by Perrin Briar
“So kind and considerate,” Zoe said, kissing him on the cheek.
“Besides, the water’s steaming hot,” Bryan said. “It’ll be just right for you. Just make sure to get out when it’s a little warm.”
“I think being around lords and ladies is having a positive impact on you,” Zoe said.
“Do you want me to turn my back?” Bryan said.
“Why?” Zoe said .”You’ve seen everything before.”
“Haven’t I just,” Bryan said with a cheeky wink.
“You can keep an eye on the door,” Zoe said.
“I’ll jam something under it to keep it closed,” Bryan said. “That way, I can enjoy the view.”
“Pervert,” Zoe said.
“Guilty as charged,” Bryan said.
Zoe stripped off and climbed into the hot water. She lay down and let the water soak into her bones. She let out a deep contented sigh.
“I want to stay here forever,” Zoe said.
“I want to stay looking at you forever,” Bryan said.
Zoe smiled, feeling a little self conscious, but didn’t cover herself up.
“Do you want me to scrub your back?” Bryan said.
“In a minute,” Zoe said. “Let me enjoy this for a little while.”
Bryan stood up and wandered around the room. He picked up a little rock that had been polished to a high shine. It looked expensive. He moved to the tapestries on the wall.
One depicted a town that was happy and vibrant, with trade going in and out. In the next picture, a hole appeared underneath it, and the whole town disappeared into it. The town was destroyed, the inhabitants still alive, now living in a dome-shaped world. The locals rebuilt the town, and they once again prospered. And then a monster appeared. It was big with sharp pointy teeth. It came each night, taking one, two, sometimes three people at a time. Sometimes they were able to fight it off, but most of the time they failed. So they fed it dead bodies that washed up on the lake, and the town was once again at peace.
Bryan wondered what the next few images would look like. He suspected it would be of a dead dragon and a heroic figure standing over it—perhaps even Lord Maltese.
Zoe began to scrub at her skin, working hard to remove the dirt, grime and sand. She had to wash her hair three times before it began to feel like real hair.
“Okay,” Zoe said. “I’m ready to be scrubbed.”
Bryan scrubbed her back with a natural loofah.
“Careful!” Zoe said. “I’d still like to keep some of the skin if you can manage it.”
“I can’t help it,” Bryan said. “The dirt is really caked on here.”
“Just… try to take it easy,” Zoe said.
Zoe’s skin was red raw by the time Bryan was finished, but it was clean and felt like new. He dreaded to think what his own back was going to look like after he’d finished washing.
“I’m done,” Zoe said. “But the water’s cold and filthy. I’ll ring and get more hot water brought up.”
“Ring?” Bryan said.
Zoe climbed out of the bath, water spilling over the floor. She wrapped a thick towel around herself and crossed to a series of bells that hung above the door. They each had something written underneath them. Zoe studied them before pulling on the string attached to one of them.
“It’ll be up here in a minute,” Zoe said.
Ten minutes in the place, and Zoe could have been born there. Bryan supposed it was due to her classical history education. She was living in history now. It was like traveling back in time, only without the discomfort of wondering whether you’d be able to return to your own timeline. The world still existed and carried on perfectly well without them. They just needed to get back to it.
Zoe’s mouth dropped open at the color of her bath water.
“That was from me?” she said. “I’m surprised I was able to walk under all that extra weight.”
“You have lost a lot of weight,” Bryan said. “I guess the mud only made up the difference.”
Zoe pressed her lips together. It was a gesture Bryan loved, and he felt himself begin to stir. He stood up. Zoe would have recognized the look in his eye anywhere.
“Oh no,” Zoe said. “You stay away from me, you filthy beast. Get clean. Then we’ll see.”
“See?” Bryan said. “I want to do a lot more than see…”
The door burst open, and the mother hens came into the room carrying jugs of steaming water. They reached down and pulled a plug from under the bath, spilling the water into a tray on wheels. The dirty water spilled into it.
The women dragged the tray out into the hall and replaced it with another, clean one. They washed the inside of the dirty tub and wiped it down so it was as good as new. Then they tipped the hot water into it. They worked with the efficiency of an F1 pit team.
“Is there anything else, my lady?” one of the women said.
“Lady?” Zoe said. “Uh, no. Thank you.”
The mother hen followed the other women out into the hall and shut the door behind them.
Bryan and Zoe stood there a moment, stock still, minds still processing what had just happened.
“Did you just see a team of old ladies come in and replace a bathtub full of water in ten seconds flat?” Bryan said.
“I did,” Zoe said.
Bryan approached the tub, surprised to find it perfectly clean.
“They replaced the soap!” he said. “I didn’t even see them bring any new soap in here!”
“They’re efficient,” Zoe said.
“I’ll say,” Bryan said. “I’ve never seen such efficiency on the surface. Even in the best hotels in the world. No, especially not in the so-called best hotels.”
“You stay at those hotels for the prestige, not the service,” Zoe said.
“Don’t remind me,” Bryan said. “In some ways the world has gone backwards. We’ve advanced in technology and sophistication, but sometimes I think we paid too high a price.”
