1. sports
2. auto racing
3. nascar

Zebra & Cheese Sandwich
(How To Steal A Time Machine And Not Get
Caught)
A.M.Russell
*****
Published by Anne Russell at Smashwords
Copyright 2013 A.M.Russell
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment
only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with
another person, please purchase an additional copy for
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purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only,
then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase
your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard
work of this author.
*****
Contents
Chapter One: Out to Lunch.
Chapter Two: Sandwiches & Cold Science.
Chapter Three: Vanishing Point.
Chapter Four: Symmetry.
Chapter Five: Doors of Perception.
Chapter Six: Something Sexy, Sinister & Bold.
Chapter Seven: The Unpredictable Truth.
Chapter Eight: Counting Sheep.
Chapter Nine: Revelations of Absurdity.
Chapter Ten: Once More with Feeling.
Chapter Eleven: We Can, Because We Think We Can.
Chapter Twelve: When We Knew What Love Was.
Chapter Thirteen: The Effect of Gravity.
*****
Dedication
To Those Who
May Have Doubted
But Took Hold of a Dream
And Made It Real.
*****
Chapter One
Out to Lunch
The really big problem with most of the items on a menu is that
they all could be interpreted in another way. I mean really! Why is it
necessary to point out that omelettes do in fact contain eggs? Kyle
looked up expectantly as the cute girl in the too short skirt shimmied
towards him with the giant mug of coffee.
‘Alright there Honey?’ she looked at Kyle in an overly interested
way. Must be the aftershave. He sniffed wondering how he could
make a coffee last for half an hour. It must be something special…
Samantha….
Two days earlier, and Kyle was chewing on a pencil. And
wondering how many years in prison a person of his peculiar talents
could reasonably expect if he hacked into the benefits systems and
adjusted his Mum’s pension up a little…. Money had been ‘lost’ in the
system; something to do with wills, and estates and Government tax.
He sighed, shrugged and lost himself in another more professional
pursuit. That is if you call what Kyle did…. Well it was not in anyone
else's job description: Encryption of special files from the Time
Predictor. What, you might say was that? A very complicated program
written to calculate the probability of things happening in time when
other things in time were not behaving as they should. Basically it was
Top Secret. But not really locked in a secret place because just trying
to explain how to find your way round the nice colourful interface that
Kyle had helpfully programmed for his colour-code mad friend
George Carter, was enough to tax any other person who did not have a
brain that could accelerate past its own breakfast in to the realms of
hyper manic grace and fury.
George was out. George had been out a lot just recently. It
annoyed Kyle. But in a bitter kind of way that really was jealously of
the worst kind. He chewed on the pencil some more, got up and went
to the kitchen. It might be time to check the latest offering from
obscure places in the printed matter that George habitually had
delivered. It was annoying; all of it. He was annoyed. And then the
phone was ringing in the hallway; with a rush of energy and
enthusiasm he went to answer it. Hoping… well it was just about time
to consider some upgrades. Upgrades; and a snazzy new bit of
programming that took into account the local weather and the ratio of
dampness to bad temper and consequent argument over what to have
for tea. Kyle was tracking thing like that just to test the finer tuning on
the machine; the sillier the better.
‘Hello? Hello…..’ a sweet voice, deep toned with a hint of a
growl; a bit like a cat that is in need of a nap. She was waking, and
had rung. Suddenly the elastic start of reality reasserted itself, he
heard himself saying, ‘Yeah, right… I’ll give him the message…’ he
rang off and sighed. Juliet. The sylph who had upset the equilibrium
of his other friend the Detective Man. Juliet sounded kind of pissed
off come to think of it. But that was nothing to do with him. Better
just make sure he passed on the message. Kyle found the kitchen note
pad and scrawled it in bright yellow marker: Ring Juliet! He put it
under the box of cooks’ matches in the middle of the table where Sam
was sure to find them. That was his friend Sam Wright, Detective
Man; and as much as he tried he found it really irritating to keep
ejecting the thought of a name from round the idea of a friend to fit a
woman who refused to use the full elongated version of her name.
‘Parker’ was a preferable moniker, but Kyle felt that if he wanted to
get a little closer to her he better not fall into some sort of existential
bucket with the mental version of who sticks the tail on the donkey
blindfold. She did not invoke a sense that kissing might be immanent
but then again; it might not be possible to think of it at all if he
couldn’t get Sam (irritating piss taker mate of his) out of his head if
attempting a feat of such proportion with the lovely and brilliant Sam
(super smart, intriguing female with a sassy manner and lots of dark
secrets).
While this mood was still at its height a parcel arrived to be
signed for. Kyle, who had a very ambivalent relationship with the
postal service, took this latest interruption with a modicum of
calmness, as it interrupted him from the chain of thought that might
other worse lead to the biscuit tin and even the cat crunchies if the like
were not available.
It was a big parcel. Rather heavy and rather well wrapped, taped,
tied with string and having a large amount of postage in a collection of
out of date stamps. The postman looked harassed. They had given up
not delivering things that were out by only a few pence as George had
given them a rollicking after something important arrived late. Kyle
gave him the twenty pence and bid him a good day. The postman left
hastily; possibly not wanting to meet the inestimable George; who,
even though he wasn’t in, gave the impression that he was due to the
number of cars that always seemed to be parked nearby. It was a very
crowded street and parking spaces here were in short supply. So he
could be excused for being uncertain. Anyway, it made sense. That
parcel was bloody heavy; it would have slowed him right up. They
only had just enough time to get round. Kyle went to the computer. He
emailed George, and then set about making pies. A well tamed pastry
making session later Kyle’s New Man skills were just beginning to
sooth his furrowed soul, when the phone rang again. He ambled to
answer it; a calmness of post pie production letting him take this in his
stride. It was Parker, as she called herself.
‘Good God Kyle! Aren’t you at the old computer? It’s manic!’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The buzz on the net. I thought you’d be ringing me.’
‘Uh… not really. It’s pie night.’
Sam ignored this obtuse explanation and got to the point
immediately. ‘Someone turned up. They say it’s going to be evidence
of the Bermuda triangle or something. They say that he came from the
Nineteen Forties.’
‘Right.’
‘You did hear what I just said? I thought this was your thing.’
‘It’s George’s thing actually. I just program the machines.
Actually it’s really not that interesting. The same thing happened back
in Two Thousand and Fifteen. He was lost at sea. They didn’t think it
mattered that the guy had lost his memory; they were convinced he
had travelled into time. But of course he was just suffering from the
effects of being out there for a long time. It does things to the mind
you know.’
‘Yes. I know.’ she said. Her voice was strangely neutral. ‘I think
I’ll call round sometime soon. It might be time…’
Sam’s comment had a strange origin. In all the time he had known
her: all of six months, she had displayed an aptitude for avoidance of
other people on a grand scale. It was never seemingly deliberate, and
in that he could not take offence. But he wondered why she was still
so paranoid she felt that George’s pie night might be cause for a
resurgence of the cold war. As George put it: ‘I’ll heat things up a
little more than a little bit!’ and with that he waved the Tabasco sauce
in Kyle’s direction.
‘Kyle?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can I visit soon?’
‘Yes, of course you can.’
‘Are you worried?’
‘About what?’
‘You sound worried.’
‘No.’
‘Kyle?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ll meet you in the café on Kibbling way on Saturday morning.
At Eleven. We’ll talk then. That is if you are free.’
