Author's Games: History

Task One: Entries

Spot 2: Sara_R_Stark

  "Peter! Peter wake up!" Peter's eyes opened groggily, his vision swimming as he struggled to identify the face hanging mere inches in front of his own.

"What? What do you want?" he asked, stifling a yawn as he sat up slowly. It was in the early hours of the morning, sunlight just barely streaming in through the thick blinds of the museum's massive windows.

"Something's gone wrong," the young man gasped. Peter's eyesight finally adjusted and he made out the blurry figure of his close friend, Heiron, crouching by his bed. "Come on, everyone is assembling in the main hall."

He yanked Peter to his feet, the German swaying tiredly as they made their way through the museum. As they approached the hall, hushed whispers could be heard, and Peter's eyes widened at the size of the crowd filling in the small space. They were all surrounding the museum's only working time machine, one of the ones that Kenneth's agents often used to scout out more people for their exhibits. Why was everyone assembling this early in the morning?

"Why is everyone here?" he asked. "Are they bringing someone new in?"

"I do not think so," Heiron grinned childishly. "I heard they will look for people to go back. Something bad happened on one of their searches and they don't want to risk their workers getting killed."

"Then why did you drag me in here? I won't be going on anything of the sort."

"They wanted all of us." Peter sighed deeply, eventually nodding. This seemed to excite Heiron. The man was already 23, though he acted as though he was a child with his constant enthusiasm and wonder. He had always wanted to go on adventures and explore areas outside of Greece, though his family's situation never allowed him to. Heiron still seemed to consider the museum an adventure to be had, and Peter never bothered to explain to him the gravity of their situation.

All at once the crowd hushed, and Heiron murmured something excitedly in Greek, straining his neck to see over the heads of the others. One of Kenneth's agents stood atop a platform by the machine, holding a clipboard in his hand, his eyes sweeping over the crowd as he waited for complete silence.

"Thank you for coming here at such an early hour," he said, his voice gravely and intimidatingly deep. "I am going to make this quick. There has been an issue with our most recent expedition, and an avalanche caused by our carelessness has trapped a town within its own borders. This could negatively affect surrounding towns in ways that we can not identify as of yet. Those who will go have already been decided and there will be no dispute. I will read from the list and those on the mission will step forwards." He looked around once more before glancing at his clipboard. "Freydis, Anne Elizabeth Myers, Elanor Lincoln, Heiron Condos, Ammon, Cassius and Peter Fischer."

Peter groaned in annoyance.

. . . . . . . . . .

The time machine was like nothing Peter had ever imagined. The trip was quick, nothing more than a brief jolt and a nauseating dizzy feeling before they hit solid ground. Heiron was the first one out of the machine, laughing gleefully at the sight of the expansive winter wonderland they landed in. They had been briefed by the agent about their time period, the ice age within the time known as the 'Pleistocene Epoch.' Though it was considered summertime, the ice never melted and the weather barely rose over its average temperature of around 9-18 degrees Fahrenheit.

"Let us make this fast," Ammon, a young man from Ancient Egypt grumbled. "I am not fond of cold."

"Then we'll hurry," Peter responded, beginning to make his way out of the clearing.

A brief sweep of the land gave Peter all the information he needed. Mountains rose in the distance, grey peeks poking through the cloudy sky. Sparse golden prairie grass grew underfoot, barely poking through the snow and ice and scratching at Peter's boots. They were in a large empty clearing, pines and firs stretching as far as they could see in any direction. Through the trees, animals continued on with their days, not paying any attention to group of humans invading their territory. This was what caught Peter's attention the most. Animals he had never thought to see, such as a large woolly mammoth, tramped through the forest around them. A hawk screamed as it flew above their heads before swooping down into the trees, flipping back up into the air moments later with a small rodent clamped between its beak. More tracks, likely of animals much larger than any of their group, trekked across their clearing. That was Peter's cue to get their group moving as fast as possible.

"Yes, we need to hurry," he called. "This is wild nature. None of us are safe unless we begin moving."

He lead the way through the trees, the girls following behind and talking in a tightly knit circle. Ammon stalked behind Heiron, occasionally shoving the Greek forwards when he stopped too long to admire a pattern in the snow or a small animal scurrying through the underbrush. Peter ignored all of them, his eyes focused on nothing but the path towards their destination. They were somewhere in Canada, right in between the locations of four different small villages. One of these villages was at the base of the mountain, but the agents going back in time had accidentally landed the machine on a weak part of the mountain. The rocks crumbled down around them and blocked in the town. They didn't assume it was bad until suddenly things began changing, little pieces of history altering in ways they hadn't anticipated. Somehow this village being trapped was altering the outcome of the Ice Age negatively, yet Peter couldn't seem to figure out how.

"Hey, Heiron," Peter called, suddenly noticing how annoyed Ammon looked to be getting with the young Greek. "I've got a story to tell you... come over here." Heiron bounded over to Peter, his hair dusted with snow and his eyes sparkling excitedly.

"What is the story?" he asked.

"I doubt you've heard about the theory related to this ice age period, considering it is still a relatively new concept where I'm from. When I was born, this ice age had already ended, and lots of the animals you see here were wiped out completely. You know those big woolly mammoths that we saw in the clearing? Those go extinct by the end of this ice age."

"What?" Heiron asked, looking devastated. "How?"

"That's the fun part," Peter grinned. "No one knows why, though there are theories. Along with the woolly mammoths, saber-toothed tigers and giant bears died out as well, yet they're both predators. That's why it's so confusing. One of the theories is that these early humans actually hunted them into extinction."

"Hunt the woolly mammoths?" Heiron gasped. "But why?"

"For food and furs, Heiron. They needed those to survive in this cold environment. But that isn't even the most interesting theory. Another theory is that a large space rock fell to earth and hit Canada quite close to where we are now. People say this comet wiped out most of the humans and animals living in the area, which likely contributed to the extinction. But you never know."

"Interesting."

Time passed quickly as they tramped through the woods. Ammon decided to come out of his shell ever so slightly, and he began to chat with Peter and Heiron as the looming mountains got closer and closer. Peter's eyes strayed occasionally to his new group members, though they were only quick glances. Instead, he spent most of his time admiring the scenery around them. The ground was covered with snow and ice, though a select few hardy bushes had survived the cold and poked up through the powdery substance. Every so often, he would see a small rabbit skitter across their path or hear the snuffling of a deer somewhere beyond the trees. Birds called loudly, occasionally flitting through his line of vision. It was peaceful and serene here. You could easily lose yourself in the beauty of the landscape, though he had to remind himself that they were on a mission. People were trapped with no way of escaping their town, and unless they hurried, more and more could die.

It was silent for a while before Ammon broke it, turning towards Peter with his brown eyes blazing with concern.

"Peter," Ammon said slowly. "Why is this village so important? Why are we here?"

"I don't know yet," Peter shrugged, pausing uncomfortably. "I do have some ideas, though."

"And?" Heiron asked. "What are they?"

"The one that I assume is the most plausible is the idea that this town offers something important to its neighbours. Maybe they give food or wood or clothes or something necessary. Now that they're trapped, those around them aren't getting these needed supplies so they are being affected. Then, those that rely on these villages for other things are suffering. It's a domino effect- yes, I know you don't know what a domino is, but I think you understand, right?" Both men nodded, so Peter sighed deeply. "The only thing I don't understand is how we are supposed to help these people. There are only seven of us, and if an entire village couldn't free themselves, then how are we supposed to do it?"

"We will figure it out," Ammon mumbled.

"We must do that fast because it looks like we have arrived," Heiron commented.

Peter's heart skipped a beat as they approached the edge of a large clif and stared down into the chasm below. It was nothing more than a 30ft drop, but he was scared of heights, so he hesitantly shied away from the edge.

"That makes sense," Freydis murmured, staring over the edge. There is a drop on three sides and it looks like the avalanche blocked off the only open side."

Peter's eyes widened at the sight of the large pile of snow and ice. It was clearly extremely packed in, building off the preexisting rocks and boulders to form an impenetrable wall. Small forms moved to and from the wall, and lights glowed from small houses on the opposite end of the chasm.

"I think it would be smart to make contact with these people," Anne said quietly. "Maybe we can discuss a solution to this problem."

"Interesting plan," Peter grinned, "except we don't know what language, if any, that they speak. Communication could be difficult. I say we try to find a solution without communication, if possible." Anne nodded and stepped back, looking flustered.

"Obviously they don't know how to break down the wall," Freydis said. "But we were given some tools. Maybe we can help them start a tunnel."

"Let's hurry, then," Peter cut in. "It's getting dark and we still need to get back to the machine before nightfall."

The group hurried alongside the chasm, Freydis and Ammon unpacking their tools from within the two large backpacks supplied to them by Kenneth's agents. They had multiple shovels and a single pickaxe, as well as a length of rope and other miscellaneous tools. It took them nearly thirty minutes to reach the bottom of the chasm by the towering wall of ice and snow, and it took them a moment to simply stop and stare at its beauty. The setting sun reflected off the pieces of ice buried underneath feet of thick snow, casting orange and red pinpricks of light into every direction. The snow glittered brilliantly, set against the dark sky of evening. They didn't have much time to stop and watch, though, and the group quickly set to work at digging away the snow.

Heiron, Ammon, and Freydis took charge of the manual labour while Peter, Cassius, Anne and Elanor stood back, planning on how to take out snow on a larger scale. Peter spun around on his heel, inspecting their surroundings with a keen eye. There were multiple towering pine trees at the side of the chasm and a scattered pile of large stones underneath a small overhang in the rock.

"Hold up, guys," he called. "I think I have an idea. Freydis, can you give me the rope for a second?" Freydis took the rope out of her bag and tossed the length over to Peter.

"What are you planning?" Elanor asked.

"These trees over here," Peter said, making his way over to the closest pine, "could be used to help us. We can secure one side of the rope to a branch and the other to a rock and pull it back really far. When it hits the wall, it should leave an indentation and possibly break off a small portion of it. It's much faster than digging through the whole thing." Heiron's eyes lit up excitedly.

"Brilliant," he chuckled, looking pleased at himself for using such a big word. "Remember, Peter? You taught me that one."

"Good job, buddy. Now can you guys help me secure the rope to the rock while I get the other side onto the tree?"

"Of course," Freydis nodded, walking over to the pile. "Don't worry, we'll get this done fast."

Peter nodded and tied the end of the rope to his belt before wrapping his arms around the trunk. There were no low hanging branches for him to grasp onto, so he made slow work of scaling the trunk using only his feet while his hands kept him secure. It was tedious work and he inched along slower than he anticipated, but once he reached the first branch, it was much easier. At about 20 feet, he stopped and inspected the distance from the wall. Tying the rope at this height would leave about ten feet from this side of the rope to the wall. He grinned as he knotted it onto the branch, testing its security before skittering down the tree like a squirrel with the other side of the rope on his belt. Freydis took the rope from him at the bottom, tightly securing it to the rock.

"We need someone to climb up on top of that ridge," Peter said, pointing to the overhang above the stone pile. "That person will need to bring the rock so that they can swing it back and let it loose on the wall."

"I can do it," Heiron offered.

He took the rock and began to push it forwards, scaling the ridge up to the overhang. Heiron made a show of raising the rock over his head, smiling once at Peter before he let the giant stone loose. Everyone watched in awe as the boulder sailed through the air. Seconds later, there was an explosion the sound of an earthquake, and the snow wall crumbled. 

Spot 3: ariel_paiement1

Manfred stared at the tiny Korean girl who had crept over to his area of the basement. The others all huddled in other corners, talking in hushed voices or sleeping. The energy in the room was muted and sullen, but there was a strange spark of determination in the girl before him as she stared back.

She was taken shortly after he was, and he could still recall how she'd brazenly offered herself to the man who ran the show here. He wondered what sort of life she'd led that she would be desperate enough to do such a thing.

The reason he remembered her, however, was not because of what she'd done upon arrival. He remembered her because no fear had shown in her, and when the men turned her offer down, she had only appeared relieved.

She tilted her head, watching him.

"What do you want?" He rested his chin in his hand.

She blinked. "No English..."

Manfred shook his head. How am I to communicate with her if she doesn't speak English? "I don't speak Korean."

Her shoulders slumped, and she cast a furtive glance back at the other group. She pointed to a pale, tall man who clearly enjoyed food too much. "He explain."

