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  Hansum felt the bottom, a few slippery rocks and submerged tree trunks at first, and then sand and stone. He nodded to his other self.

  “Can you touch bottom yet?” The younger Hansum struggled with his feet and then stood. “Stop!” the older Hansum shouted to Pedang. When he felt he could stand against the remaining current, he let go of the sword and pulled himself toward his other self. He grabbed the saddle with both hands, allowing his younger self to get a better hold of Guilietta. “Pedang, the saddle. Cut Guil’s rope.” Pedang was there in an instant and the older Hansum moved his hand to Guilietta’s. He hesitated before he touched them. They were raw and blue. Emotion caught in his chest, but he pushed it down and, as gently as possible, forced his way between her hands and the saddle. The opening created, Pedang slipped under and, without hesitation, cut the bonds. Just like that, Guilietta was free.

  The older Hansum now pulled the saddle away and released it into the current. It instantly took off down river, sinking before it got far. Then the two Hansums moved together, each putting their arms under Guilietta, forming a sling and raising her up. They started stepping toward the shore.

  “I can transport now,” Sideways said and, instantly, they were on the shore, standing on a patch of soft grass. There was still a roar in the air, but they could already feel the radiant heat from the sun. They put Guilietta gently down on the ground and knelt beside her.

  “She not breathing,” the younger Hansum shouted.

  “Give her artificial respiration,” Sideways said.

  “I don’t know how,” the younger one cried.

  “I do!” the older Hansum said, that being one of the first classes during general training.

  Hansum breathed into Guilietta’s mouth and alternatively pumped her chest. As he did, he could hear his younger self cursing him.

  “How could you, how could you let this happen? Come on, come on, breathe Guilietta, breathe. Please Cristo, let her breathe,” and, as the older Hansum switched from breathing to pumping, he could see his younger self cross himself.

  Finally Guilietta coughed, convulsing as she did, and water came up from her lungs. The older Hansum quickly turned her on her side, and she winced. As she continued to cough up water, both Hansums noticed her dress was torn and a circle of red was forming. She had been speared by one of the broken branches. The younger Hansum gently put his hand there and Guilietta winced again.

  Suddenly, Sideways moved away from Hansum, morphing from a tunic into a heavy blanket.

  “What the . . .” the younger Hansum cried.

  “It’s okay,” shouted the older one, the bright scar cross now exposed on his bared chest.

  “I’m going to warm her and scan her injuries,” Sideways called, and he lay himself over Guilietta.

  The older Hansum watched as the younger one went to Guil’s head and tucked the edge of the blanket under her, like a pillow. Then he moved her wet hair from her eyes and spoke soothingly.

  “It’s all right. I’m here now, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re going to be all right.”

  The older Hansum had to shake his own head and refocus. He looked down at the blanket and Sideways’s face formed.

  “She’s got internal injuries,” he whispered. “A punctured lung.”

  “A punctured lung!” the younger Hansum yelled. “She has to be operated on. Take her back. Take her back with you.” Guilietta coughed again, cringing in pain. More liquid came out from her mouth, but this time it was a frothy pink. “Don’t just stand there, do it now!” the young Hansum shouted.

  The older Hansum looked at the younger one. “You’ve got the pendant. You’ll go back with her.”

  “What?” the younger one said, exasperated.

  “You’re supposed to take her back. It will make things right.”

  Guilietta coughed again. The younger Hansum put his hand to her mouth and his fingers turned bright red.

  “I don’t care who takes her,” he screamed. “Do it now!”

  “Sideways, take them home,” the older Hansum said, and he bent down and put his face close to Guilietta’s. “Take them home.”

  “Good bye, Master Hansum,” Sideways said. “It was an honor.” Sideways looked over at the younger Hansum. “Sir, you must take hold of me. A vortex will form.”

  Both Hansums’ faces were close to Guilietta’s now.

  “Good bye, Guilietta,” the older Hansum said. “I love you,” and he kissed her gently on the temple. Her eyelids fluttered.

  “Please step back, Master Hansum,” Sideways said. “The vortex. Come, Pedang.”

