Time Hunters and the Spear of Fate, The (4 page)

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Authors: Carl Ashmore

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BOOK: Time Hunters and the Spear of Fate, The
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‘Yes.’

‘Where’s he gone?’ Joe
asked immediately. ‘Is it to do with Drake?’

‘Yes,’ Uncle Percy
replied hesitantly, ‘but there are some things I’d sooner you didn’t know
about, at least not until I have more concrete information.’

Becky shot him a
steely look. ‘We can handle it,’ she insisted. ‘Whatever it is … we’re not
little kids. And we’ve been through too much for you to treat us as if we were.
Is it to do with dad?’ Her voice fractured slightly but she continued anyway.
‘Is he dead?’

‘No, Becky,’ Uncle
Percy replied sincerely. ‘It’s got nothing to do with your father. It concerns
Edgar …’

Becky took a sharp
intake of breath. Edgar was the kindly vegetarian Minotaur they had met in the
summer on their quest for the Golden Fleece.  ‘What about him?’

‘About a week ago
Cornelius Frobisher, a fellow traveller, contacted me - he’d just got back from
the year 1633BC and had unwittingly come across an uncharted island in the
Black Sea. Anyway, he spent the day exploring it and discovered a small,
deserted settlement … a Minotaur settlement.’

‘It was Edgar’s
brothers’ island?’ Becky whispered.

‘That’s right,’ Uncle
Percy replied. ‘Anyway, the settlement had been ransacked. He investigated the
immediate vicinity and found – ’ The words stuck in his throat.

‘Found what?’ Joe
prompted.

‘He found two Minotaur
corpses,’ Uncle Percy admitted miserably. ‘Gergo and Gergan. They’d been shot
dead…’

 

 

Chapter 5

Betty the Deville you know

 

 

‘They’d been shot
dead...’

The words scorched the
air. Becky’s mouth went dry. Gergo and Gergan, Edgar’s older brothers, had been
their saviours on the island of Kera.  Without them, Uncle Percy and Will
would have been executed by firing squad, she and Joe would have been
prisoners, and Drake would have acquired the first of the Eden Relics, The
Golden Fleece. But as she processed Uncle Percy’s words, she recalled what
happened when the Associates had fired on Edgar.  

‘But … Minotaurs can’t
be killed,’ she said quietly. ‘Edgar was shot loads of times; the bullets
didn’t break his skin. It’s like Edgar said, “Minotaurs can’t be harmed by
human weapon.”’

Uncle Percy shook his
head. ‘I’m afraid Edgar was wrong. It seems that whereas Minotaurs’ skin is
extraordinarily hard, so hard most bullets can’t penetrate it, it is possible
if the bullets are molded from a certain metal.’

‘Which metal?’ Joe
asked.

‘The metal Edgar’s
grandfather used to make his dagger – the same dagger I used to kill the Hydra.
To cut a long story short, I believe Drake returned to the Red Caves, removed
the dagger from the Hydra’s carcass, melted it down and made bullets out of it.
Then, sometime after, he tracked down Gergo and Gergan, and the rest is
history.’

‘He killed them
because they helped us,’ Becky said in a whisper. ‘He wanted revenge.’

‘It’s the oldest
motive in the world,’ Uncle Percy replied glumly.

Becky’s blood turned
cold. ‘Then it’s our fault?’

‘Don’t do that to
yourself,’ Uncle Percy replied firmly. ‘We couldn’t have known.’

Joe’s face grew
determined. ‘We could go back in time and try and stop it.’

‘I’m afraid Will and I
have already tried that, Joe, quite a few times. I’m sure I don’t have to tell
you what happened.’

‘The Omega Effect,’
Becky offered.

‘I’m afraid so,’ Uncle
Percy replied. ‘We couldn’t do a thing to prevent it. We couldn’t even get
close to the time it happened. Not by weeks.’ He struggled to speak his next
words. ‘It soon became clear that fate had determined they were to die, no
matter what we did, no matter how we tried to intervene.’

‘What about Edgar?’
Becky asked, her voice aquiver. ‘Does he know?’

Uncle Percy’s gaze
fell to the floor. ‘Yes. Judging from the evidence we found at the scene after
the Omega Effect had lifted, Edgar was staying with his brothers when the
settlement was attacked.’

‘Then what happened to
him?’ Becky asked.

‘I think they took
him.’

‘They kidnapped him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’ Joe added,
horrified.

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘And what about Will?’
Becky asked. ‘Where is he now?’

‘He stayed behind,’
Uncle Percy said. ‘He’s an excellent tracker and is going to try and find
Edgar. I offered to stay, too, but he said I’d slow him down. Sadly, he’s
almost certainly right. Anyway, he’ll get in touch when he’s found him. Then
we’ll take it from there.’

Becky looked confused.
‘But how will he contact you?’