‘Yes. Of course I’m free.’ he felt a sudden rush of relief. Pie night
was not a good place to start anything with a girl. There really was too
much to take in. He thought that Gina might pop by later. But
somehow, now he had got used to her she didn’t grate in the same way
as the other women who occasionally frequented George’s house. She
had eyes only for George and was incredibly well informed about a lot
of current goings on in the world out there. Plus she did actually
understand the maths of it all. She was a mental arithmetic nut. It was
scary to see her add up. It was like she got some sort of sexual thrill
from a set of numbers. God knows what she was like at a restaurant
dividing up the bill among a set of friends. But George seemed quite
able to handle the wild unrestrained verbosity of the creature. She did
have good taste and often brought chocolate that Kyle could eat. She
was clearly out of the training place for girls who would take a man’s
friends seriously. She didn’t ever insult or put down anything Kyle
said. But she kept her distance. Good job really.
So Kyle was waiting for Parker, aka Samantha…. But he would
really put her off if he called her that. He sipped the coffee. It was
good stuff. Worthy of a mark on the Richter scale of notable events, if
coffee can be called ‘an event’. It was like calling an omelette ‘a
happening’. It has happened in the sense that it had been made but that
was where it stopped. Kyle did not approve of artists who used words
like that. He did know one or two. And it was to his regret that he had
not got to know that sad friend of Sam’s before he disappeared. That
was still hanging in the air. He didn’t want to ask about it. It seemed
kind of freaky actually. Something about a girl, a murder, and creepy
plant people…. much safer with computers.
‘Hello Sweetie!’
Startled, Kyle half rose out of the seat. It was Parker…. err Sam.
His brain got it right this time.
‘Hi Sam. Do you want to eat?’
‘Definitely! I’m starving.’
‘Uh, alright.’ he picked up the menu, and then passed it to her.
‘Chat to me Kyle.’ she said quietly, ‘Make it look like I’m an
airhead and so are you.’
‘Sure.’ Kyle shrugged, easy peasey. Paranoia on toast; with a side
serving of weirdness.
‘I’ll have the omelette.’ she said, ‘With mushrooms. Do you think
the chips will make me fat?’
‘No. I think that talking about them might though.’
‘Chips?’
‘Don’t say it.’
‘Chips!’ she giggled.
Kyle smiled, ‘That’s better.’ he said, ‘Do you feel better?’
‘Yes.’ she scanned the menu again, ‘Actually I think I’ll have a
plated salad with prawns. I like seafood.’
‘Good call. I’ll have a plate thingy too. With ham.’
The short skirted girl took the order, and then shimmied across to
another man sitting on his own.
‘He’ll get the order in first.’ said Kyle, ‘Just watch.’
‘It’s alright,’ she said, ‘in relative terms that means I have more
time to spend with you.’
‘With me?’ Kyle was still uncertain where this was going.
‘Yes of course with you. You do know how I feel?’
‘I believe I know how you feel…’ he made an attempt to be bold,
and fiddled with a spoon, ‘you like the ghost. He can get anywhere.’
‘I think that would describe it. In part at least,’ she made a face as
the coffee was set down in front of her, and reached for the brown
sugar, ‘I believe you might be able to help me… in a way. Solve a
problem I have had for a long time.’
‘Oh?’ Kyle paused as the salads arrived with a suitable flourish of
well-oiled waitress speak.
‘Just go!’ said Sam to the taller of the two woman who seemed
intent on hovering and ear wigging on their conversation; ‘It’s a
problem,’ she added spooning in yet more sugar, ‘they think there is
something interesting to be trawled for. I get fed up of their little
minds ping-ponging snippets round like bouncy toys in a ball pool.’
Kyle stirred his tea. She had at least decided to meet in a public
place. That was a move in the direction he wanted to go in. She
prodded a prawn with a fork.
‘Everything alright? With the lunch I mean?’
‘Oh… yeah. The food is great. It’s just the staff that are morons. I
don’t know how some of them remember to breathe. It’s a good job it
is in the automatic systems of the brain. They wouldn’t survive
another shift otherwise. Kyle shrugged and turned to his salad. It was
something to do with the past and being teased at school, he
concluded. That must be it. She seemed to have more than the
reasonable attributes of the hardened geek, and a few other things as
well.
‘I need you to do something for me Kyle. And I wouldn’t ask
unless it was really important.’
‘What?’
‘Not here. I just need your agreement first.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. You’re the man. There’s no one else. I need a way in.’
‘A way into what?’ Kyle was feeling the salivary response to the
immanence of a challenge.
‘It is very difficult. One might even say impossible. Or I thought it
was once impossible. But now….’
‘You think I can do it?’
‘Yes.’ her eyes gleamed.
‘How long?’
‘That depends on how good you are; and how much info you
already have.’
‘Ah!’ Kyle knew she was fishing. He didn’t tell her much, but she
knew there was so much. So many secrets. Where did they overlap?
Were they on the same side in this? Could she be trusted? He stabbed
a slice of cucumber and considered the nuances of the situation. She
hadn’t any friends that he knew about; not female anyway, and she
was wholly devoted to whatever it was she did in fact do…. which of
course they couldn’t discuss. Official Secrets Act and all that. She was
in a bubble of secrecy and so was he. They weren’t so different. Not
really.
‘Let’s meet later, and talk about it some more.’ he said.
‘Yes.’ She smiled, and then turned to the pile of prawns. She was
smiling to herself and her eyes unfocused. Kyle watched her out of the
corner of his eye as her reached for the pepper. She might be bad? But
how bad does a lonely woman have to be? Was she a sleeper? Or a
spy? Or just someone who needed some help? He knew he would help
her when she looked up at him. It was the way she held the fork; so
well balanced, so carefully positioned with the right amount of
pressure to the keep it there: right on the point of balance. She has me,
he thought, and smiled back.
Kyle sat watching the kitchen timer. Somewhere in some other
part of the house Gina was trying on a dress. It was a very pretty thing
with straps and little dangly bits and small shiny pinkish beads. Kyle
honestly wasn’t sure which way up the thing could be when Gina was
spreading it over the back of one of the big settees and going Oh! and
Ah! in a variety of almost pre-coital gasps. Gina exuded sex appeal
the same way that dogs leave behind muddy foot prints - not all the
time, but with enough regularity to make you aware that there is
something going on. Kyle sighed. Gina was fun, and rather chatty in
an upbeat and extraordinarily intellectual way. She seemed to think
that the latest updates on the colour coding were her idea; and kept
going on about the ‘Salmon coloured boxes’ as if they were the most
important. They might match her dress but they were one of those
colours that meant everything is okay. At that moment Sam (annoying
friend of the male persuasion) walked in.
He picked up the note and the box of matches; he took two out
and stood there holding them while staring at the note.
‘Not in here.’ Kyle said as he was about to strike them on the
outside of the box.’
‘Yeah. Right. Sorry.’ he wandered into the hall and Kyle heard the
click of the receiver being lifted. He turned back to the vegetables.
Potatoes and broad beans, Sam had a thing about carrots. So he had
deliberately not included them. It was one of those annoying habits
that your friends have of telling you the same story a bazillion times,
even though you know and they know that you have heard it before.
Carrots used to be purple; they were bred to be orange. Ergo: modern
carrots are not as good as purple carrots and George ought to grow
some in the conservatory. To which Kyle would retort Give up
smoking! in an annoyed tone. Well as much as he could muster. His
thoughts turned to Samantha, again. Tomorrow all would be revealed.
She was a manipulator who had the added edge of being able to talk
straight and not resort to social chit-chat except as an aside to ones
cover in a public place. Her distain was obvious. And her lifestyle so
clouded with mystery that he had let it remain one of those things.
Not for much longer, he decided. Tomorrow. A trade. You tell. I
tell. I do. You do. Fair’s fair. Yeah. That was it.
