“I hear that. There must be stuff you miss though from the old days, ambitions for example?”
“In truth, Ed, when I was alive, all we had time to focus on was survival. We had a basic lifestyle with few creature comforts, continual exposure to disease, lack of hygiene and the constant threat of some sort of violent death. Sumptuary laws dictated our cloth and people were bled for their humours. I don’t really miss anything about it, although I do sometimes dream of a fine jug of mead,” replied Thomas.
“Yeah, doesn’t sound too good when you put it like that. Didn’t you have any ambitions though?”
“Ambition to survive, t’was all we had.”
“Doesn’t sound like it was that easy either. I’m not sure I would’ve taken too well to that lifestyle at all. Maybe ambition and bettering oneself is an idea of the modern age. I bet you regret not living in a more liberal age?”
“What you’ve never had you can’t really miss, Ed. I do wish I’d lived in a time when I could have witnessed those big flying metal birds though.”
“You mean planes I assume?”
“Yes, I think that’s what they’re called. The ones that carried people and products. Is it really true that their wings didn’t flap?”
“Yeah, that’s right, their wings didn’t flap, Thomas,” replied Ed, breaking out into a smirk.
“How can they possible have flown in that case? I am sure that I am the victim of some sort of joke here?”
“They have engines that propel them forward. Birds don’t have engines.”
“I never witnessed such a thing as an engine. It’s all as strange and unfathomable as the whole Transient situation.”
“Put like that, I guess you are right, the vast metal birds are indeed hard to believe, especially when you consider they could carry hundreds of people at once.”
“Really, that many? I hadn’t heard that. Are you certain, have you seen it for yourself?”
“Yes, Thomas, I’ve even been on one. It was an unforgettable experience, staring down at the earth from above the clouds.”
“Indeed, if it is true, then it would certainly have been a majestic experience,” marvelled Thomas as they continued on their way. Ed was soon enquiring further into how his new friend dealt with his environment.
“Was it easy to adjust to being here then?”
“By comparison, t’was like being in heaven.”
“There must have been some things you had to adjust to though?” enquired Ed with an awareness that he might have to make that decision one day.
“It took me a little time to realise that I was not living in an environment where people’s anger and lust was totally out of control. That I need not cast glances over my shoulder every time someone was behind me. That was liberating indeed.”
“I can imagine. Things did get a bit better down there over the last few centuries though. I guess one of the objectives of civilisation was restraining those primitive instincts and making people think more about their actions,” replied Ed with insight before adding, “What sort of life did you have out there? What was your profession, where were you born?”
“I was born in the countryside but do not recall much about my childhood. I think I repressed it. I do remember being beaten by my father numerous times but not much more than that. I left home, moved to
London
and did a cooking apprenticeship before moving on to one of the larger
London
bakeries. T’was nothing special. I never got married, had children or anything of the sort. Most importantly I managed to avoid getting press-ganged into the navy or army. That would truly have been a miserable fate. Anyway, I am content here now.”
“I can see that. I’m not sure it’s for me though.”
“Everyone feels differently. Verily, you have time to decide. T’is my advice to stay a while and rest. The quality of slumber here is truly wondrous, the finest you will ever have. There is a calmness that soothes in this place.”
“Really?” replied Ed as they turned tail and headed back into the tunnels.
“Oh look, Bob’s forgotten his helmet,” he exclaimed, as he picked it up and carried it along with them.
“Even if he lost it, he would wake up with it beside him come the morn. These are permanently part of our existence; we can never get be free of them. If you were to leave your jacket here and see what may befall it, it would forsooth be beside you in the morrow.”
“It goes against all my instincts. Besides, I was dreaming of dressing in it again when I was marooned as a tortoise.”
“I understand. Are you of a mind to meet some of the others, Ed? They are a little shy but I am certain you would receive a hearty welcome. We do not see a new face every day.”
“Maybe tomorrow, if that’s okay? I’m more than a bit fazed out by everything that’s gone on over the last few days. It’s all moving by so fast, it’s very disorienting and hard to come to terms with.”