Explain what? Manfred eyed the tall man. Given the odd powdered wig and the cut of his clothing, Manfred guessed he was an American from some point in the Revolutionary War. Most of them looked similar to him with their powdered wigs and pallid faces, but he was fairly sure the man was Benedict Arnold. Assuming I was correct about the time travel, that is.

"Talk. He explain." The girl took his hand in hers and tugged.

"Very well." Manfred exhaled slowly. "Talk it is."

He crossed the chilly concrete floor to where the American was speaking to a group of those nearest to him. Others from around the room drifted over as well, listening intently to what the American was saying.

"He messed up the timeline." The American's bushy brows drew down over his brown eyes. "And now we have to fix it."

"Why do we have to fix it?" Someone in the crowd pushed to the front.

Manfred squinted at them, unsure who they were. Perhaps they were just a normal individual who was living life until Kenneth and his thugs came along.

Still, he owed those thugs his life. His hand drifted unconsciously to his chest where the bullet had hit him, nearly ending his life. Caught up in his memories, he almost missed what the American was saying. A tug on his shirt sleeve from the Korean girl brought him back to the present.

"We go because Kenneth ordered it." The American seemed to view this as final, and he shuffled through the crowd to an empty part of the room.

Manfred watched him go, pondering what they'd just heard. If Kenneth ordered it, we may as well accept that we're going and wait for the inevitable.

***

In-Sook's gaze flicked around the machine, examining her companions. Kenneth had grouped them together yesterday, and he had paired her with the strange man she'd dragged to yesterday's announcement. Kenneth insisted Manfred would teach her English.

With Manfred's help, she'd learned the others' names.

She looked at each individual.

Nefertiti. The bronze-skinned Egyptian woman was cold and regal.

Benedict Arnold. He was the one who had taken charge and told them Kenneth had demanded they save the fraying timeline.

She still didn't understand what the fraying of the timeline implied, but if Kenneth wanted them to fix it, it must be bad. He never let them leave the museum.

Medekhgui. The young Mongolian's funny clothing was the most distinctive thing she noticed about him. Well, that and the weapons strapped to his back and his hips.

Esther. Kenneth had explained the gentle young woman was a Persian queen of Jewish lineage. In-Sook didn't know enough history to be certain where Persia had been, but she knew that being Jewish wasn't often considered a good thing.

Aetius. Her gaze roamed over the Roman centurion Kenneth had boasted about. Apparently, he was the last Roman centurion alive after the final fall of the Western Roman Empire.

Manfred—whose last name she couldn't pronounce—the final member of their group drew her attention to him as he strode to where she stood. He pointed to the yawning opening that provided passage to and from the time machine. "Door." He spoke only one, strange word, but she could understand that the object barring their exit from the machine was what he was pointing to.

She sidled up to the object and pressed a hand against it. "Doh-ur?" She rolled the foreign word around on her tongue.

He nodded with a smile and pointed at her. "Your name?"

"Nay-muh?" She frowned and shook her head.

He pointed to himself. "My name is Manfred."

She crossed her arms, squinting at the odd man.

"Manfred," he repeated, still pointing at himself.

Comprehension dawned on her. He was asking for her name. A smile crept across her lips, and she repeated what he'd said earlier. "My name is In-Sook."

He patted her head. She frowned at him, but she didn't slap his hand away. Fighting soldiers back home hadn't ended well, and Kenneth had said Manfred was a soldier. She stared at him for a moment after he withdrew his hand.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry..."

Her frown deepened. More words I don't know. This is not going to work.

Manfred exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping. He looked lost and guilty. Does he feel bad for something? "Sorry?" She tried the word out, savoring the sounds.

He nodded, but the nod seemed unsure.

She smiled, hoping to reassure him.

"This is going to be a long trip." Manfred rubbed a hand across his face.

When he caught her looking at him curiously, he shook his head and strode to sit in another corner of the time machine.

***

Manfred watched the rest of the group as they tried to decide amongst themselves which of the three doors to go through. They stood near the time machine's control panel, bickering over what to do. Most of them didn't speak each other's languages, but fortunately for them, Kenneth had been kind enough to supply them with whatever technology allowed him to understand each of them.

Unfortunately, they only had enough to allow a few of them to communicate. To make things easier, they had distributed the three they had to Esther, Nefertiti, and Aetius. However, that still left Medekhgui and In-Sook without the ability to understand any of them.

In-Sook stood quietly beside him, observing the people. He wondered what was going on behind her bright, quick gaze. The question was answered when she pointed at them and rattled off a question in Korean. He didn't understand the Korean, but he understood she was asking about the group.

"Door." He pointed to the door. "Choose door."

She blinked, seeming uncertain what he meant, though she clearly remembered the last word. "Door?"

He shook his head and pulled a pencil stub and paper from his pocket. Crouching on the floor, he drew three doors and arrows to each. Then he repeated his response. "Choose door." Pointing the pencil to each, he counted. "Door one. Door two. Or door three. Which door?" He drew a question mark above each door.

She examined the drawing for a long moment. Then her eyes widened. "Choose door?" She pointed to door three and the question mark, then asked him another question in Korean.

He frowned.

She pretended to open a door and then motioned for the pencil.

Handing it to her, he watched quietly as she drew animals behind one door, trees in another, and buildings in the last. Then she repeated her question. He inclined his head, his gaze brightening with understanding. He took the pencil back and drew people, dinosaurs, and mammoths above the doors.

Manfred wasn't the best artist, but he thought she got the idea. He peeked at the group around the terminal, wondering if they'd made any progress. Their voices were rising, and he could see a few pushing each other. No one seemed to agree on any one thing.

Shaking his head, he turned back to In-Sook, who was watching him instead of the group. "Idiots, the whole lot."

She cocked her head to the side and jabbered something at him in Korean. His shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his aching temples. For all the advanced technology here, they couldn't fix the lingering pains in his head from the shot he'd survived months before the near fatal air battle that had landed him here. This is impossible. I'm stuck with a team that can't work together, and I'm supposed to teach this girl, who barely looks fifteen, how to speak English. Grudgingly, he admitted to himself that the last one might be significantly easier than getting the squabbling team to work together.

Someone shouted in English over the loud bickering. "I'm pushing the one for prehistoric people! So, all of you just shut your mouths!"

Arnold.

Predictable. He seemed to be one for attention-grabbing.

There was a loud clanking sound, and the time machine shook. When Manfred glanced over to see what had happened, he saw that Arnold had pressed the button for the third door in the time continuum.

In-Sook tugged on his sleeve. "Choose door?"

He exhaled and closed his eyes, rubbing vigorously at his temples. "Yeah. They chose a door." Opening his eyes, he jabbed the pencil at the third door with the people above it. "Choose door."

***

The group stepped out onto a lush green plateau. Trees surrounded them, and a river cut through the greenery beside them. The sound of rushing water and the crashing of waves against rocks from nearby told them a waterfall was located somewhere close by. Benedict Arnold was heading up the group, but Manfred thought he looked as awestruck and confused as the rest of them.

Manfred's sharp blue gaze wandered over their surroundings. He spun to look at the scenery behind the time machine. A steep slope led upward from the plateau and into the cliffs. From here, he could see a tiny path cutting through all the greenery toward the top of the cliffs. Towering high above, a city perched atop the cliffs, its spires piercing darkly into the azure sky's brilliance.

His eyes narrowed, and he rubbed his chin. In-Sook tugged on his sleeve. When he looked at her, she pointed to the city.

He shrugged. "City."

She tried the word out.

Glancing back, he saw that the rest of the group looked as confused as he felt. Kenneth told us we had three doors leading to the ice age, the first humans, and the dinosaurs. So, what are we doing here?

He wracked his brain for an explanation. The traditional story of Adam and Eve wouldn't allow for a city like that. It can't be the theories held by modern scientists or nothing would even be here. He continued searching through the things he'd learned throughout the years. This was obviously closer to what the creationists argued for. It couldn't be prehistoric man like the scientists talked about because prehistoric man couldn't build the city in front of him.

One theory came to mind. What if the people who found a blend between creationism and science were correct? He bit his lip.

Arnold pulled him from his reverie. "What do you make of this?"

He glanced over at the man. "I'm beginning to think the people who claimed there was pre-Adamic man might be right."

Arnold squinted at him. "Pre-Adamic man? What are you going on about, Richthofen?"

Good question. "In my time, some of the Bible believers are beginning to suggest that the reason the earth seems older per modern science is because there was a race of men that existed before Adam. According to them, the race became so corrupt and evil that they were utterly destroyed, to the point where the earth became desolate. Then, God just started over with Adam."

Arnold snorted, gazing up at the city. "That worked out wonderfully, didn't it?"

Manfred shrugged. "Don't ask me. I didn't come up with the theory. But I do think it's a good possibility here. No Neanderthal could build that."

"I still haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, but if you say that's what's going on, I suppose we'll go off that. After all, if we were being traditional, we should be in a garden with only Adam and Eve." Shaking his head, Arnold looked over their companions. "How do you propose we go about figuring out what's wrong?"

"We start by examining the current situation." Manfred also watched their companions, who were still busy looking at all the odd plants surrounding them. "Since you seem to be the self-appointed leader, why don't you round them up?"

Arnold shot him a narrow-eyed glance. "Seems to me that you're the one really taking charge. You round them up."

Manfred released a long, heavy breath. "Fine." Turning back to the group, he resigned himself to the hassle of dealing with the rag-tag group.

***

Manfred noticed In-Sook starting to fall behind the group as she stared at the strange people and the bazaar surrounding them. He felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips, and he reached for her. She sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers closed around her tiny wrist, and he winced.

"Sorry. Hurry though." He pointed to the group disappearing into the crowd up ahead and silently thanked Kenneth's foresight in clothing choices when no one even gave him or In-Sook a second glance.

She relaxed and nodded, following him when he tugged on her wrist. They caught up with the others, who had stopped abruptly on the fringes of a large crowd. Manfred craned his neck to see what they were looking at.

There was a woman in the center of the crowd. She stood tall on a few overturned crates someone had turned into a platform, her firebrand hair waving in the soft breeze blowing through the market. Manfred couldn't understand what the woman was saying, but apparently those with earpieces did because they were looking back at Manfred with inquisitive looks on their faces.

He raised a brow at them. The Roman centurion jerked his thumb toward a quiet alley nearby, and Manfred shrugged. So long as they tell me what's going on, I don't care what we do. He led the way through the crowd to the alley.

Darkness cloaked them as the group huddled at the end of the alley, sharing the space with a mangy cat and a pile of bones and half-eaten meat that appeared to be from some sort of bird. Feathers covered the bloodied cobblestones near the corpse. Likely, it was the cat's dinner.

"What's going on?" Manfred leaned against the side of the house on the alley's left side.

"That woman is changing their minds about the path they're on." Nefertiti bit her lip. "I do not believe she is supposed to do that, is she?"

Manfred cursed, running his hands through his hair. "If she succeeds, this place will continue on, and we'll never exist."

"What do we do?" Arnold looked pale and sweat beaded his upper lip.

"Isn't it obvious?" Manfred scowled at the cat, who hissed back. "We assassinate her."

***

They returned to the square to watch the tail end of the woman's speech, and it was clear that the crowds were listening. Some scoffed, but most were either undecided or agreeable. Manfred gritted his teeth. She's doing a good thing. Why must she die? He missed the end of her speech and realized he'd been lost in thought for too long when the people began dispersing.

The earpiece fit snugly in his ear, translating the chatter flying past. The others had decided he'd need that if he was to evade capture once the job was done. And he would have to do the job because no one else would. By now, only he and In-Sook remained. He bit his lip. Why did this have to be my job?

Shooing In-Sook in the direction the others had gone, he stepped up to where the young woman was clambering down from the makeshift platform. "Excuse me, miss."

She spun to look at him, her caramel eyes widening when she saw him standing there. "Are you the promised one?"

Manfred frowned. "Ah... Naturally?"

She bowed her head, red curls flying in the wind. "I wish I could've done more, but He said I couldn't. He promised I would be spared the suffering of my people's judgment."

Is the earpiece broken? Who in their right mind is this calm about their own execution? "Err... How kind." Manfred cleared his throat.

"He is a merciful God." She bit her lip. "Where will you take me to end this?"

"The back alley with the cat?" Manfred nearly choked on his words when he processed what he'd said.

What am I doing? I'm about to kill this innocent woman, and I'm joking around about it?