Kyle leaned back and George put on his serious glasses. The ones
that told you to hang on to the edge of the ride, because there’s a big
drop on the switch back coming.
‘I think we have a problem.’ George took his glasses off. He
rubbed the bridge of his nose. Kyle waited, knowing what was
coming.
‘Get the small lap top.’ said George, ‘I think we need some
background.’
Kyle fetched the super speedy one…. That machine for fast and
loose, low level stuff. They trawled the internet. Always straight in
with the obvious. Hidden in plain view.
‘Bloody hell!’ Sam pointed, ‘He used to work for the University.’
‘Lots of people used to work for the University, don’t get that
excited just yet.’
Kyle fished around some more. There was a reasonable amount,
nothing really personal. All quite dated information. Nothing recent.
‘He really was retired then,’ said Sam, ‘or he perhaps went into
another line of business.’
Kyle marvelled that Sam had a surge of intelligence right after
eating something. Perhaps he wasn’t as careful about his healthy diet
as he claimed.
‘A Man cannot live by bread alone,’ George was saying, ‘he
needs bacon too. This guy is too clean. A light one should do it Kyle?’
‘Yeah,’ Kyle grinned, a little after dinner hack. Nice and simple
nothing too fancy. Just in and out, but carefully. Don’t want to alert
anyone.
A few minutes later they were staring at printouts.
‘He is who he says he is.’ said Sam, ‘I wonder….’
George was in thinking mode too. ‘This book has travelled a long
way. And this….’ here he picked up the metal plate that was included
in the package, ‘….is a label from something inside a vault
somewhere. It was deliberately…. Anonymised. If that is the right
word.’
‘Just adding it to the dictionary.’ said Kyle lightly.
George and Sam bent over the diary and Kyle joined them.
‘This is old…. Very old. It is not just written by one person.’
‘So how far back does it go?’ Kyle asked, 'I can check some
records if you want right now.’
‘No. This is different. This is something that won’t be on a hard
drive. And I’m guessing it’s the only copy.’
‘Why would someone give it up?’ said Sam,’ I mean…. Why not
just make a copy?’
‘Because,’ said George, ‘They weren’t able to. They could not
because this was sent to me in the process of a person’s will. I know
who they are…. Were… but this is the final resting place of secrets
that were so dangerous that no copies were ever made…’
‘No… surely not?’ Sam said, then ‘Really? May I see?’
‘Look as much as you want, I’m going out.’
‘No! George! It’s pie night. Can’t this wait?’
‘Afraid not. The building is due to be demolished tomorrow.’
‘What building?’ Sam said,
‘The one where our fella here used to live. There were protests but
to no avail. No one lives there. But there may be secrets that no one
can tell. The place might give up its dead even yet.’
‘What about Gina?’ Kyle asked reasonably.
‘What about her? She is coming with us. She can remember
anything we find. Recall the details.’
‘And what are you going to do George?’
‘I will take pictures.’ he slid his compact into a pocket. ‘There
might be something in the building itself. Something will tell us where
to start. There is a place that is hidden somewhere in the city. And it’s
deep down. Right under everything. That is what the diary says. But
that is all in the past. All of it. We are all subject to some sort of
demolition order.’
They trod carefully. ‘It seems such a shame.’ Sam moved round to
the right, past a large chunk of plaster.
‘Shh!’ we might not be the only ones here.’ George slid past
hollows of shadowed night.
They found the rooms on the second floor. There was mess
everywhere.
‘Might it be safe to say, that there is nothing to find here?’ Kyle
this time, he shivered against the chill, and pulled his zipper further
up.
Sam traced an arc of light over the main room. It was hard to
imagine what it might have been like, all that time ago.
‘Wait…. What was that?’ George went forward to the edge of the
fireplace. He took out his penknife and prodded with deliberate force.
There was a sudden rush of mortar and a gleam in the stone work.
‘What the…?’ Sam held aloft the torch.
In George’s hand was the tiny banding of an as yet unidentified
piece of metal. A sudden sound and George slipped the item in the
deep pocket of his padded coat.
‘I say….’ A stage whisper from Gina, who was stood near the
doorway motionless; ‘I think we better go now…’
They moved softly to the left of the fireplace and Gina joined
them. Someone was moving through the dark, entering this same
room, moving around systematically as if they were looking for
something too.
‘Hey!! You!!’ George moved as suddenly as he spoke. He had the
Man in an arm lock and Sam was holding the other by the scruff of the
neck and grinning in amusement.
‘I swear, I promise, I didn’t do it!’
‘He’s right. Yo! Right there. Just chilling, nothing doing…’ he
felt silent as Sam jerked him higher by the collar.
‘Now then lads,’ said George reasonably, ‘we’re where we are not
supposed to be; but considering that we are under orders if you will, I
think that the plod would perhaps conclude that you might be
interfering in a legitimate investigation.’
‘Investigation?’ said the one George was holding, ‘We saw the
others, they were here…. They were investigating too.’
‘Who was that?’
‘Dunno.’
‘I think you better tell us.’ said George.
Sam nodded and grinned at the one he was holding. The lad
laughed nervously and nodded back, ‘Yes. We’ll tell you. Promise.’
his voice was slightly squeaky, perhaps from being grabbed from
behind by Sam. Sam dropped him down a little, but kept a tight grip
on his coat.
‘Yeah. We saw them. Two of them,’ said the first one to George,
‘He was a big man, in a dark jacket and he had a kind of hood on.’
‘More....’ said George.
‘Like a monk’s hood!’ squeaked the second, ‘it was sort of floppy.
We ran away.’
‘Now why would you do that?’
‘Well, it was like a….. you know.’
‘Oh! You mean a ghost?’ said Sam conversationally.
‘Yeah! I mean Shh…. It might hear you.’
‘So tell me what are you doing back here,’ said George 'if a ghost
in a cowl frightened you off?’
‘We…. Err….’ he looked at squeaky.
‘Well Gentlemen,’ said George, ‘this is the end of the party. I
guess we’ll just have to ask you to leave now.’
‘But….’
‘You heard the man.’ said Sam, ‘Now scoot…’
They looked hesitant and kept looking back.
When they had gone down the stairwell, George moved to the left
of the fire place and wiggled a loose brick. He reached in and pulled
out a packet wrapped in some heavy polythene.
‘Is that what I think it is?’
‘You bet.’ George turned it over, ‘I suppose I will have to hand
this in.’
‘Do they know anything?’ asked Kyle who was staring at the
packet. George handed it to him and then rolled his shoulders back. ‘It
is a den of thieves. They have probably gone to get another stash
somewhere else in the building.’
‘Sad that it will all go up in smoke tomorrow.’ Sam remarked.
‘That is probably why they were back here. It’s a perfect pick up
and drop off point for the dealers.’
‘They were dealers?’ said Kyle appalled, ‘Shouldn’t we turn them
in?’
‘Not now we’ve got their stash.’
‘One of their stashes.’ said Sam.
‘I think they’ve gone.’ Gina moved slightly so that she was
silhouetted against the light from the doorway. They made their way
quickly down and slid through the bent sheeting. George was just
pushing it back into place when he saw a flashlight and heard more
shouting.
‘I think they have a flaw in their otherwise perfect plan.’ George
moved away and shoved his hands in his pockets.
‘I say, George?’ asked Gina, ‘Do you think there is any chance of
calling at the all night bakery? I’m famished.’
‘Of course Gina.’ George said smoothly, ‘That’s a very good
idea.’
