Day of Deliverance

  Praise for Day of Deliverance

  “Sword fights, acting, guns, and time travel all make for an intriguing and interesting read. This fast-paced story with the unusual concept of travelling through time to purposely change the course of history will appeal to readers.” Library Media Connection

  “A challenging and exciting read for those who appreciate a blend of history and science fiction.” School Library Journal

  “Day of Deliverance is a suspenseful and entertaining journey back to an important time in the history of England and of the world. Jack Christie is a very relatable hero – a regular schoolboy caught in, and coping with, circumstances beyond his control… His latest adventure delivers on all counts!” Teenreads.com

  For Sally, Tom, Peter and Anna – J. O’B.

  Day of Deliverance

  A JACK CHRISTIE ADVENTURE

  CAST OF MAIN CHARACTERS

  Jack Christie – Our hero

  Angus Jud – Jack’s loyal friend

  Carole Christie – Jack’s mother

  Professor Tom Christie – Jack’s father

  Dr Pendelshape – The slightly unhinged history teacher

  Counsellor Inchquin – Leader of VIGIL

  The Rector – Headmaster of Soonhope High and VIGIL second-in-command

  Secondary Characters

  Edward Alleyn – An actor

  Miss Beattie – English and Drama teacher and nuclear physicist

  Belstaff – Games teacher and VIGIL security

  Elizabeth I – Queen of England

  The Fanshawe Players – Harry Fanshawe’s failed group of travelling actors

  Harry Fanshawe – An actor

  Philip Henslowe – A businessman & theatrical impresario

  The Henslowe Players – Philip Henslowe’s professional acting troupe

  Theo Joplin – VIGIL historian

  Thomas Kyd – A playwright

  Mary, Queen of Scots – Queen of Scotland

  Christopher Marlowe – A playwright

  Monk – An actor

  Jim de Raillar – Bike shop owner and VIGIL analyst

  William Shakespeare – A playwright

  Tony and Gordon – School janitors and VIGIL minders

  Trinculo – An actor

  Professor Gino Turinelli – Italian bistro owner and Professor

  Sir Francis Walsingham – Principal Secretary of State and Privy

  Councillor

  Whitsun and Gift – Revisionist agents

  Contents

  PRAISE FOR DAY OF DELIVERANCE

  DEDICATION

  TITLE PAGE

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  JACK’S ADVENTURES SO FAR…

  A POISONED SWORD

  WORDS, WORDS, WORDS

  GINO’S

  THE TOWER

  PENDELSHAPE PANIC

  SIXTEENTH-CENTURY SORTIE

  KEEP YOUR HEAD

  ESCAPE

  THE FANSHAWE PLAYERS

  BANDIT COUNTRY

  CORPUS CONUNDRUM

  NIGHT CLIMB

  PEACE, LOVE AND UNDERSTANDING

  THE CROSS KEYS

  A BARGAIN WITH THE BARD

  INTO THIN AIR

  AN OLD FRIEND

  THE BEAUTIFUL GAME

  APPOINTMENT AT THE PALACE

  MAKING AN ENTRANCE

  HAMPTON COURT

  A CONFUSION OF QUEENS

  INTO THE WILDERNESS

  DAY OF DELIVERANCE

  GRAVELINES GRAVEYARD

  SULTAN OF SPIN

  TASER TOWN

  THE LAST ACT

  THE TAURUS AND TIME TRAVEL – some notes

  BACKGROUND INFORMATION

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  COPYRIGHT

  It has been six months since Jack and Angus made the mind-boggling discovery that their school, Soonhope High, is a front for a team of scientists who control the most powerful technology ever conceived by man: the technology of time travel. At the heart of this technology is a machine called the Taurus, and Jack’s dad, Professor Christie, was part of the team that originally designed it. Jack hasn’t seen his father since he was six, when the scientists who formed the Taurus had a serious disagreement and Christie was forced into exile, leaving Jack and his wife, Carole, behind.

