The Time Mechanic

by Victoria Bastedo

  The Time Mechanic~ © Copyright 7-14-18 Victoria Bastedo

  ISBN-13: 978- 1723100222; ISBN-10: 1723100226

  All Names, Characters and Unusual Events in this book are Fictitious Words Dreamed up by the Author. Any Resemblance to Real Events or Places, Organizations or Real People, Living or Dead, is not by Intent Placed in the Book by the Author. No Part of this Book may be Reproduced or Transmitted except by Permission from the Author, including Photocopying, Electronic Transmissions, Recordings or other Reproductions. Published in the United States of America.

  The Time Mechanic

  By Victoria Bastedo

  Chapter One - (In Which Jeremy Buys a New Coat)

  There seemed to be plenty of people in Jeremy's way as he wended through the morning crowds of Tonturin. It was a fine day and the air was crisp around him but he didn’t perceive the sights and smells of the market like usual. weaved towards the fountain in the village center, his feet unsteady. Steam poured out of the nostrils of the stone horse cavorting at the edge of the fountain like snow soup. Thick, the mist curled towards his own nose, so he might breathe it in and it might infect his brain with purpose.

  He paused at the edge of the market, trying to get his bearings. Beside him, a steam-powered vending wagon oozed out the fragrances of over-spiced hot ambrosia, ginger and orange butter crisps, and meaty-veg strips. Breaking past the scents, his mouth felt dry and all he could taste was steam puff. He stumbled over a rounded cobblestone, hard enough to be felt through his boot.

  “Over here!” a stall master bellowed, and he ducked. At last his destination swam in front of him. He realized as he climbed the wooden stairs to the mercantile that he’d be very late returning to his shop and without a word of explanation to his boss. He worried about that as he opened the door to go shopping inside, but he didn’t change course. He had a mission to accomplish; buying just the right coat.

  Twenty minutes later he turned with a swirl and admired himself in the full-length mirror at the back of the mercantile. Not bad. Although he wasn’t an overly handsome man, he was six-feet-tall and built straight. Due to the hours he spent lifting boxes and equipment at the shop his muscles were firm but not huge. The coat, which fell to just a few inches above his ankles, smoothed away any imperfections of his figure and broadened the line of his shoulders to comfortably broad instead of just reaching it. The leather of the coat was supple and the brown shading was worn to multicolored surety. The coat cinched in at his back and fell to its majestic length.

  “Splendid,” he murmured, handing the clerk every last coin in his wallet. No buying food for the rest of the week but no matter! He strode out of the mercantile with his head held high. In this coat he could accomplish anything; any mission of danger or portent that might come his way. He felt invincible; that is until he again crossed by the large fountain in the middle of town.

  The fountain, with its pretty bowl and spurt of water; its marble benches and arched palisades was lauded as one of the most beautiful village centers in this part of the country. His shop was among the most important in town, and it operated in one of the original stone buildings. He loved to cross by the fountain every morning at dawn on his way to work. He was proud of his recent promotion, that of head assistant shopkeeper.

  But now, as he passed the fountain his brain was speared with a flash of light that exploded all his thoughts into submission. The steam he breathed in hurt, but more, it felt strange as if his brain was being heated and rearranged. He clutched his head and fell to his knees next to the bronze plaque that decorated the center of the square with Tonturin’s own folk tale. Only this adventure story was real, and the heroes that colored the city’s timeline of history actually existed. Opening his eyes all he could see were the words inscribed on the plaque.

  ‘Not the fairest, the wealthiest, or the mighty one full of hate;

  One can have a humble profession yet complete a noble fate;

  Not the shining star at the table or the envious in the shade;

  It’s from ordinary friends that Time Mechanics are made.’

  ‘Not skirmishes; nor pestilences, battles or politics;

  These problems are for all humanity to fix;

  Time Mechanics come to mend the world’s pain;

  They arise from the steam; then find obscurity again.’

