by carl ashmore
She showered and cleaned her teeth. It was, however, as she put on her trainers that a sudden thought entered her head. Could today be the day she saw her father again? Uncle Percy certainly believed it would happen soon – who was to say it couldn’t be today?
Her insides felt like a thousand bees were crawling around within. She felt lighter than air. Suddenly she didn’t care about any potential dangers; all that mattered was seeing him again – holding him, touching him, breathing the same air as him. She wanted to wrap herself in his arms and stay there forever.
And then another thought struck her, one that made her freeze with panic: How would she explain all of this to her mother?
Guilt engulfed her like fire.
Her mother was unaware of so much: the existence of time travel; the Eden Relics; their connection to Emerson Drake, the madman on the verge of conquering the world. But none of it could compare with the fact she didn’t know her husband was still alive and imprisoned in time.
In that moment Becky felt more ashamed than ever. She had played a part in that grand deception - perhaps the major part - and wasn’t sure whether she could even hope for, nevermind expect her mum’s forgiveness, no matter what the outcome with her dad.
But she knew she couldn’t dwell on it now. She coiled her hair into its usual ponytail and stared into the mirror. It was then she realised she was wearing the exact same jeans and t-shirt as when she first arrived at Bowen Hall. But that same young girl wasn’t staring back at her now. Instead, she saw someone similar, but older, wearier, far removed from the person she expected to see, like a portrait by a mediocre painter unable to capture the authenticity of his sitter.
‘Maybe Uncle Percy’s right,’ she muttered to no one. ‘Maybe my childhood is over.’ She gave a sour chuckle and left the bedroom.
*
Rain hammered the ground and an unseasonably cold wind lashed their faces as Becky and Joe sprinted over to the Time Room at nine o’ clock. They made it with a few minutes to spare. Entering through the open door, they saw Bertha parked in the centre of the room, gleaming brighter than ever from a fresh coating of wax.
A grim-faced Uncle Percy was standing beside a table, set down upon which were an array of weapons – pistols and holsters, swords and scabbards, daggers and a new Joe-Bow with two full quivers, one fashioned from red leather, the other from black.
Becky knew immediately why he looked so sad. He had never wanted them to have anything to do with weapons.
Joe, on the other hand, couldn’t have looked happier. Racing over to the table, he said, ‘We really are getting tooled up, aren’t we?’
‘I’m not sure there’s a choice,’ Uncle Percy replied miserably. ‘We simply don’t know what awaits us over the next twenty four hours, so it’s better to be safe than sorry. I’m very sad to say.’
‘Why two quivers?’ Joe asked.
Uncle Percy nodded at the black quiver. ‘That quiver is full of your usual clip-arrows. There are thirty in there.’
‘And the red quiver?’
‘That contains five very special arrows. I call them Thunderbolts. Basically, there’s a five gram Composition D explosive encased in each of the Arthranium Arrowheads.’
Joe’s eyes enlarged. ‘You mean they’re blast arrows?’
‘Blast arrows?’
‘That’s what they call them in Dragon’s Dogma … explosive arrows.’
‘Then yes … they’re blast arrows … and each one could blow a hole in a tank so be judicious when using them.’
Joe’s voice trembled. ‘You’re awesome!’
‘Heartbroken is what I actually am.’
‘Don’t be,’ Joe said. ‘I’m getting to blow stuff up. It’s what I always wanted.’
‘Ah, yes, your commendable career ambition. Well I’m finally giving you the tools to do it. I hope you’re suitably pleased.’
‘Best day ever.’
Uncle Percy gave a deep sigh of disappointment.
Becky perused the objects on the table. Positioned beside the weapons were two wrist portravellas and a peculiar scarlet device that resembled an IPod. ‘What’s that?’ she asked, pointing.
‘That’s a Maxidizor,’ Uncle Percy replied.
‘And what’s a Maxidizor?’
‘Unlike the Thunderbolts, that’s something I’m actually proud of creating. You know what a pagidizor is and what it’s used for, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, it’s a gizmo that sends a distress signal from one time period to another so you can be rescued if you’re in trouble.’
