John Schettler - Anvil of Fate

“Christ,” he ran his hand over his brow. “I’ve been to the 8th century and back twice since I last had a good meal. But if we have to shut down now I guarantee you we’ll soon be wishing we had that gasoline back in your Honda, Paul. Things are falling apart out there, slowly but surely. We were forced to use our backup generators so the main power grid to the East Bay must have been down all night.”

“Right,” said Paul. “Then we’ll have to make fuel replenishment our first order of business.”

“And food!” said Kelly. “I’m famished.”

“Once we’ve secure fuel I can re-start the quantum matrix and generate a new singularity, but we’ll be very vulnerable until we can get the Arch up and running again, and establish a safe Nexus Point here.

“And then there’s the issue of growing civil unrest out there,” said Robert. “The system may not hold together much longer. Things were getting really bad down south in LA before Paul and I went into the City last night. The national guard is on the streets there, but hell, the whole damn U.S. army couldn’t lock down Baghdad during that war. It’s only going to deteriorate from this point on.”

He suddenly remembered something the Abbot had said to him just before he shifted back. “And another thing,” he said. “our lives may be in jeopardy now. The Abbot said we must be very wary, stealthy was the word he used. The Assassins have operatives all through the Meridian, and undoubtedly they have men posted to this milieu as well.”

“Right,” said Paul. “We talked about this before. We’ve been sloppy and careless after we thought we lost Kelly here, and we just can’t allow that to ever happen again. This is war now, and for better or for ill we’ve got to take a side, just as Rantgar said. We haven’t the resources to stand in the middle between them any longer, and given what we’ve just seen, the calamity they are willing to bring upon the world, I no longer have any doubt as to where I stand on this.”

He looked at the others, and they nodded agreement. There was too much at stake now for quibbling over who was right or wrong here. The Assassins had proved themselves to be merciless, and relentless. And they had to be stopped.

“So for us, if we’re going to do anything further with the Arch in the short run, it’s going to be all about food, fuel, and freedom when the Nexus dissipates here. We’ll have to bend all our energies to securing those three things.”

Maeve remained silent, sullen though resigned to these inevitable facts. Her gaze was ever drawn to Kelly, who sat near the History module running his hand through his thick, brown hair.

“Alright, I’ll go along with that,” she said at last. “But what’s our plan now?”

“There’s something Rantgar told us that stuck in my mind,” said Robert. “When Paul asked him how the Assassins were managing to get through Palma’s Shadow, he suggested they may have a facility, similar to the Well of Souls we found, and that they are using it as a relay station. If we could find and destroy that site it might take the pressure off of us.”

“Good point,” said Paul, “We could try and locate it and take it out somehow… unless they are shifting men in to a date in our immediate past, last Thursday, for example. We could destroy it today, but be unable to touch it last Thursday, so it may be fruitless. In fact, they may even be using the Well of Souls we found in this manner.”

“But Rasil and his men destroyed the Well of Souls,” said Robert.

“Right, but that was two weeks ago. Suppose they shift in three weeks ago, before you and I ever found it?” He thought for a moment. “But you’ve got the right idea,” he said. “They’ve had us on the defensive this whole mission, but the best defense is a good offense. It’s time we hit back, and hard!”

“Well we won’t be able to do anything now,” said Kelly. “I think the quantum matrix is resolving safely. We may as well shut this baby down now and use the remaining power to regenerate the singularity. But after we do, and before we do anything else, I want something to eat.”

They all just looked at him, and Maeve’s eyes began to glaze over with tears. She went to him, with a longing expression on her face, knowing that he could vanish again, swept over the edge of eternity by Paradox.

Paul was at his side now as well, and Robert walked over, putting his hand on Kelly’s shoulder. None of them spoke a whisper of the possibility that Kelly was only minutes away from annihilation. Instead they just gathered round him, like the captains and chieftains had closed ranks about Charles to secure his life during that final climactic charge of the Saracen cavalry. All they could hope for now was that, somewhere, Time had another Odo circling round the flank of this moment, ready to strike home at the enemy camp, and that Paul’s speculation that Palma may no longer require the sacrifice of Kelly’s life was indeed a real possibility. They had a 50-50 chance.

After a long silence, Paul cleared his throat, obviously weary, and struggling with the emotion of what he had to say. “Alright then, let’s test my theory and hope for the best… I suppose I should be the one to shut this thing down,” he fidgeted.

“Oh, no mister!” Kelly waved his hand away from the main power toggle. “This is my call tonight.”

Before anyone could say another word, he pulled hard on the lever and shut off the last fitful labors of the backup generator. The main lab lights immediately went dark, and he felt Maeve’s hand at his neck, softly reassuring.

“It will take a few moments for the singularity to fail and the Nexus to dissipate,” said Paul as the battery operated emergency lighting painted the room a pale blue.

The mission was over.

They waited in a silence that seemed endless, each one holding their thoughts safely within, unspoken, unknown to all but themselves. This was the greatest part of all human experience, Paul knew—to stand here, befuddled, beset with doubt, bewildered, and yet still hold on with love, hope, and the promise of yet another day.

Then Kelly moved and Paul thought he was reaching for something in his pocket, but he was clasping his breast, as if testing to see if he was still there.

He was.

He still had a head on his shoulders, and when the lights flickered on again he smiled with it, and breathed a heavy sigh. “Looks like P. G& E is back on line,” he said, his hand moving to his belly, still testing to see if he was all there.

“Well, I want a damn hamburger!” he said at last. “And a good brew or two… And another thing—I want my Giants baseball cap! Where is the damn thing? I’ve been looking for it all night.”

Robert laughed heartily, “We’ll find your baseball cap,” he said. “The hamburger and beer may take some doing, but you’ve got it, my friend, you’ve got it.”

Paul looked around, up at the lights and the equipment and the computer screens of the Arch complex, quietly humming back to life. The screen indicated the Nexus had closed, and Kelly was still alive!

“Well, we have a lot to get done,” he said, smiling broadly. “Let’s get busy!”

In the year 735 A.D., as the cold autumn winds again blew in from the sea and cast their rain upon the rich land of Aquitaine, Odo, Duke and Prince, lay himself down, weary, tired, and beset with fever. To Hunald, his son, he gave all his realm, and bid him hold it fast, lest Charles the Usurper come once more to steal these lands and sully the honor of his family.

History would not remember Odo, however, for it would not be written by his sons, but by those of Charles Martel. Pippin the Second would follow Charles with equal fervor and eventually subdue Odo’s beloved Aquitaine, and forge it into the loose confederation of clans and tribes that came to be called the land of the Franks. And after him Pippin’s son would be called Charlemagne and bend the lines of fate to his will in a long and glorious reign.