Realms of Time (Scrapyard Ship)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Chapter 21

  They trekked forward over several foothills and now looked down into a wide, expansive valley. What they saw seemed impossible. Like colorfully blurred curtains that reached into the sky, large areas seemed to be sectioned off, coming in and out of focus.

  “There’s 1957, Cap. Looks like part of a highway. That section to the far left must be from the future: there are some kind of weaponized droids moving about,” Rizzo remarked, pointing, continuing his historical observations like a teacher on a field trip to the city’s museum of natural history. “And there, all those tepees: that’s a continuation of June 24, 1876.”

  “What’s that fourth realm?” Jason asked, using his HUD’s zoom to look at the furthest away time realm.

  The others, using their zoom functions as well, didn’t reply. Orion, standing at the back of the group next to the rhino-warriors, said, “No frigging way …”

  Bristol shuffled up to Dira’s other side, on Jason’s left. Finally looking up from his electronics, he said, “Um, maybe there’s a way around that.”

  Jason continued to stare at the easily twenty-foot-tall beast. Unmistakably, it was a T-Rex. And there was another half-devoured dinosaur hanging from its massive jaws.

  “It’s eating a Stegosaurus,” Rizzo chimed in. “See the large plates along its anterior spine?”

  Everyone turned toward Bristol. Behind his visor, a sheen of perspiration was forming on his forehead. His fingers moved quickly over a small input device. After several expletives, some in a language Jason didn’t know, Bristol glanced up, looking utterly defeated. “It’s fucking right in the middle of that time realm. Wouldn’t you know it? Right smack in the middle.”

  Billy had his visor up and was smoking a cigar. “No sense whining about it, Bristol. Hell, I’m sure it’s no worse than fighting off a pack of Serapins. Right, Cap?” he asked Jason with a rueful grin.

  Jason ignored the question and continued to look over the valley. “So, we need to make our way between cars on a 1957 highway; enter back into 1876 and go past Sitting Bull’s campsite; then enter into some kind of futuristic land of droids; and, finally, go back in time sixty million-plus years to the Jurassic period.”

  Both Bristol and Rizzo nodded their heads in unison, neither taking his eyes off the scenes before them.

  Bristol said, “From what I can tell so far the realms are staying fairly isolated from each other. But that won’t last long.”

  “Let’s head out,” Jason said, taking the lead and walking down the rocky hillside. As he approached the bottom of the hill, he stopped and waited for the others to catch up. The rhinos were huffing; repeated bursts of steamy wet snot filled the air around them. Jason couldn’t blame them. He felt trepidation himself. The first of the wavering aurora borealis-type curtains appeared a mere ten feet in front of them. Although somewhat obscured, every so often another automobile sped by. Jason stepped through the curtain and stood alongside a two-lane highway. Compared to modern highway traffic in the twenty-first century, this road was practically deserted. In the distance, a 1949 Buick approached. What looked like two full-grown elk were roped down onto its hood. Hunting season. As the rest of the team also stepped into the 1950s, the approaching Buick swerved and almost flipped. Obviously, seeing the battle suited assault team, not to mention two seven-foot-tall rhino-warriors, made an impression on the driver Jason was sure he’d never forget. As the car moved past, Jason saw inside a group of four young men, some maybe in their teens. Open-mouthed, their heads turned, looking back as they sped by.

  Another car, an old forty-nine pickup, similar to the one that Jason’s father was fixing up, meandered by. Oblivious to distractions, and obviously not aware of the fluctuating nearby time realms, the elderly driver never took his eyes off the road ahead. The team scurried across the road. They came upon a small parking lot and what looked like a diner. A well-worn, hand-painted sign reading Grizzly Mo’s hung above the entrance. Apparently, this was a main attraction and the first stop into a small quaint town.

  “Let’s stay out of sight as much as possible,” Jason said, continuing onto a smaller dirt road that ran parallel to the highway. Ten minutes later, cars approached them from two directions—both police cars. Jason noticed they were both 1957 Plymouth Belvederes. There was a similar ‘56 auto in his scrapyard back home.

