Firestone Key

PART ONE - CONSEQUENCE

Chapter 1

The Firestone was just that - a stone - an innocuous black, shiny pebble that easily fitted into the average palm. All that it had to recommend it, by way of decoration, was a razor-thin, scarlet gash that spiralled around its length. No-one would have believed that it was anything other than a rock. Not a soul suspected that it could patiently lie in wait... and kill.

The Firestone first appeared in this Present Age at the moment of Elaine’s conception. Elaine’s mother-to-be was the first to discover the pebble after its arrival, being clumsy enough to step straight on it as she slid out of bed. In the midst of experiencing a rare emotion – happiness – and because she was of a superstitious nature, she immediately assumed that her current good luck was due to the strange presence of this rock on her bedroom floor. She duly cherished it. Sadly, for the cheerful owner, that was the last time she would ever be happy again.

*  *  *

When the former British Empire eventually faced up to its ignominious collapse, some century after it had taken place, the government of the day courted public opinion by declaring that the homeland would be Great once again. This time it would include those whose ancestors had been roundly exploited in the past. To create a new Super Class, the National Academy was tasked with training the finest young minds of Britain, whatever their ethnicity, gender, etc. With the student body entirely funded by the government, and aided by a few unscrupulous businessmen with deep pockets, the Academy was touted as a charitable institution of inestimable promise. In fact, it was the training ground for the next generation of wealth creation. Even the dimmest of the genius students quickly discerned the difference and used it to their advantage.

None, however, were aware of the global tragedy beginning to take root in our most basic of needs: food. It would take a full generation for the magnitude of the disaster to become apparent, just in time for the prospective saviour to arise: a young woman wearing a necklace made of stone.

*  *  *

Elaine was born into a world that would be considered toxic by anyone’s standards. Her mother had grown up in an abusive household and had never been given the help needed to avoid recreating it. Falling in love with a carbon copy of her handsome and violent father, she discovered exactly how manipulative her lover could be, at almost the same moment as Elaine was conceived. She may well have loved her daughter, in whatever way she could manage through the prism of warped thinking, but any maternal feeling was soon eclipsed by a stronger emotion: terror of, and dependency on, Elaine’s brutal father.

The child swiftly learned that silence and hiding were the key to survival and took this internalisation of her world into every area of her life. Her school reports indicated that she was quiet, respectful and punctual. No-one, except her mother, ever saw the bruises which were kept carefully hidden beneath loose clothing, her father being accurate with his abuse. Not even Elaine knew the extent of the scarring to her soul, with the exception of her clear understanding of loneliness.

As her father often remarked, when he was sober enough to do so, Elaine didn’t resemble his handsome features, having inherited her mother’s nondescript looks, fine mousy hair and average height and build. If her physical ordinariness wasn’t enough to alienate her, Elaine soon exhibited signs of having been gifted with an extraordinary mind, clearly inherited from neither of her parents. By the age of ten, the daughter’s intellect already vastly eclipsed her father’s; the final nail in the coffin of paternal love.

Following a school assessment, her exceptional mind came to the attention of the National Academy, a representative of which attempted to gain the approval of her parents for Elaine’s enrolment. Her father, sensing that he might be able to extort money from someone, was fiercely refusing to give his consent when a tragedy occurred that removed both her parents from the picture and delivered a livid, diagonal scar, bisecting her face. She never spoke of either matter to anyone.

Six months after her traumatic twelfth birthday, Elaine and suitcase were deposited at the austere entrance to the Academy. No-one bothered to see her inside; after all, Elaine was far too intelligent to need any moral support. Having watched the car screech away at top speed, leaving a choking cloud of dust, she dragged her suitcase through the massive wooden doors and up three flights of stairs.

Alone again, she turned her stone necklace over and over in her fingers, glancing around the room that would be her home for the next six years. The walls were devoid of decoration, sporting a miserable shade of ivory that matched the blandness of the grey carpet. Apart from the bed on which she currently sat, the only other furniture was a large plastic desk and its matching chair and lamp – cream, of course. Resembling a cross between a hospital ward and a prison cell, the entire room was a bare canvas for the latest occupant’s imagination. Elaine felt bereft of any. Her creative inspiration had dried up under the onslaught of self-pity. Having decided that to lament her lot was a pointless waste of time, Elaine went on a lone expedition to spy out the rest of the premises.