"Well, I suppose some company is better than none. I always did like cats." The woman's lips quirked upward. "Shall we go then?"

Manfred bit his lip. "Ah, yes... We should." He took her wrist in his hand and headed for the alley, still shocked that she was cooperating so willingly with him.

I can't do it. He glanced back at her, and she gave him a warm smile. Tearing his gaze away, he gritted his teeth. I can't murder her, but I can't leave her here. He exhaled softly. I'll just have to take her back to the museum. There's no other option. This had better be worth it because Kenneth is going to have my head.

Spot 4: MusicgirlXD

DROPPED OUT

Spot 5: JesterheadJohnSnow

"By grabs!" Thomas rose from where he was seated near the sleek gray wall of the basement. "Will you two cease your incessant bickering for five seconds?"

Under the bright orange strips that gave the dark room a dim glow, Paul and Viktor glanced up from their cards to face the revolutionary. Before Thomas's rude interjection, the two soldiers were engaged in a bitter argument over a game of Rummy, annoying the schoolteacher and possibly the other 'employees' on their break.

"Can you believe it, Mr. Washington?" Paul grinned sheepishly at the revolutionary. "This commie bastard has obviously been cheating yet he denies it. Maybe you can ask Kenneth and his hooligans to spare him vodka."

"You have a devilish sense of humor, boy." Thomas rolled his eyes. "I may be acquainted with the great General Washington, but I am not him." His eyes flicked over to Captain Dragunov. "You! As a military captain,I expected you to have more maturity than the child."

"Child?" Viktor frowned. "Zis lad of war eez a full-grown man. A zoldier, more espezifically. "

"Mein Gott! You sree are garnering unvanted attention."

The three soldiers turned to face Johannes Kepler, standing there with his arms crossed. Beside him stood Jarl Starkad, towering next to the mathematician. If Thomas recalled correctly, this man was a Viking Earl.

"I agree." Starkad stroked his beard. "If you keep this up, you will have us back in the tubes earlier than planned."

A hushed silence fell over everyone. If there was anything worse than being tortured by the Unseelie King, it would be standing like a statue for hours with no restroom or snack breaks. The thought made the patriot shudder.

Does this Kenneth lad mistake us for statues? No living being can stand still for hours without motion in a confined space. This is utterly abominable!

"You have a fair point there, Thor." Paul grinned over at the cloaked Jarl. "You have some ale on you?"

"I prefer to be called Odin." Starkad chuckled as he went over to the young soldier's side.

At that moment, Johannes Kepler appeared beside Thomas. The two intellectuals got along well as they had some things in common. For one, they preferred to use their heads in situations rather than resorting to Plebian methods. Moreover, they shared a passion to debate over scholarly topics not related to mathematics or even history.

"Usually, I enjoy enlightening young minds as that was my job prior to my joining the cause." Thomas referred to the American struggle for independence from the British. " I am particularly sure you do as well since you had experience teaching. However, I don't approve of these inhumane conditions we are forced into. Moreover, we aren't being compensated for our work."

"Ja." Kepler sighed. To Thomas, the mathematician's pompous purple and brown clothing reminded him of a modern-day clown and he bit his lip to avoid laughing. "Eet eez unfortunate"-

The appearance of Kenneth's hologram cut him off.

---

"Good evening, my wonderful employees. How has your night been?" The bearded man smirked at the tense museum attractions from the center of the room. "Good, I hope. Now, we will attempt something new tonight. I hope you are all ready."

Zheng Chenggong , or Koxinga, as the others called him, halted his conversation with Zhen Wu, a fellow Chinese citizen from a different time period, and focused on what the museum owner wanted to announce. He felt his bones tense up to levels that haven't been approached since the Qing invaded Fujian. What did he have planned for them? Hadn't he already tormented them enough by forcing them on their feet the whole day with no breaks?

From the center of the basement, the bluish glow radiated off of Kenneth as he continued to speak. "I regret to inform you that your presence here has ignited a chain reaction that threatens to erase history as we know it. I am now assigning some of you to various time periods in order to remedy this issue. Don't any of you return until you complete your objectives. Best of luck!"

With that, the hologram vanished like an apparition. Before the occupants of the basement could process what they heard, the walls opened up, emitting smoke that covered the vicinity like a shroud. Once the dust cleared, several box-shaped objects appeared out of the sleek wall. The brown boxes, adorned with blue and red blinking lights, had names of different periods labeled on them in bright purple lights. Underneath those purple lights were the names of individuals assigned to each time period. Peering closer, Koxinga noted that his name appeared underneath Akhenaten and above Thomas Parrish's name.

So, I am assigned to te Ice Age, huh? Shood be fun.

Whirling around,he'd noticed that his companion Zhen Wu had left his side to join up in her assigned box alongside a World War 2 soldier and a samurai. Despite speaking different dialects of Chinese, the two communicated well in broken English. Chenggong also had a soft spot for acrobats due to having many entertain him in the past. Originating from vastly different eras had its advantages yet it had disadvantages as well.

"Hey!"

Startled out of his thoughts, Koxinga glanced over at a youthful boy in green military fatigues and a matching jacket wave him down. Koxinga noticed him standing in front of the entrance of their assigned box. Beside him were five other people that looked out of place next to him save for another soldier in an olive-green uniform. His armor rattling, he strode over to the motley crew.

"What took you so long, Mr. Chong?"

"Ets Koxinga." This kid was starting to irritate him already. What is with foreigners and their lack of manners.

The man with the Western attire and long brown hair cuffed the youth on the back of his head. "Mind your manners, boy. It's time to move along."

----

This is eerily similar to that machination we were forced into when I was traveling through the realms.

The flashing lights inside this elevator-sized box ignited some memories within Thomas's mind. Closing his eyelids, he was back into that large time machine with Kortana and the squad when Paul's voice grounded him back to reality.

"I wonder what this button does."

Thomas's eyes grew twice their size as the other occupants glanced toward the young soldier. "By grabs! You better not"-

It was too late as Paul pressed one of many red buttons on the side panel of the sleek metal object. The flashing lights then blinked more intensely as the object started to spin.

"Calibrating the time to your destination," a feminine voice said through the intercom. The flashing lights and spinning floor almost caused Thomas to black out until the spinning finally stopped ten seconds later.

" Welcome to the Ice Age." The doors of the machine slid open.

---

Jarl Starkad was grateful for the fur cloak he donned as a biting chill swept into the machine. Beyond the doors, an icy atmosphere reminiscent of his homeland beckoned to them. The first thing he noticed were oak ,pine, and spruce trees dotting the icy landscape they had stepped into. For a second, the plant life convinced Starkad that they had stumbled back into his time period until he noticed the outlandish animals roaming around the environment. If he had recalled what he learned at the museum when he had ventured into the prehistoric era during his break, he had noticed that those gargantuan creatures were called mammoths.

"By golly!" Paul exclaimed as he hugged his jacket close. " Are those wooly mammoths? We must be 2 million years into the future. Don't tell me this is the Ice Age."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "So, you do have the ability to focus your wandering mind for once? Yes, we are in the time period we are assigned which is the Ice Age. However, by the look of things, we might be in the final dregs of this Ice Age that occurred ten thousand years ago."

As if to make a point, rumbling sounds were heard as the ice from the nearby glaciers started to wear off and gradually slip into the light blue waters underneath a dark blue sky dotted with stars that glowed like camera flashes.

"Ah, good reasoning," Kepler chimed in.

"Hey, just because I am not nerds like you doesn't mean I can't catch on," Paul protested.

Starkad glanced to his right to see the scrawny caramel-skinned man who only wore what looked like ceremonial robes shiver in the chill. Taking pity, the Viking Jarl shed off his own cloak and handed it to the guy whose name slipped his mind. Was it Aki? Akhin?

"Thank you, kind sir." The sickly man smiled as he donned the cloak. It turned out to be two sizes too large for his slender frame.

" Don't mention it." Starkad grinned. "An act of charity once in a while is just as heroic as dying an honorable death worthy of Valhalla." His eyes then darted to the trees that surrounded their frosty environment. He could see the smoke exit his mouth as he spoke. "Those trees are the ancestors of the conifers we have today."

Starkad might have well been engaged in a monologue as Viktor the Soviet soldier walked over to the freezing man and offered him a bottle. "Deez eez Vodka. Drinking eet warms up your body."

As he took a swig from the bottle, the other four team members bickered amongst themselves. Suddenly, the ground shook as if Fenrir himself stomped on the ground. Cracks appeared around the ice as Starkad and his crew tried their darndest not to fall.

"I believe what we are standing right now in what Alfred Wegener said was Pangea," Paul proudly stated.

"Nonsense, boy!" Thomas barked. "Continental drift already occured 7 million years prior to this time. The Earth is now situated as it should be in our time periods. We are in what I believe is known as the Pleistocene Epoch ."

"Weren't you guys the ones who stated that the Earth was flat?" Paul smirked.

"Nein, zat vas before my generation." Kepler chuckled. "Columbus heemself proved that wrong when he deescovered the New Vorld."

Starkad zoned the bickering of his comrades out as his eyes scanned their vicinity. The mammoths weren't the only fauna present. Groups of giant sloths were lumbering around. Smaller mastodons wandered the area across the small lake that had its surface covered in thick ice like a lid on a jar. Glyptodons and Elasmotheriums lumbered around the wet ice, looking for food. What fascinated Starkad was that these animals were the ancestors of some modern-day animals.

"I rearry don't want to get eenvolved in your rittre row, but eef tis ees te finar years of te Ice Age, ten woodent eet been less icy?"

All eyes turned to fixate on Koxinga. The men all murmured in agreement, concurring on something for once. There seemed to be far more ice coating the environment than originally thought.

"Why are we here in the first place?" Paul spoke up. "Weren't we supposed to correct something?"

"The lad has a point." Thomas nodded. "I believe there is something I have overlooked in the time machine. Akhenaten, I request your company."

As soon as the man wearing Starkad's cloak left, the remaining five men only had each other and the chill for company. As a cold wind blew through, Starkad gritted his teeth as he tried to weather through this. Their setting as eerily similar to Scandinavia minus the presence of humans. Speaking of which...

"Do any of you remember if the first humans existed in this era?" Jarl Starkad asked his four companions.

"Do you mean cavemen?" Paul replied.

Before the Viking could respond, shrill cries were heard from across the lake. Everyone glanced toward that location to see herds caribou and elk fleeing from hunting packs of saber-tooth tigers and even a couple of lions known as the Beringian Lions. As the men were awed by the sight, they were startled out of their trance by Thomas and Akhenaten's arrival.

"Beautiful sight, huh?" Thomas adjusted his hat. " I couldn't help overhear your question, but from what I remember from my reading, there are two types of human species alive in this time period. They are Neanderthals and Homo Sapiens. The latter are our ancestors."

"Is there a possibility that we may run into them?" Paul inquired.

"Let's hope not. We need to focus on fixing this time period lest history fade away like ashes in the wind."

"Vhat eez our mission?" Viktor spoke up.

"It seems that we have to speed up the rate at which the ice melts or else this Ice Age will last another millennia," Akhenaten explained. "Where is Aton when you need it?"

"Ah!" Kepler exclaimed. "Let me get to the calculations at once. One question remains. How do vee attempt to solve this issue?"

Suddenly, a loud growl captured the men's attention. Turning around, Starkad spotted a large lupine figure perched on top of a nearby rock, snarling at them. At first, he suspected it to be a gray wolf, but the brown coat and the sheer size of its body and snout proved him wrong.

"Stand back!" Starkad drew his battleaxe as he faced off the direwolf. "I'll end this miniature Fenrir in"-

The staccato shots of a rifle echoed through the air, cutting him off. The large lupine beast yelped as it slid off the rock and down the to the colorless ice, leaving a long red trail. All eyes turned to Viktor, who smirked at everyone, the smoking PPS machine gun clasped in his hands.

"You must be drunk," Starkad muttered. "How much of that 'vodka' did you drink?"

Before the Russian captain could reply, a loud trumpeting sound was heard at the side of the hill they were situated on. The men watched as the mammoths were frantically trying to escape the groups of what looked like large apes encircling. These apes were wielding sharp spears and it soon became apparent that this was a hunting party flanking the large beasts.

"Are those monkeys?" Paul breathed out.

"No,those are the Neanderthals I spoke of earlier." Thomas stroked his beard. "Those are the only species of humans present in this age, alongside our ancestors the Homo Sapiens."

