“Great, so the only way is back to the cave,” I said, disappointed. I’d hoped to walk down to the river valley.
“Not that you’re complaining again.”
“Sorry.”
“How often do you get the chance to go exploring like this?” Gemma asked.
“Well quite often actually,” I replied with a grin, suddenly ashamed at complaining. “At least we weren’t being chased by wild animals,” I added trying to appear more positive.
Gemma surveyed the mountainside. She noticed a small ledge about two metres above us.
“Why don’t we sit up there and have lunch? I’m starving … and it would lighten our backpacks.”
“Great idea.”
We climbed up to the ledge, and sat leaning against the rock face looking out over the treetops, and distant hills. It wasn’t too damp; an overhang higher up the mountainside had sheltered our picnic area from the worst of the storm.
“Ummm, cheese and raspberry jam,” said Gemma, taking a bite of her sandwich. “Curious.”
“Vanessa probably ordered them,” I said with a grin. “I expect she’s given me cat food and syrup. I’m not in her good books ’cause I wouldn’t sleep with her.”
I opened my sandwiches: ham, lettuce and tomato; my theory was blown. After lunch we climbed down from our ledge, headed back uphill past the cave, and tried make our way through the thick undergrowth we’d spotted earlier. This proved impossible without scratching ourselves badly on the large, jagged thorns, so we decided to explore the opening the at the back of the cave instead. After crawling back inside we took out our torches and checked they both worked. They did.
“Ladies before gentlemen,” said Gemma as she squeezed through the narrow opening at the back of the cave. I followed her, glad that I’d never had trouble with my weight, but had I weighed a few more kilograms I wouldn’t have been able to get through the space.
Once on the other side, our torches shone down a narrow passageway cut through the rock by a river.
“Let’s not get lost,” I said.
“There’s only one way we can go so we can’t get lost,” replied Gemma, as we walked around a corner and the passageway split into two. “Oh, now we’ll have to try not to get lost. Can the vortex transmitter find us down here?”
“Yes, Dad said it could track us through solid rock over five miles thick.”
We took the left passageway, following it for about ten metres before it widened into a large cave where we could hear the sound of a rushing stream somewhere deeper in the cave system. On our right were what appeared to be manmade shelves chipped out of the rock.
“Well we weren’t the first ones to find this cave,” said Gemma. I shone my torch on the cave wall above the shelves, the light picking out what appeared to be ancient pottery.
Gemma climbed up to have a look. She lifted up an old jug, which broke to pieces in her hand.
“This must have been thousands of years old,” she said. “Wait, there’s some more.” This time she didn’t risk picking anything up, but shone her torch on an upturned plate and gently smoothed some loose dirt away with her fingertips. “There’s an inscription on here, can I borrow your hanky?”
“Maybe people should start carrying these about again,” I said as I took the small piece of cloth out of my jeans pocket and passed it to her. “Can you read what it says?”
Gemma lightly wiped a little more powdery dirt off the plate.
“Made in China.”
Somewhere, further back in the cave, something moved, startling us. I shone my torch in the direction of the movement and into the eyes of a small, very scared child. She couldn’t have been much more than five or six years old. Her shoulder length, dark, curly hair perfectly matched her dark brown eyes, and she wore a dirty, scraggly dress and had bare feet.
“Don’t be scared,” said Gemma as she climbed down from the shelves. The little girl froze for a moment. “My name’s Gemma, what’s yours?”
The shock of seeing us must have proved too great for the child, who turned and ran down another passage.
“Come on,” I said excitedly, “there must be more people here somewhere, she’s too young to be a Jumper.” At fifteen years old, Tim Hall was one of our youngest Jumpers. The little girl had disappeared from sight, but we followed her down the passageway hoping we would be able to find her.
Suddenly, without warning, we felt something like a net being thrown over our heads. Several men grabbed and forced us to the floor securely tying our arms behind our backs and our legs together. Next they covered our heads with rough, scratchy sacks, which they tied around our necks so neither Gemma nor I could wriggle out of them. The men dragged us feet first over the rough stony ground for quite a distance; it was no good struggling. My shoulders bumped into rocks several times and I heard Gemma call out in pain quite a few times. I struggled to keep my head from hitting the ground, as I didn’t want to get knocked out or even killed. I couldn’t tell if we were being dragged down one long passageway or a network of passages, but our journey led consistently downhill, sometimes quite steeply. Gradually the ground beneath us became softer and I realised I was being dragged over wet sand. Apart from our shouts, the whole exercise had been executed in silence. I panicked, wondering if our captors were going to throw us off a cliff or into an indoor lake, or something worse. My head covering didn’t allow me to me see a thing, so if they meant Gemma and me harm we wouldn’t have had any notice. I felt that every second could have been my last, although I reasoned that if our assailants meant us harm they would have killed us straight away.”
Eventually we were untied and left lying on a dry sandy floor. I was still tangled in the net, but managed to free my hands and take the covering off my head. Gemma was lying near me in a huge cavern lit in places by flaming lamps wedged in wall crannies. I rubbed my hurting shoulders and pulled off the rest of my netting, then helped Gemma untangle herself and stand up.
