A Troglian knows
Mark Stewart
Copyright: A Troglian knows 2011 Mark Stewart. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author. This story is fictitious and a product of the author’s imagination. Resemblance to any actual person living or dead is purely coincidental.
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A Troglian knows
CHAPTER ONE
“JASMINE, WE made it in time.”
The girl bounded up the stairs, puffing from their sprint across the car park. “Jake, you spoke too soon.”
The fifteen year-old glanced over his shoulder, his eyes bulging at the scene closing the gap. The surge of holidaymakers was a sea of strangers. Each one wore the same expression. Get to the Timeportation building first.
Jake and Jasmine, luggage in tow, stepped through the main doors and were instantly greeted by a Troglian sniffing at their luggage. The chain that tethered the burly security guard and the midnight black hairless prehistoric dog was piano wire tight. The strain on the guard’s face displayed how much effort he used to hold back the creature.
Finally controlling the sixty centimetre tall beast, the guard said in a gruff voice. “I want both your names.” His concrete expression signalled that he meant business.
The two teenagers stopped in their tracks. Immediately the Troglian started to sniff their feet. He swapped his attention to hone in on Jasmine and wagged its long white tipped tail.
“What’s with the mutt?” snapped Jake. “Why is he more interested in my sister?”
“My name is Jasmine Ward: this is my brother Jake. We’re innocent of any wrong doings.”
“Did I say you had done anything out of place?” snapped the guard.
Jasmine slowly shook her head.
Focusing on the man’s name tag pinned to his breast pocket, Jake quipped. “T.W Morgan, maybe your black ugly sin of a dog doesn’t like long blonde haired girls.”
“Maybe yours is love deprived,” said Jasmine, deep in thought. “He is a male.”
The corners of Jake’s lips curled upwards. “That would explain why he’s throwing particular interest our way, especially towards you, Jazzy. It’s of no great surprise the whole race of mutts became extinct 85 million years ago. I’m flabbergasted that the person who went back in time was actually able to apprehend a single Troglian, seeing how they’re stronger than two men combined. If it wasn’t for him, and if he had thought his intentions through properly, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. The idea he had to revitalize the species was a sham from the start. The females only live twelve months. Good blood hounds though. If a Troglian didn’t exist I certainly wouldn’t miss their ugly faces.”
The guard stood to full height and looked down his nose at the two kids. His over grown moustache quivered when he talked. “Twins in the shape of teenagers bother him.”
“I suppose he told you that,” snorted Jake.
“You have a smart attitude,” said T.W.Morgan. “My Troglian knows. Nothing escapes his snow white oval shaped eyes; nothing at all. He has smelt your DNA. He goes skittish when something doesn’t add up.”
The Troglian stepped closer to Jake and again sniffed his ankles.
“Stop smelling me you prehistoric mutt of a dog.”
“Jake, don’t upset the Troglian, you know they’re only doing their job.”
“Jasmine, I don’t care for a Troglian, they’re ugly and they smell.”
“The males might be ugly, but a female is the essence of beauty.”
Jake pretended to throw up his breakfast. He snapped a smile at the guard who didn’t look amused. “Please call off the flea bitten mutt.”
“Trog, leave for the moment.” T.W. Morgan lifted a stubby finger and pointed it at Jake and Jasmine. “State your business in the centre.”
“We’re going on a holiday,” said Jasmine. “It’s the school break.”
T.W. Morgan yanked hard on the Troglian’s lead, pulling him away. “Mark my words both of us will be keeping a watchful eye on you two.”
Jake shook his head and, grabbing his sister by the arm, escorted her over to the nearest growing queue of people and stepped into line. He looked sideways into the eyes of the Troglian. It snorted and ambled off towards the next wave of people.
“That’s a weird beast,” whispered Jake. “The Troglian’s long hind quarters and stubby front legs make his backside stick upwards. When it ambles from one place to the next its rump sways from side to side and it never moves faster than a snail’s pace. If the creature opened its mouth more often, that annoying grunted cough might cease.”
“What are you mumbling about?” questioned Jasmine.
Jake shuddered and faced his sister. “Nothing important, a party wouldn’t cure.”
“Why does there have to be so many people?” said Jasmine, counting heads in the swelling line. “It seems to be getting harder to take a trip through time with each summer that passes. I’m positive previous years weren’t this bad. 2245AD is shaping up to be another rushed year.”
“Like you said to the guard; school holidays,” said Jake. “Everybody wants to leave this time zone and chill out just like us. I’ve read that Hawaii was a nice quiet place back in the brand new year of 2000AD. They called it the eve of new millennium.” He looked across at the Troglian. “And there were no prehistoric dogs.”
Jasmine’s shoulders slumped from the wait.
“That’s why you should be coming to the party to end all parties. We’ll slip into the year, 1999 to celebrate the arrival of the year 2000.”
“You help to make it sound thrilling. We might even meet that someone special.”
“Jazzy, you forget the rules. We mustn’t change history. The law is absolute. Harsh penalties will overtake you if one is broken. We can mingle with the people of yesteryear, but we must never be involved,” said Jake, leaning on a bronze statue of a man holding an old fashioned book in one hand and a briefcase in the other.
“If it wasn’t for the man you’re leaning on this place wouldn’t exist,” said Jasmine. “Time travel might never have been taken out of the book.”
“Professor Charles Bradshaw, thanks mate,” said Jake reading the plaque.
“The story goes that right after he gave his last lecture on the possibility of time travel, he died.”
“I know I read the article last week. I wonder what it would have been like living in 1942AD. Technology would certainly have been prehistoric.”
Jasmine was pouting as Jake scanned the terminus. People were already stepping through the hundreds of time porthole doors. He looked over his shoulder at the main doorway and spied the guard, T.W. Morgan holding back his Troglian. A fresh wave of teenagers had swarmed in through the main doors and into the massive ten storey building.
