gLIMMER IN tIME:
The Forgotten Future
(Draft)
The first sequel to "Glimmer in Time: Hidden
History"
by Lynda A. Calder
(c) 2008
Prelude - Arrival of the
Nephilim
Chapter 1 - Only Just The Beginning
Chapter 2 - What Happened Next
PRELUDE
– Arrival of the Nephilim
Stonehenge on the Salisbury Plain,
21st June, 2017 AD – Summer Solstice
A silent,
gnat-sized aeroplane traced another glowing pink vapour trail in the pre-dawn sky.
A hundred Druids processed out the tunnel under the road and up the pathway to
encircle the ramshackled
The sky lightened
behind the Heelstone. A trumpet blared. The sun’s golden rays burst
forth. The centre of the Druidic ceremony glittered gold. Hands raised but
faltered. Something was wrong.
A flash of red and a
foot appeared in the centre of the stone circle. It grew into a muscular
bronzed man in a white toga. He overshadowed the trembling Druids.
“Bow before
the mighty Nephilim of the gods,” Cronus bellowed, his voice artificially
amplified by mystical means.
With screams and
howls, the Druids scattered, random trails destroying the symmetry created on
the grass. One after the other, nineteen more Nephilim filled the small Henge.
Cronus furrowed his
brow. “What has happened to our beloved Gateway? Why have the stones
fallen into such disrepair? Do these humans no longer revere us?”
“What of this
time, Cronus?” Zeus began. “Do we continue as we have for the past
five thousand Summers or do we make this time our own?”
“We shall inspect these peoples and see if they are worthy of the
mighty Nephilim of the gods. If they are less than we hoped, we will finally
make their civilisation our own. Are we agreed?”
Cassandra looked at
her watch. Little Snoopy was faded and all the paint had peeled from the rim
but the tennis ball on the second hand was still accurate, striking the tennis
racket on the hour hand every minute. She sighed. It was time. She flicked on
the large screen television with the remote and dropped into the leather
lounge. She sank with a poof. Only half her mind was on the screen, the other
half on what she knew would follow this day. The end was finally nigh.
A frantic female
reporter leaned from the door of a helicopter shouting over the noise of the
multiple other helicopters in shot. “For those who have just joined
us,” the television blared. “Twenty gigantic men in white togas
have just appeared in the centre of
“Sally,”
the television cut to a man in a news studio. “Can you describe the scene
to us?”
“Certainly,
Angus,” the shouting woman obliged.
The television
screen showed
“You see below us that spectators as well as News crews from
around the world are rushing to this remote area. Police are trying to secure the perimeter below until
we know more about these mysterious newcomers, these men. However, onlookers
are still crowding the entrance to this historical site.”
The camera moved back to the standing stones as the
helicopter circled directly overhead. Twenty tanned men stared off into the
distance.
“No one, Angus, is yet sure what these men are
doing, nor where they came from. They have been standing inside
The camera focused back on the crowd; seeking out
people wearing Druidic dress and waving runic placards.
“Angus, we believe these men are calling
themselves the Nephilim. Scholars tell me that this is the name of an ancient
mythical group of people mentioned in the Christian Bible, Angus, but the same
scholars are questioning whether the Druids, so scared by the strange
appearance, heard correctly. But wait, Angus...”
The camera swung wildly, the picture flickered as the
cameraman zoomed into the centre of the Henge.
“Angus, I believe we have movement.”
The Nephilim stood
in a circle considering Cronus’ suggestion. Arguments broke out as the
Nephilim discussed their options: to continue travelling through time as they
had done for thousands of years or settle and bring their families forward from
the distance past.
Helicopters pounded
in the sky; wind storms buffeted their togas. They had reached a consensus and
closed ranks around their leader.
"Your
decision?"
“Cronus, we
shall do as you ask,” agreed Oceanus.
“Then we
shall send our precious Time Device into the future and mold this
society.” Cronus held the pewter cup aloft, so small in his enormous
hand. “Two hundred Summers from now we shall retrieve this Device and
bring our families into a time that is ours. We shall subjugate these people
and settle here.”
The Time Device
rose above a golden cylinder and vanished. As one, the Nephilim followed Cronus
towards the surging crowd. Reporters waved microphones in the giants’
faces.
“Why are you
here?”
“Who are
you?”
“Are you
really Nephilim?”
Cronus raised his hands. “Humans of this Gateway, the Nephilim of
the gods have arrived to make your Region great.”
Cassandra reached
for the pewter cup Time Device on the coffee table. A tear splashed onto the
glass table top. The newscaster in the studio continued his banter with the
woman in the helicopter as the cameras scanned the crowds again. Cassandra
paused. Two familiar faces filled the screen for just a moment but she knew it
was them. One held a phone to their ear.
Cassandra’s
mobile phone played The Liberty Bell
March. She snapped it open and turned down the television volume.
“Hello,
Pen... Yes, I’m still here... You’re there? ... I just saw you and
James on the TV. Why are you there? Hang on.” Cassandra pressed a button
and set the phone to speaker mode. “OK, I’m here.”
“Cass, it
wasn’t my idea to come half way around the world.” Peony
Winter’s shaking voice was barely audible above the crowd around her.
“I wanted to be safely tucked away just like you. I’m tipping
you’re on the island.”
“Yes, Pen,
I’m on the island, but not for long. I’m heading off now to set
things in motion at my end. Pen, look after yourself and do what you can to
convince James not to-“
“No, James,
don’t do that,” Pen yelled. “Cass I have to go. That stupid
husband of mine has gone and done exactly what we knew he would: he’s
jumped the fence and run out to meet the Nephilim. Oh no, he just bent onto one
knee. Cass, I have to go.”
