 
Seven Rules

By

Dayle MacKenzie

Published by Dayle MacKenzie at Amazon

Copyright Dayle MacKenzie 2013

Cover Copyright 2013 by Dayle MacKenzie

All rights reserved.

The author has asserted his moral and legal right to be recognised as the Author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organisations or persons is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

Amazon Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents
Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Part Two,Chapter 1

Epilogue

The Seven Rules Of The Talisman

**1**. When used as a whole, the Talisman will carry its holder forward and back through time.

**2**. The Talisman must be in physical contact with its holder to function.

**3**. The Talisman is made of two halves, each of which opposes the other. When separated, one half will travel forward to the future, while its opposite half can only travel back into the past.

**4.** A Talisman half used on its own is unreliable and needs a 'key' to link it to the time it is travelling to. A 'key' may be any object created at the time the holder of the Talisman wishes to travel to.

**5**. The holder will stay in the time the Talisman is set to so long as they are in physical contact with the 'key'. If the 'key' is removed, the holder will return to the time from which they came.

**6**. The Talisman halves seek each other out. They also seek previous holders or 'keys'. This is part of the Talisman's unreliability, as each half will transport it's holder to the time they deSire but it may not deliver them to the expected location.

**7**. Whoever wears a Talisman half cannot be harmed by it so long as they carry a 'key'. If the setting on the Talisman is changed before the 'key' is removed, the holder will not return to their time. Instead their physical and spiritual being will be torn between times and they will cease to exist.

Chapter One

Central America, Late 16th Century.

Käpu'n sat hidden in the shadows of the undergrowth as he watched the Priests guards go by. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye as the man next to him surged forward. Käpu'n grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back.

"No Acan. Stay here!" he hissed.

"Why?" said Acan looking agitated. "There are only five of them. We can take them easily enough and get the information we need."

Käpu'n shook his head.

"We already have people inside the Priests palace looking. Yes we can take these few guards, but they are only guards. What will they know? And then many more will come and we are too few to fight them all. Be patient."

Käpu'n watched Acan anxiously as the big man weighed up his options. The other warriors were watching too. It was a test of his leadership. Käpu'n was younger and smaller than Acan and many of them thought the bigger man should have been their leader. The elders thought otherwise recognising Käpu'n's cunning and skill.

Finally Acan shook his head and smiled.

"Yes," he said as he patted Käpu'n on the shoulder. "But we only have a short time to act. The High Priest will sacrifice the future boy and the children soon. Your spies in the palace have been good in the past, but this time they are too slow."

Käpu'n looked around the group as he inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. His leadership appeared safe, but Acan had made a good point.

"I agree, Acan but..."

Käpu'n stopped talking as Acan tapped him on the shoulder and pointed back towards the path. A lone priest was strolling casually along, without a care in the world. Käpu'n bristled at the man's arrogance as he watched him pass by.

"I can not believe he is travelling without body guards," Acan said.

"Perhaps those guards we saw just before were his," a warrior from behind added.

"He must not fear death if he let his guards get so far ahead," said another.

Käpu'n turned to Acan.

"I think we have just found the source of the information we need. What say you Acan?"

"I think you are right!" Acan said with a sinister smile as he stepped forward.

Acan stalked the priest silently, and then took a swing at the man from behind. His huge hand smacked the priest around the side of the head, stunning him as it knocked him to the ground.

"My friend and I would like a word with you little man," Acan said as he grabbed the priest by his hair and dragged him back towards the trees. Acan was in a dark mood. This man would talk. He would tell everything and then he would die for his sins.

Chapter Two

England, 1936.

Archie sat with his head in his hands rubbing his temples to relieve the stress and fatigue that was giving him a headache. The focal point of this stress was a huge map of the world covering the wall in front of him. Sitting under the glow of a spotlight, it dominated the room.

Pinned to the map were a series of ribbons tracing the stopovers of a flight from London to Sydney, Australia. The ribbons marked the route taken by Archie's brother, Ed, who was trying to fly from England to Australia in under four days.

The last ribbon hung limp and unpinned because Ed had failed to reach Singapore from India. He was several hours overdue.

"Send another telegram!" roared a voice from the corner of the room.

Archie looked up and saw the menacing outline of his father, surrounded by a cloud of tobacco smoke as he stepped out of shadows into the spotlight. The man at the desk next to Archie scurried away to do as he was told.

Archie sighed.

"There's no point Father." he said. "We sent one only a half hour ago and they said they'd reply as soon as they heard anything."

Archie's father spun round and glared at him. His face was scarlet with rage and his huge walrus moustache twitched. He pulled the cigar out of his mouth and stabbed it in Archie's direction.

"This is your fault you know! You couldn't help yourself could you? He's out there now because you dared him to do it!

Archie opened his mouth to reply, but there was nothing he could say. He'd been waiting for this accusation all night and his father was right. He'd goaded Ed into the flight, teasing him that there was no way he could match Archie's own achievements as an aviator.

And now Ed was missing. Telegrams from the area reported huge unexpected storms sweeping across Ed's path. Ed would be lucky if his little de Havilland Comet airplane hadn't broken up in mid air, smashed to pieces by the violence of the storms.

Archie stood up and began to walk out of the room.

"Where are you going?" his father yelled after him.

Archie didn't stop.

"On my way to make amends," he said over his shoulder as he opened the door.

"It's it bit late for that now! What on earth can you do?" the old man asked.

Archie stopped at the door and looked back at his father.

"I'll just have to go and find him." he said as he walked out.

Chapter Three

Anderson... Anderson... ANDERSON!! Wake up boy!"

A voice was rudely interrupting Andy Anderson's dreams.

Andy woke to find his mate Tim dragging him out of his seat to avoid the teacher who was yelling at them. Self preservation won out over loyalty and Tim let Andy go, sliding past the teacher as he went.

Mr. Watson, a.k.a 'The Screaming Skull', was a skeletal little man whose skin was stretched impossibly tight over his bald head. Andy could see the blood pumping in his temples, which was a bad sign.

"Sorry Sir," he said grabbing his bag as he scrambled out of his seat. "Just dozed off for a minute. Won't do it again."

"You're pushing your luck Anderson," the Skull spat. "You don't need me to remind you how lucky you are to be in this school."

"Trouble Mr Watson?" a voice from the front of the bus broke in. It was Mr Brown, Andy's history teacher.

"No. Just Anderson being lazy again. Nice of you to join us, by the way."

The Skull's voice dripped with sarcasm. Mr Brown was unperturbed.

"I telephoned the rector this morning and told him I would meet you here. I presume you got the message?"

"Yes, of course," replied the Skull.

Andy knew this was his cue to slip past the Skull and escape. Tim was outside the bus waiting for him.

"You're gonna have to be careful Andy. You know the Skull and some of his faculty mates have it in for you. You're on final warning as it is."

"Yeah I know," said Andy irritably.

Andy knew Tim was right. He'd been struggling since arriving at Fendalton Private School for Boys. Andy was the boy from the rough end of town who'd got into Fendalton on a scholarship funded by anonymous sources. He did not fit in and had few friends, apart from Tim.

Tim met Andy during the first week of school when Andy decked a few of the crueller boys who had been taunting the two of them. Tim thought Andy would be expelled, but somehow he stayed on. The rumour was that Andy had mysterious connections.

Andy's rescuer, Mr Brown was new to Fendalton and taught history to the junior school. His classes the only ones Andy really enjoyed. He'd been looking forward to today, because the field trip to the 20th Century exhibition at the museum was Mr Brown's idea.

The downside was that the only teacher free to accompany Mr Brown was the Skull, who was now addressing the class.

"We will divide into two groups, half with me and the other half with Mr Brown. My group will travel anti-clockwise around the museum while Mr Brown's will travel clockwise. At midday we will meet at the main hall near the airplane display, and then break for lunch."

He turned to Mr Brown.

"Does that suit you Sir?"

Mr Brown looked bemused.

"Not quite what I had in mind Mr Watson, but I'm sure we'll manage."

He turned to the class.

"Right you over there; yes you. What's your name?'

"Dixon Sir,"

"Right, all of you from Dixon to Anderson and Meadows over there, come with me."

"Do those two have to come with us Sir?" asked a spotty boy at the front. "Anderson's a psycho and Meadows is a bit... well, you know."

Mr Brown's eyes narrowed as he glared at the boy.

"No, I don't know. Please enlighten me with your assessment of our two friends at the back of the class. But wait just a second while I call them over so they can hear it."

Spotty boy went pale and shrank away. He'd seen Andy the day he dealt with the bullies.

"No, that's fine Sir. They can come."

Mr Brown glared at the boy then turned towards the door.

"Right class, follow me," he yelled over his shoulder.

There were two specific areas of the 20th Century exhibition Andy wanted to see. One was the music and entertainment section. He'd heard that there were fantastic displays of all the great bands of the late 20th century; old bands that few of his class mates knew of, like The Who, The Beatles, Pink Floyd and The Rolling Stones.

Andy's dad had left years ago, but Andy still had his massive collection of vinyl albums by these old bands. Andy played the records again and again.

The other exhibit he wanted to see was the aviation display. Andy lived under the flight path of the local airport and when his mother was away, which was most of the time; he would often lie in the back yard and watch the big jets fly over. He was fascinated by them.

"Keep up Anderson and stop dreaming will you!" Mr Brown called from down the corridor.

"Coming Sir." Andy said as he trotted to catch up.

Chapter Four

The door opened and the old man stepped out of the car. His driver leant in and helped him up.

"Thank you John," he said. "It's not getting any easier."

The driver smiled. He'd noticed his employer had slowed markedly in recent months. The old man shivered in the grey winter's day. He didn't like winter anymore, especially in this city.

"That's what you get for building a city on a swamp," he thought to himself as he buttoned up his overcoat.

The driver handed the old man a small box.

"It's very cold, Sir. Are you sure you don't want me to do this whilst you wait in the car?"

"No son, I can do it. I've been waiting over fifty years for this day, so a little bit of a chill isn't going to stop me. Walk me up to the entrance and wait there for me, will you?"

The driver took the old man's arm and they walked slowly towards the museum. The old chap grimaced as his joints complained bitterly climbing up the stairs to the entrance. He'd given his body a hard time in his youth and now it was paying him back. A pretty mother and her young son politely stopped to let him go ahead. He thanked them as he shuffled through the door.

Inside the museum he was greeted by its familiar warmth and smell. He'd been there hundreds of times and it never changed. Turning right, he shuffled down the corridor towards the 20th Century Technology exhibition.

A few minutes later he stood in front of a beautiful mock-up of a 1930's de Havilland Comet racing plane and a life-sized wax figure of its pilot. It was impressive and effective. It should be; the old man had paid an eye watering amount of money for it.

"Hello Ed," he said to the figure. "Don't worry old chap, we'll soon be there to rescue you and then the fun will start all over again."

The figure maintained its empty gaze. The old man didn't seem too bothered by the lack of response. He looked around the room to check he was alone, then reached into his pocket and brought out what he'd been carrying. It looked like nothing more than a brooch with a leather necklace and a metal clasp.

He looked at the strange writing on the front of it, checking one last time it had been set correctly. Finally satisfied, he stepped around the barrier and put the item in the figure's hand. He stood back briefly looking at his work, then turned and walked off as briskly as his old joints would let him. He could hear the boys coming down the corridor.

Chapter Five

The boys followed Mr Brown down the darkened corridor. As they got closer they could hear the sound of various airplanes coming from the display beyond. Andy was still trotting to catch up when he bumped into the old man coming the other way. The two stared at each other.

There was a pause, and then the old man smiled and shook his head. His face looked strangely familiar to Andy.

"Hello there, young fellow." he said. "You seem very excited about the aviation exhibition. Make sure you see the display about the pioneering aviators, Archie and Edmund Spencer –Brown."

Andy had read about the history of aviation and knew many of the big names. He'd never heard of the Spencer-Browns before; whoever they were.

"The Spencer –who's?" he asked somewhat confused.

The old man smiled.

"Listen, I have no idea who you're talking about and I have to go." Andy said as he tried to slide past.

"You would be surprised about exactly who I know, Andrew Anderson," the old man said with a chuckle.

Andy suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"How did you know my - ?"

"Come on Andy!" Tim called.

Andy took his cue from Tim.

"Who was the old guy you were talking to?" asked Tim as Andy caught up.

"No idea," said Andy. "Just some crazy old dude who insisted I look at some flyers I've never heard of. What's even weirder, he knew my name."

"How did he know that?" said Tim looking back at the old man shuffling down the hall.

"Don't know," said Andy as they entered the aviation display.

On the other side of the door the class found themselves in a large hall filled with aircraft displays of all kinds.

They could sit in the cockpits of famous aircraft, surrounded by video screens simulating such things as dog fighting in a 1940's Spitfire, attack missions in a Harrier jet, or dropping emergency supplies in a Hercules air-lifter.

'Big and Fast' was a virtual reality airliner simulator and was the centrepiece of the exhibition. The 'pilot' sat in his seat with his virtual-reality helmet on and took off from an exotic Pacific island in a huge 1930's flying boat. After takeoff, the plane morphed into a thundering 1950's airliner with huge propellers spinning on either side of the cockpit. A few minutes later the plane turned into a massive 1970's Boeing 747 before its final transformation into a supersonic Concord flying 12 miles high at twice the speed of a bullet.

Andy was on visual overload. This was almost too much for him. If he liked airplanes before, he loved them now.

"Let's line up for the 'Big & Fast' thing and look at the other things later," suggested Tim.

Andy hated waiting.

"You go ahead. I'm gonna have a look around."

While Tim joined the queue, Andy started to investigate the hall. He moved steadily around, absorbing information like a human sponge. The only thing to dampen his enthusiasm was the arrival of the Skull who wanted to beat the lunch rush to the museum café.

Andy didn't care. He'd miss lunch before he would leave any part of this hall undiscovered. He walked around the corner and stopped. In front of him was the only life-sized display in the whole room. Andy read the text.

'This display is a life-sized replica of the famous de Havilland Comet race plane registered G-ACST. The Comets were built for the 1934 McRobertson air race from England to Australia; however G-ACST was not completed in time for the race.

Her sister airplane G-ACSS named 'Grosvenor House' piloted by Mr C Scott and Mr T Campbell-Black won in a time of 71 hours. Today thousands of people fly this very same trip comfortably in less than 24 hours; however this flight by Scott and Campbell-Black created a sensation in 1934.

G-ACST was completed and sold to Mr Edmond Spencer-Brown in 1935. Mr Spencer-Brown was fast becoming an aeronautical superstar with a number of record flights.

On the 24th of February 1936, Mr. Spencer-Brown left Croydon airport near London in an attempt to reach Australia solo in less than three days. He made two re-fuelling stops in Iraq and India. His next stop was to be Singapore, but he never arrived. An extensive search was mounted for him, but no trace was found.

In 1993 a team surveying a small volcanic island off the coast of Indonesia found the remains of both G-ACST and Mr Spencer-Brown. His diary notes state he was injured during a crash landing on the 26th of February and managed to survive several weeks until his medical supplies ran out. His last entry in the diary was the 7th of April, 1936.

In a sad footnote to this story, Mr Spencer-Brown's brother Archie, also a noted aviator and World War 1 hero, died in an aircraft crash in the Swiss Alps on the 8th of March 1936 whilst flying to Singapore to search for his brother.

In this display you will see several genuine items collected from the crash site as used by Mr Spencer-Brown, including his diary, which survived the long years on the deserted island.

The text went on some more, but Andy had the gist of it, so he stopped reading and looked up to survey the scene.

The Comet was lying on its belly and had realistic looking accident damage. It was surrounded by tropical plants, sand, and a makeshift camp site. In the middle of this scene sat a man in his late 20s or early 30s. He was an expensive wax model, looking tanned and unshaven in torn clothing with a bandage around his leg and a tangled mat of dark hair. He was sitting on the remains of part of the plane and appeared to be writing in a book. Andy was hard-pressed to tell he wasn't real.

There were a number of items laid out in front of him, some of which, Andy noted, were mentioned in the text he'd just read. Above them were three video screens that showed old photos and film footage of the de Havilland Comet planes and Edmond Spencer-Brown.

Overall, it was very impressive. The sort of thing you would expect on a Hollywood movie set.

Andy was just about to turn and walk away when a thought struck him. He looked back at the scene. The lighting seemed to be focused on the marooned pilot and whatever he was writing. Andy read the text again.

'In this display you will see several genuine items...'

"Yadda yadda, blah blah. Ah, here it is."

'His diary which remarkably survived the long years on the deserted island.'

"Surely these idiots haven't left this man's diary within reach of the likes of me," Andy thought to himself.

Andy had a look around. He was hidden from view with no one in sight and no barrier to stop him.

"Let's have a look at that diary then," he said to himself as he stepped over the rope barriers.

In two strides he was up to the wax figure. It looked no less convincing up close. Andy knew he was way out of line and would get into serious trouble if he was caught, but this was just too good a chance to pass up. His ears were straining for any sound of someone approaching. His heart rate accelerated and he could feel his pulse pounding through his body.

"Scuse me, old chap," he said in his best English accent in an effort to remain calm.

He lent forward and slid the book out from under the figure's hand, half expecting it to protest and grab him by the wrist.

"Yes!" he said, almost as if he'd had to fight for it.

He stood up and took a closer look at the book. It was a diary dated 1936. It had been red or crimson once, and bound with expensive looking gold trim, but having spent years on an island somewhere it was tattered and faded.

Andy couldn't believe it.

"Why would they leave this out here and not just put a copy or something in its place?"

He opened the diary and was about to begin reading when something caught his eye. It seemed wrong; out of place. Andy closed the journal and bent down again to have a closer look at the object in the figure's other hand. It looked like some sort of charm. Its body was round and had smaller circles inside it. On the face of the pendant was a series of figures made up of dots and dashes. Andy had seen them before, but he just couldn't think where. A long piece of leather cord was looped through an eyelet at the top and at the end of the cord was a metal clasp.

"It's a necklace," Andy said to himself. "But it's a bit weird for a necklace."

It looked ancient and mystical. Unlike anything he'd seen before.

"No, it's a... I read a book about it," Andy was struggling for the word. "Yes! That's it. It's a Talisman!"

Having renamed the necklace a Talisman, Andy felt honour-bound to try it on. His crisis of conscience over the diary was long gone. He knew if he were caught now he would be up to his neck in trouble, but he reached out and picked the Talisman up regardless. It felt warm, almost alive in his hand, so much so he nearly dropped it.

"Strange," he thought. "Let's try it on."

Without ceremony or delay, Andy slipped the Talisman's cord over his neck. He wished he hadn't.

Chapter Six

The world around Andy froze, and then disappeared. There was brief darkness before a million images of memories past and present assaulted him. Everything he'd ever seen and every thought he'd ever had, ran through his head at a speed he could barely comprehend. Andy started to panic when the images slowed and were replaced by a feeling of falling.

Then... Noise and smell.

The noise and smell of engines. Fear was keeping his eyes closed, but his other senses were in overdrive.

"What was that?"

Andy listened for a few seconds and heard heavy rain and thunder followed by a sudden jolt and a drop. He was thinking hard, trying to bring his mind under control.

"I'm in something moving," he thought. "But what?"

He struggled to suppress his fear.

"Come on Andy; open your eyes have a look. It can't be real, so it can't hurt you."

Andy took a couple of deep breaths then forced himself to look. He was in a plane. The noise was from the engines on either side of him roaring, it seemed, in protest at having to fight their way through the blackest, darkest, nastiest clouds he'd ever seen. The rain wasn't just lashing the windscreen around him; it seemed to be trying to beat its way in.

"Either I'm in a dream or some clown has managed to somehow slip me into that 'Big & Fast' machine."

Andy looked down at his arms and saw he still had the diary in his hand. He reached up and touched his chest and felt the Talisman hanging there. It still felt warm and alive; like it did when he picked it up in the museum.

"I can't be in that machine," he thought. "If I were I'd be seeing bogus arms holding animated controls, not my own arms. It must be a dream."

Andy had a look around the cockpit where he was sitting. He reached out and touched its side. It was cold and damp. His mind was functioning better; processing what he was seeing and touching.

"If I was in the 'Big and Fast' machine, I'd just be waving my hands in mid-air and not touching anything, because what I'm seeing would just be computer graphics. But I can feel this. It's cold and damp. I hope I'm not in bed dreaming because if I am, this cold and damp spells bad news."

Andy began to take note of his surroundings in greater detail. There was an instrument panel in front of him with about a dozen gauges and dials which he didn't understand. Ahead of that, a man was sitting with his back to Andy.

The man was obviously the pilot. Andy could see he was struggling to control the plane and that he was under a great deal of stress. He was swearing and cursing; using a lot of the words that Andy knew, but there were others that were entirely new to him. Andy strained to hear.

"Bad... weather forecast. Lost in this ... storm for ... hours, no ... idea where I am. Low on ... fuel, Should be near ... Sumatra by now. Twenty two ... hours without sleep. Need to find somewhere to put down soon or I'm really going to be right in the ..."

"That's strange," thought Andy. "I've never heard some of those words before and yet here they are in my dream. Well, I've had enough of this. I'm going to pinch myself and wake up."

Before he could do it, the plane literally stopped in mid air and then dropped like a stone. Andy, and everything else that was loose in the cockpit, shot into the air. He smashed his head into the clear plastic window of the canopy before crashing down into his seat. Yelling in pain he felt his forehead. Blood was trickling through his fingers.

"Where the bloody blues blazes did you come from?!" an angry voice yelled at him.

Andy looked up through his bloodied fingers and saw the pilot looking over his shoulder glaring at him in stunned surprise. Andy just stared back, because this pilot looked exactly like the wax figure in the museum display

"Now the mannequin is talking to me," he thought. "Surely I'm dreaming.'

"I said, where did you come from? How long have you been there and how did you manage to get into the back of my aircraft without me noticing?" yelled the pilot over the noise.

Andy said nothing. He didn't know what to say to a previously lifeless wax figure who was now piloting a previously fake aircraft through what appeared to be a very real storm. He just sat there, motionless, with his mouth agape, staring at the pilot. Water dripped on his head where he'd broken the canopy above him.

"Well? Come on boy," said the pilot. "Speak up! I haven't got time to waste on you. We're in the midst of the worst storm I've ever flown into; we're lost, we're low on fuel and we are flying far too low for my liking. So stop staring at me like a gormless fool and answer my questions!"

Andy was lost for words. He looked at this man and then looked down at the diary in his hand. His other hand was covered in sticky blood and his head was very sore where he'd cut it. He could feel the Talisman's weight on the cord around his neck.

He looked up again and was about to speak when he caught the view in front of the airplane. There were huge waves in front of them.

"Shouldn't it be sky and not the sea?" he thought to himself.

Then he realized. They were diving straight toward the ocean! He threw his arm up and pointed to the ocean in front of them.

"Look out!" he yelled. "The sea is in front of you!"

The pilot looked confused for half a second, then his eyes went wide as Andy's frightened yell hit home. He spun round and grabbed the controls. Pushing his feet hard against the rudder pedals, he pulled back on the control column with all the strength he could find in his tired body.

As the aircraft started to pull out of its dive Andy felt himself being pushed into his seat harder and harder until his head felt heavy. He'd seen this in the movies. The force of the plane pulling out of the dive was draining the blood out of his head and making his vision blur. He hoped the pilot was doing better than him.

Just as he thought he'd pass out all together the plane levelled off and the forces on his body relented. His vision started to return, which in normal circumstances would have been a good thing, but on this occasion Andy wasn't so sure.

They were speeding just a few feet above the ocean. Andy's heart almost stopped when a huge wave loomed at them. He thought they'd surely smash straight into this wall of water when the pilot yanked back on the control column and the plane skipped across the crest of the monster wave.

Andy was about to breathe a sigh of relief but didn't get the chance. No sooner had the wave disappeared than an island started whipping by underneath There was a smart crack as one of the wings took the top off a tree. Andy craned to look past the pilot's head but couldn't see.

"Brace for crash!" the pilot yelled.

Andy looked around in panic. He didn't have his seat belts on and had no time to buckle them up anyway. There was only the instrument panel in front of him to push against.

"Better than nothing," he thought as he dropped the diary to grab the panel with both hands.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, the plane, the pilot and the storm were gone. The pulling feeling returned, but it was subtly different, like he was going in the opposite direction.

Then it was all replaced by dim lights and a cold hard floor. Andy opened his eyes and found himself lying on the museum floor.

"Here he is, Sir," said a voice nearby.

"Anderson! You had better have a good excuse for this, boy! Look at the mess you've made!"

Andy recognized the voice and his heart sank. The Screaming Skull was bearing down upon him, his face purple with rage. Andy sat up and looked around. It was a mess alright. The velvet ropes and their chrome metal stands that had been across the front of the display were strewn around him.

Andy's head hurt. He put his hand up to it. He felt something warm and sticky. Blood!

"How can that be?" he thought. "How can I cut my head open in a dream?"

"Anderson! Are you ignoring me boy?"

The Skull was right in front of him now.

"Steady on there, Mr Watson," said another voice. "Can't you see the boy is hurt?"

"Thank God. It's Mr Brown," thought Andy.

Mr Brown squatted down in front of Andy.

"Tried to get a closer look at the exhibit and tripped over these ropes did we?"

Andy nodded meekly. Mr Brown waved two fingers in front of Andy's face.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two," said Andy.

"Good lad," replied Mr Brown. "No real harm done, but you'll need some attention for that gash I think."

He put an arm around Andy's back and helped him up.

"Come now, Anderson, we'll get you some help. Can you assist, Mr Watson?"

Mr Brown's intervention had left Mr Watson speechless. He had no choice but to put his arm around Andy and help Mr Brown. To do anything else would look foolish.

"Grace!" called Mr Brown. "Don't just stand there with your finger up your nose, boy. Fix those stands and ropes up. And you, Miller, don't smirk at Grace. I've seen you knuckle deep in your own nasal cavity as well. Go and help Grace, and then meet us outside."

The two teachers helped Andy out of the hall of aviation while Grace and Miller cleaned up his mess.

Outside the museum, a car was pulling away from the curb. Inside the car the old man had taken off his hat and was pulling off his gloves. The car was warm and the old man was glad to be back in it.

"How did it go Sir?" asked the driver.

"Very good I think John."

"Do you think it will work?"

"I hope so," the old man replied. "Or history will keep going round and round in circles."

Chapter Seven

Andy was fortunate the cut only needed a clean up and a bandage.

"The head bleeds a lot," said the museum's first aid lady. "It always looks a lot worse than it really is."

This was cold comfort for Andy, because he really was in a lot of pain. However when his head was finally dressed he looked like a wounded soldier. He climbed onto the bus with his injured head held high.

Andy strode down towards the back of the bus getting a mixed review of looks from his classmates. Some jeered him for being a klutz and others seemed in awe. The incident had only served to heighten Andy's reputation as a rebel. Tim was sitting next to another boy near the back of the bus.

"Hey Duncan," Andy said. "I need to talk to Tim. Can you move for me?"

The other lad looked warily at Andy then shifted. Andy took his seat.

"How did you get that wound on your head?" asked Tim.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Andy replied

"It looked as if you tripped over those rope things when you tried to get a better look at that display. What was so special about it anyway?"

Andy opened up the front of his school blazer a little, exposing the Talisman slightly. Tim was horrified.

"Where'd you get that from? You flogged that from the display didn't you! They'll kick you out of school now for sure if you get caught."

"Shhh! Shut up you idiot!" hissed Andy, looking around to see if anyone overheard. "I didn't nick it as such, and it was this thing that caused my accident."

"How's that?" asked Tim.

"I can't tell you here." replied Andy. "But I'll tell you after school. Can I come over to your place?"

"Yeah sure," said Tim, "But if anyone catches you with that thing, I don't know anything; OK?"

Andy sighed.

"Yeah, fine. You don't know anything at the best of times anyway."

"Do you want to come to my place or not?"

"Alright. Don't be such a wuss," said Andy.

The rest of the bus trip slipped by in silence. Andy went straight to the toilets when he got back to school. He hid the Talisman in a hole in the toilet ceiling that a plumber had made but had yet to repair. He didn't want to be caught with the Talisman should it be noticed missing by the museum. He knew he'd be suspect number one if they did. The rest of the day seemed to drag by unnaturally slowly like it always does when you're waiting for something to happen.

