Boundless Hearts Read online

Bronia Magnahul stood statuesque in wait, rendered invisible by her black outfit and the shadows of the subterranean vault. The concealed door in Philip's throne room creaked open, pushed by the burly guards in need of exercise. Light fell into the unused artery of the Chateau, no doubt for the first time since it was built. Bronia could smell the extravagance of the throne room overcome the musk and damp of the dungeon.

  Careful to not allow the light that poured in to alert the small entourage of her presence, she crouched behind the pillar across them. With the three guards manhandling the door, the cowardly king began his solitary journey toward the liberty he believed existed at the end of the tunnel. Bronia let him advance leaving his guards behind.

  After considerable effort, the three managed to push the stubborn door back into place. The tunnel now returned to its featureless darkness. The men stumbled as their eyes had not yet grown accustomed to the lack of light in their king’s testament to cowardice.

  “No Highlander would ever build such a tunnel for the purpose of running away,” she thought.

  All the guards could feel as Bronia catapulted from her crouched position and accelerated toward the man in kingly robes was the sudden swirl of air. A horse length behind the stumbling king she leaped into the air, her dagger still safe in its scabbard, she grabbed his head, using his neck as a fulcrum and executed a graceful pirouette that snapped his neck. The snap told her she could release him from her hold, and she did, continuing her approach to a soft landing on the gravel underfoot. She landed a horse’s length in front of the dead sovereign and kept sprinting to the egress by the lake.

  King Philip was dead. Few French lives were lost, even fewer Highlanders and Lowlanders. The tide of history had turned to the efforts of the righteous.

  Chapter 8

  Gray Times

  P ietre's resolve to allow the forces of nature to wash over the sins of his efforts seemed like a good idea to Nadia. She had made peace with the fact that time was about to wash away all she had done, and all that she was, into the abyss. He had decided that he would spend as much time with her as he could and the two returned to the foothills of the Himalayas. By the time they reached, large swaths of the peaks had been covered with snow.

  Nadia knew that the time was nigh but she was grateful for the times she had shared with the love of her life and the ability to experience the universe the way she could with her mind and the five senses that it relied on.

  Gray had done a superb job of calculating the exact moment the time trunks would merge and Nadia would cease to exist. It happened down to the last microsecond. Because of the epiphysis cerebri shield, Pietre could still remember Nadia. But there were no external artifacts to remember her by. It was not like she died and yet her things remained. She had never existed, so even her perfume that he was so used to was no longer on his clothes. The photos they took together, the children they had, the world they built, all ceased to exist. It was as though his memory of her was a fantasy. No amount of tears can wash away that kind of pain and emptiness.

  All he could do now was wait till his time came and the shield that blocked the part of his brain from temporal changes would cease to exist, allowing him to forget. But it never came. It was like a man tortured to the extreme waiting for the liberation that death eventually brings.

  He sat at the balcony in Darjeeling, the place he first noticed the changes caused by the crashing time trunks. He couldn’t invoke Gray to find out because he no longer had access to the company’s assets. He had quit the Time Force and was no longer allowed access. But he still had friends.

  “Councilman Daniels, it’s Kravis Pietre. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time.”

  “Professor Pietre, certainly. How is Nadia?”

  Pietre felt the question to be insensitive but sincere. “She no longer exists, Councilman.”

  “I am sorry to hear that. I didn’t realize the time had come. What can I do for you?”

  “I was curious. It has been some time and I was under the impression the Gray would have ceased to exist. I only ask because my shield is still functional.”

  The councilman paused, uncertain of how to say what he had to say. He considered not saying anything but knew that Pietre was far too smart for that.

  “Do you still know anything about time travel?”

  “I only know what I remember of where I used to work, but I have no idea how time travel works. That is why I ask. Remembering who I was, but not being who I was is tormenting.”

  “Have you tried deactivating the shield?”

  “I don’t know how. I was hoping I would just forget since Gray would never have been invented, all this was supposed to have vanished. At least that is the memory of my understanding.”

  The councilman felt bad for the man who had actually built the system. He sounded like a man with degenerative brain disease.

  “Gray is still alive. In fact, she is more powerful than ever.”

  “How?”

  “I can’t tell you that. It is confidential. I will send a technician over to your home to help you deactivate it.”

  “I am in Darjeeling. Not at home.”

  “Stay where you are, we will send someone who will be there within forty-eight hours."

  Regardless of his current self in the new merged timeline, Pietre possessed intelligence surpassing most people. Nadia’s contribution to time travel was that she pushed him to do what he was able to do. Just because she was no longer there, it did not alter the intelligence that he still possessed. Gray was, after all, his creation.

  Since it was his creation, he still recalled that he had a back door into the system and a core command, one that was inviolable, that Gray would always answer to him. No one including Hagan knew about that. It was Nadia’s idea.

  He paused, still laboring under the intense pain of loss. It took significant energy and effort just to focus on tying his shoelace. Something as complex as AI manipulation was worse by a greater order of magnitude.

