Escape Velocity: The Anthology
Page 34
Finally, after much soul searching, and also I actually had to admit that I was a little concerned for my brother, I pushed the green backward button.
Immediately a holo-screen appeared in front of my face. On it was written the date: March 15, 2009. Before I could blink, the date changed: slowly at first, March 10, 2005. Then it went back from there quicker and quicker the longer I watched.
January 15, 2002 flashed before my eyes. It was quite thrilling just watching the numerals go backwards. Not because that was all that was required to excite me — no, it was because, knowing that I was supposed to be in a time machine, that this was actually happening.
January 9, 1999 seemed to come round rather quickly. Then, with another blink of an eye, the date read: April 18, 1927.
My head was spinning with the now blurred numbers and letters that just whirred faster and faster on the holo-screen until they were unintelligible. I tried to keep up with them, but could only occasionally grab information from that blur.
The last date I remembered before the screen blazed orange was: June 30, 1880. I stabbed the red button.
The holo-screen disappeared, as did Frank’s house. I was suddenly standing in the middle of a railway platform of all things. I looked up at the sign swaying gently in the breeze; squeaking as it did so. Glenrowan, it said. I then had a terrible sinking feeling.
Not only did this time machine work –god my brother was the smart one — but I was also in a place, from what I remember from my high school history, as a place that I would rather not be at — for if this was Glenrowan he could really be in a pickle.
I decided there and then to find my brother. If nothing else, it would give me satisfaction enough to see him; just so I could smack him one for being such a smart ass. Inventing a time machine; what a show-off.
I looked around the railway station. It looked deserted. I knew the date meant something. Knowing my brother, he would not have chosen a random date. He would have chosen an important date, for he, unfortunately, was just as curious about things as I was.
It looked like it was just after dawn. The magpies had begun their caroling, as had all the other birds; even a kookaburra or two laughed in the distance. I had to think about what had happened here. It was sure taxing remembering history. I cursed myself for not paying attention all those years ago — well, I was paying attention, but it happened to be of the female variety, that’s all. Damn my stupid hormones. Damn Frank and his invention. Where the heck was he?
I then remembered the date again. June 30. It came to me like a bolt of lightning. June 30 was the date that Ned Kelly walked into the police line, basically giving himself up after the siege at the Glenrowan hotel. I looked around in desperation. All seemed calm now, but soon things were going to get interesting.
I noticed a shotgun by one of the buildings. Picking it up, I found comfort in the fact that it was loaded. I wondered whom it belonged to, but then quickly dismissed that thought. I had no time for such pondering. This whole situation was creeping me out.
But where was Frank? I could think of nothing else to do but run into the bush just beyond the railway station. Mist swirled about my feet as they pounded the soft sandy ground. Onward I ran. To what, I did not know. I just knew I had to get away from that railway station. I also knew that I had to find Frank, if only to get us out of here. I had no idea how to get back to 2009. Damn my curiosity.
I was almost bowled over in my blind run by what lay on the ground. Thankfully, I managed to catch myself from falling by desperately gripping onto an overhanging branch of one of the stringy bark trees that populated the area in such great number.
I turned, on the ground was a man; large, bearded, and half-dressed in the now famous armor of Ned Kelly. Holy crap, it was Ned Kelly; I looked just like him — or more to the point, he looked just like me. He looked rather worse for wear let me tell you. The poor man had obviously lost a lot of blood. He was wounded. I could see that even in the early dawn light. I then saw something that chilled my blood.
Just beyond the great man that was Ned, there lay Frank. He too looked injured. My brother, my little brother, dressed like a policeman of the 1880’s, had been captured by Ned Kelly.
“Frank!” I screamed. I could think of nothing else to say. Before I knew it, Ned was up on his feet and coming towards me; he was obviously as surprised as I was by all this.
