Waiting for Haakon.
That’s what I should call this blog. Like the Becket play, but, you know, interesting.
Anyway, a week has gone by here in the Pleistocene. Still no Haakon.
I’m going back to 2022 soon to post this to my blog. Then I’ll come back here. I don’t want to miss Haakon if he comes here looking for me. When he comes.
Writing things down does help. It’s kind of like I’m talking to you. It’s better than sitting here, alone, twiddling my thumbs while waiting.
You might wonder where I’m at. You already know I’m over a million years before the common era.
I said earlier that I was in Abiquiu, New Mexico because that’s what the plaque on the wall says. It’s even got a replica of a painting by Georgia O’Keefe of the Abiquiu Mountains.
However, when I checked the coordinates, it turns out I’m not precisely where the town of Abiquiu will be built in your—and my—timeline. Instead, I’m a bit south, smack on top of a what will be a volcanic eruption about fifty thousand years before Abiquiu will be founded. I’m guessing that the Timekeepers built this shelter on top of a future volcano so that the eruption would obliterate any trace of its existence. They’re always thinking ahead, worrying about what they call Deviations.
What a load of crap.
But that’s another story, and more complicated. It took me a long time to figure that one out.
Back to this place. Haakon called it a refuge, and he implied he’d visited here before as a tourist. He promised to show me cute little baby saber-tooth tiger cubs. I think I’ll pass. The last time I saw a saber-tooth, it gave me the scar that now circles my torso, spine to belly button. Thank chaos or whatever for the nanodocs Haakon had injected in my bloodstream the week before.
Back to this place. It’s set up like an ultra-modern hideaway. It’s got big glass windows looking out on a meandering stream and a grassy veldt, polished black marble floors, and plain white walls. It’s shaped like a cross, with an entry hall for time travelers in the middle.
One wing is a lounge with windows on three sides, a patio, and a big stone fireplace. That’s where I’m at right now, watching the sun set. Another wing is a modern kitchen, including a walk-in freezer with enough food to last four people at least a year. The third wing is a bedroom with four king-sized beds and a luxurious bathroom. It’s also got a closet stocked with casual, one-size-fits-all unisex clothes for men or women. I’ll pass on the geeky sweat-suit attired look, thank you very much. The final leg is a control room for the heavy-duty time machine housed in the refuge. I have no idea how to use it. I don’t even have the required password.
Thanks to Nel, what I do have is a mini-timepiece pre-set to bring me here. Given a password, time, and an instruction manual, I’m sure I could figure out the controls on the bigger time machine in the refuge. Meantime, I keep the timepiece Nel gave me hanging on a chain around my neck. It looks like a Celtic cross until I swipe it to bring up the holographic controls. It’s also easier to figure out than the big one. That’s’ how I met my friend Max, and how I came to write this blog in your timeline.
But that, too, is another story, for another blog entry.
For now, I’m going uptime to load this to my blog. Then I’ll jump back here, to the second after I left, and continue waiting.
I’ll write more next week.