  Pietre pulled out his tablet. He couldn't invoke voice control with Gray, that had been blocked. He needed to establish a connection directly within the mainframe. He had to fight that lack of knowledge and force the memory. It was a difficult task that resulted in searing migraines, but he managed to recall the protocol to invoke the core command matrix.

  Once in, he pulled up the logs for the period that he had been out of the loop.

  “You’ve been busy,” he said whispering to himself. The sudden focus on the task had allowed him to forget the source of pain that caused him to trek down this path in the first place.

  Large requisitions of material and schematics were part of the logs. It looked similar to the pod that Hagan had designed – the one that he had with him in the fourteenth century. The only difference was that it was significantly smaller – the size of an ostrich egg. No person could fit in it and it didn’t seem to have the mechanism to open.

  Gray had realized that Hagan's design worked, and it was emulating it to increase the chances of success. The miniature pod carried a bevy of circuits and large quantities of data. Pietre did not understand what this was supposed to achieve.

  As he studied the logs and the blueprints it occurred to him that Gray was making an attempt to send a copy of itself to a location in the Scottish Highlands – to the coordinates the Hagan had landed. Hagan was now a part of present history. They were now on the same timeline. Pietre understood that if Gray succeeded in transporting itself to that point, then time travel would advance exponentially for a thousand years and alter the universe beyond recognition. It was not something that should be done.

  He had to stop it.

  Chapter 9

  Ascension

  T he tunnel was as dark as it was long. Bronia did not have a full comprehension of her destination. In a few moments, she would be at the destination the Alchemist had told her about. But beyond that, she had no idea what she was doing. She had slain the king and now she needed t
o reunite with her father. The events of the day were somehow comforting, at the same time defying all logic and reason.

  She only stopped once to detect if she was being chased. She wasn’t. But logic dictated that the guards who accompanied the king had no way out of the tunnel except via the egress that she would soon reach. She should not be in their way.

  When she got to the tunnel's end, she found herself near the reflecting pools that extended beyond what her sight could capture. There were stables on the perimeter of the garden and she could hear the mild neighing of horses. She exited to find that she had come quite a distance from the palace.

  Bronia accelerated into a sprint once again and made her way to the stables. The place was deserted, some horses already had saddles on them. Bronia mounted the first one she found, released its reins from the post it was tied to and galloped to the front of the Chateau. By this point, she could see the full breadth and extent of the armies that had marched against the French forces. They were in jubilant spirits and screaming.

  Bronia needed to find her father to let him know she was there, and all was well. He was not expecting her. She reached the front of the palace and saw a commander she knew who rode with Magnahul.

  “Where is Lord Magnahul?”

  “He has already entered the palace, my lady, he is with King Henry and the Alchemist."

  “Alchemist?” She could not get out of the loop in her head of the journey she just took from the tower in Inverness to the palace in Paris.

  Walking in, she could see her father across the chamber and made haste in his direction. Hagan was the first to see her.

  “Lord Magnahul," she said respectfully.

  Magnahul turned. “Bronia,” he said in shock. “What are you doing here?”

  Lord Henry was in a bit of a shock. He was expecting Bronia to be in Inverness, slaying Lord Barnacle. It was an important part of the plan. If Barnacle and Anstruthers were still alive it would jeopardize everything.

  “How is it you are here,” Lord Henry persisted.

  “I cannot explain, but do not be alarmed,” she said. “Lord Barnacle is dead. I witnessed it with my own eyes.”

  “Witnessed?" Magnahul was not sure how to interpret what she just said. "What do you mean, did you not kill him?"

  “No, my lord. He was already dead by the time I arrived in his chambers."

  “You are certain he is dead," Henry chimed in.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Well, then that is all we need to know."

  “I have also ended the life of the man you now seek.”

  “Whom do you speak of Bronia?"

  “King Philip.”

  “We are searching for him,” Lord Henry replied. “When did you kill him?”

  Bronia looked around the chambers and oriented herself based on the memory of the tunnel and the path she had taken. She walked around the chamber and made her way into the throne room. There were men who had been arrested by Magnahul's men.

  She couldn’t find what she was looking for. She unsheathed her dagger, and walked over to the man closest to her and slit his throat in full view of the man next to him.

  “I am in no mood to play games,” she said, in perfect French to the soldier who was aghast at seeing his comrade sprouting lifeblood from the side of his neck and gasping.

  “Where is the king’s tunnel entrance?”

  The man readily pointed to the panel. Bronia walked to it. It had not been fully closed after the men had tried to push it shut. Summoning three Magnahul solders, she told them to push the panel open. It did so almost effortlessly.

  Magnahul watched in amazement as his daughter led her father and Lord Henry to the limp body of the arrogant king.

  “You did this?” Henry asked. “How?”

  “With the help of the Alchemist.”

  Magnahul did not say a word. Hagan had been with him the entire time. How could he have helped her, Lord Magnahul wondered. But no one said anything. An outsider was present.

  As the four of them returned to the throne room, six riders that had been to Glasgow, returned to report to their lord.

  “Lord Magnahul, our mission is complete. As instructed, all are dead.”

