Flight of Time

By Paul Capon

Four teenagers find a time-ship on a lonely stretch of shore. It has just brought two travelers-in-time from the future. When they leave the ship, Clive, Mark, Carol and Jill climb in. The ship starts off and they are carried on through the centuries at breathless speed until it comes to rest in A.D. 2260 and they step out into an unrecognizable England.

First the sea was pushed back to make room for the ever-increasing population, then cultivation was carried out in layers, with fields rising in tiers like giants' skyscrapers. The people are governed by an enormous electronic brain. The inhabitants of this extraordinary world plan to keep the children for ever, as

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thunderchild Publishing
• Release date: Feb 3, 2024
• ISBN: 9781479476114

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Jill sat on the sand facing the sea and closed her eyes. She started to count up to a hundred, counting slowly to give the others plenty of time to hide.

One…two…three…four…

She was feeling really happy for the first time in two days. She knew now that the holiday was going to be all right, but it hadn’t seemed like it at first. In fact, once the thrill of meeting two cousins from America for the first time had worn off, it had been quite a bit sticky. For one thing, there was the difference in their ages. Carol, at thirteen, was a year older than Jill; and Mark, at sixteen was a year older than Clive and seemed even more. It made things a little awkward and then the American children’s possessions — their clothes, cameras and watches — were all so much better than the English children’s, or at any rate, more expensive. They seem quite nice, Jill had whispered to Clive at bedtime on the first day, "but I wish they weren’t spending the whole of the holidays with us. What shall we do with them?"

…twenty-eight…twenty-nine…thirty…

The second day hadn’t really been a success, either. All four of them went swimming in the morning, but Mark and Carol had found the water terribly cold after Florida, and so the bathe was only a very quick one. And afterwards there somehow hadn’t seemed much to do. Clive would have liked to go fishing, but hadn’t suggested it, feeling that spinning for mackerel would seem a bit tame to the Americans, who were probably used to big-game fishing for marlin, tuna and that sort of thing. As for the poor old sailing-dinghy, well, he simply hadn’t mentioned it after hearing that Mark and Carol had a cabin-cruiser of their very own at Key West, to say nothing of a couple of fourteen-footers.

…forty-five…forty-six…forty-seven…

Today was the third day, and they had spent the morning wandering rather aimlessly over the sands until they had come to the part known as Wayland’s Waste, where there was nothing to be seen except the sea on one hand and sand-dunes on the other, miles of them without a house or a tree in sight. Clive and I used to play hide-and-seek among the dunes when we were kids, Jill had remarked, but I suppose we’re all too old for that now.

Old? queried Carol. Guess I’m not too old. Why, back home we often play hide-and-seek. All us kids do. Don’t we, Mark?

And that was how at last the ice had been broken.…

…sixty-nine…seventy!…seventy-one…seventy-two…

It was rather funny, really, and it was certainly a great weight off Jill’s mind. After all, if Mark and Carol were quite happy to play such a simple game as hide-and-seek, they’d probably enjoy messing about in the sailing-dinghy, or taking it in turns to ride the shaggy old pony that belonged to the farm. It made all the difference.

The others were getting impatient. She heard Clive yell: Coo-eee!, then a sort of Red Indian call from Mark.

She finished counting hurriedly : …ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, a hundred! COMING!

She opened her eyes and was just about to jump up when — whoosh ! — it happened. It was almost too amazing to believe. At one moment there was nothing in front of her except a flat expanse of sand and the sea, with no sign of life other than a small coaster right out on the horizon, and at the next there was a great shining object looking like a huge silver dish-cover.

It simply arrived from nowhere. It wasn’t there and then it was, and it arrived with a fierce yet hardly audible sigh, as if the air had been let out of a thousand toy balloons at once.

Jill rubbed her eyes, but there was no doubt about the object’s reality. It was too big and solid to be a sort of daydream. It was as big as an Eskimo’s igloo (and much the same shape), big enough, anyway, to house three or four men, and heavy enough to settle a foot or so deep into the wet sand as soon as it arrived. It was about fifty yards away, almost exactly half-way between Jill and the sea.

No one could have helped feeling a bit scared, and she backed quickly away until she was hidden from the gleaming object between two clumps of marram grass.

Clive shouted again, and she glanced impatiently over her shoulder.

Come here, everybody! she yelled. Something’s happened and…

She heard mocking laughter from among the dunes and Clive started to chant: Silly-billy-jilly, can’t find us! Silly-billy-jilly…

"Please, Clive! It’s import —"

She broke off as a sliding door opened in the strange object and a man got out. He was weirdly dressed, but Jill’s first sensation was one of relief to see that he was human. She had expected, well, almost anything!

No, the stranger was human all right, but he wasn’t much like anyone she had ever seen. He was exceptionally tall — nearly seven feet was her guess — and his complexion was as bronze in colour as a new penny. His head was shaven and he was bare-chested, but round his shoulders he wore a short blue cloak. For the rest he had on a spotless white shirt and knee-length blue stockings.

He stood with his back to her, gazing towards the sea, and he shouted something to someone still in the shining object. The breeze carried his words to her, but she couldn’t understand them. In fact, they hardly sounded like language at all. They were more like a sort of twittering.

Clive was evidently getting bored. Come on, Jill ! You aren’t half taking your time.

With the wind blowing from the sea there really wasn’t much risk of the stranger hearing him, but Jill was terrified and felt herself go hot and cold all over. Shut up! she hissed. And come here!… No, don’t! Stay where you are and keep hidden. I’ll come to you.

At last the others were beginning to realise that something unusual was going on. There was no more coo-eeing, and Jill wriggled cautiously backwards until she reached the first of the dunes.