‘That’s correct,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘And the standard issue Pagidizor sends out a single temporal flare to a single receiver. Well, the Maxidizor embraces the same principles but emits multiple flares to numerous receivers across a variety of time points.’
‘And why’s that of any use?’
‘In case you need a number of people from various eras to join you simultaneously.’
‘And why would you need to do that?’
‘Who knows?’ Uncle Percy said. ‘I’m just hoping it actually works. I’ve not completed as much prior testing as I would’ve liked.’
‘It works, sir,’ Barbie said, emerging from the Ecto-Lift, Kenneth beside her. ‘I can assure you of that.’
‘It better had,’ Uncle Percy replied. He turned to Becky and Joe and nodded. ‘Anyway, would you care to take whatever you wish?’
Without hesitation, Joe took a scabbard, fastened it around his waist and slipped a sword into it. Then he placed his old Joe-Bow on the table and picked up the new one. Squeezing its grip, it lengthened into an elegant recurve bow. He turned it in his fingers, testing its balance, and a smile spread over his face. ‘Cool.’ He gestured at Becky. ‘C’mon, Becks, dive in and get yourself some goodies.’ He grinned.
Uncle Percy didn’t find it remotely amusing. ‘They’re not goodies, Joe.’
‘Only kiddin’.’ Joe slung both quivers over his shoulder. C’mon, Becks … take summat.’
‘Do I have to?’ Becky said to Uncle Percy. ‘I haven’t a clue how to use any of them, anyway.’
‘Of course you don’t, my dear.’
‘Then I won’t.’
Joe looked confused. ‘Don’t be bonkers, Becks. You might need to defend yourself and I can’t always be there to save you.’
Becky glared at him. ‘I don’t need you to save me.’
‘Course you don’t,’ Joe said sarcastically.
At hearing his tone, Becky’s temper flared. She fixed her gaze on him, and concentrated hard. Immediately the watery sensation oozed into her eyes.
Suddenly – whack – Joe’s face snapped right as if being struck by an invisible hand. ‘Oww,’ he yelled, his hand shooting up to his cheek.
‘D’you still think I need guns to defend myself?’
‘No … no you don’t,’ Joe grumbled. ‘I forgot about your googly powers. And don’t do that again … it hurt.’
Hiding a grin, Becky’s eyes found Uncle Percy’s. ‘So are you going to get Lady Raleigh?’
An unreadable expression flashed on his face. ‘Lady Raleigh? Oh, her … yes. I will do when we’ve arrived at the golden statue.’
‘Why not now?’
‘Before I do that I’d like to spend some time with you and Joe.’
‘Why?’ Joe asked.
‘Because, as I’ve said before, a wonderful life should be about wonderful experiences, and I think I have one for you.’
‘We’re going into a deadly situation,’ Joe said. ‘Have we really got time for “wonderful experiences”?’
‘I’m a time traveller. I can give us time. And it’s precisely because we’re heading into possible danger we should take the time to appreciate why life is worth fighting for.’
Joe shook his head. ‘Sometimes you’re off your nut!’
‘I do hope so. Whatever that means.’
‘So what do you want to show us?’ Becky asked.
‘I thought we’
d take a drive along the River Potaro. The scenery is really quite breath-taking.’
‘We’re going sightseeing?’ Joe snorted.
‘Why not?’
‘Because we should be preparing to fight a shed load of monsters with mouths where their belly buttons should be.’
‘If you want to think about that whilst Becky and I enjoy some of the most remarkable vistas the world has to offer then be my guest.’ And with that Uncle Percy pocketed the Maxidizor, slid a pistol into the holster he wore beneath his jacket, attached a sword and scabbard to his waist, and secured the two portravellas to his wrists. ‘Barbie, Kenneth, we’re leaving now, but you know what I need you to do.’
‘Sir,’ Kenneth replied. ‘I understand your instructions but I really think I should come with you.’
‘And for once I agree with him,’ Barbie added, to Kenneth’s visible delight.
‘No,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘You’ve got your directives, and I’d appreciate it if you’d carry them out to the letter.’
