The Loved and the Lost (15 page)

“Call me!” a lone girl called out. “I'm real!”

“Quiet please, quiet!” Demos cried.

“As for Hansum,” Elder Barnes continued.

“Hansum, Hansum, Hansum!” many in the crowd chanted.

“Hansum was under much stress because of seeing his wife being attacked . . .” Elder Cynthia said with some compassion.

“Boo!” shouted the faction in the crowd who thought Hansum was being put through unnecessarily harsh situations. “I love you, Hansum!” shouted another lone female voice.

“Kick Feltrino's ass!” a male shouted.

“No fault was found with any of your actions. Since then, you have shown a most amazing recovery from your wounds, and I would like to add that you have scored highest in all your time travel classes. We wish you well in your pursuits.”

“No thanks to Arimus!” someone cried.

“And as for Arimus . . .” Elder Barnes paused. The crowd, amazingly, went almost completely quiet. “For comment on his part in the matter, I pass the floor to my 31
^st
-century colleague, Elder Cassian Olama.” The old man did not stir. “Elder Cassian Olama?” Finally Elder Barnes tapped him physically on the shoulder. He bounced awake and shouted.

“Come to order! Come to . . .” and then realized where he was. He looked at Arimus, who touched his own temple.

“Oh yes, our . . . my decision.”

“No crosstalk!” said the younger 24
^th
-century Parmatheon Olama. “Arimus is secretly communicating with a Council member,” he complained.

Old man Olama cleared his throat. “Thank you, Elder . . . Cynthia,” he said slowly. “Charming . . . girl. Charming. I am . . . pleased . . . so pleased to . . . to be here. Anywhere, in fact. As for judgment, umm, on . . . Arimus . . . yes, Arimus . . . um, all is well. No fault found. Proceed, young man . . . carry on,” he said waving his hand dismissively. “Was I to veto something?” and he fell back asleep.

A rumble of disapproving catcalls and crosstalk washed over the amphitheater, including from Elder Parmatheon. He stood up and shouted while pounding the table. Even his own A.I., an oversized soap bubble, came over and begged him to calm down, but Parmatheon poked it while continuing to yell along with the crowd. The bubbly A.I. popped, only to immediately reform itself and keep begging its human to sit. Finally, Elder Barnes spoke very loudly.

“And now for our decision on Hansum's controversial plan to change history and save Guilietta.” Not surprisingly, the amphitheater went very quiet. “Thank you. Hansum, would you please stand? Thank you. First, let me say that over the past few days, the Council has received millions, millions of messages from all over the planet and beyond, offering comments and opinions on this controversial situation.”

“Save Guilietta!” a lone voice cried from the crowd, followed by a rumble of assenting voices.

“Please, citizens,” Elder Barnes begged. “Give us five minutes. I think most of you will be satisfied.” The crowd relented. “As you know, the 24
^th
-century Time Travel Council is charged with making decisions about what our time travelers can and can't do. But we are new to this and our associates from the future,” she looked over at the Elder Cassian Olama, who was still gently snoring away, and then at Arimus, “they will not, apparently cannot, give us guidance. This makes our deliberations very difficult, but we press on.

“An application has been put to us by Hansum to go back and make changes to the past, the aim being to save his wife, Guilietta. This raises a great many questions, moral, legal, and practical. Morally, the young lady has been dead for a thousand years, so why is it a question? If we save her, she would still be dead in our time. Legally, though, she is the lawfully-wedded spouse of one of our citizens, and there is international and inter planetary law stating that governments must help a citizen save their legal family. Legal opinion suggests we must transfer this concept to time travel.

“Now, from a practical perspective, Elder Arimus has said his team has tried and failed to save Guilietta della Cappa several times. But Elder Arimus has also commented that Hansum's proposal has merit, though it also has a high degree chance of changing the future, our present, if it's not done perfectly. I would now ask Hansum to address this Council and tell us the details of his plan. When we hear it, we shall make our decision. Hansum?”

Hansum rose and faced the Council.

“Thank you Elder Barnes, and thank you to the entire Council for considering my application. I know the situation that my friends and I found ourselves in last year has drawn interest from around the globe, as well as from our settlements in space. We all understand that the true reason for us originally being taken back in time was to help youth everywhere appreciate the hard-won advantages of modernity, and to help society learn not to repeat the mistakes of the past. But there was some unexpected magic that happened when Shamira, Lincoln and I went back in time. We met people and we learned to love them. Me especially. I fell in love . . . with Guilietta.” He said her name and paused, which caused it to resonate in the perfectly constructed amphitheater. Then, without a hint of quaver in his voice he added loudly, “I fell in love with Guilietta and I want to save her as soon as the blackout ends.” You could hear a pin drop in the amphitheater. “So, this is how I propose to save my wife.”

The thirty thousand humans in the amphitheater, over a quarter billion more in their homes, plus every A.I. on the planet, listened in rapt attention to Hansum's proposal. His unprecedented situation had captured the imagination of the whole of Earth's sentient population. His plan was a simple one, so didn't take long to tell.

