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[Chronicles of Time 01.0] Chronicles of Time

Page 8

by J. C. Allen


  He rested a few moments and then trudged on, coming to a stream. He was carrying the open box carefully. “I destroyed the method of time displacement; it is not possible to change the past now, nor is it possible to change the future in it without a special command. However, the information in displaced time could cause you to change the future inadvertently, so be very careful. Each time anyone uses this machine from now on, in this mode you will enter a copy of this time-space, if you will, and it is contained in memory indefinitely. I was in the process of destroying the ability to enter future time-space and that is the reason Bignose, er, Bergamiser, put this hole in my side. It is dangerous to see the future; I found that out the hard way. I encourage you to never travel to the future. If you find this, Bergamiser, may you rot in Hell for carrying out your evil plans. But it’s not too late to develop a…” He coughed, noticed it was blood he was coughing up and sighed. “I’m—” he forced a chuckle, “history! Be careful with time; it’s dangerous. There’s so much you need to know but I’m… I’m out of... time, hah! It’s necessary to learn before you—”

  He gasped, clutching his chest, barely recovering this time. “It’s... time... time to go…”

  He dug into his pocket, took out a coin and placed it with the other things, and then took off the necklace, which abruptly ended the recording.

  “Any questions now?” a glazed-faced Rick asked somberly.

  “Did he die, Daddy?” Jessica asked with a sad expression, full of empathy.

  “Duh!” Anna answered for him.

  “OK, let’s watch a movie,” Rick attempted to change the subject.

  “No Daddy! We have to find out what happened!” Jessica implored.

  “We have to find the time machine!” Alex added. “There could be more answers in the—”

  “Stop,” Rick demanded. “We can’t find out anything else right now—”

  “But there’s more on the chronicler—” Alex continued to protest.

  “I said stop. You saw that list.” He snatched the device and shut it off, “There’s fifty to a hundred thousand or more recordings on this thing, it would take years to watch them all. Relax, take a chill pill!”

  They all stared at him like he just kicked their dog.

  Abby tried a different approach. “How about one of you get some bowls for the cheese puffs and glasses for drinks, and one of you get the Pepsi out of the fridge. And Anna, set up the DVD for us, OK?”

  Each considered her words for a brief moment, and then Christy and Jessica went upstairs. Kaylie and Alex walked over to the fridge while Anna stuck a movie in the player. Moments later, they had food and drinks laid out in front of them, and Anna sat down with the remote to start their movie.

  Finally, Abby got up to turn off the lights and Anna hit play, cranking the stereo system up considerably louder than normal, watching Rick to see if he protested.

  While the movie played, the girls continued to whisper about the items, and what they had been used for. By 1:00 AM, Christy, Jessica and Anna were out cold, snuggled together like a litter of newborn pups. Kaylie was leaning forward, intensely into the movie, Alex was propped up against Rick’s shoulder, half-asleep, and Abby now leaned on his other side, also barely awake.

  Without complaint, Rick slid out, leaving Alex to right herself, pulling Abby along with him.

  “I’m going to bed,” Abby told him drowsily.

  “Let’s check the messages first.”

  “Go ahead, I couldn’t read it right now anyway,” she said, swaying groggily. She put her arms around him and slumped into a long, unstable hug, then backed off enough to plant a light kiss on him and dragged herself up the stairs after winking and saying, “Don’t be too long,” as suggestively as she could while nearly zombiefied.

  Rick strode to the computer and settled comfortably into his cushioned chair.

  Hearing the computer monitor come on, Alex roused and stumbled over and plopped down in his lap as he checked the messages.

  There were four new messages: “12:00, Of course no match in USGS. 12:14, No topo or streams or rivers matching both lines. 12:35, Checking satellite images, found something, trying to get infrared and x-ray access. 1:02, You won’t believe me if I’m right.”

  Rick glanced at the clock: 1:08. He figured Rob was still on and wrote a reply, “Rick here, whatcha got?” Just as he finished typing, he received a file.

  Rob replied, “Got the picture?”

  “Just did, go ahead and explain.”

  “I trust my coin is well preserved?”

  Rick was studying the picture. It was a satellite image from space of the area where Alex found the cube. The picture was huge. Another file arrived, then another.

  “OK, I don’t see anything…”

  “My coin?”

  “It’s fine — sealed in carbonite, like Han Solo,” Rick answered.

  “OK. Look at the image you gave me, then this photo. See the bike trail? It matches one line pretty closely — the middle line is the stream—”

  “But the stream doesn’t match,” Rick said quickly.

  “Waterways can change drastically in 250 years,” was Rob’s easy reply.

  That made sense to Rick. “OK... what’s the other line?”

  “Well, that took some effort. I had to merge infrared and x-ray images, but if you look at the next picture, you’ll see.”

  Rick was already looking at it. “Wow,” he said out loud, causing Alex to perk up and check it out.

  “That, my friend, is the forgotten trail. It appears to be buried by perhaps two to four feet of earth, but it leads to the next picture.”

