The Timeless Trilogy Box Set 1-3
Page 52
I don't care. Simon needs help.
The medics mutter amongst themselves as they guide the gurney towards Simon. It settles on the floor like a tired magic carpet and slides right under him with a silky sound. Simon groans again and one of the men says something to him in that language. More people are running into the room, men and women in long robes. The short man who called for help--I think his name is Mulavi--holds up his hands and yells something. Back up, it must mean. Someone is hurt. I'm glad to see that he has some level of compassion.
Simon rises from the floor, the gurney under him. "What?" he manages. The men wheel--no, float--Simon towards the tunnel. They wave with their hands and the levitating gurney follows their commands. One of them motions for us to follow. I nod at Monica and Isabel. "Come on," I say. "I know what's going on. I'll explain it all to you in just a few minutes, as soon as I know Simon here is safe."
Monica looks at the hair clip in my hands. "What is that?" she asks. "If I wear that, will I suddenly understand everything that's going on?"
"To an extent."
"Good. Because I'm very confused."
The medics run and the flying gurney keeps pace. They vanish into the tunnel and we follow. No metal box rises from the floor this time. Mulavi has disabled the security.
But the tunnel is different than it was before. Instead of the warm, blue water flowing around the walls, creating such a magical atmosphere, it's plain metal with pipes and dim lights. I almost feel like we're in a bunker, like we're hiding from something. This isn't right, but it's only a small change. It seems like many of the same people are still here, at least.
Mulavi comes up in the back, almost like he's trying to shoo us out of the room. Of course he is. Arnelia says that he hates anyone to be in there when they're not supposed to.
"Where are you taking him?" I ask the medics. I peek over the last man's white shirt and peer at Simon's leg. There's blood on the canvas, but at least the bleeding seems to be slowing down. I wonder if they have some magical machine that's going to fix Simon up with laser beams or something.
There's another person running down the tunnel towards us.
It's Arnelia.
She wears another tan robe with light blue trim today and she has another butterfly hair clip in her hair. This one's blue and green. Her eyes are wide and she's got her mouth open like she wants to ask what's going on.
"Mu--" she begins. "Julia!"
I run up to her and we hug. The men push past us with Simon in tow. He groans again. She'll be able to answer my questions.
"How are you back here?" she asks. She looks at Simon with his red blood on his leg and his grimace. "You're...you are mortal. You are supposed to be back in your own time!" Her strange accent is the same as ever. I'm so relieved that she's here.
"Simon's hurt," I say.
"What happened?" she runs beside me as we follow the medics.
I'm glad to speak to someone who uses my language. "He was hit by shrapnel. In the mid eighteen hundreds," I tell her. "He's lost blood."
"What were you doing there?" she asks, eyes wide.
"Getting Frank to never bother us again. So far, we've succeeded."
Arnelia gives me a strange look like she's not sure we'd even do that. I don't like it.
Monica asks again what's going on. I ignore her for now. We have more pressing things to deal with.
"Where are they taking Simon?" I ask. I have to make sure he's not going to be a prisoner for trespassing.
“To the medical bay," Arnelia says. Her face falls. "Something is wrong, Julia." She grabs my arm as we move. Our footfalls echo off the metal of the tunnel, which seems like it's never going to end. "Things are different here. My world is not the same as it used to be. Something in the past changed, and I think I know what that is."
"A lot of things in the past changed,” I say. I eye the ugly tunnel again. It's so strong, so...fortified. “We screwed up so bad, Arnelia. I just wanted to make sure that you got to live your life and Simon and I got to live our lives and Isabel gets to live her life. That's all I wanted. I didn't mean to alter the course of history like this. I don't know how to fix it or what to do. But you're still here."
