The Time Portal 4: The Inquisition

by Joe Corso

  “Princess,” the doctor said, “let us go to the room the Queen has prepared.”

  The entire room emptied, including Lucky, as they made their way just down the hallway from Lucky’s room to another sparsely decorated room with a small window. Through the window came a tiny streak of sunlight, just enough to faintly light the chamber in the early dawn.

  “Sire,” one of the maidens said to Lucky, “I’m afraid that you must leave now.”

  Lucky wasn’t accustomed to this. In his time, in modern time, men were allowed to participate in this exciting event, this joyful time, and be present to support their dear spouses as they endured the trials and tribulations of childbirth. The Queen escorted Lucky to the door and smiled at him.

  “Look,” Lucky said to the Queen, “I am right here outside the door should you need me. “Call me immediately should she require me. Don’t wait, just call me. Do you understand?”

  Lucky was so firm with his words that Queen Alexandra was a bit alarmed. She wasn’t accustomed to being spoken to in that tone of voice by Lucky, by anyone, really, but she could easily forgive him. This was a big event in his life, in anyone’s life. Lucky’s grasp around the Queen’s wrist was firm and . . . tight. She nodded her head, assured Lucky that she would take care of the Princess, and gently tried to release her hand from his grip. He realized his mistake.

  “Oh, your forgiveness, I ask, Your Highness. My concern is for Krystina and the child.”

  The Queen smiled once again and closed the door. Lucky heard the click from the other side. Hours passed. Only once had someone left and returned to the room. That had been about three hours ago when a maiden left apparently to speak to the King. Lucky pleaded with her to tell him what was going on, but her lips would utter nothing. From the outside of Krystina’s room where Lucky sat, he could hear scurrying around the room and much chatter. Meanwhile the Princess’s sounds of discomfort grew louder and louder and slowly evolved into screaming crescendos, cries for help.

  Inside the room, the Queen looked at the doctor and beckoned him to the corner of the room. “Wise medicine man,” she began, “the child. We have been here for one full revolution of the moon. As a woman, I know that something is amiss. What words have you?”

  The doctor’s face was evident with concern. “The child is not appearing. I fear that the child has turned and the child’s feet are fighting to appear first. It is not good, dear Queen. It is not good. The mother may be in peril of her life. “

  “Dear God,” the Queen gasped. “What shall we do?”

  “I will use my powers and ointments in the hopes that the child will turn,” the doctor said, “but there is no guarantee.”

  Lucky, still nestled against the outside of the door, heard every word of their conversation. In seconds, he left his chair outside the Princess’s chamber and appeared suddenly, without warning, inside Jack Kinsey’s office at the CIA compound. Kinsey almost jumped out of his seat.

  “Christ, Lucky. You have to stop doing that. One of these days you’re gonna kill me.” Jack removed the handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his forehead. “What the hell’s going on?” he asked.

  “Jack, I need you to call a medical team together. The Princess is having a baby and I think she’s having a problem. I don’t care what they’re doing right now, just get a team here. I’m going to bring her here. How much time do you need?”

  Jack picked up the phone and hit an extension. “Yes, this is Director Kinsey and I want to speak to a doctor immediately.”

  Lucky listened as Jack explained to the doctor what he needed.

  “Fine, that will do. We’ll see you then.”

  He turned to Lucky. “Go and get your lady. The team will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  “Thanks, Jack,” and Lucky was gone.

  Lucky materialized inside the Princess’s bedroom. Instantly, he confirmed that something was terribly wrong.

  “What is it?” he asked the Queen who looked up to see Lucky standing over her. How silly of her to lock the door, she thought. After all, he is the great wizard who walks through anything. She answered him tearfully.

  “The baby desires to arrive with the feet first. The child may die. Krystina may die. ”

  “No, she won’t,” Lucky said as he rushed to the side of her bed where he swept the Princess into his arms and was gone in a flash. The room stood still. Shocked faces scanned the room, looking at the ceiling, and then to each other, as if pleading for an explanation. None had witnessed this gift the great wizard possessed. There was a deafening silence.