‘He’s carrying a
pagidizor. He’s also wearing a portravella, stocked with plenty of Gerathnium
and is very well armed.’ Uncle Percy noted the look on Joe’s face. ‘Don’t worry
about Will, he’ll be fine and I’m sure we’ll be able to get Edgar back, safe
and sound.’

Becky’s legs had
turned to jelly. ‘But Edgar could be already be dead?’

‘If they wanted to
kill him they could have done it along with his brothers. No, I think Drake
wants him alive. I’m sure of it.’

Tears fogged Becky’s
vision. ‘I hope so…’

Silence surrounded
them.

‘I’m taking this
costume off,’ Joe said. ‘Forget the stupid party.’

‘I agree, Joe,’ Uncle
Percy said, removing his hat. ‘I don’t think any of us are in the mood for it
now.’

Cheerlessly, Joe
turned round and was about to climb the stairs when a hand pulled him back.

‘No, Joe,’ Becky said
quietly. ‘I don’t particularly want to go now, either, but I think we should.
We can’t do anything for Edgar from here, and if we don’t go tonight we won’t
be able to thank the people we should. There are loads of travellers trying to
find dad. The least we can do is show up and thank them.’

Joe hesitated,
pondering this for a moment. ‘Okay.’

‘I’ll tell you what,’
Uncle Percy said. ‘Let’s leave it an hour. Talk it through amongst yourselves.
I certainly don’t mind giving it a miss if that’s what you want.’ He gave a
half-smile. ‘What I will say is that if your only reason for going is out of
obligation to the GITT community you really shouldn’t. They’re trying to find
your dad because they think the world of him. He’s part of their family. It’s
as simple as that…’

*

Becky went back to her
room. The minutes crawled by. Her every thought was plagued with terrible
visions of the murder of Gergo and Gergan, of Edgar being forced to watch it
all. It felt like someone was stabbing her heart with a knife. Her hatred for
Emerson Drake raged within her like a forest fire. The hour soon passed and
before she knew it she was rapping firmly on Joe’s bedroom door.

The door opened to
reveal Joe, now wearing a pair of trousers, a Manchester City football shirt
and a jacket. ‘So we’re going?’ he asked.

‘I think we should,’
Becky replied. ‘We don’t have to stay long.’

Joe forced a smile.
‘Maybe it’ll cheer us up.’

Becky didn’t look
convinced.

A few minutes later,
Becky and Joe returned downstairs to see Uncle Percy had changed into a formal
black suit and tie. ‘I didn’t feel like dressing up either,’ he admitted. ‘Now
are you sure you want to go? We really don’t –’

Becky took a deep
breath.  ‘Let’s do it…’

An icy breeze
pummelled Becky’s face, forcing her to concentrate on something other than
Edgar, as she followed Uncle Percy across the winding side path towards the
Time Room. A few moments later, Uncle Percy pointed a small gadget at a
circular pad to the right-hand side of the door. ‘I think it’s time you both
met Betty, the third of my time machines, don’t you?’

Entering the Time
Room, Becky’s eyes widened. In the centre of the room was an old fashioned
American car, coloured from bumper to tailfin in the most brilliant bubblegum
pink.

Uncle Percy approached
the car. ‘I really was hoping we might all be in better spirits when you first
met her.’

‘What type of car is
it?’ Joe asked enthusiastically.

‘A 1955 Cadillac Coup
Deville. Isn’t she a belter?’

Joe’s eyes bulged like
golf balls. ‘It’s the coolest car I have ever seen.’

Becky wasn’t so sure.
‘It’s very, err, pink.’

‘Pink’s my favourite
colour,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘As a matter of fact, it’s Betty’s colouring that
resulted in her being involved in an amusing and somewhat culturally
significant story. Would you like to hear it?’

‘Sure,’ Becky said.

A smile split Uncle
Percy’s face as he recalled the memory. ‘Well, some time ago I took her on a
time trip to 1952, to Memphis, Tennessee. Anyway, I was driving past
Loew's
State Theatre when a young usher, evidently with his mind on other things,
stepped out into the road and I nearly hit him. Fortunately, I swerved and
struck a water hydrant instead.’

‘Were you hurt?’
Joe asked.

‘Not in the
slightest. I did, however, feel like I’d been walloped over the head when I
recognised the young usher.’

‘Who?’ Becky
asked.

‘Only the King
of Rock and Roll: Mr Elvis Presley, himself,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘You’ve heard
of Elvis?’

‘Of course,’
Becky replied.

‘Quiff bloke,’
Joe added.

‘And a fine
quiff it was, too,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘I couldn’t believe my eyes. Anyway,
he ran over and helped me out but he never once took his eyes off Betty. A few
years later, after he’d become famous, he bought a pink Cadillac and kept it
until the day he died.’ He brushed his hand affectionately across the car’s
bonnet. ‘I like to think it was Betty that sparked his love affair with the
pink Caddy.’