“I think you’re right,” Zoe said. “Sometimes we care more about the things we own more than the people who make them for us.”
Zoe opened a wardrobe. Dresses and smart male wear circa the 1700s hung from hangers.
“This stuff is in our size,” Zoe said. “How do you suppose they knew our sizes?”
“Beats me,” Bryan said, stripping off. “Maybe we match the average size of the 1700s person.”
“Maybe,” Zoe said with a frown.
She flicked through the items one at a time until she came to a long burgundy dress. She unhooked it and draped it over one arm. She felt the material between her fingers. It was smooth and silky. She laid it on the bed and admired it. It was a beautiful item. If she’d lost the amount of weight she thought she had, it would fit her just right.
Bryan eased himself into the water, his face scrunched up. It was too hot, so he stood up and put more cold water into the bath. The steam bellowed and turned his area of the room into a sauna. He sighed as he lowered himself back into the tub.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Zoe said.
“Wonderful,” Bryan said.
He lay back and relaxed, closing his eyes. He didn’t relax as long as Zoe had, but then, she didn’t expect him to. Bryan was a man of action. Yoga for him was about the stretches. He had no time for the spiritual mumbo jumbo.
“I’ve been thinking,” Bryan said.
“Here comes trouble,” Zoe said.
“It seems like we’ve been passing through time as we move through these worlds, don’t you think?” Bryan said. “It’s like seeing the development of man, how we emerged and looked out at the world and finally managed to get control of our surroundings.”
“You might be onto something there,” Zoe said.
Relieved he didn’t sound stupid, Bryan pushed on.
“First there were the cavemen, the early humans,” he said. “And then there were the seafaring people, and then the miners. And then these people. They look more advanced than any
one else we’ve come across so far.”
“But still a long way off the surface,” Zoe said.
“Maybe these sinkholes only open for a short period of time before closing,” Bryan said. “And then new ones open up, each time getting closer and closer to the surface time.”
“So you’re saying we’re getting closer to home?” Zoe said.
“I don’t know,” Bryan said. “But it makes sense in a warped kind of way.”
“It does,” Zoe said. “But just because we’re moving forward in time doesn’t mean we’re necessarily getting closer to the surface.”
“No,” Bryan said, slightly deflated. “I suppose not.”
“I haven’t noticed anything about the rocks and the walls of the worlds we’ve been to that suggests we’ve been moving up nor down,” Zoe said.
“Thanks,” Bryan said. “That really makes me feel better.”
“It’s not about feeling better,” Zoe said. “It’s about the facts. When we get back to the surface, everything we know about deep under the Earth’s surface is going to change. All the textbooks will need to be rewritten. Nations will begin digging to discover these new worlds, and these new resources.”
“Yeah,” Bryan said.
And suddenly he didn’t sound so excited by the prospect.
“But not necessarily,” Zoe said.
“What do you mean?” Bryan said. “How will we explain to everyone where we’ve been if we don’t tell them about these worlds down here?”
“There are a million different reasons we can use to explain where we’ve been,” Zoe said.
“You mean, lie?” Bryan said. “What would we say?”
“Anything,” Zoe said with a shrug. “No one would know. Anyway, we don’t need to worry about that right now. We need to focus on getting to the position where we’ll use those stories we’ll make up.”
Zoe moved to the makeup table and began experimenting with the items she found there.
“I suppose you’re right,” Bryan said. “I vote we were on an undercover mission for the CIA.”
“Something believable,” Zoe said.
“I always fancied myself in the CIA,” Bryan said.
He picked up a scrubbing brush and began rubbing at his skin. He had to dunk the sponge under the surface with every couple of scrubs. Then he paused.
“Why would anyone want to protect the machines?” he said.
“Sorry?” Zoe said.
“The machines in the cave,” Bryan said. “They’ve been playing on my mind. Why would someone want to put them there?”
“I don’t know,” Zoe said. “Maybe they weren’t being hidden there at all, but protected.”
“Protected by what?” Bryan said.
“By the most vicious guard dog in history,” Zoe said. “A dragon.”
Bryan stopped scrubbing himself and turned to look at Zoe.
“You don’t honestly think that’s what’s happening there, do you?” he said. “That someone is using that monster to protect something?”
“Why not?” Zoe said. “No one here will go anywhere near the caves. It’s where I’d put something if I wanted to make sure no one ever discovered it.”
Bryan returned to scrubbing himself.
“You wouldn’t be able to discover it either though, would you?” he said. “It’s all very well putting it in there in the first place, but how would you go about getting it back out again?”
“You’d have a secret entrance, I suppose,” Zoe said.
“I didn’t see any secret entrance,” Bryan said.
“That would defeat the point of it being secret now, wouldn’t it?” Zoe said.
“I suppose so,” Bryan said.
Bryan peeled something sticky off his arm. It had dried and looked like a flake of skin.
“But why would you want the machines here anyway?” Zoe said. “There’s not much water. Where would you use them?”
