Time Meddlers on the Nile

by Deborah Jackson

  A tremor jittered through Matt’s body. What did she mean, his father couldn’t exist? Had his dad died? But even if that had happened, it must have been after he’d created the time machine, and Matt. It shouldn’t have changed the timeline and now be threatening to erase them.

  “But you do exist,” said Matt. “And my father, is he dead?”

  “Your father has altered time. He still exists in the past, but when he is pulled back into the wormhole between the universes he will cease.”

  The tremor grew until he was shaking all over. Sarah placed her hand on his shoulder.

  “Do you mean,” she asked, “that he did something in the past to make it so he wouldn’t be born?”

  “Yes, essentially,” said Isabelle. “In this timeline. The alteration was too disruptive to the original events of history. Once the wormhole captures him again he will cease to exist, and then I will cease as well. Once I no longer exist, you will be no more. All memory of this will be gone.”

  “No!” said Matt, shaking his head. “My father wouldn’t . . . How could he change . . . ? What did he do?”

  “Your father was in Nubia. I do not know what he did, but it altered history irrevocably.”

  “It can’t be. How could anything he did have changed history so completely that . . . What’s changed, anyway?”

  “I do not know. Everything is on the verge of disappearing, including me. All I am certain of is what surrounds us. Forest. No structures, no Ottawa, likely no western civilization in North America, if that is the case.”

  Matt grasped the chair in front of him to keep his balance. He held his breath for several seconds, trying to absorb what the computer was saying. “My father only changed this universe?”

  “Yes. The wormhole brought him to this one.”

  Sarah sank to the chair beside the console. Her warm olive skin looked almost ghostly. “What did he do? Is everything gone? Dad? Mom? Canada? The United States?”

  “Isabelle, can you tell us any more about how this happened?” Matt asked.

  “If I could access the new timeline, assuming another computer existed with which I could make a connection, I would be able to compare the two, but I can find nothing to interface with. Also, power has been disrupted and I only have a finite amount remaining in my backup unit.”

  “You’re losing power?” Matt’s chest locked and he could hardly breathe. Now the computer was dying?

  “Yes. You can access my databanks for the historical records, but I may not have enough power to keep it up for long, and if you cannot read fast enough, it will be gone before you have the required information to identify what your father may have altered. Instead I will dump the data and print it for you as long as I can.”

  The printer beside the main console bleeped into life and began to spew out page after page of data. Matt ran over and grabbed a fistful, but a minute later he was finding the factual information on Nubia, Egypt, and the rise of western civilization difficult to sift through.

  “I can’t . . . read this, Sarah,” he said, hardly able to spit out the words.

  Sarah still seemed shell-shocked, her eyes wide and dazed. She shuffled over to the printer anyway, and picked up a handful of notes. She appeared to be reading quickly, but a perplexed frown creased her face.

  “It’s just history. How can we possibly know what he did to change the past so drastically it erased us?” she said.

  Matt couldn’t believe she didn’t get it. “There has to be a link between our civilization and this . . . Nubia.”

  “But it’s like looking for one small fish in an ocean. It can’t be done.”

  Matt scowled. This wasn’t the Sarah he was accustomed to. She was always a little timid, but she never gave up. “Yes it can. We’re not going to just disappear. We’ll have to—”

  “My backup power is nearly gone,” Isabelle interrupted. “If you wish to stop Dr. Barnes, you must leave soon. Once my power is drained, the portal will not function.”

  “Leave?” said Sarah.

  “Of course,” said Matt. “We have to go to Nubia to stop him.”

  “But we haven’t read the information. We don’t know what he did, or where in Nubia he is.”

  Matt stared at her for a long moment, then he came up with a plan. Well, it wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all he could think of. “We’ll take the data with us,” he said, snatching his backpack from the floor where he’d chucked it when they’d travelled to the Cretaceous Period. “Isabelle, can you at least tell us when Dad changed history?”

  “Yes, it was in 701 BCE.”

