Cato's Prophecy

By Brenda Cheers

When William arrives back in the year 2467, it is to a world he no longer recognises. His peaceful existence has been replaced by one in which an Emperor rules by tyranny and fear. What has caused this catastrophe?
To Grace, the appearance of William is a miracle, a sign that Cato’s Prophecy is about to come true. Can she perform her undercover role cleverly enough to ensure the old time traveller’s safety, so he can free her people?
The third in the acclaimed ‘Strange Worlds’ series, Cato’s Prophecy is another unpredictable page-turner from the author who brought you “In Conversations with Strangers”.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Birdcall Publishing
• Release date: Mar 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9780994207944

Brenda Cheers

Birdcall Publishing is an Australia company committed to publishing great stories by Australian authors.

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Cato’s Prophecy

BIRDCALL PUBLISHING AUSTRALIA

www.brendacheersbooks.com

Copyright © 2015 Brenda Cheers

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

Author image Sargaison / Brisbane Headshots

Cover image © IS_ImageSource / iStockphoto.com

ISBN-13: 978-0-9942079-4-4 (ebook)

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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In memory of my father, who I lost during the creation of this book.

He was a gentle man who read often and widely.

Inventive and inquisitive, he would have made an excellent time traveller.

Cato’s Prophecy

Brenda Cheers

Prologue

William staggers and falls slowly to the ground, starving, dehydrated, and sunburned. He understands he is dying, but cannot comprehend how this has come about.

He reaches for the device lying on the ground, and removes the coating of dust with his fingers. He unlocks the lid and inspects the contents for the fifth time. All the settings are correct. He should have been transferred two days ago.

Closing his eyes, he runs through all the calculations in his mind. The portal should still be open. Maybe he and the others had travelled too much. There had been early indications that they had damaged some of the delicate fabric of time that existed between dimensions. Is that why he had not been transferred? What else could it be?

One of three things is going to happen. He will die here soon, or he will be transferred to the time where he belongs, or he will be transported and die during transit. The thought of ending his life in that strange, dark void between times makes his bowels squeeze.

The prospect of dying here in the desert is something he can come to terms with. He has led a full and interesting life. There are not many regrets: only two come readily to his mind. One is that he would never see the child he fathered with Meg, a child who would be extraordinary for many reasons. The second regret was that he would not see his friend Martin again to say goodbye. Their friendship has spanned nearly a century, bound by their mutual fascination with science and philosophy. When they were in the same time, they would meet daily to discuss new findings. William knows Martin would worry for him—fret that he had not returned. This makes William sad.

Already half-lying, he lets his body slump further until he is fully prone in the dirt of the desert. He is oblivious to his surroundings, atop Mt Walker. He is only conscious of the life draining from his body. He is too weak to swat the flies that have collected around his mouth and nose, only spitting angrily when one lands on his tongue.

A kookaburra begins laughing at him from a nearby gum tree. A sulphur-crested cockatoo arrives and adds its voice, the chorus of the two birds echoing around the plains of the desert. He fails to see any humour here, dying while birds laugh uproariously at his predicament.

There is a tingling in his spine. He lifts his head in wonder, and his heart begins beating rapidly. The tingling spreads to his torso and then his limbs. William knows this feeling. Knows it is the first sign of transportation. Excited but fearful, he pushes himself to a sitting position. His body is about to undergo a trauma of great magnitude. Will he be strong enough?

His fingers and toes begin burning, and within a few seconds the heat radiates up his arms and legs. He looks at his limbs and sees they are glowing. Then his whole body radiates, and the world turns black.

The pain is almost too much to bear. He hears his own screams, and they are hoarse, crackling through the void. He hates this part of travelling, the endless tumbling through the darkness with his body burning.

He knows he is losing consciousness. Stay with it, man. You've come this far. No, it's too hard. Think about dying in this void, what that would mean. Stay awake. Stay conscious. Not long now. Losing it...

Chapter One

Grace gazed around the cluster of buildings with concentration. This was the Omicron precinct, and her duty on this day, as usual, was to ensure its security. Her partner was on a break, and she enjoyed the freedom of exploring while unencumbered by another trooper. Even a friendly one.

This precinct was unique because of the structural design of its buildings. Each was a pyramid, some opaque and some transparent. There was a variety of sizes. The result inspired awe—a testament to the scientific processes and research that took place there.

She took a few minutes to assess the condition of her body. Her legs were stiff from the long run she had taken that morning. A ligament in her groin was irritated. She began a series of stretches.

Other than those two irritations, Grace felt good, light. She was making progress in her mission. She felt in control. Everything seemed just right.

A movement, ever so slight, caught her attention. It had been just a flicker at the edge of her vision. She watched the cluster of buildings to her left, waiting for other signs of movement, but there were none.

