by Dana Fredsti
“Just a minute,” Amber said. “How did you know the professor’s name, or Alex’s?” She hesitated for a moment, and then added, “For that matter, who the hell are you?” He turned slowly and gave her an indecipherable look, made all the more imposing by his dark violet eyes. She blushed.
“I mean, we all should thank you,” she said, “but we don’t even know you.”
“Ah, but I know who you are, Amber from the twenty-first Century,” he said matter-of-factly. “All of you. Even though I had been, to all extents and purposes, in a deep coma, my brain restored a low level of cognitive operation. I heard everything that happened back in the bell tower— or rather, my auditory system recorded it. I just wasn’t able to access it until after I regained consciousness.”
Simon stared ahead, suddenly very quiet. Amber suspected he might be recalling all the things he had been saying while he thought Merlin was dead.
“Well, that… explains that, I suppose,” she said uncertainly, “but—”
“Well, my name is Dr. Jonathan Meta,” he said, cutting her off. “Though you all can keep calling me Merlin if you like. I have to admit, I rather like it.”
“Are you a medical doctor then?” Alex asked.
“No, an astrophysicist,” he said. “The director of the Advanced Transpatial Physics Lab’s Omnia Astra Project.”
“Astrophysicist?” Amber said, suddenly excited. “Like Neil deGrasse Tyson?” She loved astronomy. Then she became serious again. “So do you have any idea what’s going on? I mean, what’s causing all this, this… insanity?”
“You mean the Event?” Dr. Meta—Merlin—pulled the wagon to a halt and turned back. The thoughtful look in his strange violet eyes was made even more surreal by the cascade of infinitesimal stars playing across their surface. “Well, yes. I know what it is.” He paused, then added, “And if I’m right, we can put the world back the way it was. It will be just as if it never happened.”
33
The others looked at Merlin in shocked silence while the enormity of his words sank in. Then they began peppering him with questions, words overlapping to form an incomprehensible wall of sound. Only Cam was silent, distracted by something behind them.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Merlin raised a hand. “I’ll explain everything as soon as I can, but for now the first order of business is to get to safety, yes?”
Before anyone could answer, Cam urgently pulled on Amber’s arm. She turned, then gasped.
“We’ve got a problem,” she said.
Merlin frowned. “Now what?”
Cam pointed. The wheels had left a deep, unmistakable trail behind them. Simon raised an eyebrow.
“So how are your gadgets at erasing wagon wheel tracks?”
“Damn it. I should have thought of that.” Merlin shook his head grimly. “It may not be long before our pursuers will retrace their path and pick up our trail. There’s nothing for it. We’ll have to lose the wagon.” He scanned the horizon. Slightly off their current course to the southeast, a forest of linden and hornbeam trees beckoned, erupting suddenly out of the surrounding heath. “We’ll head for those woods up ahead. We can lose them in there. Quickly now!”
Gathering up what little they had, they disembarked from the wagon, then Merlin turned it around to the west and slapped the horses, sending them galloping away.
“Step carefully,” Alex cautioned them. “If we’re lucky, they won’t catch sight of our footprints, and will just keep following the wagon.”
“Until they catch it up and realize they’ve been had,” Simon muttered.
Alex shot him a look. “Aren’t you the optimist?”
“Hopefully, they’ll be chasing the rovers a little longer before they even notice the problem, and then they’ll have to backtrack to where they first lost us,” Merlin said. “We really need to be out of sight before then, though.”
The thought spurred them all forward.
* * *
After half an hour or so of swift hiking, the group reached the safety of the forest, dark and shadowy in the late day. Still Merlin urged them on, and another thirty minutes later, they found a small clearing, and he indicated that they could rest for a bit. After hours of being on the run, Amber’s exhaustion caught up with her, and she dragged with every step she took. The others didn’t seem to be doing much better.
They collapsed on the ground or rested against tree trunks. Cam stretched out full length on his back, looking up at little auburn squirrels that chattered away at their intrusion. Overhead, thrushes and larks went from tree to tree in search of a meal. The shadows were long.
“How far away is your ship?” Nellie asked Merlin.
“Once we get out of this forest, I’d guess another hour or two.”
“It’ll be nightfall before that,” Alex said, looking up through the trees. “I don’t fancy our chances, stumbling around here in the dark.”
“Do you think we’ll be safe here?” Harcourt looked around in apprehension.
“That depends on how long it takes for Cromwell’s boys to realize they’ve been sent on a wild ghost chase,” Simon mused, “and how quickly they can track us back here, right?”
Merlin nodded.
“What about your drones?” Amber pointed to the sleek onyx orb silently hovering just above the scientist’s shoulder. “Any word from them?”
“Good question. The rovers are running what I call a leapfrog program. As soon as one gets out of sight of the Roundheads—manages to duck beneath a rise, or veers around a stand of trees—the other will speed further along and start re-projecting our audio-visual.
“That way, the pursuers never come close enough to get a good look. Of course, the soldiers might just give up, and decide to go back to town before it gets dark,” he said. “Or they might run into another shard. Either way, it’s a good idea to check on how they’re doing.” He raised his voice slightly. “Groucho, show us the views from Chico and Harpo, please.”
