He laughed out loud, a strange sound in the empty cavern, the cold in his feet and fingers offset by the warm glow of triumph. He was going to do great things now that the Fault Line was his to command. He was going to make everyone sit up and take notice. In fact, he was going to do more than that-he was going to make them all bow down and admit the farm should be his.
Needle Farm!
Chapter 30
“Dude,” whispered Steve. “Tell me again-why are we giving water to a ghost?”
“Because he’s not really a ghost.” Tyler watched Octavio Tinker empty the canteen, then wipe his mouth with a wrinkled hand-a hand of flesh and bone. “I think he came out of the Fault Line… from the past.”
“No way,” said Steve. “Really? I mean, dude, that’s awesome.”
“What’s that?” The old man looked up, staring at him with bright, sharp eyes. “What did you say?”
“The Fault Line, Mr. Tinker. We know about it.”
“Hmmm. And you seem to know my name, too.” Octavio handed back the empty Cub Scout canteen. “Thank you for the drink. How do you know me, boy?” The old man looked to be eighty if he was a day, but his wits seemed sharp. Tyler didn’t want to lie to him and didn’t even know how to do it if he tried to.
“I know you because… because you’re from the past. Our past. You’re in the future-your future, that is. At least I think so.” He looked from the inventor to Steve Carrillo, who was watching events with total absorption. “That’s the only way I can make sense of it. I’m guessing you’ve been experimenting with the Fault Line and you’ve come out in the future.”
The old man raised a bushy eyebrow. “Truly? That wasn’t my intention. What year is it?” When Tyler told him he raised the other eyebrow, too. “Hmmm. You’re right-this is some twenty years and more ahead of when I entered the Breach.” He smiled, looking like a child with a secret. “So it opens both to the past and the future! My theory was correct! But you said ‘Fault Line.’ Is that what it’s called these days?”
Tyler shrugged. “I guess. It’s still a secret. You used both names in your… notes. Your granddaughter’s husband calls it the Fault Line… ”
“Gideon?” The old man shook his head. “Hah! I should have known he’d manage to hang onto the place somehow. I hope Grace is keeping him in line… ” He trailed off and suddenly a stricken look came over him. “Oh, Lord, I forgot! Have you seen her? That’s who I’m here hunting for-my granddaughter Grace!”
Tyler felt pretty sure he had, but not in the way Octavio Tinker meant. “No, sir. Not here. Not today… ”
“Damn.” The old man seemed ready to wander off again, but hesitated. “Can you tell me if I’m going to find her…?” he began, then suddenly stopped and then waved his hands. “No! No, forget I asked. Don’t want to know about the future. Too many chances for paradox. Don’t tell me anything more about what’s in front of me, boys. Nothing!”
Tyler, who had already been worrying about what he should or shouldn’t say to the inventor of the Continuascope, felt a wash of relief. What could he tell him, anyway? He didn’t know what day it was in the old man’s time-Gideon’s father-in-law might have five years left to live or five days. All Tyler knew for sure was that he would wind up dead beside his car in the Ordinary Farm driveway on the night Grace disappeared… Whoa, Tyler suddenly thought. He said he’s looking for Grace. What if… what if that’s the night he came from? The night his granddaughter, Gideon’s wife, vanished forever? The night she somehow wound up in the mirror-world where Tyler had met her? “You’re looking for your granddaughter, you said. What happened to her?”
“That’s just it,” said the old man unhappily. “I don’t know! I came back from an errand into town and she was gone! She was here by herself when I left but there’s no note to say where she’s gone, and the Contin… ” He abruptly stopped, looking from Tyler to Steve with sudden suspicion.
“I swear I don’t know anything, sir!” said Steve quickly, holding up his hands, backing off. “I’ll go sit right over here and you don’t have to touch me with your Time Hands or anything.”
Tyler couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “You were going to say ‘the Continuascope,’ ” he told Octavio. “We know about it already. I live on the farm during the summers and… and I know a lot about you and the Fault Line, Mr. Tinker. Don’t worry-your secrets are still safe.”
Octavio looked him over for a moment, then nodded. “Good. But I didn’t realize I’d actually crossed over into the Fault Line. Must have been caught in a fluctuation.” He pointed to Tyler’s flashlight. “I’ve been lost in the dark for a long time, son. Help me look for Grace and I’ll tell you what I know. Maybe between us we can make some sense out of this.”
Tyler couldn’t quite figure out Octavio Tinker. Half the time he seemed as sharp as anybody, but at other moments, as when he stood at the intersection of two mine tunnels calling brokenly for his lost granddaughter, he seemed to be what Tyler’s mother would have called pretty much loopy. Was the old man in shock-had he suffered a trauma? Or was he just getting senile, someone whose grasp on the outer world was slowly growing dark?
They walked for a long while. Sometimes, when Tyler was leading, he could sense something strange, a faint pressure or resistance down some of the passages. Other directions felt almost welcoming, as though instead of having a cold, strong wind in his face he suddenly had a balmy breeze at his back. Caught up in these observations, it was some time before he noticed that he and Octavio Tinker were taking turns at the front, and that both seemed to understand without speaking when it was the other person’s turn to lead.
“You seem to have the knack, young man,” old Octavio said as if he had been thinking the same things. “Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“You mean… finding my way around down here?”
“The knack for the traveling the Fault Line, yes. I have it too, as you’ve probably noticed, although it’s a fuzzy sort of science at best. But for most people, their first trip through here would be their last. It’s all much easier with the Continuascope, of course-or at least much more precise-but I can make my way around a little bit without it. You can feel the Fault Line in front of us, can’t you? That’s wha you’re heading toward.”
“I… I guess.”
Octavio Tinker turned to study his face. “Are we related, son? Or are you someone Gideon’s brought in to experiment with?”
He didn’t want to lie to this fierce, clever old man, especially not if Octavio Tinker might be doomed to die soon. Twenty years or more ago, he reminded himself. But for him, soon… “Yes. I am related to you.”
The old man seemed very pleased by this. He clapped Tyler on the shoulder with a hand like a bundle of fragile sticks. “Good! Ah, that’s good news. So I’ve left behind some kind of a legacy, after all!”
“Oh, you’ve left a lot, sir.” He wondered if there was some way to bring the old fellow back to the present day Ordinary Farm. Even Mrs. Needle wouldn’t be able to dispute with Octavio himself! But of course something like that would probably create even worse problems in the long run-problems that could affect a lot more than just who controlled an obscure farm in foothills of the Sierra.
Reluctantly, Tyler put the idea aside. Thinking about all of the science-fiction angles to traveling in time, though, had made him wonder about something else.
“Why don’t you have the Continuascope?” he asked.
The old man looked a little startled. “Eh?”
“The Continuascope. You said it makes finding your way much more precise. Why did you go into the Fault Line without it?”
“Because Grace took it-she must have, it’s gone from the place I keep it. That’s why I had to come in here after her.”
“Really?” That didn’t jibe with what Tyler knew. Hadn’t Gideon told them last summer that the Continuascope had been found lying beside the Fault Line entrance on the night his wife disappeared? “Are you certain?”
“Why do you ask? Do you know something I don’t…?” Octavio, who had been leaning forward, suddenly and violently waved a hand in Tyler’s face. “Wait! No, don’t tell me! I don’t want to know!” A moment later he smiled, almost embarrassed. “Sometimes feel as if I negotiate with the Creator every day for the wonders that He allows me to see. I don’t want to ask too much and have Him take His business somewhere else.”