  Christie’s plan was to use the technology to make changes to the past – stopping major wars, for example – that would make today’s world a better place. He attracted some passionate and brilliant supporters, including Dr Pendelshape who, until last year, was Jack’s History teacher. Pendelshape and Christie, together with their small band of followers, who call themselves the ‘Revisionists’, developed sophisticated computer simulations to model interventions in the past that could benefit mankind. Their former colleagues, on the other hand, continue to believe that changing events in the past, however well meant, would be dangerous and have unforeseen consequences. Once Professor Christie was out of the way, they formed a group called ‘VIGIL’ to ensure that the Taurus was kept secret – but in working order should it ever be needed.

  Jack and Angus had become embroiled when, unknown to VIGIL, Christie created a second Taurus and proceeded to try to stop the event that triggered the First World War – the assassination of the Archduke Ferdinand, in Sarajevo, June, 1914. Pendelshape acted as Christie’s partner, continuing to teach at Soonhope High and leading VIGIL to believe that he was loyal to them. Meanwhile, Jack and Angus were used as pawns in a battle between the two camps. Jack’s loyalties had been torn. In the end, having witnessed first hand the dangers of time travel and intervening in the past, Jack decided that the right course of action was to side with VIGIL.

  Since then, there has been a stalemate, with neither side able to make a move against the other. Not knowing the whereabouts of Christie’s base, VIGIL can do nothing about the second Taurus. Christie, on the other hand, will not use his Taurus while Jack is under the guard of VIGIL. The members of VIGIL know that Christie will do nothing while there might be a threat to his son, in retribution for any action the Revisionists take. But Christie does not know that Jack’s loyalties are now with VIGIL, and Carole Christie is also firmly inside the VIGIL camp. The atmosphere at VIGIL is tense. Although their security is highly sophisticated, they wonder what the Revisionists’ next move will be…

  Jack thrust the rapier forward. Angus jumped back, but this time he was not quick enough. The blade pierced his flesh and an ominous red patch appeared on his white shirt. Angus glanced down at the wound and looked back at his opponent with an expression of rage on his face. A frisson of excitement rippled through the crowd. The contest was proving far better than they had imagined. Jack was exhilarated – one final blow and it would all be over.

  His confidence was short-lived. The strike had found its mark but he’d also momentarily lost his balance and Angus came back with a violent counter-thrust. His blade flashed through the air and caught Jack in the ribs. There was a gasp from the crowd. The foil was so sharp that Jack scarcely felt it. But in only a few seconds his own blade grew heavy in his hand and his breathing quickened. Sensing his chance, Angus darted forward once more, his sword aimed at Jack’s chest again. This time Jack spotted the move and swayed to one side. Angus’s forward momentum presented Jack with an opportunity. He grabbed his opponent by the arm and heaved him onwards, while simultaneously thrusting out his leg. Angus tripped and spun through the air landing with a crunching thud, his sword spinning from his hand. Jack pounced onto him and they became locked in a deadly struggle. But he should have known better than to take on Angus in a wrestling match. Angus was much too strong and soon he had Jack pinned on his back beneath him. He grasped Jack’s sword hand and banged it hard on
the ground until Jack relinquished his grip. Angus lowered his face towards Jack’s and sneered.

  “You will die.”

  Jack was nailed to the ground. He was wounded and he had no weapon. Angus’s massive bulk was pressing down on him. But it wasn’t over yet. He gritted his teeth, and with a super-human effort jerked his knee upwards into Angus’s crotch. Angus wailed in pain and Jack seized the moment to wriggle free. Snatching up a sword, he wheeled round. The sword felt different – heavier and unbalanced – but it didn’t matter now. Angus jumped back to his feet and grabbed the other sword and the two of them circled round and round, panting at each other like wounded animals. The crowd jeered. Jack’s remaining energy was melting away – he knew he only had seconds left. There was blood all over the floor and Angus slipped. He was only distracted for a split second but it was enough. Jack leaped forward to land a second, fatal blow. Angus screamed as blood from a second wound spurted from his chest. He dropped to one knee, and looked up at Jack. It was an unexpected expression – almost apologetic,

  “The poison… I am killed with my own treachery…” He stammered.

