Time Castaways #1

by Liesl Shurtliff

  “I assure you I will not damage her,” said the captain. “These are all my own paltry attempts at art.” He gestured at all the ruined paintings and sketches. “I am never satisfied with them, and so they become my victims in battle instead. The Mona Lisa is an entirely different matter. But I think it’s provident that you are here, actually. I could use your sound intelligence, and you are, in fact, the reason I have the Mona Lisa in the first place.”

  “Me?” said Matt. “I didn’t do all that much, sir. I mean, I almost ruined the whole mission.”

  “I don’t mean the mission,” said the captain. “I’m talking about your message.”

  “My message?” said Matt, confused.

  The captain regarded Matt. He seemed to be calculating how much he should tell him, or perhaps wondering how much Matt already knew. But Matt’s ignorance must have been believable. The captain pulled open a drawer and took out a hat. And not just any hat. It was his Mets hat. The very one that had been stolen out of his locker last week. It had the exact fraying, the fabric curling back from the plastic of the brim.

  “Hey! Where did you get that?”

  “From you, Mateo,” said the captain. “You gave it to me, about a week before you boarded the Vermillion.”

  “No I didn’t! Someone stole it out of my locker!”

  Captain Vincent twirled the hat around his finger. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You do look younger now than when you gave me the hat.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Matt. “I never gave you my hat.”

  “Not yet, anyway,” said the captain.

  “You’re not making any sense,” said Matt.

  Captain Vincent smiled, clearly amused. “It’s a common conundrum of time travel. At this present moment, I’ve met you before, but you haven’t met me before, but when you gave me the hat last week it was just the opposite. You’d met me already, but I had yet to meet you.”

  Matt shook his head. He felt like the captain was speaking in riddles.

  “Let me see if I can simplify,” said Captain Vincent. “At your present, you are just beginning on your time-travel journeys, while I have already traveled extensively, but it appears you travel a great deal in your future, perhaps even more than myself, and you seemed to have a keen interest in our missions.”

  Matt gaped at the captain as this information sunk in. He would time-travel more in his future? He would travel back to his past and steal his own hat and give it to Captain Vincent, all for reasons he couldn’t fathom.

  “Sorry, but it’s all still a little confusing. Why did I give you my hat?”

  “To send a message,” said the captain, “or rather to send multiple messages. I believe you were letting me know that the time was drawing near for you to board the Vermillion, and when you did it would be time to take the Mona Lisa.”

  “How did you know that?”

  Captain Vincent tossed the hat on the desk so it landed upside down. “Take a look inside the hat.”

  Matt looked. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Look inside.” Captain Vincent tapped on the brim. Matt picked up the hat and brushed his thumb over the frayed fabric and noticed a grayish corner poking out. He pulled on it with his fingers and a folded-up piece of paper slid out. He unfolded it. It was an old newspaper article from France, Le Petit Parisien, and the headline article was the theft of la Joconde. He glanced down the article, reading the events of the famous heist he had been a part of not days ago. But that wasn’t the really interesting part. Written across the paper in blocky, uneven, eerily familiar handwriting were the words:

  LES YEUX TIENNENT LA CLÉ.

  The eyes hold the key.

  “That’s my handwriting,” said Matt.

  “If anyone would know, it would be you, wouldn’t it?” said the captain.

  “But I don’t remember writing this.”

  “No you wouldn’t, would you? Not if your future self wrote it.”

  Matt stared at the paper and message, utterly perplexed. “So . . . you think I gave you my hat with this newspaper and message, to tell you to steal the Mona Lisa and somehow get some message from her eyes?”

  “Something like that,” said the captain. “I’ve been studying her, convinced that there must be some hidden message in her eyes. There are theories that Da Vinci himself placed some kind of secret code in her eyes, and while you can see things that might look like numbers and letters, there was nothing that made any real sense. So I’m curious to know if you might have an idea of what you meant, seeing as you wrote the message?”

