The Price of Tomorrow: Chapter Two
Maybe it’s an Astrolabe
My weekly ongoing time travel serial.
Previously: Margaret ‘Peggy’ Montgomery has taken a strange copper sphere from the museum she works at out of fear her boss will steal it.
June 21, 2019
Miss Kansas would look exceptional straddling him. Or beneath him. Or with one leg around his waist, and the other…
Cam’s phone buzzed. He half withdrew it from his pocket. His sister’s name Ashlyn lit up the screen. He depressed the silent button and shoved it back into his coat.
A lecture could wait.
Leaning against the side of the bus, Cam watched the new tour guests as they milled around, waiting for the coach doors to open so they could climb aboard and get going for the next exciting stop on the itinerary. They were at the stage where they still clung to the friends they had arrived with. None of the sorority girls had hooked up with any of the hipster guys. The couples were all still holding hands and sighing about the romance of France. The best friends who had planned this trip since they were kids were still talking to each other. After four years and over fifty tours, he knew how it would all play out. There would be drama in Nice. Arguments in Rome. Reconciliations in Berlin, and when they all got off the bus in London, they’d all hug and promise to keep in touch, even though they wouldn’t.
Cam scanned the stark concrete expanse of the Versailles coach parking, searching for the last straggler. Margaret ‘call me Peggy’ Montgomery. Short, stick thin, with a messy brown bun and an oversized backpack, she walked with her hands tucked into the arse pockets of her jeans. She looked anywhere except where she was going. Who the hell under the age of fifty was called Peggy, anyway? She’d come on her own, which always meant trouble. The solo travellers were either stuck in their own heads or came with the hopes of hooking up. Not just hooking up, but finding someone. Hopefully, she wasn’t one of those. He wasn’t in the mood for drama.
Cam turned to the rag-tag group, cupped his hands around his mouth and, in his worst French accent, called ‘Attention! Unfortunately, lovers, it is time to bid the beautiful Chateau Versailles au revoir and make our way to our next stop. A la plage!’
The tour group moved in and formed an uneven line. Cam smiled at Miss Kansas. Miss Kansas smiled back. Cam winked. Miss Kansas blushed, then looked away as she bit her bottom lip.
‘We aren’t going to the museum?’
Cam took a steady breath as he turned to look at Peggy. He wasn’t that tall compared to most, taking after the shorter stature of his Japanese grandmother, and even he looked down at her. She couldn’t be much taller than five feet.
‘It’s really not that great. If we get going now, we’ll get to the beach quicker. Might have time for a swim,’ he explained.
‘But the itinerary said—’
‘The itinerary is more a suggestion than a schedule.’
‘But I wanted to see—’
‘Everyone! Over here!’ Cam clapped his hands twice. ‘Quick show of hands. I think we should get on the road now and try to get to the beach before sundown. Peggy here thinks we should hang around for the museum. Hands up for the beach.’ Over three quarters of the group raised their hands. A few others called out yeah! ‘And who wants another museum?’ As predicted, no one put up their hands. Well, Peggy did. Raised her hand cautiously, then jerked it back to her side.
It was better to push them like this early. Let them know he was in charge. He set the schedule. Sure, there was a risk she’d write a bad review, but if he kept everyone else happy, no one would notice.
‘Sorry. Majority rules.’
***
The bus swung around a corner, then shunted a little as it eased into the parking bay before shuddering to a stop. Cam exhaled with relief. The traffic from Versailles to La Rochelle had been thick, and the trip was much slower than it should have been. Someone had smuggled wine on board, and while they weren’t supposed to drink on the bus, guests often did, and when the trip was on the shorter side, he usually let it slide. But between roadworks and traffic, the trip had taken longer than it should have. Sometime during the last hour the music had started, a few phones blaring a mix of 80s classics and new releases which the more enthusiastic sung along to.
In the hostel foyer, he handed out keys and reminded everyone that the following day they needed to be in the hotel foyer for the day's side trip by 8.30, before he pointed in the direction of the best bars. His phone rang. His fingers hovered over the red decline circle, but after dismissing her call earlier, he knew he couldn’t ignore her again, or she’d ring Dad, and then he’d be in for an even more unpleasant conversation.
‘Ash.’ He started walking toward the beach, where at least he could see the last of the sunset and maybe get his toes wet. ‘How’s things?’
Every few months, his sister or dad would ring and give him a big spiel on his future. How he was wasting time travelling when he could be building a career. The conversation always started light enough.
‘Oh, you know, okay. Busy busy. Marcelle says hi.’
The general chatter would go on for a bit, before the not-so-subtle segue way.
‘Mum said that she saw Brendan, from school at the shops the other day. He’s getting a promotion. And he just got engaged.’
‘Brendan, wow. Didn’t think he had it in him.’
‘The promotion or engagement?’
‘Dunno. Both.’
After Cam had skirted around the edges of her probing, she always became frustrated. That’s when it would start.
‘Don’t you want to do something with your life, Cam? Start building a career? Don’t you have goals?’
‘Of course I have goals.’ And one of them was probably doing shots and draping herself over that guy from Argentina.
She huffed. ‘When are you going to try to reach them, then?’
When he’d finished school with less-than-ideal marks, he’d fallen into a teaching degree because it seemed as good as any. It had made mum happy if nothing else. Then, six months away from finishing, 3 weeks into final prac, a parent of one of the kids had ripped into him. Not just gotten cranky, or raised his voice, but really tore him apart. After, in the staff room, his supervisor had just shrugged it off and said yeah, that guys an arse, a few others muttered welcome to teaching and then kept sipping their instant coffee.