Joe’s exasperation grew. ‘Are you kidding me? We’re not even taking Kenneth?’
‘He has things to do here.’
‘But he’s a fighting machine … are you not even thinking about our safety?’
‘I’m thinking about a whole host of things,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Now Kenneth has got his duties and we have ours, so are you coming or would you prefer to stay here?’ He opened Bertha’s driver’s door and climbed in.
Becky glanced at Joe, who looked decidedly unhappy. And she could understand why. What was Uncle Percy thinking? Danger was likely, inevitable even, and their best chance of survival was with Kenneth, she had no doubt about that. Still, Uncle Percy didn’t seem to have any intention of changing his mind, so after trading futile shrugs, she and Joe boarded the campervan.
‘Next stop - the Pakaraima Mountains, South West Guyana, 1619 AD,’ Uncle Percy said in a bright, jovial voice, flicking a small yellow button below the indicator light. Immediately, the campervan gave a violent jolt, nearly pitching Becky and Joe off their seats.
Clasping the handrail, Becky yelled, ‘What’s happening?’
‘Nothing to worry about,’ Uncle Percy replied with a smile.
The campervan lurched fiercely again and this time a loud hiss sounded beneath their feet. Staring out of the window, Becky saw they were rising off the floor as if on an inflatable cushion. ‘Well I am worried,’ she shouted over the rising noise. ‘What the hell’s going on?’
‘We’re just readying our departure.’ Uncle Percy keyed in six digits on the chronalometer. Straightaway, torrents of misty light gushed from Bertha’s dashboard, illuminating the campervan’s interior.
‘It’s never done this before,’ Becky shouted, as the campervan levelled off a foot or so above the ground.
‘True,’ Uncle Percy replied nonchalantly, ‘but then I’ve never demonstrated the full extent of Bertha’s capabilities before.’
‘What capabilit – ’
Before Becky could finish, an ear-piercing BOOOOM ripped the air.
*
Fleetingly blinded, Becky’s eyes soon adjusted to see they had arrived in a new setting entirely. Brilliant blue sky had replaced black clouds, and a rambling stretch of mountains filled her eye line, their crests and peaks vanishing amidst low hanging mist. She turned left to look over Uncle Percy’s shoulder and saw a wide tree-lined expanse of river taper into the distance.
But then she realised something that sent her head spiralling.
They hadn’t arrived on the river bank at all. They had arrived on the river.
Flushed with panic, she screamed in Uncle Percy’s ear, ‘We’re in the water!’
‘Flippin’ ‘eck!’ Joe puffed.
Fully expecting them to start sinking, Becky saw Uncle Percy was chuckling to himself. He turned round, wearing a smile that stretched from ear to ear.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘No one’s about to sink. Remember I once told you I had made minor modifications to Bertha … some may argue they weren’t exactly minor.’ He placed his foot on the accelerator and they glided across the water at a slow, steady pace.
‘Bertha’s a boat?’ Joe said, amazed.
‘A hovercraft, actually,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Now it’s a two hour journey before we reach the Kaieteur Falls and we’re not rushing, so sit back and enjoy the views. Joe, we’ll worry about those monsters of yours later.’ He pushed a blue button on the dashboard and a noise sounded above.
From nowhere, a blast of sunlight blinded Becky. Glancing up through squinted eyes, she saw Bertha’s roof was sliding back on metal rails. A few seconds later it had completely retracted into its frame.
‘Bertha’s a convertible?’ Joe laughed.
‘She is,’ Uncle Percy replied.
‘You have a convertible Volkswagen campervan that’s also a hovercraft. You may be off your nut but you’re also very cool.’
‘I shall take that as a compliment,’ Uncle Percy replied. He opened the glove compartment and withdrew a white captain’s hat with gold trim on its peak and an anchor on its crown. He fixed the cap on his head and said, ‘Anchors Aweigh!’
‘You plonker!’ Becky giggled.
