Martha knows that something is weighing on my mind, but instead of asking, she decides to distract me by taking me on a supply run to Capon Springs. We run all the way there, but plan to use Brill’s decrepit electric bus to get part of the way back to Bethany House with our loads of food. This time, I think the wheels really will fall off the bus because it’s loaded with containers of Capon Springs’ water to the point of groaning under my added weight. Brill is overseeing the effort.
“First Tuesday of the month,” Brill says. “You mind holding a container or two on your lap?”
“Why don’t you build a pipeline?” I ask.
“It’s only forty-thousand liters - give or take. I’ve been shipping it this way the first Tuesday for nearly ten years. No point in fixing something that isn’t broken.”
Ten years?
“Where’s it all going?” I ask.
“All over the world. We have people everywhere who help us,” Brill replies.
Another piece falls into place.
“The timing. The water. It all fits,” I say under my breath, but Martha hears me.
“What fits?” she asks.
“Huh? Forty thousand liters fit on the bus.”
Martha knows there’s more to my whisper, but Brill smiles at me and continues describing his system.
“A lot of it goes to wherever Austin is hiding out, and you never know where that might be,” Brill continues. “He says it gives him a little piece of home. That reminds me: he asked for a jar of homemade apple butter.”
He runs off to get it and returns with a small jar.
“Careful, Brill,” I say. “That little jar might just be the straw that breaks this old camel of a bus’s back.”
I’ve enjoyed teasing him about this ancient bus many times before and he’s always been good natured about it. Today he gets a serious look on his face instead.
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll hang a ‘danger’ sign on the front,” he says. “But I heard that what really comforts you is a ‘Beware of Monsters’ sign. I’d never have pegged you for the type to avoid monsters though. I’ve always thought you were the type to go looking for them.”
Is that yet another puzzle piece?
*****
William is waiting for us when we reach Bethany House.
“We received a transmission.”
That’s all he says; so we drop our heavy packs of food and water, and head for the command center.
“I haven’t shown it to anyone else,” he says, and plays it back for us.
Zip is on the screen. She’s smudged with dirt and her hair is a mess. In the background we can hear weapons’ fire.
“To any and all Four houses that receive this message. McIntosh is completely cut off. We’ve attempted three breakouts, but can’t get through. We need immediate relief from any remaining forces. So far, the cult hunters are only using stun guns; so our numbers are largely intact and we’ve been able to hold a perimeter, but our supplies are low. Please help.”
William pauses the video.
“There’s more,” he says. “She attached a list of the dead and missing. Everyone from Bethany House is listed as missing from the initial assault on the Maggie Valley vaccine facility, including your cousin Geoff. I’ve haven’t told Cindi or James.”
“Don’t,” I say. “They have enough on their minds. I’ll tell them, when the time’s right.”
*****
I leave Martha in the command center and move quietly through the darkened halls until I reach Albert’s room. He’s not there; so I quickly slip inside and turn on my headlamp. He’s not kidding that the place is full of explosives. I have no idea what I’m looking for; so I take a chance and grab the backpack he carried to Egypt and back, hoping he carries standard supplies on every mission. Jackpot. I find a little foil packet and a thermal igniter. I guess stealing will now be added to my list of sins.
The escape tunnels are empty, and I quickly reach the old metal door to the abandoned escape tunnel where Martha once hung a “Beware of Monsters” sign. There doesn’t seem to be any trick to how this stuff works; so I apply the putty to the top of the old padlock and hit it with the igniter. It turns out the trick is to close your eyes, because the instant the putty ignites I’m blinded. I turn and stumble away.
After a moment or two of hissing and popping, I hear the lock hit the floor. I can almost make out a glowing orange spot on the floor that must be the remains of the lock, but otherwise my vision is nothing but blue and white spots. I feel around until I find the door handle and give it a hard pull. The door opens with a groan, but only enough for me to squeeze through. I kick the glowing orange spot through the opening and pull the door closed behind me.
I’m now alone with whatever monsters lurk in here.
As I sit against the door and wait for my vision to return, I hear Martha on the other side - calling my name. It’s just like her dream: I’m on this side, not allowing her to help me. If my suspicions are correct, this room will indeed be a personal torture chamber … but not the physical kind. I hold my breath until I hear Martha leave. I’ve passed the first mental torture this place has in store.
When there’s only one large blue spot left in my vision, I turn my headlamp on and find I can see well enough to move around safely. I’m in a rough-hewn entryway that opens to the ancient chamber where Austin and Brill broke through over ten years ago. The floor is dirt and rock; so at least I don’t need to worry about rotted wood giving way beneath me. However, I still test every step before putting down my full weight. I’m only twenty meters into the area when I see what I’d both hoped and feared I’d find.
“You don’t look like you’ll hold a very big monster,” I say, as I pick up the small, bottomless metal cage. “I guess looks can be deceiving. You’re the monster that saves us all, but you ask a steep price in return, don’t you? You ask me to sacrifice my parents. You ask me to sacrifice my life too, or at least the life I could have had with them. Okay, little monster. Let’s get it done.”
I turn and walk straight back to the door, using exactly the same steps as I used to enter. I give the door a careful push, but as I squeeze through, two headlamps come on.
