I cough and end up holding my neck from the pain. When I place my hand on the case I leave a clear fingerprint in blood. I’m able to write just a couple of letters using blood from my neck before I run out. I look at Thomas and Jocie and want to cry over what I know I need to do. I don’t want to touch them but I have no choice. Wincing, I put my hand into the hole in Thomas’ chest and find more than enough blood.
Dipping my finger over and over like an old quill pen into an ink bottle I write “Tech explodes, send paper, pencil and light sticks. Dr. C.P.”
How dumb is it to write your initials? Who else could it be?
There’ll be a live audience to witness the bodies of Jocie and Thomas as they arrive back in our time and most of the world will know they’re back due to the sudden and unexpected power drain. There’ll be no way to hide what’s happened to them. Their cloaks are torn full of holes from the explosions caused by their enhancements but I try to cover them as best I can.
They deserve some final dignity.
I remove my cloak and use it to cover them both. In the dim light I can see small burns all over my body where the pieces of technology incorporated into the cloak exploded and burned.
Part of me wants to go back with them but the thought of waiting in the arena with their bodies isn’t very appealing so I begin to inspect the cave. It’s much larger than the size indicated by Dr. Davis and there’s a second chamber which must get filled up somehow over time because it isn’t there in the future.
The small shovel is intact so I work my way to the cave entrance and begin to dig my way out. I’ve been digging for just a few minutes when the cave becomes blindingly light from the transport. Luckily I was facing away so I’m not blinded for long. When my night vision returns I confirm that the bodies of Thomas and Jocie are gone from the arena. I imagine the pandemonium that’s happening in my time.
I notice there’s still blood clinging to the bars of the arena. That explains the two-thousand year old black stains on the “old” arena in the future. I wish they’d let me inspect the arena, maybe I would have asked more questions.
There’s nothing to do but dig. The material is sandy and loose so as I try to form a tunnel the walls keep caving in around me. This was supposed to be a job for three people but since the material is loose I work through a meter quickly.
So much for their estimate of just one meter of digging. I can’t wait to find out what else they’re wrong about.
As I’m approaching two meters the whole tunnel collapses. I’m going to have to dig up and along the solid rock to avoid cave-ins. There’s no telling how many feet of digging will be required to escape.
I lie back on the pile of dirt that I’ve already moved. It’s quite large and will start to spill into the arena eventually. The tech guys won’t be happy to use large amounts of power to transport dirt forward in time and as I start to adjust the pile it hits me. The second chamber is full in the future because I’m going to fill it up as I dig myself out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Does the fact that the chamber is full in the future mean I’m going to succeed?
I estimate it would take a small dump truck to fill the second chamber, so it’s clear I’m going to be here for a while. I still have the metal case where the food and water was stored so I take out those supplies and use the case to carry loads of dirt. I’m dumping one load when there’s a brilliant flash of light behind me indicating something has been sent through time.
The arena now contains a box of light sticks, additional food and water, a large sheaf of paper, an antique pencil, a small knife and an envelope with a letter inside. The letter is unsigned but was most likely directed from behind the scenes by Henry Portman. It’s done with remarkably poor penmanship, probably because whoever wrote it has never used a paper and pencil before.
Dear Cephas:
The world is very sad about the loss of Thomas and Jocie but overjoyed that you survived. Everyone wants to know how you escaped death. Please use the paper and pencil to write a letter to the world. Have you dug out yet? Tell us what you need and it’s yours, the world is behind you. We’ll transport in one hour.
That was the letter Henry told the team to show to the media. There’s a second sheet I’m sure he didn’t share.
Cephas, I expect you to complete your work despite the setback. Now that you can’t get evidence on video we’ve doubled our campaign to make sure the world views you as the most trusted man of our time. Don’t let me down.
Henry
A setback? Two people are dead and to him it’s just a setback?
I start a response.
People of the world:
Thank you for your kind thoughts. As you’ve seen, modern technology explodes when travelling through time. I’m sure the scientists will uncover the reason. I ask you to not blame these amazing men and women for the deaths of our beloved Thomas and Jocie, there was simply no way to predict this would happen.
There are two reasons I’m still alive. First, the only enhancements in my body were two small chips in my neck that were placed there when I was very young. The chips were close to the surface so I wasn’t killed but the explosion has rendered me mute. I’ve stopped the bleeding and hope to regain my voice in time. The second reason I’m alive is due to the heroic sacrifice of Thomas and Jocie. As they stood facing each other their bodies shielded me from the force as their enhancements exploded.
I’ve begun digging out but the process is going to take longer than expected, perhaps several days. With the world behind me I’m confident in success.
Cephas
P.S. It seemed only right to cover Thomas and Jocie with my cloak. Can you send another? It’s quite cold in this cave.
My true thoughts about Thomas and Jocie’s motives for rearranging how we stood in the arena aren’t important anymore so I might as well contribute to the myth that they were both heroes. I’m truly sad about their loss, particularly Jocie.
