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Time For Anything

AD 2350, 7:00 p.m. GMT, River Cove, England
     We landed in a dark place that looked to be some sort of a park. Since the trees around us gave me a feeling of security, I took the time to study our surroundings before shutting down the machine. I could see no one about, but I looked at Razul for confirmation, now assured that he could see and hear things that neither Barrington nor I could. I stifled my laughter at seeing the Colonel perched rather delicately on Razul's lap.

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     "Don't even think it," Razul growled at me. Looking at Barrington, he added, "And if you move at all, I'm going to blast you into a dimension that even John can't find." He pushed at the Colonel to give himself more room. "The very idea… Next time," he said, looking at me, "we hire professional travel agents."


     I shut down the locking mechanisms, allowing Razul to unlatch and push open the door, after which he pushed Barrington off his lap and pulled himself out of the seat.


     Picking himself up from his wedged-in position between the control panel and the front seat, the Colonel mumbled, "Don't flatter yourself, old boy. I could think of any number of traveling companions I'd rather have, and with much more comfortable laps."


     I stepped out of the machine, looking around. Wherever we were, it was quiet, at least. According to my controls, this was supposed to be an obscure little town called River Cove, an English property Razul led us to. Now, as I gazed around the sleeping houses, I wondered why he'd brought us here. We were trying to hide, and he would not likely blend in with the local color.


     Razul was already striding off into the dark streets before us. Barrington and I scrambled to follow, and I couldn't help but think the dark, silent man ahead of us had a specific destination in mind.


     "Razul, why this place? You have reasons for wanting to stay here?"


     "No. I just want to find a recently published history book. Just follow me and keep quiet."


     Night fell over the city as Barrington and I struggled to keep up with the wizard’s long strides. I looked around at what seemed a wasteland. Could this have been his home all those years ago? It had a bombed-out look to it, and I wondered how many wars might have taken place over the last three hundred and fifty years.


     Looking over his shoulder, he led us to an entrance to what turned out to be a public library. Waving that crazy wand around, he pulled open the doors and ushered us inside. I realized what he was trying to do. I followed him to the history section as Barrington lingered in the anteroom, his jaw hanging open at the covers of periodicals he'd glanced on our way in. Smiling, I realized that if I hadn't already been used to the changes over the years, I, too, would have been shocked to see such blatant sexuality plastered all over published materials.


     Once Razul pointed out which books to peruse, I helped him look for any mention of newsworthy notes. As I read, I learned there had been four wars since 2006, and the first three seemed to be preludes to what became known as The Great Global War. I wondered what significance any of it would have on his magical world, but it was interesting to read nonetheless.


     Gasoline prices had forced the average working man to rebel by going back to bicycles and horses. Horse feed rose in price, so man's longevity increased as he was forced to begin walking more often. By this year, 2350, the average life span of a male was 105 years. Interesting.


     Israel was no more. It was now known as Albregatha, and I noticed that separation of church and state had always been a pipe-dream. The theologians now ran the governments over most of the world. I slammed the book shut, determined to die by my own hand at eighty, just in case I was still alive by then.


     "Razul, I can find no mention of you or your…colleagues…in these books. Isn't that what you were looking for?"


     "Not a specific mention. I was reading between the lines to see if it would be worth venturing into the wizarding library to learn more. I think we can risk it. I was trying to see whether anyone had found out about things like the Eternal Life Elixir or the legendary Fountain of Youth. There seems to be no hint of such things."


     "So where is this wizarding library?"


     "We're here," he said, smiling. "But, unlike Mortal libraries, it never closes. I didn't want to enter it unless I knew who might be there. I have no way of knowing yet if I still have enemies lurking about."


     Frowning, I followed him back to the anteroom, where the Colonel drooled over a magazine whose cover depicted a leather-clad woman sitting astride her naked and bound boy-toy. I grabbed his arm on the way past. We followed Razul to a door at the back of the media room, where he mumbled something and pushed open the door.


     Inside the room was a wizened old man in raggedy brown robes, smoking a pipe with questionable-smelling tobacco. He nodded at us as we passed him. Razul didn't stop until we were in the reading room. He closed the door behind us, and started rummaging through the stand of newspapers at the end of the table.


     Barrington punched my arm, then pointed to the paper Razul tossed down to the surface of the table. The picture on the front page moved, and it revealed a grinning woman, showing off some sort of award she'd been handed by a frowning man. The headlines flashed past, proclaiming this bimbo to be the most talented actress since the days of the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts.


     Razul tossed a few more newspapers on the table, and I sat down and grabbed one at random. "What am I looking for?" I asked.


     "Any mention of my name, Razul Shark, or Anthony Drummond, or Henry Parker. Any mention of the term, 'Hell Member', or 'Korak'. That name needs all of your attention. He's the one you would have entertained had we not fled."


     We must have studied the strange newspapers for more than an hour, when Razul let out a cross between a sob and a sigh. "There it is! Parker seems to have been successful in defeating Korak. And I was exonerated." He tossed the paper aside and stared before him, his eyes blank. I couldn't tell if he was relieved or upset.


     After a few moments, he looked up. "It took them ten years to clear my name. I wonder how much of that delay was Parker's fault." He shrugged his shoulders. "No matter, I guess. I'm a hero now, and it's safe for me to stay here. I will lead you back to your machine, so you can go to wherever your next stop is. Thank you for your help."


     "No, Razul," I answered. "Thank you for yours. What will you do now?"


     "Well, I must find a place and a way to live. I'll settle in with the Mortals hereabouts. But in order to earn a living, I suppose I'll have to keep my hand in the wizarding world as well."


     "You're a hero? This calls for a celebration." I couldn't explain the empty feeling I felt, thinking about leaving him here to start his life from scratch. It didn't seem fitting for the hero he now was.


     He blew out a self-deprecating laugh. "Celebration? I don't know the meaning of the word."


     Barrington looked over at me from the corner of his eye. "Well, what sort of night life is there in this burg? I'm sure, even in these modern times, people still celebrate things in the normal way."


     I saw the corners of Razul's mouth begin to twitch, and I knew we'd won him over. He stood and led us out of the wizarding library, out of the Mortal library, and down the streets of the Mortal River Cove toward what must have been the town center.


     As we turned to enter a boulevard at the heart of town, Razul stopped short, looking up at the sight before us. I saw his shoulders sag, and knew he saw things he hadn't expected to see. I realized that what I'd seen on his face as we walked was the bittersweet pangs of nostalgia, and for him, it must have been more bitter than sweet.


     His next words confirmed it.


     "They've turned this dingy and depressing little town into a brothel," he murmured.


     The neon signs over most of the establishments ahead of us made the ragged town more lurid and seedier. The women walking the streets, tempting passersby, were older than they seemed at first glance, and most were toothless. As they approached us, then scoffed at our refusals, I heard raucous laughter. Were there no young women around?


     "Taken away to slavery, I imagine," said Razul.


     I was getting used to his reading my mind, and began to think of happier places we could go. Either he was being obtuse, or he had a strong attachment to this town, but he chose not to recognize my thoughts. Or so I thought.


     Stopping, and not budging when Barrington ran smack into his back, he turned to look at me. "Take me away from all this," he said. His tone betrayed none of the depression in his eyes.


 

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