Beginning today I am uploading my new novella, The Jubilee Machine to WordPress. Every couple of days I’ll post new chapters. If you like the story, please let me know. If you don’t, please let me know. I can take it.
Here we go:
THE JUBILEE MACHINE
Jimmy shuffled half-heartedly over to the fence to retrieve the ball. He hated football. He wasn’t very good at it, and he dreaded being in situations where other kids could make fun of him.
“Hurry up!” one of his classmates shouted. Sounded like Alex. Alex was a bully. Jimmy walked to the fence and picked up the worn leather ball. He turned back toward the playground, where a dozen pairs of 4th grade eyes watched him impatiently. Jimmy wondered whether he should throw the ball or kick it. He wasn’t good at either. He could run back with it, but that might be embarrassing, too.
“Come on! Kick it!”
That was definitely Alex. Jimmy swung his leg and booted the ball as hard as he could. It didn’t go straight, and it didn’t go far, veering off toward the basketball courts.
“Awesome kick, dude!” Alex barked, and several kids laughed, including Emily.
Jimmy was glad there were only a few minutes left in recess. He started to wander slowly back to the game, tennis shoes scuffing the short, ragged grass.
“James!”
Jimmy jumped, startled by the harsh, booming voice. He spun around. Standing on the other side of the fence was a monster. He was big, but bent over, with wild hair and a gruesome face and rags for clothes. He was glaring at Jimmy with fierce red eyes. Jimmy didn’t move, stricken with sudden fear.
The monster edged up to the fence and curled one hand through the chain links. Jimmy saw that two fingers were missing from the hand. The monster spoke his name again.
“James. I thought it was you. Even as a child, the features are unmistakable.”
Jimmy couldn’t say anything, and he didn’t think of running.
The monster started to speak again, but began coughing. It was a horrible sound, labored and thick. He leaned his face against the fence. His eyes were choked with red, angry veins. He stopped coughing.
“You don’t know who I am, do you? Because you’ve never met me, James. You’ve yet to send me to my doom on a mission you knew would fail.”
He raised his other hand to the fence and gripped it tightly.
“How do I look, James? Not bad, I think, considering I spent twenty years IN THE WRONG DAMN CENTURY!” He roared the words, and Jimmy was petrified.
“You know, it took me all those years to find another loop. And in the meantime, what happened?”
Jimmy could see that the monster had no teeth. He was drooling out of the left corner of his mouth. Jimmy started to back away.
“OH NO YOU DON’T!” the monster bellowed, moving sideways toward the gate. “You can’t imagine what I’ve been through trying to get back here. And of course, irony of ironies, coming back I landed almost exactly where I wanted to be—only off by a few years and a few hundred kilometers. Imagine that, James. When you sent me to Jerusalem you got it wrong by 200 years, and I landed in Persia. You did that on purpose, didn’t you little boy?”
He cleared his throat and it sounded like a chainsaw revving.
“Persia’s not very nice in the third century. And you know what, James? They don’t like foreigners. They destroyed my equipment. Took my gold. Tortured me for fun.”
He held up his mutilated hand.
“And all the while I kept thinking of how I could get back. And what I’d say to you when I finally found you.”
Jimmy was filled with dread. The man talked as if they knew each other, accusing Jimmy of things he couldn’t understand. Jimmy was afraid he would be attacked by this horrible, sick creature. He looked quickly behind him, preparing a dash to safety. The man was only a few feet from the gate, but maybe he was too sick to run very fast. Then Jimmy saw Mrs. Larkin approaching, striding quickly across the grass. She was coming to save him, to protect him from this evil thing that was blaming Jimmy for doing something terrible.
“Well, I’ve finally found you, James. And I want you to see what you’ve done to me. I want the whole world to know, and Badri and the staff. But they’re all children now, too, aren’t they? No one’s even in college yet.” He laughed: an angry hiss.
“You there!” Mrs. Larkin was trotting up to them. Jimmy backed toward her.
“What are you doing here? What are you doing to this boy?”
The ragged man’s fierce eyes remained riveted on Jimmy.
“It’s not what I’m doing to him, ma’am. It’s what he did to me. James McPherson is an evil person. He sent me to oblivion. But I’m back, James. I made it back.”
Mrs. Larkin put her arm around Jimmy protectively.
“You leave here at once, or I’ll call the police!” she declared.
The man turned his grotesque head to look at her, the first time he’d taken his eyes from Jimmy’s face.
“Do what you like. Believe me, the police in Illinois don’t scare me.”
He started to move through the gate. Jimmy saw that he was limping. Mrs. Larkin retreated, drawing Jimmy closer to her with one hand and slipping the other into her purse. She withdrew a mobile phone. The man hobbled toward them. Jimmy was relieved to see that he could barely move. He couldn’t outrun them.