At the last moment she believed and hoped to be saved. I pray she was.
I then write a short note to Henry.
Henry, the dig estimates were wrong and I need to move several tons of material to get out. Have the techs estimate the oxygen supply and see what they can do for me.
Cephas
With nothing else to do I return to digging. Now that I’m digging upwards to follow the cave roof the going is fast, all I need to do is dislodge the loose soil and let it fall around me. Once enough has fallen to bury my feet I move it to the other chamber then start over again. If I’m lucky it’ll be a constant angle upwards and I’ll be out. If I’m unlucky then the cave roof is arched and I’ll need to dig first up and then down to find the surface.
I dig and move dirt in an endless series of trips back and forth. I give up counting how many. I estimate it took at least two hours to dig upwards around seven meters when I finally hit the top of the cave and see that it’s indeed going to curve back downwards. The second chamber is over half full now which I suppose means I’m now half done. My hands are cut and bleeding so I wash and bandage them and lie down for a short rest.
I must have fallen asleep because when I wake up I see there’s a new cloak and letter in the arena. Under the cloak I find something that looks like a centuries old gas mask. I read the first letter:
From the People of the World
Cephas, your courage and perseverance are an inspiration to us all. Please take a moment to tell us what’s happening.
Henry is laying it on thick in his public notes. From Henry I get the following:
All the air tanks we have use electronic pressure controls that we worry will explode in transport so we’re looking to find or build one with a manual valve. In the meantime the mask has a carbon dioxide scrubber that should help. Tech guys say you’ll be out of air in about twelve more hours. They also say you must be wrong about the dig distance because you have no place to put several tons of dirt and the cave was empty when they found it. <
br /> Henry
I forgot to mention the second chamber to the scientists in my previous note forward. I hope this means I have something closer to twenty hours of air remaining. I’m about to start a new letter when there’s a flash in the arena. I must have slept for an hour because they just attempted to pull a note forward. They’re going to panic when they get nothing.
I write a quick note:
People of the World,
Thank you for all you’re doing, the mask and cloak are greatly appreciated. I’m sorry to have missed the last transport window, I was asleep from exhaustion.
Cephas
P.S. My hands are cut and bleeding from digging. Some work gloves would be helpful.
To Henry I write:
There’s a second chamber with an entrance opposite the first. That’s where I’m putting the dirt. Air supply isn’t good.
Cephas.
There’s nothing to do but keep digging. My note disappears sometime when I’m working but since I’m now digging downwards in a steady arch following the cave ceiling I don’t see the flash. Digging downward makes the going much slower since I now have to haul the dirt-filled case up the incline and then into the cave. Ironically, having the handle that I smashed off the case would have made the work much easier.
I’ve extended the tunnel downward by about five meters when I hear a hissing sound coming from the main chamber. When I get back I see what looks like a scuba tank sitting in the arena bleeding off its air supply. The chamber air already feels a little fresher. I’m about to move it out of the arena when I see someone has written “Don’t touch” on the side. There’s a note on the floor so I carefully grab it and read it.
From the People of the World
Dear Cephas,
Here is a gift of clean air which we send as a symbol of the clean future that you are working so hard provide to the world.
The note from Henry says:
Couldn’t find an old regulator so rigged this tank to have a slow leak. Tech guys had one explode so warned you not to touch. Everyone is eating up your “People of the World” letters. It caused quite a fuss when you missed a transport window. I could get you elected President when you come back. Keep it up, we have the world right where we want them.
Henry
I want to write a letter back that says “Where the hell are the damned work gloves?” but instead I start a new letter with a bloody fingerprint on the paper. That should remind them.
People of the World
Thank you for the air, it reminds me that we breathe as one in this important task. My tunnel is approaching twelve meters in length now so I hope to soon be out.
Cephas
I choose not to respond to Henry.
I don’t want to be President. I don’t want to manipulate the world. I just want to see the sky.
After another eight hours the second chamber is nearly full of dirt. I hope this means I’m almost free. Another air tank arrived about four hours ago but the air supply is still getting thinner by the minute and my thoughts are getting slower. I crawl to the end of the tunnel but just can’t bring myself to start digging again because my eyelids are so heavy. I know this is a stupid place to take a nap. There’s very little air space in front of me but I don’t have the energy to crawl backwards either. I close my eyes, planning to shut them for just a minute.
“Cephas, wake up,” I hear Martha’s voice say.
“Martha? Where am I?”
“You must get out Cephas. The air is almost all gone.”
I smile. It’s so nice to hear her voice.
The smile fades as I wake up and realize it was a dream. The air is very heavy and I feel dizzy. I’ve been asleep for so long the light stick near my face has gone dim. I can feel beads of sweat forming on my face.
It would be easier to dig if it wasn’t so darned hot in here.