Three-thirty pm finally arrived and school was over. Andy retrieved the Talisman from its hiding place and then met Tim at the front gate. The two of them walked around the corner to meet Tim's mother Kim, who was waiting to pick them up in her ancient VW Beetle.

"Why don't you wait at the gate like everybody else?" asked Andy.

"You've seen our car," said Tim. "I don't want anyone seeing us get picked up in that!"

"Why should you care what the posh idiots at this school think?" Andy said.

Kim was sitting in her car, listening to the radio and singing away to herself. When she saw the boys she smiled and waved out. Tim was embarrassed.

"Hi guys. How was the trip to the museum?"

Then she saw Andy's bandage and her smile fell.

"What happened to you, Mr Anderson? Have you been fighting again? What have I told you?"

"No, no, Mrs Meadows. I wasn't fighting, I slipped over and hit my head; honest."

"Well OK then," she replied still looking dubious. "Do you want to stay for dinner tonight?"

Andy's face flushed a little with embarrassment. Kim knew his mother would be out tonight and that he would be home alone without much to eat.

"Yes please; if that's alright," he said gratefully.

The boys went straight upstairs to Tim's room, where he closed the door and turned on his TV.

"Just so no one can hear what we're talking about," he said. "Let's have a look at that antique thing of yours."

Andy opened his school bag and pulled out the Talisman. They both sat down on the floor and leaned forward to have a closer look at it.

At first glance it looked like a thousand other old trinkets that people hang around their necks, but on closer inspection they could see it was no ordinary thing. It looked like a combination bike lock, or the round dial on the door of a bank safe. The device had four wheels, each one smaller than the next, one placed inside the other. On each wheel were a number of symbols, all made up from dashes and dots.

"What are they?" asked Tim.

Andy screwed up his face in concentration.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "They could be letters."

"Or numbers," Tim added. "Count them."

Andy counted. There were ten.

"How many on the other three circles?" asked Tim.

"Hang on," said Andy as he began to count again. "There's ten on each one."

Tim was staring intently. He pointed at the smaller circles on the Talisman.

"They're the exact same symbols on each circle."

Andy looked. Tim was right. Each dash-dot symbol and the order in which they were laid out on each circle was the same.

"They obviously have a meaning." he said. "But how do we find out?"

"I suppose we could use the internet, but where would we start?" said Tim.

Andy shrugged.

"I don't know. Let's have a look at the rest of it."

He picked it up again and put it in the palm of his hand, then gave a yell and threw it down again.

"What's the matter?" Tim asked.

"It's like it's alive!" said Andy shaking his hand like it had been burnt.

"What do you mean, alive?"

"Well, it sort of hums and feels warm when you pick it up," Andy said.

Tim looked puzzled

"I didn't hear anything. Are you sure?

"Course I'm sure," snapped Andy.

Tim got off the floor and sat on his bed.

"Well, we don't know what it is and it scares me, so leave it there and tell me what happened to you."

Andy picked the Talisman up by its cord as if it was about to sting him and dropped it in his schoolbag. He zipped the bag up and sat on the couch.

"It's like this," he said making himself comfortable. "You remember when we walked into the Hall of Aviation and you lined up for that 'Big & Fast' machine?"

"Yeah."

"Anyway, I decided to have a look at the rest of the hall while all you other losers stood round waiting and I spotted that display around the corner. I thought it was a bit lame at first but it got more interesting when I started reading about it...."

Andy told the whole story to Tim, who was sceptical at first, but by the end of it he was totally immersed.

"... So that's when you all came round." Andy finished talking and lay back on the couch.

Tim looked thoughtful. Neither spoke for a minute.

"Well, he said, we know three things."

Andy sat up and looked at him.

"What's that?"

"The first thing is that you weren't in the 'Big & Fast' machine because I was next to it the whole time. At least until you created your scene around the corner."

"OK." said Andy. "What's the next thing?"

"I don't think you had a dream. Why would you? You were wide awake when I spoke to you and it was only a couple of minutes later you were on the ground with a cut head."

"I could have passed out and cut my head," Andy suggested.

"Yeah, but cut it on what?" Tim replied. "Look at the amount of blood you had on your head and still have on your school uniform. You'd been bleeding for a few minutes and there was none on the floor or anything else around you. If you'd fallen down and cut your head, there'd have been blood everywhere."

Tim was right. The two fell silent again. Then Andy spoke up, asking the obvious.

"So what's the third thing then?"

Tim was hesitant. He was reluctant to say.

"Come on." Andy insisted, "What is it?"

"Well." Tim finally started, "The only option is that you've picked up this strange device, put it on and it has actually transported you back in time."

"I was afraid you were going to say that. So what do we do now?"

Tim stood up, went over to his computer and turned it on.

"We do some research," he said as the computer started its usual log on routine. "Man this thing is slow."

His door opened.

"You should be grateful you have one at all, Timothy Meadows!" Tim's mother said leaning in through the door.

She threw some of Tim's old clothes over to Andy.

"Have a shower and put those on Andrew, then give me your uniform and I'll wash it. You're not going home tonight to an empty house. You may have concussion from that knock to your head."

"But my mum," he protested. "She'll get worried if I don't turn up and...."

"No she won't, because I've already told her," Tim's mother cut in. "She's quite happy for you to stay."

"Thanks Mrs Meadows."

"That's quite alright. Now hurry up. Dinner is nearly ready."

Tim's mother left the room.

"We'll have a look on the net after dinner," Tim suggested.

Andy had his shower and got dressed in the fresh clothes. Dinner was enjoyable, all the more so because Tim's sister was still at netball practice, so she wasn't there to throw her usual sarcastic insults at them. After dinner the boys helped clean up and then went upstairs. They spent a couple of hours looking through the internet without any success.

Tim's dad, Carl, came into the room and told them to get ready for bed. He looked at the screen as they were scrolling through a web-page on ancient Egypt. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"What are you two doing now?" he asked peering a little closer at the screen.

The boys had to think fast.

"Umm, just looking for something we saw in an old exhibit in the museum Dad," said Tim, looking a bit anxious.

"What sort of thing?" his father replied.

Andy knew from experience, the best type of lie had as much truth as possible in it, so he made up a story based heavily on what happened to him.

"Well Mr Meadows, I was in the museum today and they had this exhibit about an ancient culture, and they had a piece of jewellery displayed which had this engraving over it. I thought it was really interesting, so I looked a bit closer and that's when I fell over the rope and hit my head. I didn't get a chance to find out what it was, so we're having a look for it now."

Mr Meadows was still peering at the computer screen. He pointed at the Egyptian hieroglyphics they'd been looking at.

"Is this what you saw today?"

"No," said Andy.

"What did it look like then?" Mr Meadows asked.

"I'll show you," said Andy grabbing a pen and paper from Tim's desk.

He drew a rough diagram of the dashes and dots that were on the Talisman and showed them to Mr Meadows.

"Is that exactly how they looked?" asked Mr Meadows.

"Not quite," said Andy. "They were in a circle and the pattern repeated itself."

Mr Meadows scratched his chin like he always did when he was thinking.

"I don't know what they are but if they're in a repeating pattern like you say then it's either the same words being repeated over and over again, or it's a numerical pattern. I don't think it's words because the shapes are nothing like the hieroglyphics on the screen there," he said pointing at the computer.

"Hiero whats?" asked Tim.

"Hieroglyphics," said his Dad. "Look, see those Egyptian writings there?"

"Yes," said the boys.

"Well, each one of those small pictures is a symbol for a whole word unlike our written language which uses combinations of individual letters from the alphabet to define a whole word. Many of the ancient civilizations used hieroglyphics to write. But I don't think these are words or letters."

"Why not?" asked Tim.

"Because, if they are as Andy has written, then they don't seem detailed enough to form a word. It's funny you know, I've seen them before. I think they may be numbers."

"So how should we find out?" asked Andy.

"You don't tonight. You go to bed and sleep on it. Tomorrow is another day," Carl replied.

Tim's father started to leave then stopped.

"Why don't you ask your history teacher Mr Brown? You both seem to get on with him pretty well. I'm sure he could help you. Good night."

After Tim's father left Andy got the sofa-bed ready and climbed in. Tim had a shower, got into his pyjamas and climbed into his own bed.

Both boys lay quietly in their beds consumed by their own thoughts. The room was dark and they could hear the hum of traffic outside and the TV on downstairs, broken by the occasional laugh from Tim's parents. Andy lay in bed and listened to it all. His own room was dark and cold. His mother often went out and left him alone, which was bad enough, but, occasionally, she would arrive home with a group of her mates and keep him awake most of the night. Andy preferred that she went somewhere else, which she often did.

Tim sat up.

"Andy!"

Andy could hear the tension in his voice.

"What?" he asked, half asleep.

"You're gonna get busted for that thing you've got!"

"Why?"

"Because they must have noticed it missing by now and after today they'll come looking for you."

Andy was wide awake now, thinking hard.

"Look, if it was valuable like you say, then they wouldn't have hung it out for the likes of me to walk off with it, would they?"

His logic was good, but he knew Tim was probably right.

"Tell you what," he said. "I'll hide it somewhere safe so I won't get caught with it and we'll wait until the heat dies down. Until then, we can do our research and find out what those symbols are on the front. OK?"

Tim was a bit happier now and lay down again.

"Just one thing," he said.

"What's that?"

"Don't hide it round here. You'll get me and my family into trouble. Then I'll get grounded, or worse, and you won't be allowed to come round anymore."'

"Miss me will you?" Andy mocked.

"Not if you get me and my folks busted I won't!" Tim said, only half joking.

"OK," said Andy. "I'll find somewhere safe for it tomorrow."

No more was said. After a long eventful day it did not take the boys long to get to sleep.

Chapter Eight

Andy woke with a start, momentarily disoriented until he remembered he was at Tim's house. He looked at the end of his sofa bed and smiled. His school clothes were lying on the end washed, and ironed. Tim was across the other side of the room, still asleep and snoring slightly.

Andy looked at the alarm clock. It was only 6.00 a.m. There was no noise, so he guessed everyone else was still asleep. He got out of bed very quietly and got dressed. Sitting at Tim's desk, he got the Talisman out of his school bag and laid it out in front of him. As before, it began to feel alive in his hands, but became inanimate when he put it down. He wondered if it was his imagination. Whatever it was, it gave him the creeps.

After a quick search he found a pencil, a ruler and a piece of paper and set to work carefully drawing a picture of the Talisman. He took a number of measurements and copied them onto the paper. Once he had the outline done he filled in the detail. He carefully drew the dashes and dots and noted the pattern in which they were laid out. He also made notes with arrows pointing to the bit of the Talisman they were referring to.

'Feels alive when picked up.

Looks like metal but feels like something else.

Circles on front look like a bike lock or combination lock.

Leather cord and clasp look out of place... too modern

Dashes and dots in a pattern on the front.

Looks painted on.'

Once finished, Andy looked around for something to put the Talisman in. He found an old cake tin. He opened it up and found it was full of small tins of paint and brushes. Tim made model airplanes. He was pretty good at it, though Andy teased him for being a geek. Andy took the paints out of the box then fished around in his school bag and found his gym socks. He picked up the Talisman and wrapped the socks around it, then put the smelly bundle in the box.

After closing the lid, Andy put one of Tim's marker pens in his pocket and made for the door. Opening it as quietly as he could, he listened for noise. Nothing stirred, so he slipped out the door and down the stairs. Passing through the kitchen he stopped at the pantry and grabbed two slices of bread.

"My cover story," he said to himself as he left a few crumbs around the bread drawer.

Slipping quietly out the back door, he walked out through the Meadows' back garden, which was a sprawling affair casually filled with a massive variety of flowers and trees. At the far end of the yard was a huge old oak tree with an old garden shed beneath it. Andy stopped and considered it for a moment.

'No, it's still on the property,' he thought and carried on.

At the end of the yard was a tall fence with a gate in the middle of it. Andy walked through the gate and closed it behind him. On the back of the Meadows' property was a river. In this part of town it was reasonably wide with willows and bull-rushes along its banks. On each side of the river was a public walkway which lay in the narrow area between the river and the houses which backed onto it.

Downstream the Nova also flowed through Andy's part of town, but instead of live trees, dead cars, fridges and TVs littered the banks.

Andy looked both ways. No one was coming, so he walked a few hundred metres up the river looking about.

Yes. That'll do.

He was standing where the land between houses and the river was reasonably wide and covered in big old oak trees. The area was also thick with leaves and scrub. Andy only had to walk a few metres off the track for it to disappear behind him.

Near a tall fence was a particularly gnarly oak tree. It seemed to offer Andy what he was looking for so he walked over and inspected it. He found a hole near the base of the tree between two huge roots.

"This is almost too good to be true," Andy said to himself as he pulled some leaves away.

Andy pushed the tin into the hole. It was a good fit, but about a third of the tin was still visible so he pasted a thick layer of composted leaves and mud onto the tin. The effect was remarkable and the tin literally disappeared.

Andy stood back and leaned against the fence to look at his work. It looked natural and was a job well done. Now to make a mark so he would be sure he'd find the right spot. He took the pen out of his pocket, pulled the cap off and made a small line on the fence, horizontal with the ground at about the same height as his eyes.

Andy was walking back to Tim's house when he suddenly remembered the bread. He stopped and pulled the mangled slices out of his pocket. Spying a duck nearby, he threw a bit to it. The duck raced over to the bread and gobbled it down. Without any announcement several more ducks swooped in from whereabouts unknown and the fight was on.

Having done his good deed for the day, Andy turned and went back through the gate. He made sure a few breadcrumbs were on his school blazer. He'd been gone half an hour so the family would most likely be up by now.

Walking back into the kitchen, Andy found Mr Meadows already dressed for work. Mrs Meadows was still in her dressing gown. They were surprised to see Andy.

"You're up early young fellow," Carl said as he opened the morning paper.

"Yeah, woke up before dawn and couldn't get back to sleep," Andy replied.

"You weren't uncomfortable were you?" Kim asked.

"No thanks, just no Sirens or Harleys to lull me back to sleep."

Carl took a sip of coffee.

"What were you up to outside?" he asked.

"I thought I might as well go and feed some ducks," Andy lied smoothly.

Kim shot Andy a firm look.

"That explains my pantry open with crumbs all over it! And your blazer! I cleaned that last night. You may be a guest Mr Anderson but don't think I'll treat you any different to my own children."

Andy's face flushed. His lie had burnt him a little and he was embarrassed, but he was also relieved. His mother would have been much worse.

"Sorry Mrs Meadows," he said. "I won't do it again."

"You can feed the ducks if you want," she replied. "But clean up after yourself. Now go and wash your hands for breakfast. They're filthy."

Andy did as he was told and returned to have breakfast. About ten minutes later Tim's sister Lauren came into the kitchen still dressed in her pyjamas and rubbing her eyes. When she finally focused she saw Andy smirking at her, munching his toast.

"Morning, Lauren," he said.

"Muuummm, Daaad!" she screamed, "You didn't tell me stink psycho boy was here!"

"That's nice," said Andy. "You're a bit of a breath monster yourself at this time of the morning."

Lauren's eyes went wild in anger. Her mouth opened and moved but nothing came out. She just screamed and ran back to her room. Carl was laughing hard and wiping tears from his eyes.

"Breath monster," he repeated. "That's a good one. I'll remember that."

Tim came down a minute later.

"What's all the noise?" he asked.

"Just your sister's usual morning happy person routine," his father replied.

Breakfast continued without interruption. Carl finished, then kissed his wife goodbye and left for work. Kim had an ongoing argument with her daughter who insisted breakfast be brought to her in her room because of Andy's presence. By 8:15 they were in the car fighting the morning traffic to get to school with Lauren sulking in the front seat. The boys sat in the back saying nothing to each other for fear of another eruption from Lauren or annoying Kim.

As soon as they were out of the car they burst into conversation.

"Your sister doesn't half wind your mother up," said Andy.

"You haven't seen the half of it," said Tim. "That was mild today. Where's the Talisman? I got a fright when you were gone this morning. I wondered what'd happened to you."

"I thought about what you said last night so I got up early and hid it."

Tim was surprised.

"Where?" he asked.

"In the hollow of an old oak tree up from your place," Andy said. "I'll leave it there for a few days to see if it's missed before I go back to it."

The boys went off to their classes and met again at break time. They sat in a small corner of the paved area of the school surrounded by old stone buildings and argued long and hard about what to do about the Talisman. The final decision was to give it a week. If they had not been approached or questioned then they would consider it safe. They made a pact that if things turned bad they would stay strong and not rat each other out. Andy was sure he could resist interrogation, but he wasn't so sure about Tim.

Chapter Nine

The past week had been the longest in Andy and Tim's lives. From the very second they agreed to keep the Talisman hidden and lie low, time itself seemed to slow down.

On the first few mornings Tim grabbed his father's morning paper, expecting to see headlines like, 'Ancient Artifact Stolen' or 'Police Closing in on Thieves'. His nerves were shattered and he expected some big meaty police hand to grab him at any minute.

Andy was also worried and kept looking over his shoulder thinking undercover cops were after him. He often imagined himself in a darkened room with a bright light shining in his eyes being interrogated by detectives.

As the week wore on the boys' tensions eased a little and they started to talk about how they would find out what was written on the Talisman.

"What will we do now?" asked Tim.

"Don't know," said Andy sucking a pencil. "Guess we start at the library."

A loud voice interrupted their conversation.

"Anderson and Meadows. Be quiet and get on with your work!"

"Yes, Mr Brown."

Tim did as he was told and started reading his work book. It was a study of ancient cultures from North and South America. Andy stared out the window thinking about how to research the Talisman.

Tim shattered his thoughts.

"Andy!" he said urgently.

"What?"

"Have a look at page thirty-eight."

"Why?"

"Just look," said Tim a little too loud.

Mr Brown boomed again.

"Anderson and Meadows, I've warned you once already and I won't do it again. Get back to your work and be quiet!"

"Yes, Sir."

Andy looked at Tim with a puzzled face.

"Thirty-eight!" Tim mouthed back pointing at the book.

Andy turned over the pages until he got to thirty. He looked at the heading.

'The Maya.'

Andy looked back across to Tim and tried to get his attention but he was totally absorbed in what he was reading, so Andy started reading as well.

The Maya civilization extended throughout the southern Mexican states, the Yucatán Peninsula and also into the northern Central American region, including the present-day nations of Guatemala, Belize, El Salvador and western Honduras.

The Maya area was initially inhabited around the 10th century BC. The Maya calendar, which is based around the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar, starts on a date equivalent to 11 August, 3114 BC.

For reasons that are still unclear, the Maya centres of the southern lowlands went into decline during the 8th and 9th centuries and were abandoned shortly after. Theories of Maya decline blame overpopulation, foreign invasion, peasant revolt, or the collapse of trade routes. Other theories include environmental disaster, epidemic disease, and climate change.

From the 10th to the early 16th century, development in the northern centres and the cities of the northern lowlands in Yucatán continued to flourish. Some of the important sites in this era were Chichen Itza, Uxmal, Edzná, and Coba. After the decline of the ruling dynasties of Chichen and Uxmal the Mayapan ruled all of Yucatán until a revolt in 1450. The area then degenerated into competing city-states until the Yucatán was conquered by the Spanish.

The Spanish initiated a number of attempts to conquer the Maya in the Maya territories of the Yucatán Peninsula and the Guatemalan highlands. This campaign would take some 170 years before the Spanish established substantive control over all Maya lands.

Andy read a couple more pages and stopped. All this was very interesting, but what did it have to do with the symbols on the Talisman? He looked across to Tim and shrugged.

"Did you read page thirty-eight?" Tim whispered anxiously.

"Not yet." Andy replied.

"Then read it!"

Andy flicked over two more pages and read the heading.

'The Mayan Numerical System.'

The Maya used a base 20 (vigesimal) and base 5 numbering system. Also, the preclassic Maya and their neighbours independently developed the concept of 0 (zero) by 36 BC. The symbol for the number 0 was unique. From numbers 1- 19 a combination of dots and or dashes was used to represent each number. Inscriptions show them on occasion working with sums up to the hundreds of millions and dates so large it would take several lines just to represent it.

The text was followed by an illustration of the Mayan numerical system.

Andy nearly fell out of his chair in shock. Staring at him were diagrams of the exact symbols that were on the Talisman. He looked back over to Tim who was smiling triumphantly like he had just won a million in the lottery.

"It's them, it's them!" he said in a hoarse whisper.

"I know," said Tim. "Read the rest of it."

Mr Brown interrupted them.

"Anderson and Meadows: you've been warned twice already. Lunch-time, Emu Parade for the both of you."

They were both a little annoyed at losing their lunch-time but thought it was a small price to pay for discovering the secret of their missing symbols, so they settled down and read about the Mayan numerical system until lunch time.

The Emu Parade was a punishment nearly as old as the school itself. At the beginning of lunch those being punished would line up under the supervision of a teacher who would march them forward looking for rubbish on the ground. When one of the boys found some rubbish he would stop and pick it up. Whenever one stopped, all of the others had to stop as well.

Fortunately there were a fair number of boys given Emu duty and the weather was looking threatening, so the teacher whipped the boys through the clean up as quickly as possible then disappeared for his own lunch.

Andy and Tim sat down to have their lunch under the shelter of a stone arch in front of one of the old classroom blocks.

"Have you got your drawing of the Talisman here?" asked Tim.

"Yeah," said Andy through a half eaten sandwich. "It's in my bag."

"Is your drawing accurate?" said Tim.

"Should be," said Andy fishing through his bag. "Here it is."

"I've got my history book here so lets have a look and compare," said Tim.

The two put the book and Andy's drawing on the bench in front of them.

"So let's see," said Tim. "The Talisman has four dials, each one inside the other. If we compare them to the Mayan numbers in the book, then the first dial is a zero."

"And the second one is zero too," said Andy.

Tim nodded in agreement and carried on.

"The third one is, let's see... five, six, seven. It's a seven!"

Andy was already onto the final dial.

"Yeah and the last is a three. So that's zero, zero, seven, three."

He leant against the stone arch.

"So what does that mean? Is it that seven plus three equals ten, or is it seven and three- seventy three?"

They fell silent for a few minutes, both trying to make sense of what they had learned so far.

"Hey," said Tim. "I think I've figured it out! What year did you say that aviator guy crashed?"

"1936. Why?"

Tim didn't answer straight away. He had his eyes half closed, muttering to himself and counting on his fingers.

"Because 1936 was seventy-three years ago."

Andy thought about it for a minute. It seemed too easy to be true.

"So you just turn the numbers to how many years you want to travel and vroom you're there? Sounds a bit easy, doesn't it?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" said Tim. "Why does it need to be hard?"

"I thought you'd set a date or something. Like an exact date and travel to a specific day."

"Yeah I suppose you've got a point," Tim replied. "But if you're setting dates, whose dates are you going to use?"

Andy looked confused.

"What do you mean by whose dates?"

Tim held up the book they'd been reading about the Maya.

"Well it says here that the Maya had their own calendar and the Romans had one of their own called the Julian calendar."

"What's that got to do with it?"

"What I'm trying to say is, all these civilizations were calling days and years by whatever name they came up with, and they're counting their time from an event that is important to them."

"I don't get it," said Andy.

Tim was getting frustrated.

"Look, what year is it now?" he asked.

"2009," said Andy.

"2009, what?" asked Tim.

"Umm, 2009...... AD?" Andy said hesitantly.

"Yes," said Tim. "And the AD stands for Anno Domini, which is Latin for 'in the year of Our Lord.' Our Lord being Jesus Christ."

"Jesus Christ," said Andy. "How'd you know that?"

"Mr Brown taught us the other day. Don't you remember?"

Andy shook his head.

"Nope, must have been asleep for that one. What's all this Anno Domini stuff got to do with the Talisman anyway?"

"Don't you see? The Roman calendar started before Jesus was born and the Mayans had no idea who he was."

Andy was still lost.

"So, how does all that have anything to do with how the Talisman works?" he asked.

"What I think," said Tim. "Is that a date is just a number or a name that people give to time so they can keep track of it. Time goes on regardless of what anyone calls it, so if you're going to travel through time you may as well ignore calendars and use something else."

The bell rang to end lunch and they got up to go back to class. They walked in silence for a bit, before Andy spoke.

"So you think that the seventy-three is just seventy-three years back in time?"

"Yes I do," replied Tim.

"How does the Talisman know how long a year is?"

"I don't know. How does a bird know when to fly away for the winter? It just does."

Andy nodded.

"I suppose it's not important that we know how the thing works but just how we can use it."

Tim stopped and grabbed Andy by the arm, pulling him to the side of the corridor.

"What do you mean by, use it?" he asked.

Andy looked up and down the hall.

"You know what I told you about my experience in the airplane?"

"Yeah."

"I'm starting to think I was responsible for his crash."

"Why's that?"

"Because I distracted him and the plane went into a dive and he crashed. If I hadn't surprised him he probably wouldn't have lost control."

"Yes, but he would most likely have run out of gas and crashed into the ocean anyway. You probably just delayed the inevitable."

Andy thought for a minute and then shook his head.

"No, I don't agree. I think he would have survived. I was responsible for his crash. The man died because of me."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get the Talisman and go back to 1936 or wherever it was and try to put things right."

"So you, Andy Anderson, are going to use a time travel device to go back in time and save a crashed pilot are you?" said Tim with a hint of sarcasm.

"Exactly!" Andy said. "It won't be hard; just slip the Talisman over my head, whiz back in time, tell the pilot he's going to crash and hey presto, job done."

"It's not as easy as you think Andy," he said. "You can't change history. Just accept it and leave it alone."

Mr Brown, who had been walking behind them, broke into the conversation.

"On the contrary, Mr Meadows," he said. "Nothing is set in stone and if you could arrive before an event happens you could influence how or if it occurs. Now boys, tell me how it is that you can travel back in time."

Andy and Tim paused for a minute. They could feel the panic rising inside them.

"Come now boys, I'm waiting to hear about your time travel theories"

Andy answered first.

"We don't know how to travel in time Sir. We were just wondering what you would do if you could."

Mr Brown laughed and looked Andy in the eye.

"Knowing you Mr Anderson, you would be using your history knowledge for laying sizable bets or other scams."

Andy pretended to be hurt by Mr Brown's comment.

"I'd never do that sort of thing, Sir"

"Of course not," Mr Brown said. "How could I ever doubt you?"

"What we were actually thinking, Sir, was; would you save someone's life if you knew they were going to be killed?"

Mr Brown stopped walking and looked at them very seriously.

"Time travel could be a very dangerous thing. Anything you do could have consequences far beyond what you originally intended. You could change a lot more than you intended and not necessarily for the better. I would think you would have to be very careful and learn a great deal about the time you intend to go to beforehand. And another thing....."

The bell rang interrupting Mr Brown.

"My word," he said. "Is that the time? What class are you this period?"

"English," Tim said.

'Then tell Mrs Foley I kept you talking in the corridor and I'm sorry for making you late."

"OK Sir," they said.

After school Andy had decided it was time to retrieve the Talisman from its hiding place.

"Would your mum mind if I came over to your house for a while?"

"Don't think so. She's picking me up so we can ask."

They walked around the corner from the main gate and Kim Meadows was there in her old VW Beetle window down, singing loudly to the radio. Tim looked mortified.

"Man, I've told her heaps of times not to do that. It's so embarrassing."

Andy laughed.

"She's only doing it to wind you up 'cause she knows you hate it."

Tim's mother got out of the car to meet them

"Hi guys, how was school?"

"So, so," said Tim. "Can Andy come over for a while tonight?"

Kim smiled and said, "I can do better than that. He's staying the whole night. I spoke to his mum today."

Andy was happy to be staying at Tim's but still upset his mother was dumping him again for a night out.

"She's going out again, is she?" he said quietly.

Kim put her arm around Andy and gave him a small hug.

"I know how you feel, mate," she said. "My life was very similar when I was your age. You don't mind staying over, do you?"

Andy felt a little better. He couldn't remember the last time someone had hugged him.

"No, of course not," he said. "I like staying at your place."

"Good," said Mrs Meadows. "I'm having the night off tonight and your father's cooking, Tim, so I guess it'll be fish and chips. We may as well get a movie on the way home."

The boys cheered.

"Cool!"

