

Timeleap 2

Finding King Arthur

Steve Howrie

Time Leap 2: Finding King Arthur. Fiction.

Revised edition. Previously published as Time Leap 2: The Time is Now.

Both editions, copyright © Steve Howrie 2019.

The right of Steve Howrie to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed or electronic reviews.

*****
Chapter One

We had done what others could only dream of doing: we had travelled through time. With the aid of a mobile phone, we had influenced past and future events and interacted with people from other time zones, including younger and older versions of ourselves. The result of our interventions had not always been for the best; but our intention was always to make the World a safer and better place for humanity. And hopefully, good deeds will always be the result of good intentions.

We had chosen to travel to Scotland in AD 4,200 to see what the future held in store for us, and found ourselves in a country we hardly recognised. Our travelling companion, a Russian hitman called Smirnoff, had deserted us (for whatever reason), condemning us to remain in a desolate world, ravaged by environmental upheavals. On the plus side, we were now billionaires in our own time zone (mainly accumulated by utilising our time travelling abilities to win national lotteries in various countries) and this had funded our sorties into past and present worlds – as well as providing us with a very comfortable life. But all the money in the World could not take us back to the place we belonged... to our London home in the twenty–first century.

We had sought refuge from the poisonous air that surrounded us with a group of like–minded souls led by the charismatic visionaries Madeleine and Ben. Their understanding of past events was mostly handed–down stories, relayed to sons and daughters of the survivors of the apocalypse; but there was something else about these people... something other worldly we couldn't quite put our fingers on: an intuitive knowledge of the universe. They emanated peace and harmony and lived off the land, as well as they could, growing their own food underground and making their own clothes and furniture. We were welcomed warmly into their circle with their hearts and minds.

"Don't worry about your friend – he'll be back," Madeleine said calmly and confidently. Smirnoff had taken my time travelling mobile phone and the camper van we used to drive up to Scotland, and vanished to who–knows–where or when.

"And if he doesn't?" I asked.

"Then you have a great opportunity to learn more about this universe – and yourselves," Ben answered sagely. Then he added, "You know Joe, your main weakness, if you don't mind me saying, is impatience." I was taken aback; where I come from, strangers don't talk to each other like this.

"And even if you do mind us saying, it's still true," Madeleine added with a twinkle in her eye.

Niki could barely stop herself laughing.

"Thanks Nik... no need to rub it in. Okay, I might be a little impatient at times."

"I little!" she exclaimed.

"Do you trust Smirnoff Niki?" Madeleine asked.

"With my life," she answered without hesitation.

"How about you Joe?" Ben asked me.

"Well, I..."

"So that's a no then."

"Actually," added Madeleine, "all you can do in life is trust that a person will follow their own track of thought. People don't make their own thoughts. Those from our World, the descendants of the survivors of the upheavals, realised this a long time ago. The brain is a receiver of thought, not a creator. Nor can it store thoughts in the head. It is not a computer... it is far, far more sophisticated that any computer than Man could ever develop. You only use one tenth of its capacities."

I was hooked by Madeleine's words, and wanted to know more; but our conversation was interrupted by a very welcome Russian face.

"Joe, I think you're going to kill me!"

"Well, I might need a hit–man for that," I joked. Having got over the annoyance I initially felt when he went AWOL, I was now very relieved to see him.

"Smirnoff!" Nik screamed and hugged him. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, just a little trip back in time." He pulled out a bottle of single malt scotch whisky, a large box of shortbread and some cakes from a bag he was carrying. "I thought our new friends would appreciate these," he smiled.

*

During the next few days, Madeleine, Ben and the others enlightened us with their understanding of the universe. It was truly mind–blowing, but difficult to get my head around at times. Ben said we had to let go of all our preconceived ideas and accept that everything we had been taught by our society could be totally wrong. In fact, the majority of the things we accepted as fact could be the complete reverse of how they were in reality. Niki seemed to adapt to this new way of thinking much better than me, I have to say.

An understanding of thought was key to all this. According to Madeleine, we're born with two opposite tracks of thought which are fed into our brain, or 'receiving set' as she called it. A selector, located within the brain, chooses which of the two thought tracks we use, and we have to accept all the thoughts on that track until we get to a point when we can choose again. A bit like a train on a railway system, with the signalman being the selector of the tracks.

Ben explained that having a free choice between these two tracks was vital to our evolution as humans. The whole idea of Darwinian evolution, where one species evolves into another, was abandoned many years ago in their past, he said. Instead, people began to understand that evolution occured through using higher levels of thought, not by changing body shape or design.

"In previous time periods, there were many 'visionaries' who tried to help man to change to a higher track of thought," explained Ben. "Some believed these men and women were gods from some sort of heaven, and religions were created to honour them. Their words were often twisted, and some religious leaders did the complete opposite of what the messengers' words had intended. How can you preach love, tolerance and peace, and then torture and kill those who do not follow your way?"

He look at Madeleine, and she smiled back.

"Now you two," she said, "you're very welcome to stay here for as long as you like; but you need to think about your next move." Her eyes darted over to Smirnoff, who was leafing through books on a shelf over on the other side of the room.

"Oh yes, thanks," Nik replied.

Whilst Nik and I had been completely absorbed in Ben and Madeleine's words, we noticed that Smirnoff's mind was elsewhere.

"The girls have packed some food for your journey, so you won't go hungry," Madeleine continued.

"Where are you thinking of going next?" Ben asked.

Nik and I looked at each other.

"I'd like to go to the future," said Smirnoff, looking up from one of the books.

"This is the future!" I said.

"The future from here, my friend. I was thinking about a fifty thousand year trip?"

"Yesss! Let's do that Joe!" enthused Nik.

As usual, I was outnumbered. And anyway, it could be fun to see what life is going to be like so far into the future.

"Can you reverse anything you change in the future?" Ben asked, looking at me directly... making me feel a little nervous.

"Yes, we've done that before," I replied, thinking of the time my interventions killed off Niki's mum, then we jumped to an earlier time to put things right.

"Then safe journey," smiled Ben.

We collected the food that had been prepared for us, said our goodbyes to Ben, Madeleine and everyone at this amazing community, and headed for the van.

"We must come back and visit them again Joe," Nik said as we walked down the slope. "I've learned so much."

***

Chapter Two

We were not prepared, in any way, for what would happen next. It was impossible to predict what we would find so far ahead in the future. Of course, we all hoped that Scotland would still exist; but none of us could guess the nature of the landscape or the lifestyle of the people who lived during that era.

We entered our camper van and I set the date on my phone to AD 50000, whilst we all clung tightly onto parts of the vehicle. It had now become so seemingly normal to be able to travel backwards and forwards through time using an innocuous–looking app ('Date Me') that I stopped marvelling at its power long ago. And yet, it was utterly incredible that my phone, a Christmas present from Niki, could actually do this. Sometimes, I wondered if I was dreaming the whole thing up. But the shared experiences of both Nik and Smirnoff proved otherwise.

As I changed the date on the phone, I felt the usual 'wobble', this time accompanied by a great pulling force, no doubt due to the large number of years we were travelling, and the size of the van. I grabbed Niki's spare hand to make sure we weren't separated. We had previously discovered that the bigger the jump (in terms of the number of years), the larger the force on our bodies, and the longer the time needed. This time it was almost unbearable, and I felt my arms were going to be pulled out of their sockets.

"Don't – let – go!" I shouted to Niki and Smirnoff. They nodded, knowing that to be disconnected from someone holding the phone could be disastrous: who knows where they'd end up?

After I don't know how long, we found ourselves lying all over the van, which was now located on the floor of some sort of building. I think I might have been knocked unconscious. My first concern, though, was for the others. I needn't have worried. Smirnoff pulled me to my feet, and Nik was standing next to him. A bit giddy, but otherwise she seemed all right.

"Jeez... that was some ride!" I said. Then I became aware of people looking at us. A young woman approached Niki and moved an arm towards her. Nik instinctively recoiled, like a cat or dog might do when faced with an unfamiliar human. The woman smiled, indicating it was all right, and Nik allowed her to come close. The woman was dressed in what I had thought was a blue outfit, but now it was green! All the other females were dressed in similar robes, which exhibited different hues at different times. Everything about their appearance was perfect – I saw no blemishes, no imperfections in their skin. And I didn't see any men.

Another woman approached, and I let her touch my arm. Smirnoff was more reticent, and wouldn't let anyone get near him. The woman just smiled and backed away. The woman attending to Niki then talked quickly to two other females, who nodded. Unsurprisingly, I didn't understand their language, but the tone of it did sound like a mixture of Scots, English and Chinese. The woman then looked at Nik and indicated a passageway. It seemed pretty clear that she wanted to take us in that direction.

"I think it's okay, Joe... I trust them." As Nik talked, I noticed that the women appeared to be very interested in the way we spoke. Suddenly one of them repeated word for word what Niki said. At first I thought this was just mimicry, similar to what parrots do. But then another woman smiled, saying, "Yes, you can trust us... come this way."

Niki followed the women, and I moved to join her. But immediately the woman who had spoken raised her forearm across her chest as a stop sign. I saw Nik indicating to me that she was alright on her own, so I nodded back.

Looking around the building, it seemed to be some sort of Shopping Mall. On higher levels, I could see people moving around, all dressed in a similar way. They were all quite tall, with beautifully arranged hair, and soft scarves draped over it. I wondered if the colour change in their clothing reflected their moods. I turned to Smirnoff,

"What sort of place is this, d'you think?"

"I don't know... but I don't trust these women. If you want to get away, I can take them out – no problem. They are just women – it is easy."

"Then where are the men?"

"Oh, they'll be doing the important work, while the women play at buying clothes, making themselves beautiful... it's what women do."

"I'm not sure Nik would agree!"

"Nikita is different, you know that."

Another woman approached from a corridor, waving her hand over a part of the wall near to where we were standing. Two seats immediately appeared from the wall, as if from nowhere. She indicated for us to sit. I was glad to, but Smirnoff preferred to stand. Then another woman brought some food. It seemed to be a mixture of grains and fruit with some sort of cream, which tasted like coconut. It had no interest for Smirnoff.

After about twenty minutes, Nik returned. She was smiling, and wearing clothes similar to those worn by the other women.

"You look happy... what did you learn?"

"This is unbelieveable Joe! Can we stay here?"

"What – forever?"

"Maybe," she grinned.

"How did you communicate with them?"

"In Chinese! I don't know how they do it, but maybe it's just a stage beyond what we do in our time using translation software on our phones."

"Could be. I guess they don't need mobiles then?"

"No – but they're very interested in yours! They asked me where we were from and how we got here. When I told them about the phone, they really, really wanted to see it!"

"So I guess they haven't achieved time travel yet then."

I paused. After Smirnoff took my phone in AD 4200, I was very reluctant to let it out of my hands again. If we didn't get it back, we could be stuck in this place for the rest of our lives; and although Niki seemed to be in her element, I wasn't so comfortable – and Smirnoff clearly did not like it there.

"I don't know Nik... the phone is our freedom – our ticket back to our own time zone. I don't feel like letting go of it – not to these people. I don't totally trust them yet."

"They don't want to take it anywhere, they just want to see it. You can keep hold of it the whole time."

Nik's assurance swung it for me. I agreed, provided that Smirnoff could be there too. We accompanied Nik to a room nearby. The room was apparently empty. But again, a woman just had to wave a hand across the walls for things to appear – a table and four seats in this instance.

"Say something in Russian," Niki challenged.

"How about, 'Kosnites' etogo telefona, I ya ub'yu tebya'?" he whispered.

"What does that mean?"

"Touch that phone and I'll kill you."

"Try something a little more friendly! Like, Hello, how are you?"

"Privet kak dela?"

One of the women concentrated on the words for a few seconds, then replied:

"Ya v poryadke, spasibo."

"Ha–ha... it's a party trick. Anyone can do that on a phone these days."

"She has no phone – they don't need phones here, it's inbuilt translation."

"Okay, so try this: tell me what I'm thinking now."

The other woman closed her eyes for a moment. Her eye–balls seemed to be moving behind her eyelids. Then she said in Russian: "Vy dumayete o svoyey materi."

"Whoa! How do they do that!" Smirnoff reacted.

"What did she say?" I asked.

"She said I was thinking about my mother."

"And were you?"

"Yes!"

I didn't need anything else to convince me of the advanced nature of these people. I took out my phone and showed it to the 'alien' women. They both studied it intensely. Nik explained in Chinese that it was not a normal phone, but had been imbued with the power to time travel by accident. She showed the women how to use the device for time travel by simply changing the date. After this, the women talked to each other in animated voices. Then one called 'Miranda', said:

"We would like to replicate your device. It that satisfactory?"

"Well, as long as you don't take away it's time travel feature, that's fine with me," I replied.

"It is the time travel feature we are interested in," Miranda explained, "so it is important we do not take away this function! We would just like to make a copy of the device."

With 3D printers now becoming common in our era, I completely understood the 'small' leap to printing an actual working mobile phone. But I couldn't see any way they could replicate the unique function of my mobile.

I gave the go ahead, and the other woman (whom we learned was called Crystal) moved three fingers over another part of the wall, making a sort of drawer appear. Then she smiled at me and opened her hand. I trusted the women now, and gave her the phone, which she placed in the small drawer. She waved her hand over the drawer, and it disappeared into the wall. My heart missed a small beat, but Crystal said, "Worry not."

About two minutes later the drawer re–opened, this time with two identically–looking mobile phones, side–by–side. For a moment, I was concerned that I might not recognise mine. However, on closer inspection, the sort of minute scratch lines you see on older phones were not apparent on the copy. My phone was returned to me, and the first thing I wanted to do was check that it could still time travel. Everyone understood this, and I set the time to just one hour earlier and pressed enter. Finding myself in an empty room, I could see that it still worked. Going forward an hour took me back to Niki, Smirnoff and the women in the present time. After seeing me disappear and then return, the women chatted excitedly.

"Xianzai, women shi shi," Miranda beamed in Chinese. She changed the date on the copy phone using the Date Me app I'd shown her, and she was gone!

I stood up in disbelief. "Oh–my–god! It works!" My head was spinning... what did this all mean? Could anyone replicate the phone in this time period and travel to any time zone they chose? Would the World become full of time tourists?

"Ta qu guo ma?" (where did she go?) Niki asked in Chinese.

"Wo bu zhi dao!" (I don't know!) Crystal replied.

Of course, Miranda hadn't gone anywhere in terms of location – only in time. Twenty minutes later, she returned holding a twig of Scottish heather. Full of amazement, she talked rapidly to Crystal in their own language. They both laughed about the experience, which she had spent in our own time zone – in the Scottish Highlands!

Although Smirnoff wished to return to the twenty–first century, both Nik and I wanted to learn more about this future time period – and the people. Eventually, he agreed to stay a little longer – if he could get a decent drink. At first, this proved more difficult than I had imagined. When Niki asked about bars or pubs, the women did not understand. But when she mentioned alcohol, they said this was used for cleaning, and nobody actually consumed alcohol anymore – it was seen as an unnecessary and dangerous substance which dulled the mind, and had distasteful side–effects. I explained that the effects on the mind and body were what we actually liked, and then Crystal mentioned that some of the men had been known to make and consume their own alcohol, even though this practise was not permitted. In the end, we decided to make a trip back to our own time period and find a pub that way.

*

Whilst Smirnoff and I were enjoying a dram or two in the year 2020, Niki asked the women about their society – in particular, about the men–folk of their time. We hadn't seen any men since we arrived... where were they, and what did they do? She was in for a surprise.

"Men are workers – and provide for the women," Miranda replied.

"You mean this is a matriarchal society?"

The women talked amongst themselves.

"Yes, exactly this. Please tell us about your society – we desire to learn as much as possible. We have only handed–down stories and legends. Time travel will be a most useful tool for this purpose. But we would like to hear from you first. What do men do in your society?"

When Niki told them of the dominant part men had played in modern society in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the women were incredulous.

"Yes, we have heard stories about this – but it was difficult to believe the truth of it! Tell us, how can men be leaders? They do not have the intelligence or understanding to lead."

"So, in your society, men are never managers or leaders?"

"Certainly not! Men are the providers of society. They have the strength to work, to make, to fetch and carry – but they do not have the intellect to lead or make decisions. Most cannot even read, and many are unable to communicate, except by the use of grunting sounds."

"You make them sound like animals!" Niki remarked.

"Animals?" Again the women consulted each other about a word. "Oh yes, you are quite right! Except today there are no animals on the planet. They disappeared a long time ago. Our historical records say there were hunted to extinction by primitive man."

"So, in the past, did people farm animals?"

"Why would they do such a thing?"

"For food."

The women looked revolted.

"You mean eat animals!"

"Yes... why not?"

"Only very primitive savages would do this, I think."

"No–no... most people eat meat in our society, in our time... though more and more are becoming vegetarians."

The women talked amongst themselves for a little while. Then Crystal said, "We will visit your time period and experience life there for ourselves."

"Well, make sure you visit after 1960."

"Why is that?"

"Because before that women were treated like second–class citizens – it was a very male–dominated society. Women couldn't even vote until 1920."

Miranda and Crystal stared at my wife. "Vote? What is this please?"

Niki explained about governments, democracy, elections and voting. The women listened with great interest.

"We have nothing like this in our society," Miranda said. "And I cannot see any need for it."

Niki listened incredulously whilst the women told her how things worked in their matriarchal society. Men were the workers who fathered children, but did not feature in their upbringing. This was done by the elders of the society, usually the grandmothers. There was a minimal bond between a woman and her own children, who often grew up with very little knowledge of their maternal mother. Leaders existed in their society, but these were always women – and there were no formal elections. People gravitated towards their natural abilities, with the leaders being the ones best at a certain thing. When leaders retired, they chose the person who was most suitable to take over from them, based on ability, intellect and experience. Children did attend some form of formal education, but boys and girls were separated at eight years old, with the girls attending academic schools (where the teachers were entirely women), whilst the boys attended practical, skill–based schools with male teachers and female leaders.

After enjoying a nice Scottish pub, I returned to AD 50000 with Smirnoff later that evening, having learned everything I ever wanted to know about contract killing, but was afraid to ask. He went straight to bed, and I joined Niki in a room allocated to us by the women. They had provided very comfortable accommodation, decorated in a style in accordance with the colours we had observed in their dress. It was the first time I'd ever slept on a round bed. We were told the purpose of the circular shape was make it easier to sleep at different angles to magnetic north each month, their belief being that the body benefitted from this change of alignment. At first, they were going to give Niki a room to herself, with me sharing with Smirnoff. But we insisted that Nik and I would share. When Nik told me of her conversation with the women about how things worked in their society, I was very interested.

"Wasn't Queen Boudicca, leader of the ancient Brits, a bit of a matriarch?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"School history lessons, I think..."

"And how did you do in history?"

"Er, failed."

"Sorry Joe! There have been matriarchal societies in the past, but definitely not in Britain."

"Where then?"

"China, Nubia and South–East Asia. So would you like to live in a society like that... you just being a worker and leave all the decision–making to us girls?"

"I'll take a rain–check on that one."

"Ha–ha! I don't think so... it's my way or no way."

"No way! Anyway, seriously, we should think about going home soon. I was talking to Smirnoff tonight, and he feels a bit useless, and out of his comfort zone in this women–only environment."

"I know what you mean – and you're right. We can go home tomorrow."

***

Chapter Three

The next day, we saw the women before we time–jumped home. I was going to share our contact details, then realised they had a copy of my phone – so no need. Niki offered to show them around London, should they be passing. It was a really strange conversation considering London did not exist in their time zone! But they had the ability to time travel now, so anything was possible.

How life would change with at least one copy of my time travelling phone in existence, I did not know. Presumably, the women could travel back to a time before Niki and I were born and make changes to our history - and therefore our present. We knew from past experience that only those going back and amending history are aware of the change, so we would be totally oblivious to what they'd done. But this thought did give me an idea.

"Hey, you're not as dumb as you look Joe Cooper!" Niki exclaimed. "My very own phone to time travel with! But I thought we agreed to always travel together?"

"Well, yes... and I think we should always keep to that plan, where we can. But a second phone would give us a back–up if ever we needed it. Remember what happened to Joseph..." This was the name we gave to future versions of me... we had encountered those more than once. Ten years into our future, Joseph had a problem with his phone, and had to get it repaired. After the work was done, the phone could not be used for time travel. He could hardly return to the repair shop and say, 'Hey, what have you done to my phone? I can't time travel with it any more!' So, in these situations, a back–up would be very useful.

Before returning to our own time zone, we spoke to Miranda and Crystal about 4D printing our phone a couple more times. They said it was the least they could do, given that we'd just opened up a whole new world for them. But that brought up the question of the origin of my phone.

"Niki, you said this phone had been 'imbued with the power to travel through time by accident...' So you are the only humans who can time travel?" Miranda asked.

"Yes, that's right. And future versions of ourselves."

"Then how did this 'accident' happen?"

I told them how I had been given the phone by Nik as a birthday present. It seemed like a normal phone until I went on a business trip to New York. After I put the phone into the security scanner at the airport, I suddenly realised the phone was still switched on, and reached inside the scanner to power it off.

Miranda and Crystal discussed my phone and its unusual property in their native language whilst we waited patiently. Eventually, Crystal turned to us and smiled.

"Joe, Niki. It seems to us that the time-travel feature on your phone could not have been caused by what happened at the 'airport'. However, the electromagnetic waves of the scanner could have awakened a property that it already possessed."

"Then how did it get the power to time travel in the first place?" Niki asked, adding that she purchased the device online.

"Online?" Miranda asked.

Nik explained all about the internet and the world-wide-web, which the women thought was 'rather quaint' - but at the same time highly advanced, given the primitive nature of our society.

"It is possible that the device was sent to you by another version of yourself - from the future perhaps," Crystal observed.

We couldn't see how that was possible, given that Nik ordered the phone online and it was delivered to the house. But, for now, how and why my phone possessed this remarkable property would just have to be one of those unsolved mysteries.

*

The next day after breakfast, we said our goodbyes to the two women from our far future, and climbed into the camper van. It seemed that Smirnoff couldn't leave the materiarcal society soon enough, and we were soon on our way back to London in twenty-first century Scotland.

After arriving in Edinburgh, the big Russian said he had some 'business' to take care of in the city, and would make his own way back to London from there. We never like to ask about our contract–killer's business, so we just dropped him off at the City Centre and continued driving home.

***

Chapter Four

Six weeks later, having fully recovered from our time trips to the future, I awoke one morning to see Niki smiling at me. "Morning sleepy head! Where would you like to go today?" I must admit, my thoughts were along the lines of our local coffee shop for a decent cup of Americano, but Niki was already thinking of our next time travel adventure.

The last time she asked me where I wanted to go, I plumped for the time of Emperor Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of China who had united the warring kingdoms into one unified country. That was quite an adventure – one which very nearly got us both killed!

"Well, I used to love the tales of King Arthur when I was a boy," I replied after some deliberation. I recalled reading the books each night, revelling in the stories of Sir Lancelot, Guinevere and Merlin. But from what I remembered, there was very little truth in the legend. It was all made up by Malory in Victorian times, wasn't it? But Niki, who worked in the Book Depositry in London and had books for breakfast, was much more informed than me.

"Right, most of it was fiction... but there was definitely a young king called Arthur who fought against the Anglo–Saxons in the late fifth and early sixth centuries."

"Anglo–Saxons? You mean Arthur wasn't Anglo–Saxon?" She shook her head. "What was he then?"

"A Briton. His land included Wales, the north–west of England, Cornwall, Wessex and Brittany... which is now part of France, of course."

This helped me recall the things I'd learned in my history lessons at school. The Angles, Saxons and Jutes invaded Britain after the Romans left... bringing with them their own language and culture.

"Joe! You're not as stupid as you look!"

"Ha–ha. So, the Anglo–Saxons occupied quite a large area – London, the south–east, the midlands and north–west England."

"Right. But not Scotland – that was full of Picts and Scots; far too dangerous up there."

"And bloody cold!"

This was getting interesting.

"So Arthur and his crew were fighting to regain what had been lost to the Angles, Saxons and Jutes. Do we have any dates for this?" I asked.

Niki grabbed her ipad and was soon busy researching Arthur's time period. I sat back and thought about the possibility of travelling through time to the days of King Arthur and his knights... that would be something really special.

"Here it is... Arthur fought the Anglo–Saxons at the Battle of Badon, which was between AD 516 and 518. It's said that he killed 960 men single–handed!"

"Wow! It sounds like he must have used Excalibur," I smiled.

"He fought them again at the battle of Camlann, AD 537 to 539. Oh!" She paused.

"What's up?"

"Both Arthur and someone called Medraut died in that battle. Medraut was a Welsh name... I'm sure he's the Mordred from the legend. But it's not clear if he was fighting with Arthur or against him."

Apparently, within the King Arthur chronicles, Mordred was the king's nephew. Arthur had left Mordred in charge of Camelot when he left to wage wars on the Anglo–Saxons, and on Emperor Lucius of Rome. Whilst he was away, Mordred had an affair with Arthur's wife (Queen Guinevere), and crowned himself king – or so the story goes. He was a traitor – no doubt about it!

"Well, it's clear what we have to do then," I said finally. "Find Arthur, tell him what's going to happen if he puts Medraut in charge, and make sure he doesn't die in battle."

"And how are you going to do that? Become his body–guard and fight by his side?"

"Oh Joe! You, a body-guard! I think we know someone much better equipped for that role!"

*

She was thinking, of course, of Smirnoff. He was the obvious choice to accompany us to what must have been a very violent and extremely dangerous period of history. He was big, strong, intelligent... and he killed people for a living (unofficially, of course).

The last time we saw him was driving back from the Highlands after our trip to Scotland. I asked Nik to call the Russian about our next project – he always had a soft spot for her.

"Nikita! Any trips planned? I'm missing the times I spend with you and Joe."

Niki simply said we had a new idea that might interest him, and suggested we meet up soon. Our trips to the future were not as dangerous as I had imagined, but I had to admit that a visit to sixth century Britain was potentially life-threatening, and we really did need a bodyguard this time. He agreed to meet us in a field, for which he gave us the GPS coordinates. It was not far from our house.

We greeted and hugged our old friend.

"We'd like to offer you coffee or something, but unfortunately the only thing available here is grass."

"Joe, I did grass when I was a young man... no more," he replied in feigned seriousness.

"What d'you know about King Arthur?" Nik asked him. He blew out his cheeks.

"You people don't stand still, do you!" We couldn't help smiling at our Russian friend. "Okay, King of England, beautiful queen, who was probably fucked by a knight called Launcelot..."

"Smirnoff!" Niki exclaimed.

"What?"

"There might be people listening!" He looked around the field.

"I think it's only us..."

"Continue Smirnoff... the clean version please," I said.

"All right. So, there was another knight, a bad one who took the crown from Arthur – maybe Arthur's brother, or nephew, and he also, you know, with the queen. I think that's it. Oh–oh, there was a Castle – which was called..."

"Camelot?"

"Right, Camelot! And a round table. Then there was some sort of magic man – Marlin, or Merlin, or something like that... someone like Derren Brown. And of course a special sword."

"Excalibur?" Nik chipped in.

"Yes, that's the one. How I'd like to get my hands on that! You needed two hands to hold it."

"Well, that's great for the Walt Disney version – or even the French and English stories of the twelfth century, but there's not a lot of truth in either," I said.

"Yeah, well, you asked, so I tell you," he replied, kicking some loose sticks away from where we stood. "So what is true?"

We walked over to some nearby trees and told the Russian the verifiable facts about the legend. It wasn't a lot. There was no evidence of a round table, knights in shining armour, a wizard called Merlin, or even a sword called Excalibur. And though a castle may have existed, it would look nothing like the one in the Disney stories. What we were pretty sure of was the existence of a King of the ancient Britons called Arthur who fought the Saxons and Angles during the early sixth century, and no doubt he had a Queen. If we wanted to find the King – and we really did want to find him – there were two places to look, both of which were documented battlefields.

"So now I get it: a battlefield is very dangerous – you could get killed. Don't go my friends, with or without me, it will not end well."

I explained that we didn't actually want to be at the battlefield – we wanted to talk to the King before the battle of Camlann began, and warn him about it. According to legend, Arthur was mortally wounded by Mordred during that battle, and eventually the Anglo–Saxons took over the whole of Britannia, leaving just Wales as a separate kingdom. We wanted to know what would happen if Arthur defeated Mordred, and survived the battle. These were dangerous times, and we would need Smirnoff in case we ran into any trouble.

"Well, maybe I could be tempted..." he said walking towards a large tree to relieve himself. Whenever he used the word 'tempted', he meant money of course. But I had another idea.

"How about one of these?" I held a mobile phone in my hand – it looked exactly like mine."

"What? You want to give me your time travel phone? Why would you do such a thing?"

"It's not mine... this is mine." I took my own phone out of my pocket and explained that after he left us in AD 50,000 with Miranda and Crystal, they made a couple of copies of my phone for us, and we wanted to give one to Smirnoff. A sort of payment–in–kind. So now he was free to time travel to his heart's content – which would be very useful for his business I would imagine. The Russian couldn't turn down such an offer, and agreed to travel with us to find Arthur, King of the Britons.

*

The next morning, Niki was smiling.

"Joe, you know that place Camlann we were talking about yesterday?"

"Yeah, it's the battleground – the place where Arthur gets mortally wounded."

"It sounded Welsh, so I translated it into English."

"And?"

"It means Camelot."

"Ah! So if we find Camelot, we've found the battleground!"

"Yes, exactly! But one problem: no–one knows where Camelot was – not for sure."

Nik explained that, according to Malory's 'Morte D'Arthur', the battle between Arthur and Mordred finished on the banks of the River Tamar, Cornwall. There was other evidence that Camelot was located in Cornwall, with some researchers believing it would be found at Tintagel near the far western tip of the county. But I just didn't buy it. For one thing, if Arthur was fighting the Saxons in the far south–west of England, it would mean that the invaders from the East must have pretty much over–run the country already, and the war against the Saxons would be lost.

We decided to keep looking for the actual location of the mythical castle; we really needed something a bit more concrete if we were to jump one thousand five hundred years back in time and find the legendary King Arthur.

***
Chapter Five

That night, I couldn't sleep: I had a lot of Camelot on my mind. Without disturbing Nik, I got out of bed and went to my computer. I opened up Google, and typed in 'Possible locations of King Arthur's Camelot'. On the results page, my eyes widened when I saw the headline, 'Arthur's Camelot – possible location revealed'. The website address was the University of Bangor, North Wales, and the article was dated December 20, 2016. I read the article quickly. Apparently, a retired academic named Professor Field (a world–renowned expert on Arthurian literature) had been researching the location of Camelot for the previous eighteen months. The place he discovered was the site of an old Roman fort known as Camulodunum, which means 'the fort of the god Camul'. It's not a great leap from Camul to Camelot. According to the professor, the fort had been located not far from the town of Huddersfield, West Yorkshire.

Niki must have detected my absence from the bedroom because she suddenly appeared in the lounge.

"Joe – what are you doing? It's three a.m... can't it wait?"

"Come and look Nik... I think I've found it!"

"Found what?"

"Camelot!"

I showed her the news article from Bangor University, and a map of the location of the Roman Fort.

"That's great Joe; but all I can see is a golf course and the M62!"

"Ah yes... well, the fort lies underneath both the motorway and the golf course."

Given that Camlann was the Welsh for Camelot, this would also mean we had found the site of Arthur's last battle... if the professor was right.

"I've been studying the languages people spoke during that period," Niki told me. "The ancient Britons used Common Brittonic. By the sixth century, this split into three dialects: Welsh, Cumbric, Cornish and Breton."

"So which would Arthur speak?"

"I'm pretty sure he'd be familiar with Common Brittonic, Welsh and Latin," she replied. "To be a king of the Britons, he would need to be fluent in these."

This made me wonder if we should spend some time learning the Welsh language. That would undoubtedly be a friendlier approach than speaking Latin, the language of their unwanted rulers for four hundred years. But it was late now, and we needed sleep.

*

The next morning, I woke with an epiphany. The moment my mind switched on, a name was on my lips: Gareth Hughes. Gareth and I were at university together, and he was the one friend that was different from all my others: he was Welsh born and bred. Perhaps we could take him with us? But when I told Niki my idea, she wasn't so enthusiastic.

"What! Why Gareth? Just because he's got something you want, it doesn't mean we should take him time travelling with us. We can't share our secret with every Tom, Dick and Harry!" I hated it when she picked up these English expressions so easily whilst I was still struggling with basic Chinese.

"I know what you mean, but Gareth's not any Tom, Dick or Harry – he's a close friend from university."

"A close friend? I've never heard you mention him before! When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"Oh, er, maybe eighteen years ago..."

"So you haven't spoken to him since university?"

"Er, Maybe not..."

"So promise me you won't contact him this time Joe?"

I did exactly that, and put the idea out of my mind. It's best not to cross Niki when she's in that sort of mood. So I thought that was the end of it – until the strangest thing happened two days later.

The landline rang in the hallway, and Nik answered it.

"Hello... it's who? Can you say that name again please... okay, hold on..."

Niki looked at me with a face like thunder, and handed me the handset. "It's for you."

"Hello, this is Joe... who's speaking? Gareth? Gareth Hughes? Well, that's unbelievable! I was just thinking about you the other day! Yes! You what? Mate, I don't know what to say... Niki will never believe it! My wife – yeah, I got married. How long are you in London for? Okay, good... yeah, we must meet up – can you give me your number? Cool, I've got that – call you back soon."

I put the phone down with a wondrous feeling... Niki was not going to believe this.

"I know what it looks like Nik, but this was not something I planned – you've got to believe me: it's some sort of synchronicity. He told me he had a dream about me last night..."

"Oh, I didn't know you had that sort of relationship," she smiled.

"Nik, I'm serious! He just called me out of the blue! Gareth's here in London on business. We both studied Finance at university, we were on the same course. I must have given him mum and dad's phone number when we were in Edinburgh, and he still had that. So he gave them a call, and they passed on our landline."

Niki looked at me seriously until I'd finished, then said:

"I don't think you're clever enough to make up something like that Joe, so it must be true. When are you meeting him?"

"I said I'd call him back after I'd talked to you... he's in London until Friday."

"Then give him a call – we can meet for a drink tonight, if he's free."

*

We met Gareth at the Old White Lion pub in East Finchley, not far from our old apartment on the High Road. It was located right next to the underground station, so a very convenient place to meet. After eighteen years, I hardly recognised him. But I couldn't forget that Welsh twang.

"Gareth?"

"It's me Joe! How are you keeping man?"

"I'm great... and this is Niki, my wife."