Becky found
herself grinning.

‘Anyway,’ Uncle
Percy continued. ‘She’s loaded with Gerathnium so why don’t we shake a tail
feather back to the middle Palaeolithic era. If you’re familiar with a golden
oldie like Elvis, I’m thinking you might recognise the musical entertainment
laid on for tonight.’

‘Why? Who is
it?’ Becky asked.

‘You’ll have to
wait and see…’ Uncle Percy said mysteriously.

Uncle Percy
opened the rear doors and Becky leapt in, followed by an eager Joe.

Becky sank into
the saddle beige leather seats, a rich, sweet aroma filling her nostrils, and
scanned the lush chrome interior. Uncle Percy climbed in the front, keyed six
digits on to the time-pad and sat back.  At once, a series of buttons and
knobs and dials erupted into life. Streams of light poured from the dashboard,
gathering in clouds, before surrounding them, igniting their faces like candles
on a pitch-black night.

The Cadillac
shuddered slightly and with a thunderous
bang
, it disappeared.

*

Becky’s eyes took some
time to adjust. Whereas the Time Room was so bright and vibrant, their new
location was dim, gloomy and vast, illuminated poorly from above by rows of
track lights, which sent thin shadows on to the dozens of tall pillars that
buttressed the high ceiling and the sprawling mezzanine floor.

‘It looks like an NCP
car park,’ Joe said, somewhat disappointedly.

‘And that’s pretty
much what it is,’ Uncle Percy agreed. ‘This is the arrivals hangar.’

‘And we’re definitely
underwater?’ Becky asked.

‘More than half a mile
beneath the surface,’ Uncle Percy said, flinging open the driver’s door. ‘Come
on. I imagine the band is coming to the end of its first set, but don’t worry …
they’ll be on again later. I doubt you’ll want to miss them.’

Intrigued, Becky and
Joe followed him out.

Glancing round, a grin
formed on Becky’s face. They were surrounded by the most bizarre mix of time
machines, from numerous historical eras: cars, minivans, a penny-farthing
bicycle, a blue police phone box, a hang-glider, a miniature steam train, a
Venetian gondola, and various styles of motorbike and scooter.

‘Is Bruce coming?’
Becky asked, her eyes searching out ‘Sweet Sue’, Bruce Westbrook’s silver
Harley Davidson motorbike.

‘I’m afraid not,’
Uncle Percy replied. ‘The doctors have put a strict no-alcohol clause in his
recuperation and I think the temptation for him to fall into a vat of tequila
tonight was too much for him to handle.’

Becky chuckled, when a
loud, squelchy snort echoed from behind. Looking back, she saw an enormous
camel wearing an ornate leather saddle and drinking from a bucket of water.

‘Ah, Kareem’s here.’
Uncle Percy said. ‘Good evening, Jawna.’ He waved at the camel, who promptly
looked up, shot him an imperious look, and returned to her water. His voice
fell to a whisper as he leaned into Joe’s ear. ‘Between you and me, I find
Jawna a bit too snooty for her own good.’

Joe laughed. ‘Someone
has a camel for a time machine?’

‘Kareem Kassab does.
Well, strictly speaking the time machine is the saddle but, yes, I suppose you
could say that.’

‘Doesn’t travelling
scare her?’ Becky asked, concerned. ‘I mean … there’s all the lights, the
noise.’

‘Oh, no,’ Uncle Percy
replied casually. ‘Kareem and Jawna have been travelling companions for
decades. She’s an old pro. Anyway, shall we check out the party?’ He set off in
the direction of a set of large doors at the far end of the room.

As Becky trailed him,
her gaze was drawn to a most unexpected object, painted luminous green, set
beside a stretch black limousine. ‘Is – is that a public toilet?’

‘It is, but personally
I wouldn’t use it.’

‘Why not?’ Becky
asked.

‘Because you might
find yourself in Nanjing, China in 1375... that public toilet is Dilbert Wong’s
time machine.’

Becky’s crumpled her
face. ‘Really?’

‘His time machine’s a
bog?’ Joe said with delight.

‘That’s one way of
putting it, Joe,’ Uncle Percy said disapprovingly. ‘With respect to Dilbert,
he’s got a weak bladder and a strong sense of propriety. I suppose he doesn’t
want to be stuck in Bronze Age Bavaria without a suitable place to visit when
needs must. You know what they say, when you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go...’

Becky was about to
respond when a loud
crack
echoed to their left. A giant tractor had
materialised in an adjacent parking bay.  A man dressed as a deep-sea
diver leapt down and landed with a clank beside them. He was wearing a copper
helmet, which he removed to reveal a mass of curly orange hair and a wild,
tangled beard spotted with grey, behind which sat a wide grin.  ‘Halifax,
me old mucker,’ the man said. ‘Good to see you and Merry Christmas.’ He
extended his hand.

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