Future Tense

by Frank Almond

“Hurry up with that coat, you pair!” yelled Jemmons.

  Emma gave me one last push and bounded back with the fur. I chased after her, throwing snow at her back.

  Jemmons directed me to take the Duck’s legs and we lifted him out and laid him on the coat, which Emma and the Princess had spread out on the snow.

  Another ground-shaking explosion erupted in the Castle and we all threw ourselves down and covered our heads with our hands.

  “That was close,” I said.

  “Look!” said Emma, pointing to the turret we had been standing on just a few minutes earlier. It had grown into a pillar of flames and thick black toxic smoke.

  “It’s time we shoved off—tempus fugit,” said Jemmons, offering me a hand up. He pulled me up a little too strongly and I barged into him. He stood me up straight and brushed me down. “Sorry, matey,” he beamed.

  “You don’t know your own strength,” I said. “What about the Duck?”

  The Princess had put his arms in the coat and was just doing it up. The Duck looked like a big baby having his nappy changed, lying there on the snow, especially when the Princess sat him up and gave him a cuddle against her breast. She was just trying to warm him up I guess.

  “How are we going to get him down?” I said.

  “I can use the straps from his board to strap him to my back, Stephen.”

  “Can you manage that?”

  “Oh, I think so,” she said. “Do you still have the key?” she added, in a whisper.

  “Yeah, it’s in my—very clever, Princess,” I smiled.

  “The old one’s are the best,” she grinned. “Give it to me.”

  “I think I’ll just hang onto it till we reach the bottom,” I said.

  “You do not trust me, my love?”

  “You can trust me this time,” I said, patting her on the head.

  I moved away from her and looked down the hillside—it seemed steeper now that we were actually on it, than it had looked from the top of the wall. I trudged over and picked up my board and Emma’s.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” said Emma.

  “Of course you can—it’s easy,” I said. “All you have to do is strap your feet on the board and—”

  “—I’m just going to sit on and hold onto the straps like a rein,” said Jemmons.

  “Yes,” said Emma. “I think that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Please yourselves,” I said.

  I started strapping my feet on my board. I’d done a bit of skateboarding and package holiday skiing in my time, so I was fairly confident I could make it. Once I had mine on securely I slid down to the Princess to see if she needed a hand. But she had it sussed. Emma and Jemmons were still trying to figure out a comfortable way of sitting on theirs.

  “Need any help?” I said.

  She hoisted the Duck onto her shoulders in a fireman’s lift. “Just give me that strap—I will tie him to me so that he doesn’t slip,” she said.

  I passed her one of the straps that she had already stripped from the Duck’s board and she wound it round the Duck’s wrists. As I was standing there, waiting to go, I felt in my left pocket for the glass key. It wasn’t there. I thought I’d just forgotten which pocket I’d put it in. I dug into my right pocket—the key was gone!

  “Are we all set?” said the Princess.

  Jemmons and Emma both waved.

  “Wait a minute,” I said to her, out of the corner of my mouth.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Have you lost something?” she said.

  I looked at her sharply. “Did you take it?”

  She shook her head. “You placed it in your right pocket, Stephen.”

  “You saw me do that?”

  “I see everything you do, Stephen—I can’t take my eyes off you, darling.”

  “I must have dropped it—I’ll retrace my steps—”

  “—No—don’t worry, Jemmons has it,” she said.

  “Roger? But?” I looked across at Jemmons. He was sitting next to Emma, talking to her, and steadying her board for her. Butter wouldn’t melt. “Are you sure?”

  “When he helped you up—he brushed you down—that’s when he took it,” she nodded.

  “But why? Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know,” said the Princess. “We’d better keep an eye on him—he might be working for Corrective Measures.”

  “Are you playing mind games with me, Princess?”

  “I only lie when I have to,” she said.

  “That’s all right then,” I laughed.

  “Are we going down this bloody mountain or what?” shouted Emma.

  “After you, Ms Gummer,” said the Princess.

