A Mutiny in Time (Page 8)

“Well?” Sera pushed.

“I like your spirit,” Mari said quietly. “You’re going to need it for what we’re about to ask of you. But rein in the outbursts and Brint will tell you everything you need to know. Brint?”

Sera watched as the man shifted in his seat uncomfortably. It was obvious who was really in charge here. But Brint quickly recovered and took on a serious air as he leaned forward and folded his hands on the table.

“We’re members of a group called the Hystorians,” he began. “You wouldn’t have heard of us, but our organization goes back many, many centuries. It was founded by the great philosopher Aristotle in 336 BC. We’ve lasted in a continuous line ever since, united in a common goal to one day save the world from a disaster that only a visionary like Aristotle could have predicted. And today you’ve given us the biggest breakthrough since he spoke of that vision. Time travel.”

Sera glanced over at Dak, who sat up a little straighter, eyes focused on Brint. She was sure he felt the same relief she did — they hadn’t been taken by the SQ after all. If these people weren’t lying.

“Time travel?” Dak asked. “What does that have to do with Aristotle?”

Brint tightened his lips and nodded. “It has everything to do with him. He knew time travel would be possible someday, and he knew what it would be needed for. To go back and correct the Great Breaks. To remove the Remnants that haunt us. To set right the world’s course and prevent reality from ending in a fiery Cataclysm.”

The man paused and gave a long look to Sera, then Dak. “History is broken, and we need your help to fix it.”

12. The Hystorians

THERE WAS an emptiness inside Dak unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The shock and anger of losing his parents had worn off, leaving a numbness that was somehow worse. Numbness, and confusion. He had no idea what had happened, which wasn’t entirely surprising. The bad news was that Sera didn’t seem to know either. All he could say for sure was that they were gone, and the ache was like a choking smoke in his lungs.

But Brint’s words had pierced through the haze. Dak felt a spark of something. It wasn’t quite enough to make him forget his misery. But it was enough to get him interested.

“What does that mean?” Dak asked. “Fix history?”

“The world is not right, Dak, Sera. It’s gone off the rails, and we needed time travel to get it back on course.”

“But . . .” Sera began. “But history’s, well, history, isn’t it?”

“Let me start from the beginning,” Brint suggested. “We don’t have a lot of time — pardon the irony — but you two need to have a general understanding of what we’re dealing with. Are you ready for the story?”

Sera gave Dak a look that told him she was worried that he was going to fall apart at any second. And he probably would fall apart if he got any sympathy right now. So he put on a dopey grin and rubbed his hands together.

“I’m always ready for a story that starts with Aristotle,” he said.

Brint smiled. “Aristotle is my personal hero. He was one of the greatest minds of his time or any before it. As such, he was chosen at the age of forty-one by the king of Macedon, King Philip II, to become the tutor of his son, Alexander. Aristotle felt in his heart that Alexander would go on to do great things. He felt this very, very strongly — he even called the boy Alexander the Great so that he’d be aware of what was expected of him. But it all went wrong.

“In 336 BC, Alexander and his father were assassinated by a man named Attalas, the king’s own father-in-law, so that the grandson of Attalas could be the next king instead of Alexander. That boy was Karanos, Alexander’s half brother, and he did indeed become the next ruler, and went on to oversee a time of terrible darkness for Asia. Aristotle was devastated. He never really got over it.”

Now Dak was truly fascinated. He knew this story, of course — he’d been on a major ancient Greece kick just a few years before — but he had no idea what it had to do with anything that was going on now. He listened intently as the man continued, almost managing to ignore the ache that still swelled within his chest.

“Aristotle had an understanding of the world and its workings that far surpassed anyone of his period. He believed the universe had an order to it, that there is a fabric of reality in which the stories of life are woven. And deep in his heart, he knew, absolutely knew, that Alexander was not supposed to have been murdered that day. Alexander’s death represented a tear in the very fabric of reality. And, being the visionary man that he was, Aristotle planned to make things right.”

“How?” Dak and Sera asked together.

Dak went further. “How did he plan on reversing a murder?”

Mari answered this time, tucking her hair behind an ear. “Time travel. He believed it was possible — not in his own era, but someday. He held out hope that mankind would develop the means to navigate the time stream. To go back and correct the things that didn’t go the way they were supposed to go. Because if Alexander’s fate had gone wrong, it seemed to him that other problems would likely arise as time marched on. He called these incidents Breaks, and Alexander the Great’s murder was only the first.”

“But people die every day!” Sera said. “And think about how many horrible things have happened throughout history. All the wars, all the abuse, all the suffering. How could we possibly go back and stop every tragedy?”

