Authors: Bob Atkinson
Shawnee nodded proudly. “We could be related y’know.”
“Yeah, well, your guy Colin reckoned he could
see the resemblance between you and Mary,” Sam put in.
“That’s possible as well. After all, my dad was
a direct descendant of the Camerons of Glen Laragain.”
“You’re a Cameron?” said Andy. “It didn’t occur
tae me that you were a Cameron.”
A long-suffering expression appeared on Sam’s
face. “First thing y’learn about Shawnee; this Scottish thing. She’s like this
little Olympic runner that’s been given this torch to carry…”
“Good for you, lassie,” said Andy firmly. “And
now ye’ve brought yer wee bit of flame home.”
Shawnee smiled at the metaphor. “Yeah, but this
isn’t exactly what I had in mind. What was our plan, Sam? Two or three days in
the Highlands, then Edinburgh… London… Paris…Guess now we’re just gonna have to
spend the whole vacation in Scotland, huh?”
“Yeah, well, whatever happened could still
reverse itself,” said Sam.
“That’s true. We could all waken up tomorrow
back in our own worlds,” the soldier added with a reassuring smile. He seemed
more comfortable with Shawnee, having learned of their common tribal ancestry.
“It’s okay, fellas, y’don’t have to protect me,”
she said calmly. “I’m sure we’ve all figured it out by now; whatever sequence
of events took us from three different time periods is hardly gonna reverse
itself. Besides, I’m not sure I’d wanna go back to our world…”
“That’s if our world will ever exist now, after
what’s happened here,” said Sam.
“That’s what Ah was afraid of,” groaned Andy.
“Ah don’t know about you two but Ah couldn’t’ve caused more damage if Ah’d
arrived with a bomb in ma hands.”
“Maybe you’ve helped to right a wrong, Andy.
Maybe all of us have come together to correct something that should never have
happened.”
“D’ye think so? Ah wish Ah could see how that
slaughter could be tae the benefit of mankind.”
Sam tried to offer encouragement. “Maybe one of
those guys was the ancestor of Jack The Ripper, or some other evil son of a
bitch.”
“…Or Winston Churchill, or Abraham Lincoln. What
if Ah turn out tae be like the guy that shot yon Archduke whatsisname away back
in nineteen fourteen; he probably thought he’d done the right thing as well,
instead he kicked off World War bloody One…”
“I am become death, the destroyer of worlds,”
Shawnee announced grandly.
Sam turned to look at her. “You’ve become a
what?”
“I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.
It’s from the Hindu Scriptures. It’s meant to convey how awesome and capricious
fate can be. It’s the kinda thing Andy’s talking about.”
“Ah only joined up for three square meals and a
trade Ah could take intae civvy street,” the soldier murmured wretchedly.
“Maybe a uniform tae charm the lassies. That’s all Ah joined up for…”
Inside the cottage, shutters were closed to
allow a fire to be safely lit against the growing darkness. Before long smoke
was drifting through the thatched roof, filling the air with the familiar scent
of burning peat. Far to the east they could hear cattle lowing mournfully,
their distant bellowing like the echo of some primeval beast. The sound died
away as the sun disappeared behind
Druim Fada
.
“Y’know, if we have altered events to come,”
said Sam, picking up the threads of their discussion, “then how come we’re
still here? Or more to the point, Shawnee, how come you’re still here?”
“Doesn’t necessarily change my ancestry. I could
still be descended from the same direct line.”
“Yeah, that’s possible, but it’s unlikely if a
lot more people survived the massacre. And what about Colin and Alistair? It’s
even less likely their ancestry would remain the same.”
“What are you saying, Sam? In spite of
everything that’s happened these people are still destined tae be massacred?”
The American shrugged. “I remember reading about
this theoretical time paradox. It goes something like this; a guy builds a time
machine, goes back to when his grandpa was a boy and then shoots him…”
“Why would anyone wanna shoot their own
grandpa?” Shawnee asked.
“It’s just a hypothetical situation.”
“Doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“Okay. Let’s try something else. The guy was
carrying a rare disease and infected his grandpa when he was a boy, and his
grandpa died… horribly, and in a lotta pain…”
“The whole thing still sounds stupid to me.”
“Whatever,” Sam continued irritably. “The
paradox is this; if the grandpa died when he was a boy then the guy with the
time machine was never born…”
“…And could never have gone back and killed his
granddad.”
“That’s it exactly. Y’see, the way I figure it;
there must be boundaries that can’t be crossed, laws that cannot be broken.”
“Surely none of this is gonna affect us,” said
Shawnee. “I hardly think any one of us is gonna kill our own direct ancestor…”
“Let’s hope none of us discovers the answer to
that paradox,” continued Sam. “But it doesn’t just stop there though, does it?
Say there’s a second hypothesis; say two guys go back in a two-man time machine
and one kills the other’s grandpa. What’s gonna be the knock-on effect?”
“In a two-man time machine? Well, assuming it
takes two men to operate the machine, it’s gotta be the same as the first
hypothesis. It’s gotta be the same kinda paradox, yeah?”
Sam nodded in agreement, then added; “not
necessarily.”
“He does this at times,” she explained to Andy.
“He comes at you from the front, then hits y’from behind. Go on, Stephen
Hawking, enlighten us.”
Sam sniffed imperiously: “It’s possible, in such
a situation, that past events could be adjusted to suit the new circumstances…”
“Meaning…?”
“…The grandpa dies, his grandson vanishes in a
puffa smoke, and when the other guy goes back to the time machine it’s become a
one-man machine. There’s no direct paradox, so past events are rearranged to
suit the new reality.”
Sam’s audience took a few moments to absorb the
concept.
“D’ye think this is what’s happened tae us?”
asked Andy. “Our pasts have been rearranged tae fit what’s happened here?”
“Makes as much sense as anything. Us being here
is an inescapable fact. That’s gotta be the starting point for any changes that
stem from us.”
In the distance they could hear the frantic
bleating of a ewe and her lost lamb as each tried to locate the other.
Eventually mother and offspring were reunited, and only the soft rush of the
burn disturbed the stillness. Venus had appeared, like a yellow lantern amid
the fading glow of sunset, when the murmur of voices broke the silence that had
descended upon them.
“That’s Jamie and Achnacon,” said Andy. “That’ll
be them down from the shielings.”
They could hear other voices, to east and west
of
Meall An Fhraoich
; the voices of men and women, chattering softly to
each other, like geese on the wing.
Achnacon and Jamie emerged from the darkness.
“My friends, why do you not affail yourselfs of
warmth and shelter?” the Highlander asked in dismay. “Why do you sit here in
the chill of night like outcasts?”
“It’s too beautiful a night to sit indoors,”
Shawnee whispered in reply.
The old clansman removed his bonnet and took the
woman’s hand.
“You will be the Lady Shawnee. An old
bodach
’s
bones is denied many pleasures, but meeting one as fair as she is gallant is
not one of them.”
“And you will be Achnacon.” She smiled. “I’ve
heard so much about you. It’s a real honour to finally meet you in person.”
“My lady, the honour belongs to Achnacon.” The
Highlander kept hold of Shawnee’s hand as he straightened up, gazing at her so
intently her eyes fell away in embarrassment.
“Forgive me, please. T’was not my intention to
stare, but your voice is familiar to me. A chentleman would never forget such a
lady, and yet I feel as if ourselfs have met before…”
Shawnee smiled. “I’ve been told that before, but
never so beautifully.”
Achnacon looked reproachfully at Sam and Andy.
“’Tis the pastime of fools and dreamers to sit beneath the cold stars when
there is warmth and shelter indoors. For chentlemen to mistreat such a lady in
this fashion…” He shook his head in disappointment.
Shawnee impishly added her expression of
disappointment to his as Achnacon escorted her into the cottage.
