The Time Hunters and the Box of Eternity (The Time Hunters Saga Book 2)

by carl ashmore

  ‘It’s not that exciting though,’ Joe replied. Then his eyes gleamed as another idea popped into his head. ‘What about that place in America where that flying saucer crashed in the nineteen forties. I read about it on Wikipedia.’

  ‘Roswell, New Mexico.’

  ‘Yeah. Didn’t they find a couple of aliens with heads in a spaceship?’

  ‘Oh, they weren’t aliens,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘And there was no spaceship.’

  ‘But something happened?’

  ‘Oh, something happened, all right,’ Uncle Percy chuckled. ‘But I’m afraid the supposed spaceship was, in actual fact, a 1985 Delorean DMC 12 sports car driven by an Australian time traveller Emmet Lloyd. Apparently, it had a similar problem to the one Bertha had, a malfunctioning Terriflexor Condenser, which caused it to crash-land quite spectacularly in the desert. Unfortunately, the materialisation and subsequent crash were witnessed, and therein lies the birth of the Alien theory. Anyway, as Emmet lay there, unconscious, somebody contacted the authorities and both Emmet and his time machine were taken away. Anyway, when Emmet came round he triggered his pagidizor and was rescued by Charlie Millport.’

  Becky thought for a moment. ‘Hang on, wasn’t there a film with a Delorean time machine?’

  ‘Was there?’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘I haven’t seen it. I’m rather surprised you haven’t noticed, but Bowen Hall doesn’t have a television set…’

  Once breakfast was over, Becky and Joe made their way to the stables. Frost glittered like sugar on the surrounding fields and an icy breeze chilled Becky’s nose. As they neared their destination, Becky’s heart fluttered. Of all the amazing creatures at Bowen Hall, it was Pegasus she missed most when she wasn’t here. After their adventure and until the end of the summer holidays, Becky had spent each day taking care of her, feeding and grooming her, helping with the vaccinations, and most of all playing with her, until they had forged a solid, unbreakable bond. Her pace quickened when she spied the paddock. Then she spotted a large, powerful creature, three curved horns protruding from its giant head, lying guard beside the nearest stable door. Gump had grown considerably taller and wider since they’d last seen him and now resembled an armoured car.

  ‘Gumpy!’ Joe said. He raced over and patted the Triceratops’ beak-like nose. ‘Jeez, Gumpy! You need to cut back on the pies, mate. For a baby, you’re massive.’

  ‘I’d say he was officially a toddler now,’ Becky said.

  As her voice hung in the air, a snowy white head popped round the stable door, puffing excitedly. Pegasus cantered out of the stable into daylight.

  ‘Peggy!’ Becky squealed, wrapping her arms round the foal, feeling her little wings flutter with joy.

  Joe smiled. ‘Is it me or has Peggy grown a fair bit, too?’

  Becky stood back and took a long look. ‘I think you’re right,’ she said, crouching down and kissing Peggy’s nose. ‘So have you missed me?’ Then she glared at Gump. ‘Now what’s this about you fancying Peggy? Just remember, if you mess with her you’ll have me to -’ She didn’t even finish her sentence, when a sudden cool gust of wind blew back her hair; goose pimples shot up on her neck. She cast Joe a fearful look as a tiny ball of light appeared above them, growing in size.

  ‘Oh, no!’ she breathed.

  Just then, lightning bolts shot all around, disappearing when an almighty boom ripped the air. When Becky’s eyes adjusted, she saw a gigantic motorcycle had replaced the light, its wide chrome handlebars gleaming. An enormous man sat astride it wearing a heavy black leather jacket, his long bushy brown hair, speckled with grey, was tied in a ponytail beneath a wide-brimmed coal-black Stetson hat.

  ‘Well, well … what a nice surprise …’ the biker growled in a slurred American drawl. ‘If it ain’t little Becky Mellor.’

  Becky was about to turn and run when the biker’s face split into a smile. ‘You sure are as pretty as a peach.’

  Confused, Becky replied, ‘Erm, thank you.’

  ‘Now where’s that brother of yours?’ He looked round and his eyes found Joe. ‘Ah, there he is. Hell, boy, ain’t you gettin’ as big as a mustang! Howdy to ya.’

  Joe looked stunned. ‘H-howdy.’

  ‘And you are?’ Becky asked.