Mari was shaking her head before Sera had even finished. “It’s not like that. This isn’t necessarily about bad things that have happened. For good or ill, most of history is part of the natural fabric of reality. We’re talking about events that never should have happened to begin with.”

“I don’t buy it,” Sera said.

“Sera . . .” Dak began.

“No! Dak, you’re too trusting. I can understand that this Aristotle guy was torn up over his student getting killed. I totally get that he’d wish he could go back and change what had happened. But who is he to decide what was supposed to happen and what wasn’t? How could he possibly know that?”

“Because of the Remnant,” Brint answered. The cheeriness in his voice had disappeared entirely. He caught Sera’s eyes. “Ah. I think you know what I mean. I think you’ve experienced a Remnant yourself, haven’t you? They’re unpleasant as a general rule. And Aristotle experienced the very first Remnant in history.”

“That definitely wasn’t in the biography I read,” said Dak. “And it was a very long biography.”

“It wouldn’t have made any of the public records,” Mari explained. “Aristotle had a traumatic vision at Alexander’s funeral — a vision of the great man and leader that Alexander would have become. But he knew better than to speak of it — after all, Karanos was king now, and suggesting that he shouldn’t be king would have been treason. So Aristotle only shared this knowledge with a small group of trusted friends and students. These were the first Hystorians, and they began a tradition that’s stretched throughout centuries and across continents, documenting the subsequent Breaks. In effect, we’ve been recording an entire secret history.”

“A secret history?” echoed Dak. “You mean there’s more history to learn?”

Sera only rolled her eyes.

Brint cleared his throat. “And all of that leads us to the Cataclysm. More than a dozen Breaks have been officially listed as matching Aristotle’s criteria. Everything from the kidnapping of a First Lady, to a botched mission in Europe during World War Two that had significant consequences. These Breaks not only led to undesirable outcomes, they severely damaged reality itself. The Remnants are one consequence of that. The increasingly intense natural disasters are another. Everything is falling apart, as you must be more than aware.”

Dak thought about that — his knowledge of history left no doubt that the rate of earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, and volcano eruptions had increased dramatically over the last hundred years. But to think that was somehow tied to certain events in history taking an unplanned route was . . . crazy. Just plain crazy.

“I can see those wheels spinning in your head,” Brint said to him. “I know this all must seem unlikely. But I swear to you, with all my honor as a Hystorian — and I’ve devoted my life to this — that what we’re telling you is true.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than we’ve laid it out,” Mari added. “But this is the gist of it. Aristotle created a society that would diligently track and pass down records of the Great Breaks throughout the years, hoping that someday the Hystorians would pioneer time travel and go back to correct what went wrong. And that’s where we stand today.”

Brint tapped his finger on the table. “Of course, there’s an even more immediate danger than earthquakes or Remnants.”

Dak waited, wondering, What now?

“The SQ,” Brint announced. “They’ve been around just as long as the Hystorians, though they’ve been known by many names. And where the rest of the world has suffered, they’ve actually benefited from the Breaks. As you might imagine, they’re not thrilled with the idea that somebody might change that.”

“What Brint is trying to say,” Mari continued, “is that the SQ has eyes and ears everywhere. And if they were to catch wind of what we’re up to here, they’d kill us all without hesitation.”

“We can keep you safe,” Brint said. “But only if you give us that Ring.”

13. A Dangerous Turn

SERA DIDN’T like Brint’s tone — she didn’t like this turn in the conversation at all. She quickly squeezed Dak’s hand before her friend could say anything. They had to play this right.

“I think the stakes are well-defined here,” Brint continued. “We need that Ring so we can reverse engineer it. Make our own. And begin the process of fixing history.” He and Mari looked squarely at Dak, who held the Ring clutched to his chest.

“Um,” Dak started before Sera could stop him. “I don’t know. All this stuff you’re saying makes sense, I guess, but . . . I need the Ring. I have to find my mom and dad.”

Sera knew Dak could be talked into anything — he was trusting to a fault. That meant it was up to her to protect their interests here, and she had no problem speaking up. “How did you people even know we had an operating time-travel device? Were you monitoring the area for stray chronon particles?”

Brint’s eyes flickered to Mari’s. “Um, yes, that’s exactly how we knew what you were up to.”

Sera scoffed at how easily she’d tricked them. “There’s no such thing as a chronon! The Hystorians have been spying on the Smyths all along, haven’t they? You’re no better than the SQ!”

Brint stuttered and stammered. Mari cleared her throat, stepping in to take charge of the conversation. “Okay. Yes. We’ve been . . . monitoring Dak’s parents. But we’re not like the SQ, I promise you. We’ve only done what we have for the good of the world. How do you think the Smyths got the money they needed for their research, anyway? The Hystorians have been funding them all along, in secret, providing grants that they didn’t know came from us.”