Rhona and the other women of the clan sat in a
semi-circle around the fire. Rhona’s face was puffy, her eyes red-rimmed, but
she smiled gamely at Shawnee and Sam. Rae and Ferguson were unconscious on a
makeshift bed in the far corner. Diagonally opposite them Mary too lay asleep.
Alistair and Colin were awake, however, both staring intently as the newcomers
entered.
Achnacon spoke softly to the women, and the
oldest of the group took a ladle to a blackened cauldron that was suspended
over the fire. In the flickering shadows she looked like a sorceress stirring a
witch’s brew. The four newcomers were seated at the table, where the browned,
steaming contents of the cauldron were served to them in wooden bowls.
As soon as Sam realised the dish was a stew he
looked anxiously at Shawnee. “If y’can’t eat that just leave it,” he whispered.
“We’ll get something else.”
Her reply was barely audible: “I don’t think
they do a veg burger here, Sam.”
“Try it,” urged Andy, “it’s really nice.”
Cautiously Shawnee lifted the tiniest fragment
to her lips.
“Ah know what this is,” Jamie announced. “Ma
granny made this when Ah was a wean…”
“…I don’t wanna know!” Shawnee hissed. “I’ll eat
it ’cause I’m hungry, and I don’t wanna offend anybody, but I don’t wanna know
what it used to be, okay?”
“She’s a vegetarian,” explained Sam. “Doesn’t
like eating anything that used to have a pulse.”
“
Was
a vegetarian,” said Shawnee. Eyes
tightly shut, she satisfied her hunger the way a shipwrecked sailor, dying of
thirst, would sip his own urine.
While Shawnee’s eyes were closed Jamie made the
shape of antlers above his head.
“Anyway, Jamie, what did ye tell him?” Andy
asked.
Macsorley looked at his N.C.O.
“Achnacon. What did ye tell him about us?”
Jamie shifted in his seat. “Well, Ah kindae
thought it’d be better tae give him it straight; ye know, that we’re from the
future.”
Andy looked at the Highlander, to study the
effects of such an earth-shattering concept. The old man was deep in
conversation with his ladies, oblivious to the little band of time travellers.
“He seems tae have taken it all right. What was
his reaction?”
Jamie shook his head. “Ah thought these people
were quite…eh, what’s the word?”
“Primitive?” offered Sam.
Shawnee glared at him. “Spiritual?” she
suggested.
“Aye, spiritual, that’s the word Ah’m lookin’
for. Ah thought their minds would be open tae that sort of stuff, but Ah just
couldn’t get through tae him. ‘
Tell me, young Muirshearlach, how can a man
exist before he has been conceived?’
And ye know, how can ye explain
something ye don’t even understand yerself?”
“So what did y’tell the old guy?” Sam asked.
“Well, ye see, these people believe in what they
call the second sight; the ability tae see intae the future. He thought Ah was
talking in riddles, and Ah think he might’ve got the impression, like, that we
can see intae the future. Or at least that one of us can…”
“Which one?” asked Shawnee.
The young soldier glanced uneasily at his
corporal. “Ah think he might’ve sortae got the impression that it’s you, like…”
Andy groaned. “Aw for God sake; so now on top of
everything else Ah’m a bloody fortune teller.”
“It just sortae came out that way,” murmured
Jamie.
“What did y’tell him about Shawnee and me?”
“Oh, he knows you two are from America. He also
knows that Shawnee’s people came from Glen Laragain originally. From what Ah
can gather, a number of clansmen from the Glen were captured after the battle
of Worcester in sixteen fifty-one, and sold tae plantation owners in Virginia.
So just pick a Donald Cameron as yer ancestor; you can guarantee there was a
Donald there, somewhere.”
“Donald?” she echoed pensively. “That was my
dad’s name.”
“Right then, in that case, you’re the great
granddaughter of
Domnhuill Beag Camshron
of
Gleann Laragain
.”
“What does that mean?”
“Wee Donald Cameron of Glen Laragain.”
“Wee Donald Cameron. He’d have liked that.”
“What about all our weapons and suchlike? How
the hell do we explain all that?” Andy scowled.