The Indigo King - James A. Owen [117]
“It—it’s good to see you, Bert,” Jack said, before his voice finally cracked and he collapsed, sobbing, into the old man’s arms. Bert held his friend, not talking, until the sun rose.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Bird and Baby
Utterly unbelievable,” Charles said.
He returned to England from Paris on Monday, and John and Jack arranged for a meeting in Jack’s rooms the following Thursday, so that Charles could come up from London and hear the entire incredible story of what had happened to them.
“Unbelievable,” Charles repeated, pouring himself a second glass of rum. “I can’t decide if I’m more envious that I missed out, or grateful that I didn’t have to go through it all myself.”
“You did experience it, in a manner of speaking,” said John, who was draped comfortably over the back of a chair. “At the end, Chaz had become very much like you.”
“That’s fascinating,” Charles said. “I’ve been theorizing about the possibility that different worlds, different dimensions, do in fact exist. Changing the timeline is exactly the kind of method that could be used to travel to those other dimensions.”
“Thanks anyway,” said Jack, “but I think I like this dimension just fine.”
“But don’t you see?” Charles exclaimed. “You aren’t in the same dimension you started from.”
Jack sat upright. “What are you talking about, Charles?”
“You may have prevented the Winterland,” Charles said matter-of-factly, “but you did in fact alter the past, and with that change, you affected everything that followed.
“All we knew of the original Green Knight was that he was a Crusader,” Charles explained, “but in taking Chaz back, who was from a present that wasn’t your own, you inserted a new element into a past that was. You also ensured Arthur’s rule—but it came about thirty years later than you say it happened in our Histories.”
“You can check that for yourself,” said John.
“I have,” replied Charles, “and the events happened as you told me they did, after your trip. But that’s not how I remember reading about them before.”
“You’re remembering incorrectly, then.”
“No,” Charles said. “I just remember it differently.”
“This is all making my skull hurt,” said John. “All this talk of multiple dimensions and whatnot. Are you saying you’re not, in fact, ‘our’ Charles?”
“I’m saying,” he replied patiently, “that there are an infinite number of worlds, with an infinite number of each of us in them. There are worlds where we never met. There are worlds where we never became Caretakers. And there are worlds where we might have been lesser men than we are. It may even be possible for the traits of a man in one world to be passed to his twin in another, and vice versa. That might account for Chaz’s ability to learn languages so swiftly. He wasn’t learning so much as drawing on the abilities I already have.”
“Does that mean you might start assimilating Chaz’s mannerisms?” asked Jack. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“I like to think,” Charles replied, “I have hope, that in all of those worlds, there would remain in each of us the potential to choose to better ourselves. And isn’t knowing that, believing in that, the most important thing?”
John nodded and raised his glass. “To Chaz.”
Jack and Charles raised their glasses too. “To Chaz.”
“I’d still like to find out,” Charles said as he drained his glass, “who sent this to me and started everything.”
He moved over to Jack’s table, where the Grail book lay, and traced the image on the cover with his fingers. “It’s a shock discovering what the true Histories are,” he said wryly, “but at the same time, it’s comforting to know that fictionalizing our adventures didn’t just begin with Bert.”
“Geoffrey was quite the tall-tale teller,” said Jack. “You’d have had a wonderful time exchanging Grail lies, I’m sure.”
“Yes, but Bert did it out of necessity, to protect the Archipelago,” said Charles. “Geoffrey seems to have done it just for a lark.”
“Speaking of Bert,” John said as he checked the time on his watch, “we’d best be hurrying along if we’re to be