The mobile phone
went dead.
“Too
late,” Cassandra muttered and shut her phone. “It begins.”
The helicopter had
landed and Sally was diving out onto the grass brandishing her microphone, the
cameraman in tow. Cassandra pressed “Off” on the remote and the
screen went black. Cassandra slipped a green cloak around her shoulders and
placed the pewter cup on the ground. The Time Device hidden within activated. A
cylinder of glittering gold grew before her eyes. With a final look around her
hidden apartment deep in the rock on
1. Only Just The
Beginning
“A
diffusion of knowledge is the only guardian of true liberty.” –
James Madison
“... And
prize for first in Year Ten - Cassandra Reid.”
Mr. Andrew Maxwell,
the School Principal, grinned into the microphone, stealing a look at
Cassandra.
Cassandra stepped
forward onto the stage’s polished wooden floorboards. Her hands were
doing their own dance as her stomach did fancy somersaults. Never before had
she been on the prize list. She tried not to look at the applauding audience
filling the Opera House’s auditorium; she knew her knees would buckle.
The guest speaker
waited centre-stage, one hand outstretched to congratulate Cassandra, the other
grasping a pile of books. “Well done, young lady.” The guest speaker
dumped the books into Cassandra arms. “You have certainly achieved great
things this year.”
As she turned to
face the entire school community, Cassandra looked up at Mr. Maxwell. His smile
dissipated and his eyes dropped back to the podium. With a shuffle of paper and
glance at Cassandra he prepared to read the next awardee’s achievements.
This had been Mr.
Maxwell’s first year at the school, the youngest person appointed to the
position of Principal in the history of the school and he had also been Cassandra’s
English teacher. Mr. Maxwell had been just as awkward all year, ever since
Cassandra’s return from two hundred years into the future to place the
Time Device into his care. It was hiding at the back of the school safe in a
locked box with a large yellow envelope holding instructions for both of them.
They never spoke of the box, never spoke of the secret, really never spoke
apart from the official business of school study.
As her eyes moved
from face to face, an overwhelming sense of responsibility washed over
Cassandra. She had ignored the growing feeling all year but the time was
coming. Soon all these people would expect so much from her... How could she
possibly remember everything she needed to do, she had done, would do? Why did
she have to? She felt trapped, locked into a future she had no control over.
The intense
applause died away and hugging the book prizes to her chest, Cassandra shuffled
back to her seat amongst the other awardees.
“Well done
you,” the girl in the next seat whispered and began rummaging through the
books squashing Cassandra’s legs. “You have so many prizes. Not
like my meagre few. What books did you
get?”
Cassandra swapped
book piles with her new best friend whose pile was not that much smaller than
her own. Peony Winters had enrolled at the beginning of the second term. On
Peony’s very first day the class bully, Rebecca Shepherd, and her own
loyal gang of followers had pulled Peony aside.
“Don’t
talk to Cassandra Reid. She’s a nerd and a freak. No one likes her and no
one likes anyone who likes her.”
Peony had then
approached Cassandra. “Are you a nerd and a freak?”
“Probably.”
Cassandra had shrugged. “What’s your story? You’re either
smart or fast, I reckon. Which one?”
It was well known
the school governing body only accepted exceptional students into the school
mid-year, especially when their Year Ten was already over-full; exceptional
students who could either boost the school’s academic results or add to
its trophy cabinet.
“I run the
hundred metres in nineteen seconds,” Peony had replied with a cheeky
grin.
Cassandra and Peony
were never apart and yet, hardly together. Cassandra’s mother insisted
the girls should set up bedrooms at each other’s houses because they
spent every afternoon at one or the other but it was the complete opposite at
school. The two girls studied different elective subjects, Cassandra played
sport and musical instruments while Peony was in the chess and drama clubs.
Both girls were so
similar in character, both disinterested in the usual teen subjects of
conversation: clothes, shopping, music and boys, preferring to play board games
or study or do the latest exceptionally difficult cryptic crossword. In every
other respect, however, the two girls were opposites. Cassandra was tall, lanky
and flat chested, Peony was shorter by at least a head and fuller of figure.
Cassandra had wispy light brown curls – with a hint of white at the roots
– that struggled to reach the length of her giraffe-like neck. Peony
owned a swaying thick blond bob.
The Years Eleven
and Twelve awards followed, then the announcement of special school awards,
several lengthy speeches and an insufferable number of musical items by the
school’s growing ensemble groups. The Year Sevens seemed as though they
may riot should the resolve of their teachers falter in any way. There was
almost an audible sigh of relief in the auditorium when everyone stood to sing
the school song which heralded the end of the Prize-giving ceremony.
Peony and Cassandra
met their parents on the Opera House’s front steps.
Jenny Reid
smothered her daughter in a hug. “I am so proud of you. You have never
done so well.”
Peony’s
mother gave her daughter a tentative congratulatory pat on the shoulder. The
two fathers conferred quietly to one side.
“It’s
settled,” Paul Reid finally announced.
“What’s
settled?” Cassandra asked, extricating herself from her mother’s
grasp.
Without a daughter
to hug, Jenny wrapped an arm around her husband’s waist. “If Peony
would like to, she may come with us on holidays.”
“Yes!”
Both girls joined hands and jumped in circles.
“Honestly,
Peony, decorum,” Mr. Winters frowned.
17th January, 2004
“OK, family, remember when we reach the beach..."
"Swim between the flags," Jenny, Cassandra
and Peony chorused.
Paul Reid pulled the large blue van they called The Blue Whale off the main shopping
strip into the car park behind the surf club. He parked in their customary
shady spot and turned off the engine.
The Reid daily routine was always exactly the same.