Pacing along the corridor, she noticed that the grey carpeting of her room seemed to extend throughout the entire establishment in a snaking sea of drabness. Reaching the stairwell, Elaine gazed up at spiralling steps which strained towards another four floors of depressing sameness. The decision to head downstairs was not a difficult choice to make; at least gravity was on her side. She had almost reached the first floor when music floated up to her eager ears, banishing the funereal silence of the dormitory block.

Elaine followed the heavy beat and joyful rhythms which magnified as she opened the door to the corridor. Locating the source, she peered through a wide open door to witness the most beautiful girl she had ever seen, gyrating around the multicoloured room in a scarlet kaftan.

The room was peculiar, to say the least. Various fabrics hung from the ceiling, from behind which peeped a variety of posters and charts depicting the Universe, the Periodic Table and a curious array of dinosaurs. The latter were wearing the latest fashions, stuck over their limbs with tape. The desk had long since disappeared beneath a heap of fads, gimmicks and the scribblings of its manic owner.

Want to dance? the girl hollered over the music, grabbing Elaine’s hand and propelling her headlong into the chaos of her room. Are you the new girl? You must be. I’m Leila, the willowy beauty continued in the smooth, clipped tones of the upper classes.

Elaine stared up at the twitching apparition, whose ironed-straight, ash blond hair sailed a good six inches above her own mousy head. Elaine, she softly replied, utilising her usual habit of using as few words as possible.

What? Leila yelled, not hearing a word over the thumping rhythm.

Elaine! her soon-to-be best friend responded in the loudest voice she had ever managed to muster; then stood shocked at the sound of it.

Hellooooo Elaine, Leila sang, picking out the tune as she completed a circuit of the room, clambering over the discarded clothes and paraphernalia that littered the floor. How old are you?

Twelve, Elaine replied, mesmerised by the girl’s china blue eyes, like those of a doll from centuries past.

I’m older. I’m a teenager. Thirteen and five feet eleven.

Quickly bored with her dancing - Leila’s roving mind never allowing her to concentrate on one thing for very long - she turned off the music and moved on to her next short-term obsession.

I’ll show you around, she told the newcomer, her voice echoing down the corridor, into which she had already made lengthy strides.

Confused by the attention, Elaine felt obliged to follow and scrambled to catch up with the lanky girl as she flowed away in a sea of scarlet chiffon.

It’s quiet at the moment; everyone’s in their lessons.

You? Elaine enquired, a little out of breath with the speed of their tour.

Nope. Day off, to relax, Leila replied, smiling. She knew the irony of that statement. "They make me rest. Her expression indicated how foul she found the concept. I work on too many things. I don’t like doing nothing, do you? Their work is sooo boring. I can think of so much better..."

Like blowing up the science lab, three times?

The masculine voice came from behind them. Elaine turned and saw a young man of similar height and bearing to her impromptu tour guide, although his features were not as striking.

My twin brother. Don’t listen to him. He’s a boy, Leila announced, as though that explained everything.

My name is Neil. My sister never bothers to name me, he advised, his expression remaining unmoved.

Elaine couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed by his sister’s lack of interest or resigned to it. His expression altered, however, once his gaze found her face. Being used to the swiftly suppressed shock reaction of most people when faced with her scar, Elaine looked away, giving him time to regain his composure. Once he realised how his reaction had been perceived, Neil was overcome by shame, being an inherently kind soul.

This is my new friend, Elaine, Leila stated, rescuing her brother, although she was blissfully unaware of that fact.

Hello said Neil, surprising Elaine by grasping and firmly shaking her hand.

In the space of a few seconds, a stunned Elaine had experienced two utterly unique events: friendship and touch.

Watch out for my sister, Neil continued, still pumping Elaine’s hand. She’s a troublemaker. They would throw her out, only she’s cleverer than all of them put together.

That’s me! Leila agreed, delivering a stunning smile that made her pale eyes sparkle. I’m showing her around, so go away.

Fine, Neil responded, with a sniff. He wanted to stay, but had never been able to deny his sister anything.

Leila watched him take a few tentative steps into the distance before changing her mind, as was her want. Alright, you can come, if Elaine says so.

OK, the smaller girl agreed, when two sets of eyes swivelled to hers.