The campervan moved smoothly over the coffee-coloured water. Becky reclined on her chair, inhaled the deepest breath she could and stared out over the river. The trees seemed alive with colour and song, as toucans and macaws darted through their branches. Giant tapirs paddled in the shallows and a group of spider monkeys studied them from the shade of giant overhanging ferns.
After ten minutes, Becky felt thoroughly relaxed. It was then she noticed Joe’s expression had turned grave. ‘Are you all right?’
Joe took a moment to answer and when he did his tone betrayed his words. ‘Yeah, I’m fine…’
‘You’re obviously not. What’s the matter?’
‘Yes, come on, Joe,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘If something’s wrong, then it’s better out than in.’
‘There’s nowt wrong as such … but I was wondering if I could ask you about Otto Kruger?’
‘What about him?’
‘Well you looked into Drake’s early life,’ Joe said. ‘Have you ever done the same thing with him?’
‘Yes … yes I have.’
‘Will you tell me what you found out?’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Everything.’
‘That would take considerably longer than this journey.’
‘Then tell me what made him such an evil pig.’
‘I’m not sure I can answer that.’
‘Why?’
‘Because as far as I can see there is no reason...’
These words stunned Joe to silence. ‘No reason?’
‘Not that I can see,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘And I really have looked. As a rule humans are not born monsters, evil is not a natural instinct, it’s something that is embedded, implanted even, by the actions of others. The abused becomes the abuser. Emerson Drake, for instance, had such a damaged childhood in retrospect it’s easy to see why he turned out like he did. But this wasn’t the case with Otto Kruger. As far as I can tell, in his formative years he was surrounded by love and tenderness.’
‘You’re kidding me?’
‘I’m not. He was born into a very happy family in Memmingen, Bavaria. His parents were accountants and he had a very comfortable upbringing. He was an only child, and to all intents and purposes he was a polite, respectful young boy who was good at sport, art and carpentry. There was nothing whatsoever to suggest he would turn into the man he became. Now I could tell you about his entrance to the Nazi Party at eighteen years of age, how he rose quickly within the ranks of the Sturmabteilung, before joining the Schutzstaffel, and how he became a key member of Hitler’s ‘Protection Squadron’. I could tell you about his becoming Hitler’s most trusted bodyguard, and about his disappearance in 1940 to work for Emerson Drake, but what I cannot do is give reasons as to why that polite you
ng boy became the beast he did. I won’t tell you some of the stories I’ve heard, but the truth is that Otto Kruger is every bit the devil Maria says he is … his viciousness, his cruelty, his lack of decency really does know no bounds.’
‘So why do you think he became evil?’ Becky asked.
Uncle Percy sighed. ‘I think there’s something to be said for there being a binary element to many aspects of the universe: the mental and the physical, the mind and the body, the male and the female, true and false, on and off. In order for one to exist, there must be zero. In order for absolute goodness to exist there must be absolute evil. I suppose, Otto Kruger is precisely that – the binary opposite of good, an evil without explanation, remorse or reason … and that’s the purest form there is.’
Joe dwelled on this for some time. ‘I don’t know about any of that,’ he said with an edge. ‘It just sounds like a load of fancy words to me. What I do know is we won’t have to bother about him soon, because he won’t be alive for us to bother about. I’m gonna make sure of that…’
Becky didn’t doubt he meant every word of it.
Not for a second.
Chapter 26
Bess is Back
Joe’s words put them all in such a downbeat mood it was impossible to enjoy the views after that. As they traversed the river, Becky reflected on her recent conversation with Uncle Percy. Above all, one particular phrase burrowed into her brain like a tapeworm: ‘Perhaps the future has visited me.’
What did he mean by that?
Had a future time traveller actually visited him? And if so – who? And why? And then, not for the first time, the full complexity of time travel hit her – the traveller could have been Uncle Percy, Joe, or even Becky herself! Her head whirled. She decided the very idea posed so many unanswerable questions it was pointless dwelling on it.
As the time passed, Joe’s spirits improved and soon they were chatting away as if on a canal barge on the Norfolk Broads and not a hovering campervan in 17th Century Guyana. A few hours later, the water grew choppier and they heard a roaring sound from somewhere up ahead.
