by Tad Williams
Colin laughed. “He wouldn’t just let you go. He’d have my mother brew up one of her special medicines and adjust your memories. She’s good at that-it’s sort of like hypnotism. She’s had to do it with a couple of government inspectors over the years.” He couldn’t help noticing that Lucinda’s expression had completely changed. The girl was looking at him as though she had just remembered he was a space alien who wanted to eat her. “Lucinda? Did I say something that upset you?”
“N-no,” she said, shaking her head rapidly. “No, Colin. Go on.”
He had no idea what that was about, but he didn’t have time to waste worrying about it. He was trying to get this whole disastrous night back under control. Colin couldn’t afford anything that would upset his plans before he met with Modesto again; there could be no more excitement on the farm, no more upheavals, starting now.
Both Jenkins kids were watching him, waiting to hear what he said next. The cavegirl who had almost knocked his head in now crouched beside them, cowed and anxious. With nothing but his wits, Colin had taken control of a bad situation and was back in charge.
He was very proud of himself.
Chapter 22
At Last, Some Answers
U ncle Gideon was wearing his bathrobe and slippers, as usual. Several days’ growth of gray beard furred his cheeks and he smelled more than a little stale, like clothes that had been hanging in a damp bathroom for a couple of days. Still, his wits seemed as sharp as ever: after Tyler finished telling his story (or at least the carefully crafted version Colin had prepared, in which Tyler was an innocent victim of the Fault Line instead of someone who had broken the rules to explore the silo), Gideon stared at him for several moments with open suspicion. It was all Tyler could do not to squirm under that disbelieving gaze.
He didn’t like letting Colin Needle call the shots on this, but he was glad he didn’t have to tell anyone about Octavio Tinker’s diary or any of the other things he and Lucinda had collected. And now that he was facing his great-uncle’s mistrustful gaze, Tyler had to admit that the last thing he wanted to be telling Gideon Goldring was the actual truth.
“Well… that’s quite some news,” Gideon said at last, straightening in his chair. “So the Fault Line is active again-just conjured up an ice age for a few minutes and spewed out this young woman? How lucky for you, Tyler, that the manifestation barely touched you-how lucky for all of us! I don’t know what I would have told your mother if we’d lost you instead of gaining a new farmhand.” He looked entertained by the idea in a sour sort of way, then grinned at Tyler and Lucinda. “But now you two know our biggest secret! You should be honored.”
Tyler was still shivering a little. Honored! I could have been killed! In all the excitement that fact had kind of escaped him until now. Okay, maybe it was my own fault, but they ought to have warning signs up around that thing!
Most of the farm folk had gathered in the kitchen. The cavegirl had already fallen into the gentle clutches of Sarah and the rest of the kitchen staff, who had taken her off to bathe her and dress her in something more suitable to a California summer than her heavy, greasy animal hides. Tyler wondered whether she would really become a farmhand-obviously, no one had asked the girl whether that was what she wanted.
As if sensing Tyler’s thoughts, Gideon said, “Now, what shall we name our newest arrival?”
“She’s got a name-she’s called Last One.”
“What sort of name is that for a modern young woman?” Gideon chuckled. “No, we’ll call her… I know. We’ll call her Ooola. That was the name of Alley Oop’s girlfriend in the Sunday comics-quite appropriate for a young Paleolithic lady, don’t you think?”
Tyler had no idea what the crazy old fellow was talking about, but he was too tired and too grateful not to be in trouble to argue about it. “Why can’t she talk our language anymore?” he asked. “When I met her I could understand her and she could understand me too.”
“Ah, but she never could speak our language,” said Gideon. “While you’re in the field of the Fault Line, there is a sort of, I don’t know, instantaneous translation that goes on. Mind to mind, so that although both parties might be speaking completely different languages, their own languages, they can still understand each other. I think it’s one of the ways in which the flow of time protects itself-that is, it lessens the potential for something catastrophic happening. Prevents paradoxes.” Gideon warmed to his subject, as if he was beginning to enjoy himself a little. “If you were to sit on top of the Fault Line-always assuming that you actually could, and it was a day in which there was no, well, activity there-then you’d probably be able to understand each other again, because there’s usually a leakage of energy in the immediate vicinity.” He grew stern again. “Don’t even think about trying that, young man.”