Peony had become an honorary Reid for the holidays. As was the tradition, they
spent almost every daylight hour at the beach, having brought a full carload of
equipment for the outing, from beach seats and tent, to an esky overflowing
with food.
Loaded with stuff,
the Reids skirted around the surf club, lumbered down the pathway - kept free
of the encroaching sand dunes by zealous council workers - to their usual
square of groomed sand between the Surf Lifesaver’s yellow and red flags.
The first item of
the day was always a swim. Paul and Jenny stayed close to shore, body-surfing
the smaller waves, while Cassandra and Peony ventured out past the smaller
breakers where only the largest of waves curled and broke. They rose and fell
with the swell on their boogie-boards waiting for the next perfect wave.
“Have you
thought about what you’re going to do after school?” Peony asked.
Who hadn’t?
Cassandra knew she could have the pick of any University degree she wanted if
she repeated this year’s performance to the end of Year Twelve. But there
was always the future looming on the horizon; the future where everything
changed that day in 2017. Cassandra’s eyes glazed over. She sighed.
Knowing her own future limited her choices. Wasn’t her path already
chosen? But chosen by whom, exactly?
“Hello?”
Peony’s voice seemed to come from afar. Peony’s hand could have
been transparent as she waved it in front of Cassandra’s eyes.
Cassandra stared at
the shore. Her thoughts shifted as the sun glared off the white sand. She would
have to put on more sunscreen when they went in. It was already hot and the
radio weather man had said it was going to be a scorcher.
“Thunderbird
One to Base?”
Cassandra’s
head reconnected with her body. “What? Oh... I don’t know.
Something.”
How could Cassandra
explain what was to come? There was no way Peony could understand the path that
lay ahead.
“Something,”
Peony scoffed. “Well of course something.
You chose your subjects for next year, so you must have thought about
it.”
Yes, she had. She
had thought of nothing else since the first day of Year Ten when she went into
the future. What she did now, did it really matter? Anyway, she had chosen
Mathematics, English, Physics, Chemistry and both Ancient and Modern History. A
vague smile twinged at the corner of her mouth. How would her History teachers react if they knew the
ancient and mythic Nephilim were real and were responsible for almost every
great civilisation throughout the ages?
“Well,
I’m going to be a doctor,” Peony announced, filling the silence.
“Why?”
Cassandra returned to starting at the sand as heat eddies shifted grains from
the top of the dunes in front of the surf club.
“Well, duh!
Cass, a doctor.”
“No, not
‘why’. Why bother? There’ll be no medicine after they
come.”
“After who
come? Cass, you’re not making any sense.” Peony followed
Cassandra’s gaze and placed a hand on Cassandra’s arm. “Are
you OK?”
Cassandra jumped.
What had she been saying? She considered telling her friend everything: about
time travel, the Nephilim, the destruction that was to come and the future. But
was it fair to burden her with it, too? Peony would think she was going crazy.
Peony wouldn’t understand.
Cassandra took a
deep breath, beamed her broadest smile and tried to sound cheerful.
“I’m fine. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll fix the ills of
this world, too.” There was the sound of rushing water behind them as the
largest wave yet crossed into the break zone. “Here comes a big
one.”
And for the
shortest moment, the crashing wave washed away any thought of the future. The
two girls rode it all the way to shore.
After the first
swim and before the first round of sand-castle building, the Reid family would
eat ice-blocks. Fresh from their swim, Cassandra and Peony bounded up the hot,
dry sand towards the surf club canteen to buy the morning treats. Peony
clutched a plastic, blue ten-dollar bill in her hand.
“What are you
getting today, Cass?”
“Oh, I
don’t know. Something chocolate, I think.”
“But you had
chocolate yesterday. You usually pick something new every day. The rest of us
normals eat the same thing everyday.”
“I know, but
today I might have a chocolate coated one; you know, something with some crunch
in it.” Cassandra made a crunching noise.
Peony laughed,
breaking into a run. “Race you there.”
Peony was half way
to the path through the dunes before Cassandra had taken a step.
“I
wouldn’t bother getting those ice-blocks, you know.”
Cassandra stopped
dead. A very familiar voice rose from behind a beach umbrella. Cassandra peered
around the umbrella’s rim. Sitting on a tatty, faded yellow beach towel
was The Lady Who Knows All - a Lady much older than the last one she had met.
This Lady was wrinkled, almost shrivelled. How old was she?
“What are you
doing here?” Cassandra blurted.
“And hello to
you, too, young Cassandra,” The Lady said, with a hint of chastisement.
“Sorry.
Hello, Lady. Are you here to set me a new task or something?”
“No, not at
all. I am just enjoying this perfect summer one last time. I’ve done it
quite often over my lifetime. I wouldn’t be surprised to find a few of us
sunning ourselves on this beach right now.”
Cassandra surveyed
the beach with trepidation: so many umbrellas, so many shade tents. Just how
many hid different versions of herself? It was a creepy and very unsettling
thought. Cassandra resolved to be more cautious about peering beach umbrellas
in the future.
“One last time?” Cassandra muttered.
Did that mean The Lady knew her future, her end, her demise? Cassandra opened
her mouth.
“You are only
fifteen years old,” The Lady interrupted. “You do not want to know
the finite limits of your own life, nor what is to come. Enjoy experiences as
they happen and enjoy forgetting.”
Cassandra looked up
and down the beach, contemplating which umbrellas may be hiding more of herself.
Her mind returned to The Lady’s initial comment. “Why
shouldn’t I bother getting those ice-blocks?” Cassandra moved
around to the front of the umbrella.
“Because Mum
and Dad won’t get a chance to eat them.”
