Hexad: The Factory (Time Travel Thriller) Book 1 (11 page)

The enterprise must have been huge, involving hundreds of thousands of people, but it had been done and it was easy to understand why.

What would you give if you could travel back and visit a lost one? Try to save a wife, husband, mother or father from death? What would you sacrifice if you could go back and save your infant if all it meant was that you picked up the phone a minute earlier and dialed for an ambulance? You'd give up your life, you would certainly give up every possession that you owned, probably your very soul. After all, you could change the past, right? Win the lottery, become a master criminal and know you would get away with it. Jump away before capture or simply appear and then disappear from a room containing jewels worth millions. Anything was possible and people would have done almost anything to have the chance.

Dale knew he would sell his own soul if it meant he could take back what they had seen, the 'secret' that made such things possible.

Eventually they had made it outside, the stark, sterile and clinical lab interiors replaced by more welcoming areas that were clearly where the public were allowed to come, eventually leading out into well-appointed open spaces full of benches, fountains and opulence displayed with lavish abandon to clearly wow those wondering if they could possibly afford a Hexad. The paved areas finally gave way to expansive parkland that spread out in all directions, interspersed with ancient monuments that Dale was convinced were too like the scenes they had wandered around at Machu Picchu to be anything but exactly where they were. Untold wealth could buy you anything it seemed, even humanity's most precious history.

The whole site was different to how Dale remembered it though: larger, and he didn't doubt for a moment that yes, men really did move mountains — the cost was probably negligible to Hector compared to how much he earned from his terrible Factory.

The cool, clear mountain air gave a little clarity, but it couldn't replace the nightmarish visions of the interior.

They sat at the base of a building built by people that were now lost, just like everyone else, and Amanda cried until there were no tears left.

How could Hector have accused them of such an atrocity? Was he blaming them for allowing him to be so greedy, to do such unspeakable things all in the name of wealth and power? There had to be answers somewhere, there simply had to be. Dale was going to find them and put a stop to it, he'd put a stop to it all.

Paradoxes, changing the past and the future, none of that meant anything anymore. It didn't matter that it seemed impossible — he'd do it anyway. Not for the billions that no longer existed, not for Hector, not for The Caretaker, not for the future people that had invented such devices in the first place. No, he'd do it for Amanda, the woman he loved.

Amanda held onto him tight, tears finally spent. Dale stared off into the distance, face hard, resolute.

He wearily pressed the 1 on the head of the Hexad. They vanished.

They were going home.

Time to Act

Present Day

Ten years had passed since the day they had first discovered the tin and life had become changed forever. A single day had altered them irrevocably. Nothing felt the same when they returned, and nothing had since. The spent Hexad was locked away securely — neither of them had looked at it even once.

Dale had thought the whole experience would fade, that he'd have to check on it every so often, just so he knew he hadn't gone mad and made the whole thing up and that really he was in a psych ward somewhere. But he didn't, neither of them did. It had happened all right, and they would both give anything to ensure it hadn't.

Gradually life had returned to a semblance of normality. They worked, they drank, they maintained the garden and eventually got serious and turned it into a stunning, tranquil oasis full of bright flowers that smelled delightful in the summer and chased away the demons with their purity. They fed the birds, mowed the lawn, grew vegetables and kept chickens. Generations of squirrels got the better of Dale until he finally gave up getting annoyed about it and just put out the bird feed on a more regular basis, happy to admire the garden as he did so. Dale promised to clean the car every weekend but never did, and they waited, waited for something terrible to happen, for reality to warp and something inexplicable to fall from the middle of a room and send their lives into turmoil once more.

It never happened.

So over the years they settled down into a normal life, never able to put the past behind them but carrying on regardless — what else could they do?

They kept the house, as they knew they had to, until finally the ten years were up. More. It had been ten years and three months. Each day they'd expected to get some kind of a signal, something to tell them that the deadline was up and they had to do what they had both been dreading, but it never came. The days just passed in a fog of anticipation and dread, stomachs tied in knots, guts churning with sickness at the thought of what their lives would be once they did what they knew they had to.

Dale was pushing forty now, Amanda had just had her birthday and took the milestone better than Dale had expected. They were different people now, truly feeling like adults.

Amanda walked into the kitchen and jumped as Dale popped the cork on the champagne.

"What's the occasion?" He could see it in her eyes: she knew.

"It's time. I can't stand this for another day. Time to get pissed and talk nonsense then go out into the garden in the morning and dig up our future." Dale poured two glasses, the alcohol bubbling over the sides. He got a cloth and wiped it away, busying himself so Amanda could accept that their fate had arrived.

"Okay," was all she said.

Dale turned and looked into her eyes. "You sure honey? I don't want this either, but if we wait any longer I think I'm going to... I don't know, but I can't stand the waiting for one more day."

"Me either. I keep expecting something to happen, but it won't, not until we make it. So let's do it."

Amanda grabbed a glass, Dale did the same.

"Cheers."

"Cheers."

They got absolutely hammered.

D-Day

Present Day

Dale woke up to a splitting headache, a dry mouth, an urgent need to pee and a sickness in his stomach that had nothing to do with the alcohol consumed the night before. He opened an eye carefully, wary for stray beams of sunlight that would burn through his head and out the other side.

"Ah, water," he croaked, grabbing the glass gratefully from the bedside table. He gulped it greedily, water trickling down his chin, dripping onto the covers.

Amanda was gone, her place next to him cold, pillows plumped and arranged neatly. He smiled at the thought of how many times she'd had a go at him for not making the bed if he got up last — it must be quite a few by now as twenty years was a lot of time to be told off by your partner. More than twenty now, although the last ten felt like they'd been a dream, nothing but anticipation for a future that was to come yet had already happened thanks to the perverter of time that was the Hexad.