You don’t say an awful lot, do you? Leila correctly observed, whilst disregarding tact.

Can’t all be as loud as you, Neil chided. He turned to Elaine. They tried to make her wear normal clothes, but they gave up. She likes to look a twit.

I look red, Leila responded, with her usual lateral thinking.

For the next thirty minutes Leila whistled around the campus, brother and friend in tow, delivering a non-stop stream of useless anecdotes and off-the-wall observations on their surroundings and fellow students. Peering through the windows of the classrooms, Elaine gained a snatched view of the laboratories and workshops where she would spend her days being a genius. In the huge and staggeringly well-equipped computer lounge, she easily spotted Leila’s empty work station; a rubber Tyrannosaurus Rex, wearing a sequined tutu, was firmly taped to the top of the console.

*  *  *

Considering the unusual nature of the trio involved, they became oddly inseparable, with only one overriding drawback to their closeness. Despite Neil being invariably kind and reasonably good-looking, albeit not in his sister’s league, Elaine never felt the slightest attraction to him. Despite her scarred face and reticence, Neil had fallen in love with Elaine by the end of the first day of meeting. Four years later, the sexual tension between the pair had become difficult to handle, especially for a girl who had only ever witnessed the abusive relationship of her parents.

Perched on a balcony, their legs dangling through its metal bars, Leila and Elaine were engaged in ogling the boys’ football team during practice. Mud flew and muscles rippled as a tall, dark, handsome hunk dribbled his way down the pitch, wind blowing through his hair.

Sorry, I don’t like him, observed Elaine, to Leila’s utter shock.

You don’t like him? Leila squeaked, choking on a stolen can of beer. Rules meant nothing to her at this stage, principally because she knew that she could never be expelled. Her parents, whilst always somewhere abroad, were powerful and wealthy; besides, she was a genius extraordinaire.

I mean your brother, Elaine qualified.

Neil? I don’t like him, either.

Elaine snorted with laughter. He’s your brother.

If I was you, I mean. He’s my brother, but he’s... I’d want him. Leila pointed at the Hunk below. Go for him.

Scar, Elaine stated, her voice hard.

So? replied Leila, with all the comprehension of the beautiful. Try. He would like you. They would all like you; if they knew you.

Neil emerged from the Academy carrying a huge pile of books on ancient architecture, his emerging passion. He knew that he didn’t bear the intellect of his twin and that he had been allowed to attend the Academy as an attempt to keep Leila in line, but he was neither stupid nor idle. He was only foolish where his feelings for Elaine were concerned. As soon as she entered his mind, his eyes involuntarily strove to locate her.

The girls swiftly withdrew their legs and shuffled backwards, out of his eyeline, until he moved on.

He’s going to ask me. Again, Elaine groaned. He gets sad when I say no.

We shall be leaving here soon, anyway. Leila stared at Elaine with an intensity in those pale blue eyes that was a little unnerving. No-one splits us up.

*  *  *

All through her miserable childhood, Elaine had secretly fantasised about being a model or an actress or, failing that, a creative arts genius. As luck would have it, she turned out to be extraordinarily gifted in exactly the opposite manner. Mastering the elements of physics within a year of her arrival, Elaine was swiftly diverted into the field of Quantum Mechanics and Electrodynamics, whether she liked it or not. She didn’t complain, soon learning to savour the esteem in which she was held.

At eighteen, she delivered a thesis, so incredible, that it earned her plaudits from around the world, principally because no professor, tutor or scientist had the capacity to follow her reasoning through to its impenetrable conclusion. Even Leila had difficulty reviewing past page ten, whereupon she became bored and gave up.

Neil had graduated and now split his time between the building of other people’s projects and talking to Elaine on the phone, nursing his long-term crush. In her turn, Neil remained the only man to whom Elaine could relate, sensing no threat to her wellbeing or likelihood of abandonment.

When Elaine stepped through the doors of the Academy for the last time, she found both her friends waiting for her, ready to act as delegates for a new government project.

What project? Elaine had asked.

Anything we want! Leila shouted and did a little dance of glee.

None of the trio was aware of the truth: Leila’s DNA thesis, delivered the year earlier, had caused so much consternation in scientific circles that the government had been forced to keep a close watch on her development. Fearing a dangerous move into the private sector (and the potential loss of revenue that might result), Leila had been quickly assigned to the ‘Think Tank’; where all the most lethal thinkers were housed. They were given carte blanche to research, money no object, and the military on hand to end the rise of any fledgling megalomaniac. Naturally, Leila had refused to join unless her brother and friend came with her. Thus, Elaine found herself in a cavernous underground facility without a single idea of what to do.

