David
David stood in the corridor of the hospital, the door to William’s room open behind him, and looked right and left. Though he could see nothing untoward, the back of his neck was telling him that all was not entirely well. Or maybe it was that he’d been on edge for so long, he didn’t know how not to be.
“What are you afraid of?”
“What do you mean?”
David focused on Michael, who leaned against the wall opposite, his arms folded across his chest. As promised, he’d driven David to the hospital, but then afterwards, he’d stayed with him in the emergency room and come with him to William’s room. Back when they’d first arrived, David had told him he could go at any time, just say the word, but Michael had said William was his patient, and he wanted to see his treatment through.
David hadn’t argued then. But now he was concerned about what had to come next, and how to protect Michael from it.
“I’m not blind. I served, and I recognize the signs. You’re jumpy. It’s like you think a firefight is just over the next hill.”
David had put on the best face possible to William, because there was no point in railing against what couldn’t immediately be changed. He saw no reason to give William something more to worry about, but to say David was concerned about their situation was to woefully understate the case. Though William was recovering somewhat woozily in his private room, David’s concern had little to do with William himself. The doctors said he was doing well enough that, if things continued, he could be discharged tomorrow. Michael’s miracle gel had done its job, and a surgeon had cleaned out the damaged tissue and sewn him up front and back. Other than taking antibiotics and pain killers as needed, William would soon be good to go.
It was the rest of everything that was the problem. David didn’t want to be in Avalon right now, not with so many people back home depending on him. It was just somehow typical that right at the point where he was going to be able to put down these constant rebellions—hopefully forever—he’d been transported away. Though the Ireland insurrection had been a long time coming, David was starting to think that it was a failure of leadership on his part that was at the root of Roger Mortimer’s and John Balliol’s plans. Somehow, despite everything he’d accomplished, he was still seen in certain quarters as weak.
It was a condition that could not continue, not if he hoped to keep changing Earth Two for the better. Certainly, that was why Roger Mortimer had rejected his terms of surrender, declaring that if David wanted Beeston, he needed to ride there personally, hat in hand, to ask for it. David would have accepted a little humiliation for the sake of peace, but it would have diminished him in Roger’s eyes. That might have been an acceptable trade if this were just about David. But this was about England, and as the King of England, David wasn’t going to come running when anyone—particularly Roger Mortimer—called.
Maybe at one time he could have walked away from the kingship, but he couldn’t anymore. Too much was riding on his leadership, and too many people depended on him—not so much for their livelihood, though there was that, but for their way of life. Without him, without all the twenty-firsters, Earth Two could easily sink back into the bad old days of prejudice and brutality. If that was going to happen, it was going to happen only over David’s dead body.
None of that could he say to Michael, however. But he didn’t want to shut him out either. He felt he owed him more than silence. “It feels like a fight really might be.”
Michael jerked his chin to point south, which from Bangor was the direction of the mountains. “How long and where?” He was asking about David’s military service.
David studied Michael while deliberating how to answer. He had rehearsed in his head possible scenarios for the next time he came to Avalon, but outright lies still didn’t come easily to his tongue. In the rush of dealing with William, he hadn’t done more than a cursory assessment of who Michael was, but more was needed now.
He stood about 5’ 10” and had an athletic physique that in Earth Two would have meant he was used to hard labor—whether in the fields or with a sword—but here probably meant his workout included lifting weights. He had dark hair, eyes, and skin, but David couldn’t guess his ethnicity and was kind of pleased about that fact. England was becoming more diverse every year in a way that made him feel better about the way this world was going.
More important than what Michael looked like, he appeared to take in the world with an accepting expression that implied he had seen it all and could no longer be surprised. But he wasn’t angry about his past either.
Michael misread his silence. “Dude, you look like you’re going to eat me. You were special forces, weren’t you? That’s why you won’t talk about it.”
“I’m sorry, Michael. You’re right. I can’t.”
An elevator dinged in the distance. On instinct, David’s hand went to his waist, but he had no sword there. His calculations about what to be concerned about had been mostly focused on what was happening back home, but his jumpiness had to be attributed to the fact that the firefight in question would be in response to the arrival of MI-5, who were probably just around the corner waiting to pounce.
David couldn’t understand why nobody had yet arrived. Chad Treadman was also a force to be reckoned with. And David had no doubt that there would be a reckoning. Anna had done her deal with Chad only two weeks ago. David’s sudden arrival in Avalon had left him a lot less time than he’d hoped to figure out what could be, and should be, expected of him.
