The History Keepers Circus Maximus (10 page)

‘What’s happening now?’ Jake whispered to Rose, who was standing next to him.

‘Well, it’s all very technical, darling,’ she told him, ‘but somehow it tests our valour; our ability to travel to history.’

Dr Chatterju was on hand to clarify more scientifically. ‘The purple liquid is replica atomium,’ he explained (Jake loved the way he made every word sound interesting). ‘An exact quantity has been mixed to take the subject to a precise destination – in this case, far,
far
back into deep time. The machine simulates the effects of a horizon point. The subject then simply observes the scene and describes his experience afterwards. It is from the clarity of this description that
valour
is then graded.’

‘The clarity?’ Jake repeated, not fully understanding.

‘Some people see it as clear as crystal; some don’t see anything at all.’

‘And some people disappear altogether.’ Rose hooted with laughter. ‘Do you remember when Oceane Noire’s aunt was given
real
atomium by mistake and ended up in the year 606, when the Mont St Michel was occupied by marauding Franks?’

‘I was doing Amrit’s job then,’ Chatterju commented with a mischievous twinkle, ‘so I wasn’t entirely to blame. But I will
never
forget her face when we finally managed to track her down.’

After a few moments the rings slowed and then stopped. Amrit unstrapped Belverre and helped him down. The musketeer looked as if he was half drunk – bleary-eyed and unsteady on his feet. Chatterju took him to one side and sat him down, then started asking him a series of questions, while carefully noting down his answers.

Amrit was just about to help Miriam Djones into the seat when the door flew open and Oceane Noire stormed in. She nearly knocked Jake for six with her wide skirts as she swept over to Galliana, ‘
Je viens de recevoir des nouvelles tragiques
– I’ve just heard the tragic news.’ She sighed dramatically, clutching her
neck. ‘My poor, poor Jupitus – I must go to him
tout de suite
!’ She didn’t wait for permission; simply pushed past Miriam and jumped up into the seat. She had to squeeze her huge panniers flat against her hips to fit in.

Galliana shook her head, unimpressed, but nodded at Amrit to continue.

As the rings on the machine started turning once again, Rose whispered mischievously to Jake, ‘With any luck, she’ll disappear like her aunt.’

After Oceane and Miriam had been tested (needless to say, Miriam got the giggles the moment she was strapped in and had to do some deep breathing exercises to calm down), the others took their turn. After each interview, Chatterju passed the scores to Galliana, who looked at them with increasing concern.

It was past midday by the time they had finished. Galliana talked to Chatterju in a low voice, then solemnly announced, ‘I am sorry to say that only one person has succeeded in the test. Miriam, you were very close, but not quite strong enough for this distance – which leaves only Rose. As she is also trained in ship navigation for that era, I will certainly be sending her to the Tyrrhenian Sea.’

‘
C’est ridicule!
’ cried Oceane. ‘There must be some mistake – my vision was as clear as crystal.’

Galliana was tired and worried – otherwise she might not have answered so curtly. ‘Mademoiselle, your score was quite the worst of the lot.’

‘Out of interest, how did I do?’ Alan asked with a nervous smile.

Reluctantly the commander answered, ‘Perhaps you were worn down by your time in the sixteenth century – but your reading was low.’

His smile froze. Jake hadn’t often seen his father look humiliated and it hurt more deeply than if the shame had fallen on himself. Miriam squeezed her husband’s hands.

Galliana carried on, ‘As you all know, we never allow agents to travel alone, however routine the journey, so we will need to spread our net wider. I will contact a number of overseas agents. Hopefully we can find someone in the next twenty-four hours.’

Jake could hold back no longer. ‘Commander, could I say something?’ He didn’t wait for an answer, but pushed through the crowd, deliberately avoiding eye contact with his parents. ‘Given that the mission is – in your own words – a routine
delivery, and that our agents are obviously in urgent need of atomium, would you at least consider testing me for the assignment? It would save a lot of time.’

Alan Djones sometimes said things without really thinking, as if his voice were independent of his mind. This was one of those occasions. ‘Go on, Commander – give him another chance,’ he blurted out.

‘Alan!’ Miriam clapped him on the shoulder. ‘We discussed this, remember?’

