FÉLIX J. PALMA - THE MAP OF TIME (ARC) by FÉLIX J. PALMA

Author:FÉLIX J. PALMA [PALMA, FÉLIX J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: COBRA
Published: 2011-06-28T18:11:22+00:00

23

When the girl and the guide vanished along the steep path, Captain Derek

Shackleton left his hiding place and paused for a few moments looking

at where the woman had been standing, as though expecting

to discover a trace of her perfume or her voice lingering in the

empty space, some sign of her presence that would prove she

had not been a figment of his imagination. He was still reeling

from the meeting. He could scarcely believe it had really happened. He remembered the girl’s name: “I’m Claire Haggerty

and I’ve come from the nineteenth century to help you rebuild

the world,” she had said, with a charming curtsy. But her name

was not the only thing he remembered. He was surprised at how

clearly the image of her face was etched in his mind. He could

conjure clear as day her pale visage, her slightly wild-looking

features, her smooth, shapely mouth, her jet-black hair, her

graceful bearing, her voice. And he remembered the look in her

eyes. Above all, he remembered the way she had gazed at him,

enraptured, almost in awe, with mesmerized joy. No woman had

ever looked at him like that before.

Then he noticed the parasol, and he flushed with shame once

more as he remembered the reason for the girl dropping it. He

went over and carefully picked it up off the ground, as though it

were an iron bird fallen from some metallic nest. It was a dainty,

elegant parasol that betrayed the moneyed status of its owner.

What was he supposed to do with it? One thing was clear; he

could not leave it there.

Parasol in hand, he set off to where the others were waiting

for him, taking the opportunity to collect himself as he walked.

To avoid arousing their suspicions, he must hide his agitation

at the encounter with the girl. Just then, Solomon leapt from

behind a rock, brandishing his sword. Although he had been

daydreaming, the brave Captain Shackleton reacted in a flash,

striking the automaton with the parasol as it leapt on him, bay-ing for his blood in his booming metallic voice. The blow glanced

off Solomon, but it took him by surprise, and he teetered for a

few seconds before toppling backwards down a small incline.

Clutching the by now rather dented parasol, Shackleton watched

his enemy rattling down the hill. The clattering sound came to

an abrupt halt as the automaton hit a pile of rocks. For a few moments, Solomon lay stretched out on his back covered in a thick

layer of dust thrown up by his fall. Then he tried laboriously to

pick himself up, cursing and hurling insults, which the metallic

timbre of his voice made sound even more vulgar. Loud guffaws

rang out from the group of soldiers and automatons who were

looking on.

“Stop laughing, you swine, I could have broken something!”

groaned Solomon, amid further guffaws.

“It serves you right for playing pranks,” Shackleton chided

him, walking down the incline and offering Solomon a helping

hand. “Won’t you ever tire of your silly ambushes?”

“You were taking too long, my friend,” the automaton complained, allowing Shackleton and two others to pull him to his

feet. “What the hell were you doing up there anyway?”

“I was urinating,” the captain replied.

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