  Jack Kinsey was already in the operating room with the doctors. The chief physician asked, “When can we expect her?”

  “Anytime now.”

  Lucky materialized at that precise moment. The team of doctors was speechless.

  “Look,” Kinsey said to them, “it is far too much to explain now. Just take care of this woman and pretend that you didn’t see what you did. Each of you will be asked to sign a top secret, non-disclosure, confidentiality agreement when this is over. Save her life. Save the baby and just get on with it. Understood?”

  The men and women around the room each nodded. Lucky placed the princess gently onto the bed. Lucky stayed by her side as she grasped his hand. Softly, he spoke into her ear until the anesthesia had its effect and Krystina was asleep. Two hours later, Lucky was holding his son – a healthy baby boy, now screaming his eyes out – a good thing – announcing to the world his presence. Dr. Grossman had done it again.

  There was another prior occasion, where the Princess had been gravely ill. That was precisely when Lucky had fallen in love with her. Dr. Grossman, at the time, did not believe Lucky’s explanation that Krystina was a woman from another era, the twelth century, even though the Princess was adorned in odd clothing. Lucky needed for Grossman to keep Krystina sedated so that he could return her to her own time, and not risk the shock of her awakening in a strange time with strange people tending her. Lucky was forced to take the doctor on a quick trip to medieval England in order to make the him a believer of his time travels. The doctor asked no further questions and readily agreed.

  Dr. Grossman smiled as he approached Lucky. “How does it feel Lucky? You are the father of a healthy, seven pound, eight ounce baby boy.”

  Lucky held his son. He stood quietly, holding his son as he gazed into his eyes, not wanting to release him, completely ignoring Grossman.

  “The baby was breech,” the doctor said, “and the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. He would never have made it through the birth channel. Both she and the baby were at great risk. You made a good decision and it looks like, according to all vitals, that mother and child are fine.”

  “She won’t need to be sedated this time,” Lucky said. “I’ve introduced her to some great countries and places around the world. This should not be a shock to her.” Lucky looked at his son and back up at the doctor. “I won’t forget what you did. You saved her. You saved him. If you ever need a thing, tell Jack Kinsey. He’ll find me.”

  “You bet,” Grossman replied as he started for the door. “I’ll let you know when you can take her home. For now, she has endured a big surgery. Her body needs rest. C-sections are not minor. Let her recover here so we can monitor her for bleeding or infection.”

  “Tell you what,” Lucky said with a smirk, “can you break away from here for a week if I approve it with Jack Kinsey?”

  “Well, I guess. I’d have to call my wife first, clear it with her.”

  “Look, tell her that you need a week for a little something medically related – work – and that when you get back, you’re going to take her to a dude ranch in Australia on a private jet, all expenses paid. And she can stay as long as she likes,” he continued. “How does that sound?”

  “That sounds great,” the doctor answered. “A private jet you say?’

  “Yes, my plane. When you arrive in Australia, you’ll stay with a friend of mine – a guy named Charlie
Hodge. Runs a dude ranch in the Australian Outback.”

  “Sounds better by the second,” Grossman replied.

  “And,” Lucky continued, “you’ll meet the lost Princess of Russia – the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna. The little girl known as Anastasia. Charlie and I saved her from being killed by the mob that murdered her family. We didn’t get there in time to save the rest of the family, but we managed to save her. She’s a delightful young lady who’s not ready to return to Russia. She likes Charlie and she likes staying at his ranch, so we decided it best for all of us if she stayed with him for a while. She’s the real deal. It’ll be a vacation your wife will never forget. Anastasia will take her shopping and the two of them, Charlie and Anastasia, will see to it that you have a great time. Okay, back to business. Please prepare the Princess for her trip home and get your medical bag and take anything you need to monitor her – plenty of antibiotics and anything else that you think she might need. Have enough for a week. You’re going to earn that flight to Australia.”

  Lucky pushed the hair away from Krystina’s face. She was asleep again and she looked exhausted. He called Jack on the intercom and briefed him on his plan to take the Princess home. He told Jack he was taking Dr. Grossman with him for at least seven days.

