by Kim Falconer
As he checked her for wounds, a siren wailed in the distance, and security troops closed in, their boots circling the body as he knelt on the ground. Where did they come from?
‘You found her,’ the captain said, out of breath. ‘Medics are behind us.’
‘I only just paged.’ It didn’t make sense, but his reflexes took over. He had a patient in crisis. ‘Back up. Let them through.’
Had the troops been tracking her? Had he? Or was it coincidence that he’d stumbled upon this scene? Whenever he tried to recall how he got here, he ran into a wall—thick and impervious.
‘Is she all right, doctor?’ The captain crouched beside him, being careful not to touch her as Everett rolled her onto her side. His voice was more concerned than aggressive. Perhaps she was a missing person and not a criminal.
He hoped so, for her sake. ‘She needs oxygen, cardiac stimulants.’ He checked her stats.
The captain went to the ambulance as it arrived. Everett listened for breath sounds. There were none, and the woman’s lips were turning blue. He laid her flat, tilted her head back and pinched her nose, filling her lungs with his own air. Her chest rose and fell, the cloth of her dress wafting open in the breeze.
Chills raced over him, like tiny ants up his spine. He stifled a gasp and covered her with his jacket. He gave her more breaths and her pulse increased, though her eyes did not open, nor did they focus when he pushed back the lids. He shivered. There was no such thing as déjà vu—he refused to consider it—but the undeniable feeling was that this had all happened before. He shook his head, trying to revive the memory.
Not this, but something like this. He didn’t know the image, the winged lion over her heart, but he knew without searching the archives that it was called a tattoo. The idea worried the edges of his memory, pushing the wall barricading his recollection. He almost caught hold of it before it slipped out of reach. He’d had a patient like this once, long ago. ‘Oxygen!’ he called.
A medic approached with a small cylinder.
‘Mask her, wide open.’ Everett stepped aside as the medics took over, strapping her to a board. They loaded her onto the ambulance and signalled him, but he caught himself staring out into the parkland. He located a rocky outcropping in the distance. He wanted to look for something, but what?
‘We’re ready, doctor.’
He jumped in, and the ambulance took off, the sound of the siren ringing in his ears.
‘Straight to Trauma?’ the driver asked through the com.
‘Side entrance,’ he said, checking her pulse again, bracing as the vehicle rounded a bend.
The medic ran a hand-held scanner over her wrist and frowned. He scanned the nape of her neck. ‘Where is it?’ He leaned over her, scanning her entire body. He tapped the scanner against his palm and scanned again. Then he scanned his own wrist and his brow creased further. ‘Here’s a first,’ he said, pulling off her shoes and scanning her feet.
‘What’s that?’
‘No chip, doc.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘Check for yourself.’ He handed Everett the device. ‘It must have been removed.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Everett checked her head to toe. In all his years of medical service, he’d never had a patient without ID. He swallowed. Or had he? His memory swelled and receded like the ocean. Was there someone like this when he was an intern? Before he’d taken over the trauma ward? He would have to check the records, but he was starting to feel certain of it. ‘Odd.’ Everett scanned the inside of his own wrist. ‘I don’t believe it, but you’re right. No ID.’
‘How do you want me to label the record?’
‘Jane Doe,’ he whispered.
‘Say again?’ The medic had his fingers on the small digital keyboard, poised to type in the filename.
Everett cleared his throat. ‘Call her Jane Doe.’
GAELA & EARTH—TIME: FORWARD
CHAPTER 36
Teg pelted towards the stables, kicking up gravel as he crossed the driveway. He hadn’t thought about shifting. It just happened automatically. I’m coming, Kali, he called out to her, skidding to a stop before rounding the stables.
I still can’t shift. Her voice was stronger in his mind. He’s got me.
In a fluid motion Teg changed back into human form. He took a deep breath and turned the corner, running straight into Jago coming out of the aviary. He had Kali on his wrist. Her hood was off, her wings half open and a set of leather jesses on her legs. Jago startled. He looked past Teg for a fleeting second before focusing on him.
