Spot 2: Sara_R_Stark 

    "Where you going?" someone's voice called behind him. John opted to ignore the person until a hand roughly grasped his shoulder and forced him to spin around.

"Come on, Johnny," Charles, a gangster from the 1920's, whispered, looking concerned. "It's two in the morning!" John almost felt bad for leaving his closest friend behind, but he knew he had to go.

"Sorry, Charlie," John grinned, nervously adjusting his backpack. "I gotta go. My ma needs me."

"You aren't thinking of going back, are you?" Charles gasped, eyes wide. "They'll skin ya!"

"Yeah, I know." John shrugged nonchalantly. "Whatever. Anything's better than this dump, ain't it, Charlie?"

"You got that right," Charles chuckled. It was clear some of Charles' phrases were rubbing off on John, and he almost found it funny to watch the little war hero speaking like one of his lads back home.

"I'll be back, though. Don't you worry about me."

"You know I never do. Take care, yeah?"

"Sure," John responded, patting Charles firmly on the shoulder. "Don't get in too much trouble while I'm gone."

"Whatever you say, boss."

John grinned and turned away, exiting the room quietly. The halls were oddly silent this time of night, but he found it comforting. His times with Charles were always full of fun and adventure. It seemed both boys had made it their personal goal to make their time in the museum as difficult for the staff as possible, and considering how they were both heavily guarded throughout the day, it was clear their tactics were working.

That's what made it so difficult for John to escape. The halls around his room in the basement were lined with soldiers. Normally this would be a problem, but Charlie helped him unscrew one of the covers to the vent right outside their room, making it perfectly easy to crawl through the vents to the machine.

John approached this empty space and threw his bag inside, swinging himself in right after. It took him record time to navigate the tight space, and within moments, he was hanging directly above the room where the machine was kept. Grinning, he silently unscrewed the vent to his left and set it behind him before throwing his bag through the drop and onto the floor. Then, without a sound, he followed.

It was almost concerning how easy it was for him to load his belongings into the machine and send himself back. As the door slid shut and the machine began its journey, it seemed like he would have no troubles whatsoever. This gave him hope, and he lightly ran his fingers over the small golden necklace in his pocket. After all these years, he would finally be able to return this gift to his mother. Then, only then, he would be able to return to the museum without a care in the world.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"He did what?"

"Sent himself back," Eleanor responded, crossing her arms. "I heard a rustling in the hallway and saw him climb into the vents by his room. Only John would attempt something as foolish as that, I'm certain."

"You know it wasn't Charles?" the agent asked. "You're positive he had no part in this?"

"I didn't see Charlie at all, but you know those two. I wouldn't doubt he had some part in this."

"That's unfortunate," the agent sighed. "I know your group is still in mourning, but we must send you back to catch John. His actions could have serious consequences on our reality."

"You can't send us back," Eleanor gasped. "Have you seen Heiron? The poor boy hasn't even left his room since then. They might as well have been brothers and you're throwing him out into the action less than a week after the event?"

"No other group has shown the same results as yours," the agent defended. "No others have come back with perfect results every time. You have clearly been doing something right."

"No," Eleanor shut him up quickly. "Peter was doing something right. We will go on your mission, yes, but don't expect any kind of stunning results. Good day, agent." With that, she spun on her heel and was gone.

. . . . . . . . . .

No words were spoken as the group was herded into their time machine that morning. Everyone kept quiet, thinking their own thoughts as the machine bumped and whirred. Heiron's heart was heavy as he scanned the group. Normally he would see Peter's bright yellow mop of hair near the doors as he carefully checked up on the device's datapads, but he quickly remembered that his best friend was gone. No longer would the group have Peter's fearless leadership to guide them. That thought stung more than the reality of Peter's death. Their missions were likely to fail without him here. He was the glue holding their pitiful band together, and it was clear that everyone knew that fact as well.

After a brief period, the doors slid back open and everyone quietly filed out. They were clearly lost. Peter would be the one to direct them in the directions they needed to go in. He would open up his file folder on the time period and show them notable places to investigate. He would know what to do, but he wasn't here.

"This is a horrible time to be on a mission," Eleanor sighed, stepping ahead of the group. "I get that. Let's get through this as quickly as possible so that we may return to the museum and mourn. For now, shall I read to you the information of this time period?" There were quiet murmurs of consent, so she opened her folder and began to read.

This gathering was nothing like their previous ones, Heiron noted. In the beginning, when Peter would pull out his folder, everyone would be hyped up for another adventure. Peter wouldn't read to them the information in a monotone voice like Eleanor did. He would have memorised it within the machine so that his speeches were easy to listen to. Eleanor clearly didn't know what she was doing, but her efforts were enough. Once she finished the first section of articles, everyone shuffled about nervously, not knowing what exactly they had to do.

"This should not be too difficult, yes?" Ammon piped up. "He lives in the town down the hill. We can find him and leave. It will be quick."

"I don't think so," Eleanor said gravely. "It says here on the next page that he sent himself back to 1777. There was a battle near his hometown around then... I do not know if we are safe here."

"Then let's be quick about it," Seth said. "If we hurry we might-"

That's when the sound of gunfire cut him off. It was clear they were already too late. All at once, Eleanor screamed for the group to follow her down the hill. They would take refuge in one of the houses at the bottom to wait out the fighting.

"We cannot just stay down there!" Cassius screamed. "We will be killed!"

"We can fight if needed!" Eleanor shouted back. "But we will not leave John here. Our mission was to bring him back, so we will find him and bring him back!"

"Eleanor, this isn't the way we need to do this!" Seth called. "Waiting and taking refuge until the battle is over isn't our style! We need to get him now before John is seriously hurt in this battle!"

Eleanor didn't seem to listen, and she charged down the hill before anyone could stop her. The gunfire only became louder after that, but the group remained frozen on the hill. Once she was halfway down, Eleanor stopped and turned around, frowning when she noticed that no one followed her.

"Come on, guys!" she shouted. "That's the house right there! What are you waiting for? I know this isn't what you're used to, but you're going to have to-"

She never got to finish her sentence.

Another gunshot, much closer than all the others, rang through the air. Heiron covered his ears at the piercing sound, though his eyes never left the body of Eleanor as she tumbled down the hill, a bloody trail in her wake. Anne was the first one to scream and retreat to the machine, and another gunshot whizzing dangerously close to Cas's face spurred the rest of the group into action. A second person went down as the third gunshot fired. Heiron didn't know him personally, but his name was Jarl and he was probably one of the most level-headed people he knew outside of his immediate group.

They all scattered like birds, going off in different directions. Half of the group returned to the machine while another portion raced towards the house. Two of them ran towards distant trees while two others ran towards an empty field. Heiron followed Dion as he ran to the forest, and he heard feet rapidly charging behind him. Turning around, Seth was close on his heels, somehow keeping pace with Heiron's long strides. They all hid within the underbrush, hearts racing as the sound of marching feet passed by the trees.

"What do we do now?" Dion panted, watching as soldiers paraded by. "Eleanor had the folder and now we don't know what to do!"

"I don't know," Seth murmured, "but I think something's seriously wrong. I don't feel too good."

Heiron turned to Seth, watching as the kid's skin began turning pale. Seth held his stomach as he began to shake, looking weak. Heiron helped ease him to the ground, but by then, Seth was whimpering in pain.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't know what's wrong. It happened so fast."

"It's ok," Dion responded, placing the back of his hand on Seth's forehead. "You're feeling ice cold. Are you sure you weren't-"

That's when he went silent, and the weight of Seth's head in Heiron's arms faded. On the ground where Seth had been lying was nothing more than an indentation in the grass. Dion fell back, looking shocked, though Heiron couldn't seem to move.

"What happened?" Dion whisper shrieked. "Where did he go?"

"The agents warned us about this on our first trip," Heiron cried. "If the past is altered in a significant way, it is possible that there will be repercussions in the future unless it is fixed. This is the universe's way of balancing things out."

"You think John did this? Did he change something?"

"I do not know. We must find him before more things start being altered, but I fear we are almost out of time."

"But we need that folder to do it. I do not remember his address," Dion said urgently.

"But the army is down there. There is no safe way to go about this."

"We must try. Like you said, if the past is changed too much, the future can be altered as well. I say we simply run out into the field and try to snatch the folder before it is too late."

"It will be dangerous," Heiron warned.

"Yeah, I get that. It is our only chance."

Heiron stood up and looked back down at the waving grass. The indentation of Seth's body had already faded. It was as if he was gone without a trace. Already feeling guilty, Heiron helped haul Dion up onto his feet.

"Come on," he said. "We must hurry if we are to bring back Seth."

Dion grinned, and the two charged out of the trees and back into the field.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"I'm sorry, mama," John said sadly. "I can't tell you nothing."

"Please, John," Mrs. Marshall pleaded. "You've been gone for weeks! At least tell me where you've been at."

"I can't, ma. It's for your safety and mine." He hung his head low and twiddled his thumbs.

"Well," she sucked in a deep breath, "at least you're home, dear."

That's when the sound of gunfire began outside the walls of their house. Mrs. Marshall screamed and ducked below a table, shaking and sobbing quietly. John stood silently, taken aback.

"I read about this," he murmured. "This must be the Battle of Brandywine. I need to get out of here."

"No!" his mom screamed. "Don't leave me! Please, John, it's dangerous! You'll get yourself killed!"

"Mama, hide in the cellar," John commanded. "Quickly!"

His mom rushed to the small cellar door hidden beneath their rug by the fire, and John shooed her below the ground. Footsteps rapidly ran past their door, but their house was avoided. He quickly raced towards the windows and threw the curtains closed, watching the shadows dance across the red fabric.

"Hurry, John!" Mrs. Marshall called. "Get down here with me!"

"There's no room, mama." John smiled sadly, shaking his head. "I will go out and seek a safer spot. You say here and stay quiet, yes?"

"What about Lucille? Will she be safe?"

"You said she was with Mrs. Mayweather," John said calmly. "She and Adelaine will hide in their attic. Don't you worry a bit, mama."

"Oh, my son," she sobbed. "I cannot bear for you to leave me again. I was terrified the last time you went missing."

"I'm sorry, mama," John mumbled, "but I gotta go back. I've got people that need me."

He sank to his knees by the cellar and pressed a kiss to his mother's shaking head before pressing a small object in her palm. Her eyes widened at the beautiful gift, and a single tear spilled down her wrinkled cheek.

"John?" she whispered, looking devastated.

"I've wanted you to have that for a while, mama," John responded lovingly. "I've kept in my pocket all these days for you. Keep it close to you, yeah? Once I go, I will never return home. Tell Lucille I love her, ok? I haven't gotten to see my little sister in so long, but I need her to know I still think about her every day. You're listening, ma?"

"Of course. I don't know how we will get by without you here."

"You will manage," John assured her. "I love you, ma. Never forget it. And I love Lucille and I love the Mayweathers. Tell them that, yeah?"

"Of course." Mrs. Marshall was sobbing at this point, but John quietly shushed her.

"Don't you worry about me," John chuckled, patting her head. "I'm in good hands. Stay safe, ma. I love you."

With that, he fled the house out the back door and raced up the hill leading to the forest, not noticing the glimmering silver time machine until it was too late.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Heiron's first instinct was to tackle John to the ground, but he knew instantly that it was a bad idea.

John screamed in pain as he landed heavily on the ground, his entire body being squashed to the earth by Heiron's large frame. Heiron quickly got off of John, wincing at the pitiful sounds John was making.

"I don't think that was necessary," John wheezed, clutching his stomach.

"I apologize," Heiron mumbled, helping John to his feet. "I do not know what came over me."

"It's cool. So am I in huge trouble now?"

"Very," Dion fumed, looking read in the face. "We can't talk here, though. There's clearly a battle going on down there. Now, if you would kindly step inside the machine, maybe we can meet with the agents and find a way to bring Seth back."

"Seth?" John asked. "Who's Seth."

"Seth is a kid who you made disappear with your time meddling. The universe wanted retribution for how negligent you were with the machine, I suppose, and Seth paid the price." John was momentarily stunned.

"I'm sorry. I- I didn't..."

"I don't want your excuses," Dion growled. "Get in the machine before I do something I will regret."

John held his hands up in surrender and allowed himself to be stuffed inside the machine alongside the rest of the group. They seemed to have regrouped after the initial gunshots, and after a brief headcount, Heiron found everyone to be here. They were forced to leave the bodies of Eleanor and Jarl on the grassy plain as there was no room in the machine for two corpses. Heiron sadly gestured for Anne to start the machine back up, and as before, it jolted its way back through time. John smiled sadly as he placed his hand in his pocket. Its emptiness unnerved him, but the thought of his mother finally having her gift was all he needed to lift his spirits.

They arrived back at the museum with no mishaps. Two of the agents forced John back down into his room in the basement, slamming and locking the door shut behind him. He smiled to himself as he rested his back against the door, remembering the purely loving look his mother gave him when she saw him in their doorway. He would cherish that look forever.

"The big man returns," someone hooted from the bed across the room.

"He does indeed," John said, grinning as he flopped down onto his bed. "Things weren't too lonely without me, were they?"

"Not at all," Charles chuckled. "I'm just glad you made it back alive, bud."

"Me too," John murmured. "Me too."

. . . . . . . . . . .

Three days later, Seth showed up.

They found him in the basement tucked into a corner, shivering from head to toe. Dion was the one to lead him upstairs and into the infirmary, and he gave John a specifically dirty look as he passed. As it turned out, things were gradually beginning to return to normal. Even with the passing of his closest companion, Heiron was doing much better than before. He had found friendship with Seth and Dion and was enjoying his time more than he ever had. For the first time in a long time, things were looking to turn out ok. 

Spot 3: ariel_paiement1

Lucia cleaned the oil from her hands, glancing up at the clock on the wall. The remaining time machine was back in pristine condition, which was good since she was now alone and able to follow through with her plan. Her heart thumped wildly against her ribcage as she stared at the machine hub, and her thoughts turned to Aetius. She wished there was a way to leave him a message without risking his safety, she thought. But that wasn't possible. She had nothing to say that could keep him here.

Stepping up to the machine's hub, she flicked on the manual controls for the machine and stared down at the screen for a few moments. With a deep breath, she turned away from the hub and walked down the steps to where the machine waited for her. She had to do this, she thought. She owed it to him and to her countrymen to do what she could to save them from making the mistakes they would.

Manfred and the others would get over it, she decided. After all, she'd send the machine back, and they'd be none the wiser if she didn't return. And she didn't intend to return. She wanted to go home. The main reason to go home was in an effort to save the war from its ultimate failure and, she hoped, to keep her loved one from sinking to the depths he had the first time. If the time-traveling dirtbag she'd run into hadn't picked her up, she might've died in destitution after she'd lost her lover to alcohol and rage following the war. But that, she reminded herself, was old history.

Her fingers hovered over the buttons and the control panel for an instant, and her chest tightened. She was going to leave behind a man she had truly come to love, she knew. All so she could rescue another who had been long gone. She could even ruin all the hard work they'd done to keep the time line from unraveling, but at that point, she didn't care. She tapped in the location with a sigh. Edinburgh, Scotland on August 19th, 1745. The day that her lover, Charles Edward Stuart, had launched his fatal rebellion.

As the time machine kicked into motion, Lucia leaned back and stared at the portrait of Charles that the machine was displaying alongside other information about the time. Her stomach twisted as she recollected how everything had fallen apart after the rebellion. True, the failure of the rebellion had been her entire goal at the time. That was what the Hanoverian government had sent her to accomplish. But in the process, she'd never intended to fall in love with the man leading it, and she'd certainly never intended to become his mistress or bear him a daughter.

She bit her lip, thinking of the time when she hadn't been Lucia but had instead been known as Clementina Walkinshaw, mistress of Charles Stuart. She'd changed her name to Lucia when she ended up stranded in pre-Rome Greece and needed to fit in as much as possible. The name had seemed a good choice at the time, and then it had stuck.

The time machine beeped, pulling her from her thoughts and alerting her that she'd arrived at her destination. Taking a deep breath, she rose and walked to the machine, smoothing down the dress she'd put on before leaving and ditching the apron she'd used to protect it while she worked on fine-tuning the machine. It was time to face Charles again after all this time spent traipsing around time periods that weren't her own.

***

While Lucia was preparing herself to face the man who knew her as Clementina, the others were in the time machine room, staring at the machine as it flickered back into view.

"Where is Lucia?" Aetius paced the length of the hub's platform, rounding on Manfred when he reached the end.

