My Cousin is a Time Traveller

by David Solomons

  I tapped the play icon.

  “You’re terminated … Mother.”

  Instantly, there was a descending whine of power and the lights on the console fell dark.

  The countdown hit zero.

  On the curved screens displaying video from the launch bay the missiles remained in their silos.

  I blinked and looked again. There was no doubt about it. The countdown had passed and nothing had happened.

  Another second ticked by and the others realised it too. A cheer went up.

  But something was making me hot and bothered, and it wasn’t the unicorn slippers. My gaze fell on the fallen toaster across the room. I went over and crouched down beside its dented casing, wary of touching it even now. The device fizzed and sparked and for a moment its red dial eyes pulsed and the wavy line on its display rose and fell. Blank until that moment, the word “transferring” scrolled across the narrow digital window.

  The toast lever popped.

  My eye was caught by a movement on the other side of the room. I turned to see Christopher Talbot rising from his chair like Frankenstein’s monster shocked into life for the first time. Shrugging off the bonds that tied his hands and feet, ripping the tape from his mouth, he began to walk stiffly towards the central console. His movements were odd, as if one half of his body was fighting the other. Then I realised that’s exactly what was happening.

  “Transferring,” I mumbled to myself. Servatron had moved itself out of the toaster and into Talbot. It was in control of his machine half, and heading straight for M.O.T.H.E.R.

  “Stop him!” I cried, but the others were too busy hugging and congratulating each other to notice. My slippers scrabbled for grip on the floor as I hurled myself across the room.

  Talbot reached the console a stride in front of me. I arrived just in time to see his remote-control hand slap down on the interface.

  The cheering stopped. It was as if the whole world had fallen silent.

  I turned slowly to the wall of screens and watched with dread as the first of the missiles launched.

  “Servatron,” gasped Talbot, standing motionless over the console. Every word was an effort. “Taken. Control. Of. My. Cybernetic. Half.” I could see his human side gather its strength. “Wish. I’d. Never. Written. That. Book.” He grimaced in pain and when he spoke again it was with another voice. The words rumbled out of his mouth.

  “End of Program,” Servatron gloated. “Goodbye, Nigel.”

  Under the AI’s influence, Talbot’s shoulders heaved and he began making a new sound. It took me a moment to realise that it was mocking laughter.

  Zack popped the canopy on the Rocket Pod. “Luke, get in. The rest of you, climb on. We’re going to stop those missiles.”

  I squeezed into the one-person cab alongside my brother. Serge, Dina and Lara perched on the running boards that enclosed the tracks. Zack spun the vehicle round and stamped on the accelerator. We sped out of M.O.T.H.E.R.’s chamber, Servatron’s laughter ringing in our ears.

  The Rocket Pod leapt the chasm and landed hard on the other side. Zack drove like a demon, carving a path through the Fulfilment Centre, swerving past drones and warehouse robots that tried to halt our progress. Under Servatron’s control, they buzzed us and threw refrigerators in our path. Zack dodged the lot.

  “I can stop the missiles,” he shouted over the sound of whirring drones and grumbling tank-tracks.

  “How?”

  “I still have my flying power. I’ll knock them off course.”

  If he also had his telekinetic power and his force field it would’ve been possible, but without them I didn’t see how. “With what – your big toe?”

  Zack’s warning shout rose above the noise of the Rocket Pod. “EVERYONE, HOLD TIGHT!”

  A fridge-freezer the size of a battleship sailed through the air towards us. I braced myself as Zack turned sharply out of its way and crashed through an emergency exit. The impact caused one of the Rocket Pod’s tracks to snap and we went into a spin. I felt myself thrown from the vehicle. For a second or two I was airborne and the world spiralled in front of my eyes.

  I was outside the Fulfilment Centre, back in the fresh air, and then, with a thud, I was lying flat on the ground, gazing up at an advertising billboard. Even upside down I could see immediately what it was selling. “Unforgettable,” read one quote. “Mind-blowing,” read another. “I can’t remember a better superhero story. I can’t remember anything!” It was an advert for Star Power and the Revenge of the Plasmatrons.