  ‘Where are my manners?’ The biker whipped off his hat, flung his massive legs over the bike, stood to his full height and bowed. ‘I’m Bruce, missy. Bruce Westbrook.’ Fixing his hat back on his head, he walked over to Becky, his hand outstretched. ‘I’m an old pal of tha’ dogoody uncle of yours.’ Then his gaze fell on Pegasus. ‘I’ll be a wood rat’s auntie. The famous Pegasus. Your uncle told me she was a beauty, but I had no idea.’ He walked over to Peggy and knelt before her.

  ‘She doesn’t take kindly to strangers,’ Becky warned quickly.

  Bruce traced his hand gently across Peggy’s back and spoke in a soft, rhythmic tone. ‘She’s a horse, ain’t she? What I don’t know ‘bout horses ain’t worth knowin’.’

  Joe stared wide-eyed at the motorcycle. ‘Cool bike!’

  ‘She’s a honey, that’s for sure,’ Bruce replied, getting to his feet. ‘This here is Sweet Sue. She’s a 1983 FLHS Electra Glide Sport Harley Davidson. In my opinion, the finest ride ever built.’ His gaze lingered on the motorcycle before he turned to face Becky and Joe. ‘Is your uncle around?’

  ‘He’s working in his laboratory,’ Becky replied.

  ‘Okay dokes,’ Bruce said. ‘D’you guys wanna climb aboard Sweet Sue and we’ll go and have ourselves a little pow-wow with him.’

  ‘He said he didn’t want to be disturbed,’ Becky said.

  Bruce’s expression turned grave. ‘Oh, he’ll be fine bein’ disturbed by what I gotta tell him. You see, yesterday I was swilling grog in a pirate bar in eighteenth century Tortuga, and who should mosey in, surrounded by his bullyboys, but an old sparring partner of his. And from what I heard, you may know the scumbag, too?’

  ‘Us?’ Becky asked, confused.

  ‘Sure. The name Otto Kruger mean anything to you?’

  - Chapter 7 -

  A Fistful of Doubloons

  Becky’s blood turned cold. Otto Kruger was Emerson Drake’s enforcer, Adolf Hitler’s ex bodyguard and one of the most cold-hearted killers in history. ‘What was he doing there?’

  ‘That, little lady, is a mighty long story,’ Bruce replied. ‘And one I don’t have all the answers to. However, let’s go and see that uncle of yours. Maybe, together, we’ll find us some…’ Bruce mounted the bike and gestured for Becky and Joe to climb aboard.

  Ordinarily, Becky would have been thrilled to ride on a motorbike, the breeze whipping her hair, fields blurring as they passed, but memories of Otto Kruger crashed into her head, leaving an ugly knot in her stomach.

  Bruce steered Sweet Sue to the side of the Hall, where they stopped before a windowless outbuilding. Although she had only visited the uppermost floor, The Time Room, Becky knew that beneath it lay a multi-levelled complex where Uncle Percy kept his time machines (he admitted to having five), and who knew what else? She jumped off the bike, moved to the thickset steel door and gave it a shove. It didn’t budge. ‘Locked!’ she said, before rapping three times. She looked at Joe. ‘And if he’s working in the Lower Levels he’ll never hear us, even if we use your head as a battering ram.’

  Just as the words left her mouth, a shrill bleep sounded and a small, very ordinary looking brick morphed into a screen. The screen flicked on and Uncle Percy appeared at its center, wearing a pair of thick-rimmed glasses that magnified his eyes to the size of apples. ‘Hello, Becky. What can I do for you?’

  Bruce stepped forward. ‘You can get your butt out here and give some lovin’ to the Arizonian wildman.’

  Uncle Percy looked surprised. ‘Bruce?’

  ‘In all my beautiful glory, old buddy.’ His tone grew serious. ‘And we got ourselves some business to attend to, my friend.’

  ‘Have we?’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Very well. If you would just wait there a jiffy, I’ll se
nd my latest project out to collect you.’ His face shone. ‘I’ve literally only just finished her.’

  Becky and Joe exchanged intrigued glances. Her?

  A few moments later, Becky saw the circular pad to the right of the door flash green and she heard the jarring crunch of a hundred bolts twisting free. As the door inched open, Becky had the surprise of her life. A metallic figure stood there, gleaming beneath the strip lights. Barely meeting Becky’s waist, it had a distinctly feminine quality about it with soft, rounded features, a friendly oval face and a large pink bow fixed to the side of its head.

  ‘It’s a robot!’ Joe blurted out.

  ‘Good morning, Master Joseph. I am, indeed, a robot, although I prefer the term Electroic Cognivated Gynoid.’ The robot gave a little bow. ‘If Miss Rebecca, Master Joseph and Mister Westbrook would kindly follow me.’ And the robot swivelled round, and with short, jerky movements stepped away from the door.