Kali let out an ear-piercing screech and fanned the air with her wings, dipping her head to bite at the restraints. He’s called up the Treeon guards. Released a pigeon. There’re a dozen riders coming this way. We’ve got to get out.
I hear them, Kali!
‘What’s the trouble, lad?’ Jago asked. The words were light but his voice tense. He took a step back, lifting the arm that held Kali.
Teg stared at the jesses. ‘She’s a wild bird, not one of your own.’
‘Are you trying to tell me my business?’
‘If you’re keeping her captive, I am.’
‘She’s wounded. It’ll take her time to recover.’
He’s stalling, Teg. He knows what I am. Quick! Treeon comes!
Teg didn’t flinch, though his heart beat double time. He could feel the vibration of galloping hooves rising up his legs. He lifted his nose to scent their direction. They were surrounded. ‘She needs to come with me.’ Teg stepped forward. ‘She’s recovered from her shock. She can be released.’
‘Not going to happen,’ Jago said, his voice finding more volume, though he continued to retreat. ‘You’ll see in a moment that the temple guards of Treeon are coming. You’ll not take the raptor in any case.’
Teg was impressed. Whether Jago knew he faced a Lupin or not, he was brave to make such a stand. Brave and foolish. His sentiments were misplaced.
‘She’s with me,’ Teg said. ‘I apologise for deceiving you, but the falcon is mine.’ He held out his bare arm to Kali.
She extended her wings fully and fanned the air. Jago hung on tight to the jesses, keeping her back.
‘So you say. You also might say you had nothing to do with the temple murder. Neither is necessarily true.’
The dogs let out a throaty challenge as horses filled the driveway. He heard Lily and Jess shouting. Boots marched towards them. Teg levelled his eyes on Jago. ‘I’ll take her now and be going. You have no more say in this.’
Jago held his ground. Teg didn’t want to hurt him, but he was out of time.
Get on with it, Teg, before I do!
He defocused his eyes and drew in the energy around him, honing it to a fine point. He sent it straight to Jago’s mind like a quick zap of lightning.
Kali flapped away as Jago stumbled backward and dropped to the ground, the jesses sliding out of his hand. She landed on Teg’s wrist.
That wasn’t so hard, was it? She sounded pleased.
‘No, Mistress. That’s what scares me. It isn’t hard at all.’
It’s okay, Teg. You had the right touch. He’s not dead, just disabled. Look at his aura.
‘I can’t actually see his aura right now.’
Something to work on.
He turned to Jago, who was struggling to lift his head. ‘Sorry, sir. We thank you for your hospitality.’ He quickly undid the ties on Kali’s legs and dropped them to the ground. He checked the wounds. ‘And your healing skills,’ he added, ‘but we’ve got to be on our way.’
‘Who are you?’ Jago looked from him to the raptor and back.
‘A falconer, like you.’
‘And a murderer?’
‘You’re still alive, are you not?’
Enough, Teg. Let’s go, Kali screeched.
He ducked under the railing and headed towards the fringing woods as two temple guards came around the corner of the stables, swords drawn.
‘Halt!�
� one said, rushing forward.
Two more guards appeared at the opposite end of the breezeway, blocking that exit.
Can you fly, Kali?
Can you run?
Teg launched Kreshkali with an upward thrust of his arm and sprang over the railing, landing on all fours.
‘Lupin!’ one of the guards yelled.
‘Get the horses. He’s headed for the woods.’
Teg didn’t linger to hear the rest. The captain was barking louder than the dogs—clearly unnerved. He hoped the momentary confusion would give him a good head start. He sprinted through the paddocks and out into a field of grazing broodmares. The horses parted in front of him like a river diverting, heads high and ears back. The dogs were close behind and gaining. He called on a boost of energy and charged up the grade, keeping Kreshkali in his sights as she flew overhead. That’s when he saw the eagle. Mistress! Above you.
I’ve got it. Keep running. The portal is south-west.
He turned left.