Mum and Dad... That
sounded strange coming from someone old enough to be her great grandmother,
especially since The Lady was talking about her own Mum and Dad.
“Why?”
but even as she asked, Cassandra knew it would remain unanswered. This was The
Lady Who Knew All but never shared it.
“Don’t
get me wrong,” The Lady continued. “They will be enjoyed, but
you’re going to need to buy some more when you get back.”
“Get
back?”
“Yes.”
The Lady gathered up her things, lowered the umbrella and tucked it under her
arm. “Get back.”
The Lady reached
into a pocket, pulled out a new ten-dollar note and placed it into
Cassandra’s hand.
“Keep that
safely tucked away and you’ll see what I mean soon enough.” The
very old Lady winked and began walking off down the beach. She paused, turned
her head and grinned. “And I’ll be seeing you again very
soon.”
Cassandra watched
The Lady’s receding back and then looked at the blue ten-dollar note in
her hand. Get back? See you again very soon? Her heart
pounded. “Get back!” She was going back to the future!
But, when? Where?
Cassandra scanned her surroundings for the familiar golden glimmering cylinder
that heralded the time portal. It was nowhere to be seen. Her shoulders sagged.
Maybe she was wrong. Cassandra tucked the ten-dollar note into her board-shorts
pocket and raced up the path after Peony.
By the time
Cassandra reached the canteen, Peony was jiggling from foot to foot on the hot
concrete with six ice-blocks in hand.
“Here, I
bought you something with crunch, but I really need to go to the ladies.”
Peony thrust the ice-blocks at her friend.
“Take these and wait here ‘til I get back.”
Peony disappeared
in the direction of the toilet block.
“OK,”
Cassandra called. She backed up to the railing protecting the sand-dune
regeneration area. Someone sent her flying.
Shoulders collided
and Cassandra stumbled three steps before she found her feet. Cassandra spun
around. A woman in a large straw hat, wrapped in an olive green beach towel and
toting a large canvas bag over her shoulder was sprinting off towards the
shops.
“Don’t
worry about me,” Cassandra called, returning to the protective railing.
“I’m just fine.”
Cassandra grumbled
to herself about how rude people were. She waited. She looked at her wrist.
That’s right, she never wore her Snoopy watch to the beach. Damn it,
where was Peony? It was so hot, liquid was already melting through the soggy
wrappings and across Cassandra’s fingers.
She licked the
drips running down her wrists and her heart sank. Perhaps The Lady hadn’t
meant “when you get back from the
future” at all. Perhaps she only meant “when you get back to the beach camp”. The ants were
certainly enjoying the droplets of iceblock splashing onto the concrete.
Peony finally
returned from the toilet block running at a rate of knots.
“Cass,
Cass!”
“Hi,
Pen.” Cassandra ignored her friend’s distress and held up the
ice-blocks. They were a sodden mess. “Did you forget these?”
“Something
really strange just happened.” Peony pointed back over her shoulder.
“ Some woman back there just told me-”
The toe of
Peony’s new beach sandals wedged in the gap between two slabs of
concrete. Peony flew through the air. With a squeal she smashed into her
friend. Locked together they fell against the wooden railing. The ground
vanished from beneath Cassandra’s feet and everything went red.
2. What
Happened Next
17th January, 2219 (15th Day of the Eighth Stone)
The railing
disappeared. They landed on soft sand. Peony sprawled across Cassandra’s
body. Three iceblocks had exploded through the paper coverings and squashed
between the girls’ chests. Cold liquid oozed through Cassandra’s
sun-shirt, her swimming costume and onto her bare chest beneath. Someone
screamed.
“Ewww,
Pen!”
Peony peeled off
Cassandra and the ice-blocks slid into the sand.
“I’m
really sorry,” Peony apologised, trying to brush the mixture of chocolate
ice cream and red cordial from her t-shirt. She reached to take
Cassandra’s hand.
“It’ll
wash off in the surf, I suppose.” Peony froze. “Pen, what’s
wrong?”
“CJ! The Lady
never said you’d be coming back so soon,” a girl squeaked.
“And you brought someone with you.”
Cassandra snapped
her head around. Her other friend, Ipp, was standing a couple of metres away
beside her elder brother, Oli.
Ipp was noticeably
older. The formless shape of her brown Centaur clothing - mid-thigh length
pants and a simple cream shirt - only gave a hint of a more shapely body
beneath. The once flowing golden blond hair that had hung to her waist was now
short and swept back from her smooth, tanned face. Her features were trying to
produce a smile but instead seemed to want to frown.
“What
happened to the buildings and the people?” Peony fumbled. “Where
did all these trees come from?”
Peony was right.
Where the concrete surf club had once stood was now a mass of scrub and trees.
The old shopping strip behind it was lost in a forest and any remnant of the
previous human civilisation, except for the edge of the concrete concourse, was
lost under the wandering sand dune that shielded them from the beach beyond.
The only people here were Ipp, Oli, Peony and Cassandra.
“It’s
good to see you again, CJ.” Oli’s voice was calm and confident, his
smile beaming and warm.
Blood rose up
Cassandra’s neck to colour her cheeks.
Oli had transformed
as radically as his sister. He was leaner and his cream shirt and three-quarter
pants hugged well formed muscles. His hair was tied into a short, light brown
ponytail and he sported a small goatee. He looked good. This thought turned
Cassandra’s face into a pulsating beacon.
Oli took
Cassandra’s hand, floating her upright. Her hand tingled. Oli loosened
his grip and Cassandra jerked away. What was wrong with her?
“Um...
It’s great to be back.” She tried to brush the sand off her board
shorts but sticky palms became further caked with sand. “Pen, this is Ipp
and this is Oli. Ipp, Oli, this is my best friend, Pen.”