"How do you know all this?" Paul turned.

"Vell, for one, vee shpend our shpare time at the muzeeeum reading up on hishtory instead of vayshting time with games." Kepler winked.

"Um, guys?" Akhenaten broke the silence. "I believe those 'humans' have spotted us."

Sure enough, a small dispatch of the Neanderthal hunting group was making its way up the hill. They resembled crosses between apes and humans, dressed in furry coats as they marched up the hill.

"I tink tis is a negotiation party of sorts." Koxinga stepped forward. "Ret's meet wit tem and see what tey desire."

"I sincerely doubt that." Starkad held his axe close. "They"-

No sooner had he spoken, cracking sound tore through the air. The leader of the Neanderthal splinter group collapsed, a pool of blood staining the ice under him. All eyes fixated on the youngest member of the team, whose rifle was smoking after he fire from it.

"Imbecile!" Kepler broke the silence. "Vhat vere you"-

A spear whizzed past the Jarl's head and embedded itself into the trunk of a nearby tree. Letting out loud grunts, the Neanderthal group prepared to avenge their comrade.

"Farr back!"

Koxinga's order was unnecessary as Starkad and the time travelers made a hasty retreat to their time machine. Making their way up the hill through the gushing waters of melting ice, Starkad could only thing of how they failed in their mission to repair history. In fact, they had assumed to exacerbate the dire situation.

Our objective was to speed up the process of concluding the Ice Age yet we failed to melt even a block of... Thor's hammer! Is the ice melting?

Sure enough, they were wading through the chilly waters of what was once an ice-covered hill as they approached the time machine. The seven men all gaped in unison at the object, which was radiating heat so intense that was melting the ice at an exponential rate.

"Hark!"Thomas bellowed. "At the very least, our work is complete. On to the next matter."

"What's that?" Akhenaten asked, his teeth chattering as he clasped Starkad's now dampened coat closer to himself.

"Look behind you!" Viktor leveled his machine gun and aimed it at the oncoming horde. " Get inzide. I'll cover for you."

Wasting no time arguing, the men all climbed into the machine as Captain Dragunov sprayed the approaching men with machine gun fire in an effort to stall them. It wasn't long before Dragunov hopped into the time machine alongside his comrades.

"Idiot boy!" Thomas smacked Paul on the back of his noggin. "What the devil were you thinking? You could have gotten us killed!"

"I'm sorry. "The boy glanced downward, fiddling with his dog tags. "I panicked and my instincts kicked in."

"Eet ees a natural trait of war." Viktor chimed in. "Battle does zat to your zenzes."

"Well then." Thomas sighed. "Congratulations to us. In the process of breaking the ice, albeit literally, we have the blood of many species on our hands."

Glancing out the window, the group noticed what used to be the ice that covered the environment was now rushing down the hill, washing away everything in its path. The place looked less like the fjords of Scandinavia to Starkad.

"I think we better fly off before we get caught in the thaw."

"That's the best plan I heard today." Thomas's finger connected with the red button from earlier, resulting in a bright flash.

Spot 6: RondaRayl (my mom was kind enough to fill in a spot and this is her first time writing a story like this, so be kind! :) 

Kenneth and his agents walked into the room. Astrid, Catalina, Alan, Jackson, Richard, Norman, and Thomas all looked up and met his gaze, most of them confused and some, like Astrid, even angry.

"Something has gone wrong with the time machine. History is... coming undone. I'm sending you seven back to try to fix whatever is going on. We're losing peices of history, so you have to save it. Fix the timelines, and collect as much historical data on your journey as you can."

"Wait, we can't do something like this!" Thomas said desperately. He was only fourteen and this whole situation had made him scared.

Then Jackson rose to his feet, fists clenched. "I oughtta kill you for this." He charged toward Kenneth, but Richard held Jackson back.

"Don't be so stupid," Richard, the mature army general, snapped.

"We don't have much time to waste," Kenneth said. "Take them to the time machine."

Kenneth's agents hauled them out of the room and upstairs to where the time machine was located. The outside was covered in solar panels but the structure itself was rectangular. Kenneth opened the door and the seven confused and scared people stepped inside.

*****

As soon as the machine stopped spinning, the seven companions all stepped out and into an unfamiliar time. The massive open field in front of them was covered in sheets of ice, but most of it had begun to melt. Water trickled down and formed puddles and ponds scattered in several areas.

Norman looked at the time machine's controls. "According to this, we're 1.5 million years ago... right in the middle of the ice age," he said in Hebrew.

Catalina translated it for everyone.

Richard huffed. "The ice isn't supposed to be melting now. Not for another millions years or so."

"We have to find the cause of this," Alan said.

The group started walking across the field and they soon discovered the cause when they climbed up over the next hill. As they climbed over the hill, they saw a building that looked similiar to an observatory.

"I didn't think any buildings were supposed to be here at this time." Jackson crossed his arms.

"Maybe Kenneth's agents built it," Thomas added with a shrug.

"How can that be possible?" asked Alan.

"We... must... find... out," Astrid stuttered out in broken English.

*****

Once inside the observatory, they noticed that the technology used inside the building was releasing a chemical that appeared to be melting the ice.

"We have to figure out a way to stop the chemical from being released," Richard said.

Alan noticed that there were barrels of the chemical stored in the basement that Richard told them the agents must have used them for fuel.

"How... we... destroy... this?" Astrid asked.

"Maybe we don't have to destroy it. We just have to get it out of the ice age," Alan suggested.

"Let's get to work then," Richard ordered.

*****

When they finally finished loading the barrels and had the last one in the time machine, they all explored the nearby area to see if the ice melting had stopped. Sure enough, it had, so they all loaded back onto the time machine to go to the next time period in their journey. 

Spot 7: FantasyTeller

DID NOT HAND IN 

Spot 8: wordsmith-

Ching Shih

Ching scowled as she was shoved into a tiny room and told to wait by one of Kenneth's followers. She spat at him but he ignored her. Were he on one of her ships, he would have been beheaded by now. Perhaps she would have even cut off his ears, a punishment usually reserved for deserters. The tiny space made her long even more for her ships, for the open sea and freedom. And yet, her heart pounded in her chest, equal amounts of fear and excitement rushing through her. Why was she be here in this dirty room and not in the museum?

Her head snapped toward the door when it opened, hand reaching for her recently reacquired dao. Two men were pushed inside. Ching eyed them warily. Both had light olive toned skin and dark eyes. It took a few moments to place them. Agis and Nikomedes. They were like her, captured from a different time and held captive here. She slept in the same area that they did, along with a handful of others.

For several moments the three of them simply stared at one another. Ching could see that both had strange swords at their hips. Agis' was double-edged, with no curve. Nikomedes' was darker in color than both of theirs, and Ching wondered at the dents in it. How could that sword possibly be of any use?

Four more people were shoved inside. Ching recognized them as well. The Persian priest Melichor, an older woman who stared at any man near her age, the fair-haired sailor called Olvir, and Li Hua. She nodded at the young woman, and Li Hua smiled.

Then the door opened once more, and a slim rectangle was thrown inside. For several moments she stared at it before moving toward the recently closed door. She tugged at the handle vigorously but it refused to open. Frustration filled her and she glared at the door.

There was a grunt and then Agis pushed her out of the way. Ching switched her glare to the other man. Her hand wrapped around the hilt as she pushed back. Agis' eyes flicked toward her sword and he reached for his own. Ching couldn't help the grin that pulled at her lips. This was the most excitement she'd had ever since her capture.

"No!"

Both of them turned to see who had shouted-it was the blonde woman. Jocosa, Ching thought her name was. Jocosa looked at their swords warily as she held out the rectangle with a shaking hand. It glowed the same way that the holoscreens that were in front of the exhibits did.

"What?" Agis asked roughly, and Jocosa swallowed.

"Please, don't fight." There was tremor to her words. "We must do instructions," she said slowly, the words stilted. She had a slight accent, the closest to the ones Kenneth's agents had.

"What?"

Jocosa frowned. "We must fix..." she paused. "Fix time." She pointed to the holoscreen as she spoke.

Despite herself, Ching felt the stirrings of curiosity. "Fix time?" The words sent equal amounts of fear and excitement through her. It had been so long since she had done anything but do what that hak sum ordered, as though she were still in Guangdong.

Nikomedes scoffed, a harsh, ugly sound as he yanked the holoscreen from Jocosa. He frowned, thick eyebrows drawing together.

"Why we should help?" It was the blonde man-the one that was referred to as a Viking. He too was a sailor, if she remembered. Beside her, Agis stepped away from the door.

"Fixing this will help Ahura Mazda in his battle against Angra Mainyu. All good assists Ahura Mazda," Melichor said softly. His English was clear, clearer than she'd expected with his thick accent. It seemed he studied as often as he prayed.

"Kenneth says we must," Jocosa added.

"You listen to that metrokoites?" Nikomedes sneered, and Jocosa curled in on herself.

"If we don't we will be punished," she protested weakly, gesturing at the holoscreen.

A frisson of fear went up Ching's spine at the words. They brought back memories of Guangdong before she had learned that it was better to let the men do what they want. She clenched her jaw, straightening her shoulders.

"How do you know that?" she demanded.

Jocosa

"It says it there," Jocosa said, pointing at the holoscreen. She wished that the others would follow the instructions. She didn't like the punishments and it would be much simpler. More arguments broke out and Jocosa bit her lip. She looked at the only other person inside who hadn't spoken, a woman with dark hair and slanted eyes. She sidled toward her and the woman looked at her curiously.

"Your name?" she asked. It was one of the few phrases she was certain of.

The girl blinked. "Name?" Her accent sounded like the other woman's, the one with the sword. Jocosa nodded. After a moment she replied slowly, "Zhou Li Hua."

Jocosa nodded.

"Their names?"

Li Hua shrugged and pointed at the other woman. "Ching." The fair-haired man was next, "Olvir." Then she shrugged again.

There was a sudden lull that made her look back. The three with swords were staring at each other. After a moment Ching headed for the unlocked door. She opened it and then disappeared into a new hallway. Jocosa followed the others only to see that Ching had already gone through one of the three doors. Icy air emanated from the open door. Jocosa wanted to turn back but everyone was already going through, so she stepped through the door.

Immediately all of the air in her lungs disappeared. The world spun at dizzying speeds and her vision blurred. Then the world went still. Icy air pierced through her fragile skin and Jocosa drew her shawl around her more tightly. The thin fabric, though she'd made it well, did little against the cold and Jocosa shivered as she took in the world around her.

As far as she could see, there was white. It was as though everything had been stripped of color, leaving behind the bones of a wintery landscape boxed in by mountains. Snow covered the ice beneath her feet, so bright it hurt to look at. As far as she could see, it was simply a thick, flat sheet of ice, like dough on a table. Beyond that, she thought she could see the choppy grey of water. Snow fell in soft swirls and landed like sugar in her companions' hair. Even her breath was white, small puffs that reminded Jocosa of clouds.

She could hear the chattering of teeth beside her and then a coat was being shoved in her arms by Ching. Jocosa put it on without hesitation, raising an eyebrow at the pile in Ching's arms. The woman must have found them by the door and taken all of them.

"What now?" she asked.

There was silence among her companions before Ching spoke. The pirate seemed to have taken the lead, because they all turned to her, even the other two men with swords.

"We will fix time," she said slowly, and it took Jocosa a moment to comprehend the woman's accent, even though each word was sharp and distinct. Her gaze turned on Jocosa. "You can read?" she demanded, pointing to the holoscreen. Jocosa nodded. Her ears were numb from the cold already.

"Tell us what we must do," Ching said shortly, and closer up Jocosa could see that her face was red from the cold. With hands that felt hard and clumsy, she took the strange device from Olvir. He looked perfectly at ease in the cold, tall and handsome as he smiled down at her.

Jocosa flushed as she looked down at the holoscreen. The words were in English, but they were difficult to read given that she had only started learning once she'd been captured. She wished her brother was here; he would have been able to read much better. Skimming the screen, Jocosa inwardly marveled at it. Something like this was inconceivable at home, but here, nothing seemed impossible. Her gaze landed on the even, black script at the bottom, so different from the letters she had seen her brother practice writing.

"We have find comp-comson." Jocosa frowned, the word escaping her. It was unfamiliar and longer than the others. She could feel Ching's gaze on her and shame swirled in her belly at her failure.