In the brightly lit Mini Market Gina rotated round the small
colourful shelves while George stood by a revolving rack with his
phone, ‘I think that our demolition might be scheduled to start a little
earlier than originally planned.’ he said.
‘Because?’ Sam looked irritated. Kyle saw it and wondered at his
inability to catch up with what was happening if it was electronically
controlled. He caught Kyle’s eye, ‘It doesn’t make sense.’ he said.
‘We reset it.’ said Kyle, ‘It’s easy.’
‘But that’s just wrong!’
‘Really,’ said George mildly, while still staring at the phone, ‘You
really need to get past the need to control everything with the power
of will alone. Not everything can be persuaded. Some things have to
be, well, frankly brought to point of destruction.’
‘But it’s wrong.’
‘Were you protesting about architecture?’ asked Kyle.
‘Well; in a manner of speaking… not as such. Yes… I suppose. In
spirit anyway. You know what I mean.’
‘Not really.’ said Kyle.
‘Ready Boys?’ Gina came bouncing up with a mini carrier full of
goodies. They followed George to the SUV and climbed in.
‘Drink?’ said George.
‘You can drop me off at home. Tell me all about it tomorrow. I
have some studying to do.’
‘It’s that University thingy?’
‘Open University.’ said Sam.
‘Nothing wrong with bettering oneself.’ George grinned at Gina
who was burrowing into a pile of marshmallows.
‘What about you?’ said Gina to Kyle.
‘Pardon?’
‘Do you want a giant rope mallow?’
‘I’ll pass.’
‘Where do you want to be?’
‘I don’t know.’ said Kyle glumly. He did have his own place. A
tiny bedsit with a wardrobe and a bed buried under piles of books. He
had tidied it up, just last week. His permanent room at George’s and
semi-houseguest status gave him total freedom of choice. George did
live in a really big house. But even that could not dampen the sound of
Gina in full on excitable mode. He understood Sam. Gina was
annoying him by simply being there. They had made peace a while
ago. But the fact of George and her having what can only be described
as animalistic and enthusiastic sex that lasted for hours was enough to
put him off late night scrabble with Kyle.
‘I need to sort out… you know…. I’ll see you in the…. err…’
‘Morning?’ George asked.
Kyle glanced at Gina fuelling up for the late evening’s exercise
and shuddered inwardly.
‘Yeah. I need to ring Sam Parker. We need to chat about….’
‘The science girl?’ said Gina brightly, ‘I like her.’
‘Thanks.’ said Kyle, ‘she’s interesting.’
‘Darling;’ Gina drawled, ‘one should never describe a woman you
like as interesting; it’s a total passion killer. She is intelligent, or
smart, or fabulous!’
‘Fabulous?’ Kyle wasn’t sure about saying something so
flamboyant. But with Gina looking like she and George were about to
get down and be fabulous as she put it; he thought that a little late
night sci-fi and some sandwiches might be just the ticket. There were
some cool beers in the fridge and thinking hard about going into a
dark place of the inner world of electronic architecture made him want
to snack.
‘I’ll be round at Elevenish… or later.’ He waved as they sped off
in the car. He turned and let himself in.
As it turned out, Kyle overslept. He woke with a lightness of
heart, and a full set of teeth… He was a traumatised child who had
been threatened with the tooth fairy if he wasn’t good (not Mum’s
doing). He went to brush his teeth, and put the coffee machine on. The
tiny flat looked cheery in the morning light. Kyle yawned a few times
and padded round the room looking for stray mugs. He found three,
and using another (clean) one, spooned in coffee.
Someone was knocking on the door. Actually they were knocking
on it quite insistently. He ignored it. And then after a minute
concluded that it might actually be someone he wanted to see. Then,
as he sauntered towards his front door, he saw a shape wobbling
behind the glass.
‘What do you want?’ Kyle blinked into the light from the hallway
opposite big windows and right next to the communal stairwell.
‘Kyle! It’s me.’
‘Me who?’
‘It’s Juliet! Can I come in for a minute?’
‘Hi…. Juliet. Yeah… I mean alright. What is this about? I don’t
usually take early morning visitors…’
‘It’s eleven o’clock.’ said Juliet and pushed past him into the cosy
sitting room. Kyle followed and turned into the tiny kitchen, ‘Do you
want Coffee, Tea…. Err, anything?’
‘Tea… no sugar.’
‘So what is the purpose of your visit?’ Kyle saw her face, ‘sorry,
it’s habit. What's up Juliet?’
‘The thing is' she said as the kettle started to boil, 'the thing is I
don’t know how to tell Sam what is happening. And you and George
seem a little more….. well…..um…’
‘Involved?’
‘I wasn’t going to say that. But since you pointed it out. Yes, I
think I can get access.'
'Access?' Kyle stirred milk in and handed her the cup, 'Are we
talking about Sandglass ?'
Juliet sipped and shook her head, 'I have dreams.....I'm sorry,
really, to bother you.....'
'I want to listen. So go ahead, there's nothing else on today.
Except..... what time is it?' Kyle had that nagging feeling that someone
was about to get kicked. Probably him. He yawned and refocused on
Juliet.
'Nearly Twelve.' Juliet didn't look how he remembered her. She
was stressed and edgy. Even with his limited experience he saw that
things might not be going as well as expected or desired between her
and Sam. Sam Wright.... He would have to think of a way round his
mental block on that front.
'Tell me.' he cleared a space on the small settee. Juliet perched
like a nervous budgie. For the next five minutes she talked without
pausing. She stared at him with hollow eyes.
'I can't tell George. I sound mad. '
'Err what about Sam?'
'It's....complicated.'
'We're not that close. The group I mean.' Kyle ruffled his hair and
put the now empty mug down, 'Sam and me. George is more the one
to deal with stuff like that. He is a Doctor. '
'I know. That is why I came to you. Your suspension of disbelief.'
'And my rather specialist skills?'
'Yes.' she just stared.
'Alright.' he saw her visibly relax. That a one tiny tear was leaking
out of her left eye. She blinked.
'When shall I come back?' she asked.
'What? No. We do it right now.' he rummaged in a cupboard; then
plugged in the old faithful.
'Full name?'
'Juliet Jean Penn.'
'Cool....' said Kyle.
'My name?'
'There's three of you. At least.'
'Gosh! Can I see?'
'Just let me do my thing. It will print it out over there.’ The printer
sprang into life as he spoke. Juliet hurried to watch the sheets come
out.
'But they are all Me.' she sounded disappointed.
'Slightly different birthdays. Registration in different towns. See?'
'But what does this mean?'
'It means you have to talk to George.'
'Why? I mean this is not about anyone else.'
'It is.' Kyle said mildly, 'There leakage of parallel worlds into each
other. Most people don't notice. That's why there are so many
conflicting versions of the same event; even allowing for any
individual's personal interpretation of it. We need to learn how to
really look at things; beneath the normal; beyond the edges; outside
the frame.'
'So what do I do now?'
'You really want my advice?'
'Sure.'
'Go home. Drink something. Watch a movie with a fifteen rating
or below. Eat anything you want.'
'Thanks Kyle. Keep me updated?'
'Sure thing Jules.'
She smiled, 'Thanks Kyle.'
A moment later she was gone and Kyle was left wondering how
the hell he would deal with George's annoyance. This was off the
road. But like he always said, if you want to stop the Lion eating you,
you better offer more than just a good light snack. Yeah. George
better behave.
*****
Chapter Two
Sandwiches & Cold Science
‘Alright; what is the state of play?’ Kyle was ringing out a wet
flannel. He put it on his head.
‘When did you last sleep?’ George seemed concerned.
‘Err….’ Kyle tipped his head back, ‘I just got into it. You know
how it is.’
