“What are these spaces for?” she asked the Patroller, to make quite sure.
He looked a little embarrassed. “Well,” he said, “the story goes that those are for Faber John’s polarities. They’re supposed to come back to the pillar at the end of time. That’s only a story, of course—but we keep them empty that way in case.”
“You should have known that,” Vivian said to Jonathan.
He went pink and took on his most lordly look. “If you live in this place,” he said, “you leave the Gnomon for tourists. Let’s go. The procession’s nearly got here.”
“You get the best view in the City from this window here,” the Patroller said, thinking that Jonathan was in a hurry to see the ceremony. “You’re welcome to watch from here with me.”
“Oh good!” said Sam. He slid between the case with the hat in and the case with the glove and pressed his face to the window beyond. Vivian slid in beside him. Jonathan sighed and leant on the case with the hat.
They were looking straight down the hill at the zig-zag steps. The procession had just reached the bottom of them and the elderly Annuate Guard who walked in front carrying a huge golden spear was starting to climb up. Behind him came Jonathan’s father, stiff and tall in his pleated coat and high head-dress, and behind that a mass of people in robes of all colours, with banners, standards, pots streaming red smoke, and large feather fans. As the Sempitern put his foot on the lowest step, there came a tremendous noise. It burred through the room and through their heads. The museum cases vibrated.
“There goes the clock,” said the Patroller, leaning beside Jonathan. “I must say the Sempitern does know how to time his ceremonies. That’s perfect!”
The Sempitern started to climb. Beside him, a figure in green was suddenly trying to struggle up the steps too.
“Only the Endless Ghost,” the Patroller said soothingly.
Vivian was having trouble with the vibrations from the clock. She nodded, then shook her head to clear it. She had scarcely got her head comfortable when the noise came again. It seemed to set the whole tower quaking. Below, Sempitern Walker climbed past the Endless Ghost without looking at it. The rest of the stately colourful procession followed, ignoring the desperate green man, sweeping round and beside and through him. The clock struck again. And one person in the procession noticed the struggling green ghost. Vivian had glimpses of him, a grey figure among the coloured robes, bending to stretch a helping hand out to the ghost. He seemed puzzled when his hand went through the ghost, and he tried again and again, more pleadingly each time. The Endless Ghost simply went on struggling up the steps and the procession ignored both of them. The clock struck four, five, six, while stately people climbed past.
“Iron Guardian,” Sam whispered, making the window misty with his breath.
“Poor thing,” Vivian murmured. She felt sorrier than ever for the Iron Guardian. He seemed quite unable to tell that it was only a ghost he was trying to touch. She knew why he kept trying. The struggling man was the ghost of the Watcher of the Gold. And he’s going to try to bring the Gold to the tower and something’s going to stop him! Vivian thought. She turned to look at Jonathan. He had recognised the Watcher too. He was pale with alarm.
But the clock went on striking and the procession went on climbing. They lost sight of the Endless Ghost and the Iron Guardian, when Sempitern Walker’s beautiful timing brought him to the top of the steps exactly on the stroke of twelve and their view of the steps was blocked by real people in colourful regalia.
“I’m afraid we have to leave now,” Jonathan said politely.
“I’m staying,” said Sam.
“All right. But V.S., and I have to get something to eat before we go to Dr. Wilander,” Jonathan said. He and Vivian thanked the Patroller and left the museum room by the steps on the outside of the tower. That way, they came out near the back and avoided the ceremony.
Vivian was still troubled by the vibrations from the bell. Her legs shook. Down on the ground, she felt as if the solid earth of Endless Hill was quivering. “The sound does that to some people,” Jonathan said. “It’ll go. Well—what do you think? It was so obvious that the Casket wasn’t there that I think it may be.”
“You’re being too clever,” Vivian said, and only just stopped herself adding, “As usual!” She said patiently, “Whoever arranged that tower was trying to show people the Casket was somewhere else. Sam said so. That’s the kind of thing he’s usually right about.”
“Then he’s being too clever, and so are you,” Jonathan said. “We haven’t a clue where else to look. You’ll have to ask Dr. Wilander this afternoon.”