It all happened so fast those next few moments. I could see him approaching me. I could hear him saying something — actually, shouting something. However, to me it was incoherent, unintelligible even. I did not know the how or why of it, but I raised that shotgun and fired. Call it self-defense, call it insanity. I could not tell in my current confused condition.
All I know, and all that I could remember from that moment was the smell of the gunpowder and the ringing of the shotgun. One thing was certain: I had just killed Ned Kelly, the most famous figure in Australian history.
“Why you stupid son-of-a- AHH! You’re such a dumb ass,” Frank yelled at me.
“What the —”
“Don’t ‘what the’ at me. Have you not heard of the butterfly effect?”
“No... well, yes. It was a movie, wasn’t it?” I replied, shocked by all that had just transpired. I could now see that Frank’s arm was injured.
“A what?” Now it was Frank’s turn to be dumbfounded.
“A movie... you know the one starring Aston Kutcher... The butterfly effect you mentioned.”
“Err, no, Michael,” Frank sighed. “Well, yes, the idea of the movie was basically the same as what I —”
“I really don’t know,” I snapped.
“Don’t know what?”
“About it... I can’t stand Aston Kutcher — well, not since he’s been with Demi anyway.”
Frank had an expression on his face. A look that could only be described as the ‘calm before the bomb dropped’ look. His cheeks were gaining quite a color as he stood, stupefied by what I had said to him. He obviously found it irritating. I smiled. Glad that I had annoyed him.
“Well, even though you don’t deserve it, I’m going to tell you anyway.” He forced himself to say. “Any moment from now, Ned, the one you just filled with lead, was going to return to the Glenrowan hotel in search of this brother and his friend. His cousin had only just left. Do you know what this means? Do you?”
“No, I don’t. He dies anyway, doesn’t he? So what the difference? I just put him out of his misery sooner. I’d rather die quickly than be hanged, wouldn’t you?” I replied, proud of myself that I had stuck up for myself.
“You are not only stupid, you’re an idiot, too,” Frank frowned. It was the worst feeling I had ever had, seeing him frown at me, and hearing him say those words with such feeling.
I could only reply by retaliating. “Well, we wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t been so smart and invented that machine. You’re, you’re the most short-sighted smart person I have ever had the misfortune of knowing. So there!” I snorted.
“We have to fix it,” he suddenly said, looking down at the now lifeless body of Ned Kelly.
“What?”
“We have to make sure Ned Kelly goes to that hotel. We have to make sure he is captured by the police, and more importantly, we have to make sure he is hanged for his crimes. Otherwise —”
“Otherwise what?”
“Otherwise, history could be damaged... Forever. That’s what the butterfly effect is about. Change a small thing in the past, and well, it could have desperate consequences for the future. I shudder to think of what may or may not happen.”
“How are we supposed to do that? I mean, from what you are telling me we can’t simply just travel back a bit and, well, make sure this doesn’t happen.”
“Time is a funny thing. It’s sort of like a very temperamental photocopier, for the lack of a better analogy; you never know quite what to expect and it certainly never does what it’s supposed to,” Frank began. “Changing one thing is bad
enough, changing another to fix an error is like playing with a bomb. I certainly would not like to do that and I really, really don’t want you to do any more damage to the time-line —”
“Hey! You’re the one that got me into this mess,” I said, folding my arms. “It was you that left me that note. ‘Dearest Michael, if I’m not home in time for breakfast on my birthday, come and get me. Help me. I’m useless. I can only invent a time machine. I really have no idea’...”
“Enough!”
“Enough, or what?”
“Enough, or I’ll...so help me...I’ll,” Frank had that look on his face again. This time his fists were clenched, and I could see that he was really trying with all his might to control himself.
“Go on then. Hit me. See how far it will get you.”
There was a long silence between us. Well it seemed like a long silence. We just stared at each other as gunmen did just before a duel.
Frank finally spoke up. “You’ll have to become Ned Kelly. We can’t change history.”
