Tempus Fugitive

by Nicola Rhodes

  * * *

  Cindy, being a witch, grasped the situation easily, but said she could not think of a way to help him really. ‘We could fly of course,’ she said. ‘But without the use of the astral plane it would be pretty hard going. On the other hand, we can take our time I suppose.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘We. Now help me move this big lump, we can’t leave him behind.’

  Flying, thought Denny sourly, I could have come up with that on my own if I’d had half a brain, I needn’t have bothered these two. Denny did not particularly like Cindy, and wondered how he was going to put up with at least three days – or the equivalent at least – of her company.

  * * *

  ‘Second star to the right and straight on till morning.’ Denny had now heard this particular “joke” at least six hundred times since they had set off two days ago. ‘It wasn’t even funny the first time, how does he put up with her?’

  He floated on his back above the clouds, leaving Eugene – in the form of an eagle – to navigate. This way he did not actually have to spend much time with Cindy – Eugene he could just about tolerate, under normal circumstances. But at the moment, any company was unwelcome; he wanted to be alone to fret.

  Cindy appeared beside him; he forced himself to smile.

  ‘Don’t grimace at me like that,’ she told him. ‘I know you don’t like me, you don’t have to pretend.’

  Denny scowled. ‘It’s not that,’ he lied. ‘It’s just that I’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment, it makes me moody; don’t take any notice of me.’

  Cindy nodded. ‘Fair enough,’ she said. ‘Except I am a witch you know – perhaps I’m not a very good one, but I did pick up on your desire to rip out my tongue.’

  ‘Oh – well, look it doesn’t mean …’

  ‘Listen, I could care less,’ she interrupted him. ‘But only if I were dead.’

  Denny grinned. ‘That was quite funny,’ he told her.

  ‘Yes well, I do have my moments you know, but you have to keep it simple around Eugene – he’s a lovely bloke, but he has the sense of humour of Homer Simpson’

  Denny actually laughed. Then he looked thoughtful. ‘I think I may have under-estimated you.’ he pinched his fingers together, ‘just a little bit – maybe.’

  ‘Like I said, I don’t care. Well –,’ she mimicked his previous action, ‘maybe a little bit.’ They both laughed.

  ‘The thing is,’ she continued. ‘We have a problem here. I just want to help out if I can. So we have to at least try to get along, do you agree?’

  ‘What do you think you can do?’ he asked. ‘I mean, really?’

  ‘I don’t know yet, but you never know. Anyway, you came to me, didn’t you? You must have thought I’d be some use.’

  Denny nodded. ‘Okay, I’ll try,’ he said. ‘I’m just so worried about her.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Well, I’ll try not to take it out on you. Good enough?’

  ‘She’ll be okay you know. If anyone can take care of herself …’

  ‘I know, I know.’

  Eugene appeared on the horizon. ‘Need a course correction,’ he said, turning right. ‘This way, wheee! Second star to …’

  ‘Shut up Eugene,’ said Cindy.

  Denny threw her a grateful look. She was all right really.

  He looked down through the clouds; they were nearly there. Wasn’t that York just below them? Just a few more hours and he would be home sweet home. And that, he thought, would be when his problems would really start.

  For some time, he had been watching birds skimming past without noticing them. After all, what was so unusual about birds in the sky? Think about it.

  * * *

  That damn computer had done it on purpose she was sure. Not that it wasn’t her own fault too. She now realised her mistake. All mainframe had done was what she had asked it to. It had taken her literally, when she had asked to find a “person” called Askphrit. So, it had sent her to him – so far so obvious. The real bugger was that this Askphrit was the wrong one, the human version of him who had existed briefly in that period after she had taken his powers and before he had got them back.

  A “person called Askphrit”. It was what she had said. She could not deny it. Only she was sure mainframe knew perfectly well that this was not the only version of him out there and that there was at least a chance that this was not the one she wanted. On the other hand, this was the present – one version of it anyway – it was the logical place to send her. Except she had not asked to be sent anywhere, at least she had not meant to. So why hadn’t she left yet?