“You ask him,” said Vivian.
“No, you do it,” said Jonathan. “You got him going beautifully last time, and it looks better if you do it. I’m supposed to know about the City.”
“But you know how to get round him best,” said Vivian.
They argued about it all the while they were eating seaweed shrimp sundae in Aeon Square and, the whole time, Vivian went on feeling as if the ground was shaking. It can’t be the clock still! she thought. “Jonathan, can’t you honestly feel something like the earth trembling?”
The look Jonathan shot at her told her that he could. “I was hoping it was the bell,” he said.
“Then the City’s got to the end of time,” Vivian said. “This is it.”
“Yes, but which it?” Jonathan said. “Is it shaking because it’s slowing down, or because it’s breaking up?” They got up and crossed the square among crowds of people drifting away from the ceremony. “You must ask Wilander,” Jonathan Said. “Cunningly. It’s urgent.”
“Why me?” Vivian demanded.
This brought on the argument again and the argument went on all the way up the stairs of Perpetuum, where the stairs seemed to be shaking worse the higher they went. “You have to do it,” Jonathan said, as they turned into HERODOTIUM, “because he likes you.”
“What makes you think that?” said Vivian. The dark wood around them was creaking and shifting. “All he does is glare and growl and make fun of me!”
“He only makes fun of people he likes,” Jonathan said, and that won the argument. As they knocked at the door of SELDOM END, Vivian agreed to do the asking.
Her nerve failed as soon as they were inside. There among the warm smell of wood and books Dr. Wilander sat in his hairy coat, lighting his pipe and looking at them through the smoke with his small clever eyes, as if he had never moved since they saw him last. Only the shabby purple gown flung over a pile of record cubes showed that Dr. Wilander must have moved to take part in the ceremony.
“I’m doing the Mind Wars with you today,” he snarled through the cloud of smoke. “Start attending. It’s the most unpleasant episode there ever was in any Fixed Era. Its effects are felt all through the following Unstable Era and go on to give rise to the Icelandic Empire. Consult your chart, Vivian, and tell me the main facts about the Mind Wars.”
Vivian looked at her chart. She supposed she should start asking by saying innocently, Dr. Wilander, why is the ground shaking? But she could not seem to feel it in here. It was impossible to think of anything except that Dr. Wilander showed no signs of liking either of them. Hate and contempt seemed better words for the way he glared at her.
“Before she does,” Jonathan said, seeing that Vivian was in trouble, “she wants to ask you something.”
Beast! thought Vivian.
“Then she had better speak for herself,” Dr. Wilander growled. “Go ahead, Vivian. You can use deaf-and-dumb language if it’s more comfortable.”
Making fun of me, Vivian thought. Does that really mean he likes me? She gulped. “It’s—it’s about that paper you gave me to translate. Why does it tell you where to find three of the Caskets but not the Lead one?”
“I assume because the lesser Caskets are attracted to the Lead Casket and will find it for you,” Dr. Wilander grunted. “There is no point looking for the Mind Wars in the Stone Age. You will fi
nd them in Fifty-seven Century.”
“Yes, but suppose that went wrong and someone had to find the Lead Casket,” Vivian said. “Have you any idea where Faber John put it?”
“We’re not going to waste the afternoon playing Hunt-the-Slipper for legendary objects,” Dr. Wilander retorted. “But, while we’re at it, tell me the meaning of Faber John’s name.”
Vivian sighed. Each time they had tried to ask Dr. Wilander something, he had gone off on another tack. It did not seem worth trying any more. She was so annoyed that she quite forgot for the moment that she was supposed to be Vivian Lee. “Smith,” she said. “It means boring old John Smith.”
This produced quite a lecture from Dr. Wilander. “Boring?” he said. “Our founder’s name boring! It’s the most honourable name there is! In the days when names began, the name Smith had to be earned, and you earned it by being the most gifted man in the area. The first Smith was a genius who found out how to work metal. People came to him for science and for magic. He wasn’t just strong, if that’s what you mean. He made things. And he knew how to put virtue in those things so that they would do their proper job. He dared to find out about such matters and to use his knowledge. But if you simply mean that Smith is a common name, you are saying that there are remarkably many gifted people in the human race, and that is not boring either. And now consider the Mind Wars, please.”