“Jazzy, the droves of the thousands of commuters reminds me of seeing the exact same scene in an ancient movie. People gathered like we are now in the days when they sat in aeroplanes made of metal to get from one country to the next. Melbourne to America took 24 hours.”
“What a painfully slow way to travel,” said Jasmine. “These days we can travel around the world before a hot chocolate has a chance to cool.”
“What about in 1969, three days to get to the moon. Five minutes these days. I live in hope one day soon they’ll do it in ninety seconds.”
“Last week I had a school class on the moon at mid morning. I was back in time for lunch,” added Jasmine.
“Studying moon rocks is so boring.”
“Where did you say you obtained the information on the planes?”
“I didn’t,” said Jake.
Jasmine shot him a sterile look.
“The museum of ancient history was full to overflowing with knowledge of the past.”
“Are you trying to inform me that you actually stepped foot in a museum? I’d rather take the guided tour through the hologram.”
“I thought it might be fun. Besides, I walked into this massive room full of old relics on the Second World War. Mannequins had been set up wearing soldier uniforms. They carried hand guns to shoot their enemy. I’m pleased to be living in 2245AD. I don’t fancy killing another human.”
“Sounds barbaric,’ said Jasmine. “Knowledge is the key to human survival. Did you know over one-hundred-years ago mankind got together and decided there would be no more wars? Every person on the earth is expected to help one another in a quest for knowledge.”
“I thought that happened two hundred years ago,” said Jake.
“Either way there is no crime, no jails and we have the freedom to go anywhere in the galaxy or through time to quench our thirst for knowledge.”
A massive surge at the departure door interrupted the conversation. The Timeportation centre was a mad house. Throngs of people were bursting through into the terminus like ants running away from a flood.
“Let’s hope we get away early this time around. Holding up my holidays makes me slightly upset,” said Jasmine.
The two finally reached the checkout. Jake stepped up to one of three-hundred computers bolted to the wall. Jasmine swiped the plastic chip she had buried deep in her pocket and stepped next to her brother.
“Speak your details. Include your exact date of departure and return,” said the metallic voice of the computer.
Jake cleared his throat and said in a military voice. “Jake Ward; time of departure is 24 May; year 2245AD. Destination Hawaii, 31 December 1999 3:04pm.”
Jasmine stepped forward. “85 million years BC. May 2, 4:04pm.”
A door at the far end of the long narrow room opened and they walked through.
“I thought we were going to Hawaii to see in the new millennium; party to end all parties?” said Jake.
“I was, but I thought this time around I’d go find a Troglian pup. The knowledge that a female Troglian pup can bring, easily out-weighs King Solomon’s treasure.”
“Good luck on that score,” said Jake. “By the looks of them I can see why they died out.”
“I’ll catch you up. I’m sure finding a pup won’t take long. Save me a place on the dance floor.”
The two teenagers were ushered along by security guards that were stationed at frequent intervals.
“Finally we’re on our way,” said Jasmine, catching a glimpse of the doorway at the other end.
Jake looked over his shoulder and watched the crowd swell. “We made it through in time. The terminus is full to capacity. Each one of the queues looks to be over four hundred deep.”
Ahead of the two there was a smaller group of people. They were mingling, discussing the slowness of the time. A military man walked over and, holding a semi transparent computer screen in his hand spoke directly at Jake.
“Where are you headed?”
“Hawaii.”
“Year?”
“1999.”
“Dressed in your 2245AD clothes? I don’t think so. Stow your gear in a locker, change clothes or you won’t be going anywhere.”
Jake stepped into an adjacent cubicle. After deciding what to wear from the catalogue, he placed his thumb on the scanner. A faint whirring noise filled the room followed by a bright light. The moment the light dimmed his clothes were hanging from a coat hanger next to the door. Jake emerged in the attire that the new millennium party goers would be dressed in.
“Now you look the part,” said the security guard. “I wouldn’t want to call in a Troglian to find you all because you were wearing the wrong clothes for the era you were visiting.”
“No, that wouldn’t be good,” said Jake.
“Don’t forget the rules about intermingling with the past people. They had their ways.”
“I know,” said Jake. “I must not change history. Any slight deviation could be catastrophic to this generation.”
The next wave of excited holidaymakers was quickly closing the gap. Both teenagers were swallowed in the mayhem and jostled about.
Jasmine and Jake held out their time cards to the usher. The wiry built man scanned them then handed both back.
“Jake Ward, you can make your way to door fourteen. Jasmine Ward you can make your way to door twenty-three. Have fun.”
The two smiled at the man and walked towards their time door.
Every digital clock hanging on the wall above the archways to the many time machines were running forward at a dizzy speed. The analogue clocks were running backwards at the same dizzy speed. Next to the archway that made up door thirteen a calendar slowed then stopped. Jake read the date.
“19th February 1942AD.”
Under the arch a dim light was growing. In seconds the whole threshold was a bright light. Then gradually the blurred scenery started to clear.
“There’s been a mistake,” said an unshaven man standing at the threshold of door thirteen.
A security guard stepped over to the man blocking the way. Jasmine snuck through under their legs and walked towards her door. Jake watched her step through and in a bright flash of light she was gone.
Jake was smiling as he was roughly pushed and jostled in the slight skirmish from the tall unshaven man. His time card was knocked from his hand. Jake bent to pick it up. The unshaven man lost his balance and fell over Jake as he stood. Jake dropped his time card again and was bumped off balance. He was teetering on the edge of door thirteen and had almost regained his balance when the timeportation hole sucked him through.
CHAPTER TWO
STEPPING FROM one time zone to the next was instantaneous. The second Jake was through the time threshold door the bright flash was gone. He looked about expecting to see party goers standing on a beach. The music was absent and there was definitely no sand under his feet. Jake was standing at the back row leaning on a seat in a large oval shaped room. There were few vacant seats that he could see. Jake slipped onto the seat he was leaning on and studied the room at length. Every person had their eyes trained on the tall thin man standing on a platform out the front. Behind him he spied a large white board. The man wearing a brown-three piece suit had finished writing and had whirled around. His mouth was open, but he wasn’t talking.