"Lovely to meet you," he said, looking at her closely. "If you don't mind me saying so, you do look a little Chinese." We both smiled. This was the Gareth I knew.

"Yes, well perhaps that's because I was born in China, and both my parents are Chinese," Nik replied.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, that was really stupid! Here, let me buy you both a drink."

I went to the bar to help Gareth with the refreshments, whilst Niki found us a place to sit.

"I put my foot in it there, Joe, sorry about that."

"It's nothing mate, don't worry about it." Gareth ordered three beers, and we took them to a quiet corner that Nik had found. "Cheers mate, really nice to catch up with you again."

"Cheers Joe – really good to meet you Niki." She smiled back at my old buddy, weighing him up, whilst we chatted.

"So you're in town for work I take it?" I said. "The last time I heard, you were back in Wales... Cardiff I think?"

"Right, for about a year. My dad wasn't well after an accident, so I thought it wasn't good to live too far from home. Then about five years ago I moved back to Nottingham to work."

"So he got better then?"

"No, he died."

"Oh god – sorry to hear that Gareth... it couldn't have been easy on your mum."

"Actually, mam died before dad – in the same accident. There was a car crash, and she was found dead at the scene. Dad was critically injured, but survived for around six months." Gareth rubbed his head and sighed, recalling the event. "I'd give anything to see them again... but I suppose that's just life. You have to forget and move on."

Ouch! This was going well. There was an awkward pause, and I looked at Nik, who gave me a sort of 'knowing look' in return. I knew what that meant.

"So how are things with you two," Gareth asked, emerging from his reflections.

"Great," we both smiled. "Since university, I've been working with a Finance company in the City – advising on stocks and shares, that sort of thing. Nik and I met at a book launch... she's really into publishing, and loves it."

"That's wonderful Joe."

"I've been doing some writing – novels mostly – hoping to become a published author one day. And Niki paints. Apart from that, we do a bit of time travelling every now and then, as you do. Just a hobby, nothing serious." I looked at Nik.

"It passes the time," she added.

Gareth was looking at us both, then burst out laughing.

"Joe, you nearly had me then – you were so serious! He's such a funny guy, Niki, we had a great laugh at Uni."

"We can show you, if you like," said Nik.

"What, time travel? You're actually going to give me a demonstration... right here and now?"

"Why not?"

"Okay, count me in!" he smiled, instantly lifting the mood.

We went outside and found a quiet spot behind the pub. Nik took out her phone. "Grab Joe's arm Gareth... you'll experience a sort of 'wobble'."

"No worries," he grinned, thinking it was some sort of game.

Nik changed the date on the phone, I felt the usual time wobble, and we looked around. We had travelled three hundred years back in time. The Old White Lion was still there (it was built in 1716, which we both knew), and we walked through the pub and out onto the Great North Road.

"Oh-my-god!" Gareth exclaimed looking around him. "Where's the station gone? There's no bridge... and the road... it's a dirt track! Joe, this is amazing! It's like we're in the countryside... how have you done this?"

"Time travel," I said, matter–of–factly. "Yes, no station here because that was built in 1869 – about a hundred and fifty years from now."

"Then what's that smell? The road smells like shit!"

"Ah yes, that's because it is! The Great North Road was used to transport manure and soot from London. So it became known as the Dirt Road for a while. A cart must have passed here recently."

"Would you like to go for a walk, Gareth?" Nik asked. He nodded, completely mesmerized by what lay before him. At the beginning, he thought we'd somehow transported him to another location, not another time. It was completely different from the place he'd been thirty minutes previously. Only the Old White Lion remained from his time zone.

As we walked north along the High Road with Gareth, breathing in the eighteenth century, we received several quizzical looks from the few locals who passed. Our dress was not in keeping with those times, of course, and we'd had no time to change.

This was not the first time we had experienced East Finchley in the seventeen hundreds. Not long after discovering that Niki's birthday present could send us backwards and forwards through time, we had travelled back several times during that century when we lived in our old flat in the area. Time travel using my mobile was very new to us just then, and we watched with amazement as the High Road changed over the centuries. One time, we jumped to this same year we now experienced with Gareth – 1716 – so we knew exactly what to expect as we continued walking north, past the junction with Fortis Green Road.

"In this area, at this time, Highwaymen were very common," Niki explained.

"You mean people like Dick Turpin?" Gareth smiled, still completely bemused by the whole experience.

"Exactly like Dick Turpin," I said. "And also like Jack Shepphard."

As we approached the junction of Bedford Road with the High Road, a different smell polluted our senses.

"Urghh! What's that smell now? It's like rotting flesh!"

"Yes... and you'll see why if you look over to the right."

We could now see a gibbet hanging on a post at the road junction. The rotting corpse of a man was interred inside, as was the custom in those times after highwaymen, or other criminals, had been executed. The idea was to deter others from engaging in similar criminal activities. We covered our mouths and noses as best as we could as we passed the gibbet.

When we were far enough away, I turned to Gareth, who was now utterly convinced that we had the ability to travel through time – there was no other explanation for what he had just witnessed.

"So, if you could travel to any time period in history, where would you want to go, Gareth?" I asked.

"Well, there's no question about this Joe... it would have to be to the time of my folk's accident in London."

"In London?" I queried. "I thought you said you looked after your father in Cardiff?"

"Yes, I did – after they brought him back from London. They were having a bit of a holiday in the West End when their car crashed at a junction. As I said, mam died instantly, but dad was taken to a local hospital. He was transferred to Cardiff Infirmary as soon as he was well enough to travel."

"What date was the accident Joe?" Niki asked.

"December fourteenth, two thousand and eleven. It's a date I'll never forget."

***
Chapter Six

The good thing about going back to the recent past in the UK was the lack of preparation needed. We could wear our usual clothes, speak English, and use our own money. And because the event happened in London, the time trip was even easier. What was going to be difficult, however, was preventing the accident which took the life of his mother, and later his father.

Gareth was working in Nottingham whilst his folks were holidaying in London. But he knew the exact location of the accident from the police reports, and from talking to his father afterwards. They were travelling from their hotel, the Langham in Marylebone, to the Cambridge Theatre in Earlham Street to enjoy one of the many West End plays. So their hotel seemed like a good place to meet his parents - which is what Gareth now wanted to do, of course.

It wasn't our original plan to change history for my old friend Gareth; but when he told us his story, we just had to try. Still in the eighteenth century, we jumped directly to Wednesday, December 14, 2011, choosing the time 2:00 pm. As we walked back down the road towards East Finchley underground station, we passed our old apartment. Gareth stopped in his tracks and did a double–take.

"What is it Gareth?" Niki asked.

"Did you know you've got doppelgängers... exact lookalikes? They just went into your old apartment!"

"Ah, that was us, not doppelgängers," I said matter–of–factly.

"You?"

"Yeah – that was us around eight years ago."

"Wait a minute... you mean it's possible to meet versions of yourselves from different time periods?" Gareth asked incredulously.

"Uh–huh," Nik replied, "strange, isn't it?"

"It's not a good idea meeting up with them, though," I explained. "It can cause all sorts of problems. In 2011, we hadn't discovered time travel, so to talk to them now would be difficult – probably freak them out."

We arrived at East Finchley tube station, and Gareth took out his mobile to call his parents. He'd kept the number from six years ago, but talking to his mother and father was not going to be easy.

"Hello?" a woman's voice answered. Our friend crumpled at the sound of his mother's voice.

"Hello mam... it's Gareth." his voiced cracked.

"Are you okay dear? You called us just ten minutes ago – but you sound different." He'd forgotten about the call he made from Nottingham six years ago, catching up with them and asking if they were enjoying the Capital.

"I'm fine, mam. Actually, I forgot to tell you I'm in London with my old friend Joe Cooper from university, and his wife Niki. How about we come over to your hotel to say hello... they'd love to meet you."

"Well, that would be very nice, Gareth. I remember Wynn meeting Joe at your Graduation, but I couldn't go then. We've got tickets for a play at the Cambridge tonight, but perhaps we can go for dinner before that?"

"Okay, well..."

"There's a nice Italian restaurant called The Monmouth Kitchen close to the theatre – can we meet you there?"

"No mam!" Gareth said strongly. "You stay at the hotel, and we'll pick you up from there... got it?"

"All right Gareth, if you're sure it's not too much trouble..."

"They'll be a lot more trouble if we meet at the restaurant... trust me!"

*

The three of us boarded an underground train. Whilst Gareth had been on the phone to his mother, Niki and I had been talking about this particular time jump and what we could achieve.

"There's something we have to tell you Gareth," I said quietly as we sat in the carriage. Only a few people were travelling on the Northern Line at that time, so we could talk relatively freely. Gareth looked very attentive: there was little he would not believe now. "We can't say for sure that we can change history and prevent the accident that happened to your parents."

"We know we can change some things," added Niki, "but we don't know how that will affect other events." She gave the example of her old school friend Steve. We had managed to stop him killing himself when he was fourteen, but he died in a motorbike accident two years later.

I continued: "So all we can do is warn your parents about what could happen if they drive to the theatre tonight. We could suggest that they walk to the theatre instead, but walking on the street is no guarantee of safety either. Even if they stay in the hotel this evening, they have to go outside sometime – and you can't stand by their side every moment of every day."

Gareth said he understood, and didn't have any high expectations about the outcome. Just seeing his parents one more time would be enough.

*

We arrived at Oxford Street underground. As we were leaving the station, Gareth noticed a message on his phone.

"What is it Gareth?" Niki asked when she saw his concerned face.

"It's from mam... she says they've left the hotel already! Dad wants to buy some souvenirs before dinner, so she says they'll meet us at the restaurant!"

We'd no idea exactly where they were going to buy these souvenirs, but we guessed it must be close to the restaurant. There was no time to take the underground there, so we ran as fast as we could. We hadn't gone far when we heard the wail of an ambulance.

"Oh shit!" I said under my breath. We ran in the direction of the sound, and soon came across the scene, which was quickly being cordoned off. There were two ambulances and a police car next to two crumpled vehicles. It looked like a head–on collision. Gareth was beside himself; he wanted to go to his parents, but the Police kept him back – even when he told them he was family. We tried to console him, but he was not listening. For him to experience the loss of his parents the first time was bad enough; to actually see it in the flesh a second time was heart–breaking. After a few minutes, a policeman came over to us.

"Are you Mr Hughes?" he asked Gareth, who nodded. "Please come through here."

Gareth ducked under the barrier and walked with the officer whilst the policeman talked. We could feel his pain... and then see the tears. I caught a glimpse of his father being put in an ambulance. Naturally, Gareth wanted to go with them to the hospital, so we made our own way there, having got the address from a policewoman.

*

"Why didn't this work Nik?" I asked as we drove to the hospital.

"I don't know. There must be some common element to cause this. Gareth coming to London is different this time, and we weren't with him either."

"So what's the same?"

She closed her eyes and concentrated, searching for the common element. London was the same, the hotel was the same – and the same play at the same theatre – and the same restaurant. We just had to change one of these. And then her eyes lit up.

"The phone calls." I looked puzzled. "In 2011, Gareth called his mum from Nottingham. Today, he called her from London."

"So?"

"He should have gone to the hotel without phoning."

"Why?"

"If he phones, it means he can't be there. You don't phone someone if you're sitting next to them! If he needs to break this karma, or whatever it is, maybe he's got to be there in person – no phone calls."

"Whoa! We're doing karma now?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

I had to admit I didn't; this was the best lead to follow.

*

We arrived at the hospital and found Gareth. The situation was exactly like last time: his mother was dead, and his father seriously injured.

When she had a chance to talk to Gareth alone, Niki told him her idea.

"Oh, I don't know... I don't think I can take the hopelessness of this again. And I don't know how I could have believed in time travel in the first place. I need to see dad..."

"You can't walk away from this now Gareth – we can fix this, but we need your help," I said. "The things that have happened are a re–run... look at the date on the newspapers, see for yourself: December 14, 2011. We have time travelled! And we can go back and put it right – I promise you."

I really had no idea whether or not we could change things the way we wanted, but I had to give Gareth hope. Eventually, he agreed to try one more time and Niki set the jump time to nine o'clock that morning. We would easily get to the hotel before eleven from the hospital.

*

We arrived at the Langham at 10:00 am. In the foyer sat Wynn Hughes, Gareth's father, scanning the morning papers. Gareth froze for a moment, until his father looked up and spoke brightly.

"Gareth, what brings you here? I thought you had work in Nottingham?"

"Well, I did, dad, but I managed to free up some time to see you."

"Fantastic! Come and see your mother, son, she'll be so happy to see you." He clearly had no idea of anything that had happened in our time, which to us was normal now. But Gareth was still in shock. I gave him a nudge.

"Oh, these are my friends, Joe and Niki. Joe and me were at university together."

"Yes! I remember meeting you Joe at the Graduation in Edinburgh... how are you?" He shook my hand warmly.

"I'm good, Mr Hughes, and this is my wife Niki," I said, introducing her. Nik smiled and shook his hand.

"Welcome Niki – so pleased to meet you! And let's stop this Mr Hughes business... it's Wynn. Come on upstairs."

We took the elevator to the fifth floor. Wynn entered the room first to warn Megan that we were there. A minute later, he invited us to pile in.

*

Gareth didn't want to leave his parents' side that day. When his mother told him about the tickets for a play at the Monmouth, he suggested they didn't go and get a refund instead.

"Well, we can't spend the time on our own now you're all here, can we now?" Wynn replied.

So instead, we went for nice meal in another part of town, nowhere near the Monmouth Theatre, followed by drinks in a nice wine bar. Gareth did not leave his mother's side the whole evening.

After escorting the parents back to their hotel and saying our goodbyes, we headed off to a quiet park area so we could jump back to our present. Understandably, Gareth didn't want to lose his folks for a third time, so he booked a room in the same hotel and we promised to return for him the following day.

***
Chapter Seven

The next morning, Niki woke around 10:00 am. I had been up earlier, jumping back to December, 2011, so I could send Gareth forwards to the present day. Nik was still in bed when I returned home from the West End.

"D'you know, we lived through a thirty–seven–hour day yesterday," I stated.

"That's exactly what it feels like," she groaned.

"We jumped back seven hours from 9:00 pm to 2:00 pm, then later jumped from 4:00 pm to 10:00 am..."

"Okay, okay... got it!" she replied. "Can we get some sleep now?"

"Not me, sorry... I've got King Arthur to plan for!" I said leaping out of bed.

"How about Gareth?" she asked, suddenly more awake.

"Yes, that's the big question. I'll phone him later."

"Don't wait too long, he's going back to Nottingham after work today."

Nik was right, I'd forgotten that his job in London finished at the end of the week, and he'd be heading back to the East Midlands that Friday. We couldn't hang around if we wanted his help in the search for Camelot. But Gareth phoned me first.

"So it worked!" I exclaimed. "And they're both okay?" I put the phone on speaker–mode so Niki could hear.

"I just got off the phone with mam," Gareth said excitedly, "everything's back to how it was before the accident! I don't know what to say to you both... if there's ever anything I can do for you guys, just ask."

I smiled at Nik. "Not yet!" she mouthed. She was right: this was not the time to mention another time travel adventure – one which could be quite dangerous. We nearly put him off time travel forever, so softly–softly was the best approach. We could always go up to Nottingham to talk about the project in a week or so when things had settled down.

"Thanks Gareth – we're both over–the–moon at your news... made it all worthwhile."

I promised we'd keep in touch with our friend, and then I turned to Niki.

"So what now, my love? What wouldst thou wish I do for thee?"

"Mmmm! I like it when you talk like that... don't stop!"

*

During the next few days, we began to plan our trip to the sixth century AD. We had to think about clothes, make–up, wigs, money and language, which I left to Nik. If we couldn't master Common Britannic or the Welsh tongue, we'd have to pretend to be from another country. Hopefully, Gareth would come on board, in which case he could do most of the talking for us in Welsh. Meanwhile, I researched the locations of the old Roman roads. This was becoming very interesting. There was one old road from Manchester to York, and this skirted the Roman Fort near Huddersfield, which the Professor from Bangor University believed was our Camelot. And according to the Professor, it was buried beneath a golf–course and the M62 motorway.

"How about playing golf before we jump back to AD 537 Nik?" I asked her one morning.

"Golf?"

"Yeah... the Romans played a lot of games, so why not? We could have Romans against Christians, and the losers are crucified," I joked.

"That is not funny Joe. I don't think I'll ever understand your crazy sense of humour. We Chinese don't talk like this – it's disrespectful!"

"You can be my caddy," I shouted into the kitchen, but she wasn't listening.

*

Nearly two weeks had past, and I thought it was time to give Gareth a call. But he beat me to it.

"Hi Joe, hope I'm not disturbing your time travelling!"

"No–no, not at all – we're both at home just now. I was just about to call you, funnily enough. How's things?"

"It's been great Joe, really great. Still can't thank you enough for what you did."

"No worries Gareth – don't even think about it."

"I'm calling because I can't get the idea of time travel out of my mind. It was such an amazing experience, and I'd like to do it again. D'you think that's possible?"

When I told Gareth about our plans to find King Arthur and Camelot, he could not believe what he was hearing.

"Joe, that's amazing! I don't know what to say! I read the King Arthur stories as a boy, and I loved them all! You've got to take me with you! 'Course, I suppose not much of it is actual fact... Merlin, Excalibur and all that. But it would be amazing to come with you... do you think I could help?"

"Well, we might manage to find something for you to do... how's your Welsh?"

"Rwy'n ddwyieithog. Rydym bob amser yn siarad Cymraeg a Saesneg yn y cartref, ac nid wyf wedi anghofio hynny. I'm bilingual, Joe. We always spoke both Welsh and English at home – I've never lost my mother tongue."

I told Gareth all about our research into the lost King and his Kingdom, and how we'd come across the ideas of an 'Arthurian Professor' regarding Camelot. I said I'd email our research to him so he had a heads–up. He confirmed that translating for us would be no problem, but he was a little concerned about being in warring Britain fifteen hundred years ago.

"Ah, well you're right to think about that! Yes, we don't want to get caught in any sort of battle – and of course we'll have to stick together and be very careful. But we'll be able to time leap home at any time – and we've got our very own bodyguard."

I told him about our 'Russian friend', and Gareth was suddenly much more relaxed. He said he had a week's holiday due to him, and he'd take that whenever we were ready for the time trip. I explained that we could actually time travel for a week, and still be back to Nottingham without missing a single day at work; but that was just too much for him to get his head around.

After checking with Niki regarding our preparations, we decided to head up to Nottingham on November 4th, pick up Gareth and drive to Huddersfield to meet Smirnoff. Niki had booked three rooms in the Swan Inn at Outlane, where the old Roman fort was located. We would be there some time that evening.

***
Chapter Eight

For the drive up to Huddersfield, we used our camper van once again. It comfortably held four people, and had plenty of room for the things we needed to take with us. Niki had been busy researching 6th Century clothing and money, and managed to find suitable items online. We had to look as if we fitted in, as far as possible. I found some maps showing the Roman Roads of that time, and put together a bag containing a couple of compasses; torches; matches; and battery chargers for our phones. We each added whatever convenience food we wanted to take. Smirnoff said he would deal with the 'protection'.

When the three of us arrived at the Swan Inn, the Russian had already checked in. I introduced Gareth to our friend and protector.

"Gareth, this is Anton Bowmore." Recently, Smirnoff had started using the names of single malt whiskies to hide his identity.

"Good to meet you Mr Bowmore – very glad to know you'll be looking after us."

"Just think of me as the 'Caretaker'. Would you like to see what I've got in my Caretaker's bag?"

We gathered around the bed on which he'd placed a long leather pouch. He unzipped it to reveal two types of sword, a dagger, a bow–and–arrow, pepper–sprays, and four whistles. "Everyone, take a spray and a whistle. Hide them in your clothing. Use the whistle if you need help or you're in danger. The rest is for me," he smiled. Gareth couldn't take his eyes off the large swords.

"That one looks like Excalibur!" he gasped.

"That's a Longsword, and the smaller one is a Broadsword. Excalibur might have been a little longer – so the knight could fight from his horse. At the time of Arthur, most swords were iron; steel swords like mine, very special at that time – and expensive. But I think my swords are far stronger than anything they had then. Best to leave them to me."

"Live by the sword, die by the sword," Gareth quoted, cringingly.

"I think most people died of disease at that time," Smirnoff observed with a grin."

We ate some food at the Inn, had a short rest, then prepared the things we needed for the jump. Niki gave me a false beard and a bit of make–up, then helped Gareth with his appearance. Next, we changed into our sixth–century clothing. Soon we were physically prepared for our time trip. Mentally, though, I can't say I was ready; I really didn't know what to expect.

We decided it was safer to jump in two pairs. Nik would go with Smirnoff, and I would accompany Gareth. We had one mobile for each couple, plus the other things we'd brought with us. The Swan Inn was a Victorian structure, and we had no idea what sort of building, if any, would have existed on the site in sixth century Britain. It therefore seemed wise to leave the Inn to make the jump. A few heads turned as we came downstairs, but we just nodded and smiled.

To reach the exact location of the buried Roman fort (and hopefully Camelot), we had to walk along the main street through the town, and then cross under the M62 Motorway. There was an active historical society in the area, so re–enactments of battles were not uncommon. But we still received plenty of stares as we trapesed down the road in our period costumes. People seemed particularly interested in Smirnoff's weaponry.

On the other side of the motorway, close to the golf course, the existing road weaved its way past the area we were interested in. So we walked further down the road and found a suitable place for the time jump. The battle of Camlann was supposedly between AD 537 and 539, so we planned to jump to the Autumn of 536. We didn't want to leap right into a battlefield!

"Everyone ready?" I asked. Nik and I set our phone dates to September 01, AD 515, which would have been a Monday. At exactly the same moment, we both pushed Go on our phone apps – and then we jumped.

*

When we arrived in the sixth century, Nik, Smirnoff and I were looking towards the Golf Course – that being the direction of the fort. So we didn't see what was behind us. But Gareth did.

"Er, Joe... I think you'd better take a look behind you..."

At our rear was a group of armed men, dressed in some sort of uniform. They seemed to be soldiers or guards. One of them said something in a language I'd never heard before, so I turned to Gareth for a translation – thinking it might be old Welsh.

"Oh, it's not Welsh, not what I know anyway... can you ask him to repeat it?"

"Oh sure, they're bound to understand what I say! Just speak to them in your language, will you? Tell them we're strangers to this area, and only understand Welsh." Gareth nodded, then translated what I said.

"Ymddiheuriadau, rydym yn ddieithriaid i'r ardal hon. Rydym yn deall Cymraeg yn unig."

One of the other soldiers then replied in Welsh, "Mae hwn yn faes cyfyngedig. Nid oes gennych hawl yma."

"Oh, his accent is very strange! But I do understand it. He said this is a restricted area and we're not allowed here."

"Okay. Tell him we're seeking Camelot, the castle of King Arthur."

"You really want me to say that?" Gareth asked, a little incredulously. "These guys could kill us!"

"I don't think so – I've seen the way they looked at Smir... Anton. Anyway, this is why we're here."

Gareth shrugged and said, "Rydym yn gofyn am Camlann, y castell y Brenin Arthur."

The guard spoke to another, who seemed to be in charge. He looked at us and talked back to the first guard strongly. Meanwhile, Smirnoff whispered, "I can take these men, Joe – there's no more than ten... just say the word."

The first guard then said, "Rhaid i chi roi eich arfau i ni, ac yn dod gyda ni." (You must give us your weapons and come with us).

We were surrounded by the guards, two of which took Smirnoff's Bow, and then tried to take his sword, whilst the rest of the guards marched us back along the track towards what had been the golf course. When the big Russian wouldn't give them his Longsword, one of the guards slapped him across the face.

"Right, that's it!" Smirnoff snapped. "No more Mr Nice Guy!" With that, he wrenched the sword from the guard's grip, instantly knocking him unconscious with the hilt. Next, he slapped the other across the head with the flat of the blade, sending him spinning to the floor. The other guards heard this, and rushed back to tackle the Russian.

"Run!" he shouted to us. We easily released ourselves from the guards, whose attention was now solely on our big friend. In less than three minutes the other eight guards were sprawling on the pathway, either unconscious or badly cut. He then ran to catch us up.

As we turned the bend, we gasped at what we saw. There was a high stone wall, and a large gated entrance ahead of us. Inside, through the gates, we could see many buildings, mostly of wooden construction, but a couple of stone ones. Some of these seemed to be used for living, some for farm use, and others unknown. All were either thatched or roofed with clay. Had we found Camelot?

But before we could find out, we were surrounded by about fifty armed men. Behind us, Smirnoff dropped his Longsword – exhausted from fighting ten guards single–handed, and accepting he could not beat fifty.

*

Our arms were tied and our weapons taken away as we were led into one of the stone buildings with barred windows, then downstairs into a basement. We were firmly pushed into a small room with straw on the floor. We thought it better to comply and offered no resistance this time. The room smelled of animals, and had probably been used for that purpose at one time.

"If these people are at war with the Saxons, they must be careful. Four foreign–looking strangers arrive at their stronghold, at least one with weapons. They could have killed us on sight," observed Smirnoff. "Now they'll decide what to do with us. We need them to know we are not Saxons... we're on their side."

"Smirnoff's right," agreed Nik.

"Who's Smirnoff?" asked Gareth.

"Oh, it's one of the names Anton uses sometimes... it's kind of stuck with us."

"I like it!" he replied.

After about thirty minutes, the door was unlocked and some bread, plus something looking like tea, was given to us. Soon after, a guard entered, saying in Welsh:

"Bydd uchelwr sy'n gallu siarad Cymraeg yn dod cyn bo hir."

"What did he say?" asked Nik.

"He said a nobleman who can speak good Welsh is coming soon."

The room was locked again and we waited. After another twenty minutes, the door was opened and a very different–looking man entered, with two guards by his side. He spoke in Welsh, which Gareth translated for us – as best he could.

"I am sorry to have kept you so long – my name is Geraint. You will understand that we must be very careful in these dangerous times. Your dress and language is strange to people here. Most in this area speak only the Brittonic tongue, though many do speak Welsh or Cumbric, and the nobility speak Latin. We are at war with the Saxons, and we must always be vigilant towards their armies and their spies.

"I have informed my master about your arrival, and shown him your weapons, which interests him greatly. He has never cast his eyes on swords of such workmanship, or such strength before. They are not of Saxon or Angle origin, we can be sure. He is also taken with your Protector," he said, indicating Smirnoff. "My master now wishes to meet you... please follow me."

We left the basement room, and followed the man up the stone steps, with the two armed guards close behind. Despite what he said, they still had to be careful with us, bearing in mind how well Smirnoff had tackled the guards. We were led into a large room, with an open fire burning at one end. Although it was September, it did feel cold inside the stone building and I could understand the need for the fire. Looking towards the fireplace was a well–built man in fine robes. After we'd entered the room, he turned to face us:

"I am Arthur," he said, "welcome."

***

Chapter Nine

The man was around thirty–five, I would say, with curly black hair and a cropped matching beard. He was about my height, wore no crown, and spoke in the Welsh tongue.

"Where are you from?"

We had rehearsed our responses to several questions we thought Arthur and his knights might ask, including this one. We had decided to truthfully say that Niki was from China, Smirnoff from Siberia, Gareth from Wales, and I was from Londinium – with a British mother and Roman father. (Well, mostly truthfully!). Gareth relayed this answer to Arthur.

"I see. I have heard of China – a land of wise people with great invention, and clearly very beautiful women," he smiled. "Siberia, I know little of – but clearly you are strong fighters. And you, Joseph, I understand because my father was also Roman. So why do you all come here?"

"To help you fight the Saxons," Gareth replied in Welsh.

Arthur laughed. "Well, I see our friend from Siberia will be invaluable in that respect – worth ten of my own men. But I would fear for the safety of the others... particularly the lovely Niki," he said looking at her warmly. "Please tell me about your land... China is a place of almost total mystery to me – how is it different from Britannia?"

Niki gave him a brief description of her country during the period of the northern and southern dynasties, where the country was ruled by parallel regimes in the north and south. At that time, Buddhism spread quickly throughout China, leading to much debate regarding whether it should be allowed in their lands. Eventually, both Buddhists and Taoists reached an agreement to be tolerant of each other and live in peace. Arthur listened avidly.

"Oh Niki, how I wish such a state of peace could exist in my country! But whilst the Saxons, Angles and Jutes insist on spreading over our lands like a pestilence, there will never be any such peace, and no harmony. Therefore, we must repel the invaders with all our strength and all our arms. Particulary the Saxons, for they are great in number and would rid our country of our own people, given the chance."

"A yw Camlann hwn? (Is this Camelot?)" Gareth asked.

"Camlann, no. This is an old Roman fort called Cambodunum, which we use to defend the north–west. We have defeated the Angles many times here, and at other locations nearby, and now this region is quite safe. My beloved Camlann lies many miles south from here. I will go there soon, before the winter comes. I have left my nephew, Medraut, in charge, and must relieve him. The Saxons are forever encroaching upon our lands in the south, and my men need me there. Now, you must be hungry... will you eat with us?"

How could we refuse to dine with Arthur, King of the Britons?

*

We were hoping to be seated at a round table, but this one was definitely rectangular. Niki and Smirnoff were seated to Arthur's left, and Gareth and I to his right. We were introduced to the others at the table, which included Bedivere, Gawain, Geraint, Percival, Tristan, and Thomas. There were no women seated. The food was basic, for which Arthur apologised. There was no need. It was great to eat wholesome, organic, chemical–free meat and vegetables, and home–made bread. The topic of conversation turned to our Russian friend.

"Smirnoff, it would please me greatly to hear about your swords. In my life, I have never cast eyes on weapons of such calibre. They have a remarkable balance and rhythm. And the material is unknown to us. From whence did you source them?"

"From Siberia," Smirnoff answered without hesitation. "They were passed onto me by my father, who had been the leader of his town. As he handed me the largest sword, he told me a story. Long ago, a sword was discovered set in a great stone in the central square of a small town in Siberia. No–one knew how it appeared there, nor who had placed it in the stone. Sometimes, some of the young men would attempt to pull the sword from the stone after they had drunk at the local tavern, but to no avail. Then, one day, the leader of the village was found dead in his bed, with a note by his side which read: whosoever is able to pull the great sword from the stone, shall be the new leader of the village. So a competition was held, and hundreds of people attempted to pull the sword from the stone. But none could move the weapon in any way. As it was getting dark, my father arrived in the town to visit some friends. He had lost his own sword on his journey, and seeing the sword set in stone, he thought he would borrow that one. Walking up to the stone, he effortlessly pulled the sword from the rock. A young woman in the square noticed this and screamed out: He's done it! He's done it! A young man has pulled the sword from the stone! Soon the square was full of people congratulating him, but he'd no idea what the fuss was about! So that's how he became the leader of the town."

I had to hold back laughing at our friend's story, told with such seriousness.

"It is a touching story, my friend; clearly it is a magical sword. And I notice there is an inscription upon it – could you explain this to me?"

Smirnoff couldn't remember what the inscription was, but agreed to translate it.

Arthur spoke to one of the guards, who hurried off to get the sword. He soon returned, carefully holding the weapon, and handed it to Arthur, who showed the inscription to Smirnoff. It read: 'Stainless Steel, Made in Sheffield'.

"Ah, Stainless Steel is the type of metal that the sword is made of. This weapon will never rust, and will always be strong. Sheffield is the name of the town in my father's story," Smirnoff explained, which was translated by Gareth.

"So Sheffield is in Siberia?"

"Exactly."

Fortunately for Smirnoff, the Yorkshire city of Sheffield would not exist in Britain until the eighth century, so he could get away with this fabrication.

"Here, try it for yourself," Smirnoff said, offering the weapon to Arthur.

The King accepted the sword, standing so he could practise thrusting and cutting with it. Then he called a serving girl to bring him something. A couple of minutes later, two guards arrived carrying large wooden logs. He placed them one on top of each other, then raised the sword, slashing right through one of the logs. Smirnoff was wide–eyed.

"It's not supposed to do that!" He murmured to me.

Whilst Arthur was cutting through the logs, Smirnoff and I looked at each other, and nodded. I spoke to Gareth.

Breathing heavily, Arthur held the sword horizontally in his hands to return it to Smirnoff. "I thank you, sir, for this opportunity to enjoy your most special sword. And I hope that one day, I may get the chance to possess such a weapon myself."

"That day has arrived," Smirnoff replied. "We would like you to take this sword and use it to help defeat your enemies. Your enemies, are our enemies."

Arthur was overcome. "But this sword was handed down from your father, I cannot..."

"You can, and you will," replied Smirnoff. "This is a sword fit for a King."

"Thank you, thank you all! This weapon will help us in the fight against the barbaric invaders. I will call the sword Sheffield."

*

After bading farewell to Arthur and his men, we jumped back to our own time for a much needed drink at the Swan Inn.

"Did Arthur really call the sword Sheffield, or was I dreaming that part?" I asked.

"You weren't dreaming it! And Smirnoff – you were amazing! I'm never going to believe anything you tell me any more!" Nik exclaimed.

"It's a true story! You have to believe me. Anyway, you must have heard it before."

"Yeah, from Walt Disney," Gareth smiled. "When I was alone with Arthur, I did suggest he call it Carmina Burana instead..."

"What does that mean?"

"It's Latin for Excalibur. But he wouldn't have it. The sword has Sheffield written on it, so that's what it's got to be, he said."

"Are we trying to change history Joe?" Nik asked.

I had to stop and think about that. If anything, I thought we were trying to simply confirm the existence of Arthur and his knights, and bring the stories to life – by giving Arthur our twenty–first century sword. This could become his real life Excalibur. Would this alone make any difference to the effect of the Saxons and Angles on Brittania?

"If you look at maps of Dark Age Britain, you see that Arthur certainly slowed down the pace of the Angle, Saxon and Jute influx, but couldn't stop it completely," Gareth replied. "By the year 800, only Wales, Cumbria and Scotland were left free of Anglo–Saxons. Just one special sword isn't going to make much of a difference over time."

"I agree with Gareth," seconded Nik. We can't really change what happens with one sword."

"And why should we?" added Smirnoff. "We have to be careful, my friends. If Arthur's army was strong enough to repel the Anglo–Saxons from Britain for good, what language would we be speaking now?"

"Britannic or Welsh, probably!" replied Gareth.

"Exactly!"

"Or French," I added. "Forty–five percent of our English language has French origins. We can't forget the Battle of Hastings."

"Which the French would probably have lost!" We all looked at Gareth. "Think about it: Harold, who was defeated at Hastings, was a Saxon king. If Arthur had driven out all the Anglo–Saxons and Jutes, the kings from Arthur onwards would have been Britons. In which case, it's highly likely they would have won the battle against William."