Our attackers stood a little way off, like a security detachment making sure we weren’t a threat. A few metres behind them, two men and a woman stood watching us. All wore badly worn and ripped clothing probably made out of the same rough material as the sacks that had covered our heads.
The first man, bald and possibly in his late fifties, spoke, “How did you get to the upper sanctuary without passing though the windy passage? We would have seen you if you had travelled that way.”
I replied, “I don’t know where the windy passage is. We entered the cave system from a small opening behind a cliff.”
“A younger man with a trimmed, dark beard said, “We know that entrance, but there is no way of getting up there unless you can fly. Can you fly?” he asked, amused.
Gemma spoke this time, “We really did come in that way. We saw a little girl and followed her, hoping we would find other people.”
The cave dwellers backed off a little, suddenly concerned.
One of their security team anxiously commented, “If they came from the outer-world they could carry the poison and kill us all! No one who ventures out there is ever allowed to re-enter the cave system, not even my own small son. Remember how I had to leave him outside to die. My wife ran out to him and I lost her too.”
“We won’t give you the poison,” Gemma assured them. “My friend and I had a vaccination to make us immune. It won’t hurt us and we can’t pass it on to anyone so you’re all safe. The poison comes from the sky. There are windows in time when it doesn’t fall, but no one knows how long each window will last or when it will occur.” She said this so no one would go outside to see if it was safe, catch the virus and infect everyone else. “These few hours are such a window.”
I said, “Please excuse my ignorance, but if you understand this, why haven’t you blocked this entrance so no one can use it?”
“The woman, probably about the same age as the bearded man, spoke for the first time, “Our legends state that two visitors will come from the distant past and enter the c
ave system by this entrance. We leave it open for them.”
The first man asked where we came from. Gemma answered, “A city called Hereford.”
The bald man still doubted us. I could tell from his good muscle tone that he was a manual worker.
“I have not heard of this place. Is it across the waters?” he asked.
I didn’t have any idea which continent we were on, or if we had come from overseas so I answered, “We travelled a long way so you probably don’t know our home town.”
Another of the security detail held up the torch I’d dropped when we were attacked. “What is this?” he asked looking thoughtful.
“It provides light like your burning torches,” I said.
The woman spoke again, “Show me.” She took the torch from the man and passed it me. I took it from her, pressed the on switch, and shone the light into a darker part of the cavern. The cave dwellers looked from one to another in amazement; they hadn’t seen anything like this before.
“It gives light but does not burn,” she said in wonder. “What else do you have in those bags, and what is that thing you wear in that shoulder pocket?”
“It’s a handgun for protection from wild animals,” I answered, opening my backpack and emptying the contents onto the floor. The two men walked over.
“Stand back,” said the older man. I took a step back while he poked my belongings with a stick. “What are these?”
“Spare batteries for the torch, a compass and some matches.”
“Show us what they are for.”
I demonstrated the compass and showed them how to strike a match, and then, taking the gun clip from the jeans pocket, I demonstrated how to change it with the gun clip already in my handgun. The cave dwellers were all amazed.
“Does the word vortex mean anything to you?” the woman asked.
I tried not to show my surprise at hearing anyone from this timeframe using that term, but, before I could mask it, she saw it in my eyes. As if suddenly gaining a revelation, she looked to the men and said, “It’s them. Our legends say the strangers will come from our past bringing technology. It’s the only explanation for someone coming from the cliff face.” She turned back to face me, “When do you come from?”
“Eleven thousand years ago,” I answered. Then checking my watch I continued, “And we have to go back soon. You’ll see a vortex yourself in a while.”
The younger man said, “He has a time piece, it is them. We have to tell you things. Listen to me.”
Gemma, the two younger people, and I sat down. The woman called out, “Sari, come,” and the little girl we’d seen in the pottery cave ran over to her and sat with us. I noticed the woman had the same deep brown eyes as the child and realised this was a family: a man, his wife and their daughter.
The older man wasn’t so trusting and backed off a little, choosing to stand at a distance.
The bearded man said, “I am Chenzira, and this is my wife Rachetta.” Then gesturing to the older man, he added, “Sorry, my wife’s father doesn’t trust outsiders. Tell us about your time.”
I told them, “Where we come from it’s safe to live outside. The earth is very highly populated and technology is everywhere: in every home, from appliances that cook food to machines that wash our clothes. We have machines to help us travel great distances at great speeds, and even those that fly and carry people across the seas and to the other far sides of the world.”
“Are your people happy?” asked Sari in childish innocence.
Gemma answered, “Yes, most of the time. Some people aren’t, I suppose.”
