Twin Speex: Time Traitors Book II (11 page)

“Super-evolved humans we may be, but we are still only human. There is much that remains a mystery.”

“Great,” Odell said with resignation, “What do I have to do?”

“We now believe that the alternate reality where Odette was born is a default timeline. Any unnatural interference will always result in some variation of it.”

Odell gave him a quizzical look and opened his mouth to speak.

“Yes, yes,” Ambrosius anticipated him, “one would assume infinite variation, but time is always seeking to contract and will try to revert the timeline to a period of tremendous social constriction. And even within this alternate reality, the differences can number in the billions, although it may be only a small change.” He sighed a little sadly. “We were confident that we had discovered the pattern, a formula that would, when interference occurred, help us determine in what direction the timeline would veer and easily correct it. So confident were we… well, we felt secure in initiating our own historical mission to… um… to promote a more expansive future.”

Odell noted his hesitancy. “What happened?”

“We don’t know,” he answered bluntly. “We believe there has been a seismic upheaval in the timeline. The dimensions are jumbled and fragmented, making it especially difficult to see how it is manifesting in the present or future.” Ambrosius made an uncharacteristically agitated gesture. “It is almost as if the interference is random or, ah… childish even. That is why we need Odette so desperately now. She is more capable of sifting through the obstructions.”

“And you need me,” Odell asked again, “to do what?”

“You must take over Odette’s mission,” he answered. “While she searches the dimensions for this latest breach, you must address a specific need in the past.”

Odell looked at him questioningly. “Okay, where then?”

“It is a time of expansion and connection,” Ambrosius explained. “A time of much promise, but also of missed opportunities. It was to be the beginning of an epoch of long and peaceful balance, and it is there you must change the course of history.”

Odell stiffened. “
Change
history? Not preserve it?”

Ambrosius cleared his throat uncomfortably and admitted, “It is not ideal, but it is the only way to reverse the damage that time has done in the ensuing centuries.”

Odell stared down at his hands uncertainly. When he looked up again, Ambrosius had stood and walked over to the edge of the plateau. Odell joined him there.

“Okay, when?”

“It is a time not entirely unfamiliar to you, only a few years from when you were held captive,” Ambrosius replied. “But before I go into detail, I must ask if you understand. Not that you believe, or even agree with what I have told you, but that you truly understand what you are up against.”

Odell turned his gaze from the horizon to look at the impassive profile.

“Basically,” he replied dryly, “time is the Devil.”

Nine

AVA PEERED AT the lit screen of her handheld palmavox and twisted the dial to expand the image. She had never before been tempted to explore the tunnels running beneath the campus, and today was no exception. What drove her into the dark, musty, and enclosed spaces that she normally would have avoided at all costs was the need to reach Odell without being detected by the constabulary patrol that had followed her last night and then again this morning.

She had seen various maps of the tunnels before. Some included passageways that were only rumored to exist. Although, she personally didn’t believe one could have escaped discovery by the avid student sleuths who had traversed these subterranean byways for at least the last century. However, standing now at the intersection of two obscure tunnels, she began to suspect that her path was indeed leading to one such hidden gem.

Odell’s message had explicitly said that she was not to attempt the passage if there were any possibility of being observed. Although dimly lit by flickering lights along the walls, Ava clicked on her electric torch to search the tunnels more effectively for any other people. Detecting none, she put the torch back in her bag and walked forward to stand at the intersection of a narrow X created by the two crossing tunnels.

Pipes snaked up and down the walls and hung in profusion from the ceiling. At this time of year, they carried hot vapor to heat the buildings, effectively creating a somewhat tropical atmosphere in the tunnels as well.

Ava loosened the high-buttoned collar of her shirt and was grateful she had eschewed the nicety of a corset for this particular outing. As it was, her dress was practical without being entirely unfashionable. She wore a blue and white striped shirt over which was thrown her favorite safari jacket. Cinched with a wide black belt, her heavy cotton navy-blue skirt stopped just above worn, yet still serviceable boots. She had piled her thick, tightly coiled hair atop her head, but had left the matching wide-brimmed plush hat back at her office.

