A Troglian knows Read online

  PROFESSOR BRADSHAW led the way along the wall of the building to an army jeep painted in camouflage green. He sat in the driver’s seat looking for the guard.

  Jake leaned sideways. “I think the soldiers are too busy searching for you elsewhere. If we hurry I believe a clean escape is assured.”

  The Professor gave a sharp nod, revved the engine and the jeep was on the move. They drove straight through the open front wire gate and headed south at ninety degrees to the airport. In minutes, they were snaking their way along the coast road. Behind them, Darwin lay in ruins. Billowing black smoke could be seen from the industrial side close to the sea.

  “Does this automobile go any faster?” asked Jake.

  “I’ve pushed the pedal to the metal.”

  Jasmine scrunched her nose, looking slightly doubtful.

  Jake leaned over the side of the jeep to watch the road slip past. “I can now understand why this contraption moves so slowly. The wheels are touching the ground.” He caught the Professor staring at him. “It’s part of the explanation. If nothing else, the noise will slow the Troglian.”

  “Is that a good thing?” asked the Professor.

  Both Jake and Jasmine were nodding seriously.

  The Professor slowed the jeep on a bend then turned up a narrow dirt road. Pockmarks littered the middle where vehicles had bounced their way to the top. Deep crevasses had formed on both sides of the track to aid in channeling the rainwater towards the ocean far below. The cliff face opened onto a large plateau. The jeep pulled up outside a small conservative house. Weatherboards and not bricks lined the outside walls. A large gum tree grew in the front yard taking up most of the space. The garden bed, full of medium sized bushes lined the drop-off. Except for a small patch of grass in the north corner of the block, the rest of the land was compacted dirt.

  A tall thin woman, long red hair tied back in a tight ponytail, met the three before they had a chance to step down from the jeep.

  “Charles what’s going on? I was worried for your safety when I heard the report on the radio Darwin was being bombed.”

  “The kids?” asked the Professor.

  “The school bus dropped the kids close to home. They’re in the backyard. Who are these two children?”

  “Victoria, these are special guests. They have an incredible story to tell.”

  “Why do you have a black eye?”

  “There’s no time to pack anything,” reported Jake barging through the front door.

  Jasmine followed him into the first room on their left. A large radio in a corner was playing a slow melody.

  “Hold on a moment, young man,” growled Victoria. Her tone of voice relayed she wasn’t happy at the intrusion by two young strangers.

  “Please, we have to get ready to leave,” said Jasmine.

  “Has leaving anything to do with the Troglian?” asked the Professor.

  “Yes,” said Jake.

  “Please, you have to explain everything.”

  Jake cleared his throat. “We owe you that much.”

  Professor Bradshaw’s wife folded her arms. “I demand you tell me what’s going on? I will not be bullied into leaving my home by you or anyone.”

  Professor Charles Bradshaw raised an eyebrow at Jake who in turn looked across at his sister. She had decided to sit on a seat staring directly at Victoria.

  “I’m waiting,” growled Mrs. Bradshaw.

  “This is your fault Jake, you should be the one to fill in the details,” said Jasmine, smirking.

  “I’m waiting for the explanation,” said Victoria. She tapped her flat soled shoes on the polished floorboards.

  “I’m Jake Ward. The girl sitting is my sister, Jasmine.”

  “Your sister, if you’re saying the truth, is sitting on a two seat sofa.”

  Jake gave the woman a warm smile. In return, he received an ice cold stare.

  “Please, I think we’ll be more comfortable at the dining table,” suggested the Professor. “At least not one person will be looked down on.”

  The group walked through a small doorway. The room boasted a six seat dining table and a matching mahogany coloured buffet. They sat at the same time eyeballing each other. Victoria Bradshaw sat directly opposite Jake. She folded her arms tight across her waist. It was clear there was no way she would be leaving the house in a hurry.

  Jake’s story was well rehearsed.

