Gloucester
Modern Day
It was going on day three since Electra and Emily had gone missing. Dr. Gordon, the so-called time travel expert, offered no useful information. Roger closed his eyes and rolled his head in a circle trying to crack his stiff neck. Exhaustion hadn’t caught up with him yet, but it would. He slept little. Every time he dozed off, he’d jerk awake a short time later. The same morbid fears that tormented him since their disappearance returned with a vengeance and kept sound sleep at bay.
Roger couldn’t make hide nor hair of the line graph of power surges associated with lightning in the area over the past year. He slammed the ledger down, a waste of paper in his opinion. In addition to the current information, they’d also pulled the data for the day Alex and Shakira had been transported. He remained unconvinced he and Gordon should track only the storms in a ten mile radius. No place that showed promise was too far to travel if it meant rescuing Electra.
He picked the ledger up and moved to where Oliver sat. He hit the escape button on the professor’s laptop then dropped the ledger next to it. “Oliver, where is the pattern to the most powerful strikes? I don’t see it. The lightning the other day was here.” He pointed to the red bolt symbol over Bristol Bay. “The passage opened here.” He tapped the spot where the outcropping was located. “The day the storm triggered the warp that took Alex and Shakira the lightning was overhead. What good are these charts? We’re dogs chasing our tails.”
“Your criticism is uncalled for,” Oliver said, looking up. “I was researching if anyone has spoken of a similar phenomena occurring when lightning wasn’t present, although the odds are slim.”
Had age afflicted the man’s memory? Oliver had taken Roger’s story about coming forward in time with childlike enthusiasm. The professor was the first person outside of Roger’s close friends who knew the truth. He’d have refused to tell Oliver, but the man demanded Roger reveal his past if they were to work together. “You know the lightning doesn’t have to be present. I told you the weather held no storm clouds or threat of storm the day Stephen and I were brought here. We should be out there every day, lightning or no lightning.”
“Calm down. There may be other crossover factors we’re not aware of. I warned you when we started this type of science has few givens and many best guesses. The very air may contain the type of charge needed to trigger the opening.”
“It won’t do.” Roger spun Oliver’s chair around so the man faced him. Oliver pulled back as Roger leaned down. “This is your profession, your job. I need answers. Find a way to make this happen.”
“I have toyed with an idea. It’s far-reaching, crazy even, and I’m not sure it isn’t dangerous.”
Impatient, Roger nodded with a yeah-yeah nod and gestured for him to continue.
“What if we give the outcropping a jolt? I mean a super powerful manmade jolt. What if we manufacture our own lightning source? I might have a way to do this.”
No second thoughts, Roger said, “Why are we losing precious time playing with these drawings? Let’s go.”
“I don’t have the means at my fingertips. I have to go to my lab at the university. It has the equipment I need to attempt to recreate super lightning.”
“Fine. I’m ready.” At the front door, Roger was met by Esme and Stephen. He hadn’t seen them since the search ended. “Do you come with news?”
“No,” Esme said. “Not the kind you want to hear. Can we come in?”
Roger stepped back so the couple could enter. “Oliver and I are on a mission. We have no time for chit-chat. Please say your news and leave. No offense.”
“None taken,” Esme said.
“We’ll cut to the chase,” Stephen said. “You must talk to Esme’s parents and tell them about us, about what likely happened to Electra and Emily.”
Roger had feared dropping that bombshell would fall to him. He’d shamefully hoped to find a way to the past and in his absence Esme and Stephen would be compelled to convince Mr. and Mrs. Crippen of the truth. “They won’t believe me. You know that.”
“It’s not going to be easy. But you must. Right now I’m sure they harbor a suspicion you’ve done away with my sisters. They don’t want to believe that, but it’s hard not to considering the mysterious circumstances,” Esme told him.
There was no avoiding the confession. “They’ll think me crazy, or worse, a crazy killer,” he said, resigned to it.
“At first, yes. But Esme and I will confirm what you say and Alex said he’d try to meet us at her parents. You won’t be alone in the telling of the preposterous truth,” Stephen said.
“Thank you. I appreciate the support. Should we go now and get it over with?”
Esme and Stephen nodded.
Oliver had stood at the side listening. “I’ll go too, if you wish. I am not witness to what you’ve experienced, but my studies support the possibilities.”
The gesture was unexpected. A moment of guilt pricked Roger’s conscience. He hadn’t been especially respectful to the scientist the last couple days. Considering his brusque treatment, the man certainly didn’t have to extend himself. “Thank you, but I’d rather you go on ahead to your lab. I’ll meet you back there when the deed is done.”
Oliver laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Good luck.”
“Well, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go.” Roger took his car keys out and the three left.