Gareth was right. And if Common Britonnic became Britain's national language, maybe it would have spread over the whole globe instead of English – which would mean countries like America, Canada and Australia would now be speaking it – or maybe even Welsh!

"Hey, I'm just a time–tourist, watching the backs of my friends," stated Smirnoff. "If you want to change history go ahead; but personally, I prefer Russian to English, and English to Welsh – no offence Gareth."

Everyone was quiet for a while, then Nik said: "We came here because of the legend. Now we know part of it was true. How about we take some photographs, then go home?"

"Photos? Of Arthur and his men?" I smiled.

"Yes – why not?"

"That's cool! Count me in," exclaimed Gareth.

"Okay," I said, "Let's go for it! And after that, let's go to Camelot!"

*

After leaving Arthur and his knights, we jumped back to the twenty-first century, and returned to the Inn to rest. A photoshoot with King Arthur and his men was a must, and the plan to find Camelot was just too tempting to pass up. But the question was, where exactly was Camelot? From what Arthur said, it was 'many miles south of here'. But we needed the precise location, and the King's approximate date of arrival.

So Gareth and I returned to September AD 515, whilst Smirnoff and Niki prepared for the drive down to the South–West. We were greeted at the gate by Geraint.

"Joe, Gareth... it is indeed good to see you again so soon. Do you wish to meet with the King?" We indicated that we did, and were brought to the same hall where we had dined.

"Ah, my friends, wonderful to greet you again! I hope you are keeping well. What can we do for you this fine day?"

We explained our plan to travel back home, and our desire to take up Arthur's offer to call in at Camelot.

"Of course – you are always welcome at my court. Do you know the whereabouts?" He removed a stick out of the fire and used the charcoal to draw a map on the stone floor. "We are here, at Cambodunum. The Roman road goes south–west to Mamucium, and then to Deva. From there, we march to Viroconium and then south to Isca Silurum. After that, the swiftest journey is across the river, and then cross country to Camlann. But if the winds are strong, and the sea rough, we will need to march to Glevum first then Corinium; and finally towards Lindinis. Camlann is near there. Sometimes the journey can take a little as seven days, other times ten. It depends on the weather – and the activities of the Saxons and Angles."

From my school Latin, I knew that Mamucium was Manchester, Deva was Chester, Glevum equals Gloucester, and Corinium was Cirencester – but I didn't know the others.

"Viroconium is Wroxeter, Lindinis is Illchester, and Isca Silurum means Caerleon," explained Gareth. "It's a part of Newport now."

"So where does that put Camelot?"

"Around Illchester, I guess. Possibly close to Sparkford. I know that place because there's a motor museum we used to go to when I was a kid. It's not far from..." he paused, and his face broke into a smile.

"From where?"

"Is everything well with you, my friends?" Arthur enquired. We had been totally absorbed in our plans for the journey south and became oblivious to him for several minutes.

"Yes, sorry," Gareth explained in Welsh. "We are excited by the prospect of finally seeing your castle at Camlann, your majesty."

"Please, do not be too excited: this is not the sort of castle you might imagine. We do not have the resources the Romans enjoyed, and must make use of the simple things around us. Hopefully, however, you will have the pleasure of the Queen's company when you arrive."

"The Queen? Do you mean Gwenhwyfar?" Gareth asked.

"Certainly I do! If you could wait two or three weeks, you could travel with our army."

We explained that we must leave the area as soon as possible on business, but would meet him and the others at Camlann.

"You will find that the Roman roads are still good, but deteriorating every season. If you need to cross the river, and then across country, it can be hazardous when the stars are obscured."

"Would this help?" I asked, handing him one of the magnetic compasses we brought with us. Gareth demonstrated how it worked, to the amazement of the King.

"From whence did you obtain such a device?" Arthur enquired. "It is like magic!" We explained that Niki brought it from China, where such compasses had been in use for three hundred years. "The World never ceases to amaze me, and once again I am in your debt, my friends. I look forward to our next meeting in Camlann... godspeed."

We left Arthur and the fort and jumped forward in time, joining Niki and Smirnoff at the Inn. They had already packed everything for our trip, and all that was left was a celebratory drink in the Swan before turning in. They were naturally interested to know about our meeting with Arthur.

"So where is this mythical Camelot," Nik asked us.

"There's only one place it can be now," Gareth replied. "Cadbury Castle, Somerset."

*
Chapter Ten

During our research into the battle of Camlann, we had looked into the possibility of Cadbury Castle, in South–West England, being the location of both Arthur's legendary Camelot, and his last battle. It did seem like the obvious choice, given its position and the fact it used to be known as Camalet. But after reading a retired University Professor's research, which placed Camelot at the Roman Fort near Huddersfield, Cadbury Castle had been left on the back–burner.

Now, however, having learned the actual location of the castle from the horse's mouth, we were in no doubt that the ancient earth mound called Cadbury was the correct position for King Arthur's beloved home. There was no actual castle building left there now; but from its stepped shape and flat top, it clearly supported something more than just grass at one time. Cadbury was not totally out–on–a–limb, as Tintagel certainly was in the far south–west; but at the same time, it sat in a relatively secure location. Close to a Roman road, and not far from the Severn Estuary, it was perfectly suited to quick movement in all directions.

We discussed all this as we raced along the M5 motorway towards our destination. Smirnoff was driving at his usual speed.

"Y'know, we do have time travel now... we can get there any time we want without breaking the sound barrier," I quipped.

"It's not the same, Joe. There is nothing better than the feeling of travelling at a hundred miles an hour down your British motorways."

"With the wail of police cars in your ears," Nik added.

"Ah, now Nikita does have a point!" he said, applying the brakes.

We put on some relaxing music as our Russian friend led the way to Somerset. In three months' time, Arthur and his army would be marching along the old Roman roads towards the same destination. According to our map, to walk that journey today would take seventy hours on excellent roads and pathways. Allowing for sleep, food and bad weather, Arthur's entourage would take seven to ten days to travel such a distance on Roman roads. With horses and some sort of wheeled carriages, it could be much quicker. But still, the four hours or so it was going to take us to drive there would be unimaginable in Arthur's age. So how about the future: how fast could we do this journey two hundred years from now? We would leave that for another time.

*

We arrived at South Cadbury and stopped the car in a quiet area nearby the mound, enabling us to take photographs and drink in the view. After a short rest, we changed back into our period costumes and prepared everything we would need for our next leap to the year AD 536. Nik was looking a bit apprehensive.

"What is it Nik?"

"You do think this is safe, don't you Joe?"

"Sure – why not?"

"Remember what happened before... with those guards?"

"Yeah, but it worked out good in the end, right? And we've still got protection," I pointed out, looking over to Smirnoff.

"Nikita, do not worry – King Arthur will look after us; and I am always by your side."

"Remember you've got your own phone now" I said, "so you can jump home anytime you feel unsafe. Okay babe?"

She nodded, and we got ready to time jump in pairs again. On September 2, Arthur told us they would be travelling to Camelot in two or three weeks' time, and the journey would take seven to ten days. We thought that three months would allow for any delays, so we set our jump date to December 1, in the year 536.

Within just a few seconds, we were facing Camelot, marvelling at the scene before us. This certainly was not the magnificent fourteenth century castle people have seen in the movies, but this was Camelot – the real deal! We walked up a path leading to a gate in the external wall, not far from where we had been standing. There were some similarities with the Roman fort at Outlane in Huddersfield, and we wondered if Camelot had also been built during the Roman occupation.

The next thing we knew, we were surrounded by guards! They just seemed to come from nowhere. So as planned, Gareth spoke to the soldiers in Welsh, saying that we were guests of King Arthur, who was expecting us. One of the guards politely replied that the king had not yet returned, so they would take us to Medraut, the King's nephew, who was looking after Camlann in the King's absence. But we must surrender our weapons on entering the castle. We didn't know what could have delayed Arthur, but it could well have involved the Anglo–Saxons.

"Don't worry," I said to Nik as we walked towards the entrance gate, "I'm sure Arthur will have informed Medraut or Guinevere about our arrival."

"Right – he probably sent them emails last week," she replied sarcastically, her right hand firmly on her mobile phone.

We were treated kindly, and had no reason to feel concerned at this point. Once within the walls, Smirnoff reluctantly gave up his bow, sword and dagger to one of the guards, who said he would look after them. We followed three other guards to a room inside a wooden building and were asked to wait. After five minutes, a finely–dressed man, with dark brown hair and Roman features entered. He was not looking particularly friendly, and he spoke in Welsh.

"I am told that you have met my uncle. Do you have a letter of introduction from him, signed by his own hand?" I suddenly realised that this would have been quite a useful artefact. Gareth confessed that we had no such document. "Then how am I to believe that you know my uncle at all? Indeed, how am I to know that you are not Saxon spies? In no way do you look of Britannic origin – or even Roman. Only one of you speaks Welsh, and he does that with the strangest accent. And who is this young lady? She looks like she's from Tsieina, or one of the Mongol states. Then we have our big friend next to her: by appearances, also from the East. And the last one certainly looks Anglian in origin."

"Gareth, tell him we have decided to leave, and will return to Camelot when the King is home, okay?" Gareth nodded and relayed my message, whilst I had my fingers on the mobile phone inside my pocket.

"Oh no, not so easily! You will wait here until the King returns – guards!"

Both Niki and I already had our mobiles out, desperately trying to get us out of there, but the guards were too fast. Smirnoff, Gareth and I tried to fight them off, but then Medraut called for more guards, and we were soon over–powered.

"Lock them up!" Medraut commanded.

*

"Well, this is a nice adventure," I observed, as we sat on a stone floor in some sort of cell. "Welcome to Camelot." This was the second time someone had taken away our weapons - and not just that: our mobile phones too. It was not a good feeling.

"I told you I didn't feel safe here, Joe, but you didn't listen! Niki paced around the room, looking understandably distraught. "Now what are we going to do?"

"We'll be okay once Arthur arrives," Gareth answered, trying to reassure her.

"If he comes! He could be delayed by a hundred different things – including the battle of Camlann. And then what?

"He gets mortally wounded by Medraut, taken to Avalon, and then dies. So we rot here for the rest of our lives," Smirnoff observed. I couldn't help smiling at his candor.

"Urghh!" exclaimed Niki, going to a corner of the cell. "Morons!"

Gareth asked me what was the worst thing that could happen. I told him that apart from death, it was both phones running out of battery power. We did have battery chargers, but we'd left them in the car... in the twenty–first century.

The guards brought us some food and drink, but we weren't hungry. Day turned to night, and I found myself drifting off to sleep. Suddenly, I was awoken by a sound: something outside the cell door. I opened my eyes and saw a person in a black cape through a barred window. The figure held a finger to its lips. Then I heard a key in the lock and the door opened slowly. I could now see it was a woman. She beckoned us to leave the cell quickly and quietly. Smirnoff and Gareth were now awake, so I woke Nik, covering her mouth so she could not speak. We followed the woman up some stairs. The two guards who had been there previously had vanished.

When we were outside, the woman spoke.

"I am Gwenhwyfar," she whispered. "I received a message from Arthur by pigeon two days ago. He let me know about your visit, and I informed Medraut. When I heard of your arrival yesterday, I told him you were the people Arthur talked about, but he refused to believe me and locked me in my apartment. So I regret I was unable to greet you. Medraut is ruling Camalet like a man deranged. He wants to take the crown of Britannia for himself, and I believe he has done a deal with the Saxon king for the head of Arthur. I fear for my husband's life – and my own. Medraut forbade me meet with you; but I have many supporters here, and last night the guards unlocked my door to ensure your escape. So now, please go – before Medraut finds out. The guards will soon be back, and they will have to do his bidding."

"It is an honour to meet you, my lady," Gareth said, after he had translated for us. "But we can't leave without the things Medraut took from us."

"Joe – I'll get phones and weapons... you take the others and leave Camelot as soon as you can," Smirnoff said.

I nodded, thanked Guinevere, and ran out of the encampment with Gareth and Niki as fast as we could.

The guards on the gate seemed nonchalant about us leaving, particularly as we were empty handed. Then, whilst we waited by the outside wall for Smirnoff, we heard a commotion emanating from a building. A moment later, the Russian appeared running towards us, brandishing his sword. It had blood on it.

"Hurry!" he called breathlessly, throwing a bag to me containing the mobile phones and the pepper sprays. I could hear the whish of arrows being released now, and the sound of heavy footsteps. I grabbed one of the mobiles from the bag, and gave sprays to Niki and Gareth. Guards burst towards us through the gate.

"Use the sprays!" Smirnoff shouted as he fought off two guards with his sword. Nik had used one of these before (one late night on the underground when a thief tried to grab her handbag), and Gareth just seem to pick it up. The guards recoiled in pain, but more were coming through the gate.

"Grab my arm!" I commanded, whilst changing the date on my phone.

Camelot and the guards disappeared into thin air, as if it had all been a bad dream.

"Was that the blood of you–know–who?" Gareth asked Smirnoff, pointing at his sword as we stood on the grassy knoll.

The Russian nodded. "Let's get out of here..."

***
Chapter Eleven

Smirnoff has a sixth sense for finding pubs and bars \- which is amazing considering that he rarely imbibes alcohol (or so he tells us). At that moment, we all needed a strong drink or two. The closest watering hole was the appropriately named 'Camelot Pub'. When we first arrived, sweaty and thirsty, it was too early and the pub was not yet open; so we jumped a few hours forwards in time. We found a quiet area at the back of the bar where we could talk privately... we were all eager to hear Smirnoff's story.

"So?" Nik started... "What happened?"

"It was nothing... it's just what I do. I never talk about my business, you know that."

"Oh, but this is different! It happened fifteen hundred years ago – no–one's going to be looking for you now!" I pointed out.

He nodded his head. "Okay, but please, do not try this at home – it's not for children." He drank from his whisky glass. "I thought Medraut must have our equipment with him. For one thing, the sword is very unusual for those times – he won't have seen anything like that before. Not as special as the one Arthur has now, but still special. Also, the other things – the phones and the sprays would intrigue him. Anyway, my senses are very keen – they have to be for what I do – so it's easy for me to smell the pepper oil. I know this scent very well – I have used it many times. It disables a victim, and then it's easy to put him down.

"So I found the location of the scent. It was on the second floor of another building. I enter the room, and Medraut is sleeping on his own in a bed – a very big bed. You would not believe how huge this was! He could easily have three women with him all night... sorry Nikita." He paused to glance at my wife, then continued. "Fortunately, he had no women with him this time - that would have been messy; I do not like killing women unless I have to, unless my life depends on it, or my contract is a woman. Anyway, I saw a hessian bag on the floor with our things inside. So I quietly removed the sword and one of the sprays. Then without even having to think, I covered his mouth with a pillow using one hand, and with the other forced the sword firmly through his rib-cage and into his heart. It was very quick; but unfortunately some sort of attending lady – an old woman – must have heard something because she entered the room and screamed. I could have killed her, but that would have slowed me down; and anyway, she'd already screamed. So I used the spray in her face to disable her, then grabbed the bag and ran." He drained his glass and smiled. "Another drink anyone?"

As Gareth was buying a second round of drinks, Niki spoke to me. "So now that Medraut is dead, the legend will have to change, right?" She appeared to have recovered from the ordeal pretty quickly, which I was naturally very happy to see.

"Well, let's have a look," I said, connecting to the internet on my phone. It only took a few minutes to locate the information I needed. "Oh!"

"What is it?" Nik asked.

"It says that Arthur had Medraut executed at Camelot for having an affair with Guinevere! Arthur was mortally wounded at the battle of Camlann – as before – but not by Medraut. His body was taken to Avalon." Gareth suddenly perked up.

"Joe, Glastonbury Tor is not far from here!" our friend observed enthusiastically. "In Welsh we call this 'Ynys yr Afalon'... The Isle of Avalon!" he beamed.

"So you mean that Arthur was buried in Glastonbury?" I asked in amazement.

"Not just Arthur – Guinevere too. The coffins of the King and Queen where discovered at Glastonbury Abbey in the twelfth century. Well, that's what I remember from school... it was written in a book by Gerallt Gymro." Gareth related.

"Now you tell us!"

Gareth looked sheepish. "Sorry, I've only just remembered..."

"Gareth's right!" smiled Nik, reading from a webpage on her phone. "Gerald of Wales wrote that two years previously the abbot of Glastonbury Abbey, Henry de Sully, commissioned a search for King Arthur's tomb in the graveyard, during which they discovered at the depth of sixteen feet a massive hollowed oak trunk containing two skeletons. One was of a man with a damaged skull, and the other a set of smaller bones with a scrap of yellow hair. The coffin lay under a covering stone, with a leaden cross and a Latin inscription: 'Here lies interred the famous King Arthur on the Isle of Avalon!"

"Interesting! So presumably the skeletons were removed?" I observed.

"Right – but later. In 1278 the bones were 're–interred in a black marble tomb and placed inside the Abbey before the high alter.'"

"Then what happened?"

"Henry the Eighth is what happened!" our Welsh friend chipped in.

"Gareth's right!" replied Niki. "During his reign, Henry destroyed all the monasteries, every single one. Dissolved, looted and destroyed. Cromwell sent his agents to Glastonbury Abbey in 1539 to strip out all the valuables – including the remains of Arthur and Guinevere. The Abbot, Thomas Whyting, resisted their attempts, and was subsequently hung, drawn and quartered on Glastonbury Tor. Well, that's what the history books say."

"Nice. They didn't mess around in those days, did they?"

"So what's your plan now Joe?" asked Smirnoff.

"Let's go and see what we can dig up at Glastonbury Abbey... hopefully we'll find our king and queen."

The Abbey was only sixteen miles from the Camelot Pub, and we got there in thirty minutes. Glastonbury Tor was clearly visible as we approached the town, and we could see how the Tor would have been an ideal look–out station for Arthur and his army at Camelot.

The Abbey itself was a ruin – as we expected from Nik's description of the dissolution of the monasteries – and is now just a tourist attraction. We parked our vehicle in the large adjoining car–park and took a look around the site. As we walked amongst the tourists, I thought how much these people would like to see the remains of King Arthur and his Queen Guinevere. Perhaps we could make that happen.

We found our way over to a plaque marking the location of their grave. It read:

'Site of Arthur's tomb. In the year 1191 the bodies of King Arthur and his queen were said to be found on the South side of the Lady Chapel. On 19th April 1278 their remains were removed in the presence of King Edward I and Queen Eleanor to a black marble tomb on this site. This tomb survived until the dissolution of the Abbey in 1539.'

So the remains of Arthur and Guinevere had been dug up and moved to the location where we now stood. For more than 260 years, the tomb lay within one of the Abbey buildings, but was then destroyed (along with much of the Abbey) in 1539. As we surveyed the area, Smirnoff suggested time jumping to when the coffin was removed from the graveyard to inside the Abbey – that is April 19, 1278. That way, we wouldn't have to dig down sixteen feet to get to it. He's smart this Russian.

*

We sat in our car and waited until people had left the Abbey. (Yes, I know... we could have simply time leapt forward, but it was only a few hours to wait). As soon as it grew dark, we changed into our period costumes. Okay, these were designed for sixth century Britain, but it was better than the jeans and T–shirt I was wearing.

We set our phones to April 18, 1278, thinking that the coffin would be brought to the surface the day before it was moved; and we really, really wanted to avoid bumping into King Edward I and Queen Eleanor. However, although there was some activity around the graveyard (people bringing in chairs, tables and red carpets), nobody was digging up any graves. And after jumping forwards in one hourly intervals, we gave up. Plan B was to jump to April 19 the same year. Choosing eight o'clock in the morning, we found ourselves within a large crowd of people, queuing up to get a glimpse of the King and Queen when they arrived at the Abbey. There were guards and soldiers everywhere – this was no good at all. It was looking like we'd have to wait until the bones were entombed within the marble sarcophagus. Then Gareth said:

"We can take it out of their hands."

"Take what out of whose hands?" I asked.

"Take the coffin from the hands of the people who'll put it in the marble tomb," he replied. "Let them dig it up for us first, then we just grab it!"

"You mean, actually steal Arthur and Guinevere from under the nose of Edward the first, with thousands of people watching?"

"Yes."

This seemed like a mad plan to me, so I looked at Niki and Smirnoff for their reactions.

"It's a good idea... the best way," Smirnoff confirmed.

"Sounds good to me," smiled Nik.

I looked into their eyes: they were both serious. It was difficult to concentrate with all these people milling around, but maybe it wasn't such a mad idea after all. It was certainly going to be dangerous.

"Okay," I said at last, "Gareth and I will grab the bones as they're taking them to the tomb. Niki can be ready with her phone to get us out of there, and Smirnoff will wait nearby with my phone – just in case anything goes wrong."

I was suddenly aware of people listening to our conversation, so we moved away to a quiet area close to the perimeter of the Abbey.

"One thing though, how do we know the exact hour, the exact minute they'll arrive with the bones?"

"Trial and error," Smirnoff replied. 'Trial' sounded okay, but I didn't like the error part: errors can get you killed.

"Why don't we ask them?" Nik said, pointing towards all the people gathered around waiting for the ceremony to begin.

"You mean, ask them what time the coffin will be lifted?" She nodded. "Good idea... how would you like to do that, Gareth?" I asked.

"Me? Why me?" our friend asked nervously.

"You can speak English and Welsh – they should understand one of those languages in the twelfth century. And anyway, I thought you came here for the adventure?"

He agreed to try to find out, and looked for a friendly face. Just a few minutes later he returned beaming. "The excavation of the bones begins at nine o'clock, and the ceremony inside the church is expected to start at eleven!"

We returned to our present time, and fished some food and coffee out of the vehicle. Whilst we were refreshing ourselves, we went over the plan. Within the Abbey, four of us would time leap to April 12, 1278, one week before the ceremony was due to begin. Gareth, Niki and I would enter the part of the Abbey which contained the marble tomb, and find a suitable hiding place. We would then time jump to 10:30 am on April 19 (one week later) and time the whole ceremony. We had to get this exactly right to succeed. Having got the timings, we would jump back, grab the bag of bones, and immediately time jump out of there. Meanwhile, Smirnoff would be outside standing guard – ready with his dagger and my mobile, if needed.

In the present time, we took up our positions in an area which we knew to be open ground during the month of April, 1278. Then the four of us jumped to 10:30 am on the twelfth of that month. Two monks must have seen us arrive: one fainted, and the other began backing off, chanting something in Latin. Three of us moved quickly and carefully to the main part of the Abbey containing the marble tomb and found a good place to hide, adjacent to the High Altar. Meanwhile, Smirnoff stood on guard outside. We were within a part of the Abbey that was a complete ruin in our own time, but in 1278 was in pristine condition. From where we were, we would have a clear view of the King's remains being brought through the main doors and up to the High Altar. There was only one possible route.

Next, whilst still in our hiding place, Nik set the date to exactly one week later, and we jumped. Nik's eyes popped open wide. Suddenly, the whole chapel was packed full of people, and we were afraid someone would see us. Fortunately, though, all eyes were on the main doors, through which the remains of Arthur and his Queen would be carried.

As we waited, Niki was timing everything on her phone, with Gareth making notes. Outside, we could hear speeches, one of which we guessed was by the King. There was applause, followed by footsteps. Soon, we could see a train of people enter the church. It was now 10:35 am. As the time moved towards 11:00, guests were still entering the Church, and I could feel my heart beating fast. Outside, Smirnoff (now in the same time–zone as us) had his pepper spray and dagger ready in his hands. Suddenly, we could see the King and Queen arrive. This was amazing... we were actually looking at King Edward I of England and his wife Queen Eleanor! We really wanted to take photographs, but it was just too risky. This was Edward Longshanks, the first son of Henry III, the leader of one of the Crusades to the Holy Land, and first English king to try to crush both the Welsh and the Scots. And he was standing very close to us now.

Nik looked at her phone. The King and Queen had taken their places at the head of the church, as the skeletal remains of another king and queen were being brought in. It was very close to 11:00 am now. At exactly two minutes to the hour, the coffin was walked past the position where we were hiding, so Niki now knew the precise time we needed to grab the remains. We then jumped back in time one week and found Smirnoff, who had also jumped back to our prearranged date.

"That was awesome!" she gushed. Nik told Smirnoff what the coffin looked like, how many people were holding it, and in which positions. "I know I shouldn't have, but it was the second before we jumped back... so I got this."

She showed us the photograph she'd taken of the two monks ceremoniously carrying the coffin, which looked like an old tree trunk.

"Unbelieveable!" Gareth exclaimed. This was definitely one photograph we'd keep forever.

Niki, Gareth and I assumed our positions within the Church, and Nik got ready to set the time to 10:57 am on April 19, 1278. We were sitting exactly where we had been before. "Let's do it!" I said, and Nik pressed Go on the app.

The Church was full again, and the priests carrying the bones were very close to us now. Gareth and I snatched the coffin out of their hands so quickly they had no chance to say or do anything. I looked at Niki to get us out of there, but she was having trouble with the phone.

"Now would be good!" I hissed.

"It's jammed!"

"Nik!!! It's got to be now!"

A guard grabbed my shoulder with a big hand, and another was reaching over to get Niki.

"I'm sorry Joe..."

***
Chapter Twelve

Getting caught by guards was getting a little bit too much now. The three of us were arrested and locked in a room within the Abbey whilst they completed the ceremony. Fortunately for us, we didn't see Edward Longshanks again – he certainly would not be pleased with what we just tried to do. Niki was desperately upset by all this, and I just wanted to get her out and make everything right again; but how? And where was Smirnoff?

That afternoon we were put in some sort of horse–drawn prison cart, which headed onto the main road. I saw a milestone mentioning London, so presumably that was where they intended to take us. To the Tower for questioning, perhaps? Niki and Gareth were very quiet. It was a hopeless situation without our mobile phone, which the guards had taken from us, and none of us wanted to speak.

We must have been travelling for about an hour when I heard what sounded like a car horn. I looked through the bars of the small window to see Smirnoff driving our vehicle. That crazy Russian – how we were glad to see him now! I motioned to Nik and Gareth to look. Smirnoff was accelerating like an F1 driver, and soon overtook the cart. He stopped in front of the horses with a screech, and got out of the vehicle. He was carrying a semi–automatic weapon, which he pointed at the guards.

"Let them out – now!" he shouted. The guards just looked at him. Then two charged him with their swords. He fired his gun in the air, just above their heads, and the guards ran for cover. "Stand back!" he instructed us, aiming his rifle at the lock on our cage. It broke easily, and he helped us out of the back. "Quick, in the car – before the cavalry arrive."

We drove a few miles along the main road, and then onto a country lane. Smirnoff stopped the vehicle and smiled. "Anyone want to go to the twenty–first century now... or do you want to stay here and have tea with King Edward?"

"Twenty–one was always my favourite number," I replied.

We all held tightly onto a part of the vehicle whilst Smirnoff changed the date back to our normal time period. It was good to be back home.

"What's that Smirnoff?" Nik asked, pointing to a wooden box in the back of the van.

"Well... what does it look like?" he asked.

"It looks to me like the tree–trunk coffin we almost rescued at the Abbey," she replied.

Gareth opened the coffin to find it was exactly that: the remains of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere.

"Then, how did you...?"

He held up his new mobile in one hand – the one I had given him – and shook it in front of us. "Time travel, ladies and gentleman, time travel. You should try it!"

*

There was only one place we could take the bones of the former King and Queen of England: to Avalon. As Gareth had previously told us, Glastonbury Tor was named 'The Isle of Avalon' by the Ancient Britons, and so we just had to take Arthur's remains there.

The Tor was very close to Glastonbury Abbey, and we could be there within ten minutes. Our plan was to place the bones in the Crypt of Saint Michael's tower, which stood on top of the Tor. The tower was all that remained of St. Michael's church after the Dissolution of the Monasteries in 1539, when the majority of the church was demolished – following the destruction of most of the Abbey. Niki had discovered that Glastonbury Tor had been purchased by a man called Richard Hoare in 1786, and he had the tower repaired sometime during 1804. The tower had been badly neglected and was certainly in need of repair. Hopefully, we could put Arthur and Guinevere in a place that would only be discovered by Mr Hoare.

We were all very weary now, both mentally and physically, but needed to complete this last task for Arthur and Guinevere. We climbed to the top of the Tor, enjoying the view over Glastonbury. There was nobody around, so Smirnoff found a way to access the foundations of the tower, where we placed the wooden coffin containing the remains of the royal couple. Smirnoff and Gareth then covered the coffin with stone slabs, so no casual passersby would find it.

We sat on the top of the Tor looking over that area of Somerset, reflecting on quite an adventure. We had met the legendary King Arthur, stayed the night at Camelot (albeit in a cell), encountered King Edward I, and returned the remains of the King and Queen to their rightful resting place on Glastonbury Tor, the mythical Isle of Avalon. Now it was time to go home.

***

Chapter Thirteen

After returning to the present, Smirnoff drove Gareth back to Nottingham and us back to London. We had spent several days travelling around England in three different centuries, but we still managed to get Gareth back home without missing a single day's work! The wonders of time travel. We promised to keep in touch, and waved him goodbye as we sped back towards North London. We needed a long rest after this trip.

*

The weeks rolled by. Niki didn't want to even hear the words time travel - and I was beginning to think she'd never want to go to any past or future destinations with me again. I had to admit it had been dangerous, but we'd got through it unscathed in the end. Still, I thought it best not to broach the subject for a while.

Then one morning we had a surprise visit. Niki was looking out the dining room window and saw two women facing the house.

"Joe – you won't believe who's standing on our front lawn!"

"It's not King Arthur, is it?"

"No–no... come and see for yourself."

I went to the window and saw two of the women we met in AD 50,000 – Miranda and Crystal! They had previously told us they'd like to visit our time period, and here they were. Niki went outside and invited them in.

"Hello you two, ni hao!" they smiled as they almost glided into our living room.

I wondered how they'd managed to find where we lived, and Miranda reminded me that our address was on my mobile phone – the one they 4D printed. We gave them some herbal tea, and sat down in the lounge with them.

"Zai Lundun, nimen xiang kan dao shenme? (What would you like to see in London?)" Niki asked. Apart from talking to her parents, she had little chance to speak Chinese in the UK, so welcomed the opportunity to do it now.

"We would like to see how your government works. You told us that men and women govern equally in your time, and we would like to witness this in action – and perhaps learn from it."

"Well, it looks like a visit to the Houses of Parliament is in order," I observed.

*

It was a nice Spring day, and Nik suggested we took the local bus to Westminster. As we travelled down Finchley High Street, I asked the women about their first impressions of the Capital.

"It's old, dirty and very polluted. The transportation is noisy, smelly and very primitive. And people look old, wrinkled and unhappy. That is my first observation," replied Miranda, adding with a smile: "But I am glad we are here."

"That's the London we love," Nik said, returning her smile.

We arrived at the Houses of Parliament and queued up to enter the House of Commons for the morning session. The two women were busy talking to each other in their own language, making mental notes about their experience. I noticed them blinking quite a lot, so I asked if they needed sunglasses. Perhaps the Sun was too strong for their eyes?

"Thank you Joe, but no need. We are just imaging: taking what you call 'photographs'.

Niki and I looked quizzically at each other, and then she got it.

"You mean, you take photographs just by blinking?" Niki asked.

"Yes, naturally," replied Crystal. "We noticed you have this facility on the time travelling device; but we do not understand how you transfer the images to your memories."

It seemed that their brains had developed a long way ahead of ours. Their eyes could work as capturing devices for pictures, which were somehow stored in their brains.

"Well," I said at last, "we can't do what you do – no–one can in our age. So we use either a cable or Wi–Fi to send the photographs to a computer, or to our friends. I guess our brains are not developed enough yet to do what you can."

We had moved to the front of the queue by this time, and had to pass through the body scanners. Fortunately, there were no problems with our guests, though I did notice quite a few people staring at them. They really did stand out compared to the general populace, I had to admit. For one thing, their skin was absolutely perfect, as if it was fine porcelain and their dress was like nothing seen before in our age. They glowed in different colours with an electric vibrancy which was difficult to ignore. They looked like an alien race, and I suppose, in a way, that's what they were.

We soon moved along the corridor, and up some stairs, making our way through Westminster Hall and into another queue for the House of Commons. Eventually, it was our turn to enter the famous Chamber, where it was Prime Minister's question time. Niki quietly pointed out which one was the Prime Minister, and which were her cabinet members. As the women watched, I noticed them both pressing points at the side of their eyes and ears on occasions.

"What d'you think they're doing?" I whispered to Nik.

"I don't know... maybe zooming in visually... like on a camera."

"Or increasing the volume?" I suggested.

If this was correct, we were witnessing a considerable leap forward in human development.

At the end of the session, we quietly exited the Parliament buildings. We were eager to know if our guesses about what the women were doing were right.

"Yes, you are correct Joe," Crystal replied. "But not only that: we were also recording the events. Our friends and colleagues will be most interested to experience this themselves."

We learned later that one short blink captured a 'photograph', and one long blink started or stopped the video.

Thinking that we really should get some lunch, Nik asked them what they'd like to eat.

"Fish and Chips," responded Miranda with a smile. "We understand that this is a traditional dish in this country for this time period, and we have never eaten fish before."

"Never eaten fish!" Niki replied in disbelief.

"No. Due to the pollution of the rivers and seas in ancient times, no sea life survived after the upheavals. Fish has not been eaten by our people for millennia. Some attempts were made in past times to replicate fish from micro-organisms discovered in the oceans, using our technology; but it was not liked by our kind. However, we plan to take some living sea-life back home with us so that we can breed fish species once again."

We headed for the nearest fish and chip restaurant, and showed the women the menu. They talked in their own language, discussing each dish and translating from English. The term 'Battered fish and chips' baffled them.

"Why would the restaurant 'batter' the fish Niki?" Crystal asked.

"To make it taste better. They batter it, then deep fry it in a lot of oil."

"But batter means to hit repeatedly, is that not correct?" asked Miranda.

We both laughed. "Yes, that's one meaning," I replied. "But in this case it means to cover in a mixture of flour, salt and water – and sometimes egg."

The women discussed amongst themselves again. Then Crystal said, "By 'egg', do you mean the unborn foetus of a chicken or similar animal?"

"Ah, I see where you're coming from," I said, smiling. "Well, I'm sure they can omit the unborn chicken foetus."

Nik ordered four portions of fish and chips, and we settled down to discuss Prime Minister's question time.

"It was interesting," Miranda began. "We were pleased to see that your overall leader is a woman. But we noticed that the leader of what you call 'the opposition' was a man. What chance does he have of becoming the leader of your country when he is disadvantaged by a great lack of intelligence and skills for this position?"

"I'm sure the government would agree with you!" I quipped.