"I am. I'm surprised, given all the things that have changed," Arnelia says. We exit the tunnel and emerge into the main lobby of the complex. It's different here, too. There's still a glass dome overhead, showing the sky, but that's all. The gurgling fountain is gone and there aren't many people standing around. There's a group of men standing over in the corner, talking in low voices like they're trying to keep a secret, but that's all. All the people in robes and togas have vanished and there are no plants up in the corners or anything. The medics turn towards another tunnel, one as long, dark and depressing as the first one. Their movements are coordinated, practiced. It seems like this is something they're used to doing.
"Surprised?" I ask. "Did we mess up that bad?"
One of the medics faces me, like he's unsure what language I'm speaking. Which, now that I think about it, he probably is. I'm glad this conversation is private and they likely don't understand us.
"There's a war here," Arnelia says. We enter the second tunnel. "It wasn't like this before. I know because I made another chip, and I was able to preserve my memories of the past before it changed. Before it changed, this world was fairly peaceful. But now that the Titanic hasn't sank and the Gustloff never went down and the American Civil War turned out differently, there are scores of people gone who should have remained in this world. The inventor of the cure for cancer was never born, thanks to the Civil War turning out differently. And that's only one example out of many. And people are here who shouldn't be. Like the dictator of the Northern Hemisphere."
"Dictator?" I echo. We enter the tunnel. The men are running now and I jog to keep up with everyone.
"Yes," Arnelia says. "He is the descendant of a Titanic survivor who shouldn't have made it. His name is Chalmers. He is bent on obtaining our time travel technology so that he can rule both hemispheres and our space colonies as well. We are in full war. There is no longer any beauty here."
My stomach heaves and for a moment I forget all about Simon on the gurney. "He's what?"
"The world knew we had time travel down here in the Science District before this all went bad," Arnelia explains. She hasn't smiled once, I realize. "They knew that we were exploring the technology for all. But now things are different. Chalmers wants everything. He wants to rule the entire human race, and he does not care who he kills to get what he wants."
"Rats," I say. That doesn't quite cover it.
"There is word that he is coordinating some kind of attack. Let us pray you do not see his weapons." We're still running through the long tunnel. This place is a fortress. Arnelia is right. All the beauty is gone. I want to throw up.
Simon groans. "I'm not liking the sounds of all this."
I could kiss him. He's awake. "We're going to have lots of work to do."
"I don't know what's going on, but it sounds like it."
"Wait," Isabel says behind us. She still doesn't have her memories. "We're in some kind of time travel adventure? How come we don't remember any of it? I think you need to lend me that thing that you put on your head. It seems to have something to do with it."
I hate leaving her in the dark. "Why does this dictator want your time travel lab? It won't do him any good. When mortals go through, they don't remember unless they have your device. Hasn't that been established?"
Arnelia shoots me a grave look.
And I get it.
He's after her. He must know that she's invented a way around it. And without the Timeless here to guard Time, he can have whatever he wants. Chalmers will be free to alter history however he desires.
"I don't feel good," Simon manages.
And his head rolls to the side.
"Faster!" I yell.
One of the medics looks down at him, says something to the others, and waves the gurney on thr
ough the tunnel.
I've broken the world.
Broken time.
Everything.
Me--just a mortal girl who wanted to save her family--has ruined the world and the future for everyone, including my own descendant.
I'm greedy and I probably don't deserve to live. Perhaps Frank was right. He wasn't only afraid of what the Chronophages would do to him. He was afraid for the world and the threat I posed to it. He was right and I was wrong. Perhaps I should have let him stab me on the Titanic and none of this would have happened to all these people.
Arnelia slaps me on the back. "I know what you are thinking," she says. "Do not think it. Somehow, our plan did not go the way it should have."
"That's easy for you to say." Everything's closing in on me.
We're running into another open area. I realize that this used to be the library where we looked up the Titanic and Frank's role in our existence. But it's gone now. Instead, we emerge into a claustrophobic room with a low ceiling and no windows. There are men and women in military uniforms here. Many of them sit and face computer screens lit up in blue. Some of the screens display the frigid plains of Antarctica outside with scrolling text. No one's talking. A man wearing a green general's uniform complete with medals and badges looks after us as we run through. Mulavi says something to him and the general steps aside. Beyond him, there's a doorway leading to a white, sterile area with several cots encased in glass cocoons. The medical bay. I hope that, since there's a war going on, they have good ways to fix violent wounds in a hurry.