****
“Neither Stephen, nor I, have any idea how or why we were brought to this time. On my soul, I swear what I told you was true. I had struck Stephen down. He was crawling, blinded by my blow. I followed prepared to finish him off, when the world around us shifted. It is my deepest fear that Electra and Emily have also fallen through a tear in time,” Roger explained. But judging from the dark expressions the Crippens greeted the information with, they’d found his reasoning beyond the pale.
Roger saw Mr. Crippen clench his fist and braced for the blow. He wouldn’t fight the man he hoped would one day be his father-in-law. Mr. Crippen caught Roger on the jaw, hitting him harder than Roger expected. Merde. The older man packed quite a punch. It knocked Roger back a step. Mrs. Crippen stood behind her husband glaring at Roger, who didn’t move. He half thought she’d take a shot at him as well.
“How dare you come into my home with an outrageous tale concocted to cover up whatever it is you’ve done,” Terry Crippen said, looking like he would swing again.
Esme stepped between Roger and her father. “Dad, you’re wrong.”
He turned fierce eyes on his daughter. “Are you buying into this lie? How could you?” He turned his anger onto Stephen. “And you? I’ve loved you like a son. How could you allow yourself to be part of this farce?”
“Everything he said is true, Terry. It’s not a case of allowing myself to be included in an insane alibi or explanation for the girl’s disappearance. We are everything he said, medieval knights who battled each other at Poitiers.”
Janet Crippen moved from behind her husband. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her pale face reddening with her anger. “Liars.”
“Mom, Dad, let me show you something. When Stephen told me what happened to him, I didn’t believe either. He spoke of a wound he received at Crecy, where he was knighted by Prince Edward. Show her the scar.”
Stephen tipped his head up.
Esme continued, “I discovered a detailed drawing had been done of the battle’s aftermath showing the men who’d fought alongside the prince. One of the king’s chroniclers had done it as a gift for him. The original is in safekeeping in Canterbury.” She took out her cell phone and spun through her gallery. “The curator of the museum showed me a copy they had. I took a picture of it.” She expanded the shot on the screen and turned the phone around to show her parents the picture. “There kneeling next to the prince is Stephen. As you can see he’s bleeding from the chin. To the right of the prince is Alex, or Baron Guiscard as he was known.”
Janet and Terry both eyed the artist’s rendering of Stephen and then the man before them. They didn’t look convinced.
Someone knocked and Terry went to the door. His timing perfect, Alex had arrived.
“My daughter was just showing us an interesting photo of a picture she saw in Canterbury. It appears someone who is your double fought at Crecy,” Terry said. “I can’t wait to hear what you have to say. Please join us in the drawing room.”
Terry sat by his wife who’d taken a seat on the sofa. Everyone else remained standing. Roger thought they’d all agree standing gave three of the four of them a sense of quick escape.
“How I got here, to this time, isn’t important,” Alex said. “I can verify the person in the painting is me standing by Prince Edward and it is Stephen on the ground. We both fought at the battle. As you probably know, the prince granted knighthood to a large contingent of men who fought with him, Stephen among them. My father was a baron so knighthood was not an issue. The ruin of Elysian Fields you see now was my family home.”
Stephen took a paper from his pocket and handed it to Terry. “This is a copy of the news clipping that appeared in the papers prior to my being brought back to England. It’s a plea posted by the French hospital where I was treated. They were asking for assistance from anyone who might know me. The article states I was found injured on what was the Poitiers battlefield and that I claimed the year was 1356. They didn’t believe my story, of course. Alex knew they’d never found my body after the battle. I’d mysteriously disappeared. Considering his own experience with time, he surmised what happened and came for me.”
Terry read the story and handed the clipping to Esme.
Janet Crippen buried her face in her hands.
Terry wrapped a protective arm around his wife and pulled her into him. He wore every moment of worry for his children on his face and in his eyes, but he managed to be strong for Janet. He’d read the article without comment and listened to Alex without argument. Roger wasn’t sure if his silence was good or bad.
Alex continued, “The outcropping where the women disappeared possesses some quality that triggers a time tear, a portal, or whatever you wish to call it. I know this for a fact. I implore you to believe us. Crazy as it sounds.”
“This is too much to bear.” Janet stood and ran from the room.
Terry hurried after her and coaxed her into coming back. “We need to hear what our options are, if any,” he told her. “I need you to stay. We must remain strong, my dear.”
Janet nodded.
“I was born in Normandy in 1326,” Roger began. “Documents from the time—”
“That’s not important,” Terry interrupted. “Tell me what we can do to help, if this is what happened to my girls.” He turned to Alex. “You are the one familiar with this rock that causes the phenomenon to activate. We’ll do whatever is necessary.”
“There’s nothing specific you can do. We think atmospheric conditions may play a role in the time shift but we’re not sure.”
“Dr. Gordon, the astrophysicist, is working with me on the problem,” Roger said.