  “All right. At least we know that much. Then you’ll have to send us there to that time,” said Matt.

  “Earlier,” said Sarah, surprising Matt with her sudden agreement. A determined look was smoothing out her brow. “Isabelle,” said Sarah. “Can you tell us where Dr. Barnes entered Nubia?”

  “Dr. Barnes first arrived in Nubia near the Sixth Cataract of the Nile River.”

  “Well then, that’s where we’re heading,” said Matt. “Scan us.”

  Isabelle scanned them both, Matt in his ball cap, Sarah in her wide-brimmed zebra-striped Safari thing. If the situation weren’t so tense, he would have made a comment.

  The scanning complete, they tossed the hats on the ground.

  “You must hurry,” said Isabelle. “I am diverting power from lights and heating.” The lights flickered above them, and then were extinguished.

  “Great,” said Matt. “Open the portal near the Sixth Cataract just before my dad got there.”

  The bubble in the portal altered slightly, distortions running through it like heat waves, but the hazy atmosphere remained. They couldn’t see anything.

  “Okay. Let’s do it,” said Matt, grabbing Sarah’s hand and drawing her towards the bubble.

  “Matt, we’re not dressed for ancient Nubia. How do you think people are going to react to us? We might do as much damage as your dad.”

  “We can’t make things any worse,” said Matt. He stepped into the portal, squaring his shoulders, determined to stop the destruction of his world. Then something occurred to him. “By the way, Isabelle, what’s a cataract?”

  The earth dropped out from under his feet.

  Chapter 3

  Into the Jaws of the Nile

  Sarah felt herself slurped into the machine, compacted as she passed through the restrictive wormhole, and emerging into dry, thirsty air and stinging particles of something or other. Then she fell, plunging into cool, bracing water. Her head went under and she drew in a mouthful of water, then bobbed up again, sputtering and coughing. She could see Matt a metre away, but his hand had been wrenched from hers. Before she could open her mouth to call him, a rift in the water dropped her down again and a wave splashed over her. The current buffeted her sideways and spiralled her downward, then released her. She popped up above the surface like a cork from a bottle of champagne. Sarah gasped and coughed. When she could grab a glance at her surroundings, all she could see were spears and knobs of black rock, raging white water, and Matt’s blue shirt and blond hair spinning farther away from her.

  “Matt!” she cried. Then the water thrust her under again.

  Instantly she bobbed up, gasped, and stayed at the surface this time. She rocked through a few more waves, but the current seemed less turbulent now. No more black spikes pierced the surface, leaving only gentle ripples and a wider fan of water. Sarah took a minute to re-inflate her lungs, letting the current carry her as she inhaled, then exhaled—slow, deep breaths. Okay. Okay. I’m all right. Now where’s Matt? She looked to her left and right, over her shoulder. He was drifting to her right, a little behind, and still sputtering, but breathing. At least he wasn’t going to drown on her, like he’d almost done the first time they’d encountered rapids.

  Sarah tread water and scanned the area, trying to determine where they’d landed or “splashed down” this time. They were travelling through a lengthy gorge, red cliffs and weathe
red mountains crowding out the sky. A shadow-filled chasm. They’d just passed through a narrow funnel where the river had been squeezed between sharp black rocks, and had now entered a wider section of the gorge, where there were far fewer rapids to body surf. She shook her head. Why couldn’t they have a normal trip through time for once, where they didn’t end up somewhere “challenging”?

  “Sarah,” called Matt. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” she replied. She kicked off towards him and soon reached the spot where he bobbed in the waves. They continued to ride the current, but at a more relaxed pace. “How are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m alive. I can’t believe Isabelle dumped us in the middle of the river.”

  “Well, you did tell her to send us close to where your father ended up. I suppose he might have fallen into the river too. It’s not like he can control where the wormhole drops him.”

  “Well, I hope next time he doesn’t end up in a volcano.”

  “Next time?” Sarah said, more sharply than she meant to. “Matt, if we don’t fix whatever happened here, there won’t be a next time. Not for your father and not for us.”

