Chapter 25
Dr. Barnes’s Failsafe
Matt was still dazed, but the scene by the fire trickled back into focus. Although his limbs felt like rubber, and his head like a brick, he felt more alive than at any other time in his life. Sarah supported him as he staggered from the ground.
“I think that was a wormhole in the quantum foam. I guess Dad is still helping us.”
“Never doubted it for a minute.” She smiled and patted down a tuft of his unruly hair.
Matt glanced at her crookedly and raised an eyebrow.
“Okay. Maybe for a minute or two.”
“I wonder where or when the arrows and bullets ended up.”
“Probably either a long time ago when no one could use them,” said Sarah, “or in the future when they’d be obsolete.”
“That would be perfect,” he said. He turned towards the chiefs; they backed up a step. Their pipes had fallen to the ground and their mouths hung open.
“What are you?” asked Iroquet.
Segoleh simply stared, unable to speak.
“As I told you, Iroquet,” said Matt, “I’m from the future. We have inventions . . . tools that can’t be explained well in this day and age. They can change the way things happen. But we can’t change everything. The rest is up to you. Make peace now. Bury the hatchet. Isn’t that what you do?”
Iroquet and Segoleh both nodded.
“Do you think I’m lying anymore?”
“No,” they said simultaneously.
“Good,” said Matt. He grabbed Iroquet’s hatchet from his pouch and slammed it into the ground beside the warriors’ feet. “Now you need to return to your own people and convince them, too. It’ll be difficult, but it may be the most important thing you’ll ever do. After that—well, you’ll have to watch the white men and try to outsmart them.”
Iroquet grunted. “My people will not like it, but they will listen to me.”
Segoleh said, “The spirit of my ancestor lives again in me. I will convince them, just as he did.”
“Great,” said Matt. “Then our talks are finished.” As soon as he’d uttered the words, his shoulders slumped and his knees buckled. He plunked back down on the ground.
Sarah dropped down beside him. “Are you okay?”
“Not really. I feel kind of dizzy. What do we do now?”
“I have no idea. At least we’re together.” She scanned the dusky sky. “Your dad still has to be around here, somewhere, protecting us, too.”
“Some time,” said Matt.
“Right,” said Sarah. “Aren’t you happy, though? You just orchestrated what may have been the most crucial peace talks of this day and age.”
“I might have changed world history for good. Maybe I saved the First Nations, maybe I didn’t. Or maybe I made it impossible for the two of us to be born.”
“Yeah,” said Sarah. “I was worried about that. But your ‘greater good’ argument won me over. Besides, I don’t think we would be here, if that were the case.”
“Do you really believe that we would have dissolved if we’d changed how or if we were born?”
A light breeze ruffled Sarah’s hair. “I don’t know,” she said. “It makes sense to me.”
Matt shook his head. “I doubt that we changed anything to do with us. We travelled through a wormhole into another universe, right? We might have changed history in this universe, but not our own.”
“But remember we read that some are so close together only a photon or an atom can be different. What if our alternate selves—you know, Matt and Sarah in another universe—were sent back in time, too? What if they changed history in our universe?”
Matt paused as he swirled the possibilities around in his head. “You may be right. But if they did, we’d never know about it. And we’re still here, anyway.”
Chogan, who’d sat paralyzed on the ground after everything he’d witnessed, shook off his daze, struggled to his feet and came towards them. He placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “What are you two talking about?” He sank to his knees beside her. He was still looking doubtfully at his hand where he’d been stripped of his knife.
“We’re talking about what happens next,” said Sarah.
Chogan gestured to the two chiefs who were deep in conversation. “They will set up a grand meeting of all the chiefs.”
“I know,” said Sarah. “I meant, what happens to us?”
“That’s simple,” said Chogan. “You’ll come to live with me. You are my family now.”
“What about your uncle?” asked Matt, not at all convinced. “Will he want us around?”
“He won’t have a choice. You are still my friends, despite the foolishness you’ve begun here.”
“It means the survival of your tribe, Chogan,” said Sarah. “And all the people native to this land. It’s much more important than revenge.”
Chogan gritted his teeth. “What about you, Matt? Do you still want revenge for what was done to your father?”
Matt couldn’t meet Chogan’s eyes. He looked off into the woods.
