The Loved and the Lost (22 page)

“I'll kill you, you bloody liar! I'll kill you, I'll kill you.”

“Stop it, stop it!” Pedang shouted.

“Desist, Master Hansum,” Sideways's face cried from the blanket.

“I'll kill you, I'll kill you,” the younger Hansum screamed as he continued to punch.

“Stop! Stop it,” another voice called. It was Lincoln, still a distance away, hobbling and obviously in pain. “Stop it. Hansum. Stop!” But the younger Hansum continued to pummel his older self, who just lay there taking it. As Lincoln got to them, he awkwardly dove at the younger Hansum, tackling him around the shoulders and taking him to ground. “Please, buddy, please. Please stop,” he said firmly, grabbing the younger Hansum's shoulders. Amazingly, he stopped, his red eyes burning up at Lincoln. “Where's Guil?” Lincoln asked, and neither Hansum answered. “Where's . . .” and then he looked around, seeing the blanket with Sideways sad face looking back at him. A hand and a foot were sticking out from beneath. Lincoln went pale as he flopped down to the ground, stunned. The younger Hansum, now free, turned toward Guilietta's covered body and lay himself back on the ground, facing her in the fetal position. All was silence until Pedang levitated over to Lincoln.

“Master Lincoln. The pendant. It must be put on your Hansum. Quickly.”

Lincoln looked back at the younger Hansum lying awkwardly on the ground by Guilietta. He crawled over the few feet to him.

“Hey man,” he said softly. “I need that pendant. If we've any chance to try again . . .”

The young Hansum grabbed the pendant around his neck and tried pulling the chain so hard it would break. But it was unbreakable. In frustration, he finally pulled it over his head and threw it at Lincoln.

“Take it, you bloody liars,” he shouted.

Lincoln quickly went over to the older Hansum. He tried to put the necklace over him, but Hansum put a hand up to stop him.

“You must put the necklace on him, sir,” Sideways said with urgency. “The wave containing the changes we've made to the timeline is speeding toward the 24
^th
-century. If you want another try at saving Guilietta, you must put it on . . . now.”

“What do you want me to do, pal?” Lincoln asked. “It's up to you. Try again or let it be?”

Hansum looked up at Lincoln with eyes that were now swollen and black.

“What is he talking about?” the younger Hansum asked, his voice choking. “Tell me.”

The older Hansum looked from Lincoln to his younger self, and then to Guilietta. He felt so defeated, like he wanted to just give in to the universe. It would be so peaceful to just fade away and . . .”

“Over there,” they heard a man shout in the distance. It was the two soldiers sent by Captain Caesar. They were galloping toward them.

“Quickly!” Lincoln said. “Decide.”

Hansum nodded, putting his hand down and letting Lincoln slip the necklace over his head.

“Sideways. Pedang,” Lincoln called. “To me.” Pedang flew close to Lincoln and the older Hansum. Sideways slowly withdrew from Guilietta, exposing her still body. The younger Hansum crawled closer to her, still lying in the grass, now face to face with her unseeing eyes. He took her hand. Lincoln helped the older Hansum sit up and Pedang pressed himself against them.

“I'm sorry,” the older Hansum said.

The younger Hansum turned and looked at him, stone-faced.

“Now,” Lincoln said and Sideways blinked, calling for the vortex.

Immediately, a wind tunnel formed around the group.

“It's working this time,” Pedang announced.

The two Hansums stared at each other as the large yellow Sands of Time appeared. They stared with eyes which had flowed from the same source, watched the same world and imagined the same dreams. Now they contained the same grief and wordless questions. As the Sands of Time gained speed, the ground fell away.

Hansum was awakened in the middle of the night by the touch of a familiar force field on his shoulder. He rolled over on his levitation mattress and saw exactly who he thought he would see.

“Charlene, I'm trying to sleep,” he complained hoarsely. “I've got to catch the transport early in the morning.”

“And I've got to talk some sense into you,” she replied.

“Oh, for Gia sakes!” Hansum flopped back over and pulled the blanket over his head.

Using her force field, Charlene sucked the cover off him, causing it to fly up in the air.

“You
will
listen to me!” Charlene pronounced, her animated brows coming together above two angry, drawn eyes. Hansum sprang to his feet, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts.

“That's all I've been doing since I got back over two months ago,” he snapped. “I've been listening to you, to Mom and Dad, the village elders, everyone. And when I do get a few words in, you all just talk over me.”

“But going back for more punishment . . . a third time . . . it's obsessive!”

“I'm not obsessed. Both our family doctor and the Council agree I'm just trying to complete a difficult task. I want to save Guilietta. I'm not crazy.”

“One time you come back and you've been skewered through the heart and the next your face is beaten to a pulp . . . by yourself. And you're going back for more?”

“You listen to me and you listen to me good, Charlene. Whatever I've been through, I'm healed. I'm fine and I'm going to keep trying. So get off my case!”

“You're not healed on the inside. I know you better than all those doctors put together. Oh, you're so stubborn! Worse than when you were a child. Something terrible is eating at you and I don't know what it is. I wish I could mind-delve you,” Charlene grumbled. “I really want to know what's going on inside that brain of yours.”

“Charlene, I've told you what I'm thinking. Believe me — please. Now,” he said snatching the blanket from the floor, “will you please get out of my room and let me sleep? Lincoln, Shamira and Kingsley will be here in three hours.”

“At least stay for another month,” Charlene pleaded as he crawled back onto his invisible bed.

“Charlene, it's time to get on with things.”

“For our family's sake. For my sake,” she begged.

