by Lory Kaufman
“It was only for a kiss.”
“Long live love,” another shouted. Thousands muttered their approvals.
“Quiet, please,” came Demos’s voice.
The image of Shamira and Kingsley reanimated. It showed them turn as the bloodied Ugilino came into view and ran right through them. The image cross-dissolved into the frozen scene of the wagon, showing Feltrino holding up Guilietta by the neck and the hulking Kingsley, running, head down, arms out, ready to plow into the Gonzaga prince.
“Kingsley,” Elder Barnes began. “Your transgression was greater. Not only did you disobey Elder Arimus’s instruction by making a small temporal opening, you actually came full-bodied into the past and attacked a person from the 14th-century. This is a gross contravention of time travel protocol.”
As Elder Barnes spoke, the frozen image started moving at quarter speed, turning the attack on Feltrino into a slow-motion ballet, with Kingsley’s massive arms and legs pumping, his bent shoulder in perfect position to take Feltrino down. The crowd went eerily silent as Feltrino was slammed into. His arms slowly flailed outward, causing him to lose his grip on Guilietta. She seemed to float through the air and disappear into the wagon. Kingsley’s arms wrapped around Feltrino, pinioning his arms, and then he fell upon him with all his weight. They bounced several times on the hard cobblestones. As the image faded, the silence was broken.
“He did it for love!” a woman’s voice shouted from the crowd.
“Feltrino deserved it,” another screamed, which was followed by the sound of tens of thousands of feet stomping in agreement.
“Please. Please. Please be quiet,” Elder Cynthia Barnes shouted, but the crowd wouldn’t listen. “May I remind you that people from the past are not fictional characters to be judged by us. They are creatures of their own times . . .”
“SCREW FELTRINO!” a man at the front of the audience screamed, to which a large part of the audience laughed and kept stomping their feet. Most of the people on the Council looked frustrated, except for Elder Cassian, who was snoring. The meeting had ground to a halt.
Hansum looked at Lincoln and winked. “It’s time to use our pop-ularity,” he whispered. He stood and faced the crowd, raised his arms and gestured for everyone to quiet down. Amazingly, they complied. As the theatre went silent, Hansum put his hands together in thanks and gave a small bow.
“I love you, Hansum!” a female voice cried. Hansum ignored this and took his seat. He had not only received thousands of letters of support and condolences from all over the globe, but also proposals of marriage.
“To continue,” Elder Barnes said. “The question is what, if any, punishment should be given for transgressing important rules, taking into consideration that you are novices who have not received your first licenses yet. Before we give our decision, do either of you wish to make a statement? Shamira?”
Shamira stood up. A large holographic image of her head appeared above the stage. She looked up and winced. “It, it was a mistake,” she said quietly. “We were taking our visit too lightly. Now that I have more training, I can better understand the consequences of my actions. If I receive another chance, I assure you similar mistakes will not happen.” Shamira sat down again.
“Thank you,” Elder Barnes said. “I should add for full transparency, I was the elder who greeted Shamira and the others when they first met at History Camp Verona 1347, where the adventure that so many people have watched, started. I’d like to say that I am impressed how Shamira has matured and become a valuable member of society. Now, Kingsley.” Kingsley stood. “While you are from the future, you have declined the option to be judged by elders of your own time and agreed to be bound by our decisions. Do you have anything to say?”
Kingsley stood tall and relaxed, but did not appear cocky. “Nothing to add, but I just want to reiterate that I take full responsibilities for my actions. Although, like Shamira, now that we have had more training, I can guarantee that something similar won’t happen again. Also, I am accepting your judgment in hopes of not being sent back to my home when time travel begins again. I don’t want to be separated from Shamira. I am deeply in love with her and it is my most fervent hope that we are not parted.”
A sympathetic sigh was heard from thousands in the crowd and some began to shout.
“Long live love through time!” and “Kingsley!” and “Shamira!”
