City of Time (15 page)

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"Should be along here somewhere," Rosie said. Owen looked around uneasily. There was something spooky about this part of the City.

"Here it is," Dr. Diamond said. It was a tall building like the others. There were weeds growing out of the stone steps up to the door and there were no lights on, but a brass plaque to one side of the door said MUSEUM and a handwritten notice on the door said OPEN.

"It's about time we got our bums off the street." Rosie walked up the stairs without waiting for them. In her black clothes she looked like a little old lady. Dr. Diamond bounded up the steps and Owen followed reluctantly as Rosie pushed the door. It opened onto a dark hallway, lit only by a minute piece of magno in a glass holder on the ceiling. Rosie looked at it longingly, but it was in a wire cage.

The hallway was full of heavy old furniture--chaise longues, tables, and bookcases crammed with large books with gilt lettering on the spines. There were mirrors on the walls and paintings of men and women in old-fashioned dress. In one, a cruel-looking lady in a blue organza dress held the skull of a small animal in the palm of her hand.

Owen stepped in front of one of the mirrors and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when he realized that he couldn't see his own reflection. Then, as he walked away, his reflection suddenly appeared.

"Fascinating," Dr. Diamond murmured. "The

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mirror would seem to distort time. You see your reflection only after you stand in front of the mirror."

"The museum's this way," Rosie said, pointing through an arch surrounded by purple velvet curtains.

"I can't wait," Dr. Diamond said.

Owen wished that Cati was with them. He could imagine her digging him in the back and smiling about the doctor's enthusiasms.

On the other side of the curtain they found themselves in a large octagonal room. Magno ceiling lights cast a dim glow. More velvet curtains covered the walls. There were glass cases everywhere and from the ceiling hung the skeleton of some great, writhing beast.

"Wonderful!" Dr. Diamond breathed.

"More your kind of place than mine, Doc, I must admit," Rosie said. "There's some really strange stuff in here."

Just then they heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Rosie's hand went to the hidden knife inside her jacket. Owen looked around for a weapon. Even the doctor took up a martial arts stance.

The curtain was flicked aside and a man came into the room. He wore a blue suit with black velvet trim on the collar, and black suede shoes. His hair was slicked back in a quiff and his fingers were covered with heavy gold rings. But the strangest thing about him was his face, which was as gaunt as the skull in the portrait.

"Visitors!" he exclaimed, and approached them, his

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hand outstretched. "Conrad G. Black, curator. Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir." He shook Dr. Diamond's hand vigorously. "And you, young sir," he said, grabbing Owen's hand. "And if the little magno hunter lets go of whatever weapon she has concealed there, I'll sure as hell shake her hand too."

Rosie looked at him suspiciously and kept her hand inside her coat. Conrad G. Black shrugged. "Entrance is free, gratis, and without charge. Please feel free to look around and ask me questions, if you will."

"I do have a question," Dr. Diamond said.

"Fire away! Shoot! Do your worst!"

"Have you ever gone under the name of Elvis Garnett?" the doctor asked.

Black hesitated. "Elvis Garnett ... why, I may have ... There were charges ... nothing ever proven ..."

"University of Leipzig," Dr. Diamond said sternly. "You were blamed for the disappearance of rare temporal matter, the Rocks of North Stynia, precious artifacts capable of straddling two time zones at the same time."

"I don't know, I can't remember ...," Black said, moving sideways so that his body obscured a glass case containing two large rocks.

"Then the Dagger of Nemeth disappeared from the dean's study."

"That dagger was a fake and a fraud! 'A blade to rend the fabric of time,' my eye!"

"So you admit to it, then?" Dr. Diamond said. His

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voice was severe, but Owen thought he could see a twinkle in his eye.

Black stared at him. "Son of a gun!" he said. "Son of a gun if it isn't Damian Diamond. The glasses threw me. As I live and die, Damian Diamond!" And he flung his arms around the doctor.

The doctor's first name was
Damian?
Owen could only imagine the look on Cati's face when she heard that.