"Precisely. Also, you told us that ordinary people vote for what you call 'members of parliament'; but only thirty–two percent of these members are women. Does this mean that some women actually vote for men?"

"Unbelievable, but true," I replied with a smile.

"Interesting," observed Miranda. The two women talked amongst themselves as they tackled their fish and chips. Nik showed them how to squeeze the lemon onto the fish, apply salt and vinegar, and use a knife and fork.

"Sorry, this dish can be quite oily," Niki apologized.

"Is this the same oil as people use in their motor vehicles?" Crystal asked. We both burst out laughing.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"No – we are just experimenting with your twenty-first century humour," she replied. "We know you are both experts in this type of humour. Why else would you bring us to this place and tell us it is a restaurant?"

They both smiled at us, and I found myself warming to them.

*

It was a very interesting experience spending a day in London with two people from 50,000 years in the future. After lunch, we took them on an open–top London tour bus around the capital and viewed Buckingham Palace, the River Thames, the Tower of London and one of the universities. It was quite a day.

***
Chapter Fourteen

The next two weeks passed quickly. We caught up with the things we'd neglected: me with my writing, and Niki with her artwork. We had dinner out a few times, but mostly ate at home. We had early nights – apart from one evening at the cinema to see the new King Arthur movie, which was nothing like the real story (we know, we were there). As we arrived home after the film, I said: "Doesn't that make you want to go back and do it all again?"

"It's over Joe," she said putting her coat away, without even looking at me.

"What's over?"

She turned to face me. "Time travel: I've had enough. It was really dangerous in ancient Britain... we could have been locked in that cell forever - we could have died!" She returned the copy of my phone I'd given to her.

"Aw, don't say that! It's the best thing ever! Most people would give their right arm to travel through time..."

"I'm not most people, Joe, and I don't want to lose my right arm or any other part of my anatomy! It's too dangerous."

I could understand what she was saying: being arrested by guards, getting locked up in a cell by a maniac prince, being chased by soldiers with swords and arrows, and finally being arrested by King Edward's men for attempted theft wasn't particularly nice. Not your regular package holiday. But time travel isn't all like that.

"Okay Nik, I hear you, and I don't want to go through all those dangers either. But it doesn't always have to be like that – there are safe trips we can make. How about we go to China – travel back to the time of Confucious; you've always said that was an amazing time in China's history."

"Joe, have you really forgotten our last episode in ancient China? You nearly got us all killed! Surely you remember me damaging my ankle, and then soldiers with crossbows shooting arrows at us? I really wanted to stop time travelling after that, but I knew how much it meant to you."

Yes, we had travelled two thousand years back in time to see the building of the tomb of Emperor Qin Shi Huang (the first emperor of China), and that was nearly the end of Niki, her cousin Magic and me. I had pushed it out of my mind, but the memories suddenly came flooding back.

I decided to leave Nik to cool off. I could understand how she felt, and obviously I didn't want to put her in danger again. Of course, I could always go on a trip on my own; but we had a pact never to time travel alone. So if Niki would not travel, neither would I – however much I wanted to.

*

A week later, I received an email from Gareth. He said how brilliant the trip to ancient Britain was, despite the danger; and if Nik and I were travelling again, please keep him in mind. I emailed back straightaway.

"Where would you like to go?"

"Atlantis," he replied.

I sat back and smiled at the screen. Perfect. I knew Nik wouldn't want to go on another time trip just then, so I asked her if she would mind if I went with Gareth. She didn't.

"I hope you understand Joe – why I'm not going with you, I mean. I'm getting somewhere with my paintings... I want to spend some time on that. I'm not saying I'll never do it again, but it's too soon after the last trip. Hope you understand."

I nodded, and didn't try to push another trip with her – not yet anyway. Instead, I tried to contact Smirnoff to see if he was up for a trip to the mythical Atlantis. I phoned several times on the special number he gave Niki, and left messages. But I couldn't get hold of him. In the end, I decided it would just be the two of us – me and Gareth.

*

I invited my Welsh friend down to London one weekend so we could discuss our trip to Atlantis. It was over a month since our Arthurian adventure, and it was good to see him again. And he had a surprise in store for us.

"I've got some photographs to show you," he beamed.

At first I thought he was going to show us pictures from the Roman Fort near Huddersfield, or from Glastonbury. But no.

"What the...?"

"They're the skeletons of Guinevere and Arthur, aren't they?" Niki observed. Gareth nodded. "But where were they taken? I remember we took pictures outside, but these look like they're inside a building."

"Yes, you're right! I took these this morning before I came to see you," he smiled.

"You mean these were taken in London?" I asked.

"Not the British Museum!" gasped Niki.

"The very same!"

So our plan had succeeded: the bones had been found! Gareth showed us another picture – this was the information which accompanied the exhibit.

The remains of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere. Discovered in the foundations of St. Michael's Church, Glastonbury Tor in 1804 by Richard Colt Hoare during the renovation of the church tower. (Early 6th Century).

"That's incredible! It worked!" I exclaimed.

We sat back to take in what we were seeing. The legend of King Arthur was no longer a legend.

"It's a pity we can't give the museum copies of our photographs," Gareth said.

"Yes, that would be mind–boggling," I replied. "Of course, no–one would ever believe they were real."

"Let's see them again!" enthused Niki.

We stared at all the photographs we'd taken near the Roman Fort at Outlane, including one of King Arthur with Niki and me, one of Smirnoff handing Arthur his sword, and a group picture of us with Arthur and the knights at dinner. Then we gasped at the amazing photo Nik took of the coffin of Arthur and Guinevere being carried towards the marble tomb inside Glastonbury Abbey.

"That's the best," Gareth drooled. "Look, you can see King Edward I and Eleanor in the picture! Absolutely amazing..."

I watched Niki and saw how happy she looked. Perhaps she wasn't totally put off time travel after all. But I didn't want to suggest she accompany us on our new adventure; she needed time out from time travel just then.

"So let's talk about Atlantis," I said eventually.

"I'll make some coffee," Nik smiled, going towards the kitchen.

Gareth told me he'd already done a bit of reading about Atlantis, starting with the writings of Plato. The Greek Philosopher had written about the mythical kingdom in two books: Critias and Timaeus. Gareth said he'd read the English translations of both, which saved me the job. I sat back with my coffee whilst Gareth enthusiastically relayed what he'd learned.

"Atlantis was massive Joe... ginormous! It was a whole continent which covered a large part of the Atlantic Ocean. Plato said it was as big as Libya and Asia combined. But Asia didn't include what it does now. I mean, it didn't include China or Japan. Still, the Atlantean empire was pretty huge. Apart from the island, it included North Africa as far as Egypt, and Europe as far as Italy. It wasn't as big as Lemuria – that occupied the Pacific at that time. Well, that's another story. Anyway, Atlantis existed between 10,000 and 20,000 years ago, and it was up with us technologically; in some ways, even further ahead!" This caught my interest.

"Really? In what way?"

Gareth suddenly became a little defensive.

"Well, this information isn't actually from Plato..."

"Where's it from then?"

"Er, urm... psychics."

"Psychics! You're giving me information based on the gobble–de–gook ideas of psychics!" I saw Gareth's face fall. I was maybe a tad hard on him. Maybe. "Sorry Gareth, that was out of order... continue please."

"No, I think you're right Joe – we should just look at the science..."

"No–no–no! If we just looked at science, it wouldn't be possible to time travel!"

"That's true," he admitted. "Well, for one thing, the Atlanteans were able to cut and lift very heavy objects using only sound. I mean, really big objects. And they had flying machines powered only by natural crystals..."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! My mind was suddenly thrown back to our trip to Ancient Egypt several years ago. We were looking for the builders of the great pyramids, and travelled back 12,000 years in time. But the people we found were not Egyptian – they pre–dated that race by thousands of years.

"Gareth – don't go away – I must show you these..." I went to my computer to find the photographs we took of the cutting and lifting of solid granite stone blocks weighing several tons – entirely done by the use of sound. "Come and have a look."

Gareth eyes nearly popped. And when I told him where and when we'd taken these photographs, he was astounded.

"But, but... that's absolutely amazing!"

"Well, if you think that's amazing, wait 'till you see this!"

I showed him the photographs and video we shot of flying machines using the sloping sides of the Giza pyramids as take off ramps."

"Oh, now you've got to be kidding! Are these for real?"

I nodded. "Twelve thousand years ago in Egypt."

Then I told him about Crimson, the amazing being we'd met at what appeared to be some sort of airport by the side of the Giza pyramids. Niki had described her as one of the Boskop people, an extinct race of beings with large craniums (and presumably larger brain sizes) that lived ten to thirty thousand years ago. Some ancient skulls of these people were found in South Africa, in an area called Boskop, in 1913. Crimson made a connection with Niki on a very deep soul–level, and afterwards she understood our culture and could speak our language. We promised we would return to Crimson's world one day, and perhaps now we had the opportunity to do so.

Just then Niki emerged from our bedroom.

"Joe, I just heard you talking about Crimson. If you're going back to see her again – I must come with you."

***
Chapter Fifteen

So it was all arranged. The three of us would travel to the Giza pyramids in Egypt in two weeks' time, which would coincide with Gareth's holiday from work. I'd kept a record of the exact date and location we time jumped from Cairo before, so (hopefully) we'd be able to meet Crimson at the same time and place by subtracting 12,000 years from that date (easy when you know how). After spending time with Crimson, the plan was to travel to Atlantis – possibly by using one of the flying machines we saw in Giza, if Crimson could arrange that. Twelve thousand years in the past should be a good time to visit the lost continent – mainly because the island was said to have disappeared under the ocean around ten thousand years ago. We really didn't want to find ourselves leaping into the Atlantic Ocean, so we were happy with a leeway of two thousand years.

According to Plato, the Atlanteans had a 'great and wonderful empire', which was maintained by their 'military skill'. The heart of the empire was the city of Poseidonis, located at the centre of the main Island and on top of a great mountain. The name of the city was derived from the name of one of the first kings to rule their land, and Atlantis was managed by a confederation of kings. All was well until one day, ten thousand years ago, when violent volcanoes, earthquakes and tsunamis caused the whole continent to sink below the waves in a single day and night. Or so the story goes.

By now, I was much more sensitive to Niki's feelings about getting involved in any time travel even remotely hazardous, so I made it very clear that she could leave for home anytime she needed to. We both possessed time travelling mobile phones now, which gave her some independence. She appreciated the thought, and said she would probably return home after catching up with Crimson – if her mobile phone worked this time.

I had no idea why her phone didn't work on our last trip. I tried it out several times after that, and there was no problem time travelling. We could only conclude that being a 4D copy, it wasn't perfect. Or perhaps it wasn't possible to change time zones that rapidly. We did, after all, attempt to jump backwards and then forwards in time within less than thirty seconds!

The next two weeks were used to put together everything we thought we'd need for the trip. We also booked our flights to Cairo and three nights in a hotel, as we'd done on our previous visit to the Egyptian capital. We travelled First Class, as usual, and stayed at the Meridien Pyramids hotel in Giza, with a bird's–eye view of the three giant pyramids on the Giza plateau. At one time, we would only book one night in a hotel, then jump back twenty–four hours and stay the same night again – just to save money. But this began to mess up our body–clocks – and there was no need to be penny–pinching with the lottery winnings which were now rolling in.

*

The day of our departure came around quickly. Gareth had arranged to meet us at Heathrow, so we took a car to the airport, and went through the usual rigmarole of air–travel. Much more troublesome than time travel, I have to say. Our man was looking perky.

"Joe, Niki – great to see you! Can't wait to time travel again!"

"Time travel? What's that?"

"You're so funny Joe! Actually, I wasn't sure what sort of clothes to pack for the trip, so I've brought these..." He opened his case and showed us his outfit."

"Oh, nice..." We weren't really sure what to say about the Star–Trek outfit which met our eyes.

"What d'you think?"

Nik and I just stared at the maroon and black suit, with the Star–Trek logo. Then when he started doing the Vulcan finger greeting, that was just too much.

"Live long and..."

"Yes, yes... got it Gareth... very 'out there'," Niki grimaced, suddenly feeling very glad that she'd be leaving us after seeing Crimson again.

We went to check in our luggage at the airline desk. I'd bought Gareth a first–class ticket so we could sit together, which he appreciated.

"I don't suppose you brought your Star–trek pyjamas with you Gareth?" I asked.

"Oh no, I never thought of that! Perhaps I can buy some in the duty–free?"

"Oh, sorry, time for us to check in now."

After queuing for an age, we finally went through the usual security procedures, and found three seats in the departure lounge to wait for our flight. It wasn't long before it was time to board the large plane, and we took our seats at the front. Gareth found himself sitting next to an Egyptian lady, who turned out to be the musical director of a theatre company who were working on the production of a musical play in Cairo called 'Egyptian Days'. I wondered if in the future someone would make a musical about our time travelling adventures!

The flight time from Heathrow to Cairo was just under five hours, and we arrived at 10:40 pm that evening. We took a taxi to our hotel in Giza, and were all ready for bed by the time we arrived. After checking in, we said goodnight to Gareth and turned in. We would need all the rest we could get for our adventure the next day.

***
Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, Gareth was nowhere to be seen. At first, we thought he had either slept in, or was already at breakfast. But as we entered the dining room, Niki spotted him standing outside the hotel, gazing towards the pyramids. He did rather stand out in his Star Trek outfit.

"It's an amazing sight, isn't it mate?" I sighed.

"Sure is, Joe. And when you see them for real – not just the pictures – you know it must be true: aliens built them."

"Aliens?" Although I didn't share Gareth's belief in extra-terrestrials visiting the Earth, the civilisation that Nik and I had witnessed cutting and moving huge granite blocks would truly appear alien to our own society.

I walked back to the hotel with our friend and we joined Niki for breakfast.

"Have you spent any time inside Niki?" he asked her. She looked puzzled.

"Inside? You mean in prison?' She replied quizzically. Gareth laughed.

"No, of course not! Sorry, I mean inside the pyramids."

"Not yet – but I know Joe is keen to."

"We could always take a look inside after Atlantis – if there's time," I replied. "But from what I've read, there's not a lot in there... just a couple of large chambers and some passageways."

Over breakfast, we chatted about Atlantis and what we expected to find there. Gareth was clearly very excited about what he was going to see. For us, this was going to be the first time we'd repeated part of a trip, and we didn't know for sure that everything would be exactly the same as we'd found it before. I knew it should be the same; but what if our previous visit had caused some change in the space–time continuum?

We finished our coffees and returned to our rooms to pack for the trip. We took some food, water, waterproofs, warm clothes, flashlights, battery chargers for our phones, sunblock, sunglasses and a couple of penknives – the swiss army variety. Finally, we were ready. Nik and I joined Gareth at reception and waited for the shuttle bus to the Pyramid Plateau.

It wasn't long before we reached the ancient wonders, and we left the bus to marvel once again at these immense structures. We took a good look around before heading for our jump site. Nik had remembered the exact location from where we time leapt last time. (I've no idea how she knew – it all looked the same to me!). I remembered it had been a good spot, though, because twelve and a half thousand years ago that part was a sort of park area which would hide us from view when we arrived.

Before we jumped, I warned Gareth about the huge 'wobble' we could expect when jumping so far back in time. We had calculated previously that we could experience a one second wobble for each 1000 years travelled. So that meant around thirteen seconds of shaking for this trip. Compared to our trip to AD 50,000, where we felt we'd almost been shaken to bits, this would be much more manageable.

Nik and I held on tightly to Gareth, him being the largest of the three of us, and I changed the date on my app.

"Ready?" Nik nodded and Gareth smiled, "Beam me up, Joe!"

*

The next thing I remembered was the change of scene. From what I could recall about our previous trip to the same place and time, everything was identical – apart from the fact that Gareth was with us this time, of course. Our Welsh Star Trek friend looked like he was in a trance as we walked towards a building structure – which we had previously learned was a sort of airport terminal.

Inside, the building was full of people in brightly–coloured clothes made of silk–like fabrics, and Gareth (boldly going where no Welshman had gone before) blended in very well. Well, better than me I should say. Knowing how people were dressed the last time we visited, Niki was wearing a beautiful blue and yellow silk dress this time, and looked radiant.

The problem now was to find Crimson. Last time, we had been arrested and some guards took us to her. We didn't particularly want to be arrested again, so we tried looking around the terminal building for any signs of our spiritual friend. I forgot for a moment this was all new to Gareth, and saw him exploring the building open–mouthed, seemingly in a daze. Then I heard a familiar sound outside.

"Gareth – the exit, now!"

"What is it?"

"Just follow me!"

I grabbed his arm, and pulled him in the direction of the sound, both of us running. I knew we were about to witness the launch of one of their flying machines – Gareth must see this! But running in the building was not a good idea, we soon discovered. Two guards stopped us in our tracks, blocking our exit. Niki, meanwhile, was still looking around the terminal for Crimson, and didn't see us. I shouted her name, but that was also a faux pas, resulting in the guards dragging us out of the terminal and towards a small building.

"Looks like we being arrested again," I sighed. Only this time, there was no Niki within sight.

We were taken to a place very similar to last time. Gareth wanted to take pictures, but I dissuaded him. Inside the structure, one of the guards talked to us in a language we did not know (naturally). As he was talking, I looked at the other guard and recognized him! He was one of the guards who arrested us last time. He caught my stare, and seemed to recognize me too. He talked quickly to the other guard, who nodded and left the structure. After about ten minutes, he returned with Crimson – and Niki!

"Well–well, what have we here!" smiled Nik.

"Very funny. But at least you've found Crimson."

"Welcome again!" Crimson smiled, then spoke softly but directly to the guards, who nodded and left the structure.

Niki introduced Gareth to Crimson, who smiled warmly at him.

"Very nice to meet you, miss," he smiled, offering his hand. She studied his outstretched arm with interest, then stared directly into Nik's eyes. No words were exchanged, but it looked like Crimson had asked Nik a question; and it seemed like Nik had replied – telepathically!

"Very nice to meet you, Gareth," she replied, gently and warmly taking his hand with both of hers. "In my culture, we connect with the soul, not the hands. The eyes are the windows of the soul."

"Yes, we have that expression in our language too," I said, wanting to impress.

"You have the expression, but not the understanding, Joe," she replied. "Perhaps your expression is a left–over remnant of a time when your people did understand the meaning."

"How come she can speak English?" Gareth whispered to me whilst Crimson was talking with Niki. "Did Niki teach her?"

Crimson turned and approached Gareth, whose natural reaction caused him to recoil. She smiled warmly, looking directly into his eyes.

"Sit, relax – I not hurt you. I only seek to understand your race, as you seek to understand mine." Our friend sat on a wooden stool nearby, then took a deep breath. "Close your eyes and open your mind," Crimson said softly, as she gently placed a finger from each hand on his temples, and another two fingers over his closed eyes. Gareth suddenly felt the connection. We watched as Crimson closed her own eyes and seemed to mentally meld with our Welsh friend. To the onlooker, it might have seemed they were having some sort of kinky sex... which I suppose is one type of connection. After about twenty minutes, Crimson opened her eyes and removed her hands from Gareth.

"Nawr rwy'n deall chi a'ch diwylliant chi," she smiled, to our amazement. Gareth appeared very relaxed.

"What did she just say?" I asked.

"She said, 'Now I understand your culture...' but you must have heard that, right?"

"She was speaking Welsh mate!"

"Whaaat! How is that possible?"

"Many things we don't understand are possible here," Nik replied.

"It's amazing! Can we stay here Joe?"

"What, forever?"

"Maybe..."

"Well, we did plan to see Atlantis..."

"You wish to travel to Atlantis – to the island?" Crimson asked.

"Joe and Gareth are hoping to see the mythical continent," Niki clarified.

"Mythical? What is this?"

"Oh, many people in our time don't believe it existed," I explained.

"You are indeed an interesting race! And you Niki – do you wish to to see the island of Atlantis?" Crimson asked.

"No – not this time."

"I understand. Your soul yearns for peace and harmony, not war and conflict. In Atlantis, only the latter exists. One day, it will disappear below the sea."

I was astounded! I asked Crimson how she could possibly know this.

"If you walk in the direction of that small pyramid, without deviation, you will eventually reach it," she said. "The only way you will not reach it is either by stopping your walk, or changing direction. That is how I know. The Atlanteans treatment of my people has been barbaric in the past. My kind have been used and abused by the Atlanteans for centuries. In one way, what will happen to them is their karma."

"Your people? You mean the people in this area, what we call Egypt?"

"No Joe," replied Niki, "Crimson means the people who originated from Lemuria."

***
Chapter Seventeen

Lemuria or Mu, as it was originally called, sunk below the Pacific Ocean around 25,000 years ago. However, many of its people – including Crimson's ancestors – emigrated to other lands a long time before it went down. Perhaps they had a sixth sense about the future of their continent? The Mu people were certainly radically different – physically and mentally – from other people on the planet at the time. After leaving their native Mu, many interbred with other races, notably with the Atlanteans; but other families managed to maintain more or less a pure Mu heritage. Crimson's ancestors were in that category.

From what Crimson told us, Atlantis was a very advanced society, in terms of science and technology. Conversely, the Mu people were far more artistically and spiritually inclined. Mu existed between 25,000 and 900,000 years BC, and at one time, both Mu and Atlantis co–existed peacefully on the planet. Mu's were adept healers, using light and energy to rebalance a person's 'chakra system'. Not only that, they were also shape–shifters – capable of changing or adapting their shape where necessary. They were highly advanced in these areas, and generously shared their understanding and knowledge – showing the Atlanteans how to use crystals to heal themselves and power aircraft. Through these means, the Atlanteans had travelled not just around the Earth, but to the Moon and many planets as well.

The Atlanteans envied the Mu's powers, particularly the ability to shape–shift, and by experimentation tried to extract their DNA and harness it for their own purposes, causing much suffering in the process. Mu's were imprisoned like lab–rats and horrendously mistreated – all in the name of Atlantean 'science'.

After spending several more hours with our Mu friend, during which Gareth was able to observe the local means of air travel and see the lifting and cutting of huge granite blocks using nothing more than sound, it seemed that we should re–think our plans to travel to Atlantis.

On one hand, what we had heard about the Atlantean people didn't change anything: if we wanted to experience Atlantis, then we should just go ahead and travel there. But, from Crimson's description, it did sound like a potentially dangerous trip – particularly for foreigners – and we certainly did not want to be locked up in a cell, sold into slavery or even murdered. Tourism has its limits!

"So what d'you think Nik?" I asked her, whilst Gareth was marvelling at the flying machines used by these people. "Should we go to Atlantis – Gareth and me I mean?"

She looked at me, calmly, lovingly, thoughtfully. I'd noticed how tranquil and relaxed Niki had been since reconnecting with Crimson. It was good for her – and good for me to see her like this. It appeared that she'd like to stay in this place forever.

"It depends on what you want to achieve over there, Joe."

I thought about that. For me, it was just curiousity – nothing more or less. It wasn't a case of changing events, putting things right, living a life–long dream or wanting an exotic vacation. I was simply curious about these people and what they had achieved.

"And how about Gareth?"

"I think pretty much the same as me – except that the 'life–long dream thing' is probably his main motivation."

"We should always follow our dreams, Joe – don't you think? And I did help you to realise your dream when we went inside the tomb of Qin Shi Huang..."

I impulsively hugged Niki and kissed her on the lips. "Thanks Nik – I know what to do now."

*

I found Gareth and Crimson sitting close to one of the pyramids. Their eyes were closed and both looked very relaxed.

"Hello Joe," Crimson smiled without opening her eyes.

"Hi Crimson... I wonder if I could have a word with Gareth?"

"Go ahead," Crimson replied, still with her eyes closed.

"In private?"

"There's nothing private here. Everyone knows everything about everyone else."

"Okay then," I replied, feeling a little uncomfortable. "Gareth, some good news: we can go to Atlantis!"

"Thanks for considering me, Joe, but I've decided not to go to Atlantis. Crimson's told me all about it. Actually, where we are now is Atlantis... it's part of the Atlantean Empire. So apart from seeing the capital city Poseidonis – which is just a big city like London – I've no reason to go. But please, go on your own if you like."

I must admit I felt rather put out by this. I'd gone out of my way to look after my friend, and it seemed like my kindness and consideration were being thrown back in my face.

"Well, okay Gareth – if that's how you feel. We can stay here for a while, and then just go home."

"Actually, I would like to go on a trip before we go back... I'd like to travel to Lemuria," he smiled, opening his eyes.

*

I realised that, of the three of us, I was the only one who had not mentally connected with Crimson – and that made me feel somewhat left out. A little like being at a party where everyone has downed a few drinks, and I'm still stone–cold sober. But anyway, going to see Lemuria was a fantastic idea. In our own time, little or nothing was known about the continent, and it sounded like an exciting trip.

According to what I'd read, Mu was originally located in the Pacific Ocean, and some say its landmass included Australia and New Zealand. It was a huge place, with a race of people similar to Crimson, who was one of their descendants of course. But because she was born thousands of years after the continent disappeared below the ocean, she had never been able to visit Mu herself. However, with the wonders of time travel...

Unlike the Atlanteans, the Mu people did not live in cities. Instead, they inhabited many small villages and lived simple lives, connecting with nature and each other through their highly developed intuition, intelligence and shape–shifting abilities.

To reach Mu, we would need to take three different flying machine trips. It was a long journey, and we would need to stop overnight a few times. From our current location (known locally as Tai'ro, apparently), we would fly to India. From there, we would take a second craft to the East of China. At that point, we would need to time leap back 15,000 years and somehow find the location of her original ancestors.

Later that day, as we were waiting to board our flying vehicle, I wondered how people paid for things there. Despite us having travelled more than twelve thousand years back in time, we were amongst people who appeared to be far more advanced than our own civilisation in many ways. Did they actually use money? I asked Niki this question.

"Money? No – not in the way we mean it," she explained. "According to Crimson, they have a system here where every service is paid for in credits."

"Okay... so how do they earn credits? By working I suppose?"

"Not exactly. Everyone is given credits whether they work or not. It's very different here Joe. There's no poverty, no shortage of food. The government allocates a fixed amount of credits to people irrespective of what they do. If people want to earn more credits, they can provide additional services to the community. But everyone has enough to live a fulfilling and healthy life without the need to work. And they have a free healthcare system similar to our NHS."

"Then how is everything paid for... by taxes?"

"Sort of. People voluntarily give ten percent of their income to the central administration, who then provide the credits and free services."

"And what if you don't want to give ten percent? I can't imagine that everyone would do it if they had the choice!"

"Then no problem. But why would people not want to give it? By giving that ten percent, you're giving to everyone – including yourself."

Crimson appeared, smiling.

"We can go now," she said. "Please follow me."

As we walked through a gate into another part of the terminal, I was thinking about the credit and voluntary tax system Niki had described. I really couldn't see it working in our own society, but I still wanted to learn more. We climbed into a cabin on some sort of rail–track. Crimson was sitting opposite me in the cabin and smiled.

"You seem a little... perplexed, Joe; please allow me." I nodded, and she reached over to touch the sides of my temples with her fingers. I immediately felt a warmth infusing my mind. "Close your eyes," she instructed. For the next few minutes, all my concerns and worries lifted like a mist. It felt like I was in another place – some sort of tropical rain forest or a garden – where all the troubles of the world did not exist. There was only Now, and in the Now nothing else mattered.

We soon arrived at the base of one of the pyramids and climbed out of the cabin onto a stone area.

"Joe, this is awesome!" Gareth could hardly control his feelings – he was so excited by the whole experience. "No passport control, no security check, no queues!"

A female in some sort of uniform opened a door, and we climbed into what must have been the craft that was going to take us to our first stop. The flying machine was very small, compared to our own passenger aircraft, and seem to hold just six people. Above our heads was a canopy, which appeared to be made of some sort of glass. The craft was on an incline at the base of the pyramid, pointing upwards at what I would guess was between forty and fifty degrees. A young woman, dressed in the same uniform as the other staff member, sat at the front of the craft. She was the pilot, apparently. As the canopy was lowered to seal us in from the outside world, she touched something on what seemed to be a control panel. I felt some vibrations below us, and a little warmth. The pilot spoke to Crimson, who translated her instructions for us.

"Please fasten the... belt.... across your legs, and hold the... arm–rests. We will take–off in few moments. You experience surge of... energy... as we... accelerate. Do not be concerned... this is... normal. Once in air, it will be very... comfortable."

We did as directed. The vibrations of the craft increased as it slowly moved up the slope at a forty–five degree angle to the ground.

"Oh, it's just like the fairground in Cardiff!" Gareth exclaimed. I didn't want to admit that I hated fairgrounds, but I was a bit concerned about our safety. However, my coping mechanism told me to just grin and bear it. Both Niki and Crimson had their eyes closed now, and seemed very relaxed. Meanwhile, Gareth and I wanted to see exactly where we were going.

With incredible speed, we suddenly surged towards the apex of the pyramid, flying fast and high towards the skies. Gareth and I gasped as the craft left the safety of the pyramid and soared high into the blue yonder.

"Wowww!" he exclaimed. "This is amazing!"

I remember when I was a student in Edinburgh, one of my friends had just passed his flying tests, and was licensed to go solo and pilot a single–engined aircraft. And for some reason, he invited me to be his first passenger! At first, I must admit to being rather apprehensive about the whole idea; but then I thought, 'Why not? Could be a great experience.' And it was. But a very different one from travelling in a large passenger aircraft, where you generally feel pretty safe, knowing you're sitting in a large, powerful plane, which mostly cancels out the air turbulance that effects smaller crafts. Such as the one I flew in with Mike. God, it seemed like you could feel every gust of wind! I remember thinking it was like flying on a kite; but I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, and never felt worried about suddenly crashing to Earth. And Mike was a very good pilot.

I thought of this as we flew through the skies on our way towards India: it was a very similar experience. Our height above ground was no more than eight hundred meters, so no need for oxygen. But how was this thing powered?

"Crystals," confirmed Niki.

"But how do crystals produce energy?" I asked.

"Some crystals have vibrations; the aircraft engine converts these to energy, which powers the craft. Quartz crystals in particular have high–energy vibrations..."

"I don't know where you read this stuff Nik!"

"Oh–oh–oh! I've just remembered!" Gareth suddenly exploded.

"You've forgotten your phaser gun?"

"No – I've remembered an article I read about the Great Pyramid... it was amazing! A team of scientists have discovered that the pyramid can concentrate electro–magnetic energy in its internal chambers, and under its base!"

"Wow... so maybe that's what gave us the boost at take–off..." I said, "and the crystals take over from there."

But Niki was more interested in another use for crystals which Crimson had told her about: healing. I couldn't really take it seriously though.

"Did she mention any particular types?" I asked.

"Well, Stellar Beam Calcite, for one," Nik replied.

"Stellar Beam Calcite! Oh, come on Nik! There can't be a stone called that! You mean we should go to the doctor and ask for a dose of Stellar Beam Calcite? You'll be telling me next that Star Trek is real! No offence Gareth."

Crimson heard our conversation.

"Joe, if you tell your people back home that you have travelled through time, and visited Lemuria – what will they say?"

I got her point.

***
Chapter Eighteen

It was an extremely long trip to India, and we were glad Crimson had brought some snacks to eat on the way. Actually, I'd never been to India before, but I reckoned the place we landed that day would bear no ressemblance whatsoever to the country people experienced in the twenty–first century.

Crimson had explained we would need two overnight stays – this one in India, and the other in East China. With no hurry to return home, this was fine with us. Gareth had totally forgotten about his job in England, and he was cool about the whole adventure. Meanwhile, Nik seemed happy that we'd opted for Lemuria rather than the island of Atlantis; she would not have gone there, given the possible dangers.

After landing in a field of some sort, the flying machine's pilot led the way to a small guesthouse, not far away. The closest you could compare it with in our own time would be a Youth Hostel. I wanted to pay for our accommodation, but there seemed to be no way to do that. Crimson seemed to sense my unease.

"It is alright Joe – everything taken care of. But if you wish to be useful, you may assist with preparing the food, or setting up the bedroom." Gareth and I said we'd help with the bedroom whilst Nik and Crimson prepared our meal.

If we were hoping for a big mac and fries for dinner, we were going to be disappointed: there was no meat to be seen. Niki was keen to know about Crimson's usual diet.

"Usually, it is my habit to eat food," she said straight–faced.

We all looked at her quizzically – wondering if she didn't understand the question, or was she being funny?

"You're kidding us!" Gareth exclaimed.

"Was it good?" Crimson smiled. "I wanted to replicate your humour – did it work?"

"Had me fooled!"

It was so amazing to experience this 'alien' human adapting to our culture in such a natural, funny way. Crimson translated the conversation to the pilot, whose name was 'Skid' (yes, I know – not the first name you'd want to name a pilot!), and she burst out laughing.

Niki still wanted to know more about their food. Were they all vegetarian? Or did some eat fish or meat? Crimson could not understand the question, so Niki allowed her to do the mind–scan connection she had done before. In her soft, silk–like voice, Crimson asked Niki to visualise her questions and focus on pictures. After five minutes, she sat back in her chair.

"That is... that is very interesting," she said almost breathless. "I had not realised the primitive nature of your kind." This time, she was not joking.

"What do you mean?" Nik asked.

"Well, it seems you 'grow' your fellow beings like we grow food. Then, when they are large enough – or sometimes before – you terminate their lives, and actually consume their bodies. And this is very common in your World?"

"Yes – it is the normal practice of most people in our World. But there are some we call vegetarians who do not do this."

I felt I needed to clarify something. "But Crimson, I have to say that we – Niki, Gareth and me – do not kill the animals. That is done by people who are paid to do this... professionals."

"So, you think that authorising the killing of your fellow creatures is better than having the blood on your own hands?"

I didn't know what to say – none of us did. In our own world, where pretty much everybody follows the same routine, the whole process of animal production and meat eating is so common–place and so normal that the majority of people just don't question it.

Then Crimson said: "It is late and we have another long journey tomorrow. I suggest we all rest now. Thank you for sharing more about your World with me."

***
Chapter Nineteen

That night, I had much on my mind. It was a shock to be called a primitive race by someone who lived twelve thousand years ago. And yet, experiencing the world of Crimson and Skid, I began to realise how primitive our own world truly was. Yes, we are technologically advanced: we've put men on the moon, invented radio, television, computers and smart phones; built the internet and launched a whole system of satellites for global communication. We use our natural resources to manufacture amazing technological devices and utilities which make life much more comfortable, enjoyable and labour–saving. And people live far longer and healthier than they did two hundred years ago.

But look at the cost: we've polluted our rivers and oceans; we've made the air unbreathable in some places; and we've littered our land, rivers and oceans with garbage, some of which will take thousands of years to degrade. We've even filled the space above our heads with all the unwanted communications junk we've left there, which could all come crashing down on our heads one day.