“I thought so. Well, perhaps we will both get satisfaction someday.” Chogan looked across the river at the stunned warriors and the befuddled soldiers. “Shall we return to camp?”
Matt tried to get to his feet. He teetered, but Chogan and Sarah grabbed his arms to steady him. They supported him between them, a familiar experience, until they reached the canoes. Chogan flipped over the nearest boat and helped Sarah lower Matt into the hull. There he was, stationed in the middle again, but at least sitting up this time, and not bleeding.
Chogan and Sarah stepped in after him, buttressing him from in front and behind. They swiftly paddled to the opposite shore, where the Algonquin warriors paced, waiting for word of the talks between Iroquet and Segoleh. Chogan took them aside in what looked like a huddle in modern-day football, while the two time travellers stayed in the canoe. Excited whispers and a series of “oos” and “ahs,” along with a couple of “huhs?” filtered from the group as Chogan explained or tried to explain the peace talks and Matt’s crazy weapon disposal device. When Matt stepped on shore, the men retreated, clearly mystified by him. But one person didn’t.
Champlain thrust between the warriors and stuck his nose in Matt’s face.
“You are a devil!” he exclaimed. “An English devil, at that. You won’t get away with this. Jamais!”
“Really,” said Matt. “I think I just did. So maybe you won’t be able to claim that you discovered Canada. Because you see, it was already here long before you or Cartier or Cabot or even the Vikings set foot on it. If it belongs to anyone, it belongs to them.” He indicated the Algonquin with an outstretched hand.
Champlain sneered, but he couldn’t dispute Matt’s words. The ring of them was la verité. Matt turned away from the explorer and traipsed up the hill with his companions. A few metres down the path, he cast a glance over his shoulder, just to be sure the man wasn’t following him, tempted to stick a knife between his ribs. In this day and age, he was starting to expect it. Instead, Champlain flicked a rude hand gesture at him, but he was used to that.
“I’m good, aren’t I?” said Matt, his weaving walk contradicting his proud words.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” said Sarah.
“Who, me? It’s not every day you get to change the world.”
Sarah nudged him with her elbow. “I used to wonder about you, but now I know that you’re just a boy with a very brilliant father.”
“Just a boy,” scoffed Matt. “I may be a boy, but not just a boy. I have my father’s genes, don’t you know.”
Sarah looked at Matt’s pants. “They look small for your dad.”
“Genes, not jeans, you idiot.”
Sarah’s smile faded. “I wish you could use them and get us home.”
Matt couldn’t keep his grin, either. “I think the only person who can bring us home is Nadine. I'm sure she won’t be doing that.”
Sarah turn
ed away. There were black smudges under her eyes. Her lips trembled. “I miss my father,” she said. “I even miss Ottawa.”
“Hey, Sarah,” said Matt. “We’re in Ottawa. Look around you.” Matt planted his feet in the middle of the camp. “This right here is the Centre Block of the Parliament Buildings. We might even be standing in the House of Commons.”
Sarah sniffled and wiped away the tears. “I can even hear their screeching debates right now.”
“See, there’s your dad across from the Prime Minister giving the government a run for its money. I’ll bet he’s the strongest voice for the opposition.”
Sarah gazed at the wigwam to the west. “He doesn’t let them get away with their sleazy plans. He’s their conscience.”
“I know he is.”
“Do you think he’s still there?” asked Sarah. “Do you think North America will be the same after what you’ve started?”
“No, I don’t,” said Matt. “Not the same. Better, I hope. And yes, I think he’s still there. It’s almost like I can hear him calling you.”
Sarah nodded. “I hear it, too.”
The breeze swept around them, a wild gust that made their clothes flap against their skin. It carried voices with it, particularly a strong, deep voice.
“Sarah? Sarah! Where is she? She has to be here somewhere. Where did they go?”
A nasal voice responded—a voice that Matt could never mistake. “They’re not here, Donald. I swear to you. They haven’t been near the place.”
Sarah’s father growled. “They’ve been gone for hours. Aren’t you even worried?”
“Of course I am. But sometimes Matt wanders, you know. He always comes back. I’m sure there’s no need to worry.”
“Well, Sarah never wanders. She always comes home, and she has the sense to call me if she can’t. So there is a reason to worry.”
