Voyages In Time
Written by J.P. Caruthers
Voyages In Time
Copyright © by J.P. Caruthers, 2009
All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition 1.3, July 2010
www.allmyfiction.com
This book is a fictional work; any likeness to events or individuals is entirely coincidental.
Colin – Lord Of Time
Colin sat on the school tour bus as it trundled through the Italian country side. His teacher Mrs. Done stood at the front of the bus talking on the microphone.
On and on she droned, talking about sculptures and paintings, Leonardo this, Michelangelo that. He felt his eyes beginning to droop as her hypnotic voice lulled his already tired brain to sleep. It was hardly surprising he felt tired; no one had gotten much rest the night before, the boys had been too busy playing practical jokes on each other to be bothered with sleep.
Colin was enjoying the trip immensely, it had been organized as part of art classes, and while Colin was not particularly interested in old dead painters he did rather like the idea of being away from home for two weeks. While he sat in a stupor drooling down his collar, the coach continued rolling its way through the countryside towards Anchiano, which is about two miles from the town of Vinci.
He awoke as the coach pulled to a shuddering stop and yawning, he looked out of the window and wiped his chin on his sleeve. Outside he could see they were in a car park, close to a large stone building.
The building was built out of large yellow sandstone blocks, and the roof covered with lines of red terracotta tiles. Surrounding the house was a large colorful garden with sand pathways radiating in all directions. Some of the paths were bordered by trees, other paths led to interesting ornate ponds and water features.
Mrs. Done picked up the microphone. “Alright” she bellowed, “let’s have some order. I want everyone off the bus and formed into a line.” The kids scrambled and pushed to be the first off, but Colin waited in his seat for the throng to disperse. As the last kid passed him he got up and followed off the bus at a leisurely pace.
The sun was blazing down and the air was stifling. Waves of heat shimmered over the tarmac of the car park forming mirages of cool pools of water.
Colin joined the rear of the queue. “Come on, no dawdling” said Mrs. Done, “Lets get inside before we all shrivel up in the heat.”
The line of children snaked across to the gates of the garden, and then made its way up the path towards the house, sniggering and bickering as it went.
Inside the building the air was cool and a pleasant breeze blew in through the open French windows ruffling Colin’s sweaty hair. Onwards marched Mrs. Done, leading the tour with military precision, but when her back was turned most of the kids split to investigate the gardens in groups of two or three.
As usual Colin had been stood daydreaming, and suddenly found himself on his own in the foyer. Glancing around, he spotted the signs pointing to different areas of the house and wandered across the foyer and in through an open door that led to the dining room. It was a large room which was empty apart from a long walnut table. The floor was made from interlocking pieces of dark and light wood that produced interesting patterns under the dazzling sunlight that shone in through the windows.
On the wall at the far end of the room was a large gold framed painting of a man standing in that same dining room. Colin looked closely at the man’s strange appearance, he had long dark brown hair and a short neatly cropped beard. He wore tight fitting black trousers and a black shirt. Wrapped around him was a black cloak with gold embroidery.
The man had a stern expression on his face that gave him a look of authority, but Colin could see from the laughter lines painted around his eyes that he liked a good joke.
Without reading the plaque next to the painting he wandered away into the next room. Why was Mrs. Done so excited he wondered, this house looked just like every other that they had visited over the last week.
Finding himself back in the foyer again he looked at some of the other signs. The sign pointing up the stairs was labeled Second and Third Floor. Colin sighed; it was too hot to go outside so he made his way up the stairs to the second floor.
On the second floor landing there were signs pointing to various rooms, but the one that caught his eye pointed up the next flight of stairs and was labeled Laboratory. Images of Frankenstein monsters flitted through his mind and with interest aroused he headed up the next flight of stairs.
At the top of the stairs there was a wide doorway, and entering the room beyond, Colin found himself in the attic room. The velvet carpeted room stretched the length and width of the house, and with the rows of joists supporting the roof, it looked like the inside of an old pirate galleon.
Littered around the room on wooden stands were strange looking machines of various sizes ranging from objects that could fit in your pockets, to objects so big it would take a number of men to lift them.
He walked round the interesting exhibits. Some of them he recognized and others he had to read the plaque which described the gadget.
One of the objects was a giant machine made from paper and wood. It looked like a drilling machine with a large screw on top, and according to the plaque it was a design for a helicopter, but Colin wasn’t convinced.
Another item that caught his interest was a gadget called a Cryptex. It was the size of a spaghetti jar, and the outside of the tube was made from rotating rings labeled with letters. It looked like a giant combination lock.
In the center of the room Colin noticed people milling around another odd construction, so he wandered across to it for a closer look at the curious looking machine.
Next to the plaque which said Unknown Machine, was a pile of pamphlets which contained a nice plan of the working mechanism. He took one, and folding it up he placed it in his pocket.
Looking at the machine he could see it had a central vertical shaft, and radiating from this shaft were four metal rods. Suspended from the end of each rod was a large brass metal ball, and running the length of each rod were coils of thick copper wire.
Around the periphery of the machines stood four plates of polished brass inlayed with slabs of black obsidian marble. The plates stood four feet high and were curved round the circumference of the mechanism. The plates were also linked to the center shaft by thick braided copper cables.
Colin stood for sometime gazing at the shiny machine wondering at its purpose, then when he looked around the room, he saw that apart from an attendant he was now alone.
“Excuse me,” said Colin to the attendant, “can you tell me what this machine does?”
“Well no ones sure son,” replied the uniformed attendant with a foreign accent. “We just had this replica built from the original plans. Its motorized and next week we’re going to turn it on and see if it does anything. It probably won’t but it sure does look nice.”
