The Legend of Dan

by Robert Wingfield

  The chief came up to them, and shooed the guards away. He smiled reassuringly. “Come with me. There is someone who wants to meet you.”

  He led them grandly, through endless corridors, each more splendid than the last. Finally, the doors opened into a sitting room, furnished with the finest objects any of the universes could muster. Tom noticed with relief that there were none of the mucronns on show. There were, however, a few tiny glass lamps and carved figurines, and one of those fish-shaped jugs that make glugging sounds when filled with water.

  “Why are we here?” he asked.

  “To see the Sombre Warrior, of course,” replied the Chief, reverentially. “He wants to express his gratitude, personally.”

  The silvery tinkle of a bell sounded outside the room. “Ah, I must leave you. He is coming.”

  Tom and Suzanne exchanged glances. Then the door at the far side of the room flew open. The powerful hooded figure of the Warrior strode in, his black robes streaming in the air, the respirator he wore making metallic hisses as he breathed. With apprehension, they rose to greet him. The Warrior threw back the cowl. They gasped in horror at the grotesque mask. The Warrior seemed to stare at them for a few seconds and then removed the mask, to reveal clean chiselled features, and a sheepish smile.

  “Er hi.” He stepped forward and shook first Tom, and then Suzanne warmly by the hand. “This is the correct greeting for your people? Forgive me if it isn’t and we just made love. Sorry about the outfit, but one cannot take chances when one’s hobby is bee-keeping, can one? Still, they are interesting pets, are they not? I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Honoured,” stammered Suzanne, “your, er, worship.”

  “Oh, forget all that, you can call me Brad. You would like some tea, would you not?”

  “What, real tea?” Tom raised his eyebrows.

  “Most things are possible here.” Brad rang a small bell, and servants scurried in and around, laying tables and pouring beverages. The Warrior watched them with an indulgent smile, until they withdrew. “Now,” he continued, “how can I show you my gratitude for saving my life, the universe and everything?”

  “I’d rather like to go home,” said Tom. “I’ve got a problem with Time.”

  “I want to go with him.” Suzanne grabbed his arm possessively. “Time is trying to keep us apart. You are on the Edge of Time. Can you do something to put it right?”

  Brad winked at Tom and mouthed, “Feisty. Like it.” Tom had grinned back before he realised. The Warrior continued. “Being on the Edge of Time is all very splendid, don’t you know, but in real terms, the rest of the Universe is a good deal older than when you left. It may not be such a good idea to go back. You never know what you will find.”

  “You mean to say that we are stranded here?” said Suzanne, sharply.

  “Only in the temporal sense.”

  “So we can go back? Good.”

  “From whence you came.”

  “And the temporal sense?”

  “While it is relatively easy to get here, because time and space start and end at this point, the Time Corridor is not really accurate enough to return you to an exact starting point. I mean, we could be out by a bit.”

  “How much of a bit?” queried Tom.

  “Maybe a couple…”

  “Of days, not so bad.”

  “Higher,” said the Warrior.

  “Weeks?” asked Suzanne.

  “A bit more.”

  “Not months, surely?” said Tom. “With all this technology, you must be more accurate than that.”

  “How does a couple of thousand years grab you?”

  There was a long silence.

  “That’s an awful long time,” Tom said, eventually.

  “Enough for the sandwiches in the hamper to go off,” said Suzanne. “What’s the alternative?”

  “You are more than welcome to live here, never age, have a life of luxury, and everything your hearts’ desire.”

  Tom and Suzanne exchanged glances. With a sigh, Tom said, “I still think we ought to go back.”

  Suzanne nodded, and took his hand. “To whatever is there for us. You will make sure the planet is still there, won’t you? I don’t want to drop into an empty bit of space.”

  “It will still be there.” The Warrior clasped his hands behind his back and started pacing up and down the room like an absent-minded schoolmaster. “If you really must. Are you absolutely sure?”

  They nodded.

