Myths of the Modern Man (19 page)

“
Will you then send us back to Boudicca? Shall we tell her that Queen Cartimandua, who is careful and cunning, will consider her offer of unity and make her answer known in time?” That ought to leave her plenty of room.

“
I would send you to Boudicca. I would keep her brother.”

Yes, Boudicca’s brother would make an appealing trophy for the Romans.

I erased the started look on my face as well as the perfect opportunity to be rid of him, and became sincerely confidential instead.

“
His life is near an end,” I said, appearing as dignified and sympathetic as I could, “Boudicca sent him with us only as a gesture. To make him useful. To give him the honor of a warrior. He may not last the summer.”

“
He appears as strong as a bull.”

“
He coughs blood.”

She looked suspicious, and appalled.

“
I have not seen him cough blood.”

“
He coughs blood,” I shook my head sadly, “He defecates blood. No, no. He will be the first among our dead, perhaps before the next battle.”

“
Do your druids not tend to him?”

“
The druid present is with us for just as you say, but the brother of Boudicca insists the druid save his magic for Boudicca and the fight against the Romans. This is what he wishes. He is a great warrior.”

“
He would prefer to die in battle.”

“
It is just as you say.”

She thought about her options. Dubh was no good to keep after all, with all that coughing up blood business. His misfortune would only rub off on her. Nemain and Cailte were nobodies as far as she was concerned, not worth keeping. I was afraid she was beginning to like me, though.

I started to cough.

***

The startled expressions of Dubh, Nemain and Cailte were priceless as they watched me led, unharmed and unchained, from Cartimandua’s private sanctuary. Even more so when she called to her guards,

“
Take them beyond the fortifications. Release them with their horses.”

***

Dubh rode ahead of us, occasionally glancing back at us with a curious, impatient, and utterly lost look. Nemain rode second in line, far enough behind Dubh not to draw fire, and glowered over the ears of his animal, tucking his cloak tighter about him, and brooding on the mystery of it all. Cailte and I straddled his horse together, he in front and me behind, clutching him tightly. None of them would stoop to ask me what happened. None of them would lower themselves to ask for meaning and direction from a slave. All of them were burning with curiosity. I did not gloat at my own triumph, however. Getting them safely back to Boudicca was likely only to get them killed in the end. I did them no real favor.

***

South of the wolds, not quite to the Wash, we passed a nomad settlement of wary Britons who stopped their daily chores of survival to watch us pass and wonder if we meant to harm them, or indeed, wanted anything to do with them. A tall, bearded man with a frost of gray in his hair took an obvious interest in Cailte. He followed him with his eyes, and slowly stood from his seat by his fire. I don’t think Cailte noticed. Noticing these wretched people was beneath him. Cailte reined his horse and gestured for a man to bring him, and his horse, some water. Dubh stopped reluctantly, but saw the sense of watering his horse. He really wanted to get back to the Iceni now that we had some hope of being welcomed. He feared becoming an outcast, like this evidently lost tribe. Nemain did not climb down from his horse, but let it drink.

Cailte and I slipped off his horse, and he walked away to stare at the wolds and ignore everybody. I approached the bearded man, following some instinct, and took a big chance.

“
That man is Cailte, bard of the Iceni, and you know him.” I said quietly, and he backed away from me, trying to not make eye contact. A boy of about fifteen sat by their fire. He was not afraid to make eye contact with me, but he remained silent out of respect to his father. A woman stirred the fire. She glanced at me sideways and reminded me of someone.

“
He has a servant called Tailtu. If you know of her people, say that she is well.”

They said nothing. I turned and walked back to Cailte’s horse, and we mounted, he first and then me, hopping up upon the horse’s back, then maneuvering close against Cailte, and we rode away.

At sundown we camped. Dubh went to hunt. Cailte built the fire. Nemain finally climbed down off his damned horse. He sat down by the fire and brooded.

I went to urinate. I looked up at the feet on the cluster of boulders above me. It was the boy from tribe of wanderers, leftovers from Cartimandua’s Brigantes.

“
Tell Tailtu that her father and her mother are well, and that her brother Oisin is well,” he said.

He was too young for a beard. He was too young to bear the political burdens of being a social outcast because of the actions of a group of chieftains ten years ago. He was just old enough to remember his sister. Perhaps he had been about five when she was sold to Cailte.

“
I will tell her, Oisin.”

He held me a little longer in his dark, but hopeful gaze. Then he turned and left, disappearing into the trees and the twilight.

Perhaps Bouchal reminded her of him.

***

The horses walked into camp of the Iceni, and the stirring of the Iceni tribe rippled from the outermost peasants and warriors deep into the inner circle of Boudicca. Our arrival was announced in mutterings, surprise, and expectation. One of Boudicca’s personal guard met Dubh, took his horse, and gave him a goblet of ale. The servant gestured to Boudicca’s tent, and Dubh wiped his mouth on his sleeve and pushed the servant aside with satisfaction, and marched with his goblet in his hand to the tent of his sister the queen. He was back in favor, and wanted everyone to know it.

Taliesin quietly approached Nemain with a goblet, and stole a glance at me as he held it up to his master. Nemain swiped it from him and walked briskly away to his own quarters, with Taliesin tending to his horse.

Tailtu at last made her way to Cailte. I slipped off the back of the horse first, and she did not look at me, nor did she look at Cailte as she handed him his drink. He drank it down while still on the horse, then threw the cup to the ground, slid off the horse, and strode to his own tent. Tailtu picked up the cup, and followed him. Bouchal came and took his horse. I stood for a moment watching everyone. They went back to their survival chores. Some kids pretended to sword fight with sticks. I watched them a minute, then turned away and made my way back to the outskirts of camp where it was quiet and I looked for a place to lie down. Tailtu would have other company tonight now that her master was home.