  “Ow,” he moaned, wishing the letters of the poem weren’t each trying to bore into his skull…

  “Jeremy, you all right?” he heard sometime later. He felt someone’s hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes slowly and realized he was still holding his head. “Jeremy, what’s the matter?” the voice stressed again. He thought it was a familiar voice but he couldn’t seem to remember… “Jeremy!”

  “Mmwha…” he said. A face suddenly crouched down to his level; gray-blue eyes and dark bristling beard shadow. A hook nose that was slightly off at the tip as if it had been broken sometime in the past. He tried very hard to bring an answer to his mind. “Mars?” he asked.

  “Yes, why are you down here on the ground? Does your head hurt?”

  He thought about it. “Yes… I mean, no.”

  “Well, yes or no, man? Here, rise from your knees.”

  He was hauled to his feet but the world spun around.

  “Whoa, Jeremy, hold yourself up.” Mars told him. “It’s good I happened to be passing by. The fountain circle is empty right now and no one to help you but me. Otherwise I wouldn’t have spoken to you— since I know you don’t want me to.”

  Jeremy tried to follow the path of the man’s words. His old friend Mars… why would he assume that he wouldn’t want to speak to him?

  “The fountain…” he mumbled. “Be careful, Mars…”

  “Here, come on. I’m taking your arm now, Jeremy. There’s a doctor located just down that street remember— a few doors down from your shop?”

  “The shop… my boss…”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll speak to him and tell him where you are.”

  Mars was helping him to the doctor, for he couldn’t seem to find his way by himself. The obvious conclusion took a moment to make sense. Mars was going to fix his absence with his boss. Mars would do that since they were old friends… but Jeremy remembered something.

  “We’ve been estranged,” he said. “You haven’t spoken to me for a year and a half.”

  “Better that way, isn’t it, Jeremy? After what happened between me and your fiancé it was obvious you never wanted to look at me again.”

  Jeremy tried but he had no idea what had occurred in the past between them. He tripped over the curbstones and Mars kept a strong arm under his elbow until he could stumble forward again.

  “Sorry,” Jeremy gasped.

  “Here we are,” Mars said a few moments later, opening a wide brown door and helping him inside. Soon Jeremy sat on an examination table, holding his head and trying to think around the ball of something that seemed to be obscuring his mental vision.

  “It’s got substance,” he said in a thick voice.

  “Jeremy?” Mars’ voice interrupted his efforts. “Why don’t you lie down until the doctor comes in to help you?”

  Jeremy fell back prone on the table with a grunt. He closed his eyes and let the ball of light blind him. The invasive pressure of weight in his brain was like a pill too large to swallow. He gave in and let it envelop him. With a burst he disappeared into sleep.

  When he woke up he knew why he’d bought the coat.

  He was the new Time Mechanic.

  He admitted to himself that he’d never fully believed in the legend but the knowledge was so strong he had no doubt now.

  Five hundred years ago marked the ending of the World-Bending Wars— a set of battles so devastating to t
he human population and the land and towns they lived in that it took another hundred years to recover. After that awful time ten new cities were built around the world, and the first of the Time Mechanics arose.

  Always the Time Mechanics were just ordinary citizens that everyone knew; a friend or neighbor one moment and a hero or heroine tasked with saving present day from turning into a devastating history lesson the next.

  Yet those mechanics of the past, they knew things. Where to go. Who was behind the source of the trouble; and most importantly, how to stop them— thereby realigning the course of mankind’s timeline into the peaceful progression it was meant to journey through.

  Jeremy frowned. He’d woken up and was so certain he was the Time Mechanic it was as if the knowledge had been welded into his mind. He had no idea why he was needed though… at least not yet…

  Murmuring voices approached and the sound distinguished into words.

  “Well, doctor, I hope all is well with him then,” he heard Mars say from out in the hallway by his door.

  “But wait, you can’t leave,” the doctor said. “I have no one on record that’s responsible for him. His parents are long dead, isn’t that so? Since he was a young teenager?”