The attendant took a quick look round then said, “look kid, I’m bursting for a trip to the bathroom. I’ll not be gone more than five minutes. Could you watch the place while I’m gone?”
“Sure,” said Colin watching the retreating figure of the attendant as he headed for the toilets.
‘Motorized?’ Thought Colin to himself, ‘that sounds interesting.’ He walked around the machine looking for a control mechanism, then he spotted a large glowing red switch on the base of the machine. He was going home at the end of next week so he wouldn’t see the machine working. Missing out on seeing it in action seemed grossly unfair, and that button looked so tempting. ‘No one’s around,’ he thought to himself, ‘why not a quick test. It wouldn’t cause any harm, how could it?’
Next to the button was a sign that read, Push Once Thirty Second Run, Push Again For Emergency Stop.
Thirty seconds, there’s plenty of time before the man returns, he thought to himself, if any one comes I can always press stop. With that thought in his mind he hit the big red button with his thumb.
The central spindle began to turn, and the machine started to gather speed. Colin could hear the whine of the heavy electric motor, and the strange crackling and humming that came from the copper coils as the balls started to glow with a faint blue light.
The machines spinning center turned into a blur, and Colin watched horrified as the floor began to ripple and vibrate. The thick red carpet started to shimmer and flow like a pool of water, and small waves rippled away across the room. He felt sick with panic just looking at it.
Struggling against a strange force that seemed to hold him where he stood, he tried to move towards the exit. His feet seemed glued to the carpet, and as he lifted them it The floor seemed to lift and stretch like red cinnamon bubble gum.
The carpet began to move as the floor around him took on the shape of the inside of a funnel. He screamed as he realized his feet were sinking. Then the carpet was around his knees, and then it rose to his waist. He felt himself sliding deeper and deeper into the center and tried to pull himself free but it was like quick sand.
He sank up to his chest and choked in panic as he tried to grab hold of the base of a nearby exhibit. Like a drowning man he reached out in vane, but his fingers sank through the exhibits base like it was made of treacle. Now he was up to his neck, and he took a breath as he was pulled under.
For a brief moment Colin had the sensation of falling, then with an unexpected and painful thud he landed on a cold hard surface. His head struck something hard with a crack, and his vision exploded with bright light as everything went black.
Colin awoke cold and aching all over, someone was shaking him, “what time is it,” he asked.
“Ha English, wake up boy,” said a voice with a strange accent,” there’s no sleeping on my floor.” His poor head felt like it was being crushed in a vice, and when he opened his eyes he found himself laying face down on a stone floor.
He tried to get up but the room spun crazily. The blurred figure bending over him said “hold on there young sir, it looks like you’ve taken a hard knock to the head.”
Colin felt two arms gently pick him up and he was carried carefully down the room and set down on a soft couch. He shut his eyes, the spinning of the room made him feel sick to his stomach. The bright light made his throbbing head pound even harder.
“Wait right there we will get you a cold compress for that bump. I hope you’ve not cracked your crown with that fall.” There was a ringing sound of a bell, foot steps came running and a door opened.
“Vai fetch una scodella di acqua fredda e un panno, e invia per l’erborista in una volta. Il giovane è caduta sulla sua testa, egli si presenta piuttosto uno stato di malessere “
(Fetch a bowl of cold water and a cloth, and send for the herbalist at once. The young man has fallen on his head, he looks a quite unwell.) said the voice.
“Si Master, in una volta” (Yes master, at once) replied another voice. A door closed and he heard the footsteps walking away hurriedly, and then he passed gently into unconsciousness again.
Colin awoke in bed feeling better. His head ache had gone away and the cool breeze on his cheek was refreshing. Through the open window he could hear the birds singing close by, maybe it had all been a bad dream.
He opened his eyes expecting to see his hotel room, but much to his shock and surprise he found him self lying in a large four poster bed. The bed stood in the middle of a sparsely furnished stone room, and the walls were covered with decorated cloth hangings. At the bottom of the bed sat in a large comfortable chair was a strange man that looked oddly familiar. He had long dark brown hair and a short neatly cropped beard; he wore tight fitting black trouser and a black shirt, and wrapped around him was a black cloak with gold embroidery.
The man’s eyes were closed and he was snoring loudly, then as if he knew he was being watched he awoke. Rubbing his eyes and yawning he looked at Colin, “Ah young master you are awake, Brother Marcel has worked him magic again, if you feel able perhaps some breakfast before a walk in the garden?” Colin nodded, breakfast sounded good, he was famished.
He climbed out of bed and followed the man into a comfortable living room. The windows were open and bright sunshine lit up the room. The walls were covered with fabrics and paintings, and in the middle of the room lay a large rug on which stood a small table with two chairs.
The man sat down in one of the chairs and gestured for Colin to sit in the other. “Let us eat,” he said reaching over and removed the lids on various ornately decorated silver containers.
Colin didn’t need a second invitation and tucked into the thick bacon and crispy rolls ferociously. After a cup of fresh orange juice and some grapes Colin felt much better for the meal, and despite the large lump on his head he was in good spirits. He had been expecting to be in the hotel or hospital, and while he was slightly puzzled as to how he came to be in this strange mans house, the man seemed friendly and strangely familiar.
“I was thinking I might venture into the garden for a stroll, said the man, “Would you care to accompany me.” Colin nodded and the pair got up from the table, and they walked out through the open French windows into the garden. They walked along the gravel path for a while in silence, each waiting for the other to start the conversation. Desperately inquisitive Colin broke the silence first, My names Colin Forsythe, would it be rude of me to ask who you are mister?
