Chapter 32


23 November, 2018

Iowa

 

Haakon inhaled the fresh, rain-washed scent of the urban wildwood. An early frost had tinged the leaves of the oak and maple trees red and orange, and a crisp, autumn sunshine dappled through forest cover. On his left, a tree lay broken, split asunder by a lightning strike, probably from the prior night’s storm.

Haakon paused and knelt at a puddle of water in the middle of the gravel trail. He felt inside and found the root that had tripped him that night, the night he’d first met Nathan. Just last night, by the local calendar, but over a year since he’d last seen him, in 1933 London.

Guilt clenched his throat. Memories of their last meeting burned his soul. They’d fought, and Haakon hadn’t listened. He should have. He wished he had. He stood and proceeded down the trail.

A few hundred yards farther, and the trail branched. One way led to the town, the other toward the bluff. Last night, last year, he and Nathan had followed the path to the bluff and the Rune Caves. But when he inquired earlier today, he just got blank stares. The Rune Caves, like Nathan, had disappeared when Nell and Gunnar had completed their mission in London.

At least he didn’t have guilt for his part in that. Or at least, not as much guilt as he might. He’d already started his fruitless quest to find Nathan.

When he reached the base of the bluff, a lone figure lounged on a park bench, reading. Haakon ignored him and stared into the dark hollow of the cave at the base of the bluff. No runes. No hidden time portal. Yet, it had been there. He and Nathan had used it.

A voice made him start. “Interesting place, that.” It was the man from the bench, now standing next to him.

Haakon frowned and gave him the once-over. He’d seen him somewhere before. Or somewhen. The burden of the years weighed heavily today. “Just a cave.”

“So it appears.” The man’s tone was noncommittal. “Still, there are native legends about spirits appearing in the cave.”

“Sometimes it seems there are native legends everywhere.” Haakon shrugged. “Have we met? I’m Haakon.” He held out his hand.

While they shook, a faint smile flickered on the other man’s features. “Interesting. I’ve used that name, myself. You met me on campus yesterday. In this time and place, I’m known as Holger Danske.”

Of course. Haakon had forgotten the strange encounter from more than year ago in his personal timeline. “Yes, I remember you now. Uh, Haakon is my middle name. I use it when I’m not on official FBI business.”

“Have you found your friend, Mr. Hilbert?”

“No.” He couldn’t help his choked tone or quivering chin.

“I thought I’d lost someone once. I kept trying to return to the places where we met, but all I found were memories.”

Memories. Nathan had to be more than mere memory. Haakon gazed into the depths of the cave and remembered huddling there, an arrow in his shoulder, and Nathan caring for him. Caring about him.

Holger stared into the cave, too. “Memories can sometimes summon sleeping heroes, waiting to awake in time of need.”

Memory clicked then. Holger Danske. You’re named for the sleeping hero of Denmark, the one who will return in the time of greatest need.”

“I did think of that legend when I assumed this name.”

Haakon peered at the man’s features. He was certain he’d seen that face before, under different circumstances. “Whose need do you think will summon you?”

Danske shrugged. "Who knows? If you can look into the seeds of time and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak, then, to me."

There was nothing to say to that. The only grain Haakon sought was Nathan.

They stood for a bit longer, and then Danske spoke. “Don’t abandon your quest. The future is a tenuous web, woven from many threads. Life is about the threads we choose, and those we don’t.’ He shivered and clenched his arms about himself. “The chill is biting these old bones. I wish thee well, Haakon. May you find the thread of happiness.” With that, he left.

 

That night, Haakon tried to relax in the staff lounge at Chicago Control. He sipped his whisky sour and avoided looking Nell in the eyes. She meant well, he was sure.

Her voice was softer, and somehow wiser. “How long has it been for you?”

“You mean since we worked together? About a year in my personal timeline. How about you?”

A scant smile bent her lips. “Longer than that for me.” She let silence grow, as if it could bridge the gap of decades that now separated them.

Haakon sneaked another glance at her before returning to the icy depths of his drink. She was definitely older. Elderly, even. Amazing, considering the longevity effects of the nano-docs. She must be a senior agent at this point in her personal timeline. “I’ve declined several new assignments since...since London. I think Bloomsbury finished me.”

She reached out to touch his hand. He withdrew.

She sighed. “I’ve found work brings order to the chaos. It brings purpose, which heals wounds and helps us forget. I’ve got an important assignment coming up. I’d like you to join me.”