"Simon, you're going to be okay," I say, running up to him. One of the medics yells something at me and shoves out of the way. "You'll be fine. They'll take care of you," I shout. The smell of blood is even stronger now and the air's almost hot in here. It's humid. There's a fan in the ceiling blowing down some kind of steam.
The glass rises off one of the cots.
They slide Simon onto it, complete with the canvas gurney. The glass lowers over him.
I want to hold his hand more than anything. I rush over and try to take it, but one of the medics pulls me out of the way. The glass comes all the way down over Simon, separating him from me and the others. One of the military men stands there, making demands of the medics in a language I don't know. I can guess from his tone what he's asking. Are these newcomers a threat? I think we should deal with them. But I don't want to argue right now and I don't care if they think we're agents sent by the dictator to steal the time lab or whatever. I just want Simon to be well so we can go make this world better for Arnelia. I won't let Chalmers or whoever get a hold of her and steal her technology. Or worse--kill her.
My chest hurts. We're back at square one. Frank's gone, forever in his own time, but Arnelia's still in mortal danger. We've accomplished nothing.
This isn't going to work.
Simon closes his eyes and breathes evenly, like he's going into a restful sleep. The inside of the glass cocoon lights up, making him appear radiant and angelic. One of the medics stands by and observes while the other three rush into another room, probably to control whatever's going on. Simon's gone under. I'm glad to see him out of pain, but the blood on his leg remains as bad as ever.
“Hurry,” Arnelia tells the medics. “Hurry.”
"Excuse me," Monica says.
"How are they going to heal him?" I ask Arnelia. I have to know.
"We use nanotechnology," she says.
"You use what?"
"Tiny robots," she says. "They will go in and close the wound and deliver drugs to stop infection. It looks like Simon will then need a transfusion of blood." She asks the medic something in her own language. He responds, and Arnelia translates for me. "The entire process will take about twenty minutes. After that, Simon will be healed enough to function normally."
"Thank you." I hug Arnelia and she returns it. "Thank you. After this, we will go back and make sure Chalmers never has the chance to terrorize you." We only have to deal with our huge mistake for another half hour or so.
Then, we have to return to 1912 and sacrifice those fifteen hundred people. It's not a thought that makes me feel good--and I know it's going to torment me for the rest of my life--but this reality is so much worse. If the Titanic sinks, none of these horrible mistakes will ever happen.
“Excuse me," Monica says, louder.
I face her. She stands by the doorway that leads back to the surveillance room.
"Why was the sky darkening outside?” Monica asks. “I noticed when we were passing through that second glass dome out there. Something didn't look right. It might just be me because I have no idea what's going on here, but I want an answer so I can at least breathe a big sigh of relief.”
Arnelia faces her. “What?”
"The sky was darkening,” she says, waving us back to where we came. “I'll show you."
I don't like the look on Arnelia's face. I face Simon. He lies there in the dome, unconscious. The light remains bright around him, bright and hopeful. I wonder if the tiny robots have gone to work on his leg yet. I don't see anything. Maybe they're so small that you can only see them with a microscope.
Arnelia says something I don't understand to the military guys around me. They back away as if to let me through. “We have to check this out. Come with me.”
I follow her back through the tunnel. Two of the military men follow us. I hate to leave Simon, but at least he looks comfortable now. And Isabel will just have to wait there for us to return.
We run down the metal tube. I miss the purple water that used to swirl around the walls. Yes, I miss the water. I can't believe I'm thinking that. It was a part of a world Arnelia was supposed to live in and enjoy.