For six years, the trio debated what worthy project to expend their time and intellect upon, without reaching a consensus. In the meantime, their unworthy versions flourished without measure; a steady stream of the inventive and useless which, of course, netted a fortune. The trio would probably have continued for decades, growing steadily more bored and disillusioned, had not the global crisis emerged.

The tragedy, whilst a generation in the making, was devastating once it took hold, quickly spreading across all continents. Somehow the entire food chain, both plant and animal life, had become contaminated. At first, the victim suffered a low-level nausea; a queasy sense of unease and loss of appetite, whatever food was consumed. Soon, the body became progressively unable to tolerate any sustenance and expelled the ‘poison’ by violent vomiting and diarrhoea, laden with blood. Eventually, the digestive system ceased to function. Liquidised food gave way to injected nutrients as humanity began to starve by the millions.

Academy alumni, including the trio, were engaged across the world, but all that the brightest minds could discover was that the process was irreversible and untreatable. With the plague apparently being neither bacterial, viral, nor a true contamination, they were unable to find the cause or any viable treatment. It was too late to trace the spread of the disease back to patient zero and there seemed no pattern as to when, or if, a patient would develop symptoms.

With desperation the order of the day, the impenetrable thesis of a young woman with a stone necklace was recovered, dusted off and thrust back under her nose. Elaine and her friends were to be given a never-ending supply of money, a new state-of-the-art system of laboratories and the horrific burden of saving humanity... by inventing time travel.

Chapter 2

In the midst of a forest, the concrete cube of The Project arose under ever present military supervision. A creaking, groaning crane lowered a gigantic blue power cable into a trench. Sporting shiny red boots and matching scarlet coat, Leila peered into the hole.

Blue. I like blue. Red’s better, but blue’s fine, she wittered.

Clad in more muted overalls and industrial wellington boots, Elaine occupied her spinning thoughts by making notes, whilst Neil mucked in with the builders. Whatever dreams the trio may have harboured lay crushed beneath the weight of expectation and concrete.

Have we found any more skeletons? Leila shouted across to Elaine, causing the milling soldiers to briefly look up.

No, Elaine told her, for the hundredth time, and went back to making notes.

Pity.

The macabre find of a shrivelled and hideously distorted skeleton had been the only interesting thing to have happened on site for weeks. It had been unceremoniously carted away in a body bag and that was the last they had heard of it.

Bored with her inspection of blue cables, Leila decided to half balance, half dance along a newly constructed wall, singing off key about the merits of blue.

If you don’t stop, they’ll shoot you, Elaine offered.

The surrounding soldiers promptly applauded, until they spotted their new commanding officer picking his way across the mud caked site.

Miss Forrester? the newcomer enquired.

Elaine pointed at Leila, just in time for an excruciating high note.

You’ll do, he decided, turning back to Elaine.

Thanks. Elaine.

No, my name’s Caleb. Sorry, old joke.

Ever Elaine’s jealous protector, Neil inserted himself into the eccentric exchange, stating, Neil.

Caleb promptly knelt, to Elaine’s amusement.

Neil instantly hated him. Who are you?

Major Caleb Grantham. I’m your new jailor, said the officer, rising and holding out his hand.

Neil took a moment too long to grasp it. Elaine, however, thrust out her hand a little too eagerly. Caleb delivered a devastating smile and duly shook it.

Hello, handsome, chirped Leila, from behind him. Welcome to our madhouse.

Caleb turned, leaving Elaine to witness his stunned reaction to her friend’s staggering beauty. Usually she wouldn’t have minded, but not today.

Nearing forty, the silver haired Major Caleb Grantham wasn’t the most gorgeous man in the universe, his features were a little too rugged for that, but he had an aura about him, an air of concerned confidence that simply screamed, ‘Saviour!’ Being the most obviously in need of one, Leila promptly fell in love with him on the spot. Elaine, being the more reserved of the two, took another ten minutes.

