Door Handle.
"What is this place? Why am I here?
Andy is kneeling at the base of the metal cylinder, its hatch still open. He is fiddling with the components of the Door Handle. Sandeep is perched on one of the wheeled chairs, peering at a luminous panel. Lizzie sits at another workbench, her face illuminated by the ghostly light of her own panel. She looks up at you, and looks to Sandeep to take the lead.
"Sit down, Alf." Sandeep indicates a vacant wheeled chair.
What a strange contraption. Five wheels - all pointing in different directions. What skill of balance is needed to descend onto it without it scooting out from underneath? Slowly you ease your weight onto it, and mercifully, the chair doesn't move.
Lizzie hides a smile. "How are you finding our operations centre so far?"
A question for which there are too many answers, most that cannot be put into words. "Is this... is this Magic?" The question seems foolish the moment you utter it. Magic is the stuff of fairytale and legend.
"That depends on what you define as Magic." Andy rises to his feet and joins the others. "Or, whether you believe in Magic. Personally, I do not."
"Then how did I get here?"
"Simple." Andy leans on the workbench. "The Door Handle transported you forwards in time." This makes no sense at all. He turns to Lizzy. "See, I said he wouldn't understand."
"I'm not surprised. I doubt Alf has ever come across the concept of time travel." she looks at you, her dark eyes glistening. "Look, Alf. Imagine that there is a celebration. An annual feast. Like Christmas. Imagine you cannot bear to wait all those months. This Door Handle lets you jump from today, straight to Christmas Day, missing out all the days and months in between. Travelling to the future."
Sandeep rests his elbow on the back of his chair. "Now imagine jumping a greater distance into the future. Not just a few months. Not a year, not a hundred years, but three hundred years."
"Two hundred and seventy-four years, according to this." Andy raises the Door Handle to his face and peers at it closely. "You came from the year 1762, if I am not mistaken?"
He is right! 1762.
"Then welcome to the year 2036 - the time and place where we live." Andy stops, and frowns. "It appears you did not come the direct route. The last journey was - from 1294."
"1294? But that is hundreds of years before I was born. I... I..." There are no words to describe this confusion. Travelling forward to the future, where everything works by magic. Travelling backwards to the past, where you were unceremoniously hauled onto a wagon and dumped by the edge of a forest, left for the man in the silvery robe to find.
"I saw myself... I saw myself emerging from that... that metal thing... and talking to a man. There was a scroll - but I don't know what it said. I could not see any more, for all at once I arrived here."
Lizzie nods. "When travelling inside the pod it is common to see other branches of time. What you saw was your destiny if you had stepped out of the pod. But instead, you stayed inside and chose to come here."
"I am sorry to say I had no control over this pod. It chose to come here, not I. And... and where is here, anyway?"
Sandeep beckons to a window, which is covered by a stiff grey cloth. He tugs at the cloth and it rolls upwards revealing dark skies and towering buildings illuminated by lights of different shapes and colour. Opposite is a building that looks vaguely familiar. The overhanging walls of its upper storey look warped with age and its and its timbers are covered with gaudy black and white paint. Once an imposing structure commanding the corner of the road it is now squashed and dwarfed by its neighbours. The sign outside is different from the one you remember, but it clearly depicts a man hammering a glowing bar at an anvil.
It is the pub where you first saw Lizzy, where the cylinder had first appeared, the pub where Ned had persuaded you to go in and look for the distressed landlady. It is the Blacksmith's Arms. But how? Hadn't it been almost destroyed back in 1762?
The surrounding buildings however, are unrecognisable. Poles stuck at the roadside flash lights of red, orange and green; the only movement is the occasional figure flitting between the shadows.
Then he appears. His hair brilliant white, he strides down the empty street, his glittering robe billowing, the silver serpents glinting in the changing colour of the lights. The man with the scroll! But had you not left him in 1294?
Sandeep rests his head against the glass and gives a heavy sigh. "He's back again." Taking a step back, he removes his glasses.
"Alf. We are in the middle of a war. A war between man and..." he glances at Andy for a moment - " ...between man and the creatures of magic. Fey, or Fairies, if you will. They attack us because they want that." He nods at the Door Handle that Andy still holds.