  “Then I will have the Time Corridor prepared.” He paused and seemed to be making his mind up. “Seeing as you have decided to leave, and won’t cost me any more in accommodation, I would like to give you a little token of my appreciation.” He opened a glass cabinet. “You should each have one of these medals, the highest honour that I can bestow. ‘The Star of Time’ is the key to many things.”

  “Such as?” asked Suzanne.

  Tom cast a perplexed glance at Suzanne. She shrugged.

  Brad exhaled. “You’ll get a 10% discount at Lidwayo’s if you present it on the third Friday of the month,” he said tiredly, “amongst other benefits.” He took out two velvet-covered cases and opened one to reveal an exquisite, gold and platinum, five-pointed star, encrusted with yellow and blue jewels. “You deserve these,” he said. “Sorry, but I must leave now... affairs of state, don’t you know. I would suggest that you get some food and rest, ready for your return journey. After all, whatever time you start, you still could be a bit late. The palace master-suite is now at your disposal, until you are ready to leave.”

  They shook hands again. The Sombre Warrior bowed and disappeared through the door, and servants appeared to show them to a new bedroom. Once inside, they were issued with a map, and a small robot guide to help them find their way to the bed.

  “Nice bloke,” said Tom.

  “I liked him,” agreed Suzanne.

  “Shame you asked about the Star. I thought that was a bit rude.”

  “The money off vouchers will be useful.”

  Tom and Suzanne spent the next few days enjoying everything that being incredibly rich and powerful brings, including trying out the game ‘Posy Pursuit’ from an after-dinner mint chocolate box, and seeing the sights around the citadel. Finally, they had a call to the Time Corridor, and stood at the entrance, waiting for the pre-flight checks to be completed.

  To the astonishment of the technicians, the Sombre Warrior arrived right before they were to leave. He bade them bon voyage.

  “See you again, Brad,” said Suzanne, and gave him a peck on the cheek as he shook hands. The operators gave a cry of horror and rushed to hide behind the marble pillars. Tom dragged Suzanne into the corridor without daring to look at the expression of amusement that flickered over the Warrior’s face.

  “Ciao,” he said, before invisible suction grabbed them, and their bodies, wrapped together, accelerated into the corridor. The yellow wind rushed by them, and finally the sleep, which seemed to be a side effect of travel, took hold. They were hurled unconscious back through space and time in the approximate direction of their original starting point.

  Time Out

  Kara gets new legs.

  The Consortium make a call.

  T

  om regained consciousness first, but the falling sensation seemed to go on. He kept a tight hold of Suzanne, even though they had been told it was not necessary; once the corridor was opened, the destination was guaranteed30, although the actual century of arrival was arbitrary. The plummet seemed to increase in speed. Tom held his breath, shutting his eyes tightly. The wind roared in his ears, louder and louder, and then suddenly, silence.

  A light breeze wafted his face. He felt soft mossy grass underneath him. He breathed again and opened his eyes on a long, shapely pair of legs. He heard the voice he had not expected to hear again, after the last episode.

  “Glad you could drop in at last. Where have you been? We’ve been hanging ar
ound here for aeons, waiting for you to come back.”

  Tom sat up. He was on the purple planet again. Suzanne was curled up beside him, groaning and rubbing her neck. “What a strange dream,” she said.

  As he looked around, Tom saw Vac and Tanda lounging nearby, chewing lengths of grass, and discussing, what he discovered later to be, plans for their return to Skagos. The ancient tree still loomed over them, looking more ancient than ever, but what had originally been a bald grassy sward with purple clouds, was now a vast savannah with purple trees, grass, shrubs, and even a few peaceful-looking wild animals, and purple clouds. He looked quizzically at Kara. She had her hair tied back in a ponytail, and was wearing a light silvery dress, which shimmered around the curves of her body. He noticed the split up the front revealing the best part of her thighs. “Kara, you’re back…”

  “What’s wrong with it?” She craned over her shoulder to see.

  “No, I mean, back in one piece,” he observed superfluously. He studied her with enthusiasm. “The new body suits you.”