Neil, still nursing his unrequited love for Elaine, discerned this change in the emotional environment, his senses magnified by his own rejection. Hoping that Elaine’s guarded affection would only be a passing crush, Neil watched as his sister’s charm, energy and beauty had their inevitable impact on the Major; they began dating the next day. Unfortunately, this didn’t alter how Elaine felt. Over the following months, as The Project took shape, she persistently confided to Neil that she seemed doomed to perpetual friendship, oblivious to his own life sentence.

*  *  *

Time travel theory was impenetrable to all but Elaine and Leila, but it was sound. As months passed into years, they grew ever closer to breakthrough, whilst fending off the impatience of everyone else. The notion was relatively simple: travel back in time to trace the origin of the plague; travel forwards in time to trace its evolution. Unfortunately, the global loss of life had reached two billion by the time they were forced to admit that they had reached an impasse. All the money, assistance and genius available in the world could not take them any further. If they couldn’t crack time travel, then no-one could.

*  *  *

Elaine peered through the regimented wire fence that surrounded The Project complex. She knew every bleak inch of the concrete monstrosity that had been her home for so long now. She had ventured outside because a brief glimpse of any wildlife, lurking in the forest beyond, still had the power to lift her disillusionment. The misery that had engulfed the world showed no sign of slowing, yet a squirrel sat on a branch, juggling a nut as though nothing could possibly upset his game. She watched, enthralled, absent mindedly turning her necklace over and over in her fingers.

She wore the black stone almost every day. It seemed to match the urban edginess that had descended with the passing years. Only three weeks ago, she had celebrated her thirtieth birthday, although no-one actually marked it, including herself. Neil would have showered her with presents, had he known, but she had always refused to inform him of the date. The appalling events of her twelfth birthday prevented her from ever wanting to discuss such matters with anyone, not even her closest friends. Thinking of Neil brought back the morning’s embarrassing conversation, when he had tried, yet again, to convince her to give him a chance. It had not ended well.

A sudden gust of wind blew through the trees causing golden leaves to float on the moving air and spiral around the unconcerned squirrel. Elaine shivered, feeling as though a dark shadow was passing directly over her soul, although it was barely autumn and still warm. She spun on her heel, with determined precision, and headed back inside her open prison.

Elaine strode down a sterile corridor, navigating the severe down gradient on her way to an imposing metal safety door. She leaned forward, allowing a red laser beam to pass over both eyes and process the retinal scan into a digital picture. A screen flashed up the invitation: ENTER ACCESS CODE.

44329864AS, intoned Elaine, bored with this daily ritual. As she turned, she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the metal door. Her fingers rose, as though to touch the facial scar, but she chose to avert her gaze. There was a mild click of agreement, replaced by a metallic grinding as the door began to slide upwards.

It was dark in The Project, with no windows to brighten the gloom. Various lights blinked on and off as computer memory, equal to that of a nation, struggled to make sense of the tidal wave of data to come. Only Leila’s console did battle with the austere drabness of function; her trusty Tyrannosaurus Rex, tutu frayed at the edges, sat on top, surveying the proceedings with the superior air of the extinct. Elaine had long since become oblivious to the details. The Project’s every corner was known and loathed, from the horseshoe of consoles surrounding the central plinth and its two upright poles, to the restraining bolts suspended from the ceiling. Should the generated stream spiral out of control, the bolts would descend, cross and interrupt the helix. They had never yet moved; the Project had stagnated at stage three.

Glad you could join us, Neil jibed. As always, he only meant to engage Elaine in conversation and force her to acknowledge his presence.

I’m not late, Neil, Elaine snapped, inflicting her mood on her hapless friend. Leave off.

I’m joking. I... he tailed off, kicking himself, again.

Morning, Ellie.

The deep, gravelly tones of the arriving Major Caleb Grantham caused Elaine to perk up, but she only ended up smiling inanely to his back. She caught sight of a scowling Neil, but chose to ignore him.

The pristinely uniformed Caleb made his way around the horseshoe and arrived at Leila’s vacant console.

Where’s Leila? he asked Elaine, launching one of his disarming smiles.

Hanging off you, usually, griped Neil.

Loitering behind him, Caleb went cross-eyed. Elaine dutifully giggled, never concerned that she was undermining Neil in a bid to connect with Caleb. Her joy faded when Leila sailed in, waving a mug of coffee.

Ready, girls? she chirped, a fraction too cheerfully.