Dale got out of bed, dutifully plumped up his pillows and made the bed, had a pee, washed his face, brushed his teeth and then got dressed.

Amanda was in the kitchen. He half expected to find her in the garden, shovel in hand, digging up the border, a border that they hadn't touched in ten years for fear of unearthing something they knew they really didn't want to unearth, but had. They'd already done it hadn't they? That's what had made that single day so long ago actually happen. Dale cleared the thoughts from his mind — it never ended well, all that was to be gained from such mental gymnastics was a headache worse than the one he already had.

For ten years Dale had wrestled with the contradictory nature of time travel, and however much he tried to figure it out, tried to come to an understanding, he always failed — some things were simply never going to make sense.

"Morning," said Amanda.

"Morning," said Dale. "How's your head?"

"A little foggy." Amanda sipped her coffee, hands cupped around the mug like it would take away the pain.

Dale poured himself a strong one, added a splash of milk, and sat down at the table — a beautiful Danish fifties piece Amanda had finally found at a specialist Online store that sourced very cool furniture from all over the world, from all eras. In the past only. Even that would change soon wouldn't it? Dale sipped his coffee.

"What if we just don't do it?" said Dale.

"We have to because we already have, or our lives would be different."

"It doesn't make any sense Amanda. If we just don't dig them up then everything will be all right. Won't it?"

Amanda stared at him through eyes red from alcohol and tears. "I wish I knew. I wish I understood how this all worked. I've tried not to think about it for so long, but it's always been there. Ten years Dale, ten years this has been hanging over us. I just want it done with. I want to know that the future will be safe, not how it turned out."

"But if we start this all off then surely that means that what's happened, what will happen, is already set, right?" Dale waved a hand as Amanda went to speak. "I know, I know, we've been over this a million times, but I just don't see it. If our task is to save the world, then we need to be able to change the future, which now means changing our past, as otherwise that despicable Hector and his insane production of Hexads will always still happen."

"Unless at some point we get a break and can really change things, stop it happening but still remember a different version of events."

"Ugh, I don't think it works like that, but let's give it a try now. Let's break the whole thing, refuse to let any of it happen through just not doing what we've been told we have to. No digging."

Amanda stared at him for a long time, until their coffee was cold and she was beginning to freak Dale out. "Okay, no digging."

~~~

Dale was edgy; Amanda was manic.

She'd cleaned the house in a frenzy, not stopping for anything but a quick coffee mid-morning. Dale busied himself sorting out the office, anything to keep his mind from what they had supposedly already done.

The day wore on, stress levels rising as the sun shone higher in the sky.

By late afternoon they were both exhausted. After organizing and re-organizing everything in the office Dale had joined Amanda in the cleaning of the house. By the time they were finished the windows sparkled, the kitchen gleamed like it had just been installed, the carpets looked like they were brand new and Dale had even pulled the fridge out and cleaned behind that, surprised to find quite so much fluff and what he thought was some kind of biscuit, maybe a Wagon Wheel, but it was hard to tell.

Finally, there was nothing left to clean, and they slumped into the chairs around the kitchen table, skin glowing after showering, both smelling as nice as the house itself did. Amanda's hair was as beautiful as ever.

"So, the world hasn't ended, we're still here, I still remember that we are supposed to dig up Hexads, that the world was empty in the future and that we were chased through time by a giant named Laffer. You?"

God, what if she doesn't remember? Then I would know that I am mad.
Dale held his breath while Amanda took her time replying.

"I remember. When were we supposed to have dug them up? Morning, right, like when you dug up the tin?"

"Yup, and we haven't done it, this is going to work." Dale leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, feeling surprisingly good — physical work had taken away most of the edginess, the hangover too.

Ding-dong. Ding-dong.

Dale and Amanda stood up with a start, nervous tension Dale thought had gone but was merely hiding well beneath the surface bubbling up again, making them instantly alert to the sound of the doorbell. Dale looked at Amanda; she returned the gaze, fear evident.

"I'll go and deal with it. It's probably just the guy who dropped off the bag yesterday asking for clothes for charity. I'm sure it's fine." Dale knew he wasn't convincing her, but he had to hope. Pray.

As Dale walked down the hallway he could see the shadows of two men through the opaque glass of the front door. Well, it wouldn't be people out to get them, would it? They wouldn't be so polite.

Dale opened the front door.

Two men were stood there, both wearing high visibility jackets, both very dirty and looking like it had been a long day.

"Afternoon mate, sorry to disturb you."

"Um, that's okay," said Dale. "What can I do for you?"

"There's a huge problem with the drains, we've just been at the house next door, ran a camera, and we think the problem's in your garden. It runs along the boundary, we're going to have to dig it up."

"What, today? Now?"

"Afraid so. We have to, it's the law. Any problems like this have to be dealt with immediately. We can't have sewage leaking out into the open. If it pollutes the waterways we're in big trouble, you too if it's on your property."

"Oh god, seriously?" Dale just felt numb, like he'd almost got away with it but deep down he knew that he couldn't, that fate would catch up with them and they were just there to be dragged along for the ride. "What if I say no? I don't want my garden trashed."

"If that's the case then, well, we'll have to get the police I'm afraid. Look mate, it's no biggie, we know where the problem is. It won't be too messy, we just need to dig a trench right on the fence line and replace a small section of pipe, won't take more than an hour. Look, we're gonna go on our break for a cuppa and a sarnie, we haven't even stopped for our lunch yet, but then we'll be back. Okay?" The man was staring at Dale curiously, clearly wondering why he wouldn't want them to ensure raw sewage wasn't streaming out all over the garden.