“Pen?”
Ipp’s forehead creased. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”
Peony had taken no
notice of the introductions. She finished scanning their surroundings and
rushed off into the trees. Cassandra moved to follow, looked at the last of the
Reid family treats and thrust them at Oli.
“Here, take
these.”
“What are
they?” Oli said, scrabbling to take hold of the soggy wrappers.
“Take off the
paper and eat them.”
Peony searched the
building rubble before them. “Cass, what happened to the buildings? The
surf club was just here. And, what happened to the sun? It used to be there and
now it’s setting over there.” Peony pointed from the eastern sky to
the western horizon where a spectacular show of pink and orange clouds farewelled
the day. “Where are we, Cass? What the hell is going on? Some
woman in the toilet block knew our names. The toilet block that was just over
there.” Peony pointed off into the bush. “She said, Just be a little careful, Peony, and
don’t fall on Cassandra too heavily. Cass, how did she know?”
How could Cassandra
explain The Lady to Peony? How could she explain time travel? Until now there
had been no real need, but Peony was here, in the future; she deserved to know
something. Why hadn’t she trusted Peony? Peony was supposed to be her
best friend.
“Ummm... good
questions.” Cassandra dropped her voice and cleared her throat.
“Pen, this is the future. We’re two hundred years into our future
and that woman was also from the future. All the buildings are gone because
they were destroyed two hundred years ago. And this is the surf club, or what’s left of it.”
“Impossible!
There has to be a rational explanation. There always is.” Peony ran her
hand along the blackened wall. “We just have to work it out.”
“Aagh! My brain’s
frozen,” Oli exclaimed. “But these are fantastic.”
“No really.
There is nothing to work out. It’s the truth,” Cassandra went on,
trying to ignore Oli, but her eyes kept drifting in his direction. He really
looked good. “We’re still on the same beach but in the future. We
just passed through a sort of time portal.”
“Sort of time
portal?” Peony shook her head, starting to shout. “You mean that
glowing thing out there is a doorway back to our time? To the same place but in
a different time?”
Cassandra nodded,
feeling more ashamed.
“Now I know
it’s impossible. How can there be a doorway to the same place in another
time. That is just not possible.”
Cassandra knew that
look on Peony’s face: it was Peony’s, “Now I can prove you
wrong” look.
“The earth is
moving around the sun and it is spinning on its axis.” Peony’s
fingers re-enacted the heavenly bodies’ motions. “There is no
guarantee that at the time we left the beach, that same spot on Earth is in
exactly the same place in space two hundred years from then. It doesn’t
make sense.” Peony crossed her arms and her eyebrows almost met in a
scowl.
“I
don’t know how it works. Maybe the Time Device anchors the time portal to
the Earth or something, I don’t know. But we are two hundred years into
our future on the same beach we left. Believe me. Look, you can go back if you
want to,” Cassandra offered, pointing out of the trees at the cylinder of
shining gold.
Peony sank to the
ground. “I’m getting a migraine.”
There was an
awkward silence. A hot summer breeze rustled the leaves. It carried the
faintest hint of burning.
“I smell
smoke.” Cassandra sniffed, trying to locate the direction of the fire.
She dashed back out to Ipp and Oli. “I smell smoke!”
Ipp and Oli shot
glances at each other.
“When you
went-“ Ipp began.
“There have
been some fires,” Oli said cryptically cutting off his sister. Cassandra
caught the faintest shared glare between the siblings.
“Fires?”
“In the bush
surrounding the Basileus Regions,” Ipp snapped. “That’s what
you smell.”
“These are
fantastic,” exclaimed Oli, holding his almost empty red-stained stick in
the air and diverting the conversation. “What did you call them
again?”
“They’re
called ice-blocks.”
“I told you
to turn the Device off, didn’t I?”
Ipp spun around,
wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. Oli almost choked and spat out a
mouthful of red liquid.
The Lady’s
wiry right hand plucked the pewter cup from the air and rested it on her hip.
The glimmering cylinder vanished. The Lady’s lips clenched and her eyes
burned with anger. Unlike The Lady on the beach, this Lady was probably the
same one from Cassandra’s previous visit; making her about thirty (but
then again, it was now impossible to pinpoint her own age after the previous
trip into the future). She wore a large straw hat and was wrapped in an olive
green beach towel. Over one shoulder hung a canvas bag, over the other a long
white plait. A brown cardboard box was wedged under her left arm.
“I go off on
a quick errand, expecting the portal to close behind me. I come back a short
time later hoping to sun myself on the beach before being picked up and find
the Device still activated. There it was, glimmering away in the
sunshine.” The Lady put the box on the sand and began waving her arms
around. “Anyone could have found it. Anyone could have walked through it.
You’re just lucky it was a glary sunny day when I went. For the most part
the portal was camouflaged, But, damn it! What was the last thing I told you
before I went?”
“Turn it off
straight away, set it forward two hours and turn it on again,” Ipp
replied, with big puppy-dog eyes.
“Indeed.
Lucky the packet was ready for pick-up. I shudder to think what might have
happened if someone just walked through-”
“Hi.”
Cassandra waved with two fingers.
The Lady looked at
her younger self. She blinked several times in silence. Anger mixed with
confusion on her face.
“What are you
doing here?” The Lady shouted. “You are not supposed to be here.
What are you doing here?”
“But you told
me I was coming back,” Cassandra whispered.
“No I
didn’t. When did I do that?”
“Well, you
will tell me…” Cassandra paused. Tenses were hard when dealing with
time travel. “You will tell me, in the future, which is to say your
future, but today, or rather today in my time, but almost-”
“I get the
point.” The Lady interrupted. “I don’t remember this. And I
don’t like it.”