  She knew the answer to this question as well as you do. Here was the perfect opportunity to get rid of Askphrit once and for all. He was mortal – vulnerable. She could kill him now and never have to worry about him again. It was a God-given opportunity. She smiled grimly, “God-given” indeed. Again, the feeling of a power working behind the scenes came over her. Had she been sent here on purpose to do this very thing? Did somebody want her to do it?

  Just do it, a voice in her head urged her. You know you want to; he’s evil, a monster. Think of all the things he’s done. He’s trying to kill Denny.

  ‘Denny!’ she thought, ‘he wouldn’t want me to do this. Askphrit’s mortal now – defenceless. It would be murder.’

  So what? How many has he killed? How many more? Think of all those you could save. Denny never needs to know.

  She felt like a puppet. The only question was, who was pulling the strings?

  Did it matter? She had been put in this situation for a reason; she could end it here and now, that was the point. She now felt more certain than ever that this was a task she had been given. It was her – she almost choked on the word – destiny.

  Bugger that!

  * * *

  ‘See what I mean?’ said the thin man, ‘We show her a clear destiny and what does she go and do? Humans – Pah!’

  The lackey nodded sympathetically.

  ‘Spanner! Clang!’ he added savagely. ‘Oh well, get me the planning department.’

  * * *

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ gasped Stiles.

  ‘Ah so you do know me then?’ said their visitor. ‘It’s been so long. At least it seems that way; time is relative, so I’m told. Well that makes things easier. There won’t be any of that tedious explaining and so on. As to what I’m doing here, can’t you guess?’

  Hecaté now found her voice. ‘Th – the monster!’ she croaked.

  Askphrit looked hurt. ‘Now – is that nice? I’m offended. I’m not a monster. However, I’m afraid I might have to put you to some inconvenience, if you won’t co-operate. And I see that you won’t, oh well – don’t even try it sister.’

  Hecaté had come forward with her hands raised, and begun to chant a binding spell.

  ‘I have, currently, more followers than you, therefore, I have the greater power, and you know it.’

  Hecaté bowed her head. She did know it.

  ‘Now then,’ said Askphrit, beaming, benevolently. ‘You asked what I’m doing here. When I’m supposed to be floating around history causing no end of trouble.’ He laughed. ‘You good guys, so predictable. I assume that the bane of my life and that “sidekick” of hers have gone haring off into the archives to track me down? I can see by your faces that they have. Good. So all I have to do is this …’ He ambled over to the computer and leisurely closed the file.

  ‘No!’ cried Hecaté and Stiles together.

  ‘Well that’s them taken care of,’ he said. ‘Trapped!’ He turned to them, grinning. ‘You lot,’ he spat contemptuously. ‘What a lot of blundering misfits! Did you really think that if I had wanted that boy gone, that I wouldn’t have got it right the first time? I’m insulted! I really am. On the other hand, I was depending on it.’

  He sat down in an armchair. ‘Well, isn’t one of you going to say it?’ he asked.

  ‘Say what?’ asked Stiles.r />
  ‘Why, say “You’ll never get away with it” of course.’

  ‘Oh I think that goes without saying,’ said Stiles.

  ‘Ah ha, ha, very good, yes.’

  ‘Get away with what?’ asked Hecaté. ‘I mean, you have not revealed your dastardly plan yet.’

  ‘Haven’t I?’ said Askphrit, surprised. ‘How very remiss of me. I suppose that’s why you haven’t tried any futile attempts at escape, or is it that you both have enough sense left to realise that you can’t? Still can’t be too careful eh?’ He manifested a cage around Stiles. ‘I know I can’t cage you darling,’ he said to Hecaté. ‘But I think I’m right in assuming that you won’t run off and leave your lover to my tender mercies.’ He looked at her. She nodded mutely.

  ‘Well now, let me see. Where were we? Oh yes, obviously I didn’t want to kill the kid. Otherwise, I would have done it. No, what I wanted was to create a near enough miss that they would feel the reverberations, and come after me. I wanted them safely in the past, so I could trap them there, where they can’t cause me any more trouble, and now they are.