“I understand your meaning. If t’is any help, that is something to which you become accustomed. The four-day transient window most certainly gives a feeling of time speeding by.”
“I’m sure. I still can’t come to terms with the idea that I’m actually dead though. I feel it just happened with so much unfinished and left to complete. Strangely it’s the little things that stay in my mind, the shower gel left in the bottle, the half-finished biscuits and the dentist appointment I always meant to make. I don’t want to leave it there, Thomas,” replied Ed, feeling a wave of despondency engulfing him.
A long considered silence ensued, Thomas not sure what he could say to comfort the individual as they continued their hike. It was Ed that broke the hush some two or three minutes later.
“Anyway, what language does everyone speak down here? Is it all English? Do they all have a ‘Tudor bent’ like you?”
“Not at all. English is the most common, but we have every language you can imagine here. It can be more than strange at first if we cannot communicate, but we usually muddle by or have someone translate. Having said that, we have so much time on our hands, many become multi-lingual. Forsooth, I thought I had already lost my ‘Tudor bent’, as you call it.”
“Same with Transients out there as well I guess, speaking the language they did when they were alive?”
“Exactly. T’is why you were fortunate indeed to meet an English speaker on your first encounter.”
“You’re right there, Thomas.”
“If you do decide to continue your journey, Ed, I would suggest you try and take your time at certain destinations. Take rest and sleep for a few days if you’re somewhere safe. You are at the beginning now but after a while, Transients really need to take stock.”
“I’ll bear that in mind, Thomas, thanks,” replied Ed, as they continued on their way. Ed began to reflect on what chance he might have to get his old life back. All these stories and far-fetched goings-on could easily be a dream, albeit a very nasty and realistic one. Maybe he’d had an accident and was in a coma in hospital, waiting for his brain power to propel him back to consciousness.
His mind churned away exhaustively at different scenarios. Tiredness was beginning to get the better of him and his walking had become heavy and weary. The whole episode had worn him down, being pulled from the flow with the crook and then all the journeying back and forth in the tunnels whilst being bombarded by unbelievable revelations. Ed knew he needed to sleep and gather his psychological powers to grasp the situation and get a little more empowered. Thomas was aware of Ed’s state and slowed his pace accordingly.
Some while later they arrived back at the cave-like pod.
“You can tell me something more of yourself on the morrow, Ed. You must be tired now and t’would be good for you to rest.”
“Thanks. See you tomorrow,” replied Ed as he handed the football helmet to Thomas and brushed past the curtain into the enclosure. He removed his jacket and jeans, perched down onto the edge of spongy bed, flicked off his shoes and laid down, exhausted. If every day was going to be like the last few then he was in for a very eventful time.
Chapter 7
Hotline back to the living
“Are you decent?”
“Are you decent?”
The voice started to penetrate Ed’s consciousness.
That was one fantastic night’s sleep
, he thought as he pulled the thin black silky sheet from over him and reached down to get his jeans, just as Thomas entered the space.
“Oops! I beg pardon, I mean to cause no offence, but you have not yet donned your trousers.”
“Don’t worry, I will have soon,” replied Ed as he pulled them on awkwardly, still sitting on the bed. He leant a little further forward, grabbed his shoes and put them on hurriedly.
“It does cause me much mirth – we are the only creatures bar mankind that do garb ourselves, even after we are dead,” exclaimed Thomas as he pulled his oversized hat from his head to reveal his scraggly reddish hair.
“Whatever. That hair’s timeless as well. If you have any scissors, I can trim it for you.”
“Leave thy jesting. T’is little point. Cut it off and it returns exactly as it was on your last day. T’is same with fingernails and all else that once grew from our noble bodies. T’is convenient indeed and might have been a good idea when we were alive, would you not agree, Ed?” bemoaned Thomas, as he came and sat on the adjacent stool.
“Well it would certainly have saved on hairdressing bills,” replied Ed with a smirk.
“Another thing, when I mentioned bodily functions yesterday, that includes intimate relations. Nought doing down below. No rumblings in the pantaloons or frolicking with Anne Boleyn. Shame, for she is comely forsooth, beauteous beyond compare.”
