[Time Hunters 01.0] The Time Hunters

by carl ashmore

  Its creator was waiting.

  As the bird approached a clearing at the peak of a white mountain, a tall, slender man in a dark cloak met it, a thick hood masking his face. He held a device showing, in total clarity, everything in the bird’s eye-line. He turned a toggle and the bird collapsed soullessly at his feet. He picked it up and placed it into a satchel. Then he turned to a limousine parked ten foot away - a limousine that once belonged to the Russian dictator, Joseph Stalin … a man who arrested, imprisoned and executed millions of his own citizens.

  The traveller rubbed his hands with anticipation. He had a short but crucial journey in time to make. It was a trip that, regardless of the outcome, would bring him a great deal of amusement.

  - Chapter 16 -

  Argonauts

  Even with the air conditioning at full blast, the campervan felt like an oven. Becky watched Phineus who was lying spread-eagled on the floor, his ear tightly pressed against the metal panelling. ‘Phineus, what are you doing?’

  ‘Listening,’ Phineus replied, a faraway smile on his lips.

  ‘To what?’

  ‘To the horses.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The little horses. They are most wondrous.’

  Uncle Percy gave an unusually loud cough. ‘Phineus, if you could return to your seat, please.’

  ‘What horses?’ Becky probed.

  ‘The Devonshire Bunny Horses,’ he said. ‘I can hear them.’

  ‘Your seat, Phineus …’ Uncle Percy said awkwardly.

  ‘What’re you going on about?’ Becky continued.

  ‘Beautiful scenery, isn’t it?’ Uncle Percy said at the top of his voice, before bursting into a peculiarly enthusiastic bout of whistling.

  Reluctantly Phineus returned to his seat, his eyes exploring every inch of the campervan as though a new discovery waited in every corner. Joe stared at Phineus, with the same bemused expression as his sister. This was an Argonaut?

  ‘This is the most uncommon chariot I have ever seen,’ Phineus said. ‘This Brit-ain from which you hail must be a wonderful place.’

  Joe looked at the campervan with indifference. ‘S’pose. We’ve got loads better stuff than this, though.’

  ‘Better?’ Phineus asked. ‘But what could be better?’

  Joe pondered for a moment. ‘Err, Manchester City.’

  ‘And what is Man-chest-er City?’

  ‘It’s a football team,’ Joe said. ‘The best team in the world.’

  ‘What is football?’

  ‘It’s a game. Eleven men versus eleven men - one ball.’

  ‘What is ball?’

  ‘It’s a round object, full of air.’ Joe spread out his hands as if holding an invisible ball. ‘You kick it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘So you can score.’

  ‘What is score?’

  ‘When you kick the ball in the net.’

  ‘What is net?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Joe scowled, his tone suggesting he hoped the other Argonauts were a significant improvement on this one.

  Becky smiled, turned to the window and caught sight of the Aegean Sea. The crystal-blue water extended to the horizon, bordered by a blanket of rambling white sand. And, as the valley merged into the shore, she noticed a boat anchored fifty feet from the beach.

  Phineus bolted upright. ‘The Argo.’

  An air of anticipation swept through the van. They all strained to get a better look at the celebrated ship. The closer they came, however, the more Becky sensed disappointment and with good reason. The Argo was, without doubt, the smallest, shabbiest looking vessel imaginable. A crooked wooden mast rose from the deck with a dirty green sail that hung limp like a soggy piece of lettuce.

  ‘Is that it?’ Joe said, loudly. ‘It’s tiny.’

  ‘Tis big enough,’ Phineus said defiantly.

  ‘For fifty men?’ Joe blustered.

  ‘Fifty?’ Phineus snorted, offended by Joe’s tone. ‘But only four undertook the journey.’

  Joe slumped miserably in his seat. ‘Four? But I thought there were fifty - ’

  Uncle Percy interrupted, ‘Phineus, about the Argo, is it sinking?’

  ‘No.’ Phineus tried to sound positive. ‘Jason said -’

  ‘What-a-flippin’-shock,’ Joe growled, folding his arms.

  Becky could see Uncle Percy was right. The Argo was sinking and sinking fast. The prow tilted down, half submerged in water and she could make out two small figures scurrying around the deck, emptying buckets over the side.

  Uncle Percy steered Bertha into a small cave and urged them to exit as quickly as possible.