Watch the caffeine, was Elaine’s tired response.

Leila arrived at her console, took a swift and sturdy grip on her lover and kissed him for an interminable length of time. Suddenly needing to be occupied, Elaine lowered herself into her work station, situated between that of Leila and her brother. Neil chose to stare at a photo atop his screen: himself aged fourteen, his arms wrapped around a smiling Leila and Elaine, standing in front of the National Academy. His gaze swivelled to Elaine, but she swiftly looked away and savagely punched a button on her console. The safety door duly ground shut.

Neil petulantly threw a switch on his own console, even more annoyed at himself. Project on, he stated, rather loudly given the confined space.

The nameless, faceless parade of support staff went about their thankless tasks, reconciled to being invisible in the midst of a four-way soap opera. A metallic whine quickly rose in pitch and volume, causing the machinery to vibrate around them. The embarrassing kiss ended.

I have solved the problem, Leila stated, once she surfaced.

Clever girl, Caleb commented, sucking in breath.

It’s focus, Elaine began, in a long suffering tone. I told...

Ah, but I, wonder that I am, said Leila, raising one finger in the air and making an insufferable face, know how to fix said problem. I have tightened the helix strain.

We’ll get a feedback loop, moaned Neil, singularly unimpressed.

Not if we keep a close watch on the spiral, Leila chirped, patting her brother on the head as punctuation to each word. Here...

She mercifully ceased to patronise Neil and typed into her keyboard, LEILA TRAVEL ONE. The program loaded and figures streamed onto the screen. Curious, Elaine peered over Leila’s shoulder at the unfolding data. Her stone necklace swung gently on its chain as Elaine leaned forward, coming to rest nestled against Leila’s bare arm.

Might work, Elaine grudgingly admitted, having streamed the computations through her phenomenal brain at lightning speed.

It has to. Please make it work, pleaded Leila to whatever Higher Power might be listening.

Elaine had a logical and practical mind. She knew that Leila’s idea should be tested, counter tested and passed through a mock-up before ever reaching the Project itself. She was also tired of failure. I say go, was all she actually said; three small words that would change her life and that of every other living thing.

An over-excited Leila performed a tribal victory dance, spilling coffee over Neil.

Coffee, moaned Neil, way out of his depth.

Cal?

Leila circled the Major, willing him to give the order.

Caleb laughed at her joyful enthusiasm. Never understand a word you say, he admitted. But if Ellie agrees, go for it, or why are we here?

Just a moment. Are we sure...? an uneasy Neil intervened, uncertain as to why.

Everybody ignored him, as usual. Elaine nodded at Leila, who duly punched a button with theatrical panache.

Power up, Neil observed.

The rising whine and pronounced vibration of the equipment announced the arrival of the flood.

System configuring, Elaine said, watching the data stream across her screen, and complete.

From all around her, the reports began to come in, as they had countless times before. Flow capacity 20%... 40%... 80%... Full flow achieved. Beginning focus. Density... holding. Helix forming.

Bright blue beams blasted between the two poles and spiralled into an energy helix, suspended in space. It was utterly glorious to behold, but they had seen it many times before.

It’s working, Leila said, with premature enthusiasm.

Don’t think so, warned Neil, ever the voice of doom.

As was her way, Elaine remained silent.

The shrieking increased and the beams began their usual degradation. Although the helix had been more tightly focussed, the power steadfastly refused to expand and, yet again, showed signs of imminent collapse. Leila slumped back into her chair, defeat showing in her face. She had been so sure that it would work this time. Power flushed down the helix, as water downhill.

No, Leila cried, slamming her mug on the console. It shattered, spraying what remained of her coffee everywhere. Whilst Neil and the nameless scrambled to mop up liquid before it dribbled its way into sensitive equipment, a curious Elaine decided to take a closer look at the tighter helix before it broke down. Making her way to the bottom of the slope, she approached the still spiralling light, fascinated by the changing shapes within the helix itself.

Look at it. The shape. That’s not the same, she muttered to herself.

Neil always heard every word she said. Noticing how close she was to the beams, he ceased mopping up and rushed towards her. Careful. Elaine.

Edging even closer, Elaine was so enthralled that she didn’t notice her stone necklace rise, pulled by currents. Arriving at her side, Neil’s fingers closed around the stone, just as Leila hammered her soggy console, yelling, Work, damn you!