The helpful drone projected two images in midair, inciting a gasp from Cam, Harcourt, and Nellie. One hologram showed heathlands speeding past, while the other revealed only a black void. Merlin frowned.
“That’s not good. Reverse to last transmission from rover three, rear view.” Both screens recalibrated and showed the horsemen behind them in hot pursuit. One rider moved close enough to hazard a pistol shot, and with a boom of smoke and a crackling electronic squeal, the right-hand screen abruptly went black.
“Damn lucky shot!” Alex swore.
The illusion must have been shattered along with the drone. The remaining screen showed the Roundheads halting in surprise, and it was clear the jig was up. The cavalrymen milled about in confusion for a few moments, then one of them took command. He gestured, they did an about-face, and sped their horses back the way they had come.
“So much for that trick,” Simon said sardonically.
“We were lucky it held up as long as it did,” Merlin replied. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That was almost twenty minutes ago. Now it all depends on how well the Roundheads can track us.” He looked off into the distance. “Harpo, cancel scatter program and return.”
“I simply must know how your flying automatons are able to hear your commands over such great distances,” the Professor gushed.
“It’s a matter of electromagnetic radiation being sent out through a cranial implant,” Merlin replied absently. “Normally, I wouldn’t even have to bother speaking aloud to them, but I think the Spanish Inquisition brigade back there damaged my neural links. I’ll have to check them later, all this talking to the robots is such a boring chore.”
Harcourt started to ask another question, and Merlin held up a hand to forestall him. “I’ll explain further when we’re safely aboard my ship.”
“What do we do now?” Nellie asked. “Keep going? Hunker down here for the night, and leave at first light?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Simon agreed. “At least it’s not as bloody cold here as
it was in Roundheadville.”
Amber nodded. She’d noticed the slight rise in temperature as well, although she’d attributed it to the extra layer of clothes she’d stolen from Stearne’s guard. The leather buff coat was almost too warm now.
“Let’s face it. We’ve had a hell of a day already.” Alex looked at the others. “If we try to keep pushing ourselves, in the state we’re in, I doubt we’ll get very far. At the very least we need some food and water, if not a few hours of sleep.”
No one disagreed.
“Still, though, we can’t let the Roundheads take us by surprise again,” Harcourt cautioned.
Amber had an idea.
“Merlin, can your drones go track them?”
“Well, in theory, yes,” he replied, “but they don’t fly very high, and that kind of thing isn’t really their strong suit. I would need to be guiding them manually. Although—” He paused to think. “What I could do is post them in fixed locations at the perimeter of the forest, to alert us if anyone begins to enter the trees.”
* * *
“That seems like a good plan.” Alex nodded. “In the meantime, let’s see what we can do about our basic needs. Amber, do you think you and Cam might come up with a little firewood?”
“Sure!” Amber replied. She nudged Cam, pantomimed collecting sticks, and the two set off.
“It will need to be a very small fire if we don’t want to attract attention,” Harcourt warned.
“Of course,” Alex replied. “Professor, would you mind splitting up the food into equal parts for everyone?” At first Harcourt looked as if he would object, but then he changed his mind.
“Why, certainly. At your service.”
“Nellie, maybe you could assist the professor?” She turned so Harcourt couldn’t see her face, and mouthed watch him.
Nellie smiled.
“My pleasure.”
Harcourt frowned ever so slightly.
Alex turned to Merlin. “Say, Doctor, can you spare Groucho long enough to help us locate a creek or an artesian spring, anything with some water?”
Merlin nodded. “Finding a basic chemical signature like that will be simple enough for its sensors. Groucho, are you picking up any fresh water nearby?” The orb whirred for a moment, and then projected a red arrow pointing off to the east, deeper into the forest, along with data floating alongside the pointer.
Freshwater source
Approximately 400 meters
“Ta very much,” Alex replied with a smile. She went over to their meager pile of supplies and picked out a bucket, a water skin and few other small items which she quietly placed in an empty flour bag. She sauntered over to where Simon sat resting against a tree, and gave him a soft kick, almost affectionately.
“Hey, you lazy sod. I don’t suppose there’s enough gallantry in you to accompany a lady on a trip to fetch a pail of water, is there?”
He opened a suspicious eye. She stood over him, dangling the water skin by its cord just above him. He frowned, but grabbed it and stood up.
“About time you asked me out for a drink,” he said with a grin.
Harcourt watched the two of them with thinly veiled disapproval.
“I say, would it be better if I accompany the two of you?”
Alex waved him back.
“Thank you for the concern, Professor, but it’s quite alright.” She gave Simon a smile. “We’ll be right back!”
34
As Alex and Simon tramped through the ground cover, the fragrant forest air seemed to swallow the sounds around them, though odd snatches of birdsong echoed now and then.
“Aren’t we there yet?” Simon looked around as they walked, unimpressed with the scenery. “How far did that gadget say it was again?”
“Four hundred meters,” Alex replied. “That’s around two furlongs for you, Grandpa.”
Simon shot her a look. “I bloody well know what a meter is.”
“Well, then let’s cut the whingeing and carry on, shall we? Not too much further.”