The sad fact is that we're destroying our planet at an alarming rate. So much so that scientists are now seriously considering colonising other planets for the time when, in the not–so–distant future, our own planet is unliveable. If scientists wish to irradicate all harmful viruses from our planet, they could do with starting with human beings: we are a potentially dangerous virus within the Cosmos; and if beings from other planets ever receive communications from us, they would do well to totally ignore them and keep their distance. When Crimson referred to our race as 'primitive', she could not have spoken a wiser truth. And now that we have the possibility of time travel, Crimson may well need to add the word 'dangerous' when describing twenty–first century humans. We must take care of this 'gift', and not allow it to fall into the wrong hands.

*

I awoke with the rising sun. Gareth was already outside surveying the scenery and I went to join him.

"Amazing, isn't it Joe? Just look at that!"

He was gazing across to a large pyramid structure not far from the guesthouse. It was nothing like as big as the Giza pyramid metropolis in Egypt we had travelled from, though there was what looked like a terminal building adjacent to the pyramid. It had been dark when we arrived, so we hadn't noticed the structures then.

"I guess that's our take–off ramp," I observed. "These pyramid ramps seem very efficient – no need for long runways."

"And easy to build – if you can move solid granite like they can!"

"So, do you think our own society is going forwards or backwards Gareth?"

"It's going nowhere, Joe," Nik smiled as she approached us. "Come inside and have some breakfast."

Whilst we ate, we discussed the next leg of our journey. From the way Skid described the landing site, Niki thought we'd be arriving in Shaanxi Province on the East coast of China, where many pyramids had been discovered near the city of Xi'an in our own time zone. Could these pyramids also have been used for flying machines?

*

It took us the best part of a day to arrive at the landing site in China. This was a much larger 'airport' than the one in India, comprising three large pyramids, many small ones and an assortment of buildings dotted around them. Plenty of people milling around too. It was similar in size to the Giza platform in Egypt.

We stopped off for a couple of hours whilst the powerful crystals were being recharged – presumably by the electromagnetic energy generated in the pyramids (which Gareth had spoken about). I was naturally interested to learn how to utilise these crystals to fly aircraft in our own time: just think about the vast saving of fossil fuels, and the huge reduction in pollution. But Skid and Crimson were keeping very secretive about it – and I got a very strong, non–verbal message to back off.

Instead, Gareth and I took the opportunity to stretch our legs and survey the area. We were both very interested in the pyramid complex, but Niki advised us against getting too close. We could not speak any of the local languages, of course, so if we were stopped by security guards, then what to do? We took her advice and watched the comings and goings of people, and the take-off and landings of flying machines, from a safe distance. It was truly amazing to observe what people in our time would consider to be primitive cave-dwellers using technology way ahead of that of our own civilization in many, many ways.

Gareth wanted to shoot some photographs and video of the scene from a safe distance, so I wandered around on my own for a while. Whilst the pyramid complex area was undoubtedly a busy place, one thing I'd noticed as we travelled on our journey was the lack of people. All we saw from the aircraft were just small villages or settlements, no towns or cities to be seen anywhere. I was therefore interested in knowing the population of the World in this time zone. Returning to the aircraft, I asked Nik what she thought it could be. She said she'd no idea, and suggested asking Crimson about it. Once she understood the question, the Mu was puzzled why we wanted to know.

"We are interested in comparing the number of people in your World today, with the number in our time zone," I explained.

"Joe, first this is not my World – I have no 'ownership' of it! In fact, we do not have ownership of anything in the land we occupy. If you own something, surely it means that it is with you forever, for all eternity? It is something you have earned, and it becomes part of you and travels everywhere with you."

"Such as our bodies?" I suggested.

"No! Certainly not our bodies! Like you, I only use the body to experience life on 'Earth', as you call it. When I pass on, my body returns to the soil. Do you take your body with you when you pass on?"

"Well, no... but I believe that death is the end of me too – I won't exist after I pass away."

"I see. I have heard some Atlanteans talk in this way. They have a very primitive way of thought on this matter, which has been corrupted by their attachment to things rather than to the Soul." She paused, then turned to Niki. "I know that you do not share Joe's view of life, sister."

"That's true – but we rarely talk about it; Joe and I have different perspectives."

"I hope I may visit your World one day and experience these different ways of thought for myself."

"You are always welcome Crimson," I said, meaning it. "It'll be good for you to see the primitive nature of people from our own time," I jested.

"Thank you Joe, but I have seen much of that already," she smiled as she walked away.

*

Before we returned to the aircraft to prepare for the final leg of our long journey, I showed Crimson the maps I had on my phone defining the positions of Atlantis and Mu (though with no reliable literature about its exact whereabouts, these could only be regarded as guesstimates at best). These maps showed Australia, New Zealand and New Guinea as being remnants of the Mu continent. As soon as Crimson saw one of the maps, she said it appeared to be quite accurate, although the positions of rivers and mountains she could not vouch for. And the place names had no meaning for her. Scanning the map more carefully, she suddenly pointed to an area to the west of what appeared to be the centre of the continent.

"There!" she exclaimed. "I am certain my ancestors originated from that location!" Her finger was pointing at a place called Thibi.

As we returned to the aircraft, Crimson was in deep conversation with Skid. They were studying my map very carefully, and their language appeared to be a mixture of words and gestures. After five minutes, Crimson beckoned us to join them.

The simplest plan, they thought, was to time travel whilst still in China, and then fly to Thibi directly. None of us knew for sure exactly how many years we would need to jump back in time, but our research suggested that Lemuria disappeared under the waves around 25,000 BC. So Niki suggested jumping back another 20,000 years from our current time, which would put us at 32,000 BC. We all thought we'd be pretty safe with that.

Gareth seemed to be the most excited of us all as we clambered into the flying machine. It was he, after all, who had suggested the trip to Atlantis and Lemuria in the first place, and now his boyhood dream was about to be realised. Hopefully.

After checking we were all settled in our seats, with our belts firmly fastened, I took out my phone and prepared for the time leap. This would be the first time we had jumped from an aircraft; but as it was stationary and on the ground, it should be the same as jumping from inside a four-wheeled road vehicle - which we'd done before, of course. Time travelling from the ground must be safer than attempting to jump from mid-air!

Our trip would take us to a land never observed before by people from the twenty–first century. Now, at last, we could see it for ourselves.

***
Chapter Twenty

If I was to write a book about our time travelling experiences, nobody would believe it. Even I have difficulty believing it myself at times! Whilst we experience the trips, I know it's real; but later – when I look back at our adventures – I think: 'Did we really just do that?' It often seems like a dream, once we're back home within our familiar London time zone. But now we were living the dream again.

"Ready everyone?" I asked. "Hold on tight then!"

We all made sure we had a physical connection with each other and the aircraft, and then I pressed 'Go' on the Date Me app. There was a gigantic wobble, and it took all our strength to hold on to the aircraft. After we'd all recovered from the jolt, we looked around. The landscape appeared very different. The entire pyramid complex had disappeared, for one thing, and we were suddenly in the middle of a torrential downpour. I did wonder how we would take-off without the ramps, but Skid explained that if the crystal batteries were sufficiently charged, we could easily take-off without them. As she started up the crystal engines, I felt the heat and power again as we taxied forwards.

Once airborne, it wasn't long before we left the coast of China, and we found ourselves flying over what we would call the East China Sea. We were naturally hoping to view land fairly soon, given that Lemuria should be located somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.

After just over two hours, I was about to suggest jumping another thousand years back in time, when Skid spotted something ahead of us. She spoke to Crimson excitedly, pointing in that direction.

We all gazed into the distance, through the rain.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It looks like mud–flats to me," replied Gareth, "like the ones near Cardiff." He was right. As we got closer, we could make out a vast expanse of mud–flats as far as the eye could see. This was a good sign... it probably meant that land was ahead of us.

Sure enough, after flying for another forty minutes, we could see land. Crimson suggested we put down the aircraft in a safe place as soon as we could. Skid followed her suggestion and skillfully landed the craft in some sort of grassland area. There was a lake nearby, and mountains in the distance. It certainly was a very tranquil and beautiful place.

Using our map of Mu, and the compass we'd brought with us, Gareth was able to estimate that we were around 2,000 kilometres away from Thibi. Our average speed in Skid's aircraft seemed to be that of a fast helicopter – in the region of 450 km/h. At that speed, it would take us about four and a half hours to reach our destination, he said.

Skid suggested we had a short rest in the area before the next part of the trip. Niki had brought some snacks and drinks which we could have whilst we relaxed. She noticed that Crimson had been very quiet since we first laid eyes on Lemuria, and went over to talk with her.

"Do you have any feelings about this place, Crimson?"

She smiled. "This is the difference between your race and mine. My people do not need to ask such a question because it is self–evident. We feel everything, and communicate our feelings without words."

Nik was a little taken aback at first, then she replied, "You're right. Actually, I knew I needn't ask this question... how could you not have feelings about your mother country!"

"Now you are using logic! We neither have the need for logic nor guesswork. Feelings are the language of the Soul, and that is how our kind communicate with each other. You should trust your feelings Niki – they are never wrong. And you have a great capacity for understanding other people – and yourself. Use that capacity."

Whilst the girls were in conversation, Gareth and I walked down towards the nearby lake. The water was crystal clear, and reflected the beautiful blue sky above, now that the rain had gone.

"Have you noticed the sun Joe?"

"Can't miss it mate!"

"I mean, have you looked directly at it?"

I turned my head towards the gleaming ball in the sky, getting ready to squint. But I didn't need to.

"Wow, that's amazing!"

"This is pure, unadulterated land, Joe... just as nature intended. I don't think there's much of that left where we come from. I'll be sorry to go home after this..."

I cast my eyes over the landscape: it was truly beautiful. Fruit trees grew freely in one area, and their fruit looked like Mangos. In another part, a little further on, we spotted banana palms. As we walked, I heard the gentle sound of streams of water nearby. And all around us, exotic–looking plants grew with multi–coloured flowers and intoxicating scents – richer than any man–made perfumes I'd experienced. I took a deep breath and drew in the wonderful air. Was this paradise?

"How I'd like to live here!" exclaimed Gareth.

"Well, you can!"

He shook his head. "It's a nice thought Joe..."

"Seriously... what's stopping you? You could build your own house, fish by the river, make your own wine..."

"Oh, a whole load of things. My job, family and friends, my hobbies... and I bet they don't have pubs here!"

I looked at my friend and smiled. "Maybe it's just not for us Gareth – not in this lifetime. Maybe there's other things we need to do." He nodded, and we walked back to join the others.

"Ah, the hunter–gatherers have returned!" exclaimed Nik. What have you two been up to?"

"Oh nothing much... just chatting. It's a paradise here Nik... you should take a look."

We loaded the plane with some of the fruit the girls had picked, and strapped ourselves in. Once airborne, we were all quiet for a while, and then Crimson said, "Yes, you are correct Gareth."

"Correct about what?" he replied, defensively.

"Mu girls are very attractive to look at." We stared at Crimson, and them back at Gareth. Was he blushing?

"You can read my thoughts... all my thoughts?"

"No, only thoughts you allow me to see. Any question that you wish to express, but for some reason are blocking yourself from uttering, I can see. But private thoughts, ones which you wish to be hidden, cannot be seen directly by anyone – though their effect may be apparent. My race, the original Mu people, did not use words. When you meet them, please be mindful of this."

"So if we want to communicate with them, we should just form the words in our minds, and then they'll understand?" Niki asked.

"Yes, but you must mentally 'send' them. Mostly though, communication with my people is not about words, it is about feelings."

*

It was a long trip to Crimson's ancestral home, and we were all glad of a couple of breaks to stretch our legs and consume some of the fruit Niki had picked. I'd noticed that not only was the sunlight less intense that in our own time period, but the darkness was also not so, well, 'dark'. We could clearly see everything below us long after the sun went down.

As we drew closer to our destination, Skid told us to keep our seat–belts firmly fastened and not to look over the side. How I would have loved to follow our journey on Google maps! That, of course, was impossible, with no communications satellites for the next 32,000 years. So our mobile phone use was restricted to apps which needed no internet. The camera, photos, calendar and clock all worked fine, and I could read books, listen to music, play games and make notes. It was worth keeping my phone switched on just for those things. But with us spending more and more time on this trip, I was beginning to get a little concerned about my battery power. My phone was down to just twenty-five percent now, and of the two battery chargers I brought with me, one was completely dead and the other only had one bar left, so we had to be very careful. I switched my phone off as a precautionary measure. At least Niki had her own phone and charger, so I thought we should be okay.

From the air, Skid spotted a large group of dwellings ahead and pointed them out to Crimson, who nodded. We began our descent, searching for a suitable landing area. From what I could see, the dwellings were small units, which were interconnected. The rooves appeared to be covered with coconut matting, and the whole area looked like one of those exotic beach locations you see in Thailand or the Philippines.

Before we touched down, Crimson warned us that our flying machine would appear very alien to the Mu people, aircraft were not invented until much later in their history. For this reason, we landed well away from any inhabited areas.

Although our vehicle was incredibly quiet, it still made some noise; and within the quietness of this land, I couldn't help thinking that someone would hear us arrive – and maybe some of the locals were not so friendly. So Gareth and I decided we should hide the machine as best we could. But as we began to cover it with palm leaves, Crimson stared at us with a very quizzical look.

"What are you doing?"

"Hiding it," Gareth replied. "We don't want to come back and find it stolen, do we? It must be valuable."

"Sto–len? Please explain this word."

After we had explained the meaning, she laughed. "That is an interesting idea! As I said, we cannot own any material thing in our World, not even our bodies, so they cannot be 'stolen'. If someone takes the machine, then I imagine they would have some need of it."

"But then how would you get back to your own land?" I asked.

"It is very sad to know that the people of your time have a such small understanding of the Universe, Joe. They must be full of worry and apprehension... what to do if this happens, or if this thing is 'stolen': no trust in the Soul. This is the way the people of Atlantis are going now."

It was truly difficult to let go of our ideas of ownership (yes, we have ownership of our ideas too, of course). If the flying machine was stolen, how would we get back home? I discussed this with Gareth, and we agreed that Crimson had been looking out for us right from the beginning, and would certainly never put us in any danger. So I took a deep breath, and we left the vehicle in plain view and followed the Mus through what looked like a tropical garden. They intuitively seemed to know where to go.

As we approached one of the settlements we had spotted from the air, Crimson instructed us to clear our minds of any negative feelings, such as apprehension, and concentrate soley on feelings of love and joy – and do not speak. It wasn't easy to do this, but we did our best. Each of us held some of the fruit we had gathered in Lemuria.

As we approached some sort of habitation area, I felt eyes were watching. Suddenly, someone appeared through a doorway right in front of us. She looked exactly like Crimson! The two females stood facing each other for about a minute. Then, without any words, the doppelgänger nodded her head, prompting Crimson to do the 'mind–connection' thing she'd done with each of us previously. Only, this was a duplicate connection, each one scanning the mind of the other. Whilst we watched, I was aware of moving shapes within the dwellings. They were all in the dark, so it was difficult to make out their faces or forms. After around ten minutes, the Crimsons disconnected and they smiled at each other. Then the native Mu indicated Nik, and Crimson beckoned her forward.

"Niki, this is 'She who lives without fear...' well, that is the closest I can describe her name in your language. Perhaps you can call her Fearless? She would like to connect with you, as you have connected with me. Are you agreeable?"

Niki nodded her consent, and smiled a little nervously. Fearless smiled back warmly and placed her hands on each side of Nik's head, with the thumb of each hand covering her eyes, which were now closed. For the next fifteen or twenty minutes we watched in amazement as these two very different beings connected with each others' world. It reminded me of the first time Nik had connected with Crimson in Ancient Egypt. The only sounds were those of the birds overhead.

After they had finished, Fearless bowed to Niki, smiled and said "Xie xie ni." Fearless then appeared to communicate something to Crimson (by thought transference, presumably: no words were audible) and returned through a door. Now I could make out a group of people inside the structure, and saw Fearless connect with the whole group – as if each were sort of 'plugged into her' – and were now receiving the same knowledge and understanding of Niki that Fearless had acquired.

Then, one by one, each member of the group emerged through the door, and we watched open–mouthed. Their appearance, in shape and colour, was changing right in front of our eyes! Incredible waves of colours and textures changing by the second – absolutely amazing. The closest thing I could compare them with from our own world was Cuttlefish. If you've ever seen the way they exhibit hypnotic waves of rainbow colours, and can blend into any background, then you'll know what I'm talking about. But these were not fish – they were amazing people. In structure, they looked a little like Crimson, which we would expect given that they were her distant ancestors. Earlier, Crimson had informed us that the Mu people had the capacity of speech, but generally did not need to use it. This reminded me of a documentary I'd seen about Neanderthal Man many years ago in which a scientist was saying exactly the same about Neanderthals. Could it be that they were Mu people? They certainly disappeared from the Earth very quickly and mysteriously – and were around at the same time as Cro–magnon man, our ancestors. Could it be that the Altantean's wiped out the Lemurians?

Whilst we watched on, some of the Mus approached us one by one, whilst the rest of them almost glided amongst us, shifting colour and shape in a spell–binding way. The one I found in front of me invited me to connect with him. I must admit to feeling quite uncomfortable about this at first. I would be very reluctant to start chatting to a stranger in a bar who wanted to get friendly, so connecting with what was in effect an alien from Lemuria – and sharing all my thoughts and feelings with him – made me feel uneasy. The Mu, sensing my reluctance, changed almost instantly into a carbon–copy of me... it was extraordinary! It was like looking in a mirror, I swear. A similar thing happened to the others. Niki's clone changed to a copy of her mother, and Gareth's to his mum, but Skid's was a direct copy of herself.

As I connected with the Mu, I suddenly felt a very comfortable sensation coursing through my veins. An old and familiar feeling was awakened... a feeling of when I was a very young child, before I could even walk or talk. Then I felt I was drifting through space, unaware of my body, with my mind completely relaxed, free from the cares of the World. Gradually, I began to see his world through my senses and feelings. There were no words, but I just seemed to understand something about his people, including their beliefs, what was important to them, and their connection with the Universe. I almost understood what it was like to be one of them. I say 'almost' because I was still looking through the lens of my western, twenty–first century mindset, and some things about their existence were impossible to comprehend. We generally see through the lens of the self: 'I–me–mine'; but they appear to view everything through a collective mindset, a common well–being. We think in terms of my family, or his or her family; but for the Mu, there is only one family.

Just before I was disconnected from my lookalike, he smiled and returned to his natural form. There were no words spoken from his lips, but inside my head a voice said: "Thank you for sharing your World, and welcome to ours. Everything we have is yours."

After we had completed our connections with our Mu brothers and sisters, Crimson told us that we had been invited to share some food with them. The meal would be in a communal building, not far from where we now stood.

As we walked towards the structure, Gareth was eager to talk.

"Joe, wasn't that was amazing!"

"It really was Gareth – out of this World."

"This was my dream, Joe... you know that, right?"

"Yes, mine too. It really makes you think about what's important in life. In our own time, people would say these are primitive savages. But these Mus actually make me feel primitive. D'you think this is a typical village? I mean, I've no idea what the population of Lemuria would be... or the whole World at this time. I tried to find out from Crimson, but she couldn't understand why I was asking."

"You should have asked me! I've got a population app on my phone which has a formula based on World population estimates. For 32,000 BC, the population would have been around half a million."

"Half a million! That's less than Cardiff, isn't it?"

"Ha–ha! Yes, Cardiff's more than eight hundred thousand."

"Amazing! It does make you wonder if bigger is better..."

Gareth nodded soberly as we arrived at the dining hall. This was constructed in the same style as the other buildings, but much larger. Crimson told us it doubled up as both a dining area and meeting room for the tribe.

"Is this typical of other Mu villages?" I asked her.

"I do not know. You can ask the Mu if it is important for you to know this, though I cannot understand why it would be. All I have is handed down memories and stories from my ancestors... but I do know that my people lived a very simple and beautiful existence. From what I understand of your world, these Mu people could not survive where you reside – except perhaps in the forest areas where you say that primitive tribes exist."

I nodded and turned to Niki. "Do you fancy relocating here then?"

"Well, if we could get decent Wi–Fi, why not?" she smiled.

"Why fi... what is this?" Crimson asked.

Niki explained our communication network that ringed the globe in our time period.

"Oh, we have this too. Only not as primitive as yours, I'm sure," she replied with a twinkle in her eye.

"Hey, you're getting really good at sarcasm! Are you sure you don't want to come back with us?"

"Yes, I would like to see your World Joe, and I am looking forward to making this backward step," she replied, deadpan.

As the food arrived, we gaped at the range of fruit the Mu were providing us with. We had earlier offered our own fruit, which was gratefully accepted and placed at the centre of a large round table. As in Chinese style, the middle part of the table rotated to enable us to easily share the food. After the fruit came fish, squid, vegetables and home–made bread. It did look amazing... but with no meat or dairy products, I was wondering if I was going to get full. Crystal seemed to read my mind... as usual.

"Do not worry, this food will fill you all – and there will be much left over," Crimson told us. And she was right. The fruit was amazing, and that alone could easily have filled me up. Apart from the food, there was a range of drinks, including mango, coconut and pineapple juice, plus some sort of home–made beer and wine. I thought I should stay sober, so went for the coconut juice. Niki gave me a strange look as she poured herself a glass of wine. It wasn't like me to turn down alcohol when it was offered, but I didn't want to get drunk in the Mus company. Gareth sipped his beer whilst I drank in the atmosphere; and after about fifteen minutes, we all felt very relaxed.

Then Nik turned to me and smiled. "Joe, don't you think this is the most unbelievable adventure! I'm so glad I came with you – thank you babe." She kissed me on the cheek. It was a very tender and heartfelt kiss and had the attention of every Mu, who all smiled and copied the kiss, then let out an amazing sound: not human in nature, more like tropical birds calling.

For me, 'relaxed' now turned to drunk, as I tried to stand up to find my way to the washroom.

"That coconut juice packs a punch!" I remarked as I tottered towards the exit door.

"Yes, it does when it's been maturing for five years!" Nik called after me.

When I returned to the main room, she was looking rather more serious.

"Joe, can you give me the spare battery–charger... my phone's almost dead."

"What's wrong with your charger?"

"Never mind that, just give me the spare one will you?"

The tone of our conversation seemed to agitate the others, so we excused ourselves to talk outside. It was a very peaceful evening amongst the exotic plants, but we soon changed that.

"Joe?"

"The spare charger is completely dead, and mine has just one bar left..." I showed her the devices. "And my phone's down to 15% power."

"Why didn't you tell me!"

"Why didn't you tell me your charger was dead? And how about your phone?"

"No power."

"What! Don't tell me you've been playing games on it!"

Niki sighed. "Okay, I did play some games on the trip; it was a long flight – two long flights. And I've shot loads of video..."

Seeing our conversation outside, Gareth joined us.

"What's the problem?"

I sighed. "It's the phones Gareth... we probably don't have enough power to get us back home."

"What! But we brought three battery chargers – you had two Joe, and Niki had one. I used one of Joe's to recharge my phone."

"Well, they're all dead as a dodo now mate. And unless we can find a way of charging one of the phones in Lemuria, it looks like we're all stuck in 32,000 BC."

*
Chapter Twenty–One

We were just about to go back inside, when we were joined by Crimson.

"Sorry for making a noise... slight problem. But we'll be okay," I said, without really believing it. Time–jumps used a lot of power, and one phone needed to be powered up to at least twenty percent to do the job.

"Niki, may I connect with you?" Crimson asked. Nik nodded and Crimson placed her fingers around Niki's head in the usual way, then closed her eyes, lowered her head and looked inward. After no more than two minutes, she said:

"Do not worry: there are two simple solutions to this problem. The first is that we all remain here, with my people, in this World."

Despite occupying a virtual paradise, with a race more highly developed than us on a mental and spiritual level, nobody jumped at that one. We still wanted the freedom to choose our own destiny.

"And plan B?" Gareth asked.

"Skid will tell you tomorrow."

*

Feeling relieved that there was a solution to our power problem, we shared a few more drinks with the Mu. Skid had already retired to bed, we were told, so we could speak to her in the morning. Nik and I kept our phones switched off to conserve the little power we had left.

We were given what appeared to be a guest room, easily big enough for the three of us. Crimson and Skid were presumably staying with the Mu. It had been an amazing experience on Lemuria, and we were soon off to sleep... looking forward to the next day.

***

Chapter Twenty–Two

I awoke with the rising of the Sun. Gareth and Nik were already up, and their beds were made. I wandered outside to find them playing hide–and–seek with the young Mu children. We had not met the kids before, and they were truly amazing. They would replicate the shape and colour of almost any object at will, so to find them in a forest was a nightmare! They just had to stand next to a tree, or lay down in the grass and we had no chance of finding them. All we could do was look out for their eyes or limbs moving. When it was our turn to hide, we'd sneak behind a tree or a rock, but they always found us in the end. It was great fun. What fascinated the young Mu was the sounds we made when we spoke. This so intrigued them, they tried to mimic us – with comical results. A couple of kids mentally connected with first Niki, and then Gareth and me, which showed us more about their lives than words ever could. We did not witness any emotions other than love, joy, empathy and humour. It was amazing.

As we were playing, Crimson came over to talk with Nik. Skid was with her. They both bowed, in accordance with the custom of the native Mu, and held each others hands closely. I couldn't hear what they were saying until I got closer.

"... thank you for this wonderful gift Niki. You know, between here and a place called Hata are several mountains, which are locally known as the Ha'wai'ha. In my time, they are islands, and are located within the Great Ocean..."

"Hawaii!" exclaimed Nik, smiling at me. "That's perfect for us. Thank you Crimson."

"It is our pleasure, sister. But before you leave, we must give you the power you need for your devices. So collect everything you have and follow us."

I was about to ask questions, such as: 'Should we bring all the chargers? Do you need all three of us? Where are we going? Are we coming back here? But Niki shushed me. I shrugged my shoulders, and collected everything.

Skid led us out of the village, back the way we entered, and we were soon at the flying machine, which was exactly where we had left it. She opened a section of the fuselage with some sort of tool, then asked for our phones and battery chargers. Looking at them carefully, she said something to Crimson.

"Skid asks if it is possible to damage the devices by excess charging?"

We confirmed that it wasn't, and Skid placed them inside the craft on a shelf above what we surmised was the crystal power source, then powered up the engine. Now that the crystal was exposed, we could see it glow – first red, then magenta, then blue, and finally white. After less than two minutes, the phones and battery chargers were all fully charged.

"That's... that's... remarkable!"

"If you return to our lands, you can learn so much more about our people. But for now, I feel it is time for you all to return to your own time. Skid and I will remain here, on Mu, with our own kind – for now."

"Then, you're not coming with us Crimson?" Gareth asked.

"Not this time. But I hope to see you again in another place or another time."

"Well, it's been absolutely amazing – I can't believe what you've shown us, what you've done for us. It's a dream come true, and I still can't believe this is happening!" said a tearful Welshman. "Give me a hug."

"Thank you for everything Crimson – particularly what you've done for Nik," I said. "It's changed her life – mine too. I'm sure we'll be back."

We waved goodbye as Skid flew us high over the forest on our way to the Ha'wai'ha mountains. I put my arm around Niki as we scanned the scenery below.

"I'm really glad we finally visited Lemuria, Nik, and reunited Crimson with her own people. I'm just a little sorry that they're stuck in 32,000 BC."

"We can come back and see them Joe... now we know the location of Mu."

*

I hadn't realised that Gareth had a passionate interest in Astronomy. He told us that Maura Kea – the tallest mountain on the island of Hawaii – was home to a large astronomical observatory, comprising thirteen international telescopes and the supporting infrastructure and staff, including a visitor centre (one of his uncles had been there). And there was a road directly to the airport from the observatory.

It was to this location that Crimson had instructed Skid to fly us, from where we could time leap back to our own time without a wet landing. It took a couple of hours to reach the mountains, which were easily visible in the distance.

"Great to have our phones back fully charged, eh Nik?" I said as we sailed above the land below. "A big relief, right? Okay, I loved it there, but I wouldn't like to be stuck in Lemuria, like Crimson and Skid." She was quiet for a moment. "Nik?"

"Actually, I gave my phone to Crimson."

"You what?" I stared at her for a few moments as she looked out of the plane. "Why?"

"You know why Joe – so they can travel back to their own time."

"I understand that baby... but what about the consequences? God knows who could get hold of the phone and change our past... then what would happen?"

"We don't know Joe – and we'll never know. We'll be oblivious to any changes anyone makes to the past – you know how it works. And anyway, what about the phone we replicated for Crystal and Miranda? You didn't seem to mind that?"

I'd forgotten about giving the women from 50,000 AD a time travel phone. And Nik was right. The women from the future could have changed our past, present and future and we'd be blissfully unaware of it. So if they could have a phone, why not Crimson?

"You're right Nik... you did the right thing – sorry.

Skid skillfully landed the craft high up the mountain. We thanked her warmly for all her help and hugged her before saying goodbye. We didn't know what she understood about our race, but we felt like we had some special bond with hers. She waited on the mountain top until we had time travelled away from her present time, then she set off back to Thibi.

***
Chapter Twenty–Three

Back at home, we reflected on what had been an amazing trip – an out–of–this–world experience, never to repeat again. Well, maybe never. Gareth was still wearing his Star Trek outfit when we boarded a plane back to the UK at Hilo International Airport, Hawaii, and got a few stares, I can tell you. But we had certainly been where no modern day human had been before, so we did feel like space travellers in a way.

Niki was very tired after the twenty–hour flight back to London, and slept a long time once we'd returned home. We didn't even look at the photos and videos we'd shot for quite a while; we just needed to be back in familiar surroundings, doing the things normal people do: going out for dinner, watching movies, strolling parks, and skimming stones in the lake. It was nice just to be together as us.

Gareth emailed me exactly one week after he returned to Nottingham to thank us both for making his dream become a reality. He'd downloaded his photos from Ancient Egypt and Lemuria onto his computer at home, and just couldn't get over them. It was like looking at Hollywood movie sets, he said. He didn't mention anything about doing another time trip though – which I was very relieved about. We needed time to get over our last adventure.

*

The days rolled into weeks, and weeks into months. Before we knew it, six months had passed since we returned home. Niki was heavily into her oil–painting now, highly influenced by our trip to Lemuria. Meanwhile, I got back into my writing. I was actually documenting our trips as they happened, but of course they will always be regarded as fiction.

Then one morning, I was rudely awoken from my slumbers by Niki.

"Joe, Joe! Wake up!"

Groan.

"Joe – it's important!"

"What is it?"

"I know where I want to time travel to next!"

Groan. "Tell me in the morning..."

"It's morning already! It's six o'clock."

"That's not morning... it's not even light! Wake me when it's ten..." I replied, burying my face in the pillow.

"It can't wait!"

When Niki has something on her mind, everything else has to be put on hold – including sleep.

"Okay, what is it?" I said, dragging my mind into the land of the living.

"I want to meet Jesus."

"Christ!"

"Yes – Jesus Christ. I want to meet him... and find out the truth."

"Okay, well..." I said, gradually coming to my senses, "number one, you're not a Christian – and number two, if you want the Gospel truth it's in a book called the Bible... you can read it online."

"That's not the whole truth, and you know it. It was written down a long time after his death, and doesn't include the Gnostic gospels."

"The what gospels?"

"Books like the Gospel according to Thomas."

I tend to forget at times that Niki is much more widely read than me – and she's Chinese (which I also forget at times). But now I was awake, I had to hear her idea.

"Okay, go on then, shoot: what's your plan?"

"Think about all the things that occurred over the last thousand years in the name of Christianity: the Crusades, the Inquisition, the genocide perpetrated on the American Indians... do you really think they represented the words of Jesus?"

"No, of course not. He was preaching peace and love – like the Beatles – not vengeance on anyone who didn't believe in his teachings. Hey, that's an idea, why not bring John Lennon back to life?"

"Joe, I've no interest in Lennon!"

"Alright, alright. I agree that terrible things did happen in the past in the name of Christianity. Actually, I think old Jesus wouldn't be too chuffed to hear about all that either. But why meet him?" Then it suddenly dawned on me. "Oh no... I know where you're going with this: you want to bring him back here – to the twenty–first century!"

"And what's so wrong with that?"

"Well, for starters, no–one's going to believe it's him. And if they do believe it's JC, they're not going to like what he says – which means that someone, somewhere is going to try to take a pop at him – like they did Kennedy. And everyone else won't give a shit. I was reading that only 52% of Brits associate themselves with any religion today, and that includes Hindus, Muslims, Seikhs and Jews."

"I know what you're saying; but now we have the computers and the internet, just imagine if his message, from his own lips, could be relayed to all the people of the World at the same time!"

"Oh you mean like, 'Imagine no possessions – I wonder if you can'..."

"You're talking about Lennon again Joe..."

"Right, sorry – I'm always mixing them up. Are you sure you don't want to bring Lennon back instead?" Her icy stare told me she didn't. "Okay, then suppose we travel two thousand years back in time, and somehow get to meet the guy. Then what?"

Niki told me what she had in mind. She was thinking that people should have the chance to hear directly from the real Jesus Christ, from his own lips, in the context of the World today – not two thousand years ago. But bringing him to London...?

*

I reflected on Niki's idea throughout the day. Okay, I could understand her wanting to meet the man – so did I. I'd also like to meet Mohammed, Krishna, Buddha, Confucius and many other spiritual leaders; but I couldn't see how talking to any of them would change anything in today's society. I mean, yes, there were atrocities committed in the name of Christianity in the past – the Crusades being an obvious example. Then there was the Inquisition, where those who didn't follow the Catholic Church were rounded up, interrogated, and often killed. Not forgetting, the 'ethnic cleansing' and genocide of the Mayan, Incas and Native Americans who would not convert to Christianity. And even today, in some parts of the World, atrocities are still perpetrated in the name of one religion or another.

But the problem wasn't religion per se... the problem was hate, intolerance and fanaticism... you just have to look at recent history to see that.

"Okay, I've thought about your idea Nik," I said as we shared some lunch outside on the patio of our Finchley mansion. "I understand why you want to do this. But I really don't think it's going to change anything in the World."

"I don't want to change the World!"

"What! You said this morning that you wanted people to hear the man speak today, from his own lips."

"Yes, I do!"

"Then you must want to change things..."

"No!"

I was confused. But then she explained.

"I just think there should be the chance for people to hear what he actually said. If that results in change, then fine. Maybe the World will be a better place. But if it doesn't, also fine with me."