  I barely paid it any attention, because above the billboard the sky was dark with Retconite missiles. Clouds of them obscured the setting sun, shooting into the atmosphere to deliver their deadly payloads across the world.

  Whoosh!

  I sat up and looked over at the Fulfilment Centre. More missiles launched every few seconds in what seemed to me an unstoppable barrage. In less than one hour they would span the globe, reaching even the furthest corners of the planet, exploding above major cities and small towns alike, engulfing the human world with the mind-wiping Retconite.

  As the missiles rose into the air I couldn’t help but notice the company logo on the side of the building, and the strapline, which now seemed to taunt me.

  “The Future, Delivered.”

  I looked around for the others. The Rocket Pod was on its side at the end of a long furrow it had gouged in the pavement. Dina and Serge lay next to it, dazed but in one piece. The pod’s canopy was thrown open and the cab empty. Zack had got out safely.

  I saw him, just for a moment, his eyes fixed upward, tracking the missiles. Then he sprang into the sky and flew off in pursuit. Without a mask or cape he looked strange: just an ordinary boy in jeans and a hoodie – who could fly.

  Lara was not far behind. She cupped her hands to her mouth and let out a series of piercing squawks. Back came an answering flap of wings as flocks of roosting pigeons, starlings and blackbirds rose over the roof of the Fulfilment Centre and circled in numbers, awaiting her next command. She shed her top layer of clothes, revealing her Dark Flutter costume beneath. Unfolding her cape from a convenient carry-pouch she slung it around her shoulders where it snapped in the wind. Fixing her mask, she swiftly transformed herself into her superhero alter ego. With another call, in seconds she was surrounded by flapping birds. Their talons gripping her cape, they lifted her off the ground, flying her into battle.

  I joined Dina and Serge by the upturned Rocket Pod. As we raised our eyes to the turmoil above us, I felt Dina slip a hand in mine. We could only watch and hope.

  The missiles were fast, but Star Lad was faster. He caught up with the first wave, matching his speed with the lead weapon and flying alongside it. But what now?

  He nudged the warhead. Maybe he was hoping to alter its direction and send it arrowing into a volcano where its Retconite payload would burn up. Or into space where it could detonate harmlessly.

  Whatever he was planning, I would never discover, because at that moment the missile exploded.

  The air warped and the leading edge of the shock wave smashed into him. He buckled at the impact, spinning out of control like a leaf in the wind.

  “Zack!” I yelled, the blood roaring in my ears.

  He fell, out of control.

  His last power had gone, his wish to be a normal boy once more finally granted.

  The exploding missile had released its payload of Retconite, the blast converting the liquid paint into tiny droplets, which, as they fell, caught the last of the daylight, so that it seemed as if the air had turned blood red. But even as Zack’s crumpled figure tumbled through the Retconite mist, another figure rose to meet his.

  Dark Flutter shot into the sky like a firework, every bird on her cape flapping at full power. She flew into the cloud and I lost sight of both of them.

  “There!” Dina’s sharp eyes caught them first.

  Dark Flutter emerged from the base of the cloud, diving back down to earth, Zack gathered safely in her
arms. Birds lined his body, using their wings to lighten her burden, and in a few seconds she touched down not far from us. She laid him gently down on the ground and then seemed to stumble.

  “Lara!” I ran over to her.

  “You’re in my gym class,” she said, looking at me, puzzled. “Luke, isn’t it?”

  She hardly knew me.

  “What am I doing here?” She pulled at her mask. “And why am I wearing this?”

  Overcome by the Retconite she no longer knew that she was Dark Flutter.

  Serge was stricken. “My Lara, non.”

  On the ground behind her my brother stirred, propped himself on his elbows and looked around with a confused expression.

  “Zack, are you OK?” I asked, fearful of the answer. I knelt down beside him.