‘I know exactly how it is.’ George slid his serious metal framed
glasses on a prodded Kyle with one finger.
‘Ow!’
‘Shut up, I’m a Doctor.’
‘Your bedside manner needs a little improvement.’
‘I suppose,’ George shrugged, ‘it’s been a while. Just lay down,
and I’ll tell you what we’ve already got on this thing.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘Lay down.’
‘I’m sitting back. So talk.’
‘Alright,’ George flipped open an A4 pad, ‘the diary we received
was sent on the instructions of the will of Henry Green. He died a
little while ago. Nothing suspicious. But what he did before he died
was somewhat odd. He worked as a researcher for a branch of the
science project called ‘Arc’. It was part of something we are all
familiar with…. Vaccinations, in fact he was at one time trying to find
a cure for the common cold.’
‘Very noble.’
‘Yes, well; he was handpicked for this ‘Arc’ project, as it was
called. But it was dealing in something akin to gene therapy.’
‘Disease resistance?’
‘Finding treatments for things that are more serious. But it had
another side to it…’ George flipped the pad to the next page, ‘They
were also… get this; connected to the proposed bill to give limited
legalisation for research purposes to live human tissue.’
‘You are talking embryos aren’t you?’ Kyle winced, ‘Just say yes
or no.’
‘No….well not technically. Not your regular embryo. The
unfertilised bits of….’
‘Stop!! Please… I don’t need that kind of detail. Nothing organic,
George, please. Just keep it to… well the not icky bits.’
‘Okay. Is it alright if I tell you what they did with it eventually?’
‘I guess.’ Kyle flung the flannel to one side, ‘No small scale
yucky stuff, got it?’
‘The diary tells; or rather it implies that they made something that
no one else had managed to do. They made a clone that started at age
Zero.’
‘But I thought that had been done before? Dolly the sheep and all
that?’
‘No. The clone was born at the age of the original supplier of the
genetic material. But this was different. They were like us…’
‘Wait a minute? You said ‘they’.’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me George, when you said they were like us; you mean in
age?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what else?’
‘That is what I am trying to work out.’
‘But that is incredible!’
‘Yes, well I haven’t finished. It’s not half as incredible as what
came afterwards.’
‘Alright, do tell.’
‘Humph; yes, then we get to the really interesting bit. Given that
we don’t know what ‘they’ actually are, we will have to leave that
aside for now. Henry had a brother, and the entries made for the last
two years before Henry’s departure from this world refer to his, shall
we say peculiar relationship with his brother. It seemed they talked
about achieving this for years. But the other brother was interested in
shall we say more esoteric interests. He travelled a lot, and picked up
some souvenirs from his travels. Including, the entry made a month
before the last one says, some strange talisman from a cave in France.’
‘Really?’ Kyle sat up again, he was feeling a bit better, ‘You want
me to do some background on the brother?’
‘Yes, in a minute. But get this. The brother came home and tried
to make peace with Henry. They did spend some time together. It says
that they were at least talking. Henry admits that it was his brother’s
ideas that helped him make the cloning a success.’
‘So what was this talisman? And what was cloned?’
‘Ah; well….we don’t actually know what it was that they
succeeded in cloning. Perhaps it was a new bit of something. Spare
parts….’
‘Okay,’ said Kyle quickly ‘I get it. And the object the other
brother found?’
‘It appears to have been an object made of pure gold. Something
that he, the brother claims came from somewhere else in time.’
‘Well, yes. Of course.’ Kyle yawned, ‘Sorry. Do go on.’
‘The item was left in Henry’s keeping for a while he says. His
brother had to go on another trp. Clearly they had some trust there.
But the thing is he didn’t come back. And right up until his death
Henry never knew what happened to his brother. There was no
contact. No phone calls, no letters, nothing. Henry took it in his stride.
He was philosophical; as they say. And he looked to his trusted
solicitor to follow the instructions in the will.’
‘Which were?’
‘Henry had put the item in question somewhere for safe keeping.
And he needed to make sure as he put it: ‘It didn’t fall into the wrong
hands.’ He was certain that someone was watching his every move.
He writes that he took the object and gave it to someone who would
keep it safe. Someone who no-one could ever fool. A man who knew
secrets and would protect this valuable object. He seemed certain that
some terrible thing had befallen his Brother. And although he was
very accepting of this possibility, he was most anxious that his
Brother’s artefact was preserved.’
‘So he was a believer then after all?’
‘Perhaps.’ George tapped his biro on the page, ‘But I am more
inclined to think that it was his Brother that he was trying to protect.
This thing…. This golden key; it would attract the wrong kind of
attention. So he made it go away. And if the Brother does return, then
there is a set of instructions on how to recover the item.’
‘And they are where?’
George smiled.
‘No.’ Kyle jumped up, ‘No George, we are not doing that!’
‘I haven’t said a word.’
‘You don’t have to.’ Kyle dunked the flannel in the bowl of now
tepid water and wrung it out. He rubbed his head, ‘I need a drink.’
‘Tea?’ George changed to his lighter glasses.
‘Damn it. No! I need a stiff glass of the best.’
‘I told you it’s for Christmas.’
‘Your cheap gut rotter then. And don’t forget the ice.’
George smiling went to fetch Kyle a glass of good whisky, rather
than the super special stuff. Kyle sighed. He really needed to sleep,
but George had got him working the problem mentally already. So he
set the timer to one hour and got to work. George came back.
‘There isn’t a name for his brother?’
‘Henry referred to him as ‘Treacle’. A bit odd. It must have been a
nick name.’
‘Treacle Green?’ Kyle grinned, ‘That sounds like something from
a kid’s fantasy movie. That, or a really bad experience with the hard
stuff. Shall we ask Sam?’
‘Do you mind?’ George pushed his glass away just as Kyle was
reaching for it, ‘That’s yours.’
Back to prawns. Saturday. And that salad. Remember?
‘Are you sure you want to talk about this?’
‘What? Yes. You can handle a little light weight conspiracy I take
it?’ Sam stared at him. She tugged a strand of her fringe in an annoyed
way. That waitress was edging closer again.
Kyle turned, ‘Do you mind? This is a private conversation.’
‘Now Honey! I just was seeing if you wanted more coffee for you
and your girlfriend?’
‘My….? Look, I can see that your name is Miranda… and you are
let me guess…. Um… Twenty Three. Well I’m an evil genius. I can
make your money disappear.’
‘My money?’ the waitress looked snooty and shoved her hip to
one side and sniffed.
‘Check it if you like.’
‘You’re not really…. A whatsit… are you?’
‘No…’ said Kyle slowly, ‘I’m not a Wotsit. They are crunchy and
cheese flavoured. I am definitely neither of those two things.’
She began to back off. ‘Just wait.’ said Kyle to Sam.
Sam benignly stabbed a radish; ‘She thinks we’re dating.’
‘Apparently so. Do you care?’
‘Of course.’ said Sam, and Kyle stopped midway to spearing a
slice of smoked cheese. He looked straight at Sam, who was in turn
staring at the commotion behind the bar. And over-controlled hiss of
argument was heard. A moment later the other waitress, the one who
had first served Kyle, came over.
‘Erm…. Excuse me,’ she said, her attitude all terribly polite and
apologetic, ‘Could you please put my friend’s account back how it
was please?’
‘What account?’ Kyle waved a piece of lettuce in front of his face
to emphasize his point. He saw that Sam was grinning.
‘Please,’ the girl said, ‘I just want get home on time today.’
‘Dumps on you a lot does she?’
‘I suppose.’
‘Don’t be concerned. When the clock strikes One, all will be
restored.’