“I’m delighted to meet you Colin” said the man warmly, “It’s not at all rude of you to ask the name of your host, my name is Leonardo.”
“Well I’m sorry for crashing in on you like that Mr. Leonardo,” said Colin apologetically.
Leonardo smiled, “Well I have to say, I was somewhat surprised to see you fall through a solid stone ceiling but crash into a floor. After all, one man’s ceiling is another man’s floor.”
“I don’t know,” said Colin, “it all happened so quickly. One moment I was stood upstairs, and the next I fell through the floor and smacked into the floor below.”
“Strange in deed,” agreed Leonardo, “my assistant was upstairs in the laboratory but saw nothing of you. It is as though you appeared from thin air.”
“Have you seen my teacher?” asked Colin, “she might be looking for me, I’ll get into trouble.”
“No I’m sorry,” replied Leonardo, “I’ve not seen anyone.”
Colin pulled his mobile phone from his pocket. It was one of the newer ones with a camera and a large color screen. He selected his teachers number but the phone refused to call because there was no signal. May I use your telephone please?” asked Colin, “my mobiles got no signal.”
“Telephone?” said Leonardo, “What is telephone, it is not a word I am familiar with”.
From the expression on Leonardo’s face Colin could see that he had never seen a mobile phone or heard of a telephone. He flipped open his mobile and took a picture of Leonardo with the camera. He passed the phone to Leonardo and laughed as his mouth dropped open in amazement. “That’s not all,“ said Colin as he reached over setting the phone camera into video mode.
Leonardo’s eyes bulged as he pointed the phone at Colin, then he pointed it at the sky and the garden. “This is wonderful,” he said, “never have I seen a device such as this.”
Colin reached over and set the phone into playback mode. Leonardo gasped as he saw the image. “How is this done” he demanded to know.
“I don’t really know,” Colin replied shrugging, “it’s done with microchips, LCD and plastic, whatever they are. They sell them in the shops.”
“I have not heard of these things you speak of,” said Leonardo scratching his forehead, “and I pride myself on finding out about all the latest developments.”
“Ah, I have thought of something, do you have a coin?” he asked with a gleam in his eye.
Colin routed through the change in his pocket and dropped a shiny new 2008 minted coin into Leonardo’s outstretched hand.
“Of course,” exclaimed Leonardo inspecting the coin, “this explains your sudden appearance.”
“It does?” replied Colin who by now was completely lost.
Leonardo took a coin from his own pocket and gave it to Colin. He looked at the dates and looked up at Leonardo with wide eyes.
“Here it is the year of our lord 1475,” said Leonardo, “but not for you I think. From the look of your clothes and your strange possessions you have traveled far.”
“The machine,” Colin groaned, “I shouldn’t have messed with the machine!”
“What machine is this” asked Leonardo with interest.
“In the future I saw a painting of you looking just the same as you do now,” said Colin.
“I haven’t finished painting that yet,” replied Leonardo with a laugh.
“I think the machine was built by you Mr. DaVinci,” replied Colin, “your very famous you know.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” said Leonardo with a smile,” now tell me more about this machine.”
“Here’s a picture of it,” replied Colin pulling the pamphlet from his pocket.
“That’s strange indeed,” said Leonardo as he looked at the plans for the machine, “I have invented many things but this machine is not one of my designs.”
Colin felt tears welling up in his eyes, “does this mean I’m going to be here forever?”
“Come now, don’t worry so,” said Leonardo putting a consolatory arm around Colin’s shoulders, “we will go now and make plans. I think we need to get you home before the church hears of your arrival. They can be a little odd about things they don’t understand.”
They strolled back to the house, Leonardo intently studying the diagram of the machine. When they reached the house Colin followed Leonardo who was deep in thought, up to the laboratory
In the attic laboratory they found the assistant hard at work. He was just finishing the cryptex, which Colin recognized immediately. The proud assistant presented it to Leonardo who nodded approvingly, “you know what this is?” he asked Colin.
“Yes I saw it on a display, can you show me how it works,” replied Colin with interest. Leonardo rotated the rings until the letters read, ‘antipasto’. There was a click, and Leonardo pulled the end from the tube like cryptex. “That’s great,” said Colin, “it’s like a safe.”
Leonardo smiled as it pleased him that Colin liked it. The thought that people in 600 years would still recognize his work was the greatest compliment a man could wish for.
With enthusiasm he opened the pamphlet and showed the plan for the machine to the assistant. With a lot of head scratching he and the assistant discussed the design in Italian. It took some time, but after a lengthy discussion the assistant scurried off.
“It is arranged,” said Leonardo, “Manuel will have the parts ready by the end of the day.”
“How can you build that huge machine in an afternoon,” said Colin amazed.
“Well I would like to say I work hard,” replied Leonardo grinning broadly, “but truthfully I own an extensive workshop in Vinci with many craftsmen and sculptors.”
That afternoon Colin and Leonardo stayed in the laboratory, Leonardo spent the time copying the pamphlet into a large book containing many of the designs for his ingenious inventions.
Colin occupied himself playing with the models of these designs, and asking question after question. When asked why he had so many questions Colin explained how despite having Leonardo’s design book there were a lot of things people wished they could ask, so to make up for it he was determined to ask every question he could think of. Despite the embarrassment Leonardo gladly answered his many questions without needing to look up from his work.
Late in the afternoon Colin heard a commotion coming from the courtyard below. He leaned out of the window and could see a cart drawn up next to the front door. It was heavily laden with packages and bundles, and accompanied by a group of large men.