The stars, not in exactly the same positions as I knew them, slowly dotted the sky as the sun faded. The north star was not Polaris now, because of the wobble of the earth.

Suppose I chose not to go back? I could just take Tailtu away. If I went far north enough, Eleanor couldn’t reach me. In the confusion of battle, the battles that were coming, I could get away with Tailtu and Bouchal, and Cailte could not reach us either.

Would she be happy to live as an outcast like her family? Would she feel she had any worth then?

Eleanor could monitor my vital signs through the computer chip buried in my chest for as long as she wanted. How long would she monitor me? How long would she wonder what had gone wrong?

CHAPTER 15

Eleanor’s pale blue eyes wandered back to the digital tapestry of Colonel John Moore’s vital signs.

“
Does this data really help?” Dr. Ford asked. He sounded more wary to her, and she felt triumphant in the face of his wariness. We’ll see who’s on top, she thought.

“
Low pulse, low respirations,” she said, “He must be sleeping.”

“
There was another tidal wave in the northwest today, did you hear?”

Her brow knitted and she said, “Yes,” as curtly as if he had meant it for a criticism of her.

“
Well,” he said, regarding her from the safe distance of three feet, “That’s life. Or, at least that’s what it’s getting to be. Most of the Pacific island nations are gone. In another five years, the Midwest is going to be one giant delta.”

“
I know the weather report, Cassius.”

“
Refugees clambering for higher ground. Moralists clambering for higher ground. And then there’s you.”

She lifted her white face with its flawless complexion, pale against her red lipstick.

“
I can almost foresee the new creation myths the next generation will have, all centering around a petite blonde woman in a lab coat,” he smiled, in what she imagine he thought was an endearing way.

“
Provided there is a next generation. Women like you don’t really seem to need men anyway. I don’t think you really need Colonel Moore. Do you?”

“
You may not like to fight, but you do like to tease,” she answered, “I admit finding a practical application for my research has been…is becoming…somewhat…intimidating. Especially because it seems mostly out of my hands.”

“
Just so. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

She turned to him again.

“
Creation myths?”

“
It all starts there. In every civilization. Then it becomes conquest. We’re at the end of the cycle now, with barbarians at the gates.”

“
You’re the historian,” she shrugged.

“
I admire you tremendously, Eleanor,” Dr. Ford said. He slipped a hand into his pocket and with the other, ran a finger along the shining metal counter.

“
Your accomplishments are a true gift to science. But, I am not a scientist, not really. I am indeed a historian, that’s all. But…as such, I know that it has been next to impossible, throughout the history of man, for people to hold different opinions and not hold grudges.”

“
You have something to say you think I won’t like. Go ahead, Cassius.”

His smile never left him. “Your degree of dispassion is so practiced.”

“
Stop it, you sound like Colonel Moore.”

“
He’s quite the man, isn’t he? You and he have a special relationship.”

She scoffed, as if insulted, “We have no relationship at all. He sees to that. But, yes, I can see the value of him. I can see that very well.”

“
Well, I don’t want you and I to be on opposite sides, Eleanor. I would hate for that to happen.”

“
Why does that have to happen?”

“
All right, here it is. As far as the practical application of the Time Dimension Study goes, we have been wasting our time. We need to redirect our focus. We should stop sending Moore or any other time traveler back so far to the past. We should not send anybody, anywhere. That’s what I think.”

“
Cassius!”

“
We should simply turn the clock back one day, just one day, every day.”

“
Why? Do you mean all life on earth? How can we do that? Redirecting Colonel Moore through a portal of time is one thing. We have no ability to take all life on the earth and…honestly, do you know how much gravitational pull we’d need? It’s impossible.”

“
So was time travel ten years ago. What about your work on using the sun as a catalyst. Remember, you explained to me about creating a magnetic orbit….”

“
Extremely hypothetical at this stage, Cassius….”

“
Only because you’re too timid to bring it up to General English. You’ve already done the groundwork.”

“
Why would we even want to do that? Push ourselves back a day all the time?”

“
Because one more day is all we need. One more day is all humankind has ever looked for, except the exceptionally greedy, and they always failed.”

“
But the mission….”

“
Eleanor, John Moore is altering the past even as we speak. You know that. We know he is not supposed to, but just by being there, he is. This will always happen. What’s the next mission? A more modern military engagement? World War II? Please! Surely you know General English is being more than humored by the powers that be. He’s being courted.”

“
To re-write history?”

“
Yes. Think of the possibilities. A battle seen in hindsight is easier won, with the help of, shall we say, Monday morning quarterbacking. How many times have each of us in our lives said, ‘If only I knew then what I know now.’”

“
Well, aside from the shear lunacy of that hypothesis, it’s not my responsibility to decide what happens with this project.”

“
Let me put it another way. Suppose the capability falls into the hands of some nut who wants to go back and give the Nazi’s the atom bomb?”

Eleanor rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“
Now you’re sounding like a comic book, Cassius. Tell me, did this impromptu theory come from Dr. L’Esperance?”

“
No,” he said, she thought, too quickly.

“
What has she to gain by enforcing this theory?”

“
Eleanor, stop it. It’s not her theory. It’s mine.”

“
This is the first time you’ve mentioned it. We’ve been working on this project for how long? And you didn’t mention it before this?”