At the heart of it was the goal of reclaiming lost love. The key was a sacrifice so great, so unselfish and so poignant that, when Hansum finished and took his seat, the crowd was left in shocked silence. The first sounds heard from the audience were a few sobs. Then applause started. Then more. Shouts of “Bravo” and “Brilliant” and “Yes” punctuated the growing din and soon the amphitheater was a roar of clapping, stomping and shouting. Demos came forward to try to calm the crowd. With no success in that regard imminent, Elder Barnes tried to call for a vote. She tapped her temple, trying to communicate with each Council member, but it was apparent that even that was impossible with the tumult around them. She literally couldn't hear herself think. Finally she got up to solicit each vote individually, which made Elder Parmatheon jump to his feet and dog her heels, making sure she didn't influence the votes he thought he held. Finally, at the far end of the table, Cynthia Barnes calculated the numbers in her mind, and then walked back to her chair. Parmatheon stomped his foot and scowled, especially at two of the members, and then sat down hard on his seat next to the Council chairwoman.

“The decision has been reached!” Demos shouted to the noisy crowd, and in a few seconds there was a brief oasis of quiet. Elder Barnes stood up.

“The motion for Hansum to execute his plan — has passed eight to four,” she said simply, and then smiled. The crowd went wild again, exploding with a roar even louder than before. The story of Romero and Guilietta had truly captured the imagination of a whole civilization.

Hansum, Shamira, Lincoln and Kingsley jumped out of their chairs and hugged each other. Thousands from the crowds surged forward but were denied access to the stage by a force field. This did not damp-en their enthusiasm. They just stood and continued cheering.

The face of each of the teens was projected above the crowd, each beaming with joy. Hansum directed his friends to hold hands and stand in a line across the stage, then raise their arms in collective victory. The crowd continued to roar and finally Demos gave up trying to quiet the frenzied citizens. Most of the Council members were smiling in amusement, but a few, especially Elder Parmatheon Olama, sat scowling.

Hansum pointed at Arimus, asking him to join them, but Arimus declined with a wave and just stood by Elder Barnes, his hands behind his back, smiling and rocking on his heels.

The applause went on for nearly twenty minutes. Finally, Elder Barnes shouted something into Arimus's ear and he came to the teens who were still taking in all the adulation.

“I am requested to use my advanced technology
and site transport you away from here.
To Lincoln's home we'll disappear.”

Hansum nodded, looked at his companions and smiled. He turned and waved to the crowd, putting his hand to his heart to say thank you, and then he bowed. The teens all put their hands on Arimus's A.I. robe, waved one last time and, with the roar of the crowd still in their ears, winked away.

The silence back in Lincoln's bedroom was deafening, especially since the teens still vibrated with the energy put out by the exultant throng.

“Now that's what I call zippy!” Lincoln laughed.

“And that's what I call understatement,” Kingsley added.

“Congratulations, Hansum,” Shamira said. “You did it.”

Hansum just stood there, his eyes bright and steely, but reserved.

“That was just step one,” he said with conviction. “Now the real work begins.”

“We're with ya, pal,” Lincoln said. “All the way.”

“What's next?” Shamira asked.

“We continue training and studying the past recordings of what we went through, making sure our plan is perfect,” Hansum answered. “We do that till the blackout's over and then we go.”

“If you leave as soon as the blackout ends,” Shamira said, “Kingsley and I won't be able to go. We've been restricted. I'm so sorry, Hansum.”

“Hey, I'll still need your help training and working out the logistics, if you can make the time from your studies.”

Shamira and Kingsley looked at each other and smiled broadly.

“I'm gonna train you so hard,” Kingsley said, “you might even be in good enough shape to play rugby.”

Hansum flew through the air, but not for long. The sand greeted his back. Again. And his momentum kept him rolling till he was face down. He looked up, sand sticking to his sweaty face and hoots of laughter ringing in his ears.

“You're getting better, bro,” Lincoln guffawed, “At landing!”

Hansum got to his knees, spitting out sand and brushing it off his shirtless torso. Kingsley's huge, outstretched hand was there to help him to his feet. Hansum took it but, as he pulled himself up, he immediately fell back and locked his legs around one of Kingsley's. He then rolled his body viciously forward. Kingsley's knee buckled and Hansum twisted himself even more, adding forward motion to Kingsley's fall. As the big man went down, Hansum continued rolling. He needed to keep Kingsley's leg bent and off the ground. When Kingsley's face and outstretched hands met the sand, Hansum sprang to his knees and lunged for Kingsley's feet and shins, bending one over the other in a leg lock. Hansum's face contorted with the strain of twisting tree trunk-sized calves together.

“He's got ‘im now,” Lincoln laughed.

“Do you yield?” Hansum shouted.

Kingsley playfully blew sand off his lips. He looked over to the girls, who were reclining on a thick, colorful blanket. He could only see his Shamira, but knew Medeea was there.

“Should I make him feel good and yield?” he asked Shamira.

Shamira giggled and looked over at Medeea. “What do you say, Med? Medeea and I say . . .” and she gave the thumbs down.

“Wha?” Hansum said, realizing he was, once again, in for it.

“Yield, Kingsley,” Lincoln laughed, “before he brings out his big guns and tickles you.”

“If he tickles me,” Kingsley said, “then he really will be in trouble.”

“Kingsley's so ticklish,” Shamira said, looking over to Medeea.

“I can get Lincoln to do anything if I tickle him,”
Medeea replied.

“Don't I get sympathy from anyone?” Hansum cried.