  “Don’t shoot them,” Jason said sternly. “I’m sure by now we have the locals a bit freaked out.”

  The shiny black squad car, a bright gold star on its door, skidded sideways to a stop. Its trailing cloud of dust hovered in the air, then slowly dissipated. The driver’s side door flew open and a uniformed officer jumped out, pistol pointed in their direction. The cop was impeccably dressed; his creased uniform included a narrow black tie and a hat with a shiny shield emblem. Holding his weapon out in front of him with two hands, he yelled a commanding, “Halt!”

  The second squad car arrived and another policeman, equally crisp and smart looking, jumped out and pointed his gun.

  “Cap, I might be able to handle this,” Rizzo said.

  Jason turned to the young SEAL. “Are you sure? I want to avoid any trouble here.”

  “Let me try, sir. I have an idea.”

  Rizzo took a tentative step forward then stopped and looked back. “Dira, come with us.”

  Together, Jason, Rizzo and Dira slowly approached the nervous-looking cops. Rizzo held his hands up in a defenseless gesture, after first raising his visor, and smiled.

  “Officers, my name is Timothy Sturges. I know this may look strange to you. Let me assure you, your town is not being infiltrated by aliens. Perhaps you’ve heard of my father, John Sturges? He directed Gunfight at the O.K. Corral.”

  One of the officers raised his head and looked appraisingly at Rizzo and the others in the group. “What, you’re telling me this is some kind of movie thing?” he asked, not sounding at all convinced.

  “That’s exactly what this is. Your town’s been selected to be the backdrop for the next big science-fiction blockbuster, Asteroid Aliens. Two months from now Kirk Douglas and Burt Lancaster will be wearing spacesuits, like these, instead of cowboy hats and six-shooters.”

  “So, um, these are what? Costumes?” the cop asked, lowering his gun several inches.

  “In the movie business we call this a costumed walk-through. We’re getting a feel for how these costumes will hold up on location. And, of course, our makeup, too. That’s extremely important. You wouldn’t want to see violet skin-toned paint dripping off a starlet’s face, would you?” Rizzo asked. “Show him your makeup, Tammy.”

  Tentatively, Dira raised her visor and looked back at the officer. He holstered his weapon and took several steps forward. Hands on hips he appraised Dira’s face. She gave him one of her most-dazzling smiles and he smiled back. Her eyes flickered down to his name badge. “Hi, Deputy Sheriff Thom Duke. I’m Tammy Applegate.”

  “Impressive. Why, I’d believe she was an alien, all right. And a mighty pretty one at that!”

  He gestured for the other police officer to put away his weapon and pointed to colorful curtain-like anomaly in the sky. “You have something to do with that, as well? Darndest thing we’ve ever seen around these parts.”

  “Nope. Nothing to do with that,” Rizzo replied.

  About to approach the rhinos, Rizzo held up a hand. “Please, I can’t tell you how much trouble I’d be in if word got out about us being here in the middle of the day. The other studios are dying to get a glimpse of our special effects. If it’s all right with you, we’re going to head on back to our trailers and get out of this garb. My production supervisor will be in touch with your superiors shortly. But again, please, would it be possible to keep a lid on what you’ve seen today?”

  With an expression somewhere between excitement and doubt, the officer eventually smiled. “This is going to be something, isn’t it? I tell you, nothing like this has happened around these parts. Not since the Barnum & Bailey Circus rolled int
o town. Zowie! That was something; that sure was. Yeah, we’ll keep this to ourselves. But when you come back to town, you look me up. You’re going to need police support. I’ll be your man.”

  “Deal,” Rizzo said, extending his arm and shaking the officer’s hand.

  Both police officers returned to their cars. At the same time they did three-point turns and headed back in the directions they’d come.

  Jason raised his visor and looked at Rizzo and Dira. “Alien Asteroids?”

  Rizzo smiled. “Maybe I should have gone into acting, huh, Cap?”

  Jason brought his attention to Dira. “Well, I know our own Tammy Applegate certainly has a new fan.”

  Jason continued to look down the highway and watched as one of the police cruisers disappeared into the distant horizon. Quiet now, but how long before the time realms start converging and ripping this quiet little town apart?

