by Claire Davon
The volcano blew apart and Fiona flinched. The blast ripped up through the atmosphere and fiery hell began raining down around the site. The island exploded, the inner rings that had originally been part of the island disappearing. A cloud of debris and fire roared towards Thera. She felt it again, the wrongness, as if something had shifted in time and poked through when it shouldn’t be there.
WATCH AND LEARN.
She’d heard that voice before, in Brookline, but she still didn’t know who or what it was even after she’d spoken with them. It was part of the entity or entities who seemed to control, or understand, time. Fiona knew she had to find out. The Earth depended on her discovering what this was, and stopping it. She felt a stab of terror go through her and tried to catch her breath, knowing she couldn’t allow emotions to overwhelm her. Fiona discovered that here, caught in a time warp, an observer who could see but not be seen, she had no breath to catch.
The volcano’s eruption was every bit as ferocious as the re-enactments had depicted. It shattered the former island of Thera in an instant, sending a pyroclastic cloud out in all directions. Boats on the water were vaporized as the island disintegrated. She saw people die, not just in Thera, but on the nearby islands. Ash began coating the area. The air was deadly, and people’s eyes grew wide as they choked on air no longer suitable to breathe. She knew that the trio who had helped her were among the fallen. It was a small blessing to her that everything was moving so fast she didn’t have to witness death throes.
The Minoan civilization on Crete might have been far enough away to withstand the deadly fumes and ash from the explosion, but they could not outrun the water. The tsunami came fast, rippling out from the caldera of the new island and gathering speed as it dashed towards the surrounding islands. One by one they fell. The beach on Crete was exposed far into the ocean, fish flopping on the exposed sand, before the water rushed back in, skyscraper high, filling the void left by the retreating waves. It crashed into the buildings near the shore and continued inward, destroying everything in its path.
Why? she asked, but the Voice had fallen silent. For a moment it appeared she was going to lurch into the blackness and be carried back to her present. Instead she fast forwarded past the devastation, gathering speed through time. She saw other disasters, other floods. There were volcanos, things that wiped out people and civilizations as easily as snapping a twig. Floods, earthquakes and volcanos seemed to be particular favorites. It made sense. The power they unleashed couldn’t be controlled. They took their fury out on the helpless land until they abated on their own terms.
She saw an earthquake, in a time and place she didn’t know, but appeared to be the Middle East somewhere, in a time frame long ago. She saw a cyclone, huge and menacing, the air swirling in a concentric pattern, causing desolation and horror on a mainland she again didn’t know, but thought was Asia. There was a flood, the river vast and swollen, breaching its banks and flowing far inland, tearing apart houses, buildings and lives as it swept through, pounding the land into submission with its deadly force. Fiona wondered if she was seeing these as they occurred sequentially, or if they were jumbled. She understood that these had happened a long time ago and, like Akrotiri, were for her to study and understand, but not change. She wished she had a photographic memory so remember all of and research them, find out what they were and why they were important. She hated that she had to rely on her own tricky memory. Fiona concentrated, trying to tuck as many details away as she could.
She saw an earthquake roiling the land and the islands it affected looked familiar. Greece, perhaps Crete. There was a tsunami afterwards again, tearing across the islands and wreaking devastation. A volcano erupted and Fiona suspected it was Vesuvius, killing hundreds with its cloud and lava, but preserving them in time. There were disasters as well in areas that were not populated. She saw an earthquake in what looked like Alaska, as well as vast flooding of the Mississippi plain. Then disasters that seemed to be more modern came into view. She saw something odd, what looked like a tornado, but it was on fire, ripping through towns. She thought she saw Krakatoa, if she remembered her history. There was another that looked like a wall of mud destroying an island. Some sort of gas cloud rose from a lake and choked the life out of all the animals, plants and humans around it. Time and again there was destruction, in calamities she didn’t know, things that produced annihilation throughout history. Watch, the Voice had said, and she thought they were showing her the disasters that were caused by the time anomaly and not just by the natural cycles of Earth. Her planet was not quite as benign and friendly as she once thought it was. So many disasters, so much death.
Finally the black started to descend, and Fiona’s heart leaped. Home, she thought. Then her trip into the blackness that signaled a time shift stopped and pulled away, shoving her back into the kaleidoscope of colors abruptly. Fiona blinked. As much as she hated the dark, it was her ticket home. She yearned to go back to her reality, her time, and, of course, Sonder. Instead, she had come to a standstill high above some sort of encampment, looking down from far away. Fiona didn’t know the era, but it seemed like an ancient Middle Eastern city again, bustling with life and surrounded by sand. It appeared to be a thriving metropolis, with various routes into the capital and people on camelback going either direction. There were bright colored caravans laden with goods coming into the city. The populace, tanned or naturally brown, went about their everyday routine, trading and working. The merchants hurrying in and out of this oasis in the middle of the desert were doing a thriving business, judging from their rich robes. Nothing seemed amiss; it looked like a typical day in this desert city. Wind coming off the desert whipped sand around the people and animals. To her surprise, she saw that water was plentiful, an unexpected sight in the middle of this sandy outpost. There were blue pools of it throughout the city, incongruous against the harsh desert outside of the high orange brick, or bricklike, walls. She watched as day progressed, uncertain what she was looking at. It all seemed to be a bit hazy, like she was watching through a lens. She didn’t know why she was here, what she was supposed to be looking for. This wasn’t like the others. Nothing was happening. Fiona sighed, her whole being longing to go home.
