Hexad: The Ward (7 page)

"What?"

"Maybe you should, you know, just so it's done with. Look, when we had the conversation, the night before the madness, and we said we would bury proof that time travel existed, well, we know it does, so what can the harm be?"
Am I just trying to convince myself here?

"You sure?" Dale stared into the shallow hole he'd dug, as if waiting for something to suddenly appear. The robin jumped in and grabbed a worm before retreating into the hedge to eat its prize in the dry.

"No, not really. But at least it will be over with. I don't know how many times I've looked at this damn spot, it must be thousands by now." It was impossible not to glance at it whenever she walked into the garden, or gazed out of the kitchen window — there it was, an innocuous patch of grass that taunted her with its hidden secrets.

"Haha, I know what you mean. I don't even walk over it in case I do something I shouldn't. Silly, eh?"

"Sensible, more like."

"Okay, here I go then." Dale got back on his knees and continued to use the trowel.

Amanda stood in the rain and watched as Dale dug deeper, the sodden earth coming out in small clumps before breaking up as he dumped it onto the lawn. It was ridiculous, she knew it, as whatever they dug up would mean little since they already knew time travel was possible. Still, it was the fact that something was supposed to be there. It was unfinished business and it irked her no end not knowing exactly what it was.

Clunk.

"There's something here," said Dale, tapping again with the tip of the trowel.

"What is it?" Amanda peered into the hole, but there was nothing to see but wet soil.

"Dunno, hang on." Dale dug around the item in the hole then put his hands in and pulled out what looked like a tin of her favorite chocolates: Quality Street. Dale held it up to her as if he was expecting her to reveal all the secrets.

"Don't look at me," shrugged Amanda. "I wouldn't go burying it. I guess this is it, the proof."

Dale shook the tin but it sounded empty. Then he did it again, putting an ear close to the dirty metal. "It sounds like there might be something inside, but it's hard to tell with all the rain. Come on, let's get it inside. I'm soaking and I'm getting cold."

"Wow! You, getting cold? That's a first. Here, let me." Amanda held out a hand; Dale gave her the tin. With the hole forgotten, and the trowel left on the grass, they made their way down the garden. After taking off their shoes they went into the kitchen, alternately smiling and frowning at each other, not knowing whether to be excited, terrified, or both.

Dale rinsed his hands under the tap; Amanda washed the tin and her own hands. Neither of them said a word, just stood staring at the brightly colored metal after she dried it then placed it on the counter top. She knew she was out of sorts as there was no way she would ever normally use a tea towel for anything but drying the dishes.

"Amanda, do you think we should?" asked Dale, watching the tin like it could explode at any moment.

"No, not really. Tellan said we weren't to dig it up, that we were just to put things right, do what we did, and to leave well enough alone."

"So we should do that, right? At least we've dug up proof, that's enough now, isn't it?"

"I suppose so, although this isn't proof of anything, is it? It's just a tin."

"Yeah but we put it there, in the past."

"If we did that, and we... Oh! Oh, no!" Realization swept over Amanda in a sickening wave. Her guts churned, she went hot, then cold, then hot again. She still had her coat on; it made her feel like she was buried alive. She stripped it off in a panic and rain droplets splashed all over the floor. She just stood there, staring at the tin, holding her coat, knowing they had done something terrible.

"What? What is it?" Dale looked around the kitchen frantically, wondering what had freaked Amanda out so much.

"We've messed up, we've messed up big time."

"What, the tin you mean? So what, we dug it up? It doesn't matter."

"This is why Tellan said not to go digging, to leave well alone. We've dug it up, so now we know it's there. Was there, I mean."

"Yeah, so? Look, it's just a tin." Dale picked it up and shook it. They both heard the rustling inside, the sound that had been almost imperceptible outside.

"Dale, you don't get it, do you?" Dale shook his head and began to prize the lid off. "No, wait. Look, put it down a minute will you? I need to think. I need to talk to you."

Dale put the tin down, hair dripping water. "Okay, just let me get changed. If we're gonna have a chat then I need to towel my hair and get some dry things on."