  “He has an uncle.”

  “His uncle isn’t here and it would take some time to send for him.”

  “Well Jeremy doesn’t want me on the list, I can guarantee that,” Mars growled.

  The sound of their voices crept out of his room and disappeared once more down the hallway.

  Jeremy sighed. Mars was incorrect if he thought Jeremy didn’t like him anymore. He and Mars had been best friends since they were five years old. But when you have history such as that and a woman comes between you; well, Jeremy may have overreacted when he told Mars he didn’t want to see him again.

  The truth was that Mars couldn’t be blamed for everything that happened with Fiasca. The man hadn’t done anything but be friendly and accept the advent of Jeremy’s fiancé into their circle with open arms.

  Too open. Fiasca had seemed to like getting a warm, shoulder-pounding hug from Mars and insisting upon receiving it whenever she greeted or said goodbye to him.

  Jeremy stood up. He was a little dizzy but he ignored that and adjusted his new coat. The reassuring weight of it felt good. He hurried down the hall making sure the broad shoulders of his coat didn’t scrape the door as he left. Once outside in the curved alleyways of Tonturin he breathed a sigh of relief.

  He walked back into his shop and his boss gave him a raised eyebrow, so Jeremy knew that Mars hadn’t had the time to come and speak for him. He went to the coat cupboard and hung away his new coat with regret. He didn’t like relieving himself of the comforting warmth of it. Yet that signal meant his boss was annoyed but he’d never say so in front of a customer. Nemeth was only eight years older than Jeremy and yet he ruled this large shop as if he were a king running a small country. The showcase rooms stood side to side facing the street, three of them glittering with all sorts of accessories, clothing and tools for woodworking, house repair and animal feed. Jeremy worked in the middle section, with Nemeth and one other employee that came in the mornings. He was ordinarily very proud of his station but today he scuttled in with bowed shoulders and started tidying product in the back corner while Nemeth purred gently at the customer. Luckily the woman he was attending spent quite some time praising the quality of their stock and walked out with a quantity of packages. She left and Jeremy hurried over to explain as soon as she’d disappeared down the street.

  “I’m sorry, Sir, that I stepped out for a while,” he stuttered. “I uh… wasn’t feeling myself.”

  “Well Jeremy, if you need an occasional moment away because you’re indisposed, I understand. But perhaps telling me first might be a good idea from now on?”

  “Yes, of course it is. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you feeling better now? Your face is pale.”

  Jeremy saw concern in the man’s eyes. And it made sense. This wasn’t the way he’d ever acted before. He’d tried hard to never be inconsistent or impolite. He wanted to be an employee his boss could count on. He rubbed his head, for truth be told, he still felt a little strange. But before he could answer the shop door opened. They both turned; a courteous expression on their faces— the service-to-customer façade that fell upon them as naturally as air. But Jeremy’s mask faltered when he realized who it was.

  Mars. His old friend looked awkward for a few seconds and then brushed it off and strode forward.

  “Jeremy, what do you mean by sneaking out of the hospital like that? The doctor was worried you’d gone tottering off and fallen into the fountain.”

  “No, I’m fine, as you can see.”

  “Well it’s not fine at all,” growled Mars. “You’ve got me going back and forth and wondering! I’ve got my own place of business to attend to, you know, and employees needing a break, and there’s the big festival in a few weeks to prepare for!”

  “I never asked you to go anywhere.”

  “Oh, no, you wouldn’t, would you! And yet here I am!”

  “Why don’t you go on your way then?”

  “Blast it, Jeremy! There was something wrong with you just now, I saw it! Besides, that doctor at the hospital made me sign a load of papers saying I’d be responsible for you— pay your bill if need be!”

  “How’d the doctor ‘make’ you do that?”

  “The man guilted me into it.”

  “Well I’m letting you out of it. Thanks for everything but I’m fine.”

  “You’re a bullheaded snout!”