Matt met Sarah’s eyes.
“This is real,” she said.
“It sure sounds like it. Maybe we can hear through the portal. Maybe they’re in the lab.”
Another voice intruded on the Algonquin camp.
“Good evening, Nadine. Failsafe activated.”
“Computer.” It was Nadine’s voice again. “Power down.”
“Unable to comply. Failsafe is fully engaged.”
“What are you talking about?” said Nadine.
“What is this thing?” asked Sarah’s dad.
Sarah gripped Matt’s arm. “They are in the lab. If we can hear them, maybe they can hear us.” She yelled, “Dad! Dad! We’re in the machine.”
The Algonquin women had paused in their activities, their brows creased. The children gazed up at the sky with wide eyes.
“They’re in there,” said Sarah’s father. “I just heard them.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Donald. As I told you outside, this is a security-controlled lab with a retinal-scan lock. No one but Dr. Barnes and I could get in.”
“Sarah,” he called. “What is this here? Why it looks like Sarah’s boot.”
“Now how did that get in here?”
“Good question,” said her father.
“Dad, the machine! Behind the door in the corner!” cried Sarah.
“What’s behind that door?”
“Why don’t you have a look?” said Nadine.
Matt and Sarah froze at the purring note in her voice. Sarah shouted, “Watch out, Dad! IT’S DANGEROUS!”
A click echoed through the camp. The air around them thickened like pudding.
“What’s this?” asked her father. “It looks like some sort of X-ray machine with hot plates. What have you been cooking, Nadine?”
“Children, Donald. I’m Hansel and Gretl’s worst nightmare.”
Sarah’s father gasped.
The breeze was swirling now, and snapping with charged particles. They could see her dad’s face.
“DAD, GET OUT OF THERE!” screamed Sarah. “She’s going to send you to the past! GET OUT!”
His eyes grew enormous, but he reached for her instead of running away. Sarah shuddered beside Matt, expecting her dad to be tossed down among them. Instead, a strange thing happened. Her backpack rose magically in the air.
The metallic voice vibrated through them.
“Failsafe fully engaged.”
The Algonquin women and children whimpered and shrieked. They ran for the cover of their wigwams or scrambled down the hill in a frantic effort to escape.
“What’s going on?” asked Sarah. Her backpack twirled even higher.
“What’s in your backpack, Sarah?” asked Matt.
“Just my mitts, scarf, and my one boot.”
A thought buzzed in his brain as the air spun around them like a tornado. “It’s your boot, Sarah—our totem. Put it on.”
“What?”
“Put the boot on.”
Sarah gave him a befuddled look, but quickly obeyed as the wind whipped her hair in her face. She slipped the backpack from her shoulder. It rose skyward like a hot-air balloon. Matt grabbed it and helped her pull it back down. They unzipped the bag and the boot flew upward. Matt pounced on it, forcing it to the ground. “Put it on,” he yelled over the screech of the wind.
Sarah kicked off her moccasin and thrust on the boot. Matt held onto her backpack.
The wind howled and raced around them
At the edge of the tornado, Chogan’s face appeared through flailing dust. “Sarah!” he cried. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” said Sarah.
He leaped closer into the eye of the storm. “Sarah.” He grabbed her arms. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” said Sarah, as the wind literally picked her up off her feet. “I think we’re leaving. I’ll miss you, Chogan.”
“Non,” he said, clutching her arms tightly as if he could hold her there.
“Failsafe error,” the computer said. The wind was dying down.
“You have to let go,” said Matt. “You have to let us go home.”
Chogan shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. A hand shot through the gale and seized his arm. Then the natty red uniform of the explorer emerged from the twister. “Let them go,” said Champlain. “They don’t belong here.”
Matt blinked and cocked an eyebrow.
Champlain met his eyes.
“You have courage, boy,” he said. “Whatever you have done, I respect that. Go in peace.”
Matt saluted and smiled. Champlain pulled Chogan from the portal with a determined yank. The boy looked heartsick, but he nodded gravely at Matt. His eyes brimmed with tears as he looked at Sarah one last time. Then the dust swirled and erased his face.
A bolt of lightning cracked through the haze and dust. Electricity zinged through Matt’s body. It jumped from Sarah to him and back again before they were snatched from the Algonquin camp.