Power surged through the Project in staggering quantity, filling the entire room with blinding blue light. The stream solidified into the helix, gaining focus like a lens to sunlight and spiralling too fast for the naked eye. The vibration magnified, making even the concrete walls shake and toppling T-Rex from his perch. Consoles exploded as equipment crumbled under the onslaught. The accompanying shriek hit a soprano note, so visceral, that Neil was forced to holler above it, Feedback. Shut down!

Leila stabbed at her console, but there was no response. She tried Elaine’s console, yelling, Restraining rods won’t engage!

Neil looked up. The rods were cracking at their base, unable to survive the spasms that were rocking the entire complex. He had barely moved a step when a swirling vortex took hold of Elaine, lifting her off her feet and sucking her into the helix. She thrust her hand towards Neil, straining to anchor herself to him.

His fingertips reached hers, just as there was a blinding flash.

Chapter 3

Elaine had scarcely a moment to feel the cold stab of terror before the light engulfed her. The spiralling helix had expanded, so rapidly, that she found herself at the epicentre, inexorably drawn into an invisible vortex. The stream seemed to take a disorientating grip on her senses. She floated in the rotating floodwaters, adrift in an elusive void. It was not unpleasant, at first; a separation of body and thought, freeing the senses to drift where they may. All too soon, a coldness descended, as though ice had surrounded and penetrated those vulnerable senses, left unprotected by the flesh. Fear stalked in the darkness, creeping closer and closer, just beyond the reach of logic. And then... then... a touch; a whisper; a hint of a power, thrillingly great... and undeniably evil.

Suddenly, it all went away, as though a switch had been thrown, allowing her to plummet back into reality. Stunned and terrified in equal measure, Elaine stared down at her sneakers. She couldn’t be sure whether those feet had ever strayed from this spot.

Be ye. Her. Elaine!

The angry yell interrupted her confusion and made her look up in surprise. The suddenness of the vocal intrusion was nothing in comparison with the visual shock that awaited her. Her feet were no longer positioned inside the gloomy Project laboratory, but firmly planted on cobblestones, darkened by the fact that it was night. Clear skies revealed a canopy of twinkling stars that would have been romantic, had a mob of angry people, all sporting medieval style leathers, not begun to point at her with an excited fury. Unfortunately, for Elaine, the lanky, wide-eyed, rat faced, young owner of the voice, going by the rather obvious nickname of Sworder, appeared to be in charge.

Get her!

Gestures soon progressed to movement. The mob grabbed swords, knives or any handy implement and advanced on her vulnerable position. Panicked, Elaine swiftly scanned the area. She seemed to be standing in the middle of a courtyard, with a high surrounding stone wall blocking the view. Behind her, loomed a huge stone edifice; the walls of a castle, perhaps? An iron gate at the far end of the courtyard offered a slight glimpse of a greener location.

It worked! The amazing thought flashed through Elaine’s mind. The Project actually worked. I’ve gone back in time. But how do they know my name? Now is not the time to think, self- preservation interrupted. Run!

Elaine fled from her pursuers in the only direction open to her: towards the small iron gate. Sprinting across the courtyard and flinging her trembling body through the gap, she found herself in the midst of a semi-cultivated garden, although darkness and foliage hid its full glory. Hurling herself into shrubbery, she watched as Sworder set a guard at the gate, grabbed a flaming torch and commenced a search. Lying concealed within foliage, Elaine realised that capture was only a matter of time. The sound of voices filled the air, multiple torches illuminating the night.

Desperately struggling to control her breathing, Elaine felt the tug of the stone necklace as it caught on a branch, delivering a sharp snap that seemed horrifyingly loud. Calling on every ounce of courage learned from her miserable childhood, Elaine peeped between foliage. Sworder and his men continued their random search, apparently not having heard. She swiftly tucked the necklace inside her clothes. She had barely begun to experience relief when a sudden rustle almost stopped her heart. With every muscle tensing, she watched as a large, black nose pushed its way through shrubbery, sniffed along the earth and stopped between her eyes. The slimy protrusion emitted a snort of victory and withdrew, only to be followed by the mangy fur of a large and very dirty black dog.