  “How could I?” said Matt. “Like you said, I wrote it in the future.”

  “Yes, but you know the way you think, the way your brain works, and you are connected to your future self, even if you haven’t yet experienced all the same things. That’s another interesting thing about time travel. We may travel to our past or future, but if you time-travel enough, eventually there is no past or future. It all just becomes one round. You may not always be conscious of the things you’ve done in the future or the past, but it is all there, and so, even though it is impossible for you to re-member, I believe there is a way for you to access what your future self meant, even if it’s just a general feeling or a hunch. I call it foremember.”

  Matt recalled that feeling of déjà vu he’d gotten after he’d seen his name in the mast. Was that what that was? Was he foremembering his future self doing that?

  Captain Vincent held the magnifying glass to Matt. “Why don’t you take a look and see what you think?”

  Matt took it and the captain turned the painting toward him. Matt focused on the eyes. He saw specks of paint that could be seen as numbers or letters, but nothing jumped out at him. He got no magical feeling. Matt looked up at the captain and shook his head.

  “Hmm,” said the captain. “I wonder . . . try taking a look at the back.” He turned the painting over so the wood panel faced Matt. “Take a look right about here.” He tapped near the middle of the wood. Matt gazed into the magnifying glass. At first he didn’t see anything. Just the grain of the wood. But then he caught it. There were very faint lines in the wood, straight grooves that went against the grain. They formed a rectangle. “It looks like a piece was cut out of the wood and then glued back in,” said Matt.

  “Exactly,” said the captain. “And see where it’s located on the painting? Right behind the eyes!”

  Matt nodded. “That makes more sense. I’ve always been pretty literal.” It was a problem in English sometimes. He didn’t always get all the metaphors and similes. Why anyone would compare a laugh to a ray of sunshine or say his love was a burning flame, he had no idea.

  “See? You’re beginning to feel it, I think,” said the captain, “that connection to your future self.”

  “So there’s something inside the painting then?” said Matt. “Right there?”

  “Only one way to find out.” Captain Vincent picked up the knife he’d held to Matt’s throat only minutes before.

  Matt had a sudden impulse to knock the knife out of the captain’s hand, grab the painting, and run. But he also wanted to know what, if anything, was inside the painting. Another message? Would it be from his future self again?

  Matt nodded. Captain Vincent pressed his knife into the wood. Matt winced. He had to remind himself it was just a painting, just wood. It almost felt like a real person. The captain drew his knife slowly in a small rectangle. He went over the spot a few times, going a little deeper each time, then gently pried the wood upward, revealing a small hollow in the panel.

  “Ah!” He pulled something out and held it up in the light of the lantern. It was a small gold key. “So your message was doubly literal.”

  “What does it unlock?” Matt asked.

  “Another thing I was hoping you might know,” said the captain.

  Matt shook his head. He couldn’t remember—or foremember—doing such a thing.

  “Well, no matter. We can sort that o
ut. Ah! Look, there’s an inscription.” Captain Vincent picked up his magnifying glass and placed the gold key beneath it. “Take a look,” he said, handing it over to Matt.

  Matt leaned forward and gazed into the magnifying glass. Along the handle of the key were three words.

  VIDEO ET TACEO

  “It’s Latin,” he said. Latin was not one of his 12/21 project languages, but he had studied it because he knew it would give him a good base for learning many other languages. “Video means ‘I see.’ I’m not certain what taceo means.”

  “I see and say nothing,” said the captain. “How clever.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “Haven’t the foggiest, but it’s a clue, I believe, telling us where we should go next to fulfill the mission.”

  “Sir, if you don’t mind my asking, what is the mission? I mean, where do you think this all leads? And why am I giving you messages from the future?”

  The captain cocked his head, regarding Matt. “That is a mystery even to myself. I’ve asked that question a few times. It’s unclear exactly what your motives are, whether you’re really trying to help me or serve your own ends.”