  Rick looked at the next image — a view of a mountain.

  “And you’ll really like this next one — it’s a geological survey of this cave system you might find interesting.”

  Rick received another file and quickly loaded it. He studied it carefully, comparing it to the inset map and discovered it matched perfectly, except... “Where’s the branch that leads to the X?”

  “That, I can’t find. I did find some history of the caves, but this study was over a hundred years old and the last mention of it was shortly after. I pulled off property details, which is kind of standard if you’re planning a dig. I wasn’t sure if you wanted that or not.”

  “Let me guess. Taylor?”

  “Wow, close! The Taylor Foundation, a firm in Raleigh, owns the land. As far as I can tell, that is their only holding. It may be a wildlife preserve or something odd, but I’ll send the info!”

  “Good. I’d like to see what kind of background these caves have.”

  “All I can tell is that it’s completely grown over — you got the picture. There were no minerals found inside, either… maybe mined out? Hey! How did you get the name of the owner?”

  “Did some research of my own; it was a lucky guess, really.”

  “Oh, I get it. Can you send me a picture of the coin? I know someone who would probably jump right on it.”

  Rick chuckled. “Hold on a sec…” He got up, took some pictures of the coin and sent them as Rob relayed the information about the current maps with GPS coordinates as well as the ‘Taylor Foundation’ information.

  Rick printed all the information. Kaylie then lumbered over and asked what was going on. Rick took one look at her and decided not to tell her anything until morning because she looked so tired. “I think it’s time you girls get to bed. We have a track meet and a soccer game tomorrow.”

  Both girls nodded, gave him hugs and kisses, and plodded up the stairs. Rick said bye to Rob and thanked him. Rob promised to continue researching and update him on anything else he could find.

  He shook Anna awake and told her to go to bed. She whined, but agreed, and then promptly closed her eyes. He jolted her awake again and she realized he wasn’t going away so she reluctantly headed to bed. He then wrestled Jessica into his arms and woke Christy, eventually following her up the stairs and laying Jessica in the bed beside her.

/>   Worn out himself, he finally retired to his own bed, where he slipped quietly in beside Abby and quickly entered dream world.

  Chapter 9 — Soccer Dad

  Rick awoke to bouncing and shaking. Two giggling girls were using his bed as a trampoline. Abby screamed at first, but soon joined in the effort to force him from the bed. He grabbed Jessica with one arm and Christy with the other, pulled them down on the bed, and proceeded to relentlessly tickle them into oblivion. Abby jumped on his back and they grappled and fought for two minutes before Anna, hearing the commotion from the kitchen, finally came in and beckoned them to the breakfast table. The smell helped.

  Before leaving his room, he could already taste the muffins, but when he turned toward the dining room, a wonderful buffet was laid out: a heap of scrambled eggs, plate full of sausage, bacon and ham, a pile of french toast, a stack of toast, muffins of many different flavors in a basket, jelly, butter, syrup and a tray of assorted fruits, as well as three different types of potatoes (hash browns, chunks and fried slices).

  Rick put his arms around Abby from behind, embracing her and whispering in her ear, “I think they’re trying to tell us something.”

  “What?”

  “I think they like you being here?”

  “I thought you said they often fix breakfast...”

  “They do,” he pointed in amazement, “but not like this! Look at it. I’ll bet every utensil is in a precisely measured spot.”

  Abby put her finger to her chin, facetiously saying, “It is quite an unusual display for young American girls…”

  “Quite a peculiar species, eh?” he joked back.

  She laughed playfully, “I didn’t mean to analyze them like cavemen—”

  “Sometimes I feel like that would be the most appropriate analogy. They certainly act like cavemen sometimes. Let’s eat and enjoy it now though, while it lasts. Savor it while we can. One day they may get their wish and you’ll become the evil stepmother they always wanted to have so they can hate you,” he jabbed, hinting a bit much.

  “Yes, definitely,” she said, ignoring half of his statement.

  As they approached the table, Alex and Jessica jumped up and politely pulled out their chairs as if they were royalty. Anna then delicately poured the appropriate drinks and reclaimed her seat. Kaylie and Christy each rose next and placed a napkin in Rick and Abby’s laps before returning to their seats. Alex stood next, reaching for some food to dish out for them.

  “Wait!” Rick yelled, giggling and smiling broadly. “What is going on, Alex?”

  Alex feigned shock, “Why, I was only going to serve your breakfast to you, sir! What would you desire on your plate this morning?” she answered with a straight face, and then bowed for dramatic effect, awaiting his reply.

  “What’s next? Is someone going to chew our food for us as well?” he asked.

  Anna raised her hand as if she were in class and giggled, “Um, that’s my job!”

  Christy snickered and added, “I’m supposed to wipe your mouth.”

  “OK, why are you doing this today?”

  “Because we love you,” came at him in five-part harmony, as if rehearsed.

  “Riiight! You sure it’s not because Abby’s here?”