I reach up and touch the dirt above me. There’s no way my breath alone heated it this much, the dirt is hotter than my hand. I must be close to the surface. I start hacking forward and upward with desperate strokes of the shovel, not caring about the dirt falling around my head and burying alive me where I lay. Thirty centimeters later my shovel penetrates further than it should and when I pull it back I’m flooded by warm sunlight and fresh air. I lay there for a long time just letting the oxygen fill my body.
I can’t wiggle through the small hole so I’m forced to fill the case and take another load back to the cave. When I get there I see there was a transport while I was asleep and there’s a pair of work gloves waiting for me. Better late than never I suppose. Henry’s note from the People of the World says “We raise our hands to you Cephas”.
I raise my hand to you too Henry, but with one finger lifted.
I write a quick note back to the People of the World in large letters “I’m finally free!”
I sit and contemplate the words I’ve written. For the first time in my life I really am free. There are no cameras watching me. Nobody can monitor what I do or say. Nobody here has an agenda that involves manipulating or killing me.
I drop the case with no handle beside the arena for the scientists to find in twenty-two hundred years and crawl out into the open air.
Is this what it feels like to roll back a stone and walk out of your own tomb?
Chapter Twenty-Three
The area immediately surrounding my new cave entrance looks nothing like it does in my own time. Apparently a couple thousand years and a high yield nuclear warhead will do that. I’ve emerged three quarters of the way up a low bluff that’s green with low shrubs and grasses doing their best to grow among the rocks and sand. I take just three steps before I trip and stumble in a small furrow created by a recent rain washing down the hillside.
Rain? Why didn’t I study the weather patterns? Is it always green? Or does recent rain give some indication of what month it might be?
Instead of getting up I crawl to the nearest shrub and spend an hour lying in its shade to rest and heal. My neck still hurts from the chips exploding but I have no mirror to inspect the damage. Luckily the first aid kit included powerful antibiotics so I don’t need to worry about an infection.
The land and sky around me show no evidence of people living in the area, not even a distant curl of smoke to indicate a cooking fire. I have enough food for a couple of days but my water supply is low from the effort of digging. There’s a ridgeline to my north so I decide to walk to it and see if it marks the edge of a valley with a stream in it. Within a half of a kilometer I find myself wishing for a hover bus. Our daily training hikes at NASA were on nice smooth roads, not steep, rocky angles. When I crest the ridge I’m not disappointed. Below I can see lines of thick green vegetation snaking their way down the mountain indicating where I can find water.
The sun tells me that it’s late morning so I decide to make the trek into the valley. Someone did their homework because the tech team provided us with three imitation water skins that shouldn’t look out of place. The downward hike proves to be further than I’d estimated but I’m soon rewarded with the sound of trickling water. There isn’t a good spot to fill the skins so I follow the stream downward until I find a nice shaded pool.
As I bend over to fill the first skin I get a look at myself in the water. I look awful. My face and hair are caked with dirt and the bandage on my neck has bled through so there’s black blood visible. I carefully remove the bandage to get a look at the wound and then wish I hadn’t. There are two ragged tears in my skin where the chips blew out. If I were back home they would warrant laser cauterization. It’s a miracle the explosions didn’t tear open the major blood vessels in my neck. I try to speak but I can only make a raspy cough-like sound. My vocal cords are at least bruised if not destroyed altogether.
So much for being able to speak the ancient languages.
I finish filling the skins and add a sterilization tablet to each. I need to wait at least fifteen minutes before the water is safe to dr
ink so I use the time to clean myself by wading into the water cloak and all. I only have a small amount of soap from the first aid kit so I decide to conserve it for use in cleaning and dressing the wound on my neck. Even so, the cool water is refreshing and sufficient to remove most of the grime.
How would Jocie have handled being so dirty?
Using the reflection of the pool I clean my neck with the sterilized water and dress it with a clean bandage. It’s sort of like tying my necktie at home so I find myself falling into my usual mirror “routine”.
Are hands just a useful adaptation? Are lips and tongues evolved from random mutations? Or were they part of a grand design?
I make some of my favorite Cult Hunter facial expressions in the reflection. There’s no telling which ones will be handy when I start to meet people. Will the people here respond to my practiced Cult Hunter “death mask” with fear like the people of my own time? Or will I get a completely different response? Maybe even laughter?
Although I’ve been avoiding looking at my eyes, when I catch a glimpse of them I’m the one who wants to laugh. The twinkle is still there and now looks ridiculous to me staring out from behind the death mask. I try many other looks but no matter what mask I choose to wear I can’t change that twinkle.
Maybe it’s not mine to change?
When I’m finished I look up at the ridge I need to climb to get back to my cave and the very thought of it makes me sleepy. My cloak is still wet so I hang it over a bush then lay in a sunbeam near the side of the pool and am soon fast asleep.
***
I wake to the sound of nearby children’s voices and further off the sounds of sheep. The kids are speaking in Aramaic. I crack my eyelids just enough to see that they’re crouched about fifteen meters away and looking at me.