The man was staring directly at where the bright flash of light had been.
“What year is this?”
The middle aged man Jake had leaned into pushed his way onto the next seat. “Where did you come from?”
Jake eyeballed the area searching for an appropriate answer. He spied a tall man in a soldier’s uniform standing in front of a door. “I snuck in through the side exit.”
“I didn’t see you.”
“I was quick. What’s the date and who is the bloke in the suit and what is he talking about?”
“What planet are you from?”
Jake swiped him a stale look. “This isn’t 1999AD is it?”
The man leaned closer to Jake, whispering. “19th February 1942.”
Jake slid low in the seat. He wasn’t in the time zone he expected and he had lost his time card. Without it, he was stuck in 1942. He was in a bind. He had to either create a time ruckus or wait it out for a Troglian to arrive and try to explain his way out of trouble. His eyes bulged. Not a good thought. T.W. Morgan would come too. He puffed his cheeks and sighed heavily. Either way a Troglian knew. Surely if he didn’t change history too much he wouldn’t be severely reprimanded. He certainly didn’t fancy spending five years shifting ice in the Antarctic.
Jake’s remaining option was to connect with Jasmine. If she came before a Troglian then they would be back in 2245AD before Morgan and his mutt knew.
To help channel his thoughts to Jasmine, Jake closed his eyes to block out the words the man at the front of the room was saying. Sweat broke out on his brow. He eventually sighed and opened his eyes. He couldn’t make the telepathic connection. There were too many distractions. What he needed was a quiet barren place for an easier connection.
In a heartbeat he had decided on which avenue to pursue.
The moment the lecture was over he would talk to the bloke and cause a minor rift in time.
“Good morning,” said the man wearing the three piece suit. He had closed his jaw and looked ready to begin his lecture. “If no one recognizes me I am Professor Charles Bradshaw. I have summoned you today to be involved in an important part of history. Gentlemen of the government, personnel of the military, I am excited to inform you that time travel is possible.”
The Professor looked around the room at the shocked faces. The jaw of each person had dropped wide open. Jake was the only one who wore a smirk. For over ten seconds the room was graveyard quiet. A deafening roar like a volcano eruption shattered the silence. Laughter echoed off the walls. Feet stomped on the floor boards making the noise louder.
The Professor raised his eyebrows, viewing the carnage. His gaze finally settled on Jake. He stared directly at him as he tried to continue his lecture over the unrestrained noise.
“I believe one day time travel could be as common as crossing the country by train.”
Laughter was renewed throughout the room. Every person in the auditorium stood in unison. A mass exit followed and in minutes the large room had been emptied. The Professor, red faced, started stuffing papers in his black leather brief case. When he spied Jake walking towards him out of the corner of his eye he stopped and stared.
“You’re the last to leave. Why?” asked Professor Bradshaw.
“I was interested in what you had to say.”
“At least someone was.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir.”
“I like the polite greeting. Tell me something, where did you come from? I remember the chair you were sitting in was vacant right before I began my lecture, the next, you were there.”
“It’s a long story.”
“Do tell.”
“Firstly, allow me to formally introduce myself. I’m Jake Ward,” he said thrusting his hand out.
The two pressed the flesh. “I’m Professor Charles Bradshaw.”
“I know that. Let me start by saying your statue is a perfect likeness.”
“What statue?”
“It’s part of my tale.”
“I’m listening.”
“In my school studies the only information that I or anyone else could find about you was that you discovered time travel. Sometime in 1942AD you vanished. Never to be seen or heard of again. In the year 2045AD your notes, the ones you are placing in your briefcase were found deep in the government archives. A man going by the name of The Keeper unravelled the information and built a time machine.”
“Don’t make me laugh.”
Jake stuck his hands in the air. “On the morning of 19 February 1942, Darwin was bombed.”
“Son, I don’t know where you found your information. This is the date you just mentioned. I’m here, there’s no bombing.”
“So this room is in Darwin, on 19 February 1942?”
“Correct. Excuse me I want to go home.”
“My facts might be more convincing to you if I start with the formula on the white board,” said Jake pointing.
“I’m going out on a limb here, but do you understand that mathematical equation?”
“I had to learn that formula by the time I turned eleven.”
The Professor looked down his nose on Jake. He grunted and went to walk away. “That equation is unique. There’s not a living soul on this planet who could ever understand it or what it represents.”
Jake sighed. “There are a total of two numbers and one letter in the middle of the one metre long mathematical formula that are missing.”
The Professor whirled on his heels and stepped next to Jake. He watched the teenager place the missing part of the equation exactly where it was meant to be.
The Professor fell dumb founded. His eyes had rimmed with water the second Jake back stepped to view the formula.
“I deliberately left the middle section out. I had a feeling nobody would believe me.”
“Hold that thought,” said Jake. “I always get the end wrong. The small ‘p’ is supposed to be a capital.”
Professor Bradshaw faced the lad. “Who are you? Do you know what you’ve done?”
“More than you know,” said Jake. “I have changed history.”
Three men in suits came rushing through the side door. They were walking towards the Professor military style. One of the three held a gun.
“Please, we must talk,” said the Professor.
“We sure do, but first we have to get out of here,” said Jake in a low tone.
“Don’t move,” the gatecrashers yelled. “Kid, find the exit door and leave this auditorium. Professor Charles Bradshaw we are here to escort you out of this building.”
“What’s the meaning of this?”
Jake back stepped away from the group. He found a gap in the ceiling to floor black curtain directly behind the white board and buried himself.
The three men grabbed hold of Professor Bradshaw by the arm, scooped up his brief case and started to apply severe pressure on his shoulders to make him walk.
At that precise moment bombs started to fall. Darwin was being attacked.
The whole building shook violently. Fires erupted from petrol storage tanks; planes buzzed the air and a whizzing noise filled the air as more bombs headed for the ground.