  Chapter 22

  Before leaving the realm of the 1950s, more and more cars turned down the dirt road. The cop’s promise to keep things on the quiet side had been wishful thinking, but Jason couldn’t really blame him. Hell, wasn’t this even bigger than when the Barnum & Bailey Circus rolled into town? Hoots and hollers came from up ahead as an old woodie station wagon—packed tight with kids in the back—pulled up close.

  An attractive woman behind the wheel, most likely one of the kids’ mom, leaned out the window. “Is it true? You’re making a movie? Here in town?”

  No less than six small giggling faces appeared at the back window. Eyes wide, they watched the rhino-warriors as they huffed and puffed in their direction.

  Jason raised his visor and stepped in close to her. “Well, that depends.”

  “On what?” one of the kids asked from the back seat.

  “If we can keep this a secret.” He held a finger up to his lips and smiled. The woman laughed and nodded. She stepped on the gas and they continued on down the road.

  They left the little town and walked into the high desert terrain and endless clusters of dry chaparral. For close to an hour they walked before approaching the next time realm, indicated by another colorful curtain-like anomaly. Startled, Jason stopped in his tracks as two galloping Appaloosas appeared before him. Barreling down, less than ten yards away, the two horses split up, veering around Jason and his team. Riding bareback were two red-skinned Native American warriors. Bare-chested and faces painted with white markings, they held bows in their outstretched arms, with arrows knocked and ready to fly.

  The SEALs moved into a defensive formation with uncanny speed. Again and again, Jason had seen it, been a part of it. Whether facing an army of German soldiers, or two Indian warriors, SEALs were trained to the point where taking immediate action was almost instinctual—and more often than not, with lethal results. Jason pulled Dira down to the ground and, like the other SEALs, tracked the riders with his multi-gun. The warriors, both muscular and young, their long black hair flying in the wind behind them, shared the same bewildered, more like astonished, expression … men in space suits ... rhino-warriors. Jason, preparing to relax, knowing bows and arrows would be ineffective against their battle suits, was suddenly surprised again.

  Buffalo!

  They poured through the wispy curtain in a thunderous blur. Jason watched as the men around him were bowled over like matchsticks. Then Dira, standing next to him, took a direct hit and was gone in an instant. When Jason saw the approaching herd before him, there was no time to move aside or take defensive action. Massive horns plowed into his chest area, propelling him up into the air, only for the same buffalo to hit him again as he landed ten yards away. After that it was just a matter of how long the trampling would continue. After several minutes, Jason realized he was going to live. He certainly felt uncomfortable, jarred for sure. But thanks to his battle suit, he’d be fine. Fewer and fewer buffalo legs were running past them, and Jason’s thoughts went to the two rhinos. They didn’t wear battle suits.

  The buffalo were gone and only heavy dust and the distant sound of their running hooves remained. Slowly, Jason lifted himself off the ground. Getting to his feet, he wiped dust from his visor. Thankfully, it had closed automatically as the first buffalo approached him. Others were getting to their feet. Where was Dira?

  “Everybody report,” Jason said into his comms.

  One by one, the SEALs checked in, but Jason stopped listening. He’d spotted Dira: her battle suit, smaller than the others, was unmistakable, and it wasn't moving. Rushing to her side, Jason fell to his knees and brought his head down to hers. Caked with mud and dust, she was almost indiscernible from the trodden dirt road around her. Carefully, he raised her visor.

  Her eyes opened. “What … the hell … was that?”

  Concerned, Jason stared back at her—then couldn’t stop himself from laughing out loud, perhaps from sheer relief that she was alive. He started to laugh so hard he had a hard time catching his breath, and eventually he had to roll over on his back until the laughing subsided. He heard the others over his comms laughing as well.

  Dira wearily sat up and looked around. Jason, remembering the rhinos, sat up and looked behind him. The two rhinos were standing, huddled together. Their voices were raised—they were speaking fast and obviously excited. Something about their behavior reminded Jason of teenagers. Yeah, excited teens after winning a football game. Four buffalo carcasses lay still around them. The rhinos, in the fray, had come out on top.