Her parents smiled. “The wisdom of a child,” said her father, nodding. “There’s no point having all those things if you are not happy. We live simply, like hundreds of generations before us. We channel water from the stream inside the cave system, and harvest vegetables and cotton for make clothing from the caves at the top of the complex. Their roofs fell in generations ago, but back then they still had enough technology to make transparent structures that covered the huge holes while still allowing the suns rays to pass through and nourish the plants. Everyone, including our small children, take turns tending the crops so their eyes and skin gets used to the bright light of the outer-world. We cannot use the rainwater, as it is sometimes poisonous, making our people die, but the rocks filter the poison out so the river inside the cave system is always safe.
“That’s amazing,” said Gemma, “I’d love to live like this.”
While we’d been speaking the older man had disappeared, but now returned bringing with him many other people: adults and children. They gradually filled the cavern and stood all around us.
“Tell us more,” said another man who had just made his way through the crowd. He looked older that anyone I’d ever seen before and walked with a rough walking stick. Gemma and I stood up.
“Yes Sir,” I said, giving him the respect I felt a man of his age deserved. Are you the leader?”
“In a manner or speaking. I govern this section of the caves, which are extensive. Never mind about that, we need to know what you can tell us about the past and our future.”
“We haven’t got long, the vortex will soon be here,” I said, “but I’ll tell you as much as I can. The poison, which we call a virus, started falling from the sky around eleven thousand years ago, just after our natural time. It came from beyond the stars. We had the technology to save the people, but many people didn’t believe us. You must be the descendants of those who believed and were saved from the disaster. We knew the virus would continue falling intermittently for thousands of years. If we could give you the vaccinations Gemma and I had you would all be safe and could live outside.”
I wondered if it would be possible to send vaccinations to this time, but without the ability to replicate more vaccine, the next generation would be in the same position as this one. It was clear that the protection the vaccine gave wasn’t passed on genetically, so vaccinations would have to be applied to each successive generation; no one could rely on being covered by his or her parents’ immunisation.
I continued, “Some of us were given the ability to travel through time and see what had happened to the world and to mankind. This is our final journey through time until we are sent twenty thousand years into our future. At this time there will be no more virus and it will be safe to go outside.
“The vortex is a doorway through time and will open in this cave in a few minutes. When we step though it, and return to our natural time, we will tell your ancestors that you are alive and well and their work has not been in vain. However, no one must follow us because travelling back in time would kill them.”
As I was speaking Gemma touched my arm saying, “Behind you.”
I turned and saw the first few sparkles of a vortex opening a few metres behind us. Several of the people gasped and everyone stepped back away from the light, which gradually grew to its usual size. Gemma and I stood up.
The leader looked around the cavern and shouted to his people in an imposing voice, “Stay where you are. Do not enter the vortex!” As I watched parents grabbed their children protecting them from the strange phenomenon.
Speaking to Gemma and I more gently he added, “You must go now. Thank you for visiting us.”
“Thank you for listening to us Sir. It’s been a privilege to speak to you and meet you all.”
Gemma smiled at the awestruck faces and added, “If you watch carefully you will see some of your ancestors through the temporal vortex.”
Gemma and I took a final look around the cavern and stepped into the sparkling light. Several people had gathered in the vortex room and were staring at the cave dwellers in amazement. They realised they could be looking at their descendants, and it’s not every day you get to do that.
Suddenly, as the view of the future began to dim, Rachetta’s father, the first cave dweller to have spoken to us, ran forward towards the vortex. Several cave dwellers grabbed at him and tried to restrain him, but he
pulled free.
Rachetta shouted after him, “Father, no! You’ll be killed!” but he ignored her cry and leapt through the time portal landing in the vortex room where he stood looking around in amazement. He had never seen technology like this or people wearing such strange clothing.
Vanessa spoke into the intercom, “Commander, come to the vortex room immediately, we have a visitor from another time.” She tried to remain calm but I could tell she was anxious.
“I’m less than a minute away,” he hurriedly responded.
Vanessa had grabbed our visitor’s attention. He walked over to her, reaching out to touch her brightly coloured blouse, intrigued by the colours and the delicate fabric. Behind him the vortex faded and closed, permanently cutting him off from his time and all he knew. There could be no return journey.
C had just entered the room with a medic and immediately took command of the situation saying, “Make room everyone.” They all stepped back allowing the medic to approach the visitor, who was beginning to age. His nose seemed to have become more prominent and his sandy coloured eyebrows had become white. Tufts of hair grew in his ears and pigmentation spots appeared on the back of his wrinkly hands. His muscular arms were becoming thinner and his skin, translucent.
Deep wrinkles appeared on his face, which took on a leathery appearance. Two Section workers caught him as he stumbled backwards, while a third placed a chair behind him. The old man collapsed onto it.
“What’s happening to me,” he rasped. “I feel so weak.”
Vanessa spoke gently, “It’s the effect of time travel I’m afraid. You were warned not step through the vortex.”
Our visitor took a deep, painful breath, grimaced, then leant foreword. Crossing his arms in front of himself, he grabbed hold of his chest. As we watched he took on the appearance of a person hundreds of years old, or what I would imagine someone of that age to look like. Several people recoiled and looked away as he slumped forward: dead.
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