“Quiet please,” Demos cried, coming center stage again. “Quiet! Quiet!”
“You may sit, Kingsley,” Elder Barnes said. Kingsley bowed slightly, sat back down and took Shamira’s hand, which brought another wave of “Ahhhhhs,” from the crowd. Elder Barnes continued. “The decision of this Council was split, and therefore needed to be voted on by our A.I. advisors.” You could see Elder Parmatheon Olama scowl and mutter something unintelligable. The A.I., Demos, floated forward to whisper something in Parmatheon’s ear, but the human pushed him away.
“As for Shamira,” Elder Barnes started. “It has been decided you did not have proper training before going back in time, but you did disobey the direct and simple instructions given to you. Your punishment is this; when time travel begins again, you will be prohibited from going on any missions to the past . . . for one month.”
Half the crowd booed, thinking the sentence was too light, the other half cheered, seeing it as a light slap on the wrist. The teens on the stage smiled, Shamira looking relieved.
“As for Kingsley,” Elder Barnes continued. The crowd became silent and Shamira looked anxious again. “The Council believes you too should have been better trained before being taken back. But you did attack a person from the past, and it was not in self-defense. For this you will not be allowed to travel back in time for the length of . . . three months after time travel begins again.” Again, half the crowd complained and the other was happy.
“Quiet, quiet!” Demos shouted over the crowd, but they didn’t seem to hear.
“Elder Barnes?” Shamira’s voice barely carried across the stage.
“Yes, Shamira?” Shamira was looking at the elder with such pleading concern, her question was obvious. The elder smiled. “Don’t worry, Shamira. When time travel resumes, Kingsley will not be required to go home. He can stay and live, as will be the right of all people of modernity. The Council has confirmed a law that people of any time travel age can live wherever and whenever they choose.”
With those words, Shamira and Kingsley leapt up and embraced. The crowd roared their approval.
“Quiet, quiet,” Demos shouted. “Quiet, please. We haven’t finished. We haven’t finished the Council’s rulings.”
The arena slowly became quieter, though not silent.
“Thank you, citizens,” Elder Barnes said. “I know everybody is reacting more enthusiastically these days as our society is going through a great change. But please, restrain yourselves. As for Hansum and Lincoln’s part in what went on; Lincoln and his mind-delver mentor, Medeea . . . is Medeea here?” Lincoln nodded and looked over to his side, putting his hand out like he was touching something. “Good,” the elder said. “Both of you acted in full accordance with your responsibilities and no fault was found with either of you. We wish you well on your training and hope you will find satisfaction in any time travel you experience in the future.” Lincoln beamed at Medeea and nodded to the elders as applause and shouts resumed throughout the complex.
“Lincoln!” a few female voices shouted.
“Call me!” a lone girl called out. “I’m real!”
“Quiet please, quiet!” Demos cried.
“As for Hansum,” Elder Barnes continued.
“Hansum, Hansum, Hansum!” many in the crowd chanted.
“Hansum was under much stress because of seeing his wife being attacked . . .” Elder Cynthia said with some compassion.
“Boo!” shouted the faction in the crowd who thought Hansum was being put through unnecessarily harsh situations. “I love you, Hansum!” shouted another lone female voice.
“No fault was found with any of your actions. Since then, you have shown a most amazing recovery from your wounds, and I would like to add that you have scored highest in all your time travel classes. We wish you well in your pursuits.”
“No thanks to Arimus!” someone cried.
“And as for Arimus . . .” Elder Barnes paused. The crowd, amazingly, went almost completely quiet. “For comment on his part in the matter, I pass the floor to my 31st-century colleague, Elder Cassian Olama.” The old man did not stir. “Elder Cassian Olama?” Finally Elder Barnes tapped him physically on the shoulder. He bounced awake and shouted.
“Come to order! Come to . . .” and then realized where he was. He looked at Arimus, who touched his own temple.
“Oh yes, our . . . my decision.”
