Noel shoved away from him violently, sending Leon staggering into the table. Loaves tumbled to the floor.
Leon caught himself and whirled around, his face red and angry. “Why won’t you listen?” he shouted.
“No,” said Noel raggedly. “I won’t listen to you. I’ll never listen to you.”
“You’re a fool.”
“Maybe, but I’ll be damned before I become like you.”
Lunging past Leon, Noel ran to the hearth and kicked open the pile of ashes. Glowing red embers spilled forth, hissing with new life as they received oxygen. Noel crouched and blew on them gently, trying to coax flame. He reached for a stick of kindling when Leon careened into him and knocked him sprawling.
The impact hurt. Noel scraped his cheek on the stone floor. Pulling himself up to his hands and knees, he turned in time to see Leon stamping on the embers with his shoes. Noel tried to tackle Leon at the ankles, but Leon danced aside. He seized the poker and swung at Noel.
Rolling desperately, Noel evaded the length of iron, which clanged loudly on the floor and struck sparks. Leon swung again and again, driving Noel across the kitchen. Scrambling, unable to gain his feet, ducking and dodging the vicious blows of Leon’s attack, Noel grabbed the mixing bowls and threw them at him.
While Leon dodged them, that gave Noel time to scramble to his feet. He saw a pair of long iron tongs hanging on a peg and reached for them.
Leon brought the poker crashing down on the table between Noel and the tongs. Noel stumbled back, turned halfway, and felt the poker slam across his low back. The pain drove him to his knees. He felt as though his kidney had been crushed. The agony in his spine and low ribs made him wonder if both weren’t broken. He couldn’t move, couldn’t pull himself up and around to continue the fight. He knew, through the gray, sickening wash of pain, that at any moment Leon would bring the poker down on the back of his skull and finish him.
But the poker dropped instead on the floor with a loud clang.
Gasping, Noel dropped one hand to the floor and propped himself enough to glance over his shoulder. He saw Leon standing behind him, white to the lips with suffering. The pain and fury in Leon’s pale eyes told him that somehow they had become linked back together, at least enough to reestablish the empathic connection.
“It’s starting,” said Noel hoarsely.
Leon’s eyes widened. He staggered back a step. “No! I won’t go back.”
As though on cue, Noel’s LOC flashed to life on his wrist. Leon’s did also. Blue light and white light pulsed in unison.
“Warning,” they intoned simultaneously. “Five minutes to recall.”
“No!” shouted Leon. Like someone demented, he struggled with his LOC and managed to tear it from his wrist. He flung the computer across the room, into the fireplace.
Seizing the poker off the floor, Leon staggered across the room and pounded at the ashes.
“No—”
“I’m not going back,” said Leon raggedly. A cloud of ashes rose about him as he went on pounding blindly through them, searching for the LOC he intended to destroy. “I’ll never go back.”
“You’re crazy!” said Noel in alarm. He tried to rise to his feet and nearly fell. “Don’t—”
The explosion blew the fireplace apart, and the force of it sent Leon sailing through the air like a rag doll. The concussion of the blast knocked Noel back. Brick and dust rained down, and black smoke filled the room.
Noel’s LOC flashed rapidly, growing warm, then hot against his skin. “Warning,” it said. “Recall unbalanced. Warning. Recall unbalanced.”
Dazedly Noel dragged himself to his knees and looked around, There was a loud ringing in his ears, and his balance was off so that he swayed like a drunk. The smoke made it hard to see what remained of the room. He knew it had been a small blast; otherwise, he’d be dead. He groped his fingers across his face, checking for bleeding from his nose and ears. None. He’d been lucky.
As for Leon…
Coughing, Noel held his hand across his nose and mouth. A blaze burned at the end of the room where the hearth had been. A crock of oil had been spilled in the blast, and when the flames reached it they shot up high and hot, cutting off Noel from the door.
There was no other way out.