  “In 1942AD, or our history books have told us, a man, you, Professor, had an idea people can travel through time.”

  Charles Bradshaw lifted his hand to interrupt. “There’s not one person alive who knows anything about my work, not even Victoria has an ounce of knowledge on what I’ve been trying to achieve.”

  “We’ve been taught your wife vanished on the day of the Darwin bombing.”

  “Vanished?” questioned Victoria Bradshaw.

  “Yes, though there has been no record of what actually happened, Jasmine and I have uncovered the truth.”

  “And that is?” asked Victoria, looking doubtful.

  “Professor, you were whisked away to the insane asylum for the duration of your life. I have started to change history.”

  “If what you say is true, won’t you be in trouble?” quizzed Victoria.

  “Yes and no. In the year 2245AD the world is at peace. Mankind’s ultimate goal is for knowledge.”

  “What year did you say?”

  “2245AD,” said Jasmine, interrupting.

  Victoria shook her head. “Young man; how old are you?”

  “Fifteen,” said Jake. “Jasmine’s actually older than me by thirty seconds.”

  “That clearly explains everything. You two are either having a joke at our expense or you are in need of attention.”

  Jake’s shoulders slumped. “I thought convincing you might have been a tad less effort.”

  “You thought wrong,” jeered Victoria. “Can’t your mind distinguish fact from fiction?”

  “What about the fact the soldiers are after you and your idea of time travel, Professor?” questioned Jasmine, rushing to back up her brother.

  Through hurt eyes, Charles looked across the table at his wife.

  “I have to take the kids’ side. Soldiers did arrest me, gave me a black eye and confiscated my briefcase.”

  “At the moment history hasn’t been completely changed,” said Jake. “It’s only slightly altered.’

  “Then I could still spend the rest of my life locked away.”

  “Yes. It’s is a real possibility,” reported Jake.

  “There is an alternative,” suggested Jasmine.

  “What’s that?”

  “You have to come back to the year 2245AD.”

  “I can’t leave my wife.”

  Jake dropped his gaze to the fruit bowl in the middle of the table.

  “What’s the look for?” asked the Professor.

  “History books have recorded your wife died in the bombing raid.”

  “My kids?”

  “There’s no mention you had kids,” mumbled Jake looking up.

  Victoria Bradshaw stood. Leaning on the table, she spat. “Young man, unless you have proof of what you are saying it is time for you to leave. Take your sister and go home. I have taught many children with more imagination than you two combined. I know a liar when I hear one. And you, Charles, how could you entertain this practical joke?”

  Jake stood. “I am no liar.”

  Professor Bradshaw glared at his wife.

  “Charles, are you going to sit there and listen to the yarn these two are spinning?”

  “Yes. I have seen first-hand what they are saying is true. They need listening to.”

  Jake said calmly, directing his words at Victoria.

  “I guess the only way to cut to the crux of our tale is to simply show you. Jasmine, please start up the cloaking sequence.”

  “There’s not enough juice left in the battery.”

  “Great. What we need is a couple minutes of su
nlight.”

  Jasmine’s eyes sparkled. “Hold that thought. We’ll use electricity.”

  “You sound surprised?” questioned Victoria.

  “We have no use for the substance in 2245AD.”

  “This ought to be good. What do you use?” she asked.

  “Solar energy all the way,” Jasmine replied.

  Jake walked over to a power point, pressed a series of buttons on the unit’s glass face panel and waited for the red light to turn green.

  “What is it you are actually doing?” asked the Professor walking over.

  “The sensor box is using Bluetooth to collect the electrons in the electricity and in turn they’ll charge the battery. While we’re waiting to show you the confirmation of our tale I’ll water down the rest.”

  “Please, do,” said the Professor. “I’m more than interested.”

  “I have always liked a good fairytale,” said Victoria.

  “Professor, in 2052AD a man known as the Keeper discovered your briefcase in the government archives. Your ideas on time travel were perfectly preserved. He developed a Timeportation machine and took all the credit you deserve.”