After a moment she shook her head. "We... dispose them. They do not belong," she said, and for a moment she wondered if she was speaking about the creature or herself. Shaking her head, she showed the photo on the holoscreen. It was a strange and terrifying looking creature. Every part of it was long, arms, legs, tail, and even its neck. It was a muddy brown color and Jocosa couldn't understand why Ching and the others looked excited upon seeing it. She wanted to go back to the museum already, where there were warmth and guaranteed food. She wanted to go home.

Melichor

Melichor listened to his companions bicker in broken, choppy English and let their voices wash over him. Cold bit at his bones in this awful land, but he would endure it. He and the others were here to help Ahura Mazda in his fight against Angra Mainyu, and that alone was worth any number of discomforts.

The sound of their chatter cut off abruptly, and he looked up to see that a group of animals were ahead of them, running swiftly. He recognized them as deer, animals he had glimpsed during his travels. He squinted and realized that they were running from something. He inhaled sharply. They were running from the creatures on the little device. And they were coming this way.

A quick look at the others showed expressions varying from excitement to fear, and Melichor found himself staring at the woman with the sword. Ching, he had heard the blonde woman call her. Ching was looking at the animals with a calculating expression.

"We kill the not-deer," Ching said simply, and Melichor felt his heart drop. Death only helped Angra Mainyu. He could not do this.

"No. I will not," he said, and Ching turned to look at him. Her eyes were cold as the air around them, and he swallowed.

"Stay away," she commanded and Melichor nodded, all disagreements dying at her tone.

"It's very dangerous," Jocosa said suddenly, and Nikomedes laughed.

"We will kill not-deer," he said and the rest of the men nodded. Ching looked at the rest of them with contempt. The rumbling of hooves grew louder, vibrating in Melichor's bones. The animals were getting closer. A loud cry left Nikomedes' mouth and then he darted forward, Ching, Agis, and Olvir at his heels.

The four of them reached the group of animals at the same time. The deer bolted while the other creatures turned to face them. They were smaller than he had thought, perhaps the size of a turkey. And they were powerless against the swords and spears of their attackers. Silver, bronze, and iron flashed in the cold air and blood stained the ice beneath their feet pink.

Bile rose in Melichor's throat and he looked away. Instead, he looked at the two women with him. They were huddled close together, with wide, frightened eyes. He walked toward them, cold air brushing his face as he moved.

"Do not look," he said and Jocosa nodded. Li Hua looked confused. Do the right thing because it is the right thing to do, and then all beneficial rewards will come to you also. He repeated the Zoroastrian maxim to himself as he listened to the others slaughter the strange creatures. He prayed that what he and the two beside were doing was correct, and would balance the evil that Ching and the others were doing.

Spot 9: Several7s

Khen's fingertips danced across the scars on her arms, lightly brushing the white lines from the older ones. In her mind, she heard a whip cracking, and Cagan's laugh as he shackled her in her tent again.

"You shouldn't have tried to run, Khen." Crack. "You." Crack. "Will never." Crack. "Be free."

She hung limp from her shackles, too exhausted to scream. Hot blood ran down her back and mingled with salty sweat, stinging her wounds. The whip hit repeatedly, tearing into her and ripping new wounds into her back.

Finally, after what felt like hours of torture, Cagan left her to hang there for the night. Her tongue felt dry and swollen in her mouth. A dull ache in her throat reminded her of how little she'd had to drink, accompanied by the sharp pangs of hunger ripping through her stomach. Tears mingled with sweat and blood. It was hopeless. Cagan was right- she'd never be free. She existed solely to serve these people.

"Khen." A familiar voice reached her ears, and she looked down to see Turgen smiling up at her. He set a stool down and stood on his toes to reach her mouth. "I brought water," he whispered.

She drank it eagerly, thankful for the small gestures he made to help her. He set down the cup when it was empty and offered her a small crust of bread.

"It's small, but it was all I could take without them noticing."

He held it to her lips and she bit into it, savoring the taste. "Thank you," she whispered. "For... everything."

"It's not right, how they treat you. I wish..." He shook his head.

The sound of footsteps outside the tent spooked him and he grabbed his stuff, rushing out the back right before Cagan came back in. "It's your lucky night," he said with a grin. "Someone requested you for the night."

"Khen, you're crying." Tia's gentle touch startled Khen out of her memories and she curled up into a tighter ball.

"I fine," she whispered.

Tia wrapped her arms around Khen, pulling her into a hug. "Don't think about it. Thinking about it makes it worse."

Khen laid her head on Tia's shoulder and let herself feel safe, if only for a moment. Of everyone she'd ever met, Tia was the only one besides Turgen that Khen trusted. On her first day, Tia had chased off several men who tried to advance on Khen. For the next few months, she watched out for Khen, who took that long to realize that Tia only wanted to help. Now, the two had become close. Khen considered Tia a friend- her only friend beside Turgen. Tia, though she'd never told Khen, looked at the young Chinese woman like a sister, and swore to protect Khen.

***

Mary still couldn't get used to sleeping on the floor. It wasn't lady-like. She fingered her necklace thoughtfully. Boredom, as it often did, sent her into her memories. She thought of Francis. She'd thought about him a lot lately. Maybe because now, more than ever, she took comfort in knowing he was dead. At least this way, he didn't have to witness her kidnapping.

A tear slipped down her face. She'd left James without a mother. Often, she worried about him and Bothwell, now that she wasn't there to protect him. In her absence, James would have been crowned king. She remembered how much it hurt, growing up without a father to raise her. She'd been queen for as long as she could remember. James... she hadn't wanted that for him. She'd wanted to bethere. But now it was too late for that.

From the top of the basement stairs came a loud banging, startling Mary out of her reverie. With a sigh, she stood to go see what was happening. The guards hadn't come yet. No doubt one of the more rebellious prisoners was demanding breakfast or something.

There was man banging on the doors at the top of the stairs when she got there. "You'll only make them angry," she said. "It won't help you."

"No one has come to punish me. Don't you find that odd?" The man pounded on the door again and yelled something Mary didn't understand. She sighed.

"Just stop! You're making everyone nervous. This will only draw attention to you later. Think about everyone else. We don't want to get into trouble because of you."

He finally turned his attention away from the door and looked at her. His eyes immediately fixated on her chest. She glowered, resisting the urge to go up and slap him. "Don't look at me like that."

"Who are you?" He directed his gaze back to her face, which made her feel less violated, at least.

"Mary, Queen of..." she stopped. "That doesn't really matter anymore."

The man raised a brow, smirking. "Leo, at your service." He bowed, mocking her.

Clenching her jaw, she turned and stalked away. "Just stop hitting the door."

***

Naoki glanced around, trying to understand what had brought them here. The tablet only gave information on what should have happened. It said nothing of the events that had transpired since Kenneth's agents finished with the place. According to what little the guards had told them before they left, they had to fix the issues caused by Kenneth's men when they were kidnapping people for the museum.

If they did, the guards claimed Kenneth had said he would send them all home. Naoki didn't believe them for a second, but he recognized that he might not have a home if he didn't obey. The other six people with him seemed to realize this too since they didn't object to what was going on.

At least they could communicate. For those who didn't speak English fluently yet, Kenneth's men had given them the translation devices they used when they were answering questions in the museum. He and a woman named Mary were the only two without the devices- Mary because she already knew English, and Naoki because he had picked it up quickly. With little else to do before the museum opened and after it closed, he'd spent a lot of time studying the language. It was the only activity that Kenneth's men couldn't punish them for doing.

He glanced over their team, taking a quick assessment. There were three women. One was probably noble, with long black hair, fancy clothing, and a stick-straight posture. That was Mary. Next to her stood a blonde woman with tangled hair, scars in various places, and the look of a warrior. Tia, Naoki thought her name was. Standing slightly behind Tia was a shorter, raven haired woman with wide brown eyes. She looked thin and malnourished. Despite her long sleeves, Naoki spotted several scars on her arms. They didn't look like battle scars.

He remembered seeing her in the basement, usually sitting with Tia. Seeing her now, more terrified than she usually appeared, he felt the strange need to protect her. Khen. He'd known her name before Tia introduced her. He remembered trying to help her at one point when the guards got harsh, but she'd looked so horrified when he came close that he backed off. Later, he'd asked the Mongolian boy who occasionally sat with her who she was. All the boy had given was her name.

"I demand to be taken back to my son," someone yelled. "They can't separate us like this! Where are we, even?"

Ujarak. He's going to be an issue if he keeps ranting about his son. Naoki frowned. "Ujarak-kun, we cannot..." He paused, searching for the right English words. "We cannot stop this. The guards... took your son. He is with others."

"If I may, I believe I know where we are." The artist, Michelangelo, gestured to the surrounding scenery. "This is, if I'm correct, the Garden of Eden. Or... perhaps outside the garden. Regardless, I believe that would place us around 4000 B.C."

"Knowing when we are won't help us figure out what to do," Felipe- the Greek merchant- pointed out.

From beyond a tall wall of overgrown bushes came giggling. Naoki glanced around, confirming that everyone was still with him. He frowned and moved toward the bushes. The others quickly followed, and they looked out on an interesting scene.

A pregnant, naked woman stood in the arms of Gregory, of all people. He kissed her neck and rubbed her stomach with a wide smile. "Lillith... you should have told me you were pregnant last time I visited."

"I wasn't sure." She turned around to face him and ran her fingers along his jaw with a seductive smile. Long black hair fell down her back, covering her bare skin. She tilted her head to the side and leaned up to kiss Gregory. "God threw me out of the garden because of you," she mumbled. "I'm surprised He hasn't cast you out of heaven."

"Who says He hasn't?"

Mary moved forward, her jaw dropping. "He claimed to be an angel?"

"Oh, Gabriel... has He?" Lillith pulled away and stared into Gregory's eyes, lips slightly parted. "What will we do? The baby..."

Gregory took her arms and gently pulled her into a hug. "We'll be fine, Lillith. The baby will be fine."

Naoki frowned. Well, if they had come to find an issue in the timeline, it was glaringly obvious what had gone wrong here. What was Kenneth's head of security doing messing around with this woman, anyway? And did Kenneth know? Naoki couldn't imagine Kenneth would be happy about this turn of events.

Tia practically snarled in anger beside Naoki. "We should kill him. Now."

"No! We cannot jeopardize the future anymore than it already is," Mary snapped. She looked somewhat angered, but also confused. "He called her Lillith, but... there was no Lillith. Only Adam and Eve are mentioned in the Bible."

"Maybe your Bible didn't talk about it," Naoki suggested. "She might have... lived, but the child is Gregory's. It shouldn't be here."

"Fine, then what do we do about it? You can't expect us to go kill a woman with her unborn child? It isn't the baby's fault the parents made bad decisions," Felipe said. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I will not kill a baby."

Tia nodded her agreement. "No one is hurting the child. Whoever tries would have to go through me."

"Hey!" Ujarak held up a hand for silence and pointed to the time machine. "There's a better solution. We go back and make Gregory back off before anything happens between them."

***

They took several tries to find the right time, but finally, they found Gregory and his men before they found Lillith. Or, rather, Gregory's men found them.

Khen shrank away from the group of men that approached and hid behind Tia. She stared at Gregory, her face paling as fear crept through her. Memories flashed through her mind- memories of her first time at the museum. He'd held her down while Kenneth's doctor...

She chewed her lower lip and forced herself to think of anything besides that. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. Don't think about it. Tia often told her that the past couldn't hurt her anymore, promising that if she tried to forget about it, things would get better. So far, it hadn't worked out too well, but Khen kept trying.

"Who are you people, and how did you get here?" Gregory demanded. His men leveled their weapons on the group.

Naoki started forward, but Mary held him back. "You can't communicate efficiently," she whispered. Then, she directed her attention to Gregory. "Kenneth sent us, Gregory. You and your men are to stop your mission and go home."

"You don't work with Kenneth," he snapped. His gaze fell on Khen, who stared at the ground, trying not to shake. "You look like the street rats he sends us to pick up."

Naoki's eyes narrowed. "We come from the future," he said. "We are not street rats."

Mary nodded. "Kenneth found out about you and Lillith, Gregory. He knows you plan to see her, and he knows about the baby she will have because of you. Now, you can listen to us and go home now so he never knows... or you could stay and face his wrath later." She held her head high and met his gaze with courage Khen couldn't imagine showing. "I would go with option one if I were you."

Gregory's eyes widened in fury and he stormed forward. "How dare you..."

