by Geonn Cannon
“It’s too close to nightfall. I’m sure you would prefer not to be wandering out in the wild considering what happened last time.”
She bristled at his tone, but she couldn’t deny he had a point. He suggested she instead spend her time exploring their camp. The village was more permanent than she expected. The huts had sturdy stone walls with sloping roofs made of thatched grasses. They were huddled together in a manner that allowed them to serve as a barrier against the rest of the forest. Ketcham, the man who had been there when she first regained consciousness, appointed himself as her unofficial guide.
“I assume this is the original settlement of the Burnt Empire.”
“Repaired and rebuilt several times over the centuries,” Ketcham said, “but for the most part, yes. This is where they lived when they first arrived from the past.”
“Isn’t it a bit reckless to set up camp here?”
He smiled. “It is a challenge. It is a statement that we aren’t hiding from them. If they wish to attack us, they know where we can be found.”
“As I said,” Dorothy muttered. “Reckless.”
Once they had gained some distance from the airplane, Dorothy turned to get a look at it from the outside. The shell was corroded and eaten away by rust, and most of the paint had chipped away to reveal the bare metal underneath.
“There’s not a chance in hell this thing, whatever it might have once been, is three hundred years old. The metal wouldn’t survive that long. The interiors...”
“A side effect of time being ‘strange’ here,” Ketcham said. “Yes, this airplane arrived in the seventeenth century. But in a very real sense, it only came into existence a year ago. It’s decaying at a very rapid rate. Trying to catch up with its new reality, I suppose. It’s the most visible example we have of time trying to set itself right.”
Dorothy muttered, “This is madness...” but she couldn’t deny the evidence of her own eyes.
Neville approached with a plate of beans and a large chunk of what smelled like fresh cornbread. Dorothy’s stomach twisted so violently with hunger that she was almost afraid she wouldn’t be able to eat anything even if it was offered. She swallowed to ensure she wouldn’t drool when she spoke.
“Where did you get--?”
“This is for you.” He handed her the plate. Dorothy’s fingers tightened on the edge of it, almost trembling from the effort of not digging in. “I thought you might be a bit ravenous following everything you’ve been through. There’s more where that came from if you’re still hungry when you’re finished.”
She said, “Thank you,” and took a bite of the bread as casually as she could. It melted on her tongue, rich and hot and buttery. She had taken three more bites before she realized, and she forced herself to chew and swallow before taking another. “My... compliments to the chef,” she said once her mouth was free again.
Neville smiled. “You’re certainly welcome. I suggest you spend the rest of the night satisfying your hunger and getting a proper rest. In the morning, we’ll set out.”
“Set out? Where are we going?”
“The Pratear, Lady Boone.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So quickly?”
“Time is fluid, but it’s moving like a river. We don’t know how long it will be until the two paths merge. The sooner we’re underway, the sooner this whole mess can be remedied once and for all. So enjoy your meal. Tomorrow will be a very busy day.”
Dorothy watched him go. Ketcham was still with her, but Dorothy didn’t care what he thought about her manners. She shoved the rest of the cornbread into her mouth, still chewing it as she went in search of a second helping.
Chapter Ten
Felix scheduled their departure for dawn, and Trafalgar went back to her tent to get as much sleep as she could. In the morning she woke to the sound of the team preparing to set out. She dressed and wrapped a scarf around her head, tucking its excess length into the collar of her blouse. Cora poked her head in and smiled when she saw Trafalgar was almost ready to leave.
“I was skeptical when Captain Neville said you would be joining us, but you certainly look as if you’ve made a miraculous recovery. How do you feel?”
“I believe I’m well enough to make the journey. But I’m grateful you will be there with us, just in case. I’m not entirely certain I trust Neville yet.”
Cora glanced over her shoulder and moved deeper into the tent. “You think he’s lying?”
“Not necessarily. But his comment about Dorothy being misled by his... ‘other’ made me think we could be in a similar situation. He told us his side of the story and claims his cause is just, and we believe him because he’s the one we happened to meet. He claims the Burnt Empire are savages who must be stopped. We have no way of knowing how biased he might be. We should take any facts he presents to us with a grain of salt.”
“I concur. I’ve spent the morning wandering as much as the villagers will allow me. I was trying to find one of these ‘Slipping’ points he was talking about.”
“Trying to leave me behind and join Dorothy on her side?”
Cora grinned. “Well, I assume she would be much less hassle. But no, I was merely trying to confirm they were as difficult to find as he claimed. All I can say for certain is that I didn’t happen to find any during my brief search.”
“I’m glad to see you’re maintaining skepticism, despite...”
“Despite what?” Cora said.
Trafalgar smiled. “Oh, please. I may have been feverish the past day or so, but it seems clear the two of you have built a rapport. I can’t fault you for it. A dashing explorer, lost in the jungle. It’s all very romantic. I’m sure it’s helped by the fact that he’s been all on his own for a year, and you’ve kept yourself cooped up in your house since leaving the institute. It’s only natural for the two of you to gravitate toward one another. Just keep your head clear.”
