And if Askphrit had planned it, how the hell had he known?
Of course he had planned it, Clive thought. The evil cunning sod. And why he had done it was pretty obvious too. But how had he pulled it off?
It turned out to be staggeringly simple when Clive looked into it. He had changed the file numbers round. After he had killed the man once – he simply switched it so that when Denny finally found what he thought was the correct file (and it made no difference to Askphrit how long this actually took, it would all happen instantaneously from his perspective anyway) he was actually in the file for the previous day. And on that day Denny’s grandfather had faced and shot what he thought was an enemy spy – Askphrit himself of course.
He had clearly been banking on Tamar or Denny or both actually finding the codes at some point – but apart from that, he had left nothing to chance.
Clive was inclined to blame “them upstairs” for this. He was sure they had handed the codes over somehow (no doubt in some unorthodox and totally untraceable manner. And, had Clive but known it, Askphrit had been pretty sure of this too. As he had said to Stiles and Hecaté – good guys are all so predictable.
Still, none of that mattered now. It was done, and Denny (and by association, Tamar) were stuck in a time loop. It was fortunate, Clive supposed, that Denny had not really touched many lives in any significant fashion. The resulting mess, had he been a political icon, for example, or a contestant on “Big Brother”, would have been inconceivable. Still it was bad enough as it was, and what was to be done about it?
He considered simply pulling the plug on mainframe and switching the universe off. Maybe when he plugged it back in, it would go back to startup mode, and he could put this – and a whole host of other things, now he thought about it – right.
Bad idea! Someone would have done it by now if it were possible. Maybe someone had, he thought. After all, how would anyone really know?
He decided that it was too risky, besides he was not sure where the plug was.
He checked the alternate realities, but Denny it seemed was a remarkably consistent character. There was no universe out there that Clive could find where he had not taken exactly the same path – the aggravating creature. The only exception was the universe that had split off when Askphrit had dramatically changed his own destiny – and that was clearly impossible. It was not even the same Denny.
If only he could insert some extra time into the file. Just a few seconds would do it. Just long enough to break the cycle, in those few seconds Denny would both exist and not exist at the same time and Clive was quite certain that he was astute enough to see what was happening and stay his own hand. The problem was that time is not a commodity that one can just shift around at will. Although humans treated it that way, file clerks knew better. Humans talked of saving time or wasting time, of losing time and even – gross conceit – “making” time. Of course, humans did not actually “make” time they merely pinched it from other tasks.
Hmm, maybe they were on to something there.
* * *
The procession stopped abruptly as Tamar ran out heedlessly from her hiding place to where Jack Stiles had now stopped his slow shuffle towards eternity. He was, quite possibly, the first person ever to have done so. But not the last.
Charon was speechless with indignation this was unprecedented. The march toward eternity (as it was officially called) halted for no man – or woman.
Stiles stared blankly at Tamar, his eyes dull and uncomprehending. She stared back shocked and disbelieving. Not Jack! – Not here. The pain of it was unbearable; she felt like she could not breathe. She began to sob uncontrollably. The parade of the dead stared.
Suddenly Jack smiled – another first – lost souls do not smile. ‘Tamar?’ he said haltingly as if the word, as if speech itself was an unfamiliar concept. ‘What are you doing here?’
Tamar gave a watery smile. ‘I was going to ask you that.’
‘I’m dead,’ he said simply.
‘But- but, this is Hell!’ as soon as the words were out of her mouth she realised that she could have put it more diplomatically.
Stiles seemed unconcerned, however. ‘Is it? Well, I can’t say I’m all that surprised. My mother always said I wasn’t a good Catholic boy.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘I used to steal cookies,’ he said, with a sickly grin. ‘And once – I killed a man.’
‘I’m sure you didn’t mean it,’ said Tamar her heart wrung with pity.
‘Doesn’t matter does it?’ said Stiles. ‘Thou shalt not kill, and thou shalt not steal. I suppose it’s all one down here. I broke the rules.’