No, Teg! The other way.
He cut to the right, glancing up in time to see the grey raptor above her drop into a dive. It let out a shrill cry. Mistress, look out.
If it hit her at that speed, she’d be knocked to the ground, killed instantly. She couldn’t shift midair. That was certain death if she couldn’t shift back before losing too much altitude. He didn’t think shifting would help anyway. The eagle looked like it could drop a horse. Teg slowed his pace while he watched. Mistake. A tracker dog sank its teeth into his hind leg before he knew it was on him.
Teg spun around snarling, the pain like a hot knife. Temple guards were riding hard through the pastures, jumping the fences and gaining speed as they chased him up the hill. They would try to cut him off before he reached the cover of the woods. He wasn’t going to let that happen.
With his mind focused, he sent a blast of energy towards the lead dog and launched at its throat. His teeth sank into muscle and he shook the creature like a rag doll. It collapsed to the ground, unmoving. Two other dogs had caught up and both leapt to attack him.
Back off, canines! He screamed at them in his mind, sending a charge of power with the message. It scorched them and they dropped mid-launch. He risked a quick look skyward. Kali was above the eagle, darting east, outmanoeuvring it.
Get out of there! she yelled to him, her call ringing shrilly over the valley.
Riders cut him off from the west, forcing him to turn straight southward. Perfect. He boosted his legs with every bit of energy he had left, charging towards the cover of the woods. Hooves were churning behind him. He could hear the laboured breathing of both animal and rider about to overtake him. He plunged into the darkness of the pine trees as the lead rider’s blade swiped his flank. A new pain shot up his spine and hot drops of blood spattered his face.
Kali whistled overhead. He couldn’t see her any more, but her call was anger. Not a death knell. Keep to this side of the creek, Teg. Do you see it?
I’ve got it.
Are you hurt?
Somewhat.
Keep running, Teg. You’re almost there.
The eagle?
Not a problem. Run.
Teg winced as he scrambled over boulders and fallen trees that lined the babbling stream, sharp pains shooting through his side. He stumbled and slipped on the moss-covered rocks.
The horses have stopped, but the dogs are still behind you. Kali’s voice filled his mind.
The canines were indeed back on his trail, no longer cowered. He heard them gaining, and also sensed the riders on foot, charging after them. His own blood was making the way easy to follow. The portal had better be near. He didn’t feel he had much energy left.
It’s just up the rise. Keep running.
Teg stopped short, staring at the sheer cliff in front of him. It was taller than an ancient redwood, at a ninety-degree angle to the creek. You call that a rise? Kali, it’s a fifty-foot high cliff. How in the demon’s dance do I get up there?
Climb!
Teg leapt, forcing his legs to scramble, ignoring the shooting pain and the burning of his lungs. Somehow he found purchase, lunging from shelf to outcropping until he crested the top, shale and rocks dropping down on the dogs below. They jumped and slid and yapped but could not follow.
Do you recognise the portal? Kali asked.
He loped into the clearing. I do now. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time when he saw Kreshkali, her dress wafting in the breeze, her arms crossed as she stood in front of the entrance. Her hair clung to her forehead and she pushed it off her face, her smile radiant. He bounded towards her and shifted, ignoring the searing pain that redoubled in his left leg and hip. He reached her, falling into open arms. For a moment, everything stopped. The sound of the stream, the distant hooves over the forest loam, the baying of the tracker dogs, the wind through the trees—all went mute. He could no longer hear the birds, the leaves or the sway of branches overhead. The only thing he knew was the pounding of his heart, or was that hers? He couldn’t tell the difference.
Her arms were around him, the line of her hip pressed tight against his side and her hands on his neck, fingertips tangled in his hair. They took one breath together before she released him.
‘There you are,’ a woman said. ‘I was hoping to catch you.’
An avalanche of sounds returned as the world started up again. He spun round to the portal. A woman stood in front of it, blocking their way.
‘Haven’t you had enough of us, Le Saint?’ Kali’s voice was calm.