  “Clear it for me, Jack, and we’ll be back in a week. Oh and Jack, when we get back, I promised Grossman a real vacation, so I’d appreciate it if you would make that happen, too.”

  “You got it, Lucky,” Jack said. “I’ll handle it. Always do. He can have his vacation for however long he wants it, as long as you say so.”

  “Thanks a million Jack. One of these days I’ll take you with me on a little getaway.”

  “Thanks for the offer, Lucky, but no thanks. Someone’s gotta run this place.”

  “Well, all right,” Lucky said, “but the offer is always good. Should you ever change your mind, just let me know.”

  “Thanks, Lucky. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Lucky knew Jack would never come with him on a vacation. As good of a trusted friend as Jack had become, Jack was afraid Lucky might take him someplace where they’d get stuck. It was a risk he was not willing to take. Lucky would never do that intentionally, but Jack wasn’t taking any chances. No, he would remain safely ensconced as Chief of the Compound.

  Lucky looked at Grossman as he put his cell phone back into his pocket.

  “Things okay with the wife?” he asked.

  “Yeah. She was a little peeved at first about me being gone for a week, but when I told her about this elaborate trip, in a private jet, she cooed like a pigeon.”

  “You know, you could spend a few days in Europe or maybe the French or Italian Rivieras. Or you can just come home afterwards. If so, just let my pilot, Bobby know. I’ll instruct him to take you wherever you like. I’ll straighten it out with him later. My treat.”

  “Damn, Lucky, this is like having your own magic carpet. It sounds great. I can’t wait.”

  Lucky picked up the princess as Dr. Grossman held the baby. Lucky told Grossman to hold onto his arm. “And don’t let go until I tell you to.”

  They stepped into the portal and landed inside Princess Krystina’s room, startling the Queen who was busy fussing with a blanket, tucking it into the baby’s crib. Lucky held Krystina close as he walked to the bed and gently placed her onto it. He covered her with the blanket, looked at Grossman, and nodded in the direction of the crib that the Queen had prepared. Lucky approached the Queen and introduced her to Dr. Grossman. Lucky watched his face as it took a few moments unless a little light went off and he realized that he was in the presence of the Queen of England. Taken a bit by her beauty, he craned his head and whispered to Lucky, “No wonder you keep coming back here.”

  The Queen called out down the hallway for assistance. A midwife and a wet nurse entered through the open door and immediately the midwife took charge of the baby. She changed his diaper and bathed him. When she finished, she handed the baby to the wet nurse. Lucky walked over to the wet nurse and studied his baby son, looking for telltale signs of who he might resemble. He smiled, satisfied with the knowledge that the Princess and his son were now okay.

  “Come on,” he said to the doctor. “I want to introduce you to the King of England.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  12th Century England

  King Robert instantly noticed Lucky and a stranger standing by the entrance to the Great Room. Immediately, he dismissed all those around him. He was curious as to why Lucky would bring a stranger to the castle. Dr. Grossman was engrossed in the opulence of the room, observing the shields and coats-of-arms adorning the walls, and did not notice the King as he motioned them to step forward. Lucky nudged him to get his attention. They advanced toward the King, but as they approached the throne, the Sergeant-at-Arms extended his lance, preventing them from getting any closer. He recognized Lucky, but he did not know the stranger. His duty was to protect the King and protect him he did.

  “Bow before the King,” the sergeant ordered. Dr. Grossman immediately followed his orders and bowed, but Lucky stood upright. The King motioned Lucky forward. Dr. Grossman, a little intimidated, remained frozen in his bow, as he tried to listen to the dialogue taking place between the two men.

  Lucky glanced around and said, “Grossman, you can stand up now,” and the King laughed along with Lucky. It was obvious to the doctor that there was a mutual respect between the two men. He guessed they were discussing the Princess, but he couldn’t be certain.

  “Who stands here? What man? A friend of yours, dear wizard?” The King normally did not approve of strangers in his palace when they had not received a special approval.

