Tales of Time and Travel (LGBT)

Ban the Baguette! (Part Two)

A young woman wearing a white labcoat, her blonde hair tied back under a cap, paused in her work to watch the scene unfolding on her mini e-scroll, broadcast by the tiny camera she had hidden in the lab. She held her breath as she waited for Chaucer's reply.

"I'll give you 24 hours to come to terms with my decision, but that's all. Now, you'll have to excuse me, I have work to do."

Her heart thudded. Only 24 hours! So little time! Hastily, she smoothed the anxious frown from her forehead, returned the e-scroll to her pocket and picked up the beaker she had been filling.

"Sorry I was late this morning, Dr Chaucer," she apologised as he entered the room. "There was another march and they closed off the whole of Oxford Street."

"Can't be helped, Meg," Chaucer replied, shortly. "I had a meeting, in any event. Now, let's get to work, we've wasted enough time today."

~~~

Michel and Cate fidgeted nervously in the dimly lit room as they waited for the third member of their team to arrive. It was rare for them all to gather in the same place these days but Margot had sent the m'aidez signal, their code for "emergency." A soft knock at the door had Michel on his feet. He peered cautiously through the spyhole before opening the door. A tall blond woman with a scarf over her head, hurried inside and they hugged briefly.

"What's the problem?" asked Cate, unable to wait any longer.

"They're closing down the time machine," answered Margot, or Meg, as Dr Chaucer knew her.

"What? You mean it doesn't work after all?" A rush of scalding disappointment flooded through Michel. All their planning. All their dreams.

"Oh it works all right. We don't know exactly what the last transit did, but he changed history. Seems it works too well and Chaucer has got cold feet. They're dismantling it—we have 24 hours."

"That's too soon!" The protest leapt from Cate's lips. "I'm not ready."

"I'm afraid it's now... or never," answered Margot, her tone flat.

Michel looked from one to the other. "It has to be tonight, doesn't it? We can't wait, not even until tomorrow."

Margot nodded. "You're right. If we're going to do it at all, we need to go now." She smiled wryly. "Cate, I think we're as ready as we need to be. It's not as if we have to pack! All we need is the micro-chip—and ourselves."

"But I wanted to say good-bye," blurted Cate.

The other two looked at her. Sadly.

~~~

Nervous fingers fumbled briefly with the key before fitting it into the lock and opening the heavy door. His blood was pounding so loudly in his ears he could hardly think. So close! Fear and excitement battled for supremacy as he hurried along the corridor to the laboratory where the TMD was kept. He didn't know what would happen, but he'd made up his mind. He was going to take the risk.

His hand was already reaching for the handle when he heard the siren. What the fuck? Someone was using the time machine! Someone else was using the time machine, stealing his opportunity. He burst into the room, letting the door slam back against the wall, all need for stealthy caution blown to the winds.

The red light was flashing. He was too late.

"No!" Wild eyed, Murdoch ran to the machine and pounded on the door, so hard it shook. "No! It was my turn! Come out of there, you—"

~~~

Michel, Cate and Margot stood in the middle of a cabbage patch, blinking in confusion. They seemed to be standing in a vegetable garden. A small wooden building stood on one side, surrounded by a farmyard with hens scrabbling in the dirt.

Where the fuck were they? Not even the wildest imagination could pretend this was a medieval castle.

"Where the hell are we? I thought we were supposed to arrive at the castle of Chinon, in the Loire valley?" Cate demanded.

Margot shook her head. "I have no idea. I felt something just before we left... maybe..." She shook her head again, trying to grapple with the disaster.

"Perhaps Chinon is nearby," suggested Michel. "This farm might be somewhere in the grounds." They all looked around but could see nothing resembling a castle. "We have to find the King! All our research shows this is the turning point. We have to give him the strategy micro-chip so he can defeat the English," he continued. "We can't have come all this way for nothing!" He sounded on the verge of tears.

Margot, usually so decisive, couldn't think what to do. They were still standing there in the middle of the vegetable garden when a young girl came out of the farm house.

She stared, open-mouthed, but instead of screaming and running back inside, she came toward them.

"Who are you?" she asked. Her accent was so thick they could scarcely understand her. "Where did you come from?"

"That's Michel, Catherine, and I'm Margot, and we're from, er... another place."

"The Holy Saints be praised!" the girl fell to her knees. "A miracle!"

Cate eyed her uneasily.

"Can you tell us where we are?" asked Michel, still focussed on their objective. "How far are we from Chinon?"

"Chinon?"

"Where King Charles is staying."

The girl looked bewildered. "I don't know. Many miles, I think. The other side of the country. But the King died three years ago."

The three travellers looked at each other. "What year is this?" asked Cate.

"We are in the year of our Lord, 1425."

"Too soon!" cried Michel. "Not only are we in the wrong place but we're four years too early. Charles is still the Dauphin—not yet King—and the siege of Orleans hasn't even started."

"How will we live? We have no money, we don't speak the language properly and our clothes are all wrong. Besides, I don't think I'll survive here for four weeks let alone four years. I feel really bad." Cate pressed a hand to her queasy stomach.

"We'll find a way, even if we have to walk there! We simply can't waste this opportunity," insisted Margot. "What the—?"

She stared at Cate. Her whole body had turned transparent for a moment. Margot felt sick. They'd known full well the TMD was still in the early developmental stages, but... Too late to complain now.

"We'll have to improvise," she announced in determined tones. "It's obvious we won't be able to get to Charles ourselves. We'll have to give the microchip to this young lass, and hope for the best. Cherie, we have an important task for you. In four years time, when you are grown, you will need to make your way to the side of Charles the seventh. You will guide him to victory over the English and drive them from our land."

"Me? My lady?" squeaked the girl in astonishment. "I'm just a peasant girl, how will I guide the King of France?"

"Come here," beckoned Margot, holding the micro-chip in her fingers. "I have something that will help you. Stand still a moment."

Before the girl realised what was happening, Margot inserted the micro-chip into the side of her temple. "There. Listen to what it tells you."

By then, both she and Michel were flickering in and out and Cate had almost faded away completely. Evidently their time here was almost up.

One last thing. Margot gazed earnestly at the young girl, trying to impress on her the importance of the task, even though she knew in her heart that it was hopeless.

"If all goes well, you will be France's saviour. What's your name, cherie?"

"Jeanne. Jeanne D'Arc."