Manfred pulled up the logs on the time machine's hub and frowned. "Any idea why she would want to go to Scotland in 1745? Did she see something going wrong and go to fix it?"

"No. She'd never do something like that. Besides, there are no alerts on the machine right now." Aetius smacked his palm against the machine's smooth wall.

"Well, that's where the machine went. I guess we'll have to go find her." Manfred rubbed his temples, thinking that it was always one problem after another with this mess. "We'll figure out why she went later."

Aetius bounded to the machine and wrenched the door open, hurtling inside. Manfred and the others followed him aboard at a slower pace. Casting a quick glance around the cabin, Aetius noticed the lack of the usual faces.

William stared back at him with tired eyes. The Scotsman would be an asset since this was his time period too, Aetius recalled. Jarl Starkad slumped in a chair nearby. The remainder of the team consisted of himself, Manfred, and Medekhgui. Nefertiti had remained in the sick bay, catatonic after In-Sook's suicide.

He sighed. "Between the five of us, let's bring her home before anything else goes wrong."

***

The time machine touched down in Scotland in the middle of a rainstorm. The five travelers stumbled out of the ship one after the other, their clothing soaked through seconds after they left the shelter of the time machine. The group looked about, wondering where to head from their location to reach Edinburgh and wondering how they would locate Lucia. William, who had been standing on the threshold of the machine, shook his head. "Never would hae thought I'd come back here. And on such a dreich day too."

The others eyed him for a long moment, wondering what a dreich day might be. As it happened, William was simply remarking about the miserable condition of the weather. Seeing their blank looks, he shrugged, wondering if all lowlanders were as absent-minded as these. "Well, best be findin' the dighted lassie, then." He stepped off the threshold, entirely unaware that in this altered time line, visiting his home country had been a very poor idea indeed.

The others watched as the Scotsman was there one instant and vanished the next as the door to the time machine slammed shut with an ominous bang. Manfred gasped and Aetius took a step back. The others stared, frozen in amazement.

"Where did he go?" Manfred craned his neck, looking for any sign of the now missing Scotsman.

This was a question no one else had an answer for. A second later, while everyone was still pondering this, the time machine also disappeared from view. They remained there, scratching their heads and wondering at the peculiarity of it. Manfred continued searching the area, unable to believe what he'd just seen. His worry mounted as no sign of William was to be found.

In this case, fortunately for William, the worry was unfounded. The time machine had been equipped with the singular ability to recognize when people couldn't return to their timelines for one reason or another and had sucked William back inside. The machine had, in this way, saved the man's life because if he had remained a moment longer on Scottish soil in 1745, he would've ceased to exist altogether. Instead, he simply found himself back in the hub at the museum, disoriented and dumbstruck by the whole affair.

Back in Scotland, Manfred and the others soon gave up the search when no sign of William could be found.

"There's nothing to do but forge on without him. We'll have to hope he made back safely." Manfred waved for the rest of the group to follow him. "On to Edinburgh then. By this time, Charles Stuart should've taken it already. Maybe we can find some word of Lucia there since it's where the machine took her."

Following Manfred's lead, the group trudged through the heavy rain toward Edinburgh, praying there would be a warm, dry place where they could earn a bed for the night.

***

Lucia had found a much warmer welcome to Edinburgh than the others. First, it wasn't down pouring when she arrived, and second, when she'd informed the soldiers of who she was, she'd been taken straight to Charles. She stood in the center of his bedroom in his command center at Edinburgh, marveling at the speed with which he had taken the town.

The door opened, and she spun around to take in Charles's visage. He looked as bright and enthusiastic as she'd remembered him being before the cause failed. Biting her lip, she crossed her arms over her stomach and reminded herself that he wasn't yet the cruel drunkard who had ultimately forced her to flee him in fear of her life. Instead, he was still the young, charming visionary with hopes for the future.

"Clementina?" Charles strode across the room and took her by the upper arms, unable to believe what he was seeing. "But I had news ye died, lass."

"Died?" Lucia frowned, thinking that it was too early for that.

"Yes. Ye were kidnapped and they killed ye when they couldnae get the ransom. How is this possible?"

"I dinnae ken why he'd say such a thing. But I'm nae dead, and I'm here to warn ye." Lucia chewed on her lower lip, thinking that it was easier to slip into the Scottish brogue that she'd grown up with than it should have been with all the years of time travel.

"Warn me?" Charles pulled her over to sit on the bed beside him, a small smile playing on the edges of his lips. "Don't haver, ye wicked lass. Explain why yer here."

She shook her head, clutching his hands in hers. "I dinnae come to speak rubbish, Charles. I swear it. Ye cannae continue yer uprisin'."

"Why not?" Charles squeezed her hands in his. "Yer heid's in a fankle, lass. Maybe ye oughta lay down."

Lucia resisted his attempts to calm her, wondering if he'd always been this thick-headed. "No, I'm not confused. I cannae lay down. Ye must listen to me, Charles."

"Lass, what yer sayin' is madness. I cannae call off the rebellion."

"Why not? Charles, it is doomed to fail."

"Aye, right! Yer heid's full o' mince today. Did ye fall and hit yer heid?"

She stood, abandoning all attempts at niceties. "Charles, I cannae tell ye how I know, but yer goin' to fail if ye keep at this."

He stood too, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Lass, ye know I care for ye a great deal, but I cannae do what yer askin'. I appreciate the concern, but 'tis nae needed."

"Yer wrong." She clung to him even as she disagreed, her eyes tearing up as frustration spiraled through her gut, knotting and twisting her stomach. "I'm beggin' ye, Charles... Don't be a bampot. If ye ever held me in any regard, take my advice."

He wrinkled his nose. "Ye dinnae really think that of me, do ye?"

"That yer a bampot?" Lucia smiled, but it was pale imitation of her usual bright smirk. "If ye dinnae heed my warnin', I will."

He shook his head. "Clementina, I wish I could humor ye, lass, but I cannae."

She burst into tears, knowing that if she didn't change his mind, he would land himself in a world of trouble and she would lose him. "Charles, I dinnae want to lose ye, but that's what will happen if ye continue doin' what yer doin'."

"There's no reason ye will lose me, neach-gaoil." He pressed his forehead to hers. "Nae after I just found out ye were nae lost to me."

Her lower lip wobbled, and she fought to restrain the tears, remembering the last time he'd called her his sweetheart had been long, long ago. "No, Charles... I ken yer lost to me if ye go through with this. It'll make ye a screwball, and I cannae bear that."

The pad of his thumb brushed away tears and caressed her cheeks. He wondered what had happened to make the woman so distraught over the rebellion and so certain it would fail. "Ach, dinnae cry, lass. Come then... Some sleep will make ye feel better."

She leaned into his touch, her tears still spilling over his fingers as her eyes fluttered shut. She couldn't convince him for now, she thought. Perhaps with more time and further attachment, she might still redeem him from this treacherous path. This was false hope on her part as history would play out as it was intended to despite the hitch that her presence would cause. But for that moment, she believed it wholeheartedly and prayed that he would come around so she might have her home and her lover back like she'd always wanted. In that instant, her mind flew back to Aetius, and she felt a twinge of guilt at leaving him for another man. She did love him, she thought, but he couldn't compare to home, could he?

Charles, unsure why she was suddenly silent, bit his lip and held her close to him, giving her a few moments of silence.

"Can ye stay with me?" She pressed her cheek to his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat, reassuring herself that all would work out.

"I dinnae think that would be for the best, lass."

"Please. Just stay until I fall asleep. I've been through a lot, Charles." She tightened her hold on his waist.

"Fine, ye've convinced me. Ye can sleep here then. And when ye wake, ye can tell me what's got ye so upset, lass." He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed with a sigh. "Somethin' dreadful must hae happened for ye to be in such a state."

She whimpered, not wanting to consider everything she'd been through or the things she was leaving behind even now so that she could be here to try to salvage a life she'd already lost once.

***

It would have been a better choice to stay put instead of traipsing about the Scottish countryside in the rain. But since they'd already set out, Manfred and the others were committed to the course that put them directly in the path of several of Kenneth's agents, who had gotten stuck in Scotland when they'd tried to kidnap Charles Stuart. The attempt hadn't gone well, and their machine had broken, leaving them stranded where they were.

This fateful encounter was set in stone as soon as the group chose to walk to Edinburgh in the rain. Kenneth's agents ran across them a few miles outside the town.

Manfred lifted his head and wiped the rain from his eyes, squinting as shapes materialized from the fog and rain. At the point that he noticed Kenneth's men, they were already on top of each other. Aetius, who had been ahead of him, let out a curse, and Manfred heard a grunt of pain from someone else.

"Watch where you're going!"

Manfred raised a brow, thinking that in this rain, that would be a difficult feat. "We didn't mean any harm! We're trying to reach Edinburgh."

The men finally came into focus through the rain as they came closer and squinted at them. "You don't look like you're from around here." The man at the front glared at him through the rain.

"We aren't. We got lost."

"Really?" The man spit on the ground. "Seems we have something in common then. Only one problem... There's no harbor for miles around here. So, I have to ask, how'd you get lost around here anyway?"

"Well, we went out for a stroll from a nearby town and didn't realize how easily we could get lost."

"Ye people bampots?" One of the men behind their leader snickered. "Never go traipsin' about the Scottish countryside without a guide if yer nae from here. Ye lookin' to get lost?"

Manfred blinked. Even with the translators, he had no idea what a bampot was, but he suspected it wasn't very flattering. "Yes, I suppose we must be since that's what we did. Though it wasn't our intent. Do you know how we can get Edinburgh?"

The leader snorted and waved behind him. "Keep walking that way and you'll run across it. Wouldn't recommend you go there though."

"Why is that?" Manfred frowned, thinking that among other reasons not to go was the fact that it was currently in upheaval due to the change in authority.

This question was one the leader didn't like, particularly since it required him to explain to Manfred that he and his men were on the run from Clementina's uncle and Charles Stuart because they'd kidnapped Clementina for ransom. When they realized it wouldn't work out, they'd killed her and fled, but not before someone saw them and informed her uncle. Not wishing to let the Stuarts know where they were, their leader plastered on a smile and shrugged. "Power play happened and now Charles Stuart's the one in control of it. Took it for the Jacobites."

Manfred sighed. "I thought as much. Well, good day to you, gentlemen. Thank you for your help."

He motioned for the rest of the group to follow him, which they did.

"Good luck."

The men parted to let them pass with smiles that looked a little too predatory for Manfred's liking. Shrugging off the feeling, he told himself not to be so paranoid and continued on his way.

***

Turning up at Edinburgh was both the best and the worst thing Manfred's group could've done. The man who answered the guards' call of alarm arrested them on sight. The men fought as best they could, but they were outnumbered, and the man who commanded the guards ordered them to use lethal force. Though they didn't know it then, the man they faced was none other than Kiereth Alatan, the man responsible for leaving Lucia stranded in ancient Greece.

He knew well who they were and had been keeping an eye on them and the rest of the time travelers for some time since Lucia ended up with them. He motioned for the guards to take out Medekhgui and Jarl, the two who were expendable and not terribly important to Lucia. The guards shot them without hesitation, and in a moment, two of them were dead and the remaining two had been overpowered.

Kiereth smirked down at them, thinking of how he could use this to get to Lucia now that she'd shown up in her own time again. She was going to pay for thinking she could get away with arguing with him like she had in Greece, he thought. "Take them back to the receiving room, but wait to enter until I tell you to."

At that very moment, Lucia was standing in the receiving room where Charles had left her, assuring her that his adviser would be in shortly to ensure she was well-cared for and shown to her rooms. She tapped a foot against the stone floors, wondering when the man would show up. Later, she would wish he hadn't shown up at all.

When the door squealed open, she spun on her heel, looking for the adviser. Her eyes met dancing green ones then roamed over a stubble-covered jaw up to windswept black hair before settling back on the green eyes. Her jaw clenched as the man's identity sunk in.

Kiereth stood in the doorway with a smirk on his full lips. "Hello, darling. Didn't expect to see me, did you?"

"What are ye doin' here!" She bit her lip, shocked at how the brogue had become second-nature again so quickly. "Ye dinnae belong here."

"Well, I figured I'd come help ensure the failure of this farce, dearest. Though frankly, after taking you with me the first time, I'm not sure I'd repeat the mistake. Still, it's always interesting to see what we'd do if presented with the choice again under other circumstances." He clapped his hands together. "Of course, my lady, the Clementina from this time period met quite an untimely end at the hands of some other time travelers. Don't worry... I won't tell anyone."

Lucia lifted her chin, her breath coming in rapid pants. She gritted her teeth, reminding herself never to show Kiereth any weakness. Weakness, she'd found, would let him reel one in with his charm and spit them back out again in pieces. "So, you're a spy."

"Spy is such a nasty word, darling." He glided to where she stood, taking her in with a rakish gaze. Then he grinned, thinking she was still as beautiful and determined as ever. "Now, perhaps I ought to find a way to make it look like you disappeared after all. I'm finding that the longer I look at you, the more I regret leaving you in Greece." He took her chin in his hands, musing over how she might still prove a good conquest between the sheets.

She yanked her chin from his grip. "Dinnae touch me, ye beast. I'll tell Charles ye tried to force yerself upon me."

"You'll do no such thing, my dear." He leaned in, his hot breath curling around her ear seconds before his lips brushed her earlobe. "Because if you do, I'll have you friends executed."

"What?" Her voice strangled in her throat. "Ye cannae. I hae nae friends here for ye to execute."

"No? What about the handsome Roman who rescued you from Greece?" The tip of his tongue flicked over the shell of her ear. "You didn't really think he'd just let you go without looking, did you?"

Her entire frame trembled when his hands went to her waist, holding her in place, and she hated herself for being weak. "He's here?"

"Yes. And if you give me what I want and keep quiet, I'll make sure he and the Prussian don't die."

"No one else came with them?"

"Two others. But they're dead already. I killed them in the struggle to take the other two alive." He laughed as she let out a breathy whimper, thinking that if he had his way, she'd be making a lot of those sounds.

She stiffened, her lower lip wobbling. "Why me, Kiereth?"

"You were so easy but so full of fire, darling. Thought you were so independent escaping from Charles like you did. Don't worry... I'll forgive you for the things you said back in Greece. I'll even take you back."

She pushed him away, stumbling back with a cry. "I dinnae want ye back!"

He growled, enjoying her fighting spirit. "It doesn't matter. I'll have you anyway."

"Ye cannae!"

"I can." He turned to the door. "Bring them in, guards."

The doors opened again, and four guards dragged the bloodied and bruised forms of Manfred and Aetius into the receiving room. Two others followed behind and dumped the unmoving corpses of Medekhgui and Jarl on the ground beside the two men in chains. Manfred and Aetius had fought their hardest, but it had been to no avail.

Aetius's gaze lifted to fall on Lucia, and his jaw clenched. "Lucia, what is wrong with you? We thought you'd been kidnapped or killed."

Her hands shook at her sides, and she wondered what to say. Her gaze flew to Kiereth. He raised a brow before striding over to Aetius and kicking him in the side. "No one asked you to speak, English scum!"

Lucia's eyes widened, and her hands flew to cover her mouth as her stomach lurched. Kiereth's gaze met hers, and he smirked.

"Kiereth, stop!" She flew across the distance and grabbed his arm. "Ye cannae hurt him. Remember what ye said."

Kiereth shrugged and backed off, letting her drop to her knees beside Aetius.

"So, you're one of them?" Aetius coughed, spitting blood onto the floor and wondering how he could've been stupid enough to believe she'd stay.

"Aetius, I...I had somethin' I had to do."

"You deserted me without even a note. I should've known you weren't what you seemed." He jerked his chin toward Kiereth, baring blood-stained teeth and wishing he could rip the man's throat out. "So, you with him? Is he the reason you came back?"

Lucia shook her head, her heart fluttering and her thoughts scattering. "N-no... I wouldnae leave ye for him."

Kiereth glided across the room and pulled Lucia to her feet. "Darling, sparing his feelings is no good. Whoever he is to you, he's a spy. And he must be treated as such."

Aetius's upper lip curled, and he glared at Lucia. "You lied to me."

"I never lied to ye, Aetius. I swear it." Her eyes filled with tears, and she wrenched out of Kiereth's grip, despising the way he touched her as if they were still lovers.

"From what I can see, you lied to me about everything. Let him do whatever he wants, Lucia. The caring, penitent act can't hide the ugliness underneath." Aetius growled, his stomach churning at the thought of her being with another man. But he pushed the thought away. She was a liar who had been playing him the whole time, he thought, and she had broken his heart in a few minutes of time. She didn't deserve anything from him.