  “No,” Jessica blurted. “Well, I mean we’re glad she’s here, and wish she was here every day, but that’s not why we did it. We did it—”

  “Because we love you!” Anna interrupted, as if to hide something.

  “OK, Rick isn’t dumb and he knows you girls better than you know yourselves, so just tell him what you want and let’s eat!” Rick said, undeniably blunt.

  “Well,” Kaylie started as Rick motioned for everyone to pass the food around, “we’ve been up since 7:30, and we were downstairs, and we found the maps and read your messages — eggs please! — and um, well, we wanted you to take us there after breakfast—”

  Rick sighed, “Sorry, we can’t, we have places to go today, but we will go afterwards, at least to see the cave.”

  Everyone whined and moaned.

  “What we need to do first is get equipment together—”

  “Cave?” Anna’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “I’m not going in no cave.”

  “Yes cave. That’s why we can’t go this morning. It would take entirely too long and we have a track meet at noon and soccer at 4:00. Please don’t be disappointed and don’t think you failed this morning — this breakfast is totally incredible!”

  “Yes, amazing!” Abby added with a full mouth. “You didn’t even tell me you found it, Rick,” she scolded him.

  “Why don’t we just drop Anna off at the track, she doesn’t want to go to the cave anyway!” Alex suggested.

  Anna shot a very menacing look her way.

  “No,” Rick waved her off. “We will all go to the track meet and the game, no question about it. You girls don’t work so hard at these sports for us to not be there to support you.”

  “OK,” a resigned Kaylie asked, “so what do we need to do then?”

  “And tell us about the caves...” Christy added.

  They went through the rest of the meal intently listening to his explanation of all he had learned the night before as well as all he intended to find out today, then went through a list of things they required for their anticipated cave adventure.

  The girls bubbled with excitement, gladly taking assignments to prepare them for the trip, even Anna was gallantly awaiting the opportunity to battle huge bats, which she was certain dwelled within the evil cave.

  It was 10:30 when they finished cleaning up breakfast. Rick reminded each of the girls of their role in spelunking preparation and they darted off to acquire the necessary equipment while he took Abby downstairs to show her the information.

  Urged by Abby, Rick decided to call the Taylor Foundation to see what they could learn about the property.

  “Hello?” was the peculiar response.

  “Um, hi, is this the Taylor Foundation?”

  “Oh, yes of course, sorry,” the man sounded as if he had been sleeping, which he had.

  “I’m sorry, I must have been given the wrong number; is there another number I should call instead of your home phone?”

  “Oh, no,” said the venerable voice on the other end, “this is the only, yes, the only number to call. Are you calling about the property? I certainly hope not, because it’s not for sale and never will be. It’s imperative that you accept that and do not trouble me about it further. I have grown weary and impatient with your people calling me time and time again. Understand that it’s not for sale, at any price, period!”

  Rick held out the phone and stared at it as if it had grown arms and slapped him. He finally said to the old man, “What do you mean? Someone is pressuring you to sell the land? But why? It’s not worth a lot…”

  “Exactly! It’s a hillside — that’s what I tell them. They offer millions; I say no; they offer more. It’s unnerving. Same man most of the time — fellow senior citizen, like myself, although he seems to have a bit more lilt in his voice than I — for the last twenty years or more... Why am I telling you this? I don’t know. Speak up, boy, what do you want?”

  Rick quickly thought of the best story, “Well, I’m doing a study and—”

  “Telemarketer?” the man shot back.

  “Oh no! An academic study. I received information that your foundation is over two hundred years old and I wish to learn about it. It’s one of the oldest in the area. I’d like to learn about its history — who set it up, who runs it and... why?”

  “I see. Of course. I don’t see why that could be a problem. Well, hmm... where to start?”

  “The beginning, preferably?” Rick prompted, feeling as if he had to nudge the man’s brain into gear.

  “Of course! Well, Helen Taylor started the Foundation in 1785; it was written into her will, naming the terms and the person who would control it as well as four others, always maintaining at least five people to take charge and replace
their name with a new one. It was her late husband, John’s wish. It’s really an endowment, you know. It was started with ten million dollars, and always growing with inflation. The executor keeps the interest after a certain percentage is funneled back into it. It’s over two billion dollars now.”

  “Wow, what’s the…”

  “The purpose? Well, the only purpose I know of is to keep from selling the land! The land is worthless, you see, estimated two years ago at a $35,000 hunk of hillside with no access right of way. Must’ve been special to the poor old sod!”

  “Yes, it must have...”

  “Well, I’m the thirteenth executor and we have all been ordered to maintain a log of our transactions and report earnings and such each year as well as inquiries. The damnedest thing is, someone has been trying to buy the worthless lot the entire time, for hundreds of times the value.”

  There was a long pause. “Do you know who?” Rick asked.

  “Who? No, can’t say that I do; don’t care either. If I sell the land, the endowment goes to charity and I lose my job. You know how much interest there is on two billion dollars? They offered me four million to sell the land a while back. I laughed!”

 

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