“I won’t,” said Tyler. “I promise.”
“That’s also the reason cell phones and even regular telephones and other electronic things don’t always work right around here. It’s the Fault Line.” He shook his head.
“No, young Ooola will just have to learn English like Sarah and Ragnar and all the others did. Don’t worry, we’ve done all this before.”
“So everyone here’s from the past?” Lucinda asked. Tyler looked at Ragnar and the herdsmen, the Three Amigos, who were talking in quiet voices at the table a few yards away. No sign of Mr. Walkwell yet, he couldn’t help noticing. He wondered how he was supposed to treat the man now that he knew he had goat legs. It was all pretty weird.
“The past? More or less,” said Gideon, but the old man suddenly looked a little cagey. “To be honest, not even my grandfather Octavio knew exactly how the Fault Line works, for all his research. He believed it might open not just on other times but on alternate versions of Earth as well.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. “So far I’ve only observed time rifts, but who knows? We’re at the leading edge of a science no one else has even dreamed of.” Pride deepened his voice.
“Then why are you keeping it a secret?” Lucinda asked. “Shouldn’t there be people here, scientists from all over the world?”
“Good God, child, are you mad?” Gideon sat up in his chair as if someone had just tried to steal the bathrobe right off his skinny back. “It wouldn’t be scientists, it would be the government. And they wouldn’t just be studying it, they’d be trying to figure out how to use it-trying to change the past, who knows? Next thing, the entire fabric of time and space would collapse. Hand it over to the so-called authorities? Not bloody likely.”
“But what are you doing with it, Uncle Gideon?” Lucinda asked. Tyler was impressed. He’d never seen his sister so serious about something that didn’t have commercial breaks and well-known guest stars. “Why do you get to be in charge of something so… so big, so important?”
Gideon flushed red. “Because Octavio Tinker discovered it, all by himself! He tried to get the government’s help when he was first searching for it and they laughed at him. Every university in America treated him like he was a crackpot! It belongs to the Tinkers-it belonged to me and my wife-and I’m going to hold on to it, thank you very much.” He had gone from calm to quivering in a few moments. “And just because you know about it now, girl, don’t think that you can tell me what to do with my own property. If someone called the government in here tomorrow, you know what they’d get? Nothing! Because I’ve got enough dynamite to blow the whole thing into a heap of dirt, and I’d do it gladly before I’d let anyone waltz in here and start telling me how the Fault Line should be used.” He wasn’t just trembling now, he was red in the face and breathing hard. For a moment Tyler felt certain that Gideon Goldring was going to reach out and grab his sister by the throat.
“Your tea, Gideon,” said Mrs. Needle. She’d swept in without Tyler even noticing, appearing behind the old man’s chair like a magic trick. “Don’t shout at Lucinda. She’s a good girl and she’s just concerned about doing the right thing.” She gave his sister one of her cold smiles, but for onc
e Lucinda didn’t respond, looking away as though she didn’t want to meet the Englishwoman’s eye.
“You’re right, of course, Patience.” Gideon looked at his tea but didn’t touch it. “It’s all a bit much, that’s all.”
“Of course. You have a tremendous responsibility, Gideon.” Mrs. Needle laid a pale hand on his shoulder. “A real burden. You have decisions to make. There is a great weight on you right now.” The hand looked like a white tarantula.
Gideon shook his head, suddenly calmer, even a bit weary-looking. “In any case, now you kids know the greatest of our secrets here at Ordinary Farm. I’m sorry you had to wait so long, but as Patience so aptly puts it, it’s a tremendous responsibility. Now you really are part of the family.”