  Becky, Joe and Bruce trailed the robot to the far end of the Time Room, where a translucent door slid open on their approach. Entering a tiny box room with a handrail on all sides, they lined up behind the robot as she said, ‘Floor minus 6, Room 1A. The Knick-Knack Room. Oh, and Mister Halifax suggests you hold onto something.’

  As Becky seized the handrail, the floor vibrated and – whoosh – the lift plummeted down at a dizzying speed. Becky’s stomach lurched. Bruce and Joe took it in turns to see who could give the loudest whoop. Then with a sudden jolt, the lift stopped, before speeding sidewards, room after room blurring before their very eyes. Then it shot upwards and stopped again for a moment or two, before another sheer drop and a crashing halt, which threw Becky roughly against the door. Rubbing her shoulder, her groans were drowned out by Joe and Bruce high-fiving each other.

  Disorientated, Becky looked out to see Uncle Percy standing beside a circular table in a large room filled with high shelves, stuffed with various objects. ‘Welcome,’ he said, his arms outstretched.

  The lift door slid open and they all stumbled out.

  ‘That was ace,’ Joe said. ‘Can we do it again?’

  ‘I thought you might appreciate that, Joe. The Ectolift has an ultra-booster very similar to the one fitted to the Silver Ghost. I don’t normally use it myself but I thought you might enjoy a little ride.’

  Bruce’s enthusiasm equalled Joe’s. ‘You wanna get that sold to Disneyland.’

  Uncle Percy chuckled. ‘I don’t think so, Bruce.’

  Becky couldn’t quite see the funny side. ‘You could have warned us.’ She growled, smoothing down her hair, which now resembled a disheveled hedge.

  ‘And where would the fun in that be?’ Uncle Percy replied.

  ‘Fun is not having a broken neck!’

  Joe looked around. ‘This place is massive.’

  ‘It is certainly sizeable, Joe,’ Uncle Percy agreed. ‘I forgot you’d not been down here. There are six floors and forty-two rooms in total. There’s even a swimming pool somewhere, but I haven’t used it in a decade. You should bring your costumes one time and we’ll all go for a dip sometime. That reminds me …’ He stared at the robot. ‘Barbie, if you could clean the pool for me when you have the chance. I think it’s on floor minus three.’

  The little robot gave a jerky nod. ‘Certainly, sir.’

  Becky laughed with disbelief. ‘Barbie? You’ve named her Barbie?’

  ‘After the doll?’ Joe said.

  Uncle Percy looked baffled. ‘The doll? What on earth do you mean? She’s named after Barbara McClintock.’ Becky and Joe looked at him, puzzled. ‘You know, The Barbara McClintock who won the Nobel Prize for Physiology and Medicine in 1983?’ He tutted. ‘What on earth do they teach you in schools, nowadays?’

  ‘You can’t expect the kids to be as nerdy as you, good buddy,’ Bruce said. ‘Now come for some big man lovin’ you freaky brainpot.’ He walked over and gave Uncle Percy a hug.

  ‘Great to see you again, Bruce,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

  Bruce face turned grave. ‘You got any bourbon?’

  It’s a little early in the day for me but – ’

  ‘If it’s daytime, it ain’t too early.’

  ‘Barbie, would you get Mister Westbrook a glass of -’

  Bruce gave a dissatisfied grunt.

  ‘ – A bottle of bourbon …’ Uncle Percy continued. ‘And a jug of lemonade for the rest of us. Thank you, my dear.’

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  Becky watched as Barbie stomped through a door on the left. ‘Where did she come from?’

  ‘I’ve been planning her for some time. She really helps me down here, fetching and carrying, cleaning, working on the time machines; she’s proving to be very useful, and in time I’ll bring her into the Hall. She can even bake a Lemon Meringue that would rival Maria’s, not that I’d ever let Maria know that.’

  ‘You’d better not let Maria know about her full stop,’ Becky added. ‘She’d kill you. I mean really, literally, actually kill you.’

  Uncle Percy shuffled uncomfortably. ‘That would be her first thought, yes. However, Maria’s part of the reason I’ve built her in the first place: whether she likes it or not, both she and Jacob are getting older. We all are. And, in due course, Barbie will be an asset around the Hall with the more manual jobs, the jobs Maria may not be physically capable of doing. I think Maria will be fine with it in a couple of -’

  ‘ - Decades,’ Joe interrupted.