Having memorized the map, Ava tucked the palmavox into one of her many jacket pockets. She tugged her leather gloves more securely onto her hands and pushed the canvas bag slung over her shoulder so that it rested against the small of her back.

As per Odell’s instructions, she found the third pipe up from the floor and counted its sections as it crisscrossed the wall and finally veered off down the right-most tunnel. When she reached the twelfth section, she stopped.

Ava tentatively touched the pipe. Even through her gloves, she could tell it was cold. She stepped back and saw that the brickwork right above this section appeared rippled, but still looked like a solid piece. This was an optical illusion according to Odell.

Ava grasped the pipes and climbed to the rippled brickwork as if ascending a ladder. She stood on the second topmost pipe and reached her hand up to feel a little ledge where there should have been a wall.

Ava descended the pipes and stood at the bottom staring up at the spot where she had placed her hand. She unslung the bag from her shoulder and, calculating its trajectory, heaved it up and over the highest pipe. It disappeared, and she heard it land with a muted thud above her.

She almost laughed aloud with delight. Ava hated these underground warrens far from the sun, but who could resist a hidden passage? She looked cautiously about her again and then climbed the pipes to strenuously pull herself up and over the brick ledge and into a narrow opening.

She lay panting in a low-ceilinged tunnel that curved off into the darkness. After a few minutes, she sat up and pulled the electric torch from her bag. She was of above average height for a woman and had to stoop a little until the tunnel widened and enlarged after several yards.

Ava felt the floor slant dramatically uphill as she walked for the next several minutes until dead-ending into an oddly disjointed staircase. She took the stairs up and emerged headfirst into an elegantly wood-paneled hallway lit by glass-enclosed wall sconces, a décor that would have been more suited to the lobby of a fancy hotel.

She pulled out the palmavox and checked the map.

“Third door on the left,” she mumbled to herself as she walked down the hallway.

Ava stood outside the door for a few seconds to brush the dust from her clothes and pin several stray strands of hair back into place. She didn’t bother knocking but opened the door to an extremely commonplace room.

It was a study, a very nice study, but nothing out of the ordinary. Odell sat at a large wooden library desk, illuminated by two cut crystal hurricane table lamps and with papers scattered about the surface. There were shelves full of books, a sofa, and two comfortable-looking armchairs. A lovely oriental rug covered the floor, and a small fire burned in the grate.

Odell looked up, his chin in his hand and his eyebrows raised in mild surprise. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

She walked into the room while pulling off her gloves and then unslung the bag from over her head and set it down on the sofa. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Because we’ve experienced a time shift,” he answered succinctly.

Ava blew out a long breath and shook her head. “I believe you, Odell, I really do, but you’ve got to realize how difficult it is
to
believe.” She laughed a little. “So what was I wearing the last time you saw me. I’m really fascinated that women can show bare legs in public.”

He smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you had on a short, fitted-type skirt with rather thick tights and knee-high boots,” he replied, a little embarrassed at his detailed description.

“But I had some leg showing, right? Tights, I presume, are similar to stockings?”

Odell looked around and smiled uncomfortably. “Yes, they are. And you did indeed have a noticeable expanse of leg showing, albeit covered up by the tights.”

Ava grinned defiantly and nodded her head with approval. “Good,” she said, shaking the dust again from her heavy skirts. “It is this very fact that reassures me that I am working for good against evil,” she pronounced jokingly.

Odell laughed and looked down at the package on the desk in front of him. He was contemplating his next move and how to explain it to her.

“Hmm?” He looked up abruptly. “You said something?”

