Part 30: Crossing the Crossroads
They'd been chasing their tails looking for that damn arrow for three days.
Three very long days.
Even Ruda was beginning to show the wear of trying to keep a low profile after what may have been an inadvertent slip-up giving away a future secret of humungous proportions, or a "slip" that may have been one of the Reece's Pieces leading them all right into Big Badness.
Given the possibility that all of this might be a con to lure them all into a trap, and that one Xander Harris was one of the lead mice walking into it, a certain one-eyed someone found himself trying his best not to suggest that Willow turn the Sunlamp of Interrogation on the lot of them. He didn't even want to think about the possibility that any of these people might actually be from the future, because then he'd be chanting, "Go, Willow, go!" for sure.
Didn't help that the only person still given free reign to talk to people was the Annoying Blonde One with the Funky Wardrobe and Freaky Plastic Pad. Frankly, if Xander had to deal one more second with Riki-Tiki-Tikri, he was going to find the biggest demonic snake in the greater metropolitan Cleveland area and feed her to it. He knew she was just doing her job, but the never-ending questions coupled with the enigmatic smile she gave him with every answer was driving him up the wall.
And why the hell did she give a rat's ass about him anyway? Like he gave a flying shit if people in the future found out he wasn't exactly the best candidate for –sen hood, -rah hood, the neighborhood, or any other kind of hood.
About the only good thing he could see is that the whole situation drove Robin nuts. That's not to say their little reporter wasn't bugging him too, but the fact that everyone else from Future Space wasn't enamored of the son of a Slayer and even went so far as to pretend they had no clue who Robin Wood was or what role he played in the battle against the First was enough to cause their self-appointed leader to pull his hair out.
Too bad he didn't have any hair because that would've been fun to watch. Because a frustrated, distracted Robin was a Robin not taking potshots at Xander.
Xander humped his way into the Future Home of the Watcher's Library and Resource Center and flopped in a chair. "You know, it might be a whole lot fucking easier if Catherine would let us look at her book," Xander announced.
"Amen," Willow muttered.
"We can't do that," J'Nal corrected from his station at Willow's left elbow. "The purity of the timeline must be maintained."
"Oh, like your presence in Cleveland 2003 hasn't already screwed things up," Xander said with frustration. "Seems to me that you guys haven't done anything right."
"Circumstances…"
"Yeah, yeah, beyond your control, got it," Xander waved an irritated hand. "But this is getting us nowhere. You've given us all the clues to find your special arrow and we're finding nothing. Nada. How do you even know that we got all the information we needed to find this thing? Because, I gotta tell ya, your track record on knowing the little details that count really stinks. Hell, you can't even pronounce Sunnydale right."
Willow's and J'Nal's heads whipped around and they fixed Xander with the kind of look that warned he'd stepped over the line.
He really didn't care.
"Jesus, you'd think we're gonna take all this top secret info and build the ultimate weapon or something," he ranted. "It's five fucking years in the future. I really doubt all that much is going to change in the Slaying life in that short time. It's not like I'm saying 'all your base are belong to us' and to cough up technology we wouldn't even know how to use. I just want a goddamn roadmap to get you sent back to wherever the hell you came from."
J'Nal swallowed hard and dropped his eyes. "Of course, Harris-rah. As you wish."
Xander snarled in frustration, although he wasn't sure if it was over the Harris-rah bit or because no one had started insisting that someone from the Cleveland crew take a crack at the journal that held all the clues.
A slow grin spread across Willow's face. "Thank you," the redhead sincerely said. "I've been telling my witchy friend here the same thing for the past two days. If I knew all I needed was for you to yell at him, I would've dragged you in here sooner."
"It hasn't been decided yet," J'Nal quickly said. "I do need to consult with…"
"Catherine. Yeah, yeah," Xander said. "But maybe you better point out that she's already screwed and she can't possibly make it any worse by showing us that journal."
***
"This is it. The big one," Charlie remarked from Catherine's right.
"What are you going to do?" Ruda asked from Catherine's left.
"We're getting nowhere," J'Nal said trying to hide his fear. "What if we're not meant to find it yet?"
Ms. Tikri huddled miserably in the corner, watching the debate through woebegone eyes.
"I don't know what to do," Catherine admitted.
The five of them sunk into depressed silence. They were frozen between a crash landing and space vacuum. The universe was holding its breath. The moment was balanced on the head of a pin.
It couldn't last.
Ms. Tikri, of all people, was the one who knocked it all out of whack.
"I-I-I'm not going to pretend I know a thing about time travel," she uncharacteristically stuttered, her voice alto-low. "But, while we're here, is time standing still back there?"
All eyes turned to J'Nal. "I don't know," he admitted.
"What's the most likely possibility?" the witnesser asked.
"And what does that have to do with anything?" Charlie asked.
"Everything," Catherine answered for him as she looked up at J'Nal. "Please answer Ms. Tikri's question."
J'Nal let out a quiet huff of breath. "The best guess, the most likely answer, is that time is going forward normally. For every Taran day here, one standard day—maybe more or maybe less because the days don't match up precisely—passes."
"So we may be stuck here for more than seven days?" Charlie was calm as he asked the question, but Catherine knew he was keeping his nervousness under tight control. Hada, she was doing it, so it was a good bet that everyone was.
"More like eight Taran days because I want to be certain that the portal doesn't open too soon at the other end and cause problems. Eight-and-a-half to be really safe," J'Nal admitted.
"Every day here is another day when…" Ruda began. She looked at Catherine. "It happens so fast. What if the Great Darkness descends on another planet while we're here?"
"May have already happened," Tikri pointed out, "that is, if the attacks happen as quickly as reports make it seem."
"So, what you're saying is that because time is passing at the same rate in our own time, speed is of the essence," Catherine slowly said.
"Or when we go back, we show up five minutes after we left," J'Nal said, "Or we may show up…"
"Years after we left," Charlie finished for him.
"I still can't believe someone thought this was a good idea before some of these basic questions got answered," Ms. Tikri mumbled.
"Desperate times," Charlie reminded her without heat.
"Desperate times where the human race is running out of time," J'Nal agreed.
"So, if we do nothing and keep going the way we are, we may find out we don't have a home to go back to because we were too cautious and wasted time," Ms. Tikri said in an effort to make sure the concept was clear in her mind. "Or, if we throw caution to the wind, we still may not have a home to go back to because we destroyed the timeline and the future isn't our future."
"In a nutshell," Charlie rubbed his temples.
"Yes, that does about sum it up," J'Nal nodded.
All eyes turned to Catherine and she could feel her stomach clench. The future was slipping through her clenched fists like fine grains of sand. No matter what she did, no matter how she turned, no matter what decision she made, she and her team kept getting backed into a corner. All they could do was watch helplessly as the situation kept spinning ever more out of control.
It was almost as if the universe was forcing them right down this path—a path that would ultimately mean the destruction of everyone and everything that she loved.
Do nothing and hope for the best.
Do something and hope for the best.
She was the only one who could stand at this crossroads and make this decision.
"The Founders have mercy on my soul," she prayed.
"One of them has spoken," Charlie said quietly, "and last I checked he wasn't showing you any mercy at all."
TBC…