Lucia let out a cry and dissolved into tears. She hadn't wanted this. And in trying to fix what she'd messed up in her own time, she'd hurt a man she loved dearly. His words struck deep, wounding her to the quick. She clapped her hands over her mouth and turned away, trying to hide her tears from him. In doing so, she exposed her tears to Kiereth. To his credit, he kept the smirk off his face and the laughter out of his voice as he addressed the guards. "Get them out of my sight. Tell Prince Charles that we caught some suspected spies and that I'm questioning them."

The guards dragged Manfred and Aetius from the room while Kiereth restrained her so she couldn't go after them. She lost control of her tears and the anger welling deep in the pit of her stomach as soon as they'd left the room. She slammed a fist against Kiereth's chest, her hatred growing as she realized that his touch still brought back echoes of the nights he'd spent in her bed, helping her to forget Charles's abusive touch.

"I know you like things rough, but hitting is unnecessary at this moment." Kiereth grabbed her wrist before she could slap him.

A gut-wrenching sob spasmed through her, and she sagged against him. "I hate ye. How dare ye do somethin' so atrocious?"

"Have you learned nothing from our time together, love?" Kiereth lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers.

She kept her lips firmly sealed even when he flicked his tongue over her bottom lip. His fingers dug into her side, but she still refused. She pressed her palms against his chest and tried to push him off her.

He remained where he was and pulled her closer, biting her lower lip. This got him what he wanted as she yelped and allowed him access to her mouth. His mouth plundered hers, and she whimpered, her tears slipping down her cheeks as his tongue slid over hers, the sense of violation increasing. She froze in place, memories flooding her and taking her back to all the nights of abuse before she'd fled Charles.

In that moment, she lost the fight and surrendered, crying even as she realized she'd lost. She was no longer the strong, free woman she'd built herself into since he'd left her in Greece. Now, she was back to being the woman who had been broken and no longer remembered how to fight for herself. Worse even than her relapse was Kiereth's intimate knowledge of how to exploit it. He softened the kiss, letting her have more control, teasing her with equality just as he always did.

Her knees crumpled when he released her, and she fell to the fall in front of him. Her gaze fixed on the stones and his boots, but she didn't process anything she was seeing. When the doors opened again, she remained where she was.

"What is goin' on here, Kiereth? Why is she on the floor?"

"Sire, this woman was consorting with the spies I sent guards to inform you of."

Lucia's gaze flew to his, her lips parting. What was he playing at now, she wondered. She had agreed to his demands. His disdainful sneer almost convinced her, and it did convince Charles, but she could see the smugness in his eyes. They seemed to laugh at her, asking her what she would do now.

"Is this true, Clementina?"

She opened her mouth to speak, and Kiereth raised a brow at her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she bowed her head and refused to speak. He would kill Aetius and Manfred if she spoke out. Her heart clenched as she realized that what she'd been chasing with Charles had been nothing but a distant dream. He wasn't the man she truly loved. Tears prickled in her eyes as Charles sighed, and she wondered how she could've been such a fool. Coming here, she reflected, was the biggest mistake of her life. Even trusting Kiereth and Charles back then hadn't been as big of a mistake. At least those mistakes hadn't lost her the one man she really loved.

"Ye hae proof?"

"I caught them with her myself." Kiereth bowed his head. "I know you were fond of her, my lord, but we cannot risk the cause for her."

Charles's boots clacked against the stone, and he came into view beside Kiereth. His gaze was tinged with pain and sadness. "Why would ye do this, Clementina?"

She bit her lip and looked away.

Charles sighed. "Lock her up with the others, Kiereth."

"If I may, my lord, perhaps she should be placed in a separate cell so she can't collude with them." Kiereth kept his head bowed to hide his smirk.

"Aye. Ye do that. 'Tis good I widnae heed her pleas to call off the rebellion." He turned his back on her, and Lucia felt her heart breaking into even smaller pieces.

"I'll take her myself, my lord." Kiereth hauled her to her feet.

***

Lucia sat in the cell next to Aetius and Manfred's, her tears long since dried up. She wondered if she would have a chance to make it up with Aetius and to apologize for what she'd done. She glanced through the bars to where the others were sleeping. Aetius hadn't even looked at her when she'd been dragged down to her cell in Kiereth's grip.

Kiereth had taken every opportunity to lord his power over her and had kissed her goodbye, promising to return. He would come back when he was ready to steal her away again, she realized.

Even though the others were asleep, she chose to explain herself. "I'm sorry I didnae tell ye the truth, Aetius. I wanted to go home, ye ken? But I've realized my mistake. I cannae fix what I destroyed any more than I can come home. I wish I could hae told ye the truth instead of keepin' it to myself. I ken I broke yer heart with what I did... For that, I am sorry."

Aetius stirred and rolled over to face her. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was so soft she thought she'd imagined it until he sat up and scooted over to the bars.

"Kiereth and Charles taught me never to show weakness by abusing me or taking advantage of every fear. I was feart."

He raised a brow, and she realized he didn't understand the brogue.

"I was afraid, Aetius."

He reached through the bars and took her hands in his calloused ones. "I'm sorry you had to suffer alone, Lucia. And I'm sorry for what I said."

She dropped her gaze, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I broke yer heart."

He squeezed her hands. "And I jumped to foolish conclusions. Do you want to go home now?"

She bit her lip and nodded, pressing her face to the bars. "But we cannae. I'm locked in here and yer over there."

"I brought lock picks this time. After everything we went through last trip, I thought I should be prepared." He held them up with a grin. "Use these to let yourself out of the cell before we get caught and executed by Kiereth or Charles."

She took them and slipped them into the rusty locks while Aetius woke Manfred up. The door swung open, and she rushed to unlock their doors too. Manfred blinked sleepily, but he pulled the device from his pocket and called the machine. Aetius slipped his fingers between hers before he pressed his lips to hers with gentle pressure, savoring the brief moment. "All is forgiven. Time to go home, Lucia."

The machine flickered into view, and her heart clenched as she stepped over the threshold and prepared to leave her old home. She slumped into a chair beside Aetius, her eyes filling with tears. "Yes, time to go home."

***

When they touched down in the hub, Lucia was the first one to tumble from the machine with a tearful smile. "I cannae believe I ever thought this place was nae home."

Aetius wrapped her up in his arms with a smile, letting go of the pain they'd both felt until his eye snagged on a handwritten note on the dashboard. He snatched it up and stared at it. Lucia read it too, her smile dropping.

I will be coming for you, love. There is no escape.

~K

She swallowed, a chill washing over her, and her mind bounced the problem around and around in her head. He would never leave her be, she realized, because Kiereth never lost what he wanted. And this time, she was the one in his cross-hairs.

Spot 4: MusicgirlXD

Heels echoed in the empty corridor as a lady dressed in red wondered the hall. Exhibits that now stand empty welcomed her site. A smile pulled at Blair's lips. Thought, of others were being sent back to their home, circled her mind. As Blair passed by empty sections for the medical exhibits, Her thoughts gradually changed from happiness to despair.

Kenneth had allowed the company to return home to rest before their next be assignment. Coming to a halt, Blair heaved a sigh. From being a Junior Detective for Scotland Yard, Blair was used to seeing death. However, she was never burdened with losing people she had grown closest too. Kenneth may have been giving them a break to avoid physical fatigue, for Blair, however, she used it more to recover emotionally.

Turning the corner, Blair stepped into the World Wars exhibit. Blair's pace quickened. Since she was always hidden away in her own exhibit, she never got to venter out of her cellblock. The Detective paused ever so often to take in the sights. Her first stop was the Civil War. Blair shook her head. From she was taught, the war was brother against brother, father against son and so on. The english woman could never understand. If only the Americans had stayed under their leadership than the war would have never happened.

Advancing to the next exhibit, Blair noticed the scenery was set up for an Indian. The plaque read Pontac War. Shrugging, Blair let her mind wonder. In her mind's eyes, she could see Inioa standing in a similar spot retelling his tale. Blair shook her head. He among many others expressed their desire to return to loved ones.

Straightening her back, footsteps came from behind her. They were soft barely audible. Her keen senses caught onto the sound right away. Blair turned on her heels and began to follow the sound. The footsteps stopped. Blair bite her bottom lip. The stranger no doubt heard her coming. Pausing her advance, the steps started back. The stranger figured the coast was clear.

Bending down, Blair slipped off her shoes and carried them with her. A whirling noise got her attention. Rushing into the chamber where the time machines were held, Blair watched as one used by her company disappeared. Growling, Blair hopped into another machine and blasted off. Not knowing where the stranger went, Blair put in a random number of 1776. With a mighty roar, the machine broke through the atmosphere and crashed into the ground.

Exiting the machine, Blair screamed as bullets rang out. The detective ran behind a bush, trying to leave the line of fire. Sighing, Blair felt safe in her new spot. Once the gun shots died down, Blair rose. A sharp point was pressed against her shoulder. "Put your hands up." Blair silently did as she was told.

"Now turn around." Whimpering, Blair turned to face her attacker. The detective's eyes widen. Men, with a familiar look, stood before her. They appeared to be from the future, yet, at the same time, the past. Blair studied the mens unshaved appearance along with their red and blue coats. The man wearing the red coat bore the crest of England, Blair's home.

"Who are you?" The man in blue growled.

"I am Blair Armstrong. Just passing-by."

The men narrowed their eyes. Grabbing her wrist, the man in red pulled her closer. "You are English. Come." Blair whimpered as the man gave a hard yank. The man proceeded to drag her along an unbeaten path, towards a camp filled with men. The man in blue paused. Stopping by a tree, he stooped down and replaced his blue blazer with a red one.

Before they made their way towards the camp. Gun fire began to resound. Blair fell forward to avoid being hit. An explosion resounded behind her along with brilliant flames of red and orange. Blair kicked the guards and began to roll away. Yelling came from a fence on her right. The detective turned her head just in time to watch a man with a blue blazer jump over the fence.

Lifting her hands over her head, Blair protected her self from the impending blow. The blow never came. A man, yelled from the right of her. Blair closed her eyes not knowing what to expect. "Blair." The man stated. Opening her eyes, the detective looked up. Inoia was standing before her.

"How did...."

"As a Native American, I wished to free the Americans from the rule of the British Empire."

Blair rose to her feet. "I'm from the British Empire! I wish America had never left our rule."

Inioa growled. "Then you will be my enemy." With a shit movement, the chief slammed a spear through her stomach. Blair let off a scream as she collapsed onto the ground. As Blair's vision darkened, she watched as a man in red approached the Indian. Her vision pulsed as their argument intensified. Blair couldn't hear every word. The man pointed the tip of a bayonet at Inioa's chest when her vision finally gave way. 

Spot 5: JesterheadJohnSnow

"Where am I?"

As they stepped out of the time machine, Lanre was greeted by a spectacular yet alien sight. All around him was a glossy floor the same color as the wood of an oak tree, save for one difference. Oak tree wood doesn't glitter like the time machine they had just traveled in.

Thomas glanced over at him. "We are at the base of all operations, also known as the Museum. Until recently, this was our eternal prison. Imagine being trapped in purgatory. Our experiences here are not that different."

Above, bright yellow lights shined down on the occupants of the room. If Lanre didn't know any better, he'd assume that there were several suns hovering in the air. Around them, people dressed in conflicting attire from different eras milled about and mingled with each other. He thought he noticed that a couple of the individuals were dressed like they had originated from his time period. That was when the realization set in, resulting in him shuddering.

If I had allowed myself to be taken captive by those sons of dogs back in Aker, this could have been my fate all along. A fate worse than death. Many thanks to God that I was able to overcome them before they were able to get the best of me.

Feeling a tug on his arm, the knight glanced down to see Tut staring up at him. The young Pharaoh murmured something before his shiny device, the size of two shillings, translated for them.

"Want me to give you a quick tour of the place? I was new here as well before my father habituated me to the Museum. Hard to believe that this broad area is only the basement."

Gadzooks! This prison has more branches?

Lanre took a breath before responding to the boy. "Perhaps later on when the time is ripe. Presently, your father needs to be attended to lest he succumb to his illness."

The two time travelers turned their attention back to the time machine where Starkad and Viktor carried a groggy-looking Akh out of the doors. The former Templar glanced over at his revolutionary friend and decided to ask him where the odd-looking Pharaoh would receive treatment.

"There is a small storage room that the staff calls the medical bay. It really isn't much, but they harbor small capsules that can cure every illness known to man."

"Oh, do they now?" Lanre looked intrigued. "I think I'll take up on Tut's offer to be my guide."

"Let's do it!" The young Pharaoh was ecstatic.

---

Thomas felt a smile plaster onto his bearded face as he viewed Akh and Tut playing a game of Senet and bonding as they do so. They had been lodging at the Museum's basement for a few days now, using the lull in missions to rest and replenish their supplies. The time travelers needed that time to regain their strength as they endured task after task of grueling, often life-threatening, assignments in order to tidy up the mess Kenneth and his lackeys created in order to make a fortune. The only thing that gave the others, Thomas included, the motivation to undertake those tasks was the hope that they would be allowed to return home to their family and friends once this conundrum was over.

I am dying to see Sam and John again. It has been a while since I last shared ale with them at the Green Dragon. Perhaps I will cross paths with General Washington again. Once the oppressors of the colonies are ousted, we can enjoy much more leisure time as a whole.

The thought of reuniting with his old chaps lightened the colonist's spirits. Ever since he was forced into what would be considered an unorthodox form of slavery, Thomas's spirits had been damp despite keeping it together for his team. Like him, they only carried out Kenneth's tasks in the hope of being reunited with their time period somewhere down the line.

This happened to me not once, but twice! Initially, a fire demon thought to rip me apart from my comrades, but now I am stuck in limbo inside this dungeon of sorts. I can't stand the indignity of it all!

The spy's fists clenched as a white-hot fury swept through him like a hurricane wind. Just then, blinking lights from the corner of his eye ensnared his attention. Startled out of his lament, the colonist rose from where he was seated and glanced over at the time machine. Scratching his beard, a smirk formed upon his lips.

Well, it seems that I need not spend the rest of my mortal days in this chasm. I can be reunited with my former brothers in arms once more. Ho! If fate allows it, I wish to be reunited with Abigail and Henry.

The thought of reconciling with his estranged wife and young son brought a lump in his throat. Ever since Thomas had parted with his family to join Washington and the cause, he hadn't left on good terms. His father, a former British officer, had shut off all communication with his traitorous son. He wasn't sure how his wife felt about his defection to the Patriot's side, but he had deserted her as well upon joining the rebellion. Thomas knew his decision must have hurt her more than he could imagine, but he desired to patch things up.

I have sacrificed so much in order to ensure the Patriots triumphed over the lobsterbacks and their Tory lackeys. From now on, I am through with sacrificing so much for so little. Abigail, Henry, Sam, our paths will cross sooner than you think.

Taking a shaky breath, Thomas made his way to the glowing gray box.

---

"What is it , Akh?" Paul groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I require my beauty sleep. In fact, we all do. We have been on our toes for the past few months, digging in just to keep our butts alive."

"I can see that." The Pharaoh, now fully recovered from falling violently ill from their recent occurrence the Americas, glanced at each of the eight other time travelers congregated around their secluded corner of the basement.

"Then can you explain to us what you hoped to accomplish in calling us over here." Paul crossed his arms, his green helmet tipping over the side of his head. "I am sure we all had better things to accomplish, right?" The American private's gray eyes darted from each of his comrades.

"Pardon my interjection, but why isn't Thomas joining us?" Starkad's weathered face bore a befuddled expression. The rest of the squad members murmured in unison.

"Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was getting to that." Akh glared at Paul. " Earlier in the day, I discovered this note near his sleeping quarters." Akh handed a rumpled brown parchment to the nearest time traveler, who happened to be Lanre. The Templar accepted the piece of paper and looked through it while frowning.

"Na Dann!" Kepler frowned. "I ashumed zhe Frenchman shpoke no Eengleesh. "

"I..speak...bit." Lanre struggled to communicate in his broken English. "Can...decipher...and ...understand."

"Vell, Vhat does eet zay?" Viktor urged impatiently. They were all anxious to learn what their companion was up to.

"It appears that our friend Thomas has taken a trip back to his own time period so he could tie up some loose ends," Akh explained.

It took the others a moment to ingest that piece of information before letting out a flurry of jumbled sentences at the Pharaoh. Akh raised a hand, immediately silencing the others. It felt good to take charge once again.