“You are always the bringer of brightness, light and sensitivity into my world. Saves me thirty minutes trying to get a Roger on to sort myself out anyway.”
“Is that how long it took you to become aroused?”
“Of course not, I’m being ironic, understated, and disingenuous. I was like a god in bed.”
“Did you listen to prayers all night then?” replied Thomas with a smirk.
“Shall we talk about something useful?” said Ed, as he glanced at his watch.
“Is it working?”
“What?”
“The timepiece, is it working?”
“Strangely, yes, but how would I know if it’s the right time?”
“The right time; who cares? There’s little concern for time in here, no mealtimes or workplace, no jousting, bear baiting or mead making. T’is no ‘right time’ as such that your clock can display. If it functions though, you can accurately tell when your four-day limit is due from the moment you arrive. Of course, you have not the benefit of such a timepiece when you are transient in an animal, but you could refer to wall clocks, church bells or the turns of day and night to guide you.”
“That’s true. Anyway, I’ve decided I’ll leave shortly, try and get back into the flow and move on. I’ll take the risk.”
“I understand. T’is no surprise to me. People rarely stay on their maiden visit. It’s only on the second or third times that the tranquillity becomes seductive. Not many people are given those second and third chances though.”
“I hear what you say but I’ll try my luck. I like you, Thomas but I’ll get bored here with nothing to do.”
“Tis not a problem. We will take you to where you need to be, and you will be ready to jump not long from now. There’s one other thing we need to discuss though.”
“What’s that then?”
“Do you recall I mentioned before that you had several choices?”
“Yes, go on,” Ed replied, enquiringly.
“T’is but rumour in truth. A long, long way down the tunnels, far away from here, t’is said an ancient Viking resides, that has been there for centuries. He is, so they say, a man of great veritable wisdom, and knows of some much more dangerous, but potentially rewarding transient streams.”
“Rewarding? How?” replied Ed inquisitively.
“From what I have been led to understand, he can influence where you arrive on each transience.”
“What, the location?”
“Not just that, apparently the time or even what animal you become.”
“Really?”
“Honestly, I know not for certain, t’is rumour from people travelling through.”
“Well, if it’s true that I’m dead and this isn’t a dream, could he transport me back in time for me to change events? Maybe I could…..” Ed was sharply interrupted.
“You have big ambitions, even in death. Be careful for what you wish. Tampering with the design of things is not our place. Much has been rumoured and exaggerated. I would suggest you accept your fate a little more humbly.”
“Shouldn’t we at least try and find out the truth, Thomas, to see what potential choices we have, and make our decisions based on that? If there’s a way I can get back and at least see what happened and what mistakes I made, that might help me in this environment. It couldn’t change the fact that I’m caught in this transient cycle and will continue to go round and round, one way or another,” enquired Ed.
“T’is true.”
“Well let’s go and see him then.”
“It is not so easy. It takes between two and three days to get there. That’s why your timepiece will be most useful. Then, if he can be persuaded to share his information, we do not know how long it would take to get from there to the other streams - if they even exist. T’is a big befuddle. If they did not, then you would lose your chance to jump, as it would be past the four-day point of no return. He is also, so I hear, very fussy about first-time Transients. He prefers to be consulted only by the experienced, apparently.”
“Oh. That’s a conundrum.”
“Tis my wise observation to suggest it is too late to embark on this journey now. My feeling is that you should risk another transience and see if you can perhaps be paused in the next jump back. Apparently, t’is possible: if you concentrate really hard at the time of death, you can partially cause a pause. I know not if this be true, but it will be something to bear in mind.”
Ed sat thoughtfully listening to Thomas, who continued.
“Another thing is that if you are paused and rescued, it is very likely you would not find yourself in this community. You may end up further along in a different community which might not have access to the area where the Viking lives. Maybe there would not be any speakers of English there. Tis a ‘conundrum’ as you call it.”
“At least I have my watch to identify a timeframe. Lucky I had that on.”
“Well there is always something positive in death,” joked Thomas as he departed into the tunnel.
“I will return in an hour or so. Then we will awake you for your jump.”