Ava was sitting on one of the armchairs. She had discarded her boots and had propped her feet up on the brick hearth for warmth. With her arms crossed, she stared into the fire and repeated, “I asked if you had thought anymore about my involvement. Why I retain knowledge of our meetings from one timeline to the other? Why I’m even essentially the same person?”

Odell looked at her profile. She was
essentially
the same person, he acknowledged to himself. She was a professor of liberal arts and grew up in New York City. She had danced at his mother’s studio and was a close friend of Ettie’s, but her quiet reserve and controlled presence was much less pronounced. The dazzling smile came more readily to her face, and she had a relaxed confidence that was a natural extension of a society that had never known the horrors of slavery or the indignities of racial segregation.

He shook his head ruefully. While the ruling class was lily white, the racial mix and social cohesiveness of the lower classes was, perhaps, the only truly good thing about this timeline. The collective sense of belonging was an unintended result of the tyranny and repressive order of this alternate reality. Odell felt a sense of comfort and even wholeness when wandering the city, seeing the mix of various skin tones, the graceful blend of cultures and traditions, the lovely variety of language and dialect. That it was encased within the deprivation of poverty and oppression never failed to amaze him.

“Odell?”

He looked up, clearing his throat. “Yes, I have given it some thought.” He rose and walked around the desk to take a seat in the other armchair. Leaning his elbows on his knees and staring into the fire, he explained, “I think it can only be your association with me, my decision to consult you on the matter. I appear to have inherited some… some abilities with regards to time.”

She looked at him questioningly.

He went on to tell her of his encounter with Ambrosius and what he had learned of the Time Traitors, his own lineage included. “When the time shifts, I believe I remain constant. Those who are most closely associated with me are pulled into…” He shook his head, searching for the right words. “…some sort of temporal wake created by my movements. Something that keeps you connected to my activities, my purpose…”

He sat back and ran his hands through his hair and admitted ruefully, “Honestly, I really don’t know.”

It was a gesture that Ava was learning to recognize. He was tired and frustrated. She wondered when he’d last slept.

She heard him draw in a sharp breath and then let it out slowly. Ava looked questioningly over at him. “Another shift?”

Odell nodded and stood up from a small conference table in the middle of a fair-sized and very modern laboratory. If he was going to make a move, it had to be now.

He crossed to the desk with its modular components, its ergonomically designed chair, and his computer opened on top. It had shelves above it and drawers and file cabinets to either side. He picked up the packet and turned to see Ava staring at the equations scribbled across the large portable white board.

She wore slim, loose-fitted cargo pants cinched just above her hips with a wide, black leather belt. On her feet were the same dance-type tennis shoes he had often seen Ettie wearing. She topped off her spelunking ensemble with a long-sleeved, fitted, navy blue and white striped tee shirt and black hoodie. It was an oddly modern incarnation of her previous outfit, and it made him feel momentarily disassociated from the present. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Opening them, he refocused and joined her at the white board.

Ava looked up at him and asked, “How did you find this place?”

He was a little embarrassed that he had this secret lab in addition to his well-equipped official lab when she didn’t even have her own office. But he smiled at the memory and answered readily, “I inherited it,” he said. “This corridor of labs is hidden underground beneath the physic’s building, but I actually access it from the attic.”

“There’s an attic in the physic’s building?”

“Not really an attic, I guess… more like a crawlspace or what used to be called a priest hole. It’s in between the topmost floor and the observatory. It’s hard to explain. I’d have to show you.”

He wiped off a part of the white board and drew a portion of wall jutting out from the corner of a dead-ending hallway.

“This is one of those hallways that are sometimes found in old buildings. They really don’t go anywhere, but they typically have a least a few rooms along them. This one is notable for its lack of offices, its lack of anything really, no classrooms, no nothing. Even weirder, it doesn’t just dead-end, it turns right and then stops at a mural.”

“A mural?”

“Yeah, a kind of Roman frieze. I asked the maintenance people about it and was told the schematics showed some crawlspaces behind it, you know, for plumbing and such.”