"We've seen you with her, in the future," Ujarak said. "We even made recordings, which we can take back to Kenneth, if you like."

Khen waited anxiously, watching Gregory. He looked like Cagan used to, right before a particularly bad punishment. "M-maybe we shouldn't p-provoke him," she said, but her voice was so faint that no one heard her.

"Fine," Gregory sighed. "Let's go." He stopped to stare at Khen, making her skin crawl.

When he finally turned and left with his men, she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her muscles relaxed a fraction, but she could feel Naoki and Ujarak watching her too. Knowing they were on her side didn't ease her fears. She couldn't help not trusting them.

"Let's go," Felipe said. "Seems like our work here is done."

***

They were just entering the time machine when Naoki heard a scream. When he turned, he saw Gregory holding Khen, one arm pinning her to his chest, the other holding a knife to her throat. The tip rested gently on the small chip that Kenneth's men had given them for communication. With a swift movement, Gregory pulled off the chip and crushed it beneath his boot.

"Tell me- why would Kenneth hire anyone who needed these to speak English? No, let me answer that one. He wouldn't. You're just displays that escaped, aren't you?"

Khen shook, her face white, eyes wide. That wasn't just the fear of someone being held at knifepoint. Naoki had seen her reaction to Gregory earlier. The man had done something to her in the past- something that still terrified her. A fierce protective instinct rose within Naoki. His fists clenched. No one should have to feel fear like that.

"Let her go!" Tia shoved Ujarak out of the way and stormed toward Gregory. "You've hurt her enough, you monster!"

Naoki moved forward, but Gregory dragged Khen back. "I'm taking you all with me," Gregory said. "If you don't cooperate, I'll slit her throat."

"Jigoku no yō ni," Naoki snapped, then realized he'd slipped into Japanese. "We won't let you hurt her."

Before the situation could escalate any further, Mary stepped in again.

"If we don't get back, Kenneth will get suspicious," she said. "Do you really want to gamble that he didn't send us? And if he didn't, do you really think our first decision after escaping would be to come here and stop you from making a big mistake? If it didn't make such a big impact on the timeline, I would've just let you get into trouble."

Gregory paused, thinking about that. His hesitation gave Naoki the perfect opportunity to end things. He dove forward, sliding his hand between the knife and Khen's throat. He gripped the blade and snapped Gregory's wrist back, forcing him to release the weapon.

Khen stumbled away from Gregory toward Tia, who pulled her into a hug. Naoki threw the knife into the bushes and faced Gregory. "Back off, Gregory. You get more... benefit by leaving now."

They all waited anxiously while Gregory stood there indecisively. Finally, he shot one last glare at the group and stalked off. Naoki breathed a sigh of relief. As the adrenaline faded from his system, he registered the pain in his hand. Glancing down at it, he realized there was a deep cut there. Blood was already pooling in his palm.

"Itai," he muttered, pressing it against his clothes to keep the blood from getting everywhere.

A pair of hands wrapped around his wrist and tugged the wound back into view. "Hurt... for me," Khen said slowly. "Why?"

Naoki frowned. Why? Why wouldn't he? How could she not understand the human capacity for love and mercy? "Didn't want you to get hurt."

She stared at him for a moment, confusion clear in her expression. He pulled his hand away, but she took it again and wrapped the wound tightly with strips of cloth from her dress.

"I help," she explained, when he asked what she was doing. She was silent for a long moment, then she looked up at him. "Can't help me. No get hurt again. Not right."

"How is it not right?" Naoki didn't understand why this bothered her so much.

Tia moved to Khen's side. "She's complicated," Tia explained. "Don't worry too much about it."

"Hate to interrupt your party, but we have a job to do," Ujarak said. "Let's go."

Spot 10: livelaughlove79

DID NOT HAND IN

Spot 11: Shermanblook

There were three selections on the screen:

.Mesozoic Eras

.5th Ice Age

.Early Homo Sapiens

The two groups before them had selected the latter two. Maurice, being the most modern of the party, was given the controls. She nervously selected:

*Mesozoic Eras

Enter. The menu dropped down into subcategories.

.Triassic Period

.Jurassic Period

.Cretaceous Period

The cursor hovered, and she took a deep breath before clicking.

*Triassic Period

Enter. She closed her eyes as the machine seemed to accelerate then fall. A bright light flashed, blinding her through her eyelids. A soft airy hiss sounded, and the time machine door opened. Immediately the air became humid and swampy, and a warm muddy odor hung about. She blinked away the swirling inks until her vision cleared, then manoeuvred the cursor to power off the machine.

They followed the American farmer, Carlson, and were immediately in awe of the scenery around them. Not even the scenery, but the event had shocked them into amazement. Some disguised this awe. The Mayan and the Austrian musician both held dignified but impressed looks. The two Marie Antoinettes put their hands to their mouths and gasped showily. Whether this ladylike action was a conditioned reaction or merely their personalities... well it was hard to tell with such noble people who were raised around certain mannerisms. A British woman observed the others silently, but held an expression of clear enthusiasm. Carlson was old and didn't bother with the subtleties that the more reserved folk insisted on. He just exclaimed "Wow!" and stood there, chest puffed, gazing about him.

Maurice herself watched with a smooth stoney face. She was amazed, but unused to expressing such a profound emotion. When does a human truly experience amazement, after all? When an author she likes comes off of a several year hiatus? When her favorite singer releases a new album that she finds an affinity for? These feelings could not compare to journey they had taken, nor the sight in front of them.

The machine had taken them to a forest with tall palm-like trees. Some of them of course had not seen palm trees before, but Maurice had grown up in California, where the things had been scattered across the beaches as if they were in style. There were a few other varieties of tree, such as one made of spindly branches that formed the shape of an egg, but the palms dominated. A slow and muddy river ran through, and on a too-close-for-comfort bank Maurice could see reptiles that appeared to be long-legged crocodiles. Were they dinosaurs perhaps? She had to admit that she hadn't paid much attention on that field trip her class had taken to the history museum oh so many years ago, and she wasn't sure which type of reptile constituted as dinosaurs. The crocodile-like creatures appeared to be content, and she was glad that the group had not stumbled across a larger variety.

The foliage on the ground reminded her of the ferns that grew in the redwood forests, but did not grow quite thick enough to cover the grimy ground. Noises sounded from one form of insect or another, though she did not see any outright.

While the experience settled, Maurice went ahead and broke the silence. "So. I suppose we have a job to do."

The Austrian, answered, voice deep and a bit scratchy. It was no wonder why he played trumpet but did not sing. "Yes, we do."

#

"I've heard that some of the prisoners are taking it upon themselves to fix history. It seems that the future isn't able to handle the responsibility." A man with a woolen jacket, leather pants, and long socks sat down next to Maurice. He had an accent, but she did not recognize it. He didn't seem as wildly garbed as others were, so he was likely not ancient, nor would she assume that his culture was vastly different. She had been against the wall of the communal living quarters, hugging her legs. She hadn't expected to be approached by anyone.

"What time are you from?" she inquired quietly.

"1800s. Austria. My name's Max. Max Shmuck. You?"

"Maurice Zhang, 1950s. US."

"Hmm, so a lady of the future."

Feeling more brave past the first words, Maurice answered: "If you want to call me that. I am, compared to you I suppose. The future is infinite however, so there are many ladies who fall under the same description."

Max just shrugged. "Is the past finite then?"

"It's a question that depends on many things. Is there a god; gods? Does time exist without matter? Is time linear, or is the past deleted as soon as the present is attained? Obviously the latter is not true, so the question is now of exactly how linear time is. Does it branch? Does it extend further than this, or has the infinite future not yet grasped infinity? The action of the time machine could not be repeated, so if this is so, then we are surely at the maximum."

"A smart lady, I like that."

"A well-read lady. Are you hitting on me?"

"Hitting-on? I am not hitting you, am I too close?" The Austrian shifted away from her.

Of course one new to English would not understand every idiom. "No, no. Are you..." It suddenly felt like a silly thing to say, so Maurice dropped it. "Did you want to see me for something?"

"Ah yes. As I was saying, a group of prisoners have been wanting to do what the museum people should have done: fix history. Apparently those men that nabbed us also managed to mess up time. Some of the others are staging an uprising of sorts. We are always guarded, but several have been recording shifts and planning. They are looking for people to come with them. Sounds interesting, doesn't it?"

"Are you trying to recruit me?"

"I'm giving you the option to recruit yourself. I'm just helping spread the word. I'm considering it myself, and it doesn't hurt to tell a few people. If you do want to do it, meet the group there in two days at 0400." He pointed to the entrance of the basement prison. "They will sneak into the time machine room and divide into groups to solve the smallest yet largest problems. I'll see you there maybe." He stood, and waved her a casual farewell before wandering off to spread the news.

#

"... batrachotomus."

"Is that a dinosaur?" asked Maurice. She, Barbara, and Max were scouting the area, apparently en route to a pre-planned destination. Barbara had been explaining the mission to them.

The British woman shook her head. She sounded just a bit posh because of the accent, but Maurice found that she was quite reasonable, and around her age. Barbara had been one of the earlier group members, and knew more intel than Maurice. "No, it is an archosaur. More like a crocodile. What apparently happened, is that the activities of the men that came here before disturbed the meeting of a certain pair. This was significant because their child was to become a dominant predator. His non-existence will throw off the balance of things in a few years, and this will cascade into an even large effect in a few more years. At least that is what the official report hinted at."

"So we have to play matchmaker with dinosaurs?"

"Archosaurs, and it sounds silly, but yes."

"It does sound silly. How could we even find them?"

"I lifted some scanning devices from the time machine. Max has them."

Maurice looked backwards to Max, who had been lagging slightly behind them. He gave a slight smile lifted a bag which she guessed held the scanners of interest.

Barbara continued, "I myself am unsure of exactly how to use them. In fact, we have arrived. This area is adjacent to the territory that the two occupy. Now would be a good time to figure out how to use the scanner. I'm sure we could find archosaurs without trouble, but we are looking for two specifically." This was true. Every time they got close to a body of water, the reptiles were abundant. Even away from water, they sometimes found themselves having to change direction to avoid them. It was scary, but thrilling compared to the museum.

It turned out that the destination was a clearing. One of the palms had fallen, giving them ample seating to rest and mess with the settings on one of the scanners. Luckily, the scanner automatically knew what time period they were in, and the settings had neatly arranged themselves to be convenient. Maurice had to scroll down selections of options, but she eventually found the correct keys.

*Locate

*Biosignatures

*Archosaur

*Batrachotomus

The last menu provided two options.

.Search All

.Specify

"How do we specify which dino- pardon, archosaurs to locate?" asked Maurice.

"Their IDs should be in the official report. Max."

Max obliged, pulling a tablet out of the bag. Apparently he had been the designated bearer of electronics.

They activated the tablet and searched through the documents until they found the numbers that they were looking for. Maurice input both of them. The scanner slowly loaded a map which showed the locations of the two archosaurs as red dots. Their location was represented as a green arrow in the center.

"Now how do we make them meet?"

"We could always make them chase us," suggested Max heartily.

"We may have to do that." Barbara took the scanner and seem to be deep in contemplation.

Max raised a brow. "Can I take that back?"

"No. Now who is the one who gets to do it?" Barbara asked as if thinking.

"I vote Hunaphu," volunteered Max, referencing the Mayan. "I swear that man's made of steel. If he got bit, the lizard probably wouldn't be able to puncture his skin."

"I don't know about," teased Maurice. "Do you think Max might be stretching the truth to get himself out of something?"

Barbara laughed with her for just a few seconds before returning to the matter at hand. "In all seriousness, the 'lizards' are only a few dozen meters apart. Now would be the best time to do it before we end up having to bridge kilometers. The male appears to be moving. He must be hungry, and I think he would be willing to chase you."

"I hate this."

"Well me and Maurice are wearing skirts, so it has to be you. Go pursue your dream of being archosaur bait. We'll watch from a distance. Be sure not to run in a straight line, it isn't built for turning, and your path will determine whether it catches you or not."

"Wait, how fast is this thing?"

Barbara pushed the scanner into his hands. "I guess we'll find out soon. If you die, maybe we'll save you with the time machine."

She said "maybe" as if she was joking, but Maurice realized that indeed there was a questioning aspect to it. How frequently could they use the time machine before they caused more issues than the museum did? While she enjoyed the Austrian, she couldn't say that he was worth time itself.