"Okay, I don't suppose it matters now anyway. It's too late, there's no hurry."

Dale stared at Amanda, clearly confused. "Hold that thought, I'll be back soon. You okay, babe?"

"Yes. No. Oh, I don't know. I think we messed up, Dale, like, really, really messed up."

"We can't have done anything worse than what we did a few months ago. What we stopped happening. Just wait, okay?"

Amanda nodded and Dale left to dry himself off. She gave the tin an evil stare and went to hang up her coat.

~~~

The tin, dry and clean, was on the Ercol coffee table. Amanda and Dale sat on the floor, staring at it as though it held the answer to everything and was also the harbinger of their doom.

"Okay, what's all this about?" asked Dale. "What do you think has gone wrong just because we dug this up?"

"I think we better open it first, just to make sure I'm right. It won't make any difference now, not now we've dug it up anyway."

"Okay," said Dale warily, looking as nervous as Amanda felt. "You know you're freaking me out, right?"

"Haha, sorry. But I am freaked out, and you will be, properly, once I tell you what I think we've done."

With a look of utter confusion, Dale picked up the tin and prized the lid off with a struggle. "Damn, why do they make these things so hard to open?"

"Chocolates are always worth a battle. It makes you feel better if it involves a little work."

"Ah, got it." The lid came off with a pop. A piece of paper fell to the carpet. Dale picked up the scrap. It looked to Amanda like it was torn from one of the notepads they kept in the kitchen drawer for making lists for groceries.

"What's it say?" Amanda tried to peer over Dale's shoulder but he got up and put the note flat to his chest.

"Before I read it, what's this all about, Amanda? Am I going to make it worse just by reading this?" Dale put a hand through his still-damp hair, brushing it away from his eyes.

I guess I may as well tell him, as long as I'm right, that is.
Amanda chewed on her bottom lip, not even realizing. She looked out of the living room window, hating the depressingly low cloud, the drizzle. What she wouldn't give for the bright days of summer. She noticed that the windows needed a clean — how did they get so smudged on the inside? It was like they had a dog that slobbered all over them or something.

"Amanda? Hey, hey."

"Oh, sorry, I was miles away. Okay, look, we've dug up this tin, right?" Dale nodded, the hand holding the note moved to his side. "And there's a note. So, we've proved to ourselves that time travel exists at some point in the future, so we send a note back to ourselves."

"So? We know it exists, we did it. We jumped."

"Yes, but we were done with it all, right? We did what Tellan asked of us and ensured that the other us finished what they started and put the Universe to rights. But now..."

"Now what? Come on, you're making me really nervous here."

"Now we have to time travel again. At least two jumps."

"What! Why? No way, I'm not going to risk messing up entire worlds or anything."

"We have to, don't you see? We've given ourselves no choice."

Dale stared at Amanda, face a mask of confusion, then he stared first at the note, then at the tin. "Aw, shit. I get it. We buried this tin and the note, so, well, so we have to jump to make sure we bury it now, right?"

"Exactly. We do it in the future so that means we have to. We have to take a tin and write whatever is on that note and jump back in time so we can find it like we just did. We messed up."

"And if we don't?"

Amanda stared at Dale and wondered if he was really considering not doing something that clearly had to be done as it had, to all intents and purposes, already been done by them. "If we don't, then we probably cause a warp in reality and... Look, I don't know, but do you want to risk it? You saw all that craziness when we jumped before, inverted worlds and meeting ourselves, all the madness Tellan talked about, do you want to risk any of that happening? Getting caught up in any more insanity?"

"Absolutely not, it's why we haven't touched the bloody Hexad, isn't it? So we can try to carry on as normal, even though deep down we both know this isn't normal, or even real." Dale swept a hand across the room, indicating everything. The note fell from his fingers so he picked it up.

"What do you mean, not real?"

Dale sighed. "Amanda, look, let's stop kidding ourselves. This is all a lie. It's not our world. Things aren't quite right, are they? The little things, stuff like plants in the garden not where they used to be, the pub being different, countless things. They all make sense but they aren't how they were."