Struggling for breath, his eyes stinging and watering, Noel staggered to his feet, stumbled and nearly fell again, and somehow managed to keep his balance. The pain in his back was excruciating, but he knew he could not afford to surrender to it. The heat was already too intense for comfort. He could scarcely breathe, and he could not see Leon anywhere.
“Leon!” he called, then leaned over in a fit of violent coughing. He let himself sink to the floor and crawled below the level of smoke. “Leon!”
“One minute to recall,” said his LOC. “Warning. Recall unbalanced. Warning.”
What would happen if recall grabbed him without Leon? He shut off the fear building inside him and concentrated on finding his twin. Without the other LOC, he wasn’t sure either of them had much of a chance. But without Leon there was no hope at all.
“Leon!” he called again. “Where are you?”
A flurry of movement beneath the kneading table caught his attention. He saw his twin trying to burrow further out of sight, and crawled over until he could grab Leon’s ankle.
Burned and bloody across his face and neck, his coat in tatters, his fancy lace collar a tangle of charred strings, Leon kicked furiously. “Let me go. Let me go!”
“You’ll die in here!” said Noel.
Both of them were coughing. The flames had reached the ceiling now, and the old wood caught with a roar. Cinders rained down, landing on Noel’s back and burning through his clothing.
Leon tried again to twist free, but he was too weak to succeed. “Better to die here than in the time stream. You—”
He could not finish for coughing.
The heat was unbearable. Noel could feel his skin drying to his cheekbones, could feel his clothing absorbing the heat. He was dripping with sweat and nearly asphyxiated, but he clung harder than ever to Leon’s ankle.
“You fool!” said Leon hoarsely. “It won’t work, not without my LOC—”
He glanced up and screamed. Noel looked up and saw a flaming ceiling beam crash down less than five feet from them. Fire blazed up like an inferno, and Noel recoiled from the intense heat.
“We’ve got to get out!” he shouted. “The whole ceiling is going to come down.”
“There’s nowhere to go!” Leon shouted back.
Crouching against the table legs, Noel saw that he was right. More of the ceiling fell, orange flames licking hungrily as they widened the hole overhead. He could see blue sky now through the black smoke, and the air fed the fire.
Horrified, Noel clutched Leon tighter. Leon was still screaming, but Noel no longer had the breath for it. Every inch of his lungs felt scorched. The heat was too great. He could feel his eyebrows charring. His hair smelled like it was on fire. His clothes were scorching his body.
Then the whole top of the room came hurtling down at them, orange with flame and flying cinders.
Noel froze there, knowing that Leon was right. Recall wasn’t going to happen. Time had run out. He couldn’t even hear his LOC now. In one more second he was going to be crisped.
Without warning, the floor beneath him dissolved—as did the ceiling, the flames, the table, the walls—and Noel was falling through a cold gray mist of nothing, falling with Leon beside him, falling into a bottomless well of the dark void.
If he screamed he could not hear it. There was nothing for his senses to cling to, no reference points at all, save Leon.
Noel reached out for his twin, seeking any means to preserve his sanity.
Leon!
Noel!
For an instant they passed through each other; for an instant they were whole, one entity, the broken halves restored to completion. Noel/Leon laughed in joy, in relief. It was good. It was right.
A swirling distortion jolted by, snagging Noel/Leon and sweeping on. Tumbled helplessly in its wake, Noel/Leon felt the separation, felt the wrenching pain of being shredded, of being wrenched in two.
“Noooo!” cried Noel.
But it was done. He tried to fight clear of the time stream, but he was bumped and tumbled in all directions. Kicking out, he found himself bounced to one side and left there while the distortion went rushing on, taking Leon with it.
Then there was darkness, and quiet, and the vast, incomprehensible expanse of infinity. He tried to think, but his mind was chaos, endless jumbles of fragmented memories without reason. If this was madness, he did not know it. If this was the end of existence, how could he comprehend it?
But through the darkness came a paler molding of form and substance and shadow. Drawn to it, Noel passed through, back into the normal time stream.