And they did. Vivian thought they were sickening. She had not realised such cruel things could be done to people’s minds. Under attacks from various mind-weapons, all the nations she knew about disappeared for good, which upset her as much as the weapons. She had never been so glad to get away from the hot, wood-scented den in SELDOM END.
Jonathan, however, had clearly been thinking about something else the whole time. As they went down the quivering stairs, he said, “If he’s right about the other Caskets attracting the Lead one, then we’ve got to get the Silver in order to find it.”
Vivian said queasily, “But the Silver Age is just after the Mind Wars.”
“Yes, I know,” Jonathan said, dismissing this in his most lordly manner. “But we’re not going to get anywhere without it—unless Elio’s managed to find out more than we have, of course.”
14
THE AGE OF SILVER
Elio and Sam were waiting for them by the fountain in Time Close, where the water was all in criss-cross ripples from the shaking of the ground. Elio looked displeased. There was a frown on his smooth forehead, but it had nothing to do with the quaking of the earth.
“I have ransacked the records,” he said, “and there is no sign of the things Leon Hardy knew. I wish I had not been so hasty in banishing him to Italy. Furthermore, the being who watches the Gold Casket is a complete fool!”
“You mean you’ve been to the Age of Gold? Today?” Jonathan said.
“I wish we’d seen you first,” said Vivian. “The time-ghost that climbs the steps to the Gnomon is the Watcher of Gold.”
“That is another thing I did not know,” Elio said, frowning harder. “So he is bound to come here whatever I said.” He seemed so upset that Vivian daringly patted his arm. It was nothing at all like touching the Iron Guardian. Elio’s arm felt like an ordinary human arm.
“I think we’d better find the Silver Casket quickly,” Jonathan said anxiously.
“Yes,” Elio agreed. “We will go now.” They walked towards the Palace, past a time-ghost in ceremonial robes, who must have been a former Sempitern. “My visit to the Age of Gold was a great waste of energy,” Elio said. “There were wild persons in the trees, who made considerable efforts to kill me, and then an armed person on a horse, who seemed to feel it his business to kill all of us. And when I gave them the slip and made my way to Laununsun, the Watcher stood chewing a piece of grass and refused to respond to any of my arguments. I had to leave hastily anyway, for the person on the horse came back.” He sighed. As they went into the hall of the Palace, he said, “I hope we have better luck in the Age of Silver.” Nobody said anything. Vivian thought that if her own feelings were anything to go by, Jonathan and Sam must be hoping that something would stop them going there. “Master Jonathan,” said Elio, “you have not yet revealed whereabouts in the Third Unstable Era Master Hardy told you to look for the Silver Casket.”
Jonathan went lordly. “Oh, haven’t I?” he said carelessly.
They turned the corner into the gallery, where the strong light made it plain that Jonathan was rather red. “You rat!” Sam cried out. “You went without me again!”
“That was where you disappeared to this morning!” Vivian said.
“Master Jonathan, you took a grave risk,” Elio said reprovingly. “There is constant war in that era. Furthermore, you must have used the worn-out control, for I had the functional one with me all day.”
“Yes, but I put it back in the hat,” Jonathan said. “And there’s no need to glare at me, Sam. I didn’t find a thing. It was all salt desert with not a soul in sight. I thought I’d go to a hundred years before the thief got there, you see, to make quite sure. But there wasn’t a sign of any Guardian, even when I shouted, and no way of telling where the Casket was. It was a dead loss.”
“And did the egg work properly?” Vivian asked.
“No,” said Jonathan. “When I tried to get back, it landed me in the Golden Age, quite near Laununsun. And it was you I saw there, Elio. I thought it was, but you were running across the meadow so fast that I wasn’t sure.”
“But it did take you back in the end?” Vivian said.