  ‘I was about to say days.’

  Becky looked unconvinced. Just then, Barbie reappeared carrying a tray of drinks, which she promptly placed on the table.

  ‘So can she do any cool stuff?’ Joe asked.

  Uncle Percy grinned. ‘Cool stuff? Isn’t it cool that she responds and interacts independently, that there is cognitive reasoning. She isn’t just one of Emerson Drake’s Cyrobots, you know. Barbie is perhaps the first true example in the world of Strong Artificial Intelligence. She can plan, learn, problem solve and she’s self-aware. In a nutshell, Barbie is very cool indeed.’

  Joe shrugged. ‘That sounds great, but can she turn herself into a car like a Transformer?’

  Uncle Percy looked baffled. ‘Why would she want to turn herself into a car? That sounds rather silly. However, although she may not be able to do that, she can do plenty of other ‘cool’ stuff, can’t you, Barbie?’

  ‘I hope so, sir,’ Barbie replied.

  Uncle Percy gestured towards the gigantic chandelier above them. ‘Barbie, I do believe there’s a cobweb on the far side of the chandelier. Would you get rid of it for me, please?’

  ‘Certainly, sir,’ Barbie said, as a bright blue feather duster shot from her index finger.

  Suddenly, Becky heard a soft drone and, without warning, the little robot powered upward, flying through the air like a rocket, circling the chandelier twice before stopping, giving it a quick polish and soaring back, landing at precisely the same spot she had stood before. ‘The web has been removed, sir.’

  ‘Thank you, Barbie.’

  ‘Knock me down with a Bison’s hump!’ Bruce exclaimed.

  ‘She can fly?’ Joe gasped.

  ‘She can do more than fly, Joe,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Barbie, I believe I left a cup of tea in my chemistry lab on Floor minus 2 at 9.30am. Would you be so kind as to get it for me, please?’

  Just then, an electrical charge engulfed Barbie and - pop - she vanished. Becky didn’t even have time to process this when Barbie reappeared, clutching a cup of tea, thin slivers of steam coiling from its surface. She passed it to Uncle Percy. ‘Just as you left it, sir.’

  ‘Thank you, Barbie.’

  ‘S-she’s a time machine?’ Becky stammered.

  ‘She’s many things, Becky. She has knowledge beyond human comprehension, she can speak every recorded language, she knows every mathematical equation, she can lift up to four tonnes in weight, she never tires, never complains. And she’s charming company.’

  Barbie curtseyed. ‘Thank
you, sir. I do hope Master Joe thinks I’m cool enough for him now.’

  Joe nodded. ‘Barbie, you own cool.’

  ‘You sure are somethin’ else, Percy,’ Bruce said. ‘If only the world knew what a doggone brainbox you were, you’d win that Nobel Prize every year.’

  Uncle Percy chuckled. ‘I like things just the way they are, thank you, Bruce. Anyway, shall we take a pew and you can tell me what’s up?’ He sat down and poured a round of drinks.

  Becky settled into her seat and watched Bruce’s expression turn solemn as he pulled out a small brown leather pouch, tied at the top by a length of twine. Hesitantly, he emptied it and two gold coins rolled on to the tabletop.

  ‘I heard about your experiences with the Golden Fleece,’ Bruce said in a low voice. ‘Well, I believe you might have another problem. Heck, the entire world might have a problem.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Uncle Percy said.

  ‘Pick one up,’ Bruce insisted.

  Hesitantly, Uncle Percy leaned over and his fingers curled round the coin closest to him. The instant flesh touched metal, his face changed; his eyes blazed with fury, his body tensed, filled with a sudden, blistering rage.

  Becky couldn’t believe it. ‘Uncle Percy …Drop it!’ she cried, seizing his hand and forcing it open. The coin clattered to the table. Terrified, she stared at him to see his usual colour return; all trace of his shocking metamorphosis had gone.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Uncle Percy exhaled, slightly disorientated as though waking from a bad dream. ‘This is bad! This is very bad …’

  - Chapter 8 -

  The Box of Eternity

  Bruce looped off his neckerchief, draped his hand in the material until no trace of skin was visible, and picked up the coins, sliding them back in the pouch. Then his eyes met each one of theirs in turn.

  ‘That rage you just felt …’ He nodded at Uncle Percy. ‘You don’t have to be in contact with the coins either for it to take over you. If I’d left them out long enough, we wudda all been affected. Those coins … they radiate evil, sure as my Momma’s cornbread was as tough as snakeskin boots.’