  Matt winced and looked at her sheepishly. “You’re right. We’d better get out of this river first, though.”

  As they surveyed the stretch of cliffs on either side, the peaks gradually shrank in size, gently eroding down to hills and manageable banks. Sarah nodded towards the east and kicked off in that direction. As they cleared the worst of the steep bluffs, Sarah swam closer to the riverbank. The water was muddy and opaque here. Papyrus reeds with feathery fanned heads grew in thick clumps along the side where sand and silt had been deposited. Two needle-beaked ivory birds—ibises, she thought they were called—flew out of the shallows at her approach. Finally her feet touched bottom and she slogged through the reeds, her sneakers sinking and catching in the mud. At one point they came off altogether and she had to reach down to release them.

  While she fished for her shoes, Sarah turned and saw Matt having the same issues while traipsing through the water. He smiled, though, his usual confident, upbeat self. How does he do it? But as she watched him, a dark shadow in the water crossed his path, and then another, setting off tiny ripples. What was that?

  “Matt,” said Sarah. “Maybe we need to get out of the water.”

  “Yeah, I’m kind of sick of being wet. But look at the bright side. At least the dino poop has been cleaned off.”

  A wash of waves slapped at Matt’s back. Again there seemed to be movement all around him.

  “I-I don’t think that’s a fish,” stammered Sarah.

  “What isn’t a fish?” He looked across the water at the swelling ripples and his eyes slowly widened. “Okay, let’s move.”

  Matt charged forward, steaming through the mud now, but the shadow pursued him. Water cascaded off a ridged hide as giant jaws leaped from the river and snapped at Matt’s arm, just missing his skin. The beast sank below the surface again.

  The next second another pair of eyes broke the surface, just at Matt’s back—bulbous eyes with reptilian slits.

  “Matt!” Sarah screamed. She thrust back through the water and yanked him forward before jaws snapped at his behind. They fought through the mud now, leaving their runners stuck fast, but Sarah doubted they would make the bank before one of the creatures caught them. What to do? What to do? She spied a floating branch from a thorny tree, caught up in the reeds. Dodging to the side, she hoisted the branch, aimed it at the enormous snout emerging from the water, and hammered the creature. Thorns pierced its eyes. It slammed its jaws shut and jerked its head from side to side. Then it sank and swam away from them.

  There was still the other one, though. It was fast approaching Matt from the opposite direction.

  “Toss it,” yelled Matt.

  She flipped the branch over to him. He caught it with a grimace, and then struck the snout as it whipped out of the water. A mild thump, like a boat hitting a submerged rock, echoed in the gorge. Matt plunged underwater.

  “No!” Sarah cried. Had those huge jaws grabbed him, pulled him under? Suddenly a carcass floated to the surface. Sarah exhaled as she realized it was the creature, not Matt. It rolled over in a flash and dove for deeper water. Sarah stabbed her hands below the murky surface, feeling through the muck for Matt. She found an arm and heaved, hoping it was still attached to his body. An intact Matt popped to the surface, thank goodness. His skin had gone chalky-white, although his face was an angry red, raked with abrasions. His shirt was partially shredded, but he blinked and breathed.

  “Are you all right?” asked Sarah.

  He nodded and staggered. Sarah clutched him around the waist and helped him the final metre to shore. Although it looked like Matt wanted to collapse right there, Sarah didn’t think they were far enough away from the water. She nearly had to carry him, but they climbed several metres higher. There, on the rough, rocky bank, she let him slump to the ground.

  “Well,” said Matt, blinking and fingering the lump that was developing on his forehead. “That’s a first. I guess we’re ready for Nubia now.”

  “I guess we’re not,” said Sarah. “Besides, you’ve already broken your promise.”

  “What promise?” he asked, looking mystified.

  “You said there would be no rapids next time we travelled through time, remember?”

  “Hey, they’re not called rapids. They’re cataracts, right? So, technically, I didn’t break anything, except my skin.” He paused and, despite his wretched condition, grinned. “And hey, when did I ever promise there wouldn’t be crocodiles?”