“Time travel is still open and we don't know if and when it will close. We've got to submit another plan to the Council and it's meeting the day after tomorrow.” And with that, Hansum pulled the covers around him and turned toward the wall.

“But,” Charlene started.

Hansum whirled around. “Arimus has already made the arrangements,” he said. “I won't change them. Now let me sleep and go away!” And with that, he turned toward the wall.

Hansum lay there, listening. He heard Charlene's mouse-like snuffling for a few seconds, followed by the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing. He was alone in the dark again, but sleep didn't come quickly because Charlene was right. Something deep down was bothering him. And the problem was he didn't know what it was either. But he couldn't risk admitting that to anyone.

At first he thought it was just the images of the last mission. They kept jumping into his mind's eye; every horrifying part of the fight with Feltrino, the horse and the river, Guilietta lying dead on the bank. But there was something else, some phantom was haunting him, and he had to hunt it down and kill it himself.

Hansum received little comfort knowing that correcting the situation had, once again, been relatively easy. Arimus simply sent Sideways back to tell the earlier version of the A.I. cloak not transport Hansum to intercept his younger self. It worked. The timeline reset and played out as before. Guilietta was alive again and so was Feltrino.

Correcting the mistakes easily continued to surprise everyone involved, given that time seemed to be blocking them in so many other ways. But it piqued the curiosity of the 24th-century scientists advising the Council. They all found it fascinating and theories abounded. They hypothesized that Guilietta could be an example of some not-yet-understood force that made it impossible for some people to travel through a vortex, except at specific times. Perhaps it was a phenomenon the universe employed to protect key parts of the timeline, and they even developed equations to prove it. Maybe Guilietta was one of these people and they would have to devise a way to find when she could come through what they were calling “nexus points.” As a result, the scientists were enthusiastically asking that more attempts be made as soon as possible to test this theory. The public also wanted more of the Romero and Guilietta story.

The only objection to mounting another mission was coming from a faction of the History Camp Time Travel Council. Elder Parmatheon Olama had gained more support from other members, so had become a power to reckon with. Arimus told Hansum not to worry. Hansum presumed it was because the 31
^st
-century Elder Cassian Olama could veto his multi-generational grandson's vote. But Hansum still worried. He worried because he lived every day and night with the feeling that a demon was devouring him from the inside.

Finally, sleep came an hour before he had to get up.

When Lincoln found out what the new type of transport could do, he enthusiastically asked it to transmute into the shape of a Buck Rogers-style space ship. The A.I. ship captain laughed.

“Stand back, young people,” he said, and immediately transmuted himself from a regular sized A.I. orb, wearing an old-fashioned leather aviator's helmet and goggles, to the sleek early 20
^th
-century science-fiction version of a rocket ship, complete with a pointy front and long tailfins.

“Oh, I get it,” Lincoln laughed. “You're not just the pilot, you're the ship.”

As Lincoln, Medeea, Hansum, Shamira and Kingsley boarded the vessel, they saw five passenger seats.

“There's a chair for Medeea too,” Kingsley observed.

“Tell Captain Orville that was very thoughtful,”
Medeea said to Lincoln.
“Very sweet.”

“Medeea says you're sweet, Captain,” Lincoln joked. “But I was hoping she'd sit on my lap.”

“Thoughtfulness is all part of Haudenosaunee hospitality,” the now disembodied voice of the captain said. “Have a seat and here we go,” and the ship took off.

“Man, this is fast,” Lincoln said as he looked out the window. “We're already above the clouds and, Hell's bells, we're over the ocean already.”

“I was going to sketch the Cliffs of Dover but . . .” Shamira began, pressing her nose to the porthole.

“Already passed ‘em,” Lincoln finished.

“There's no sense of acceleration,” Kingsley added. “Those Haudenosaunee engineers certainly come up with great things.”

“My makers are the best,” Captain Orville's voice boasted.

Hansum gave a loud yawn and stretched. “Let me know when they've perfected site to site transport,” he said lazily. “Then you can say they're fast.”

“Sorry I don't meet your expectations, sir,” the ship said without a hint of disdain. “Please enjoy the ride. I must attend to my duties.”

Hansum stretched again and scratched at his chest.

“Wow, I think Hansum is actually getting ruder,”
Lincoln thought to Medeea.

“I agree,”
Medeea answered. Shamira and Kingsley looked like they were worried about their friend too.

“Man oh man, I wish I had a better sleep last night,” Hansum yawned.

“What's the problem, bro?” Lincoln asked.

“Charlene woke me up and went on a tirade about what we're doing.”

“I'm sure she's just concerned,” Kingsley said.

“Concern doesn't begin to describe it. She even wished she could mind-delve me, to really see what I was thinking,” Hansum looked out the window as they flew over Greenland. They were on their way to North America and what was still known as the Finger Lakes. “Man, taking this long to get from one place to the other is getting on my nerves.”

Medeea raised an eyebrow to Lincoln.

“Maybe mind-delving Hansum would be a good idea,”
she thought.

“Charlene just loves you,” Shamira suggested. “My Perminia was at me every day. ‘Settle down,' she said. ‘Do your art. Have a baby.' ”

“You didn't tell me that part,” Kingsley said.

“Oops.” Shamira blushed and everyone laughed.

“You guys are lucky,” Kingsley continued unabashed. “When I couldn't travel home during the blackout, I would have given anything to have my family badgering me.”

When the blackout ended, people from the 24
^th
to the 28
^th
-century could time travel again. However, the 31
^st
-century Arimus still couldn't, and that meant history was still unfolding differently. Arimus seemed to be taking it well now, confident things would work out.