The Infinity Bridge

Epilogue

It was a surprisingly warm day for early March and the low sun seemed to bestow an energy and vibrancy to the ancient stones of EdinburghCastle. Sam was sitting on the ruins of a wall. He looked over the parapets at the city far below and watched the tiny figures crossing Princes Street.

What is this like in Bourneville’s alternate? Or Merlin’s? What if there is an alternate in which the Scottish won their eternal struggles against the English? What would the castle be like then?

There was struggle enough in this alternate for his curiosity. Sam unrolled the paper he had bought at the station shop. The headline turned his stomach, but it was all part of the cover story—no pun intended.

‘Valiant Inspector dies fighting terror threat.

‘Tributes were being paid today to DCI Barton of the Metropolitan Police’s  Special Operative Unit 99. Barton lost his life during an unprecedented attack on the famous Jodrell Bank facility in Cheshire. Sources speculate that the attack was aimed at destroying the iconic telescope which some consider to be a national monument.

‘Five personnel at the facility were also killed in the attack prior to the arrival of the anti-terrorist squad. Injuries were also sustained by SO99 operatives in the assault, although sources say that they are making a recovery. The terror threat had been linked by SO99 to two murders in York over the weekend, one of which closed the station for an entire day.’

There was a poorly focused photograph of a funeral. Sam could make out Andrew Preston stood stoically by the grave side, flanked by high ranking police officers, and with a pretty woman who he surmised was Sinead.

Memories of Albert’s funeral wormed into his mind. He had loitered uneasily on the fringes of the gathering in the Almston Parish church, not knowing what to say to Annie. She had stood like an obsidian statue, attired in black, at the front of the chapel. She had not flinched as Gaynor had read the eulogy nor shed a tear when the coffin was lowered into the grave afterwards.

Sam had nervously approached her, whilst Nick and Gaynor chatted to villagers in the foyer of the chapel. She was alone, her face shaded by an old-fashioned black hat.

‘Sam,’ she said, with a faint smile. ‘You’ve dyed your hair black again. Just for today?’

‘No, I...’ then he’d paused, realising her joke. ‘I’m sorry that Albert got... well, got killed.’

Annie nodded. ‘There is no sorrow in his sacrifice. He dedicated his life to protecting our alternate and it was fitting he die a hero.’

Sam nodded. ‘What now?’

‘Would you believe I am going to live with Gaynor and Nick?’

His expression obviously indicated that he didn’t.

‘Well, as Merlin leads me to believe, we are all family now... kind of. Which presents a real dilemma.’