  “Come on, Roger—let’s show them,” said Emma.

  Emma and Jemmons set off together at a sedate speed, slowing themselves down with their feet as they went.

  “Be careful, Em!” I said.

  I turned the nose of my board downhill and took off. The Princess was right alongside me in a flash. We shot past Emma and Jemmons and I had to begin zigzagging to slow myself down a bit. But the Princess kept up her speed, whizzed straight past me, and was soon a tiny blob in the blankness. I traversed to a slower section of the slope and looked back over my shoulder. Emma and Jemmons were way back and behind them rose the raging inferno of the Castle, belching out clouds of dense black smoke and sheets of flame.

  As I picked up speed again, the wind became keener—and made me want to slow up. It flapped the sleeves and bottoms of my biggles and chilled me to the bone, but I was enjoying myself. It had been years since I’d been on a board and I was loving the sensation of effortless motion, controlled by the merest movement of my body. I even took on a few mounds and did some stunt stuff. But I was always slowing right down and looking back to check where Emma and Jemmons were. I saw Emma fall off once and waited to see her get safely back on her board again. Jemmons waited for her, too. He was taking good care of her. Good old Roger, I thought. I looked down the hillside—there was no sign of the Princess! How could I have been so stupid? It suddenly hit me—I’d been suckered! She had taken the key and thrown me off the scent by casting suspicion on Jemmons. I had taken my eye off the ball—I had my eye on the wrong ball—I should have been watching the Princess! I pushed off and shot after her, getting myself into my trademark skateboard crouch—the jetscreamer, as I used to call it. It consisted of one arm forward, one arm back, chin jutting, knees bent as low as they could go. I was really motoring down that hillside. The board was cutting the snow with a satisfying swishing noise as I travelled over it. And then, suddenly, the snow ran out, just vanished from under me, and I was sailing out and out into nothing but air. I looked down. I had just run right off a cliff.

  Chapter 18

  Many things go through your mind when you’re about thirty or forty feet up in the air on a piece of wood no bigger than an ironing-board, and you don’t know what’s below. Your instinct is to bail. But I managed to keep my body shape in the classic Telemark stance and landed that board on a lower slope, with little more than a light jolt and the briefest of wobbles.

  “Yes!” I exclaimed, punching the air.

  It was the second precipice that did for me. The one I shot straight off moments after celebrating my perfect landing off the first one. Although I lost my balance and fell off, the height of the cliff was nowhere near as high as the first one and I only hurt my pride.

  I picked myself up, stamped both feet, and knew I had been very lucky I hadn’t broken any bones.

  I could see the flat white mantle of ice spreading out all around me, and realized I was only a few yards from the foot of the knoll. I looked round to see where Emma and Jemmons were, but, of course, the two bluffs I had just come over obscured my view of the upper slopes—I couldn’t even see the Castle, only smoke. I remembered my makeshift wheels and quickly fitted them on my board in the four slots. Then I walked down to the “shore” of the ice an
d pushed off. And did I shift! I only had to do a couple of good push-offs and I was up to maximum speed and running over that ice like a bowling ball. I headed round the little headland to my left, made by the lower bluff. And found the Princess and the Duck standing on the slope. The Duck looked a bit shaken. The Princess was supporting him.

  “Hey!” I called.

  I skidded in and bailed, running up the slope to them to stop myself.

  “Stephen!” cried the Princess. “You have the key?”

  “Er, no. I thought you had it.”

  “You see what I have to put up with?” said the Duck. “I told you he’d muck it up—he’s a bloody idiot!”

  “Normal service has been resumed I see.”

  “Stephen, why didn’t you stay with Jemmons? I told you he had the key,” said the Princess.

  “I thought—well, what I thought was—it might be a double bluff.”

  “What’re you on about—a double bluff?” quacked the Duck. “You’ve only left Emma up there with a bloody psychopath!”

  “What?” I exclaimed.