The mist came, beyond which he could glimpse shapes and movement. Dazed and weary, Noel watched them for a while before at last his mind fastened there.
Institute, he thought. Home.
He reached out.
With a bump of transference, he found himself in the hard, clarified world of reality.
He lay with his eyes closed, not willing to face anything just yet, needing a few more moments to pull himself together.
He could feel the hard surface beneath him, could hear muted sounds in the distance, cries of pain, cries for help. He could smell smoke and fire. He could hear running. There came the steady beat of alarm.
It didn’t help, he thought. I went into the past to save the Institute from destruction, and I’ve come back to the same point. No effect. The lab is still on fire. The time stream is still collapsing. I failed.
It was very cold around him, so cold he could feel his skin growing numb. The air conditioning must have come on, triggered by the heat of the fire, or else the fire-control chemicals were creating a strange reaction.
Noel sighed and opened his eyes, knowing he had to face the technicians, had to face Ellis, Bruthe, and Dr. Rugle. He’d tried his best, but he hadn’t been able to hang on to Leon.
Rubbing his eyes to clear them, he pushed himself slowly up. His injuries from the fight with Leon were gone. His throat was no longer burning from smoke inhalation, and he no longer felt as though he had a cracked vertebra, but he felt sore and stiff just the same.
To his shock, however, it was not Lab 14 that surrounded him. Instead, he saw open, rolling pastureland bordered here and there by trees and thickets. Everything was blanketed by a thick layer of snow. He was sitting in snow, chilling, bone-numbing snow.
He could not comprehend it. Dazedly, he scooped up a handful of snow and tasted it. Wet and clean, it was so cold it burned his tongue. He spat it out and looked around.
In the distance something roared. He heard a whistle and saw a cannonball sail overhead. It hit the ground with a thud that made Noel jump.
Alarmed, Noel scrambled up and glanced wildly around. He saw men in blue-and-cream uniforms running across an open field, wearing tricorn hats and carrying muskets fixed with bayonets. The army facing them stood in orderly rows, their crimson uniforms, shining boots, and bearskin hats looking precise and deadly. Another roar of artillery went off from the hill behind the redcoats, and the men in Continental blue fell like toppled puppets.
In the distance, drums and fifes were creating a din of their own. A red, white, and blue flag—tattered and stained—fluttered on a pole held in the stalwart arms of a young boy. Officers in dark blue cloaks sat on their horses, watching the battle, dispatching messengers with fresh orders.
Noel’s mouth fell open. “America?” he said aloud. “The Revolutionary War? How did I end up here?”
More from Deborah Chester
Time Trap
In the 26th century, chaos threatens to overwhelm civilization—but the historians on staff at the Time Institute are determined to change things for the better. Through first-hand recordings of the greatest events of the past, they hope to reawaken the modern-day populace and restore its zest for achievement. The trouble for the Institute is that saboteurs have infiltrated.
The trouble for time-traveler Noel Kedran is that his mission lands him in the wrong place and century.
Medieval Greece is little more than a way-station for European knights headed for the Crusades. All but forgotten, this small pocket of history is awash in treachery as Greek bandits, French knights, and Constantinople's diplomats battle for supremacy. Caught in their clash to rule Greece, Noel fears that any alteration to the course of history could destroy his own time, until he meets a stranger who is his mirror image. This twin, as determined to destroy the future as Noel is to save it, will take both Noel’s fate and history into his own hands.
Showdown
Unable to return to the 26th century, historian and time traveler Noel Kedran struggles to repair the sabotage that keeps him ensnared in time's web. His evil twin Leon, created by the anomaly, works just as hard to prevent Noel from escaping the trap. Each attempt to go home lands Noel and Leon in a different era. Now, they're in the New Mexico territory in the year 1887—a harsh desert land plagued by lawless bandit raids, border wars, and fierce Apaches.