And still, Michael deserved answers. David just didn’t have any to give him.
Three people, each tall, dark, and wearing earpieces, two men and one woman, came around the corner at the far end of the hall. They were MI-5 for sure, and David squared his shoulders. He couldn’t leave William alone, so he had to take what was coming as best he could.
Out of the corner of his eye, David saw Michael move into a similar stance. “What’s going on, David?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out in a second.”
“Is this the firefight walking towards us?”
“I hope not, but I’ve learned not to rely on hope.”
By now, the man in the lead was within conversational distance.
“Stop right there.” David put out a hand to confirm the order, in case the trio missed the wariness in both him and Michael.
The man put up his own hand. “I’m Reg. This is Mali and Joe.” He indicated his two companions. “Chad Treadman sent us.” He held out a phone. “He wants to speak to you.”
Beside him in an undertone, Michael said, “Dude, Chad Treadman again? Who are you?”
David didn’t answer Michael and simply accepted the phone, though he didn’t take his eyes off the three people before him. “Hi.”
Chad’s voice came loudly in his ear. “Thank God. Everything okay?”
“Yes.” Back at Beaumaris, David had returned the woman’s phone to her once the ambulance had come, and it honestly hadn’t occurred to him to ask to borrow another to call Chad again. David had told Chad where he was, and he had assumed that Chad was doing something on his end about it. David had been right about that, but the panic in Chad’s voice indicated that he’d been stressed out. Anna was right that the ease of communication in Avalon had made everyone impatient with silence.
“Okay, good. I gather you’ve met the triplets?”
David had to laugh at the characterization, which was right on, and some of the tension in his shoulders eased. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Any sign of MI-5?”
Out of the corner of his eye, David could see Michael startle again. David put out a hand to him, trying again to be reassuring. He supposed he had the volume up too loud on the phone, but he didn’t know how to turn it down. “No, and I don’t understand why not. They were quick enough to go after Anna. They have to have someone up here in Gwynedd, don’t they?”
Now it was Chad’s turn to laugh. “It’s Wales. For a long time they didn’t even have an office in Cardiff. That’s where the only Special Branch office is too. I think the folks from Manchester are more likely to get to you first. I have eyes on them, and it’s obvious they’re scrambling. They know you’re here. They just don’t know what to do about it.” He paused. “Things aren’t quite the same as when Anna left.”
David detected a note of pride and even pleasure in Chad’s voice. “Why would that be? It was only two weeks ago.”
“Well—” Chad cleared his throat, “that may be down to me.”
David didn’t know whether to cheer or groan. “What did you do?”
“Not long before Anna arrived, my purchase of WMC went through.” Chad said this as if what WMC was and what it might mean that he’d bought it should be obvious, though it surely wasn’t to David.
He said so. “I don’t know what that is.”
“World Media Conglomerate. It’s the boringest name ever, I know. I thought about changing it, but it’s nice and neutral, and tells you nothing. Basically, I now own fifteen percent of the world’s media outlets. And I’ve been—” He paused again. David had never met the man, but he could picture him waggling his head, “—directing content recently.”
David found himself staring at Michael, who had stepped back a few feet so he couldn’t hear what Chad was saying, but his expression mirrored David’s concern.
Chad continued, now laughing openly. “There’s no reason you should know what I’m talking about, so I’ll just tell you. Two weeks ago, it was the spring equinox. Two thousand people had gathered in a valley below Mt. Snowdon, and just as the sun rose, every single one of them saw my plane fly into the mountain and disappear. It was a genuine miracle.”
David answered automatically because the rest of his brain was working on the problem. “Miracles are only convincing to the people who see them, and with the ability to manipulate images that I know you have these days—”
Chad cut him off. “That isn’t what happened. It’s a new world you’re in, David. Do you mind if I call you David? Sire is awkward here.”
“David is fine.” He was impatient with the question, though if he’d had the wherewithal to think properly beyond what Chad had just told him, he would have appreciated the courtesy of asking what he preferred. It was a far cry from the dismissal and disrespect he usually encountered in Avalon. “What do you mean it’s a new world?”
“Every one of those two thousand people on that mountain had a phone, and a third of them were filming the rising sun. A BBC film crew was there to mark the occasion—they were intending to make a documentary on modern pagans and apparently a ley line goes through Snowdon—and one of them had already heard from his superiors before the plane passed into Wales that the RAF had scrambled fighter jets to go after it. The entire world has seen the video of the plane disappearing. Your time of anonymity is over.”