  “Jemmons has got the key—he’s Corrective Measures! They’ve turned him!”

  “Nobody tells me anything!”

  “Where’re you going?”

  “Where do you think?”

  I picked up my board and was about to set off in the direction from which I had just come.

  “Wait!” cried the Princess. “I will go with you!”

  “No!” said the Duck.

  “You want me to stay, Sir Julian?” said the Princess.

  “No. What I meant was: why don’t you go the other way?” he pointed vaguely in the other direction. “Round there—they might come down that way.”

  “I could go that way,” I said.

  “No!” said the Duck, looking annoyed. “You go that way—stick to the way we decided—you’re always chopping and changing your mind! You’re so indecisive.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Don’t argue!”

  “I’ll go this way,” smiled the Princess. She ran off along the “shore” in the other direction.

  “What the hell was all that about?” I said.

  “Shh!” said the Duck. “Just go round there.”

  “Why? What’re you playing at?”

  “I’ve got the bloody key,” said the Duck. “They’ll be coming down round there—we’ve got to get away from her.”

  “Who?”

  “Who? The Princess!”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  He grabbed me by the front of my biggles. “Just do as you’re told and leave everything to me. I’ll explain later,” he said, waving me away.

  “Is Jemmons a murdering traitor or not?” I said.

  “No—I only said that for her benefit—now get going, we haven’t got much time—she’ll twig in a minute. She’s not bloody stupid—like some I could mention!”

  “Up yours, Duckworth!”

  I skated off towards the spur of land and quickly rounded it. To my delight and surprise, Jemmons and Emma were waiting for me just around the corner.

  “Emma! Rog!”

  “Get in here, Stevie!” said Jemmons.

  I skated straight at them and bailed, falling into their arms.

  “What going on? Everyone seems to know except—”

  “Shh!” said Emma. “Can you hear anything, Roger?”

  Jemmons listened intently and shook his head, while reaching inside my biggles.

  “What’re you doing?”

  He pulled out the sparkling cranberry glass key like a magician.

  “But?”

  “Our Princess can read minds, matey,” said Jemmons. “The Duck’s trying to distract her—but we’re not sure what her range is.”

  “I had the key all the time?” I said.

  “No, I had the key,” said Emma. “The Duck gave it to me on the wall.”

  “But I found it.”

  “I let you find it,” corrected Emma.

  “And then I picked your pocket and gave it back to the Duck,” said Jemmons.

  “But the Duck was unconscious.”

  “Playacting,” said Jemmons.

  “So, how did I end up with it?”

  “Oh, Stephen, you are so dense,” said Emma.

  “You mean the Duck planted it back on me?”

  “Now,” said Jemmons. “Stand back. I’m not sure how this thing works.”

  Emma pulled me aside and I took the opportunity to kiss her cheek. She ruffled my hair.

  Jemmons held the key aloft like the Statue of Liberty’s torch. Nothing happened.

  “What’s it supposed to do?” I said.

  “I reckon it’s some sort of tracking device,” said Jemmons. “A vibration or sound wave thingy.”

  “Or mind waves,” I said. “Give it to me.”

  Jemmons handed it over. I put it to my forehead.

  “What are you doing?” said Emma.

  “I’m thinking about the Princess,” I muttered.

  “This is not the time to be indulging your erotic fantasies,” said Emma.

  “It’s a mind device,” I said. “Shh—I’m getting something!”

  “Saints preserve us! Look out there!” exclaimed Jemmons.

  “What? Where?” I said.

  “It’s gone again,” said Jemmons. “There was a blue light flashing way out there on the ice, when you were doing your mind thingy.”

  “Did you see anything, Em?”

  “No—do it again.”

  I pressed the glass cone to my forehead and repeated the trick.

  “There ’tis! D’you see it, Emma?”

  “Oh, yes! Yes! I see it!”

  “Where?” I said.

  “It’s gone again,” said Jemmons.

  “Yes, it stops every time I stop thinking about her,” I said. “That is the Princess’ time machine—it’s way out there on the ice somewhere.”