“It looks like we caught a monster trying to escape,” Albert says. “You didn’t really think you could burn my putty without me smelling it, did you?”
“I assume there’s a good explanation for this,” my cousin James says.
“Under the Sphinx, I asked you both to trust me, and you did everything I asked without question. You even brought back pieces of the time machine, and neither of you have said a word about it. You must be curious.”
They look at each other.
“Cephas? Are you saying…?”
“I’m saying that we’re going to violate every thought I’ve ever had regarding messing with time. I’m saying that we’re going to put it back together. I assume you double-checked everything once you got it back here to Bethany House?”
“I just finished doing that,” Albert says. “We brought back everything that was salvageable, but I don’t see what good it’ll do. There just isn’t enough left to rebuild it. Getting some bars from the arena was a good idea; but it’ll take months to figure out the exact composition and make enough to build a new arena. Even if we can build an arena, there are only a few crystals left that didn’t fry.”
“This is a bad choice,” James says.
I bring the old cage out from behind my back.
“There is no choice, James. The decision was made twelve years ago.”
*****
In the dark, the remaining staff of Bethany House never notices the missing lock or the dust that Albert, James and I track out onto the floor, as we spend more time in the old tunnel. It only takes a few days to reassemble a tiny version of the prototype time machine; but James and Albert need a few more hours to create a second small arena from the alloys recovered outside Jerusalem. I find them carefully bending and welding pieces of metal together.
“I still say it would be a lot less work to just use the dusty one we found here,” Albert says. “Cephas said it’s a one-way trip, so it’s not like we need two of them.”
“We can’t. Somebody needs to make the cage. If we don’t make it, it’ll be a paradox,” James replies.
“You mean that cage is this cage?” Albert asks.
“That’s right, and that cage is only here because we’re going to make it and send it back; so keep working.”
“That’s crazy,” Albert says.
“I know. I argued for an hour with Cephas about it, until he showed me where you and I put our initials on it … or will put our initials.”
“What if we choose not to put our initials on it? Will they disappear from the old cage?”
James makes the same face everyone seems to make when they think too hard about time and paradox.
They look up briefly to confirm who’s entered the area, but return to their work, as I carefully clear some electronics tools to make a small area on their workbench where I can write.
I’ve started this letter a dozen times already, and burned all of the earlier attempts. I’m not usually a person who finds himself at a loss for words; but I’ve also never written a letter like this one before. I don’t know what to say, much less how to say it; so I sit and stare at the blank sheet of paper.
I’ve set a difficult task in front of James and Albert; but neither one of them would trade roles with me for what I’ve planned. They’ve watched in silence at my last three attempts to write, including crumpling up paper in frustration and shedding more than a few tears. My cousin James is usually a man of very few words, and for that reason I listen carefully when he begins to speak.
“Cephas. When Martha’s trying to keep everyone’s morale up, she sometimes lists all of the ways you’ve sacrificed yourself for others. Are you thinking this sacrifice is just one too many?”
“Sacrifice makes us all who we are, James. The difficult part isn’t sacrificing myself. It’s knowing the chain of events I’ll cause, and all the other people who’ll be sacrificed because of me. When I meet them in Heaven one day, what will I say to them?”
“I know exactly who you’re talking about. I never met your parents, but I know that when you meet them, they’ll understand,” James replies. “Sacrifice is just part of being a Christian.”
God sacrificed His only Son for me… I must carry this plan through, and trust in Him.
“Cephas?” James returns to his pragmatic self. “Just get it done. This is one of those times when sacrificing yourself is also the only way to save yourself. When I was a kid, I thought I’d never meet you. In Giza, I thought I’d lost you. I refuse to lose you again.”
I start writing the letter that has caused me such turmoil. If writing such a letter is considered the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, it’s only because I’ve never had to receive and read such a letter. My parents received such a letter when I was six-years-old, and I can’t imagine how they bore it.
*****
With the letter finished, I go to my room and search through Martha’s desk until I find the gold locket that travelled back with her from ancient Egypt. Then I go to the laboratory to speak with Cindi and Amelia. I’m surprised to see them relaxing in the far corner of the lab, rather than hard at work, as they usually are.
“How’s the vaccine work coming along?”
“We’re on schedule,” Cindi says. “Amelia and I just finished cutting off the DNA tail that Henry added, re-purifying it and cloning it back into the virus.”
She holds up a small vial.
“This sample has around a half million active copies of the synthetic virus. If we can set up a production facility, we can start growing more at any time.”
She sets the vial down in a rack.
“I also have the copies of all the data on the toxin and vaccine that you wanted; but why did you want a copy converted to a ten-year-old format?”
She hands me two small data chips.
“Some of the smaller houses use very old computers. We want everyone to be able to read the data.”
She cocks her head to one side, as she scrutinizes my statement.
“Martha and I brought in a load of smoked ham and fresh baked bread. I thought you two might like a lunch break.”
“I’d love a sandwich,” Amelia says.
“Me too. I’m famished,” Cindi adds.
We all head towards the control area, where food is stored.
“I’ve already eaten, and Martha and I plan to send information on the vaccine out for the world to see. Enjoy your lunch.”
I watch them walk down the darkened hall. When they’re out of sight, I go back into the lab.
It’s time…