“Marlowe?” She turned to the second man. “Christopher Marlowe?”
He bowed deeply. “At your service,” he said.
Kaylan turned to Will.
“That makes you...William Shakespeare?”
“Also, at your service, milady.” Will bowed.
At that moment, the door to the Sheep’s Head Inn flew open, and the two men who had stood guard at the town entrance were front and center. A larger man stood behind them. One of the guards pointed.
“That’s her,” he said with a sneer.
“Just walked through the town gates, easy as you please,” the other one said.
“Dressed like a Papist, she is,” the first one said, raising his voice.
“How ‘bout it, then?” the large man behind them asked. He parted the guards and stepped forward. “What’s your business here, miss?”
“Apologies,” Kaylan began. “I’m here looking for my friend. He’d be dressed like me—”
“Papists!” the first guard screamed.
“No, no,” Kaylan quickly corrected herself. “He’d be dressed different than all of you. Not exactly like me, but...different.” Kaylan sighed. This wasn’t turning out well at all.
Something made her turn toward Will, who had a sudden expression of recognition on his face. He cleared his throat.
“Ah, she begs your pardon, Mr. Flyte,” Will said, looking down for a moment, then walking around the room. “You see, she had heard we had an opening for a player to perform my Viola in...Twelfth Night—”
“Twelfth Night?” Marlowe asked.
Shakespeare shrugged. “Something I’m working on for the holidays—not quite finished yet—and, ah, we were about to go rehearse. If you’ll excuse us.” Will grabbed Kaylan’s hand and started for the door.
Mr. Flyte held up his hand, and Will stopped.
“How big a fool do you take me for, Shakespeare?” Flyte bellowed. “Females do not perform theater, even for the queen.” Now it was Flyte’s turn to walk about the room. He was a sweaty, round man, whose oily black hair hugged the frame of his scalp. He looked frumpy, but he walked with authority. “I am the magistrate of this district. I have audiences with the queen as well, Shakespeare, and one word from me about a woman in your band of lazy ne’er-do-wells and you’ll be right back here in the attic penning your plays for no one!”
“Yes, well, she has yet to play the part, and while I hold no sway over you running to the queen and spewing gossip, I most certainly can tell you to go to hell, sir, should you attempt to inform me just who I can and cannot include in the Lord Chamberlain’s Men.”
Will took a step back, and Kaylan matched it.
“Fine, Shakespeare, she can have her moment upon the stage. After she answers a few of my questions at the magistrate’s office,” Flyte said.
Marlowe suddenly stepped between the two factions. “I think it would be better to reschedule that talk, Flyte,” he said in his deep, dreamy voice that oozed contempt.
“Be sensible, Marlowe, and stay out of this. This is magistrate business, of which you know nothing!”
“I am a playwright, Flyte,” Marlowe retorted. “I know everything there is to know in this universe.”
Flyte’s bodyguards drew their swords.
“Time to go, miss,” Flyte said. Simple, direct, and no room for any more argument.
Marlowe drew a dagger. So did half the pub. Marlowe turned toward Kaylan slightly, still keeping an eye on Flyte.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Kaylan. Kaylan Smith.”
“Milady Kaylan is going nowhere, Flyte,” Marlowe said.
Flyte and his guards tensed as did Marlowe.
“All right, boys, let’s all calm down,” Kaylan said.
“You’re comin’ with us, wench!” one of the guards yelled.
Kaylan nodded and slowly walked toward them. When she passed Marlowe she put her hands behind her back and fluttered her fingers. She felt cold steel in her hands, placed there by Marlowe. She slowly walked up to Flyte and waited.
“There will always be a moment in which your prey will think he can escape,” Ulf had told her once during her training. “Your prey may even think they have won and flash you a condescending smile. Stupid prey, for that is when you strike and show them just how wrong they are.”
Flyte’s lips curled upward, and Kaylan moved quickly. She glided behind him and held the dagger to his throat before the two guards had time to turn around.
“Put your swords down,” Kaylan barked. “Now.”
No one moved.