  “Unbelievable,” he muttered.

  “The Keeper went back in time to 85 million years BC. He found a prehistoric dog known to us as a Troglian. He brought several back. The Keeper realized he couldn’t breed them due to the fact they are all males and if I need to add, they are ugly.”

  “They are not ugly,” growled Jasmine.

  Jake glanced sideways at his sister. “Each to their own. The Keeper quickly discovered they are extremely intelligent and can track anything. Time and space proved to be no obstacle. To do this a Troglian deploys a scout fly out of its mouth. The small winged creature resembles the size and shape of a bee which follows the person’s DNA. It’s accurate to within a millimetre.”

  “A millimetre?” questioned Victoria, angling her eyebrows to a point. “I have never taught that unit of measure. Living in Australia in 1942, I teach feet and inches.”

  “What’s that?” asked Jake.

  “Don’t you know twelve inches makes a foot?” She had folded her arms tighter about her waist and was looking angrier by the second.

  “The unit of measure changed about 1975. I read about it a few years back,” quoted Jasmine, interrupting.

  “Seeing how you came from the future, I thought you would have been more accurate,” grumbled Victoria.

  “I can see where this conversation is heading,” said Jake. “The metric system was phased in over a number of years.”

  “Don’t give out too much info. You have to be careful not to change the future.”

  “Sis, you’re warning is duly noted. Is the unit ready?”

  Jasmine walked to the kitchen bench. She leaned over the unit she placed against the power point on the wall. “Almost,” she reported. “The red light has changed to yellow.”

  “You were half way through explaining your story,” said the Professor. “Please, continue.”

  Jake refocused on the man and his fuming wife.

  “It was reported four weeks after bringing a Troglian back through time the Keeper informed the world about his discovery and turned filthy stinking rich. The Timeportation centre was built and here we are.”

  “Your story is a bit sketchy,’ said Victoria.

  “We aren’t blessed with that much time,’ added Jake. He extracted the bee like creature from his pocket, placing it on the table. “Though it has the characteristics of a bee; this creature is like what you understand, ‘a homing pigeon.’ It telepathically sends the Troglian on guard at the Timeportation centre exactly what it’s looking at and where it is. If any harm comes to it, the Troglian comes running. The only thing that slows the mutt down is too much noise.”

  “The jeep,” said the Professor.

  “Exactly,” replied Jake.

  Jasmine swiped the handheld device from off the bench and marched across the room to the Professor. “I’m fully charged.”

  “This will knock your socks off,” announced Jake.

  Jasmine didn’t look too pleased with what they were about to do. She leaned close to Jake’s ear, whispering.

  “Aren’t we giving away too much information?”

  Jake shrugged. “Probably, but there’s nothing else we can do. If our idea goes according to plan everything will work out.”

  Jasmine pouted and pressed a series of buttons on the touch screen.

  Victoria’s scream was a gargle of mixed sounds. “Where did you go?”

  “We’re still here,’ whispered Jasmine, switching the machine off, instantly reappearing. “My mobile phone bends light. Any person who is closer than two metres will appear to have vanished.”

  “Are you saying the thing you’re holding is a phone?” questioned Victoria.

  “It is.”

  “Charles, can you explain any of this?”

  “Maybe, if I could study the dynamics?”

  Victoria switched her attention from her husband back to the two teenagers.

  “Tell me, do your parents know where you are?”

  “Yes and no,” said Jake. “The rest of the story might be hard to swallow, but my father works on Mars. To put things into perspective, the journey between the Earth and Mars takes fifty-one minutes.”

  “All this is a lot to take in,” said the Professor.

  “I agree,” mumbled Victoria. “Charles, you have never spoken to me of your plans to build a time machine, why?”

  “I apologize for keeping you in the dark. I wasn’t sure if it were possible. The moment I had the go ahead from the government I was going to sit you down and over a nice meal at your favourite restaurant I was going to outlay my whole plan.”

