at the ready with a fresh magazine in place and a grenade in the chamber, with a couple more in my jacket pockets. The wizard—old Caleb—had an evil glint in his eye and was toying with a couple of his time displacer discs.
When asked, he explained that he’d removed the safety features and narrowed the focus of the devices to no more than a yard or two. The idea was that instead of wrapping the monster up in a time displacement field and sending it careening through time, whole and undamaged, each device would shift only as much of its surroundings as it could carry.
If it happened to be stuck on the monster’s side at the time, the bug might suddenly find a big chunk of its thorax suddenly reappearing in the year 1298.
I could see how that could prove annoying, and both of the girls seemed to approve.
Yet that didn’t stop them from worrying. June projected a curious mixture of warmth and uncertainty that nevertheless made me feel good inside, and April faced me with her characteristic courage.
“I’m going with you,” she said to the tune of the monster outside doing its best to flatten us.
I started to shake my head.
“No,” she said. “I know you want to be the hero, but here’s the thing. You’re not the only one with something to lose. In case you haven’t figured it out, June and I would quite like to have you around for a bit longer.”
“But—” I said.
“No buts. Remember, you might have your gun, but I’ve got my shield. I’m coming.”
“Give it up, young Caleb. You can’t win,” said the old man. “And anyway, she’s right. If you could just put aside that protection thing you’ve got going on, you’d see it for yourself.”
I shot my infinitely older self a glare that he completely ignored, and admitted defeat.
“Is everyone ready?” I asked. There were nods all around. I felt the familiar surge of adrenaline I always felt before a battle, drew a deep breath, and said, “Let’s do this.”
Together, the old man and I reached out and did our best to freeze the giant bug monster in a single moment in time. It was half-way through one of its ear-shattering screeches when that sound abruptly stopped.
I took that to be a good sign, and opened the van door.
We piled out, with me in the lead. We’d landed in a ditch next to a vacant industrial lot at the edge of town, and as soon as my feet touched the ground, I spun about to take aim at the bug.
Imagine the monstrous offspring of a centipede and a cockroach. It was forty feet from its fang-like mandibles to the end of its scorpion tail, and it was draped over an upside-down Bedford van with two of its wheels slowly spinning.
That’s what we were facing. A nightmare with coldly intelligent eyes, unlimited strength, and a real short temper, doing its best to pound the van into oblivion.
I was delighted—and somewhat surprised—to see that it was frozen. Caught with one of the van’s wheels in its maw, it was completely immobile. Our efforts had worked!
“Go! Go! Go!” I shouted to April and the old man. The plan was to get far enough away from the monster that I could use the grenade launcher without endangering any of us. Yet even as the woman of my dreams and the old man of my future made their way past, I stayed in place, ready to fire my rifle at the bug’s slightest twitch.
I thought that perhaps, at this distance, mere bullets would do some good.
Then everything
turned to shit.
The bug demon didn’t just twitch. Between one moment and the next, it shook itself free of the temporal lock the old man and I had cast around it. Or maybe it had never been truly frozen. Maybe it had simply recognized what we were doing and pretended, to lure us all out.
If so, it had worked. “Look out!” I yelled. I fired repeatedly, aiming for the monster’s eyes, but to little effect. The monster loomed large over me for a moment, then, shrieking madly, came crashing down. I figured I was done for, but still didn’t fire the grenade launcher. I couldn’t risk it without knowing for sure April was safe. As for the van, it had already survived the vacuum of space, the rigors of traveling through time, and an extended pounding by the monster. It would surely survive a blast from a grenade.
Yet even then, I wasn’t ready to give up. I gave a mindless battle-cry and threw myself back, but the monster was too big. It was going to crush me like I was the bug instead of it, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Then, at the very last moment, two astonishing things happened.
First, April was there, holding a shield of pure energy over me in a pose Gal Gadot would have been proud of. At the same time, the old wizard was there too, just a little further away.
He hurled one of his time displacers at the monster. I’d heaved myself up into a sitting position and saw it clearly, glinting in the moonlight, a silvery disc no bigger than a pocket-watch. I had a single moment of hope that this tiny device would do the job. That it would blink out of existence, taking enough of the monster with it that the rest couldn’t survive.
I watched that glowing beacon of hope float toward the monster even as the massive bug came crashing down. My heart was in my mouth and I felt the most urgent anticipation. I needed this to work. The old man needed it too, because he was just as much at risk of being squashed as me and April. I willed the device to do its job.
The disc touched the monster’s underbelly. I felt a moment of exaltation completely out of proportion to the event itself, and thought that maybe it was good enough.
But instead of activating and blinking great chunks of the monster’s flesh away, the device bounced.