I thought about this for a minute. "Okay, so what you're saying is this: people today should have the chance to hear what JC actually stood for two thousand years ago – applicable to here and now. If people have no interest in this, you don't mind – and JC wouldn't either. The whole idea is to present a real choice... is that right?"

"Yes – you've got it!"

"Wouldn't it be easier to find a new Messiah, a new Messenger; one living in our own time, saying the same sort of stuff?"

"Well, yeah! Do you know anyone suitable?"

I had to admit I didn't.

In the end, I agreed to try to find Jesus – just for curiosity's sake. No thought of trying to change Christianity or the World. We had the power of time travel in our hands, so why not use it and become time tourists again – just like we did in ancient Egypt and China?

*

One problem we had – if we really wanted to speak with JC – was language. According to Niki, he would have spoken Aramaic and Biblical Hebrew, neither of which we had a clue about. My reaction to this was to give up the whole idea – but not Nik: she wanted us to learn Hebrew! So, that's exactly what we did. Nik located a language school called City Lit in Camden, and we both signed up for their Biblical Hebrew beginners' course. They offered evening study sessions, so we had the daytime to make our other plans for the trip.

We didn't need to work – we were multi–millionaires by now, having won the UK National Lottery and Euromillions Lottery several times. If you can travel through time, it's easy; just jump forward a day, discover the winning numbers, and hop back to submit your entry. We had to stop that after a while because winning several times on the trot began to look rather suspicious. We'd also found it easy to win money in Casinos every now and then, and we still use that method if ever we need extra cash. We've never obtained money illegally, by robbing banks for example (though I can't pretend we haven't thought about it!). With our winnings, one of the first things we did was vacate our small rented apartment and purchase a large house in Finchley, North London. It had a huge garden – a field really – where we built an authentic Chinese Garden for Nik, and a pitch and putt golf course (mainly for me).

Two months was enough time to pick up the basics of Hebrew. Getting your tongue around all those vowels was not at all easy, but Niki seem to pick it up quite well – much better than me actually. We decided to travel during the Autumn when the weather would be relatively pleasant. There were direct flights to Tel Aviv from Heathrow, which didn't take too long. After that, we would take a train to Haifa, and then a bus to Nazareth. From there, we would make the jump back in time. To do the time leap in London first and then travel to Israel in Biblical times would of course take much longer than the five-hour flight time from London to Tel Aviv.

Two other things we would need to consider were clothing and money. Niki researched clothing of the period, and found something similar online that we could wear. As regards money, I discovered that silver, bronze and brass were the most common metals used for coins at that time – gold was rarely used. The most usual silver coin was the Roman Denarius, which had the head of Emperor Tiberius on one side, and a likeness of his mother on the other. But where to get these from?

Surprisingly, it wasn't as difficult as I had imagined – mainly due to the Roman occupation of Britain around the turn of the Millennium. Nik suggested trying Ebay, and that turned up trumps – we struck gold! (Well, silver, bronze and brass actually). I had to pay through the nose for some of these – one silver coin set me back over seven hundred pounds! But we had the money, so why not use it? The bronze and brass coins were cheaper, but their condition was not always so good. A third problem was our appearance.

"I think I'm going to stand out a tad," I said one afternoon whilst we tried on the clothes Niki had obtained for us.

"Why? You look great! You just need a crook and a flock of sheep and you'll be a real shepherd."

"I don't mean the outfits – I mean my face: look at it! You look okay – light brown skin and black hair. But me..."

"Ah, yes... I see what you mean. Try this..."

She put some make–up on my skin and pulled a hood over my head, then stood back to take a look. "It's better, but you need a beard."

"A beard?"

"Sure – everyone had them then."

"Even the women?"

"Well, maybe not..."

Overall, we thought we could get away with our appearance. Our accents might seem very strange, but we can always say we've from Mesopotania, or we've travelled a lot.

We looked at ourselves in the mirror and Nik took some pictures.

"All ready to meet 'the Special One' then Joe?"

"Ah, that's something I wanted to talk about... let's have some tea."

We sat down in the lounge with a pot of peppermint tea. Niki thought we should get used to this because there would be no coffee where we were going. She also suggested we get used to the foods we were likely to encounter; so for the next couple of weeks the diet would be fish, bread, figs, dates, olives, pomegranates and wine. The last one made me very happy.

"So what did you want to talk about?" she asked me after we'd gone through the food list.

"He wasn't called Jesus... I mean, that wasn't his given name."

"Oh! So what was he called then?"

"Yeshua Ben Yosef."

"Ah! In Chinese we call him Ye Su. Yosef sounds like Joseph – his father's name."

"Exactly right! Jesus was called Yeshua son of Joseph. In Hebrew, Yeshua means 'Yahweh is salvation' or 'saviour'."

"Yes – I remember we learned that in our Hebrew lessons."

"We did? Christ, I'd forgotten!"

"You'll have to stop saying that!"

"What, Christ or I've forgotten?"

"Both."

"Okay, got it. Anyway, this info is obviously very important when we're looking for him. No point in saying, 'Has anyone seen Jesus around here lately?'"

Nik smiled, imagining me saying such a thing – and believing I would.

***
Chapter Twenty-Four

So we were all set: basic skills in Biblical Hebrew; clothes which would help us to fit in with the locals; natural beard and fake tan for me; old Roman money and flight tickets. I phoned mum before we headed off, and she naturally asked where we were going. When I told her we were going to Israel to find Jesus, she said, "That's nice dear – I knew you'd turn to Christianity one day."

Niki's parents told her to take a hat and sunblock. They'd been to Israel on holiday a few years ago and knew how hot it can get over there.

I took one of my old Latin textbooks on the journey. I'd studied Latin in school, and thought it would be useful if we bumped into any Romans. When Nik saw me with the book, she was surprised.

"So you can speak Latin Joe?"

"Potest bonam ostendere viam ad popina proxima."

"What does that mean?"

"Can you direct me to the nearest restaurant."

"Ha–ha! They'll probably kill themselves laughing."

"Why?"

"That's classical Latin – the sort we learned at school. The Roman's might have used it for formal documents, but they didn't speak it."

"What did they use then?"

"Vulgar Latin."

"So you want me to be vulgar?"

"Why not? You do vulgar very well."

So much for my Latin then. But at least I might be able to read official documents.

It hadn't really sunk in yet what we were doing – the enormity of it all. We were going to meet perhaps one of the most influential people in the history of mankind. How about that! At first, I hadn't been very respectful of Niki's suggestions, truth be told. But the more I thought about it, the more I knew this was the right thing to do. Neither of us had any idea of what we would find in Israel two thousand years ago; but whatever it was, I was sure there would be surprises in store. I couldn't wait!

Our British Airways flight was scheduled to leave Heathrow at 4:45 pm and touch down at Ben Gurion Airport, Tel Aviv, at 11:35 pm local time. Niki had booked a nice hotel room in the city for the night. We never knowingly wasted money, but with our accumulated wealth we always stayed in the best hotels and travelled either business or first class. Apart from the comfort, we could just sit together on the plane without anyone asking us any awkward questions about what we did for a living, or what's the purpose of our journey. Before, when we used to travel Economy, I used to enjoy telling people about our time travelling adventures; it filled time on what could be very dull journeys. No–one took it seriously, of course. Then one day a young guy (who was really into the idea of aliens and things like the X–Files) took it all very seriously and asked me to show him how to travel through time. I was tempted to give him the phone and see what would happen. In Lemuria, I'd thought about time jumping mid-flight, but we never actually did it. So it would have been interesting to see if he vanished from the plane, or the whole aircraft just disappeared into another time zone. Anyway, it was after that we decided not to travel Economy any more.

The flight–time was around five hours, and we arrived in Tel Aviv just ten minutes late. It was early October and the temperature was a very pleasant 24 degrees Celsius outside. A taxi took us to our hotel, the Tel Aviv Hilton. The hotel was right on the beach, and Niki made me promise we would stay more than one night on the way back after our trip.

After breakfast, we headed for the railway station to catch the train to Haifa. The journey was just over two hours, and it was great to see parts of a country that neither of us had ever visited before. I love travelling by train. You can escape the traffic jams that hold you up in a car or bus, and see things you'd miss by flying.

After lunch in Haifa, we found the bus station and took the next coach to Nazareth. So far, so good. A Chinese couple were already aboard the vehicle, and soon began a conversation with Niki in Chinese. Nik was dying to try out her Hebrew – and because the Chinese woman said she knew a little of the local language, they spoke in Hebrew for a few minutes. I don't think I've seen her so happy! Inevitably, the question of why we were travelling to Nazareth came up. I said we were hoping to talk to Jesus, which amused the couple somewhat.

"I think you need a time machine for that," the Chinese man jested in good English.

"Don't worry, I've got one!" I replied, pointing to my bag.

Arriving in Nazareth, the Chinese woman (who was named Xiao Ying) exchanged WeChat details with Niki (Wechat is the chat messaging application used throughout China, and other countries) and they promised to keep in touch, possibly meeting up for dinner whilst we were in town. Our hotel was located in a part of the city called Nazareth Illit – meaning Upper Nazareth. This was built alongside the old town – which was naturally the part we were interested in.

"How many people live here Joe?" Nik asked as we walked towards our hotel.

"Oh, I think around two hundred."

"Duh! I mean the city, not the hotel!"

"Ha–ha! Maybe 75,000. But at the time of JC, it's said there were only about four hundred."

"So I guess everyone would know everyone else then," she observed.

We'd booked a room in the Havaya Plaza in Nazareth Illit – a comfortable–looking family hotel with an outdoor pool and bar–lounge. The secluded location was perfect for our two–thousand–year jump. After much needed showers, we had dinner in the hotel restaurant and sampled the local food. Both of us were dying for a drink after that, so we tried out the bar–lounge – which had great views across the city. I ordered Gin & Tonics for us both – our favourite cocktail these days. Niki was looking a bit serious.

"Joe, you remember when we travelled back in time to Ancient China to find the tomb of Qin Shi Huang?"

"Yes, of course – how could I forget that trip! You badly sprained your ankle, and the three of us very nearly got killed. Not easy to erase from one's mind!"

"It was all your idea, and I basically followed you and Magic that time."

I had to admit this was true: on that occasion I was desperate to witness first–hand the building of the magnificent tomb of the first Emperor of China, and Niki and her cousin Magic did tend to follow my lead. Since then, no foreigners have entered the Emperor's great tomb – so I suppose we were the first to do it, and maybe the last? At that time, it was the closest we had come to being killed on a time travelling adventure.

"This time, I'd like you to follow me, Joe, if you don't mind."

I certainly wouldn't leave Nik on her own; but I understood her feelings after the trip to ancient China. I'd dropped my mobile as soon as we made the time leap, and it was lost in a dark muddy trench for a while. When Magic eventually found it, the phone had stopped working, which caused lots of problems – including nearly being killed by extremely dangerous–looking soldiers! Roman–occupied Palestine two thousand years in the past was not a time–zone I wanted to get trapped in.

"Okay, no problem Nik," I confirmed. "So what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"From what I've read, Yeshua came to Nazareth sometime during April in AD twenty–six. He'd already been teaching in Capernaum, and that had gone well; so he thought he could do the same thing in Nazareth, his home town."

"Right, that's basically what I remember from my school days." Neither of us would admit to being Christians, but we'd both read the Bible, or at least parts of it, at some time during our lives. And we brought a copy with us for this trip, of course. I'm not sure how historically accurate it was, but there was little else to go on.

The barman brought our drinks to where we were sitting.

"Two Gin & Tonics, madam, sir."

"Thanks," smiled Niki. "Oh, and can you help us with something else?"

"Sure."

"Can you tell me how to get to the Synagogue Church?"

"No problem. The Church is located in the middle of the old souk, which means the old market, adjacent to the Greek Catholic Church of the Annunciation. It's actually included on the 'Jesus Trail', so you can find it that way. It you don't know the city, you can take a taxi from the hotel to the market."

"So is this the original Synagogue Church – where Yeshua taught?"

"Yeshua? Oh, you mean Jesus! We don't hear many foreigners calling him that! Well, it's not actually the original church – a new church was built on the same site a few hundred years after Jesus, I mean Yeshua. But I think you can get the same feeling from the more recent church, which is also very old of course."

*

After breakfast the next morning, we changed into our 'costumes' and packed everything we thought we'd need into one bag, including some food and water. Originally, we were going to time jump from the hotel grounds and walk into town from there. But when the barman talked about taking a taxi to the market area, it seemed more sensible to do that – and then time leap when we got to the market. Walking to the old souk two thousand years ago might have left us vulnerable to questioning looks, and possibly much more than that from Roman soldiers.

We did receive raised eyebrows from the taxi–driver, but he said nothing and got us to where we needed to be very quickly, dropping us off as close to the Synagogue Church as he could. For the fare, I nearly gave the driver some of the Roman coins I had in my pocket, but just managed to stop myself! The old market was nothing like I imagined. The area was mostly built up, with very narrow streets. A Greek Orthodox Church was adjacent to the location of the Old Synagogue Church. To get to that, we just had to descend a set of steps from the street – and there it was. Clearly, it was a very old stone building – but not the original Synagogue. As the barman had explained, it was a church built on the original site. Down a few more steps, we found ourselves inside. Most of the people there seemed to be tourists, soaking up the atmosphere. We did get quite a few questioning looks from them – but I think they just assumed we were part of some sort of period play.

We waited until they had all left, then got ready to do the leap. We had to be quick because we could hear more people descending the stairs. I gave Niki my phone to change the date to Saturday, April 6, AD 27. I'd taken her words to heart about me running the time trips, and this time leap was her idea, so she should be in control.

"Ready Joe?" she asked.

"Take me to Jesus," I replied, holding her hand. She pressed Go on the app, and we felt the usual 'wobble'. Within a few seconds, we were there – inside the old Synagogue, nearly two thousand years in the past.

***
Chapter Twenty-Five

From our research, we knew that Yeshua preached at the Synagogue Church one day in April, AD 27. Traditionally, the Sabbath for Jews (of which Yeshua was one, of course) was always a Saturday – and still is. Niki therefore used a weekday calculator on her phone to work out all the dates of Saturdays in April, AD 27. These were: the sixth, thirteenth, twentieth and twenty–seventh. We would try each one of these in turn, and see which day our Saviour would turn up. Hopefully, he'd appear on one of them.

The time was 9:00 am when we miraculously arrived in AD 27. The place was empty, thankfully. (If someone had seen us appear, maybe we could have started a new religion!). Neither of us knew how long to wait. After thirty minutes, I exclaimed, "Christ, where are you!"

"Just be patient Joe! He might not even arrive today. Play with your phone or something," she said, returning my phone to me.

"There's no Wi–Fi, and no phone signal – what can I do with my phone?"

"Read a book. You've got the Bible on it, haven't you?"

Actually I had, so I followed her idea. I read the part – in several gospels – which described his teachings in this actual synagogue building.

"Hey Nik... it says here that they gave him a pretty rough time! Not a gig I'd like to play. Listen to this: 'And they were all filled with wrath in the synagogue as they heard these things; and they rose up and cast him forth out of the city, and let him unto the brow of the hill whereon the city was built, that they might throw him headlong.' Holy moley! That's outrageous – and I'm not even a believer!"

"Yes – I remember."

"You remember? You mean you were there – you've met JC before?" I quipped with feigned disbelief.

"No, I mean I remember that you're not a believer. I'm not a believer either – in Christianity I mean. But I'm not a disbeliever."

I couldn't quite work out the logic of her double negative, but I let it pass. After waiting another half-hour, I had an idea.

"Nik, I've got it! I don't know why we didn't think of this before."

"What?"

"We just jump forward in time until he appears."

"Aiya! Yes, of course."

So we did just that, but not inside the Synagogue. We found a spot outside from where we could see inside, but no–one could see us easily. The original Synagogue Church, built by the Crusaders, was nothing like the one built later. It was open–air, with pillars like Greek temples. So it was easy to be a little distance away, but still be able to see and hear what was happening inside.

We jumped at hourly intervals. People came and went during the day, but not one was our man. No uproars were caused by any of the people speaking – and that was what we were looking for. We realised that we didn't actually know what our man looked like – all we had to go on were the Gospel descriptions of the action taking place in the Synagogue church that day. We hoped these were the gospel truth, and moved on to the following Saturday, April 13th. To me, it was so much easier doing hourly time leaps through the day, but Niki was getting tired of it.

"I'm feeling dizzy Joe... can we have a break?"

I agreed, and we tucked into the food and drink we'd brought along.

"Y'know I blame the guys writing this down," I said. "If they'd documented this whole thing properly and written down accurate minutes, we'd know exactly when to come here."

"Just be glad we've got something to go on! Without the text, we wouldn't even know this happened." She was right.

We went through another whole day – still no Yeshua. We moved on to Saturday, April 20, AD 27. Then Nik said, "Y'know it's possible that we've got the wrong time period."

"Now you tell me! How's that even possible?"

"We're relying on documents that were written down more than a hundred years after his death. Maybe it wasn't April at all – or even the year twenty–seven."

"Oh, that's just great!"

I was ready to pack up and go home, when a man entered the Synagogue.

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Nik. "It's him!"

I looked at his dress, at the way he walked, and I knew she was right.

"Looks nothing like his pictures though," I observed. "I mean, there's no halo over his head for one thing!"

"But he's got a beard!" she smiled.

"Everyone's got beards! Even I've got one, and I don't hear you calling me Messiah."

"Shhh... he's speaking."

He began by reading from a large book. Obviously not in English, but I understood a few words from our Hebrew lessons. For reference, I was recording the sound on my phone. Niki went one better and recorded it on video – unbelievable! Imagine this on youtube!

*

That evening, we were in shock. We lay on our king–size double–bed back at the hotel and replayed the video. 'Gobsmacked' didn't even come close.

"Well, this does prove one thing..." I observed.

"What's that?"

"He's real. We even heard them introduce him... Yeshua Ben Yosef."

"True. But I did feel bad about leaving him to those 'animals' at the end."

"I know – I didn't like it either; but what could we do? There was a whole gang of them, and it was getting pretty nasty. If we'd interfered, we could have been strung up along with him – and then what? We have to remember, this was just a re–enactment... it wasn't real."

"It looked very real to me," she said somberly.

We were both very quiet, thinking about what we had witnessed – and considering our next step.

"You know I still want to meet him..." Nik said eventually.

"Yes, I get it. Me too." Then I had an idea. "Look, I know what we could do – but it might mean exposing ourselves..."

"I'm not undressing for anyone Joe Cooper – not even the Messiah." After years of living with me, Niki had finally picked up my humour.

"Ha–ha! That would be an interesting thing to read in the Bible! No, we confront him before he gives his speech."

"And say what?"

"We show him the video." Niki looked at me as if I'd gone completely insane – which perhaps I had. "All right, I know what you're thinking... but if we're going to take him back to England..."

"You'd really do that?"

"It's what you want, isn't it?"

I'd actually been thinking about doing this ever since Niki mentioned the mad idea. It was a combination of making her happy, and really seeing what would happen to our history if we actually removed him from the fate we both knew lay ahead. If we caused some sort of worldwide religious cataclysm, we could always go back and undo it all later. I think we could... I'm sure we could...

We agreed to sleep on the idea, and see how we felt about it in the morning.

*

The next day, we both felt a little weird. Saturday seemed like a very odd dream; but we just had to go back to the Synagogue, and this time engage Yeshua in conversation. We knew the exact moment he would appear at the Synagogue to read from Scripture, so we could be there just before he arrived. But then what?

"We need to surprise him!" Nik smiled.

"Don't you think that a Chinese woman and a dodgy-looking westerner suddenly appearing in front of him will be enough of a surprise?"

"I think we need more than that Joe... but I've got an idea!"

After breakfast, we headed off to the Old Synagogue Church by taxi again. We did the time leap to 11:00 am, Saturday, April 20th, AD 27 – and waited. At 11:20, we moved to the entrance to the Synagogue and stood in front of it. At 11:25, he arrived.

"Shalom," we both greeted the man, bowing.

"Shalom," he replied with a smile, returning the bow.

He tried to go past us into the Synagogue, but we carefully blocked his way. Then Niki spoke to him in Hebrew.

"We know you have travelled a long way from Capernaum, and must be tired. This is not a good day to speak at the Synagogue. We know you feel an obligation, a duty to speak in your hometown, but this will not end well. A prophet is not without honour, save in his own country, and among his own kin, in his own house. No prophet is accepted in his own country."

Yeshua was open–mouthed.

"Have you heard me speak before? Your words are so like my own. Where are you from? Clearly, you are not of these parts – neither of you."

"We are from Britannia."

"Ah yes! You, my brother, are certainly from the West, though your clothes do not betray you. But you, madam, are from the East, not West."

Niki smiled and nodded.

"So what is your need of me today, my people?"

"They say you heal the sick and perform miracles," she said.

"Miracles? How so? To what sort of miracles do they allude?"

"They say you turn water into wine."

Yeshua laughed out loud, suddenly relaxing.

"Ha, that would be a good trick! Sadly, I am unable to perform such a miracle, though I am truly accomplished at turning wine into water, which I must say I do enjoy doing!" He smiled – and we laughed. "Will you drink wine with me – and break bread? Truth be told, I have eaten nothing today and I should surely break my fast. Come, I know a place we can sit and talk... I sorely wish to hear more about these miracles."

As we walked through the village (for that is all it was in those days), he asked our names. I told him I was called Joseph, but people abbreviated that to Joe, and my wife was called Niki. He told us his father also had the name Joseph – which I think I'd heard before...

We soon arrived at a small area where others were sitting with wine, ale and food. He spoke to a serving girl, and we soon had in front of us red wine, fresh home–made flat–bread, olives, lotus roots and tomatoes.

Interested to see no meat, I asked him if he was vegetarian. He didn't understand at first (my Hebrew is crap, despite the lessons), so Niki repeated the question.

"Ah, I see. No I do not eat meat – this is my meat," he said waving his arms over the spread of food. And fish of course. Fish is the food of the sea." He smiled. "Your Hebrew is good by the way – how did you acquire it?"

We had discussed the question of how we knew his language. Our line would be that we learned Hebrew from a Roman Centurion who was stationed in Britain, but had previously lived in Palestine. Yeshua seemed to accept this.

"I have always wished to travel to Britannia, your country. I hear that Londinium is a very interesting city. But alas the journey is far too long and would take me away from my work in Galilee – which is very important to me. My place is here. How did you travel to my country? Britannia is an island, I believe, so you must have utilised some sort of sea vessel for part of your journey."

"Yes," I replied. "We boarded a merchant vessel in Londinium, which took us to the south–west coast of Gallia. After crossing the country, we boarded another vessel to Italia, and then a third vessel to Jerusalem. We finally arrived in Nazareth yesterday. The journey took us forty days."

"I would love with all my heart to do this journey! One day perhaps. Anyway, I am so pleased that you travelled all that way to Nazareth, my friends," he said warmly taking our hands. "Now... miracles! Tell me what you have heard – I am keen to learn. But first, let us have more wine."

Niki had researched all the miracles attributed to Jesus Christ, and put them on her mobile. She covered the device with her hand whilst she read off the miracles, one by one.

"Okay! First, curing many types of people, including lepers, paralytics, women with various problems (including bleeding), giving sight to the blind, healing a man with a withered hand and curing miscellaneous ailments, such as dropsy. Next, exorcising demons from a large range of different people, including children. Also, resurrecting the dead and feeding multitudes of people with just five loaves of bread and three fishes. Then there was a miraculous virgin birth, witnessed by a mid–wife; and finally walking on water."

Yeshua looked thoughtful, then said: "Is that all?"

"Yes – that seems to be it."

"Interesting. Well, I suppose people like to believe in miracles... rather than seeing the connection between how they think, what they do, and what happens to them."

"You mean that none of those things actually happened?" I said incredulously.

"Oh yes, many did happen – mostly the curing of aliments. But they were not miracles. It could seem to many that resurrecting a soul who had seemingly passed away was a miracle. But if the doctor, or the village elder, had not performed a careful enough examination at the time, then there is no miracle – only carelessness. Sadly, it happens often. Sometimes a person is buried for several days before their tomb is found vacant, with the person at home enjoying a much needed meal."

As Yeshua talked, I began to understand how all this could happen – particularly in a primitive country like Palestine, two thousand years ago. I remember Niki telling me about a man in Guangxi Province, China, who placed his seemingly dead mother in a coffin, and prepared for her funeral. But four days later, the coffin was empty. The man searched the house and found the woman cooking some food in the kitchen. She told her son she woke up after a really good sleep and felt hungry! This didn't happen in some distant dynasty – it occurred in 2012 in China. Was that a miracle?

But it was what Yeshua said next that really took me aback.

"As regards curing the ailments you mention, I have had much training and now possess great experience in this area. For many years I lived in India, where I studied and practised medicine."

"But, I..." Niki started, not quite knowing how to express her thoughts and feelings about this topic.

"You should speak your thoughts aloud Niki, no matter how wrong they may seem at the time. Did you not know that all your thoughts, feelings and ideas come from Yahweh, from God? You should therefore value them, treasure them, and use them. The Pharisees and others will tell you that only they receive the word of God directly – but that is bull–shit, if you will excuse my language. They say his because they want you to listen to them, and they wish to control you, to profit from you in some way. So cast them out – they are only the agents of Satan when they speak so!"

"So you believe in Satan," Niki asked.

"Me? No–no–no! There is only God, and he lives within you, and without you. But many do believe in some sort of evil force. And when they choose to believe in that idea, they give it life and then it becomes their reality. After that, they are in the grip of fear. No–one should fear anything or anyone, or be controlled by such emotions. And I tell you this, these emotions make you a slave to them, not free to act as the wonderful beings that you are. Embrace love, not fear; benevolence, not greed; humility not arrogance; and confidence not worry. Love will conquer all.

"All you need is love," I observed.

"Exactly, yes! Someone should write those words in verse, in song, and proclaim them from the highest mountain! ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE!"

I so much wanted to play him that particular Beatles' track from my phone, but resisted the temptation. An introduction to twenty–first century technology and music could wait.

"My children, he continued, "I am so pleased to have met you, and to have broken bread and drunk wine with you. Here – have some more, it is the finest wine from all Galilee, made from the purest grapes."

We had spent much time with this man, this legend... some would say this 'god'. But Niki had one more question before we returned to our hotel.

"Yeshua, we are naturally interested in your life, having heard so many stories about you in our own country. Could you tell us how you sustain your life here? All men and women need food, clothing and shelter."

"Why, of course – for we are all human in body. It is perhaps more difficult for people of your country to understand this than mine. Here, a prophet of the Lord should never be without sustenance – for which prophet can talk without food in his belly, or wine for his mind? In Nazareth, I stay with my sister Miriam, or my mother Mary, and no–one in this town will allow me to pay for any food or drink. Look at me! I clearly do not eat or drink as much as Herod, but I never go hungry or thirsty. As for elsewhere, as I said, I am a practising physician and help the sick and needy, and people pay me for my service."

We bade Yeshua farewell, promising to catch up with him before we returned to 'Britannia'. He told us he was planning on returning to Capernaum the next day to talk with his people there, his disciples and followers. Capernaum was a place where he felt more welcome.

After he'd left, Niki turned to me. "Joe – can we go with him, and meet his twelve disciples?"

"Well, we could – if you don't mind being added to the Bible stories!"

She looked at me quizzically for a moment, then smiled. "Ha, you're right! We could be mentioned in one of the gospels!"

We found a quiet spot – not difficult in a village of four hundred people – and jumped back to our own time. Heading back to the hotel, we reflected on what had been a truly amazing day.

***
Chapter Twenty-Six

"The Lord truly moveth in mysterious ways..." I said as I lay on our hotel bed, looking up at the ceiling the next morning.

"Joe, don't mock!" Nik scolded me. She was right though – I really should not speak like that after what had happened the previous day. And there was more to come... wasn't there?

"So what's next Nik?"

"Let's save him!" That got me sitting up.

"Who, Jesus? You mean prevent the crucifixion?"

"Yes, why not!" she smiled.

"Whoa! That's too much, way too much!"

"Why?"

"Well, for one thing, we don't know the impact on world history. He wouldn't be a martyr to a cause any more, and who knows where that will lead. It could be the end of Christianity!"

After ten or so thoughtful seconds, she said, "We could always come back and undo what we've done."

Those were the magic words – the ones we always used to justify any time travelling actions we wanted to take. And in the end, I had to agree there was no apparent harm in the idea – and perhaps some good could come out of it. Maybe. We didn't know if the gospels would still be written, or whether they'd have a different ending. But we did have the power to undo. Well, hopefully we did in this case.

*

We agreed to time jump to the Garden of Gethsemane in Jerusalem, where Yeshua had congregated with his disciples prior to being arrested. According to the scriptures, Jesus et al were in town for the annual Passover. Using astronomical data, scholars had put this date as either AD 30, April 7 or AD 33, April 3. So we would try one, then the other.

First, though, we had to get to Jerusalem. Nik found a direct bus from Nazareth, which meant we could reach our destination in just over two and a half hours, taking in the scenery on the way. Sounded good. Next, she booked us into the Jerusalem Hotel for a couple of nights, which was housed in a former Arab mansion.

Our research into the actual location of the Garden of Gethsemane was less straightforward. Four possible areas were given online, and no–one knew for sure exactly where it was originally located. In the end, we decided to go with the advice of an author by the name of Dr. William Thomson, who believed that the garden was located in 'a secluded vale several hundred yards to the north–east of the present Gethsemane.' That would be our starting place.

As we boarded the bus the next day, we were pleasantly surprised to meet the Chinese travellers again.

"Oh, ni hao!" said Niki, and proceeded to talk with them in Chinese about their visit to Nazareth. As it happened, they were also travelling to Jerusalem for a few days to see the sights. Whilst Nik chatted with Xiao Ying, I talked to her husband Jim. He owned an Import Export company in Shanghai, and did quite a lot of travelling.

"So, how did the time machine work out Joe? Did you meet Yeshua?"

"As a matter of fact, yes we did Jim," I smiled. "We're planning on catching up with him again in Jerusalem tomorrow."

We chatted about the possibilities of time travel, and the problems it could cause (I was well versed in those!) and then discussed the situation in Israel between the Jews and the Palestinians.

Arriving in Jerusalem, we parted company with Jim and Xiao, promising we really would get together for dinner this time. We then checked into our hotel, and talked about preparing for our time jump. First, though, we needed a shower, food and rest after our journey.

*

Having changed back into our first century costumes, and packed everything we thought we'd need for the trip, we walked from the hotel to Gethsemane – or at least to the place we thought it used to be. The location was also a garden area, and we found a quiet enough spot for our 'trip'. Most tourists visited the place designated as the Garden of Gethsemane on the 'Tourist Trail', which was not where we now stood. Every now and then, it was completely empty which gave us time for our time leap. We began by jumping to AD 30, April 7, settting the time to 9:00 am. As with our Synagogue meeting in Nazareth, we had to employ trial and error, and it took a little while to go through the whole day. We went right through to 10:00 pm that day, and were about to give up and return to the hotel, when we heard the sound of footsteps. One by one, the disciples arrived – followed by Yeshua! We recognised him instantly, though he was clearly looking troubled. We had been hiding in some small trees, but he seemed to sense our presence straightaway.

"Who is there?" he commanded.

We stepped out so we could be seen clearly. Instantly, three of the disciples rushed to restrain us.

"It is all right," he said to them. "Release them, for they are very familiar to me. Is it not Joseph and Niki?" We nodded, and he walked towards us, smiling. "Greetings, greetings my friends – it has been a long time, and I am so glad to see you! Come and meet my brothers."

He introduced us to Matthew, Mark, John, Luke, Simon, Thomas and many others, who greeted us warmly. I noticed that one did not, however, and Yeshua had to talk to him.

"Judas, please greet my friends, for they have travelled from Britannia to meet you all – such a long, long journey."

We knew this was the time – we had to take him now or never. Niki grabbed his arm, and I took hold of hers, whilst changing the date on my phone to our present. And then we were gone.

***
Chapter Twenty-Seven

By now, we were pretty proficient at taking people with us on time leaps – and could do it relatively smoothly. But for the 'victim', the shock of suddenly arriving in an alien time–frame was always difficult to handle. Experience told us to do this as quickly as possible: act first, answer questions later.

"Come with us, Yeshua... now! Niki commanded, pulling his arm."

"Where is Matthew, Luke, John...?"

"This way..."

I hailed a taxi, and bundled him into the back seat whilst Niki sat at the front, providing the driver with our hotel name–card. We soon sped away – but not without some curious looks from the driver through his rear–view mirror.

"So, I guess you've just done a photoshoot here," he smiled.

"Actually, this is Jesus Christ, and we've just time travelled from AD 30," I quipped.

"Well, I've heard some stories, but that's probably the best yet!" the driver laughed.

We arrived at the hotel, and got Yeshua up to our room. We took the stairs because we thought an elevator would just freak him out – he might think he was going to join the Almighty!

"Please sit, my friend," I said, in my best Hebrew.

Nik and I looked at each other with bemused smiles, and high-fived. We'd done it! In the room, we had prepared a bottle of wine, some bread and olives – just to make him feel at home. After looking around the room, and the view from the window, he spoke.

"Is this heaven?"

"No-no, you have to go to the Sheraton for that," I replied.

"Joe!" Nik rightfully scalded me for being flippant, and then replied to him in Hebrew.

"Sorry, no. This is a type of Inn. We are still in Jerusalem, but in another time period."

"We have travelled through time?" he asked with amazement.

"Er, yes. We do have the power to do this. But only us – nobody else."

"So, what year is this?"

"Two thousand and nineteen."

"I must pray now."

We nodded in understanding whilst he kneeled on the floor.

"Father, these people know not what they have done. I believe they have brought me here in good faith; but I pray that you can open their minds so they can see the folly of their ways, and reverse this action of theirs."

"Now wait just a minute! We've done this for a good reason, Yeshua, and we pray that you give us the chance to show you why we have done it. We can take you back to your own time very easily, very quickly. But first, we have some things to show you."

I pulled out our copy of the New Testament (King James Version, but in Hebrew), and gave it him to read. Nik explained that this book was written in the year AD 80, or thereabouts. He sat down and began to read. At first, his demeanor was very serious; but after a while, he began to smile and started to chuckle at various parts.

"Surely, I must show this book to my disciples, for it will make them laugh with great humour! And now I am beginning to understand your references to 'miracles', for the book does discuss them so! And yes, it would seem that I myself had a miraculous birth, my mother Mary not having engaged with Joseph, my father, until later. But, of course, she had relations with another man previously, and that was my father of birth. Some say he was a Roman Centurion."

He continued studying the book, pausing to read sections aloud to us every now and then.