  “Very clever, Stephen!” said the Princess.

  We all swung round to our right and looked up on the little headland. She was standing over the Duck, who was trussed up and kneeling on a snowboard at her feet. She gave the board a gentle kick with her foot and sent the Duck sliding down the slope towards us.

  “Aaagh!” cried the Duck.

  Jemmons rushed to catch him just as he reached the bottom and toppled over on his side. The Princess bounded down and was face to face with me in a matter of seconds.

  “I’ll take that, darling,” she smiled. She plucked the glass key from my hand. And gestured the others over with a crooked finger. Jemmons finished untying the Duck and they came and joined us. “Now, here we all are, together again.”

  “Yes,” I smiled. “All my wedding guests are assembled.”

  “You are funny, darling,” said the Princess, indulgently.

  “I don’t think we’re part of her plans, mate,” said the Duck, rubbing his wrists where the straps had burnt his skin.

  “All that switching the key round, Sir Julian—you made me feel quite dizzy,” said the Princess. “And now, I’m afraid, I must say au revoir. I’m sure those nice policemen will be along any minute to pick you up and put you back in their nice warm prison.” She gazed up at the Castle. “Even warmer now.”

  “Didn’t I mean anything to you?” I said.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean you, darling—you’re coming with me. We have new worlds to discover—and populate—but not this planet, I think—it’s not my type.”

  “You prefer wet ones,” said the Duck.

  “Touché, Sir Julian—I shall truly miss that devious little mind of yours—my, my, what fun we have had—you ran me a close race. But we must not forget what you are—a loser.”

  “Don’t leave us here, Your Highness,” pleaded the Duck. “At least drop us off somewhere a bit safer—give us a sporting chance. Hey?”

  She tilted her head on one side and blinked at him. “Oh, but, Sir Julian, you know how these things work—the winner takes all, the los
er has to fall,” she said with mock sadness. “Where is the fun in victory if the vanquished live to fight another day?”

  “I had to ask,” said the Duck. “Not for myself, you understand—I was thinking of the others.”

  “Of course you were. And now, Stephen, you will show me how this—this skateboard, as I think you call it, works and we will slide off into this icescape and consummate our everlasting love. Over and over and over again.”

  I swallowed hard.

  The Duck kicked my foot. “Stall her!” he said, out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Um? I’ve changed my mind,” I said. “I don’t want to marry you now.”

  Something wet and slimy lashed me across the face. It was so fast—none of the others even saw what happened.

  “You promised to marry this creature?” exclaimed Emma.

  “Well, no—that is, the Duck said—”

  I felt another stinging slap across my face.

  “Get on that board!” hissed the Princess.

  “Did anyone see that? She—”

  “You have sunk to some pretty low levels, Sloane,” said Emma. “But this one really takes the limbo prize—even for you!”

  “We are wasting time!” The Princess picked me up and stood me on the skateboard. And then stepped on behind me and threw her arms around my neck. “Go—out there! To that beacon!” She pointed to the flashing cranberry coloured light far out on the ice sheet.

  “It won’t work between us,” I said. “I’m, um, impotent.”

  “Is that true?” said Emma.

  “No—it is not,” said the Princess. “I have given him a thorough, seventy-two-hour medical examination—to make sure he is fit to mate with me—and he passed with flying colours—he has a sperm count the size of—”

  “—A small galaxy—yeah, I know,” I said, “but they’re not all top drawer, Your Highness, some are a little mean, in a cool, streetwise kind of way. I know the sort of (I cleared my throat) quantities I can offer are pretty impressive, but it’s quality that counts, Your Highness. You can’t be too choosy in your position—you’ve got the royal bloodline to think aboutttt!”

  The Princess gave us an almighty push-off and we shot out across the ice like a marble on plate glass. The wind was rushing past my face so quickly it was peeling my gums back off my teeth. The Princess squeezed me and squealed with delight.