Cassandra blinked a
couple of times. How could The Lady not remember herself, the younger
Cassandra, returning to the future to meet herself? What did that mean?
“That’s
her,” Peony exclaimed, striding from the bush and pointing an accusatory
finger at The Lady. “That’s the woman who knew our names.
She’s the one who told me I was going to fall. But she was dressed
differently. Who are you?”
The Lady spun around.
She almost dropped the cup and tripped over the box. “You? What are you doing here? This isn’t
possible! You must go back immediately. Both of you.”
“Surely
there’s no harm in CJ and Pen staying just a short while,” Oli
suggested. “It’s not as if she’s going to be missed at home.
We can send her back to whatever time we like.”
“Yes, Oli, I
am fully aware of how time-travel works but… Look, Cassandra and…
and the other girl shouldn’t be here.”
“How do you
know my name?” Peony demanded.
A high-pitched
humming interrupted the heated conversation. It was coming from The Lady and
growing louder by the second.
“What’s
that?” Oli looked The Lady up and down.
“A
summons.” The Lady held up the vibrating Time Device.
“Summons to
what?”
“I
don’t know, she never told me. But when I get back, you, Cassandra, and
you, Pen, are going home. You are not supposed to be here.”
“Who never
told you?” Ipp asked.
“The
L-“ The Lady stopped herself. “Never mind. Ow!” She dropped
the cup. “That’s white hot.”
They watched the
Device rise into the air. Underneath it grew the familiar golden glimmer but it
was different. It also shone silver.
“That’s
not a normal time portal,” Cassandra observed. “What is it?”
“I told you,
I don’t know,” The Lady reiterated as the cup reached its full
height.
As The Lady walked
through the glimmer, the cup, The Lady and the portal vanished.
“Well, that
was strange.” Oli picked up the brown box. “At least she left
this.”
“What’s
in there?” Cassandra asked.
“Batteries.
She went to your time to buy them and bring them back.”
“What
f-?”
The humming
returned. There was no cup but Peony was bathed in silver and gold.
“What’s
going on?” Peony wailed. She turned her hands over. Red and orange sparks
fluttered to the ground beneath them. “Cass, help me-“
Cassandra dived.
The portal disappeared, taking Peony with it.
3. The Lady
Forgets
“Pen!”
Cassandra landed on empty sand. Her shoulder caught the corner of the buried
concrete. A large purple bump formed almost immediately. “Where’d
she go?”
Ipp and Oli’s
mouths were agape. Panic rose from the pit of Cassandra’s stomach. What
was going on?
“Everyone to
the beach!” The Lady staggered over the dune from the direction of the
beach and slid half way to the bottom in a cascade of sand.
She gasped for breath.
A dark shadow had crossed her tear streaked face. The straw hat and canvas bag
were gone. Her olive green towel was torn and blackened, her bare arms and legs
were covered in cuts and dried blood.
“What
happened to you?” Oli called, racing up the dune to help The Lady.
“Where did
you go?” Cassandra gasped. “Where’s Pen?”
“Not
now,” The Lady coughed, fending Oli off. “We have to leave. Now!
Everyone down to the beach.”
The Lady scrabbled
back up the dune and slid down the other side. Ipp, Oli and Cassandra exchanged
looks and ran after her. The Lady sat half way down the dune, staring out to
sea.
Oli crested the
dune. “The rowboat. The Flyer. Where are they?”
The three friends
overtook The Lady and sprinted down onto the harder wet sand. The Lady struggled
to her feet and stumbled to the level beach surface.
“I
don’t understand it,” Ipp muttered, kicking the water. “They
should be here. We left them here.”
“There are
still tracks,” Oli called pacing up and down the sand flattened by the
last high tide and untouched by the next. “Whoever took the boat left
lots of footprints and the rowboat’s impression is still here. They
can’t be long gone. We haven’t been here that long.”
“Look at
this.” Cassandra pointed to their left.
Etched into the
sand were words. The encroaching waves had erased several letters.
“B ARE NE
H H ND Y U. What does it mean?”
Cassandra looked to The Lady.
“Where’s
the damn boat?” Oli cursed under his breath, craning his neck and
searching for any sign of The Flyer
in the bay. Tensed fingers were leaving a deep dent in the battery box.
“There!”
Ipp pointed towards the small hump of land Cassandra had named
Cassandra blocked
the setting sun’s glare with her hand. The tiny outline of a sailing ship
was almost behind the small island’s headland.
“Why did the
crew leave without us?” Ipp asked, forlorn.
“They
didn’t,” The Lady said. She placed the Device on the dry sand,
activating the time portal.
A crack filled the
air. An arc of red light struck the ground only metres away instantly fusing
the sand into a glassy splash.
“Nephilim!”
the three teens screamed in unison.
The Time Device
seemed to be rising slower than ever. Three bronzed Nephilim loped down the
side of the dune. Another red arc flashed leaving another solid splodge in the
sand. Cassandra looked back at the message.
“BEWARE NEPH
BEHIND YOU.”
The pewter cup
hovered at its highest point.
“Everyone
through the portal,” The Lady ordered.
“But,”
Cassandra protested. “What about Pen? We can’t leave without her.
What if she comes back.”
“Get out of
here!”
The Nephilim were
almost upon them. Ipp dashed through the glimmer. The Lady took the box from
Oli’s grasp and followed close behind. Cassandra wavered.
Oli seized Cassandra’s
wrist and dragged her through the portal as a third crack ripped the air and
sizzled in the wave that obliterated the last of the sand message.