Cora said, “Of course.” She folded her arms over her chest and smiled. “He is dashing, isn’t he?”
Trafalgar laughed and ushered Cora out of her tent.
Felix was standing with a group of villagers, the first Trafalgar had seen since her arrival. They looked at her with a combination of fear and curiosity, and she nodded to them in what she hoped was a universal greeting. One of them was holding a leather bag which another was filling with tightly-wrapped packages.
“Miss Trafalgar, meet a few of our hosts. This is Matta and his brother, Viejas. They’ve offered to accompany us on our journey to the Pratear.”
“Wonderful,” Trafalgar said. “It’s wonderful to meet you, gentlemen.”
She offered her hand, but they only stared at it. Matta, the one holding the bag, muttered something so quietly that she couldn’t even tell what language it was.
“They’re a bit shy with new people,” Felix said. “Especially women. This morning was the first time any of them even looked Miss Hyde in the eye.”
“I think the time has come for you to call me Cora, Felix,” she said.
He smiled and looked away. “Perhaps I will.”
Trafalgar pretended to ignore the flirtation. She turned to scan the area, which was now only slightly more visible than it had been at night. The canopy overhead created a near-solid barrier that prevented sunlight from reaching them.
“How long do you think this trek will be?”
“I’ve been back and forth to the site a few times since the original incident. We should arrive by nightfall, barring any unexpected delays. We’ll camp there while you and M... you and Cora investigate the anomaly. If we can come to an agreement on the proper course of action, we’ll finally put an end to this situation.”
Trafalgar said, “If we succeed in closing or preventing the anomaly, how long will it be before we see results?”
“The changes were apparent immediately, so I assume the reverse would be true. No anomaly means no plane crash, no Burnt Empire, and no alternate timeline. It will be like the sun breaking through clouds
after a storm.” He took the bag from Matta and slipped his arms through the straps. Trafalgar saw a second bag containing their camping gear and took it for herself before one of the men could insist on taking it. Felix watched her put it on but said nothing. “Well, ladies, if we’re ready?”
“Lead the way, Captain,” Trafalgar said.
#
Dorothy spent the rest of the night in the wreckage of the plane. It seemed better than staying in one of the cabins and trusting Neville’s men. They seemed afraid of the plane and gave it a wide berth, so that was where she wanted to be. She woke to find it did seem as if a few years had passed in terms of decay. The metal was more corroded, and the structure creaked when she climbed out of the gaping hole in the back. Neville was nowhere to be found, but someone was crouching next to the table where all the food had been laid out the night before. There were four bags sitting on the ground next to the table, all of them standing open like baby birds awaiting a meal from their mother. The person, tall and strapping, with sleeves cut off to reveal arms roped with muscles, was loading supplies into the bags.
Dorothy cleared her throat as she approached. “I don’t suppose there are any leftovers.”
“Anything that wasn’t packed away last night is going in the supplies for the people going to the Pratear. Are you one of them?”
“You’re a woman!” Dorothy was unable to stop herself from blurting it out. She blinked and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know there were any women in the group.”
She ignored the reaction. Her short hair, combined with the lean build, probably meant she had dealt with the confusion more often than she’d like. Instead, she continued her work with barely a glance back at Dorothy.
“You’re that woman they brought in the other day. The new one.”
“Yes, that’s right. Dorothy Boone. And yes, I am one of the people accompanying Captain Neville on the trip to Pratear.”
The woman looked her up and down. “You don’t look like much.”
“I’m more formidable than I appear. I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”
“A little worse for wear.” She tapped her brow above the forehead.
Dorothy frowned and reached up. There was a bandage just below her hairline. She hadn’t even noticed it the day before when she was speaking to Neville and Ketcham.
“I’ve had worse,” she said, trying to cover her surprise. “And you have me at a disadvantage. You didn’t tell me your name.”
“Rute.”
“A... beautiful name.”
The woman grunted and lifted the bag she’d been filling with food. “It’s going to take all day to reach the river. It won’t be easy. I’m not just talking about the terrain. On a nuisance level, there are insects. They bite and irritate your skin. They get in your nose and mouth and eyes. There will be snakes and spiders.”
“Lions and tigers and bears, oh my,” Dorothy sang.
Rute glared at her. “There will also be people. Savages.”
“I don’t believe there’s such a thing as ‘savages,’ to be honest. People who are less advanced than us, of course, but to imply they’re less human simply because--”
“This isn’t a scholarly discussion, Lady Boone. This isn’t some debate you’re having in the sitting room after dinner. Call them what you like, but we’re invading their territory. They react as savagely as you or I would if someone broke into our homes. They will be attacking us with arrows, with spears and bone knives, and they will not speak our language. You will not be able to reason with them. So forgive me for employing a shorthand to warn you about the people who will be trying to kill you in a few hours.”
“Message received.”
Ketcham had approached without her hearing him, but he’d apparently overheard some of their exchange. “Don’t let Rute scare you, Lady Boone. She’s just feeling a little intimidated having another girl in the camp for a change.”
Rute snorted and went back to packing the food.
“Where’s Captain Neville?”