We emerge into the lobby, the one with the glass dome that used to have the fountain. The glass dome is reinforced with metal that appears to be heavier than it was before the world changed. I don't remember that part being there.
“Oh, no,” Arnelia says, looking up. The two men stop behind her.
I remember the sky dimming before we even left the Time Lab. This is even worse now. There's a black cloud spreading over the sky above, blocking out the sun. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was some kind of black static, spreading over the sky and eating all the life out of it. But that doesn't make sense. It almost looks like a giant swarm of bugs.
One of the soldiers says something that must be a curse.
"What's this?” I ask.
Arnelia grabs my arm. She's shaking. “He's come for us. He's sent his own nanobots.”
"The what?”
“Just move!” She pulls me back towards the medical bay. "We have to get Simon and get out of here now!"
I brave one final look at the swarm right above us. Nanobots. Are those some kind of tiny robots, too?
There's a cracking sound right above our heads. I join Arnelia in running down the tunnel.
"They're trying to eat their way in,” she says. “We can't let them get us. Nanobots...they'll eat you alive. And make more copies of themselves from you.”
“What?” I explode.
“He's sent them. Chalmers.” She pulls at me with so much force that I nearly come off my feet, even though I'm already running. “We have to go. There's no time to let Simon heal.”
The cracking sound grows louder.
Tiny robots that eat you alive.
This isn't the way it should be here.
There should be happy people milling around and learning things and having great lives. Not this terror. Not this destruction.
We burst back into the medical bay, through soldiers who now stand and scramble and shout. The screens around us all flash red with warnings. I gasp for breath. Simon still lies inside the cocoon beyond the chaos. There's some kind of alarm going off though the whole complex, a loud, terrified beeping sound. Feet move. People run. Even the medics scramble out of the room. No one remembers Simon lying there in the bubble, encased in that glass. Isabel and Monica wait next to him, unsure what to do.r />
"Hey!" I shout at the last medic running out of the room. He faces me once, turns, and runs after everyone else, leaving us alone.
I have to break the glass and get him out of there. Those things are eating their way in right now. Because we screwed up. We have to get out of here and take Arnelia with us. The thought of getting eaten alive my millions of metal bugs far outstrips the terror of drowning or of sinking into a black sea to rest there for the rest of time.
Even if I have to die on the Titanic, it's a much better death than the alternative.
“Isabel. Monica. We need to grab Simon and run.”
“But he's still bleeding,” Isabel says.
“NOW!”
I search around for something, anything to smash the bubble and get Simon out. The cracking outside grows louder. It's almost like the cracking we heard in the Hub. Everything is falling apart.
There's nothing I can grab to break glass with. The world Arnelia inhabits is full of smooth edges and sterile walls. I have to beat at the glass with my fists. I kick. Scream at Simon to wake. None of it works. Then I hook my hands underneath the bubble and lift.
To my shock, the glass rises.
“Simon!” I have to shout over the alarm. "We have to go. Wake up!”
“Huh?” He makes a face as if upset that I'm bringing him back into the world.
“UP!"
He opens his eyes and grimaces. The device hasn't had time to heal him. The smell of his blood is there as much as ever, just now released by the rising of the bubble.
Monica helps to push him up. He swings his legs off the table. Arnelia is practically jumping up and down. We're the only ones left in the area. Footfalls echo from down the corridor. Everyone's probably running for the Time Lab. It's our only exit out of here. If we're still here and those bots destroy it, we're dead. It's all over.
Simon staggers to his feet. “This still hurts,” he says. “Are you sure the technology here is still fantastic?”
There's no time to explain. “If we don't leave now, we die. Now run!”
I let him lean on my shoulder again, which protests with his weight. Monica helps him and we're dragging Simon as fast as we can through the surveillance room. The computers still flash in red and the alarm is even louder here. No one's left. It's all panic. The cracking sound grows worse, like those nanobots are chewing their way down through the complex. Somewhere, I hear screams. This isn't going to be a pleasant death.