Daemons Are Forever

“Let’s get going,” I said briskly. “Build up your pressure, or whatever it is you need to do, and full steam ahead to the future!”

Tony looked at me just a bit blankly. “You mean…right now?”

“No time like the present,” I said. “And…there are a few people who might want to have a word with us before we go, and I really don’t feel like talking to them, so the sooner we can get under way, the better. That isn’t going to be a problem, is it?”

“Oh no, Edwin! Not at all! In fact, the principles of time travel will allow us to return just a few seconds after we depart, and that way you won’t have to miss out on talking to anyone!”

“Oh joy,” I said. “Let’s go, Tony.”

“Say no more, sir!” said Tony, saluting me enthusiastically. He scrambled back up the ladder into the cab, all but exploding with pleasure and nervous energy. This was his moment, his great chance, come round at last, and he couldn’t wait to get under way. I’d rather been counting on that. Anyone just a bit less enthusiastic might have asked a whole bunch of awkward questions, to which I didn’t have any good answers. I felt a bit guilty at taking advantage of Tony, but only a bit. I had too many other things to feel guilty about. I needed the warrior called Deathstalker, the family needed him, and that was all that mattered. Molly and I followed Tony up the narrow steel ladder and into the surprisingly spacious cab. Molly and I stood well back as Tony hurried from one long steel lever to another, throwing them back and forth with infectious enthusiasm and good cheer. Nothing like watching an enthusiast show off at what he does best. He leaned forward to check a row of old-fashioned gauges on the main bulkhead, and tapped a few with a forefinger before turning around to smile brightly.

“I always maintain a good working head of pressure,” he said proudly. “Partly because it’s good for the boiler, partly just in case the call should ever come… Allow me a few minutes to shovel in some more fuel, and then we can be on our way! Oh yes!”

“Where are the tracks?” said Molly, leaning dangerously far over the side of the cab before I pulled her back.

“As I understand it, there aren’t any,” I said. “Ivor travels in time, not space.” I looked at Tony. “You can leave the carriages behind. We won’t be needing them.”

His face fell. “But…they’re very comfortable! Downright cosy, in fact. Polish the brass every day, I do!”

“Nevertheless,” I said firmly.

Tony pouted, and then went back to unhitch the carriages. I took a look at the various gauges, but they meant nothing to me. And yet, I could feel something… a sense of pressure building, of controlled power gathering itself. Standing in Ivor’s cab was like standing in the mouth of a great beast as it finally came awake. Tony jumped back into the cab, opened the tender door, and started shovelling what looked very like coal into the open chamber. Molly and I watched for a while.

“Excuse me,” said Molly, “but… how exactly does building up a head of steam help us to travel in time?”

“Oh, this isn’t coal, miss,” said Tony, shovelling energetically. “This is crystallised tachyons.”

Molly’s scowl deepened. “But… tachyons are particles that can’t travel any slower than the speed of light, so…”

“Don’t ask,” I said kindly. “I always find it better not to ask when faced with something like this. The answers will only upset you. Just considering the problems involved with time travel makes my head hurt. I really don’t want a lecture on quantum steam mechanics, and neither do you.”

It didn’t take long to build up a full head of what passed for steam, and Tony finally put away his shovel, slammed the chamber door shut, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a red-spotted handkerchief.

“All clear, sir and miss. But now we need an exact destination, Ivor and I, if we’re to navigate the future timelines. We need proper spatial and temporal coordinates.”

I took out the Merlin Glass and instructed it to show Ivor where and when to find Giles Deathstalker. The Glass immediately pulled itself out of my hand and shot through the air, growing in size as it went, until finally it hung hovering at the end of the hangar, filling the whole entrance.

“I think it’s trying to tell us it knows the way,” I said.

“That thing is really starting to creep me out,” said Molly. “Nothing should be able to do all the things that hand mirror can do. Not even if it was made by Merlin Satanspawn.”

“Hush,” I said. “It might hear you.” I turned to Tony. “Aim Ivor at the gateway the Glass has just opened up, and it should give him all the coordinates he needs.”

“I don’t know,” Tony said dubiously.

“Just do it,” I said. “What’s one more crazy thing in the midst of all this weirdness?”

“A man after my own heart!” said Tony. “Full steam ahead, Ivor! Warp Factor six and don’t spare the tachyons!”

The Time Train lurched forward, sending us all staggering for a moment. Ivor chugged loudly with effort, venting something very like steam from his fu

Strange planets passed us by, weird and unca

“If this is outer space,” Molly ventured, “and I’m quite prepared to be told that it isn’t… how come we’re able to breathe?”

“Ivor has many talents and many secrets,” Tony said grandly. “You are quite safe, Miss Molly, as long as you stay inside the cab.”

“But where…exactly, are we?” I said.

Tony shrugged. “I’ve read all the books, but I have to say no one seems too sure of exactly what it is Ivor travels through. My grandfather, the last man to actually take Ivor out, said that this is what time and space look like, seen from the other side. Whatever that means. There are other theories, suggesting that Ivor travels through the universe below ours. Or possibly the one above. Believe whatever makes you feel safest, that’s what I say.”

I looked at Molly. “Conversations like this are why the family prefers to leave time travel strictly alone.”

“Pah!” said Tony. “They have no sense of adventure!”

“Hold everything,” said Molly. “What is that?”

We all looked where she was pointing. A great yellow shape was sweeping rapidly through the starry night, heading straight for us. As it grew closer, it revealed itself to be a huge yellow dragon. Disturbingly large, a hundred times the size of Ivor, it was a garish banana yellow in colour, with sickly pink markings up and down its long body. The head was blunt and bony, with a row of glaring red eyes set above a gaping maw packed with jagged, sharklike teeth. Vast membranous yellow wings bellowed out on either side of the bulging midsection. It had short grabbing arms set on the neck below the mouth, armed with vicious, curving talons. The dragon shot past us, silent as a nightmare, the massive wings barely flapping. The head turned to follow us, on the end of a long serpentine neck, and up close the head alone was bigger than Ivor.