Andy is kneeling at the base of the metal cylinder, its hatch still open. He is fiddling with the components of the Door Handle. Sandeep is perched on one of the wheeled chairs, peering at a luminous panel. Lizzie sits at another workbench, her face illuminated by the ghostly light of her own panel. She looks up at you, and looks to Sandeep to take the lead.
"Sit down, Alf." Sandeep indicates a vacant wheeled chair.
What a strange contraption. Five wheels - all pointing in different directions. What skill of balance is needed to descend onto it without it scooting out from underneath? Slowly you ease your weight onto it, and mercifully, the chair doesn't move.
Lizzie hides a smile. "How are you finding our operations centre so far?"
A question for which there are too many answers, most that cannot be put into words. "Is this... is this Magic?" The question seems foolish the moment you utter it. Magic is the stuff of fairytale and legend.
"That depends on what you define as Magic." Andy rises to his feet and joins the others. "Or, whether you believe in Magic. Personally, I do not."
"Then how did I get here?"
"Simple." Andy leans on the workbench. "The Door Handle transported you forwards in time." This makes no sense at all. He turns to Lizzy. "See, I said he wouldn't understand."
"I'm not surprised. I doubt Alf has ever come across the concept of time travel." she looks at you, her dark eyes glistening. "Look, Alf. Imagine that there is a celebration. An annual feast. Like Christmas. Imagine you cannot bear to wait all those months. This Door Handle lets you jump from today, straight to Christmas Day, missing out all the days and months in between. Travelling to the future."
Sandeep rests his elbow on the back of his chair. "Now imagine jumping a greater distance into the future. Not just a few months. Not a year, not a hundred years, but three hundred years."
"Two hundred and seventy-four years, according to this." Andy raises the Door Handle to his face and peers at it closely. "You came from the year 1762, if I am not mistaken?"
He is right! 1762.
"Then welcome to the year 2036 - the time and place where we live." Andy stops, and frowns. "It appears you did not come the direct route. The last journey was - from 1294."
"1294? But that is hundreds of years before I was born. I... I..." There are no words to describe this confusion. Travelling forward to the future, where everything works by magic. Travelling backwards to the past, where you were unceremoniously hauled onto a wagon and dumped by the edge of a forest, left for the man in the silvery robe to find.
"I saw myself... I saw myself emerging from that... that metal thing... and talking to a man. There was a scroll - but I don't know what it said. I could not see any more, for all at once I arrived here."
Lizzie nods. "When travelling inside the pod it is common to see other branches of time. What you saw was your destiny if you had stepped out of the pod. But instead, you stayed inside and chose to come here."
"I am sorry to say I had no control over this pod. It chose to come here, not I. And... and where is here, anyway?"
Sandeep beckons to a window, which is covered by a stiff grey cloth. He tugs at the cloth and it rolls upwards revealing dark skies and towering buildings illuminated by lights of different shapes and colour. Opposite is a building that looks vaguely familiar. The overhanging walls of its upper storey look warped with age and its and its timbers are covered with gaudy black and white paint. Once an imposing structure commanding the corner of the road it is now squashed and dwarfed by its neighbours. The sign outside is different from the one you remember, but it clearly depicts a man hammering a glowing bar at an anvil.
It is the pub where you first saw Lizzy, where the cylinder had first appeared, the pub where Ned had persuaded you to go in and look for the distressed landlady. It is the Blacksmith's Arms. But how? Hadn't it been almost destroyed back in 1762?
The surrounding buildings however, are unrecognisable. Poles stuck at the roadside flash lights of red, orange and green; the only movement is the occasional figure flitting between the shadows.
Then he appears. His hair brilliant white, he strides down the empty street, his glittering robe billowing, the silver serpents glinting in the changing colour of the lights. The man with the scroll! But had you not left him in 1294?
Sandeep rests his head against the glass and gives a heavy sigh. "He's back again." Taking a step back, he removes his glasses.
"Alf. We are in the middle of a war. A war between man and..." he glances at Andy for a moment - " ...between man and the creatures of magic. Fey, or Fairies, if you will. They attack us because they want that." He nods at the Door Handle that Andy still holds.