THE NIGHT OF THE ICE COLD DEATH
By Andamogirl
WWW
ACT THREE
Part two
Later
Showing Jim a 9 inch flint spearhead he held in his palm, Artie said, "Silver Cloud would be proud of me." "I showed the hunters how to make a spearhead and in no time a man called Araj-iit-olk - I hope I pronounced his name correctly - produced this. I'm really impressed. It took me a whole week to be able to perfect a single arrow head." He lifted it, ran his finger along its sharp edge and added, "It's a perfect tool. You see the point is thin, with a lanceolate shape, the sharp sides produced with percussion flaking are parallel to convex, the base is concave for better aerodynamics and better penetration into the flesh… and there's a groove on each side of the point going from the base to its half. The grooves permit the points to be fastened to wooden spears… They will hunt much better with this, and make a knife with a handle of wood, or bone to cut the meat more easily…"
Taking the point to observe it closely, Jim said, "Well done Artie. This invention - that you started, is going to make their life easier."
Nodding distractedly, Artemus looked at the mouth of the big cave lit and warmed by a dozen fires. Outside the wind was roaring and the snow was flying about fiercely.
He stayed like that for one minute, immobile, watching the snow falling without seeing it, absorbed in his thoughts, oblivious to the world around him.
He came back to earth when he felt a jolt of pain in his chest, and hand on his butt, and glared at Nee-at-tepo pressed against his side.
But she didn't remove her hand – and grinned.
He took Jim by his arm and moved away much to the burly woman's chagrin. "Let's go somewhere else, before she jumps on my bones, literally." He heard Jim chuckle. "That's not funny…" He sighed. "I prefer to make my own moves, and anyway we have an assignment."
Nodding Jim sighed. "It's a bit compromised I believe."
His chest aching, Artie smiled. "Not necessarily. I maybe have a solution for how to go back home… no, it's more like an intuition, and mine are always right. Not that these people are not welcoming - we could have been killed by another clan - but Nee-at-tepo jumped on my bones – literally." He took a deep breath. He was perspiring and had pains in his chest. Then he added, "Tell me Jim, what happened after Jack Maitland-me died?"
Jim responded, "I felt numb, lost, and cold. I couldn't think or feel anything. You were dead. Then I took you in my arms and that mist appeared coming out from nowhere and that black void re-appeared…"
Holding his aching left arm, Artie nodded. "The portal between the two dimensions, ours and the fourth opened and you left, holding me."
His look haunted by that memory, Jim nodded, "Yes, I did… holding your dead body in my arms was the most difficult time in my whole life…" He smiled. "But you came back to life."
It was Artie's turn to nod. "We left because my mission in the past as Jack Maitland was over – whatever it was – and yours too, because you had found me to bring me back 'home'."
Puzzled Jim frowned. "Mission? What mission?"
Moving his hand to his chest, where it hurt, above his heart, Artie said, "I became Jack Maitland for a specific reason, Jim, but I still don't know what is – for now. He winced and added, "And we came here among these primitive people for a specific reason too, and I don't know what it is. But I do know that something, when it is done, will return us home. Like we already did after I was shot in the stomach. We'll end up on the other side of the door, out of the misty void, in Loveless's hideout, both alive and ready to resume our assignment."
Rubbing his stubbled jawline pensively, Jim said, "It's an interesting theory…and a plausible one. As I see no other possible explanation ... okay, it was a mission. Then, once back home, you'll ask Vautrain what your mission was, because you don't remember it, and the truth, not another lie."
Feeling his knees wobbling, going weak, Artie slid to the floor, landing on his butt on a thick fur. "It's the beginning," he said, head low, clutching a hand to his heart, struggling to breathe.
His brow furrowed in deep worry Jim sat down beside Artie and took his best friend's hand in his. "The beginning of what?" He asked.
Feeling dizzy and nauseous, Artie raised his head to wipe away at the sweat dripping down his forehead and he said, "A heart-attack. My stay in the glass box probably weakened my heart, and the last bout of hypothermia made things worse… I know the symptoms. I already had a heart attack once, at my mom's home… but this time Dr. Henderson won't be here to save me."