"Now there was afar off from us, a great herd of swine feeding. And the devils besought him, saying, 'If thou cast us out, suffer us to go into the herd of swine.' And he said unto them, 'Go'. So they went out and departed into the herd of swine, and behold, the whole herd of swine was carried with violence from a steep place down into the sea, and died in the water." In the Lord's name, I would never do such a thing to God's creatures!"

As he read, I got close to Nik and whispered, "He's not going to like the ending." She nodded.

"Ha, so now we get to the place where you met me – Gethsemane," he said, looking up from the book for a moment before resuming the script. He read for a couple more minutes, then put the book down. "Most enlightening," he smiled.

"But–but... you didn't finish it!" I gasped.

"Surely I did! There is naught left. Here, see for yourselves."

I picked up the book, opened it at Matthew, and read from the section regarding the entry into the garden.

"'Then went Jesus with them into a place which is called Gethsemane, and said unto his disciples, Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder. And as he prayed with the Lord, two angels appeared before him, one on either side, and he was lifted up towards heaven in a beam of light, disappearing from their sight.'"

It was unbelievable – the angels were us!

"And that's it? asked Niki. "Nothing about the arrest, the trial, or you know what?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

We were speaking to each other in English, naturally, whilst Yeshua went over to the balcony to study the view.

"It looks like we've changed history already!" I said, matter–of–factly.

"Then we've got to send him back!" she replied.

"What, are you crazy? We can't do that now – we can't deliver him to those animals... they'll crucify him!"

"Very funny Joe – but what else can we do? Leave him here to adapt to life in twenty–first century Jerusalem? He'll not survive on his own."

"Then we'll take him back with us... to Finchley."

Niki looked at me, straight in the eye. "Without any ID Joe?"

*

Nik was right: it would be very difficult to take him to the UK with no ID card, no passport or National Insurance, etc etc. Yes, we'd heard that we could get fake documents on the black market; but if he got caught, there would be big trouble, and we might not get the opportunity to return him to his own time. It was difficult to explain everything we were thinking to Yeshua in our limited Hebrew. So we simply told him we would take him back to his own time period – eventually. We just needed time to work out the 'logistics'.

We booked Yeshua into the room next to ours and showed him how everything worked, including the lights and the shower. Then we discussed what to do with him next. Taking him to London was not really doable; but Nik really wanted to get him 'out of jail', as regards his fate in Jerusalem. Eventually, we came up with the idea of returning him to 21st century Nazareth, and then time–leaping back to AD 30 from there. That way, he could possibly avoid (or at least delay) his arrest, trial and death.

The next morning, I called for Yeshua so we could explain our plan over breakfast.

"Oh shit!" His door was wide open, and the room empty. I got Nik, and we set about searching the hotel. We didn't have to look far. He was actually in the dining room already – conducting a sermon to those having breakfast.

"And I tell you this... those who seek should not stop seeking until they find. When they find, they will be disturbed. When they are disturbed, they will marvel, and after they have marvelled, they will rule over all.

"And the Lord sayeth, 'If you fast, you will bring sin upon yourselves; and if you pray, you will be condemned; and if you give to charity, you will harm your spirits.' So when you go into any region and walk about the countryside, when people take you in, eat what they serve you and heal the sick among them. After all, what goes into your mouth won't defile you; but what comes out of your mouth will."

Everyone in the dining room – the guests, the waiters, the cooks – applauded and smiled. He continued:

"Look, the sower went out, took a handful of seeds, and scattered them. Some fell on the road, and the birds came and gathered them. Others fell on rocks, and didn't take root in the soil, and didn't produce heads of grain. Others fell on thorns, and they choked the seeds and the worms ate them. And others fell on good soil, and it produced a good crop: it yielded sixty per measure and one hundred twenty per measure..."

He paused when he saw us arrive, and the diners talked amongst themselves about what they had just witnessed. "Is his performance every morning, or just today?" I heard one guest ask a waiter.

"Ah, Joseph, Niki, welcome. I have just been teaching the congregation... let us break our fast now."

"Oh, that was wonderful! One American lady exclaimed as she was leaving the dining room. So like the real Jesus."

"Thank you so much, may god be with you," he replied.

"Oh my god!" Nik exclaimed...

"God is in all of us Niki, not only in I..."

"You're speaking English!"

"Yes, and why not? It is not such a difficult language. It has roots in Latin, I believe, which I already understand."

As he was speaking to another guest, I whispered to Niki.

"How could he learn to speak English that quickly... it's not possible!"

"And how about time travel... also impossible?" I could see her point.

"It's a buffet breakfast," I explained to Yeshua, "that means..."

"I understand the word buffet perfectly Joe, thank you. It is a meal consisting of several dishes from which guests may serve themselves. The origin of the word is 18th Century French." He smiled, and went to help himself to food.

"Joe, this is amazing!" Niki grinned. "He's adapting to our culture at an unbelievable rate."

"It's a miracle," I replied dryly.

We collected some food from the buffet, and returned to the table with Yeshua.

"Joe, Niki: I need to talk with you. I was thinking much last night about this 'time travel' idea and what you have done for me. At first, I felt a little 'cheated', if that is the right word. You had taken me away from my Ministry, and away from my brethren and other followers. And you had denied me the death that I had prepared myself for. So I prayed to our Father for a long time last night, and we talked much. And then I understood: where I find myself now is exactly the right place for my Ministry. I have travelled much in my life, all over Galilee and Judea, to Egypt, and even to India. So why not travel in time to save the souls of others in my flock?"

"So you don't want to go back... to your own time?" I asked.

"No, this is where the Lord wishes me to be. Last night, I did not sleep – so many thoughts were coming to me. Then I noticed a large, black object in the room. Somehow, I managed to bring it to life, and I was amazed to witness so many moving pictures. Using the black stick I found on top of the rectangular object, I was able to change the view. In most views, people talked in Hebrew and I was able to understand many things about your World. I see your World is sick, Joe, very sick – and I wish to help to heal it. This will be my new Ministry. But this cannot be done alone, so I have to ask you one more thing: can you bring my disciples to this place where we are now, so that they can assist me with my mission?"

Niki and I just stared at each other.

"You mean, bring all twelve to our time – to 2019 – where we are now?" Niki asked.

"Exactly, yes! Is this possible?"

We had never time travelled with so many people before, so we couldn't honestly say whether it would work or not. But we'd taken three people and a four–by–four vehicle through time, so it seemed possible. And even if we couldn't time jump everyone at once, we could do it in stages. We explained this to Yeshua. He smiled, then bowed his head and started to pray.

"Lord, we thank you for introducing us to Niki and Joe – they are truly people of God. Thy will will be done..."

"...on Earth as it is in Heaven," I added. "Coffee anyone?"

***
Chapter Twenty-Eight

This had become very interesting. What had started as just a curious adventure to the time of Jesus Christ, had metamorphosized into something so very different – and so much bigger.

If we were to jump back in time to collect Yeshua's disciples, the easiest way was to return to the Garden of Gethsemane at exactly the same date and time as before. It seemed unlikely they would follow just Niki and me, so we knew Yeshua had to come with us. He was fine with that, and expected to accompany us anyway.

This time, we walked from the hotel to the Garden in our present time period (Yeshua's idea). He wanted to see how Jerusalem had changed over the centuries. Although there were many old buildings, only a couple of walled gates survived from his own time, he said. How people dressed had obviously changed, and we did tend to stand out in our first century costumes. But I suppose people would think we were either actors in a play, or farmers. Most probably wouldn't even care.

We arrived at the garden, and Niki prepared my mobile, opening the Date Me app. "Ready?" she asked. We linked arms, and felt the usual wobble. The disciples were visibly shaken to see us suddenly appear in Gethsemane. Yeshua spoke to them in Hebrew, explaining that he had been to a wondrous place where their help was needed. He said the Lord had spoken to him, asking him to 'Minister unto the people of the new land.' He said they need to form a circle and join arms so they could travel to the new place with his friends, Niki and Joe. He allowed them to choose whether or not to travel with us. Matthew, Mark and John came forward straightaway. Most of the others then followed, but Judas hesitated. After a moment, he walked slowly towards us.

"No, not you Judas," Yeshua commanded, holding up his hand. "You are not yet ready, my son."

Niki pressed Go! and I felt a large wobble, undoubtedly due to the shear number of people being moved, and we vanished from AD 30.

In our present time, as we walked back up the hill towards the hotel, I talked to Niki about what we were going to do with the group of disciples.

"It's his problem now," she said, indicating Yeshua. "We can't take them back to England with us - not all twelve. But we should give them some money to get started over here."

"Yes, they'll need money for accommodation, clothes, food and travel. How about a hundred thousand pounds?"

Niki's eyes widened. "That's a lot Joe!"

"I know – but we put him in this situation, and we can always win more money... you know that. Think of it like giving money to charity... a Christian charity."

"Okay, why not?"

We stopped at a point along the road to gaze at the view across the plains of Jerusalem. Yeshua had been talking to his 'flock' non–stop on our walk back towards the hotel, most of whom seemed to have adapted amazingly well to a two–thousand–year time leap. Or perhaps they were just in shock. I told Yeshua about the money, and he asked me what this was in his own currency, in his own time. Of course, when I converted it, he said it was greater than a king's ransom, and he could not accept the money. But when I explained about inflation, and the actual value of the money in terms of what it could buy in our own time, he was okay with it. I said I'd help him to open a bank account, and place the money there for him to access it. He was very thankful for our help, saying that the Lord would look after us.

It was getting late now, and we needed to find accommodation for the disciples. Back at the hotel, Niki used her phone to locate a hostel in the old city. They had a room for ten people, and agreed to fit in one more bed. Breakfast and Wi–Fi were included, though we doubted they would need the latter.

We took them to the hostel and made sure they had everything they needed.

As we made our way back to the hotel with Yeshua, Nik received a phone–call. She chatted in Chinese for a couple of minutes.

"It's Xiao Ying – the woman we met on the bus; they'd like to have lunch with us tomorrow."

"What? We can't! Tell her thanks, but we've got Jesus and eleven disciples with us just now... it's going to be a bit difficult."

"We could take them with us," she suggested. "It'll give the group a chance to see some more of Jerusalem... perhaps they'll get to like it here."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! But we needed to get some food for the troupes, and make sure they were okay before we left for home, so I found myself agreeing to meet Xiao and Jim at a Hummus and Falafel restaurant in the old town the next day.

*

The restaurant served very down–to–earth, traditional local food. Jim and Xiao had chosen it because they wanted to experience the sort of food the locals would eat. It had a lot of vegetarian food, so we thought it would suit Yeshua too.

Nik greeted the Chinese couple.

"This is Yeshua... and these are his 'disciples'."

"Disciples? I like that! Shalom, very pleased to meet you," Jim said in good Hebrew.

"Shalom," they replied.

"Okay, let me introduce everybody," I said after we'd sat down at a long table. "This is Peter, James, John, Andrew, Bartholomew, James the younger, Thaddeus, Matthew, Phillip, Simon and Thomas."

"Thank you for the introduction... I am Jim, and this is my wife Xiao Ying. But isn't there someone missing?" he smiled.

"I think you are referring to Judas, the one who does not support our Master," Peter replied sternly.

"They are very good!" exclaimed Xiao in Chinese. The way they speak, their clothes... so authentic! Where do they do their act?"

"Oh, many places," Niki replied, "Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Nazareth, Capernaum..."

"Can Yeshua do any miracles for us?" Jim whispered to me.

"Why don't you ask him?"

He nodded, and spoke to Yeshua in Hebrew. "We would be very honoured if you could perform one or two miracles for us."

Yeshua nodded. "Of course, it would be my pleasure." He took a long drink from his wine glass. "There, I have drunk some wine. Now, I will go to the bathroom to turn it into water." He stood up and everyone laughed.

When he returned he picked up a glass vessel, full of water, and poured the clear liquid into Jim and Xiao's empty wine glasses. The liquid instantly became a rich, ruby red colour. The couple gasped and applauded.

"I see that you are of the same origin as Niki, kind people," Yeshua said to the Chinese couple in English.

Jim and Xiao nodded.

"Zhu nimen shengming changjiu jiankang, xiwang neng you yitian zai jianmian," Yeshua added in perfect Chinese.

Jim and Xiao were taken aback \- and so was I! Niki translated for everyone else.

"He said, 'I wish you a long and healthy life, and hope that we will meet again one day.'

*

After lunch, Niki took the disciples around the city, whilst I took Yeshua to open a bank account. It was difficult at first because he had no ID, but when they heard I wanted to open his new account with one hundred thousand pounds, they found a way to do it.

We really wanted to help them more – but Yeshua said he needed to return with his disciples to Galilee. So after opening the bank account, we purchased twelve bus tickets to Nazareth for them. My last picture was waving them off as they left the bus station in Jerusalem. Tears welled in Niki's eyes.

"Joe, we will come back to see them, won't we?"

"Sure we will. But I think we'll hear a lot about them before that."

*

On our flight back home, we reflected on what had been an incredible adventure. We actually had photographs of Jesus and his disciples... how cool was that! A lot of pictures having lunch with Yeshua, Jim and Xiao and the gang, plus photos in the hotel with us, and some of him with the disciples looking over modern day Jerusalem. Finally, Niki took a photo of him opening a bank account, and one of them on the bus back to Nazareth. Of course, no–one was ever going to believe the true identity of our friends.

"Well, what next after that adventure?" I asked as we sipped our gin and tonics in Business Class.

"Oh, clothes washing, then a big rest," she smiled.

I was eager to discover what changes we'd find back home after preventing the crucifixion, and taking Yeshua and co into the twenty–first century. We were in for a surprise.

***
Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Nik – where did you put that Bible, you know, dad's old one?"

"I thought you gave it to Yeshua."

"No, that was my old school one."

"I don't know then."

Eventually, I found it. But it looked different: smaller. Looking inside, I discovered it contained only the Old Testament – nothing about you–know–who. But I was sure it had contained all the NT gospels.

I searched the internet for an e–copy. Nothing. All I could find were Wikipedia accounts of a man called Yeshua Ben Yosef who was baptised by John the Baptist. There was only scientific, historical information – nothing from a Christian perspective. I'd researched dozens of websites before our trip... sites that had everything about Jesus and his disciples, about the miracles, the healings and the teachings. It had all gone from my computer. I knew we wouldn't find anything about Yeshua or the guys after we beamed them up from the Garden of Gethsemane; but what about everything before that... all the biblical writings Yeshua had scrutinised in the hotel? Then it dawned on me: without the disciples, how would anything get written down? We had effectively wiped Christianity off the map!

"Don't worry Joe, it'll start all over again," Niki observed whilst researching something or other on the internet.

"What d'you mean?"

She looked up from her screen. "He's active in Israel now, with his followers. He's bound to make some impact."

"Well, I guess so – even if it's just for his clothes!" I joked.

We decided to forget about Yeshua and the boys, and just get on with our lives for the time being. I phoned mum to tell her we were back from our trip to Jerusalem, and she said she'd like to see our photographs when we get time. Now that was going to be interesting!

"We made some friends over there," I said, "and we're thinking of going back to Israel for Christmas."

"Chriss–mas? Whatever's that dear... some Jewish festival?"

"No mum, Christmas... you know, every December twenty–fifth!" I was worried that my mum had succumbed to some sort of dementia. Then she said:

"Oh, you mean Mithras!"

"Mithras?"

"Joe, I think you need a rest! All this travelling's not good for you."

I looked up Mithras, and discovered that it originated in ancient Persia; Mithras was the Persians Sun–god. The religion spread through Europe and was picked up by the Romans, who celebrated the birthday of Mithras on December 25th by slaughtering a bull. On the Roman calendar, this date coincided with the celebration of the Winter Solstice. Since we'd put a stop to the development of Christianity, Mithras had become the traditional winter celebration in the West – effectively replacing Christmas.

Apart from this, neither of us had really checked how the World had changed since our time travelling exploits in Israel. We were sort of afraid to face anything really, really bad, and then feel obliged to travel back to reverse what we had done. So we put time travel on hold for a while, and got back to the other things we enjoyed doing in life. Niki immersed herself in oil–painting, I did some writing and picked up a few more winning numbers for the Euromillions Lottery, as well as several successful trips to the local Casino. Well, I had to get some cash back after giving Yeshua a hundred grand. I quite enjoyed the Casino visits. Roulette was always a challenge – jumping forward a few minutes to see the winning number on the wheel, then jumping back in time to place the huge bet. But it worked!

For a few weeks, this was our new routine – until curiosity about the way we'd changed the World was too much: we just had to take a look at World history online.

There were, we had to admit, profound differences from the culture we knew in the UK. For one thing, Christian churches and schools did not exist, meaning that the culture was no longer based on Christian principles. Instead, Pagan beliefs – including Mithrasism – had become the basis of peoples' thoughts and actions. Interestingly, the celebration of Mithras on December 25th was similar in a lot of ways from the Christmas we knew. People still brought a tree inside the house and decorated it (a pagan tradition) and gave presents, wishing each other 'Happy Mithras'. But there were no Christian elements to the celebrations.

Looking back in time, the Crusades never happened, and there was no Inquisition. The Incas had not been totally wiped out by Catholic Conquistadors – but their lands had been taken over by a mixture of tourism and an exploitation of their natural resources. Henry the Eighth didn't need to create the Church of England because there was no Catholic Church to prevent him getting divorced. In the West, Mithrasism played some part in the culture of societies, but it was a dying religion which few people took much notice of.

As regards people, and how they were with each other, there were only small differences - mainly because over the years prior to us bringing Yeshua to the present, Christianity had been on the decline in Britain. I remembered my dad telling me about the times when most people went to Church on Sundays, shops were closed, and even sporting events were not allowed on the Sabbath. Such practices had eroded over time, meaning that the differences now were not as profound as they would have been fifty years ago.

All in all, we could see no reason to travel back in time and reverse engineer what we had done for Yeshua and the team.

*

Then one morning, out of the blue, my mobile phone rang.

"Greetings... may I have the pleasure of speaking with Mr Joseph please?"

"Who's speaking?" Like a lot of other people, we'd had our share of marketing calls from Call Centres and I wasn't going to answer any questions.

"This sounds like you, Joseph. Perhaps you have forgotten your friend Yeshua Ben Yosef?"

"Jesus Christ!"

"Ah yes, you have remembered! How does life go with you my friend and your beautiful wife Niki?"

"We're... er, great!"

"What you did was great kindness Joe, not only for us but for all who wish to know better way, the true way."

"Where are you now?" I asked, thinking he might actually be in London. But he seemed to read my mind.

"Ah, do not worry my son... I am not in Londinium – not yet. But I do plan to bring light to the Soul of Britannia very soon."

"So are you in Nazareth, or Jerusalem?"

"I am here, I am there, I am everywhere! You know, there is something very good about your world's 'technology', as you call it. It connects people in ways that were impossible before. In Nazareth, in my own time, I speak to maybe one thousand people a day at most; today, I speak to thousands of millions. But I need your help to progress in my mission very soon."

I didn't know what to say. Niki and I had brought Yeshua to the present day, and it sounded like he'd been busy. I told Nik the 'good news'.

"Wow! Jesus coming to London!"

"I think it's better to call him Yeshua Nik..."

"Yeshua Nik? Who's that?"

"You know what I mean."

"Why not Jesus?"

"Well, for one thing, in our new history...

"Which we created..."

"In our new version of history, which we created, Yeshua and the apostles disappeared from the face of the planet just before he was about to be arrested – remember?"

"Meaning there was no trial, no crucifixion, and no resurrection."

"Right. And more than that: there was no–one to write the gospels – so no New Testament. That's why we can't find any Christian churches anymore; Christianity never happened!"

"Yes, but what about Judas Joe?"

"Judas Joe? Don't remember him..."

"Judas Iscariot! He watched us make Yeshua and the others disappear!"

"Yeah... what a shocker that must have been!"

We were silent for a while, thinking about Judas. Then Nik's mind clicked into gear.

"Hey, wasn't there a book written by him?"

"What, 'Confessions of a Traitor?'"

"Be serious Joe! I'm sure I remember a Gnostic Gospel attributed to him."

Nik systematically searched on the internet. Books were her thing, and she knew where to look for any book or article online. But after searching for twenty minutes, this one eluded her. She sat back in her chair and sighed. "It's gone. I definitely remember reading it... and I really thought I'd read it online..."

"Well, perhaps it was never written," I said. "All the other gospels were not written in our new version of history."

"But this is different Joe! We didn't magically pluck Judas out of the first century AD like we did the others!" She sat looking at her laptop screen, searching.

"Here it is!" She found the Gospel of Judas, and started reading it. But her face soon turned into a frown.

"What is it?" I asked.

"This is not how I remember it! I first read the translation when I was a student... this looks very different..."

"Well, that's because your brain's not full of mind-altering drugs and alcohol now," I smiled. But Nik wasn't listening... she began to read one section out loud.

"Far from arguing that the physical body is a prison which needs to be escaped from, the Gospel of Judas portrays Yeshua as able to ascend to Heaven at will and take on other forms. In the text, Yeshua is shown rising up towards heaven, accompanied by angels, and journeying to the imperishable realm and later returning to his body. The Gospel of Judas is Sethian in orientation in that Adam's son Seth is seen as a spiritual ancestor. As in other Sethian documents, Yeshua is equated with Seth: "The first is Seth, who is called Yeshua."

"Seth? Wasn't he part of Ancient Egyptian beliefs – part of their religion?"

Nik was staring in the distance for a while, deep in thought. "Nik?"

She turned to me. "Yes, you're right Joe. And now I think I understand..."

"Understand what Nik?"

"About everything – about time travel, about life and about death..."

I looked at my time travelling wife, and I tried to comprehend her words.

"There is no death Joe! When we time travel, we just go to another time. That's what the soul does – only it doesn't need a mobile phone, and it can travel in space as well as time."

"So... you're talking about reincarnation?"

Niki knew I didn't buy into her idea, to put it nicely. To me, we're physical beings and, like all physical things, we're born, we live and then we die. End of story.

"It's the answer Joe," she said, pointing to the computer screen.

"The answer to what?"

"The answer to everything. All the stories, the ancient writings from the past, the so-called miracles. They're all about time travel, and other highly advanced technologies."

"Are you saying this mobile phone we have is some sort of alien technology, and we've been visited by aliens in the past?"

"There's no doubt about it, Joe. And maybe they're still here."

***
Chapter Thirty

The next morning, I received a WeChat message from you–know–who.

<We will arriving tomorrow morning at eleven.>

<Tomorrow?>

<Certainly! You have an expression in your language, Strike whilst the iron hot, and I assure you, Joseph, that my iron is very hot indeed!>

Yeshua, I had to admit, had changed somewhat since our meeting in Jerusalem. I think I liked him better before.

<The flying vehicle arrive at a place called 'Heath Row'... is this far from Londinium?>

<No, no... it's located within 'Londinium'. Actually, we call it London today.>

<Perfect! Then you will see brethren and I at London today on the morrow. Until then...>

<Wait! It's a huge airport, with thousands of flights, and endless terminals... it's a nightmare. I'll need your flight number.>

<Icic. I will send picture of flight ticket later.>

Just then, Niki entered the room.

"D'you think we can accommodate the Messiah and eleven disciples tomorrow?"

*

We sat in the lounge after breakfast, nursing mugs of coffee. It wasn't the first time we'd entertained people we'd met on our travels. Crystal and Miranda had visited us in London from AD 50,000, and future versions of ourselves had dropped in a couple of times. But this was a going to be... 'special'.

"This is all your doing Joe," she said, pointedly.

"What! It was your idea! I distinctly remember you suggesting it in Jerusalem!"

"You went along with it though. So, what are we going to do with them? We can't accommodate them all here."

"Well, how about Jim Gates, the farmer down the road... he might have an empty stable or two.

"Joe, be serious!"

I sighed. How could we be thinking this way about the Messiah, one of our great messengers, and mankind's big hope from two thousand years ago? But who would know that? We'd pretty much obliterated Christianity by helping Yeshua to avoid trial, torture, a cruel crucifixion and then resurrection. Not only that, we'd brought his disciples to the twenty–first century before they could write the gospels. Now all we had left was an historical Yeshua – and a book purporting to be the words of Judas Iscariot. JC would be no more important to the general populous than my cousin Jim.

"So? What to do with the gang of twelve?" Nik asked again.

"How about the new travel lodge in the High Road, it's not far from here. And Yeshua can stay with us."

It sounded like a good plan, she agreed.

I said I'd meet the guys at the airport, whilst Niki prepared our house for Yeshua. We had plenty of room for the Special One: three spare bedrooms, an enormous garden with tennis court and golf pitch–and–putt, and a nice swimming pool. I wonder how good he is at golf?

*

The next day, I headed off to meet the gang at Heathrow. Their flight from Tel Aviv was only a few minutes late arriving, and I didn't have to wait long to see the smiling faces of Yeshua and his crew.

"Joseph! He grabbed me and kissed me on both cheeks. "I cannot thank enough for everything you have done!"

"You're very welcome! It's great to see you all again... Niki's dying to see you..."

"Niki is dying?" asked Simon incredulously. I had to laugh, but they all looked aghast.

Thomas turned to Yeshua and spoke in Hebrew. "Master, why is Joseph laughing when our beloved Niki is dying?"

Yeshua couldn't help smiling. "My brethren, this is expression you must learn. When somebody says, I am dying to do this, or dying to see that... it is a modern English expression meaning that a person really, really wants to do something, or see somebody."

There was a sigh of relief and smiles at Yeshua's explanation.

"Apologies Joe – my brothers have little chances to practice English in our country. I will make surely I severely beat them all with a hammer the next time they make such mistake. Then they will not forget..."

*

Back in Finchley, Niki had prepared our apartment fit for a king, and booked the local travel lodge for everyone else. And then we descended upon her.

"Niki! My wonderful, beloved Niki! They hugged for what seemed several minutes before he let her go. "It is wonderful to see you so full of life!" She looked at me quizzically, and I said I'd explain later.

The disciples took a look around the house and gardens, whilst Nik and I sat in the lounge with Yeshua. It seemed like a long time since we'd last met, and he was intrigued to hear about our adventures and the people we'd met in Ancient Britain, Ancient Egypt and Lemuria, and let us talk about them for a while. Then he said:

"Joe, Niki: I am ready. Ready to begin my new Ministry here in this new world. In fact, already begun. It is wonderful to see you living such wonderful life, full of adventure. You will forever be in my heart. Today we rest – and reflect on the past. But tomorrow, we move to future. I have plans to speak to the people of Londinium in the morning. I understand there is a place in City with name: 'The Corner of Speakers'."

"Yes, it's in Hyde Park," replied Niki. "We can go with you, if you like."

"I very much like!"

Nik and I had both visited Speakers' Corner before, listening to some crackpot orators talking on political issues or espousing evangelical messages. Sometimes you could get quite a crowd there, and a lot of banter going on. An old mate of mine called Andrew Gibson told me he went there one Sunday morning. There were only a handful of people standing around at the time, listening to some nut talking about aliens living amongst us in London. So Andrew started asking the speaker questions, such as: 'So what do these aliens eat for breakfast? Where do they park their spacecraft?' and 'Which football teams do they support?' Having a laugh at his expense, basically. Anyway, after about ten minutes, the Alien–believer turned to Andy and said, "The floor's all yours now mate – looks like you've built–up quite a crowd." Andrew turned around and was aghast to see more than fifty people enjoying the rapport between him and the speaker. He really didn't know what to talk about at first, but was suddenly inspired to talk about his pet subject (animal–rights).

Anyway, I thought that this could be a way for Yeshua to build up a crowd of interested listeners at Speakers' Corner. But I'd got it all very, very wrong.

***

Chapter Thirty-One

When I met Yeshua and the guys at the airport, they were dressed in more or less modern, casual clothes. The two thousand–year–old garments had gone, and you could easily miss them in a crowd of middle–eastern guys. But the next morning, they had changed their attire completely, sporting really fashionable and expensive–looking clothes. The sort of things you might see on music TV, but not generally walking down Finchley High Road.

"Wow, love it!" effused Niki when she saw them altogether in our lounge.

"That's, er, something special," I observed. "Even if you just stand there and say nothing, you're going to attract a crowd."

Niki had hired a mini–bus for us to use whilst the boys were in London – it was the easiest way to travel around the capital. I was hoping Yeshua and the guys wouldn't be disappointed by whatever it was they were trying to achieve. Within the new reality we had engineered, we still had Judaism, Hinduism, Islam and the Old Testament churches – plus many smaller religions in the World (such as the Judas cult); but if you mentioned the word 'Christian', you'd get very puzzled looks. So they would be starting from ground zero... or so I thought.

Yeshua said he would start his 'presentation' at eleven that morning. It was around ten–forty as our vehicle drove close to Speakers' Corner. Nik and I were open–mouthed: there must have been more than ten thousand people there!

"Looks like it's your lucky day mate...." I said to Yeshua. "I've never seen so many people there on a Sunday morning!" He just smiled back at me.

We left the van, and some people in the crowd saw us. An enormous cheer spread around the park. Nik and I just stared at each other. A small stage had been set–up, with a P.A. and instruments waiting ready for some performance. Well, that explained it. A well–known band must be playing later, and we'd been mistaken for the band. Not surprising with the boys' costumes.

But reality soon dawned on us: this set up was for our friends.

The gang took to the stage: Yeshua at the centre, with the disciples at either side. And then it all started... a dialogue between Master and crowd.

"I am Yeshua!"

"Yes, you are!"

"The time is now..."

"The place is here!"

"We're going to bring about change!"

"Yes, we are!"

"Or maybe not." Some people smiled, others laughed. "Because the most important thing, the one thing that we should never, ever forget: there must be CHOICE." He paused. "Believe it or not, I have travelled forward in time two thousand years to be with you all today. Two thousand years. It would not have been possible without the help of my brethren, my sister Niki and brother Joe." Yeshua gestured towards us, and the crowd, as one, looked, smiled and cheered. We smiled back, not knowing or understanding how all this came to be.

"Thank you Joe, thank you Niki – bless you both. So now, to the business at hand: what is this choice? I tell you this..."

As he talked to the captivated crowd, we began to understand.

"He's just continuing where he left off, but in another country, another millennium. We've heard him speak before – we know the things he believes in, the things he's passionate about. But this is all new to everyone else here!"

I nodded. Nik was right: it was what he was meant to be – a messenger of a new way, of love and peace. Only this time, I hoped it wouldn't end badly; I hoped they wouldn't make a new religion out of him this time, one that puts us through all that religious persecution, intolerance, inquisition and crusades again.

Yeshua continued:

"I have visited many so–called schools in my own country. I am told, they are not so different in other parts of the World – including beautiful Britannia. But these schools do not serve your purpose. In many of these 'learning institutions', what is being learned is not what the children need to know in order to live the life they planned.

"Schools should be places of joy, of discovery, of useful and purposeful education about life. But they are not. Too much useless information is crammed into the minds and souls of the young, processing them into mindless beings, unaware of where they came from, or why they are on Earth. Theories are taught as fact – such as the theory of evolution. Teach theories, by all means – but then give all the theories, not just the ones which some people believe, or are fashionable at the time. For one thousand years, it was taught that the Earth was the centre of the universe and all else – the sun, the planets and the stars – rotated around it. For one thousand years. Now, of course, we know this is not so. But again today, we think we are so enlightened – yet we are no different from our ancestors one thousand years ago.

"It is time for Common Sense to prevail. An age of Common Sense and Intelligence is within our grasp. If an idea or theory does not serve us, cast it out. Let young minds be nurtured to think for themselves, not be filled with the useless theories of others..."

As we were watching Yeshua talk to the captivated audience, Niki gave me a nudge.

"Joe – over there... isn't that Gareth?"

Sure enough, it was our good friend, who slowly made his way through the dense crowd to join us.

"Joe, Niki – fantastic to see you!"

"What brings you here Gareth?"

"Well, isn't it obvious!" he replied pointing towards the stage.

"Yeah, but how did you hear about him?"

"I found his website online, and then joined his mailing list..."

"Mailing list?"

"Sure... didn't you know? He's on everything... YouTube, Facebook, Twitter... he's going to be the biggest thing since..."

"Jesus Christ?"

"Who's that?"

I suddenly remembered we'd never told Gareth about our trip to Israel in AD 30. Now it seemed we'd have to try and explain. In his World – like everyone else's – Christianity never happened, so he'd no idea about Yeshua's past - including the fate he'd avoided - two thousand years ago.

"Gareth, you remember after we helped bring your mam and dad back to you..." Nik started.

"Of course! And I'll always be grateful to you and Joe for that."

"How did your other relatives react when they saw your parents again... it must have been very strange for them."

"Oh, well that was the weirdest thing! I don't think I ever told you or Joe about this. Nobody even blinked an eyelid! It was like mam and dad had never died! I really couldn't understand it at the time. But when I thought about it later, I realised it must be because we'd actually changed their version of history... without them knowing it."

"Yes!" I replied, "it's something we discovered about time travel. If you're the one who time travels, you retain the memory of what had happened before; but otherwise, you're totally unaware that something has changed."

"Okay, so now I've got a feeling that you're going to tell me something about Yeshua..." Gareth said at last.

Nik nodded. "We know this is going to be hard to take in Gareth, but Yeshua lived two thousand years ago in Israel. He was born in Nazareth, and taught in that area for many years. Then he was arrested and faced trial under the Romans."

"He was subjected to a very cruel death," I continued, "and became a martyr. Years later, books were found about him and a religion called Christianity grew up, and spread all over the World."

"Guys, guys... this is way too much to take in! Are you saying you travelled back two thousand years and brought Yeshua to the present day?"

"Right."

Nik and I looked at each other. We told our Welsh friend about our trip to Israel and how we brought Yeshua forwards to our own time.

"And what about all the guys... John, Paul, Thomas..."

"Them too."

"All twelve?"

"Yes. But there was one more called Judas..."

"Judas? I've heard that name."

"Well, Yeshua didn't want him... said he wasn't ready."

Gareth looked back towards the stage. "In some ways, it makes perfect sense. He does seem like he's from another World..."

"We didn't really plan it – it just sort of 'happened'. And now it seems he's continuing where he left off two thousand years ago. The place is different, and the packaging updated, but the message is the same. Peace, Love and Choice."

"I just hope it will end better than last time," Nik said.

"Well, in that case, he's going to need some protection!"

We turned quickly to see Miranda and Crystal smiling at us. We were gobsmacked.

"Oh my god! How did you get here!" Nik exclaimed.

"We're from your future, remember? This is all ancient history to us... and a very important moment in history."

I introduced the women to Gareth, whose head was now spinning.

"You're from fifty–thousand years in the future?"

"Actually, closer to 48,000... but who's counting?" replied Miranda.