His curiosity got the better of him and he was about to run down stairs when Leonardo hearing the commotion looked up from his work. “Be patient young master, they will carry the parts into the laboratory and you shall watch it being assembled.”
Colin watched impatiently as the heavy packages were bought up the stairs and into the lab with much straining and heaving, ‘this will take forever’, he thought to himself.
The clock downstairs chimed and as if synchronized, Colin’s stomach growled loudly. He looked at his wrist, “its five O’clock, maybe we should stop for food?”
“Ah yes,” agreed Leonardo, “I make a poor host neglecting the needs of my guest.”
Colin laughed, “You just forget about eating, that’s why you’re so thin.”
Laying down his pencil, Leonardo got up from his desk. Passing the plans he had been working on to Marcel he said,
“Marcel, posso lasciare l’Assemblea nelle vostre fidato mani” (Marcel, I can leave the assembly in your trusted hands?)
“Sì di Corso Master,” (Yes of course master) replied Marcel enthusiastically, “Mi accerterò che tutto è come lei richiede” (I will see that everything is as you require).
Down in the dining room the cook had prepared salads, cold meats and fresh bread. Normally Colin would have turned up his nose at greens, but he thought it wouldn’t be polite so he ate everything on his plate before tucking into fresh fruit picked from the garden.
While they sat waiting for their food to go down Leonardo asked to see Colin’s wrist watch. It was a cheap digital one bought from the supermarket, but to Leonardo it seemed fascinating. He was even more astounded when Colin explained that it had no mechanical moving parts. Fortunately a paradox was only narrowly avoided by Colin being unable to explain how the watch really worked.
They went upstairs to the laboratory to see how Manuel was getting on with the machines assembly. The machine sat ready but instead of being in the center of the room, it was close to one end.
“It’s in the wrong place,” said Colin, “it was in the middle of the room.”
“Yes I know,” said Leonardo with a knowing smile, “but I though maybe this time you would care for a softer landing? Maybe you should inspect your chariot before we send you on your way.”
Colin walked around the machine and examined it. Instead of the brass balls, flat brass plates hung in their place. On the outside the brass plates with the obsidian inlay had been replaced with the four large brass balls.
“Its different to the other machine,” said Colin, “Do you think it will still work”
Leonardo tapped his nose knowingly, “your right it’s not the same, it’s an exact mirror image. Hopefully it will work in reverse and send you forwards in time. I would not wish you to fall further back in time; this house is only one hundred years old and it’s a long fall to the ground floor, you would break your neck”.
“How are you going to make the machine spin?” asked Colin, “you don’t have any electricity?”
Leonardo tapped his head knowingly, “my learned friend at the University of Madrid discovered a scroll from the ancient Panthion’s describing a device capable of generating energy using a solution of vinegar with copper metal. After some experimentation I have perfected lead metal and an acidic solution made from brimstone and salt acid. I built the device myself.” He proudly pointed at a large one meter by one meter granite box stood in the corner.
“It’s a huge battery, neat!” exclaimed Colin, “I’m pretty sure they haven’t been invented yet.”
“That’s not all,” said Leonardo proudly, “last month I created a device capable of turning the pantheon energy into movement. My assistant has coupled the invention to the shaft of your machine.”
“It’s called an electric motor,” replied Colin grinning, “my teacher was right, you’re pretty smart.”
“Electric, electricus,” replied Leonardo thoughtfully, “that means ‘of amber’ in Latin, what a curious term. Perhaps it refers to the pantheon type energy that develops when amber is rubbed with a cloth.”
While they watched, Leonardo’s assistants made the final preparations and linked the thick copped bars that lay across the floor. These formed a bridge between the battery and the machine.
“The work is complete master,” said Manuel appearing from behind the machine.
Leonardo looked pleased, “excellent; having worked late you may finish, and tomorrow take the day off to be with your good wife. The men have done well, here is a token of my appreciation of their hard work.”
He pulled a handful of gold coins from his pocket and handed Manuel a coin for each of the men. Manuel bowed, and the workmen gave their thanks, took their pay and left.
“Good, we are alone,” said Leonardo turning to Colin, “I dismissed the men as I did not wish them to see you disappear. If word of this invention were to get back to the church, I would have the local padre knocking at my door with a pitchfork.”
“So its time to go then?” asked Colin.
“Yes its time to go,” replied Leonardo.
“I’ve had a fun time and I want to give you this before I go,” said Colin handing his watch to Leonardo, “you can take it apart to see what’s inside.”
Leonardo placed the watch proudly on his wrist, “In return I shall leave you a gift in the future, for you have indeed been a most entertaining guest. Now if you are ready we will start.”
Colin nodded and moved across to the machine. On the floor near the base of the machine was a heavy brass switch.
“Good bye and good luck my friend,” said Leonardo retreating to the safety of the doorway.
Colin pulled the switch, and as the contacts closed a shower of sparks spat across the floor causing him to jump back in fright. The machine began to revolve slowly, and on each turn it got faster and faster until soon it was just a blur of spinning metal. He heard the electric crackle of the machine and as Leonardo shouted, “God be with you,” the wooden floor began to take the familiar jelly like form. Instead of fighting to free himself he allowed himself to be drawn into it, and everything went black as he sank into the floor.
Colin felt himself falling through the air with bright light all around. For a terrifying moment he thought that he was going to crash onto the stone floor again. To his surprise he landed with a bounce on a large bed before rebounding and falling to the carpeted floor with a thud.