  ‘Can we not ride the chariot on to the beach?’ Phineus asked. ‘I am certain my comrades would be keen to see it.’

  Deeming the fewer people who saw Bertha the better, Uncle Percy leant toward Phineus, careful of being overheard. ‘I don’t like to talk about it in front of Becky and Joe, it upsets them, but the horses hate sand. In fact, they’re allergic to it. They develop green boils all over their little bodies if they come into contact with it.’

  Phineus nodded with concern. ‘That sounds most worrisome.’

  ‘Oh, it is,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Anyway, they’ll be fine as long as we keep them away from the beach.’

  ‘Wise, indeed,’ Phineus said gravely.

  Then Joe appeared. ‘Are we going then?’

  ‘Of course, Joe,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Come, Phineus, you must introduce us to your friends.’

  Phineus took a lingering look at the time machine and sighed. Then he sprinted out of the cave.

  ‘Off his box,’ Joe mumbled to Becky, as Phineus disappeared over a dune.

  As they trudged across the sand, Becky saw a large man sitting on a boulder, his brown eyes swirling round in their sockets, streams of slobber trickling down his stubbly chin.

  ‘Hail, Theseus,’ Phineus said. ‘Has your condition improved?’

  Becky’s ears pricked up. Theseus - the slayer of the Minotaur. Her stomach sank. This man was a slobbering wreck.

  Theseus raised his head. ‘H-hail Phlinumbleness.’

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Joe blurted.

  ‘His head was struck when we hit the clashing rocks,’ Phineus replied. ‘Jason believes he shall recover in a day or two.’

  Becky stared doubtfully at Theseus, who had tilted back on the boulder, his legs dangling, when his eyes rolled white and he collapsed with a heavy thud.

  Will ran over and hoisted him back onto the rock.

  ‘Ooops. My head hurts,’ Theseus gurgled.

  ‘Here, let me take a look.’ Uncle Percy lifted Theseus’ straggly black hair to reveal a bluish lump the size of a conker. Becky winced.

  Fortunately, Uncle Percy knew exactly what to do. After a few minutes of gentle probing, he finally spoke, ‘There’s nothing broken, just severe concussion.’

  ‘Are you my mother?’ Theseus said in a swirling drawl.

  ‘Err, ‘fraid not,’ Uncle Percy said, turning to a mortified Phineus. ‘We need to get him out of the sun.’ Struggling, they hauled Theseus to the shade and Uncle Percy spent the next ten minutes treating him with implements from the campervan’s medi-box. As soon as the swelling had reduced they left him to rest and returned to the beach.

  Becky, Uncle Percy, his hood shielding his face from the sun, Will, Joe and Phineus gathered at the shore. The stern rose higher and higher into the air as the Argo tilted at a steep angle.

  ‘Jason … Jason… I have returned!’ Phineus yelled.

  A small head popped over the side of the boat. Soaked in sweat, Jason stared at the smiling group of strangers. For a brief moment, his bearded face displayed shock, but this quickly disappeared. ‘Phineus?’ Jason shouted back, intrigued. ‘Who accompanies you?’

  ‘These are my friends. They saved my life,’ Phineus replied. ‘Master, I have so much to tell you. I was attacked!’

  Jason whispered something to his fellow Argonaut and they no
dded in agreement. Conceding their cause was lost, they pitched the buckets into the sea, jumped overboard and approached the shore. Phineus dashed through the lapping waves to his mentor.

  ‘Attacked, you say?’ Jason said. ‘Then it pleases me you are safe.’

  As Jason stood upright, Becky noticed something quite unexpected. Phineus towered above him.

  ‘Jason’s an elf!’ Joe whispered in Becky’s ear.

  ‘Shhh,’ Becky replied. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but agree. Jason, the famous leader of the Argonauts, was indeed a very, very tiny man.

  The second Argonaut approached Phineus. He was very tall, reedy, and his round balding head made him look like a spoon.

  ‘Hercules,’ Phineus said. ‘It pleases me to see you.’

  ‘Hail, Phineus,’ Hercules replied. ‘You say you were attacked by demons? They’re not still around are they?’ He looked nervously at the distant valley.

  ‘No. My friends slew them.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ Hercules replied with relief.

  Joe struggled to maintain a respectful silence. ‘That’s Hercules?’