She paused at that point, because someone else was getting out of the strange object. It was a girl this time, quite young, and she wore a skirt that looked as if it were made of gold. Above it she had on a white coatee, and her dark hair was arranged about her head in elaborate coils. Her skin was a little lighter than the man’s, but it could still be described as bronze.

She joined the man and he pointed across the sea to the distant coaster. They stared at it for several seconds, and it was almost as if they had never before seen a ship. Then they turned and made a careful survey of their surroundings.

Jill felt a slight movement at her side and gave a start. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Mark’s blond crew-cut and whispered to him to keep well down. And don’t move. They’re looking in this direction.

Who are they?

I don’t know.

Movie actors, maybe. And that gadget.… Is it something English?

No. It simply appeared. I’ll explain later.

The two strangers were making their way up the beach, looking about them warily all the time. If they held to their present course they would arrive amongst the dunes some way from Jill and she felt fairly safe. As luck would have it the children hadn’t been on the beach since the tide went out so there were no footprints to give them away.

Jill was the youngest of the quartet, but somehow in this particular situation she felt she was in command. After all, she was the only one who had seen the object arrive and so she knew more about it than the others.

Mark, can you round up Carol and Clive and get them here? Don’t let them show themselves for an instant!

Sure. I know where they’re hiding.

The strangers arrived at the high-water mark and the man stooped to pick something up. He seemed quite excited over his find, although Jill knew it was only an empty can that had once contained tomato soup. She had noticed it earlier that morning and had kicked it a few yards along the beach. It wasn’t even a foreign can, yet the stranger could hardly have been more intrigued if it had been a golden chalice. He showed it to his companion and together they studied the lettering on its label. Finally, instead of throwing it away, the man carefully shook the sand from it and pushed it into the wallet that hung at his belt.

The couple resumed their walk up the beach and Jill glanced round to see the other children wriggling towards her on their stomachs.

Carol was in front and as soon as she saw the huge dome-shaped object she gave a gasp of amazement. Holy smoke, what kind of a thing is that?

Jill put her finger to her lips and rolled her eyes warningly in the direction of the strangers, who had nearly reached the point where the dunes started.

Her brother ignored her warning and flung himself down at her side. Where did they come from, Jill?

S-sh! Better not talk.

Silly, they can’t possibly hear us. Where did they come from?

From…well, from nowhere.

Crazy! They can’t suddenly have appeared.

But they did, I tell you. Or, rather, that shiny thing down on the beach did, and then they got out of it.

Have a heart! It must have come from somewhere. You sure it didn’t come out of the sea?

"No, Clive! I keep telling you — it just appeared! I saw it, and it made a funny noise. Shooooosh! Like that."

That’s right, agreed Carol. I heard it. Sort of like a rocket taking off. Only more like it was taking off backwards, if you get me.

The children could no longer see the strangers and Mark cautiously raised his head.

Where have they got to? asked Jill.

They’re among the dunes, still walking. The guy’s just pointed towards the ridge where the heath starts and that’s what they’re making for.

What do you think we should do? asked Clive. Any suggestions?

Well, I guess we’d better tell someone, said Mark. Maybe they’re spies or something.

Yes, but it would take us half an hour to get to the village, objected Jill, and by then that thing may have disappeared again. We’d look silly, shouldn’t we? No, I suggest we wait till they’re out of sight, and then investigate!

Maybe they won’t go out of sight, murmured Carol. Gee, I wish we’d brought a camera!

Mark had almost to stand up straight to keep the strangers in view. They’re scrambling up the ridge, he reported. The man’s got to the top and he’s giving the girl a hand.… Now they’re both up it and they’re just standing there, looking inland.

They can see the railway from there! said Jill. Yes, perhaps that’s it. Perhaps they’ve come to blow it up.

Clive gave a hoot of laughter. Just dig my crazy sister! That railway has exactly four trains a week, two up and two down, and each consisting of an engine, one coach, two trucks and a guard’s van. I suppose blowing it up would deal this country a blow from which it would never recover?

You never know, said Jill darkly, and Mark announced that the strangers were moving off.

I guess They’re going down towards the railroad, he said, so maybe Jill’s on to something.… Okay, they’re out of sight.

Good. Come on! cried Jill, and they all scrambled to their feet and went racing down the beach towards the mysterious gadget.

They slowed up before they reached it and Clive voiced what they were all thinking. Better take it easy, kids. There may still be someone on board.

Actually, they could see quite a bit of the interior through the open door and Jill was the first to notice a most interesting feature. The wall of the strange object, as seen through the doorway, was transparent and through it they had a clear view of the beach and the sea beyond.

That’s funny. I mean, it’s transparent!

Yeah, one-way transparent, said Mark. Anyone inside can see out, but no one outside can see in.

Looks kind of cosy in there, Carol remarked. There’re seats all round.

The children came to a halt a few yards from the machine and Mark cast a glance towards the dunes. He satisfied himself that there was no sign of the strangers then turned back to the others.

Better we don’t all go up to the door in a bunch, he said. Who’s it to be?

You, said Jill.

Okay.

He gave a hitch to his jeans and strode forward. When he reached the machine, he peered in, but evidently there was no one in sight for he tapped politely on the object’s mirror-bright hull and called: Anybody home?

Nothing happened. The others ran forward and crowded round the narrow doorway.

Are we going aboard? asked Jill.

Of course, said Clive. Come on!

The interior of the machine seemed all cabin and the thing that chiefly struck the children was the absence of an instrument panel. In fact, there was no visible mechanism at all unless you could count as such a small fixed table with two glass press-studs let into it, one blue and one yellow.

I guess the motors are in the base, said Mark, but how are they controlled? Why, there isn’t even a compass!

None of