Unhurt mostly due to the convenient position of the bed he got to his feet thankful Leonardo had moved the position of the machine to save him from a hard landing.
Two burly attendants came bursting into the room. Smiling and laughing they cheerfully grabbed his arms and dragged him over to a closed door with a sign that said ‘Staff Only.’
One of the men gave a quick knock and a voice said “Come in”. The attendants opened the door and bundled him inside. After sitting him down in a comfortable leather covered chair they stood back out of the way.
The walls of the room were lined with book cases which were filled with files and papers. The museum curator Mr. Huriet was a small wrinkled man in his sixties with grey hair and a large nose. He sat in his creased grey suit inspecting Colin from the other side of a large oak desk, “Mr. Colin Forsythe I presume.”
“Am I in a lot of trouble?” asked Colin.
“Well,” said Mr. Huriet, “Your teacher Mrs. Dune has been worried sick about you and the police have been searching the grounds for your body, but no, you’re not in any trouble with us. It may surprise you to know we’ve been expecting you.”
“Me?” said Colin looking dumbfounded, “why?”
Mr. Huriet knotted his fingers together in excitement, “the master himself left us with a list of instructions advising us to expect your arrival. We have been holding a package for you for the last five hundred years. I myself have waited forty years to see what is in your package, so you must forgive me if I am a little excited. Forty years is a long time to wait for Christmas.”
He opened a draw in his desk and took out an envelope. On the front of the envelope was written in bold writing.
To be collected in person by Colin Forsythe in the summer of the year of our lord two thousand and eight on the 28th day of July at ten past five in the afternoon.
Mr. Huriet handed the envelope to Colin, “If it would not be too much trouble, we would be extremely grateful if you would read the letter out loud.”
Colin broke the wax seal and carefully opened the envelope, after unfolding the paper he started reading.
My dear friend,
I write to you to thank you for the gift of your watch. I have examined its mechanism in detail but am far from understanding its intricate design. I marvel at its complexity and take inspiration from its ingenuity. I carry your gift with me always and think of you often.
I have bequeathed this gift to you to be held in trust until the summer of the year of our lord two thousand and eight. When you return to your time arrangements have been made to deliver it into your hands. The gift is a keepsake to remind you of your visit, I hope it is a gift you will enjoy.
Yours honorably
Leonardo DaVince.
“Gift?” asked Colin, ”what is it?”
Mr. Huriet lifted the wooden box onto the desk. It was two foot wide, two foot long and three inched deep, and its lid was sealed with red wax to make it air tight.
“I have absolutely no idea” replied Mr. Huriet, “it is yours and we were forbidden to open it. We are hoping you will do us the honor of showing us what we have been guarding for all these years.”
Colin broke open the seal and with some difficulty opened the lid. Four heads craned forwards to peer into the velvet lined box. It contained two beautifully painted canvases facing each other. “Unknown paintings by the master himself,” gasped Mr. Huriet as he carefully lifted them out so they could be admired.
The paintings were both similar showing the time machine in the center, and stood one on either side was a man and a boy. The paintings were very lifelike and the figures were instantly recognizable as Colin and Leonardo, and on Leonardo’s left wrist was the digital watch Colin had given him.
“It’s amazing,” said Mr. Huriet, “The conclusive truth you really did meet the master himself.”
“Mr. Huriet,” said Colin, “Are you going to keep the paintings for the house?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” replied Mr. Huriet with a horrified expression on his face. “They were a gift to you so they are yours to do as you please.”
“This is the machine that you have upstairs,” said Colin pointing to one of the portraits, “and this one is the machine used to send me home.”
Picking up the painting of the machine that had returned him home, Colin placed it into the wooden box and closed the lid. The other painting he placed in Mr. Huriet’s hands, “I’d like you hang this in the laboratory with the machine.”
“It would be my greatest pleasure,” said Mr. Huriet beaming happily, “now tell me, what are we going to tell your teacher and the authorities about your unusual absence.”
“You could always tell them I fell on my head,” said Colin grinning. He lifted up his fringe to proudly show the large purple and yellow bruise across the top of his head. “Leonardo asked if you could turn off the machine before anyone else busts their head on his bedroom floor.”
“I’m glad to say the machine has already been disabled,” replied Mr. Huriet. “Leonardo left the plans for the machine, told us when to build it, and it has now fulfilled its purpose and is nothing more than a very pretty ornament. Come now, we must go and tell your teacher the good news of your reappearance.”
Colin enjoyed the rest of day immensely. He had been rushed to hospital and his head x-rayed, fed as much ice cream as he could eat and nurses fussed over him all day. Eventually the doctor arrived to say Colin had nothing more than a bad concussion, and then he was allowed back to rejoin his class mates.
Everyone thought it was great that he had been actually knocked out, it made him an instant hero. After the barrage of questions had died down he settled down in his seat still clutching the letter and the wooden box, he opened the lid and admired the painting.
Mrs. Dune sat down in the empty seat beside him, “what have you got there?” she said looking at the painting with interest.
It’s a painting of me and Leonardo in the laboratory,” replied Colin looking down at the fine detail of the faces.
“That’s a great memento,” said Mrs. Dune, “did you buy it in the museum shop?”
“No miss, it was a gift from Mr. Huriet,” replied Colin. After a moment of silence he said thoughtfully, “it’s not about the paintings is it miss? It’s the story that goes with them.”
“That’s very perceptive Colin,” said Mrs. Dune, “that knock on the head seems to have done you the world of good”.
The coach started to move off, “what’s perceptive mean miss,” Colin said looking puzzled.
