Chapter 14

Near one million BC.

Several days after Thad and Kathy’s arrival, the rain that had been threatening finally got around to starting in earnest. At first, it was little more than a drizzle, but after a few hours, it increased to a downpour that seemed destined to last the rest of the day. Kathy sighed as she thought that her snoring partner might also be right about the hurry-up and wait. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sleepy.

A couple of days later when the ground had dried somewhat, they spent the day exploring around their cave, then took a trip down the mountain in search of a place to fish. In the valley, they followed the stream until they found a likely place approximately fifty meters long and about half that in width. With one of his lures attached to a relatively long line, which in turn was attached to a thin pole from a similar clump of cane-like bushes nearby, Thad managed to get the lure out a few meters from the bank. No sooner had the lure hit the water than something that was a close cousin to a trout decided the lure was his. The line Thad was using, although very small in diameter, was nearly impossible to break. The fish fought only for a moment, and Thad had no problem bringing it in.

“I have my lunch,” he teased. “Want to try for yours?”

Kathy managed to get the lure out a little way and was working it through the water the way Thad had shown her when another fish, even larger than Thad’s, volunteered.

“I could get to enjoy this?” she said as he took the fish off the hook.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have a way to keep the fish, but if we have to stay here much longer, I think I’ll dam up a place near where we bathe so we can keep a few in the stream ready to eat.”

“I never knew fishing was this easy,” she said. “My dad used to fish, but he was sometimes gone all day and still brought only a few, if any, fish back home with him.”

Thad chuckled. “Ben there; done that. But, as I mentioned before, chances are this stream has never been fished in. Maybe in your father’s time, the fish had developed a sense of caution that these just don’t have yet. At any rate, we’ll have fish for lunch today.”

Down-time at Mack’s cave.

Mack struggled up the steep trail to his cave while trying to balance his water bucket with one hand. Hiking to the stream and back (especially back) had been a hassle from the beginning because of the steep trail, but with his injury, the trek was fast becoming an impossibility. His arm was totally useless. During the last two days, the wound on his shoulder had steadily worsened. He suspected that he had been delirious last night.

He let out a sigh as he set the bucket down just inside the cave and mustered enough strength to put the poles back into place across the entrance. After sitting and leaning back against the wall, he pulled the makeshift bandage from the wound. The inside of the dressing was again covered with pus, even though he had cleaned the hide and replaced it on the wound only a short while ago. The injury was oozing corruption, and the swelling had distended the area until the stitches were barely visible.

Mack cooked some meat on his spit and after forcing it down, rested for a while before cutting another piece of hide and boiling it until he was sure it was as sterile as he could get it. After it had cooled somewhat, he applied it to his shoulder. The rest of the day, he kept a low fire burning around his pot, applying hot compresses until well into the night. Some of the swelling seems to be going out of my arm. Maybe my body will fight off the infection after all.

After a moment, he shook his head. You’re deluding yourself. You’re in big trouble, Boy.

He knew he didn’t have the strength to make another water trip. In addition, the fever and accompanying nausea left him with no appetite. If I do force something down, I just throw it back up a few minutes later. Gangrene will be next if the red streak near the wound isn’t an indication that the infection has already progressed into that. I have to do something now, or I’m going to die.

Can I retrace my route through time? I haven’t made an honest effort because there really isn’t anything back in my time that is worth the risk. What if I try and wind up someplace worse? Suck it up, Boy. You’re going to die if you don’t do something constructive. You’ve tried to bring the kaleidoscope back just after the cat attack, but you were sitting in a tree with the adrenaline up at the time. You have never really tried without the adrenalin in your system, but deep down, you know that you can relax and bring back the colors. You’re just too scared of winding up someplace worse.

Maybe it was something like riding a bicycle or swimming; once learned, never forgotten. But it wasn’t enough to be able to move through time. He had to find his way back. Did where he landed matter? Any reasonably modern society would have antibiotics, but as he looked at his shoulder, he wondered if it were already too late for antibiotics. He needed help, but he hated to go back to those vultures at the hospital. He assumed that he rated the county hospital now, but he didn’t want to take charity. He gasped at the intense pain when he moved and supposed that paying for his hospital care was the least of his worries at the moment.

Laboriously, he turned toward the entrance and the crystal-clear skies beyond. Nothing like that in the twenty-third century. He liked this place. He hadn’t put much effort into trying to leave, with the exception of the time near the river, but he had been too worried about the cat coming back to focus properly. Sure, he could conjure up the colors, but could he actually move through time again? Suddenly he was plethoric with doubt. What if I wind up in the middle of nowhere again? He couldn’t make a bow or hunt for food this time; he wasn’t going to leave his bow, regardless — not that it was any good to him in his condition, but he had worked too long and hard on it to leave it here.

You’re getting weaker by the minute, old boy. If you’re going to do it, it had better be now.

Mack forced himself to his feet. After wrapping a chunk of the meat in a piece of skin, he made sure his lighter and knife were in his pockets, and shaking with fatigue, slumped back against the wall, out of breath. After putting the meat in his lap, along with his quiver of arrows, then leaning the bow against himself, he started the relaxation exercises.