“No crosstalk!” said the younger 24th-century Parmatheon Olama. “Arimus is secretly communicating with a Council member,” he complained.
Old man Olama cleared his throat. “Thank you, Elder . . . Cynthia,” he said slowly. “Charming . . . girl. Charming. I am . . . pleased . . . so pleased to . . . to be here. Anywhere, in fact. As for judgment, umm, on . . . Arimus . . . yes, Arimus . . . um, all is well. No fault found. Proceed, young man . . . carry on,” he said waving his hand dismissively. “Was I to veto something?” and he fell back asleep.
A rumble of disapproving catcalls and crosstalk washed over the amphitheater, including from Elder Parmatheon. He stood up and shouted while pounding the table. Even his own A.I., an oversized soap bubble, came over and begged him to calm down, but Parmatheon poked it while continuing to yell along with the crowd. The bubbly A.I. popped, only to immediately reform itself and keep begging its human to sit. Finally, Elder Barnes spoke very loudly.
“And now for our decision on Hansum’s controversial plan to change history and save Guilietta.” Not surprisingly, the amphitheater went very quiet. “Thank you. Hansum, would you please stand? Thank you. First, let me say that over the past few days, the Council has received millions, millions of messages from all over the planet and beyond, offering comments and opinions on this controversial situation.”
“Save Guilietta!” a lone voice cried from the crowd, followed by a rumble of assenting voices.
“Please, citizens,” Elder Barnes begged. “Give us five minutes. I think most of you will be satisfied.” The crowd relented. “As you know, the 24th-century Time Travel Council is charged with making decisions about what our time travelers can and can’t do. But we are new to this and our associates from the future,” she looked over at the Elder Cassian Olama, who was still gently snoring away, and then at Arimus, “they will not, apparently cannot, give us guidance. This makes our deliberations very difficult, but we press on.
“An application has been put to us by Hansum to go back and make changes to the past, the aim being to save his wife, Guilietta. This raises a great many questions, moral, legal, and practical. Morally, the young lady has been dead for a thousand years, so why is it a question? If we save her, she would still be dead in our time. Legally, though, she is the lawfully-wedded spouse of one of our citizens, and there is international and inter planetary law stating that governments must help a citizen save their legal family. Legal opinion suggests we must transfer this concept to time travel.
“Now, from a practical perspective, Elder Arimus has said his team has tried and failed to save Guilietta della Cappa several times. But Elder Arimus has also commented that Hansum’s proposal has merit, though it also has a high degree chance of changing the future, our present, if it’s not done perfectly. I would now ask Hansum to address this Council and tell us the details of his plan. When we hear it, we shall make our decision. Hansum?”
Hansum rose and faced the Council.
“Thank you Elder Barnes, and thank you to the entire Council for considering my application. I know the situation that my friends and I found ourselves in last year has drawn interest from around the globe, as well as from our settlements in space. We all understand that the true reason for us originally being taken back in time was to help youth everywhere appreciate the hard-won advantages of modernity, and to help society learn not to repeat the mistakes of the past. But there was some unexpected magic that happened when Shamira, Lincoln and I went back in time. We met people and we learned to love them. Me especially. I fell in love . . . with Guilietta.” He said her name and paused, which caused it to resonate in the perfectly constructed amphitheater. Then, without a hint of quaver in his voice he added loudly, “I fell in love with Guilietta and I want to save her as soon as the blackout ends.” You could hear a pin drop in the amphitheater. “So, this is how I propose to save my wife.”
The thirty thousand humans in the amphitheater, over a quarter billion more in their homes, plus every A.I. on the planet, listened in rapt attention to Hansum’s proposal. His unprecedented situation had captured the imagination of the whole of Earth’s sentient population. His plan was a simple one, so didn’t take long to tell.