  “Goodbye, sir,” Pedang said. “I’m sorry that . . .”

  “Go,” the older Hansum shouted, and he raised his hand in farewell. He stood there, wet and shirtless, his face showing serene sadness.

  “And thus I call the vortex,” Sideways said. A wind came up, lifting leaves and sand off the ground. A circle started, but then it died. “I call the vortex,” Sideways called again, but this time absolutely nothing happened.

  “What’s going on?” the younger Hansum asked in frustration.

  The older Hansum stepped forward.

  “It’s like the first time Arimus and I tried to save her,” Sideways said. “Guilietta just can’t seem to go through a time vortex.”

  “What first time?” the younger Hansum shouted. “I don’t understand.”

  The older Hansum fell to his knees.

  “My plan didn’t work,” he said. “I’ve failed again.”

  “What first time?” the younger Hansum screamed. “What plan?” and he was up and at his older self. He got down on his knees and grabbed the other Hansum, shaking him. “Tell me what’s going on! We’ve got to save her.”

  “I can’t,” Hansum moaned pitifully.

  “Don’t tell me that!” the younger Hansum screamed. “I’ll kill . . .”

  “Romero,” the weak voice of Guilietta whispered. “Is that you, Romero?”

  Instantly, both Hansums were back to Guilietta, one on each side.

  “Don’t turn her on her back,” Sideways said.

  The younger Hansum lay on the ground, looking straight into Guilietta’s eyes. The older one hovered above.

  “I’m here, Guilietta, I’m here, my love.”

  “My . . . husband,” Guilietta whispered painfully. “You came to rescue me.”

  “Of course, of course. I would travel across time for you, my darling.”

  “You are all right?” she asked.

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, darling.”

  “You’re safe. That’s good.” She coughed again. More blood.

  “We’ve got to get you home. I’ll make a litter. Go find the Podesta . . .” He started to stand, but Guilietta’s hand came out and touched his.

  “No, stay with me, my husband. Stay with me while I go to Jesus.”

  “No, Guilietta, no,” the younger Hansum pleaded, his eyes instantly full of tears. “You can’t die. I haven’t had enough.”

  “Who’s to say what’s enough?” Guilietta said, trying to smile. “Not those who say it. I am content that yours is the last voice . . .”

  “Can’t you do something?” the older Hansum said to Sideways.

  “I’ve been trying, sir,” Sideways said.

  Guilietta looked up and saw the second Hansum. Her eyes widened and her composure left her. She became terrified. “What?” she gasped. She looked back to the younger Hansum, then back at the older. Fear filled her eyes. “Am I already dead? Am I in Hell? Am I in purgatory? Sweet Jesus, save me,” and she began coughing, spatters of blood spraying on both Hansums. “I’m afraid of Hell!” she wheezed, then began gasping for breath, unable to speak.

  “Her lungs are hemorrhaging,” Sideways said.

  “Guilietta, Guilietta!” the younger Hansum cried, cradling her in his arms. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth moving but unable to form words as blood and mucus began to bubble from it. She saw the second Hansu
m and her face contorted. She closed her eyes, burying her head in the younger Hansum’s chest.

  “Guilietta,” the older Hansum screamed, but as he came to her he felt his counterpart’s hand shoving him away. He fell back to the ground, out of her sight. He stayed there.

  “Hush my darling, hush,” the younger Hansum cried. “Hush my darling, hush my . . .” and in a fit of pain her body, trying to breathe, broke free of her husband. It arched up off the ground, even throwing Sideways off. Her face, a bloody mask of pain, hung there frozen. Her heart was pounding, her body screaming for oxygen that her blood-filled lungs couldn’t deliver. Her eyes focused on her husband’s pleading and helpless face . . . and then . . . and then her gaze went blank. She collapsed to the ground, still. The A.I. cloak slowly rose off the ground and gently wrapped itself around the now-still body and face.

  “I’m sorry, Master Hansum,” Sideways said to the younger man.

  He was sitting there, his unbelieving eyes in shock. Finally he grimaced and screamed.