  “I-I’m sorry,” he said, his normally keen blue eyes clouded with uncertainty. “Who are you?”

  My brother had been rewritten.

  Clouds of Retconite billowed high above us, blown by the wind. It was only a matter of seconds before it reached the ground and we too were engulfed.

  Servatron had won.

  I felt a hand grab my arm. It was Dina. She held one sleeve across her face in a futile attempt to shield her mouth and nose from the toxic paint.

  “Is your time-travel power back yet?” I asked her.

  She nodded.

  “Then you should get out of here while you still can.”

  The look she gave me was one of utter dismay. I turned away, unable to bear it. We were doomed and I was tired. Adrenalin, excitement and unicorn slippers had carried me through the day, but with the fate of the world so desperate I felt myself overtaken by weariness. I flopped down next to Zack to await the end, slipping my backpack from my shoulders. The screenprinted image of Deadpool had faded, the catch was loose and the whole bag was beginning to look threadbare. It had served me well over the years, today especially, but I’d gone through every gadget I’d put in there battling my way through the Fulfilment Centre – there was nothing left apart from Star Lad’s sigil and my notebooks.

  I took them out. The yellow sticky note I’d attached to the front cover was still in place.

  ALL OF THIS REALLY HAPPENED!!!

  The triple exclamation marks shouted at me as if trying to get my attention. I looked again. It was true. Every word. And that’s when the idea came to me. It was outrageous. The longest of long shots.

  But it might just work.

  “I wish I’d never written that book.” Those had been Talbot’s last words before Servatron had taken control of him. I jammed the notebook into my backpack and thrust it at Dina. “You need to go back – now!”

  “Back where?”

  “There’s someone who can help us. He’s—”

  “No time to explain.” She clasped my wrist. “Concentrate on him. See his face in your mind. I’ll do the rest.”

  “Dina?”

  “You’re coming with me.”

  Her watch began to glow, the digits on the display spinning in reverse. At first they changed slowly, but then picked up speed until they were a glowing streak. Dina’s face was a mask of concentration as she guided us on our journey. For a moment I could still see Zack, Serge and Lara, but it was as if they were underwater and Dina and I were observing them from our own little bubble of time. I realised it wasn’t a bubble – it was the round crystal covering the watch face. We were in its time circuits. And then they vanished, washed away by an intense bloom of light. I closed my eyes against the painful brightness, but even in the midst of my terror at the end of the world it hit me: I’d flown with superheroes, voyaged to a parallel Earth. And now I was a time traveller! Curious, I opened my eyes a crack.

  To be honest, it was a bit disappointing.

  I’d hoped that an experience as momentous as this would call for a swirling silver time tunnel, or a dark portal edged in neon light, or even a couple of blazing tyre tracks. Instead it involved holding my cousin’s hands and waiting for the ancient display on a frankly unimpressive digital watch to stop spinning.

  The intense light faded and once more I could see beyond my immediate surroundings. We had arrived.

  “Uh, Luke, we appear to be in a school gym,” said Dina uncertainly.

  Unlike her, I was relieved. It had worked! “How far back have we travelled?”

  “I make it about one year and two months.”

  “That should be enough.” At least I hoped it would be. This was the first time I’d tried anything like this.

  “Enough for what?” said Dina. “What are we doing here? This place is empty.”

  “Not quite,” I said, indicating a lone figure next to the stage. I wasn’t surprised that Dina had failed to notice him. He was easily overlooked, like the pot plant in the corner that always gets watered last. He stood hunched over a small table piled with books. I guessed he had been packing them carefully into a torn cardboard box, but our sudden and dramatic appearance had caused him to stop. He watched us slack-jawed as we crossed the room.

  “Hello, Arthur,” I said. I knew him only as Arthur Veezat, mainly because I hadn’t been paying attention when he told me his real name. Just one week ago (in my timeline) he’d visited this very gym to talk to our year group, but he’d mentioned then that he also came here the previous year too. Which, thanks to Dina, was right now. Judging by the lack of a signing queue and the stacks of unsold books, the session had just ended.