"What do we do?" Chenggong asked. "For arr we know, he cood damage teh heestory we worked so hard to feex."

"It's simple." Starkad straightened his dark blue cloak around his broad frame. "We go after him and drag him back by force if necessary."

"So soon?" Paul gaped. "We barely had time to lick our wounds and now you want us to enter another backward period inhabited by people that would kill us on sight?"

"We don't have a choice." Akh strode with Starkad as they strode toward the nearest time machine. "Tough times call for tough measures."

Paul groaned as they boarded the machine. Tut smirked as he playfully tapped his friend's back.

"Trust me, this is going to be as fun as last time. Well, at least I hope so."

---

Merciful Lord, I am home once again!

Thomas blinked several times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Before him lay the town of Boston, his new adopted home and where he would switch sides in the ensuing conflict. It was here in the small colony of Massachusetts that the ghastly Boston massacre would occur. After seeing Crispus Attucks and few others gunned down for pelting a few redcoats with snowballs, Thomas decided he could not serve in an army that would not hesitate to slay unarmed civilians over trivial slights. After all, he couldn't blame the common folk since the event was the result of tightening British tax laws and tariffs in order to further implement their draconic rules onto the colonies. It started off with the Stamp Act, followed by the Sugar Act. To add insult upon injury, the Townshend Acts were shoved down the throats of the poor colonists, all without representation. This was why his friend Sam Adams liked to say "No taxation without representation."

I know not which segment of the Revolutionary War I have arrived in, but I pray that the Green Dragon isn't in shambles.

A shallow breath leaving his mouth, the colonial spy decided to enter the quiet city. The sky was as dark as a shroud with only a few stars twinkling among it. The buildings, made of timber or brick, had candlelight as bright as an angel's halo glowing out of their windows.

I assume the evening is still young. Let's hope the war doesn't shatter this lovely peace we have here.

Thomas meandered into the city where a few people were milling about. He noticed a merchant preparing his wares for the following morning as a couple dockworkers chatted with him. His eyes then caught sight of several British soldiers gathered in front of the bell tower, its maroon shape almost black in the gathering darkness of the night. Hearing marching footsteps on the opposite end of the cobbled path, he quickly ducked into the nearest alley.

Only those flea-ridden redcoats trot that way.

Cautiously peeking out from the side, the British defector watched as a regiment of British soldiers marched through the street. Holding his breath, Thomas kept a hand on his musket that he could never part with, especially in tough times like these. Fortunately for him, the sea of vermillion colors had passed without an alarm being raised. Keeping to the shadows, Thomas lay as still as a statue before deciding it was safe to venture out. Despite being possibly written off as deceased by the enemy, Thomas couldn't afford to take any risks.

---

Ah, Boston Harbor. How long has it been since I last set foot here?

A small zephyr flew through the air, ruffling the colonist's shaggy chestnut-colored hair. The dark waters of the harbor, reflecting some of the candlelight shining through the nearby buildings, heaved up and down like a sleeping dragon. Several ships, ranging from British prison and warships to regular merchant ships, shuddered as the waves attempted to toss them in the air. Thomas smiled slightly as he recalled the events that occurred here before he was whisked away from his life. Colonists disguised as Mohawk Indians would sneak aboard British ships, tossing tea overboard to protest the series of tariffs being forced upon the suffocating colonists.

I only wish I was invited to the Boston Tea Party. It must have been quite a celebration.

Thomas chuckled to himself as he recalled the face of Governor Hutchinson as he learned off the event. This incident shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone.After all, a cornered dog always lashes out. The Coercive, also known as the Intolerable, Acts served as catalysts for the movement against the occupiers rather than to punish the colony of Massachusetts. That is what led the First Continental Congress to convene a couple months later in how to tackle the British issue.

I can't believe how far I came since I defected from the brutal oppressors of the common folk. It really is wondrous.

Before the former colonist could blink, he felt the familiar cold end of a sabre pressed into his neck.

"Move ah muscle and ah'll cut yer throat out!"

Slightly caught off guard, the revolutionary raised his hands in the air to show he lacked any dangerous arms. Once his attacker's attention slipped, he'd capitalize on that moment to turn the sabre against its bearer. It seemed that he might have encountered a smuggler in the midst of his taciturn operation. This was nothing rare since the war had kicked off.

"Fear not,I mean no arm. I have no weapons on me." Thomas lowly turned around to face his assailant, only to gasp in recognition.

"Hutch! Long time no see. How are things coming along?"

His assailant, a red-bearded man with burly arms, lowered his weapon once he recognized his old colleague. The smuggler had been one of the people recruited by him to serve as spies for General Washington due to the lack of any reliable intelligence groups for the Patriots. Now, the larger man's blue eyes shined with a baffled expression before he engulfed Thomas in a bear hug.

"Thomas, mah friend! We taht you were dead! Dose dirty redcoats musta done you in."

"I am a hard man to kill." The former British spy chuckled. "Why don't we grab some ale at the Green Dragon?"

---

"You sure we arrived at the right time?"

Akh glanced around their new environment. They were stuck in the middle of the woods bearing dark trees as well as sprouting green plants. There seemed to be a little mist scattered about the forest, but most had dissipated. The chirping of birds as well as the cries of other animals were the only sound that resounded around the men. Akh turned to explain the situation to his fellow time travelers.

"I am quite sure we are in Thomas's era. If I was certain it was otherwise, I wouldn't be so skittish of this atmosphere. It feels like I am in a spooky realm."

"Vhat doesn't zpook you?" Viktor chuckled. The rest of the gang chortled at the Soviet's quip as Akh turned bright red.

"This is no time for levity. We must focus on finding our not so intuitive friend before he scrambles his own period. Dear Aten, why couldn't we just take a break for once?"

Before long, they had found an exit from the dense forest and came upon a grassy plain. Before them, a barn was situated with fences keeping the livestock from making a dash for it. The cloudy atmosphere gave the place an ominous appearance.

"You suppose Thomas cood be eenside?" Chenggong suggested.

His fellow Chinaman Xinyi uttered a reply, causing the Ming rebel to smile.

"What is so amusing?" Akh demanded.

It was Tut who replied. "Xinyi suggested we storm the structure as it could be where Thomas is held hostage."

"We will do no such- Hey, get back here at once!"

Xinyi, Chenggong, Starkad, and Viktor had made a dash to the barn.

No, no, no! They are going to ruin things!

Akh and the remaining members of the team trailed the runners who scaled the fence and came upon the home.

"Eef you zo dezire, I can breach zhese doors." Viktor started to unload some explosive charges from his bag as the Pharaoh looked on in shock. Before anyone could object or support the Soviet soldier, the doors of the farm shot open and a few soldiers dressed in blue attire similar to Thomas's pointed their weapons at them.

"Halt! Hands in the air!"

Seeing no other alternative, the time travelers obeyed the soldiers. They were then herded toward the opposite end of the building.

"Vell, at leasht ve have zhe matter decided for ush." Kepler smiled weakly.

"Silence!" One soldier prodded the German. "General Washington would be delighted to know about your intentions. You will spend the night inside the pig pen with the other spies."

"Other...spies?" Lanre narrowed his eyes.

Soon, they were placed alongside four other people dressed in black and red combat gear. Akh recalled that some of the people that had whisked him away from his period donned similar forms of dress. Could these be Kenneth's agents? If so, what was their objective? Where they here to rescue Thomas or to kidnap more poor souls away from their life and families? He noted that there were three men and one woman being held at gunpoint by the soldiers. One of the men had the same skin tone as Akh, only his hair was short-cropped. The second man had a shaved head similar to Silas, but tattoos covered half of his skin. The last guy looked similar to Chenggong and Xinyi whereas the woman had her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Hello, I am Tut." Akh's son turned to greet their fellow prisoners. "Pleasure to meet you. What are your names?"

---

"You possess the luck of the Devil, don't you?"

Thomas chuckled as he took a swig of his drink. It had slipped his mind how long ago he had tasted ale so refreshing around his old friends. The moment he and Hutch had entered the Green Dragon, John Hancock and Sam Adams had reacted as if he was a resurrected wight. He couldn't fault them for their erroneous perception as this was the second time that he was written off for dead and managed to reappear in the world of the living like a phantom. No matter their initial skepticism of his identity, his chums were relieved to have him back.

"I may, but there shall be no qualms to the claim that I am a survivor." Thomas smiled, finishing off his drink. The ale was a welcome solution to his dry mouth, the result of the divulgence of his capture by Kenneth's cronies to his homecoming. His eyes then landed on the flag with thirteen stars plastered on the wooden wall of the tavern, a relic gifted to them by their old friend Betsy Ross. Each of the stars symbolized the thirteen colonies currently fighting for their independence.

"Aye, be as it may, we are managing to stave off the advances of the Redcoats, however, despite our best efforts, the tides of war are currently not in our favor."

A look of concern passed across Thomas's face as he heard the troubling news from John Hancock. "I see. That is quite some unfortunate news that you bear. Regardless, I have very little doubt that the people shall prevail over tyranny. Mind if you both enlighten me on what I may have missed due to my untimely absence?"

John and Sam took turns filling in Thomas on events that had transpired in the past year. Thomas Paine had authored Common Sense in order to enlighten the colonies to the cause. Not long after, Sam's cousin John had managed to cajole Thomas Jefferson into writing the Declaration of Independence, sealing the fate of the colonies.

"The redcoats have also unveiled Captain Nathan Hale." Sam's brown eyes narrowed as he leaned back in his seat. "They made his hanging public with no trial. I am pleased to say the man died smiling."

"If only I knew him personally, I'd perhaps feel more moved by this news." Thomas had recalled General George Washington mention the spy several times during an operation, but Thomas never had the honor to meet him. "He sounds like an honorable man to me. Since I am here, I am prepared to commit my life fully to the cause, but my reason for returning encompasses another objective which is love not just for my country, but for someone else."

Intrigued, Sam leaned over the counter to hear his friend out. "Do tell."

"I would like to find a way to reconnect with my wife and my young son and bring possibly bring them over to Boston."

John and Sam exchanged befuddled glances. "Thomas, I would like to inform you that there is a war going on and now is not the best of times to accomplish such a feat. Perhaps you can wait out the war and once conditions permit it, you can bring them over to Boston."

Thomas felt a dull ache in his chest, but understood John's reasoning. "You have a point. I will dedicate my time and energy to the cause. Is there any way I can make contact with General Washington? I need to get reinstated to my previous post as soon as possible!"

"Ah can take ye tah him!" Thomas flinched as Hutch's meaty hand clutched his shoulder. he had forgotten the smuggler was present. "He's heading tah New York. Ah will smuggle ye tah dah lines in da morn."

"I am most pleased." Thomas couldn't help but smile. It was heartwarming to be reunited with his old friends, especially since the last time he stepped foot in the Green Dragon was when they were rooted out that British spy. In the effort to stop her, a demonic creature had nearly torn the place to shambles. Thomas chuckled to himself as he recalled the chaos that ensued.

Ah, the memories.

---

"Let's get a move on! We won't receive another opportunity such as this."

Thomas watched as the Patriots started to slide the boats into the icy water. The objective was for the Continental Army to cross before returning to ferry Washington to Trenton in the colony of New Jersey and take the local Hessian garrison by surprise. This would be a great way to turn the tables since the Continental Army and their Minuteman allies after the setbacks suffered in the Battles of Lexington, Concord, and of Bunker Hill. Thomas had lost his good friend Dr. Joseph Warren during the latter.

Here's to hope that this will finally turn the tide. The American colonists shall suffer King George's brutality no more once this brutal war ends.I will personally make sure of it.

Taking a deep steady breath in the chilly winter air, the strategist watched intently as the first boats set off. Once most of the troops were on the other side of the Delaware, the last boat would return to take Washington and Thomas to Trenton. Despite what the people in the future had assumed, Washington never was at the forefront of the crossing due to the risk of being captured by the enemy. This operation had taken a considerable amount of time to plan due to the high risks involved. The original goal was to have three separate crossings to harass the British and Hessian forces nestled in the town, but General Ewing and Captain Cawalder's forces weren't able to make it through. This may have seemed like a suicide mission, but everyone who was dedicated enough to accept it came aboard.

"Cypher, it is time. Let's show the Hessians that they possess bad judgement in underestimating us."

Intrigued that General Washington had referred to him by his code name, Thomas tightened his tan cloak against himself and made his way into the Durham boat beside the general. The gale had picked up, tossing snowflakes in their faces as they set off. One would have to be mad in order to attempt such a crossing in dangerous weather, but Thomas had convinced Washington's other strategists that they can use the storm to their advantage. After all, the enemy forces wouldn't expect an attack during a winter storm on a Christmas night, especially not even the spies who spilled the beans on their position.

Let us pray this is the decisive battle we so desperately need.

---

"Let's strike from the left flank. Most of the soldiers are drunk from their Christmas party and won't see us coming until it is too late. Let's move!"

At Washington's behest, Thomas accompanied several Continental Army soldiers and dug in behind a snow-covered hillside in order to observe the enemy position. Only a couple of guards, who seemed to be half-asleep, were stationed outside of the barracks in the midst of the snowstorm. After all, who expected an assault on a fortified base by rebellious colonists during a snowy Christmas night. Thomas assumed that this situation should work in the favor of the Patriots.

"Liberty or death!"

At the signal, the colonists rose from their position and charged the poorly guarded barracks. The two Hessian guards, taken completely off-guard, whirled around to face the approaching rebels. Before the first could get a shot off, Thomas, a loaded musket present in his hand, let out a round. The musket ball ended up sending the mercenary to the snow as the Continental army forced their way inside the barracks. Tailing his comrades inside the structure, Thomas fell upon the drunk Hessians, several who were playing cards while the rest were slumbering through the event, and cut through them with his stolen sabre.

"Ho! Watch your flank!"

Heeding the warning of one of the Continental soldiers whose regiment he was attached to, the time traveler turned to come face to face with a Hessian mercenary that was drunkenly attempting to skewer him with his bayonet. Thomas evaded the blow by ducking to one side and by lunging to the left flank of his assailant, striking him across the base of the neck with his sabre. As vermillion blood sprayed onto his cloak, Thomas felt the rush of battle course through his blood, this time for a cause that meant his world to him. Never again shall he immerse himself in the issues of other periods when his had plenty that required his attention.

"Do we have them all?"

Thomas glanced around the dining hall off the barracks, now lined with the corpses of the Hessians. Despite a few Continental Army soldiers littered here and there, the colonists had secured the barracks with only a few losses.

I don't give Sun Tzu enough credit. The element of surprise can do wonders for an army that is outmanned or outgunned.

Thomas walked up to one of the captured Hessians, held up by two of his companions, lined up on the wall. Judging by his blueish uniform too ornate to belong to the Continental army, Thomas assumed him to be an officer. The time traveler noted the blood seeping from the left side of the man's coat and knew he had been grievously wounded, perhaps mortally.

"Are you the officer in charge of this garrison?" Thomas inquired.

"Aye, I am." The man shot him a glare. "Colonel Johann Rall."

"How many men do you have stationed in this garrison?"

"Over a thousand," Colonel Rall muttered. It was obvious that the man was humiliated by such a crushing defeat, but saw no point in resisting. After all, mercenaries were in it for the money and not out of loyalty.

Thomas turned to one of the Continental soldiers, a young lad with long brown hair in a ponytail. "Fetch General Washington. Victory is ours tonight."

"Straight away."

As the soldier turned to leave, Thomas noted that his left arm hung limply at his side, a sign that he had taken a wound or two during the skirmish. "Halt!"

Startled, the boy turned to face him. "Yes?"

"What's your name, boy?"

"James Monroe."

---

"You sure this location is ideal?"

Draping his timber-colored cloak tighter around himself as Jack Frost struck at them with the icy wind, Thomas rode alongside Washington and several of his lieutenants down the hillside toward the snow-covered valley. The year was 1777, which signified that one year had passed since their victory at Trenton turned the war into their favor. Since then, the Continental Army had won decisive victories such as the one at Saratoga, resulting in the surrender of British general John Burgoyne. However, the levity wouldn't last long as the Revolutionary army had suffered a string of defeats that included Brandywine and Germantown, resulting in their arrival in this godforsaken place. Glancing behind him, Thomas noted that the troops looked forlorn and exhausted. He couldn't blame as their morale had plummeted like a rock due to their recent setbacks. What's more? Washington's forces had their numbers decimated due to disease and hunger.