“Obviously,” said Jonathan, “or I wouldn’t be here. But it took ages, and I only got back just before my parents left for the ceremony. I was quite scared.”
“Rightly,” said Elio. “This time we will use my control. And we will go to five minutes before the thief reaches the Casket, since it is clear that he had information which we have not and can lead us to the place. That is, Master Jonathan, if you will now be generous enough to tell us where to go.”
“It’s in the Baltic Sea,” Jonathan admitted. “Leon said Sixty–four Century was the best time, because the sea’s dry for a hundred years on both sides of then.” And he told them a map reference which meant nothing to Vivian.
Elio seemed to understand. He looked dubious. “I hope Master Hardy told you right,” he said. “That is certainly a war-zone in that century, however history runs, and, as I told you, I found that era very disturbed. However,” he added, looking more cheerful, “I shall be there to make sure you are safe, and I have taken care to provide us all with protective clothing. This way.”
He led the way towards the display-cases at the far end of the gallery. Vivian stopped in front of the one that held her own luggage. It looked dusty and foreign to her now, and not at all useful. “Elio,” she said. “If we do get the Silver Casket and Time City’s all right, I’m going to need this for when I go home.”
Elio stopped with his head twisted round, staring at the luggage with obvious regret. “I have never had anything from Twenty Century before,” he said. “But of course you must have it when you need it.” Vivian could tell that it cost him a real wrench to say it.
But it is mine! she thought as Elio went on to the case that had held the Martian boots. There were now four flat silver packets in it instead. The label said, Twenty-four Century Nylon Stockings (for men). Elio opened the case, took the packets out and turned the label over. That side read, Display Removed for Repairs. He handed them a packet each as he led the way to the chained door.
Vivian’s stomach wobbled, and seemed to wobble worse every step of the way down to the underground room. Her fingers shook when she opened her packet by Elio’s belt-light. Odd-shaped filmy silver cloth spilled out.
“These are mind-shield suits from Fifty-six Century,” Elio told them. “I procured them from then because Mind War suits have never been bettered. Put them on over your heads and faces and let the rest spill down to your feet.”
“Why does it have to go all ov
er?” asked Sam. “My mind’s in my head.”
“Ah, but there are nerves all over your body that lead to your head. A mind-warrior only has to find an unprotected nerve,” Elio explained. “These suits will stop that. They will also stop other weapons to some extent, provided you are not at close range.”
This made Vivian feel more wobbly than ever. It did not help to feel the ground still gently shaking, even down here. She pulled the strange cloth over her head. It was easy to breathe through, and it fell across her shoulders and down over the rest of her with the gentlest of touches. She spread her arms to look down at herself all covered in flowing silvery folds. We’re not going to be able to walk far, trailing around in this stuff! she thought. But after a pause, in which the cloth must have been adjusting to her, it suddenly shrank around her.
“Lift your feet, one after the other,” Elio said.
Vivian did so and the silvery stuff promptly shrank itself round the underside of each of her shoes. And she was wearing an all-over suit of filmy silver. The others were silver all over too. Sam’s face and Jonathan’s looked at her through the film, squashed and whitish.
“I can’t see too well,” Jonathan said. “It seems to be cancelling out my optical-function.”
“Then keep close to me,” said Elio. The belt-light coming from under his suit made him look like a luminous ghost. “You must all keep close to me. I shall do my utmost to ensure our safety and, as you are aware, my utmost is more than twice that of a born human.” He raised his hand with the red egg-shaped control in it, filmy under the suit, and pointed it at the flickering slate.
The slate vanished into a door opening on dazzling brightness. White, white sand stretched away to a distant pale blue sky. They stepped through it and their suited feet crunched and slipped on what felt like frost. Probably it’s salt from the dried-up sea, Vivian thought. But the place felt cold too. Her suit did not do much to stop a keen icy wind. She turned her head away from the wind and the white glare and realised that the white land was not a level desert at all. Blue shadows showed that it was a mass of hummocks and holes. Some of them were regular-looking ditches that reminded Vivian of the trenches in World War One.
A Tale of Time City Page 22