‘Not quite, and certainly not enough of him.’ She pointed a finger at Teg and an eagle feather fell from the hem of her sleeve.
Drop her, Teg, before she sees it coming.
Kali’s words were so pervasive, he didn’t hesitate. He built a blast of energy in silence, feeling it fill his mind and rush down his arms. He held it in, to the point of bursting.
‘Where are the others?’ Le Saint asked.
She was oblivious to his summoning.
‘Why don’t you come with us and I’ll show you?’ Kali said.
For a second the other woman faltered. She hadn’t expected that.
Now! Kali shouted into his mind.
Teg sent a searing bolt of energy to Le Saint so fast she could never have caught it in time. It would hit the side of her mind—splashing into her consciousness, scrambling her memory and balance, short-circuiting her thoughts. It would have, that is, if she hadn’t had a shield up. He conjured every last bit of his reserves to cut through.
Stop, Teg. She’s down. Don’t kill her.
The last thing he remembered was Kali pulling him into the portal, the temple guards shouting behind him. In the cool darkness of the corridors, he collapsed to the ground.
EARTH—TIME: CIRCULAR
CHAPTER 37
Everett stared at the walls. They were old, but not as old as he was. Their plaster, like the skin over his bones, had been scraped smooth, reapplied and retextured again and again. The finished look never reclaimed his youthful vigour. There was no rosy glow, but it covered the cracks and filled the pits. Behind it stood Everett. What stood behind the walls, he didn’t know.
At one time his centuries had seemed like an attribute, but not any more. Things had changed. The cracks reappeared. He followed one now as it meandered through the pale green plaster. It stopped just short of the clock. He let his eyes adjust, waiting for the second hand to catch up. He cleared his throat.
‘Time of death, 1.05 p.m.’
The room was silent save for the drone of the heart monitor, a flat line running across the black screen. Someone took the paddles out of his hands and flipped off the switch. No one else moved. Faces edged his peripheral vision, silent, twitching. A dam of questions was about to burst and he was the only one standing in the causeway. They’d need his direction and he had to give it to them, but his mind felt frozen, his body numb.
He took off his glasses, pinching the furrow between his eyes. Now it made
sense, but it didn’t lessen his disorientation. It didn’t make it any easier to do what must be done. He polished the lenses with the edge of his scrub shirt and replaced them, the room coming back into focus. No one would understand a death, but they had to learn. It was time for them all to face it.
It’s keeping them trapped. Can’t you see that now? Her voice rang in his head, though he knew it was only a memory. She said she wouldn’t hang around after. After death? He didn’t blame her. With the images of life in other worlds, vibrant worlds where he’d made other choices, filling his mind like a multi-digital display, who would? She’d shown them to him to offer encouragement and to help him understand. He did, now. He also understood the austerity and poverty of this world. Not a poverty of nutrition, but of the soul. Who would stay in a place so devoid of spirit, a place where the inhabitants were all but robotic replicas of human expression? That’s what she’d called him, and the label made him weep.
A replica of human expression. He shook his head. No one had predicted that their ‘fountain of youth’ would turn into a prison, a place where souls, over time, would fade, losing their lustre for life, love and happiness. Worse still, it happened so slowly, so insidiously, that no one noticed. No one cared. They were going to live forever in a confinement of their own making, never acknowledging they were architect as well as inmate.
She had told him, though. She had made him see. Without words or narrative she had delivered the images. She’d put them straight into his mind—pictures of trees and flowers and forests, of four-legged creatures like Canie, and some not like him at all, of fish and frogs and fleas. She’d shown him glorious weather patterns, sunsets and mountain peaks. And he had heard their sounds. Angelic music, voices, wind blowing spray from the crest of waves, birds, whales, whispers and wolves—everything missing from his world, this choice, for so long it was forgotten. His Earth had become a cadaver, a ghost town with windows shuttered and streets abandoned, nothing but dust and debris tumbling past—and he was the dust and debris. They all were. This was no way to live a life, let alone an eternity.