“This is perfect timing,” snapped the man holding the gun. “Get Bradshaw out of here. Everyone who knows the man will think he died in the bombing. Take him to the insane institute and bring his briefcase. We’ll bury his notes in a government department. This day never happened.”
“What about the kid?”
“Leave him to the bombs. If he reports what happened here today, who’d believe him?”
On the way to the exit door the professor was pushed and prodded to force him to keep moving. He was given a jab to the ribs for looking around the room for Jake. To stop his resistance at being arrested he was knocked unconscious.
The door was slammed shut, plunging the room into a deafening silence.
Jake peered through the narrow gap between the curtains. He spied a pin prick of light forming at the rear of the large auditorium. It quickly brightened to the shape and size of an arched doorway. He let a smirk slip and ventured back to the stage. Bounding up the stairs two at a time he greeted Jasmine the moment she stepped through the porthole. He gave her a friendly hug.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue. Standing behind the heavy curtain blocked out enough noise for what I hoped was a perfect connection between us.”
“Jake what on earth have you done?” Jasmine whispered.
“None of this is my fault. The unshaven man standing next to me in the Timeportation centre accidently pushed me through the wrong door. Blame him.”
“We have to get out of here. The Troglians will be on alert.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Jasmine, there’s a problem. I lost my time card, that’s why I telepathically called you. I think my time card went through the doorway to 1999AD. Before I could confirm that fact I lost my balance and was sucked through to 1942AD.”
“If you’re suspicions are correct, how long before your card is returned to 2245AD?” asked Jasmine, looking slightly worried.
“Twelve hours. If you didn’t come to my rescue, I was thinking on the lines of a time ruckus.”
“That’ll get T.W. Morgan and his Troglian here in double quick time. You don’t want that,” said Jasmine.
“Are you positive. The idea was my back up plan.”
Jasmine shook her head. “You have to take your chances with the law. They don’t like a messy time line.”
“My time card was lost, I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“Trying to convince them of that fact is like extracting teeth without a laser drill,” said Jasmine. She eyed her brother suspiciously.
Jake’s eyebrows shot upwards. “I think it might be too late for your idea.”
“You haven’t created a time ruckus already?” Jasmine clicked her tongue at her brother’s blank expression.
“If we get back to our own time before the Troglian tracks us down, T.W.Morgan will have thought he’s gone off the rails. Further more if we arrive at the exact second my time card reappears, I’ll pick it up off the floor and they won’t know what happened.”
“That’s a lot of ifs,” said Jasmine. She fell silent for several seconds, deep in thought. “We’ll follow your back up plan. If that doesn’t work we’ll try to convince Morgan you were innocent. What’s first?”
“I have to convince the Professor to help me.”
“We,” said Jasmine. “We have to convince him to help us.” She glared at her brother. “Who are you talking about?”
CHAPTER THREE
JAKE PLACED his arm over his sister’s shoulder, explaining every minuscule detail. The whole time she listened to his story, her head was shaking.
“Jazzy, to smooth over my decision to cause a time ruckus, I can now fill in parts of history that has eluded historians for centuries. Not to mention fill in the gaps to my term assignment. You and I are the only ones who know what happened to Professor Bradshaw and the original time machine papers.”
“I guess that should account to something. Where is he, I’d like to meet him?”
“The Professor was kidnapped by the government and will be locked away in an insane asylum. According to what we know of history he was never heard of again after today. His wife and family went missing too. History books say they were blown up in the bombing raid on Darwin.”
“Come on, we’ll have to find the man, help him escape and convince him to be on our side. Hopefully we’ll have enough time to rescue his family.”
“We have to do all that before T.W. Morgan and his Troglian arrive,” added Jake.
Jasmine was looking slightly sceptical at the plan. She checked her watch, counting the remaining hours when Jake tapped her on the shoulder.
“Punch up the tracker unit on your phone and don’t worry. There’s an Australian saying that used to be quoted centuries ago. I read it in a comic book.”
“If mum finds out you were goofing off instead of finishing your assignment she’ll force you to spend the rest of your holidays on the moon.”
Jake shuddered at the thought. “I don’t really care to mow the lawn around the thousands of golfers who want to hit a white ball.”
“Imagine how far you could hit the ball if they hadn’t increased the gravity on the moon?”
Jake snorted. “It would be a long eighteen holes of golf.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “What’s the Australian saying you discovered?”
“She’ll be right. You wait and see. I bet you a seat on the next shuttle to mars that everything will work out fine.”
“I fail to understand how anyone could think ‘she’ll be right,’ could be a good saying?” said Jasmine. “I deal in facts. To leave something to chance like a flip of a coin is not a good thing.”
Jake smirked at his sister. “It’s time to fire up the tracker unit.”
“Where’s yours?”
“I dropped it.”
“Brother, what would you do without me?”
“This wasn’t my idea. I wanted to see in the new millennium.”
“There’s always a next time,” said Jasmine, chuckling.
“Did you find a female Troglian pup?” asked Jake.
“Like I said, there’s always next time.”
“I wonder how I knew that would was going to happen?”
Jasmine punched a few numbers on her pocket phone. Its short antennae extended. She poked the end of the thin wire at the small table. “This will pick up Professor Bradshaw’s DNA. We’ll follow it, pick up his briefcase and spring him from the insane home.”
“Too easy,’ said Jake.
“It would be if it weren’t for an almost flat battery,” said Jasmine, scrunching her nose at the flashing red light.
“You’re joking? Why didn’t you charge it before starting the trip?”
“I did. I used the DNA sensor tracker to help find my phantom Troglian pup.”
“Trogs are male.”
“I know I altered the tracker to pick up on only female pups. If I found one I would have had enough credit to buy us ten weeks at Alpha Centauri.”
“Now that is the party to end all parties,” exclaimed Jake. “Only the famous go to that planet.”
“A short thirty six hour round trip and a full twenty one days of relaxation before school started again. What a perfect way to end the summer vacation.”