He didn’t need another assignment. The last one brought nothing but sorrow. Momentary anger flared, then depression drowned him again. He looked away and muttered, “I don’t want to forget. Ever.”

“You know Nathan’s not really gone.” Trust Nell to get right to the point.

Bitterness soured his mouth and froze his belly. “Right. And Hitler is just a two-bit artist in Vienna. Just not in a timeline I can access.”

“I heard you went back to Iowa again, looking for him.”

“Yeah. It was just like the earlier trip. No one ever heard of him, and there is no quantum physics group at the college there. It’s like he never existed.”

“I know you met my colleague, Holger Danske.”

Haakon’s head jerked up. “Yeah. Weird. I feel like I’ve met him before.”

A slow smile bent her gentle features. “You have. In a way, he’s always been with you.”

“The sleeping hero? That’s—” Recognition flashed then. He whispered, “It can’t be.”

Nell nodded. “I see you figured it out. He still visits places important to him. You will still visit those places, even after so many years of lifespan have passed.”

“He acted like Nathan never came back to him.”

“I’m sure he left open possibilities. After all, if you knew the answer, you’d lose all agency and all hope. He still believes in free will.”

“It seems cruel if he knows, even if the answer is one I don’t want to hear.”

“The answer is what it is. Nathan exists in our memories.” She hesitated, then continued in a voice tinged with sadness. “In our hearts.”

He finished his drink and pushed his chair back. “Well, it was good seeing you again.”

“Don’t go. At least let me tell you about the new assignment. You owe me that much.”

He clenched his jaw. She had saved his life. Nathan’s too, even if her subsequent negligence led to his disappearance. Still, decades of doing his duty forged iron habits. Impossible habits to break. “Speak, then.”

“It’s a recovery mission. It’s based on something our MI5 contacts in 1933 London came across. Have you ever heard of Quentin Crisp?”

“No.” The Timekeepers were constantly finding obscure people whose unheralded contributions turned out to be instrumental in creating their world, the only world they cared about. Like Leo Szilard, on the London mission.

“He’s an otherwise inconsequential, but colorful figure. He seems to have had an on-again, off-again sexual liaison with a certain Royal, starting about when we worked together in London.”

“So, there was a closeted Royal. Who cares?”

“No one, really. Except there was a bystander their surveillance photographed who eventually caught our attention. Or, more accurately, the attention of the servers in 2228 that I set on the task. I don’t think a human would have spotted anything.”

“A bystander?”

“Yes. The person we’re trying to recover is critical to a long-term project of the Founder. She personally asked me to locate and then recover him.”

“I no longer have faith in the founder. Remember the versions of her in London.”

“I have faith in the people I know, not who they might have been. I have faith in you, for example.”

Haakon narrowed his eyes. Did he have faith in anyone? In Nathan, for sure. Nell, too. At least probably. “So why do you need me?”

“I trust you. You have a good heart and are faithful. Service to others is what makes us complete, you and me. Join me in this opportunity. For me, but mostly for yourself.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. When he again gazed into her earnest gray eyes, he knew she spoke at least part of the truth. “I’m neither faithful nor good. But for you, for you I accept. What is it you need for me to do?”

She reached into a pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “I need you do go to these coordinates.”

He glanced at them. “What do I do once there?” 

“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

No time like the present. He stroked his forearm just so, and a holographic display flared.

Nell smiled. “I see you’ve not been too busy for the latest from the tech branch. I’ve got an implanted timepiece, too. Much more elegant than the older models.”

“Supposedly proof against accidents like the one that started this.” Like the damaged timepiece that first led him to Nathan. “When should I report back to you?”

“Take as much of your personal timeframe as you need. Let’s say I’ll be back here in Chicago Control twenty-four hours from now.”

“Got it.” He finished coding the coordinates and pressed the activate button.

The new tech didn’t do anything to ease jump jeebies, especially for a jump this long. The coordinates were over one hundred thousand years ago. He didn’t recognize the physical location.

When the field stabilized and sonics faded, he stood in an octagonal room, all white with polished black floors. A print of an enormous white orchid hung on one wall, over an LED sign that read, “Abiquiu, -10/31/126,891 16:35.” The trailing five ticked to four, then to three while he watched.

He called out, “Nathan, are you here?”

A familiar voice from behind him spoke. “I’m here. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Nathan’s voice.