  Magnahul cleared the room with instructions for the men to sweep through the entire Chateau Fountainbleu and arrest all soldiers. Place the queen, princes, and princesses in custody but to afford them the full privileges of their state.

  Only four of them remained.

  “Lord Henry of Monmouth, I wish you to be King of France.”

  Lord Henry was in utter disbelief at the generosity of the offer.

  “My lord, I think it is you who should be king.”

  Bronia and Hagan stood in silence. It was not their place to be in the presence of that conversation, much less make a comment of who is to be king.

  “I insist, my lord. It is time to bring true peace to this continent and the Isles. I will combine the high and low lands of the isles and make it the Kingdom of Scots. All of Inverness, Glasgow, Edinburgh, England, and Wales shall come under one flag of the kingdom."

  “Will you be king of this Kingdom then,” asked Lord Henry.

  “No.”

  All in attendance were in shock. Certainly, if he were to not be King of France and the Highlands, at least he should be King of the new kingdom.

  “As the first monarch of the Kingdom, I chose, as it is my right, my daughter, to be Queen Bronia Magnahul I of the Kingdom of Scots.”

  Bronia was confused but didn’t say anything in response. The honor her father had given her was one of great responsibility. She was to take all her father had taught her and apply it to the new kingdom.

  “What will you do Adelstan?” Henry was curious.

  “If you permit me, I would like to be the emissary between the Queen of Scots and the King of France.”

  Magnahul signaled for a rider to enter.

  “Make haste to Rouen. Signal one of the ships and tell them to take our people who are still out at sea, and land them in Inverness. That will be our new home and the capital of the kingdom. Send criers to the whole of France and claim the new king. We will conduct the coronation on the full moon hence.”

  Hagan watched as the new world was being birthed right before his very eyes. He understood that this is part of the new time trunk and it started with this event. The world would be better off in this track, he believed.

  Magnahul then turned to Hagan. "Come, young man, let us, you and I, walk the grounds of this palace. We have much to discuss."

  “Yes, my lord.”

  As they stepped out, twelve guards circled the two men. The grounds were still within a hostile territory and he may still be in danger. In the center of the twelve guards, the two men walked over the vast grounds of the palace in deep discussion with all that had happened that night.

  “What does my daughter mean that you helped her?"

  “Honestly, my lord, it is complicated."

  "With you, it always is," said the giant man who glowed more red when he was happy than when he was angry.

  “You helped us with your contraption...that carriage of yours somehow, I suspect. Something must have gone wrong and you helped us, I am certain of it."

  Hagan smiled. If only Magnahul knew. He dreaded to remember what had happened in that timeline.

  “Whatever your plans for me, my lord, may I humbly make a request?”

  “You want to be by Bronia's side."

  “How do you know?”

  “A father knows these things laddie. You are to be the Queen's Counsel. You will be next to her night and day and if the two of you should decide to wed, you will have my blessing."

  “When will we return to Inverness?”

  “You and Bronia will return at the head of the fleet. I must travel to meet with King Afolabi. He has done us a great service and I must meet with him in person and offer my gratitude. I will not return until the coronation."

  Within a fortnight al
l that Magnahul had designed had come to pass and the coronations of Henry in Paris and Bronia in Inverness were executed without incident and to great fanfare. The alteration of history that had a knock-on effect in the twenty-first century and beyond was now complete.

  Chapter 10

  North Ridge

  P ietre’s worst nightmare was coming to fruition. He had been subjected to the changes in time, but he could still remember the world as it was. He was neither a man of this trunk nor a man for the other. The agony of losing his friend and then his wife and children were beyond what he had the ability to bear.

  He realized that what he had to do would possibly get him in a lot of trouble, but it was worth the risk. He had to shut Gray down and the only way to do that was to execute a self-destruct virus within the core matrix. He got to work on it right away. By this point he had less than twelve hours to go before the technicians from Pittsburgh would arrive to deactivate the shield.

  He frantically coded a new virus into existence. Apparently, in his new life, he happened to be a coder and specialized in lethal technology viruses. It was a skill that was at the forefront of his mind. It came to him easily. The virus was lethal and designed to infiltrate the core of Gray and shut it down without being traced or repaired.

  When the virus was ready, he uploaded it to the core matrix and watched as the nodes began to meltdown. But it was not a smooth process. Gray detected that she was being infiltrated and began to put up a defense. Pietre had to modify the code in real-time and allow it to morph to overcome Gray's defenses. He had no idea, but he was destroying what he had once worked so hard to build.

  The intensity of the moment overwhelmed him and he eventually passed out. When he came around it was because he was freezing. It had started to snow outside. The forty-eight-hour time frame had come and gone but no one had come to deactivate his shield. He wouldn't have known them even if they had come.

  Pietre Kravis was just a hacker who lived in a small apartment overlooking the Himalayas. He would have tea with the mystics that meditated in the ashram close by and he would spend hours walking the trails. It snowed almost every night and the sky would turn clear and blue every morning. He could not imagine it any other way.