Washington turned to address his chief strategist. "This is a dreary kind of place, not to mention uncomfortably provided, however, this place is strategically vital to our forces. We can keep close to Pennsylvania towns while maintaining access to firewood and water. This will be the ideal place to rest and regroup. "

"Point taken, sir." Thomas nodded as they made their way to the base of the hill before entering the white valley. It was almost daybreak and the last stars were dissipating as violent tinge was infecting the horizon. Surveying the Revolutionary forces, Thomas noted that not all of the thousand soldiers that wanted to take refuge were white. There were a handful of black and Native American Continental soldiers. The wives and children of the officers only served to further bulk up the force.

I wouldn't recommend bringing women and children in an arduous journey and exposing them to the ugly sight of war, but who am I to deny them the sight of the families they hadn't seen for years?

As they approached the snow-covered cabins long abandoned by their occupants, Thomas thoughts wandered to how long he had come in this grueling war. Even though it was a year ago when he had been reunited with the rest of his Revolutionaries, Thomas felt like it was yesterday since he had left his friends at the Museum behind. He felt a pang of guilt for abandoning them, but he had hoped they had understood what he had gone through and that he deserved a break. Twice he had been ripped apart from his home by outlanders from different realms and now he had wanted only to remain in his realm and fulfill his purpose to the rebellion.

"Washington's chief strategist, huh? Well, look where your policies had landed us."

Stopping his horse to a trot, Thomas glanced over at the speaker to see Major Winston Collins appear beside him. Collins, like several others belonged to the Conway Cabal, a group of officers that followed the belief that Washington should be replaced with a new commander. Thomas had no love for these men, but he couldn't risk offending them for the fear that they could desert at any given moment.

"I am sorry you place the blame solely on me, but mayhaps you can contribute to the gathering of logistics. Perhaps the mission can then yield better results." Seeing the officer's expression shift from irate to startled, Thomas decided to placate him. " Worry not, the arrival of the Marquis de Lafayette or Baron von Steuben should alleviate our forces."

Without glancing back to see what how the officer took the news, Thomas entered the cabin where the supreme commander of the Revolutionaries took refuge. Upon hearing the footsteps of his chief strategist on the wooden ground, General Washington turned to fix Thomas with a blank stare, but Thomas noted the concern in those gray eyes.

"We have quite a situation in our hands, wouldn't you say?"

Thomas could only nod. "Aye,we have indeed. What shall we do about it?"

General Washington folded his arms behind himself. "We are lacking in basic provisions and the number of our troops are dwindling due to desertions and disease. In order to remedy this issue, I am sending Major Nathaniel Greene and a small contingent of his men to secure those necessities for our forces. This should boost the morale of our troops, eh?"

A small smile formed upon Thomas's face. "I have no doubt that it will restore your men's faith in you once more. I am sure of it."

---

"Parrish, come over here for a second."

From where he stood at the window of Washington's current quarters, the time traveler turned around to comply with the wishes of his superior. Washington was seated at an ornate table, decorated with fancy doilies, alongside several of his subordinates. Also in attendance was the French Count de Rochambeau, the leader of the French forces that were assisting the Continental Army against their British oppressors. This was made possible by Ben Franklin's ardent convincing of the French monarchy to turn against the Brits by signing the Treaty of Alliance. The enemy of my enemy is my friend after all. As soon as Thomas took his seat beside his superior, Washington started to continue address him.

"We have come so far in this conflict and I am pleased to say that we are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel."

"So am I, General." Thomas's eyes scanned the other attendees, their faces devoid of expression. Despite his initial assessment of their faces, Thomas saw no sense of despair or hopelessness in their eyes. The year was 1781, the Articles of Confederation just recently ratified. Thomas was astounded to see that time had flown since he had abandoned the Museum. His hair had grown longer while his beard had taken a grayish tinge to it. His current goal of ending the British occupation of his country was coming to an end, but he still had yet to fulfill his primary objective. Once this war ends, he will write to or even sail to visit his wife and child back in his native England and fulfill his desire to reconcile with them.

"Good, now let's cut to the chase." Washington turned to address the other officers present. "Lord Charles Cornwallis's forces have regrouped at Yorktown after taking territory in the Carolinas. In the next coming weeks, our forces will siege the city like a tightening noose to cut off their supply line. Once they have their persistence strangled out of them, Yorktown will be ours for the taking."

The officers murmured amongst themselves as they absorbed the news. This was a welcome atmosphere after a few minor setbacks. They have lost some battles, but they wouldn't lose the war.

"Thomas, I have something I'd like you to see. Care to follow me?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Thomas rose from his seat and tipped his hat. "Why yes, I'd be honored to accompany you."

As the two men left the room, two guards dressed in the blue attire of the Patriots saluted them. Thomas was taken to the cellar which housed prisoners of war. Baffled as to why his presence was necessary, Thomas hurried alongside his commanding officer to learn why he was summoned. A couple minutes later, they appeared inside their dark and damp destination as two guards appeared before them. The musky smell reaching his nose, the time traveler could only hope they didn't spend much time here as he was anxious to steer clear of this disgusting place.

"Pardon me if I sound so straightforward, but may I ask why you require my presence in this dismal place?"

Washington cleared his throat. "We had captured several prisoners in the last few days. Mind you, they looked like they didn't belong in this civilized age. "

Thomas raised a brow. "How do you mean, sir?"

"You'll understand once I expose you to their presence. " Washington gave the order to the guards, who responded by leaving to fetch the prisoners. "They even asked for you upon their capture."

"Excuse me?" Thomas felt the gnawing feel of anxiety clawing through his chest. It couldn't be them, could it?

About a half a minute later, the guards brought forth the chained prisoners. Scrutinizing them closely, Thomas understood what Washington had meant. They were indeed dressed like they belonged in another time and place. Before long, his eyes lit up with recognition.

"Corpus bones! What are you guys doing here?"

Akh, his eyes looking forlorn, glanced up at his former comrade. "What does it look like? We came after you."

"Why would you do that after five years?" Thomas demanded, feeling fury rise up in his chest. How dare they come to prevent him from carrying out his duties for his country. They called themselves his friends?

"It wasn't even a couple hours after you left that Akh convinced us to pursue you." Starkad spoke up for the first time. He looked like he could take out two guards with his massive frame, but the musket pointed at his back dissuaded him from carrying out any kind of resistance. "Only Akh must have transported us to the wrong portion of your time."

"Hey, it's not like you done better than me!" The Pharaoh snapped. He turned his attention back to Thomas. "Besides, we aren't the only ones to come after you."

"There are more?" Thomas frowned as he stroked his beard.

"They are known as Chan, Brianna, Wheeler, and Gonzales." Thomas turned his attention to Lanre, who was still in his conquistador attire.

"Pardon?" Thomas turned to General Washington. "You didn't tell me there were four others involved."

"I wager you know them as well?" Washington pointed to the other end of the cells, Thomas's eyes followed the man's finger and landed on a few individuals who were dressed in red and black combat gear. "My scouts reported them to be British spies."

"By the grace of God, why didn't you tell me Kenneth's agents accompanied you on this fruitless trip?" Thomas addressed his friends. "Did he send you to recapture me? Is that it? You all succumbed to that son of a dog's wish?"

"Have you lost your marbles, Tommy boy?" The voice belonged to Paul, distinguishable by his forest green uniform. "We came of our own accord to retrieve you. Who knows how much you could have fucked up your period? Besides, who will I have to annoy when I am bored?"

Thomas rolled his eyes. "You guys are incomprehensible. I'll deal with you all accordingly once we finish the siege of Yorktown."

"Zhe shiege of vhat?" Kepler looked baffled.

"I'm finished with them for now." Thomas waved at the guards to take them away.

"You have made quite some friends. " Washington chuckled. "Care to share the story with me?"

"It is quite a long one." Thomas smiled. "Perhaps another day. Just don't forget the wine and cheese."

---

Today is the day that this war will end. Abigail and Henry, I will not be denied my chance to see you once more.

Thomas was perched on a horse on top of the hill overlooking the city of Yorktown as mild sunlight engulfed the vicinity. There were only a few clouds dotting the sky as the Patriots and their French allies surrounded the town like a wrinkled noose. If they could only manage to maintain a brief chokehold here, the British will likely see further resistance is futile. Scanning the battlefield, Thomas noted that French and American flags were flying all around him as the French and Patriot forces readied their artillery and held their positions. The French had taken up positions on the left side of the town while the Americans occupied the right, which was considered the position of honor. Ever since Benedict Arnold had defected to the British side of the war, the British had dominated the rebels in the field of espionage until Washington was able to convince Benjamin Tallmadge and Abraham Woodhull to form the Culper spy ring. As much as Thomas reviled admitting it, the Culper spy ring was a more formidable force than his own, resulting in the two groups to collaborate.

"Oi! The redcoats are assembling their forces!"

Upon closer inspection upon the town's exterior, Thomas noticed a large force of redcoats, numbering in the thousands, appear, bearing the British flag. The strategist was sure that their numbers were bulked up by the Hessian mercenaries scattered about. Perhaps this siege wouldn't go as smoothly as he had anticipated.

"We are being flanked!"

Startled by the outburst, Thomas whirled around to see that the speaker was correct. All around them, a British force had set up positions as if to box them in a trap. In that exact moment, massive clouds had blocked out the sun as if to punctuate the gloomy atmosphere. Before anyone could utter a single word, the sounds of muskets going off were heard. Amid the uproar, chaos then ensued.

"Har!"

Thomas urged his steed toward the British lines as he charged alongside many other Revolutionaries, raising his saber to cut down any redcoats he had come across. The booming of the cannons from all around the battlefield was deafening, nearly causing the time traveler to lose his concentration. Fortunately, he regained his focus in time to parry a blow from a British soldier on horseback. The two sparred for about a half a minute before Thomas was able to unhorse him and move on to other enemies. Evading musket shots, Thomas was able to cut down several British troopers, one before he could fire his weapon.

How long must we dig in? I had assumed that we would be evenly matched with the lobsterbacks.

A blast from a nearby cannon, Thomas wasn't clear which side had fired it, spooked his horse and inspired it to rear up and unhorse its rider. The breath nearly knocked out go him, the rebel fighter landed in the blood-stained dirt, his gaze landing on the dark and heavy storm clouds in the sky above. A flash of lightning lit up the area before the deep rumbling of thunder was heard. At least that was what Thomas assumed it was because for all he knew, the cannons could have been blasting at that time. Crawling over the corpses of the dead from both sides, some of them people he personally knew, Thomas tried to get to safety.

I need to move out of the throng and find a clearing lest I get picked off like a fly.

A shadow fell over as two Hessian mercenaries pointed their bayonets at him.

"On your feet or ve'll shpear you like fish!" The one with the black mustache ordered him. His accent vaguely reminded Thomas of Kepler, causing the Revolutionary to experience a hollow feeling inside his chest.

No, I must not think these thoughts, especially now of all times.

The Hessian prodded him with the bayonet. " Are you deaf? I shaid up!"

In response, Thomas lunged at the mercenary, cutting his throat with his red-rusted sabre. His companion retaliated by striking Thomas at his side. Due to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Thomas felt only a dull sting, but later on, the full extent of his damages would take over.

This man is a worthy opponent, but without his comrade, he is nothing .

Thomas dueled with the Hessian until he disarmed the lad. Seeing his chance, Thomas's used his free hand to level his musket and shoot a ball into the body of the German mercenary, resulting in a crumpled and bloody body on the wet ground.

"Who is next?"

The colonist turned around, searching for any more potential targets. Heeding his call, a British officer, flanked by a few of his guards, approached the strategist.

"Your arrogance will be your undoing, you traitorous swine!" The officer drew his sabre. "I will bear the honor of that deed."

"Care to find out?" Thomas traded blows with the British officer. He had to admit, the soldier was adept with a sabre, but Thomas had the upper hand now. Before the time traveler could capitalize on an opening, a British cannon exploded nearby, disorienting him. The officer, seeing the advantage presented to him, knocked Thomas to the ground and stood over him, sabre raised.

"Well, you got a tad too cocky there, eh?" The man chuckled. "I must admit, you put up quite a fight and gave me a hassle, but now it ends."

"Who might I have the honor of dueling?"

A nasty smirk played upon the officer's lips. "The name is Major Edwin Hayes. My face is the last you will see as you exit this world, rebel."

Rain drops started to plop onto the fallen strategist's face as if the sky was weeping for him.

It is as Patrick Henry had once said, 'Give me Liberty or give me death.' It seems that I will be receiving the latter.

Before his foe could bring down his weapon, a sword erupted from his chest. As the startled officer fell to his knees, Thomas was able to get a view of his savior.

"Lanre, how did you break free from the cellar?"

The Templar pulled up the wounded colonist and yanked him toward the dark forest before he responded to his query.

"One of our companions was able to overcome our guards and we assisted them in escaping the prison."

"I can't fathom the idea that you would join forces with Kenneth's goons so you could come seek me out, but I will let that slide." His eyes then landed on their adversaries. "I hope you came prepared to take on some British troops."

Lanre just chuckled. "Oh, we contemplated that we would come across you while you were engaging your foes. However, you realize they are your foes and not ours."

As the British troops turned their muskets on the duo, a smattering amount of gunfire downed them. Thomas was awestruck to spot Paul standing in the open field amidst the rain and blood staining the grass. The moment one of the nearby cannon's drew their muskets to face the newcomer, sniper shots forced them onto the dirt.

"Dear God," Thomas murmured. "It truly is miraculous to know that my friends would risk their lives to partake in this struggle.I am indebted to you already."

"Is that what you think we are doing?" Lanre shook his head. "No, we are merely risking our arses to extract you from this period and take you back to the Museum."

"What?!" Thomas was livid. "You dare prevent me from fighting for what I believe in? I came so far in this conflict so I can see me family again. I will not be denied!"

Paul hustled over to the duo. " Follow me! Double time if you must. Viktor is sniping anyone who comes close to our position, but I am not sure how much longer he can buy us time. Besides, I never seen Paul Revere attempt his famous ride."

"For one, you are five years too late. Secondly, it wasn't Revere who warned us about the British. Rather, it was Samuel Prescott. Now if you aren't intending to assist me in this war, then leave at once!"

"Not without you, Tommy boy." Paul aided Lanre in dragging their battle-hungry comrade away from the skirmish. "We will break your legs if we must return you to your place, which is back at the Museum with us."

As the entered the tree line of the forest, Thomas noticed Viktor, his olive-green cloak wrapped around himself, crouch on a nearby hill and take potshots at the enemy. Gunpowder then exploded in a chain reaction, distracting the combatants temporarily.

"I can zee vhy you returned." Viktor smiled mischievously at Thomas. " Zhe Zhrill of Var eez a heck of a drug."

"Release me this instant!" Thomas struggled against the men's hold. "I have my wife and child to see."

"Some other time." Paul tried to placate him. "We are past due in returning you. You have been gone for so long that Kenneth is going to figure out something is amiss. We can't have you ruining this for others."

Thomas saw the blinking lights of the time machine ahead as they regrouped with the rest fo the squad. In addition to Akh, Chenggong, Starkad, and the others, the Revolutionary spotted the four prisoners from the other day.

"I knew it!" Thomas snarled. "You are merely working as pawns for Kenneth! The presence of his lap dogs is all the proof I need."

Paul approached the broad-shouldered one with tattoos littering his body. "The extraction was successful,Wheeler. Only he is reluctant to come aboard."

Wheeler just cackled. "That won't be a problem." The agent drew a device and flicked a switch on it. Purple light shone out of the vibrating device as he struck Thomas with it.

I can't go now. Washington and the troops need me!

Blackness then overtook the colonist's vision. 

Spot 6: RondaRayl

Astrid, Jackson, Catalina, Richard, Alan, Marcus, and Norman were happy to be back in the Museum. They all took showers, got something to eat, and slept a long time. They got their health back after losing Thomas in Roanoke.

Catalina was emotionally drained. She was weak from exhaustion because she missed Thomas so much.

Alan and Norman was sitting around playing chess. So far, they were both equally matched.

Richard, Marcus and Astrid all talked and trained together. Jackson wasn't with them, which was different. He started missing his lover, so he got on the computer and researched her. He found out that she had an illegitimate child that was half black. Jackson knew that chances were, it was his child. It caused her to be disgraced and disowned.

Jackson started crying and then he got anger. Out of pure emotion, he ran into the time machine and started it up. By watching Norman and Alan, he learned how to start the machine.