‘The rules?’ murmured Tamar, more to herself than anything else. There was that thought again, really clamouring for attention now. If only she had time to think.
By this time, the whole crowd of souls were crowded round them listening with their mouths open.
Charon had so many things he wanted to say, that the processes of his thoughts had brought his mouth to a standstill. He was choking on his own breath.
‘’Course, it was really my mother who promised that I’d keep the rules, not me,’ said Stiles, darkly. ‘Nobody asked me. But I suppose once you’ve been baptised into the Faith, that’s it.’
A door in Tamar’s head flew open and the thought marched in crying. ‘SEE ME!’.
She turned to the spluttering figure of Charon. ‘I want to see the boss,’ she told him. ‘ RIGHT NOW!’
* * *
From the point of view of Denny, it happened something like this –
Time slowed down, stopped and reversed, just about a minute he thought. Then it stopped again. He saw, in reverse as it were, what he had just done. No, he experienced it in reverse; that was more like it. Whatever it was, it was clear that he could stop himself this time. For some reason, he had been given a second chance. He had no idea what the consequences of his actions would be, beyond guilt. But Denny was no murderer and guilt was enough to stay his hand when time began moving forward again. It occurred to him that time, in the normal way of going on, stops for no man and that there must be some really weighty reason why it had for him. But even if he had not thought of this, he still would have changed his actions.
* * *
Denny and the young man stared at each other for a few seconds weighing up their options, although with very different thoughts. The shot had gone wide, and Denny had not been hit.
A moment later a policeman appeared, hurrying round the corner and took Denny by the elbow. ‘Come along sir,’ he said. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’ Denny offered no resistance. He recognized the voice. It was Clive.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Denny, quite naturally.
Clive shook his head. ‘Search me,’ he said.
‘Clive!’
‘Now then Denny, you know better than that,’ Clive admonished him. ‘I can only guide, I can’t interfere. Besides, I don’t really know an awful lot.’
‘You’re lying,’ said Denny baldly. ‘But never mind, if you’re here to guide me, what do you suggest that I do now?’
‘Hmm,’ mused Clive. ‘Good question. I suggest that you get out of this file. You won’t find your quarry here. He’s flown, and he won’t be back. In fact, it’s as if he was never here, if you follow me.’
‘Because of what you did to the time?’
‘In a way, yes.’
‘Can’t you tell me anything? Where can I find him?’
‘Ah, that is more than I can tell – no really, I don’t know.’
‘So, what happened, why did you stop time for me?’
‘Think about where you are,’ said Clive. ‘Can’t you guess?’
Denny suddenly saw the whole thing. ‘O-oh m-my G-God,’ he stammered.
‘Quite.’
‘I guess I really owe you one.’
Clive inclined his head. ‘Least I could do,’ he said.
‘But now I suppose I’m back to square one.’
‘Per
haps.’
‘Unless …’ Denny’s face creased with the effort of thought ‘Askphrit will be here tomorrow won’t he? To try to kill my Grandfather himself, won’t he?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘So do I?’ sighed Denny. ‘That was never the point, was it? The point was to get me here to do it for him. And now that has failed …’ he left the sentence hanging.
‘Who knows where he might be now.’ Clive finished for him.
Denny sunk his head in his hands. Clive shook his head. ‘Now is not the time to give up,’ he said.
‘Denny looked up. ‘No, you’re right, I suppose I should get back to Cindy, she might be in trouble now that things haven’t gone back to how they were before all this started. And then, I suppose, it’s back to plan A.’
He looked curiously at Clive. ‘Just one thing,’ he said. ‘How did you do it?’
‘I borrowed some of your spare time. Don’t worry, I took it from when you were sleeping, you’ll never miss it. Now, close the file.’
‘Close file.’
* * *
Cindy simply could not get her head around it, but she did pick up on what she thought were the main points.
‘So, Askphrit tricked you?’
‘Yes.’