  Chapter 4

  A Real Taste of Africa

  “Nile crocodiles. I’ve read about them. They’re supposed to be the most vicious creatures on the Nile, and they’ve eaten more people in Africa—”

  “I get the point,” said Matt, not wanting to be reminded of how he’d almost been dinner for two. “But why did we have to run into them right off the bat?”

  “I suppose crocodiles are all over the Nile, even in Egypt at this time.”

  “Well, I don’t want another clash with them, so let’s just stay out of the river.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. We’ll move away from the river, up the bank here, but we should keep it in sight.”

  “Why?” asked Matt, wanting to put as much distance between him and the crocodiles as he could.

  “Because your dad’s coming this way. Somewhere along the river, near here.”

  Matt couldn’t argue with that. He paused a moment to take stock of his injuries. A walnut-sized lump had puffed out on his head, puncture wounds, from the thorn branch Sarah had heaved at him, dotted his hands, and countless bruises and abrasions streaked his skin. But all in all, he was okay, and hey, how many people could say they’d wrestled a croc and come out a winner?

  “You sure you’re all right?” asked Sarah.

  “Never better,” he said, lying through his teeth.

  Matt reached around and yanked the backpack from his shoulders. It still seemed to be intact. He unzipped it, breathing a sigh of relief that the papers he’d placed inside the plastic pouch in the middle were still dry. At least that part of his backpack was waterproof. The rest was rather soggy.

  “The papers are okay. But I still think we’re too close to the river.”

  He resealed the pack, scrambled to his feet, and charged up the riverbank, taking Sarah’s hand and tugging her with him. At the top of the embankment, they stood and surveyed the area. Across the river, to the west and beyond the rocky red hills, lay seemingly endless undulating stretches of golden sand dunes. On this side of the river, though, the land appeared quite different. It smoothed out along the bank and seemed fairly flat, with only the occasional clump of rolling hills. Instead of sand dunes, it was speckled with thorny trees and tufts of long yellow savannah grass.

  “Well,” said Matt. “At least we have grass to walk on, instead of hot sand, since we don’t have our shoes anymore.�
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  “We could always go back and get them,” Sarah said with an unusual spark of good humour.

  “Right,” said Matt. “But I kind of like going barefoot. Gives me a sense of freedom.”

  Sarah nodded, but her grin had faded. “It’s going to be tough, Matt. Without shoes, our feet are going to suffer.”

  “Not if we just sit here and wait until my dad shows up.” He squatted down on the grass and looked over the wide, desolate terrain in front of him. “I don’t see how this place could be so important.”

  “How can you judge that from a first impression? Besides, we’re not even in an area where there are people. There should be cities, or at least villages, farther down the Nile. They might have played some role in history.”

  Matt grunted, but didn’t feel the need to respond. Sarah was probably right. He shouldn’t make a judgement, but it seemed so empty here, so insignificant. It was as if they were on the far side of the moon in a wide drab plain, constantly bathed in sunlight, but unseen, unnoticed, unremarkable. They sat staring at that unremarkable emptiness, the sun beating down on them relentlessly. Sweat leaked out of Matt’s pores, re-soaking the torn T-shirt that was just beginning to dry up.

  “Well, I suppose we should look through the notes,” he said.

  Sarah agreed and he distributed pages—the heavier stack going to her. Then he began to read. It took a few hours, and by the time he looked up, his throat was dry and scratchy. He licked his lips and found them already cracked and sore.

  “I’m thirsty,” he said.

  “So am I,” said Sarah.

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Well, there was a pharaoh—their king—called Shabaqo, who reigned over Nubia and Egypt at this time. And I came across the name of a prince—Taharqa.”

  “Yeah, I read that name too. He became the king later. But I didn’t see any connection to our own civilization, culture, whatever. It’s still centuries away from forming. How could anything here have stopped Columbus or Cabot or Cartier from sailing to North America?”