"As soon as I read about the Museum of Time, I thought to myself that Elvis had always said he would beg, steal, or borrow to get a place like that," said the doctor.

"And I did," Black said, "although business is hardly brisk."

"I can see that," Dr. Diamond said. "But surely things were better when you started out."

"Well, you know, I thought this was an up-and-coming area, bought the building cheap. But the up has yet to come. This City is in trouble."

"Why?"

"Simple enough. There used to be a constant supply of time. People bought and sold, and lived happily. Then buyers started coming in from elsewhere. Nobody knew who they were. The price of time multiplied a hundredfold. Suddenly everybody went up the river to prospect. Soon enough they couldn't find any more. And what they had found was sold and gone, nobody knows where."

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"I don't understand," Owen burst out. "All this talk about finding and selling time. I mean, time isn't a thing you can find lying about the place."

"It is in Hadima, you know," Black said. "Or was. Let me show you something." He went to a glass display case and removed an object. He put it on top of the case.

"Just an old stone, ain't it?" Rosie asked.

"Look," Black said, turning it over. The stone was hollow. The inside seemed to be made from smooth crystal. "Quantities of time would be trapped in here. Of course, this one has long since been emptied."

"Where does one find these artifacts?" Dr. Diamond said.

"Not artifacts," Black said. "Tempods."

Owen flashed a look at Dr. Diamond. His mouth opened to speak, but the doctor squeezed his arm hard and he shut his mouth again.

"How interesting," Dr. Diamond said. "And where do these tempods come from?"

"They come from space, we think. They fall like meteorites. They're found in the uplands, near the top of the Sound. Well, they used to be. The supply has run out."

"There are none left?" Dr. Diamond said smoothly.

"Alas, no. None has been found for years."

"I don't understand," Owen said. "Time is not a
thing
. How can these stones hold it?"

"Don't be a cynic, boy," Black said, and suddenly his

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face was dark. He loomed over Owen, a tall spidery figure. "Do you have a soul, boy? An immortal soul? Do you?"

"I suppose ..."

"Where is it? Can you show it to me?"

"Well, no ..."

"Is it a thing, an object?"

"I ... I don't think so."

"Exactly. And is it in a container? Does your body not contain it?"

"I suppose ..."

"And can it be released from that container?"

"I don't know."

"It can be released. I can release it thus!" Now Black was very close. He pressed a small sharp blade against Owen's throat.

"Leave him alone!" Rosie cried, her own knife drawn.

Owen looked long and hard into Black's eyes. Black slowly released him. His hand flickered, and like lightning the blade flew the length of the room, embedding itself in the timber mount of a surprised-looking stuffed bird.

"So you see," Black said, breathing fast, "time can be enclosed. Do you understand?"

Owen nodded and rubbed his throat.

Dr. Diamond was watching Black closely. He hadn't moved, but his fists were clenched. "The lesson was a little ... strong, do you not think?" he said mildly.

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"The boy was in no danger," Black said, "and he will remember the lesson."

Rosie slipped her knife back into her jacket, but she kept her distance from Black.

"Tell me something," the doctor asked. "What was that beast hanging from the ceiling?"

"A schooner." A look of almost childlike delight crossed Black's face. "Kind of a cross between a shark and an eel, except much larger. The authorities say it swam in time the way fish swim in water."

Owen looked at the skeleton. A creature that could swim in time?

Rosie said nothing, but her eyes shone. Black took her by the arm, suddenly gracious. "I see we have here someone who is really interested in the fauna of time. I would be honored to show you around my humble museum."

"I love beasts and things," Rosie murmured, her mistrust forgotten.

"Please, look at this exhibit. A flightless terfuge. Sadly extinct. Early prospectors found it had the uncanny ability to smell out tempods. This is the only preserved specimen." A brown bird the size of a man with moldy feathers and odd round nostrils stared mournfully at them with glassy black eyes.

"And look at this," Black said. "It was found inside a tempod."