  ‘I could have erased his existence, and that certainly would have worked too, except that would have changed my past too. I didn’t want that naturally. That would have put me back in that deleted file, still hiding, still waiting for her to find me. This way is better. She may have stripped me of my Djinn powers, but at least I am still a god. World domination is within my reach again. And best of all, that woman, is trapped forever in the archives of history; I finally have my revenge. She’ll realise, sooner or later, how she has been fooled, but there won’t be a damn thing she can do about it.’

  ‘The world is frozen in time,’ said Hecaté. ‘And only Tamar can undo it. How does that fit into your plans for world domination?’

  ‘It’s factored in,’ responded Askphrit. ‘In fact, I anticipated it. I needed the time it would give me to reach you, and to set things up, since I am not affected just as you were not.’

  You see I know that it’s not true that only she can undo it. In fact, the spell is already weakening here and there since she has become trapped. The universe compensates as you would say. However, this all takes “time” – if you will excuse the pun, and I am, unfortunately, short on patience. But you also have this power over time, you can speed things up considerably for me. I do not have this power, but I have Ran-Kur’s memories, and I know all about you, enough to know that you will do it.’

  ‘I will not,’ she said, defiantly.

  ‘Oh I think you will,’ smirked Askphrit, directing a blast of energy at Stiles, who screamed in pain. ‘I truly think you will.’

  * * *

  ‘Okay,’ said Denny putting down his guitar reluctantly. (The ability to manifest is at best a mixed blessing) ‘I won’t play anymore, if you promise not to tell anymore awful jokes, deal?’

  ‘What’s wrong with my jokes?’ said Cindy

  ‘What’s wrong with his playing?’ asked Eugene.

  Cindy gave him a dirty look. ‘Whose side are you on?’ she barked, whereupon Eugene turned himself into a mouse and ran up onto her shoulder, nuzzling apologetically until Cindy started to laugh.

  Denny sighed, feeling lonely.

  They were only a few miles from home – Denny’s home, that is, but Cindy had begged for a rest, she had been apologetic about it, but she just did not have the strength to go on, she said. She might be a witch, but she was only human. Sensing his impatience, she had suggested that Denny go on without them, she knew her way from here, after all. But Denny had gallantly refused. The truth was he had an uneasy feeling, caused by – who knew what? And he was unwilling to leave her alone with only Eugene, who was a very worthy fellow in his own way, but not much use in a crisis – he tended to panic and cower. ‘I was like him not so long ago,’ Denny thought. ‘People can change – but still …’

  He thought he had better stay with them – just in case. Just in case of what, he could not say, but Tamar relied on her intuition, and it rarely steered her wrong.

  ‘I didn’t even know I had intuition,’ he thought. ‘Probably, it’s just the heebie jeebies.’

  Still he kept alert through the next few hours (not to labour the point, but with there being no actual time etc. etc …) while Eugene and Cindy slept. He was glad he did.

  After a few hours (we’re going to have to think in real-time, just to keep the narrative flow) Denny noticed a squirrel; it was hopping along a fence. He did not think much of it at first, and then it hit him. Suddenly he remembered those birds. His heart stopped – what the hell could it mean? Was Tamar back? Or was she …? He dredged up a half-remembered conversation between Cindy and Stiles, hadn’t she said that if a spell was properly sealed only the one who cast it could reverse it, unless they died, then it automatically reversed itself, as the universe compensated? Oshit! He woke Cindy.

  ‘She probably didn’t seal the spell,’ Cindy soothed, but Denny could see that she was worried.

  ‘So, what?’ he argued. ‘Even if she didn’t, who would be reversing it, and why?’

  Cindy shrugged. ‘Didn’t you say she was in a parallel universe – without her powers?’

  ‘Go on, make it worse.’

  ‘No, I mean maybe that’s why the spell broke.’

  ‘It was still working when I got back.’

  ‘Maybe you got back before she entered the parallel universe.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Time is relative, particularly in hell I would have thought. Besides, the spell hasn’t completely broken – look.’ She pointed to a motionless cat. ‘Maybe it’s just wearing off.’

  ‘I have to get back – now!’