“Tell them to put their swords down,” Kaylan whispered into Flyte’s ear, “or I’ll slit your throat right now.”
“Silly girl, you won’t leave this city alive,” the first guard said. He laughed a slow, rolling laugh.
Kaylan could feel Flyte trying to gain leverage to break free, but Ulf had taught her well. She leaned in again and whispered in his ear. “I know what you’re trying to do. You can’t gain the advantage here. Keep trying, and I’ll slit your throat.” Kaylan dragged the edge lightly across the side of the magistrate’s throat, and Flyte let out a high-pitched yip.
“Put your swords down,” he barked. “Now, you fools.”
When Kaylan heard the muted clang of steel hitting the wooden floor and looked out at the astonished faces of actors, playwrights, and serving staff, she sighed.
“OK, I’m going to say this one last time to everyone, and then I’m gone. I’m looking for a friend of mine. He’s tall, black, he would have been dressed out of place, like me.”
Marlow and most of the actors slowly turned to Will.
“Will?” Kaylan felt a lurch in her belly. She could tell by the way everyone was looking at him that this wasn’t going to turn out well.
“I didn’t know...I just assumed you were looking for a fair-skinned—” Will cleared his throat. “No matter. You are referring to Sir Bart.”
“Sir Bart?”
Will smiled. “A nickname I gave him after I knew him for a fair while. He was of immense help to me.”
“Help?” Marlowe exclaimed. “Without him the Muse would not have gifted you with the tragedy that elevated you to prominence, Will.”
“God help me, that is true,” Will said. “If he hadn’t told me his tale, Time Throughout End would never have been made.”
“Where is he, Will?” Kaylan asked. She felt Flyte’s muscles, as much as they were, trying to break free. Kaylan was ready. Never take your attention off your prey. She could hear Ulf’s voice echo in her mind. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“He...died. I’m sorry, milady Kaylan.”
“How did he—” Kaylan punched Flyte in his side. “Stop moving, damn it. How did he die?”
Marlowe shrugged. “Flyte killed him.”
“You killed him,” Kaylan repeated. Her eyes began to sting with tears. “Why?”
“Because he wasn’t from around here,” Flyte barked. “Because he talked strangely, and he wanted to be a player, contributing nothing to the crown.”
At that, Marlowe and Will took a threatening step closer.
“So go ahead, wench, kill me. See how far you get with your head still attached to your body,” Flyte threatened.
“I think you’ll find I can get very far, Flyte,” Kaylan hissed.
“I know that look, milady.” Will took a cautious step toward them. “You do not want to kill a magistrate, no matter how corrupt he is.”
“What do you know of it, Will Shakespeare?” Flyte yelled.
“One doesn’t have to be corrupt to see corruption,” Will yelled back. “Corrupt in action, corrupt in your soul, sir.”
“Just get it over with.” Flyte dropped his armor of bravado, and Kaylan felt his body relax. She wanted to do it. Her hand tensed on the dagger’s hilt. He killed someone Kaylan had talked into service. Joining her to stop her lunatic grandson. On faith, he joined her, and he was a Minuteman for such a short time.
She wanted to kill Flyte, but in the end, she knew. Bart was dead because of her. It was her fault.
Kaylan made a quick move and slashed Flyte’s right thigh—deep enough to send him stumbling to the floor. She turned and ran out of the inn, into the street, leaving Will, Marlowe, the actors, and assorted screams and threats of death behind. She pressed the middle button on her device and turned back toward the inn in time to see Will and Marlowe stare at her, their mouths agape. Everything began to shimmer.
Her mind flashed back to the day Kaylan first told Elder Jess about her plan—almost five years ago now in her world. They were sitting at the longhouse, eating dinner. The rest of the tribe had eaten and left them to finish and clean the pots.
“You’re insane,” Elder Jess had said.
“I have to try,” Kaylan had replied.
“The time it will take for you to visit all those worlds—you understand that time will move normally for you, right? We saw that with Kyle. Do you know how old you’ll be when you finally get back to 2075 in your timeline, in your world?” Elder Jess’s eyes were open as wide as Kaylan had ever seen.