“Okay. See you then, and thanks again for all your help.”
Ed lay back down on the bed, discarding the silk sheet beside him. The silence was beautiful, crystal and pure, perfect and impenetrable. It gave such a marvellous platform for calm thoughts. He reflected on the past few days: Sam, the tortoise experiences, Thomas and the whole array of totally psychologically shocking things that had been revealed to him. He was somewhat surprised at how rational he had remained and how well he had adjusted to the fast changing situation. It was not an easy time and it really called for a calm head.
Soon a mumbling in the doorway pierced the silence. He couldn’t make it out but sat up and shouted, “Come in, come in,” expecting there to be a curious guest outside.
“Oh, hi, hello, hi. My name is George, George, ehm, George George,” exclaimed a nervous looking small man dressed in a cord dressing gown and tweed slippers. His thinning hair was heavily greased back over his head, desperate to hide a barren scalp. Thin matted yarns stuck steadfastly to the skin, revealing open patches of baldness underneath. Apart from that, he was clean-shaven, neat and tidy and Ed guessed him to be in his early fifties.
“George, or George George?” enquired Ed.
“George George I’m afraid. Very cruel of my parents,” explained George, as he ventured into the room.
“I think it is pretty unique. I like it,” said Ed reassuringly before adding, “I’m Ed, Ed Trew. It’s good to be talking normally without all that ‘Thou behest my Lord, for thou art the angel of perplexity’ stuff.”
“Pardon? Oh, you mean Thomas? Can take a bit of getting used to but he’s a sweet fella, don’t you think?” replied George as they shook hands before Ed moved back on the bed and sat cross-legged.
“Yes, he’s lovely. I didn’t mean anything nasty. I really meant to say I was glad to see you’re a more modern guy, with a more common tongue, George.”
“Common?” queried George as he perched delicately on the small stool opposite the bed.
“Common as in, ‘in common’, not common as in ‘commoner’ or common as ‘in or on Clapham Common.’”
“Oh, I see. Anyway, being a commoner ain’t so bad.”
“I know, I certainly am not landed gentry but I really didn’t mean ‘common’ in that sense.”
“It’s not a problem. Anyway, in answer to your question, I’m indeed a little more recent than Thomas. Popped my clogs in the late eighties. Slipped up in the kitchen in the middle of the night and hit my head on the stove. I should have turned the light on really. There are a lot more stupid ways to die though I suppose.”
“Yes, but they all end in death.”
“They certainly do. Anyway, I’m going to help you with Thomas. We’ll see you get off safely. It’s easy really, nothing much to worry about.”
“Thanks, George.”
“Not a problem. I’ve never jumped myself but I understand it usually goes fine, apart from, well, you know, the ones that fall all the way through the stream and get stuck out of reach of anyone who can help them from the doorways. That very rarely happens though.”
“Yes, Thomas told me about that.”
“I understand he told you about the Viking as well?”
“Yes, indeed. I’m interested in that. I want to do a couple more trips and then try to hunt him down if I can get paused again. Looks like I have time on my side for that anyway.”
“You certainly do and there’s a lot to find out. I don’t know if you realise yet, but in an animal transience you pretty much always end up somewhere within the locality of your death.”
“Well I didn’t know that.”
“Well take it as a fact. You do. However, time is flowing forward at about the same rate as we experienced on earth, so with each transience, you are four days further on from when you died, or if your transience was shorter, then an approximate equivalent.”
“Really? Carry on,” uttered Ed, as he uncrossed his legs and moved to the front of the bed with his feet down on the floor.
“Yes, yes. Anyway, as I understand it, the Viking knows of tunnels which present different options.”
“What sorts of options?”
“Well it’s very dangerous apparently, but time options, changing the time periods, even going backwards through time.”
“Backwards? As if it’s not complicated enough already, being propelled from animal to animal like a bouncing ball. I asked Thomas about that but he seemed a little reluctant, even scared to dabble with things. It would really be good to have some control over the transience destinations. Maybe I could go back, who knows, maybe even influence what happened and change things for the better. Are you sure all this gossip is true?”