“Sis, you’re one of a kind.”
“Who said you were going to come?”
“I thought the way you were sounding I was a sure bet.”
She smirked at her brother’s hurt expression. “If I ever find a female Troglian, I’ll shout you the round trip. That is if I don’t discover a more adequate offer.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“Jake, you’re only my brother. If a nice young man swung into my path, take no offence, I’d be chasing him.”
“I understand. I would probably do the same.” Jake scratched the side of his temple. “Before your battery runs completely dry, would you care to start the sensor?”
Jasmine placed a small round metal disc in her ear. She then pressed the start button and a slow beep filled her inner ear. She swept the unit back and forth in front of her to pick up the trail. “This way,” she said pointing to the side door.
Jake scouted ahead watching for any uniformed men. He slowly opened the door a few millimetres at a time. Sunlight filtered through the widening crack. The moment the sun hit the face of the sensor unit the battery started to recharge.
“The building adjacent to where we are standing seems to be our destination,” whispered Jasmine.
“An old fashioned airport lies behind it,” said Jake, excited. “The Professor has probably been placed in a room waiting to be transported to the asylum.”
In the distance air raid sirens were wailing and the airport was a buzz and full of life. Men in flying uniforms were running around trying to get their planes into the air.
A guard wearing a military uniform looked across the road. His stare seemed to bore into Jake and Jasmine. They ducked behind a wall and, keeping low they peered out at ground level.
“The expression on the guard’s face says nothing would ever get past him,” said Jasmine pointing the hand held unit’s antenna at a window. She read the message that was being displayed on the glass panel of the phone. “The Professor is definitely in that building. His exact location is in the middle of the room behind that window that we’re looking at.”
“How’s the battery?”
Jasmine studied the unit in the palm of her hand. “Fully charged; thanks to the sun.”
“It’s time to use the light distortion unit,” said Jake.
Jasmine commenced punching a series of buttons on the hand held unit’s glass front. There were whispered hums and the two vanished.
Hearing a noise and thinking that the two kids he had been watching were crossing the dirt road, the guard turned. His head darted back and forth searching. He scratched the back of his head, puzzling over what had made the noise.
Jake and Jasmine had hurried across the road and, squatting behind a medium sized bush directly under the window they watched the guard’s antics. Eventually the man shrugged and recommenced his guard duties.
Panic stricken people swarmed out of their homes that fringed the airport. The peaceful morning was obliterated by the noise of bombs dropping in the Darwin CBD. Roofs on houses collapsed, businesses had their glass fronts blown away and fires roared to life. Army soldiers were running around like ants looking for a rifle to use for retaliation at the attack. Behind the building a squadron of propeller driven planes burst into the air to intercept anymore planes that hadn’t dropped their bombs.
Darwin was definitely under attack.
Jake peered in the window hoping to listen in on any muffled conversation that was in progress. The only words he could make out were: Crazy man. Insane asylum. In seconds the conversation was over. The soldiers in camouflage attire hurried out of the shoe box sized room, slammed the door and slid the bolt home.
“Now’s our chance,” whispered Jake.
Jasmine nodded, lifted her mobile phone and pointed it at the brick work. “The laser cutter takes a whack of juice. Let’s hope the battery lasts.”
“It should. Even if it goes flat, the sun only takes two minutes to recharge the battery.”
Jasmine moved her arm in a slow precise circle that was large enough for a person to crawl through. “Helping the professor to escape will certainly bring the Trogs double quick time,” she added.
Watching for the guard’s return, Jake nodded.
In seconds the laser cutter had done its job. A further several seconds to allow the rim of the hole to cool and the gap was ready to crawl through.
The Professor was staring through saucer size eyes, watching the two teenagers enter the room. “How?” his mumbles were a whisper at best.
Jake lifted his finger to his lips. Immediately the Professor fell silent.
Jasmine walked over to where he had been tethered to an uncomfortable metal seat. She studied the rope that held him in place.
“Jasmine, we have company,” Jake said, glancing over his shoulder, his ear against the door.
The same laser cutter that was used on the wall snapped the rope like it was chalk. Muffled footsteps stopped outside the door.
Jasmine didn’t have to be told twice. She pushed a button on the side of the phone. Jake slid across the room and under the chair.
They group of three vanished.
There was a click and the solid metal door was pushed open. Three armed guards walked in, followed by four more. At seeing the vacant seat, anger red swept their faces. They spied the hole in the wall and sprinted across the room.
The man who seemed to be in charge pushed the rest of the group into action. “Get after the man. We don’t want to have an insane scientist spreading rumours.”
Three of the soldiers sprinted through the open doorway. The last man slammed the door shut and locked it. The rest of the military group crawled through the hole. In seconds the room had been plunged into silence.
Jasmine pressed the close button on her mobile phone. Instantly the three materialized.
“What just happened,” spoke the Professor, calmly.
The deep crevasses on his brow gave away the fact that bewilderment had pushed out the genius side of his brain.
Jake slapped the man on the shoulder. “We don’t have time for explanations. We have to leave. A Troglian is bound to be aware of our disappearance. Believe me when I say I’d rather be chased by those guards than T.W. Morgan and his Troglian.”
“What’s a Troglian?”
“Everything will be explained when we are safely away from here,” said Jake and Jasmine in unison.
“Lead on, I don’t want to go another round at being the punching bag,” said the Professor touching his tender black eye.
Jake walked to the only other piece of furniture in the room and snatched the Professor’s briefcase off the table. “Are all your notes in here?”
“Yes. Years of research and personal papers on the idea of time travel are in that bag.”
“Good. Jasmine, it’s time to go.”
“Go where,” said the Professor?
“Your place,” said Jasmine.
“Why go to my home and endanger my family? I’m positive the army will go straight to my home.”
Jake picked up on the idea. “That’s exactly why we have to beat them there.”
“Before I crawl through that hole I need an explanation,” said the Professor, pointing at the wall. “This supposed escape could be a set up.”