The animal looked at her with curiosity, but had not yet decided to bark at his discovery. Allowing herself one small breath, Elaine slowly placed the palm of her hand on the mongrel’s head. When his teeth appeared, she presumed that she was about to be mauled. With no bite forthcoming, she peered more closely and saw an expression, much like a human smile, spreading across his canine features. Sitting firmly on his haunches, the dog then laid flat on his front paws, dropping his head low, as if in hiding from a pursuer. He did this repeatedly until Elaine understood the advice offered and huddled lower in the friendly foliage, whereupon the dog quietly growled his approval and disappeared back into the shadows.

I’m going mad, thought Elaine. What’s a dog going to do? Save me?

By now, Sworder had worked his way dangerously close to Elaine’s hiding place, only to catch a leaf with his torch. As shrubbery began to flame, he attempted to blow it out, but only succeeded in setting his tunic alight. Panicked slapping and stamping finally did the trick, after which he furtively glanced around to see if anyone had witnessed him being an idiot. His accompanying soldiers knew better than to incite the vicious and were already pointedly staring in the opposite direction. Once Sworder sidled away, hiding his burnt clothing, silent hilarity descended.

Elaine was too afraid to experience amusement. Her terror had been exacerbated by the sudden return of the shabby beast, carrying a large piece of cloth in his mouth which he promptly dropped on her head. Elaine opened the saliva-stained, white linen wrap to reveal a full-length cape and hood, heavily embroidered with red stars and mythical beasts. Quickly donning the disguise, she was relieved to find that the cape completely covered her modern clothing. When the dog reached up and snapped his teeth on her cuff, Elaine nearly let loose a squeal of surprise. He relentlessly tugged on her sleeve until she understood that he wanted her to follow him. Realising that she had no idea where she was or how to escape, Elaine, the organised, logical scientist, shelved her cynicism and followed a smelly, flea-ridden mutt wherever he wanted to lead. Pulling the hood over her head and willing her features to fade into shadow, Elaine regained her feet and followed in the paw prints of her rescuer.

As they passed the first searching soldier, a petrified Elaine was surprised when the man bowed in fear, eyes to the ground. When the dog growled and bared his teeth, the man rapidly moved away, giving them a wide berth. Elaine had no idea whose guise she had adopted, but clearly her canine friend had chosen well. This ritual of obeisance was repeated by every soldier, until the fugitive found herself back at the gate to the courtyard. Passing within inches of the posted guard, Elaine was relieved to see his eyes lower before the revered white robe.

Unfortunately, the singed Sworder chose that moment to return, instantly spotting the mangy black dog and hollering across the courtyard, What that dog doing here?

At the same instant, the guard’s eyes came to rest on Elaine’s sneakers. Confused eyes flicked back to her face. Recognition was instant. Be here! he shouted, whereupon the dog knocked him flat and delivered a savage bite to his arm, for good measure.

All the soldiers came in pursuit with Sworder crying out a completely redundant, Stop her!

Swivelling on his powerful back legs, the dog gently, but firmly, bounced his skull into the back of Elaine’s knees. She took the hint and, hitching up the cloak, began to sprint as fast as she could. Stretching out his long, powerful limbs, the dog overtook her and made a rapid swerve to the left, heading towards the castle. Surprised, but in no position to debate his decision, Elaine followed in his wake, pursuers snapping at her heels. They raced through a dimly lit stone archway with moonlight, barely visible, at its end. The canine leader let rip a shuddering howl, vying for attention with the metallic grinding that had suddenly begun. Peering through the darkness, Elaine’s attention was drawn to the great iron portcullis lowering into place, cutting off their escape route.

The dog scrambled under the pointed edges and clattered onto the rising iron drawbridge. With the angle becoming ever more acute, he turned to see where the strange woman was. With no choice but to follow, Elaine slid under the closing portcullis, utilising a manoeuvre she had only ever seen in American baseball movies.

Safe, she muttered, as the metal spikes slammed into their holes, behind her. The dog sounded forth with another howl that clearly said, ‘Get up, now!’

Elaine tried to scramble to her feet, but was instantly dragged prostrate again. Bewildered, she looked back to see the cloak firmly held beneath an iron spike. She made an attempt to free herself, but with no success. The dog wailed again, the pitch rising to a brain-melting level.

I know! she shouted, forgetting that she was addressing an animal. Slipping out of her comforting disguise, she left the torn cloak behind and pounded down the rising drawbridge, gathering all the