Startling with its suddenness, the kaleidoscope was upon him before he had drawn his second breath. The colors seemed more vivid, more distinct than they were before. With confidence, he chose the green thread he had used previously and looked back in the direction he knew he had come. This time he knew he wasn’t dreaming, and it helped. He could feel his body and was vaguely aware of his surroundings. After taking a firm grip on his bow, he willed the thread to move. He immediately realized that his weakness would be a factor; much more effort was required to start the thread moving, but he pushed harder and concentrated on increasing his speed.

After what seemed like many hours due to his waning strength, he had slowed to a small percentage of his initial speed. Then ahead, he could sense that ... curtain that he had come through before. He wondered what it was that had caused the tingling sensation the first time he had passed through the shimmering. As he cautiously approached, he slowed even more, wondering what prevented him from seeing the thread beyond. He remembered the sensation of a waterfall as he pushed into the mist, only to come to an abrupt halt. It had been almost as if he had hit a wall. Confused and weak, he saw bright sunshine and the surrounding countryside shimmer around him as he willed himself in the opposite direction on the thread. After a short distance, he again reversed direction, this time pushing with all his depleted strength, and desperate to get through the curtain, he gained speed. If he didn’t manage to go through the curtain now, he never would. There was a wrenching sensation, a fleeting taste of utter cold, and he was through. He clung desperately to the thread as he tried to maintain his push, but there was no more strength left. Suddenly, he could no longer see the thread, but instead, flashes and a blur of scenery until he hit something with a jar. As his body tumbled, a scream tore its way from his throat with the pain that welled up from his shoulder. As consciousness faded, a part of his mind, overwhelmed with fatigue, kept insisting that he could not have been moving physically. Then why had it felt like he had hit something? He couldn’t conjure up enough energy to care; his body demanded rest. He tried to keep his eyes open, but a grayness settled about him. Then ... nothing.

Near one million BC.

Finally sleepy, Kathy lay on her air mattress and gave in to slumber. Just as she began to lose consciousness, Thad snapped awake, grabbed his rifle and slung it over his shoulder by the strap.

Wake up, Kathy. Feel that? That’s the chamber’s warning. They’re going to move us. Get your gun belt on and help me pack up anything that’s not already in our packs.

Kathy stumbled groggily to her feet and swung the gun belt around her. “How much time do we have?”

“Who knows? It depends on how much power Kessler wants to ‘squander’ by holding the chamber for us. You can bet he won’t wait long.”

Thad stuffed things into his pack as Kathy hastily buckled her belt. She had just dumped the water out of one of the pots when the tingling intensified, and the air shimmered around them. She heard Thad curse as she bumped her knee on a rock. But there shouldn’t be a rock that big inside their cave, and it was suddenly brilliant daylight. Then she understood. The chamber had moved them. The cave was gone, and they were standing on a boulder-strewn hillside. She had bumped her knee on a wall of rocks that was the result of a long-ago landslide from the hill above.

The abrupt shift to full sunlight had been startling with its intensity, and it took a second for her eyes to adjust. The heavy forest cover was gone. It must be around noon, she thought, as she shaded her eyes from the almost-overhead sun. They stood at the base of a large hill with mountains in the background. Scattered trees gradually became more numerous until, about a kilometer on into the valley, the forest eventually became predominant. The terrain here was rugged and full of boulders. She rubbed her shin as it dawned on her that she hadn’t been sick this time. She had dreaded the shift for fear she would have to go through the nausea again, but this time she hadn’t felt a thing. She wondered if the much longer first trip could have been a factor and started to ask Thad, but thought better of the idea at the last moment. She wasn’t going to let him know that she didn’t have such basic information. Any real Op would know from experience.

Thad stood, rifle in hand, looking about them. “I don’t see anything.”

“Anything?” she asked, puzzled.

“Our time Traveler. The Others. Whatever went down-time and through the barrier,” he said, still scanning the area around them.

She mentally kicked herself. Thankfully, Thad hadn’t seemed to notice that she hadn’t even remembered why they had been moved. She had been so proud of herself for not throwing up that she had completely forgotten why they were here. Trying to make up for her laxity, she commented, “Maybe the Traveler or whatever is hidden from our view by all these boulders.”

“Must be. If the computer dropped us here, then what we’re chasing must be here too. Get your gun out, just in case. Stay here and remain alert while I check the area,” he ordered as he started around the nearest jumble of boulders. He hadn’t gone more than twenty meters when he abruptly stopped and yelled, “Kathy, come here.”

It only took a minute or so for her to make her way around the boulders to find Thad bent over next to something on the ground. Someone, she corrected herself, as she realized that a man was lying there.

“Where did he come from?” she asked inanely.

“He’s the only person around, so he must be our Traveler. They wouldn’t have moved us unless the Traveler came back up-time, so he has to be what we’re looking for.”

“But what’s wrong with him?” she asked, looking at the bedraggled figure covered with dirt and blood sprawled at her feet.

“I don’t know. Not the usual attire for your well-dressed time traveler, either; no shirt, just pants and boots,” he said, rolling the prostrate figure over to reveal a blood-covered face. “Whew, this guy’s a mess,” he added, rocking back on his heels. “I wonder what he tangled with?” Thad leaned forward to get a better look at a wide piece of rawhide tied around the man’s left upper arm. On impulse, he untied the strip and let the piece of hide fall away to reveal a bloated wound that leaked pus and blood. He whistled through his teeth as Kathy sucked in her breath.