Tyler nodded, but a part of him wondered what that meant exactly. They had already been part of the family when they arrived, which was more than any of the rest of these people could say. He looked around at the group. The Three Amigos and Ragnar and the others seemed to be in a cheerful mood, as if the truth of the Fault Line was a secret none of them had much liked keeping. It was almost like a party, but there were other strange currents that Tyler couldn’t understand.
“So that’s it?” he asked. “There’s just this big… hole in the universe? In time or whatever? And it just happens to be here?”
Gideon had been staring at his tea. “What? No, boy, it doesn’t just happen to be here. Octavio Tinker went searching all over the world for a place like this. The only other spot that had the same likelihood turned out to be in the middle of the ocean about a thousand miles south of Madagascar-not a great location for an experimental site.” He grinned. “Octavio found the Fault Line, he bought the land, he built the house. I think I will have a little of that cider, Sarah.”
Mrs. Needle seemed about to say something disapproving but kept her mouth closed, though her lips thinned to a line. “Shouldn’t these children be getting to bed, Gideon?” she asked instead. “After all, they’ve had a very busy day-especially Tyler.”
“He had a bit of an adventure, Patience, that’s all. Boys are sturdy! I know I was at that age.”
“Oh yes, but before that Tyler did his chores, and then all that boyish larking around, messing about chasing squirrels. He must be ready to sleep like the dead.” She caught Tyler’s gaze and something flashed in her eyes, a cold, poisonous glint that made his heart flutter.
She knows, he thought. She knows exactly what I did.
“But Uncle Gideon, what is the Fault Line, really?” Lucinda asked. “Did all the people here just pop out of it? I still don’t understand.”
Before their great-uncle could answer, Sarah, Azinza, and Pema emerged from the back with a young woman Tyler at first didn’t recognize. Her eyes were wide, as though at any moment she might have to run for her life. Her wet reddish hair curled around her face, and she was draped in a colorful length of fabric far too long for her-one of Azinza’s dresses. It was only when Tyler realized that the thin red lines on her face were doctored cuts that he realized it was the cavegirl, Last One.
“Ah, our newest guest!” said Gideon, with all the forced good fellowship of a department store Santa. “Ooola, welcome to the family. Someone get her some cider.”
“Don’t be mad, Gideon,” said Mrs. Needle. “She’s probably never had strong drink in her life. If you could bring her some water, Sarah, and something to eat. Not too much, though, or she’ll likely make herself sick.”
Tyler didn’t like the way that Gideon had just taken away the girl’s real name. He wanted to say again that she already had a name, a perfectly good one that meant something to her, but he knew he would simply be laughed into silence by the old man. He was dizzy with the warmth of the kitchen, and despite the nastiness of her intent, Mrs. Needle had been right-he was also extremely tired.
“To go back to your question, Lucinda,” said Gideon, “Octavio Tinker was decades ahead of his time. He deduced the existence of what he called the ‘fifth dimensional transit,’ and then proved it when he found this place. I won’t bother to try to explain it all-it’s very complicated. But the simplest way to imagine it is that the first three dimensions are space, the fourth is time, and the fifth is probability.” Gideon made a round shape with his hands, then indicated a straight line running through the middle of it. “The Earth has fifth-dimensional transit poles just like it has magnetic poles. That’s the point where the fifth dimension transits our four-dimensional space.”
He sat back with his cider, raised the glass, and took two large swallows. “So here’s to old Octavio. He may have been a tightfisted, mean-spirited son of a gun, but he sure proved all those other eggheads wrong. Because we’re sitting right on top of the fifth-dimensional transit. The place where our Earth comes into contact with all the other earths it has ever been-and we don’t even know about all the possible earths. The Fault Line is a doorway into time.” He sighed, suddenly looking as though the air had leaked out of him. “If only we knew how to navigate it-how to find our way back from inside it. You’re lucky that ice age bit of it stayed open long enough to let you out, boy. You could have been lost in it forever.” He looked down at his glass. Suddenly he looked very old. “Lost forever
… ”
“Now, Gideon, you’ll scare the children.” Mrs. Needle had resumed her “nice” voice-she sounded like Mary Poppins.