"So, any ideas about protecting the Wondrous One?" asked Crystal.

"The what?"

"That's what he'll be known as in the future," Miranda replied.

I could see Gareth's mind working again. I could almost see the thoughts taking shape in his mind before he blurted them out.

"King Arthur!" he exclaimed.

I had to hold myself back from laughing. Knights on horseback with swords and shields fighting the firepower of today's terrorists? What was he thinking?

"Ah, bright boy!" Miranda smiled, "and the right answer!"

"What?" I couldn't see the sense in this at all. "Now come on... let's talk seriously about this... he'll be dead within a week!"

"Even though you doubt it now, Joe, Arthur's knights will be able to protect Yeshua... with the addition of one other."

"Smirnoff!" gasped Niki.

***
Chapter Thirty–Two

The next day, it was difficult to get a handle on what had happened the previous morning. The last thing I remember was Yeshua singing a couple of songs with his band – 'Loving Strangers', and one I hadn't heard called 'The Time is Now'. The band consisted of our friendly disciples, of course. What had we done? Whatever it was, it now seemed imperative to protect Yeshua against any attempts on his life. There was no point explaining any of this to Yeshua himself; talking about King Arthur, Smirnoff, and two women from AD 50,000 wouldn't make any sense. It was hard enough for us to get our heads around it all.

Gareth volunteered to accompany me on a trip to Yorkshire to find Arthur and his knights, whilst Niki said she'd contact Smirnoff about his next assignment – and look after Yeshua and the boys at the same time. Gareth and I didn't have to be away for long. In fact, we could we back before we'd left if we wanted to. Was I dreaming all of this?

*

Our Welsh friend suggested returning to where we first met Arthur and his knights. Camelot was too dangerous with the King's nephew in control. So we planned to drive back up to the site of the old Roman Fort at Outlane, near Huddersfield, and jump to September 5th, AD 536 – a few days after our original meeting with the King.

Meanwhile, Niki left Yeshua and his clan relaxing at our home whilst she went to meet Smirnoff.

"Nikita! Long time no see!"

She was glad to meet up with the Russian again. The meeting place this time was the Botanical Gardens at Kew. As always, you could never find out what our hitman had been doing, but he said he'd been busy 'digging and planting things'.

"So how about old Joe?" Still trying to fix the World?"

They were sitting on a park bench in the Gardens, the Autumn breeze blowing leaves across the pathways. Smirnoff always pretended he knew nothing about anything – but that was just a cover.

"I heard you've been to Israel..."

Nik looked at him squarely in the eyes.

"How could you...?"

"I know everything Nikita," he smiled. "I was in Paris recently, and I watched a man talk. He was from Israel, and his name was Yeshua. He was a great, natural orator with a powerful, appealing message. He could be a new World leader. Oh, not like the presidents or kings we have here – they are mostly just puppets. I mean a spiritual leader – someone like Gandhi or Martin Luther King. That's what's lacking in the West today – no purpose, no higher desires beyond shopping, looking good and making money. But look around the world: The Middle East and North Africa have Islam, Israel has Judaism, India has Hinduism and the Jainism, Asia has Buddhism, the Japanese have their Shinto beliefs, and you Chinese have Taoism & Buddhism, as you know.

"But in the West, what do people have? An old, out–of–date Testament, and a Roman Sun–god called Mithras which has no meaning to anyone today. But I don't think you've come here today just to show me your holiday snaps."

"No, and I think you know what we want already."

The big Russian nodded.

"But this is not an easy task; Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jack Kennedy, and many, many other leaders were all shot. So, we have to be clever, very clever and out–think the opposition – stay one step ahead of them at all times. That is the only way." The Russian paused, thoughtfully. "You know, before guns were invented, it was not so difficult. A few bodyguards would be enough – they could stop anyone getting close to the King or Emperor. But today, with the power of these terrorists and their weapons, you'll need an army to protect this man. I could not do it alone – no–one could."

Nik smiled. "Well, we do have an army!"

"What, the British army? They won't do this. The SAS? They would be good – but why should they do it either? We're not talking about protecting a person of Royalty – we're talking about a man with a message who doesn't care about dying for a cause. If he's murdered, then we'll have a new religion – and maybe that's what people need." Smirnoff paused to look around the peaceful garden. Then looked back at Niki. "So, tell me then: what sort of army you have in mind, Nikita?"

"King Arthur and his Knights."

"Oh no, don't waste my time! Men on horses... with swords?"

Suddenly, Miranda and Crystal appeared - again!

"I know you! The women from Scotland!"

Miranda nodded. "We thought we'd find you here," she smiled.

"Well of course – you're from the future... you know everything! So, this idea of Nikita's... an ancient king and his men; please tell me it's crazy."

"It is not, and it will work," replied Miranda, "but you must work with them, train them, and Yeshua must agree to your ideas."

Smirnoff sighed deeply. In his heart of hearts, he could not see this working; but he could not refute the words of people from the future.

"Mr Smirnoff, where we come from, we can watch you all and see every possible outcome of any combination of actions," Crystal explained. "I mean, actually see it all – in any part of the World at any time in history – in great detail. And now, with the device you have given us, we can actually be there!"

"Okay, so we need to find Arthur first..." stated Smirnoff getting to his feet.

"Joe and Gareth are already on it," smiled Nik.

*

Gareth and I drove up to Huddersfield in the Camper Van. The plan was to meet Arthur, explain that his knights were desperately needed in Londinium, then time leap the lot of us to the twenty-first century. They certainly wouldn't all fit in the van, so I would take Arthur and a couple of other knights by train from Huddersfield station, whilst Gareth would drive the rest back to London. Yes, I know, prone to lots of things going haywire, but hey – that's time travel for you. I explained the idea to Gareth, who was strangely quiet after I'd finished.

"Okay mate... got the picture?" He nodded, his eyes still focussed on the road, his brow furrowed. "Just say if you think there's a problem, or it won't work." The Welshman sighed deeply and glanced at me, then back at the road.

"You know I like you Joe – I respect your ideas, and you've really changed my life. Bringing mam and dad back to me, taking me places I could only ever dream of going. I have to pinch myself every day to know it's all real. But, if you don't mine me saying so, I think you've got it all wrong this time."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Go on."

"Well, the first thing is... I'm having trouble believing what you told me yesterday about Yeshua. I know what Niki said about the remains of Arthur and Guinevere; but I was there, and I know what the history was before, and I see what it is today – I lived both lives! The same with mam and dad. But this time, it's difficult to believe what you've told me about the whole Christianity thing – particularly as there's no evidence. I mean, if you could show me a copy of this book you were talking about..."

"The Christian bible?"

"Yes... then I could believe it."

I would have loved to have given a copy of the bible to Gareth right there and then as proof of what I'd told him. But as we'd noticed so many times in the past, when we change history, things like that just vanish – as if we'd suddenly switched from one road to another, where all knowledge and memories of the first road had disappeared from the minds of those who travelled it. It was like comparing two people on a train, one who watches the whole journey from her window, and a travelling companion who sleeps through the whole trip. We stopped at a service station for a short break, and I took the wheel on the second leg of the journey.

"The other thing, Joe... I know it was me who suggested Arthur and his knights; but now we're actually doing it, it does seem a bit crazy defending Yeshua with men with swords and shields. In the sixth century – okay; but in our time, when people have bombs and rapid–fire assault rifles, it's a little mad!"

I nodded in understanding. "I don't think we're recruiting the knights for their weaponry or their horses, Gareth," I stated. "I think we need them for their strength, bravery, and total commitment to a cause. They'll die for their King, and I'm sure it'll be the same for Yeshua."

"So, they'll be given modern weapons?"

"The latest and most powerful weapons Smirnoff can get hold of!"

Gareth was quiet for a while. Then he had that furrowed–brow look again.

"What is it?" I said.

"Yeshua talks about peace and love – it's like the time in the late 1960's and seventies that mam and dad used to talk about. They showed me their photos from the time, in their sort of bright, hippy clothes, with flowers in their hair, and they listened to songs by the Beatles and other bands... All You Need is Love, Give Peace a Chance. I think Yeshua wants to take us back to that sort of enlightened time."

"I agree!"

"...but I don't think we can do that with high–tech weapons around."

I understood what he meant, but I had no answer for him. We were both quiet until we reached Outlane, near Huddersfield. Meeting up with Arthur and his men once again was the easy bit. Persuading them to travel with us to twenty–first century London was going to be the big challenge.

*

We booked into the Swan Inn at Outlane once again, and prepared our sixth century clothing for the jump. We planned to set the date roughly four weeks after our first meeting with Arthur and his knights – it might seem a little bit odd to meet them too soon after our last visit. We hoped to find him at the fort, and not off fighting the Saxons somewhere around the country.

After a short rest and a bite to eat at the Inn, we were ready. As before, we crossed the motorway on foot via the underpass, and headed towards the location of the ancient fort – we knew it pretty well from our previous visits now. Ahead of us was the golf course and we could see groups of people enjoying the sport in the distance. Not only that, there were three or four golfers pulling their golf carts behind us - en route to the course, presumably. It looked like one woman wanted to speak to us, but that was the last thing we needed. We increased our pace, but she seemed determined to catch us up. I sighed, and turned to face her.

"I've come to play the course," she smiled, "but I've never been here before – could you tell me where to find the clubhouse?"

She was certainly dressed for playing golf: white embroidered polo shirt with matching pink skirt, golf cap, sports sunglasses and white golf–shoes. Gareth answered the woman's question whilst I prepared my phone for the jump. "Well, we're not from around here either, but I think if you follow the path in that direction..." he said, pointing to a well–worn track through the grassed area, "I'm pretty sure you'll get there."

The lady smiled, said thank you, and set off in the direction Gareth pointed. The Welshman's eyes followed her closely along the path – she clearly made an impression on him.

"Okay, now mate – grab my arm!"

"Oh, and one other thing..."

I'd been concentrating on my phone, and Gareth had his eyes closed (he always does this when time travelling), so neither of us saw the lady turn on her heels and grab Gareth's shoulder.

The next thing we knew, the three of us had time–jumped back to AD 515!

"Oh brother!" I said under my breath.

I realised we would have to take the lady back to her own time period right away. But Percival, one of Arthur's knights, had already seen us.

"Joseph, Gareth! So good to see you both again... come inside, out of this treacherous rain."

It was indeed raining – pouring down – certainly not a good day for golf. The lady was staring at the knight who stood in front of a fortified building made of stone and wood. The rain was getting worse by the second, and she instinctively opened up her large golf umbrella.

"I'll take this," Gareth said, pulling the lady's golf cart up the gentle slope to the Fort.

"It's a sort of Theme Park," I said to her, "very new."

Percival beckoned us to rest in front of a large log fire to get dry whilst he went to find Arthur. We had jumped to October 6th, AD 515 which was considerably cooler – and wetter – than the sunny day in early September we had left. The lady, whom we discovered was called Muriel, was smiling and looking around.

"It's, err, quite authentic isn't it? Don't worry about your friends – you'll probably catch up with them at the clubhouse," Gareth reassured Muriel. "But you can't go without meeting the legendary King Arthur Pendragon!"

I explained how an old Roman Fort called Cambodunum was used by the real King Arthur and his knights as a base to fight against the Saxons in the north of England during the sixth century. Remains of it were discovered by archaeologists some time ago, and now a replica had been built, together with actors and a theme park.

"Oh, that's wonderful! So, you mean that King Arthur really existed... not just a story?"

"Well, you're about to find out!"

We sat for around five minutes, with Muriel admiring the décor of the building. There was something familiar about her... the way she looked and how she talked. Her speech was very unusual... certainly not British or American... but I was sure I'd heard it before. I really felt I knew her... someone I'd known from my university days perhaps?

"Greetings, we meet again! My dear Gareth and Joseph – it must be a month since we last cast eyes on each other. But where is the lovely Niki, and the brave and gallant Smirnoff?"

"They had to travel South on some business, but they plan to meet you again in Camlann when you return home," Gareth said in Welsh.

"Camlann... my dear home, and my sweet wife Gwenhwyfar. I must return soon, for I do not trust that nephew of mine." Arthur suddenly noticed Muriel gazing at some wall–hangings. "And who is this charming lady you have brought with you this time?" he smiled.

"Ah, this lady is one of Smirnoff's sisters. She has heard so much about her brother's visit, she accompanied us here today." At the time, I'd no idea what Gareth was saying – but whatever it was, the King seemed intrigued.

Muriel was now looking rather amused. Suddenly, she stood up and came over to greet Arthur.

"Fe'i gelwir un Muriel," she spoke in perfect Welsh. "Mae'n anrhydedd i gwrdd ag Arthur, brenin y Brydeinwyr."

"I guess that explains her unusual accent..." I whispered to Gareth, who nodded. "What did she say?"

"I am called Muriel, and it is an honour to meet Arthur, King of the Britons. Wait... He just asked her where she's from, and she answered Caerfyrddin. That's the Welsh name for Carmarthen. Oh!"

'What is it?"

"In the legends of King Arthur, Merlin was born in a cave outside of Caerfyrddin!"

We had discounted any ideas about Merlin being a real character from history – but maybe there was some truth in the legend?

Muriel and Arthur continued in deep conversation.

"Now Arthur's saying there's an old Roman Fort at Caerfyrddin, which was called Moridunum by the Romans, meaning 'Sea Fort'. He says that his father, a Roman Centurion, was stationed there at one time, and he knows the city well. Uh–oh!"

Arthur pointed towards Muriel's set of golf clubs, and asked about them. She pulled out one of the clubs and a few golf balls and led Arthur outside, closely followed by Percival and us. The rain had mostly eased off, so Muriel demonstrated how to hold the club, take the correct stance, and then hit the ball some distance.

"Ye gods! This is a very useful weapon indeed!" the King exclaimed. "Percival, could you a-fix metal spikes to the balls... this will make them far deadlier."

Muriel laughed out loud. "This is not a weapon Sir – it is a game!" She asked Percival for his dagger, one of the pennants she'd observed within the Great Hall and a pole. He immediately ran inside to get the things she needed. "Good. Now follow me." She marched about a hundred metres with the knight behind her. They stopped and she cut a cylindrical hole in the turf with the dagger, stuck the pole next to it and tied the pennant to the pole. "Mmm... the grass is too long for the green – but this will have to do."

She marched back with Percival to get the set of clubs.

"Now watch and learn..."

By this time, several knights and housekeepers and heard the noise and came to see what was going on. Muriel took her stance, swung at the golf ball very professionally and sent the ball flying towards the flag–stick, landing within a metre of the pole. Everyone applauded, and Gareth and I just looked at each other – astonished. Did this lady still believe this was a theme park, and the people around her were actors? Surely, she must have noticed the changes in the landscape after we time jumped: for one thing, the motorway had gone, and the castle had just suddenly appeared! Something was not right...

Arthur was delighted by all of this, and after trying to hit some balls near the flag a few times, he turned to Muriel.

"I am in your debt, dear lady, for your demonstration and must ask how I might obtain such equipment for this glorious game. My knights need this sort of distraction from the fierce battles we now face against the Saxons."

"Consider it a gift from me to you."

"This is very generous; but I cannot accept such a valuable and unusual gift without doing something in return."

"Actually, I think my friends Gareth and Joseph are in need of assistance. So, if you could help them, that would make me very happy." They both looked in our direction.

I was now totally lost... I could not understand what was happening, or why. Was this all coincidence? Why would Muriel say such a thing – she had no idea who we were or what we wanted. Or did she?

Whilst the King and his knights were experimenting with the game of golf, the lady approached us.

"Joe – I apologise for this 'little game'; I have been sent here by Crystal and Miranda: I am of their time. They thought you would need some bargaining power with the King. Now you have it."

As I looked closely at Muriel for the first time, now without her golf cap and sunglasses, I noticed her perfect unblemished features and perfect shape. She wore no make–up, but looked as though she did – and the shape of her face was different from most people: just like Miranda and Crystal. Although there was no need to convince me further, she carefully pulled out a mobile phone from a pocket: it was an exact copy of mine.

"Wow!" I breathed.

"So how many knights do you need?" she asked.

"We can fit three in the van..." replied Gareth.

"Then three it is – no more, no less. And you cannot ask for Arthur himself. Do not specify which knights you want – just let him choose the ones he can spare. And tell him it will be for one week only."

"One week!"

"Yes, and make sure you honour that promise – exactly one week only. Today is October 6th, AD 515. Make sure you return them by October 13th.

"Joe, I really don't know how we can protect Yeshua if we've only got one week..."

"Are you two naturally stupid, or is it your useless education system that makes you like this?" Muriel hissed.

Gareth and I looked at each other, and then it dawned on me.

"Oh! Sorry... this has been a lot to take in; we can keep them as long as we want, but in Arthur's time it must be only a week."

"Right – but don't bring them back as old men!"

***

Chapter Thirty–Three

In London, Niki and Smirnoff had arranged a meeting with Yeshua at our house. They took some time to carefully explain the need for body guards for 'The Wondrous One', but he was charmingly difficult to get through to.

"My friends, my good, honest, loyal, hardworking and well–meaning friends. I can give you my answer to this idea in one word."

"Which is?" Niki asked hopefully.

"No."

"But we've told you what could happen if you're murdered now... a new religion could be formed about you, and we'd be back to square one!"

"And one squared is also one," Smirnoff added.

Niki just stared at the Russian. "You're not helping Smirnoff."

"My brother and sister, we appreciate what you are trying to do for us, for our cause. But at the centre of everything, there must be Free Choice. So if one person wishes to wipe out my life, and that of my followers, then they are exercising their choice."

"But that's... that's just mad! What about the choice of everyone else on the planet – the people who want you alive?" Nik exclaimed.

"Life is an illusion my sister. You think Free Choice is the same as Free Will? No it is not. And I tell you this: if one day you do achieve Free Will, then you will see everything as I see it, and you will understand what I am saying. Free Choice means you have the choice between two ways to go: the low road, or the high road. The first returns you to Earth again and again – in the hope that one day you choose the high road to your Soul.

"You can only achieve Free Will on the high road. And nobody on that road would ever wish to harm another. On the low road, you are merely a puppet following the thoughts that are sent to you. You have no real choice once set in that direction.

"Your Shakespeare was right when he said: 'All the World's a stage, and the men and women merely players'. This is the truth about all life on Earth. Our lives are but moments in the time of the Universe, and we have had many many lives, many moments.

"I am grateful that you brought me here to this century so I may continue my work. I see so much conflict in this World today, and I wish to bring Peace and Love to all that desire it. You can give me your bodyguards, if you wish; but they must not prevent me fulfilling my mission wherever I travel on Earth. They will have no say in where I go, what I say, or what I do. This is my only condition. And if you agree, I welcome them as brothers."

Niki and Smirnoff stared at each other. Then the Russian nodded, and Niki said, "Thank you Yeshua."

***
Chapter Thirty–Four

I did as Muriel directed and asked Arthur if we could have the loan of three of his knights to defend our village in the South of England. Smirnoff was in Siberia tending to his sick wife and children, our story went, so we could not depend on his help. Arthur agreed, and gave us Bedivere, Gawain and Geraint. I promised they would be away for one week only. Muriel said she would hang around with Arthur and his knights before returning home. Probably giving them more golf lessons.

The tricky bit now was preparing the three knights for the time leap to the twenty–first century. I wanted to mentally prepare them for the trip, but what do you say?

"You must have done this dozens of times, Joe," Gareth reminded me. "Just go with the flow." We reached a suitable spot near to the road leading to the future motorway underpass, and stopped.

"Where are your horses tethered Sire?" Geraint asked. "Our own are yonder, beyond the fort," he said, pointing towards the East.

"Are you all familiar with Myrddin Wyllt?" Gareth asked the knights in Welsh." They smiled back.

"Of course... who has not heard of madman Myrddin!" Bedivere replied. "He is legendary." The knights laughed.

"Well, we have learned from Master Myrddin, and he has taught us how to travel through time!" The knights were clearly very amused.

"Then if you have such a power, please entertain us – we would like to see what the madman has taught you. Take us to the future!"

Gareth instructed the knights to link arms and hold their equipment firmly whilst I prepared the phone. I set the time to our own present – and we were gone.

*

It was naturally very difficult to explain to the three knights what had actually just happened, so we just went with the flow – as Gareth suggested.

"Ye gods! Where have you taken us Joseph?"

"We are still at Cambodunum, but in a different time period," Gareth explained.

"Then where is the Fort... I see nothing of it!" exclaimed Bedivere.

"There are some remains, but very little. We have just travelled fifteen hundred years into the future! Follow me..."

Gareth had researched the excavations around the ancient Roman Fort since Victorian times. A part of a road had been uncovered, and sections of the fort's ramparts unearthed.

"There – that is all that is left on this side of the road... there is more on the other side of the motorway..."

I looked at their blank and confused faces; it was imperative to move them on quickly now. Gareth told them we would be heading for Londinium in our horseless carriage. Together, we ushered the knights towards our vehicle and took the motorway westwards towards Manchester. Gareth, me and three knights from the sixth century – in a camper van.

*

It was late when we arrived in London with the three knights. Understandably, they were mentally exhausted by the whole mind–boggling experience of time travelling to twenty–first century London and needed sleep. Niki went with Gareth and booked them into the same Travelodge as the disciples, so at least Arthur's men could share their experience with others who had been there done that (if they could find a common language, of course). She told me she got some strange looks when they ushered the three men in sixth century dress through the Travelodge entrance.

"I'd like to book a room for these gents please – just them, not me or him of course.

"Sorry, I can't put so many adults in one room Miss..."

"Okay, well I booked eleven guys in here a few days ago – how about one of these shares with the guy in the single room?"

"Well, if it's good for you Miss, it's fine with me. How many nights?"

Niki studied Arthur's men. "It looks like three."

Gareth was also very tired, so we put him up at our place. But before hitting the sack, Nik filled us both in on her meeting with Yeshua earlier in the day. His acceptance of the bodyguards was great news – mainly because I could not face the idea of taking the knights back home so quickly. Gareth told Nik about our 'chance' meeting with Muriel, and we had a good laugh about that. Particularly the part about her teaching King Arthur golf.

"You do realise that you've probably advanced the game of golf by about five hundred years!" Nik exclaimed. That would be an interesting thing to see, I thought.

*

The next morning, one of the disciples came to tell us that Yeshua would be giving another talk in London that coming Friday.

"That's great Thomas... what's the venue?"

"Ven u...?"

"I mean, where is he performing... talking?"

"He said it's place they play game with ball."

"Okay. Do they kick the ball, or hit it with a bat?"

"A bat? Just moment..."

He used his translator app on his phone (yes, they all had smart phones now).

"Bat: a main–ly noc–turn–al animal..."

"No–no, not that sort of bat!"

I demonstrated hitting a ball with a bat, and kicking a ball."

"Ah, got it. Kick... kick–ball place... I think place called 'Wem Blee'... or something like this," he smiled.

"Wembley stadium?"

"Yes–yes... you got it! See you later!"

"Wait! What time on Friday?"

"Oh, he said seven and half... in evening. We all go. Bye!"

Niki had been doing something in the garden, so I broke the news when she came inside.

"How d'you fancy going to a fantastic show at Wembley Stadium this Friday evening?"

"Oh my god, no! Really? You're taking me to see Ed Sheeran?"

"No! It's Yeshua and Co... he's a big star now."

Things were beginning to move very quickly. Whenever I looked at the news on the TV or online, everyone seemed to be talking about Yeshua and the Wembley show. And we only had two days to prepare our security!

*

Even though Yeshua was supposedly living with us, we saw him less and less often. Sometimes he stayed with the disciples, or god knows where, and never returned my calls. It was getting more and more difficult to have a conversation with him. But I suppose he was doing what he had to do, and all we could do was be there for him when he needed us. A bit like having a teenage son in the family.

Smirnoff came round the next day so that he could meet up with Bedivere, Gawain and Geraint. The Russian still thought this was a stupid idea, but this was what he'd been asked to do, so he'd give it his best shot. Gareth had already briefed the knights on their mission in Londinium on route home from West Yorkshire, so now we just needed Smirnoff to demonstrate the defensive weaponry at their disposal. For this, he rounded up the knights and headed out into the Hertfordshire countryside with Gareth as translator.

"Right you men. Watch carefully – and learn."

"Gwyliwch a dysgwch," Gareth translated.

In a small field, he fixed two types of body–armour on two trees. One was the metal type worn by Arthur's knights, and the other a Kevlar level 4 bulletproof vest.

He walked about forty paces away from the trees holding some weapons. One was a rapid fire machine gun, and the other a snipers rifle. He took aim at each piece of hanging armour, and let fly with both weapons. The knights immediately ran for cover.

"Told you this was stupid," the Russian said under his breath.

Then they went to inspect the armour. The sixth century variety was completely shot through to pieces, with every bullet piercing the armour. But the Kevlar vest stopped all the ammunition. The knights were incredulous.

"We try!" Bedivere exclaimed.

"He said, 'We try', Gareth shouted to me.

"Yes I know – he was speaking English!"

The knights actually knew quite a few Anglo–Saxon words, which of course had found their way into modern English. Or maybe they'd learned from the disciples.

Next was hand–to–hand combat. We think Smirnoff is strong, but compared to these guys his resistance was nothing. They, of course, were brought up on hand–to–hand combat and had tremendous power, strength and shear will to defeat and enemy. In close combat, it was either kill or be killed.

The men took a break and Smirnoff came over to talk to Gareth.

"I was wrong about these guys, my friend – they're fiercesome! As good as any Russian soldier. Merciless in war – killing machines if they need to be. And they will defend their King to the last man."

*

Friday was coming closer. Yeshua had stayed with us on Thursday night and explained his plans to us. He had been very busy with his website, he said, and apologised for not giving us as much attention as he would have liked. His number of followers was growing daily, and he was now employing the disciples on replying to emails, updating the website and Youtube and facebook pages, and uploading twitter comments on a whole range of social, spiritual, scientific and educational topics. (He stayed well away from anything even remotely political).

"I want to upset the apple–cart, if that is the right expression. You know, if you have old building that is badly in need of repair, sometimes it's not enough just to fill in cracks. You need to pull the whole bloody thing down and start again. That is what I want to do."

"Some people want to hold on to the old... it's comfortable," Nik observed.

"Exactly right! So we must make things uncomfortable for them, and cause them to want change!"

"The truth can be uncomfortable," I added.

"You know Joe, that is why most people want to avoid it; but we shall not!"

I was looking forward to Friday.

***
Chapter Thirty–Five

As we left the underground station, and walked amongst a throng of people on their way to Wembley Stadium, the enormity of what was happening suddenly struck me. This was going to be bigger than anything I'd previously experienced... bigger even than Chelsea winning the Champions League! Maybe even bigger than the Beatles. I remember listening to an interview with John Lennon, where he described their experience on tour around the World as being 'at the centre of a tornado'. Just then, I felt like I was on the edge of one.

Yeshua had given Niki and me front row seats, whilst Smirnoff would be coordinating security for the show, with Gareth translating for the knights. We were in our seats by seven–fifteen. At seven–thirty it all began.

There were no fireworks, no fanfare. A hush fell across the audience, who were waiting, anticipating. In the crowds behind us I saw people dressed in brightly–coloured clothes, banners with quotations from Yeshua, and balloons everywhere. A contagious excitement ran through the stadium. A spotlight was switched on the stage and Yeshua emerged from the shadows and walked right into it.

Delirium hit Wembley. Outside, many would think a big pop star really had just hit the stage – or maybe England had won the World Cup. But no: it was Yeshua.

"Welcome!"

"The time is now!" someone screamed out. People laughed, and then all went quiet.

"Indeed. And the place is here: planet Earth. Have you ever thought how many people there are in the World today?"

"Too many!" one person shouted More laughter.

"I tell you this, there is exactly the right number of people in this World. And nobody is here by chance. Each and every one of you wanted to be here on this planet – just as you wanted to be here tonight. You decided, a long time ago, before you were born, that you wanted to experience life in a body on Earth. You planned and designed your lives to fit the goals you set yourselves. You designed your patterns of thought, you chose your gender, your sexuality, your body shape, where you were going to live, who your parents would be – your whole life... all before you were born. Of course, your parents had to agree to taking you on. Maybe that was a difficult decision for them? Or perhaps an easy one. All these arrangements were made when you were in a higher state of consciousness, a higher state of being. Which means that looking at your lives so far, maybe you think you made one or two mistakes? If you've got a big nose like me, and you think it's pretty ugly... think again. You chose that nose!

"I tell you this, everything is so for a reason – nothing is out of place. When you arranged your patterns of thought, you included choices and options at points throughout your lives. When looking at life from your higher self, some of these options might not serve you, in terms of what you want to achieve; but the choices have to be there none–the–less.

"There was once a teacher who took care of his students. He loved his students, and wanted them to achieve their dreams and do well in his subject – which happened to be Mathematics. And it came to pass that the teacher set an end of year test for the students, which was multiple choice in nature. Students like these types of exams: if they don't know the answer, they still have a chance of being right. But when the students studied the paper, they were puzzled, confused. For when they read the first question, they noticed that the four answer options were all exactly the same. And the same was true of each question. So one student raised his hand and said: 'Teacher – I think there is a mistake on the test paper. All the answers are the same!' And the teacher answered, 'There is no mistake my son. I know you would all like to attain one–hundred percent in this test – so I am helping you to attain your goal.' 'But teacher,' the student replied, 'the test will prove nothing – we cannot demonstrate what we have learned, or not learned!' And the teacher smiled. 'Yes my child – and that is why you should never want that which you have not earned.'

"So it is in life. You have all been blessed with tracks of thought – one leading towards your evolution as a universal being, and others leading away from it. And together with these thought tracks, you must have free choice; for without choice, there can be no evolution. I look around the World, and see people living with no choice, for certain options have been taken away from them by their societies. As children, by their parents and their schools; and as adults, by their governments and their peers. In the past in this country, and today in many parts of the world, your choices are restricted by your age, gender, race, colour, sexuality and position in society. Without choice, souls return again and again to this Earth in an effort to break through these indoctrinations and finally exercise their Free Choice. Free Choice is the gateway to Evolution.

"And so my friends, tomorrow we will form the Free Choice Society, and join with other organisations, and finally bring true freedom of choice back to all the people. Then, and only then, can all souls break the karmic cycle and finally evolve from this planet."

Everyone cheered loudly at Yeshua's words, and started chanting 'Free Choice, Free Choice!' It was a wonderful, joyous atmosphere – but not for long. Gunshots rang out from inside the stadium and people screamed. Bullets pinged onto the stage, very close to Yeshua – someone was clearly targeting the man himself. Everybody ducked or ran for cover, but Yeshua stood his ground, whilst the three knights provided an armoured human shield around him. Meanwhile Smirnoff and his other security guards headed off to locate the source of the shots. Some people in the front rows had been shot – we could see blood. It looked like at least one was dead.

Niki grabbed me and stared into my eyes.

"I've had enough Joe... no more of this, please! No more time travel."

After making sure the wounded were being attended to, I led her safely away, in tears.

***
Chapter Thirty–Six

The next day was one of much reflection. Yeshua was concerned not for his own safety, but for all the people who came to hear him talk – including us. But this would not deter him from his mission – only harden his resolve to talk to more and more people around the World about his ideas. At the same time, he was thankful for the protection of Arthur's knights onstage, and admitted he was wrong to not acknowledge the need for them before.

The biggest effect was on Niki. She was far more sensitive than me about these things and spent most of the day in the bedroom, or walking around our garden. She'd always had a bit of a love–hate relationship with time travel, and now hate had tipped the balance: she told me categorically that she did not wish to do it ever again. And I believed her.

Yeshua thanked us for everything we had done for them, and told us they were moving on to Paris and then Rome for his next stage of his European tour. Smirnoff agreed to go with him and provide security, and the knights would be part of that. He promised to bring them back to London within about four weeks so that we could return them to Arthur.

*

The next month was very difficult for the two of us. At first, I was giving Nik positive news on the World tour, but she would either totally ignore it, or just get up and walk away. I hardly ever saw her smile. I didn't even mention the words 'time travel' during this period, and tried to get her to go for walks along the river, or into the hills, but all she wanted to do was immerse herself in her paintings and books. When she did talk, it was mostly about family stuff – and never about places we'd time travelled to.

A month was up, and Smirnoff returned with the knights to London, as promised. They seemed to have changed quite a lot – they could speak some good English now, and a few words of Hebrew. Niki stayed with her parents in London during this time – she said she needed this space to get over the Wembly experience.

Gareth took some time off work to join Yeshua's tour, and together we duly returned the knights to where they belonged: sixth century England. He was naturally concerned about Niki after the Wembly experience. I explained that it wasn't just that – it was a combination of other ordeals we'd time travelled through. First they was Xi'an in ancient China, where we were nearly being killed by crossbow–wielding soldiers after she damaged her ankle. Next, there was being arrested by guards and locked in a prison cell at the time of King Arthur. And then being thrown in a carriage and taken towards London for treason against King Edward I. The final blow was Wembley, where only two seats away from us a young woman had died from gunshot injuries. It was all too much for her. Gareth understood, but told me he would still like to time travel with me sometime – if I was ever up for it.

I drove my Welsh friend back to Nottingham, and asked him to keep in touch. Then headed back to London.

When I returned to the house, Niki was there.

"Can we walk along the river?"

Whenever she mentioned the river, I knew she wanted a serious talk.

So one cool November evening, we walked along the North Bank of the Thames, and then crossed the river at Chelsea Bridge. She stopped half–way along and took something out of her pocket.

"This is for you Joe." It was a new iphone.

I was taken by surprise.

"Oh..." I carefully opened the wrapping paper, and found a box containing the very latest model phone.

"It's got some great apps," she smiled.

I looked at the phone: Nik always had excellent taste.

"But not time travel, I guess?"

"No, sorry."

"You do realise that without time travel, we can't make the sort of money we used to?" I said in a last minute attempt to prevent what I thought was coming next.

"Joe, we have all the money we could ever want! We're multi-billionaires! We can live off the interest very comfortably for the rest of our lives!"

She was right.

"So I suppose you want this?" I took my old phone out of my pocket.

She held the device, smiled and kissed me on the lips.

"I hope you don't mind, but I secretly copied all your data onto the new phone last night."

"Very thoughtful of you," I half-smiled. We just looked at each other for several seconds, both accepting the inevitable. She removed the SIM card from my old phone, returning the card to me, then with all her strength threw the phone into the Thames. I watched as it hit the water with a little bounce, then disappeared below the waves. And with it, all my hopes and dreams of ever being a time traveller again.

THE END

*****

This is the end of Time Leap 2, but not the end of Niki and Joe's adventures.

Look out for Time Leap 3: Double Fantasy, the next book in the Time Leap series.

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