Significant Numbers

There are many significant moments in life: your birth, your death, your first kiss, your first child, and all of these significant moments have something else significant about them: numbers. Numbers are significant, they surround us and they define us. Some numbers are so significant they have power, for instance the number 13 can affect they way people act. People choose which house to buy based that number. The number 666 has defined the evil subconscious of a religion for generations. People see that number in the wrong place, (on your child’s scalp for instance) and they feel like someone has walked on their grave.

Astor could go like this for hours, give him an audience and he would preach. I was so fucking bored of it, I knew every word verbatim. Some of these numb nuts actually swallowed this shit. How stupid and desperate do people have to be?
“Hey, Laney! You shit, stop zoning out on me man.” Astor banged his glass on the table, little waves of beer splashing over the rim. “Show them what you can do Laney, show them the power.” I hated it when he used this pitch; it was such a cheap shot to get a few drinks. I looked at my watch anxiously,
“We haven’t got time Astor, we have to go. Just finish your pint and let’s get going.” The faces of his little sucker audience looked between us hopefully,
“Come on Lane, just once, just a little show.”
“Fuck off, Astor, we have to go, you know ‘the thing’” I motioned to him urgently, it was nearly time and he knew it, he just liked fucking with me.

I met Astor in the year 1010, at exactly 10 minutes past 10 (and 10 seconds) on the 10th of October, although the only person who would have known the date and time on that day was Astor, he was the only person who had a digital watch with time zone adjustment in the year 1010. The rest of us just grovelled in shit; it was the dark ages after all. I must admit it was a surprise to see him, and a relief as I’d fallen into 1010 by complete accident. Picking turnips with the serfs and fighting off the advances of a priest named ‘Pious’ is no fun in anyone’s book.

I remember the exact date and time I fell into 1010, (well I would). I had been meditating on the numbers again, staring at nearly 300 digital clocks all tuned into the same time, to the second. Some Numerage wannabes try tuning all of their clocks into a computer controlled chronometer but those suckers don’t realize that the separateness of the time pieces and the ritual of tuning them exactly is where the magic lies. They spend years sitting in front of the same 300 clock, their hope fading away, their faith waning, not realizing that their worshiping one stupid clock instead of harnessing 300 fine tuned time pieces; fools. Anyway, I was staring at my clocks, the time was 20:20:18, 20:20:19, then the focal point, the first time I accessed the power, 20:20:20, (on the 20th of the month, 2020). The power hit me like a wave, more than anything I’d been expecting, my lungs were crushed, my skin was burning, I could see smoke rising from my clothes, everything was a blur and then…and then, I fucked it up. I panicked and spliced the fucker; I fucking spliced it and ended up in 1010. No one told me you could fucking time travel if you splice your wave. It’s a bit like bowling, you know how some people can naturally swerve the ball, well I can naturally splice the timeline. Mind you a natural time splicing talent is fuck all use when you land in a dung heap in the year 10:10. There are no digital clocks to be found anywhere, trust me, I looked. Knowing my luck if I had found one it would have run out of batteries.

You can imagine my relief when Astor turned up, another Numerage, and with a digital watch. He came from further ahead in time than me and the Numerage religion had refined a bit. By his time they had discovered you can harness time zone power almost as affectively as 300 clocks, and it was a lot more efficient. Keying your digital watch to alert you every time you got 1 minute and 23 seconds on the display may not have the same power as 20:20:20 but it happened a hell of a lot more often and was multiplied by the amount of time zones it happened in, which was all of them.
It turned out that Astor wanted to time splice, but wasn’t very good at it and it had taken him nearly 300 attempts and 3 pet cats (don’t ask) to do it, so he was as glad to meet me as I was him. In Feudal England they didn’t have many cats, or at least not in Sussex, so my natural time splicing ability came in handy.

So here we were, 1984, (yes it’s significant) and everyone who’d read the book had a slight chill of anticipation waiting for someone big and brotherly to turn up. Astor’d been peddling his shit, the numbers of your life are significant shit for a while and I’m was starting to think that maybe he was the root of the cult of Numerage. He din’t actually tell them anything, just spouted his shit and said anyone can harness the power of numbers, then got me to do my little trick and time splice a pint of beer back 3 minutes or so. Pathetic I know, but we’ve had to stay safe, it had to be something that could appear like a trick.
“You talk shit Astor,” I said to him on the way out. “You tell them anyone can harness numbers and it’s a lie. You know only a few of us can.” Astor gave me a wry smile and shrugged,
“You’re just a cynic Lane, just an old cynic. All I’m doing is recruiting to the cause. We need a few more on our side you know.”
And so here we are, hiding in 1984. We came here because of the significance, this is when the war starts, when the cities get up and walk. In my time most people believe it’s the Numorages that made it happen, and that’s why so many numb nuts sit in front of their clocks trying to harness the power. But I haven’t met a numerage yet who had that kind of effect.

3 cities got up and walked on the 22nd of April 1984, London, Paris and New York. The people living in the cities were surprised; the poor saps in Norwich were even more surprised when London started biting chunks out of it. Everyone always suspected 1984 would be a significant year but no one suspected why.

So this was where the war started; when the cities started fighting each other that’s when it got really scary. We were hiding here because only an idiot would hide out on a city that was about to grow legs and start walking towards Norfolk, but only an even bigger idiot would follow them there. We kind of hoped we would see the Numerage responsible, if there was one, we knew what we were looking for; we just hoped they wouldn’t see us. There are some really scary fuckers out there and this is one scary war. Astor and me, well we just want to keep our head down and still be standing when the dust finally settles.