The shift was so faint she almost didn’t notice it. Something tweaked in the atmosphere and she sensed a wrongness, a feeling that something had shifted. Then she heard a noise in the distance, just a small rumble that could have been a tiny earthquake or a large cart.
Ubar, she heard, but had no idea what the word meant. She added it to the pile of research she had to do when she got back to her own time. The blackness hovered behind her, like it was waiting to claim her. She didn’t know why she had stopped, and returned to an ancient city. As she watched the ground split and opened up. Men, women, carts and animals were swallowed up by the giant sinkhole that appeared, pulling people and buildings down into the darkness. She couldn’t hear the screams but knew that man and beasts alike were screaming – she would be, if she were down there. The sand and scrubby dirt parted and disappeared, yanking everything down into the black underbelly of the Earth, where nothing lived but death. One moment there had been a thriving city, the next there was a hole and things sliding down and into it. It was terrifying even from a distance, watching as everything shifted and fell when the earth vanished. It reminded Fiona of the large sinkholes she saw once in a while on the news, in Florida and other waterlogged cities.
This city had been a fortress style, an octagonal shape of brick walls with giant towers on the irregular corners. Outside was desert and sand, broken by sketchy trails. Inside was the seeming picture of a thriving community, until now. Now the fortifications and walls collapsed, one at a time, as if they suddenly got tired and decided to lie down. The roads, which until that moment had been wide and easy to use, ended, cut off as if there had never been a city at all.
Fiona watched until the movement of the earth slowed, although by no means stopped. Sand and rubble lay thick ove
r the space where a habituated place had once been. The giant hole in the middle, still pulling the remains of buildings towards it, was huge and menacing, like a living creature.
Another mystery to investigate. Ubar. Fiona committed the name to memory. She looked at the still vanishing city. The tops of the towers were still visible, although nothing living still moved. It reminded her a bit of the Event, the vast piles of sand and broken buildings, and desolation all the way to the horizon. She wondered what became of the caravans heading in or out, what the tales would tell of this vanished city. It was alarmingly easy for manmade objects to vanish, she thought, to be swallowed up by a hole and be gone in moments. There was still much to learn.
Why, she asked again, but to herself. She didn’t understand what the reason for the odd time shift was and why it destroyed things. Part of her expected the Voice to boom through her again, but there was no echo. It seemed the Voice had fallen silent, letting her absorb the disasters it was showing her without commentary. Fiona didn’t think explanation would have helped, but it would have made it easier to place the events in her concept of historical time.
She started forward again, the mysterious city of Ubar fading from her sight. As the familiar black signaling travel through time descended, she was almost glad she got no answer.
#
“Fiona! Kale mou!”
Their familiar hotel room was a welcome sight to Fiona’s black weakened eyes, but it was so bright. Her body felt boneless, and gravity was novel, like she’d been out in space for too long and had to learn how to stand upright again. Brightly colored carpet rose up to meet her as she went limp, her body slapping against the rug a second before her head followed.
Somehow they, the Voice, had propelled her back into their rooms, more or less in the appropriate time, since a worried looking Sonder was there. The room was the living room of their rented house, with its sparse and welcome furnishings. Standing in the middle of the room, but quickly closing the distance, was one worried looking lover. Sun streamed into the large paned windows, the angle of it letting Fiona know it was midday. She didn’t know which day, but it didn’t really matter. She was home.
“Fiona!” he said again, alarm and anxiety in his tone. He was by her side in an instant. Crouching, he studied her, putting a hand against her forehead.
“I…” she croaked, and continued to lie on floor. The thick pile of the carpet felt good against her cheek. She’d noticed a wear pattern in the rug when they’d moved in and was very happy to see it now. It reassured her that she was back, where she belonged. It told her she wasn’t in some other dimension, or some other world with a fake Sonder, planted there by the Voice. Fiona knew that it was a crazy thought, but that’s what happened when you were yanked seven thousand years in two directions through time, all within the span of…
“What day is it?” She felt Sonder’s hand under her neck and his other arm slid across her back.
“Can you stand? Do you want a doctor?” His voice was pitched high, his agitation evident.
There was no mistaking the warmth and relief in his voice, the pleasure at having her back. She had learned over the past months to rely on his actions, not flowery phrases. When it came to romance, he was a man of few words, but he was always there when it counted.
“What day is it?” she asked again, accepting his hand as she eased to her butt in a sitting position.
“It’s two days later.” He didn’t define it, but she more than understood his reference. “You put your hand on the fresco, and vanished. It was as if you were sucked into it. You were gone so fast that nobody else noticed. One moment you were there and the next… It was terrifying.” This from a man who had spent years going in and out of disasters, either making sure the timeline was kept intact, or recruiting more Guardians. “I’ve been going crazy trying to find you, but you were nowhere in the stream. Where were you? When were you?”