The thing he pointed at appeared to be a fossilized

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worm. It was a delicate greenish color and its eyes seemed to be made from coral.

"Amazing," Dr. Diamond said. "What did it eat?"

"Perhaps time itself," Black said. "But many things have been found inside the tempods." He showed them another glass case inside which was an eerie, translucent plant with long delicate fronds, like some kind of strange fern. There was no wind in the case, yet the fronds moved as though stirred by a breeze.

"Why is it moving?" Rosie asked.

"It's time, isn't it?" Owen said. "The currents of time are flowing over it and making it move."

"Exactly right." Black smiled. Dr. Diamond beamed back at him.

They explored the whole museum. There were odd-looking devices that Black said could detect deposits of time. There was a motorized sleigh that could go on water and which had been used by prospectors looking for time. He showed them a photograph of the sleigh fully laden with tempods, being driven by a man with a long, tangled beard and wild eyes.

"The prospectors get like that," Black said. "They spend too long in the wilderness and see strange things."

There were prospector's clothes. There were strange instruments covered with dials and featherlight pendulums, and a five-faced clock that was a smaller version of Dr. Diamond's in the Skyward. And there were books.

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Hundreds and hundreds of books on the subject of time.

"What's this?" Rosie pointed at a small glass case. Inside was a paw covered in white fur with sharp little talons. It had four fingers and a thumb, almost like a human hand.

"That? Nothing, really." Black shrugged. "It's the reputed hand of a Yeati."

"What, like the abominable snowman?" Owen asked.

"Well, I've never heard it called that before, but possibly. I think it might be a hoax, a bear claw or something. The old stories say that the mountains were full of them until the prospectors hunted them down."

"Why would they do that?" Rosie cried.

"Yeatis were partial to the odd bit of time. They'd crack a tempod open with their paws, put it to their mouth, and drink the time, like drinking milk from a coconut. Don't really believe it myself, but it makes a nice exhibit."

Rosie continued to stare at the paw. It was delicate, the long fingers and slender curved nails beautiful, yet it also gave the impression of great strength.

"I'm forgetting myself," Black said. "Let's go and have a cup of something!"

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Chapter 18

Black brought them through to his private quarters, which were decorated with rich hangings and sofas with great rugs flung over them. There was a potbelly stove in the middle of the floor where Black brewed hot chocolate in a little silver saucepan, which they drank with warm biscuits. Then Black made a dark-colored plum liqueur for Dr. Diamond. The two men settled into a long conversation about their university days, full of references to long-dead professors and horseplay in the quadrangles of Leipzig. The two children were bored stiff within minutes. Owen yawned and lay back on the sofa. It was very warm in the room and the sound of voices began to lull him to sleep.

Rosie was wide awake. She was fascinated by the strange animals she had seen, particularly by the Yeati

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claw. Seeing Owen asleep and the two men deep in conversation, she slipped off the sofa and out the door.

It was much colder in the corridor and she shivered and drew her coat around her. She passed the mirror quickly. She didn't like the idea of having no reflection, but she couldn't help a sideways glance. When she reached the museum door and looked back she jumped at her delayed reflection staring solemnly from the glass.

Inside the museum she moved carefully through the exhibits. The eyes of the sad, extinct terfuge seemed to watch her. She found the case with the Yeati's hand in it. The fur was gleaming white, even though it must be very old. Rosie examined the case. There was a small brass lock at the edge of it. She hesitated, then took a hairpin from under her hat and stuck it into the keyhole. She twiddled it about for a minute, then the lock sprang open. Rosie cocked her head to listen, but all was silent.

Carefully she lifted the hand from the case. It was much lighter than she'd imagined and, even though it was long dead, it had a feeling of life about it. She ran her palm along the furry fingers and felt the nails, which were sharp and hard. She could imagine them cracking open bare rock.

Rosie stroked the fur again and felt something hard near the knuckle. She moved the fur aside with her fingers. Buried in the hair, close to the knuckle, was a delicate gold ring with a single diamond inset. Holding her