  Wizard, Grossman thought. What the heck? Lucky was now a wizard. This was already weird, but it was getting odder by the second.

  “Yes, Your Highness. This man saved the Princess twice.”

  “Twice, you say? But why does he stand here in the King’s castle?”

  “Well,” Lucky said, “I, we, I mean the Princess, needs him to make sure that she recovers from her ailments. The Princess was near death. This great doctor has magic medicines that cure, that heal. He will watch the Princess and the child until we have his spoken bond that all is well.” Lucky paused.

  “Go on,” the King instructed.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. This man goes by Doctor Grossman. He is as great a wizard as I, but in a different way. He works his magic by healing people and he has agreed to come with me to help the Princess and at the same time, also help your people. He will remain with us for only a few days. Perhaps, you will offer your blessing for him to visit with any of the kingdom’s subjects who ail.”

  King Robert looked closely at Dr. Grossman, and studied him intently. Then he turned to Lucky. “Another wizard, you say?”

  “Yes. I cannot do what he does, nor can he do what I do.”

  That seemed to satisfy King Robert. He motioned for Grossman to come and sit next to him so they might speak in private. Grossman looked at Lucky who nodded yes. He took a seat on one side of the King. The king motioned for the Sergeant-at-Arms to approach. “Sergeant, send runners to the near villages. Advise them to bring their sick to the castle as soon as possible. Tell them we have a wizard who heals.”

  It was amazing how fast word spread in the kingdom. Within hours, the sick began to trickle in. The Queen had the staff set up, what amounted to be a clinic, in one of the larger rooms of the castle. By evening of the following day, the keep was full of peasants waiting patiently in line to be treated for a variety of ailments. Dr. Grossman went to work. He worked long hours, tending to as many patients as possible, until well past the point of exhaustion.

  “This vacation to Australia had better be worth it,” he whispered to Lucky on the third day.

  “Never mind that,” Lucky said laughing. “Keep your mind on your work. You haven’t forgotten my Krystina, have you?”

  Dr. Grossman continued working steadily, day by day, for sometim
es eighteen hours a day.

  “It’s time for lunch Lucky,” the doctor said one day. “I need to take ten. Let’s grab a sandwich.” Lucky laughed. There was no such thing here as a sandwich.

  “Grossman, don’t hold your breath for a hoagie. Ain’t gonna happen,” he said.

  The two men entered the monstrous castle kitchen. The King’s chef was the best in the land. Spread on the table before them was an already prepared lunch the size of any great buffet at any restaurant back home – cheeses, ham, mutton, beef, salads and even a whole turkey with special wines from the King’s cellar. The two men gorged themselves. Grossman leaned back, took a sip of his wine and said, “Lucky, ya know, disease was a perpetual threat to all those who lived before penicillin. To do this right, to treat all these people properly, I should have a team of professional doctors and nurses working alongside me. But I don’t have them. All I have is myself and the brave ladies here who are helping me. Many of the patients I’ve treated are suffering from dysentery,‘the bloody flux’. I’m sure you know this, but the infection is caused either by bacteria or is spread through contaminated food and water, things that have been contaminated by infected fecal matter. Advanced stages of it can lead to bloody stools, meningitis, conjunctivitis, and arthritis. Dysentery killed entire armies. Boy, oh boy, are we lucky to be living in the time we do.”

  “Has your treatment of the patients been successful?”

  “Yes, thanks to penicillin. When I get back, I’ll requisition more. You can deliver it here. I’ll show the women helping me how to administer the serum before I leave. Well, I better get back to work,” he said, as he gently slapped the table. “I have a vacation to pay for.”

  Lucky spent his days visiting the Princess and watching Dr. Grossman treat countless peasants who needed his help. As word of the King’s wizard spread, the lines swelled even more. Their illnesses varied. Some had ergotism also known as St. Anthony’s fire, holy fire, or saint’s fire. This resulted when the patient was poisoned by a fungal infection of grain, especially rye. The results were dismal – forty percent mortality rate. Survivors usually were left with mental impairment of some sort.