  For once, however, Becky could quite understand her brother’s incredulity. Of all the legendary Argonauts, Hercules had to be the most famous. But this Hercules, however, could not have looked more different from the Hercules of legend.

  ‘Is the Argo doomed, sire?’ Phineus asked Jason.

  ‘That slab of rotting timber,’ Jason muttered angrily, ‘tis not fit for firewood. You wait ‘til I get my hands on that dung beetle Argus…master shipbuilder, my stumpy rump!’ He scooped up a floating bucket and hurled it at the ship.

  ‘But what of our quest?’ Phineus asked anxiously. ‘The Fleece of Gold?’

  Becky’s heart slammed in her chest. She heard Joe gasp loudly. The Argonauts were searching for the Golden Fleece.

  ‘Fear not,’ Jason said, reaching up on tiptoes and patting Phineus firmly on his shoulder. ‘Something will arise. Anyway, who are your companions?’

  ‘They are my new friends,’ Phineus said, trailing Jason out of the water. ‘They are strangers here, too. They hail from a far-away land called Brit - ain.’ At these words Jason’s expression changed. Oblivious, Phineus continued, ‘I was gathering olives when I was attacked by sky demons. These fair people rescued me, and - ’

  But Jason had stopped listening.

  Becky knew something was wrong. She stared at Jason, but it was clear he was focused on one thing, one person: Uncle Percy.

  Uncle Percy had noticed it too. Slowly, he removed his hood.

  Jason gasped loudly and fell to his knees. ‘It’s you … It’s you… Hercules, Phineus, to your knees at once!’

  Bewildered, Hercules and Phineus dropped to the sand. Becky watched in amazement as the three Argonauts groveled before them.

  For a brief moment, even Uncle Percy was at a loss for words. ‘May I ask what you’re doing?’

  ‘The gods foretold of your coming, sire,’ Jason said, his eyes never leaving the sand. ‘But I didn’t believe it. Please, forgive me.’

  ‘There is nothing to forgive,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Please, stand.’

  Jason ignored him. ‘We are your humble servants, my master.’

  Becky glanced at Joe, then Will. She had a sudden urge to laugh, but resisted it. Something very strange was going on.

  ‘It was foretold?’ Uncle Percy asked curiously.

  ‘Yes. The stranger told me. The messenger of the gods. He came to me as I slept. He said I would meet you - the silver haired one, the traveller from Brit - ain, that you - you are his trusted envoy - the rightful owner of Nephele’s Fleece. He said we must beg to be your servants.’

  A curious look crossed Uncle Percy’s face. ‘Then it is my wish that you stand.’ Leaning over, he guided Jason to his feet. ‘Let us move to the shade, you must tell me everything...’

  Becky wondered whether to laugh or not. Then she glimpsed her uncle’s expression and a sense of dread enveloped her. Any thoughts of how amusing the situation was instantly vanished, because, for the first time since she’d met him, she saw utter confusion and perhaps even fear in his eyes.

  - Chapter 17 -

  The Messenger’s Message

  A puzzled silence engulfed them. The Argonauts gathered their possessions and moved to the sheltered cluster of trees where Theseus lay, snoring like a bagpipe.

  All the while Becky couldn’t take her eyes off a troubled Uncle Percy. She knew he was contemplating the identity of the messenger. It had to be a time traveller. But who? Friend or foe? And why visit Jason? And then the real complexity of time travel struck her. The messenger could even be Uncle Percy - an Uncle Percy from the future travelling back in time for some, as yet, unknown reason. What a bizarre thought!

  By late afternoon, the smell of cinnamon filtered on the heavy air. Becky and Joe were sitting on the gnarled grey trunk of a fallen tree; Phineus and Hercules sat opposite, cross-legged, on the sandy ground. It was obvious from their puzzled looks this was the first time they had heard about Jason’s messenger.

  Uncle Percy removed his cloak and gave Jason a kindly smile. ‘Please, Jason, I need you to tell me everything about this messenger. Every detail. Leave nothing out.’

  Jason surveyed at his captive audience. ‘Seven days ago, the first night of the full moon, I was asleep in my hut on Iolcus having an agreeable dream about very tall women, when I woke to find the earth growling and a noise like the snap of an ox-skin whip met my ears.’

