Hexad: The Chamber (8 page)

He knew it was wishful thinking and it didn't take long for his unease to manifest itself in the most worrying of ways.

Ding-dong. Ding-dong.

"I'll get it," said Amanda.

"Don't," croaked Dale, throat going dry, palms beginning to sweat.

"Why not?" she was already headed out the living room towards the front door.

"Because I have a bad feeling about it, that's why."

"Don't be silly, it's probably just the postman." She was gone.

On a Saturday, at this time? Yeah right.

Dale could hear voices but couldn't make out what was being said. Finally, Amanda came back into the living room where he was sat nervously on the sofa.

"Who was it?"

Amanda stepped aside and said, "It was the Detective Inspector. He wants to have a word."

"Thank you. How are you today sir?"

Dale stood, almost knocking over his coffee on Amanda's precious Ercol table. "Um, I'm fine. You?" he said, giving Amanda the daggers, who just shrugged her shoulders in apology — what was she supposed to do? But there was something else, an uneasiness in her eyes even though she was trying to hide it. It wasn't surprising, this was no stranger, even if Dale didn't recall meeting him.

"Good, good. Would you be Mr. Ando?"

Dale shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, the old familiar stress reaction to those in authority surfacing — this time it was a reaction he couldn't be accused of over-dramatizing. Here he was, the man that was involved in bringing about the ruination of everything. In his living room! "I would. What can I do for you Detective Cray?"

The Detective paused just as he was about to speak. "How did you know my name? We haven't met, and your wife didn't give my name to you."

"She's not my wife, she's my partner. And, um, I guess I must recognize you from the TV or something. You know, when they interview you after you take down some drug lord or something."

Christ, I'm rambling like a loon.

Cray shook it off, moving onto other things. "Hmm, I don't know about that, but may I have a word sir? With both of you?"

"What's this about Detective?" said Amanda, moving into the room from where she'd been standing in the doorway.

"I'm afraid we are going to have to ask you to evacuate. We've had a bomb scare and we need to take all necessary precautions."

"Is that right?" said Dale.

Cray looked confused. "Yes sir, that is right. We had an anonymous tip-off and we need to be sure it is safe for you and the other residents."

"And just where is this bomb, may I ask?"

"We were informed that it is in your back garden, buried against your boundary with the fields to the east. Now, there is no need for alarm, but if you could gather up—"

"Won't be a minute Inspector, or is it Detective? I just need a word with my wife. Um, my partner." Dale grabbed Amanda and pulled her into the kitchen, shutting the door before Cray had a chance to object.

"What are you doing Dale?" whispered Amanda.

"Don't you get it? It's him." Dale wiped his hands on his jeans, smearing them dark.

"Of course it's him. He introduced himself, and I've met him before."

"I know, and he was younger, wasn't he? Look, this is the future him, the one Tellan has been talking about. He's trying to set it all in motion so that a younger him gets to have a Hexad and the whole sorry string of events happens over again, at least in whatever way it did happen now I didn't open the tin. He must be trying to force events to get back in alignment with how they happened for him in the past."

"How would he know that things didn't go according to how they did before though? It either all happened or it didn't. And how do you remember him? I thought you didn't recall any of what happened?"

Dale didn't get the chance to reply, and he didn't know how he knew Cray, or felt like he did, but he had a picture of the man in his head for some reason, and he was younger than this man.

"Because I already did it," said Cray from the doorway.

Dale felt like his palms were pouring water onto the tiles; he felt sick with himself for the reaction to authority, even when this was clearly far from normal police business.

Amanda turned sharply at the interjection. "What? Already did what?"

Cray leaned casually against the door jamb, eyes focused on Amanda and Dale like he knew they were thinking of running, but wouldn't. "I already got the Hexads and I'm still here, so I am sure that one way or another I shall get them again. The only question is whether or not you are going to make it easy or difficult for me?"

"Easy."