“Trust us,” said Jake. “I will explain everything when we arrive at your place. By the way, the girl is my sister, Jasmine.”
“It’s a real pleasure to meet you,” said the Professor.
“I apologize for Jake’s rough introduction, but we don’t have time for a long conversation.”
On the outside of the hole a buzzing noise could be heard. Jasmine stuck her head through the hole. Almost instantly she back stepped. “Jake, there is a bee.”
He stared wide eyed. “Oh, no, not already?”
Jake hoisted the briefcase into the air and waited for the bee to enter the room. He didn’t have to wait long. The bee flew through the hole and hovered above Jake’s head. He didn’t hesitate, swatting the bug using every ounce of strength he could muster. The small creature bounced off the side wall. Jake stooped, picked it up and placed it in his pocket.
“That didn’t look like a bee,’ said the Professor. “The insect was too small and blue in colour.”
Jasmine gave the man a sterile glance. “You’re right. We’ll explain later. It’s time to go.”
CHAPTER FOUR
PROFESSOR BRADSHAW led the way along the wall of the building to an army jeep that had been painted camouflage green. He sat in the driver’s seat looking for the guard.
Jake leaned sideways. “I think the soldiers are too busy searching for you elsewhere. If we hurry I believe a clean escape is a certainty.”
The Professor gave a sharp nod, revved the engine and the jeep was on the move. They drove straight through the open front wire gate and headed south at ninety degrees to the airport. In minutes they were snaking their way along the coast road. Behind them Darwin lay in ruins. Billowing black smoke could be seen from the industrial side close to the sea.
“Does this automobile go any faster?” asked Jake.
“I’ve pushed the pedal to the metal.”
Jasmine scrunched her nose, looking slightly doubtful.
Jake leaned over the side of the jeep to watch the road slip past. “I can now understand why this contraption moves so slowly. The wheels touch the ground.” He caught the Professor staring at him. “It’s part of the explanation. If nothing else, the noise will slow the Troglian.”
“Is that a good thing?” asked the Professor.
Both Jake and Jasmine were nodding seriously.
The Professor slowed the jeep on a bend and turned up a narrow dirt road. Pock marks littered the middle where vehicles had bounced their way to the top. Deep crevasses had formed on both sides of the track to aid in channelling the rain water towards the ocean far below. The cliff face opened to a large plateau. The jeep pulled up outside a small conservative house. Weatherboards and not bricks lined the outside walls. A large gum tree grew in the front yard taking up most of the space. The garden bed, full of medium sized bushes lined the drop off. Except for a small patch of grass in the north corner of the block the rest of the land was compacted dirt.
A tall thin woman, long red hair tied back in a tight pony tail, met the three before they had a chance to step down from the jeep.
“Charles what’s going on? I was worried for your safety when I heard the report on radio that Darwin was being bombed.”
“The kids?” asked the Professor.
“The school bus dropped the kids close to home. They’re in the backyard. Who are these two children?”
“Victoria, these are special guests. They have an incredible tale to tell.”
“Why have you a black eye?”
“There’s no time to pack anything,” said Jake barging through the front door.
Jasmine followed him into the first room on their left. A large radio in a corner was playing a slow melody.
“Hold on a moment, young man,” said Victoria. Her tone of voice relayed that she wasn’t happy at the intrusion by two young strangers.
“Please, we have to get ready to leave,” said Jasmine.
“Has leaving anything to do with the Troglian?” asked the Professor.
“Yes,” said Jake.
“Please, you have to explain everything.”
Jake cleared his throat. “We owe you that much.”
Professor Bradshaw’s wife folded her arms. “I demand you tell me what is going on? I will not be bullied into leaving my home by you or anyone.”
Professor Charles Bradshaw raised an eyebrow at Jake. He looked across at his sister. She looked at Victoria.
“I’m waiting,” said Mrs. Bradshaw.
“This is your fault Jake, you should be the one to fill in the details,” said Jasmine, smirking.
“I’m waiting for that explanation,” said Victoria, tapping her flat soled shoes on the polished floor boards.
“I’m Jake Ward; sitting on the seat is my sister, Jasmine.”
“Your sister, if you’re saying the truth, is sitting on a two seat sofa.”
Jake gave the woman a warm smile. In return he received an ice cold stare.
“Please, I think we’ll be more comfortable at the dining table,” said the Professor. “At least not one person will be looked down on.”
The group sauntered through a small doorway. The small room had a six seat dining table and a matching mahogany coloured buffet. They sat at the same time eyeballing each other. Victoria Bradshaw sat directly opposite Jake glaring at the intrusion. She had folded her arms tight across her waist. It was clear that there was no way she would be leaving the house in a hurry.
Jake’s story was well rehearsed.
“In 1942, or our history books have told us, a man, you, Professor, had an idea that people can travel through time.”
Charles Bradshaw lifted his hand to interrupt. “There’s is not one person alive who knows anything about my work, not even Victoria has an ounce of knowledge on what I’ve been trying to achieve.”
“We’ve been taught that your wife vanished on the day of the Darwin bombing.”
“Vanished?” snapped Victoria Bradshaw.
“Yes, though there has been no record of what actually happened, Jasmine and I have uncovered the truth.”
“And that was?” asked Victoria, looking sceptical.
“Professor, you were whisked away to the insane asylum for the duration of your life. I have started to change history.”
“If what you say is true, won’t you be in trouble?” said Victoria.
“Yes and no. In the year 2245AD the world is at peace. Mankind’s ultimate goal is for knowledge.”
“What year did you say?”
“2245AD,” said Jasmine, interrupting.
Victoria shook her head. “Young man; how old are you?”
“Fifteen,” said Jake. “Jasmine’s actually older than me by thirty seconds.”
“That clearly explains everything. You two are either having a joke at our expense or you are in need of attention.”
Jake’s shoulders had slumped. “I thought convincing you would have been a tad less effort.”
“You thought wrong,” snapped Victoria. “Can’t your mind distinguish fact from fiction?”
