“What do you mean?”
“Well I’m not sure exactly, but all I know is, and this is going to sound really odd, we somehow traveled back in time to the days of ancient Rome.”
She stared at me, probably considering whether to punch me or shoot me. Probably deciding both required more effort than she could summon at the moment, instead, she decided to threaten me.
“Hunter, I swear to God, if you don’t tell me what’s really going on in the next ten seconds, I promise, I will kill you.”
I chuckled. That would be a fun fight.
“I’m not kidding.” I paused. “McDougal didn’t make it.”
Her hands sprang up to cover her mouth as she looked at the cot next to her, noticing the covered corpse.
“What happened?”
“I told you. We went back in time, and the trip wasn’t easy. It was the single most painful experience I have ever endured. You were drugged up, so it probably didn’t register as badly, but McDougal was just barely hanging in there. The transition was too stressful on his system. It killed him. Wang did what he could, but it wasn’t enough.”
Helena looked over to where Wang knelt next to the body of his long time commander, still cleaning his medical supplies. His face was a mess, a reflection of his failure and guilt. Helena’s glance lingered respectfully, before turning back to me.
“Say I believe you. What do we do now?”
“Again, I’m not sure, but Vincent is talking to these people. We think they’re Roman because they’re speaking Latin and wearing togas. Not a lot to go on, I know, but…” I waited, trying to rationalize everything, “…oh fuck it. Let’s go see what Vincent’s got.” I stood. “Need a hand?”
I offered her my hand, which she lightly grasped. Gently, I helped her up until we both realized she needed way more help than what was already being offered. I had to swing one of her arms over my shoulder, and wrap my own arm around her waist, supporting her entire frame against my own to keep her from collapsing under her own weight.
I grunted slightly with the effort. She was heavier than she looked. “Gee, Strauss, lay off the desserts next time, will ya?”
“I’m not kidding this time. I will kill you.”
I laughed. “Come on.”
We approached Vincent and the men in togas conversing when I noticed another man, clearly not part of the group, slinking towards the only exit. He noticed my attention and quickened his pace, his face ablaze in terror. He was gone before I could say anything.
I guess we’ll have a welcoming party when we get out of here.
Vincent clasped a fist over his chest, indicating the conversation was over.
He turned, and everyone, save Wang, gathered to try and make some sense of it all.
“So?” I asked.
“Well,” Vincent started. “It turns out we have in fact traveled to the days of ancient Rome, and from what I can gather, during the time of Caligula,” he paused. “Simply amazing.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Santino commented, offering his usual, helpful two cents.
“But how is that possible?” Bordeaux asked, his French accent thickening from the stress of the moment. “What possibly could have done such a thing?”
“They didn’t say,” was the only thing Vincent could report, shrugging.
The last thing I remembered was that glowing ball, and knew it had something do with our predicament.
“I know,” I said. “At least, I think I do. That sphere Santino picked up from Abdullah’s room had to have done it. During the firefight, I picked it up, and saw this exact room and those men within it. Then, when I touched it, I felt it pull me through, I guess taking everything in the room with me. I don’t know why it didn’t activate when Abdullah held it.”
Everyone just stared at me. They had no idea how to respond. They didn’t cover time travel back in basic, in any of our countries’ boot camps.
“You realize we’re all dreaming right now, right?” Santino said a few moments later. “I mean, we’re standing in the middle of an impossibly paradoxical situation right now. In fact, I’m just about to wake up with Strauss rubbing my feet and feeding me a smoothie. Bordeaux, pinch me, will ya?”
Bordeaux pinched his arm, shrugging sadly when nothing happened. Never one to give up so easily, Santino slapped his face.
“Shut up, Santino.” Helena said angrily at the display.
“He is right, though,” I added. “And he did use the word ‘paradoxical’ properly. I’m impressed.”
I tossed Santino a thumbs up, and he grinned stupidly, loving Helena’s scowling expression.
“The point is, wherever we are…” Helena informed us, splitting her attention between each of us, “there’s nothing we can do about it. For now. We need to focus on getting home.”
“She’s right,” Vincent replied, all business. “We need to secure our gear, and see to our dead and wounded.” He lingered on that last part, the impact of command finally sinking in. “Finally, we need to get out of here and get into contact with the local leadership and see if we can figure out where to go from here.”
It was good to see he was taking to command so smoothly. We were going to need some form of leadership if we were going to get out of here…
Get out of here?
What happens when we do get out of here?
We’re two thousand years in the past. Having studied no actual precedent for time travel, I had no idea how things worked, but I did have years of television watching to at least give me something to work with. I’d seen enough to know we were in an extremely dangerous position, not to mention totally uncharted waters. Everyone’s seen the movies where people go back into the past and fuck up the future. Could that happen to us? Had we already messed something up with our mere presence alone?
I still couldn’t believe the fact we actually traveled into the past hadn’t really hit me yet.
“There’s another thing,” I added.
“Go ahead,” Vincent ordered.
“We can’t tell these people anything about who we are.”
“Why not?” Bordeaux asked.
“Well. We’re in the past, right? Our past. I’m no expert, and I’m sure Vincent can back me up on this, but in Roman history there is absolutely no mention of soldiers that fit our descriptions. That can mean one of two things. First, no one wrote it down because we either die real soon, or we don’t make any kind of impression on anyone, which is kinda hard to believe. Or, simply, we were never here, and what we do here and now, can potentially alter the future. Our mere presence may have already been enough to change something. We have to be very careful. We could accidentally kill our own ancestors just by forcing them to avoid walking into us, and then I have no idea what would happen.”
Again, they all just looked at me.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Santino repeated incredulously.
“Come on, Santino. You watch TV. As far as I know, we’re the first time travelers in recorded history. I have no idea how this shit works, but from what I think I know, I believe we have to be very careful. We can’t mention people, places, terms, dates, anything. It can completely change history.”
Before my words could completely sink in, the room started to shake.
Violently.
Cross beams and bracings started to drop and rocks began falling out of the ceiling. The room was about to collapse.
“Remember what I said about dying really quick?” I asked, twirling Helena away from a falling rock.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Santino said for a third time, maybe hoping his final repetition, and the clicking of his combat boots might whisk us away from this nightmare version of Oz.
The Romans were already rushing out of the room, quick on their feet.
