『Chapter Four: Reunions and Revelations』のカバーアート

Chapter Four: Reunions and Revelations

Chapter Four: Reunions and Revelations

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 Jude was jolted awake by the barn door banging open, harsh sunlight flooding in and making him shield his eyes. A Union sergeant stood in the doorway, rifle at the ready, his face set in hard lines. “On your feet, Rebs! Roll call!” Tucker caught his eye as they shuffled into line. A tiny nod, barely perceptible. The message was away. The sergeant walked down the line and stopped as he reached Jude. “Well, well. The little spy is awake.” “I’m not a spy,” Jude said automatically. “Shut up.” The sergeant’s eyes swept over him, “You were found in Confederate territory, dressed like nothing anyone’s ever seen, with papers in your pocket we can’t make heads or tails of. If you’re not a spy, what are you?” A time traveler would probably not go over well. “I’m just a kid,” Jude said. “I got lost. My brother and sister—” “Save it for the interrogation.” The sergeant jerked his head at two guards. “Take this one to Lieutenant Harris. Colonel wants answers before we move these prisoners north.” They dragged him out of the barn and across a muddy yard to a tent where a thin-faced officer sat behind a camp desk, papers spread before him. “Sit,” Lieutenant Harris barked as he finished whatever he was reading, then turned those cold eyes on Jude. “Your name?” “Jude Martin.” “Where are you from, Jude Martin?” “Pennsylvania.” “Which part of Pennsylvania?” Jude hesitated. Their home was near Harrisburg, but he didn’t know if saying that would help or hurt. “Near… near Philadelphia.” “You don’t sound sure.” “I got hit on the head. Things are fuzzy.” Harris’s expression didn’t change. “The papers we found in your pocket. What are they?” “Notes. For school. Science class.” “Science class.” Harris repeated the words like they tasted bad. “These notes contain diagrams and equations we’ve never seen. Cesium oscillator and ‘temporal displacement theory.’ Care to explain ?” Jude’s heart was hammering. “I don’t—I can’t—” “You’re going to tell me the truth, boy. I don’t have time for games. You can cooperate now, or I can make things… uncomfortable. Your choice.” The tent flap rustled, and a new voice cut through the tension: “Lieutenant Harris. A word?” Jude turned. A tall man stood in the entrance, dressed in the simple uniform of a Union colonel, his beard full and dark, his eyes kind despite the exhaustion around them. Harris jumped to his feet. “Colonel Chamberlain! Sir, I wasn’t expecting—” “Clearly.” Chamberlain stepped into the tent, his gaze moving from Harris to Jude and back again. “I’ve been looking for this prisoner. He’s needed for questioning at the Weikert farm.” Harris’s face went red. “With respect, sir—” “My orders come from General Meade himself.” Chamberlain cut him off. “The prisoner will accompany me. You can file a complaint if you like, but I suspect the general has more pressing concerns at the moment.” Harris looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Chamberlain’s expression stopped him. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” “Good.” Chamberlain gestured to Jude. “Come with me, Mr. Martin. Your brother and sister are waiting.” Jude was shaking as they walked away from Harris’s tent, past rows of Union soldiers preparing for another day of battle, toward a horse tied to a nearby post. “How did you find me?” he managed. “Flynn—Clara—are they—” “They’re safe at the Weikert farm.” Chamberlain helped him mount behind the saddle. “A young Confederate drummer arrived this morning with your message. Brave boy—made it through five miles of enemy territory in the dark.” He swung up in front of Jude. “Your sister figured out the beacon from your grandfather’s notes. They’ve been trying to activate it all morning.” “The oscillator—” “Is damaged, I’m told, but possibly repairable.” Chamberlain kicked the horse into a trot. “We have bigger concerns, though. The letter your sister carried—the one warning of the assassination plot—there have been developments.” “What kind of developments?” Chamberlain was quiet for a moment, the only sounds the clop of hooves and the distant rumble of cannon fire. “The battle continues,” he said finally. “Tomorrow will be the worst of it—a massive assault on our center that we’re calling the great cannonade. Thousands will die. And somewhere in the chaos, someone is planning something that will change the course of history.” “The assassination.” “Yes. But not just that.” Chamberlain turned his head slightly, his voice dropping. “Last night, one of my scouts intercepted a Confederate courier. He was carrying orders—orders that reference you by name, Jude. You and your siblings.” The world seemed to tilt. “That’s impossible. We’ve only been here a day.” “And yet there it is.” Chamberlain’s jaw ...
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