Andy and Tim didn't have time to discuss or even think about the Talisman that Friday night. Mrs Meadows made them cut firewood, do chores and have a shower until Mr Meadows arrived home with the fish and chips. They sat on the floor in a circle around the pile of takeaways and shovelled them into their mouths. After dinner they settled in the lounge in front of the fire and watched the movie. The boys managed to squeeze in popcorn and soft drink on top of the chips.

Not long after 9.00pm two bloated and content boys went to bed. They tried to stay up and talk but weariness got the better of them and they fell into a deep sleep. It was the last decent sleep either of them was going to have for some time.

Chapter Ten

It was after eight the next morning when Andy woke. Tim's bed was empty. Andy went down to the kitchen and found Tim's family having breakfast. Tim and his parents said good morning, but Lauren ignored him.

"You slept in late, sleepyhead," said Tim.

Andy grabbed a piece of toast and started buttering it.

"Guess I must have needed it," he said.

Carl Meadows looked over the top of his paper and spoke to the boys.

"What are you two going to do today?"

"It's a nice day; I thought we might get the kayak out and have a paddle in the river," Tim said.

"Good idea, but be careful. The water's cold this time of year. Take your life jackets as well."

By nine o'clock the boys had pulled Tim's old kayak out from behind the woodshed and had dragged it through the back gate and across the walkway to the river. Tim's dog Jake was bouncing around them.

"What's the dog so excited for?' asked Andy.

"Cause he wants to come as well. He loves it."

"Going kayaking was a good idea of yours. We can go down to where I dropped off the Talisman and pick it up without any suspicion."

"Yeah, I sometimes have the odd good one."

The boys got the kayak down to the riverbank and slipped it into the water. Tim told Andy to get into the front first and then he got in himself. After some wobbling and a couple of near misses they were ready to go. Jake was running backwards and forwards barking.

"Come on then," Tim said to the dog, as he grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the boat.

Without hesitating Jake pushed past Andy and stood directly in front of him with his tail wagging furiously in Andy's face.

"Does he have to stay there?" Andy complained. "He's blocking my view. All I can see is his butt."

"He always stands there and barks at the ducks," said Tim. "Move back a little."

Andy turned and looked at Tim.

"You set me up didn't you? So I'd have to sit here staring at your dog's bum," he said.

"Maybe," said Tim smiling. "Now turn round and enjoy the view."

After several minutes paddling Andy recognized the area where he'd buried the Talisman. They pulled the kayak up onto the shore and took a quick look around to see if anyone was about. Andy had no problems finding the tree. A minute later they'd swept the leaves aside with their hands and found the cake tin.

Andy pulled open the tin and reached inside to pick up the Talisman. He jumped as he felt it spring to life in his hand.

"Can you hear that?" he asked Tim.

"What?"

"A humming, like when you're standing next to power lines."

Tim listened for a second then shook his head.

"Nope, nothing," he said.

"It's sort of vibrating in my hand as well. Here you try it," Andy said holding the Talisman out to Tim.

Tim backed away with his hands up.

"No way man. That thing is yours. I'm not touching it!"

Andy was about to speak when a branch snapped nearby. Jake, who'd been sitting scratching his ear, stopped and growled. Tim and Andy stopped and looked at each other. Andy quietly put the Talisman back in the tin and carefully closed the lid. Jake stood up and stalked towards the nearby bushes. He stopped, lifted his front paw and growled. It seemed to the boys as if the world around them had stopped. There was complete silence, except for Jake's growl.

They waited as Jake crept closer. He stopped and raised his paw again. A second later he barked and leapt. There was a screech Andy had never heard before as a rabbit sprang out of the bushes straight at the boys with Jake hard on its tail. Tim yelled at Jake to come back but he'd gone after the rabbit, his growls changing to a high pitched yap.

"Whew, just a rabbit," Tim said.

"You gonna go after him?' asked Andy.

"Nah, there's no point. We'd never catch him. Anyway, he's always out here chasing rabbits and ducks. It drives Dad mad."

Andy nodded towards the box.

"Shall we get back to this?" he said.

"Yeah, but not here. Let's go back to my place. We'll use the garden shed. Mum's gone to netball with Lauren and Dad will be in his study writing his book."

"He's writing a book?!" said Andy in surprise.

"Yeah, I know," Tim said a little embarrassed. "Who writes books these days? But Mum says it keeps him happy and out of her hair."

A few minutes later the boys were paddling with the current back to Tim's house. They wasted no time in dumping the kayak and heading into the garden shed. Andy took the Talisman out of the tin.

"What's it set to?" Tim asked.

"Don't know if it's been changed," said Andy. Let's have a look."

They both stared at the dials on the Talisman. The first two were the same and the last two were different. Andy reached into his pocket.

"Luckily I thought of bringing these!" he said and making a show of pulling out the notes he'd made about Mayan symbols.

Tim sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, well done. Now open them up so we can have a look."

A quick look at both the notes and the Talisman confirmed that it was still set at 0.0.7.3.

"What are you going to do now?" said Tim.

"I'm going to put it on and see if it works," Andy said.

He sounded confident, but he didn't look it.

"But won't you arrive back in time to crash?" said Tim.

"No, I've been thinking about that," said Andy.

"So what if it does work and you travel back to that bloke on the island? What are you going to do then? Just say 'Sorry about the plane mate; no hard feelings. I can't actually get you off this island because I'm just a kid. Oh, by the way, you're going to die of a horrible painful leg infection in five weeks.' I'm sure that'll put his mind at rest."

Tim was right and Andy knew it.

"Look," he said. "Let's just see if it works first shall we?"

"OK," Tim said. "Way you go then."

Andy put the Talisman over his head. He closed his eyes tight and braced himself. After a few seconds he heard a ghostly hollow voice.

"Andy... Andyyyyyy. Open your eyes you looserrrrr. It hasn't woorrrked!"

It was Tim talking into an old kettle he'd picked up while Andy had his eyes shut. Tim was laughing. It made Andy grumpy and embarrassed.

"Yeah, really funny," he snapped. "It should have worked."

Tim, still laughing, put the pot down.

"I believe you," he said. "But what's changed?"

"Nothing. It's still set on seventy-three just like last time."

"Yes, but what exactly were you doing when you last used it?"

Andy took the Talisman off. He put it in the old cake tin again and sat down on an old stool. Leaning back against the workbench behind him, he tried hard to think about what he was doing immediately before he used the Talisman at the museum.

Tim tried to break into his thoughts.

"Well, what were you doing?" he asked.

"Keep your knickers on!" said Andy. "Let's see; I went over and had a look at the display, read the caption thing at the front and then had another look at it."

Tim broke in again.

"What happened then?"

"Hang on, I'm getting there! I couldn't believe they had the actual items from the crash, so I stepped over the rope and had a look at the wax pilot. Then I took his diary out of his hands."

Tim made a face of mock horror.

"That was naughty," he said.

"Yeah, but what are you gonna do about it?" said Andy. "Stop interrupting me will you. Anyway, I was looking at his diary when I saw the Talisman, so I put it on. Then I was in a plane with an angry pilot who crashed and now I'm in a shed with an annoying twerp."

Tim pulled a face at Andy.

"So where's the diary?" he asked.

"Don't know," said Andy. "Hang on! I dropped it to brace for the crash. As soon as I did that I was back in the museum!"

Tim jumped up so suddenly it frightened Andy.

"It's a key!" he said.

"What's a key?" asked Andy.

'The diary's a key!" said Tim who was pacing up and down waving his arms.

Andy grabbed Tim's arms and looked him in the face.

"What do you mean by a key?"

"What year was the diary?" Tim asked.

"1936," said Andy.

"And who did it belong to?"

"You know as well as I do," said Andy. "It belonged to that Spencer- Brown fella. Get to the point will you!"

Tim sat down next to Andy.

"I just think that you need something from the time you want to travel to or belonging to the person you want to travel to, to activate the Talisman."

Andy thought about what Tim had said.

"So we'll need to go back to the museum and get that diary."

"If it's still there," said Tim.

Chapter Eleven

Getting a lift to the museum proved easier than expected. Carl said he had to go to the public library next to the museum, so he dropped them off and gave them some money for the bus home.

The boys wasted no time going to the Aviation hall of the 20th Century Exhibition. When they entered the room they were relieved to find that they were alone. Andy noticed two security cameras in the main part of the hall.

"We'll never get away with it with all these cameras around," he thought to himself as he and Tim walked down the hall.

Once they rounded the corner the Comet display lay in front of them. Andy had another look around.

"No security cameras, and out of sight of the main display," he whispered to Tim. "It's almost as if they want us to nick stuff from them."

"Yeah, I thought that too," Tim replied. "It's kind of creepy."

"Go back and look out for anyone while I get the diary."

Tim went back and peeked around the corner. A few seconds later he gave Andy the thumbs up. Without wasting any time Andy slipped past the rope barriers and up to the mannequin.

"Hello again old chap," he said in his best English accent. "May I borrow your diary again?"

He reached down to get it but it wasn't there. He looked franticly around the display but couldn't see it. He was starting to panic a little and could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He knew that sooner or later someone would walk into the hall and they'd be caught.

"Perhaps I altered time and it was destroyed," he said to himself. "Doesn't matter, all I need is a key like Tim said."

Andy cast another quick look around. Hanging over the edge of the wing of the Comet was the mannequin's leather flying helmet. Andy had a look at it. It seemed to be the original helmet from the crash. It looked old and weather-beaten.

"This'll do."

He snatched it up and headed straight back to where Tim was peering around the corner. Tim sighed in relief when Andy tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and looked at the helmet.

"What's that?" he asked.

"It's a flying helmet dumb-dumb," said Andy.

"I know that," Tim snapped. "So where's the diary?"

Andy shrugged.

"No idea," he said. "I had a good look for it but it's not there."

Tim had another look around the corner and then turned back to Andy.

"You left it behind in the back seat of the plane when it crashed. Perhaps your being there changed history a little bit."

"You could be right, but I've got this flying hat now, so I'll use it instead."

He handed it to Tim who had a good look at it.

"Give it back to me and I'll do it right now," Andy said.

Tim handed the flying helmet back.

"Are you really sure you want to do this?" he asked.

Andy pulled the helmet over his head and fished in his pocket for the Talisman. He was speaking to Tim at the same time he was untangling the cord on the Talisman.

"To be totally honest with you, I'm really scared, but I caused the guy to crash so I'm going to try and help."

He finally managed to straighten out the tangled cord and then had a look at the setting. It was correct so he wasted no time in putting his head through the loop of the cord. He looked up and smiled at Tim.

"See-ya," he said.

Tim opened his mouth to say goodbye, but Andy had already gone.

The sensations were now becoming a little familiar to Andy and he managed to deal with them better. Andy couldn't figure out how long it took. The trip seemed to last both an eternity and no time at all. Just as panic was starting to set in, the world snapped back into place.

He was lying face down on something damp. It was tickling his face and smelt familiar.

'Grass!' he thought.

He sat up to get a better look and whacked his head on something hard.

"Oww! Why is it I smack my head every time I do this?"

He looked up and was surprised to see he was lying under a truck. Moving a little more carefully, he wriggled over to the side of the truck and had a peek out.

He was not where he expected to be. Far from being on a deserted tropical island, he was on a very large airfield. The place was a hive of activity with dozens of men bustling about. The truck he was lying under was one of several petrol tankers parked on the grass. Not far away was a line up of about twenty small airplanes. They were all the same; silver coloured with two sets of wings, all with the same red, white and blue circles painted on them. Andy knew from his airplane books that these were bi-planes of Britain's Royal Air Force.

"Well I think I'm in 1930-something by the looks of it, but I'm not on the island. I wonder if this is England."

He turned and shuffled over to the rear of the truck and had another look. As he watched, he saw an airplane just touching down on the grass in front of him. It was a lot more modern that the others that Andy had just seen. He looked at this plane as it taxied towards where he was hiding.

Andy jumped in fright and whacked his head on the truck again as clapping broke out next to where he was hiding. A group of men were applauding the plane as it drew near.

"That's the future of aviation," said a grey haired man in a suit. "Eight guns, 350 miles per hour. Absolutely fantastic; the perfect maiden flight."

The man next to him was in uniform. He had a huge moustache which made him look like a walrus.

"It's a pity poor old Reg couldn't be here to see it. What did he say when he found out what it's going to be called?"

"What, you mean Spitfire?" the first man said.

"Yes."

"He said 'it's just the sort of bloody silly name they would choose!'"

The two roared with laughter and slapped each other on the back. Andy tried to hear more but the noise of the approaching plane drowned the men out.

"That's the original Spitfire!" he said to himself.

Andy was witnessing the first flight of one of the most famous airplanes of all time, but his thoughts were cut short by the coughing and wheezing coming from the engine of the old truck over him.

"Time to move."

Andy rolled over to the other side of the truck and wriggled out just as the gears graunched and the truck lurched off. After standing up and dusting himself off, Andy moved over to another truck and peeked around the cab. In front of him was another sleek looking plane, but nothing like the Spitfire. Next to the plane was a large old car. It was dark green and had no roof, just two tiny windscreens. The door was open and sticking out of the car were two legs.

Andy walked forward. He didn't know why, but something was telling him to go closer. As he did so, he could hear the man grumbling and growling. It was obvious he was searching for something and that he was not happy. Andy stopped not far behind the man and listened.

"Where the blazes is it? I can't leave without it."

The man carried on searching for a few minutes then gave up and started to extract his tall frame from under the seats of the car.

"Oh well, I'll have to get another. Perhaps old Mutt Summers over there will lend me one."

He wriggled out of the car and stood up dusting himself off, then stopped when he saw Andy in front of him. The two stared, summing each other up.

At first Andy had thought he'd found his missing aviator, but after a moment he could see that this man was a little older and bigger than the one he'd seen before. As he stared, he could see the man's expression changing from bewilderment to anger. He pointed at Andy.

"You! Boy! What the blazes are you doing wearing my flying helmet? More to the point, how did you get it?"

There was menace in his voice and Andy didn't like the sound of it. He started to back off a little. The man took a few steps towards Andy and then reached out to grab him. Andy dodged him and turned.

"Hey! Don't you try and run from Archie Spencer-Brown. Give me that helmet back!"

Andy didn't wait. He was off and running. He could hear the man behind him. He ducked around the back of a tanker truck and found himself running towards the group standing by the Spitfire.

"Ha, got you now!" came the angry voice behind him. "Oi, you chaps, stop that intruder!"

The men by the Spitfire looked up at the yelling and were obviously surprised by what looked like a small man in a flying helmet being chased by another yelling. Several of them broke from the group and started running toward Andy. Some of them even pulled pistols.

"Spy, saboteur, Nazi!" they yelled.

Andy broke right and headed back towards the tanker trucks. There were probably a dozen men after him now, all intent on doing him harm. He ducked around the side of a tanker and stopped. All there was in front of him was a large paddock and empty space. He'd get run down or shot before he got far.

"Time to go," he said as he took the flying helmet off. "Use the key to get here, loose the key to get home."

Andy could hear the men running around the back of the truck he was hiding behind. He threw the helmet down and was gone before it hit the ground.

His mind was still back at the airfield when the pain and light returned. Whilst still uncomfortable he was better prepared for the sensations racing through his mind. The scenes of his life were on playback, some repeating themselves over and over. He felt a sudden drop and found himself sitting on a cold floor.

"You alright mate?" asked Tim looking concerned. "Didn't it work?"

Andy blinked a few times to focus then looked up at Tim. He looked very pale and worried.

"I'm OK," he said. "How long was I gone?"

"Only about ten minutes. That flyinghelmet re-appeared in the place you took it from just as you returned"

"That's funny. I was at an airfield in England in 1936 for about ten minutes. I saw the Spitfire land after its first flight."

Tim looked blank. He wasn't an airplane buff and had no idea what a Spitfire was. Andy could see he was lost and filled in the gap for him.

"The Spitfire was a famous British fighter plane from World War II."

"So you weren't at the lost island then?" Tim asked.

"No, it was strange too, because I saw the crashed pilot's brother."

"Where," said Tim. "At the airfield?"

"Yes, he was getting ready to go flying himself and was searching in his car for his flying helmet. He turned round and saw me with the one I had on and said it was his."

"What happened then?"

"He and the guys watching the Spitfire chased me round the airfield. Some of them even had guns!"

"So you ran for it then?"

"Yep. Ran around the back of a truck, threw the hat down then, wham, I'm back here."

"I'm glad you're back. Let's get out of here and go home."

Andy turned and went back to the display.

"I've got to get that helmet so we can use it again," he called over his shoulder.

Tim was nervous and fidgeting.

"Just be quick about it," he said.

Andy hopped over the ropes and snatched up the helmet, but as he slipped it under his jacket the screen at the front of the display caught his attention.

"What are you doing now?" Tim called. "Do you want us to get caught? Come on!"

Andy didn't reply; he was engrossed in what he was reading. Curiosity got the better of Tim, so he trotted over to have a closer look. Andy pointed at the screen.

"Look at this," he said.

Tim read the paragraph.

In a sad footnote to this story, Mr Spencer-Brown's brother Archie, also a noted aviator and World War 1 hero died in an aircraft crash in the Swiss Alps on the 8th of March 1936 whilst flying to Singapore to search for his brother.

He turned to Andy and shrugged.

"So?" he said.

Andy frowned at Tim.

"What do you mean 'so'? I'll tell you what has happened. I caused brother number one to crash in my first trip and now brother number two is also going to die; all because of me!"

"So what are you going to do?"

Andy pulled the helmet out from under his jacket and waved it in front of Tim's face.

"This has come back," he said. "I don't know why it came back when the diary didn't but it has; so I'm going to use this helmet to go back to 1936 and tell him I know where his brother is and how long he has to live. Hopefully he'll avoid crashing in the Swiss Alps and find his brother, so I won't be responsible for either of their deaths."

Tim nodded then turned to leave.

"OK," he said. "Just put that helmet away and we'll get out of here. I can't help feeling we're being watched. It's creeping me out."

As the boys left the hall they passed an aircraft display. Andy stopped and pointed at a large model plane.

"That's a Spitfire," he said. "That's what I saw flying."

"Oh. OK," said Tim who wasn't really interested, but he stopped to look anyway.

Tim read about the Spitfire for a few minutes. Then, without an explanation, he ran back round the corner to the Comet display. Andy stayed put, wondering what Tim was up to when he returned with a smug look on his face.

"What've you been doing?" he asked.

"What's the date today?" Tim replied.

"Fifth of March. Why?"

Tim pointed at the Spitfire display.

"Because it says there that the Spitfire first flew on the 5th of March 1936; exactly seventy three years ago today! Also how many days ago did you last use the Talisman?

"Eight."

"Yes and the younger Spencer-Brown crashed his plane eight days before the flight of the Spitfire."

Andy looked unimpressed.

"So what's your point?" he said.

Tim looked at Andy like he was stupid.

"Can't you see? If what it says on that display is correct, you've got three days to save the older brother and a little under five weeks to save the other one on the island!"

"Only three days." Andy said. "I thought I'd have longer."

A group of people entered the hall. Tim tugged on Andy's jacket.

"Come on. Let's get out of here and we'll discuss it back at my place."

The boys slipped past the new arrivals and out of the hall. They left the museum and caught the bus to Tim's house. After a bite to eat they went back down to the garden shed to discuss the Talisman.

"How are you going to convince this guy you are who you say you are?" Tim asked. "Last time he saw you he called you a thief and you nearly got shot."

Andy thought about it for a minute then spoke.

"I guess I'll have to take some modern technology with me to prove I'm from the future. Problem is, I don't own any."

There was silence for a minute then Tim sighed.

"I guess you can take that old laptop my dad has in the spare room and I'll lend you my music player. We can load up a whole lot of historical stuff, including whatever we can find about Archie and Edmond Spencer-Brown. That should back you up. When do you want to go?"

Andy looked out the window. Outside the sky had turned grey and black clouds were rolling towards them. He could hear the occasional raindrop on the tin roof of the shed. He turned back to Tim and gave him a weak smile.

"The weather's bad so I may as well do it as soon as we can."

The joke fell flat. Tim smiled to be polite because he knew Andy was scared.

"I'll ask if you can stay tonight as well and we'll dump all the old stuff off the laptop and get as much information as we can onto it."

The boys went back up to the house. Tim's parents were going out for the evening and his grandmother was going to baby-sit. The boys excused themselves and went looking for the laptop. It was ancient by their standards, but state of the art for the 20th century.

Back in Tim's room Tim started deleting all the old files from the computer while Andy found a site on the internet which gave them most of the information they needed on both Archie and Edmond Spencer-Brown.

Tim's Gran called them down to dinner. Afterwards the boys and Lauren cleaned up while Gran checked her Lotto ticket on TV. Lauren went into the lounge to sit with Gran while the boys excused themselves and went back to Tim's room.

It took the boys most of the night to transfer information from Tim's computer to the ancient and cranky old laptop. They had files for current maps and charts showing the location of the island that Edmond Spencer-Brown was marooned on along with a map of the area from 1936. Tim also loaded information on significant events and inventions of the 20th Century and the biographical page on Archie and Edmond Spencer-Brown that Andy had found.

"That one should get his attention," Tim said as the last page loaded up onto the laptop. "He may appreciate being warned about being killed in two days"

Andy leaned over Tim's shoulder looking at the list of files he'd loaded and smiled.

"You've done a good job, man."

"Yeah but just be careful what you show him," Tim said looking up from the screen. "Reading this guy's biography worries me. Too much information about the future is dangerous and he sounds like a bit of a spoilt, rich prat."

Andy had also read Archie Spencer-Brown's biography and he agreed with Tim. The man had been a young hero of the Royal Flying Corps during the first World War, but something had happened in the late 1920s and he was forced to leave the Royal Air Force. After that he had followed a path of self destruction with fast cars, motorcycles, airplanes and parties. Like his brother he had made some remarkable flights, but his ego led to more failures than success. By 1936 he had used up nearly all of his money and there were rumours that he was broke when he died.

"Don't worry, I'll only show this guy what I need to convince him. Is the battery charged?"

"Yes it is, but I'll leave it on charge overnight. There's a power cord to go with it as well, but I don't know if it'll be any good."

"Why not?"

"I don't know what sort of plugs they use or what voltage they have in 1936 England."

"Good point," Andy said. "I guess I'll have to use it as little as possible. Can you print out some of those maps in case that old laptop dies?"

Tim printed out the maps and a few other pages the boys thought Andy may need. Not long after that Tim's Gran put her head around the door.

"Timmy, Andrew, have a shower and off to bed now please."

Andy smiled at Tim's pet name.

"You go first Timmy," he said.

"Shut up," Tim grumbled. "Only Gran still calls me that."

An hour or so later the boys were in bed. The room was silent except for the faint noise of traffic outside. Andy was trying to sleep, but the enormity of what he planned to do played over and over in his head. He lay in the dark with his eyes open, unable to see anything except the small red light on the computer charger blinking.

"Andy, you awake?" Tim asked.

"Man you scared me. Yeah I'm awake."

"What if you don't come back? What do I say if you vanish?"

Andy thought about it for a minute.

"Tell you what. I'll write a letter and put it in an envelope. I'll say I'm running away because I'm sick of my mother who doesn't give a stuff about me and being at a school where no one likes me. You slip it into my locker and when it's found you can tell everyone we had a fight and I threatened to go. Everyone will believe that and it'll take the heat off you."

"OK," Tim said. "Night Andy."

"Goodnight."

Andy lay in bed and composed the letter in his head. He couldn't sleep, so he sat up and looked at the alarm clock by Tim's bed. It was one-thirty a.m.

"May as well get up and write that letter now."

He went over to Tim's desk and turned on the reading light, and then he quietly fished around in the drawers for a paper and pen. The words came slowly at first and then they started to flow. Three pages later he was finished. He started to read the letter but fell asleep, face down on the desk.

Tim woke at just after eight am and found Andy still asleep, slumped over the desk. He left him there and went down for breakfast. Andy followed about half an hour later. He was rubbing his neck and had a red blotch on his forehead when it had been resting on the desk. He looked terrible.

"Bad night eh?" asked Tim.

"Yeah, awful," said Andy. "I wrote that letter we talked about. It's on your desk."

"OK," Tim said.

He looked around and then leaned closer to Andy.

"You still want to do this?"

Andy was picking at his cereal.

"Don't see that I've got a choice. If I don't, two men will die because I played with something I shouldn't have."

"When do you want to do it then?"

"I'll have a shower and get dressed. After that I suppose."

Andy tried to eat, but his stomach had other ideas so he went upstairs and got ready. Tim's Gran had washed and dried his clothes overnight which was a pleasant surprise.

"Never travel with dirty undies," he said to himself as he got dressed.

He packed the laptop and other items in his school bag and went downstairs. Tim was waiting in the kitchen trying to look calm but making a bad job of it.

"Come on, let's go," he said to Tim. "Bye Gran, thanks for washing my clothes!" he yelled to Tim's Gran.

"Bye Andrew," she called back. "Timmy, where are you going?"

"I'm just going to walk with Andy to the bus," Tim called.

"Alright, then. Come straight back after please."

"OK. Bye," Tim called.

The boys went out the drive and walked around the block to the Nova River. Heading back up the river they stopped behind Tim's back gate. Tim took a peek and seeing no one about, they slipped into the yard and ran over to the shed.

Inside the shed Andy took the flying helmet out of his school bag and put it on his head, then picked up the Talisman.

"Why do you have to put the Talisman over your head? Why doesn't it work when you just pick it up?" asked Tim.

"I don't know," snapped Andy. "I didn't get the number for '0900 Time Travel Devices Are Us,' when I found it!"

"OK grumpy," Tim said a little hurt.

Andy stopped and looked at Tim.

"Sorry man, I'm a bit scared."

Tim shrugged it off.

"Fair enough," he said. "Well, good luck."

"Cheers. Thanks for your help too," said Andy as he slipped that Talisman over his head.

"That's O... oh he's gone," Tim said.

Chapter Twelve

Andy was starting to get a handle on the sensations that surrounded him. He found he understood most of the images that flew at him, but was confused by random visions of the old man that he'd met in the museum just as reality snapped back into place.

He looked around and saw he was on a very long driveway that disappeared behind a neatly trimmed hedge. On his left he saw an immaculate sprawling lawn. On the far side of the lawn was the biggest house he had ever seen. It was three stories tall with green ivy climbing the walls. In front of the house were two old fashioned cars.

"Awesome," he said to himself. "This Spencer-Brown guy must have serious cash."

Andy's observations of the Spencer-Brown estate were so overwhelming that he didn't hear a car being driven flat out round the bend behind him. The driver saw Andy first and threw the car into a skid.

Andy spun round to see a huge green car sliding straight at him. He had nowhere to go. More by instinct than anything else he turned away and put his head in his arms. He felt his legs being pelted by stones as he waited for the impact.

It never happened. He opened his eyes to see the big car sitting stationary a few metres away. It was the same car he'd seen at the airfield. The driver leapt out of the car and stormed towards him.

"You bloody fool, I nearly killed you! How dare you trespass on my estate!" he shouted as he pulled his hat and driving goggles off.

When he saw it was Andy he stopped. It was Archie Spencer-Brown.

"You! You've got my flying helmet on too! By God you've got a nerve showing up here boy. Half of MI5 are out looking for you. They think you're a midget Nazi spy."

Andy was taken aback by Archie's attitude. He struggled to find the right words and cursed himself for not having prepared something to say.

"I'm not a spy," he said feebly.

"I can see that!" Archie replied. "You're just a snotty little thief. Now give me back my flying helmet and I'll give you a kick up the backside for taking it. Then you can go back to whatever miserable hole you crawled out from."

Archie's obnoxious attitude annoyed Andy. His temper flared.

"No, you're not getting it and if you keep talking to me like that you can get stuffed. I won't help you!"

Andy's outburst stopped Archie in his tracks. He clearly wasn't used to being spoken to like that, especially by a boy Andy's age. He looked puzzled for a second then laughed.

"Firstly boy, that's my flying helmet and if I want it, I'll get it. Furthermore, what sort of help can a squib like you give me?"

"I can help you find your brother," Andy said with as much courage as he could muster."

Archie flinched as if he'd just been slapped in the face. He looked at Andy, sizing him up.

"That is not in the least bit funny, boy. My brother was lost out of India nine days ago. In fact I'm leaving tomorrow to look for him. What could you possibly know that I don't?"

