The Map of Time (Trilogía Victoriana #1)(32)

The two men spotted a few hollows which looked like they might be caves. Having no other plan, the two men decided to scale the slopes until they reached the nearest one. This did not take long. Once they had reached the pinnacle of a small mountain, they had a broader view of the plain. Far off in the distance the hole had been reduced to a bright dot on the horizon. They could see their way back waiting for them, acting for the moment as a guiding light. They were not worried the Reed People might close the hole, because they had taken the precaution of bringing what remained of the whiskey with them. It was then they noticed other bright dots shining in the distance. It was difficult to see clearly through the mist, but there must have been half a dozen of them. Were they other holes leading to other worlds? They found the answer in the very cave they intended to explore.

As soon as they entered it, they could see it was inhabited. There were signs of life everywhere: burnt-out fires, bowls, tools, and other basic implements—things Tremanquai had found so conspicuous by their absence in the Reed People’s village. At the back of the cave they discovered a narrower, darker enclosure, the walls of which were covered in paintings. Most depicted scenes from everyday life, and judging from the willowy rag doll figures, only the Reed people could have painted them. Apparently, that dark world was where they really lived. The village was no more than a temporary location, a provisional settlement, perhaps one of many they had built in other worlds. Kaufman and Austin did not consider the drawings of rustic scenes particularly significant.

But two caught their attention. One of these took up nearly an entire wall. As far as they could tell, it was meant to be a map of that world, or at least the part the tribe had succeeded in exploring, which was limited to the area near the mountains. What intrigued them was that this crude map marked the location of some of the other holes, and, if they were not mistaken, what they contained. The drawings were easy enough to interpret: a yellow star shape represented the hole, and the painted images next to them, their contents. At least this is what they deduced from the dot surrounded by huts, apparently representing the hole they had climbed through to get there, and the village on the other side, back in their world. The map showed four other openings, fewer than those they had glimpsed on the horizon. Where did they lead? Whether from idleness or boredom, the Reed people had painted only the contents of the holes nearest their cave. One of these seemed to depict a battle going on between two different tribes: one human-shaped, the other square and rectangular. The remainder of the drawings were impossible to make out. Consequently, the only thing Kaufman and Austin could be clear about was that the world they were in contained dozens of holes like the one they had come through, but they could only find out where any of them led if they passed through them themselves, for the Reed People’s scrawls were as mystifying to them as the dreams of a blind man. The second painting that caught their eye was on the opposite wall, and showed a group of Reed People running from what looked like a gigantic four-legged monster with a dragon’s tail and spikes on its back. Kaufman and Austin glanced at one another, alarmed to find themselves in the same world as a wild animal whose mere image was enough to scare the living daylights out of them. What would happen if they came across the real thing? However, this discovery did not make them turn back. They both had rifles and enough ammunition to kill a whole herd of monsters, assuming they even existed and were not simply a mythological invention of the Reed People. They also had whiskey, that marvelous drink that would fire up their courage, or at least turn the prospect of being eaten by an elephantine monster into a relatively minor nuisance. What more did they need? Accordingly, they decided to carry on exploring and set out for the opening where the battle was going on between the two different tribes, because it was closest to the mountains. The journey was grueling, hampered by freak sandstorms that forced them to erect their tent and take refuge inside if they did not want to be scoured like cooking pots. Thankfully, they did not meet any of the giant creatures. Of course, when they finally reached the hole, they had no idea how long it had taken them, only that the journey had been exhausting. Its size and appearance were identical to the one they had first stepped through into that murky world. The only difference was that instead of crude huts, inside this one was a ruined city. Scarcely a single building remained standing, and yet there was something oddly familiar about the structures. They stood for a few moments, surveying the ruins from the other side of the hole, as one would peer into a shop window, but no sign of life or other telltale evidence seemed to break the calm of the razed city. What kind of war could have wrought such terrible devastation? Depressed by the dreadful scene, Kaufman and Austin restored their courage with a few slugs of whiskey, and finally, donning their pith helmets, they leapt valiantly through the opening and into the other side.

Their senses were immediately assailed by an intense, familiar odor. Smiling with bewildered emotion, it dawned on them that they were simply smelling their own world again, which they had unconsciously stopped being aware of during their journey across the pink plain.

Rifles at the ready, they scoured their surroundings, moving cautiously through the rubble-filled streets, shocked at the sight of so much devastation, until they stumbled across another obstacle, which stopped them dead in their tracks. Kaufman and Austin gazed incredulously at the object blocking their path: it was none other than the clocktower of Big Ben. The half-crushed tower lay in the middle of the street like a severed fish head, the vast clock face a great eye staring at them with mournful resignation. The discovery made them glance uneasily about them.