  Matt shifted uncomfortably. He couldn’t help but feel he was on some sort of trial here. “I . . . I can’t speak for my future self, not yet anyway, but it looks like I’m trying to help, doesn’t it? I mean, I do want to help now.” Which was perfectly true. His curiosity had been piqued to the point where he knew there was no going back.

  Captain Vincent smiled gently. “I believe you. You are a great time pirate, Mateo, or you will be someday. Perhaps the greatest of them all.”

  These words sent a thrill through Matt’s veins. “So . . . what’s the mission then? I mean, you must have some idea where this key leads, why it’s important.”

  “I do have an idea,” said the captain. “The truth is, I’ve been having a bit of trouble with the compass lately. It doesn’t always function properly. I know how to use it well enough, and we can travel nearly anywhere and to any time, but there are . . . glitches, shall we say, times and places I cannot access, and it only seems to be getting worse.”

  “Like it’s losing power,” said Matt.

  “Something like that,” said the captain.

  “So that’s bad,” said Matt. He knew he sounded like an idiot.

  “It’s inconvenient for now,” said the captain, “but it could be catastrophic in the future. Our future, I mean.”

  “How?”

  “What if the compass were to stop working while we were on a mission? Or what if it happened right now? We’d be stuck in Nowhere in No Time. Or worse, it could malfunction in the midst of travel and transformation, and we’d be stuck in a kind of limbo. Don’t be frightened, I don’t think it’s nearly to that point yet, but . . . I do believe it is along that path, slowly declining, eroding our timeline for travel.”

  “Sorry,” said Matt, “but if the compass is really at risk of breaking down in the middle of travel, why travel at all? It seems like flying on a malfunctioning airplane. No one would take that kind of risk. So why don’t we all just go home and live our lives out normally?”

  “Your logic is sound, Mateo, except I’m afraid it no longer applies to our situation. You see, we’ve all time-traveled already, which means ‘normal’ no longer exists for us as it does for others. We’re not living our lives on straight lines, we’re in a circular web, and who knows how many threads we’ve all touched? I at least have some idea of what I’ve done so far, but in the future there’s clearly much more, at least for you, Mateo. The rest of us seem to be somewhat . . . invisible.”

  Matt suddenly became alarmed. “You think you’re all going to die?”

  “I’m afraid it’s worse than that,” said Captain Vincent. “It’s more like we cease to exist.”

  “Is that what happened to Captain Bonnaire?” said Matt. “Did she cease to exist?”

  Matt winced under the captain’s sudden, sharp look. He remembered what Albert had said about never mentioning that name in front of the captain. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Don’t apologize,” said the captain. “I know what the crew whispers behind my back. No, she died under different circumstances. Though perhaps it would have been better if she had ceased to exist. Maybe that way I could have a hope of bringing her back, if we were to fix the compass.” He gazed at the slashed paintings of the dark-haired woman.

  “So what do we do now?”

  “We must find whatever it is this key unlocks,” said the captain. “This video et taceo might be a clue. Or not. With time travel things can come from anywhere.”

  “I can do some research,” said Matt. “I do have a knack for finding information others can’t.”

  “I’m sure you do,” said the captain, twirling the gold key between his fingers. “But we will likely have to travel a great deal to find what we’re looking for, and I can’t pretend this doesn’t concern me. You’re clearly very sensitive to time travel.”

  “I’m okay,” said Matt. “I can handle it, I promise.” Even though he still wasn’t feeling completely well, he was eager to travel again, to begin the search for whatever the key unlocked, and he didn’t want the captain to hold back just because he had a weak stomach.

  “We will monitor your condition closely, and we’ll go gradually at first, not too far, to hopefully condition your brain and body to travel,” said the captain. “Our missions could be strenuous, and I need you to be at your best. Now it’s very late. You should get back to bed.”