“Isn’t it unlikely Electra and Emily will be in the right spot when, or if, you can effect a shift? What then?” Janet asked.
“Then I will go after them.”
Electra’s parents huddled close, looking confused and lost in equal measure. The tales of time travel were a lot for them to absorb. Hell, if it hadn’t happened to him, Roger wouldn’t have believed such a thing existed no matter how many witnesses came forth.
“If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll leave,” Alex said to Roger.
“Go. Thank you for helping me.”
Alex said goodbye to everyone and left.
Roger wanted to leave as well. He couldn’t add anything else, and he was anxious to meet up with Oliver at the lab.
“I’m sure you want to take off too,” Stephen said low.
“Yes.”
“We’ll stay with Janet and Terry.”
“I’ll put some tea on,” Esme said and gave Roger a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry about Mom and Dad.”
Roger knelt in front of Janet and Terry. “I love Electra beyond measure. She’s my world. I’ll do everything in my power to find her and Emily.” He clasped Terry’s hand and gave it a squeeze, then stood and left.
****
Roger brought the lab’s spare stool over to where Oliver sat behind a bank of computer monitors. Oliver’s brows flicked up seeing the mark on Roger’s jaw. “What happened to you?”
“Terry Crippen clocked me a good one.”
“Was it something you said or your story he objected to?”
“Both. Any progress on the jolt theory?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I had a chinwag with the fellows down the hall working on climate change. They have done studies on lightning in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and someplace in Venezuela. Those areas that receive the most strikes. They recreated the lightning hoping, in their own Dr. Frankenstein way, to recreate and harness the power.”
“How does that help? You said we need to study super lightning not everyday stuff.”
“I see no realistic way to recreate super lightning, but I have an alternate idea. I want to try bombarding the outcropping with the fake strikes the climate fellows manufactured. Sort of like carpet bombing your enemy. I believe we may accomplish the same effect as the super lightning.”
“Do you have the machine on hand?”
The scientist’s face brightened in an excited, boyish way. “I do.” He rolled a suitcase-sized black box on a dolly over to Roger. “We’ll take this to the site.” From under the lab table, he pulled out a bigger box. “Help me load it into this transport box they made.”
The two of them staggered under the weight and Oliver nearly dropped his end. The lightning box was made of heavy gauge steel and weighed as much as a full beer barrel. They’d never be able to carry it down to the spot and the area was too wooded to drive it down. He’d take it to the stables and load a cart and have one of the massive draft horses transport the thing.
“How does this work?”
Oliver thought for a moment, then explained, “Think of it as a laser on steroids.”
“Interesting. Hope the juiced-up beam succeeds. Once we get the machine at the outcropping, I need to run home and gear up before we start using it,” Roger said. “I need to be ready. The passage doesn’t stay open long. The girls were gone in a matter of seconds.”
“I have to dash to the trailer and put together a Go Bag. We both have to be ready.”
“We? You’re not coming.”
“Oh, but I am. If you think I’ve worked all my professional life on proving the existence of time travel only to stay behind when the opportunity presents itself, then you’re soft as a grape.”
The medieval world was dangerous enough for Roger, who spent a lifetime there. No way could he allow Oliver to put himself at such risk.
Roger shook his head. “No, you cannot come. I forbid it. If by the grace of God, I find Electra and Emily, I will have my hands full protecting them. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to protect you as well.”
Oliver came around the box and squared himself inches from Roger. “You can’t forbid me for heaven’s sake. I’m old enough to be your father and I’m not a fool. I know the risk.”
There had to be a way around the stubborn man. Roger thought for a moment and then said, “I need someone here to continue operating the machine so the sisters and I have the means to return.”
“Got that figured out. I’m having my son meet us there. I’ll show him how this operates and he can continue bombarding the rock.”
Ugh...another person who’s going to know he’s a time traveler. “The rate people are discovering my secret, I might just take an ad out in the Evening Standard and let the whole bloody world know,” Roger said, frustrated by Oliver’s determination and plan. “Fine,” he said, hands raised in mock surrender. “Let’s get this baby running.”
“Yes. I’m ready. Perhaps I should bring a gun,” Oliver said as they rolled the dolly down the hall.
“Have you shot?”
Oliver shook his head. “No. Never touched a gun. But how hard can it be? You point and shoot. You just said it would be dangerous. If I’m packing, I can help.”
They reached Roger’s car. “Packing what?” he asked, popping the trunk open.
“Americans say they’re packing when they’ve a gun on them.”
Great. He was taking his gun knowledge from American gangsters. “No gun, Oliver. I’ve got my sword and my skills. I don’t fancy you shooting willy-nilly anywhere near me.” He didn’t like the look in Oliver’s eyes. There was defiance behind those horned-rimmed glasses. Roger made a mental note to search Oliver’s Go Bag every morning.