Time Guards - The Italian Quest

Chapter I

Viola felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, she turned around, her bag swinging, to see another girl looking at her. This other girl stood on the museum steps, despite the summer weather she wore a dark hoodie, although a baseball cap was shading her eyes. Realising that they were both now looking at each other, the girl removed her cap. Viola felt like all the air had been taken out of her lungs, a second later she gulped down more and fixed her unbelieving gaze on the girl on the steps. They were identical, same dark hair, dark eyes and tanned olive skin. The girl even had her hair up in a ponytail just like Viola. She winked and then hurried up the steps in the museum.

Viola took a step forward to follow her but stopped. Her house was only one bus ride away, the weekend lay before her. Kristen and Erika would be coming round that evening, she was going to watch a film with Kristen. She'd bought pop-corn especially. Yet if she went into the museum she be confronting a stranger - who looked just like her. Still wondering what to do, Viola ran towards the museum, pigeons flying fearfully out of her path.

"Wait up," she called vainly to the girl, who was going through the double doors. By the time Viola reached them, she just saw the girl's back retreating into the Ancient History section. Viola passed the donations box, no longer running but still walking fast, she went after the girl, quickly glancing at the cardboard Sarcophagus which stood just outside of the doorway the girl had entered.

Viola searched the various lines of artefacts for the girl, after a few minutes when she was about to decide that the girl must have hidden from her deliberately, Viola found her standing calmly between a small figurine of a Pharaoh and a model of an Ancient Mayan Temple. Viola had hoped that when she saw the girl again she would find some flaw in their symmetry but they remained as identical as before.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," said the girl, calmly.

"Tell me who you are," Viola demanded, her voice shaking, "I - we're identical. Which is impossible. But I'm -"

"You're adopted," the girl finished, then she corrected herself, "We're adopted. This is going to be hard believe, and I know you are going to think I'm lying, but I'm you. I am Viola Wilson, born 10th October 1999, or sort of," she frowned but then relaxed her face, "I am you, from the future. Just under a year to be precise, 11 months."

"That's impossible."

"I knew you'd say that," she explained herself, "I've already had this conversation. One year ago I stood exactly where you are now, talking to my future self."

"You're mad," said Viola, turning towards the door.

"That makes you mad as well," the girl called, "Come on, Viola, are you seriously going to walk away from someone who looks just like you?!" Viola paused for a second, but then took a step towards the door.

"You speak fluent French," said the girl in a panicky voice, "You hate sprouts and you have a scar on your left shoulder."

Viola gave a triumphant smile and turned around, "If you've already had this conversation then you know I leave, so what's the point in telling me to stay?"

"Time travel," the girl waited for a response and then shrugged, "That will be quite funny in a week or two," she paused, "I'm only saying what I remember the 'girl' telling me a year ago. And it is working - we are still talking." She pulled the neck of her T-shirt and hoodie down to reveal a large scar on her shoulder, a scar from being badly burnt.

"What do you want?" Viola asked, her own hand edging towards the identical burn marks on her own shoulder, "Or have you only come to confuse me."

"I've come to tell you do something. You are going to meet a man, it will be while till you do, but when you see him you have to save his life."

Viola didn't reply for a second, that statement had been rather unexpected. Then she spoke, "I would always try to save someone's life, I don't need to be told to."

"I know, but you might not want to save this man's life and it might be very hard. Part of the reason I did it was because I was told to. I can't tell you who he is," said the girl, "But I can show you what he looks like." She handed over a piece of rough paper, drawn it was the profile of a man. He was no older than thirty with a thin face and very short dark hair.

"You need to save his life," repeated the girl, "You just need to, no matter how hard, regardless of whether you want to or not."

"I promise," said Viola, saying the words before she really committed to them. The girl just nodded. Then she drew an old-fashioned pocket watch out from her jacket, it looked like it was gold plated but the girl was obscuring it from Viola's gaze, holding her hand over the lid as she opened it.
"Time travel," she said again, realising Viola was wondering why she was hiding the watch, "I need to go, I can't change your future, my past. Just remember that our dad, Oliver, loves us and you might want to check out the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet."

"Wait," said Viola, as the girl started turning various small dials on the side of her watch, "Why should I believe you?"

"Because very soon I am going to be the most logical thing in your life."

Before Viola could protest the girl pushed the final dial and held the watch tight. She then disappeared into thin air. Viola gasped, and looked around but there was no sign of her. The girl, the other Viola, had just vanished.