Simon opened his mouth to mount a suitable retort, but froze before he got a word out. Alex looked at him in alarm.
“What is it?” she whispered.
He took a moment before answering.
“We’re not alone,” he said softly.
As calmly as possible, they looked around. Anyone wanting to spy on them had plenty of cover, trees, and thick undergrowth. Then a crack sounded close by, then another. A red fox burst from the bushes, staring at them with a wild glare before bolting off.
They let themselves breathe again, exchanging sheepish looks.
“I think we’re going to be okay,” Alex quipped. “Let’s keep going.” Simon shook his head, but followed her without any further protest. He liked to watch her make her way through the woods. Policewomen’s skirts had been much longer in his time. He approved of the change. And was it his imagination, or was Constable Brice putting just a little more sway into her normal no-nonsense stride?
“Jesus!”
Without warning, Alex halted in her tracks, causing Simon to nearly bang into her. He cursed—and looked up to see what was the matter.
A massive skull, far larger than any human cranium, had been impaled on a tall wooden stake, blocking their path at eye level. It was a cave bear, he guessed, painted with thick lines of red ochre. Leather strips hung in ribbons around the pole.
“Prehistoric?” Simon whispered.
“Undoubtedly.” Alex traced a finger along the ridges of the bone. It came away red. “And freshly painted. I wonder who did this.”
Simon shook his head.
“That I don’t know, but I think they live up there.” He pointed up through the trees at an outcropping of mossy rock. Deerskin hides were stretched out over a framework of lashed tree limbs to form a canopy over a cave entrance.
“Let’s be very, very quiet now,” Alex said in a calm, measured voice.
“And get the hell away from here.”
She shook her head. “We can’t just leave.”
Simon stared at her in disbelief.
“Are you stark staring mad?”
“We have to make sure there’s no one in there,” Alex insisted, her tone still calm and low.
“And what if there is? What then?”
Alex shushed him as his voice started to rise.
“Then we get the hell out of here, yeah?”
Simon looked dubious.
“Look, we’re going to be sleeping nearby,” she insisted. “We don’t want anyone sneaking up on us, do we?” She raised an eyebrow.
Simon frowned, but nodded. Alex set down her gear, stepped around the totem and started creeping up toward the mouth of the cave. Simon stayed where he was, looking left and right for any signs of hostile natives.
* * *
Alex made it up to the opening and cautiously peered inside, her heart pounding in her chest despite her brave words. Darkness and quiet and a truly rank smell—that of meat long gone bad. She waited long enough for her eyes to adjust to the gloom, ascertained the cave was empty of humans or animals, then straightened up. The tightness in her chest eased.
“It’s okay,” she called down. “No one’s home.”
She made her way downhill and rejoined Simon.
“Nothing to worry about,” she assured him. “By the looks of things—and the smell—no one’s been around for a while.”
“That’s good news for a change,” Simon muttered. They grabbed their gear and continued on.
As they ventured further, the forest changed in subtle ways from prehistoric to primeval. The low undergrowth of fern and bracken grew denser, joined by horsetails and clusters of firmoss. Oaks and birches vanished altogether, replaced by towering tree ferns and what looked like stands of some giant form of asparagus.
“That’s something then,” Simon remarked.
Alex nodded without comment.
After another hundred yards or so, they came to a small lake. At first glance it
appeared idyllic, a wonderful spot for a picnic. Closer inspection showed lobe-finned fish the size of alligators stomping around the mud chasing jumbo dragonflies and other oversized insects. As Alex and Simon approached, the budding amphibians quickly turned and scurried back into the water.
The little lake swarmed with life, predominantly trilobites and primitive fish—some funny looking, and some scary looking.
“What do you reckon?” Simon asked her.
“It looks safe enough from here, but be careful, there could be something big and nasty lurking beneath the surface.”
“Isn’t there always?”
Alex gave him a look.
“I’m dead serious, you know,” she said. “Just watch yourself. Or don’t. Suit yourself.”
Simon set to work filling the water skins and bucket while Alex went down a little further away from him. She knelt by the water’s edge and washed her hands, then rinsed out her neckerchief and used her reflection in the water to clean up a little.
After a few minutes Simon paused in his work and turned to her with raised eyebrows.
“You’re a big help.”
Alex shrugged. She stood and straightened her skirt and stockings. In the process, she looked up to catch him ogling her.
“Do you mind?”
“What?”
“I’ve seen the way you look at me, Simon. And at Amber. And Nellie.”
“What of it?” he said with mock indignation. “You can’t blame a bloke, can you? You lot trouncing about the countryside in your sassy little skirts and low-cut tops and all.”
“Have you always been such a right cocky little shit?”
He shrugged. “Now, why shouldn’t I be?”
She finished fussing with her stockings, and stood up straight. Crossing her arms, she gave him a long appraising look.
“You know, Simon, the funny thing is, if you were even just the slightest bit better-mannered, some girls might even say you weren’t a half-bad looking fellow.”
He shot her a look. “Constable Brice, are you fraternizing with the enemy?”
“I have to confess, I had an ulterior motive for setting out on this little expedition.” She gave him a half smile. He grinned in response.