  “GUILIETTA!”

  The older Hansum lay on the ground in a fog of exhaustion, unable to move as the white terror he had worked so hard to master, reclaimed him. The terror swelled up from the depths of his soul, the fear and grief from his first two losses, hidden by his training, raced up like ghosts from the grave and devoured his entire being.

  But his countless hours of training was still with him. He ground his teeth and forced himself not to succumb to the situation. “Not yet!” His face pale and drained of blood, the older Hansum looked at the young man bent over Guilietta. He saw the dangling pendant around the other’s neck, the temporal time protection. He knew that new waves of time were rolling across the cosmos and that they would soon catch up to the 24th-century, changing everything. Any second now, without that device around his neck, he would disappear and the Hansum in front of him would take his place.

  That had been the plan, but could he let it happen now? Guilietta had died sooner. No cannons would be made before their time. But without his wife or the experience with the Podesta, perhaps the Hansum he saw in front of him would be so different, when he finally did get back to his century, maybe he wouldn’t make the same decisions and come back to save Guilietta. Could he take that chance?

  In his grief, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps that would be better. Guilietta was out of pain now. Maybe it was best. But then the older Hansum forced himself to stand, his conditioning to complete his mission coming to the fore. He walked over to his younger self and kneeled, putting a hand on the other’s shoulder. The younger Hansum tensed and looked up, tears streaming from his eyes, grief, confusion and anger on his face.

  “I made things worse,” the older Hansum said. “I’m sorry.”

  Anger took over what was on the younger one’s face.

  “Who the hell are you?” he growled. “Who the . . .” Pedang levitated beside them both, his eyes moving between the two.

  “I’m you,” the older Hansum said quietly. “About a year from now. I . . . I came back to fix things, to save Guil . . . I made them worse.” The younger Hansum’s eyes flared. He looked down at the blanket covering Guilietta. The older Hansum reached and took hold of the chain of the time pendant necklace. “I need this, so I can try agai . . .” but before he could finish his sentence, a fist from the younger Hansum smashed into his face, driving him onto his back. The younger Hansum leapt upon him, throwing more punches.

  “I’ll kill you, you bloody liar! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you.”

  “Stop it, stop it!” Pedang shouted.

  “Desist, Master Hansum,” Sideways’s face cried from the blanket.

  “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you,” the younger Hansum screamed as he continued to punch.

  “Stop! Stop it,” another voice called. It was Lincoln, still a distance away, hobbling and obviously in pain. “Stop it. Hansum. Stop!” But the younger Hansum continued to pummel his older self, who just lay there taking it. As Lincoln got to them, he awkwardly dove at the younger Hansum, tackling him around the shoulders and taking him to ground. “Please, buddy, please. Please stop,” he said firmly, grabbing the younger Hansum’s shoulders. Amazingly, he stopped, his red eyes burning up at Lincoln. “Where’s Guil?” Lincoln asked, and neither Hansum answered. “Where’s . . .” and then he looked around, seeing the blanket with Sideways sad face looking back at him. A hand and a foot were sticking out from beneath. Lincoln went pale as he flopped down to the ground, stunned. The younger Hansum, now free, turned toward Guilietta’s covered body and lay himself back on the ground, facing her in the fetal position. All was silence until Pedang levitated over to Lincoln.

  “Master Lincoln. The pendant. It must be put on your Hansum. Quickly.”

  Lincoln looked back at the younger Hansum lying awkwardly on the ground by Guilietta. He crawled over the few feet to him.

  “Hey man,” he said softly. “I need that pendant. If we’ve any chance to try again . . .”

  The young Hansum grabbed the pendant around his neck and tried pulling the chain so hard it would break. But it was unbreakable. In frustration, he finally pulled it over his head and threw it at Lincoln.

  “Take it, you bloody liars,” he shouted.

  Lincoln quickly went over to the older Hansum. He tried to put the necklace over him, but Hansum put a hand up to stop him.