The six others saw him running and was trying to figure out what was going on. When they saw him running into the time machine they knew they had a problem. They all got up and ran toward him to try to stop him, but Jackson had already left.

So they got permission from Kenneth to take one of his other time machines. Richard knew from previous training with Jackson that he was from Trenton, New Jersey. Norman found out from the computer log that Jackson's time machine had gone back to 1776. So he logged the date into their time machine and started it up.

***

Astrid, Catalina, Richard, Alan, Marcus, and Norman all ran out of their time machine and saw Jackson just standing there gazing in wonder because the land as he knew it had changed. The time machines had landed near a bridge by the Delaware River.

It was night out, which made it very dark. The ground beneath them was swampy and muddy from rain that poured in from the Northeast. The wind was blowing hard and there was hail coming down hard. Temperatures were freezing so the Delaware River was frozen over.

The group shivered and were wet and cold and mad at Jackson for taking him here.

"What were you thinking, Jackson?" Alan said. He grabbed Jackson by his shirt collar and shook him.

"I think I have a son who's here and I have to help him and his mother."

Alan and the others were shocked. Before anyone could say anything else, the Continental Army was walking toward them, getting ready to cross the Delaware River.

Alan pulled Jackson behind a tree and said, "Everyone hide!" They all hid in fear.

***

A spy that was in the Continental Army came back to his British commander and said, "Sir, the Continental Army is on the move."

The British Commander said, "Not in this weather. They won't do that." So they ignored the warning.

Low and behold, the Continental Army was already crossing the Delaware River to attack the British Army at Trenton.

***

Jackson took off running before the others could stop him.

"Jackson!" Catalina yelled. "Slow down! Let us help you!"

He just ran and ran and ignored her. Alan said, "Great. Now what?"

Astrid said, "Richard, Marcus come with me to go after him. The rest of you stay here." Richard and Marcus agreed and they took off running after Jackson.

***

George Washington crossed the Delaware River to attacked the British.

Richard, Marcus, and Astrid finally caught up with Jackson at the outskirts of the city. Jackson said, "I have to find my wife and child."

Richard said, "How are we going to do that with the battle here?"

George Washington and the Continental Army prepared their canons and their rifles. They fired off a couple rounds of the canon. The British were unaware and taken by surprise, which made them slow to respond.

A soldier came running out with his rifle and a bayonet pointed toward Richard. Richard ducked and said, "I'm on your side!"

"You don't look like you're from around here," the soldier said.

Richard said, "I'm not, but I'm with a friend. We'll help you fight."

The soldier nodded and said, "I'll let my commander know."

Richard and Marcus joined the fight with the Continentals against the British.

Meanwhile, Astrid and Jackson snuck around all the fighting to the city of Trenton.

***

As Astrid and Jackson came into town, he turned and saw his lover, Mary, with the child. She was helping the wounded by laying them out in the yard of her house. As she turned, a cannon went off and killed her and the child.

Jackson screamed and started running toward her with Astrid following behind. The explosion caused her house to collapse and many of the wounded had been killed with her. Jackson dug around in the rubble until he found her body.

He held her close and cried. Astrid said, "We need to get out of here." Astrid grabbed him by the shoulder. "Come, we have to go."

Jackson brushed her off and screamed. "I can't leave her!"

Astrid said, "You have to! Come on!" She grabbed him again and this time, she yanked him up. Hesitantly, he went with her.

***

The Continental Army had won the battle. Marcus and Richard showed up at both time machines with Alan, Norman, and Catalina. By the that time, Astrid and Jackson showed up. Jackson was a mess, crying, blood all over his shirt, and tears coming down his cheek.

None of them asked what had happened because deep inside, they all knew.

Jackson and Astrid got into Jackson's time machine and the others all got into the other one. They all returned to the Museum. 

Spot 9: Several7s

Rebeckah drifted in and out of consciousness, never fully understanding what was going on around her. She heard things, like when someone from her group said she was dying, but it never registered. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew her fever was too high. Combined with the injuries from Columbus's attack, and her chances of survival were low. Still, she held on as best she could, fighting to stay alive.

Slowly, she recovered. More and more, she had lucid moments, and in those moments, she gradually noticed a decrease in the number of people visiting from her group, until she stopped seeing them altogether. After the past months together, their group had grown closer. They wouldn't have just abandoned her. Even in her weakened state, she understood what their absence meant. Something was wrong.

Weeks passed, and she finally recovered enough to find what was left of her group. Only two people remained- Eirik and his sister Jeanna. Both lay on mats in another hospital-type tent, deathly pale. Rebeckah knelt beside Eirik and placed a hand against his brow. It confirmed her suspicions- he was burning up. A quick test on Jeanna proved that the same was true for her.

Rebeckah slipped her hand into Eirik's. "You're going to be okay."

He stirred and gripped her hand, looking up at her with bloodshot eyes. "The others..." He coughed, spitting up blood.

"What about them?" She dreaded his response, already sensing it was bad news.

"Columbus... killed them... all."

Coughs wracked his body, and he covered his mouth with the animal furs that he'd been given. They came away wet with blood, and Rebeckah could see more dried onto the fur. Things didn't look good for him or Jeanna, who appeared to be sleeping. They were too thin from the sickness. More than that, she saw a look in Eirik's eyes. Defeat. He knew what was coming. The sickness would take him and his sister.

More loss. Rebeckah swallowed back the pain and forced a smile. "Everything will be alright. You'll get help, and you and Jeanne will recover. I promise." It was a lie, and they both knew it, but he nodded anyway, and relaxed back onto his mat, releasing her hand.

Jeanne was the first to succumb to the sickness. She spent a week unable to keep her food down, and by the end of it, she was too weak to move. Shortly after, she died. After that, Eirik truly gave up. Not two days later, he died too, leaving Rebeckah alone.

The funeral was harder than she had thought it would be. Even with years of practice hiding her feelings behind a smile, she couldn't help the tears that cascaded down her face. Kneeling beside Jeanne's grave, Rebeckah placed a single flower by the little wooden cross.

"I'll miss you both."

Another tear dripped down her face. She didn't wipe it away. It felt good to mourn. Being a nurse during a war didn't give that luxury. If a patient died, you moved on to the next one. There wasn't time to mourn. But these were her friends. She couldn't bring herself to let it go easily and didn't want to. The sorrow hit her like a ton of bricks, and she let it, embracing the hurt.

She spent weeks wandering the camp in a dark cloud of grief, alternating between blaming herself and Columbus for bringing this upon her group. In the end, it didn't make a difference. When the grief subsided a little, loneliness quickly took its place, constantly reminding her that she was trapped in a strange place, alone. It was like this that Manfred and his group found and rescued her, taking her back to the museum.

***

"She was the only survivor?" Naoki glanced in the direction of Rebeckah, who sat alone by the stairs in the basement. "Has she said anything?"

Manfred shook his head. "The only thing she told me was that everyone else in her group died."

Naoki couldn't imagine how that must feel. He still felt the effects of losing Suki and Michel, but he still had Khen and Akiko, not to mention the rest of their group. Rebeckah didn't have that. She'd lost every friend she made within her group.

"She can join my group." He rubbed his temples. "We have room."

"Fine." Manfred looked back at where Rebeckah had been sitting, but she'd vanished. "I guess you'll have to find her first."

***

Rebeckah crept into the nearest time machine and gently pulled the door closed behind her. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought about Eirik, Jeanne, and the rest of her team. They deserved more than she had been able to give. If only she had learned more about medicine, she might have found some way to save them. The pain only grew within her the more she thought about it, until she couldn't help but blame herself for everything.

Her hands flew to the controls on the machine, searching for the only person who might make her feel okay again. Through a blur of tears, she set the controls to take her to 1780 A.D., back to the hour after Kenneth's men took her. Then she slid to the floor and curled up into a tight ball through the trip, sobs wracking her body.

I should have died, not them. Not my only friends in all of this. There must have been something she could've done differently. Some way she could have nursed them back to health. When the time machine landed, she stumbled outside and ran to the house, where she found Ezra waiting for her.

Seeing him again for the first time after three months without him sent mixed emotions flowing through her, but she threw those aside and wrapped her arms around him. She took in his scent and laid her head on his shoulder. Now, more than before, she couldn't stop crying.

"Beckah, what's wrong?" Ezra cupped her chin with his hand and tilted her head up to look her in the eyes. He wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb and kissed her gently. "Don't cry, please. Tell me what happened."

She almost told him everything, but it wouldn't have gone well. Instead, she lied, telling him that it had been a difficult month in the army, and that she had lost good friends. He did what no one else could have then, just by sitting her down and helping her to deal with the hurt.

"I should have been able to save them." A lump rose in her throat and she blinked back more tears.

"Don't torture yourself, Beckah. None of this is your fault. This war... it's cruel to all who are involved. You did everything you could have, and that's what matters."

He pulled her into a strong embrace and she melted against him, laying her head against his chest. He stroked her hair lovingly as she cried. She fell asleep there in his arms, clinging to him as if he were the last anchor holding her to Earth.

***

Khen had watched Rebeckah sneak onto the time machine. Somehow, Khen knew something wasn't right about it, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. Whatever Rebeckah was doing, she must have a good reason. Still, Khen's heart went out to the woman, who seemed to be walking around in a daze, tears streaking her face.

When she was sure Rebeckah wasn't paying attention, Khen slipped onto the machine and hid. She wasn't exactly backup, but at least if she found out where Rebeckah went, she could send the information back to the others in case something went wrong.

Unfortunately, Khen didn't get the chance. When she wandered out of the time machine to look at her surroundings, she found a road. Next to it stood a motionless wagon, along with several horses and at least a dozen young women. All of them looked well-fed and content, so Khen thought she might ask for information about the time in which Rebeckah had stopped.

This didn't turn out as planned, however, because one of the women— a tall woman with dramatic makeup and scandalous clothing— stopped Khen.

"What do you think you're doing?" The woman grabbed Khen's face, turning it to the left and right. "The natural look is impressive, I must say, but you'll need a whole lot of makeup and much more... enticing clothes. You're exotic, but not so much that wearing that will get you any business."

Khen pulled away, taken aback. Once, she might have just allowed the woman to do whatever she wanted, but Naoki had taught her a lot in their year together. For the first time in her life, she felt she had just enough power over her own life to be her own person, instead of everyone else's slave.

"I do not understand." She stared down at her outfit, and realized she still wore the native's clothing, made of animal skins and feathers. Considering the women surrounding her, she must look out of place.

"Just trust me, honey. You're new to this, but I'll have you reeling in coin in no time, don't you worry." The woman smiled and held out a hand. "The name's Grace."

Khen accepted the handshake with some hesitation. "Um... I am Khen."

Grace nodded. "We'll have to fix that too. Men want something... prettier. You'll go by Dalilah from now on, got it?"

"I..." Khen glanced around uncomfortably. "I am not sure that you..."

"Nonsense, sweetheart. Girls only stop by my wagon for one reason, and don't worry. I'm exactly what you need right now." Grace took Khen by the arm. "Let's see what we can find in the wagon for you to wear, shall we?"

***

"Guys, one of the machines is gone." A dark-skinned man appeared in front of Naoki. He thought the man's name might be Richard. "I don't know where."

Akiko tugged on Naoki's shirt. "Mommy left."

Naoki frowned. "Left where?"

"She followed Rebeckah into the machine." Akiko pointed toward the room where the machines were kept.

Panic crept into Naoki's mind. Khen was out in the timeline somewhere, unprotected and quite possibly alone. Rebeckah wasn't in any state to take care of Khen, and even if Khen knew something about defending herself now, she was still weak after spending weeks bedridden. Worst case scenarios played out in his imagination, taunting him the thought of losing her.

"We have to find them." Naoki grabbed the tablet and ran to get the others. Akiko and Richard followed. Before long, the group had several tablets, and everyone started scrolling down through detailed historical records of different times.

"Wait." Mary started typing something on the tablet she'd been searching. "Naoki, where was Rebeckah from?"

Naoki's mouth opened as he realized what she was getting at. "She's from America, 1780 A.D.," Richard put in. "She told me once."

"If I just lost all of my friends, I would head home." Tia stood. "I say we check it out."

Mary gasped. "Naoki..." She handed Naoki the tablet and pointed to a line of writing. "We need to get to Khen before this happens."

He read the information and froze, his eyes glued to the screen. It took a moment for him to process what he was reading. When he recovered from his shock, he dropped the tablet and stood. "Alright, everyone. Let's go."

***

Khen stared at the woman before her in the mirror. It wasn't her. What Grace had done while fixing Khen's appearance had changed it so drastically that she barely recognized herself. Half of her raven hair had been tied back with red ribbons and fastened into an intricate braid that tumbled over her shoulder. While her hair had once been straight, several hours of intense work had turned it bouncy curls. Her dress matched the color of the ribbons in her hair and was decorated with black lace. A slit ran up the side of the dress, stopping only about eight inches from the top of her fishnet stockings. The neckline dipped far lower than was appropriate, making Khen feel uncomfortable. She tugged at the lace lining the top, trying to hide her cleavage, but Grace stopped her.

"You aren't supposed to hide it, hon." She placed her hands on her hips and threw her shoulders back. "In this business, you have to learn to put yourself out there."

Khen didn't reply to that. She still hadn't figured out what Grace was pulling her into, and something told her she wouldn't like it when she did. I hope you are coming, Naoki, because I might be in trouble here.

When the wagon the women had been riding in finally stopped, Khen stepped out to find that they had stopped at an army camp. People rushed in every direction, shouting orders and yelling at each other. As they became aware of the women who stood amongst them, nearly everyone stopped in their tracks. For what felt like hours, Khen felt the men eyeing her, eyes shining with lust.

"Let me talk to the generals here, girls. Stay out of trouble." Grace pointed at Khen. "Dalilah, come. You should learn how this works."

It took a moment for Khen to realize Grace was talking to her. She hurried to catch up as Grace sauntered off through the camp. Men practically fell over themselves trying to get near the women, but several of the men with the wagon kept the soldiers at bay, barking at them to lay off until Grace returned.

The commander was tall and muscular. He wore a long blue coat, buttoned up, and a thin frown. "Madam Grace."

"General Washington, it is a pleasure to see you again." Grace's voice practically dripped with honey, and her smile was radiant.

"I know why you are here, and I cannot allow you to do business with my men." Washington crossed his arms. "It would risk the spread of disease, which this army cannot afford right now."

Grace cocked her head and took a small step forward. Reaching out, she traced a finger down the buttons of Washington's jacket. "Are you sure I couldn't... change your mind?" She stared up at him with wide blue eyes. "The men here seem so bored. Surely, you could allow us to boost their morale?"

Another man approached. "General, could we not make an exception this time. You know Madam Grace and her girls will not hurt the army. The men could use some entertainment."

"They may not intend to, Lieutenant Colonel, but disease will spread with or without good intentions."

Grace immediately turned her attention to the Lieutenant Colonel, her smile widening. "Lieutenant Colonel Meade. It is good to see you again. Last time was exhilarating."

Khen stared at the ground, finally putting together the pieces. Grace was running a business for girls to sell themselves to these men. Fear snaked down her spine. Why would anyone choose that life? How could Grace rope young, innocent girls into this? For that matter, what was Khen even doing with Grace. After seeing her outfit, Khen knew now she should have left. What if they didn't give her a choice? What if she was forced to sell herself?

Washington reached out and plucked Grace's hand away from Meade. "Madam, I would have you take your girls and leave, but... I suppose they could use a boost in morale. You have three days, and then you must take your business elsewhere, understand?"

Grace nodded. "Of course, General. My girls will be in and out before you know it." She turned to go, and Khen started to follow, but Washington stopped them.

"Madam, who is the girl with you?" He gestured to Khen, who froze.

"Her name is Dalilah, General. She joined me today."

Washington pursed his lips, and Khen recognized the disapproval there. Old habits almost sent her running for cover, but she stood her ground as he looked her over.

"She's terrified." Washington took a step toward Khen, who stepped back.

"The job is new to her," Grace explained. "She will adjust."

With a sigh, the General turned. "Leave me, Madam Grace. And tell your girls to be gentle with the men. I'll not have them complaining of soreness in the morning."

***

When the group piled out of the time machine, they found themselves right next to the one Rebeckah had taken. "Looks like we got the location and timing right after all." Mary breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's find the others and get out of here before anything goes wrong."

Her words acted almost like a prediction, because almost immediately after she spoke, Richard flickered out of existence. Akiko screamed and hid behind Naoki, who reached out, waving his hand through the spot where Richard had been.