‘Mum, please just let me try.’ Jake turned to her, beseeching. ‘I understand that you’re frightened and I know I have a lot to learn –
everything
to learn – to be a real History Keeper. But I’ve never been particularly good at anything else—’

‘Not good at anything else?’ she interrupted. ‘What about science and art and basketball? And your geography thesis was the best in the class.’

‘And even you couldn’t read it, it was so boring. Mum, working for the History Keepers, being part of this amazing organization – it’s something I think I can do . . . I want to do it . . .’ He made his voice deeper and squared his shoulders. ‘I
will
do it, one way or another.’

There was silence, then Miriam heaved a deep sigh. ‘I’m just your mother – what do I matter?’

Jake knew this was the closest he was going to get to her consent. He kissed her on the cheek and turned hopefully to Galliana.

She scrutinized him, then nodded. ‘No promises. We’ll test you, that is all. Dr Chatterju, one last measure, please.’

‘Thank you, Commander, thank you!’ Jake exclaimed excitedly, stepping forward to take his dose.

As Chatterju passed him the small vial of steaming purple liquid, he whispered roguishly in Jake’s ear, ‘Actually I had a dose standing by – just in case.’

Jake smiled conspiratorially and drank it down quickly. He had braced himself, assuming that it would taste as repulsive as genuine atomium, but actually it had a sweet citrus flavour.

Without waiting for assistance from Amrit, he leaped up into the cushioned seat. His legs and arms were duly fastened and the glasses positioned in front of his eyes. These were mirrored on the inside, and Jake could dimly make out his own honey-brown pupils staring back at him. Then he heard
the soft whirr of the three spinning rings as they began to accelerate. Suddenly he felt a cool breeze in his face. He was overcome with a drowsy numbness and his eyes grew heavier and heavier. Just as it seemed as if he would fall into a deep sleep, brightness suddenly filled his vision and he jolted upright. He found himself in an extraordinary place . . .

7 A N
EW
B
EGINNING

HE WAS MOVING
under a canopy of palm trees towards brilliant sunlight. Soft sand muffled his footsteps. The air was no longer cool but scorchingly hot – or certainly it felt hot; Jake wasn’t sure if it was just an illusion. He came to the edge of the palms, stopped and surveyed the scene.

Ahead of him lay a palace compound – a low, sprawling group of buildings connected by shady colonnades. It was surrounded by clusters of tall palm trees, and its vibrant red walls stood out against the intense turquoise sky. Beyond it and on either side there was desert – an endless succession of softly undulating dunes shimmering far into the distance.

Suddenly there was a squawking sound that made Jake start. A bird took off from the palms behind him and soared over his head and out over
the desert. It was a beautiful creature, glistening like a jewel in the sunlight, wings of emerald green stretched wide. As it glided into the distance, Jake saw a series of shapes on the horizon. They were hard to distinguish at first, as the air danced in the heat; but as he looked closer he made out three triangles, similarly proportioned, one smaller than the other two.

‘The pyramids . . .?’ Jake murmured in wonder. ‘The pyramids of Egypt . . .’ As he gazed at the ancient structures, serene and alone in the vast landscape, utterly untouched by the modern world, he felt a sudden surge of emotion. His heart swelled and a tear came to his eye. ‘History is amazing . . .’ he whispered solemnly. ‘Just amazing!’

The sun was burning into him like a blowtorch. His throat was parched and he needed water, so he started to make his way across the sand towards the palace – a fourteen-year-old boy in his school uniform, with just his shadow for company in this vast landscape.

He approached the striking entrance – triple-height wooden doors riveted with silver straps. These were flanked on either side by a towering statue: two giant golden figures with human bodies
and animal heads. Each held its forearm imperiously across its chest, clutching a sceptre in its hand. Jake squinted up at their heads, with their long snouts and pointed ears; he was completely dwarfed by them – his head only came up to their knees.

He pushed open the doors, stepped into the echoey coolness of the interior and followed a wide marble passageway into a large atrium. He had visited ancient buildings before (just last year, on a dismally wet Tuesday, his class had gone to look at some dusty Roman mosaics), but he always found it hard to imagine what they would have
actually
looked like when they were first built: ruins, by definition, are worn and drab. The first thing that Jake noticed here was that it was full of colour.