The girl quickly looked at her wrist. There was a clock behind the
bar.
‘The speaking clock.’ said Kyle.
‘Yes.’ The girl was round eyed with surprise, ‘How did you….’
‘Know?’ Kyle put his fork down, leaned forward and whispered,
‘because that one is six minutes fast.’
‘The boss....’ the girl smiled.
‘Can’t actually change time.’ Kyle became serious faced and
enigmatic, ‘But I can.’
‘She’s a very lucky girl.’ she said quietly and turned and left them
alone.
‘I sense you are trying to impress Me.’ said Sam.
‘I wasn’t. But if it did, then I will be very happy.’
‘It was sleight of hand wasn’t it? It’s a trick.’
‘Not really.’
‘They’re in on it?’
‘Not at all.’
‘What then?’
‘Well then I would have to take you out on a date,’
‘What makes you think I’d agree?’
‘You haven’t run away already.’ he sat back in the chair and
smiled.
‘Did you really do something to her bank account?’
‘No. It was an illusion.’
‘So the checking online….?’
‘When you come into my garden; it is only as real as I want it to
be,’
‘So you controlled what she saw?’
‘I manipulated what she thought she saw. The trick is to get them
to hit the right keys.’
‘Which are?’
‘Come on Parker, you said it yourself, they are not very bright.’
‘Passwords?’
‘Are the hacker’s friend. Do you know how many people use….
their name, birthday, or child’s DOB or similar?’
‘Most of them?’
‘All of them. People are stupid.’
‘Ah!’ Sam smiled pleased, ‘So doing something even slightly
sensible like using a long alphanumeric password is good?’
‘Until I know that is what you have done. The way it grows is
different. But the same principles apply.’
‘You have me.’ she said.
‘I know.’ he said.
They paid and left.
‘Alright, let’s say that I am impressed. I will grant you three
wishes.’ Sam sat on a stool in her perfectly tidy kitchen.
Kyle looked around.
‘Is it making you nervous? The help is not here today.’
‘No, it’s not that. I’ve just never seen so many flat empty
surfaces.’ He pointed at the pristine acres of counter top.
‘So this is it. I tell you what I want you to do. You do it for me.’
‘Question? Is it important?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is it a matter of national security?’
‘Not in the usual sense. No.’
‘I see. Is it in a place that would normally require a login?’
‘Yes. But then again, that might have changed.’
‘Do you have the old login details?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good, good…. That might be all I need.’
‘But it has been changed. I don’t have access.’
‘Nothing is ever lost. Even when something is erased, it is still
there. You have to delete it really, really well, to make it disappear
completely. So what is it that you actually want?’
‘My own research notes.’
‘For what?’
‘I can’t really….’
‘Then I can’t help you.’
Sam stared, ‘Just like that. You won’t help me?’
‘Won’t, can’t. Same thing. I need all the information you have.
The more you can tell me the easier it gets.’
‘Oh.’
‘You were hoping to get this….. Research back without alerting
me to the actual contents of the file?’
‘Maybe.’
‘I need to know what I’m looking for in order to find it.’
‘Fine. I’ll need to think about this.’ Sam stayed on the stool in the
sterile kitchen. She sat very still, thinking. Kyle waited.
‘I don’t know what I’m doing.’ she said at last, ‘But I need that
back. Otherwise I cannot help myself, never mind anything else. How
open minded are you?’
‘Are we talking in the real world?’
‘Yes. In the valley of the real, all things you find both dark and
light; the silent snake and….’
‘The bird in flight.’ Kyle said the last words together with her.
‘You know it.’ said Sam.
‘Yes. It is one of those things that I like to recite before a difficult
job. I mean a potentially empty bag job.’
‘One when you come out without the goods?’
‘Yes.’
‘I love that verse…. I don’t remember where it is from.’
‘A writer before 2020. Songs of Summer… I think.’
‘What was their name?’
‘I never did know….it was left anonymously. That is why I think
of it. Like leaving roses with no note.’
‘That might be considered Poetic, as in sentimental.’ Sam looked
him in the eye.
‘It just might be they were secretive and shy. And it meant
something to someone else. A bit of a message in a bottle.’
‘So are you ready for this?’
‘Your secret?’
‘Some of it.’
‘All of it.’ Kyle stared at her. They said opposite each other like
two combatants about to do battle; in chess or in a computer game.
‘I am going to break my own rules.’
‘They are your rules to break.’ Kyle said.
‘Not these.’
‘You must what this info really badly.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘So I can get back to where it began.’
‘Your Boss?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Yes you did. It is about Drucker?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me about the Sandwich.’
‘Why. It is important?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘It gives me reason to attempt to hack a Government database.’
‘What makes you think it is that?’
‘You said you were smart.’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You implied it.’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me then.’
‘There is a hidden file. It is encrypted. But it is encrypted
manually. Not a user program. But the file itself it hidden inside a
super computer. It is like trying to storm a fortress.’
‘I see.’
‘Doesn’t that bother you?’
‘You are talking to the best in the business. You want the best
hack in. I can do it. Do you want the file deleting from its place of
origin?’
‘You can do that?’
‘Yes.’
‘That depends on certain factors.’
‘Which are?’
‘Whether I can find a piece of hardware or not.’
‘What kind of hardware?’
‘A very big piece of hardware.’
‘How big?’
‘Huge.’
‘How huge are we talking?’
‘About the same size as this kitchen.’
‘I see.’ Kyle digested this. They were silent for a few moments.
Kyle straightened himself.
‘Do you want to stay?’ Sam looked at him with a curious
questioning look.
‘Stay where? On the team?’
‘No, yes. It was a different question.’
‘Stay for tea?’
‘Yes.’
‘What are you having for tea…? Sorry, I mean yes.’ he slid off the
stool.
‘Now I have broken your train of thought.’
‘No. You made me think about some things simultaneously.’
‘Multitasking?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you really going to help me?’
‘I think…..yes. I will. It is too tempting.’
‘I have you then?’ she smiled and slid off the stool into his
personal space, stepped back, then stepped forward again. And then
when he made no move, reached up and lightly kissed him on the
cheek.
‘That was nice.’ said Kyle.
‘Yes. It was…. I think I would like to do that again.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Kyle?’
‘Yes.’
‘I really like what you do.’
‘Okay.’
‘It is very smooth. I saw this; when you first came round here with
your friends.’
‘The question is how did you know?’
‘A mystery.’ she said.
‘A challenge. Are you going to tell me?’ he asked.
‘No. I’ll let you work it out.’ She tipped her head back slightly so
they were nose to nose.
‘When you get inside some systems, you can get lost in there.’
said Kyle.
‘Is it difficult to find your way out?’ asked Sam.
‘Yes.’
‘What do you do if you can’t find the way out?’
‘You disconnect manually.’
‘How?’
‘Reach under the desk and pull the plug out. And shut down.’
‘Does it work?’
‘It’s ugly. It’s better to extract yourself gently and carefully.’
She moved closer, ‘And what if you don’t want to leave?’
‘Then you are in real danger of being discovered.’
‘Is that so?’ she said reaching up and gently kissing him.
Samantha and Sandwiches. Yeah. All good stuff. Kyle was given
a glass of ginger beer and told to not get in the way. She created mess.
It was wonderful. Like the exploding fragments of a student party.
'Here it is.' she presented him with a multi-layered sandwich
skewered with a giant cocktail stick to hold it all together.
'Wow!' was all he could say.
'There are extra gherkins if you like.'
'I do like,' he felt himself smiling, smiling in a way that was
expanding into a stupid grin. This magnificent woman! She made him
his dream sandwich.....