"That's just a byproduct of the time travel, isn't it? But it's still all real."

"Okay, it's real, it's just not
our
real. But we live with it as we have no choice, and now we will probably make it all a damn sight worse. Ugh, I can't believe we've done this to ourselves."

Amanda moved to Dale and hugged him. He was right, they'd messed up, but maybe it wouldn't be as bad as they thought. Maybe if they jumped and put the tin in the garden that would be it. No loops, the circle would be closed and everything would be all right. Or all right-ish, anyway. Amanda stepped back, feeling better after the closeness.

She sighed deeply, tried to feel brave and squared her shoulders. "Okay, what does it say?"

Dale unfolded the note and read, "Welcome to the Hexad experience. You guys are in for a busy day. Dale. p.s. How's the hangover? If I remember right then it was a bit of a mad night. Drink some more coffee, trust me, you're gonna need it."

"See?" said Amanda, feeling like her stomach was about to explode through her skin it churned and hurt so much. "We've disrupted things on an epic scale."

"Huh? I don't get it. The note doesn't make any sense."

"Dale, it makes perfect sense. You have to remember that we would have read it the day everything went crazy. If we'd dug it up that morning, the morning after we had the conversation, then it would make perfect sense. The us that buried that note thought we would dig it up then, but we didn't."

"Okay," said Dale, looking utterly bewildered, "then that means a different version of us buried it. That means we are in the clear, right?"

Amanda slumped into a chair, not knowing what was real or right any more. "Can I see it?" Dale handed her the note and she read it herself. "Well, it's your handwriting. You wrote it so that means you have to write it."

"What!? Look, this is just stupid. The other me, the one probably living my life right now, where everything feels right, he will write it, make sure everything is okay, won't he?"

"Dale, I don't know. I'm not sure of anything. But what if all the problems we had in the past, the stuff we don't remember, The Chamber and all that, what if part of it happened because we didn't put the tin and the note in the ground? Could it be one of those paradox things? I think we should, I think we should do it this very instant, just to be sure." Amanda stood, mind made up, and went and grabbed a notepad from the kitchen.

She handed Dale the pad and a cheap pen, then gave him the piece of paper. "Make sure you copy it exactly, word for word. It has to look like the one we already have."

Dale halted, pen poised just above the paper. "I'll use the one we already have, then we know it will be right, no mistakes."

"I don't think it works like that, Dale. It has to be written in the first place, so you have to write it. Otherwise it wouldn't make sense."

"Like this does," muttered Dale.

"Just do it. I'm going to get a tin. I think there's one in the cupboard." Amanda went into the kitchen and grabbed a tin from where she kept their snacks. There were a few chocolates left so she ate them quickly, for the first time ever not enjoying the favorite ones she always kept for last. As she went back into the living room Dale finished writing the note and held it next to the other, comparing.

"They're identical."

"Okay, good. Put it in the tin." Dale dropped it inside; Amanda put the lid back on. "Now we go and bury it."

"Argh, this is totally doing my head in. Are you sure?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. But it sounds right, doesn't it? Like what we would have to do to keep things in the correct order."

"I suppose so. Okay," said Dale, mind clearly made up, "let's just get this over with, and hopefully we can have a normal rest of the day."

"I hope so."

Amanda went to get the Hexad.

Peter

Present Day

Amanda stretched on tip-toes and reached for the towel they had wrapped the Hexad in before putting it on the top shelf of the wardrobe in the spare bedroom. She half expected it to not be there, that it was just a figment of her imagination, the bump on her head that fateful day scrambling her brain a little.

"Ah, bugger." The towel fell to the floor with a thud, unraveling as it hit the ground. The Hexad rolled out, all too real. "Oh well, wishful thinking I suppose." Amanda bent and picked it up carefully, staring at the flashing 3, the familiar, strange yet comforting feeling washing over her as though she was sinking into a hot spring. It brought back memories in vivid detail of the jumps they had made — when was it, months ago now?