  “I thought you’d like it. You might have noticed that my legs are slightly longer. I hoped you would appreciate it.”

  “Can’t say I had,” said Tom, with a sideways glance at Suzanne.

  “I had them lengthened, for your pleasure. It’s the new style, you know. Oh, I’ve got something for you.”

  “What?” said Tom, in what he hoped was a nonchalant voice.

  She handed him a piece of paper.

  “I can’t read it.”

  “It’s the bill for the overdue return of the Jeeeep,” said Kara. “I think you may have had it a few thousand years too long. Luckily for you, in that time, the civilisation has fallen and risen and fallen again. I forget who’s in charge now–it could be those lizards over there.”

  “What, really?”

  “Don’t be stupid, she’s tweaking your appendage,” said Suzanne. “Stop fooling, Kara, that’s my job.”

  “I hoped to cushion the shock,” said Kara. “A bit of light relief.”

  “Again, that’s my bloody job,” said Suzanne. “Look, who are you, really?” What are you bloody robots doing with my galaxy?”

  “We are not robots!” Kara looked insulted. “I belong to a race known as the Gynoids of Time.”

  “So who are they, when they’re on Sapristi?” said Tom.

  “Name’s changed now,” said Kara. “The latest rulers have gone a bit bureaucracy-mad. The place is now known as ‘Fukedds’ by everyone except the government. No point in me explaining, I’m afraid. We have to get going. Come on. Our transport is up there on the hill.”

  Tom scowled. “There you go again. We’re not moving until we...” he cast a glance at Suzanne.

  She nodded, “Yes we, because I think we both have a right to know what’s going on.”

  “Until we,” continued Tom, “get a full explanation.”

  Kara paused, and then seemed to make her mind up. “We do have a bit of time, as much as we want I suppose, so I’ll try to explain. I expect I owe you that much.”

  “Yes, do tell.” Tanda joined them and sat on the grass. “Please take a lump of turf, and expound.”

  “I thought she’d done that in the shower,” said Vac. “I had to turn it down, to save losing all mine.”

  Kara shrugged, and sat cross-legged on the grass in front of them. Her knee poked out of the slit in her skirt. Vac threw himself down beside Tanda, and leered at the gynoid.

  Suzanne leaned back and stuck both her legs out from inside her robe. “I might try for a tan,” she said, scowling at Kara. “No, don’t touch me,” she warned, as Tom leaned closer. “I need to concentrate on what the automaton has to say.”

  Tom grinned.

  Kara slapped her leg. “Now pay attention.”

  “Yes, miss,” said Suzanne, impishly.

  Kara stuck her tongue out. “Now shush and let me speak... if you really want to know.” The others nodded. She took a breath, which Tom wondered why she needed.

  “I have to breathe something over the vocal chords to make a sound,” said Kara, seeing his expression.

  “But you spoke when you were just a head.”

  “I’m always ahead, now don’t split hairs. Things have changed. I’m not all machine, you know. Listen up and pay attention. I shall say this only once, so save your questions for the end.” She took another breath.

  “Before this present universe was formed, there was an earlier one, and many before that, but we will only concern ourselves with this and the one before. Still with me?”

  There were nods from all but Vac, who was studying something he’d found in his nose.

  “Good. All the technological know-how in that previous universe was collected by scholars, and stored in an enormous data-bank in the centre of a mechanical planet, a kind of forerunner to ‘Willipodium’ if you like, only with real data, rather than a collection of random ego-trips. This information was free to everyone, and kept up to date by university grants, contributions by individuals, hacks into private databases and the Galactic Lottery.”

  “I must remember to renew my ticket,” said Suzanne.

  “Because it was so powerful, the system was called the ‘Slicky Database’, and it had connections to all of the enlightened planets. Very splendid of course, but the owners decided that they were going to start charging for the information, throwing adverts at the students and nagging them for donations–you know the sort of thing. A few people paid up, but I think the spirit of the idea was broken, and someone got annoyed. A batch of donated fuel rods for the power plant turned up. Alas, these had been incorrectly labelled…”

  “Let me guess,” interjected Tom. “Cut price mail order perhaps?”