Shaking his head, Jim said, "I will."
Shaking his head too, Artie said, "No. CPR won't work, Jim, my heart is too badly damaged. I'm dying. There's nothing to be done. It shouldn't be long now… I have only a few minutes left, no more." He shot a weak but reassuring smile at Jim seeing his partner become pale and aghast. He added, "I won't stay dead. And… Vautrain has nothing to do with the missions. He opened the portal between the two dimensions to send us into the past where and when he wanted us to go. When he sent you - I don't know where – in the 1830s where he had sent me before, he knew that we would eventually meet. He was expecting it, expecting our return together and it did happen. But he didn't plan I would lose my memory, somehow, he didn't plan I would meet someone looking exactly like you who would insult me, that I would fight a duel with you thinking that you were than other man, that I would be shot… but someone else did."
Puzzled, Jim frowned. "Who?"
Artemus paused feeling like he had run miles, chest heaving for breath. "It was Fate with a big F. Vautrain used us first as guinea pigs to see if he could transport people into the past – and he thought he did, but didn't actually. It was Time. And then, he sent us here, about 10,000 years before Christ to be sure to get rid of us… and I'm sure he thinks we both died from hypothermia. He's not the one who gave us missions. Fate did. We had to go there to do what we did and we had to go here to do what Fate has planned for us. Everything is written. Don't worry. I'm sure Fate will resuscitate me, like it did bring me back to life when I was Jack Maitland, because Fate has plans for me and you in the future. I'm sure of it."
Blinking, very surprised, Jim let out, "Fate?"
His face ashen, chest pains spiking, sweat pouring off of him, Artie said, "Yes, Fate. It exists. You know that I'm open-minded. I believe in God, but that doesn't prevent me from acknowledging the existence of the Great Spirit, for example, because it protects me and it has proved it several times. Then if it exists, why Fate wouldn't exist either? I'm sure it exists, because everything happens for a reason. And I think there's a god playing with us here too, Time, with a big T."
Surprised Jim lifted an eyebrow. "Really?"
His breathing labored, Artie nodded. "Yes, really. I'm sure it exists. Classical… and European mythology feature personified fate. Take for example… the Morai in Greek Mythology, often known in English as the Fates or the Parcae or Fata in Roman mythology, Fata meaning prophetic declaration, oracle, or destiny. Those deities controlled… the mother thread of life of every mortal from birth to death. They directed fate, and watched that the fate assigned to every being by eternal laws might take its course without obstruction…" He paused to take a series of deep breaths and added, "I have a theory. Colonel Vautrain told you the truth… when he said he didn't know where you were gone, and when. He can open the portal between our dimension and the fourth – namely: time… but that's all. He didn't manage the rest of the story, Fate and Time, yes. I wonder where he was able to send that bronze bust, and when. As Fate exists, Time as a sentient entity exists too. In Greek mythology, Chronos or Χρόνος, in ancient Greek is… is identified as the Personification of Time. Fate and time do the job, and Vautrain just open doors, portals. He doesn't control anything. Fate and Time do."
Jim nodded. "He has a fantastic power…"
Rubbing his aching temples, Artie nodded in his turn. "Yes, he has. But his power wouldn't work if Fate and Time didn't play their part. Besides, if he told us how he can send objects and people to voyage in the fourth dimension – time – using I quote, "a warp in the fabric of space", he wasn't too clear when he explained how he did open that 'break', speaking about Faith 'that can move the fabled mountains' and 'pin top power of the universe corralled in the human's mind'… because he doesn't know how it works – doesn't know who-what is opening that fourth dimension – Time - and why, Fate."
Not convinced, Jim said, "It's a very interesting explanation, Artie, but it's a bit hard to believe… Fate and Time existing?"
Artie started gulping air like a fish out of water, feeling his left arm going numb. "Yes, Fate… and… Time… exist, they… do." Slumping on his back bonelessly, his limbs not responding anymore, he breathed, "James my boy,… I know that you have a Cartesian spirit and that you like earthbound explanations… but sometimes, explanations are of a different nature, are well how could I call it… - supernatural – like the ghost of Caroline Day we met a few weeks ago."