  Becky glanced at Joe, who gave a nod of silent recognition. Jason was describing an operational time machine.

  Jason continued. ‘The door opened, and a man stood before me. A tall man, like yourself.’

  ‘What did he look like?’

  Jason deliberated for a moment. ‘I could not see. His features remained in shadow. He wore a cloak, much like yours, his face hidden.’

  Uncle Percy hesitated. ‘Now, I want you to take your time answering this. You said the messenger wore a cloak like mine, that he was a tall man like me. Could it have been me? Was I the messenger?’

  Jason’s head jerked up sharply. ‘Is this a test, sire?’ he said, sounding confused. ‘Are the Gods testing me?’

  ‘Yes,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘It’s a test. Now, think back. Was it me?’

  Jason paused again. ‘It may have been you, master. It was too dark to be certain.’

  ‘Very well,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Did he sound like me? Was the accent the same as mine?’

  ‘A week of sleep has blurred the event, sire. But his accent was unfamiliar to me - it may have been your voice. Was it you who visited me that night, master? Have I passed the test?’

  ‘You’re doing well.’ Uncle Percy smiled sympathetically. ‘Now, please, tell me what was said.’

  ‘He said I was to embark on a great journey. A mission decreed by the Gods. I was to gather a mighty crew and go in search of the Fleece of Gold, the divine prize presented to Queen Nephele by the God, Hermes. He told me to first land upon Crete where he would send his herald, a silver-haired man from a distant land called Brit - ain. He said that I must assist the herald in finding The Golden Fleece.’ Jason stopped, dreading his next words. ‘And the messenger ordered I bestow upon you a message. He said you must leave Crete before two moons passed. That should you remain, your lives would be taken, and the Fleece of Gold lost forever. Then he left.’

  A tense silence hung in the air.

  Only Uncle Percy, who looked somewhat relieved, had something to say. ‘Thank you, Jason. That was most helpful. Now, shall I make everyone a nice pot of tea?’ He walked off in the direction of the cave, leaving the three Argonauts baffled as to what a pot of tea was.

  Becky watched Uncle Percy leave, countless questions filling her mind. Was the messenger Uncle Percy or someone else? Were they really in danger on Crete? If so, why? Then her thoughts were interrupted by an deafening creaking sound. Staring out, she watched as the Argo disappeared from view, swallowed by th
e hungry sea.

  - Chapter 18 -

  In the Shadows of the Past

  After deciding they would camp there for the night, Uncle Percy spent rest of the afternoon finding reasons to isolate himself from the group. He would go for lengthy walks along the gorge admiring the griffon vultures and picking wild orchids. He would paddle in the shallow sea, gathering shells and placing them in a small leather pouch, claiming to be a keen conchologist.

  Becky knew this was all a front. He needed time to consider Jason’s story and think about their next step. As she watched him pluck the umpteenth shell from the damp sand, she felt a powerful sense of helplessness.

  Joe, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to her concerns and decided to lighten the mood by teaching the Argonauts to play cricket. He found a stained cork ball in the campervan (which judging by the deep grooves in its surface belonged to Milly) and whittled some stumps out of olive branches, whilst Will carved a makeshift bat.

  Joe soon came to the conclusion the Argonauts were the worst cricketers he had ever seen. Phineus stood more chance of catching the ball with his ears than his hands. Hercules was even worse, and Jason launched himself with such gusto at his first delivery that the bat flew out of his hands and crashed into Hercules’ forehead, knocking him out cold.

  By the time Uncle Percy had returned daylight had bowed to a comfortable dusk. The solitude seemed to have rejuvenated him and he joked with Becky as they lit a fire and watched as fine wisps of smoke slithered into the sky.

  Dinner was a jovial affair, and Becky found herself enjoying the company of the Argonauts immensely. She watched as Theseus, his condition much improved, Phineus and Hercules, (Jason remained oddly quiet) took centre-stage and entertained them with folk songs and fantastical tales of the Gods. Before long the sun had set and a full moon cast a silver flush over the camp.

  An hour later, Becky lay under a blanket, taking in the glittering stars above. Despite the day’s revelations, she felt remarkably at peace. Listening to the crackling embers of the fire, her eyes searched out Uncle Percy. She found him sitting on a rock, staring blankly out to sea. She walked over, her bare feet welcoming the coolness of the sand.