  Jack glanced down at the sword that dangled loosely from his hand – and suddenly he understood. He had snatched up his opponent’s sword, which Angus must have dipped in poison before the contest. Jack had already been injured with the same sword, which meant that, in less than a minute, both of them would be dead.

  But there was still time to see to unfinished business. Jack knew what he had to do.

  Clutching his chest to stem the bleeding, he staggered across to where his uncle sat cowering behind the long banqueting table. The food and drink was laid out – still untouched. Jack mounted the table and fixed his eyes menacingly on his uncle who sank back into his chair, shaking. There was to be no mercy and Jack did not hesitate. He thrust the sword into his uncle’s heart.

  Miss Beattie scurried onto the stage, “Well done, everyone! Lights!”

  There was a spontaneous round of applause from the cast and crew. Nothing was being left to chance. The week before, Miss Beattie had even arranged for a special fight choreographer to come in and help them with the sword fight between Hamlet and Laertes in the last scene. It was all perfectly safe, of course, and the flashing swords reassuringly blunt, but there was always tension in the air during the famous scene and everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. And today, with Angus a reluctant and unrehearsed stand-in for the real Laertes who was off sick, anything might have happened.

  “That’s all coming together quite well.” Miss Beattie said, pleased with their progress. “Only two weeks to go now…”

  Jack looked down at Tommy McGough from his position high up on the table. Tommy was playing Claudius, Hamlet’s uncle, and he nervously opened one eye.

  “Did I survive?”

  “Looks like it,” Jack said. “Don’t know how you get away with it. Every rehearsal I somehow manage to miss.”

  “Dangerous business this Shakespeare stuff…”

  Angus bounded over from centre stage, flushed with excitement after the sword fight.

  “That was awesome…”

  “Told you…”

  Angus’s shirt was almost completely red as Miss Beattie removed the pouch of stage blood from underneath it.

  “What a mess,” the English teacher fussed.

  Angus grinned, “I thought I would go for Hamlet meets Terminator… Everyone likes a bit of blood, don’t they, Miss?”

  Without looking up, she replied, “Actually, you’re right. When they performed these plays in the old days they wouldn’t have skimped on the blood… they’d have used real goat’s blood probably. The audiences loved gore. There’s even a story of actors using a real musket. In one production it went off and someone in the audience had his head blown off by mistake.”

  Miss Beattie was always coming out with stuff like this. It was one reason why Drama was so popular at school – and successful. The whole town of Soonhope would probably turn up for the end-of-term performance of Hamlet.

  “Is that true, Miss?”

  “Apparently. They just dragged the body out. Next day they were on again. I doubt they used the musket again, though health and safety wasn’t top priority in the sixteenth century…”

  “I could get into that,” Angus said.

  Jack elbowed him. “See – told you it was worth coming.”

  “Well – the fighting was good fun, but I couldn’t stand Shakespeare for too long – you know, all those… words.”

  Miss Beattie looked up at Angus with a steely eye, her good humour evaporating. At nearly six foot, Angus towered over her, but somehow, the expression on her face made him shrink.

  “You’ve done it now…” Jack murmured, casting a sidelong glance at Tommy, who grimaced in return.

  “Words!” Miss Beattie rolled the ‘R’ in her strong East Scots brogue. “WORRRDS!” She repeated it – louder – and it came from her lips like a dart from a blowpipe. “Is that all you have to say on the matter – WORRRDS?”

  Everyone around the stage stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Miss Beattie. For all her boundless enthusiasm, she was also prone to dramatic changes in mood. As a result, Angus was about to receive what was popularly termed by the pupils of Soonhope High School as ‘a Beattie Beating’. It was never pleasant.

  “But, Miss…” Angus bravely tried to stand his ground, but it was too late. It was as if he had inadvertently triggered a small thermo-nuclear device.