Only this Mary Poppins rides a broomstick, Tyler thought, not an umbrella.
He didn’t really understand what Gideon was talking about-he had found his own way out easily enough. Well, maybe easy wasn’t the right word, but… “You mean you can’t go into it and come out again?”
Gideon shook his head sadly. “We used to be able to navigate it. Octavio and my… ” He stopped and took a breath. “Octavio had an instrument that allowed him to move in and out of the Fault Line-to travel through it like an explorer with a compass or a sailor with a sextant. It was called the Continuascope. But it was lost several years back…”
Suddenly Tyler was wide awake. “That thing in the painting,” he said, unaware for a moment he’d said it out loud.
“Tyler!” Lucinda warned him, but it was too late.
“What are you talking about, child?” Gideon demanded, his voice suddenly harsh. “What painting?”
Tyler swallowed. It was too late to turn back. “There’s a painting of… of Octavio Tinker. In the library. He’s holding something-it looks kind of like a weird musical instrument, right?-and I always wondered what it was.”
Gideon stared at him with narrowed eyes. “And what were you doing in the library, boy?”
“Just… exploring. After my chores were done.”
For several heartbeats no one said anything. Then the dangerous moment-and it had felt quite dangerous-abruptly passed.
Gideon slumped back in his chair and took another gulp of cider. “That was it, all right. The Continuascope, the world’s only fifth-dimensional navigation device. It worked by crystallometry-genius, pure, elegant genius. But it’s lost now.”
“But can’t you make another one?” asked Lucinda.
“Hah!” Gideon’s laugh was bitter. “How could I replicate his genius- his secrets? The records are lost too. Lost… ” He shook his head in defeated anger. “You don’t understand how old Tinker worked! Making sure that everyone around him knew only a little bit of what there was to know. Then when it went wrong, there was nothing that could be done-nothing!”
Something important had slipped past him in all the talk, Tyler realized, some crucial detail, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He looked around. Ragnar and Sarah and the others were listening to the conversation, and everyone looked horribly tense.
“I’m… I’m pretty tired,” Tyler said at last. It was not a sentence he would ever have imagined himself using, especially when it seemed so many questions could at last be asked and answered, but he was very aware that he was no longer thinking very clearly. If he accidentally gave away that he had fou
nd Octavio’s diary, or that he had gone to the Fault Line by choice and then navigated his way out of it on his own, who knew what Gideon would do?
Gideon looked into his emptying mug of cider. “You two go on up to your rooms-plenty of time to talk. We still have you for a while longer. But this is all top secret! You two made me a promise, remember…” Gideon’s eyes filled with dark emotions.
“Sure.” Tyler nodded and got to his feet. “We made you a promise.” He swayed a little, and Lucinda stepped forward and put a hand under his elbow.
“Come on,” she said. “Good night, everybody.”
Tyler couldn’t help noticing that a number of new, quiet conversations had already started in the room before they even reached the door.
“Tyler!” Lucinda whispered as they climbed the stairs. “You were so totally right about Mrs. Needle being a witch!”
He tried to concentrate while she told him about the kitchen conversation, but it only confirmed what he had already known in his heart. “Bad,” he said. “She’s bad. But there’s more than that going on. They still haven’t told us… ” He shook his head. “I can’t think, Luce. Too tired. Tomorrow… ”
“But there were people trying to get onto the property-Mr. Walkwell caught one. And… and I think I heard the ghost. I heard it in my head! I’m scared, Tyler. I want to go home.”
“Are you kidding?” He was so exhausted he was slurring his words. “Things are just getting good.”
Tyler left his sister in the hallway. He managed only to kick off his shoes before he fell on the bed and tumbled down into a deep sleep.
Chapter 23
The Lost and the Left Behind
L ucinda still found it hard to believe that Ragnar had been born more than a thousand years ago. He looked like an ordinary man-somebody’s motorcycle-riding dad, maybe. She leaned over the cart. “Are you really all from… from the past?”