  Billy stiffly came over to Jason and Dira. As he lit up a fresh cigar, Jason wondered if he had an endless supply of the stinky things.

  “The funny thing is, Cap, we haven’t completely made it out of a sleepy little town in the 1950s. Afraid to imagine what’s coming next.”

  Jason nodded agreement at Billy and slowly got to his feet. “Come on, Dira, we should probably look for Bristol.” He held a hand out for her to grab. She took it and groaned as she got to her feet.

  Chapter 23

  Ricket stood beside the MediPod as the clamshell separated. Gaddy’s eyes fluttered open and she turned her head toward Ricket.

  “How do you feel?” he asked in the Craing native language of Terplin.

  She thought about it for a bit, then said, “I’ve never felt better. Wow, I feel really good.”

  She sat up and looked around. “I don’t remember coming in here. Is this a hospital?”

  “Yes, it’s our Medical department.” Ricket held a hand out to her and she used it for balance as she crawled out of the MediPod.

  “Are you hungry? Or would you like to sleep some more? There’s a cabin ready for you.”

  “No, no more sleep, but I’d like to wash up. After two weeks in HAB 12 I feel totally disgusting.”

  “This way. I’ll show you to your cabin.”

  Gaddy followed after Ricket. She still was amazed by his apparent physical transformation, from cyborg to an organic Craing being. He seemed a little stiff acting, but she guessed that should be expected. Plus, how old was he? Something like two hundred years. Ancient! But then again, he looked pretty good. Really good, actually. At twenty-two, Gaddy was used to getting attention from Craing men. She wondered if Ricket was attracted to her. Why am I thinking about this? She continued to watch him as they approached a cabin hatchway. He slowed, standing back, his hand gesturing for her to go ahead and enter first. Passing him, she smiled. I don’t think he looks that much older than me.

  After a quick tour of her cabin and how to work the shower and toilet, he showed her how to contact him, so they could later head down to the mess.

  “I’ll wait for you to contact me. Enjoy your shower.” Ricket excused himself and left the cabin.

  Enjoy your shower? Who talks like that? Gaddy smiled to herself and got undressed.

  * * *

  Feeling a thousand times better and dressed in a crisp white spacer’s jumpsuit, Gaddy sat across from Ricket in the large mess hall. Starving, she’d piled her tray with as much food as it would hold. Ricket had confided he’d c
alled ahead—spoken to the man behind the counter beforehand, someone named Plimpton. To her gleeful surprise, an assortment of popular Craing entrées had been prepared and were waiting for her to select from.

  Without hesitation she dove into her meal. Too hungry to be self-conscious, she ate until she felt her stomach would burst. Dropping her fork to her plate and holding her belly, she looked across the table at Ricket.

  “I’m sorry. That must have been unpleasant to watch. Disgusting, huh?”

  Ricket smiled and shook his head. “No, not so bad.” Smiling again he added, “Gaddy, the admiral would like to speak with you. He wanted you to get some food and rest—”

  She stopped him: “Yes! Please.”

  Gaddy realized she’d lost all grip on reality. The whole purpose of rushing across HAB 12 … Oh God, her friends had died to help her. Tears suddenly filled her eyes. “I’m sorry, I must seem like a childish twit. Believe me, there is nothing more important than bringing help back to the Craing worlds.”

  Ricket bussed Gaddy’s tray over to a dispenser and they headed out of the mess hall. Walking at his side, Gaddy assessed him in her peripheral vision. She had many unasked questions: What does he remember, if anything, of his life as a former Craing emperor? What were his days like before that time? Wasn’t he an inventor or a famous scientist? Where do his loyalties lie now—here with the Alliance or with the Craing?

  They emerged through a DeckPort on Level Two and proceeded in silence. They turned left down an intersecting corridor and bumped headlong into Brian and the hopper.

  Gaddy reacted out of instinct. She pulled Brian’s sidearm from his holster and leveled the plasma weapon at the hopper’s head. Eyes wide, her heart pounding, she tensed her trigger finger.

  “Don’t shoot!” Brian yelled, holding out his hands.

  “What is that thing? What is it doing here?” she demanded.