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Before Bruce even had time to realize what he'd done, they were standing on an open plain.
"You little turd!" Michael screamed. "Don't you ever, ever touch my Omni again!"
Bruce barely heard him, because the rumble was so loud. What was that rumble? Why was the ground vibrating? Could it be an earthquake?
The answers to all three questions came when they looked around. An army of fierce horsemen was closing in on them, less than 100 yards away. The riders waved swords over their heads and screeched like wounded animals.
Bruce turned in the other direction and saw another army, screaming and charging towards the same point. It was a battle---and they were caught in the middle of it!
"Genghis Khan!" Bruce yelled. "Michael, that's Genghis...."
He couldn't finish because Michael had hit the Omni button again. One second before the two armies met head-on, Bruce and Michael disappeared. One second after that, they fell onto a cobblestone street.
Bruce lay on his back with his eyes shut. His whole body was trembling, as he waited for those bloodthirsty warriors to slash him to ribbons. Then he realized that the noise had ceased.
He opened his eyes and moved his body a little. The corners of the cobblestones dug into his back, but he didn't care. The stones told him that he was somewhere other than that plain.
Michael knelt over him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Easy, kid," he said softly. "It's okay. Relax."
"That was----" Bruce stammered. "I mean, we almost...."
"Yes, we almost did," Michael said, helping Bruce to his feet. "That should give you a pretty good idea why you'll never touch my Omni again."
Michael cut himself short and gave Bruce a curious look. "What am I saying?" he asked himself out loud. "Look, son, it's been nice knowing you. Sorry if I've caused you any inconvenience, but I work alone."
He straightened his coat, turned, and walked off down the street. It took Bruce a few seconds to believe what was happening. Then he ran angrily after Michael.
"Oh, no, no way, Michael!" he said, catching up to him. "You got me into this. You're going to get me out. I gotta go to school tomorrow!"
Michael kept walking without even looking down at him. "I thought I made clear that I can't take you back," he said.
"I don't even know where I am!" Bruce cried.
Michael stopped and checked his Omni. The red light was blinking again.
"The Omni says France, 1918," he said. "That means you're in the Revolutionary War."
"It means I'm in World War I!" Bruce screamed out in frustration. "Don't you know anything?"
Michael didn't answer because of the explosions. Mortar shells began detonating all over the street and they were surrounded by machine-gun fire.
Michael grabbed Bruce and dived into a stairwell leading to the basement of a house.
"As the gunfire continued, Michael whispered, "Uh, what war did you say?"
"World War I," Bruce said. "England, France, and the U.S. against Germany."
"That doesn't exactly sound like a fair fight," Michael said.
"The Germans started it."
"Did they?" Michael said.
An old-fashioned motorcycle careened around a corner into the street where they were hiding. The driver wore an American uniform. Another American soldier was slumped in the sidecar, probably out cold.
A few seconds behind the motorcycle came a German truck with a machine gunner in the passenger seat. Unfortunately for the Germans, a horse-drawn lumber cart reached the corner at the same time.
The truck collided with the cart, and the street filled up with loose pieces of lumber. Seeing this, the motorcycle driver stopped right in front of Bruce and Michael.
"Are these folks on our side?" Michael asked.
"Yep," Bruce said.
Michael ran out to help. The driver turned and fired a revolver in his direction but missed.
"Put that thing away!" Michael yelled. "We're on your side!"
The driver lowered the gun, probably because Michael had spoken in English. Now they saw it wasn't a soldier at all, but a beautiful----really beautiful---young woman in a soldier's uniform.
"Save us!" she pleaded.
Michael leaped to the sidecar, picked up the wounded soldier, and carried him into the stairwell. Bruce and the young woman followed him down.
He threw his Napoleon coat to the ground, removed the wounded soldier's coat and hat, and put them on. Then he spotted a door leading to the cellar of the building.
"Hide in there," he said.
"Where do you think you're going?" the woman asked.
Michael put his hands on her shoulders and said, "I'll be right back." Then he pulled her close and kissed her.
The woman pulled away and slapped Michael's face. Michael looked startled, then confused, then insulted.
"It wasn't that bad," he assured her.
Then he ran into the street and hopped on the cycle. The two Germans were free of the lumber now, and they ran towards him. Rifle bullets pinged on the cobblestones around the motorcycle.
Michael leaned forward and grabbed the handlebars. Then he let out a deep sigh.
"No guidebook," he said.
"The clutch, Michael!" It was Bruce calling from the stairwell.
Michael looked over and saw Bruce making a squeezing motion with his left hand. Michael imitated the motion, and the cycle took off down the street.
Bruce and the young woman ducked down as the two German soldiers ran by, firing at the motorcycle.
Some seconds later, they ran by in the opposite direction, this time being chased by the cycle.
One more reversal brought them all back again. This time, the soldiers ran into doorways on either side of the street, and Michael zoomed right by them. Bruce knew that Michael couldn't stop the machine. He wondered what the Germans thought was going on.
Now Michael was headed straight for the mess at the corner. There was lumber all over the street, then the thumped-over lumber cart, then the German truck.
"Geezbah!" Michael screamed.
They watched the cycle approach the lumber. Several pieces formed a ramp, and the cycle shot up into the air. It sailed over the wood, over the cart, and then over the truck.
It came down on the other side---right side up----and continued off into the distance. The Germans ran into the truck and took off in pursuit.
Bruce caught his breath. He turned and grinned at the young woman.
"He must think that's the greatest thing since Coca-Cola," she said.
"He's not a bad guy," Bruce answered. "Come on, we'd better get inside."
They lifted the wounded soldier and carried him into the building.
"Will he come back?" the woman asked.
"I hope so," Bruce said.
"Who is that man, anyway?"
Bruce hesitated only for a moment. Then he said, "He's just my dad."622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8F7IeukEKT
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Several miles out of town, Michael tore along a dirt road, the Germans close enough for him to hear their motor. He fiddled with everything he could find on the cycle, but nothing would slow it down.
Suddenly, he saw how his ride was going to end. He was approaching a bridge. So was a mortar, fired by an unseen German gun.
The mortar got there first. It hit the bridge dead center. As the cycle raced towards it, Michael watched the bridge collapse into the water.
"I don't suppose I have a choice, do I?" Michael asked nobody in particular.
There was no way to slow down, so the cycle raced toward the open air that was once occupied by a bridge. The German truck behind him slowed down.
As the cycle soared out over the water, Michael released his grip on the handlebars and leaned to one side. 30 feet below, he splashed into the water.
The truck stopped, and the two German soldiers got out. The cycle's forward motion had ceased, and they watched it fall into the water.
They waited. Pieces of the destroyed bridge floated in the water. The bubbles from the sinking motorcycle vanished. There was nothing else to see.
The soldiers smiled triumphantly and nodded to each other. Then they got into their truck and drove away.
Michael came bursting to the surface of the water, clearing expecting to be shot at. He faced the sky and gasped for air. No bullets. They'd left him for dead.
"Thank the Big Voyager," he said between gasps.
He began swimming to shore. At every other stroke, his eye was caught by the Omni.
He would have preferred not to think about it. But it was hard to ignore the infernal blinking red light. It meant he still had work to do. 622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9XWxQr2b6l