At the heart of it was the goal of reclaiming lost love. The key was a sacrifice so great, so unselfish and so poignant that, when Hansum finished and took his seat, the crowd was left in shocked silence. The first sounds heard from the audience were a few sobs. Then applause started. Then more. Shouts of “Bravo” and “Brilliant” and “Yes” punctuated the growing din and soon the amphitheater was a roar of clapping, stomping and shouting. Demos came forward to try to calm the crowd. With no success in that regard imminent, Elder Barnes tried to call for a vote. She tapped her temple, trying to communicate with each Council member, but it was apparent that even that was impossible with the tumult around them. She literally couldn’t hear herself think. Finally she got up to solicit each vote individually, which made Elder Parmatheon jump to his feet and dog her heels, making sure she didn’t influence the votes he thought he held. Finally, at the far end of the table, Cynthia Barnes calculated the numbers in her mind, and then walked back to her chair. Parmatheon stomped his foot and scowled, especially at two of the members, and then sat down hard on his seat next to the Council chairwoman.
“The decision has been reached!” Demos shouted to the noisy crowd, and in a few seconds there was a brief oasis of quiet. Elder Barnes stood up.
“The motion for Hansum to execute his plan — has passed eight to four,” she said simply, and then smiled. The crowd went wild again, exploding with a roar even louder than before. The story of Romero and Guilietta had truly captured the imagination of a whole civilization.
Hansum, Shamira, Lincoln and Kingsley jumped out of their chairs and hugged each other. Thousands from the crowds surged forward but were denied access to the stage by a force field. This did not damp-en their enthusiasm. They just stood and continued cheering.
The face of each of the teens was projected above the crowd, each beaming with joy. Hansum directed his friends to hold hands and stand in a line across the stage, then raise their arms in collective victory. The crowd continued to roar and finally Demos gave up trying to quiet the frenzied citizens. Most of the Council members were smiling in amusement, but a few, especially Elder Parmatheon Olama, sat scowling.
Hansum pointed at Arimus, asking him to join them, but Arimus declined with a wave and just stood by Elder Barnes, his hands behind his back, smiling and rocking on his heels.
The applause went on for nearly twenty minutes. Finally, Elder Barnes shouted something into Arimus’s ear and he came to the teens who were still taking in all the adulation.
“I am requested to use my advanced technology
and site transport you away from here.
To Lincoln’s home we’ll disappear.”
Hansum nodded, looked at his companions and smiled. He turned and waved to the crowd, putting his hand to his heart to say thank you, and then he bowed. The teens all put their hands on Arimus’s A.I. robe, waved one last time and, with the roar of the crowd still in their ears, winked away.
>
The silence back in Lincoln’s bedroom was deafening, especially since the teens still vibrated with the energy put out by the exultant throng.
“Now that’s what I call zippy!” Lincoln laughed.
“And that’s what I call understatement,” Kingsley added.
“Congratulations, Hansum,” Shamira said. “You did it.”
Hansum just stood there, his eyes bright and steely, but reserved.
“That was just step one,” he said with conviction. “Now the real work begins.”
“We’re with ya, pal,” Lincoln said. “All the way.”
“What’s next?” Shamira asked.
“We continue training and studying the past recordings of what we went through, making sure our plan is perfect,” Hansum answered. “We do that till the blackout’s over and then we go.”
“If you leave as soon as the blackout ends,” Shamira said, “Kingsley and I won’t be able to go. We’ve been restricted. I’m so sorry, Hansum.”
“Hey, I’ll still need your help training and working out the logistics, if you can make the time from your studies.”
Shamira and Kingsley looked at each other and smiled broadly.
“I’m gonna train you so hard,” Kingsley said, “you might even be in good enough shape to play rugby.”
Chapter 5
Hansum flew through the air, but not for long. The sand greeted his back. Again. And his momentum kept him rolling till he was face down. He looked up, sand sticking to his sweaty face and hoots of laughter ringing in his ears.
“You’re getting better, bro,” Lincoln guffawed, “At landing!”