  ‘Agreed, I just don’t think it’s time to despair, not yet. There could be a million reasons for this.’ The cat wandered off.

  ‘That does it.’ said Denny. ‘If time’s operating again, maybe I can teleport again.’

  He vanished then reappeared again, scowling. ‘Well that was a waste of time. The effect’s pretty local,’ he said, ‘I ended up in the shopping mall’

  * * *

  Tamar backed into the shadows as another figure wandered into the alley. No whoever he was, he strode purposefully toward the slumped figure, behind him was another smaller figure. Tamar tensed; were they going to rob him? To think she was actually contemplating rescuing Askphrit of all people. People … of course, that was the point, he was now only a person.

  The taller man bent down and seemed to examine Askphrit; he turned to his companion. ‘Another one,’ he said, ‘poor soul.’ He shook Askphrit gently who woke with a start.

  ‘Huh, hey mmph I didn’t do nothin’, le’ me ’lone,’

  ‘Hello friend,’ said the man, ‘don’t be alarmed, we’re here to help, as is our duty and the duty of all good servants of the Lord.’

  ‘Huh?’

  The other person spoke. ‘Let me talk to him Brother Bartholomew,’ she said.

  Tamar grinned in the darkness, Bible thumpers. No doubt, they ran some kind of shelter. Hot soup and a bed for the night, as long as you took the pledge and promised to behave yourself. “Say your prayers and you shall have a cookie.” She knew Askphrit well enough to know what he would think of that idea. On the other hand, if you’re cold and hungry …

  The woman was talking to Askphrit in a low voice and then the two of them hoisted him to his feet and guided him down the alley. Filled with an almost insatiable curiosity, Tamar followed.

  ~ Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Did anyone see you?’ asked Cindy anxiously.

  ‘Well …’ then he stopped suddenly; Cindy was frozen stiff in front of him. He spun round. Eugene was in a similar condition. Just to confirm Denny looked up at a flock of geese, all frozen stiff in the sky above him. What the hell was going on?

  He considered leaving them there. He wondered why he had not been frozen too. He wondered if he was going mad. He decided he did not care if he was. Okay, Eugene first this time. He summoned all his strengt
h and spun and kicked Eugene’s legs from under him. Denny landed on the ground gasping, Eugene had barely moved, but he had moved; that was the main thing.

  ‘Looks like we’re back on track anyway.’ said Cindy cheerfully.

  ‘We don’t know that,’ snarled Denny. ‘We don’t know anything. I want to know what the hell is going on, and I want to know now!’ He flung the Athame at a tree, the blade sank through the trunk up the hilt and then it met the irresistible force of time and stopped, quivering resentfully.

  ‘You’ll never get that out now,’ said Cindy calmly.

  * * *

  Askphrit stopped gloating for a moment and frowned. He turned to the computer and typed for a few moments then turned back to Hecaté and Stiles with a malevolent grin. ‘Almost forgot about that,’ he said. ‘I can’t have those buggers in mainframe watching my every move, not now. Now is the time for a little privacy – don’t you agree?’

  Neither Stiles nor Hecaté had the least idea what he was talking about, so they had no opinion on the subject, and gazed blankly at him.

  However, Stiles did notice that the sun appeared to have gone out.

  * * *

  ‘It looks as if murdering the old swine was not the actual destiny we had in mind for her after all,’ said the thin man. ‘Typical planning department cloak and dagger stuff.’ He snorted impressively.

  The lackey had been watching Tamar for some time now and had his own opinions on her tractability. He doubted very much whether she was being “steered” as much as the planning department, or his boss, thought she was. He suspected that when the final dénouement came, it would be as unexpected to them as it would to anyone else involved; although they would never admit it of course.

  Suddenly the thin man swore and thumped the air. ‘Oh bugger, bugger damn, damn, damn,’ he said. ‘Would you look at that! What did I say about spanners?’

  ‘What?’ asked the lackey perplexed.

  ‘Look!’ screeched the thin man in fury and frustration, ‘Look at that – nothing! Not a glimmer, not a squeak’.

  The lackey gazed curiously at the screen – the thin man was right. He had never seen such a thing before – ever!