Mrs. Larkin punched three numbers and held the phone to her ear.
“Yes. I have an emergency. I’m at Crawford Elementary school. I’m a teacher. There is a man threatening children in the playground, along Addison Street. Send someone quickly, please.”
This seemed to enrage the ragged man. He shouted as he continued to hobble toward them.
“Am I threatening you, James? Did I ever threaten you? Is that why you sent me to the wrong century? My mission was to meet Jesus, and you sent me to hell! Well, I’m back from hell, James! And you…you’re a little boy. You don’t even know what I’m talking about, because it hasn’t happened yet.”
Mrs. Larkin had been speaking quietly and quickly into the phone while the monster was raging. She snapped it shut and grabbed Jimmy by the hand.
“Come on, Jimmy. Let’s go. Now.”
They backed away at first, then turned and ran toward the school, looking over their shoulders at the man. He didn’t follow.
“You can’t run away, James! Because I’m back! Back to tell the world what you did! Remember the name, James. Benton Scott! BENTON SCOTT! You can’t escape now!”
Jimmy was sprinting for the safety of his classroom. As he looked back one last time, he saw a police car pull up and stop on Addison Street.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
“Welcome back, Mr. McPherson.”
The pretty security guard smiled at James as he breezed through the metal detector and reached for his security pass. He was oblivious to her presence.
James waved the pass over the monitor, then stood still while his eyes were scanned. The door slid open with a hiss. Inside, the Cassandra Project team was hard at work. James strode briskly into the room, well aware that all eyes turned to follow him. Badri Singh approached, arm outstretched and smiling.
“Welcome back,” he said, as the men exchanged a perfunctory handshake. “I trust everything went as planned?”
“Without a hitch.”
They walked together to the center of the large, austere room.
“So we’re free to proceed then?” Singh inquired quietly. James just nodded. Badri smiled broadly. “So now the fun begins.”
James nodded again, scanning the room. “Did you get my mathematician?”
“Sure did. You’re going to be quite pleased with him. I’ll introduce you.”
Singh led the way down a long hallway to the War Room, as they called it. A man was slouched in one of the metal chairs, fingers at his temples, eyes closed.
Singh rapped lightly on the open door.
The man looked up. He had very short hair but very long sideburns. One small gold hoop hung from his right ear. Probably has other piercings, James mused, and a few tattoos to boot. Singh cleared his throat.
“James, I’d like to introduce you to Benton Scott.”
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
They had assembled a good team. Seven renegades who shared a passion for time travel and a disdain for rules. At least four of them would be making jumps into other time spaces. Badri probably had too much mass, from years of sitting at laboratory benches and lunch counters, so it was unlikely he’d ever be able to fit into the miniscule machine that enabled time travel. James was too valuable to the overall program, and it appeared that he had no desire to personally travel in time; he just wanted to be the man who made it possible. But Benton, Jeremy, Antoine and Ken would be visiting the past and the future, to see what had been and what would be. Possibly Ellen, too. Time to find out if she was up to it.
“How’s your Aramaic?” Badri asked, smiling.
Ellen smiled, too, an impish, slightly crooked grin. “Decent. Seems to work okay at cocktail parties.”
“I want you to be on the team, Ellen,” Badri said, turning serious.
“I already am on the Cassandra team,” she said. “Have been for six months, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Badri moved around the workbench and stood within an arm’s length of Ellen.
“You know what I mean.”
“So the rumor is true. It’s ready now.”
“I want you to be on the team,” Badri repeated. “I think you know what that means.”
“Yes, I certainly do.” She leaned forward. “Can I tell my parents I won’t be home for Christmas?”
She was too cocky, that was the only problem. Self-confidence was essential in a project like this, certainly. They were all test pilots, racing to break the light barrier, none of them sure what happens when it’s broken, yet willing to risk their lives to be the first one to break it. But test pilots were all about limits—knowing where they were. Maybe Ellen was too undisciplined.
Badri frowned. “One step at a time. The first step is assessing whether you are capable and willing. Are you?”
“Yes, of course,” Ellen grinned. “So when can I jump?”
Badri’s response was sharp and forceful. “Don’t treat this lightly, Ellen. This is not a game. I personally don’t give a damn if you get to travel through time. But I do care about getting results. And nothing, nothing will get in the way of that. You don’t care about dying young? Good. I can ensure that happens if I learn that you’ve spoken a word of this to anyone.”
He stood up. “Anyone. If you want to be involved, then don’t talk. I hope I sound threatening enough. Now take your swaggering attitude and get back to work. You’ll know in 24 hours whether you’re included or not.”
petermaize 