That night he’d searched online for something, anything, to get him away. On a jobs website, he’d signed up to take college kids on vaguely educational tours of Europe. No fixed address. Not many options for career progression. The perfect stop gap until he could figure out what he really wanted to do. Four years later, he was still figuring things out.
‘What’s wrong with what I’m doing? I get to see the world, meet interesting people.’
‘You’re twenty-nine. You can’t be taking tours of horny college kids when you’re fifty.’ An awkward silence extended down the phone, and even though they weren’t face-timing, he knew his sister well enough to know that she was tapping her fingers on the edge of the table. ‘Some day, you’ll just have to grow up.’
‘Grow up, get a grinding job, be forever miserable? Why? I don’t want to be a teacher, alright? I only went to uni because you and Dad wouldn’t let up.’ He didn’t mean to shout, but he was tired, his back hurt, and after always being the youngest, not just a little but by ten years, he was sick of being bossed around like a baby, sick of everyone knowing better than him. ‘Maybe I don’t want a beige life. It might suit you, but not everyone dreams of a sedan and townhouse in Poundbury.’
Cam tapped the red hang-up button with his thumb, wishing he could slam it down like in an old movie. He shoved his phone into his pocket and kicked at a tree. He turned to the road, only to knock into bloody Peggy.
‘What do you want?’ he snapped.
‘Some fresh air,’ she said, taking a step back. ‘And some quiet. Are you alright?’
‘I’m fine,’ he grumbled. He stepped aside to let her walk past him.
‘Bad phone call?’ she asked as she shoved her hands into her jeans pocket. ‘I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you were being a bit loud.’
She sat down on a wooden bench not far from the path, at the edge of the seat. Maybe leaving space for him, or maybe she was just the sort of person who preferred being on the outer. Cam grunted and sat at the opposite end of the bench. ‘Every few months, my sister rings to nag me about getting a proper job. Tonight, it got to me more than normal.’
‘A proper job?’
‘Yeah. Finish my degree, build a career, settle down, whatever.’
She pushed her fingers between the wooden slats. ‘I’d love to settle.’
‘You want the beige life?’
‘I don’t mean settling. I mean, being settled. Calm. Just having days where things are predictable. A day with a rhythm. No surprises, no curve balls. That type of thing.’
‘Sounds terrifying,’ he said with a laugh. Although in short jeans, a loose t-shirt and an oversized cardigan, she didn’t look like she led an unpredictable type of life.
‘I just haven’t had a lot of that.’ She shrugged. ‘Growing up, I moved a lot. Things were unpredictable. And I thought coming to England, from Australia, would give me a new start. I guess we all want what we don’t have.’
Beyond the winding concrete path, and the small boxed in garden and overhanging trees, waves lapped at the sand. Behind them, a group of kids were laughing, probably on their way back from a bar, still singing.
‘A woman running from her past,’ he said with a hefty dose of melodrama, partly to cover her vulnerable awkwardness that he hadn’t been expecting, but also because something about the way she spoke sparked a curiosity in him. ‘Do tell.’
‘It’s a long story. Too long for a Tuesday night in La Rochelle. I just needed to get away from home for a bit.’ She scuffed her sneaker against the path, then looked up with a jolt. ‘You’re a tour guide. You’ve been to a few places, haven’t you? Seen things? Maybe you can help me.’ She reached into her backpack and pulled out a small parcel wrapped in tissue paper. She pulled the string, then pushed back the paper to reveal a metal ball. ‘Have you ever seen anything like this before?’
‘What is it?’ he asked, as he plucked it from her hands.
‘I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I found it. In a shop, in London.’ She spoke with the same nervous rush guests used when they were lying about breaking something, but for now, he let it pass.
He turned the ball in his hands. Heavy, beautiful, and old. Really old. He was no expert, but after four years, he knew the difference between proper old and scuffed up for tourists old.
‘I thought it was a puzzle box, or an automaton. Normally with these things, there’s a key that opens them or sets them moving, but this one doesn’t have a lock or anything. Just these buttons and the Roman numerals. All I can think is that maybe there’s a special number it needs to be set to, like a safe.’
‘Maybe it’s not that side,’ Cam said, spinning it over. ‘Maybe it’s got something to do with this. These dots might mean something. They could be stars. Maybe it’s an Astrolabe.’
‘An astrolabe?’
‘They were for navigation, like a compass, but using the stars.’
‘I know what an astrolabe is. But normally they’re flat.’
‘I’ve seen one’s kind of like this before. And just because it's not usual, doesn’t mean it can’t happen.’ He tapped at a collection of dots, then pointed at the sky. ‘This could be Cygnus, the swan. Its stars are brighter at this time of year.’
‘I didn’t peg you as a star boy,’ Peggy said, laughing.
‘I was really into space when I was a kid. Wanted to be an astronaut. Turns out, the British space program is a bit …’
‘Non-existent?’ she said.
‘Something like that.’ He went back to examining the ball. ‘This one here could be Hercules.’ He traced out a pattern, then gestured skyward again. ‘Hey, look.’ Cam held the ball out further. ‘It’s glowing. Is it meant to do that?’
‘I don’t know. I think you should give it back to me. I can’t let anything happen to it.’
She leaned across the bench, and just as she touched the ball, it glowed brighter, and even though Cam tried to let go, he felt fixed in place. The leaves in the trees stopped moving, the waves on the beach rolled in slow motion. Colour drained from everything. The light became blindingly bright, then, with a loud snap, everything went black.