It was a strange
sensation. There had been subtle pinks and purples on the horizon but now the
sun was back in the sky. The tide had receded and the rowboat was resting in
its impression; exactly where Ipp and Oli had left it. The Flyer and its
crew of five bobbed on the swell out behind the breakers.
“We must have
just arrived,” Oli observed.
“Into the boat,”
The Lady ordered, placing the box in the bottom of the rowboat. “We have
to sail behind
“But we need
to warn ourselves,” Ipp insisted trying to run off to speak to herself.
The Lady grabbed
Ipp’s arm and shook her head. “We can’t warn ourselves. We
never did and we don’t have time. We need to leave.”
“But we have
to warn us,” Ipp pleaded.
“Then write a
message in the sand,” Oli suggested.
“Good idea.
What should I write?”
“How about
BEWARE NEPH BEHIND YOU?” Cassandra suggested with a grin.
“Good
idea,” Ipp replied, the irony completely lost on her. “I’ll
write it up high so the waves don’t wash it away.”
Cassandra opened
her mouth to argue, but The Lady touched her arm. “Don’t
bother.”
“Make ready
to sail,” Oli yelled to his crew as they rowed towards The Flyer.
“We have to be behind
“We just got
here, chief. Surely you haven’t had enough time to get the
delivery,” called a crew member. Seeing the box in the bottom of the boat
he shrugged. “Sure. You heard the man, we need to sail at once.”
No one else asked
questions. The crew set to work. Once Oli and the others climbed aboard, the
anchor was stowed and canvas flapped in the breeze. Oli swung the tiller. The
Flyer took the wind. The small rowboat tagged behind like a child’s
toy.
The Lady
disappeared below deck with the box of batteries, giving strict instructions
that no one should follow. The cabin door slammed shut.
Cassandra looked
around for something to do. Finding nothing she sat in the cock-pit next to
Ipp. Oli and the Centaurs tacked The
Flyer towards
Cassandra opened
her mouth to speak to her young friend but was met with a glare that flung daggers.
She snapped her mouth closed and looked out at the horizon. Cassandra fidgeted,
twisting her sun-shirt’s fabric over her fingers. Cassandra had forgotten
the encrusted mess on her front. Most of the sand had dried and fallen off,
leaving the chocolate-red stain on her sun shirt and a perfect imprint beneath
on her swimming costume and chest.
“I need some
clean clothes,” she finally said and wobbled over to the cabin door. She
slid it aside.
“I said, I
need to be alone,” The Lady yelled. “Get out of here! Can’t
you see I’m busy? I’m tired.” The Lady’s tirade ceased
when she saw Cassandra crouched in the doorway. “Oh, it’s you. I
wondered when you’d come. I know I would. Get in here and shut the door.”
Cassandra did as
she was told and sat across the small cabin table from The Lady. A small
modern-day first aid kit lay open between them. The Lady dabbed at cuts with
wet gauze.
“Go on, ask
me the questions you know I can’t answer.”
“Where’s
Pen?”
“Safe.”
The Lady winced as a cut began to bleed again. She held it tight to stem the
flow. “When we get back to the Centaur Base Camp, she’ll be there.
I promise.”
“But where
did she go? Did she go with you?”
“Sort
of,” The Lady checked the cut. It was still oozing. “But I
can’t tell you where or when it was. I just can’t.”
“Why? What
happened there? Why are you all cut up like this? Was there a fight?”
“You could
say that.” The Lady pulled the wrapping from a bandage and secured it
around the deep cut. The Lady sighed. “Cassandra, remember I told you
about the Time Travel theories?”
Cassandra nodded.
Last time The Lady had outlined three time travel theories.
Set Time: time was
unchangeable - whatever was, always was and whatever will be, always will be.
This meant that time travel only fulfilled the time-line, never changed it. If
you met yourself you would always remember it.
However, there were
two other theories of time travel which had devastating implications. These
allowed for the alteration of the time-line: Outside Changeable Time and
Inside Changeable Time. A small change in the past could drastically affect
the future.
Outside Changeable
Time:
the time-traveller knew about the changes but was unaffected by them. Killing
your mother in the past would not end in your own demise. It seemed like a
paradox.
Inside Changeable
Time:
the time-traveller did not know about the changes and was also affected by them, so if you went back in time and
killed your mother, you would cease to exist. If she thought about it, an even
greater paradox. And therefore, Set Time
was the most likely candidate.
“Cassandra, I
don’t remember any of this. I don’t remember you or Peony coming to
this time. I don’t remember my first summons,
I don’t remember being chased by the Nephilim. But I should. Yet, my
future self knows about it. She just told me the Nephilim would be on the
beach.”
“But how?
What does it mean?”
The Lady went to
work on the dried blood on her legs. “I don’t know what it means.
That Lady said you were supposed to be here... You know, the older Lady. And
Peony will meet us at Base Camp. So we are going straight there after a short
detour. Then you and Peony are both going home. There will be no
arguments.” The Lady lifted her shirt to reveal a large bruise on her
hip. “How did I get that?”
Cassandra winced and
stood to leave. Then remembered the real reason she had come into the cabin.
“Oh, I need some clean clothes.”
“Dear
me,” The Lady giggled. “You are a mess, I’m sorry. Have a
look in the compartment in the front and you’ll find something. Leave
your modern clothes with me. I’ll take care of them. You really did make
a mess. How did you do that?”
“Peony fell
on top of me and squashed the iceblocks all over my chest.”
The Lady blinked.
“Was that the summer after Year Ten when Peony came to the beach for the first
time?”
“Yes.”
Cassandra rummaged through a compartment and pulled out some camouflage pants
and a shirt. Holding them up, she decided they were the right size.