Andy patted his school bag.

"I have information in this bag that gives the exact location of your brother. It's nowhere near Singapore by the way."

"Really?" Archie snarled.

"Yes, really," said Andy. "I also have information that you will die the day after tomorrow trying to cross the Alps."

Archie looked shocked then laughed sarcastically.

"Pray tell, little man. How does one such as you find lost souls and predict the future?"

"Because I am from the future," said Andy.

Archie stopped. His face looked blank for a second then he stepped towards Andy.

"Right, joke's over. Give me the flying hat or I'll give you the hiding you so seem to need."

Andy backed away from Archie.

"Back off or I'll disappear!"

"Where to? You've nowhere to run," said Archie as he took another step.

"Back to the same place I went to the other day," said Andy. "Ever wonder how I managed to avoid you and all those other guys on an open airfield when I had nowhere to run?"

Archie's expression changed.

"Actually, yes, I did. So did all of the military types who were chasing you, which is why you're now considered to be a Nazi spy. So, how did you do it?"

Andy looked Archie in the face warily, trying to size him up.

"Promise not to hurt me and I'll tell you how I did it and I'll prove to you I'm from the future."

Archie sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Promise!" Andy said firmly.

"Yes, all right. I give my word to let you have your say and not harm you," Archie said.

Andy took his schoolbag off his shoulder and started to open it.

"OK. In this bag I have technology from the 21st century and proof of what happened to your brother and what will happen to you."

Andy pulled the laptop out of his bag and opened it up.

"This is a laptop computer. It holds all the information I need to show you."

Archie was unimpressed.

"It looks like a typewriter that's been run over by a steam-roller to me."

Andy ignored him and went on.

"I need somewhere to sit while I get it going, then I'll show you. Can we use your car?"

"I suppose you can." said Archie. "But no tricks!"

Andy climbed into the passenger's seat and Archie sat next to him. It was a surprising squeeze for such a mammoth car. He opened the laptop, pushed the button to start it and the computer began to boot-up. Archie was taken aback when information started appearing on the screen.

"What's it doing?" he asked.

"It's going through a series of self-diagnostic checks."

"Self what?"

"It's making sure it feels alright," Andy replied.

Archie thought Andy was trying to make fun of him.

"Oh, of course," he said. "We couldn't make the poor thing work when it feels bad, could we."

"Just be quiet and watch," Andy snapped.

A few seconds later the computer finished booting-up and a picture of the Comet plane belonging to Archie's brother appeared on the screen. Archie was stunned.

"Where did that come from?" he asked.

"From the computer's memory. There's thousands more images in there. See that little arrow there?" Andy said pointing at the screen.

"Yes," said Archie, who was now paying close attention.

"Well, if I put my finger on this little pad between the keys here," said Andy. "I can move the little arrow like this."

Andy moved the cursor arrow to an icon on the left of the screen. Archie was staring at the screen in total disbelief.

"See that little yellow box the arrow is touching?" said Andy.

"Yes."

"That is like a filing cabinet filled with all the information we could find on you and your brother. That box above it has maps from the 21st century and from 1936 and the one above that has some important dates from the 20th century."

He clicked on the Spencer-Browns icon. A second later the screen changed and displayed the biographies of Archie and his brother Edmund that the boys had downloaded from the museum's website.

"Have a look at this and read it carefully," said Andy. "As we go through it I'll open up other links about you and your brother."

Andy watched Archie carefully. It soon became obvious that Archie was totally astounded by what he was reading. As they went through the biography Andy opened related pages about Archie's crash, the recovery of his body and the inquest into his death. Archie went pale reading it.

Not giving Archie any time to recover, Andy showed him the page on Edmond's death and the discovery of the wreckage in the 1990s. By this time Archie was far from the brash and arrogant man of a short while ago. He was thinking very hard indeed.

"What's your name?" he asked Andy.

"Andrew Anderson, but my friends call me Andy."

"Andy you are what, about 13 years old?"

"Yes."

"Which means you will not be born for about another 60 odd years from now. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that's true."

Archie stopped and thought some more staring at the computer.

"Well Andy Anderson. What shall we do?"

Chapter Thirteen

Tim was getting bored waiting for Andy to return, so he thought he would go out the back to the river and sit there for a while.

He'd only been there a few minutes when a voice from behind startled him.

"You're a hard person to find young man."

Tim jumped in fright. He turned and saw Mr Brown.

"Oh, hello Sir. I didn't see you there. What are you doing here?"

"I've got business in the area."

Tim nerves were getting the better of him. He was worried about Andy and didn't need to deal with this as well.

"What sort of business?" he asked.

"Keeping an eye on you and Anderson."

The words hit Tim like a punch in the stomach. He could feel the blood draining from his face.

"What do you need to keep an eye on us for?" he asked.

"Because you've started something very important."

"I don't follow you Sir."

"Oh I think you do. So tell me. Has Anderson gone back to 1936 yet?"

Tim tried to play dumb.

"Sorry?" he said.

"Come now lad. Has he used the Talisman or not?"

Tim knew the game was up.

"Yes he has."

"Good. Now, you must come with me. There is someone who has been waiting a long time to see you."

"But I can't. My parents will wonder where I've gone."

"Don't worry about that, I've already spoken to them. I told them you're doing a special extra-curricular history project. Come along, you can speak to them on the way to the car."

"What if I don't want to go?"

"Then young Mr Anderson may stay in 1936."

Tim relented. He spoke briefly to his parents who were most impressed he was doing a school project in his own time. Waiting outside was a large black Jaguar car. They got in and drove off.

"This is a flash car for a teacher," Tim said.

"Yes it is, but sadly it's not mine; it's my uncle's."

"Who's your uncle?"

Mr Brown smiled.

"You'll have to wait for that answer. All I can say is that he is an old man who hasn't seen you for a long time, although he knows Anderson very well."

"Is it the same old guy Andy bumped into in the museum?"

"It is."

"I get the feeling we've been set up."

"Set up is such a crude term in relation to what has been done, but I admit the two of you have been influenced and pointed in the right direction."

Tim didn't like the sound of this. It looked like he and Andy were part of something far bigger than they had ever considered.

"Are we in trouble?" he asked.

"Trouble? No, not what you may think is trouble, but you have become involved in something very serious and we must make sure that the both of you are guided and protected."

"Protected from what?"

"All in good time."

Chapter Fourteen

Andy and Archie had spent the best part of an hour talking.

"Well Andy, it appears that you have convinced me not to make my flight tomorrow. If my brother still has over four weeks to live, then things aren't quite as desperate."

"What will you do?" asked Andy.

"There's another Comet based near London which is owned by a friend of a friend who leases it out. I'll give him a call and see if it's free. If so, I'll spend a couple of days preparing, then I'll be off at the first sign of suitable weather."

Suddenly, Andy had an idea.

"The Comet has two seats. I'd like to go too," said Andy.

"No, not on your life," said Archie. "Long distance flying is a dangerous business. I'll get the information from you and you can go home."

Andy glared at Archie.

"No way! I'm going or you don't get the maps. I'm responsible for your brother's accident. I want to help!"

Archie smiled.

"I can see I'm not going to win. Let's call a truce for the time being and discuss who's doing what over tea and cake at my house. You can take that flying helmet off, if you want to."

"I can't," said Andy. "If I do I'll disappear back to where I came from. It has to stay on me."

"Really? Alright then, tuck it under your belt and we'll think of something else later."

"There's just one other thing," Andy said.

"What's that?"

"I'm here to help rescue your brother and that's it. I can't tell you anything else about the future. OK?"

Archie looked like he was going to disagree for a second, then he smiled and patted Andy on the back.

"Alright then, but I don't see what harm a few questions could do."

Archie started the Bentley up and they moved off.

"Are we going to your big house over there?" Andy asked pointing at the stately home across the gardens.

Archie laughed.

"Goodness no," he said. "That's my father's house. I've been banished to the gamekeeper's cottage around the back."

"Why?"

"Because, my brother crashed attempting to break the record for flying from England to Australia and New Zealand. I challenged him to do it at a dinner party when I'd had rather too much to drink. Father blames me for Ed's demise and so I'm banished from the family home."

It took them a full five minutes to drive around the grounds of the house. They wove around stands of massive oak trees then passed the rear of the manor house. Carrying on for another hundred yards or so they stopped in front of a two-story brick cottage.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he said.

Andy got out of the car. He yawned and stretched. The lack of sleep and excitement were catching up on him. A man came out of the cottage. He was tall, dark haired and immaculately groomed.

"Is this your butler?" Andy whispered to Archie.

"No, Stephens is my valet," Archie replied.

"What's the difference?"

"A butler is employed by and works for the house, whereas a valet works for an individual person; in this case, me."

Stephens walked towards Archie and Andy.

"Good afternoon Sir," he said. "I'm afraid lunch is cold. Agnes brought it down from the manor an hour ago."

"Yes Stephens. I was on time but I'm afraid I got waylaid by our friend here."

Stephens looked at Andy and arched an eyebrow in disapproval.

"And will the young master be staying for lunch, Sir?"

"He will in fact be staying longer. Can you please make up the spare bedroom for him and get Agnes to send some more food down."

"Very good, Sir," Stephens said.

Archie took Andy inside and they went into the living room. The cottage was very cozy and welcoming. Andy liked it at once. While he was looking round he noticed the conspicuous absence of the household items that he was used to seeing. No TV, video, or DVD, no computers, no stereo system. In fact the only thing electrical at all that Andy recognised was an ancient radio in the corner. Archie noticed him looking at it.

"Do you like my new wireless?" he said. "It's the latest one out you know. Cost me a packet."

Andy smiled politely and sat down on the couch in the living room. Archie was racing round the room like a man possessed looking for charts and maps, asking questions and yelling instructions to Stephens. Despite the noise, Andy felt himself slipping into a deep sleep.

It was several hours later that he was woken by Stephens who was gently shaking him.

"Time for dinner, Sir," he said.

"Don't you mean lunch?"

"No, Sir, dinner it is. You've been asleep several hours."

Andy looked at the windows. It was dark outside.

"Where's Archie?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"He has gone down to the manor to speak to his father, Lord Spencer-Brown, about today's developments."

"What developments?"

"Why your arrival and the information you passed on to him."

Andy laughed.

"I don't think his father will believe a time traveller has arrived with just the information they need to find Edmond, will he?"

"No. I could hardly believe it myself, but for the electric compute machine and the tiny music gramophone you bought with you."

"What?" said Andy.

"Well Sir, Mr Spencer-Brown tried to wake you so you could go and present the information to his father, but he couldn't rouse you."

"And?"

"Mr Spencer-Brown was determined to see his father this afternoon to get things underway. He's not a patient man you see. So he took your compute machine, your music device and the other things up to the manor to show his father."

Andy threw his blanket off and shoved his feet into his shoes.

"That's an old computer with a dodgy battery. He could wreck it!"

He was off out the door and running towards the manor house with a worried Stephens in tow.

They were at the back of the manor house in less than a minute. Stephens led Andy through a kitchen full of startled cooks and serving staff and then into a huge hall. They stopped at a massive wooden door. They could hear a heated argument coming from the other side.

Stephens gulped.

"That booming voice is Lord Spencer-Brown," he said as he knocked.

"Come!" the angry voice bellowed from behind the door.

Stephens opened the door and walked in motioning Andy to follow. They were in an enormous dining room. Archie was sitting on one side of a long dining table and had the laptop open in front of him. He was staring at it, looking confused and upset. Opposite Archie was an older thick-set man who looked very much like him, but with long grey hair and a huge moustache that made him look like a walrus. His face was bright red with anger. He turned and glared at Andy and Stephens as they entered.

"Is this the future boy, come with wondrous technology?" the old man yelled across the room. "He looks more like the son of a conman come to lure my fool son out of what little money he hasn't already squandered!"

Andy wanted to turn and run but he could see the look of distress on Archie's face. Slowly he walked over to Archie and looked at the laptop. It was dead. Andy frantically tapped the keyboard and pressed the start button. Nothing happened.

"I'm sorry Andy," Archie said. "I thought I could get it going, and I did for a while but it made a funny noise then stopped."

"So?" the old man roared making Andy jump. "What do you have to say now, future boy?"

Andy stood rooted to the spot, petrified of the imposing man in front of him.

"I... I've got some documents as well," he stammered meekly.

"I'm sure you have. They'll be as false as all of the rest of this rubbish I see in front of me, won't they?" Archie's father spat, as he glared at Andy.

Andy withered and looked down at the floor to avoid his gaze.

Lord Spencer-Brown stood, and thrust an arm out towards the door.

"I thought so! Get out of my house now, all of you! Especially you, Archie Spencer-Brown, before I disown you altogether. Three sons and you're the only one left alive. What a damned waste!"

Archie gathered up the laptop and they all retreated, leaving his father slumped back in his seat. They left via the kitchens to the stares of shocked and bewildered staff. Nothing was said on the way back to the cottage.

When they got back Stephens went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Andy could see Archie was shaken. He turned to Andy who was surprised to see a tear in his eye.

"I'm sorry Andy," he said. "I couldn't wait for you any longer. I'd been using the computer all afternoon and was getting quite handy with it, so I thought I'd take it up to father. It stopped dead just as I was about to show him."

"You've been using it all afternoon?" Andy asked.

"Yes. I've read almost everything on there." Archie replied.

"Then you ran the battery flat you idiot!" yelled Andy.

There was an angry silence for a few minutes. Stephens brought them a cup of tea, then Archie spoke.

"I've ruined everything. I'll never find my brother."

"No," said Andy quietly. "It's alright. The laptop was dodgy anyway. You just killed it quicker. I only brought it along to prove I was from the future. I've got printed copies of all the really important stuff in my bag."

Archie looked up and smiled.

"So we still have Ed's location then?"

"Yes."

"Excellent!" Archie said, thumping the table. "Stephens, old chap, we're not lost yet. Get me my address book and I'll ring to see if that other Comet is available to lease. Andy, my boy, get those maps of yours out and we'll compare them to my charts."

Shortly after Andy and Stephens were poring over the maps while Archie spoke loudly down a huge black telephone to the man who owned the other Comet plane.

"Doesn't it annoy you that he talks to you like a dogsbody?" asked Andy.

Stephens smiled.

"No Sir, it's the lot of a man in service. Besides, I owe him my life."

"How's that?" Andy asked.

"I met him in 1916 during the Great War in the Battle of the Somme. We'd rather foolishly lied about our ages to get into the action. Both of us got wounded in the first day of the battle and were in hospital together. Master Spencer-Brown got his father to pull some strings and arranged for a transfer to the Flying Corps. He got me transferred with him."

"How did that save your life though?" asked Andy.

Stephens smile fell.

"There were 146,000 men killed during that battle and another half million wounded or taken prisoner. No one who I joined the army with survived. If I hadn't gone to the Flying Corps with the master, then I'd have gone back to the trenches and been killed as sure as I'm talking to you now."

They were interrupted by Archie yelling into the telephone at the owner of the airplane.

"One thousand pounds? You must be joking Tasker. I just want to lease it, not buy it. What's that? Take it or leave it? I'll just have to take it then. I'll see you the day after tomorrow and I want to leave by Monday, so it needs to be in top shape!"

Archie slammed the phone down in disgust.

"One thousand pounds? Where am I going to get that sort of money from? I don't have it and father certainly won't help me out. I'll have to sell the Bentley and the Miles."

"What's a Miles?" Andy asked.

"It's my airplane. The one you saw the other day. It won't be hard to sell though. I know a few chaps who are keen on it."

The rest of the evening was spent planning the trip. The incredible organization and detail that Archie went into amazed Andy. He tried to keep track of what was going on but soon became lost. Eventually he fell asleep on the couch.

Andy woke the next morning still on the couch with the sun streaming through the window. He could smell food and rubbing his eyes he wandered into the kitchen.

"Morning young master Andy," Stephens said, as he pushed a bowl in front of him.

"What's this stuff?" Andy asked looking at the lumpy grey sludge in the bowl.

"You've never seen porridge before?" Stephens asked a little shocked.

"No."

"Well, get it down you then. It's better than it looks and it's good for growing boys."

Reluctantly Andy tried the porridge. Stephens was right. It was good. Andy downed the bowl and then tried marmalade on toast but spat it out. It was too bitter. He swilled down a cup of tea to get rid of the taste.

"Where's Archie?" he asked.

"He's been talking on the telephone most of the morning trying to sell his airplane and the Bentley."

Andy was halfway through the cup of tea when Archie came into the kitchen.

"I did it. The Miles is sold. Fifteen hundred pounds to old Bertie Johnston. He'll meet me at the Bank of England in London tomorrow. He even gave me a tip on someone who's after a Bentley. Want to see London tomorrow Andy?"

"Sure, why not."

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning was a very fine but brisk spring day.

"Where's Archie?" he asked Stephens, as he staggered into the kitchen half asleep.

"Outside, getting ready for the trip to London."

Andy found Archie checking over the Bentley.

"Hello there young fellow," said Archie. "All set for London?"

"Yes I s'pose so. When are we going?"

"Soon as you're ready. We've arranged some clothes so you'll fit in a little better. Not so conspicuous. Put them on and we'll be gone. You'll have to keep my flying helmet under them. Also, Stephens and I have been talking. You'll need a passport, so we're going to visit Stephens's uncle Charlie who, how shall I say, walks on both sides of the law, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, he's a crook."

"Bluntly put, but quite true. He's going to take your photo and arrange the passport for you."

"A dodgy one you mean."

"Let's just say it has questionable legality shall we? Go and get ready and we'll be off."

Andy wasted no time in getting changed and less than thirty minutes later they were roaring down a narrow lane at a scary pace.

"London's normally about two hours away," shouted Archie over the noise of the engine. "But in this old girl we'll be there in about an hour and a half."

Archie wasn't kidding. The countryside flew by in a blur. The open cockpit and the engine noise of the Bentley made it feel like they were in a fighter plane. Andy was surprised at just how fast the Bentley was.

"This thing can really go!" he yelled to Archie.

"She's a pretty lively old girl alright," Archie replied. "What are the new Bentleys like in your time?"

"Faster, quieter and more comfortable. That's all I'm going to tell you."

Archie was about to push the point and grill Andy for more information about the future but he was forced to concentrate on beating a train across a level crossing. Andy's heart was in his mouth as they bounded over the crossing with only seconds to spare.

They kept pace with the massive steam train for mile after mile. A few of the passengers waved. Andy waved back. Archie pressed on but the train kept pace. It seemed an impromptu race was in progress. Andy looked in awe of the magnificent machine snorting and bellowing next to him. Eventually the road parted from the tracks and the train disappeared from view.

"London!" Archie yelled over the roar of the Bentley.

Andy half expected to see a motorway and high rise buildings, but there were none, nor were there any huge concrete warehouses, shopping malls or roadside burger barns. Just rows and rows of dirty brick buildings.

Their first stop was the Bank of England. Archie went in and left Andy with the Bentley. He appeared smiling about twenty minutes later.

"He's a good man that Bertie. Fifteen hundred cash for the Miles. He has also arranged for us to meet the chap who is keen on the Bentley. He's going to meet us at Rules Restaurant for lunch."

Archie took Andy to a tailor to be measured up for some new clothes and a flying suit.

"I'll have somebody here to pick them up by Wednesday," Archie said.

"Wednesday? You must be joking!" said the tailor. Andy didn't know if the man was going to laugh or cry at Archie's demand.

Archie waved a five pound note at the man.

"There's an extra five in it for you."

"Five pounds eh?" said the tailor. "I suppose it can be done."

They left the tailor's and drove to the East End. If parts of London looked grim to Andy the East End was a shock. Everything looked old and run down. People in the street looked at them with contempt as they drove past.

"The Bentley isn't the best thing to be seen in 'round here," said Archie. "It screams money and these people have seen very hard times for the past several years."
They found the house they were looking for and Archie knocked on the door. It opened slightly and a hard-looking woman peered through the gap.

"Who are you?" she asked rudely.

"Archie Spencer-Brown, madam. A very good friend of mine, Richard Stephens, gave me this address and told me to ask for his Uncle Charlie."

"Dickie sent you eh? Hang on."

She slammed the door in their face and they heard her shrill yell from the other side.

"Charlie, there's some toff at the door says 'e knows young Dickie!"

The door opened and the hugest man Andy had ever seen filled the hole where it had been. He scowled down at them with menace in his face.

"You Archie?"

Archie nodded. Andy could see he was a little afraid.

"Dickie sent a message. Said you've got a travel problem with this boy."

Archie nodded again.

"Come in then. We'll be quick because if the Old Bill sees that toff car parked outside my digs they'll kick my door in an' accuse me of knicking it."

Andy and Archie went in. The house was cold and damp with bare floorboards and paper peeling from the walls. Andy was unfazed by the poverty, but he could see Archie was a little shocked.

They went through to a little room at the back. Charlie put Andy against a white painted wall and took his photograph with a huge wooden camera. He thrust a pencil and paper into Andy's hands.

"Write your name, address and date of birth on 'ere," he said.

Andy did as he was told. As he was doing so Archie lent over him and whispered.

"We'll write my address down and be sure to put 1923 as the year of birth."

When they were done they handed the paper back to Charlie.

"That'll be ten quid," he said. "When do you want it?"

"Day after tomorrow," Archie said.

Charlie raised his eyebrows a little.

"You must be in trouble! I can have it to you by then but it'll cost another ten."

"You drive a hard bargain," Archie said.

"I don't drive any bargain. Twenty quid it is, or you get nothing."

Archie sighed and pulled out some notes.

"Twenty pounds it is then. Here you go."

Charlie took a long look at the wad of cash in Archie's hand.

"If you want to get out of the East End in one piece don't go flashing that cash about. Also, get that toff's car out of here and don't come back with it. I'll meet you at The Blind Beggar pub on Whitechapel Road, day after tomorrow at 4.00 o'clock."

A few minutes later they were on their way to Rules Restaurant. Andy saw many of the famous London landmarks he'd read about so often. St Pauls Cathedral, the Tower of London and Trafalgar Square.

As they entered the restaurant a man seated at a nearby table raised his hand and waved to get Archie's attention. Archie and Andy walked over and Archie shook the man's hand.

"Mr Gallop, I presume?" said Archie.

"Yes, very nice to meet the infamous Archie Spencer-Brown," Mr Gallop replied with a smile.

He looked at Andy and extended his hand.

"And who do we have here?" he said shaking Andy's hand.

"Andy, ahh Andrew Anderson, Mr Gallop," Andy replied, trying to be as polite as possible.

"Well, very nice to meet you Andrew," he said. "Please be seated gentlemen. We'll have a bite to eat and you can tell me about the Bentley. I hear it was originally owned by Sir Tim Birkin. I was a keen admirer of Sir Tim until he met his unfortunate end. One of Britain's greatest racing drivers in my opinion."

"Yes he was," said Archie. "And it was his. I'm very reluctant to sell it."

"But it's for a noble cause I hear," Mr Gallop replied. "Mounting a rescue for your brother I understand. Please, sit down and we'll work something out for our mutual benefit I'm sure."

They sat down and ate a very pleasant meal while Archie and Mr Gallop hammered out a deal. After some haggling they settled on 850 pounds and shook hands. Mr Gallop pulled a large envelope from under his jacket.

"I thought that you would be leaving to find your brother before the cheque would clear, so I made the presumption that you would like cash."

He opened the envelope and discretely counted off seventeen fifty-pound notes.

"How are you going to get back to your father's estate?" Mr Gallop asked.

"I thought we'd take the train," said Archie. "I'll have to call a cab to get us from here to the station."

Mr Gallop laughed.

"Nonsense man!" he said. "I'll give you a lift in my new Bentley. It's a very fine car you know."

Ten minutes later they were outside the station waving goodbye to Mr Gallop as he roared off in the Bentley. Archie looked a little sad as he watched the car disappear round the corner.

They picked up their bags and walked to the ticket kiosk. After paying for first class fares a porter put their bags on a trolley then led them through a sea of people to their train. Andy looked at the huge black machine in awe as it sat there hissing steam.

"Here we are then gents," the porter said. "Platform nine."

Picking up the bags he stepped up into a coach and led them down a narrow passageway before stopping at a door about halfway down.

"Your seats, Sirs," he said.

Archie pulled out a coin and passed it to the porter.

"Thank you very much Sir," he said.

They walked through the door to their first-class compartment. It had seats on both sides facing each other which were just far enough apart to avoid passengers' legs being entangled. Andy noticed a strong smell of leather and polished wood as he sat down.

They settled in. Archie had bought Andy a copy of War of the Worlds to read. Archie opened a copy of The Times, which had a headline on the front page "Germany Invades the Rhineland"

"Looks like we'll soon be at war with the Huns again," he said. "Wonder if the RAF will take me again?"

Andy looked up from his book.

"Who's The Huns?"

"The Germans," said Archie. "It's what we called them in the last war."

He stopped talking and looked at Andy.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" asked Andy.

"Will there be another war Andy?"

Andy stared back at Archie. He knew it was an understandable question but he didn't know what to say.

"I can't tell you," he said.

Archie sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Why in heavens name not? Especially if it's about another Great War."

"Just take it from me that things turn out OK!" Andy snapped.

"But...," replied Archie, not ready to give up.

They were interrupted by the conductor.

"Tickets please gentlemen. Oh, I didn't recognize you there Mr Spencer-Brown. Magistrate got your driver's license again, or was it another crash?"

Archie laughed.

"No George. I'm merely between automobiles at the moment."

"Very good Sir. Nice to have you aboard."

He clipped their tickets and left. The train pulled out and Andy watched London slip by his window for a while. Archie was reading the evening paper. He was frowning deeply and looking very unhappy. Andy shuffled in his seat. The flying hat he'd been carrying under his shirt for the past few days was driving him mad. Archie looked up from his paper.

"What's the matter with you?" he said. "Got ants in your pants?"

"No. It's this flying hat. It's driving me nuts."

Archie put his paper down.

"Tell me why you have it again?" he asked.

"It's like a key or a link to hold me here. I have to have something from the year to which the Talisman is set to get there and once I'm there I have to keep it on me to stay. If I loose contact with it, I'll disappear."

"Interesting," Archie said. "And this item can be anything so long as it was created, in this case, in 1936."

"I guess so."

"What you need is something made this year which is less cumbersome than my flying hat. I'd like it back by the way."

"You're welcome to it."

"Yes, however we'll have to wash it after it's been living in your underpants won't we," Archie said as he returned to his paper.

Andy looked back out the window and saw they were pulling into a station much smaller than the one they'd left in London. It was dark outside and people were busy getting on and off the train. He looked up as a well-dressed older man in a black suit and bowler hat then three obviously foreign men entered the compartment. The men looked Arabic to Andy; dark skinned with black hair wearing traditional clothes.

"Good evening," Archie and the man in the suit said to each other.

Archie didn't acknowledge the existence of the other men. He just glared at them with mild contempt and then pulled his paper back up and continued reading. With the paper acting as a barrier of sorts he turned to Andy.

"This is just not good enough. I'm not sharing this compartment with some bloody foreign fuzzy-wuzzys. It's bad enough I spent five years fighting the blighters, now they're over here in my country."

Andy was shocked by Archie's outburst.

"You can't call them that! They have a race and they have names," he said. "You can't go round being racist."

"Why not?"

"Because they're people just like you and me, except they were born somewhere else and look different that's all."

Archie laughed at Andy.

"What a load of liberal poppycock. Look at them. How can they be the same? Have you ever been to the Middle East and seen how they live?"

Andy was getting angry now.

"Those fuzzy wuzzys, as you call them, were building the pyramids and great cities thousands of years before you people!"

Archie was taken aback by Andy's anger. He looked over the top of his paper and saw the three foreign men taking a keen interest in the argument. It was obvious they understood what was going on. He felt quite uncomfortable and was silent for a minute.

"Look I'm sorry if I upset you, but I lost quite a few friends in the Middle East. None of them died very nicely, if you know what I mean."

"Did you ever stop to think that it was their country and they didn't want you there; just like you guys with the Germans in your last war?"

"That was entirely different!" Archie snapped back at Andy.

"No it's not!" Andy yelled, "And if you don't change your attitude you selfish, stuck up, upper-class snob I'll take my Talisman and my other gear and leave!"