“What about the fact that the soldiers are after you and your idea on time travel, Professor?” questioned Jasmine, rushing to back up her brother.
Through hurtful eyes Charles looked across the table at his wife. “I have to take the kid’s side. Soldiers did arrest me, gave me a black eye and confiscated my briefcase.”
“At the moment history hasn’t been completely changed,” said Jake. “It’s only slightly altered.’
“Then I could spend the rest of my life locked away.”
“Yes. That is a real possibility.”
“There is an alternative,” said Jasmine.
“What’s that?”
“You have to come back to the year 2245AD.”
“I can’t leave my wife.”
Jake dropped his gaze to the fruit bowl in middle of the table.
“What’s the look for?” asked the Professor.
“History books have recorded your wife died in the bombing raid.”
“My kids?”
“There was no mention that you had kids,” said Jake looking up.
Victoria Bradshaw stood and, leaning on the table, spat. “Young man, unless you have proof of what you are saying it is time for you to leave. Take your sister and go home. I have taught many children with more imagination than you two combined. I know a liar when I hear one. And you, Charles, how could you entertain the practical joke?”
Jake stood. “I am no liar.”
Professor Bradshaw glared at his wife.
“Charles, are you going to sit there and listen to the yarn these two are spinning?”
“Yes. I have seen first-hand what they are saying is true. They need listening to.”
Jake said calmly, directing his words at Victoria. “I guess the only way to cut to the crux of our tale is to simply show you. Jasmine, please start up the cloaking sequence.”
“There’s not enough juice left in the battery.”
“Great. What we need is a couple minutes of sunlight.”
Jasmine’s eyes sparkled. “Hold that thought. We’ll use electricity.”
“You sound surprised,’ said Victoria.
“We have no use for the substance in 2245AD.”
“This ought to be good. What do you use?” she asked, smirking.
“Solar energy all the way.”
Jake walked over to a power point, pressed a series of buttons on the unit’s glass face panel and waited for the red light to turn green.
“What is it you are actually doing?” asked the Professor walking over.
“The sensor box is using Bluetooth to collect the electrons in the electricity and in turn they’ll charge the battery. While we’re waiting to show you the confirmation of our tale I’ll water down the rest.”
“Please, do,” said the Professor. “I’m more than interested.”
“I have always liked a good fairytale,” said Victoria, sceptical of every word she had heard.
“Professor, in 2011AD a man known as the Keeper discovered your briefcase in the government archives. Your ideas on time travel were perfectly preserved. He developed a timeportation machine and took all the credit that you deserve.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered.
“The Keeper went back in time to 85 million years BC. He found a prehistoric dog known to us as a Troglian. He brought several back. The Keeper realized that he couldn’t breed them due to the fact they are all males and, if I need to add, they are ugly.”
“They are not ugly,” snapped Jasmine.
Jake glanced sideways at his sister. “Each to their own ideas. The Keeper quickly discovered they are extremely intelligent and can track anything. Time and space proved no obstacle. To do this a Troglian let’s a scout fly out of its mouth. The small winged creature that resembles the size and shape of a bee follows the person’s DNA and is accurate to within a millimetre.”
“A millimetre?” questioned Victoria, angling her eyebrows to a point. “I have never taught that unit of measure. Living in Australia in 1942, I teach feet and inches.”
“What’s that?” asked Jake.
“Don’t you know twelve inches makes a foot?” She had folded her arms tight about her waist and was looking angrier by the second.
Jasmine interrupted the argument. “The unit of measure changed about 1975. I read about it a few years back.”
“Seeing how you came from the future, I thought you would have been more accurate,” snapped Victoria.
“I can see where this conversation is heading,” said Jake. “The metric system was phased in over a number of years.”
“Don’t give out too much info. You have to be careful not to change the future.”
Jake stole a concrete look from his sister. “Sis, you’re warning is duly noted. Is the unit ready?”
Jasmine walked to the kitchen bench. She leaned over the unit that had been placed against the power point on the wall. “Almost,” she reported. “The red light has changed to yellow.”
“You were half way through explaining your story,” said the Professor. “Please, continue.”
Jake refocused on the man and his fuming wife. “It was reported that four weeks after bringing a Troglian back through time the Keeper informed the world about his discovery and turned filthy stinking rich. The Timeportation centre was built and here we are.”
“You’re story is a bit sketchy,’ said Victoria.
“We aren’t blessed with that much time,’ said Jake. He extracted the bee like creature from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Though it has the characteristics of a bee; this creature is like what you understand, ‘a homing pigeon.’ It telepathically sends the Troglian on guard at the Timeportation centre exactly what it is looking at and where it is. If any harm comes to it, the Troglian comes running. The only thing that slows the mutt down is too much noise.”
“The jeep,” said the Professor.
“Exactly,” said Jake.
Jasmine had swept the hand held device from off the bench and, back stepping made her way to over to the Professor. “I’m fully charged.”
“This will knock your socks off,” said Jake.
Jasmine didn’t look too pleased at what they were about to do. She leaned close to Jake’s ear and whispered. “Aren’t we giving away too much information?”
Jake shrugged. “Probably, but there’s nothing else we can do. If our idea goes according to plan everything will work out.”
Jasmine pouted and pressed a series of buttons on the touch screen.
Victoria’s scream was a gargle of mixed sounds. “Where did they go?”
“We’re still here,’ said Jasmine, switching the machine off, instantly reappearing. “My mobile phone bends light. Any person who is closer than two metres will appear to have vanished.”
“Are you saying that thing you’re holding is a phone?” said Victoria.
“It is.”
“Charles, can you explain any of this?”
“Maybe, if I could study the dynamics?”
Victoria switched her attention from her husband back to the two teenagers. “Tell me, do your parents know where you are?”
“Yes and no,” said Jake. “The rest of the story might be hard to swallow, but my father works on Mars. To put things into perspective, the journey between the Earth and Mars takes fifty one minutes.”