Mac’s Media Player
Mac Tompkins was an eleven year old kid, and a small one at that. Today was his first day into the big comprehensive school but he wasn’t looking forwards to it much.
Unfortunately all his mates from his junior school had gone to Hillcrest School on the other side of town. His parents moved house last year and now he was closer to the Genio High School and poor Mac didn’t know anybody.
He knew today wasn’t going to go well when he woke up laid on the floor having fallen out of bed during the night.
It was only going to get worse he decided, when he looked in the bathroom mirror, only to find to his horror that he had the imprint of a star wars blaster rifle on the left side of his face. He must have been asleep on the toy for most of the night.
Mac put on his black school trousers and white shirt, and then with a grimace of disgust he pulled on his snot green jumper and shoved his feet into his uncomfortable new shoes.
He picked up his new school bag with his new school equipment, things like pencils and pens, rubbers and rulers. All the usual stuff you expect in a school bag which is normally lost or broken by the end of the first week of term. Hearing his mum call he hurried off downstairs in search of his breakfast.
In the kitchen Macs mum handed him his packed lunch and sighed as he rammed the sandwich into his school bag, crushing it to the thickness of a pizza. Oblivious to his mum’s efforts, he grabbed a bowl and spoon and helped himself to sugar puffs and milk.
Mac use to get a lift to school with his dad and little sister, but now he had changed schools he was old enough to walk on his own and his new school was only a short distance away.
“You should head off to school, “commented his mum, “you don’t want to be late on your first day.” He groaned and wished he didn’t have to go, the congealed milk and cereal in his stomach started to feel like lead at the prospect of making new friends.
He left the house at eight thirty and made his way slowly along Ramsey Street. As he walked he found himself surrounded by more and more children on their way to School, but looking around he didn’t recognized anyone.
Shouts of greetings passing over his head between other groups, and as they passed through the school gates they merged together into a throng of screaming laughing kids, before diverging again heading for their class rooms.
Mac headed for ‘A’ block which was for years one and two. He had been on visits to the school before they broke up for summer holidays, so fortunately he knew where he was going, and which room was his form room. At the double doors he turned left and followed the corridor to the door at the end.
The door was labeled Class 1B, and from behind the door came an unearthly noise that sounded much like a herd of rampaging rhino’s had been set loose in a china shop. Mac took a deep breath before being shoved through the door by someone behind.
The classroom was a war zone, and as Mac crossed the room to a free desk the air was thick with pieces of scrunched up multicolor paper, biros and the occasional stray pencil. He sat down at the desk and waited for school to start.
Suddenly a boy rushed in to the room shouting, “He’s coming!” then dived behind a desk and sat up straight. The warring factions declared an instant cease fire, and by the time the last piece of paper had hit the ground they were all sitting innocently in the midst of the destruction.
A second later the door opened and a large red faced man in an untidy suit entered. After putting down his brief case on the big desk the man surveyed the devastation. “Well,” he said, “I can see someone’s been having fun.”
The other children turned round and together they all pointed at Mac and said in one voice, “It was him sir, he was throwing paper sir.”
“Well,” said the man looking at Mac, “since it’s a majority vote I guess you are going to have to tidy this mess up, come on, we don’t have all day.”
Poor Mac was horrified, but what could he say? There didn’t even seem any point in arguing, with twenty six witnesses that said the mess was all his doing. Almost in tears he bent down and started picking up the paper scraps from the floor. The man smiled at him and said, “You must be the new boy Macenzie. Don’t worry about them, they do this trick on all the new kids, just pick up the paper for me your not in any trouble.”
Mac felt a rush of relief, the man was obviously his new teacher who was well aware of the joke being played, “everyone calls me Mac, sir.”
“Okay Mac,” replied the teacher, “and my name is Mr. Jones but everyone calls me sir.”
Mac returned to his seat after picking up the crumpled paper from the floor. His face was crimson with embarrassment as all around him he could hear whispers and sniggering. Mr. Jones started taking the register, “Miss Compton?”
“Yes sir.”
“Mr. Hiller?”
“Yes sir.”
“Mr. Tompkins?”
Then a voice piped up at the back, “Mr. Pumpkins here sir, you want to watch him, he’s awful messy sir.”
Encouraged, another voice piped up, “yes, and he don’t flush the bog sir, I saw him, disgusting sir.”
If a person could be described as blushing with the fire of the midday sun, it would be Mac. Today was turning from a bad dream into a nightmare.
At that moment Mr. Jones slammed down the register on the table and roared across the classroom, “Jenks that’s ENOUGH!”
And from the other side of the room came a rather subdued reply, “sorry sir.” The voices behind whispered menacingly “Teachers pet!” So Mac buried his head in his arms and hoped the day would improve. Surely it couldn’t get much worse, but surely enough it did.
In the lesson before dinner someone threw a rolled up piece of paper at the English teacher. Thanks to Jenks, Mac got the blame and the teacher made him stay behind so that he missed his dinner break. After lunch was PE; Mac loved playing football but he was left sat on the bench as there were an odd number of children and neither team wanted to pick him to play.
When it was time for afternoon break he followed the other kids out into the big central school yard. It was a large tarmac area with some raised flower beds containing prickly bushes.
On the floor pitches for football and basket ball were marked out with white lines. Mac turned to the boy next to him and asked, “Can we play football?”
“Can’t,” said the boy, “Ever since Jenks broke the head masters office window balls have been banned from the yard.” At that moment Jenks barged past grabbing Mac’s rucksack, and charged off across the yard shouting “football,” and then drop kicked the bag to another boy.
