John Schettler - Meridian

Kelly finally realized what they were saying, but he still had a bewildered look on his face. “Well, what do I look for?” He gave the book a forlorn glance.

“I’ve marked the place and scribbled all over the pages as well,” said Nordhausen.

“The way it reads now, Kelly, the second train, the one coming up from Amman, was blown up by Lawrence and his men. At four AM you read the passage through. If the second train gets by unscathed, and the third train blows up, the one from the north, then we’ve done our job and you can pull us out. Otherwise hang tight until the last possible minute. Let the fail-safe retraction scheme bring us home. It may give us just the extra time we need there.”

“What about the first train?” Nordhausen asked.

“Ignore it,” said Paul. “Maeve and I have worked this out.”

“Now, put the book away in a drawer like I said,” Maeve cautioned him. “I want it out of sight. Don’t touch it until four AM. Understand?”

“What if the damn thing vanishes , like the old man, or the note?” Kelly had a desperate look on his face.

“I think it will remain a stable element in this environment,” said Maeve, and Paul nodded his ascent.

“Lawrence is going to write the book one way or another. The note was a Radical Variable, the book should hold true, except for the outcome in this particular narrative. The only way it could vanish is if we do something that gets Lawrence killed.”

Jen had finished her work behind the main console and came running up with the good news. “Everything’s ready! You can toggle the primary power surge from the main console now.”

“Well people,” Paul took a deep breath. “The three of us are wasting precious time. Let’s head for the Arch!”

They started away in a rush of motion, leaving Kelly in their wake holding the volume of the Seven Pillars , and looking like a lost child. Paul looked over his shoulder at him.

“Take care of us, buddy!”

Kelly forced a smile in spite of the strange feeling that settled over him now. “Count on it, mister,” he said reflexively, but his heart was very heavy. He had the odd feeling that something was going to happen—something unexpected. His friends were all going off without him and he might never see them again. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on the things he might have to accomplish here.

They reached the heavy sealed doorway that would take them into the Arch complex. Paul was already entering the access code on the security panel, leaning in to let the retinal scanner verify that the numbers were being keyed by him.

Maeve hesitated a moment, looking from Paul to Kelly, then she turned and rushed back, reaching Kelly in a wave of motion and throwing her arms around him. She smiled warmly, giving him a tight hug.

“Don’t touch the book until four AM,” she whispered. “And if we’re not here to read it with you, bring us all back, Kelly… Bring me back to you. Hear me?” It was an action that was well out of character for Maeve, as she had guarded her feelings for Kelly very carefully. Here, however, at the edge of a leave taking that could become permanent, Maeve broke out of her shell of propriety. The action had an immediate effect.

Tears welled in the corner of Kelly’s eyes as Maeve released him. He was wrestling with a flood of emotions. All the sweat and labor of three long years was finally coming to a head. He was still flustered with the notion that he was living a second life, and the time seemed all the more precious to him as each second ticked away. Now the three people he felt closest to in the world were going off and leaving him with a history book! It was all too much to process at once.

The heavy titanium doorway opened with a hiss as the pressure variance between the two rooms equalized. Maeve turned and hurried over to the doorway where Paul and Robert were already making their way through the dark entrance with a last wave.

The moment was jarred with the ring of a telephone on the main console. Jen reached for it as Maeve hastened towards the yawning portal. The door was programmed to open for a brief interval and then automatically close again. If she didn’t make it through she would have to enter the access code all over again. Paul heard the phone ring and froze in his tracks, an odd look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Nordhausen nudged him. “You don’t think we’re getting a last minute call from our friends in another century, do you?”

“Hang on a second,” he waited breathlessly as Maeve approached the entrance.

“Oh, Miss Lindford! It’s for you,” Jen called, her hand covering the mouthpiece of the telephone receiver.

“What? Who would be calling me at this hour?”

“Long distance,” said Jen. “It’s your mother.”

Maeve rolled her eyes, as if acknowledging some deep inner fear that had finally come to pass. She had come to terms with the fact that her mother was going to be killed if the tsunami sequence reached the east coast. Her one hope had been that she would not even hear about the event, remaining quietly asleep in her little cottage on the shore of Boston Harbor.

Events had overtaken her, and Maeve managed to suppress the sorrow that welled within her as the evening unfolded. She would find time to grieve the loss later, she told herself. Then the visitor arrived with his pound of coffee and she threw her emotions into the one hope that they might actually prevent this catastrophe.

Time passed in a dizzy rush after that. Now it was running out. The Deep Nexus that had formed around them would soon begin to dissipate as the tsunami sequence surged west. She could feel it. Surely the alarm was up all along the Eastern Seaboard by now. All the media channels were broadcasting full tilt, and she had no doubt that every fog horn and lighthouse along the coast was signaling danger to any who could see or hear. Something must have awakened her mother and, by some miracle, she managed to get a line to the one place she knew Maeve would probably be if she was not at home.

Maeve stopped, nearly at the door, looking over her shoulder at Jen, her eyes wide with the urgency of a decision that clamored for an answer. The heavy metal door was swinging shut, gliding silently on well-oiled hinges; moving as inevitably as the great swell in the Atlantic. She looked at Paul and Robert, then at Kelly, and Jen where she waited, holding the telephone in two hands like something hot that she had just taken out of the oven. It would be the last time, Maeve thought, that she would ever hear her mother’s voice. If she slipped through the narrowing portal she might never see this world again.

All these thoughts passed in a fluttering instant within her mind, and her heart leapt with the only choice she could possibly make. She looked at Paul and Robert.

“Go!” she yelled at them. “Don’t wait. There’s no time!”

The great polished door swung closed, the seals taking hold at once with a sharp metallic clank followed by a sibilant hiss as the pressure reasserted itself. She stared at the impenetrable mass of titanium alloy, her eyes wet with tears. Then she heaved a quiet sigh and turned toward Jen at the main console. Kelly was frozen with a heart-rending look on his face. He started toward her, but Maeve held up a warding hand, intent on reaching the phone.

“This first,” she said with quiet dignity, and Kelly gave her an assuring smile.

When the door clamped shut the pale blue overhead lighting winked on to illuminate a long cylindrical tunnel. Paul stared at Robert, but was soon galvanized by the urgency of the moment.

“We’d better hurry,” he said, leading the way down the long tunnel as it angled ever more sharply into the depths of the hillside. The complex was buried deep underground, a precaution to help shield the environment against the strange effects that might be released should anything go wrong with the spin-out of the singularity. The tunnel led them to an elevator, and they rushed in, catching their own reflection on the polished metal doors: two ghosts in long white Arab robes. There were only two buttons on the elevator panel. One was clearly labeled ARCH and Paul pressed it without a moment’s hesitation. He glanced at the clock on the elevator wall, noting the time at 2:20 AM.