"Difficult." Amanda and Dale spoke at the same time, eliciting nothing but a wry smile from Cray.

Cray watched them as silence tugged at Dale like a tide threatening to pull him under. What was Cray up to?

"It's a pity, I was hoping that neither of you would remember me from whatever future you have clearly already experienced. I was honestly hoping this would be easy and you would never have met me up until now, but that doesn't appear to be the case at all, does it Dale?" Cray turned his full attention on him, clearly expecting an explanation.

"You were a good man, when we met you. Well, sort of anyway. Mostly," said Amanda, speaking for Dale.

"I'm a good guy now, too, although I did have to arrange a little accident for me earlier today so I could be here. I was a little worried about that, paradoxes and all that, but everything seems to be working out fine."

"You did that too, when we met you before," said Amanda.

"Hmm. And you Dale, what do you remember?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing. I woke up and the world went mad on me, that's it."

"But you know me." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, no. I don't know."

"No matter. Since this isn't going to go how I had planned, I guess it will have to go like this."

"Like this? Oh." Dale stared at the gun. It felt surreal, like it was a toy. Dale couldn't avert his eyes from the small weapon in Cray's hand pointing directly at them both, and all he could think of was that he thought it would look bigger. It seemed so innocuous, the dull gray metal and the dark barrel, almost like if Cray pulled the trigger it would just shoot a jet of water and then the fun would begin.

"Something amusing you Dale?" asked Cray, raising his arm and pointing the gun directly at Dale's head.

What is wrong with me? A madman with a gun that will ruin the world and I'm thinking about when I was a kid playing water pistol fights with my mates.

"Eh? Oh, sorry. No. Well, go and get them then, that's what you are here for, we won't stop you."

"I don't think so, do you? Move, to the door." Cray motioned for them to lead the way, tapping his foot impatiently while he waited for Dale and Amanda to put on footwear that was normally banned from anywhere apart from the kitchen. Cray had clearly not been told to take his shoes off by Amanda — it just wasn't the kind of thing you did to a man that had ruined countless versions of your world, your life.

"What's the point of this?" asked Dale, hopping on one foot trying to do up his boot.

"Of what?" Cray motioned them out the door with the gun.

"Of going through this charade? Why bother digging them up? You must already have the Hexads if you are here, and have already got rid of the version of you that would have found them."

"Because this is how I discover them, so this is how it has to happen. Time's funny like that Dale: some things simply cannot be changed or you risk ripping the world in two."

"And you know what happens if you do this? That reality won't stand for it, that everyone disappears?"

"It doesn't matter, there are countless timelines to explore, and there is always the past. I can spend forever jumping back to before things close down. I survive, that's the main thing."

"Wow, nice guy aren't you?" muttered Dale.

"Just move," said Cray impatiently.

They made their way out into the garden. The robin came in to land on a low fence that bisected the garden and formed a backdrop for clematis in full glorious flower. It watched to see if there were going to be any tasty morsels uncovered — its favorite occupation as far as Dale could tell.

As Cray moved them up to the large flower-packed border that ran parallel to the fields bordering them on one side, Amanda almost tripped and held out a hand to steady herself on Dale.

Before Dale knew what was happening he found himself staring not at his own lawn but at a man dressed in full armor with a huge sword raised, ready to chop their heads off.

"Bugger," said Amanda.

Could be Worse

7 Years Future

Dale jumped back, pulling Amanda with him, realizing he wasn't in the middle of some kind of archaic battle but was in a large room full of antique furnishings stood on a very lush blood-red rug before he backed them up and they toppled over the back of a brown chesterfield sofa. The smell of ancient leather sank deep into his nostrils before dust fought for supremacy and won.

Dale sneezed loudly then managed to right himself while Amanda was already adjusting a Hexad he didn't even know she had with her.

"Be back in a moment," said Amanda, and flickered before Dale had a chance to react. "Here." Amanda handed Dale his new leather satchel, stuffed full of Hexads; Amanda had her own canvas bag, also bulging with the now all-too-familiar shape.