  Victoria walked over and slipped her arm around his waist.

  “Then all this talk about time travel and the light bending machine is true?”

  “It sure looks that way. Only one thing went wrong, the soldiers at the lecture arrested me. They placed me in a room and said in no uncertain terms I’ll be transported to an insane asylum within the hour. The bombing raid slowed them down.”

  “Were they the ones who gave you a black eye,” whispered Victoria, gently touching his swollen eye socket.

  “Yes. The more I tried to convince the authorities of the possibilities of time travel, they dished out worse punishment.”

  “We have given away too much information,” warned Jasmine.

  “Please, continue,” instructed Victoria. “I’d love to hear it. Now I know what Charles has been working on these past seven years, I’m convinced everything you are saying is indeed accurate.”

  “Thanks,” said Jasmine and Jake together.

  “There is one thing I’m hung up on.”

  The group stared at Victoria. “Where’s your mother?”

  “She works on the moon as a greens keeper,” advised Jasmine.

  “There’s a golf club on the moon?” said Victoria, starting to massage her left temple.

  “Sure, she looks at it as a holiday to relax. Her real job is helping to decide which planet is next to be colonized.”

  “Need I ask how long it takes to get to the moon?”

  “Three minutes,” reported Jake confidently.

  “Amazing,” said the Professor.

  “Our auntie is skiing on Neptune. We were invited to go, but Jake wanted to party. He thought seeing in the new millennium at midnight on the thirty-first December 1999 would be exciting. The party to end all parties was the report.”

  “You wanted a Troglian pup,” snarled Jake.

  “Do you two argue a lot?” asked the Professor.

  “Never,” replied Jake, confidently. “We have friendly digs at each other. We’re extra close.”

  “Tell me about the moon?” asked the Professor. “This is 1942, I can’t even begin to imagine mankind contemplating stepping a foot on the moon. Surely we didn’t reach it sooner than the year 2050.”

 
; “On the contrary, Professor,” chirped Jasmine. “Twenty-six years from now, on July 20th, 1969, Neil Armstrong was the first man to step foot on the moon. I’ve been there at least a dozen times. Scientists were successful in creating an atmosphere in 2021AD. It has green grass, water, lakes and you can even try your hand at fly fishing or golf. There are about a million people living on the moon. The rest of the planets in our solar system soon followed.”

  “The moon is boring,” added Jake.

  Jasmine said. “I have to agree with Jake. The place you want to go is the planet Alpha Centauri. We’ve never been. You have to be over eighteen. That planet boasts only the famous travel there.”

  “Incredible,” said Victoria.

  “I think we were born in the wrong time zone,” announced the Professor.

  Jake heard a jeep stop outside the front of the house, followed by three more. Eight doors squeaked open and banged shut. He bolted for the window. “The army is here. Quick, dive into the corner, we have to stay silent or they’ll hear us.”

  Jasmine stepped into the corner of the room and busied herself preparing the handheld phone. Two and a half seconds before the army broke the front door off its hinges, the group disappeared.

  “Clear,” yelled the soldiers moving from room to room.

  In minutes, the soldiers had regrouped in the middle of the dining room. None looked happy.

  “I was positive the Professor would have come here. There’s a nice padded cell he’ll warm to. The insane institute has assured me he’ll never be released.” The sergeant’s voice sounded gruff and serious. “Keep an eye out. His wife and kids will be home soon. We’ll force them to tell us where he is. He must be the craziest person I’ve ever come across; time travel, what a joke!”

  The soldiers left the house via the front door. They took up stealth positions to wait for the professor’s wife and kids to show. Each soldier prepared to pounce.

  A whispered hum filled the room. The group reappeared.

  “I’m certainly convinced of your truthfulness,” said Victoria. “I apologize for ever doubting your words.”

  Jake shrugged a shoulder. “If the roles were reversed I’d have acted the same.” He glanced at his sister who was nodding in full agreement.