On all sides were rows of stone columns, painted every colour of the rainbow: carmine, indigo, cerulean blue, dark lavender, lapis green and cadmium red. Beyond the columns, the walls were covered in intricate hieroglyphics, a million vivid symbols: birds, beetles, moons and countless other images. Cats dozed in the shadows. One got up, arched its back, stretched its legs, then curled up to sleep some more.

In the centre of the room, open to the sky, there
was a square pond, around which incense burners gave off a scent of jasmine. Jake went to examine it, kneeling down and sinking his hands into the water. His throat was now as dry as paper and he wanted to scoop some up to drink; but the water, like everything else, was just a vivid illusion.

The only piece of furniture was a spindly-legged table bearing a number of parchment scrolls. Jake went over to examine one that had been unfurled and weighed down at the corners with stones. It was a map – certainly the oldest he had ever seen – showing the twisting Nile and the little towns that lay along it. He was just bending down to study it more closely when he heard the sound of quick footsteps coming along one of the passageways.

Jake turned round as a number of guards filed into the chamber. They were dark-skinned, lithe and strong, and carried swords with distinctive curved blades; they wore leather breastplates, thick sandals and bronze helmets. Jake edged back behind a pillar as they started to check around, but it seemed that he was invisible to them. In fact, one walked straight through him. Their search complete, the guards stood to attention as soft pattering footsteps approached: five young ladies appeared,
in pleated white dresses, with belts and neckpieces as colourful and elaborate as the painted columns.

The last figure to enter clearly commanded respect – everyone bowed as she came in. She was shorter and slighter than the rest, but she seemed to fill the space with an aura of power. In her bare feet she stepped over to the table and looked at the map, then, without turning round, addressed her retinue. To Jake’s ears her voice sounded as foreign and musical as birdsong.

He stepped forward to examine her more closely. He knew he was invisible – he knew he was actually sitting inside a piece of apparatus in a room in Normandy – but he was frightened of this tiny woman who radiated such authority. She wore a headdress fashioned in the shape of a bird, just like the emerald-winged one he had seen before entering the palace. Her skin was as pale as marble, her lips as red as strawberries, her eyes as dark and dazzling as jet.

As Jake gazed into them, he felt a cool rush of air. All at once he was aware of golden rings rotating around him, and the woman’s eyes started to fade – until all that remained were two shining black pupils; then, with a pop, those also disappeared.

Jake found himself once more in the testing room, with his parents and all the other agents peering at him.

‘All right, darling?’ Miriam asked hesitantly. ‘You were certainly shaking around a lot.’

Jake nodded blearily, stunned by the sudden transition from a bright palace in Egypt to this dimly lit chamber with its dark tapestries. Amrit untied the straps and helped Jake down. Then Dr Chatterju stepped forward with his notepad, smiling warmly. He looked down through his round spectacles and started asking all sorts of questions about the journey Jake had just taken.

Jake needed no coaxing; he described everything in detail, from the palm trees to the palace, the bird, the pyramids (‘You actually
saw
them?’ Alan exclaimed out loud. ‘No one ever
sees
them!’), the courtyard, the pond, the map and the women. With each additional piece of information, the group around him grew more and more astonished, some shaking their heads in disbelief.

‘
C’est impossible!
’ Oceane snorted when Jake gave the exact colour and form of the imperious lady’s headdress.

After a while Chatterju, who had been scribbling
furiously, trying to keep up with Jake, shook his head and put down his notepad. When the boy finished, the other agents were all looking at him in amazement.

‘So?’ he asked them. ‘Did I pass?’

Galliana took a deep breath and looked at Miriam with a questioning eye. It was Alan, however, who spoke first. ‘Did you pass?!’ He stepped forward and threw an arm round his son. ‘Did you ever! I’ve never heard the like! Not even Nathan Wylder can see so much detail in a test that far back.’

Jake rewarded himself with the glimmer of a smile as his dad pinched his cheek proudly. ‘He’s an adventurer, Miriam,’ he said with a tear in his eye. ‘Our boy’s an adventurer – nothing we can do about it!’