Akiko poked her head out from behind Naoki's legs. "Daddy, where did he go?"

No one answered her. Everyone was at a loss for words. Their moment of confusion was interrupted when Rebeckah emerged from her house, followed by a man Mary didn't recognize.

"No!" Rebeckah yelled across the field. "Go back without me, I'm not leaving here again!"

Naoki was the first to come out of his shock. "We won't force you, but we need to find Khen. If we don't do something, she might kill someone important."

The group reached Rebeckah, who started at them, confused. "I don't understand. I came here alone."

"Mommy followed you. She told me to stay put." Akiko kicked at the dirt, a sheepish look on her face. "I told Daddy anyway."

Naoki smiled down at her. "You did the right thing." Meeting Rebeckah's gaze, he held out the tablet with the information about Khen on it. "Please, we need to find the Continental Army. You don't have to come back with us, but... she's in trouble."

Mary watched Rebeckah, noting the expression of sympathy on her face. She would help. That was good. Without Richard, none of them knew the slightest about where they were and what they were doing.

The man standing next to Rebeckah spoke up then. "I can take you to the army. I came from there. It is only a day's ride. They would not have moved yet."

"We would be grateful for the help." Mary smiled at the man. "Thank you."

"I'm going with you. I may be able to help," Rebeckah said.

"No." The man with her shook his head. "You came back to me in tears, Beckah, and you still won't explain it. I will help your friends, but you must stay here, where you will be safe."

"It is not your choice, Ezra." Rebeckah slipped her hand into his and smiled up at him. "These people will keep me safe, and if their information is to be believed, we have little time to argue about it."

Ezra's shoulders slumped. "I do not wish to see you cry like that again. It has barely been a day, and you are not the same as you were when I last saw you. If something were to happen..." His words trailed off, and Rebeckah stood on her toes to kiss him.

"What I will see now cannot be worse than what I lost. I will be alright."

"I will get the horses, then."

***

Rain fell in sheets as the group rode the paths to the army. Ezra led them through woods and grassy plains, almost never taking any kind of road. When Naoki asked Rebeckah about it, she explained that Ezra was a spy for the Continental Army and would have been used to avoiding roads.

Naoki held Akiko close to him, hoping to keep her warmer with his body heat. She shivered in his arms, teeth chattering. As darkness crept across the sky, temperatures dropped further still. The rain soaked through Naoki's clothing and chilled him to the bone, until he was sure his body heat would do nothing for Akiko.

When the rain ceased, and morning dawned, relief washed over the group of weary travelers. It was still hours before they reached their destination, but the warmth of the sun's rays warmed them on their trip and dried out their clothing. Akiko stopped shivering and sat forward to admire the countryside. She stared at everything with wonder until they reached their destination and the group could finally rest.

While the others relaxed by the fire and finished drying out, Naoki wandered through the camp, searching for Khen. Fear for her swept through him. According to the records Mary had found, Khen ended up with in a brothel and would accidentally kill one of the Lieutenant Colonels in the army while trying to fend off his advances. This would get her imprisoned, which led to her execution. Just thinking about it sent pangs of grief through Naoki. I won't let it happen. He still had time if he could just find her before night fell.

The camp proved larger than expected, leaving Naoki to wander around calling her name and hoping for a response. To his relief, he heard one after what felt like several hours of yelling. She ran out of a nearby tent and jumped into his arms.

"I am so glad you found me," she gasped. "I had to hide so the men would not find me last night."

"Khen, why are you here?" Naoki still didn't understand why she had joined a brothel in the first place. Of all the people in their group that might do that, she was the last person he would have expected it from. "Why did you join these people?"

"I found this group of travelers on the road. This woman just started talking and before I could stop her, she had me all dressed up and everything." Khen stepped back and gestured to her outfit. "This was the most modest thing I could get her to let me wear!"

As Naoki took in her outfit, he frowned. She looked amazing, and all the surrounding men knew it. The thought of so many strange men looking at her with such yearning in their eyes sent rage boiling through him. He handed her a blanket that a soldier had given him when he arrived. "Cover yourself with that, and we can get out of here."

She took the blanket with a smile and wrapped it around her shoulders. Naoki heard a soldier groan nearby and shot the man a death glare that clearly told him to back off. The soldier did so, and the rest of the men nearby went back to their duties.

***

While Naoki was off looking for Khen, someone else in the group ran into trouble. Mary, who had also been searching for Khen, ran into General Washington. The man gave her a disapproving stare, which she returned.

"Your clothing is not appropriate for a nurse," Washington snapped. "And you ought not be wandering about the camp unaccompanied."

Mary scowled. Not for the first time, she missed being a queen. Despite the responsibility, at least people respected her. Few would have dared address her like this in Scotland or in France. Perhaps it was because she hadn't slept in a day, or because she was still irritable after her time stranded in Jamestown, but regardless of the reason, Mary came back at him with a fury. "I am not a nurse, and I will not dress like one. Furthermore, you should have some respect! I am not someone you want to mess with."

He glared at her, cheeks reddening. "You test my patience, woman. If you are not a nurse, then what are you doing in my camp?"

That gave Mary pause. She searched for an answer that made sense but came up with none. "I..."

Washington raised a brow. "Well?"

"I'm... I'm with the brothel!" Immediately, she regretted saying it. And after I demanded their respect, too. She was a fool.

Still, it worked. At the word brothel, Washington let out a huff of annoyance and stalked off to go bother someone else. Mary watched him leave and frowned. She hoped her outburst wouldn't bring further repercussions. Or, at least that they would find Khen and get out before that happened.

***

"Spies!"

A small group of soldiers surrounded Rebeckah and the others who were still resting by the fire. They pointed their muskets at the group and ordered them to stand. Within minutes, the confused group had been arrested, chained, and thrown into prison.

"Wait! We aren't spies!" Rebeckah tried to reason with them, but Tia stopped her.

"Recognize the leader?" Tia pointed. "That's one of Kenneth's men. Something must have stranded them here somehow. Either way, they know us, which means they know we have a time machine. If that's the case, they won't let us out. Not until we tell them where it is."

Rebeckah slumped against the wall of their cell, and Ezra pulled her into his arms. "It's okay, Beckah. I know the General. He'll listen to me, even if these men won't."

"You won't be getting an audience with the General." The leader of the group of soldiers pointed his musket at Tia. "And if you don't tell us where you've parked your time machine, I'll kill you off one by one."

Ezra's arms tightened around Rebeckah, who was suddenly thankful Naoki had explained everything to her husband. Explaining the time machine bit would have been difficult if they had waited until this moment.

Felipe moved in front of Tia, who immediately protested his protection. Kenneth's agents didn't seem to care either way. "Answer the question. Where did you leave the time machine?" He cocked his gun and curled his finger around the trigger.

"Don't protect me, Felipe." Tia tried, without success, to move Felipe out of harm's way. He didn't budge.

"We won't tell you anything," he declared. "And if you want your information, you can't kill all of us."

Kenneth's agent pulled the trigger. Tia screamed, and Rebeckah buried her face in Ezra's chest, refusing to look. She could hear the horror in Tia's voice as she cried, and it sent guilt racing through Rebeckah. Everywhere she went, the people who got close to her died. More and more, she was starting to believe she was cursed to live when everyone else was doomed to die.

When she finally looked up, the man was pointing his gun directly at Akiko, who sat in the corner crying. He would kill a child? How could he?

"It's a day's ride from here!" Ujarak yelled, stepping between the gun and Akiko. "Due north. Now leave us alone."

The leader of the group grinned. "Of course not. The army thinks you are spies. We need not hurt you. They'll get rid of you for us." He gestured to his men, and they left.

When Rebeckah pulled together the courage to look at Felipe's still form, she knew he was already gone. Tia sobbed over his body, tears mingling with blood as it soaked into the ground.

"We have to get out of here." Rebeckah tried to pull Tia away from Felipe, but she lashed out, throwing Rebeckah against the wall. She collapsed, gasping for air. "Tia... we can't... stay..."

Tia looked up at Rebeckah. "I will not leave him."

***

"Guys, the others have been taken prisoner." Mary stumbled across Naoki's path, out of breath and panicked. "Some of Kenneth's men showed up!"

"What?" Khen's eyes widened. "Akiko is with them! They will hurt her, Naoki, you know they will!"

Naoki clenched his jaw. Akiko had become like a daughter to him in a short amount of time. If Kenneth's men hurt her, he would not leave a single one of them alive. "Show me."

***

Originally, the group planned to overwhelm the guards when they came to remove Felipe's body, but that turned out to be unnecessary when Mary, Naoki, Khen, and General Washington showed up.

Washington gestured to the cell. "Release them."

The soldier nodded and opened the cell. Naoki rushed inside and scooped up Akiko, who was still crying. His eyes landed on Felipe's motionless form and his face twisted with fury. "How?"

"They shot him." Ujarak practically snarled at the soldier who had been guarding the door. He directed his glare at Washington. "And you let this happen."

"I was not made aware of your capture until Dalilah told me." Washington pointed at Khen as he said this. "My men acted without orders, and I apologize for that."

"Your men killed a good friend." Naoki walked out of the cell and set Akiko down. She ran to Khen, who wrapped the little girl in a tight embrace.

"We have to bury him properly." Tia looked up at Washington. "Please... if we don't, he will not be at peace."

Her words seemed to strike a chord with Washington, who gave his approval. Ujarak noted the increasing look of disbelief as Tia explained what had to be done, but Washington agreed to it all, and arrangements were made for it all.

***

Felipe's funeral started with a procession through the camp where several soldiers carried his body on a stretcher and the group followed it. A surprising number of soldiers joined in and the women from the brothel joined too.

Despite the growing ache in Tia's chest, she appreciated how everyone supported this. She knew by the look on Washington's face as she explained things that these people knew nothing of Roman funeral traditions and beliefs. Still, Felipe needed to be laid to rest, and if his spirit was to pass on, this was necessary.

As she walked through the camp behind his body, she imagined him in her arms again. But that would never happen. She would never feel his touch again. He would never kiss her again. Because of Kenneth's men.

The memory of him collapsing in front of her replayed in her mind, reminding her that this shouldn't have been Felipe. It should have been Tia on that stretcher.

When the procession stopped, the soldiers laid Felipe upon a funeral pyre and lit the flame. It danced up into the night and engulfing Felipe, burning until there was nothing left for it to burn. Everything that was left got put into an iron pot and closed. It wasn't a funerary urn, but it was as close as the army could get to one.

Tia watched the soldiers dig a hole to bury the pot in. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. Tears dripped down her face. We were supposed to go home together and get married. We were supposed to have two little girls.

Khen wrapped her arms around Tia, who buried her face in Khen's shoulder and let the tears come.

"I am sorry, Tia," Khen murmured. "None of this should have happened."

***

After eating, the group headed back to the time machines. When they made it all the way back, they found both machines exactly where they had left them. Ujarak smiled. Kenneth's men had taken Felipe's life, and for that, they would stay trapped in this time. If he had anything to say about it, they would never see their home again.

"Guys..." Rebeckah dismounted her horse and approached the group. "I want to go back with you."

Naoki frowned. "Your husband is here, Rebeckah. You should stay with him where you'll be happy."

"I... can't. Not yet. I do want to come back to this place, but not yet. I've seen what Kenneth's men did to the timeline. It's not just your job to fix it, and... you all must miss your homes too. I came here to find comfort, and I did. But I know now that I can't live with myself if I do not help to reverse the damage done." She looked at Ezra. "I will come back to you. I promise. It will be like I never left."

He pulled her into a kiss. "Be safe, Beckah. I cannot lose you."

She smiled at him and laced her fingers through his. "Always."

***

Richard never returned to them when they got back to the museum. Unbeknownst to them, Khen's presence within the brothel had caused a certain relative of his to choose a different woman than he would have. The effects of this cascaded down the timeline, wiping the man from existence.

They tried to explain what had happened to Richard's companions, but since they didn't know how, they told the group that Richard had disappeared, and they didn't know if he would come back.

Khen watched the group's reaction, guilt gathering like a storm within her. She knew all of this was her fault. Rebeckah had been fine on her own. She hadn't needed Khen to sneak aboard the time machine and go with her. If Khen had just stayed at the museum, Rebeckah would be with her husband, Richard would never have gone to that time and disappeared, and Felipe wouldn't have died.

She leaned back against the wall and pulled her knees up against her chest, resting her head on them. Naoki sat down across from her and she looked up at him.

"Are you okay?" He laid a hand over hers.

"No." Nothing was okay. "This is all my fault. I got... I got them killed."

"We do not know if Richard is dead or not." Naoki moved closer and pulled her into his arms. "And you are not to blame for what happened to Felipe. That is on the men that killed him."

"But I am the reason you guys went to that time." Her eyes filled with tears. "I am the reason he was there to get killed."

"You cannot blame yourself, Khen. We made the choice to get you. You did nothing wrong."

"People keep dying because of me." Khen laid her head on Naoki's chest, tears falling freely now. "What if... what if I get you killed? Or... Akiko? I can't... I can't lose anyone else."

"You will not get us killed, Khen. I can take care of myself, and Akiko has our entire group protecting her. She is safe." Naoki stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"I have lost one child already," Khen whispered. "You and Akiko... you are the only family I have."

"You lost a child?" Naoki's voice filled with sorrow. "Khen, I am so sorry."

She closed her eyes, wishing to shut out the memory. She should not have mentioned it, but... Naoki made her feel safe, and right now she needed to talk to someone.

"When Kenneth's men took me, I was pregnant." The memory of the horrible pain ripping through her stomach that day made her cringe. "Kenneth found out and had his men do scans. It was a little girl." A sob burst from her. "He... told them to kill it. That he could not... have a pregnant woman on the stand."

She cried on Naoki's shoulder until sleep overtook her and she drifted off into her dreams.

Spot 11: Shermanblook

'God, Carlson! You are how old now, and you still succumb to wickedness? No, no, don't swear on God's name. God, I won't lie to you, I'm sinner, I know, but are feelings also sins? I cannot control them.'

"Be angry and do not sin..." This was the quote that came to his mind. He was angry, and he had sinned. Angry at himself, and a sinner by product of human nature.

He considered himself guilty of two charges: Murder and love. Murder... that he would devour the flesh of a young girl out of desperation. If he could relive that moment--hell, he was stuck in that moment! No, no, don't say "hell."

Love. He didn't even know that it was possible to favor someone over his wife. He shuddered, disgusted with himself. Poor Mary, has her husband taken, and he gets the nerve to move on! Was it such a bad thing that he would move on? It wasn't like he could return to his home: "Hi Honey, been out for bit, aged a few years without you, you know, the usual. What happened? Well I couldn't tell you, you see, it's a secret."

It would follow him like a ghost, the secret, and he would avoid alcohol so that he would not tell everyone, and he would be coerced by his children to tell them, and false stories would fill the gap of his tongue, and... he knew that he was not the type of man who could keep a secret and not be haunted by it.

What tied him to that piece of history? His life was boring, and he would die extra-ordinarily in dreary Iowa. There were billions and billions of people in the past and present, so what did his family matter? He had shared true pain with a handful of now close comrades, met interesting characters, and--oh God, is that what 2 years does to a man? (No, no, do not use His name as a curse...) His wife was centuries, millenia away from his place in the museum, but 2 years away from him. What a long two years those were! He had heard one of the Maxes muttering about non-linear time, once. Perhaps this is what they were thinking of.

"With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day." His memory quoted this to him. Would God understand that feelings fade, get jolted out, eaten and buried? Or was time a worthless currency for a sinner like Carlson?

He forced himself to laugh. "You cannot bargain with God, Carlson, you're just embarrassing yourself."

"God?"

Carlson turned. So Hunaphu had wandered into his corner in the museum, and had heard him. "God is, well, God. You worshipped deities, correct?"

"Yes. Yum Kaax is ever present in my village."

"God holds a similar place. If I tried to explain Him to you, and someone else were to explain Him as well, we would likely contradict. Everyone interprets God differently."

Everyone has a different voice that tells them that they are a sinner.

"What does God do?"

"He has done things in the past. Now he hovers, I suppose. Makes us feel guilty when we are bad, and just as guilty when we are good. Maybe this is true only for me."

Hunaphu lay a hand on Carlson's shoulder. "My friend, guilt is not something that you can live in. If you feel guilty, then it would be best to do away with it."

"That is why we pray. To apologize. It helps a bi..." Carlson paused, realizing his error. "No, sorry Hunaphu, I'm wrong. We pray to express gratitude. You know, for a young man like you, you sure have some good words in that head of yours. I'm off to go do something."