  “You must put the necklace on him, sir,” Sideways said with urgency. “The wave containing the changes we’ve made to the timeline is speeding toward the 24th-century. If you want another try at saving Guilietta, you must put it on . . . now.”

  “What do you want me to do, pal?” Lincoln asked. “It’s up to you. Try again or let it be?”

  Hansum looked up at Lincoln with eyes that were now swollen and black.

  “What is he talking about?” the younger Hansum asked, his voice choking. “Tell me.”

  The older Hansum looked from Lincoln to his younger self, and then to Guilietta. He felt so defeated, like he wanted to just give in to the universe. It would be so peaceful to just fade away and . . .”

  “Over there,” they heard a man shout in the distance. It was the two soldiers sent by Captain Caesar. They were galloping toward them.

  “Quickly!” Lincoln said. “Decide.”

  Hansum nodded, putting his hand down and letting Lincoln slip the necklace over his head.

  “Sideways. Pedang,” Lincoln called. “To me.” Pedang flew close to Lincoln and the older Hansum. Sideways slowly withdrew from Guilietta, exposing her still body. The younger Hansum crawled closer to her, still lying in the grass, now face to face with her unseeing eyes. He took her hand. Lincoln helped the older Hansum sit up and Pedang pressed himself against them.

  “I’m sorry,” the older Hansum said.

  The younger Hansum turned and looked at him, stone-faced.

  “Now,” Lincoln said and Sideways blinked, calling for the vortex.

  Immediately, a wind tunnel formed around the group.

  “It’s working this time,” Pedang announced.

  The two Hansums stared at each other as the large yellow Sands of Time appeared. They stared with eyes which had flowed from the same source, watched the same world and imagined the same dreams. Now they contained the same grief and wordless questions. As the Sands of Time gained speed, the ground fell away.

  BOOK THREE

  Fears of the Brave

  Chapter 1

  Hansum was awakened in the middle of the night by the touch of a familiar force field on his shoulder. He rolled over on his levitation mattress and saw exactly who he thought he would see.

  “Charlene, I’m trying to sleep,” he complained hoarsely. “I’ve got to catch the transport early in the morning.”

  “And I’ve got to talk some sense into you,” she replied.

  “Oh, for Gia sakes!” Hansum flopped back over and pulled the blanket over his head.

  Using her force field, Charlene sucked the cover off him, caus
ing it to fly up in the air.

  “You will listen to me!” Charlene pronounced, her animated brows coming together above two angry, drawn eyes. Hansum sprang to his feet, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts.

  “That’s all I’ve been doing since I got back over two months ago,” he snapped. “I’ve been listening to you, to Mom and Dad, the village elders, everyone. And when I do get a few words in, you all just talk over me.”

  “But going back for more punishment . . . a third time . . . it’s obsessive!”

  “I’m not obsessed. Both our family doctor and the Council agree I’m just trying to complete a difficult task. I want to save Guilietta. I’m not crazy.”

  “One time you come back and you’ve been skewered through the heart and the next your face is beaten to a pulp . . . by yourself. And you’re going back for more?”

  “You listen to me and you listen to me good, Charlene. Whatever I’ve been through, I’m healed. I’m fine and I’m going to keep trying. So get off my case!”

  “You’re not healed on the inside. I know you better than all those doctors put together. Oh, you’re so stubborn! Worse than when you were a child. Something terrible is eating at you and I don’t know what it is. I wish I could mind-delve you,” Charlene grumbled. “I really want to know what’s going on inside that brain of yours.”

  “Charlene, I’ve told you what I’m thinking. Believe me — please. Now,” he said snatching the blanket from the floor, “will you please get out of my room and let me sleep? Lincoln, Shamira and Kingsley will be here in three hours.”

  “At least stay for another month,” Charlene pleaded as he crawled back onto his invisible bed.

  “Charlene, it’s time to get on with things.”

  “For our family’s sake. For my sake,” she begged.

  “Time travel is still open and we don’t know if and when it will close. We’ve got to submit another plan to the Council and it’s meeting the day after tomorrow.” And with that, Hansum pulled the covers around him and turned toward the wall.