“Peony ran
back from the toilet and tripped… but that’s not how I
remember it; I didn’t have any ice-blocks.“ The Lady abandoned her
wounds and fiddled with the tip of her plait. “How can it be
different?”
The Lady went into
a trance, staring at the wall.
“I
don’t know,” Cassandra replied, equally disturbed by the
revelation.
Leaving her swimmers
in a pile, Cassandra opened the cabin door and stepped back into the cock-pit.
Ipp had moved to the stern and was straining to watch the receding beach.
Cassandra went to stand beside her in silence. It was as if they were watching
a suspense movie to which they already knew the ending, but they could not look
away. Cassandra’s heart raced. Oli called for tack after tack. Centaurs
yanked ropes as they zig-zagged towards the safety of
Back on the beach,
The Lady finally appeared at the top of the sand dune, then Oli, then herself
and Ipp.
“There we
are,” Ipp pointed.
Everyone paused and
turned to watch.
Their previous
selves ran down to the surf. The Lady activated the Time Device. They read
Ipp’s message on the sand. The three Nephilim appeared and fired their
red saffiri. It took a few seconds for the crack to reach The Flyer but
it broke the reverie and increased the urgency of reaching the island’s
shadow. Ipp raced to help. Another red flash and another crack.
The Nephilim strode
towards the water’s edge. Ipp, then The Lady and finally Oli and herself
darted through the glimmering cylinder.
The third red arc flashed with the crack coming as an afterthought as The
Flyer sailed behind
“We head for
the open sea and the rendezvous point,” Oli ordered. “Everyone did
a good job. But there is no time to relax just yet. Not until we reach
home.”
Although still
tense, the mood on The Flyer lightened
a little when Centaurs called jokes across the deck.
But
Cassandra’s mind registered none of it. Where was Peony? Where had The
Lady taken her? Where had The Lady gone? What was the fight about? What was
awaiting her when she was finally summoned? Too many questions and no answers.
Out the heads, Oli
steered The Flyer south. The sun had set
again and the western horizon was glowing pink and purple. Stars twinkled in
the east and the Milky Way painted itself across the darkening sky.
Ipp maintained a
stony silence.
Cassandra’s
feet skimmed the water as she watched the row-boat bob about in The
Flyer’s wake. Oli followed the coastline in the last of dusk’s
light. Night seemed almost complete when Oli called a halt to their progress
and the anchor splashed into the depths.
“Why are we
stopping?” Cassandra asked, turning to see the feverish furling of sails.
“We’re
a little early,” Oli replied, pointing off to the shore. “No
matter, we will wait until the ready signal.”
The Flyer was anchored at the intersection of four large
bonfires burning bright in the pitch darkness. Two on the beach were lined up,
one behind the other. Another pair were lined up on the head; one fire on a
rock shelf just higher than the pounding waves and another atop the cliff
above.
Centaurs hung
shaded lanterns in the rigging and settled to rest on the deck. Oli sat at the
bow of the boat with his crew.
Ipp finally spoke.
“I’m sorry about your friend, Pen. She does look so familiar, but I
cannot say why.”
“Poor, Pen. I
really hope she’s safe.”
“You never
told her about us, did you?” Ipp added.
“She was… is my best friend.
I should have told her. I should have told her everything - she would have
understood, I know she would. But now she’s been taken somewhere and I
can’t help her.” Cassandra kicked the water. Why hadn’t she
trusted Peony? It was a question she had asked herself all evening.
“It is good
to have you here again,” Ipp said, but somehow it seemed as though she
were saying it to convince herself. “I was beginning to think we would
never see you again.”
“How long has
it been since I was here?”
“It’s
been about eighteen Stones.” There was a hint of accusation. “I am
now fourteen and a half Summers and Oli is seventeen and a half; one and half
older than when you left.”
“You’ve
caught up a bit. It’s only been eleven months… aah… Stones for
me,” Cassandra said, changing to the correct terminology.
“I’m fifteen and a half Summers old.”
Ipp smirked.
“Everyone here knows you’re from the past; you don’t need to
pretend anymore.”
Cassandra felt as
though she were being watched and turned to catch Oli looking away. He returned
to talking to the small crew and a few wisps of hair blew around his face. He
looked over again and their eyes met for a brief moment before Cassandra looked
down at the deck.
Ipp followed her
gaze. “He never did take a wife at sixteen.”
At sixteen in their
society, the ruling class came of age and took a spouse and yet Oli remained
single.
Anyway, what did
Ipp mean by that?
“Really?”
Cassandra said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“No,”
Ipp replied.
“Ipp, how did
the Nephilim find us?” Cassandra mused, trying to divert Ipp from the
thought of marriage.
“I
don’t know. They have never come to that beach before.”
“Maybe they
tracked the time portal.” Cassandra offered.
“Maybe Ipp
and Oli left the Time Device on for too long,” The Lady growled, climbing
onto deck and interrupting their conversation. “Anything is
possible.”
She had covered any
evidence of injury under long dark green clothing. There was a rectangular
bulge in her right pants pocket and a large white beach ball under her arm.
“Would you
like to let them know you are coming, or shall I?” The Lady called to the
front of the boat.
“You do
it,” Oli replied, rising to join The Lady in the boat’s cockpit.
“They’ll be expecting us soon, anyway.”
“Who is
expecting us?” Cassandra said, sliding into the cockpit next to The Lady.
“The Centaur
Base at Wood O’ The Vale,” Oli replied. “We have their
batteries for the next Stone.”
“Batteries?
What for?”
“For
this,” The Lady replied and pulled a small hand-held walkie-talkie from
her pocket. “The secret to the Centaur rescues.”
(c)
2008 Lynda A. Calder. Updated 15th July, 2008.