Mac ran after his new bag desperately, but as he ran towards the person holding his bag they threw it to someone else. It took a good five minutes for him to catch up with his escaping property, and even then he had to wrestle it out of the hands of one of the older kids.
He retreated back across the playground and was standing next to one of the raised flower beds checking the contents of his bag when Jenks suddenly crashed into him shouting, “Tag you’re it pumpkins.”
Mac fell backwards into the flowerbed landing painfully in a large prickly bush. With his scratched face and his new jumper torn at the sleeve, he was relieved to hear the bell go for the end of break.
At three o’clock Mac was looking forwards to going home, the day had been awful and he just couldn’t wait to get away from the school. He was just exiting the main gate when behind him he heard the unmistakable voice of Jenks shout, “there’s the new kid, let’s get im.”
Mac knew what would come next so he took to his heels and ran as fast as he could, and didn’t stop running until he had passed the red post box on Ramsey Street.
He arrived home at number 14, and as usual there was no car parked outside. Mum and dad were still at work so he pulled his key from its secret pocket and opened the front door. He stepped inside and reached over quickly typing in the key number on the glowing keypad to silence the squawking burglar alarm. With the house in glorious silence, he breathed a sigh of relief that the day was over.
On the door mat among a collection bills and junk mail lay a grey plastic bag which he knew contained his monthly magazine ‘Pterodactyl Raiders.’ Grabbing it he headed up the stairs to his bedroom to read it before sister could get hold of it and tear the best pages out. Plenty of time to do homework later he thought to himself.
In his bedroom he threw his bag into the corner and turned on his TV and computer. He leaped across the room like a ninja and bounced onto the bed with a crash. Ripping open the grey plastic bag, he pulled out the crisp magazine and started to read.
This weeks edition was a disappointment. The comic strips were the same plot as last weeks magazine, and the poster was of a placid looking diplodocus instead off the promised evil enemy of the cavemen, the deadly velociraptor.
Mac soon reached the last pages which contained adverts for toys and stickers that you can send away for. On the last page his eye was caught by an advert emblazoned with the words “FREE TRIAL,” and a picture of a small square device.
The device looked quite ordinary and uninteresting. It was white and appeared to be made from a shiny porcelain material rather like the plates and cups your granny has. Along the edge of the device were a number of buttons similar to the type you would find on a CD player.
In the small text underneath the picture it said that there was only one device available for trial, and one lucky deserving reader would get to try it. All Mac had to do was fill in his name and address on the enclosed postcard, and return it free post to the manufacturer.
Since the postcard was free post Mac didn’t need a stamp, all he had to do was put it in a post box then hope for the best. It was 4:30PM, the last post was due to be collected at 5:00PM so he picked up a pen from his desk and quickly filled in his details.
Grabbing his jacket and some coins from the desk he headed out of his room and down the stairs. At the bottom he met his dad coming in from work. “Hi Mac” said his dad, “Were are you off to in such a hurry?”
“I’m off to the corner shop to buy some sweets,” replied Mac, “I’ll be only a few minutes.”
“Okay,” said his dad, “but make sure you don’t eat them all on the way home, I’m starting to cook tea now.”
“I promise,” said Mac with his fingers crossed as he shut the front door on the way out.
Turning right onto Ramsey Street Mac headed towards Braidy’s corner shop, but after a hundred yards or so stopped at the red post box and posted the card.
Braidy’s corner shop had a famously large selection of pick and mix. Their clear plastic containers held everything from fizzy snakes to chocolate buttons. It took some time for Mac to make up his mind, but after a while he’d filled a bag with cola bottles and chocolate white mice.
Standing in line behind old Mrs. Hopkins required a lot of patience. As usual she was buying a loaf of bread and a carton of milk, and as usual the old lady was having trouble taking the coins from her purse.
Her hands were all bent from arthritis, and while attempting to count the correct change from her purse, she dropped change all over the floor.
Mac being a helpful kid immediately went down on his hands and knees and retrieved all the stray coins, and placed them on the counter for the shop assistant to count.
The shop assistant smiled at him as she counted Mrs. Hopkins’s money and placed the change in the till. The old lady thanked Mac, “you’re always such a helpful boy, and it’s too long for you to wait for your reward in heaven,” said the nice old lady as she pressed a coin into Mac’s hand, “so here’s some pocket money.” Before he could refuse she waved as she tottered unsteadily out of the shop.
Pleased with his new found wealth he paid for his sweets and headed back down Ramsey Street. He was only fifty yards from his house when he saw the post van draw up at the curb. The man got out and posted a small parcel through the front door before hurrying away on his deliveries.
Curious to see what had arrived he ran the last few yard, but as he rushed in to the house he gave Mr. Tompkins a hard clout with the front door as he was bending down to pick up the package from the doormat.
“OUCH,” said Mac’s dad, “watch what you’re doing.”
“Sorry dad,” replied Mac sheepishly, “I didn’t know you were there.”
“At least no bones were broken,” replied Mr. Tompkins passing Mac a small parcel, “this just came for you.” And then he walked away into the living room absent mindedly rubbing the sore bit on the top of his head
Mac looked at the plain cardboard box in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting any packages; perhaps it was a free gift from the cereal box company his mother had sent for. So he stuffed the mystery package in his pocket and went up stairs to his room.
With the door firmly shut behind him, he took his sweets and the package from his pocket and dropped them into the secret draw of his desk. Hearing his father call tea time, he kicked off his uniform and dragged on his favorite T shirt and track suit bottoms. Forgetting about the package, he bounced out of his room and headed down the stairs following the delicious aroma of spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread.