Pulling Artie onto his lap – Jim remembered he had done that before with Jack Maitland-Artemus Gordon and he cringed. "Don't talk Artie… Keep your strength."
Closing his eyes for a few seconds then re-opening them Artie said, "I'm almost dead… there's no use in keeping my strength. I have lots of things to say before… before it's too late. "I was saying that… that you and I met a ghost… after I had that premonitory dream."
Jim nodded. "It was more than a premonitory dream, Artie, it really happened."
Devastated by Artie's condition, feeling totally helpless, Jim nodded. "It was a ghost Artie… a ghost that could control her house, control time in her house… a ghost that tried to kill you… But you're talking about a goddess and a god! There's a big difference here…"
His breathing was a bit better but Artemus knew it wouldn't last, unfortunately.
It was a short recess before the end.
He rasped, "Fate and Time sent me into the past, in the 1830s because I had something to do there, at that time… I don't know what, because I don't remember anything, but I will conduct my investigation when this whole story is over. Fate and Time sent you precisely where and when you could find me or Jack Maitland-me - so that we are together, again, because Fate chose us to be together, Jim, because Fate paired us that day, in Petersburg when you shot me, and Time helped, so you shot me precisely at the moment I ended up before the General. Because Fate chose us to accomplish things together. Fate brought me back to life in that passage between dimensions… and…" He smiled. "Time changed my clothes before you brought me back to our time… because it likes order and things ordered. It found that my clothes were not appropriate to my time and it dressed me in the same clothes that I wore when Vautrain kidnapped me… Speaking of Vautrain he didn't do anything. He's a liar and he's not as powerful as he pretends he is."
Still doubtful, Jim nodded. "Okay…so it was Time which allowed Vautrain to travel back in time so he could try to kill General Grant?"
Ghostly pale and clammy, Artie nodded. "Yes. And Fate sent that shell through the wall… and that beam fell on Vautrain's legs, crippling him again. It was his destiny. Everything is written Jim. It was written that we would stop him before he did what he had planned to do, so Grant could live. That's why Time gave Vautrain his legs back, so he could walk and open that hidden ammunition stash…"
Frowning, now puzzled, Jim nodded. "Okay, and Fate let his men and him leave the burning manor before it exploded. Why?"
Rubbing his aching left arm, Artie responded, "So that all this story with Loveless and Vautrain – who had vanished from the surface of the earth - happens, and so that we can arrest him – and Loveless too, I hope."
Rubbing his stubbled chin pensively, Jim asked, "And why did Vautrain became younger and we didn't? Do you have an explanation?"
Suddenly the bulky woman placed a heavy, thick fur cloak on Artie's shoulders and offered him a piece of burnt meat.
He shook his head, the pain in his chest was getting worse, it was excruciating, unbearable. "Well, like Shakespeare wrote, in the Merchant of Venice, "I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, and mine a sad one. Act one, scene one. And he wrote "As you like it," a pastoral comedy, and this famous speech comparing the world to a stage and life to a play, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts…" Fate, which was the Director of that play – and the Director of any play on earth, chose to give him the lead part, and us secondary roles. The main actors are always highlighted in the theater, with more makeup, beautiful and very colorful clothes… That's my explanation."
He clutched his chest right above his heart and grimaced as the violent, terrible, pain radiated through him, from his pounding heart down his arm.
He squeezed his eyes closed as he felt a pressure on his chest that increased. "Goodbye J'm… see you…" he rasped, as the pain tightened even more around his heart.
His head hung limp and he darkness overcame him. He slid to the side and his rolling eyes became glassy in death.
Suddenly a mist coming out from nowhere appeared around the two agents – scaring the Paleo-Indians who fled the cave, screaming in terror.
Taking Artemus's body in his arms, Jim said, "We'll see what comes next…" and he and his dead partner, enveloped in fogginess, vanished.
Tbc.