They trekked towards the male's dot. They spotted him from a distance. Max paused to gather which direction he would have to lead the beast, before approaching. Barbara and Maurice obscured themselves in the foliage, making sure to be on guard for other predators.

Maurice hadn't realized how large it was until Max approached. It had to be more than three times Max's height in length. Perhaps it was eighteen- no twenty feet long. She couldn't be sure without a measuring tape, and that was certainly something she did not want to measure.

It noticed Max from far and began to prowl closer, like a mountain lion. Perhaps it did not have the patience of the modern crocodile. Max didn't wait any longer to run, heading towards the female's direction. A few dozen precious meters. The male chased him, waddling quickly and dangerously.

Barbara and Maurice followed, not wanting to let Max and the creature get too far away. They approached another river bank. There was a group of the batrachotomus lazing about. Most were slightly smaller, and Maurice guessed that they were females. Max had shimmied up a deciduous tree in a surprise show of agility. His pursuer gave up, but now seemed interested in the newfound herd of females. He immediately began to dally with them, rearing upwards and spreading his jaws fiercely. The females seemed impressed, and turned their heads towards him.

One challenger stood in his way. It was O King Terrible, enemy of time and womanizer of the riverbank batrachotomus! This new male emerged from his flock of women, clearly the dominant batrachotomus of the area. The hero, the handsome archosaur knight huffed indignantly, clearly not amused with the antics of the tyrant. He had all his lizard love to give, he would not let this fool get in his way.

The two rose on their hind legs before crashing all of their weight down and biting at each other's necks. The females cleared the area around them, admiring from afar as they were fought over by the local hottie handsome stranger. The 'stranger' might have winked at them and said a few brave lines and flirted with them while in combat, and they might have swooned and fainted, their lizard-maiden-hearts unable to handle the burden, and- of course this did not happen. Maurice found it fun to imagine.

The king of the lady batrachotomus was defeated, and the new male replaced him. Max dropped from his place on the tree and the group began to head back to the machine. Before they left, they saw the male snap up a smaller archosaur, perhaps the progeny of the previous male. So it seemed he would not go hungry.

"He will breed with all of the batrachotomus in that group. If he is challenged again and dies, it does not matter, as long as he produces offspring with the female first. The current loser is not dead, but his wounds will become infected or he will die of blood loss. Perhaps another archosaur will eat him first." Barbara explained this matter-of factly.

"I feel a bit bad," whispered Max.

"Don't," said Barbara. And that was that.

Spot 12: ZSB2000

Ujarak reached over and pushed Kjell's braids out of his face and brushed the loose hairs from his darkened eye.

"Looks better. You should have slept more last night. The guards might give you a hard time today," Ujarak said.

Kjell leaned away from his father's touch and mumbled an acknowledgment. He was being babied. Ever since they were dragged into this place, Ujarak had become more maternal. It wasn't what Kjell wanted – or needed. He needed to be a man and he couldn't do that with someone over his shoulder all the time. He was thankful he even had his father, but it was like Ujarak didn't even notice how he had decked three guards before they even laid a finger on him.

They were wary of him now, even as they gathered up all of the other prisoners in the basement their glares bore holes into his head.

A kid rammed into his side and clutched his arm. "I can't find Clara!" The translator in his ear spoke over his native language.

Turgen was why he lashed out the day before. The kid was worried about a skinny girl he knew and lost his cool. Kjell couldn't stand to watch one of those brutes beat him so he intervened. It just seemed right.

There was a spark in his heart that wouldn't die. Turgen had that spark, too. Maybe that's why he liked the kid so much?

"Clara?" Kjell craned his neck over the gathering crowd. He couldn't quite pick out her face. He looked back to Turgen and shrugged. "We see later," he said in broken English. He didn't know much, but it was worth practicing.

Clara was a woman who showed kindness to all who would allow her. She had somewhat adopted Turgen. She was an inspiration to those with little hope. She held her head high without making a sound. Even some of the guards seemed to be gentle with her.

Ujarak shook his son's shoulder. "Kjell."

Kjell raked his eyes over the group once more before paying attention to Kenneth's man standing in front of them. He made an important announcement to the group.

It would not be a normal day.

The guards started pulling people in different directions. It wasn't until Kjell heard his name called that he realized he and his father were separated.

"Fader!" He shouted as he tried to rip away from the guard's grip. The farther they were separated, the harder Ujarak raged until they were in completely different rooms. When finally Kjell couldn't hear his booming voice, a terrible unsettled feeling rose in his stomach.

He took it back. He would endure all his father's babying if it meant he could be by his side.

*

Nafanua adjusted her coat and pulled the fur away from her neck. The thing was bulky and uncomfortable. The fur tickled. But it was going to keep her from freezing to death.

"Falerius, you have... knowing... about ice place?"

Falerius frowned at hovering display above his wrist. He was the only one of the group who could understand the thing.

"Yes. We should not encounter anything I do not know about."

"Good."

Nafanua looked at the others as they waited or helped each other fasten their coats. It was a strange group, but there were valuable members. She didn't mean to become their leader, but she was the only one who had been any sort of authority in her own time.

Falerius had a quick mind and extensive knowledge, but he lacked the will to give orders. In this challenge, she knew she could depend on him for ideas and trust his judgement.

Rhonda was young and full of determination. She had the resolve, but she was not wise. Her ability to make others forget their woes for at least a moment was something Nafanua hoped would help when meeting people from this "Ice Age".

Una was too young. There was an unstoppable gleam in her eye. Besides, she had already declared she would be loyal to Nafanua. As a warrior herself, she understood Una's drive.

Clara was a gentle soul who led more from the back than the front. She raised spirits and looked after the two youngest.

Kjell and Turgen were inseparable. Their mutual instinct for survival bonded them. Nafanua could see potential in the older boy, but fear and hesitation clouded his future.

Nafanua still questioned their presence at all and tried to refuse them, but the guards wouldn't have it. Sending anyone to fix your own problems is bad enough, but sending children to do it is unthinkable.

"We have no idea what we're doing? Oh, that's great. I swear to god if I get frostbite Imma sue Kenneth so hard he won't even get to keep his speedos," Rhonda complained.

"Aye, I feel the same," Una said, "But opening yer trap don't help."

"Maybe you should take your own advice," Rhonda snapped back.

"Stop! We go now." Nafanua kept the bickering from turning into anything unpleasant.

She could feel the air shift as they stared at the door. A blue film lay over the image of the other side, but there was one thing you could see clearly – it was storming.

"Can't we wait a few hours before charging in?" Rhonda asked.

Nafanua glanced at the guards. Her group was one of the last to leave and it looked like they were impatient. "No."

They formed a chain where one held onto the belt in front of them so no one would get lost. She was the first to go, closing her eyes and bracing herself against the wind. It stung like poison over her face and the snowflakes made it hard to open her eyes. She could feel each one slam into her cheek. Breathing felt like fire to her lungs and nose, nearly making her cough. She had never experienced such cold in her life.

"Just keep walking!" Falerious shouted over the wind when she paused.

The walk seemed like hours through the harsh storm. They couldn't feel their toes and their fingers stiffened around their belts. Fatigue settled in on the younger ones first. The adults knew how to push through the burn, but it ebbed away at their will.

The wind defied them, furious that they should continue. The howling grew louder and louder until it sounded like a hundred whooping voices.

"Nafanua!" Falerius shook her concentration from the trudging. "The voices! It's not the wind!"

"What?"

"They are to our left! We should follow them!"

Nafanua agreed by changing course. She listened carefully to the sounds and aimed her steps toward them.

The sounds grew stronger until in an instant they disappeared.

A knot formed in Nafanua's stomach, but she had to keep going. After a few more steps her boot hit something solid. She brushed away the snow with her boot to reveal rock.

She looked up to realize they had approached a cliff.

"Is that a cave?" Rhonda's voice was barely heard and her pointing gesture was hardly visible.

"We look!" Nafanua shouted, starting for the gap in the rock.

It was just big enough for her to squeeze in and the others followed. Relief washed over them as their faces recovered from the storm.

The cave widened the farther in they walked. It was still, dark, and eerie. Nafanua insisted they keep formation so no one was lost in the pitch black space.

Fire lit up their faces and two figures carrying torches loomed over them on a ledge.

"Why have you returned? Have you brought more death? Speak now or we will end your lives," one of them spoke with a growl beneath his voice. An archer appeared besides him, his arrow pointed straight at Nafanua's head.

"We are here to help! We do not wish to harm you," Nafanua said. Her translator relayed the message.

"The others proved you do not need weapons to bring death. If any of you are diseased, get out. We will not tolerate any more illness," the man said.

"Well, now we don't have to figure out what's wrong," Rhonda muttered.

Falerius spoke up, "We are not ill, but we may have medicine to help you!"

Nafanua looked back at him in confusion.

"The guards allowed me to take one of their medicine boxes," Falerius whispered.

The man nodded to the archer and he loosened his bow. "We will try your medicine."

*

Falerius frowned and shook his head at the bottle in his palm. "I know very little about these substances if not at all. The information in my wrist encyclopedia is limited."

"That's penicillin. I hear it's great stuff. I think I had some at the hospital at one point? I don't know but I thought it was groovy then," Rhonda shrugged.

Falerius couldn't understand the word 'groovy' and his translator didn't seem to, either.

"Is that good? Should we use it for the infections?" he asked.

"I mean, worth a shot."

They were gathered in an area of the cave with a warm fire in the center and the sick propped up around the walls. The disease had been a severe infection passed from person to person. It was their lack of hygiene that caused the spread.

Nafanua was conversing with the people's leader, asking questions about their lifestyle. Falerius wished he could learn with her, but he was put to the task of finding something to stave off the infections. His curiosity would have to wait.

The native people were shy at first, but they opened up to Clara and the two boys. Rhonda had been a point of interest until she started to bicker with Una. They were forced to sit opposite sides of the room to avoid chaos.

Falerius approached Clara who was rocking a baby beside its weakened mother.

"I am administering this drug to those with the infection. Please have the woman swallow this when she awakes."

Clara nodded and took the capsule. "What about the child? Shouldn't he have one?"

He shook his head, "No, I want to know the effects on the adults first. It may be too strong for infants."

As Falerius gave out the medicine, he was stopped by Kjell.

"When they heal?" the boy asked.

"I cannot say. We may have to wait hours or even days."

A shadow fell over Kjell's face. "Okay."

*

Turgen clapped his hands together and with the hands of the boy sitting opposite of him. In the last two days, Turgen had taught most of the children his favorite sequences of paired clapping. It had been a long time since he'd had so much fun. He was fed, taken care of, and made friends. There was no prospect of being caught by a Mongol soldier and no chance of a guard hitting him if he misbehaved.

He was happy. He didn't want to leave.

The only thing that hurt him was how much he missed his family. Whenever he watched the cave parents talk to their children, his heart ached for his own. Clara loved him and cared for him as if she were his own, but it wasn't the same. She didn't know his favorite lullaby. She didn't know how he liked his rice cooked. She didn't know how wild he felt inside whenever he laid eyes on a horse.

He realized it didn't matter where – or when – you were. The world was always unfair.

Turgen and his friend gasped as a man was thrown on the ground at the room's entrance.

"This demon is here for you," the scout announced as he poked the man with the blunt end of his spear.

"What does he want?" Nafanua snapped. She was no kinder to Kenneth's guard than the people here.

The guard grunted and sat up on his knees, "Kenneth needs you back. You've taken too long."

Falerius jumped to his feet. "Not yet! We only just witnessed the effects of the drug. You can return and bring us more."

"You say it's working? Then you can leave," the guard scoffed.

"Yo, are you nuts? We can't just leave now!" Rhonda butted in.

Una flipped a large stone in her hand. "Would Kenneth notice if we buried you in the snow?"

Nafanua raised her hand to Una, "No!"

The guard laughed, "If you refuse to come back with me, or try to resist Kenneth, he will come after you. He might even kill you if needed. You're just artifacts to him. If you're more trouble than you're worth he'll smash you."

"Nafanua, please," Falerius begged.

"No, we have no power. He's right."

"But—"

"Get your medicine box. We're leaving."

*

There was no storm this time and the sun reflected off the snow, blinding everyone as they trudged through. It was too calm.

Clara wasn't one to get angry, but she couldn't help but feel slighted by their ease of return. It was as if God wanted them to return to that torturous place.

The pain she saw in the expressions of all who said goodbye struck her heart. It was difficult to stand.