There was silence in the cabin. The man in the suit was glaring at Archie who in turn was looking apologetic. The three foreign men were ignoring Archie and staring at Andy in stunned silence.

"Talisman?" one of them said in a thick accent.

One of the others gave him a quick elbow in the ribs. They fell silent for a minute then started talking in their own language, all the time giving Andy quick glances. The conversation grew louder until another full blown argument erupted. It was Archie and Andy's turn to sit in discomfort.

The man in the hat stood and threw his paper down in disgust.

"I've had more than enough of this," he said as he opened the door and disappeared through it.

A minute later the man returned with three burley conductors. Andy saw what was going on.

"Now we're for it," he thought, "They'll boot us off for sure."

"That's them!" the man said, pointing at the foreign men.

The conductors stepped into the compartment.

"Right you three," one of them said to the foreign men. "We'll not have any more trouble from the likes of you. You can go down to third class."

Two of the men began to protest, but the one in the middle spoke sharply to them and walked out followed by the other two. The man in the hat sat down and picked up his newspaper again deliberately ignoring Archie and Andy.

"So, we have an argument, but they get the boot, no questions asked," said Andy in disgust.

"Shh Andy. It's just the way things are in this day and age."

"It's not right, that's what it is."

"Yes, perhaps you're right, but this is the wrong time and place for such arguments," Archie replied.

The trip continued in silence. After several miles the rhythm and motion of the carriage lulled Andy off to sleep. It didn't seem like long before Archie was gently shaking him.

"Andy, we've arrived. Wake up."

Andy rubbed his eyes, then got up and followed Archie out of the coach. Stephens was waiting for them on the platform. They got their bags and began to walk towards Archie's mother's car which Stephens had borrowed.

"I see you've got the Riley. What did you tell father?" Archie asked Stephens.

"I told him the Bentley had a spot of mechanical problems Sir."

"So he doesn't know of my plans to try and rescue Ed then?"

"Not as far as I know, Sir."

Archie patted Stephens on the back.

"Good man. How can I ever thank you?"

"A raise would be nice Sir."

Archie began to laugh but stopped and stared ahead of them. The three foreigners had just stepped off the third-class carriage. They saw Archie and Andy and immediately started walking towards them. It was obvious that they meant business.

"Made some new friends, Sir?" Stephens said to Archie. "Best we make a hasty exit by the looks of it. I'll trot ahead and get the car started."

Stephens left Archie and Andy behind as they strode towards the station exit.

"I'm worried Archie. They look pretty angry."

"They won't do anything here Andy, not with all these people, but I hope Stephens has that car running."

The men behind them were gaining ground and the crowd was thinning as they walked out of the station. Stephens swung into view and pulled up in front of the exit. He reached across the interior of the car and threw the passengers door open. Seeing their prey was about to get away, the men behind them yelled and gave chase.

"Run!" said Archie as he grabbed Andy by the arm.

Chapter Sixteen

Andy didn't need persuading. He ran for all he was worth. A second later he and Archie dove into the car. Stephens stomped on the accelerator and the car roared off before they had even closed the doors.

A mile or so down the road Stephens slowed down and they began to relax a little.

"Who were they?" he asked.

"Don't know," said Archie. "Just some fuzzy... sorry some foreign chaps who I managed to upset with my usual charm."

Stephens just nodded and drove on.

"You don't look too concerned," Andy said to Stephens.

Stephens smiled.

"Oh no Sir, I've had to perform similar duties for the master on many occasions. His 'usual charm' has had the same effect on a number of people."

They drove on in the darkness for several more miles before Stephens turned into the grounds of the Spencer-Brown estate.

"Home sweet home," Archie said as they pulled up in front of the cottage.

It was warm inside. Stephens ate dinner with them as they discussed the day's events. Archie made no further mention of the men at the train station. It seemed a minor event to him. Andy on the other hand, was still shaken by it.

"How did you get on with the arrangements back here old chap?" Archie said as he poured a cup of tea.

"Very good, actually Sir. I have all the necessary maps and charts laid out in order of your proposed route. I also have your flying kit cleaned and ready to go. I've sent telegrams to your stopover points for aircraft servicing and your accommodation, but there is one problem."

"What's that?"

"The fuel company wants cash up front and they want you to settle your brother's account. It's still outstanding following his disappearance."

"How much do they want?"

"Two hundred for your brother and a similar amount for you. They think your trip is suicidal so they want the money up front."

"Bother. I was hoping to pay later, but we have to go to Croydon to pay Tasker and make sure the Comet is up to scratch tomorrow. We may as well carry on into London to pay the money and then pick up Andy's flying kit. Anyway, I'm tired and Andy looks a total wreck, so we should all retire for the night."

Andy was glad to get to bed after a long eventful day. No sooner had his head hit the pillow than he was asleep.

The next morning was raining and cold. Andy slept in until after ten-thirty. He found Archie downstairs surrounded by a mess of maps, charts and other paper.

"Hello sleepyhead," he said.

"What's all this?" Andy asked.

"Just getting into the nitty-gritty of organising the trip."

Archie picked something shiny off the table and tossed it to Andy.

"Here, take this," he said.

Andy caught the flying object and inspected it. It was a brand new coin with a hole neatly drilled through it. Looped through the hole was a meaty looking leather cord.

"That can replace the flying helmet."

"Cheers," said Andy, as he slipped it over his head. "You must have got up early to have got this organised though."

"Well I had a few jobs to do in the village this morning, so I thought I'd sort you out as well."

It may have been miserable outside, but was a perfect day to finalise details of the flight. Archie had a large map of the world stuck on the living room wall. It had pins on it marking their stopover points and red string marking the route.

"Right," said Archie. "This is how it will be. We're going to follow the same route used in the 1934 air race to Australia. The big difference is that we'll stop at these points overnight to keep us and the machine in top knick.

"We'll stay at a pub near Croydon on Thursday night. At 6.30 a.m on Friday we'll leave Croydon airport and fly non-stop to Baghdad. It's about 2500 miles and should take about thirteen hours. We'll stop there overnight to re-fuel, check the Comet and rest.

"At first light on Saturday morning we'll push on to Allahabad in India. It's nearly 1700 miles and should take us about eight and a half hours. Once again we'll service the aircraft and rest overnight.

"Sunday will be the big day. We'll leave Allahabad as early as possible and fly-non-stop to Singapore, which is about 2850 miles. That'll be over fouteen hours in the Comet, so we'll have to be on our toes because the fuel tanks will be nearly dry by the time we get there. We'll only stay long enough to fuel and service the aircraft, have a meal and take a toilet break.

"After that we'll press on to Batavia in Sumatra. It's not that far at 550-odd miles, but it will make it a long day. From there we'll have to get a boat to Ed's island or, preferably, a flying boat if we can find one."

"What's a flying boat?" asked Andy.

"It's an aircraft that can take off and land on water. They're quite common; you don't have them in the 21st Century?" Stephens asked.

"Not that I know of," Andy replied. "But I'm also confused. Looking at the map I brought with me, I can see Singapore and Baghdad, but I can't find an Allahabad or Batavia."

Stephens looked over Andy's shoulder.

"There's Allahabad in the centre of India, but it appears Sumatra is now called Indonesia and the capital city Batavia is now Jakarta. Best you just use one of our maps to avoid confusion."

Archie interrupted impatiently.

"Now we've had our little geography lesson can we carry on?"

They spent rest of the day fine tuning the flight plan, inspecting equipment and attending to a dozen other details.

Their work was interrupted by a knock at the door. Stephens answered it and could be heard talking to someone.

"Who is it Stephens?" Archie yelled from the kitchen

"It's Mr Cropp, the gamekeeper," Stephens replied. "I'm afraid he has some disturbing news for us."

"Well, don't keep him out there in the cold man. Bring him in."

Stephens returned with Mr Cropp a moment later. He was a lean man, with distinctive rusty coloured hair and sharp looking eyes. Andy could see he was a bit nervous about something. Archie got up and shook his hand.

"How are you old chap?" Archie asked. "Here, take a seat."

"Not bad Sir, not bad. The old knees are starting to get me a bit this past winter."

Stephens passed Mr Cropp a cup of tea as he sat down.

"What's the news?" said Archie.

"Well, Sir. I was doing my usual walk around the boundary of the estate this morning, when I came upon a funny foreign-looking chap sitting inside the fence line looking at the manor house from across the paddock. He doesn't see me so I sneak up behind him and poke my shotgun in his back and demands to know what he's doing."

Archie roared with laughter.

"That would have frightened him. What did he say?"

Mr Cropp took a sip of his tea then carried on.

"That's the thing, Sir. He got a shock alright but he was quick to recover. He said that he wanted to know about you and this boy here. He offered me six months wages for information about some necklace thing the boy's got. Said that the likes of you treat the likes of me like slaves and I should have no worries about taking the money and telling 'im what he needs to know."

Archie thumped the table.

"Cheeky bloody foreigners! What did I tell you Andy? I hope you sent him packing Croppy."

"Oh too right I did, Sir. Told him your Da' and you 'ave been good to me over the years and threatened to shoot 'im if he didn't scarper quick smart! He didn't believe me until I pointed my gun at 'im. Then he called me a fool and tried to 'ave a go at me."

"Did he, the blighter?" said Archie. "What did you do?"

"He tried to grab my shotgun and we 'av a bit of a struggle, then Boom! The gun goes off, then he screams an' runs off clutching one hand. Silly fool must've had his hand over the end of the barrel 'cos there were two fingers lying on the ground. One of 'em had this ring on it."

Mr Cropp pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and opened it up. Inside it was a bloodied gold ring with a large black rectangular stone. Inlaid on the top of the stone was a gold snake in the shape of an S.

Andy felt sick looking at the bloodied ring. Archie and Stephens seemed quite unperturbed.

"Where're the fingers?" Stephens casually asked.

"Buried," said Mr Cropp. "Didn't want anyone to see them. I'm not in trouble am I?"

"I shouldn't think so," said Archie. "This blighter trespasses, spies on us, threatens you and then assaults you. I don't think he'll go to the police."

Archie took a closer look at the ring.

"Do you mind if we keep it?"

"Take it. I don't want the damned thing."

"Good man," said Archie. "Stay for lunch."

"No thanks, Sir. Got to deliver some pheasants up to the manor for tonight's dinner, then get on home for a stiff drink."

Stephens saw Mr Cropp to the door.

"I don't like this, Sir," he said as he came back into the room.

"Neither do I. Andy, I think you need to go back to your own time. We seem to have attracted the wrong sort of attention."

"Not likely. I'm staying. Anyway, we'll be leaving England soon to rescue your brother and they won't know where we've gone. They're probably just after you for insulting them anyway."

"Alright, you can stay. Stephens. I want you to have a talk to the other staff and get them to keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

After lunch they carried on with the preparations for the flight. By 9.00 p.m they had finally reached a point where Archie was satisfied and called it a day. Andy was asleep soon after.

At 8.00 a.m the next day Andy and Archie were on their way to Croydon airport in Archie's mother's Riley. Archie was driving the car at his usual frenetic pace, which made Andy feel uncomfortable given the lack of seat belts. Archie only laughed at the suggestion that they should have them.

On their arrival at Croydon they went straight to the hangar where the Comet was being serviced. Archie and the owner, Mr Tasker went into an office to complete the lease agreement for the plane. Andy stayed near the airplane looking it over. For a plane built over sixty years before he was born Andy thought it looked quite modern and sleek. It also looked very small; almost too small to travel halfway round the world in. Andy chatted with the mechanic until Archie and Mr Tasker returned. They shook hands and Mr Tasker wished Archie good luck.

"Come on Andy," Archie said as he walked towards the door. "We'll carry on to London and get those jobs done. Then I'll find us a nice Inn on the way home and treat you to a meal."

Andy was enjoying the Riley as they drove through London. It was slow, noisy and draughty, even by comparison with his mother's old Corolla, but its faults gave it character and made it seem more alive.

Archie stopped at the London office of the Gull Oil Company and went inside. Andy waited in the car. He came out again about twenty minutes later and they drove to the tailor's to pick up Andy's flying suit.

The tailor insisted that Andy try on the flying suit to check the fit. It was made of thick brown leather and had a sheep-skin lining. The pants went nearly up to his chest and were held up by old fashioned braces. The jacket was made of the same material with a high collar. It was very warm and Andy was soon sweating.

"It's a bit hot isn't it?"

"You won't think it's too hot over the Alps with ice inside the cockpit," Archie replied.

Half an hour and fifty pounds later they walked out of the tailor's. Andy was busy chatting to Archie and did not see the man in front of him walk out of a shop door. The two collided and Andy fell over.

The man bent over and took Andy by the arm to help him up.

"Sorry there young fella, no damage done, eh?"

Andy spotted the Kiwi accent immediately. He looked up at the man and nearly fell back down again in shock. He knew the slender face and curly blond locks straight away.

"You're Jack Lovelock!" he said.

The man smiled.

"Yes I am," he said. "How did you know?"

"You're going to win gold in the 1500 metres in the nineteen thirty si... I mean, this year's Olympics. You and Jesse Owens will be the major upset of the games. I did a school project on you last term."

Jack Lovelock laughed.

"Steady on," he said. "I haven't even run the race yet. You'll jinx me. What's your name?"

"Andy. Andy Anderson Sir."

Jack Lovelock reached out and shook Andy's hand.

"Well Andy Anderson, obviously visiting from New Zealand, I'm pleased to see you have so much faith in me."

Andy was smiling like a lunatic.

"Nice to meet you too Mr Lovelock. Meeting you has made my trip."

After a few minutes chatting, the two said goodbye and went on their way.

"So that chap is going to clean up the 1500 in Berlin?" said Archie, obviously impressed.

"Yep, they called it the perfect race."

"And this other chap, Jessie Owens, he wins as well?"

"Sure does. He was the star of the games. Hitler refused to meet him though."

"Why's that?"

"Because he was black."

"Oh!" said Archie surprised. "A Negro beating Mr Hitler's Aryan supermen eh? Old Adolph wouldn't like that at all."

Andy stopped and looked at Archie. He looked far away, as though he was plotting something. It made him suspicious.

"Why are you asking?"

"Oh, no reason. Let's go to that pub and get your passport shall we?"

They hopped into the Riley and drove to the Blind Beggar pub. It was a seedy run-down looking place that had obviously seen better days. Archie parked the car and turned to Andy.

"This is a pretty rough looking place. I'll go in and you stay in the car."

"OK."

Archie went in the pub. It was no better on the inside than it appeared from the car. He strained to see Charlie through the low haze of cigarette smoke in the dimly-lit room. After a minute Archie saw him leaning on the bar. Charlie nodded then walked towards a table at the far end of the room. Archie followed him over and they sat down together. No one paid any attention. They all knew better than to nose into Charlie's business.

"Do you have them?" Archie said.

"Yes, they're very nice one too. Much better than expected."

Charlie passed the passports over and Archie had a discrete look, before slipping them into his pocket.

"Thank you very much," he said.

"Pleasure doing business, but you'll keep it to yourself. You've probably got an idea of what will happen to you if you don't."

Archie gave an involuntary shudder. The look in Charlie's eyes spoke volumes about the consequences of getting on the wrong side of him.

"Of course I'll keep it to myself. However; does this fine establishment have a local bookmaker? I have a bet I'd like to make."

Charlie sat back and studied Archie as he took a mouthful of beer.

"You don't strike me as the sort of man that needs to gamble."

"Well, this isn't a gamble. It's as good as done already."

"What's the bet?"

"Jack Lovelock to win the 1500 metres at this summer's Olympics in Berlin."

"Jack Lovelock? Never heard of him. How do you know he's gonna win. Is the race fixed?"

'No of course not. I just have it on very good authority that Lovelock's the man."

Charlie took several long gulps on his pint glass and then wiped his mouth.

"Well, it's your money I suppose. Come with me and I'll introduce you to Reggie. He's one of the biggest bookies in the east end."

Andy had been sitting in the car for about ten minutes.

"Man, how long does it take to get an illegal passport?" he thought to himself. "Archie's probably mouthed off to someone inside the pub and is getting a beating."

He sat back in the seat and closed his eyes to have a nap while he was waiting. No sooner had he done so, than his door was wrenched open and he was grabbed by the collar and hauled out of the car.

He found himself being roughly held by a man who looked very much like one of the men from the train.

"Is this him?" the man called over his shoulder in a thick accent.

Andy looked and saw three more men. Two looked like the one that was holding him, but the third was a huge ugly brute with a bandage on his right hand.

"That's him. Bring him to the car."

Andy kicked and struggled for all he was worth.

"Help, help!" he called. "Archie! Someone get Archie!"

A woman who was walking past tried to intervene.

"Oi you, bloody foreigners. Let that boy go!"

One of the men pushed her out of the way just as one of the patrons from the pub stuck his head out the door to see what was going on. He called back inside to his mates.

"Hey, boys. There's a woman an' a kid getting a hiding from some foreign-looking bods out here. Come on!"

He charged out of the door and was hit in the face by one of the group who was kidnapping Andy.

"Get that boy into the car before we have to fight all the scum in this whole neighborhood!" the ugly man called.

Andy tried to kick free but was hit hard around the head. He saw stars and went limp. The men bundled him into their car and sped off at the same time as the patrons inside the pub crashed out onto the street looking for a fight. Archie and Charlie were amongst them. Archie looked over to the Riley parked nearby and saw it sitting empty with the passenger's front door open. Feeling a tide of panic within him he looked back to the getaway car speeding off into the distance.

"Oh no! What have I done?"

Chapter Seventeen

Tim had been in the car for about twenty minutes when it pulled into a driveway and stopped at the gate. Mr Brown leaned out of his window and pressed a card against a black box by the fence. The gates opened silently and they drove down a long shingle drive towards a large old brick house.

"Gee, this place is huge. It must be worth a fortune," said Tim.

Mr Brown smiled.

"Yes, the owner is the richest man in the country and certainly one of the wealthier ones globally."

"Really! He must have a heap of big houses like this."

"No, only this one."

"Wow. If I had that much cash I'd have houses and cars all over the place and a private jet to get me there."

"I'm sure you would, however this owner prefers to keep a low profile."

"Why?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

They were met by a man as they got out of the Jaguar.

"Good afternoon, Dr Stott. How is he today?" asked Mr Brown.

"Oh, good afternoon, AJ. Not good news I'm afraid. I think his time is near. He's driven himself hard and abused his body in doing so," the doctor replied.

"Well, he is a very old man now," Mr Brown said with a hint of sadness.

The doctor turned and looked at Tim.

"This must be the young man he's been waiting so long to see. I suspect that our friend upstairs will be very pleased to see you. Goodbye gentlemen. I'll be back tomorrow."

As they went into the house Tim tried hard to make sense of the conversation.

"I take it there's some old giffer upstairs who is on death's door and wants to see me before he pops off," he asked Mr Brown.

"Not quite how I would put it, but an accurate summary nevertheless."

"So who is the old bloke who wants to see me?"

"As I said, you'll have to wait and find out. But I will safely say that you'll know him when you see him."

"I don't know any 'very old' men," Tim thought to himself.

Tim had one more question.

"Speaking of names, the doctor called you AJ. What does that stand for?"

Mr Brown hesitated for a moment, as if he was considering how to answer the question.

"If you must know, it's from my grandfather, Archibald, or Archie as he was known. When I was young, everybody called me Archie, or Junior. I hated both, so now I'm just AJ."

"Fair enough, I suppose." said Tim.

The interior of the house looked like it was out of an old movie. The walls were wood-paneled with expensive looking paintings accompanied by impressive antique furniture.

They climbed a huge wooden staircase which led to an upstairs landing. The house was almost completely silent. Tim couldn't hear a sound other than the steady tick-tock of a grandfather clock at the other end of the landing. Mr Brown pointed to some French doors.

"We're going to the sunroom over there."

As they approached Tim could see an old man sitting in a wicker chair with his back to them, dressed in a light-colored suit and wearing a hat, as older men do. He appeared to be asleep, eyes closed, gently breathing with a rug over his lap.

Mr Brown walked quietly up to the old man and spoke gently into his ear.

"Uncle, it's AJ. Young Tim is here to see you."

The old man opened his eyes.

"Is that you AJ? Pass me my glasses will you."

Having taken a minute to adjust his glasses, the old man turned to Tim and smiled with obvious delight.

"Hello Tim. I'm glad you agreed to come. It's been such a long time since we last spoke. I thought I might never get to speak to you again."

Tim was more than a little disturbed. It was the same old man who had spoken to Andy at the museum!

"What do you mean by 'speak to me again'?" Tim asked. "We've never met. And besides, I only came because Mr Brown here is my teacher and I trust him."

The old man chuckled and then looked over to Mr Brown, who was pouring tea.

"You were right to trust him. He's my nephew and my right-hand man. I suppose you want to know why an old codger like me wants to talk to you."

He picked up a cup and saucer and took a sip of tea. Tim noticed the old man's hand shaking slightly as he did so.

"Ahh, lovely. Want one?" he asked Tim.

"No thanks, I'm not a tea drinker."

The old man put his tea down and reached over the side of his chair, still talking to Tim as he did so.

"Yes, I couldn't remember if you like hot drinks so I got a couple of bottles of Coke. I was a bit of a cola addict myself when I was younger."

He swung back round with difficulty towards Tim and held out two bottles for him. Tim stood there, completely at a loss.

"Well, don't just stand there like a stunned mullet. Sit down and have a drink. We've got a lot to talk about and I haven't got much time left to me."

Tim looked at the old fellow. His voice was familiar, as was his demeanor.

"Who are you?"

The old man took his glasses off and leaned towards Tim, holding a steady gaze.

"Oh I think you've already figured that out. Surely I haven't changed that much?"

Tim held gazed back at him.

'No. It can't be!'

Chapter Eighteen

Andy tried not to panic as the Talisman was pulled from his neck. He half expected to vanish and leave this nightmare behind, but he didn't. The Ugly Man who'd slapped him before grabbed his hair and pulled him up until they were eye to eye.

"Thought you'd disappear when we took the Talisman off, didn't you? Shows you've got no idea about what you've got yourself into"

The man spat as he talked and his breath was appalling. Someone behind Andy grabbed his wrists and tied a rope around them.

"Oww! Not so tight. It hurts!" he cried.

He was slapped around the ears so hard he saw stars.

"Shut up boy, or I'll gut you here in the car! Ruane, gag the little rodent and blindfold him."

Andy had a sack pulled over his head and was pushed to the floor. He was more frightened now than he'd ever been in his life. The car carried on for another half hour or so, turning occasionally, starting and stopping but never really cruising for any length of time.

'I'm still in town, not out in the country," Andy thought.

The motion of the car was starting to get to him. With his head in the bag he was worried he would be sick and choke, however the car stopped before he threw up. A door opened and someone got out. A minute later whoever it was came back.

"It's too exposed here. Take the car round back and he'll open up for you."

The car started again and moved quietly forward, then stopped again. Andy was grabbed by the feet and hauled out of the car then carried inside. He could hear footsteps on bare timber boards and some ancient hinges protest as a door opened. A second later he was thrown onto something very cold and smelly.

"Coal," thought Andy. "I've been biffed into a coal shed."

The hinges screeched again as the door closed and the room went completely dark. Andy struggled against his ropes for a while but gave up in defeat. He wriggled onto his back and listened, but couldn't hear a thing.

Pain woke Andy up. He didn't know when he'd fallen asleep, but his bladder was full and demanded attention. For a brief moment he'd forgotten where he was, until he heard the men's voices outside the door. Andy couldn't make out what was being said, but it was obvious there was a disagreement between the parties. The voices got louder and then the argument became violent.

"No!" cried a voice.

Andy heard a horrible scream and a thump against the door next to him. Then a gun was fired. Two rounds in quick succession, a gap, then bang! Another shot.

"God, someone's being murdered out there," Andy thought to himself.

He strained to hear more but there was silence. His bladder was killing him now and fear was making it worse. The door was thrown open and he was wrenched up by his arms. He could hear the man breathing hard. His breath stank. Andy guessed it was the Ugly Man.

"I've just killed two of my mates over you and I'm quite happy to send you the same way. Are you going to give me any trouble?"

"No," said Andy meekly. "But I'm desperate to pee. Can I go please?"

The man laughed.

"I thought you'd have wet your pants by now. All right, I'll let your arms go and you can turn round and go on this coal heap, but I'll be right behind you so behave!"

He untied the ropes binding Andy's wrists and pulled the sack from his head. Andy squinted in the light. The Ugly Man was in front of him holding an evil-looking serrated knife which was covered in blood. Fear got the better of Andy and he felt himself starting to go. He spun round to face the coal heap just in time and the Ugly Man stomped out of the room.

"Come out here when you're done!" he called.

When Andy stepped through the doorway, he noticed something was partially blocking it. To his horror lying on the floor was a dead man. At least Andy presumed he was dead. No one could loose that much blood and still be alive.

Just a few feet from the first dead man was another corpse, lying on its back and staring at Andy with lifeless eyes. It had three bullet wounds; two in the chest and one between the eyes.

Andy fell to his knees as a wave of nausea rushed over him. He was about to vomit when a hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, then dragged him into another room and tossed him into a chair.

"Sit there. Don't speak and don't move!" snarled the Ugly Man.

Andy did as he was told, forcing himself to try and be calm and let the nausea pass.

"My God. Just look what you've done. A double murder in the back of my shop. We'll hang for sure!"

Andy looked towards the voice and saw a thin, pale man, immaculately dressed in a business suit with a bow tie and round spectacles. He was a nervous wreck, visibly shaking and wiping teary eyes and a runny nose. The Ugly Man was across on the other side of the room searching through an open safe.

"Shut up!" he snapped. "You're lucky you're not lying dead next to them. It's only by the good grace of the Great Master's rules, you being a helper and all."

He returned his attention to the safe and pulled a wooden box from it.

"Ah, here it is," he said as he opened the box. "Bring the boy and the Talisman to me."

The Thin Man went over to Andy and gave him a nudge.

"I'm sorry but you'd better come with me," he said weakly.

Andy saw that the Ugly Man had taken a gold collar out of the box. He turned to Andy with an evil smile.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked pointing at the collar.

"A headband?" Andy said hesitantly.

"Close, but no," the Ugly Man replied, "It is a collar and you're going to wear it."

He lifted up his hand and showed Andy a ring similar to the one Mr Cropp had recovered, only bigger and more ornate. Andy noticed a bandage on his hand covering what appeared to be the stumps of where two fingers used to be.

"This ring comes from the time of the Great Master, as does the collar. We will use them as a 'key' like you have used that coin hanging round your neck. With this ring and collar, I will return this half of the Talisman to our Great Master where he will re-unite it with the other half of the Talisman. Then he will be the ruler of the earth. With the knowledge I take back with us and the power of the Talisman we will sweep the Spaniards and the English aside. They will become part of our empire."

The Ugly Man picked up the Talisman and set the dials, while the Thin Man put the collar round Andy's neck. He seemed to be very nervous and fumbled about.

"Hurry up!" the Ugly Man shouted.

"I'm doing my best," said the Thin Man.

Then, when the Ugly Man was checking the settings on the Talisman, the little man whispered in Andy's ear.

"The catch has a difficult lock. The collar can be removed, but you'll need help."

Andy nodded slightly, but he was a little confused. He understood the collar was a key like the flying helmet and the coin necklace, but where was he being taken?

The Ugly Man looked up from the Talisman.

"It's set correctly. Bring the boy over here."

The Thin Man pushed Andy to the Ugly Man.

"Wait!" cried the Thin Man. "What about the bodies....? Oh they're gone."

Chapter Nineteen

Archie was sitting in the gutter with his head in his hands, sick to his stomach with guilt and worry.

Charlie was talking to the old woman and the man who had been knocked down by the kidnappers. He came back smiling and sat down next to Archie.

"Cheer up mate," he said. "It's not quite as bad as you think."

"What have you possibly got to be happy about?" Archie asked irritably. "Andy's gone and it's my fault."

"That may be true but, one of my boys reckons he knows the car that those men were in."

Archie looked up.

"How's that?" he said.

"Would it surprise you to know that me and my friends here deal in, how shall we say, goods of questionable ownership?"

"It wouldn't shock me in the least."

"Well when we have some jewellery there's a man we go and see. He takes it off our hands for a fair price, no questions asked."

"What's that got to do with Andy being kidnapped?"

