Varian had long had an interest in history, the twentieth and early twenty-first centuries in particular, because so much had happened during that period that had inspired certain historical figures to start working to make the world a better, fairer, more peaceful place. The history books presented a world in turmoil. Wars, climate change, injustice, poverty, violence, famine… And yet during those turbulent times, the first seeds of the world he’d grown up in had been sown.

He’d been reading up on twentieth century medicine as a side project during his training to become a healer, but he’d become sidetracked by the wider picture and had started digging into how the planet had gone from wars and rampant crime to a place of peace and productivity in less than two centuries. That was when he’d come across a name he recognised: Jonathan Willaway, the name on an award given annually to ten scientists.

Interest piqued, he’d read on. Not a huge amount had been known about the man, especially his earlier years, but he’d certainly made a name for himself in the scientific community. He’d been the creator of a scientific ethic than had helped to shape the world Varian knew.

He’d had to get himself back on track to complete his project, but what he’d learned about Willaway had stuck in his head, to be remembered years later when, on an island somehow outside of time, by chance or by circumstance, perhaps even by the hand of fate, he encountered the man himself.

How many people from his own time had ever met a significant historical figure? Admittedly a somewhat minor one, but still, someone who had lived through many of the big events of the twentieth century, including the second of the great wars. There had been so much Varian wanted to know about what it was really like to live in those times, and Willaway had been happy to answer his questions in return for Varian telling him about the future his work had helped to create.

Throughout their long, rambling conversations as they trekked with their friends across the island, a close friendship had developed, an understanding that went beyond mere curiosity about each other’s life and times.

When had that friendship started to develop into something deeper and more personal? Varian didn’t know. The only thing he was sure of, as the small party of travellers drew closer to the end of their journey, was that he couldn’t imagine Jonathan walking out of his life, couldn’t bear the thought of them saying goodbye and returning to their own times, separated by more than two and a half centuries, never to meet again.

But much as he wished he could, taking Jonathan back to his own time was out of the question, and Varian knew the nineteen-sixties wouldn’t be a safe place for him even if he could follow Jonathan back there, which didn’t seem likely. From everything he’d heard, the portal didn’t work like that; you could only return to your own time.

A voice startled him out of his reverie. “You look troubled. What’s on your mind?”

The unexpectedness of the question prompted unintended honesty. “You.” Varian ducked his head.

“Me?” Willaway sat down beside his friend rather faster than he’d meant to. “Why? What…” He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to ask.

“It can’t be too long now before we reach Evoland.”

“No, I suppose not,” Willaway agreed. “But what does that have to do with… ah… me?”

“Everything.” Varian decided he might as well be honest. “The whole reason for this journey was for all of us to return to our own times, but…” He sighed. “I’ll miss everyone, of course I will, but you… I don’t want to say goodbye to you, I don’t think I can. I wish I could take you with me back to my time, show you the world you helped to create, but it’s just not possible.”

“Well, we could always just stay here on the island. I’m sure we could find a zone that would be happy to have a talented musician and healer, and a reasonably accomplished scientist, living among them.”

“You’d do that? Stay here?”

“If you recall, I never particularly wanted to go back to my own time anyway, and… I don’t want to say goodbye either.” Willaway rested his hand on Varian’s arm. “Besides, if I were to go back, wouldn’t that change history? Is there any mention of me in the history books after my disappearance in sixty-three?”

Varian frowned, then suddenly smiled. “No, I don’t believe there is.”

“Well, that’s settled then. But perhaps we’d better not tell the others, because they DO need to return to their lives. We don’t want to make them feel guilty about following their hearts, or to have them make us feel guilty for following ours. Not that I think they would, but I’m not sure they’d understand either. And we can always return to our own times if things don’t work out for us. Not that I think that’s likely.”

“So… what now?”

“Hm…” Willaway pretended to give that some serious thought. “Now, I think you should probably kiss me, or I could kiss you, if you prefer.”

“Maybe we should share the responsibility, just in case it goes horribly wrong.”

“Oh, you are hilarious, you impossible man. Just for that…” Willaway leaned in, and all Varian could think was that this was a kiss that deserved to go down in history. And that was just the beginning.


The End