“I…” When did the room start spinning? Fiona blinked until the room settled into calm waves, and stopped moving. “Whoa.” She reached her arm out and Sonder took it, helping her to her feet.
“Darling, you need to lay down.”
“Two days?” she asked. “I thought they would have done better than that. I thought they’d insert me back right after I left.” The Voice had limitations, she decided, or had miscalculated. Or maybe it had been the second disaster she had witnessed from afar. Maybe that had been an unscheduled stop.
It could be as simple as the fact that time was a construct of humanity, and did not apply to the ones who had flung her to ancient Akrotiri and Ubar. The thought made her shudder.
His eyes narrowed and she saw that his body tensed. He looked like he wanted to lash out, not at her, but at something. At times like this in the past he would go out for a run, charging up and down the wide steps of Santorini’s main path with determination. He had insisted that both of them maintain a fitness routine, over her protests. Fiona had railed against it and often not gone when he had, but even the halfhearted attempts she’d made helped now. She was grateful for the workouts. Things had to change and she was going to need to be at her best to deal with them.
She could tell he was dying to ask questions and it was his softer feelings that prevented him from launching into an interrogation. Fiona wasn’t the only one who had been scared. That her powerful man had been frightened soothed her nerves somehow.
Without asking, he swung her into his arms, pressing her head against his chest and holding her legs across his body.
“Bed. Now.”
He didn’t carry her up to the gauze covered king sized bed, but lay her on the closer divan on the ground floor of their two story loft apartment. Sonder eased her down and smoothed his hands over her body. He was clearly checking for marks or bruises, that she was unbroken, and restored to him.
“I was frantic.”
She saw his old Guardian equipment still in the corner of the room, but piled there as if thrown. It wasn’t beeping, or flashing, but he might have used it. Fiona replayed their initial dialogue and decided the answer to that was yes. She tried to form the question to verbalize out loud, but it would keep. After all, there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. There was so much to say, so much to figure out, so many questions and none of them involved the dueling time travel groups. She didn’t see any Guardians or Liberators on their doorstep and that would have to do. There would be time later.
He saw her gaze, followed it, and nodded. “I looked. I timed it so that they wouldn’t be able to get a fix on me, but I had to try and find you. I searched everywhere but I couldn’t find you. It was like you had left the Earth. There was no trace of you. You vanished like you never existed.” He let out a breath. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I’m here,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. It was warm, the skin and small hairs familiar and comforting. “I’m back. I went to Akrotiri, but in ancient times. Way back, before the volcano exploded. Back, so far back. They said…”
“Before?” It was a statement, a sentence, and a question. “Fiona, that was…”
“Thirty five hundred years ago.” She grimaced. “Or so. You’re the one who has been studying history.” He spent as much time online as their tricky connection was possible on this island, when they weren’t exploring or travelling to other islands. He had told her that he had had rekindled his interest in history when he turned into a Guardian, but then they mostly did as they were told, without understanding the why behind the where and when. Now he seemed to drink it in, spending time each day adding to his store of knowledge. Once again she berated herself for her inattention. She should have spent this block of leisure time preparing for what was going to happen next. Her lack of knowledge was something she was going to have to remedy. Until then, there was Sonder. Thank god for him.
He shook his head. “Thirty-five hundred years, more or less. That’s not possible. None of us can travel that far. We can only go to the bases with our equipm
ent. You’ve seen it for yourself. Not even you can make that kind of shift.”
She nodded, but thought of the bases. She had never considered the logistical impossibility of getting to either until now. Both bases were a million years in either direction of time and should have been impossible. The Guardian base was a million years in the past, and the matching Liberator one a similar amount of time in the future. The only way to get there was through their belts, the technology that got them there was a mystery. If that was possible there may be many other things that could be done, if they could figure out the technology. Fiona tried to puzzle it through, but the memory of the three unknown people, the volcano, and then Ubar, still danced in her head. She had to learn something from all of it. The voice still boomed in her mind, a warning and a promise. Learning whatever the lesson was appeared to be as important as her abilities were. She needed to find out how she had been granted these powers, and whether she had been born with them or had them given to her by the Voice or another entity. If the person or entities behind the Voice were time travelers too, it didn’t make sense that there would be such a thing as waiting. Or time. It seemed as if the Voice should have been able to fix “it”, whatever “it” was. It seemed as if they should have plucked her out of the time stream before the streetcar accident, if all that needed to happen was for her to awake to her abilities.
Fiona’s mind spun, and she focused on Sonder’s last words. “I’ve been told that, and I know that you can’t go more than a hundred years away from your original time without fading. How can we go to the bases, then? I did go to ancient Akrotiri, Sonder. I’m the Traveler, remember? That’s what everyone says. I guess the rules don’t apply to me. I had help. Maybe with help it’s possible. How else can you get to the bases without fading into nonexistence?”