  “What are we to do now?” asked the Professor. “If they find me I’ll never see my family again. I wish I’d never discovered the solution to the time travel idea.”

  “Don’t say that,” blurted Jasmine, alarmed. “The world would be a completely different place. I love the idea mankind has been at peace for over one hundred years. I can’t imagine what it was like living through the Second World War.”

  The back door squeaked open. Jasmine frantically started tapping numbers on her machine. She was almost ready to tap the start button when a low whisper made her fingers freeze in mid air. Slowly the group looked at the door.

  “What’s the ruckus outside?” asked a teenage boy.

  “Why have soldiers strategically placed themselves in the front yard?” added a young girl.

  “The soldiers came to take your father away,” announced Victoria, sighing heavily.

  “Take him to where?” asked the girl.

  “It’s a long story,” she replied. “Kids, I’d like you to meet a couple of visitors. Jake this is our daughter Alicia and her twin brother, Nic. Kids, Jake and Jasmine Ward.”

  “Gidday,” said Nic. “Are you here for a few weeks holiday?”

  “Just visiting for a couple of hours,” said Jake. He faced Alicia and raised an eyebrow. “How would you like to go to a party?”

  “I’ve been to parties before.”

  “Not like this one,” he answered, giving her a fox-like grin. Looking directly in the girl’s green eyes, he added, “I’d like to get to know you on a more, personal level.”

  “That certainly could be arranged.”

  Jasmine battered her eyelashes at Nic Bradshaw. He sidestepped closer and gave an inviting smile.

  “I hope you’d allow me to show you around sometime?”

  “I’d like that very much, but there is a more urgent need,” said Jasmine nodding at a miniature flying creature.

  “Soldiers on the outside and there’s a bee inside the house,” yelled Jake.

  “You’re not scared of a bee?” coughed Alicia, sarcastically.

  “No, but they aren’t real bees. The explanation is simple; a Troglian is on the way.”

  “I’ve never heard that word before. Care to elaborate?”

  Instead of answering, Jake’s eyes bulged. He lifted his hand to chest height, pointing to a shadow moving across the window. It wasn’t large, but the shape was unquestionable. Closing in on the shattered front door the dark shape, a silhouette in the sunlight, moved from one side of the window to the other at a snail’s pace. The shadow seemed to hesitate at the front door.

  “What the heck is it?” whispered Alicia, pointing.

  “That is a Troglian,” said Jake. “Jasmine you know what to do.”

  Jake ushered the group into the corner.

  “Hush or the Troglian will hear you,” whispered Jasmine.

  “The creature will see us if we stay in the corner,” whispered Nic. “We have to hide somewhere else.”

  Shouting in the front yard made the creature turn. At the door’s threshold the Troglian was peppered with bullets. The prehistoric dog opened its mouth. Bee like creatures flew towards the soldiers. The dense swarm was black as a moonless night. The soldiers yelled at a high pitched excruciating screech. The group inside the house huddled in the corner of the room, pushed their hands against their ears in an attempt to block out the noise. Outside the swarm broke off the chase and returned to the Troglian. When the Troglian again closed its mouth not one bee like insect could be found. It shook itself and every bullet that had been embedded in its hide fell onto the wooden veranda.

  The black Troglian entered the house. It walked about the room searching for Jake. It knew he was there, but due to the cloaking device, it became disorientated. It sat in front of the corner emitting a grunting cough, looking back at the door.

  A pinprick of light grew quickly. The group watched it fill the doorway. Alicia moved her left foot which banged against the wall. The Troglian focused in on the corner. For several seconds, it watched for confirmation it had successfully tracked Jake.

  A tall man wearing a bright green uniform and matching cap stepped through the bright doorway. He searched the room, before facing the corner where the group was standing. Walking over, he patted the Troglian who in turn wagged his over long white tipped tail.