‘And now he could be anywhere?’
‘That’s right.’
‘But as far as he’s concerned, you are stuck in a time loop in mainframe, and Tamar too?’
Denny thought about this. His face darkened into a frown. He thumped his palm with his fist. ‘That little bastard,’ exclaimed. ‘He lied to me,’
Cindy was puzzled. ‘Well, I don’t know if I’d call him little, exactly,’ she said tentatively.
‘Not him,’ said Denny, confirming what Cindy had thought. ‘Clive,’ Denny thumped his palm again.
‘What are you talking about?’ said Cindy patiently. She knew she would get there in the end.
‘Clive, that clerk, you know?’
‘Yes, I know who you mean.’
‘He knew, don’t you see? He must have!’
Cindy sighed. ‘Knew what?’
Denny looked at Cindy penitently. ‘Oh sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m so used to Tam being able to follow my train of thought I’ve forgotten how to explain myself. Let me see …’ he stopped to organize his thoughts. ‘Okay, Clive knew what you just said, about Askphrit thinking that I’m still stuck in mainframe. Like you said, as far as he’s concerned, his plan worked, which means that there’s no reason for him to go back and change it. So when I said that he wasn’t going to be in the file to go after my Grandfather and start this whole thing off, Clive knew, I was wrong, but he said I was right, do you follow me?’
‘I - I think so.’
‘Or at least, he let me think I was right, which amounts to the same thing. I could have waited in that file for another day and finished this for good after all, if he hadn’t convinced me that there was no point. The treacherous little swine.’
Denny stabbed the Athame viciously into a tree stump as if he wished it was Clive’s head.
Cindy shook her head. ‘How can you be so sure that Askphrit doesn’t know that his plan didn’t work? It seems to me …’
‘Because it did work.’
‘Huh?’
‘Because we did go into the files after him, because Tam did stop time.’ He gestured to the frozen birds above them. ‘And because we’re still here, and Tam and Eugene are stuck in mainframe, just like before I went back into the files. Nothing’s changed. Don’t you understand? The only thing Askphrit doesn’t know is that I escaped. And that means …’ Denny frowned biting his lip. He turned to Cindy, his eyes shining. ‘I know where he is.’
~ Chapter Twenty Two ~
‘What are you doing?’ hissed Eugene.
Tamar looked withering scorn at him. ‘I’m going to save my friend,’ she said. ‘You go home if you like, I won’t stop you.’
‘I think you’ve got delusions of grandeur,’ said Eugene. ‘I know you’re powerful, but what do you really think you can do against Him?’
‘I know what I’m doing – I think. Anyway, I have to try. You don’t have to come. I don’t need you,’
‘Of course I’ll stay, I just want to know what you’re up to.’
Tamar smiled. ‘You’ll see.’
* * *
Charon, rather reluctantly, led them up through the many caverns and levels of hell, saying ‘it’s your funeral – or rather your eternity of torment.’ He was rather bemused by this turn of events, and part of him wanted to see how it turned out. Besides, it does you good to get out and about occasionally. In any case, Tamar had threatened him with dismemberment, and he was not entirely sure that she could not manage it. Satan himself had no direct power over Charon, any more than he had power over Death himself, but Tamar was scary.*
*[Tamar was powerful, but her greatest gift was her unlimited self-confidence. People with far greater powers than hers, often viewed her with alarm and uncertainty, simply because she always acted as if she could do anything]
He left the new arrivals (all but Stiles) on the shore. He would pick them up later; after all, they were not going anywhere.
It was a long journey and Eugene tried to make conversation. He turned to Charon. ‘So, what’s your name?’ Even Eugene realised that this was a lame beginning, but one had to start somewhere, and Charon was not an approachable figure.
‘Charon,’ he grunted.
‘Sharon?’ said Eugene. ‘That’s an unusual name for a – a person of your persuasion.’
Charon looked at him curiously. ‘Is it?’ he said in a lugubrious tone.