  Matt nodded. He was feeling a bit dizzy again, though he wasn’t sure whether that was due to time sickness or simply the information he’d just received.

  “Can I take this?” he said, pointing to his Mets hat.

  “Of course,” said the captain. “It is yours, after all.”

  “Thank you.” Matt took the hat and turned to leave.

  “Mateo?” said the captain.

  “Yes?”

  “I would ask you to please not tell the rest of the crew what we have discussed here this night.”

  “They don’t know?” said Matt.

  “They know their way of life is at risk, but not the full extent. I cannot afford for them to be consumed by fear. You may of course share with your brother and sister. I’ll leave that up to you.”

  Matt considered this, wondering if it was really fair that the crew not know, but then what could they really do about it? The captain was right. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss. “I won’t tell,” he said.

  “You must think me quite a villain,” said the captain, “allowing you and your siblings to board the Vermillion, knowing what I know. My only defense is that I do believe you may be the real key to fixing all of this. In the future at least, you seem to know something that can be of help. Still, if you feel this is too much for you, if you truly wish to have no part in this, I will take you home as I said I would.”

  Matt considered. Strangely he felt no sense of betrayal or malice toward the captain. Yes, it appeared that he had lured them on board the Vermillion, but it also seemed that they were supposed to go, and now he finally understood why. He had to save the ship and the compass. He didn’t know how, but he would figure it out. He felt the challenge settling in, and the desire to get to work.

  “No, I want to stay,” said Matt. “I want to help. I think Corey and Ruby will too.”

  The captain nodded. “Very well. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Matt padded out of the captain’s office. Santiago followed closely at his heels and shut the door after him. A moment later the lock clicked and Matt was left alone in the dark.

  He felt his way along the walls back to his room and flopped into his hammock. It was only then he realized that he never did find the bathroom, but he didn’t dare get out of bed again. He imagined taking another wrong turn and Brocco pulling a gun on him. Matt might not be so lucky in that case. So he lay in his hammock, wide awake, his mind buzzing with all that had just
happened and been said. It was a long night.

  13

  Wiley’s World City of Books

  “He did what to the Mona Lisa?” Ruby shrieked and dropped her sword. She’d been slashing at the air when Matt had woken up and began to tell her and Corey the events of the previous night, but he hadn’t really felt he had her attention until now. Corey had brought breakfast into their room, if you could call it breakfast. He was stuffing his face with a Twinkie and nearly choked at Ruby’s outburst.

  “Shh!” said Matt, looking toward the doorway of their room. “Be quiet. I don’t want anyone else to hear.” Matt had resolved to tell Corey and Ruby everything, but now he was having second thoughts. He hadn’t even gotten to the part where they could potentially cease to exist. But Matt knew he needed to tell them. He took a breath and plunged in.

  Matt explained about the key inside the Mona Lisa, his message from his future self, the mission to save the compass, and the consequences if they failed. Corey paled slightly as he spoke. Ruby’s expression shifted between fear and horror.

  “So unless we figure out how to fix the compass, we’ll never get home?”

  “Or worse,” said Matt. “We could go home and then one day not exist anymore.”

  “Like poof, we’re gone?” said Corey, a glob of Twinkie cream filling at the corner of his mouth.

  “Something like that,” said Matt.

  “What does the key go to?” Corey asked. “What does it unlock?”

  “I don’t know, and the captain doesn’t either, but the captain thinks it has something to do with the compass, like it will lead us to something that can fix it.”

  “So what do we do now?” said Ruby.

  “Well, I told the captain we’d help him,” said Matt. “We don’t have to, though. He did say he’d take us home if we didn’t want to take the risk.”

  Matt half expected Ruby to say they should go home, that this was far too dangerous, but to his surprise Ruby pressed her lips together in a firm line and said, “No, I think we need to stay and help. It’s like you said before, what good will it do to go home if we suddenly disappear? And it looks like our future selves are trying to help, or at least future Matt is. That’s enough for me.”