"What the...? How...? Why...?"

Amanda smiled mischievously and just said, "I jumped back and got our stuff while he was still leading us up the garden."

"Good idea." Dale marveled at the courageousness of Amanda. She really was a great woman.

"Look, I don't know how good Cray is at tracking but let's not stay here too long. I can't believe what he's like now, so different to how he was before." Amanda paced nervously around the room, inspecting the rather eclectic furnishings.

Dale tried not to get too uncomfortable as he noticed a giant moose head on the wall that really seemed to be staring at him accusingly. He sneezed again at the movement of a heavy drape as he pulled it aside to stare out at a beautiful open view of the English countryside.

"And what was he like before? I thought that he was the one at the heart of the problem in the end? Didn't he become like a mad tyrant or something?"

"A little, but—"

"A little bit of a mad tyrant! What—"

"As I was saying," Amanda shut Dale up with a stern look. "But he wasn't evil, not like this version of him seems. He was different, nice underneath it. He just got carried away. But this man? This Cray just seems like he doesn't care at all about anyone else but himself."

"Well, we need to stop him, and we need to stop Hexads ever being anything more than an idea in some fool's head. Where are we by the way?"

Amanda nodded, agreeing with Dale, but she looked confused, unsure of herself, her usual inner confidence dwindling. Dale waited, but she said nothing, just carried on inspecting the room as if the collection of items from bygone eras held some kind of an answer in their rusted metal or the dull fur of a huge stuffed bear looming out of the shadows.

"Amanda?"

"Oh, sorry, I was miles away. I just want to rest Dale, for it all to be over. To go home."

Dale moved over to Amanda, crossing the large room, footsteps silent as they went from thick carpet to threadbare rug to carpet again. "Hey, it's all right, we'll sort it. It's us, we're a team." Dale hugged her tight, feeling her body relax into his, her head resting on his shoulder where he caught her familiar scent. He often tried to pinpoint what it was, but could never really, truly say what the origin was. It wasn't just the smell of her shampoo, her perfume or whatever creams she used on her face, it was more than that. All he could truly come up with was that it was the essence of her, the sweet, subtle scent of a woman he knew better than he felt he even knew himself.

Except it's not her, not really. It's an older her, a different her. I love her though, more than anything. And it is her, it is.

Amanda pulled away, eyes slightly red but a smile was returning to her face. "Thanks, I needed that. So much. Right, let's get on with this, no time to waste."

"First, where are we?"

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. We're at that stately home we said we were going to visit, just seven years in the future. I guess they really did close it down like they said they were going to. Look at all this stuff, it's crazy."

"Why here?"

"It was the first place I thought of, and also, I remembered that they had weapons. We might need some, right?"

"Well, yes," said Dale dubiously, looking around the room unenthusiastically.

"Not in here silly, we just need to find the weapons room. I didn't know where it was so thought jumping to this room was safer. Just in case we landed on top of something decidedly pointy," added Amanda.

"Fair enough. Come on, let's find the room."

As they wandered around the huge rooms that made up the house, the spaces making Dale feel uncomfortable, as if he was unwelcome, disturbing the dust and the artifacts of centuries gone by, he wondered why Cray had bothered to even go to the house and try to get them out. Maybe he was just trying to ensure that things stayed as close as they could to what had happened to him in the past, but how did he even know that his actions were called for? Maybe he didn't, or maybe he did. Maybe all of a sudden other timelines were repopulated after he'd been traveling through empty worlds?

Or maybe it was simply that he knew events in his past hadn't been playing out as they should as soon as Dale refused to dig up the tin and call the police himself, so Cray had to intervene to ensure that he got his hands on the metal trunk full of Hexads? That made sense. Cray eliminated himself as what had happened to him wasn't going to happen to the past him any longer?

Here we go again, thinking about the impossible; screwing with your own head Dale.