“Well, god willing, I won’t have to do this alone,” Kaylan had said.
That was the day Elder Jess began making the device Kaylan now used. And now she was starting her mission alone. Her tears made Will and Marlowe disappear entirely a few seconds before they actually did.
EARTH PRIME
1
E veryone in Havelson’s car spent most of the day’s ride into the Rocky Mountains in silence. Jessica had her window rolled down. She asked the car’s Guardian to do it, but Havelson reminded her this car didn’t have a Guardian system installed. Jessica had to manually lower the window using a metal lever you had to crank in a counterclockwise direction. The brisk mountain air and the sharp smell of the pines helped her keep her mind in the here and now, not reliving what she imagined to be the last moments of Delta’s life.
“Can you please close the window?” Kildere asked. “It’s cold.”
“No,” Jessica said dismissively and closed her eyes.
Jessica remembered meeting Delta, formally, shortly after she was ambushed by the Anarchists at St. Louis. After Jessica proved Timmy was her brother, they took her to where they were holed up, the basement of a half-demolished house in Affton, a suburb southwest of St. Louis.
Thorpe had almost succeeded in wiping out the Anarchists. Jessica was told that those she saw in the basement were all who were left of the group.
“Well, obviously we need recruitment,” Jessica had said. Delta had laughed, and their friendship had grown from there.
“She wanted to stay,” Gabriel leaned forward from the back seat and used his good hand to grab her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault,” Jessica replied. “If I wasn’t so damned single-minded...” Jessica glanced back toward Kildere.
“Jess?”
She ignored Gabe. “Stop the car,” she told Havelson.
“What?” The doctor glanced at Jessica, trying to keep his eyes on the overgrown weeded path that had once been a two-lane highway.
“Pull over. Stop the car,” Jessica commanded. Havelson did what he was told.
Jessica got out of the car, walked around to the other side, opened the rear driver’s-side door, grabbed Kildere, and flung him out of the car onto the road. For an instant, she was surprised at how far he traveled, but adrenaline had supercharged her body. She felt like her entire body had fallen asleep, but now she was awake. Awake and pissed.
“Miss Waters, what the hell—”
Before she was even aware of her actions, Jessica swung her purifier hard across Kildere’s face. Three teeth ejected from Kildere’s mouth, along with a fair amount of blood.
“Someone I considered a sister died because you wouldn’t give me an answer, Kildere,” Jessica hissed.
“No, your friend died because of decisions you made. Do not put that on me. We don’t have time for this,” Kildere said, his voice muffled as he held his hand over his mouth to try to curb the bleeding.
“I agree.” Jessica touched a button on her purifier. It slowly hummed, coming to life. “So I’m going to ask you one more time, then I’m going to leave you here. How I leave you here is entirely up to you. Where is Kaylan Smith?”
Kildere shook his head. “You won’t kill me,” he said. “You’re not that person.”
Jessica aimed a foot to the left of Kildere’s right arm, which he was leaning on, and fired. The particle beam punched a hole a foot in diameter, almost a foot deep, in the road. Chunks of gray concrete and black asphalt flew about, and Kildere coughed, inhaling the cloud of concrete dust.
“Who said I was going to kill you?” she said. “One last time, Kildere. Where is she?”
Jessica aimed for Kildere’s leg and pressed the button once more. The purifier began to hum.
“All right, all right, damn it,” Kildere screamed, and Jessica powered down her weapon. “Fine. You want the truth? I have no Goddamn clue where she is.”
“I knew it,” Jessica muttered.
“She was on a mission with the Minutemen, chasing Kyle through the time stream. The last place we tracked them to was Florida, 1986. It looked as if Kyle was going through with making the bomb.”
Jessica laughed. “The multiverse bomb? Come on, Kildere.”
“Look, just because you never believed it doesn’t mean he wasn’t insane enough to try to detonate a nuclear device in the time stream. You tell me, Miss Theoretical Physicist, how much damage could that cause?”