“Still asleep,” Ketcham said. “He trusts us to get everything ready, and he’ll join us when we set out. He gets headaches in the morning. Dizzy spells. It usually happens when the ‘other’ Felix Neville is awake first. It throws him for a loop.”
Dorothy said, “I can imagine. So... you believe this whole scenario is true? That there’s another timeline with a second version of the captain?”
“We’ve seen evidence of it,” Rute said. “We went out hunting a few months ago. Came back here, and the entire clearing was gone. No plane. Nothing, no sign any of us had ever been here. We thought we had the wrong place. Wandered for a bit. Took about three days before it snapped back to the right version.”
“It’s hard to believe that anything we do now can prevent something that happened three centuries ago.”
“Then don’t think about it that way,” Ketcham said. “Think of it as an ongoing event which began a year ago and will continue for five decades. The dam is leaking and we have a chance to prevent a flood even as we’re drowning in it.”
“That does help. Thank you, Mr. Ketcham.” She moved closer to the packs. “Is there anything I can do to speed along the process?”
Rute hesitated, then gave Dorothy a list of tasks to complete. As Dorothy went about them, she let her mind wander to Trafalgar and Cora. She had to believe they were still alive, even if they might be hurt. She also had to believe they were in the ‘other’ timeline, the ‘proper’ events, so that they were spared when the anomaly was closed. She wondered if they knew where she was. If they’d fled the ambush while she was still unconscious, they might have been forced to write her off as dead. That would be the best possibility. It meant they would be able to leave the forest, get back to their lives in London...
She rested her hand on top of a pack. London. Beatrice, waiting at home for her. Her throat closed up at the thought of never seeing Trix again. She would never know for certain what had happened.
“Boone?”
She turned and saw Neville had woken. His hair was wet and pushed back out of his face, but his beard was tangled. Though he was dressed, he looked as if he’d only woken up thirty seconds before saying her name. Ketcham and Rute were standing behind him, already wearing their packs.
“Is everything all right?”
“Perfectly fine.” She cinched the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Are we ready to depart?”
Neville looked up at the canopy. “Sun’s rising, so there will be more light once we’re underway. Try to keep up, Lady Boone.”
He brushed past Ketcham and headed for the trees. Dorothy adjusted the strap of her pack and brought up the rear behind Rute.
Chapter Eleven
The sun may have been unable to break through the canopy, but the heat of the day quickly made its presence known. Dorothy was swarmed by tiny black bugs she could barely see, let alone identify. She protected her eyes by wearing a pair of sunglasses loaned to her by Ketcham and did her best to swat away anything that got too close to her nose or mouth.
“I know your reputation, Lady Boone,” Neville called back. “You’ve traveled the world.” He grunted as he chopped through a thick vine. “But you haven’t spent much time in jungles, have you?”
“Not if I can avoid it,” Dorothy said. “I’m not against living rough when it’s absolutely necessary, but I also believe there are places in the world that are simply not worth the trouble.”
“There are mysteries to be unearthed in every corner of the globe, Dorothy,” Neville said. “Your comfort is a small price to pay for the advancement of knowledge!”
Dorothy nodded. “That is true. But I believe secrets reveal themselves when they are ready to be known. Perhaps this is nature’s way of preventing anyone from finding the Pratear and causing the calamity we’re now trying to prevent.”
“A time for everything, and everything in its time,” Neville said. “Sounds like an excuse to be lazy.”
“Lazy, never!” Dorothy huffed. “There’s more than enough waiting to be found all over the world. We’ll get to it all in due time. I just think it’s wiser to start with the things right in front of us.”
Neville said, “Well, to each their own. Plenty of treasures for everyone to find. I’m content to let you bounce around to the more accessible sites while I take my time to dig out the truly impressive discoveries.”
Dorothy sighed and shook her head.
Ketcham looked back and smiled. He was close enough to Dorothy to speak in a low voice that didn’t carry to Neville. “You don’t have to like someone in order to work with them.”
“Lucky for him,” she said. “Less so for us.”
Neville had ascended a small rise, his boots more or less at eye level for the rest of them, and held up a hand to indicate they should stop. He turned and pointed at Ketcham, waving for him to come up. Rute assumed a firing position, her feet planted in the spongy grass. Neville and Ketcham moved to take cover behind trees, leaving a space between them. Dorothy wasn’t entirely certain what was expected of her, since she hadn’t been offered a weapon, so she crouched to make herself less of a target to any threat that might present itself.
Ketcham whispered a question. “...here or the other side?”
Neville shook his head. “Can’t tell.”
Dorothy moved closer. Rute hissed at her, but Dorothy ignored the warning as she joined the men at the hill’s peak. Neville looked at her with an irritated scowl, but he didn’t risk verbally scolding her. Directly ahead of them, she saw a weak stream trickling across a stony bed. It was closer to a series of miniature waterfalls than a river. A line of men were using the stones as a walkway to follow the ground’s gentle ascent. They were all naked from the waist up and their dark skin was covered with painted markings. They wore trousers and belts but no shoes. Several of them were carrying corpses of small animals bundled together on sticks.