She walked slowly to the western edge of the precinct, where the movement had originated. She realised she was approaching the Matter Transfer building that housed the Time Room, and this knowledge made her heart beat faster. The building appeared untouched, but when she gently pushed against the door, she found it to be unlocked.

Grace bit her lip. By rights, she should call her partner or commander. Instead, she stayed outside the building and found a place on the eastern wall where she could see inside. The transparent pane was dirty, but she could make out a figure hunched over a console. He was typing on a keyboard and turning dials. She could sense the urgency in his movements. Five minutes passed, and still he worked feverishly. Grace's neck was tiring from having to hold her position.

The man stood and moved to the middle of the room. His back was to her, and he was staring through a glass wall to the room beyond.

Grace went back to the door and opened it, wincing when there was a noise. The man did not turn. She noticed that the room beyond the glass was glowing. Something was happening on the floor at the centre of the room—something she could not quite make out. It looked like a figure forming. A human figure.

The whole building was vibrating, and the golden light was pulsing. Grace was so absorbed in the events that her partner, Paulus, approached without her sensing it. She turned to him and raised a finger to her lips. He nodded.

The vibrations ceased. The golden glow disappeared. A man emerged in the semi-darkness, an old man who was lying prone on the floor. He was not moving.

Grace's partner motioned to his Pigeon device with brows raised. She nodded, and he moved outside. She knew that a great many people were about to arrive.

The first man, the one who seemed to have caused the second man to appear, turned and found Grace there. His shoulders slumped. Grace moved to him quickly. She squeezed his arm and looked into his eyes. Who is he?

The man dropped his gaze and shrugged. Unknown.

You're going to be arrested for this.

The man nodded. His eyes were fearful. I got a signal. I had to do it. Can't leave him stranded.

But you don't know who he is?

Must've been gone a long time. Unknown.

Grace looked through the glass. The other man had not moved. She pressed a red button on the wall, and the glass slid upwards. She walked over to the prone figure and knelt next to him.

There was a commotion at the door. Grace could hear the Commander's voice and braced herself.

Put this one under guard. Charge him with aiding and abetting illegal time-travel. The Commander strode over to Grace, his boots slapping on the flooring. He looked down at the old man and prodded him in the side with the toe of his boot. Alive?

Unknown. She felt the old man’s chest and then his wrist. I think there are some faint signs of life.

The Health Troop arrived noisily and ran into the room, carrying boxes. Their leader asked Grace and the Commander to shift to the left. As soon as they had done so, all three medical workers began working on the old man.

Permission to transfer him to the Health Facility, sir!

Yes, yes. The Commander looked at Grace. Go with them, will you? Send a report.

Yes, sir.

As the Commander strode out, Grace moved to her partner. He was attaching restraints to the wrists of the time-travel technician. She watched and shook her head. They don't need to be too tight. I don't think this man is dangerous. Paulus adjusted the metal clasps. Good, that's better. She smiled at the prisoner, who looked ready to faint.

Grace's partner pulled the man to his feet. I'll take him to the Containment Centre now. Where will I meet you?

The Commander wants me to stay with the time traveller. I'll come and see this prisoner later.

Finally, there was just Grace, the old man, and the Health Troop. She stood aside as the white-vested medicos walked toward the exit, carrying the time traveller on a stretcher. Once they were clear of the building, Grace began walking alongside, clasping the thin hand of the old man in her own.

Life was just about to get interesting.

The Health Facility was a sprawling group of buildings in the Chi precinct. Each building was a flat-bottomed sphere, decorated in different pastel shades, and surrounded by synthetic lawns.

The old man was taken to a secure wing where other white-vested staff members ran to receive him. Medical equipment was produced, readings taken. Medicos shook their heads and muttered among themselves.

Grace became impatient. Well?

Another man entered the room. Grace noted his robes and the colour of his eyes. Elite. The medicos straightened their shoulders and took two steps back from the old man. Their gazes dropped to the floor.

Grace nodded to the Elite physician, and he returned the greeting. She was also Elite, so did not need to drop her gaze. 152AntoniusPH, his nameplate said. Grace offered her trooper identity screen to him, but he waved it away.

She stood back and watched the physician at work. His hands were strong and capable as they probed and prodded. Here was a health professional who preferred to diagnose by touch and instinct, rather than machine readings. Grace watched, enthralled.

Rehydrate. Feed. Treat burns. That order. Go.

The white vests sprang into action. The physician called one worker aside. Assess organ damage. The medico nodded. More machines appeared.

The physician watched with arms crossed and a frown creasing his brow. Finally he spoke. Burns to the extremities like these haven't been seen since time-travel was made illegal.

Grace nodded. But they aren't life-threatening?

Not on their own, but with his overall condition they are a complication he could do without. Burns caused by time-travel are usually only a minor irritation. These were probably made worse by age—lack of circulation to the extremities.

What do you think caused him to be in such a serious state overall?

Unknown. We don't know where he's been, or when.

I've been told to guard him.