‘Er, well …’
‘As far as I know, I am the only one of my kind.’
‘Oh, I see.’
Tamar smothered a smile.
Eugene was about to give up, but Charon was actually quite flattered by this unaccustomed attention. Nobody, in all his long years, had ever asked him about himself before. ‘I am the ferryman of the dead,’ he informed Eugene sombrely. I ferry all the dead from the world to their various destinations, so it has always been.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes, indeed. I belong to the underworld, and the underworld belongs to me. It is my special task until all worlds draw to a close.’
‘Fascinating.’
‘Ah, we are here.’
Satan looked up from his armchair. ‘What?’ he snapped pettishly.
Tamar stepped forward. ‘I’ve come to make a deal,’ she said.
Satan cowered.
* * *
‘You monster,’ Hecaté sobbed over the pile of ash that was her former lover. ‘Do what you will with me,’ she cried dramatically. ‘I shall help you no longer.’
Askphrit frowned. ‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘I suspect you mean it too. I do seem to have been a bit hasty here, don’t I? Tch, Tch, what to do? Peirce?’
Peirce ran forward, ‘Yes master?’
‘Sweep that up will you?’
‘NO!’
It was not the obsequious Peirce, who uttered this declaration, naturally. It was Hecaté, who flew at Askphrit furiously ‘Jack was right,’ she screamed at him. ‘They will escape, and he will be avenged. They will stop you, they will …’ she broke off sobbing. Pierce stopped to watch interestedly.
Askphrit was surprisingly gentle as he said. ‘No, no, my dear. Did you think I was merely boasting when I said I had taken precautions against that? They are trapped forever in a time loop that I created. He has killed his own ancestor, and from that, there is no escape. And she is bound up in his fate, as long as he is trapped, so is she.’ He allowed himself a chuckle. ‘And he cannot possibly escape.’
‘Guess again.’ It was Denny, who had kicked the door in with an impressive crash, and who now stood, dramatically framed in the shadow of the doorway, the Athame clenched in his fist, and a look on his face that would have turned gorgons to stone. For once he had made the entrance of a lifetime, and the impression that he ha
d intended. Askphrit was speechless.
Denny kicked Peirce out of his way and strode up to Askphrit. ‘Well, Well, Well,’ he said, ‘you seem a little surprised to see me.’
Askphrit replied with a sickly grin while his eyes darted hither and thither like a trapped animal seeking an escape route. He was also looking for Tamar, who he assumed would not be far behind.
Denny glanced around at the scene in the room. The still smoking pile of ashes, the tear stained face of Hecaté, now frozen in shock. It did not take a genius to figure out what had happened. This was fortunate, since even with the Athame, Denny was no genius.
‘You appear to have murdered a good friend of mine,’ he observed coldly. Neither angry nor sad – just stating a fact. ‘I think you’ll find that was a mistake. One of many you have made recently I might add.’ He turned to Hecaté. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time to prevent this.’
She looked at him in wonder. ‘At least you are here now to avenge him,’ she said.
Denny nodded. ‘Any last words,’ he said to Askphrit, ‘before you exchange time for eternity?’ He raised the Athame. Askphrit did not even try to escape; he seemed transfixed by Denny’s gaze, like a deer in the headlights.
‘What no quips?’ jeered Denny. ‘No funny remarks? Not even a wholly inadequate attempt at justification? Well!’
‘Don’t gloat dear – it’s not in good taste.’
Denny spun round. ‘Explanations later,’ said Tamar. ‘For now, just wait.’
‘Wait? Wait for what?’ He raised the Athame again.
‘No don’t kill him. There’s really no need – isn’t that right?’ she addressed a cloaked figure which had emerged from the shadows in the corner. It nodded silently.
‘He deserves a fate worse than death,’ Tamar continued, ‘and that’s exactly what I’ve arranged for him.’
The figure threw back his hood and stalked over to Askphrit who suddenly found his voice.
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