The truth was, Jessica wasn’t sure. What would happen when you blew up part of the time stream? When you, quite literally, blew up a piece of some Earth’s history? Many Earths’ histories, for that matter? If nothing else, the short history of the Minutemen, chasing after Kyle, proved the existence of the multiverse.
“They never came back?” Gabe was beside her. She wasn’t aware he had exited the car.
Kildere looked at Kyle. “No.” His tone relaxed. “Shortly after they left, the Mulvari disappeared, and then we heard the Guardians’ message.”
“That wasn’t just TPC bullshit?” Jessica asked. “That really was from them?” So the Guardians weren’t here to invade. They’re here to purge.
“Why would we broadcast something like that?” Kildere sounded frustrated. “Why would we send people into a panic? How does that benefit us?”
“I don’t know,” Jessica said. “Why would you separate families? Why would you purposely kill over three-quarters of a million people? You executive types always seem to go for the lazy solution.”
“You know why we did those things, Miss Waters,” Kildere said. “Just because you don’t like the answers doesn’t mean there weren’t reasons.”
“Right,” Jessica said, raising her purifier. “Good luck evading the lizards without a leg, Kildere.”
Gabe moved and stood in front of Kildere, in Jessica’s line of fire.
“Don’t do this, Jess.”
“You need to move away, Gabe. Now.” Jessica held the purifier steady, aiming through Gabe to Kildere’s leg.
“Thorpe was one thing.” Gabe’s tone was steady. “This is something else.”
“You think Kildere’s hands were clean in all of TPC’s actions after the Corporate Wars? During the Corporate Wars? He was on their board, Gabe. He knew. That makes him accountable.”
“This isn’t you, Jess.”
“It is. Get out of the way.”
Gabe closed his eyes. “You know, I’m not surprised you hit it off with Kaylan right away,” he said. “You’re just like her.”
“I’m...how can you say that?” Jessica lowered her weapon. Her eyes watered, and she looked away.
“Thank you, Mr. Stern,” Kildere said.
“Shut up,” Gabe snapped.
“Why did you say that?” Jessica repeated.
“Because. You—both of you—you get these
ideas in your head, and no one can talk you out of them. You never listen to anyone else.”
“I listen to you,” Jessica said to Gabe.
“Listen to me now,” he said. “Don’t shoot Kildere. He’s not like Thorpe. You know he’s not, as much as you want him to be.”
Jessica closed her eyes and rubbed them. Kildere must have tried to get up because she heard Gabe bark for him to stay down.
“So what they said is true? They scattered the Minutemen—what was left of them—all along the time stream?” she asked when she was able to look at Kildere again.
“Yes.”
“So you can’t help me. You and Thorpe never knew where—when—Kaylan was?”
“No.”
“Gabe, get in the car.”
No one moved.
Jessica sighed. “I’m not going to shoot him, but he stays here.”
Gabe looked back toward Kildere.
“We can’t just leave him here,” he said.
“You didn’t want to spend the time taking him back when we were at TPC, why do you care now?”
“Hate to interrupt a good soul searching,” Havelson said from the car, “but your U-Board is beeping.”
Lizards were in the area. This little diversion might cost us, Jessica thought. It didn’t escape her that, once again, it would be her fault.
“Fine,” she said and pointed to Gabe. “He’s your responsibility.”
They all scrambled to the car. Jessica got into the front seat, and Gabe helped Kildere into the back.
“Direction?” Havelson asked.
“Keep going forward,” Jessica answered. “Slowly.”
2
Twenty miles on, and they had to abandon the car at the side of the road.
“Are you sure?” Havelson asked Jessica.
“We’re done with the road, Doc,” Jessica said. She wasn’t a xenobiologist, although there were a few classes at her advanced education center she could have taken, but if she were in charge of an alien force set upon obliterating the human race, her first move would be to station soldiers throughout the planet’s infrastructure. She had hoped to get farther before departing the comfort of a car, but lizards were in the area.
Minutemen- Parallel Lives Page 7