Although determined to preserve the fabric of history, Noel soon finds himself involved with the perils facing a ranching family. The ranch has been burned and a young girl abducted. If Noel can't find a way to rescue her, the altered time stream will change the future forever. That's exactly what Leon is hoping for. Which means that sooner or later, the two of them must have a showdown.
Pieces of Eight
In his attempt to return to the 26th century, historian and time traveler Noel Kedran is transported back to the Caribbean in 1697, where black-masted ships rule the treacherous seas and murderous pirates kill without mercy.
Stalked by enemies—including his evil twin, Leon—Noel fights to prevent a human sacrifice that could change history, and to stop his twisted twin before he destroys them both for a few glittering, golden pieces of eight.
Turncoat
A time loop drops historian and time traveler Noel Kedran into the Revolutionary War—and into a deadly battle with himself. While America fights for its independence, Noel wages a desperate struggle against his evil twin, Leon.
Leon's plan is to assassinate George Washington and change the course of the Revolutionary War. If the plot succeeds, history will be as warped as Leon's mind. Now it's up to Noel to defeat the British army, and his own worst enemy—himself.
Termination
In Renaissance-era Italy, as rival houses of nobility use deception and murder to gain power and wealth, historian and time traveler Noel Kedran struggles against the machinations of his evil twin, Leon.
Thrust into sixteenth-century Venice, Noel arrives just in time to step into a trap set by his mad double. Sentenced to torture for a crime he didn't commit, Noel attracts the interest of a sorcerer who wants the mirror-image twins under his control. He will plunge Noel into a shadowy realm of terror, madness, and death.
There's only one person Noel can trust to help him survive—the very twin who has pledged to destroy him.
The Children of Anthi
In the grand tradition of Dune, an epic of adventure and survival on a dying world.
Omari has violated every sanction of his world to hijack the Forerunner and blast his way through a black star to reach the Uncharted Zone—and freedom.
But on Ruantl, a toxic world lit by a black sun, Omari found himself hostage in an underground citadel deep beneath a radioactive wasteland. Here the enigmatic high priest and his horde of black-robed barbarian mutants guard an army of crystal caskets—and plan a bloody rebellion to save their race from extinction.
To survive, Omari has one chance. But does he dare undergo the ultimate sacrifice and become one of the CHILDREN OF ANTHI?
Requiem for Anthi
In the grand tradition of Dune, an epic of adventure and survival on a dyi
ng world
The world of Ruantl is nearly dead, its waters tainted and its land scorched by a poisonous black sun. Members of the Galactic Space Institute have crossed into the Uncharted Zone, eager to strip Ruantl of its gold and gemstones. They will not—and cannot—be stopped. Not by the few survivors of a dying race.
But one ancient lord is ready to fight back—even if he must reawaken the mighty goddess Anthi herself.
The Omcri Matrix
In the Planet Patrol, Costa was the best. The smartest, toughest, most ambitious officer in the ranks. Until the day the Omcri—a deadly alien force of faceless assassins—kidnapped the Kublai of Drugh, killing Costa's patrol but leaving her alive.
The brass think Costa has sold out. And now she's on the run, desperately trying to clear her name. Her search for the truth will lead her from the back alleys of her own planet to the savage dangers of unknown worlds—and finally, into the dark heart of the Omcri Matrix.
The Goda War
For eons, countless races have feared the godas, planet-sized doomsday machines that could destroy all time and space. But no one has ever dared unleash their awesome powers.
Until now.
Brock, dire-lord of the Held, is the only man alive who knows where the godas are hidden. As his empire crumbles, he vows to activate the godas—no matter what the cost.
But Brock has a rival: Colonel Kezi Falmah-Al of the ruthless Colonids. She too seeks the godas, to further her dreams of conquest. So begins the Goda War.
Now, not even the stars are safe.
Reign of Shadows
Caelan E'Non is the son of the land's most powerful healer, and is naturally expected to follow in his father's footsteps. Except Caelan feels a burning desire to blaze his own trail—and possesses a magic he does not understand.
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