“Maybe they’re only here for a while,” Bryan said, scrubbing the soles of his feet. “You’d move them on to their final destination later.”
“But why keep them here?” Zoe said.
“Beats me,” Bryan said. “Maybe there isn’t a safer place between here and wherever they’re going.”
“That’s certainly true of the last world,” Zoe said. “God help whoever is there right now.”
“God help us,” Bryan said. “Never mind anyone else. We’ve got a dragon to face.”
“It’s not a dragon,” Zoe said. “There aren’t such things as dragons.”
“No,” Bryan said. “But there are such things that could be mistaken for a dragon. Like things we’ve already seen.”
Zoe’s hand froze in the middle of applying makeup to her lips.
“Like a dinosaur?” she said. “Funny. The same thing crossed my mind too. If you took away the monster’s ability to breathe fire, you could easily mistake it for a T-Rex. But how could one of those have gotten here?”
“Who knows how things work here,” Bryan said. “One might have gotten stuck here by accident, or discovered a tunnel and ended up here.”
“Seems a bit unlikely, don’t you think?” Zoe said. “If our idea of the worlds moving forward has any credence to it, it means there were dragons around during the seventeenth century.”
“There are plenty of stories about them,” Bryan said. “George and the last dragon for example.”
“Hardly concrete evidence,” Zoe said.
“You never know how much truth might be contained in old stories,” Bryan said.
“I’ll believe them if we found bones in the fossil record around that time,” Zoe said.
“Your scientific snobbishness is shining through,” Bryan said.
“It’s called evidence and intelligence,” Zoe said. “I don’t believe things just because it sounds nice. But I guess this whole place is unlikely. Why should the creatures here be any different?”
“What about the fire we saw it breathe?” Bryan said. “Where did that come from?”
“You saw it outside the town walls in pure daylight,” Zoe said. “It had some kind of machinery attached to it, something big and heavy strapped to its back. It looked half robot to me. Who knows what its purpose is. But these locals are living in the middle ages. They wouldn’t know the difference between modern science and magic. But we do. It was a machine, and someone put it on a dinosaur.”
“Someone, who?” Bryan said.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Zoe said.
They shared a look.
“This is getting spooky,” Bryan said.
Zoe didn’t like to admit it, but this whole world had her spooked ever since they had arrived.
22.
THE DINING HALL was a feast for the senses. A string quartet played harmonious music, soft soothing melodies. The table was mahogany, polished to a high shine. Expensive chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, giving the room a healthy glow. The food looked like something from an Ideal Homes catalogue.
Zoe couldn’t think of a time when the family had looked so good either. None of them had taken a nap after their recent ordeal. It seemed their period of being unconscious had fully restored them. Besides, the fright they experienced of a monster chasing them was becoming a regular part of their lives. Like anything that became routine, it had less of an effect on them the more they experienced it.
The sun’s rays were still visible through the windows. The lighting wasn’t necessary yet. Clearly the night’s events were expected to carry on late into the evening, long after the sun had set.
But the family had to earn their meal. The hall was crammed with townspeople. They stood between the family and the dining table at the front of the hall. The family had to shake them each by the hand and introduce themselves. It was good they all spoke English, though you could hardly guess it, what with their strong accents.
It was difficult to understand some of them. It was somewhat overwhelming for the family, especially
Zoe and Aaron, who were not often at such high class events. Bryan, for his sins, was more experienced. Cassie carried herself with the dignity of her father. They mingled and answered questions to anything posed to them.
The first round consisted of the affluent townspeople, the nobles. They were apparently enchanted with the family, and found their broad American accents a novelty. Strange, Cassie thought. Usually it’s the other way round.
At the head of the main hall were the lord and lady. They oversaw the event with mild interest, but didn’t get involved in the proceedings. Abigail and Roland appeared to be bored by the event, staring off into space and blowing out through their mouths.
Abigail had something of interest in her lap, cleverly concealed within the folds of her dress. Roland had not prepared himself, and so spent most of his time eying up the local girls, most notably, perhaps because she was something new to look at, Cassie.
She looked different to the other girls. She had a feistiness, an aggressiveness in her character that came through in her persona. She was a firecracker, something that would keep Roland on his toes. He found her alluring, exciting. Something different to the normally coy and shy ladies in court.
He was pleased when Cassie occasionally glanced in his direction, her eyes catching his, before looking away. It excited him to see that. It wasn’t that she was shy about looking him in the eye—far from it, clearly—but she did not want to be seen as a girl who did look a boy in the eye, despite what her true character might be.
But it wasn’t just the rich and high blood present in the great hall. The whole town had turned out for the event. The roiling masses, unused to such ceremonies, stayed predominantly at the back of the hall. They looked apprehensive as the family approached, shuffling their feet and not liking to ask too many questions.
The more boisterous youth had no such reservations, and asked questions, though they were not always the most searching or introspective—mostly things about how they dress on the surface, or what the women were like. The family gave direct, but not particularly informative, answers. The rowdy young men soon got bored and moved away.