"One of the boys reckons that the Citroen they drove off in belongs to our friendly jeweller."

"Are you sure?" asked Archie.

Charlie smiled.

"As sure as we can be after spending most of the day in the pub."

It wasn't the answer Archie wanted. Charlie and his men were clearly showing the effects of their drinking. He stood up and held a hand out to Charlie who struggled back to his feet.

"Right, let's get some coffee into you and your friends to sober you up. Then we'll go to this jeweller's shop for a talk."

"Too right," said Charlie. "We'd better get tooled up in case we meet them foreign blokes."

"What! Do you mean guns?" Archie asked a little shocked.

"No, course not!" Charlie replied. "Do we look like the sort of blokes that have the money to buy guns? No, its special tools for us."

They walked off to find some of Charlie's more reliable mates.

Two hours and several arguments over directions later they arrived at the jeweller's shop. It looked closed and the car wasn't out the front. One of Charlie's men went for a walk down the alleyway beside the shop and returned a few minutes later.

"The car's out the back. It's all quiet inside, but the back door is slightly open."

"Alright," said Charlie. "Here's what we do. You go round the back and wait; I'll knock at the front door. He knows me; we've done business before. When you hear me inside, come in."

Charlie's men slipped down the alley to the back of the shop. Charlie turned to Archie.

"You stay here, they might recognise you. Give me your watch as well."

"Why?"

"'Cos I'm going to make out I've got some stolen gear to get rid of, so he'll open the door."

Archie handed over his watch and Charlie went up to the jeweller's door. It was locked and had a closed sign hanging in the window. Charlie knocked hard. There was no response so he knocked again, this time a lot harder.

The jeweller came to the door, saw Charlie and opened it slightly.

"I'm not open today. I'm not feeling well."

Charlie pulled out Archie's watch and showed it to the jeweller.

"You'll be open for me though, I've got this lovely bit of gear for you," he said as he stepped towards the door.

"Not today, sorry. I'm not interested," said the jeweller as he tried to close the door.

Charlie grabbed the door frame and thrust it forward, just far enough to crack the jeweller on the forehead. The smaller man fell back into the shop followed by Charlie. Archie entered a few seconds later. From the back room they could hear shouts and curses. Charlie had his weapon out ready for a fight when one of his men came running in from the back room. He was looking pale.

"You should see the mess out there!" he said. "There's two dead; one with knife wounds and the other has been shot."

Archie raced into the back room.

"Andy!"

There were four rooms out the back and it took him less than a minute to establish that Andy wasn't there. He stormed back into the shop and hauled the weedy little jeweller up until he was face to face.

"Where is he? Where's the boy?!" he snarled.

"I can't tell you. They'll kill me," the frightened jeweller replied.

Charlie grabbed the man and spun him round.

"Don't worry about them. They're not here; we are. Worry about us!"

The jeweller just whimpered and stammered.

"I... I c-can't."

Charlie threw the man down.

"Right boys, let's take what we can carry then smash the joint up."

"No. Wait!" said Archie, with a sinister look on his face. "Goods can be replaced and shops can be repaired."

He looked down at the jeweller.

"How many items do you have in this shop?"

"About two hundred," the jeweller replied.

"Good, that's about one for every bone in your body," Archie said. "We'll save your stock and break your bones instead. Start with his fingers, boys then work up from there."

Charlie's men stepped towards the jeweller who was backing up against a wall.

"No, wait! I'll tell you what you want!"

The men stopped, looking a little disappointed.

"Speak while you still can little man," Charlie said.

"I've been a member of their group for about two years now. I've been on my own since my mother died you see and I don't know many...."

Archie snapped at the jeweller.

"Save the history lesson. We're not interested."

"Very well. They came this morning and said they knew where the Talisman was and that the time had arrived to regain it and take it back to its rightful owner. They demanded my car and were gone for about two hours. When they returned they had a boy with them. I said I didn't want anything to do with kidnapping a child, but I was threatened with my life if I didn't help them. They threw the boy into my coal shed while they prepared for the trip, but they had a terrible argument over who was going to have the honour of returning the Talisman. When the other two weren't looking, the leader stabbed one and shot the other. Then he took the boy and left. You only missed them by a few minutes."

Charlie grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.

"Who is he and where has he taken the boy?"

"I don't know his name. I just had instructions the other day that he would arrive with two others and that I was to help them with whatever they requested."

"I don't believe you!" Charlie said, as he gave the jeweller a vicious shake.

"Please, it's the truth. I've told you all I know!"

Archie stepped forward and placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder stopping him from shaking the little jeweller like a rag doll.

"I think he's told us most of what he knows, but I'd like a word with him in private if I may."

Charlie let the jeweller's go. The little man slumped to the floor and rubbed his neck.

"C'mon boys, we'll wait outside and let the gents chat."

After Charlie and his mates had gone Archie squatted down next to the jeweller.

"I have a couple of questions."

"I've told you all I can," protested the jeweller.

"Would you like my colleagues to continue the interview?"

The jeweller went pale again and waved his hands.

"No. I tell you what I can, but I think I've nothing more of value."

"I'll decide that," said Archie. "Your associate has used the Talisman hasn't he?"

At the mention of the Talisman the jeweller went rigid and stared at Archie.

"Yes," he said hesitantly.

"And he's taken Andy with him, hasn't he?"

"Yes."

"Where and when has he been taken to?"

"To the land of the Maya, three hundred and fifty years before now."

"How did he get Andy there?"

"If the user is holding onto another person they are taken as well."

"Doesn't he need something to stay there, like my flying helmet he was using to stay here?"

"Yes. He has a golden collar. One of a number that was made by the goldsmiths of the Great Master when he first formed the sect."

And Andy has this 'collar' around his neck?"

"Yes, I fitted it myself, but I didn't completely close the clasp. I whispered that to him. If he manages to get his hands free he can pull it open and he'll return here."

"What do you mean? Right back to this shop?"

"That's correct. Right back to the exact spot he left from."

"And when could that happen?"

"I don't know. However long he stays in the 1500s he'll stay away from here for the same amount of time."

"Is there any way I can rescue him?"

"No, unfortunately. I'd help you if I could."

"Yes. I believe you would. Wait here."

Archie leant out the front door and called to Charlie and his two men who came back into the shop. He spoke to one of Charlie's men.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Would I ever? I've got the dry horrors something awful."

"Good, then could the two of you take our jeweller friend out back while Charlie and I have a talk."

The two men took the jeweller out the back. Archie turned to Charlie.

"Charlie, I have a story which is straight out of the realms of science fiction, but I swear on my life it is true. In fact it is the reason why I have placed a large sum of money on two outsiders to win gold in the forthcoming Olympics."

Archie told Charlie about Andy and the Talisman from start to finish. Charlie was unable to believe what he was hearing, but he was surrounded by evidence of it at the same time. When Archie finished there was silence for a minute, then Charlie spoke.

"So, we can't get one of these Talis-whatsit-things and get the boy?"

"No," said Archie gloomily.

"That means the only thing we can do is hope he gets free and wait for him here to return."

"Yes," said Archie.

"We'll do that. You go and get your brother."

Archie called out to the men in the rear of the shop. When they came in, he addressed the jeweller.

"Do you want to make good what you have done and redeem yourself?"

"Yes, of course," the jeweller replied.

"How much money do you have in your safe?"

"About sixty pounds. Why?"

"Here's what you're going to do. You are going to give these men the money and in return they will help you clean up the mess out the back. One of them will be here at all times for the next few days in the event that Andy comes back. You will feed them and give them every assistance. You will also contact Charlie immediately upon Andy's return. Do you agree?"

"Yes," said the jeweller.

"Do I have to remind you what these men will do to you if you break this agreement?"

The jeweller went pale.

"No. I give you my word. I'll do as you ask, but there's just one thing I think I should tell you."

"What's that?" Archie said.

"I think you need to know what you are dealing with," the jeweller said. "The Sect is very secretive; it is well funded and has people all over the world who are in constant communication with each other. They're everywhere, many of them well-placed in the highest levels of society. If you get the boy back, they will come after you. You'll be doing very well to stay out of their clutches for long."

"We'll see about that!" Archie snapped, as he turned to leave.

He gave the air of a confident man, but inside he felt real fear creeping into his stomach for the first time since the Great War.

Chapter Twenty

Andy had got himself into trouble before, but nothing like this. In the past few hours he'd managed to get kidnapped, beaten, and journey back in time. Now he was locked in a dark, stinking dungeon. He sat with his back against the wall and felt like crying in despair.

The trip back to whatever time he was in had taken a lot longer than the others, so he could only presume that they had travelled a lot further back than before.

They'd arrived in a fabulously decorated chamber guarded by two massively built men, who tried not to look shocked at their sudden appearance. They greeted the Ugly Man in a language Andy could not understand. The conversation only lasted a couple of minutes before one of the guards ran off.

After a while the guard returned and they were escorted to a huge room filled with people. There was excited chatter in the room and those at the back were straining to see. A silence fell over the crowd as they entered.

"Watch this," the Ugly Man said to Andy.

He stepped forward and with a theatrical swoop pulled the Talisman over his head and lifted it as high as he could. The crowd went wild cheering.

Andy heard three thumps over the noise of the crowd, as something hard was hit against the floor. Across on the far side of the room he saw a tall dark man holding a wooden staff rise from a throne. He was thin, with sharp hawkish features and was wearing a cloak made from exotic bird feathers.

"It's the High Priest," the ugly man whispered hoarsely to Andy. "Kneel down or you'll get both of us killed!"

The High Priest stepped from his throne and walked towards Andy and the Ugly Man. People tried desperately to get out of his way as he went. Those who weren't quick enough were savagely kicked by the guards on either side of him. He stopped in front of Andy and the Ugly Man, and then uttered something to the guards, who grabbed the two of them by their hair and pushed them to their knees. Andy felt the cold blade of a knife on his throat.

Without a word the Ugly Man held his arm out and showed the Talisman to the High Priest. He began to speak. The Priest listened and spoke back. The Ugly Man said something else and pointed to Andy. The leader looked at Andy and then roared with laughter. After a few minutes of what seemed like cordial banter, both he and Andy were dragged to their feet.

"It looks like you've saved us," Andy said.

"You are half right."

"What do you mean half right?" Andy asked suspiciously.

The Ugly Man gave Andy a sinister smile.

"What I mean, is that I'm a hero and you're going to be sacrificed tomorrow as thanks to the Gods for returning the Talisman."

"No!" yelled Andy.

He tried vainly to break free, but slumped to the ground in agony as one of the guys dropped an elbow onto the back of his neck.

Several hours later, Andy woke in a darkened cell. He'd been sitting for several minutes, pondering his fate, when he heard a noise nearby.

"Hello?" he called out, hesitantly.

A small head poked out from the blackness at the other end of the room into the light shining from the door. It was a small boy, probably no older than about six or seven.

"It's alright, I won't hurt you," said Andy. "Man, what are these creeps doing locking little kids up," he thought to himself.

The boy took a few steps closer. Andy struggled to his feet, his tied hands made it difficult to do so.

"Come on, mate. It's OK," he said in a gentle tone trying to reassure the boy.

A voice yelled from the other side of the door and the boy disappeared into the darkness like a frightened rat. Andy took his cue from the boy and stopped talking.

Looking into the gloom from where the boy was quietly watching him, Andy noticed a number of other small shapes. He tried to count them as best he could and figured there were about six children sitting near to him in absolute silence. Andy could feel their fear.

"How bad is this?" he thought. "I'm twice their age and I'm filling my pants. These guys must be petrified. If I can get these ropes off my wrists perhaps I can do something."

Andy turned to the little boy next to him and twisted his body so his bound wrists were obvious.

"Hey wee man," he whispered. "Help me with these ropes will you?"

The boy shot a finger to his mouth.

"Shhh!"

Andy got the message. He sat back against the wall and the room fell into silence again. He tried to wriggle out of his ropes for a while, but gave up. His head and neck were pounding from where he'd been hit. Occasionally a guard would put his face up to the door, look in and then disappear.

The noise of the door opening gave him a fright. Squinting as the light from outside streamed in, he watched as a person walked in carrying a wooden tray with a large earthenware pot and a number of smaller bowls. Their features were hidden under a long flowing robe with a hood on it. He guessed this person was a servant.

Behind the servant came the guard carrying a flaming torch. In the flickering light Andy looked across the room and saw several small children cowering in the corner hiding their faces from the guard. The children were filthy, dressed in dirty rags and looked half starved. The little boy sitting next to Andy stayed put, eyeing the guard and the servant warily.

The servant stopped in front of Andy and bent down on one knee. He watched as the bowls were placed in front of him and then the lid was taken off the pot. Steam rose from the pot as the servant scooped a sickly green soup into the bowls. As the servant ladled the soup, he looked towards the little boy sitting next to Andy and made a noise.

"Psst."

The boy looked up at the man and his face lit up. The servant shook his head gently. The boy looked away then picked up a bowl of soup and motioned to Andy to do the same. Andy couldn't because his arms were still tied behind his back so he gestured to the guard, who came over and produced a huge knife from under his belt. He showed the evil looking blade to Andy and by action and signs made it abundantly clear that he would do great harm to him if he tried anything silly. Andy nodded to the guard and turned so the man could cut the cords binding his wrists together. The knife sliced through the cords and Andy brought his arms round in front of him rubbing his wrists to get the circulation going.

A second later the guard screamed in agony. Andy instinctively jumped back and flung himself against a wall. He turned to see what was happening and saw the guard half bent over with his face in his hands. The servant had flung the scalding hot soup in his eyes and was now standing over him with the empty pot hanging from his right hand. As the guard staggered back, the servant took a step forward and swung the pot in an arc. It curved round and smashed against the guard's head. Bits flew in all directions as the guard staggered then fell to the floor with a hollow thump.

As soon as he hit the ground, the little boy rushed over to the hooded man and hugged him. The man knelt down and began speaking to the boy. Andy couldn't understand what they were saying but he guessed that the man was giving the boy instructions. The boy turned and went over to the other children who were still cowering in the corner and began to speak to them.

"He's here to rescue them," Andy thought. "I hope they take me too."

The man threw off the cloak. Andy was surprised to see that he was in his late teens, or, perhaps, his early twenties. Despite his age he was well built and muscular. All he was wearing was a loin cloth with an evil-looking dagger hanging from a belt next to it. This person was no servant; he looked every bit the warrior.

He turned and looked at Andy.

"Are you the one who come with Talisman?" he asked.

"Y-yes," said Andy searching for the words. "You speak English?"

"Yes."

"But you're Mayan. Where did you learn it from?"

"No time for me to tell. Your life is in danger. Come with me and the children or stay here and die tomorrow."

Chapter Twenty One

"I'll come," said Andy, as he jumped to his feet.

The Warrior pointed to the children.

"You take three children, I take three. Follow me, do what I say and be quiet."

The children fell in behind and the group moved out of the cell.

"Did you kill the guard?" Andy asked him.

The Warrior smiled.

"No, just hit him hard. He will sleep well. But tomorrow he will wish he was dead when the High Priest finds you gone."

The group moved quietly up some steps to another door which led onto a passageway. Just past this door another guard was lying unconscious on the floor with a bowl of soup spilled next to him. The Warrior smiled.

"You?" Andy asked pointing at the guard.

"No, poison in his food," the Warrior replied.

They followed the Warrior down the passageway to another doorway. Without looking back, he held his arm out and signaled for the group to stop. He peeked through the gap for a few seconds, then signaled them forward and they slipped outside.

They were in a dark alleyway between two large buildings. The Warrior led them down the alley to where a man and a woman were waiting in the shadows. The woman rushed to the children and spoke quietly to them, hugging each one in turn. Andy noticed some of them smiling for the first time.

The man and the Warrior shook hands, and then he and the woman led the children away. The Warrior turned to Andy.

"The children are safe now. We have one more job to do."

"What's that?" asked Andy.

"We will get your half of Talisman back."

"Good," said Andy. "How do we do that?"

"We will go to palace and get it. Follow me."

"What's your name?" Andy asked the Warrior.

"Käpu'n. What is yours?"

"Andy."

"Andy," Käpu'n said almost to himself. "It is a short, easy name. What does Andy mean?"

"I don't know really. The full version is Andrew, but I never gave it much thought."

"You should find out. To understand your name, it is important."

Käpu'n was striding along at quite a pace. Andy was struggling to keep up.

"What does Käpu'n mean then?" he asked between puffs.

"Käpu'n means, 'young bull'."

They walked on in silence for a couple of minutes. Andy hadn't had a decent feed or a drink since leaving Archie's house and it was beginning to show. He finally stopped. Gasping for breath he yelled out.

"Käpu'n! I need a drink!"

Käpu'n stopped and looked back at Andy.

"Sorry, Andy. We will find you food and water not far from here, but we must keep going."

"OK," said Andy. "But can you at least walk a little slower."

Käpu'n smiled.

"Good. We shall walk slower. We are near the palace now."

They rounded a corner and a huge stone building lay in front of them.

"The palace," said Käpu'n.

Andy stood and tried to take in what he was seeing. The massive building was similar to the ancient Roman or Greek buildings he'd read about in his history books. It was impressive even by modern standards. Andy knew that the Maya didn't use machinery or even animals, so it was all built by human sweat and muscle. It should have been magnificent, but in the dark night with the orange glow of dozens of burning torches it just looked evil.

"Wow!" Andy said.

Käpu'n nodded.

"Yes. This is the back. We will get in this way."

As they walked towards the palace Andy heard a terrible din coming from inside.

"What's going on here?" he asked. "It sounds like New Year's Eve gone bad."

"They are here to celebrate the return of the Talisman and your sacrifice tomorrow, but my friends in the palace kitchen poisoned the food. Those who ate or drank anything will be sick and those who did not will be fighting for their lives."

"Fighting who?" asked Andy.

"I belong to a group who resisted the High Priest after he murdered our royal family. He now have both half of the Talisman. With the whole Talisman he can control time and history. He is an evil man who will do great harm to all the world."

"Did I hear you say 'my half' of the Talisman?"

"Yes, your half travels back. The half the priest has is forward travel half."

As Käpu'n was talking they approached an entrance to the palace. The guards at the door were lying on the ground looking very much like they were dead. Käpu'n stepped over them without as much as a second glance.

"We are late. My friends have started without me."

They entered through the door into a large corridor. Käpu'n hugged the left side and signalled Andy to do the same. He stopped at each door and took a careful look inside before moving forward. Inside one of the doors was the kitchen. By the look of the huge pots boiling over and the smell of burning food, the staff had left in a hurry. Peeping through another door they discovered a guardroom with a number of guards lying unconscious.

"It does not pay to steal your master's food," said Käpu'n. "Especially when it has been poisoned by my people."

Andy was shocked at all the dead people, and by Käpu'n's casual attitude.

They moved on and saw more of the same. Empty rooms with the occasional person lying unconscious or curled up in a ball groaning. It was obvious that this part of the palace had been hastily abandoned, but as they neared the large doors at the end of the corridor they heard the sounds of battle on the other side.

Käpu'n was about to look between the doors when a guard slammed against them and staggered through the gap. Käpu'n leapt back then drew his knife out and adopted a defensive stance. He stood almost side-on to the guard, his free hand forward and his knife held in the other hand behind him, out of the guards view. His legs were placed apart giving him a solid base from which to strike. He was also swaying gently on the balls of his feet making it hard to see which way he would move.

Andy didn't know the least bit about martial arts, but he'd seen enough action movies to know that Käpu'n looked the business.

The guard straightened himself up to his full height. He was huge. Well over six feet tall with massive muscles all over his body. Looking at Käpu'n he sneered. Andy thought he might pee his pants he was that frightened.

The guard stepped towards Käpu'n, but as he took a second step his face suddenly contorted in pain and confusion. He spent a few frantic seconds grasping behind him with a massive arm, then his eyes rolled back and, almost in slow motion, he fell to the floor.

Andy stood rooted to the spot still fighting his own battle with his bladder. Käpu'n relaxed a little and stood up. The cause of the huge guard's death became obvious as he fell. He had a large knife sticking out of his back. Just on the other side of the door the owner of the knife was smiling at Käpu'n.

"Acan, it is you. Thank you brother," Käpu'n called to him in his own language.

"You owe me a debt now," Acan replied. "He would have snapped you like a twig."

"I'm sure I will get the chance to pay you back. Things look bad."

"Not as bad as you think. We have the Priest cornered with what remains of his palace guard. The Talisman will soon be ours. Come!"

Käpu'n turned to Andy.

"My friend Acan has saved us. Come with me and stay close," he said, as he moved into the hall beyond the door.

Andy leapt over the body of the guard and ran after Käpu'n as he entered the hall. He was stunned by its size. It had been set up for a great feast with two rows of tables facing each other along each side of the room. At the far end of the hall was a massive golden throne that seemed to tower above everything else.

The scene inside the room itself was one of chaos. There were shouts and screams coming from below the throne, where anyone still standing was in a desperate battle.

Acan was just ahead of them running to join the fight. In front of him was a large group of people dressed like Käpu'n. As they got closer, Andy was starting to make sense of the chaotic scene. Käpu'n's comrades were in a semi-circle around a slightly smaller group of palace guards, who in turn had formed a circle around the High Priest. Behind him, on an elaborate gold plinth, was Andy's Talisman. Next to his was another identical Talisman.

Käpu'n's people were pressing forward against the guards, despite their savage efforts to defend the priest. Knives and spears were being wielded on both sides in a never-ending series of jabs and counter thrusts. The room echoed to the screams of the hurt and dying. If one of Käpu'n's people was wounded they would slip away from the battle. The fate for any guard who fell was sealed as Käpu'n's people closed around them.

Käpu'n turned to Andy and thrust him into a gap behind a stone pillar.

"Stay here and do not move," he said. "I will come back and get you. If you see me fall in battle, flee with my people. They will look after you."

Andy did not need to be told twice. He'd seen hundreds of battles on TV and had killed thousands more bad guys in video games, but none of that compared to this. The sound and smell of it all had turned his stomach into a knot and his legs to jelly, but in the midst of his worries he couldn't help but be fascinated watching Käpu'n go about his business.

Käpu'n made his way round to the side of the battle closer to the plinth where the two Talismen rested. He moved with a grace and stealth that attracted little attention and had all but snatched the Talisman when the Priest noticed him. He yelled to the guards and two of them turned to attack Käpu'n.

The first took two strides forward and made a wild slash at Käpu'n with a sword. Käpu'n had ample time to see the clumsy attack and ducked almost casually under the swinging weapon. In one fluid movement he spun, jabbed the guard in the ribs with his knife and then kicked his feet out from under him. The man fell and disappeared from sight amongst the crowd.

The second guard ran screaming up the steps, with his weapon raised high above his head as Käpu'n waited for him in a defensive crouch. Just as the guard was about to smash his weapon down, Käpu'n's leg shot out like a lightning bolt and kicked him in the center of his chest. The guard's face contorted with pain as he stumbled, then fell back into the crowd.

The Priest's men were now severely outnumbered and were struggling to protect him. The two Talismen were only a few metres from Käpu'n with no one close enough to stop him. He ran over to the plinth to grab the prize that so many of his people were fighting and dying for. The Priest stared at Käpu'n in horror as he realized he was about to lose everything. He screamed in a mad rage and burst through his guards towards Käpu'n, hacking at friend and foe alike as he went. Käpu'n's people fell back in fear, leaving Käpu'n unprotected.

"Look out Käpu'n, look out!" Andy screamed as loud as he could above the noise.

Käpu'n snatched up the two halves of the Talisman and turned to meet the priests attack. He raised his knife up and blocked the Priest's swinging blade. The Priest slashed again and was blocked a second time. The two stepped back and eyed each other warily. Käpu'n was torn between finishing off the priest or taking the two Talisman and making a run for it. Youth, speed and skill were on his side but common sense demanded he not risk losing both halves of the Talisman.

His mind was made up for him when the door at the other end of the hall flew open and more guards ran in to join the battle. He could see that his people would be fighting on two sides and that they would lose any advantage they had gained.

"Run, flee out the door behind the throne!" he shouted. "Andy, run as you never have before!"

Chapter Twenty Two

Andy saw the danger and ran from his hiding place like a sprinter out of the blocks. He hurdled over a table without breaking his stride and joined the fleeing crowd. He could see Käpu'n already at the door, yelling to him.

"To me Andy, run!"

Andy was one of the last out of the room. He could hear the Priest screaming in rage and the footsteps of the guards pursuing them. As he ran through the doors, two of Käpu'n's men slammed them shut and ran two spears through the handles on the other side.

"That will slow them down, but not for long," one of them said as they turned and ran.

The twenty to thirty survivors were challenged by a few guards who died where they stood. Andy thought his lungs would explode as he struggled to keep up in the maze of corridors and passageways. The few minutes that they took to escape the palace seemed like hours.

They burst out a side door into a cool dark street then slowed a little as they put some distance between themselves and the palace.

"It does not look like we are being pursued," Käpu'n said to Acan who was running next to him.

"No, the priest has very few guards who are not poisoned, wounded or dead. He will not venture out into the city until the numbers favour him. We must escape with the boy and the two halves of the Talisman while we can."

The group ran on for a few more minutes, and then stopped in a dark alleyway. Käpu'n spoke briefly with Acan and another man. He gave one half of the Talisman to Acan and then divided the group between the three of them. The other two men led their groups off in different directions.

"Come with me Andy," Käpu'n said. "I have your Talisman with me. We split them up so they will not be captured together as we escape the city."

"Why did you split into three groups?" Andy asked. "Wouldn't it be better to have more men with you?"

"No, Acan's group and I will escape by stealth. The other group will draw the guards away from us. We will meet outside the city."

"That sounds dangerous," Andy thought out loud.

"Yes," Käpu'n replied. "I fear we will not see many of them again."

They moved on with a great deal of caution. On a number of occasions they had to duck into doorways or alleys to avoid guards patrolling the city.

"How are we going to get out of the city with all of these guards around?" asked Andy. "They're obviously looking for us. We can't just walk out the gate can we?"

He could see Käpu'n grinning in the shadows.

"We are not going out the gate. We take another road."

"Where is it?"

"You have asked at a good time. Here it is."

No sooner had Käpu'n finished speaking than they stopped walking. Directly in front of them was something that looked like a riverbed. The stream at the bottom flowed past where they were standing and disappeared under the large wall not more than a hundred metres away. It had a disturbing odour coming from it.

"It's not a road Käpu'n, it's a river."

Käpu'n gave Andy a wry smile.

"It is no river, Andy. It was made by our fathers who built the city long ago. It drains the city and takes our waste away for us."

Suddenly the odour hanging in the air made sense to Andy. He looked at Käpu'n with a mixture of horror and disgust.

"You mean it's a sewer and you want us to walk into it?!"

"If the word sewer is what I think, yes. We will walk into it and go under the wall."

"You might, but I'm not going," Andy replied firmly.

Käpu'n fixed a steady gaze on Andy.

"Would you rather risk the guards tonight and the Priest's blade tomorrow?"

Faced with Käpu'n's logic, Andy's resistance crumbled.

"Alright then, let's go."

Käpu'n led them down the bank. Fortunately the stream was only ankle deep but the stench had Andy and a few of the others gagging. Just near the entrance to the tunnel, one of them actually fell into the slimy water. The others giggled as he struggled to his feet.

"Quiet!" Käpu'n hissed at them as loudly as he dared. "Guards are near."

Almost as one, the group went silent and crouched down trying to look as small as possible amongst the stones and rocks of the sewer. They heard footsteps on the road and the silhouette of two guards appeared at the top of the bank above them. They stopped walking and stood looking at the river, but not paying much attention.

"It's dark and it stinks here," said one to the other. "Who are we supposed to be looking for anyway?"

"I don't know," said the other. The orders just said the palace was attacked and there is a curfew in effect. Anyone seen is to be arrested and brought to the palace for interrogation."

The two stopped talking and looked around with little real interest. Andy and the others lay still in the sewer drain below. Lying so close to the ground, the stench was almost unbearable. Andy tried to block his nose and breath through his mouth, but the foul air still made him feel sick. Finally, one of the guards above them spoke.

"There is nothing here apart from a smell that will live longer than the gods. Let's go."

The two turned and walked away. One of Käpu'n's men waited a few seconds then climbed cautiously up the bank and peered over the top. After watching for a minute or so he scrambled back down.