'So we do have a deal?'
'Yes.' Kyle stared at the sandwich in admiration before taking a
bite. If Sam (detective man) had been here he would have been
reading the labels on the jars. Idiot. Very, very idiotic, in fact, Kyle
mused; a man, who fails to keep that winsome creature Juliet in a state
of general cheeriness, was definitely an idiot.
Kyle was not thinking straight, due to an excess of something
without a specific name; let’s call it ‘Brain Neutralisation Rays’. It
only works on boys, and it only works if the woman is really
determined. Durgh!! When aren't they? And then there was Juliet.....
Sweet, innocent Juliet. Who was determined, smart, and very much in
need of a reassuring hug; but not from Kyle. He had forgotten all
about the Juliet thing; and George, who was at this moment grinding
his teeth in frustration had not heard from Kyle all day. Kyle ate the
sandwich and felt happy. A freak event when not brought about by
science fiction, peanut butter or hacking into an online shop and
setting all the women's underwear prices to one penny per item.
Kyle arrived back just as the sun was setting. He went in the front
door, and letting it swing shut behind him, started to unzip his coat.
He heard an odd noise a moment later. At first he thought it was the
sound of George’s washing machine. It was the television in the
conservatory. It had been pulled forward to give one a better view of
the garden. George himself was nowhere in sight. Kyle flicked it off.
He was puzzled. This wasn’t like George at all. He went through to
the garden. He turned round and round, puzzled. Just then he heard a
sound. Something like a sigh. There in the half-light a shape.
‘George!’ Kyle hissed hoarsely, ‘Where are you?’
There is was again: a moan.
‘Oh my God!’ Kyle found George face down in the flower bed.
He pulled him over. George moaned and started to move. ‘I’m
alright.’ He lifted an arm in front of his face, ‘Mostly.’
‘Okay. Where’s Gina.?’
‘Gina?’ George tried to sit up, ‘Who?’ he sagged back down
again.
‘This is bad. Very, very bad.’ Kyle fumbled for his phone.
‘Find Sam.’ said George in a vague way, ‘He needs to get to the
archive….’ he sagged backwards again.
About three quarters of an hour later, they were sat in the kitchen
with the radio on and a strong tea steaming in front of them both. Sam
was on his way over. George had refused to go to the hospital. The
paramedic admitted that the only thing to be done was to keep an eye
on him; and then insisted that he make a police report if he wouldn’t
let them take him to hospital.
‘You’re concussed.’
‘I’m fine.’ said George, who was sat without his glasses on and
flipped open a notebook on the table in front of him.
‘Gina is on her way.’ Kyle said, ‘I hope you’re sure you don’t
want to go to hospital.’
‘Gina will look after me.’ He grinned then, which faded a moment
later into a grimace, ‘My head really hurts. Who hit me?’
‘We asked you that.’ said Kyle.
‘Yes. Yes of course you did.’ George sipped the tea. Just at that
moment there was the distant rattle of the doorbell.
‘Thank the Lord for that!’ Kyle felt that his nursing skills were not
his best feature, and anyway he needed to check if the person or
persons had been in the computers. There was no point in explaining
this to the police. They didn’t know what it did; and if they found out,
then he, Kyle might be charged with something that was akin to not
having a license when driving a heavy goods vehicle.
A minute later he had let in Gina, and a rather moody Sam. Gina
had given him a lift over here. And he had that look of one who has
been interrupted in the middle of a really good movie; as in,
absolutely pissed off.
Sam flung himself in to the nearest comfortable chair. Kyle went
to make tea and biscuits; it seemed the least offensive and most
sensible thing right now.
‘There were three.’ said George, just as Kyle returned with a tray.
Sam had his cigarettes out and was fiddling with the contents of the
packet in a way that suggested that he was not really in need of just a
smoke to alleviate more than a little aggravation of a complex and
distressing kind. Kyle felt a small wavelet of guilt, as he watched Sam
nervously fiddle with the packet. Juliet. What was wrong there? Kyle
had tried to keep his distance from the females of the species that the
other two seemed keen to drape around themselves and their lives at
will. Until Parker had appeared on the edge of his world, Kyle had
been happy to be a neutral observer, who interacted on that level that
made him sexless and semi invisible in their eyes. In fact, until Parker
had brought him to everyone’s attention, he could not imagine Juliet
calling round at his flat in a state of vulnerability however ‘safe’
around girls he might be.
He went to the kitchen.
‘Coffee?’
‘What?’ Kyle looked up, to see a solicitous Gina holding a mug
and spoon in a suggestive way.
‘Yeah. I mean thanks.’
‘Jolly good,’ said Gina, ‘But don’t you think George should be
checked out? He’s acting weird.’
‘He won’t go. You make him.’
‘He said that you made him sit down.’
‘I did,’ Kyle gritted his teeth, ‘so that the paramedic could take a
good look at him. You ring them if you’re worried.’
‘I did. They will be back in Ten minutes.’
‘Oh.’
‘And the police said they want a statement. I made them tea. I
mean they need to stay calm. Too much coffee might be a bad thing.
Don’t you think?’
‘Where?’
‘The front room. Sam is talking to them.’
‘But he wasn’t here when it happened.’
‘Yes…’ Gina looked puzzled, ‘he called 999. Did someone hit
you over the head too?’
‘No, I….’ Kyle stood, ‘I’ll just go and have a word anyway.’ He
meandered through to the lounge and stared. There was no one there.
He looked behind the long ceiling to floor heavy curtains. It was quiet
and there was a mug on the table near to the lamp as if someone had
just a few minutes got up out of the chair. He felt the mug. It was still
warm.
‘Kyle!’
‘What?’ he spun round expecting Sam or one of the policemen,
George stood in the doorway with his glasses on carrying a
newspaper. He dropped them down his nose and looked over the tops
at Kyle.
‘I was looking for you. Where have you been?’
‘Where have I been?’ He started to move and stopped, ‘Where
have I been? I thought you were in here.’
‘No.’ George straightened, ‘I was upstairs, I shouted. Why didn’t
you answer?’
‘I just got back.’
George frowned, in that way he did when Kyle was taking the
piss.
‘Ha ha. Now where were you? We have some results on the
possible location of the archived talisman. It’s….’ a noise in the
background stopped them.
‘I wasn’t here.’ Kyle said, ‘You were in the…. garden. In the
flowerbed.’
‘I was upstairs.’
‘Where’s Gina?’
‘Gina?’ George turned and started to walk through to the kitchen,
‘Gina is doing Yoga I would imagine. That, or she getting an early
night. Why are you asking?’
‘But….she was here; a moment ago. She said she’d make me
coffee. You bumped your head….’
They went into the kitchen. George spun round, ‘Look, I
appreciate the effort, but you can lay off now. That is enough. I don’t
want to play this game. What’s got into you?’
‘No Game.’ said Kyle, ‘There is something weird with reality. I
swear to you it’s the truth.’
‘Alright,’ said George, ‘let’s say for a moment that you were
telling me this straight, and then tell me how, in the name of little blue
Smurfs do you explain this?’
Kyle looked and he saw the laptop on the kitchen and a
newspaper, and an image on the screen. It was Kyle’s login icon.
George touched the mouse and the screen displayed several open
images of the ‘Time Map’.
Kyle just stared in disbelief. He had come back in late. And he
hadn’t had time to get the computer out. And Gina was here and Sam.
And he felt funny. He sat down rather suddenly.
‘I say,’ said George, ‘what’s the matter with you?’
‘I…. err....’
‘Goodness. You have a massive bruise appearing.’
‘Where?’