  “You’re a busy, two-faced traitor who…”

  “I never betrayed your trust, Jeremy— don’t dare say so!” Mars bellowed. “The other way around more like!”

  “Like when I asked you if you were having any troubles with my fiancé and you lied to me, or perhaps when I walked in and discovered you kissing her?”

  “She was kissing me, I’ve told you that over and over!”

  “Oh, yes, poor giant Mars; accosted by a woman half his size!”

  “You wretch! I’d bust you for that if you weren’t such a…”

  “Gentlemen,” yelled Jeremy’s boss, loud enough to interrupt. It was obvious he’d tried to get their attention before and had to raise his voice this time to achieve it. Jeremy stepped back in surprise, breathing hard. He stared at Nemeth in horror. What had he been doing! This past year and a half, since he’d lost Fiasca’s regard, he’d put his all into this job! He’d hoped to prove to himself that he could still accomplish his goals in life, that he could work his way up and save his money and…

  “I’m sorry,” he stuttered to his employer.

  “Now, Jeremy,” the man managed to reply in a calm voice, “You told me you weren’t feeling yourself today and that certainly seems to be true. But your friend here said there was also something wrong with you? Were you really at the doctor’s or was that an exaggeration?”

  “Well I…”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s possible I may have uh… blanked out for a moment.”

  “He was out cold, Nemeth,” put in Mars. Jeremy remembered that his boss and Mars were also acquaintances. “For a quarter of an hour anyway.”

  “That sounds serious,” Nemeth said. “What did the doctor say about it?”

  “He said he was planning to examine him further but Jeremy here woke up, snuck off and left me holding the problem in my hands.”

  They both turned and stared at him, and Jeremy felt nothing but confusion. Mars had a shop too, almost as big as Nemeth’s. Mars was successful, where Jeremy wasn’t. Mars with his huge physique and his gravel voice and women dancing attendance— and standing next to his successful boss— these two were alike in a way. Perhaps that’s why he’d gravitated towards working for Nemeth in the first place. He breathed out frustration. Had he blamed Mars unfairly for what had occurred in the past?

  “Forgive me that I argued with Mars here in you
r shop, sir,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll settle accounts with him and return. Then all will go back to calm before any customers come in. Mars, we’ll step out back.”

  “If you’re sure you’re all right, Jeremy” said Nemeth. “If you need some time to be ill or to see the doctor some more…”

  “No. I’m fine, really; besides there are just a few hours before closing time.”

  Jeremy gestured with his chin at Mars and the two of them passed out of the shop’s sales floor and through the back office, and just in time. Jeremy heard the shop door open as they dropped the office curtain into place behind them.

  “Good afternoon,” Jeremy heard Nemeth say to whatever customer had stopped in. But he and Mars went outside the back door into the alleyway behind the shop. He shut them out and schooled his expression to look calm. He turned with the intention to keep his inner turmoil to himself.

  “Ah, there it is,” grumbled Mars. “That closed-off look on your face, just like you showed me a year and a half ago.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “When you intend to give nothing away and when you don’t mean to budge an inch. I remember the first time you really showed it to me. When we were teenagers and you got mysteriously injured but you wouldn’t say how no matter how much everyone pressured you! I learned long ago not to bother arguing with you when you looked at me like that.”

  Jeremy flashed him a look. Mars sounded fed up with him. There was another thing that Jeremy had to say but he stuttered with awkward humility. He forced the words out. “Uh… thank you for trying to help back there by the fountain.”

  “It’s fine. Goodbye, Jeremy,” Mars said, turning on his heel and walking off down the alley. Jeremy could see it in his stiff back and shoulders that Mars was aggravated. For the first time in a year and a half Jeremy wondered if he’d lost Mars as a friend forever. And, also for the first time he realized something else. He didn’t want to. Fiasca had moved on and gotten a new paramour which took her to wealthier circles of friends. Even though she still lived in Tonturin he never saw her anymore. He’d felt a flash of pain and humiliation back when she’d broken it off that’d passed after two nights at the nearest tavern.