  “I’ll tell you this – laddie – not any old words… nearly one million words in forty plays and more than one hundred and fifty four sonnets and poems… and not just any old plays and sonnets, but the most sublime writing the world has ever read – even after four hundred years. Words? Shakespeare invented them. Lots of them… like: critical, frugal, dwindle, extract, zany, leapfrog, vast, hereditary, excellent, eventful, lonely… and phrases… new phrases like: vanish into thin air, brave new world, fool’s paradise, sea change, sorry sight, in a pickle, budge an inch, cold comfort, flesh and blood, foul play, baited breath, cruel to be kind, fair play, green-eyed monster…” She paused only to take a deep breath. Then she was off again. “These are WORDS and phrases that have been used so much they have become clichés… they are words and phrases that I use – God help us – even you use them, my lad – Shakespeare was the world’s greatest writer. He helped define the world’s richest language – the English language – your language. He gave us the very tools to think and feel. He gave us the essence of humanity… do you get it? Do you understand? So please don’t talk to me about WORRRDS!”

  There was stunned silence around the stage as everyone wondered if there might be more – whether this was to be a tactical nuclear strike – or the full-blown strategic version that would take out the whole of Soonhope. Thankfully, the colour in Miss Beattie’s cheeks normalised from a deep purple to its more usual pink. Nevertheless, Angus continued to stare at a spot on the end of one of his shoes for a full ten seconds before finally mumbling, “Yes, Miss. Sorry, Miss.”

  Miss Beattie gave a final sigh of indignation and said, “That’s all right, Mr Jud.” She looked around and clapped her hands.

  “Now everyone – let’s get this lot cleared up. It’s nearly four o’clock.”

  But something that Miss Beattie had said stuck in Jack’s mind and as he and Tommy put away the props, his curiosity overcame his fear of re-lighting the blue touch paper.

  “Sorry, Miss – did you say a million words? I mean written by one man – Shakespeare?”

  “Yes, Jack, I think that’s about right.”

  “But that sounds like an awful lot for one man to write…”

  “It is. There are lots of theories – most of them rubbish – that he did not actually write his material, but that others did. Shakespeare lived during the ‘English Renaissance’ – it was a boom time for plays and playwrights and art and artists generally. More than fifty candidates have been suggested
as the ‘real’ Shakespeare – people like Christopher Marlowe.”

  “Who?”

  Miss Beattie was overseeing the flow of props back into the store cupboard, giving orders as she worked. “No, Tommy, put the swords into the sword trolley properly, or they’ll get damaged.” She looked back at Jack. “Sorry, Jack – what was that?”

  “Marlowe – was he like Shakespeare, then?”

  “He influenced Shakespeare, but he died in 1593 before Shakespeare’s career had really got going. He was only twenty-nine… it was murder. He was a spy.”

  “A writer and a spy?”

  “Yes, maybe even a double agent. I know it sounds odd, but there were quite a few writers who were at the time – not Shakespeare, though. They often studied at Oxford or Cambridge; the universities were hotbeds of radicalism.”

  “What do you mean by radicalism?”

  She sighed. “You’re insatiable, Jack.” She turned to lock the store cupboard and then looked at him sympathetically. “Look – we don’t really have time to go into the whole of sixteenth-century politics right now… but next lesson maybe we’ll do it in more detail.” She thought to herself for a minute. “Tell you what, come over here…” She scurried over to a pile of bags at the side of the stage and pulled out a large book.

  “There you go, that should get you started.” She handed the tome over to Jack. It was entitled, simply, Elizabeth I. On the front cover was the famous Armada Portrait of the auburn-headed queen in an elaborately decorated dress covered in jewels with one hand draped over a globe and pointing to Virginia in the Americas, England’s first colony in the New World. Behind the queen, the Spanish Armada could be seen, sailing to its doom.

  “Knowing you, Jack, you should be able to finish that off in a couple of hours. It’s all there. And it’s not just about Shakespeare and Marlowe you know. This was a period of deep religious conflict – between Catholics and Protestants – a struggle for the very soul of man. And this religious conflict was intertwined with the political struggles between states. Spain was the global superpower and England was a backwater by comparison. But when England defeated the Spanish Armada, that all started to change. Otherwise, we might be living in a Catholic country today and speaking Spanish – and so might most of the world. We would probably be having tapas for school dinners.” Miss Beattie stopped. “There I go again… prattling away…” She tapped the book. “Anyway, I’ll leave it with you.”