  “I know you’re in the corner,” growled the man, clipping the long lead on the Troglian’s collar. The tone of his voice was that of a confident person. The security guard touched a few buttons on his small handheld tracker. Instantly the group reappeared.

  Jake faked a smirk. “Hello TW Morgan.”

  The uniformed guard stepped forward. “Jake Ward, you, Sir, have explaining to do.” He raised his hand to stop the chatter. “I believe these items belong to you.”

  Jake took his time card and phone out of TW Morgan’s outstretched hand. “I guess I’m in big trouble.”

  “On the contrary, Jake Ward, my Troglian has been watching your every step. He forgives you for hitting his scout.”

  “Don’t tell me, he told you that.”

  TW Morgan grinned. “No, but a Troglian knows.”

  The Troglian growled three times. The bee-like creature Jake had swatted and placed in his pocket flew over his shoulder. The Troglian opened his mouth, swallowing it whole.

  “The bee-like creature is ready for the next time you need to be tracked,” said TW Morgan. “The ruckus at the Timeportation centre wasn’t your fault. We traced the timeline back to its origin, viewed the cameras for confirmation, recovered your time card and had the Troglian on your case in a matter of minutes. It’s all in a day’s work.”

  Professor Bradshaw stepped forward. “I have a
few questions that need answering.”

  “Have no fear over your future or your family. Things work fast in 2245AD. This is where you have a choice. I have permission from the time committee to grant you citizenship in 2245AD. It’s your call. You can either come through time or allow the soldiers to take you to the insane asylum. Before you answer, let me add one thing. You, Sir, are a valuable person. You went missing in history and Jake here, found you.”

  “What about my family?”

  “If you decide to come through time then by all means your family can come too, that way history won’t have changed.”

  “What if I decide to stay right here in my house?” asked Victoria.

  TW Morgan looked at his watch. “What I am about to say will not change history. If you decide to stay, in exactly three minutes your house is accidently bombed by an unfortunate accident. The pilot had a malfunction in his plane and needed to dump the bomb he was carrying.”

  “Are you saying we died?” questioned Alicia.

  “I can’t say any more facts. It has to be your choice. Whatever you decide there will be no turning back.”

  The professor looked at his wife. Tears were forming in her eyes. He wiped them away using his fingers. “We have to go,” he whispered.

  TW Morgan glanced at his watch. “I don’t want to be a bearer of bad news, we have two minutes left.”

  Jake grabbed his sister by the hand, together they walked to the brightly lit doorway. “After you, Sis.” He turned, faced Alicia and took her gently by the hand. “It’s time to go.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “It sure is.”

  Jasmine took hold of Nic’s hand, reeling him in.

  The Professor reached out his hand for Victoria’s. She hesitated, swaying back and forth seemingly trying to decide on what to do. The noise of a propeller driven plane overhead helped her to make up her mind. Victoria stepped up to her husband, grabbing hold of his waist.

  “Lead on,” she croaked.

  TW Morgan flicked the lead he was holding. “Trog, let’s go home.”

  The creature ambled towards the bright light, covering the doorway.

  “I’ve had a thought,” said Jake. “Maybe now I’m famous I’ll be able to invite everyone to Alpha Centauri for a fun filled holiday?”

  Both the Troglian and TW Morgan glanced his way. “Don’t push it, but you never know.”

  The Professor was smiling as he brought up the rear.

  The group stepped into the bright light one at a time.

  “Mrs. Victoria Bradshaw, if you will kindly face the doorway you stepped through you’ll see what would have happened if you chose to stay,” said TW Morgan.

  The group turned and faced the arch. The small plane seemed to make a bee-line directly for the Professor’s house. The moment it was overhead a bomb was dropped. In seconds, the house exploded in a massive fireball.

  “Welcome to 2245AD,” chirped Jasmine. “This ought to be fun.”

  “I certainly agree on that score,” said Jake, smiling warmly at Alicia. “Want to go to a party to end all parties?”