"They have gone," he said. "We are lucky to cross our path with two of the laziest guards in the service of the priest."

Käpu'n nodded in agreement.

"Then let us be gone before any return. Follow me through the tunnel."

Käpu'n led the group forward the last dozen or so metres to the foot of the city wall where the stream flowed into a tunnel.

"We escape the city through here," Käpu'n said.

Andy looked at the black hole and shuddered.

"How far is it?" he asked Käpu'n.

"About twenty times my height," Käpu'n replied. "But it is small tunnel. You will have to crawl and hold head high as you go."

"Through that muck? You must be joking!"

Käpu'n glared at Andy.

"I never make fun of such things. I crawled through last night when I was planning your rescue. The stream was deeper then."

Andy looked around the group. They were all staring at him. They couldn't understand what was being said, but he was sure they had the gist of it and they weren't happy.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound ungrateful," he said. "Let's go, I guess."

The group walked forward and waded into the pool at the mouth of the tunnel. Andy had difficulty negotiating the slippery rocks, but it was the slimy feeling of the water itself that repulsed him. It seemed reluctant to move out of his way and clung to his legs as he waded through. The situation did not improve as they reached the tunnel. Despite its appearance it was only about a metre high, so they all had to get down and crawl. Only a short way into the tunnel, the moonlight disappeared. Confronted with total darkness Andy had to grope his way along by feel alone. Crammed in without any light or fresh air and a dozen other bodies Andy had to fight hard to control the waves of panic that were rising within him.

"It's only about thirty or forty metres. It won't take long," he told himself again and again.

Andy felt the floor of the tunnel starting to slope gently downwards and the water level rising towards his face. He tried to lift his head up a little to avoid the filth, but in doing so banged it on the ceiling.

"Oww!" he cried out. "Why is it always my head?"

Käpu'n's voice behind him was the only thing that stopped him completely loosing his composure.

"The tunnel goes down a little, but rise again. Walk like a sea creature with your face near top of the tunnel."

"Like a crab you mean?" asked Andy.

"Yes, if 'crab' is it. There is head-space between the water and the tunnel."

"This is truly disgusting Käpu'n," Andy replied.

"You are lucky water is low. It was full last night. I had to put my head under water."

Andy spent the next few minutes shuffling along, trying desperately to keep his face clear of the water. On several occasions he banged it on the ceiling of the tunnel. He tried hard to find a balance between the foul water below and the hard stone above. The last thing he wanted to do was cut himself in this filth. The effort in doing so was extreme and left him panting. Listening to the puffing and groaning around him, he knew he wasn't alone in his discomfort.

Andy was trying to guess how far they'd come when he realized that they were starting to slowly climb again. The water, which had been lapping around him at chest height, had receded and was now only occasionally touching his back. He reached up to gauge the height of the ceiling. It was well clear of his head so he turned back over onto his hands and knees. He could hear those immediately around him doing the same. A few minutes later he heard an excited voice in front of him say something in Mayan. Andy didn't need to know what the message was, its tone and the fact that the pace in front of him picked up told him the end of the tunnel was near.

Struggling to keep up with the man in front Andy nearly fell out of the end of the tunnel. In front of him men were sucking in fresh air and patting each other on the back. Käpu'n followed Andy out and sat back against a rock gasping for air. They waited quietly for the last few stragglers to appear and gather their breath, then one by one they continued along the open drain which disappeared into the jungle about a hundred metres further on.

"Come," Käpu'n said to Andy. "We go into forest to fresh water pool nearby. Our people wait for us there."

Andy followed Käpu'n along the drain until they were well into the jungle. When they reached a clearing they found Acan and his group waiting for them. After a brief discussion they headed off again further into the jungle. They walked for about an hour before stopping at a clearing where some more of Käpu'n's people were waiting.

"Go to pool over there and wash yourself." Käpu'n said. "When you clean you can return for food."

"What about my clothes?"

"Throw the clothes away. We have Spanish clothes for you."

Andy did as he was told and went down to the pool and set to cleaning himself as thoroughly as he could, using the fine sand in the riverbed as a rough soap. A short time later he was back on the waters edge and putting on the new clothes that had been given to him.

When he had finished, Käpu'n came over to him.

"Tell me how you have half of the Talisman Andy," Käpu'n asked.

"It's a long story." said Andy.

"We have time," Käpu'n said.

Chapter Twenty Three

Andy began to tell Käpu'n about how he found the Talisman and how he and Tim discovered the secrets of using it. Käpu'n was a good listener, not interrupting unless he needed to clear up some confusing aspect of the story. It took half an hour to reach the point of being in the dungeon with Käpu'n's brother.

"And that's where you come into the tale," he said.

Käpu'n nodded.

"It was good you and the children were rescued. You were going to be sacrificed by the Priest tomorrow. You and your friend did well to discover how to use Talisman. Many have tried to do what you did. Most have failed."

"What else do you know?" Andy asked.

Käpu'n thought for a few seconds, trying to find the correct English to use.

"There is one more thing that we have heard of but have not seen," he said hesitantly.

"What is it?"

"Your 'key' will keep you here if Talisman is taken from you. But, if Talisman's time is changed and then key is taken from you, you will be destroyed."

Andy thought about what Käpu'n had said for a minute.

"Käpu'n, how do you know so much about the Talisman and why is it that you can speak English?"

"I think it is my turn to be storyteller. Two questions can be answered at one time."

Käpu'n leaned back against a tree and made himself comfortable. He sat and composed his thoughts for a few seconds, then started telling Andy his story.

"Two summers ago I was captured by a group of Spanish sailors who had come inland looking for fresh water. They took me to their ship where I was put in a cage with other people. We were to be sold as slaves."

Käpu'n had only just started his tale, when a member of his group came over to offer them food. His story was forgotten for a few minutes, while he and Andy ate. They were ravenous. Neither of them could remember when they'd last eaten.

Andy was wary of the Mayan food, but was pleasantly surprised to find it was quite tasty. When they'd finished, Käpu'n continued.

After several days of hunger and thirst, the Spanish ship was attacked by an English warship. Those slaves who had not been killed in the battle were given the option of staying with the sinking Spanish ship or going with the English to work as crew.

Käpu'n made the best of a bad situation and joined the English. After several months on board the English Man of War, he'd become a skilled and popular member of the crew. It was during this time he learned to understand and speak passable English.

The ship and its crew cruised the Caribbean Sea, chasing and attacking the Spanish ships wherever they met them.

Käpu'n's luck ran out again when his ship was caught in a hurricane and was smashed upon the coast of Central America. Only Käpu'n and a few of his crew mates survived. Käpu'n decided to trek south towards his Mayan homeland, whilst his crewmates headed north hoping to find an English settlement. By the time a sick and half-starving Käpu'n returned home, he'd been gone for over a year.

While he had been away, a plague swept through the city, killing thousands, including the king and most of the royal family.

The royal High Priest and his followers had locked themselves away in the temple to avoid the plague. When the sickness had passed, the High Priest took advantage of the situation to take the king's place as ruler.

Something needed to be done about the Spanish who had conquered South America and who now threatened the city. In the ancient records held in the city temple the Priest had read of an ancient Talisman. It was said to be hidden in the tomb of a Mayan king in one of the old cities to the south, which had been abandoned and lost to the jungle.

The legends told of a Talisman that allowed those who wore it to travel back and forward in time. The Priest believed he could use the Talisman to rid them of the Spanish.

Several groups were sent in search of the Talisman. Käpu'n's adventures had made him a hero, so he was made one of the leaders. As they went south, they were constantly harassed by the Spanish. One group was captured and tortured, and eventually told them about the Talisman.

After great pain and struggle Käpu'n's group found the ruins of the lost city hidden in the jungle. In the heart of a great pyramid they discovered the dead king with the Talisman around his neck.

Looking around the king's tomb they found some scrolls. The first part of the scrolls told the story of how the ancient Mayans had tried to use the Talisman to gain power. The end came when a time traveler returned carrying a plague that caused massive famine and death. Their civilization collapsed and the people fled. Those who stayed put the Talisman and the scrolls in the tomb with the king and left a warning not to use it.

There was an older section of the scrolls that appeared to be about the Talisman and how to work it. Käpu'n considered this information to be as important as the Talisman itself.

Given the dangers of using the Talisman, Käpu'n's and his comrades considered leaving the Talisman where it was and saying they had never found it, but they knew the Spanish would eventually discover the city. Not wanting the Talisman, or the instructions on how to use it contained in the scrolls, to fall into the hands of the invaders, they decided to return home with it and persuade the Priest to seek a new place to hide it.

Käpu'n's party split into three groups for the journey home, two carrying one half of the Talisman each and the third carrying the scrolls. The trip was a disaster. The Spanish captured the group with the scrolls and the group carrying the back-travel half of the Talisman disappeared without a trace.

When they finally returned to the city they found the High Priest had declared the plague was the act of vengeful gods and ordered human sacrifices to appease them. The remaining members of the royal family, and anyone loyal to them, were the first to go.

With no-one to oppose him the High Priest ruled mercilessly. He used fear and hunger to control the population. Loyalty was paid for with food and his law was brutally enforced.

On discovering what the High Priest had done in their absence, Käpu'n and his comrades knew that they had made a terrible mistake returning with something as powerful as the Talisman. Fearful for their lives, they presented the remaining, forward travel, half of the Talisman to the High Priest, knowing it was useless without an item from the future to activate it.

They did not get a hero's welcome. Instead, the High Priest flew into an uncontrollable rage over the loss of half the Talisman and the scrolls. He ordered the families of those who failed to return to be sacrificed, while Käpu'n and his friends fled the city, certain that his wrath would eventually be turned upon them.

In the months following, he had the forward half of the Talisman secured in a special vault, under heavy guard. His men captured and tortured as many Spaniards as possible for information about the missing half of the Talisman and the scrolls. They found out nothing about the other half of the Talisman, but they did establish that the Spaniards were preparing to send the scrolls back to Spain for further examination.

Finally, he created his own religious sect, charged with fanning out through the known world to find and return the missing items.

Käpu'n stopped talking for a minute then continued...

"We learned about the capture of you and the Talisman through a junior priest we caught in the jungle. The Priest said, 'He was going to a feast to rejoice the two halves of the Talisman being together again.' Our people in the palace poisoned as much food and drink as we could. When they fell ill, I entered the dungeon to rescue you and the children while my people attacked the palace to get the Talisman. Sadly, the High Priest and many of his guards were not ill. We won a victory but lost many brave people.

"The group with me has made their own blood oath to fight the evil Priest. We now need the scrolls from the Spanish. If we could unite the halves and learn their secrets from the scrolls, we may find how to destroy it."

Both Andy and Käpu'n were silent for a time, lost in their own thoughts. Andy spoke first.

"You say the group carrying my half of the Talisman went missing?"

"Yes."

"So how did it come to me?"

Käpu'n shook his head.

"I do not know."

Andy was silent again. He was hoping Käpu'n would tell him, or at least give him something that would explain how he got entangled in this mess.

"So what do we do now Käpu'n?"

Käpu'n didn't answer at first. He turned and spoke to a young man who was waiting nearby.

"It is time now. Go and get the others."

The young man nodded and went off to fetch the other members of the group. Käpu'n turned back to Andy.

"Andy, have you anything from your time that will not rot away?"

Andy thought for a second then, got up and ran over to his trousers which he'd discarded. Gingerly he felt through the filthy pocket and found what he was looking for.

"Here it is!" he shouted to Käpu'n. "I'm amazed it's still here."

He walked back to Käpu'n with his hand held open displaying a coin. Käpu'n picked it out of Andy's hand and smiled.

"Very good Andy," he said as he studied the coin. "Who is this man?"

"Don't know," said Andy. "Let's have a closer look."

Andy studied the coin for a few seconds.

"King George? Bugger! This is from 1936. Archie gave me some spending money the day I was captured in London."

"I will take it," said Käpu'n. "Do you have something from your time?"

Andy looked back over at his ruined clothes lying on the ground.

"My clothes will rot away," he said almost to himself. "Hang on! Give me your knife."

Käpu'n gave Andy his knife. Andy went back to the jeans and began to cut off the brass button above the fly. When he'd finished with the jeans he returned to Käpu'n and handed him the knife and the button.

"Why do you want them?" he asked.

"I can use them to come to your time and see you when the time is right."

"When will that be?" asked Andy.

Käpu'n didn't get a chance to reply, as Acan arrived with the rest of the group. Andy noticed he had both halves of the Talisman in his hand, which he gave to Käpu'n.

"We will not keep the two together. The Priest will chase us and we will have to move on to avoid capture. We will send you back to your time Andy. Put Talisman on and take the gold thing off."

Andy felt the thin band around his neck and gave it a gentle tug. He'd almost forgotten it was there.

"The Priest's men put it on you." said Käpu'n. "It is keeping you in our time. Did you not know it was there?"

"No. There has been so much going on and I must have got used to wearing it."

Käpu'n was still chuckling as he handed Andy's half of the Talisman back to him.

"Take this Andy, and I will take that thing from your neck. You will travel back to the time you left from. We will leave here and chase the Spaniards for the scrolls. We will learn from them, and I will come back for you. Then we destroy the Talisman."

Andy was still annoyed by not realising the band was around his neck, but he listened to Käpu'n's plan and thought it was a good one. He stopped to look at Käpu'n and his people.

"I don't know what to say Käpu'n. I got myself into this mess and you and your people have got me out of it. As you said before, a lot of people have paid for it. I feel really bad."

"What is happening now and in your time is not about you or me Andy. There will be many people from other times in this story. If not, history will be broken and you would not be here. Do not feel bad. The Talisman takes us where it wants us to go."

Käpu'n stopped talking and stepped behind Andy. He struggled with the catch for a few moments, and then flicked the clasp open on the gold collar. Before Andy could say goodbye he was gone.

Chapter Twenty Four

The little jeweller was in the back room of the shop making dinner for himself and the huge man who was his guest. Archie had left over a day earlier, but Charlie and his crew had stayed. After night had fallen, an old delivery van arrived and the two bodies were removed.

The men and the jeweller then set to removing any trace of the fight that had occurred in the back of the shop. They rolled up the bloodied rug and threw it in the van. The wooden floor boards were washed and Charlie produced a new rug for which he charged the jeweller a massively inflated price. Charlie left with the van, but not before going into serious detail with the jeweller about what they would do to him if he failed to honour their agreement.

The little man had no intention of doing so. Charlie and his heavies were the lesser of two evils. He was glad to be rid of the sect.

The jeweller and his guest sat down to their dinner. The big man smiled at the contents of the plate.

"Bacon and eggs," he said as he picked up his knife and fork. "This is a real treat. Ta very much."

The two settled into their meal. The big man had been there for most of the day. Charlie had promised him that someone else would arrive to replace him the next morning.

"I'll be quite happy to stay on if Charlie wants," the man said, spitting food as he spoke. "You're a better cook than my ol' lady."

The jeweller smiled. He was getting on well with the big man. He'd been living alone since his mother died and was glad of the company.

"I though we might have a glass of wine after dinner," he said.

"I'd rather have a beer, myself, but I'll drink your wine if you in..."

The sentence hung in mid-air unfinished. The jeweller looked up from his meal and saw the big man frozen, with a fork-full of food half way between his plate and his mouth. The blood was draining from his face.

"What on earth is the matter?" asked the jeweller.

"Bloody hell!" replied the big man staring past the jeweller.

The jeweller was about to repeat the question but he sensed someone was behind him. He jumped as a voice addressed them both.

"Hey, can one of you two get a hold of Archie or Charlie for me?"

Chapter Twenty Five

"Yes he's fine. He's had some bacon and eggs and a cup of tea. What's that? Right you are then. I'll expect you in the morning."

The jeweller hung up the phone and turned back to the table. Andy was finishing off the last of his meal and was on his third cup of tea. The big man was sitting across the table staring at Andy as if he were a ghost.

"Bloody hell," he said, as he stared at Andy.

The jeweller sat down and reached over to his bottle of wine. It was empty. He looked over to the big man whose hand was shaking as he downed his glass in a single gulp.

"Bloody hell," he said again, not taking his eyes off Andy.

The jeweller leaned over to Andy.

"Mr Spencer-Brown's man, Mr Stephens, will be here in the morning to collect you," he said.

"Thanks," Andy said, as he wolfed down his food.

"Bloody hell," the big man said for the fourth time.

"Would you please stop using that language in my home!" the jeweller snapped.

"You didn't see it though did you? He just appeared like that!" the big man said as he snapped his fingers in the air. "One second I'm lookin' at the wall an' the next I'm bloomin' starin' at 'im."

"Yes I know. I got a shock as well, but could you please tone down the language all the same?"

"Alright but...."

There was a thunk as Andy's head hit the table.

"God Almighty, has 'e passed out?"

The jeweller checked Andy, more than a little concerned by his rapid slip into unconsciousness.

"No, he's just fallen asleep."

The big man leaned forward and peered at Andy.

"Never seen anyone drop into their meal like that without 'aving too much to drink," he said.

"Well you've probably never met anyone who's travelled for three hundred-odd years to have dinner with you, either," the jeweller replied. "Pick him up for me, and put him on the settee will you? I'll get a pillow and rug."

Chapter Twenty Six

The weather was damp and miserable as Stephens and Andy drove out of London. Andy was in a foul mood as he leaned against his door watching the droplets of rain sliding down the window. He was annoyed that Archie hadn't made the effort to come himself, especially since Andy thought he was more or less responsible for his kidnapping in the first place.

"Master Archie was beside himself with joy to hear you had returned." Stephens said, trying to lighten the mood. "He's looking forward to seeing you."

Andy snorted sarcastically.

"Well the least he could have done was come here to pick me up and apologise himself."

"Oh I think you'll get an apology all right," Stephens replied. "I also believe you'll find Master Archie has undergone somewhat of a transformation of character over the past two days."

"He shouldn't have left me alone in that dodgy part of town!" Andy snapped back.

"He knows that," Stephens replied gently. "To be fair Master Andy, he had a terrible choice to make. You were lost in the midst of time and there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted to stay and wait for you but the clock is ticking to rescue his brother, so there was no other option but to carry on. There was nothing else could he do."

Andy knew Stephens was right, but he was still angry. He sat leaning on the door and watched two more droplets race down to the bottom of the window. He bet to himself the one on the right would win. It stopped and the left one streaked on to victory.

"Typical!" he thought.

The trip carried on in relative silence until they stopped for petrol and a meal. Stephens was good company during the meal, telling Andy stories about his childhood and his escapades with Archie as younger men. Despite his best efforts to sulk his bad mood slipped away.

It was after dark when they arrived home. Andy found his stomach turning to a knot as they pulled up outside Archie's cottage.

Stephens had barely switched off the Riley's engine when Archie came bounding out and made straight for Andy's door. Andy got out of the car a little awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. The spiteful things he'd been rehearsing in his head seemed to be ducking for cover.

"Hi Archie," he said rather lamely as Archie grabbed him in a massive bear hug.

Andy felt uncomfortable because he was not used to being hugged, especially by a man. Archie finally let him go, then looked him in the eye.

"Andy, I am truly sorry for leaving you in the car and for what has happened to you."

"I know you are. Stephens told me. You shouldn't have left me in the car; but I'm back now, so I guess what's done is done."

"Do you still want to come with me to rescue Ed?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Excellent! The preparations are complete so all we have to do is travel down to Croydon tomorrow and we're for the off at 6.00am the next day. I've got your flying suit waiting for you in the house. Want to see it?"

"Yeah, let's have a look."

"Good man!" said Archie, patting Andy on the back as they walked into the cottage.

Stephens went to the back of the car and got some bags out of the trunk. As he was slamming the lid he got the uneasy feeling he was being watched. He stood still and listened, peering into the shadows. Nothing moved, but the feeling of unease would not go away.

"I think Master Archie and I will best be sleeping with our guns tonight. I'll call the house and get them to let the dogs out," he said to himself loudly enough so that anyone near would hear.

Casting one final gaze around him Stephens turned and trudged in through the door. A pair of eyes in the bushes nearby watched him go in. The watcher shivered in the cold as he heard Stephens lock the front door.

"This is a waste of time and too dangerous." he thought to himself.

He'd heard that a senior sect member knew Archie's father through business dealings. Perhaps an approach to the old man would get more information than freezing in some bushes on a cold night.

He wrapped his black robe around him to make himself comfortable and strained to hear anything coming from the cottage. His concentration was broken a few minutes later by the noise of dogs barking and someone walking down the shingle drive from the manor house.

He cursed Stephens and quietly slipped away.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Andy was not a happy person. It was 6.00 a.m and he was strapped into the back seat of a bright red De Havilland Comet. The engines were idling as Archie was going through the last of his checks. Stephens and the aircraft's chief mechanic were standing nearby. Andy could see they both looked worried. Beyond them he couldn't see much at all because of the thick misty fog covering Croydon airfield.

"Are you really sure you can't wait any longer, Sir?" Stephens shouted over the roar of the engines. "I'm sure the sun will burn off this fog later in the morning."

Archie didn't bother to look up from what he was doing.

"You know as well as I do, Stephens, that we must make Baghdad before dark. We can't delay any longer. Anyway, there are hundreds of acres of grass in front of us. We'll be airborne well before the fence!"

"I'm with Mr Stephens here," the mechanic said. "If you want my op....."

"No, I don't want your opinion!" Archie snapped back at him." Goodbye, Stephens, I'll send you a telegram from Baghdad."

Stephens knew it was hopeless to argue. He took a few steps back and motioned to the mechanic to do the same.

"Goodbye, Sir. Goodbye, Andy," he said as he waved.

Andy waved meekly back.

"Bye."

The canopy closed around them with a thunk, but the rumbling noise of the engines remained much the same. They almost sounded annoyed at being woken and dragged out into the cold at such a rude hour.

"All set, Andy?" Archie yelled over his shoulder.

"Yes, I s'pose so," Andy yelled back. "How are you going to see in this fog?"

"Even if the weather was good I can't see past the nose of this old crate until her tail comes up. We'll have travelled several hundred yards by then. A few hundred more and we'll be up and away."

It sounded simple, but Andy was still worried. He pulled the coin necklace out from under his flying suit. If looked like they were about to crash he would yank it off and return home. If he had time that is.

Archie held the brakes on and pushed the throttles forward as far as they would go. The engines roared and the Comet started to vibrate. A few seconds later he let the brakes off and the plane slowly gathered momentum.

As Archie had mentioned to Andy, the Comet was fully loaded with fuel and equipment as well as its human cargo. What he hadn't told him was that when carrying such a load they would need every foot of room Croydon airfield could give them.

Archie spoke to the plane, encouraging it to become airborne.

"Come on old girl, more speed. Come on."

As the Comet picked up speed Archie pushed the control column forward to lift the tail up which gave him some vision over the nose and more control. He praised the plane as the tail responded.

"That's it, good girl. Now, a little more speed and we'll get you off the ground."

The noise and vibration in the cockpit was terrible. The engines were straining as the wheels rumbled along refusing to give up contact with the ground. The perimeter fence of the airfield was rushing towards them even though they couldn't see it. The seconds ticked by and the Comet stubbornly refused to fly. Archie was starting to think about closing the throttles and braking as hard as he dared when they hit a lump in the field. The Comet bounced for a second then settled back to earth. Another longer bounce finally set them free, climbing slowly into the mist.

"Thank God!" Archie said quietly to himself.

Looking out his window Andy saw the shapes of houses rushing past under them, not a dozen feet below.

Archie kept the Comet climbing hard for several minutes, then when he was sure they had enough height he turned south-east towards the English Channel and levelled out. The engines settled into a rhythmic drone as he pulled the throttles back.

He had to concentrate hard on his instruments to avoid becoming disoriented in the fog and diving into the ground. He also had to monitor the engines and navigate using a compass, a stopwatch and his air-speed indicator. Andy sat quietly behind Archie. Stephens had spoken to him about not interrupting at critical times and this seemed to be one of them.

The thick fog surrounding them was slowly turning from dark grey to an intense crimson white forcing Andy to put on his sunglasses. Not long after, he saw wisps of yellowy-red which became larger as they burst out of the clouds into a brilliant sunrise.

Andy looked around, amazed at the view surrounding him. The sunrise was reflecting on the sea below them like a million shining jewels. He could see large merchant ships lumbering along with smoke rising from their funnels. Dozens of smaller vessels, which he took to be fishing boats, were scattered over the ocean. Squinting ahead Andy could see the silhouette of the French coastline. Beyond that the countryside was obscured in the morning haze.

"We're over the English Channel," Archie yelled over his shoulder. "That's France ahead of us. We'll be over the Normandy area in a few minutes!"

The coast of France passed beneath them. He watched the farms and villages slide by, noticing the occasional vehicle and quite a few carts and ploughs being drawn by horses. The weather was calm and the sky clear. Andy was really enjoying himself.

After a couple of hours Archie called for something to eat. Andy passed over a thermos flask of hot coffee and then a sandwich. The plane jiggled a little as Archie struggled between food and flying. Andy had a coffee and a sandwich himself.

As he sipped, he saw something in the distance off to his left. It was still many miles away but its huge silver cigar shape was unmistakable. He leaned forward and tapped Archie on the shoulder.

"Archie, is that what I think it is?"

Archie who'd been concentrating on flying, navigating, eating and drinking looked over to where Andy was pointing.

"By God!" he said. "Look at that! Do you know what it is Andy?"

Archie turned towards the huge silver flying machine dominating the sky in front of them. They could see a cabin protruding below it and two pods along each side with propellers spinning behind them. At the back were four fins, two horizontal and two vertical. The fins were red with huge swastikas painted on them. It kept getting bigger and bigger as they got closer.

"It's an airship isn't it?" Andy asked.

"Yes," replied Archie. "It's the Hindenburg. We're very lucky to have seen it. I don't think the Frenchies will be very happy about these Nazi Huns flying about their skies like they own them."

They flew towards the airship until it filled the sky in front of them. Just when Andy thought they would collide with it, Archie banked the aircraft and flew along its entire length from nose to stern.

They were close enough to see through the windows. The passengers seemed thrilled to catch sight of the Comet and rushed to wave. The crew seemed less pleased to see them and used various gestures to prove their point.

"Typical!" Archie shouted. "Bloody Huns think they own the sky!"

"We were flying a bit close," Andy said.

"That wasn't close," Archie said in disgust. "During the war we used to fly so near to the Hun's airships you could spit at them."

They flew on southeast and the airship disappeared behind them. Shortly after, Andy noticed a mountain range rising to meet them. Archie started a gentle climb as the foothills got steeper and grew into mountains. The scenery below was a stunning mixture of lush green farm land, villages and forests.

"We're over Switzerland now," shouted Archie. "We'll have to climb a bit to get over the Alps, and then we'll drop down into northern Italy near San Marino. We'll go down the east coast of Italy by the Adriatic Sea and when we're just north of Bari in southern Italy we'll cross over to Kerkya in Greece. From there we'll follow the coastline of Greece, then cross the Aegean Sea to Rhodes Island. Then we'll cross the Mediterranean Sea to Cyprus. After that it's on to the Levant States where it'll be a hop skip and a jump to Baghdad. How does that sound?"

"Long," said Andy.

Archie didn't get time to respond. Without warning the Comet dipped a wing and fell from the sky.

Chapter Twenty Eight

"Turbulence!" Archie shouted as he pulled back on the control column to stop the plane falling.

Andy grabbed for whatever he could hang on to as the Comet started bucking and jumping over the sky like a rodeo bull. Andy could see Archie was doing his best to regain control, but suspected he was not winning the fight. He looked out the window and saw the wings flexing up and down so much he wondered how far they could bend before they broke off. He tried to reach inside his flying suit to get to the coin hanging round his neck, but their wild ride made it impossible. Then without warning the bucking stopped and the Comet sailed on into smooth air.

"Phew!" Archie said. "That was as bad as I've ever seen. A lesser plane would have fallen apart. I think we're going to get a lot more of this Andy, so strap yourself up and secure anything loose back there."

The wide valley they had been flying up had become considerably narrower. They were now in the middle of a snow-covered mountain range heading for a gap between two peaks about twenty miles away. Looking at the terrain below him there was no sign of civilisation, just steep, craggy outcrops and the odd river tumbling down towards the valley below.

"Not a good place for anything to go wrong," he thought.