  “It was before their time, but the phenomenon does, we believe, predate most of history. There have always been logistic cock-ups, even from the most primitive of times–remember the crocodile in the Garden of Weedon?”

  “Are you sure of that?” asked Tom.

  “Oh yes. It’s been sanitised over the years, but it has been proved that in evolution, crocodiles predated snakes, and when your little island was a sub-tropical paradise, Northamptonshire was the centre of that Shangri-La.”

  “I thought Shangri-La was in Asia somewhere?”

  “You poor boy... think of Corby rather.”

  “I must reconsider my holidays.”

  “Yes, do so, but that’s another story. In this one, nobody noticed the dodgy fuel-rods, until some five seconds after they were fitted, and then they only noticed briefly, as most of the Universe dissolved into what is accurately, if serendipitously, known as ‘The Big Bang.’”

  “I like a big bang,” put in Vac.

  “Shut up, Vac,” said Tanda.

  “To continue,” said Kara, “nothing much went on in the expanding Universe for a while after this, but apparently, during the explosion, the main data banks fused with fashion and lifestyle records and formed a core of living matter. The core kept to itself for a long time, thrown outwards with the explosion. However it did eventually hit a large piece of planetary matter with the right environment, settled down and after a few false starts evolved in intelligence sufficiently to build time machines. The idea was to restore the pre-Bang conditions, and thus prevent the initial disaster. The control of the time machines was designed to be the most efficient form to try out all the new fashions. Hence we Gynoids were created to do the leg work.” Here she stretched hers in the sunlight.

  “Nice,” Vac leered and reached out to grope.

  “That’s enough, boy,” Kara clipped him around the ear. “Pay attention.”

  “Yes, enough,” agreed Tanda. She clipped him round the other ear.

  “Settle down, Tanda.” Kara continued.

  Tanda pouted.

  “So is this why you keep dressing in those horny outfits?” said Tom.

  “If you’ve got it, flaunt it, I always say.”

&
nbsp; “Ah, but you haven’t got it, you’ve had it made.”

  “Like a handbag, or a pair of shoes,” retorted Kara. “I happen to be able to control my body too. One makes one’s own destiny.”

  “Unless you’re me,” said Tom.

  Kara grimaced. “Moving speedily headlong... we evolved into rational, thinking beings, ourselves. We realised that if we did go back, and stop the ‘Bang’, then we would cease to exist–basic time-dynamics you understand. From the records, we deduced that pre-Bang life was totally pants, string bras, tie-dye shirts and male dominated, so we modified our charge, and based it on the hopes and aspirations of the great female figures in the galaxy.”

  “Great, female?” Vac’s voice was scathing. “Oxymoron alert! Surely the words are mutually exclusive!”

  Three pebbles bounced off his head from three different directions. He lapsed into a sulky silence.

  “But what’s the point of it all?” Tom asked.

  “The point, my pet thug,” said Kara, idly poking her finger into a tuft of moss, “is that we have travelled far into the future, and have seen the galaxy slowly polluted by the excesses of the Consortium. It eventually will reach a point we have called the ‘Absolute Filth Horizon’, after which, there is so much pollution and litter that it is impossible to ever clean it up, and the universe turns into an enormous cesspool, unable to support any life at all.”

  Tom nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, some people’s houses are like that already. So much grime that you don’t know where to start and can never tidy it up... not my house of course,” he added self-consciously as Suzanne gave him a sharp glance. “I saw it on ‘How Clean is your Escape to the Attic Dodgy Deal Undercover’.”

  “Good analogy,” said Kara.

  Tom sat back, surprised at the compliment.

  “Your example is a much smaller scale of course, but the basic principle applies. Ut infra, ut supra.”

  “I don’t speak German.”

  “As it is below, so it will be above,” said a small lizard, watching them from a branch of the tree.

  “Right,” said Tom, not realising. “So what are all these purple things wandering around? I mean, they weren’t there when we got shuttled along the corridor.”