Mac picked up his plate and went into the living room to join his mum, dad and sister who were sitting down to watch the latest Dr Who episode on the television. As usual they ate in silence; their eyes glued to the program. Macs fork spent most of the time poised mid way between his plate and his mouth resulting in a regular prod from his dad. “Eat son, its growing mold,” Dad commented, “it’s a good thing programs have breaks in, or else you’d starve to death.”
“Dad,” said Mac, “I don’t like my new school, the kids are all horrible.”
“Give it till the end of the week,” replied his Dad with a sigh,” we’ll see about transferring you to the other school if you hate it that much.”
After, tea Mac headed up stairs to bed, and it wasn’t until after he had cleaned his teeth that he remembered the package. Back in his room he opened the draw to his desk and pulled out the package. Ripping it open he discovered it contained a small box and a typed letter saying, “Congratulation’s Mac Tompkins, you have been selected to try out our latest product the all new ‘Life Media Player.’ We hope you enjoy using this product as much as we enjoyed creating it.”
An adult would have been curious about the amazing express delivery service, but Mac was too distracted looking at the box to ask questions. Printed on the glossy outside was the legend ‘Life Media Player, able to pause, rewind, and fast forwards life media.’
Mac had absolutely no idea what life media was, but unperturbed he opened the box carefully and shook out the contents.
On the palm of his hand sat the white polished ceramic square and a folded sheet of paper. He turned over the smooth cold object and was surprised to see it had no display, sockets or any other kind of concealed compartment.
As he gripped the player in his hand it seemed to glow, and he felt it start to radiate heat. Symbols Mac instantly recognized started to glow along one edge with a cold blue light, symbols that were identical to the ones on the DVD player down-stairs, symbols for reverse and pause, play and fast forwards.
Mac placed the player on the desk and unfolded the paper to see if it contained any useful instructions. Unfortunately he was to be disappointed, written in big words across the top of the page it read, ‘Please read before use’.
This device is a highly sophisticated quantum computer capable of manipulating the very structure of the universe. Please use it carefully! Reconstructing the universe has been a slow and expensive process that we would wish not to repeat on a daily basis.
Yours Sincerely
Darclamatese Tregosa 13/09/7813.
Yawning, Mac screwed up the paper and threw it into the corner of the room to join other castoff rubbish that had not quite made it as far as the bin. He put on his pajamas, and without bothering to wash his face he switched off the light and climbed into bed. Within a minute he was fast asleep, snoring and dribbling on his pillow.
The following day Mac woke up still in his bed, which he decided could only be a good omen. He dressed in his uniform and picked up his bag, but as he was leaving his hand strayed to the desk and picked up the media player. Without him noticing his hand sneakily slipped the polished square into his pocket.
Not wishing for another encounter with Jenks, Mac deliberately arrived late to school. With perfect timing he entered his classroom just after the teacher so that he couldn’t be accused of any bad behavior. At break time he snuck off and hid in the toilets where Jenks couldn’t find him. If no one could find him they couldn’t make fun of him, steal his bag, or push him over.
Unfortunately Mac knew there would be no avoiding Jenks and his friends at lunch time, so with a heavy heart he made his way to the dining hall. When Mac entered the big hall, dinner hour was already under full swing. The huge room was packed with kids of every shape and size, most of whom were jumping around and shouting at each other, flicking food and leaping over chairs.
The noise was horrendous; it felt to Mac some like he imagined it must be like, to have a large pan on your head and someone bashing on it with a mallet.
Most of the tables were full, but in the middle of the hall were plenty of free spaces at a table occupied by his classmates. ‘Well,’ thought Mac to himself, ‘I might as well get to know a few people.’ With the skill of a professional football player he made his way towards the table through the minefield of out stretched feet and bag handle snares.
He made it to the bench and sat down just in time for the stage show. Jenks suddenly decided lunch was far too dull and needed livening up; it was time to show off his ‘moves’ as he put it. Leaping onto the table Jenks started gyrating while sticking out his posterior and burst into a loud rendition of the song, “I like big butts and I cannot lie.”
For no particular reason Mac felt an overriding urge to put his hand in his pocket. He felt the player’s silky smooth surface, and inexplicably his thumb was drawn to one point on its surface. With no force at all, Mac felt its surface yielded under his thumb as he pressed one of the concealed buttons.
Instantly there was silence, not a sound could be heard. Mac looked around completely gob smacked as he saw the unbelievable spectacle before him. Everyone had stopped, frozen like statues. Stopped in the exact position they had been as he pressed the button, forks poised, trays balanced, food ladles suspended. Flying objects that were en route towards their unfortunate target were suspended mid air as if by magic. Even stranger, the eerie sensation of complete silence tickled the back of Macs neck, creating an involuntary shiver that ran down his back.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the player. On its smooth edge he could see that instead of being its usual cool blue, the pause symbol was now emitting a pulsing red light. Grinning broadly he suddenly understood the meaning of the phrase ‘Life Player,’ the pause button on the player had done exactly what it said, it had paused life playing.
Mac’s guess was quite close to the truth. The player had paused the entire universe with the exception of Mac, who was of course holding the device at the time. Although he probably wouldn’t have understood the explanation Mac would have had to look thousands of years into the future to find the only person who could explain how this miracle of technology worked.
Sometime in the year seven thousand eight hundred and one, Darclamatese Tregosa had realized there was only one time line. Everything that is ever going to happen has already happened, that is to say if you think you can change the future you are mistaken. Any choice you make to affect the future is in fact the one you were going to make anyway, and has in fact already been made.
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(Pages 1-28 show above.)