  Arthur gave me a puzzled look. “Are you talking to me?”

  I nodded. “We meet again.” Actually, that wasn’t quite right. “For the first time.”

  “What’s happening here?” he asked suspiciously.

  My cousin began to answer. “My name is Dina, he’s Luke and we’ve come from—”

  “Wait, I’ve always wanted to do this,” I said, clearing my throat and raising one hand in a Vulcan salute. “We come from the future.”

  Most grown-ups when presented with a statement like this would roll their eyes and carry on staring at their phones, or they’d make some sarcastic comment like: “So in the future do we all have jetpacks and talking dogs?”

  Not Arthur.

  At first he wore the same expression my dad did after a long day at work, but as soon as I said those words the lines on his face seemed to disappear. He stood taller.

  “I’ve been waiting my whole life for something like this to happen.”

  “You believe him?” said Dina incredulously. “That almost never happens.”

  “We come from a year and a bit in the future,” I went on.

  “That’s not terribly far, is it?” Arthur sounded disappointed.

  Dina put her hands on her hips, offended. “Mmhmm, yeah but, y’know, still time travel.”

  Arthur clapped a hand to his forehead. “Wait, wait! Did I send you back here to warn me of some impending catastrophe in my life? Is it about the mortgage?”

  I felt slightly guilty. “Uh, it’s not really about you.”

  “Oh.”

  “I mean, it is now. Just not then. In the future, where we’ve come from.”

  “I see. But it’s serious, right? In books people from the future don’t fire themselves through wormholes on their time-sledges for nothing.”

  “It was more like a white light and a special watch.”

  “Dial with whizzy hands?”

  “Actually, it was digital.”

  Dina coughed. “When you two are finished?”

  “But yes, serious,” I said. “In fact, the consequences for our mission are world-changing. Why are you smiling?”

  He took a deep breath. “What do I have to do?”

  I opened my backpack and offered him the notebooks. “Can you get these made into a book?”

  He paused. “You came back through time to ask me to get your short stories published?”

  “The very future of the human race depends on it.”

  “If I had a quid for every time some wannabe author told me that…”r />
  Dina nudged me. “Uh, Luke, maybe now’s not the time to be planning your career?”

  “That’s not what this is about,” I said. “We can’t stop Servatron, but we can stop Star Power.”

  “How will that help?”

  “Servatron only finds out about Retconite because of the book. If there’s no Star Power in the first place—”

  Understanding dawned on her face. “Then it can’t use Retconite to wipe everyone’s minds and enslave the human race.”

  “Enslave the…?” Arthur stuttered. “I think I need to sit down.”

  I turned to Dina. “We have to make sure no one ever reads Star Power and the Revenge of the Plasmatrons.”

  “And how do we do that?”

  I gestured to my notebooks. “Give them the real story instead. Between reading Star Power or the actual adventures of a real superhero, I know which I’d choose.” I offered them again to Arthur. “This is the true story of Star Lad, from someone who was there.”

  He peered at me. “You?”

  It was time to come clean. “He’s my big brother.” I held up each notebook in turn. “Nemesis, alien gym teacher invasion, Gordon the World-Eater, the brain-in-a-jar. They’re all in here.” I tapped the cover of the first one. “This even explains how no one noticed a comic shop in the shape of a giant volcano on the High Street until it was almost too late.”

  I pressed the first book into his hands. He took it from me and began to read. Almost immediately he let out a snort of laughter.

  “It’s not funny,” I objected. I hadn’t written the book for people to laugh at. It was an important historical document. There were relative clauses, expanded noun phrases, adverbials – I’d chucked them all in there. Though I still wasn’t clear about the use of the apostrophe.

  He skimmed a few more pages and looked up. “This is remarkable.”

  That was more like it.

  He lowered the book. “But even if I accept that all of this is true, other people might have more difficulty believing.”