“All this is a lot to take in,” said the Professor.
“I agree,” said Victoria. “Charles, you have never spoken to me of your plans to build a time machine, why?”
“I apologize for keeping you in the dark. I wasn’t sure if it were possible. The moment I had the go ahead from the government, I was going to sit you down and, over a nice meal at your favourite restaurant, was going to outlay my whole plan.”
Victoria walked over and slipped her arm around his waist. “Then all this talk about time travel and the light bending machine is true?”
“It sure looks that way. Only thing that went wrong, the soldiers at the lecture arrested me. They placed me in a room and said in no uncertain terms I would be transported to an insane asylum within the hour. The bombing raid slowed them down.”
“Were they the ones who gave you a black eye,” said Victoria, gently touching his swollen eye socket.
“Yes. The more I tried to convince the authorities of the possibilities of time travel, the worse punishment they dished out.”
“We have given away too much information,” said Jasmine.
“Please, continue,” said Victoria. “I would love to hear it. Now I know what Charles has been working on these past seven years, I’m convinced everything you are saying is indeed accurate.”
“Thanks,” said Jasmine and Jake together.
“There is one thing I’m hung up on.”
The group stared at Victoria. “Where’s your mother?”
“She works on the moon as a greens keeper,” said Jasmine.
“There’s a golf club on the moon?” said Victoria, starting to massage her left temple.
“Sure, she looks at it as a holiday to relax. Her real job is helping to decide which planet is next to be colonized.”
“Need I ask how long it takes to get to the moon?”
“Three minutes,” said Jake confidently.
“Amazing,” said the Professor.
“Our auntie is skiing on Neptune. We were invited to go, but Jake wanted to party. He thought seeing in the new millennium would be exciting. The party to end all parties was the report. Midnight 31st December 1999.”
“You wanted a Troglian pup,” snapped Jake.
“Do you two argue a lot?” asked the Professor.
“Never,” said Jake, confidently. “We have friendly digs at each other. We’re extra close.”
“Tell me about the moon?” said the Professor. “This is 1942, I can’t even begin to imagine mankind contemplating stepping a foot on the moon. Surly we didn’t reach it sooner than the year 2050”
“On the contrary, Professor,” said Jasmine, smirking. “Twenty six years from now, on July 20th 1969, Neil Armstrong was the first man to step foot on the moon. I’ve been there at least a dozen times. Scientists were successful in creating an atmosphere in 2021AD. It has green grass, water, lakes and you can even try your hand at fly fishing or golf. There’s about a million people living on the moon. The rest of the planets in our solar system soon followed.”
“The moon is boring,” added Jake.
Jasmine said. “I have to agree with Jake. The place you want to go is the planet Alpha Centauri. We have never been. You have to be over eighteen. That place boasts only the famous travel there.”
“Incredible,” said Victoria.
“I think we were born in the wrong time zone,” said the Professor.
Jake heard a jeep stop outside the front of the house, followed by three more. Eight doors squeaked open and banged shut. He bolted for the window. “The army is here. Quick, dive into the corner, we have to stay silent or they’ll hear us.”
Jasmine stepped into the corner of the room and busied herself preparing the hand held phone. Two and a half seconds before the army broke the front door off its hinges, the group disappeared.
“Clear,” yelled the soldiers moving from room to room.
In minutes the soldiers had re-grouped in the middle of the dining room. None looked happy.
“I was positive the Professor would have come here. There’s a nice padded cell he’ll warm to. The insane institute has assured me he will never be released.” The sergeant’s voice was gruff and serious. “Keep an eye out. His wife and kids will be home soon. We’ll force them to tell us where he is. He must be the craziest person I’ve ever come across; time travel, what a joke!”
The soldiers left the house through the front door. They took up stealth positions to wait for the professor’s wife and kids to show. Each soldier prepared to pounce.
A whispered hum filled the room. The group reappeared.
“I’m certainly convinced of your truthfulness,” said Victoria. “I apologize for ever doubting your words.”
Jake shrugged a shoulder. “If the roles were reversed I’d have acted the same.” He glanced at his sister who was nodding her head in full agreement.
“What are we to do now?” asked the Professor. “If they find me I’ll never see my family again. I wish I had never discovered the solution to the time travel idea.”
“Don’t say that,” said Jasmine, alarmed. “The world would be a completely different place. I love the idea that mankind has been at peace for over one hundred years. I can’t imagine what it was like living through the Second World War.”
The back door squeaked open. Jasmine frantically started tapping numbers on her machine. She was almost ready to tap the start button when a low whisper made her fingers freeze in mid air. Slowly the group looked at the door.
“What’s the ruckus outside?” said a teenage boy.
“Why have soldiers strategically placed themselves in the front yard?” added a young girl.
“The soldiers came to take your father away,” said Victoria, sighing heavily.
“Take him to where?” asked the girl.
“It’s a long story,” she replied. “Kids, I’d like you to meet a couple of visitors. Jake this is our daughter Alicia and her twin brother, Nic. Kids, Jake and Jasmine Ward.”
“Gidday,” said Nic. “Are you here for a few weeks holiday?”
“Just visiting, for a couple of hours,” said Jake. He faced Alicia and raised an eyebrow. “How would you like to go to a party?”
“I’ve been to parties before.”
“Not like this one,” he answered, giving her a fox like smirk. Looking directly in the girl’s green eyes, added, “I’d like to get to know you on a more, personal level.”
“That certainly could be arranged.”
Jasmine battered her eye lashes at Nic Bradshaw. He sidestepped closer and gave an inviting smile.
“I hope you would allow me to show you around sometime?”
“I’d like very much, but there is a more urgent need,” said Jasmine nodding at a miniature flying creature.
“Soldiers on the outside and there’s a bee inside the house,” yelped Jake.
“You’re not scared of a bee?” coughed Alicia, sarcastically.
“No, but they aren’t real bees. The explanation is simple; a Troglian is on the way.”
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