Hunaphu grinned. "Something rash?"

"Something rash."

"Want a young man to help that old man brain of yours?"

Carlson protested, "I'm no old man, just... 47."

"Ancient."

"Is the word I would use to describe you, Mayan. Now, Hunaphu, this is something that I want to do on my own."

Hunaphu nodded understandingly. He walked with Carlson to the time machine room. "You know how to use that thing?"

"Sure I do. I've seen Barbara operate it several times." It was true that the last time he had paid attention to the time machine interface had been 2 years ago, but Barbara had used it easily her first time...

It was late, but the hallways were lit so that one would think it was day. Carlson entered the machine, and Hunaphu made himself scarce.

He did not know the coordinates of his time period, so he used the cursor to peruse the presets. He had managed to get it into the North America section after some time of fiddling with dropdown menus and discovering how the technology worked in general.

.Native Americans

.Greenland

.Canada

.United States

.Bermuda

.Mexico

The list was long, and he had already found his answer.

*United States

Enter. It divided into yet more sub-categories.

.Early US

.Western Expansion

.Notable Presidents

.Constitution

And so on. It occurred to Carlson that he did not know how large the US was in the 4000s. Would he be a part of an expansion? Compared to the 4000s he was quite "early." He selected that.

*Early US

His eyes jumped to the middle of the list, landing on an awful word. It left a slippery copper taste in his mouth.

.Jamest-

The time machine door opened. Dark, shadowed eyes looked critically at the screen. Barbara did not seem overly impressed. "Get some rest Carlson."

"I'm doing just fine. It is you who should be resting. How is your recovery going? Should you be up?"

"Hunaphu told me you might be doing something stupid. He also told me to keep my distance and see what happens, but clearly I'm not doing that. What's gotten into you? Early US?"

"I was aiming for Iowa 1860s, but I haven't checked all the presets yet."

"Presets are not specific enough, you would need to type in coordinates."

Carlson sighed, and leaned into the hard time machine chair. "I take it you won't be typing them in for me, will you."

"I will not." She sat next to him. "Why? Did you leave some food out?"

A joke, he realized. "Yes, and I would not like it to spoil. Maybe a president will visit my house and eat it and die. Wouldn't that affect the timeline."

They sat there silently for a while. The screen still displayed "Jamestown." Carlson idly moved the cursor as far away from the word as possible, and the little triangle hugged the corner of the display. "What would you have done there, in Iowa 1860s?" asked Barbara.

"Get closure, maybe. See off my wife and children. I wouldn't have spoken to them. Maybe I'd have provided them a note to tell them I left so that they would not search for me. They'd hate me, but it would allow them to move on. I would not want any of them to be plagued by the thought of someone who had simply vanished."

"That's what happened to Hunaphu's family."

"Hunaphu never did tell me that story. You were with him, so that is something that only you can know. I understand that he wanted to keep it private."

"Maybe he feels guilty. He got closure, though, and that has helped him to suffer through. He's a sturdy soul."

"Certainly. He's proved himself to be durable. I do wish he talked more. Man of few words, I suppose."

"He talks to me sometimes. Nothing drastic, just the 'how's your day going' kinda stuff. Visited me a few times while I lay in bed sick."

Carlson felt a pang in his heart. "Maybe he likes you."

"I couldn't say. He's not completely anti-social, is my point. I'd say Max is odder than him, and Shmuck odder still. Hunaphu has a different cultural background, sure, but as a personality he is not too unusual."

"Do you like him?"

"Maybe a bit." Barbara shrugged. "Well, I've never been in a relationship and he has been married, so I do not think that he would be all that happy with me, if I'm honest. I wouldn't know what to do. He's a real romantic when he wants to be. I know because I saw him smooth-talking his wife. He would be a great actor, ya know? Golly, I'd pay to see him costumed and on a stage."

Carlson had lived long enough to see the stars in her eyes, however hidden they were. It hurt him, but he maintained his composure. "If you would like, I could give Hunaphu a talking to. I wouldn't tell him what you told me, but I could send him your way. Just so that you can learn more about him, I suppose."

"Aw, that's a sweet offer. Could you? Well, no need to be sneaky about it. I'll talk to him myself, but thank you for the offer, Carlson." She gave him a tight hug, invoking mixed emotions from him, and stood. "I think the both of us should get some sleep. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah," he responded weakly.

And the two egressed the scene of the midnight time machine.

.

Maurice had somehow found her way to Shmuck's room. She stood in front of the door, hesitating to enter. Was he busy, perhaps? Would he take offence to her intrusion? She was there for no reason other than to search for clarity between the two of them. Oh gosh, it wasn't like he was a bomb that needed to be tread around lightly. She knocked.

Shuffling sounds came from behind the door. It opened, revealing a dreary-eyed Shmuck. His face brightened a bit when he saw her, and he opened the door wider as a clear invitation in. She entered.

"Need help sleeping?" He sat on the bed. He himself had clearly woken up, and he looked messy, boyish, and calm.

"No, I just want to ask a few things."

"Sure."

She saw that there were no chairs, and so sat on the carpeted floor. Shmuck moved to the floor was well, and leaned on the side of the bed.

"What do you want to ask?"

She felt her mouth hollow of words. Her lips tensed to the side. "Well, it's a bit..."

"Just say it, I won't lie." Shmuck raised a brow.

"Do you love me?"

He moved his head back. "Do I love you? Does a kiss mean nothing?"

"Well you never kissed me after that, so for all I know it was a cultural greeting of some sort."

"I haven't been kissing everyone I see, If you haven't noticed."

Maurice could feel the blush invading her face. She was glad that the room was dim so he would not see.

He continued. "I've avoided aggressively pursuing you because that's creepy, you know? Realize that I'm the same Max who met you from the beginning and had that lovely conversation about the nature of time. Maybe I'm a bit rough around the edges, but it's not like I've turned into some brutish demon. I was a little shaken after what happened, when you died in front of me, and it's made me rethink pretty much everything that I knew, but I'm getting over it. Are you asking this because you love me too?"

"Ah well, I haven't thought about that yet. Well, I mean, I've thought a lot about it, but I still couldn't say. Like, I don't know. I'd need to know you better."

"You can ask me anything, anything you like. What do you want to know?"

"Just.. tell me about you."

"I would have a lot to say."

"I have time."

Shmuck extended a lazy arm, palm up. Maurice gave him her hand, and he grasped it, pulling her closer to his body. He idly rubbed her palms while he spoke. "I am Max Shmuck of Vienna, Austria. I have played the trumpet for more than a decade, but that is not very much time for a musician. I've had a passion for music, but it has taken over my life, and this passion is beginning to fade. I realize that it is not very fulfilling for me to play for others."

"Then play for yourself."

"I am not educated well enough in music theory."

"Do you have to be to know what sounds good? I know I've been bookwormish, but I actually work at a music shop. The owner plays drums at guitar, and he just plays whatever he wants without music. And jazz, jazz! It was invented in the 1900s, so you would never have heard it before, but it is very expressive. It was a new genre birthed by Americans. There is also rock, and pieces with great lyrical- and there's variety, and there's soul! You wouldn't know it until you hear it. Well, back to jazz, it involves reading music and improvising. You would need to know some theory, but you could learn it."

"I will have to look into it later, if you really want me to. It is too late now for me to play trumpet. I haven't touched the thing in a probably a week or two, so my embouchure is really awful. I'm too tired anyway. Did you really have to come in at midnight?"

"It was bothering me."

"So you couldn't sleep after all."

Maurice laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right about that one. I don't like having confused feelings. I've always been timid about these types of things, but I feel like this museum ordeal has forced me to become more... mature, might be the word. Confident, maybe. Daring. Risk-taking. Talkative, even. I'm growing as a person, is the point."

Her eyes, now adjusted to the dimness, looked around his room. It was not tidy, but it was clean. The only furniture was a small table next to his bed. On it was a book. "What are you reading?"

"Reading? Oh, that is a book that I took from the library."

"Took as in took?"

"That is what libraries are for, isn't it?"

Maurice smirked, even though he could not see her. "Did you check it out?"

"I will return it later, if that is your concern. It is a history book. Since this museum is in the US, I thought I would learn a bit more about it. During my lifetime, the country was still in its infancy. It started with its revolution, which inspired other countries to take their ideals of democracy and such. French soldiers took these American ideals and customs back from the American revolution, and thus we have features as the French revolution. That is something that the book mentioned."

"Yes, revolutions do cross borders. The American Revolution sparked nationalism and patriotism. People realized that they could be a part of a country, not as a cog in a feudal machine, but as members of a nation. Nations and countries are terms that are often confused, after all. A country torn and hated by its citizens is by no means a nation. Americans who were underrepresented in British government did not feel part of the British nation, and so they wished to divorce into a separate country. Gosh, that time must have been a mess of ideals. I would sure like to visit it."

"You're not boring, but I'm actually going to fall asleep."

"What did you do to become so tired?"

"I didn't sleep last night. It rained, remember?"

Maurice laughed. "You mean that light drizzle?"

"It disrupts my inner noises."

"Whatever you say. Well, goodnight Shmuck." She removed her hand from his.

"You can call me Max if it's just the two of us. It feels weird when everyone calls me by my last name."

"Of course, Max." Feeling daring, she kissed him on the cheek, and stood.

He stood also, and saw her to the door. "Goodnight Maurice."

.

Here she was in the American Revolution. The air was fresh and the foliage more alive than it was in her time. This was the time of the American wilderness. It was by no means uninhabited, but it was untainted by the needs of Europe. She distanced from settlements, she would have to walk some ways through forest. She was on a deer path, and followed it. It conveniently took her to a human walkway, which she followed. She ended up walking on the path through a field of wheat. She continued through the wheat to a log cabin. Farms had not been heavily industrialized yet, and the distance was not enormous.

She knocked on the door. No one answered. She knocked again, and, finding no response, she left.

She wandered some more. She found an apple tree, and plucked its fruit to eat. It was a powdery and dense apple, probably meant for pie and not eating, but she ate it anyway. It was a satisfying feeling to be able to simply take food as it was needed. There was plenty of day left, so she wandered trails. She hadn't come with a plan. Maybe talk to some local people and see what they thought about what was happening, and Britain. She was curious to compare what modern texts had on history versus what actual people though. Was the revolution dramatized, or as ever-prevalent as she would imagine from what textbooks say?

In the trees she spotted fabric. A person perhaps. The person sprouted from the foliage, along with several others, and she suddenly found herself surrounded by a group of men. They wore the knee-britches and shirts typical of the time period. Their facial hair was groomed decently, not cleanly but not completely untended.

"Howdy y'all," greeted Maurice.

One stepped forward. A dark-haired man, tall and imposing. "What is a young lady like you doing wandering around at a time like this?"

"Is this time an important time?" Maurice indeed did not know. Perhaps this was a subplot of undocumented history, as she had thought that she was in an actionless area.

"Indeed. Where are you from? What accent is that?"

"I'm from Canada. There are some weird accents up there what with the French and all that." It was not untrue in the 1900s, but early Canada was not so multicultural.

"Canada... not China? I don't think I've ever met a Chinese without a Chinese accent."

"Nope. I've never been to China anyways. Listen, it was interesting seeing you guys, but I think I'll be on my way."

"Not so fast. I'm not sure we can let you go so quickly. Loyalists flee to Canada, so how do we know you aren't working for them?"

"Maybe because I am not in Canada, and am thusly not a loyalist in Canada."

The man paused for just a few moments before coming back. "You could be a loyalist from Canada who has come back to do do sneaky loyalist things."

"Like walk around the forest and pick apples? Pardon, les pommes?"

"You can't prove that you are innocent."

"Innocent until proven guilty."

The man laughed and turned to his company. "She's funny, isn't she?" He turned back. "I'm afraid we can't have you walking around either way. We will escort you home to your family. You have one nearby? What is your name? I'm Horace."

"My family is in Canada. Name's Maurice."

"Well surely you have a husband nearby. Or a house. You look too clean to be homeless."

Maurice thought a moment to consider her next words. "I've got a husband yes. I can find my way home, don't you worry."

"Good. I'll send a few men with you to make sure you reach your house safely."

"I don't want your soldiers trampling my crops."

"They are young American gentlemen. Are there no paths on your property?"

"There are paths! I mean, small paths, very narrow, like rabbit trails."

"I think you're lying."

Seeing no point in continuing the poor pretense, Maurice dropped some of it. "Yeah, I think I am too. Are rabbit trails even a thing? That was just the first thing that popped into my head. Anyhow, I'm not a loyalist, I can say that. I'm just a friendly Canadian, or Canadien, popping over to see what's up. Lots of leaves, apparently, 'cause we're in a forest."

Bang!

"Was that a gunshot?" asked Maurice. She felt stupid as soon as the words left her mouth. The sound had come from the forest where the company of men had been heading before running into her.

"It must have been one of our parties encountering some lobsters. If you have no family, then you are going to have to come with us." Horace lightly gripped her arm, and the men began to head sneakily towards the sound, some taking positions further along. Horace and Maurice were at the rear. Clearly they did not want her to be in too much danger, even if they did find her suspicious. More gunshots sounded, and Maurice was becoming increasingly apprehensive. They stopped for a long while, and they found themselves on a desolate scene. There were bodies on the ground, British soldiers. Two horses were being retained by men.

One of the second American group approached Horace. "Nothing unusual. Two of our men got shot, one dead, one wounded. One man got kicked by a horse. He's still alive, but he doesn't look it."

A hand suddenly grabbed Maurice's shoulder. She turned around, surprised, and then even more surprised. "Shmuck?"

"Yes, it's me."

Horace looked at the two. "You know the lad?"

"Yes," said Maurice. "He's... my beau."

"What is that?" asked Shmuck.

"You're my boyfriend, stupid. What are you doing here?"

"Well," started Shmuck, "It's all stuff I should tell you in private, but basically you hadn't, er, what to say. You hadn't come home in a while, so we went looking for you. Your general location was recorded, so we had to... hmm. You catch my drift. We all want to know what you are doing here. You mentioned it a bit that night, so was it just on a whim that you should go sightseeing?"

"Yes."

Horace butt in. "I'm sure you two are having a lovely reunion, but it is time to be going.

.

Barbara, Carlson, and Hunaphu watched the scene below from a tall abandoned building. It was a battle between the Americans and French, and the British. They were on a field of extensive grass, framed in by forest and the town.

"It's brutal, isn't it," commented Barbara. "They're just lining up and shooting at each other, hoping that by luck they happen to survive. Imagine standing there thinking, that with how inaccurate a musket is, a bullet aimed at your neighbor could just as well hit you? What keeps them going?"

"Many things," said Carlson. "There are consequences for desertion, firstly. Then, some are slaves who have been promised freedom, or men promised money. There are also men there held only by patriotism. It's a powerful force, Patriotism."

"Comes with it's cons," remarked Barbara.

"What is bad about loving one's country?" asked Hunaphu, curious.

"Hmm." Barbara paced a bit. "It is hard to put into words. Well, a simple example is that a country who favors herself will put herself above others, ignoring the greater good, sometimes the greatest of goods. There are some people who are blindly patriotic, which I think is simply dangerous."

"So what is good then?" asked Carlson.

"No human institution can be better than humanity." Barbara had taken Hunaphu's hand now.

"Wise words," said Carlson, eyeing their hands. "Still, patriotism has its place. I think that this is one of them."

Bang! Another volley of musket balls was fired. The pale green grass was obscured with smoke from cannons and guns. Some men fell from their line. Some dirt ascended from the force of metal being driven into the earth.

.

The cracks of gunshots had one again filled their air. The company of men had encountered another British patrol. They shot the leader off of his horse first, causing disarray among the men.

Shots were exchanged. Shmuck also shot, being for a time, part of the company. Men moved around, and it became hard to tell if they were safely nestled among Americans, or if the British men had infiltrated the lines. They wore bright clothing, but they were still highly trained, and Maurice did not know how effective the American strategy was. She had never thought to research warfare tactics, though she did have the impression that guerilla tactics worked well for the Americans.

She tugged on Max's sleeve. "I say we make a break for it now. We aren't obliged to stay."

"That is true. Here." Max led her from cover to cover through safe foliage. They eventually found another path to escape on.

"Stop there."

They froze. It was a redcoat.

"For treason against his majesty, you must die." The British soldier raised his musket and shot. First Max, then Maurice.

Spot 12: ZSB2000

NO ENTRY - ELIMINATED