What made him more nervous was the sky they were heading towards was turning to an angry looking dirty grey colour. Archie yelled over his shoulder.

"The weather's looking pretty bad up there. We can't climb over it or go round it, so we'll have to aim for the gap at the head of the valley. Once we're on the southern side of the Alps the land falls away towards Italy. It will be quite rough I'm afraid."

"Can't we go back?" Andy called.

"No, I wish we could but the weather has closed in behind us as well. We don't have a choice now."

Archie was right. Andy hadn't noticed, but clouds were pouring over the tops of the mountains on both sides of the valley. The scene looked beautiful and terrifying at the same time. He decided to get the coin necklace out of his flying suit and have it ready to avoid fumbling for it like before.

Andy heard the note of the engines change and felt the Comet's nose rise as Archie tried to claw some more height before they reached the head of the valley.

"I'm trying to gain a couple of thousand extra feet over the top of this pass to give us a bit of height to manoeuvre. It's going to get pretty rough so hang on."

Andy didn't say anything. He felt helpless in the back of the Comet.

"At least I can ditch the 'key' and disappear if things go too bad," he thought. "Poor old Archie's got nothing."

They flew on up the valley as the clouds loomed larger by the second, dwarfing the mountains they were rolling over They looked to Andy like a huge surf break about to crash upon a beach. The Comet began to buffet and shake as the ground disappeared and the sky above turned from grey to black. Andy could see Archie was already wrestling with the controls to keep straight and level.

"It's not so bad after..."

Andy never got time to finish his sentence as the Comet leapt. He clenched the 'key' in his hand as his stomach churned in fear.

"Not yet, we're going up not down," he told himself.

The roar of the engines was instantly erased by a thunderous hammering all over the aircraft. Archie and Andy ducked instinctively. The Comet was being pelted by hail stones.

"She won't take much of this, we'll have to go down!" yelled Archie.

Andy could barely hear him over the din of the hail.

"But the mountains!" he cried back.

"The pass should be several miles behind us by now. If we descend carefully, hopefully we'll pop out below the clouds."

Andy didn't say anything. He knew that going down in zero visibility would normally be total madness, but the Comet would soon be torn apart by the storm if they stayed up where they were.

Archie started descending slowly downwards. They both peered into the gloom ahead, straining to see a break in the clouds. The hail that had been hammering the Comet receded then stopped and the fierce winds that had been throwing them about slackened. They flew on, descending as they went, with the occasional vicious jolt to remind them the storm had not let them escape just yet.

Archie levelled the Comet out.

"We can't go down any further." he yelled. "The altimeter is reading about the same height as some of the peaks around the pass."

The clouds around them had lightened a little, but visibility was still practically nothing. Something caught Andy's eye and he turned to see a rocky outcrop shoot past their right wing.

"Archie. I saw some rocks just off our right wing. We must be close to a mountain!"

"I know. I saw them as well. It's the ones in front I can't see that I'm worried about!"

Andy craned to see over Archie's shoulder. They were charging through the clouds almost totally oblivious to what was in front of them. Just to their left they saw a break in the clouds. Instinctively, Archie turned towards it.

It was the wrong thing to do.

As soon as they aimed at the gap they realised its dark colour was the massive stone face of a mountainside.

"Hells bells!" Archie cursed as he threw the plane into a steep turn.

"This is it," thought Andy. "I'm out of here."

He was all set to remove the 'key', but as Archie wrenched the Comet around in a desperate turn, Andy's arms went heavy and he fell back into his seat. Pinned helplessly by the force of the turn he watched the rock wall flash by his cockpit window.

"Watch the compass and tell me when we're heading nor-west," Archie yelled.

The Comet had two compasses, one of which was located next to Andy's right thigh. He tried to read it, but the wild ride made it almost impossible to focus on the dial.

"Did you hear me?" Archie roared at him. "Tell me when we get to nor-west; 315 on the dial!"

"I'm trying," Andy snapped back. "But it's not easy!"

"I bloody know that, but if you don't give me the bearing we came from we'll fly into one of these bloody mountains!"

As the Comet settled into its turn, some of the compass's more wild gyrations stopped and he managed to read the dial.

"Right," he called. "I can see it now. 290, 300."

Archie began to carefully level the plane out of its turn.

"310, 315! That's it, we're heading 315!"

They were flying straight and level back where they came from; away from the rock face they so nearly hit. Archie called out to Andy over his shoulder.

"I'm sure we're over the Alps. They head southwards out to northern Italy. We can't go up because the storm will tear us to bits. We can't go back southeast, or we'll hit a mountain. The weather is better, so I'm sure there is clear air below us. I'm going to fly back for a minute or so then we'll go into a tight spiral turn and descend slowly downwards. Alright?"

"OK," Andy replied, although he didn't think they had a choice.

A few seconds later Archie pulled the Comet into another steep turn and began to slowly corkscrew downwards. Once again Andy reached for the Talisman 'key'. This time he slipped his hand inside the cord. Watching the instruments around him, he could tell when they completed a full circle from the compass. Andy had to admit that for all his obnoxious and loud-mouthed behaviour, Archie knew how to fly a plane.

After a few minutes the ride became smoother and the clouds started to break up a little. Andy got the occasional glimpse of the mountains outside the cockpit. They were still disturbingly close. It seemed like they'd been in this turn for an age and it was causing his stomach to churn up inside him. He saw a screwed up lunch bag on the floor of the cockpit, but he couldn't reach it without undoing his harnesses. He thought about it briefly, but then remembered the smack in the head he got in Ed's plane so he gave up and tried to breath deeply instead.

Another few minutes passed with the battle of Andy verses his stomach going in favour of the stomach when suddenly Archie shouted;

"Marvellous!"

They had broken through the bottom of the clouds and were flying in a narrow valley surrounded by steep mountains. Archie levelled the plane out and flew down the valley. Visibility was much better, but there was still a lot of broken cloud around to obscure their vision. Archie looked out of the cockpit to the river below and noticed it tumbling down the valley.

They followed the river keeping a wary eye on the clouds, which seemed intent on herding them into a rock wall. More than once Andy couldn't help screaming 'look out' and Archie would curse, throwing the Comet into a violent turn to avoid being smashed to pieces.

Archie reduced speed as much as he could to avoid a collision, while still maintaining adequate control of the plane. Very slowly they made their way down the valley. As the mountains receded and gave way to forests they left the storm behind. The dark grey clouds became dirty white and then began to break up.

After another hour or so they were out over the plains of northern Italy streaking towards the Aegean Sea. To their right they could see Lake Como and in the distance the city of Milano. For the first time in many hours they saw the sun and its warmth lifted their spirits.

"I think I'll have another coffee if you don't mind," Archie said.

"Very good Sir," said Andy mimicking Stephens as he reached down for the thermos flask.

As they flew down the coast Archie pointed out the city of San Marino and then the sights of eastern Italy as they raced along at 200 miles per hour. He gave Andy some flying lessons, coaching him in the use of the controls. Much to their delight he proved to be a natural, keeping the Comet level and maintaining their course with the occasional correction from Archie. After a while Archie felt comfortable enough to takes his hands away from the column and have a rest.

"Tell me about the future," he said to Andy has he relaxed in the front seat.

"No!" Andy said.

"Oh come on, why not?"

"Because last time, I let slip about Lovelock and Owens at the Olympics you rushed off to make a bet and left me behind to get kidnapped! Remember that?"

"Yes," said Archie sheepishly.

The topic was dropped as they sighted the city of Bari on the south-eastern coast of Italy. Archie calculated their fuel use and the time they'd been airborne. He wasn't happy.

"That storm over the Alps has cost us dearly. We should be over Greece by now. Baghdad is not looking good!"

Andy didn't reply. Part of him was enjoying cruising over places he'd only ever heard about, but the other half was totally sick of being cooped up in the tiny cockpit of the Comet. The thought of landing sooner rather than later was becoming more appealing by the minute.

They left Italy behind and cruised out over the Adriatic Sea. The twinkling of the afternoon sun on the ocean was almost hypnotic. It made Andy feel quite drowsy. When he woke up they'd crossed the Adriatic and were over Greece.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked Archie.

"Not too sure really, but you haven't replied to me for over two hours."

Andy was a little embarrassed.

"Sorry about that."

Archie shook his head.

"No, that's quite alright. We must take turns at resting. Hand me a coffee and a sandwich will you, then you can look after the old girl while I have a rest."

Andy passed some luke-warm coffee and a mangy looking sandwich over to Archie who took them gratefully and let Andy take over.

"You have control now Andy. Just keep her straight and level on the horizon and watch your height and compass heading."

Andy felt a surge of exhilaration as he took control of the Comet. He was amazed at how little force it took to make the plane move to his command. The Comet danced a little causing Archie to spill a little coffee.

"Steady on there Biggles!" he teased. "Try to have a softer touch. The plane knows how to fly better than you do. Just relax and guide it along."

Andy did as he was told and the Comet settled back into a steady cruise.

"That's it. We'll make you an aviator yet," said Archie.

As the world slipped by under their wings, Andy sat in the back of the Comet feeling like the king of the world.

"This is what I want to do," he thought to himself. "I'm going to fly planes."

They'd been airborne well over nine hours. Athens then mainland Greece itself passed by, before disappearing behind them as they flew out into the Mediterranean Ocean. At first there were dozens if not hundreds of islands, but as they made their way steadily east the ocean grew bigger and more intimidating. Andy looked around and could only see a smudge of land off his left wing to the north. He suddenly felt very small and vulnerable.

"How far to go now?" he asked Archie.

There was no reply from the front seat.

"Archie! How much longer is it?"

Still no reply. Andy looked at Archie. He could see Archie's head had rolled back and his mouth was open. He was sound asleep!

"ARCHIE!" he yelled.

Archie's head shot up.

"What is it?" He asked trying to collect his senses. "By God! I must have fallen asleep. Where are we?"

"How would I know? You're the navigator."

"When did I last talk to you then?" Archie asked.

"You pointed out Athens to me about an hour ago."

Archie looked at his watch, then all of the instruments in front of him. He saw the murky outline of an island off to the northeast. Andy had done a good job of maintaining their speed and height, but he'd let the Comet wander south from where they should have been.

"We should be over the island of Kos by now but that one ahead of us is far too big. I think it's Rhodes. Keep her steady while I check will you."

Andy flew as smoothly as he could whilst Archie held an archaic looking device up to his eye and pointed it at the sun.

"What's that weird looking thing you've got?"

"It's a sextant," said Archie. "It uses the position of the sun, or the stars at night, to plot our position. Have you never seen one?"

"No, but I've heard of them. Is it very accurate?"

"If it's used properly, but it's hard when one is bouncing around the sky."

"I'm sorry," Andy said. "I'm doing my best."

"I know. Just give me a few more minutes and I'll be able to take control from you."

Andy flew on while Archie fussed over his charts and scribbled calculations down with a pencil. When he was finished he pointed to the island ahead which was growing bigger by the minute.

"It's as I thought Andy. We've been pushed south of Kos by a northerly wind and that island ahead of us is Rhodes. If we turn to a due east bearing and keep accounting for this damned wind we should fly very near the RAF base at Nikosia on Cyprus."

"I thought we were going all the way to Baghdad?"

"That was the intention, but with the time we lost in the storm and this rather large detour we've taken, our fuel will be low and our daylight gone. I'd rather stay the night in a RAF base than in the desert, wouldn't you?"

The island of Rhodes disappeared behind them. All that lay ahead was the deep blue Mediterranean Sea. Andy looked for a sign of land, but he couldn't see one and it made him uncomfortable. He wondered how long the Comet's engines could keep going and listened for any unusual noises. The engines replied with their defiant rumbling song.

Archie's spirits had picked up after his snooze. He sang songs and recited poems to Andy; some good, same bad, some rude but mostly funny. Andy was impressed at the volume of otherwise useless information in Archie's head and told him so. Archie laughed.

"My father has made the same observation!" he said.

After a while they tried to kill time with a game of 'I Spy', but after the words 'sea', 'waves', 'sky' and 'clouds' had been used the game fell flat for lack of anything else to spy. Fortunately, Cyprus loomed out of the ocean ahead of them. Archie searched for a landmark.

"Excellent!" Archie said. "We're on track. Nikosia is about 20 – 30 miles inland. At this rate we'll be landing very soon."

This was good news for Andy. They'd been in the air for nearly twelve hours and he was longing to get out of the Comet.

A little over ten minutes later they sighted the RAF Airfield at Nikosia. Just beyond that was the city itself. Archie pushed the control column forward and they descended towards the airfield.

"Are we allowed to land here?" asked Andy.

"Yes, but because we've got no wireless, we'll do a couple of fly-bys to get their attention."

Archie opened the throttles and pointed the Comet towards the buildings at the far end of the airfield. They raced across the airfield less than fifty feet off the ground at nearly two hundred miles per hour. A neat row of little military planes and two bigger aircraft flitted by underneath them like fence posts. People milling around on the ground looked up in surprise at the sudden arrival of the Comet.

They were so low that one man riding a bicycle threw himself onto the ground as they flew over. Archie thought it was hilarious.

"Ha! Now that's funny!" he said, as he looked over his shoulder at the man picking himself up.

As the buildings grew larger in front of them Andy realised that they were below roof height.

"Archie! The buildings!" he yelled.

Archie was still peering at the man on the bike.

"Hells bells!" he said as he yanked the control column back on the Comet.

Chapter Twenty Nine

The Comet roared back into the sky, just clearing the roof of the hangar.

"You bloody idiot!" cried Andy. "All this way and you nearly fly us into the side of a building!"

"I know, I know," said Archie, more than a little embarrassed.

Flying a more sedate circuit around the airfield, Archie brought the Comet in on a curve and made a nicely judged touchdown. Once they had slowed down he started to zigzag towards the buildings. Andy was still upset by their near miss.

"Are you drunk or something? Why didn't you land flying straight and why are we zigzagging now?"

"Because, silly boy, when the Comet slows the tail falls and the nose rises which means I can't see a thing."

They made their way slowly towards the buildings. Not far from the other planes a man in uniform ran up to them and made a cutting gesture across his throat. Archie reduced the engines to an idle, then with a blip of the throttle he shut them down. Opening the canopy he climbed out with difficulty after twelve hours in the tiny cockpit of the plane. He spoke to the man in uniform as he stretched his aching limbs.

"I presume the cutting motion you made to me was to switch off the engines and not actually a threat eh?"

The man smiled but remained serious.

"Not me. I'd never make a threat like that to the likes of you, Sir. No need to really, because that man you scared off his bike was the station commander. He's going to cut it for you I think. Either him or missus station commander because it's her that washes and presses his uniforms."

Archie gave a weak smile.

"Oh. Who is the Station Commander nowadays?"

The man pointed over Archie's shoulder.

"You'll find out soon enough, Sir. Here he comes now."

Archie turned and looked as the station commander rounded the back of the Comet and stopped in front of them. He was a stocky pale man with a seriously big moustache. Normally he would have commanded a great deal of respect, but his dive off the bicycle had created a dusty, sweaty mess. His face was red with rage as he got off his bike and threw it to the ground. Andy decided to stay in the Comet for a few minutes to see how this played out.

"Who's the damned blasted fool that was flying this rich mans toy?" the commander roared.

Andy slunk down in the cockpit to make him inconspicuous. He looked over to Archie who was now smiling as he took his flying helmet off.

"Chalky White! I thought you would have known the only person who could manoeuvre an airplane with such finesse would be me."

"What's he doing?" thought Andy. "Now's not the time to antagonise the guy who runs the place. We'll get locked up for sure."

Archie's smart response only served to inflame the man's temper. He turned purple with rage and boomed;

"I don't care who you..."

Chalky White stopped mid-sentence as his face turned from rage to confusion and then recognition.

"Archibald Spencer-Brown! Only an arrogant fool like you would dare fly like that over my airfield."

Archie stepped down from the Comet's wing and shook the man's hand.

"Come now Chalky, it's not your airfield; it belongs to His Majesty the King."

Chalky shook Archie's hand vigorously and smiled.

"Yes, but I'm the Commanding Officer so you're bloody lucky I don't slap you and your co-pilot behind bars. Where is he by the way?"

Archie saw the top of Andy's flying hat.

"Andy! Come out boy. Chalky's an old brother in arms from the Great War. He's blown his fuse and feels better now, so it's alright"

Andy stood up and stepped over the edge of the cockpit with difficulty because his legs felt like jelly. Chalky was surprised to see him.

"By crickey Archie! He's a bit young to be your co-pilot isn't he?"

Archie was caught off guard had to think quickly.

"You are right, but he's my son you see. Never knew I even had him until recently when his mother died and he was sent to me. Well you can imagine the controversy surrounding that! The poor little chap was only just getting settled in when I had to leave on this trip so I brought him with me."

Chalky looked at Andy with concern.

"Poor little blighter," he said.

"Why do you say that?" Archie asked.

"Well, his mother's died and all he has is you for a father. Furthermore, if he keeps flying with you he'll not live long enough to see his next birthday."

The two roared with laughter as Andy walked towards them.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing really," Chalky said as he shook Andy's hand. "A pleasure to meet you Andrew Spencer-Brown."

"Spencer-Brown?" said Andy looking confused. "No, my name's..."

Archie butted in.

"I was just telling Chalky about your sudden arrival to my family and the controversy surrounding your being my son," he said, giving Andy a sly wink

"Oh, um yes. Archie, I mean dad, got a bit of a shock when I turned up."

Chalky White laughed.

"I bet he did. Well, come along with me the both of you. We'll find you somewhere to freshen up. You can have dinner with the good wife and I. How does that sound?"

"Very nice thanks Chalky," said Archie.

Chalky White turned to the man who'd spoken to Archie earlier.

"Sergeant, get some of your men to find a space in the hangar for this aircraft. Refuel it, check the oils and give it a thorough going over."

"Yes Sir, very good Sir," the sergeant said as he saluted then trotted off to get some help.

Chalky White picked up his bicycle and led Archie and Andy off towards the stations living quarters. Archie and Chalky were talking as if they'd only seen each other a few days ago. Chalky showed them to the guest quarters then left.

"You were lucky you've got a mate running the show," said Andy, sitting on the bed pulling his boots off.

"It's a bit like that in the RAF," said Archie. "It's been said it's the biggest flying club in the world."

"But you left years ago."

"Yes, but Chalky and I fought a war together. War's a terrible thing, but the friends you make in desperate times are friends for life."

Their conversation is interrupted by a knock at the door. Archie opened it and a young man passed him two small cases.

"Found these in your plane Sir. Presumed they're a change of clothes and thought you may want them. The C/O says I'm to wait outside then take you over to his house for dinner when you're ready Sir."

"Very good. We'll be about half an hour," replied Archie.

Archie closed the door and threw Andy's bag over to him.

"Come on and get changed. But I warn you. This evening we face our gravest dangers yet."

"How's that?" asked Andy a little concerned.

"Chalky's wife is an awful cook," Archie said with a wry grin.

Chapter Thirty

Stephens was taking full advantage of Archie's absence to have a well-deserved break and was relaxing on the settee with a good book and a fine whisky, when a banging at the front door shattered his peace.

He placed his book and drink on the coffee table. The banging continued as he walked to the door.

"Yes, yes. I'm coming, be patient," he called.

The thumping at the front door persisted as he opened it. Standing on the doorstep was Mr Cropp, the gamekeeper.

"Hello Croppy," Stephens said. "Why are you beating the daylights out of our door at this hour?"

Croppy looked quite worried.

"Oh, begging your pardon Mr Stephens but I've seen something today which 'as scared the pants off me. I've been by here a few times to see you or Mr Archie, but there's been no one home."

Stephens caught the tone in his voice.

"What's the matter Croppy? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You could say that," Croppy replied. "Except this one's alive and well."

"Well come on in man. Would a stiff whisky and a warm fire help get some colour back in your cheeks?"

Croppy's face brightened at the offer. Stephens took him into the sitting room and made him a drink. Croppy took a gulp of whisky and gasped as it slid down his throat.

"Blimey, that's potent stuff. Now, you know how his Lordship had some important visitor today?"

Stephens nodded as he sipped his own whisky.

"I knew something about it, but didn't know who it was," he said.

"Well 'is Lordship wanted to take this bloke shooting in the afternoon see, so an hour or so later we're out on the estate. 'Is Lordship and the guest were shooting while I'm standing next to them reloading the guns."

Stephens finished his drink and turned to make himself another. Croppy held out his empty glass which Stephens felt obligated to fill for him.

"That's all in a days work for you Croppy, but it doesn't explain why you're beating down my door so late in the evening."

"Well," said Croppy knocking back his drink. "While I'm standing next to 'is Lordship this foreign bloke starts asking about Mr Archie and what 'e's up to. 'Is Lordship says 'is fool son has run off trying to find 'is lost brother. I'm watching this foreign bloke and 'e sort of perks up when 'e hears this."

"What does he do then?" Stephens asks.

"'E starts asking his Lordship all these questions about the trip."

"What sort of questions?"

"Umm, about what plane Mr Archie is using, where they're going, what stops they are going to make. Oh, and one other question I thought was strange."

"What was that?"

"'E asks his Lordship if that's all they're looking for."

"That's all they're looking for?" Stephens said repeating the words. "Is Master Archie's brother not enough?"

"That's what is Lordship said after the foreign feller was gone. Right peeved about it 'e was. Called 'im a nosey bugger. Here's the really distrbin' thing though." Croppy added, looking grim.

"What's that?" Stephens asked.

"Well, when I handed 'im a gun I noticed 'e had a ring on the same as the one I got off that chap in the scuffle the other day."

Stephens choked on the whisky half way down his throat, then coughed and spat it up.

"You alright?" Croppy asked, whacking him on the back to help clear the blockage. "Damned shame to waste such fine whisky like that."

"Are you absolutely sure the rings were the same Croppy?" Stephens said as he wiped his face.

"Yes," Croppy said. "Or I wouldn't 'ave bothered you."

"And how much did his Lordship tell him?"

"Like I said, 'e told that feller as much as 'e knew which seemed to be a reasonable bit. I saw 'is Lordship coming out of 'ere very early the other morning when you and Mr. Archie and the boy was out."

"Cunning old fox. He must still have a key to keep tabs on us," Stephens said. "The early bird gets the worm eh."

"The early bird may get the worm," Croppy said knocking back another whisky. "But it's the second mouse that gets the cheese."

Stephens laughed.

"What on earth do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Don't rightly know," Croppy said. "It's just my standard reply to the early bird gets the worm thing. But if I was to 'ave a stab at it I'd say it means don't rush in. If it looks dangerous, let some other fool put 'is head on the line."

Stephens was impressed. Croppy had summed up his dilemma perfectly. Should he go up to the manor and talk to his Lordship about the suspicious guest. If so he would have to answer a lot of difficult questions, the answers to which may get him fired. He would much rather Archie was the one to put his head on the block, but Archie was gone. He sighed and guessed it was up to him.

Croppy had emptied his glass again and was looking at the drinks cabinet like a hungry dog.

"Croppy," Stephens said. "You stay here and look after the cottage. Enjoy a drink if you want, but not too much. I need you to keep your wits about you."

He was already at the front door getting his coat on.

"Where are you going?" Croppy asked.

"Up to the manor to speak to his Lordship. I'm going to tell him the whole story about what has been going on."

Croppy had already made his way over to the liquor cabinet and was pouring another drink.

"I don't fancy your chore," he said. "If Mr Archie 'as been up to anything then sure as the good Lord made little white lambs there'll be trouble from it. I've known 'im since 'e was a boy and if anyone can make 'is Lordship's blood boil it's 'im."

"Yes I know, but Master Archie and Andy don't know these people are now aware of their plans. If I don't convince his Lordship of the danger they're in and enlist his help, then things could take a bad turn for the worse."

"What can 'is Lordship do from here?"

Stephens stopped and pondered what Croppy had said. It was a good question.

"To be honest Croppy I don't know, but you would be surprised at the contacts the old man has and the strings he can pull when he needs to."

"Good luck then," Croppy called as Stephens made his way out the door.

It was a chilly night as Stephens crunched his way down the shingle driveway towards the manor. His mind was churning through the details. How much of the truth to tell the old man; all, some, none? Even as he banged on the service door by the kitchen he still didn't know. The old man's reactions would probably dictate how much he'd tell him. The door opened and Stephens squinted as the light flooded out from inside.

"Mr Stephens!" the maid said. "What on earth do you want to be banging on doors at this hour of the night?"

Stephens didn't wait to be invited and stepped past the maid.

"I need to talk to his Lordship Sarah," he said. "Please tell him immediately."

"His Lordship has retired to bed early Mr Stephens," she said. "I'll not raise him. It wouldn't be worth my job."

"Then find someone who has the courage to!" Stephens snapped. "Then go and make a strong pot of tea. I think we may both need it!"

Chapter Thirty One

The sergeant who Chalky White had detailed to service the Comet was sitting on a drum of fuel puffing on a cigarette as he watched Andy and Archie walking back to their accommodation from Chalky's residence after dinner.

His mate, standing nearby, was nervously eying him up.

"Do you have to smoke while you're sitting on 40-odd gallons of fuel? You'll blow us both to smithereens!"

"Stop your carping," the sergeant replied, "I've been doing it for years and there's nothing happened yet."

"Well there's always a first time for everything. Anyway, what are you going to do about those two?" his mate said nodding in the direction of Andy and Archie.

"Nothing much."

"What do you mean nothing much? They've virtually delivered the Talisman right to us, and now you just sit here smoking, waiting to get incinerated!"

The sergeant sighed, and then stubbed his cigarette out on top of one of the drums of fuel.

"Think about it," he said. "We're on a military base which is on an island. What's our chances of robbing those two and actually getting away with it?"

His mate considered the question for a few seconds.

"Not good I s'pose. How'd you know they were coming here anyway?"

Flicking his cigarette butt away, the Sergeant looked back to his friend.

"I didn't know they were stopping here. I got a coded message this morning on our radio from the sect back in England. The boss said they were flying out to the Far East or something and told to everyone to keep an eye out for them in case they showed up."

"So what are you going to do?"

The sergeant smiled as he watched Andy and Archie enter their room and close the door.

"What I'm going to do my friend, is just enough to slow them down and put them in the hands of our mates a little further down the track. Chalky, in his infinite wisdom, has detailed me to service that plane of theirs tonight. A little turn of the spanner here and a bit of mischief there will make those engines die somewhere where there are a lot more of us and a lot less of them."

"You seem pretty sure they'll end up where there's some of our blokes."

"Don't you worry about that." the Sergeant said. "Now the message is out and we know what they're up to, there won't be anywhere they can hide."

His mate didn't look so confident.

"But, if those engines die, they'll trace it back to you for sure."

"Yes, but by then I'll be long gone. The sect will pay me a reward big enough to retire for the rest of my life after I've delivered that toff and the boy into their hands."

"Which won't be long if you keep smoking over fuel drums," his mate quipped.

"That's my whole plan," the sergeant replied. "Whilst you're sweating over these dirty filthy airplanes, I'll be sunning myself on a Spanish beach, surrounded by beautiful Spanish senioritas."

"There's a revolution on in Spain right now you know."

"Yes, how silly of me," the sergeant said giving himself a theatrical slap on the forehead. "Better make it France. No, Monte Carlo! That'll do me. Now, let's go and fix that plane!"

Part Two
Chapter One.

It was just about sunrise as Andy settled himself into the rear cockpit of the Comet. The engines had already been started by the ground crew and had settled into a rumbling idle. The sun was making a spectacular entrance on the eastern horizon, bathing the sky in brilliant hues of red and yellow. None of that mattered to Andy, because Archie was directly in front of him, and he smelt awful!

"I wish you'd warn me before you do that!"

"You got a whiff of that did you? Sorry old chap, but its Chalky's wife's cooking. It's gone straight through me. I've been up half the night."

Epilogue

Archie's aroma is going to be the least of Andy's worries. The Sect is ready to meet them wherever they land, and won't hesitate to use deadly force to get the Talisman. They'll need all their cunning and skill, and the help of unexpected allies to stay on the run and rescue Archie's brother.

Käpu'n has his own problems. He and his warriors will be pushed to their physical and mental limits to hunt down the Spaniards who have the Talisman's scrolls. His only hope of success is a desperate, and possibly suicidal, plan.

In the end, they will have to cross the centuries that divide them to defeat the Sect.

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