I blinked slowly, then opened and closed my mouth. I noticed that nothing came out. I wanted to say what a stupid and complete idiot he was for even entertaining such a notion. Nevertheless, he was probably right. I did understand some things; I knew playing around with time was probably dangerous. Besides, I was about Ned’s height and build; and really a natural choice.
I’m sure, if I was as smart as my brother I could have thought of something else. I could not. I kicked myself — yes, I physically kicked myself. Frank, I noticed, did not seem to care what I looked like as I did so. He knew, as I knew, that we just had to do something to help rectify this mess.
“Promise me one thing, Frank.”
“Anything, Michael.”
“Promise you won’t let me hang.”
Frank smiled. “I am already a member of the local constabulary. It won’t be too difficult gaining access to certain places. Besides,” he winked, “I have a plan.”
“Oh dear.”
“Don’t be like that,” he said as he squatted down by Ned’s body. “Here, put on his clothes and armor, and prepare to meet history head on, dear brother.”
I sneered, “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t now, would I?”
“How, in god’s name are you going to get Ned’s body into the gallows, seeing as he’s already dead? Don’t forget, just before they... well, you know, he said that famous line, didn’t he?”
“Oh, yeah... What was it?”
“Something about ‘such is life’ or some such thing from what I remember.”
“Yeah, that’s right. He said: ‘Arr well, I suppose it has to come to this. Such... is life’. What a great line to die with, I must say,” Frank said, imitating a growl as he quoted Ned’s line. Which seemed funny, we really did not know what he sounded like. I really didn’t give him a chance to say too much at all.
“You really are enjoying this,” I said as I clambered into Ned’s trousers.
“Do you think that I came ill-prepared?”
“Now let me see... Yes, I do. You got yourself into trouble for a start. Fancy being captured by the very man you were studying. Actually, for that matter, why disguise yourself as a constable? I mean really, that’s damn stupid if you ask me. Why else do you think I’m here, other than saving your backside?”
“Besides that,” Frank smiled. “Anyway, I was in no real danger. Ned has a destiny, after all.”
“Show-off,” I mumbled under my breath as I struggled putting on the breastplate. “Gimme a hand with this, will you? It weighs a ton.”
Moments later, we were ready. After a lot of swearing about how I was supposed to do anything in the armor, let alone walk: I was not used to this armor as Ned was. I felt ridiculous, and part of that reasoning was that I was now the prime target of every police officer in the state of Victoria. I made Frank perfectly aware of my feelings, too.
“Now, get to that hotel. Pronto!” Frank said. “Oh, and don’t forget, you’re supposed to be wounded in your arm, hand, and foot. So limp like you are, all right.”
“You’re really pushing your luck,” I said as I turned back to him. I noticed he was already dragging Ned’s body away.
“I have to move this body to a safe place. Then I will get to my supplies. Like I said earlier, I came prepared. I won’t let you down, Michael.”
“Smart ass!”
I made my way to the hotel. As the sun rose higher in the sky, and the last of the mists swirled by my feet, I, disguised as Ned Kelly went back to Glenrowan as it was written in the pages of history.
I stepped out into the open and saw the hotel and the railway station. I could not hear very well under the great iron helmet. In fact, it was almost impossible to do anything. I trudged on, putting on my fake limp; which was somewhat funny, seeing as Frank didn’t tell me which foot I was supposed to be shot in.
My view of the world was only what I could see through the slit in the helmet. The next thing I remember there was a lot of shouting. Suddenly policemen, dressed like my brother, were in front of me. I saw them step back as I approached. Were they afraid of me? I shook my head. It was not me they were afraid of, but Ned Kelly. My breathing reverberated through the helmet.
Then all hell broke loose. I could hear the bullets bounce off the armor; with a metallic pinging noise that sounded like heavy rain on a tin roof. It was quite surreal, but I marched on. Then I felt a searing pain in my left leg. Then another, this time in my right leg. I had been shot, and due to the force of the bullets that had found my legs and the weight of the armor, I fell to the ground and saw a perfect cobalt blue sky above. Then, obscuring that view were the faces of all those policemen. I had been captured.