David took in a breath, a thousand questions circulating in his head at once. He knew that a ley line was a path on the landscape believed to have spiritual significance only from extensive reading of fantasy fiction, so he could picture in his mind’s eye the scene Chad described. He also had some idea of what these phones could do, and a live TV crew certainly gave credibility to anything that was filmed. But— “I don’t understand why MI-5 would care what anyone thought. They never have before.”
“They never have had the attention on them that arresting you would bring. Remember I mentioned that I had been influencing content? I have spent the past two weeks broadcasting not only the videos of the plane disappearing, but also a documentary of your life.”
“What does that mean exactly?” David had a definite chill in his belly overlaying the dismay.
“I’ve documented all the incidents of time travel, starting with your mother’s disappearance in 1996 before you were born.”
David found himself unable to breathe. “You’ve told people my name? All of our names?”
“I’ve told them everything. Last night’s show was an interview with Shane and his parents. That was a good thing you did there. The bus passengers couldn’t wait to tell their stories. It makes compelling television. Ratings have been astronomical.”
David would have hung up. He wanted to snap the phone in half he was so angry, but he didn’t, just gripped it more tightly and instead of saying how dare you! he merely asked, in as calm a voice as he could manage, “Have you included my picture?”
“Of course. And before you bite my head off, if I hadn’t done this, someone else would have. That plane disappearing was the last straw. A journalist has been working on the story since Rupert Jones left, starting from his notes, which he found in Rupert’s desk. He hadn’t come forward earlier because he would have been branded a lunatic, and he doesn’t write for The Sun. I have to say that his research and presence has given the story added weight.”
The phone in David’s hand dinged, as did Michael’s and those belonging to Chad’s other people.
“There you go.” Chad sounded inordinately pleased. “I just got my new update on your story. I must say, you’re looking every inch a king.”
Michael had pulled out his phone and was staring at it. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He brought up his gaze to meet David’s eyes.
David grimaced and put up one finger to Michael. “Hold on a second. Just … just wait.” Then into his phone he said, “What just happened? What is everyone looking at?”
Down at the nurse’s station, a man exclaimed, “Wasn’t this bloke just here?”
“Look at the screen on your phone, David,” Chad said, patience for the technically challenged evident in his voice.
David did as he asked and saw a message on the screen with the headline, Time Travel is Real! followed by text that had his stomach sinking through the floor. “Chad—”
“CCTV footage of your arrival at the hospital has gone planet-wide. Plus, at least a dozen people had their cameras trained on the archer’s target when he missed and hit your friend, who clearly appears out of nowhere with you. Cameras have always picked up the flash as you come in, you know.” He paused. “I suppose you’ve never seen it, but you can now. It’s unreal. Just click play, and you can see the post.”
David didn’t want to click play. He didn’t want to stay in Avalon another second. “Why did you do this?”
“To protect you, of course. MI-5 can’t touch you now.”
David had a horrible feeling that what Chad had done was going to end up worse than being chased by MI-5. Michael was looking at him like he’d murdered a baby seal. Heads were poking out of doorways all along the corridor behind Chad’s security force. Then three people moved around the nurse’s station to gawk. Since David was the King of England, he was used to turning heads as he went by. Heck, people bowed to him. But that was in Earth Two. If Michael and the people at the nurse’s station were any kind of example, everyone here was just going to stare. One nurse had his phone up, and he was talking into it. After a moment, David realized that he might be taking a video.
Chad had made David into a freak.
He started to take a step back, more hesitant than he had ever felt in his life—and that was saying something. The urge to run was almost overwhelming. He understood now what Anna had meant about feeling like the world had accelerated into the future and left her more behind than the twelve years they’d lived in Earth Two should have done.
But then Michael, rather than the triplets, put out his hand to the man taking the video and took several steps towards him. “Don’t do this. He has a right to privacy in a hospital.”
Immediately, the man dropped his arm. “Right, man. Sorry.” He peered around Michael to look at David. “Sorry. I got carried away.”
David lifted a hand, astonished and a little humbled by the apology, enough so that he swallowed his dismay and was gracious. “It’s okay.”
In a lowered voice, the nurse said to Michael, “That’s really him?”
“It is,” Michael answered, seemingly sure, though how he could be, David didn’t know.
Because in that moment, David was sure of nothing. He’d fallen down a rabbit hole unlike any he’d entered before, and he knew, as surely as he knew his own name, that it was going to be a long drop to the bottom.