Turgen cried as they exited the cave, though he tried to hide it. Her comfort didn't mean much in the face of hell.

At least the people in the caves knew what to do, now. They would not die out as they would have without it.

She only hoped that any efforts could ease the souls of those around her. She would give and love until it killed her.

Spot 13: TheCrazyMeifwaGirl

The Jewish boy sits in the dank, dim corner of the prison cell, trembling as tears continually stream down his tanned cheeks. He had barely said a word to anyone he shared the wretched room with, barely understanding English. A young, Israelite lady was sitting next to him, stroking his dark-cocoa hair and comforting him in soft, Hebrew words. The young preteen, Shmuel Ableman, only knew Polish and Hebrew as his main two languages, which made it very hard to communicate with anyone.

"It will be alright, young one...Have faith in God."

The female said gently in a Hebrew tongue, her long brown hair braided up and her deep eyes kind. Shmuel had kept to her side as soon as he was within the cell, the Polish boy only able to understand her for most of the time. He mostly kept to himself, scaring easily whenever someone tried to converse with him besides the Israelite.

A very Roman looking man, wearing a ruffled white and red toga, his silver eyes in a constantly irritated look, was interrogating the others within the cell in English and Latin, already having tried to speak with Shmuel only to be warded off by the Israelite lady who seemed to be caring for him for the time being. Shmuel now swallowed what little moisture was caked within his mouth, the poor boy having been crying for possibly hours before the kind lady had helped him regain his composure.

A young man with dusty looking clothes and a Henry rifle slung behind his back, just shy of thirty, was speaking with a little Portuguese girl even younger than Shmuel and trying to teach her basic English. She struggled to pronounce a few words, the man, Arthur Forger, only encouraging her on with a voice holding a noticeable mid-western American accent.

Shmuel took note of the kind gesture from across the room, hugging his greyish overcoat around himself as the cell was quite chilly and drafty. A young lady wearing a white bonnet and beautiful, blue linen dress conversed, with some difficulty, with a Renaissance painter with a rudimentary grasp on the English language. The bonnet-wearing woman had almost a British accent, though with a North-American tiny attached to it.

"It boggles the mind, I must say, that I am speaking with an artist who lived hundreds of years before God formed me in his hands.."

The young woman, Josephine, says in a wonder-laced voice. The painter, Joseph Greggors, nods in agreement. He still did not understand the majority of the English language, but he was making his way to being perfectly fluent in the new language. An artist must understand languages for trade purposes, of course.

Shmuel begins to talk with the Catholic woman beside him, his fear slowly declining as it had been for the duration of the time he had been there.

"You're from the...fourteen-hundreds, right?"

He questions in Hebrew, the woman, Elizabeth, looking down to him before lowering herself into a comfortable sitting position.

"I am indeed, young man. You look quite similar to me, with your mother being from Israel as you said."

Elizabeth says with a soft, disarming smile, Shmuel scooting closer to the kind woman and sighing.

"I don't like it here..."

Shmuel says as he allows himself to lean on the young woman's shoulder, his huge brown eyes watching the slight discord of the room as the Roman citizen, Argenti, begins a heated debate about how the world works with Joseph, the artist from the Renaissance.

Shmuel tries to tune it out, as does the Union soldier trying to teach Mariana, the Portuguese girl, simple English words like hello, goodbye, and other words in a similar fashion. Mariana gave countless attempts at pronouncing the vowels and consonants, eventually succeeding as she says, "H..Hello Arthur!"

The Missouri grown farmer-turned-soldier musses up her hair in a friendly gesture, smiling greatly.

"Good job!"

He states in a praising way, Miriam beaming as they both begin work on speaking other words.

The cell itself is made of dark stone, the seams of mortar nearly invisible in the floors and walls because of how snugly each block of sturdy rock fits together like a puzzle piece. Long, reinforced steel bars separate the chilly, monochrome prison from the corridors beneath the National Museum of History, the halls themselves neat and quite devoid of life. No guards were present there at this time, making the museum eerily silent and every small sound echo through the halls, nothing in its way to disturb its journey to its final destination of the many ears within the prison cell deep below ground. It's dismal, the light within the cell practically nonexistent. The lighting itself, outside of the cell, is dim.

"THIRTY ELEMENTS!?"

Argenti gapes at the artist after exclaiming the phrase in Latin, Joseph nodding swiftly. Argenti huffs, writing this down on the scrolls he had managed to keep and a pencil he had managed to swipe. A fine writing tool it was, if bland looking. More convenient than chiseling everything into stone tablets.

"What else shall you spring at me, that the Earth is round?"

He says in a humorous manner, though is, much to his utter surprise, met with a serious nod. Joseph has his hat taken off of his head, his clothes still paint splattered from his last project.

"The Earth is round..I side with the Copernican theory instead of Ptolemy's old teachings...it is just much more plausible!"

Joseph explains himself, Argenti seeming lost for words.

Elizabeth looks out and around herself, sighing as she holds the young boy by her side. He was so distraught when she had arrived here, unable to understand anything anybody said to him until she had knelt down beside him and spoke to him in hushed, calming Hebrew. The boy, who's name she now knew was Shmuel, was now completely inseparable from her; even though he knew full well that she was a Gentile.

It was extremely difficult to understand him at times because of the heavy Polish accent that was held in his Hebrew words, but Elizabeth understood his troubles. She had a hard time learning how to pronounce other languages at his age, too. In fact, she was still in the process of learning modern English, for her own English that she had learned had many words or even phrases that had been discarded over the many, many years that had apparently passed till this point in time. She held small conversations from time to time with the other people within the cell, using the languages she knew or making signs with her hands to try an communicate the best she could with her fellow prison mates currently held hostage in this subterranean holding zone. If only she had more within her pockets than a Rosary...

Arthur and Mariana were now completely inseparable, joint at the hip. The little girl wouldn't dare to leave his side, her Portuguese tongue still reigning supreme over her newly learned English. Arthur often carried the ten year old around, his arms strong from heaving sacks of grain from the gin to the barn or silo they were to be stored inside.

He was walking along the perimeter of the jail cell, rubbing the little girl's back as to keep her calm; her pale, thin arms were wrapped around his neck, tight as a gallow noose. He didn't want such a small, and slightly underdeveloped child to get too nervous or scared. He knew an atmosphere like this would do it to any child..that included young men in the Union barracks. He had seen a few young teens enlist under a fake age and have their minds absolutely broken...the soldier felt his heart crack a little at the memory of those shell shocked boys sent home to their mamas in those white mental jackets. He didn't what the children within this room to suffer the same, dreadful fate..

Arthur took a deep breath, leaning down to the lock on the door and bringing his bayonet out of the holder next to his rifle. Josephine stops attempting to break up the heated argument between Argenti and Joseph, looking toward the scraping click that can be heard as Arthur begins to pick the lock. The early American girl stands up, walking to the Missourian. She offers to take the girl in his arms so he could complete his duty faster, to which Arthur obliges. It takes a bit to get Mariana to let go, and a lot of coaxing.

After about half an hour of picking at the lock, hitting it, and trying to saw it off, the group quietly and stealthily makes their way out into the hallway. Arthur leads the way, his rifle out and ready as he leads the six other "time travelers" through the foreboding halls. Shmuel hangs tight onto Elizabeth, the Catholic woman letting his hands clutch the white skirts of her dress. Argenti has a bronze dagger in hand, the dull orange-gold blade glinting in the dim lighting of the deep, underground holding chamber of a prison. Shmuel glances about with twitchy, nervous movements, his big brown eyes scanning the darkened walls before resting upon something he recognizes; it's an elevator, a holopad hovering just off the wall with two buttons, one pointing upwards and the other down.

"An elevator! Elizabeth, there's an elevator!"

He exclaims in Hebrew, pointing a bit frantically towards the wall as the woman turns her head to see it. She pushes past a few in the group, putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder and gesturing in the direction of the elevator once the soldier looks her way.

Arthur makes sure the group can see him before walking quite quickly for the metal, shining doors. Shmuel quickly presses the UP button, the doors opening a few minutes later. The elevator is rather large, and has enough room for at least ten people. Argenti examines the machine, though doesn't stop to take notes as he rushes inside with the others. Shmuel bites his lip, trying to remember what floor the time machine has stopped at when they all had been taken to this future world. He presses the button for the floor just above them, not knowing where to go quite properly yet. Soon, the elevator begins to travel upwards to the next floor, jolting a few of the historical figures except for Shmuel. Once the elevator opens up, Arthur raises his rifle in defense in case there would be someone there. Mercifully, no one resides within this stretch of the museum at this time, allowing him to whisper, "Come!" to all of the people behind him.

Quietly and swiftly, the seven make their collective way to the room in which the Time Machine is kept. Maybe...maybe they could get home, if they are all lucky enough. Joseph has his blunt knife, a mundane weapon, as self defense, the Renaissance man sighting the very room in which it is kept after about thirty minutes of intense searching. He calls something out i a loud whisper, saying "I've found it!!" In Latin. The others translate it into English for those who do not know how to speak the language, Arthur quickly scooping up Mariana and running into the room.

All of them, no one excluded, makes their way into the huge, humming machine. The buzzing hum makes Shmuel cringe back, though he steps inside as Arthur seals the door behind the seven. Arthur rushes to the holo that controls the machine, bringing up a screen and beginning to search for their times before something catches his eyes. A red blip, shining like a ripe cherry on the side of the screen, rests in the Prehistoric era. Shmuel comes up to the screen, brushing his fluffy brown hair out of his eyes.

"Trouble..?"

He asks the man in heavily accented English, Arthur nodding his head as his hand hovers over it.

"Sure does look like it, kid."

He says a bit quietly to the boy, Elizabeth stepping up beside him, followed by Joseph, Argenti, and Josephine.

"Something wrong with God's Creation?"

Elizabeth inquires, her voice beginning to become worried as her dark eyes seem to swirl with slight fear.

Argenti hits the button, his bright silver eyes narrowed.

"This man has done no good for me. He shall not shatter history any more than it already is."

the Roman says in English, a determined look in his liquid mercury eyes as the machine begins to whir and start to move. Mariana screams, starting to cry as Arthur tries to comfort her. The motion begins to accelerate, throwing everyone off kilter and leaving the mass of people in a heap on the floor. The doors slide open, revealing an absolutely breathtaking sight. The sun was just beginning to rise, Its beautiful, golden streams of light arching across the sky and hitting the huge, glimmering lake of water in front of the Time Machine. It was absolutely breathtaking, Elizabeth nearly falling to her knees and praising the Lord Jesus. There was no time for that, however, as it was soon seen that there was a massive problem. Billowing clouds of smoke were belched over the horizon by an absolutely terrifying wildfire. It was ripping through the forest and even over water, killing anything else in its path and reducing everything to ashes floating through the air. If there were any small species that were with in this area, they would go completely extinct... And that wildfire was completely out of control, spanning for dozens of miles across the land. It was a fire of epic proportions, and needed to be stopped...but how did it start?

Josephine's eyes widen in horror at the sight.

"We've got to go back in time and stop it!! Maybe a few days!?"

She half shouts, Argenti already sprinting to the holo and slamming the doors shut. He remembered how to go back in time even further from taking careful mental notes while being captured, the machine whirring for a few seconds before opening up in the location of the start of the fire; the smoking carcass of a lightning struck tree that was beginning to light fire to the dead grass around it. Shmuel swallows nervously as he watches Argenti and Arthur nearly trip each other, the younger Roman man cursing in Latin at the soldier. Arthur had told Mariana to stay put as the flames began to grow larger, taking his thick coat off before sprinting and beginning to smother the flames. Others with coats, namely Joseph and Shmuel, catch onto his idea. Starve the fire of fuel, and it will extinguish. Slowly, very slowly, the fire begins to recede into nothing but smoldering ashes as Argenti barks an order to the others.

"Get loose plants away!!"

He orders a bit aggressively, Elizabeth using Joseph's blunt knife to dig a trench around the tree to further stop it. It takes even longer to fully subdue the flames, Josephine using her bonnet to soak the surrounding area and charred tree in cool water. Arthur runs back to the Machine, covered in ashy mud as he checks the Prehistoric era.

There is no longer a red blip.

He sighs in sincere relief, Argenti walking proudly into the Machine. He's followed by Shmuel, who is coughing and nursing a burnt arm with the help of Elizabeth.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a reason to this certain group of people had been taken from their times.