I awoke in a jail cell with Frank looking over me. “You have to sit tight for a while,” he whispered. “Remember, Ned has to be put on trial. Don’t worry, Michael.”
I groaned.
“They have done the best they can to see to the wounds. But when we get back, I’ll make sure you are better treated.”
“I’m gonna kill you for this when we get back.”
“Only this is all over. Then I’d like to see you try,” Frank smiled.
I blanked out again.
In the few months that followed, I was paraded in front of the people of Melbourne, given a sham trial, and sentenced to execution by hanging until I was dead. All as it was supposed to be. Frank helped me all the way; making sure I acted as Ned would have — sorry, did act; I get confused so easily.
It then came to the day before the execution, a Wednesday I believe: November 10th. I have to be honest, I was more than nervous. You could say I was in a state of panic. I had not heard from Frank in nearly a week — well, not since the trial anyway.
I really could not do anything other than sit on the cell bench and feel sorry for myself. I looked down at my hands, sighed, and then thought about what would have happened if I didn’t press that backwards green button. Damn my curiosity.
Just then, the cell door clanked. I straightened up and in walked Frank. What a relief that was let me tell you. I had never been so happy to see him.
“Were have you been?” I snapped.
“Busy. It’s not easy setting up a dead man so he can be hanged, you know. Do you even realize the inherent problems involved with preserving a body in the 1800’s for months? Mmm, do you?”
“No, Frank,” I said, looking down to the cell floor. “I don’t — what do you mean, preserving a body? What have you got planned?”
“Never mind, you’ll find out tomorrow. I don’t want to get caught explaining it to you.”
“Oh, I see, not smart enough to understand,” I said with venom.
“What? Calm down, Michael —”
“Calm down! Calm down! You’re not the one in my place. You’re not the one about to be hanged.”
“Really. So you think I’ve been doing nothing all this time?”
&nbs
p; There was a sliding noise, and the peephole in the cell door was slid open. “Is everything all right in here, sir?” A voice bellowed.
Frank turned to the door. “Yes, thank you. I’ll be out in a minute, officer.”
The cover slid back. There was now a silence.
This time, however, I broke it. “I will be a martyr to millions if you don’t get me out of this, Frank.”
Frank turned to the door, obvious that he had heard enough. “First thing tomorrow I will transfer you to the condemned cell. It will be there that I will make the switch. You’ll have to shave.”
“What, my beard?”
“Yes, your beard,” Frank said. “Having a beard is kind of bad for your health right about now, if you know what I mean.”
I nodded.
Just as Frank was about to leave, he added: “Oh and if things don’t turn out for the best, I want you to know that I have always looked up to you. You have been my pillar all these years.”
It was the longest night of my life. I just lay there on the bench staring at the ceiling. Making shapes in my mind and thinking about the last thing my brother had said to me. The sentence reverberated through my mind. I had been his pillar. It was possibly the most important thing I had ever been told in my life. Damn Frank, why did he have to be so honest?
The cell door was flung open. In the doorway stood Frank.
“It’s time,” he said solemnly.
“I don’t suppose there’s a chance of a retrial?”
Frank smiled. “It’s all taken care of, big brother.”
He then unlocked the shackles from the wall and escorted me to the condemned cell.
We arrived quicker than I would have liked. If my hands weren’t shackled together with my feet, I would have bitten my fingernails to their quicks by now. I was a nervous wreck.
“Get in,” he commanded once he had unlocked the door with one of the massive keys that hung from his belt. He was obviously putting on a show; as I did notice many guards looking on with curious glances and snide remarks. Frank deserved an Oscar for his acting; he very nearly convinced me that he was a hard-as-nails prison officer.