‘On your head! You must tell me. When did it happen?’
‘I… don’t know.’ Kyle answered truthfully. The more he tried to
remember the fuzzier it got. Until he thought about the moment that
Gina offered him a coffee. He went to the drawer and looked inside.
All the spoons were in the holder. Everything was tidy.
‘I’ll make a coffee,’ said George, still watching him, ‘We really
need to talk.’
‘No. I mean I’ll have tea instead. This is not happening.’ he
looked at the graphic on the top of the stack of open boxes on the
screen. It was trying to tell him something. It was as if some alternate
part of himself was leaving him a message. He couldn’t see why. It
was boxes and numbers. And then he had it… a phone number. He got
a pen and scribbled it down.
‘Mobile?’
‘George handed him the handset. He dialled and looked at the
resulting deadline tone as probably meaning something. Look it up.
He did while George stirred the tea. That was better. A number
nearby. One that had existed a few years ago. But not now. It was a
number for a ‘Prim Jensen’, a female. That was, he found it was short
for ‘Primula’. A bit like the name of cheese spread. It was turning into
a very cheese themed day. Perhaps a bit too much for this liking. The
connection. She was now…. working for an agency. So what? He
prodded some more. Mrs Jenson, she was on the books of ‘Speedy
Services’…. Housekeeping services. Come on brain!
‘I think you need to be looked at.’ George was doing his worried
face.
‘Look at me then.’
‘Someone else.’
‘Nada. Not doing it Big guy. This is not just a slippage in time.
This is…. Well something else entirely. Interaction with other people
was included. A separate short parallel.’
‘Here?’ George looked irritated. ‘Not here.’
‘Why not?’
‘I won’t allow it.’
‘Come on George. Don’t be silly. You can’t prevent it.’
‘I should though.’ he picked up his mug and swigged it
purposefully; ‘This is getting personal. I will get very annoyed in a
minute.’
‘Good.’
‘And that bump on your head does look bad.’
‘I can’t feel a thing.’
‘That is bad. Really not good….’ George left the room. Kyle
turned and then he smelt smoke. And then he saw the table was
empty, except for the usual jars and stuff in the middle and the salt
and pepper grinders. And a pad of sticky notes. Realising that he had a
pen in his pocket Kyle grabbed the sticky notes and wrote a big ‘4’ on
it. He stuck it into the middle of the table. He went through to the
lounge. Gina and George were canoodling. ‘5’ was stuck on the coffee
table. He went to the conservatory, George sat watching the TV: a
documentary on buried treasure in the Mediterranean. He stuck a ‘6’
on the glass top of the little table there.
‘I will keep doing this until you stop It.’ he said to no-one in
particular.
He went back in the kitchen. No one there. He sat down. And then
a moment later a sharp pain put an end to his consciousness.
Kyle woke up in a hospital bed, and knew that he was alright.
Everything that he remembered was clear. But the throb in his head
was annoying. But because of that it was evidence. There was
something to be said for being naturally secretive. Later he had a brief
conversation with a medic. They made notes. Kyle was as obtuse as
he knew how to be without deliberately giving them the idea that he
had been hit on the head just a little too hard, and needed to be kept in
longer.
‘Unknown assailant.’ muttered Kyle to himself, as Juliet sat
staring at him across George’s kitchen table. She gave no indication of
the conversation that they had had a couple of days ago. Sam came
back in and started talking to Kyle about the latest developments. He
couldn’t find these archives. It was impossible. Apparently. Kyle
smiled to himself. Of course. Why make it easy? This disturbance in
the Time Flow was a series of ripples of events; several close together
and then everything went back to the normal flow. Or did it? Kyle
wasn’t so sure. Sam got out a tobacco tin. Uh oh! Kyle paid attention;
this could be that little detail that gave it away.
‘Will you stop looking narky?’ Sam said, ‘I thought I’d give it a
try. It takes ages to roll the bloody things. And they keep going out.
Ergo: I smoke less. It was silly just to stick to the others. This is so
annoying that I’m bound to give up in the end.’
‘Good Call.’ said Kyle, he turned to Juliet, but she stood up and
stalked out of the room, ‘Was it something I said?’
Sam stood, ‘Nah, don’t sweat it mate, she’s well…. You know.’
‘Actually… I don’t know.’ said Kyle, ‘So sort the bloody situation
out! A drippy girl puts me off my Kung Fu.’
‘Really?’ Sam looked cross, ‘Shall I tell Juliet what you just
said?’
‘If you like. Maybe she will think it’s a declaration of love;
slagging the other guy off!’
‘Point taken,’ said Sam, ‘I’ll go and talk to Juliet.’
‘Piss off then,’ said Kyle, ‘and don’t come back in looking like
that. It’s bad for my Karma.’
‘Your Karma?’
‘My Aura.’
‘Shut up.’ said Sam grinning. He left to find Juliet.
Kyle turned back to the computer screen, and sighed with
satisfaction. This was more like it. So what had they got so far?
Treacle Green; his brother Henry; a golden artefact; an archive no one
could find however hard they tried…. Samantha’s need to get to the
file that was hidden inside an obscure archive of a different kind; and
then the ‘hardware’ something big, very big…. What? He reasoned
that the one place where this thing could be hidden was in the same
place that the artefact resided. But what was this thing? Drucker was
the key…. Or was he? But he had disappeared. So think; what was the
connection between a scientist who wanted to find the Theory of
everything - a unified field theory; and one who had worked on
cloning and genetic research? Kyle prodded a key or two. Was there
even a connection? And why was it that Samantha seemed to know
what he had been doing even though no one ever knew what he was
doing?
Different approach…. There was something solid, an actual object
that connected the concepts in both cases. Henry’s hidden object was
connected through the brother, the fact of their relationship. That was
the only connection. And this big thing that Samantha talked about;
that was part of her research. It was…. scientific, a science project.
She was like Henry then… an obsessive, a secret researcher with her
odd object. And the words that went with it? The file that he, Kyle had
been asked to retrieve. But was he just joining dots where there were
none? So… was there a connection between this Henry and Joseph
Drucker? Let’s start with that. Then a bit more background on the
brother, the oddly tagged Treacle. And lastly, where was Treacle?
Why had he made himself absent, not even reappearing for his
brother’s funeral? George had got the diary because there was a
connection to Henry. George and Henry…. Kyle and Samantha…. Of
course! George was a Doctor, and he had been called to many things
of an unusual nature. He had dealt in the last moments of some of the
people that Henry might have known. He trusted George. And so who
was the Man who could hide something so well that it could not be
found? Think… think. Kyle threw down his pencil. This was not
anything that would cave in on the first press. Kyle was inside; and
losing objectivity. The maze of the real and the thing that Sam
(Detective Man) had experienced. So where was the detection kit? In
that cupboard. He fetched it. Switched it on; set the level to low. He
waved the wand over himself. Shit! What the hell had happened?
Sam came back in followed then by George and Gina.
‘Good God!’ George took the wand off him, ‘You’re getting the
wires crossed!’
‘What is that reading George?’ Gina was craning her neck to take
in the results of the scan.
‘It means,’ said George with real relish, ‘That I can do to Kyle
what Sam has always begged me to do to him.’
‘Jolly good.’ said Sam in a flat tone.
‘Where’s Juliet?’ Gina’s neck was swivelling again.
‘She left.’ said George, without a hint of compassion. He turned to
Kyle with an attentive look, ‘You will come to the comfy chair. And
then we will find out what has been happening.’
Sam sat in the chair nearby and sullenly twirled an unlit roll up
between his finger and thumb. He had the clipboard and a list of
questions.
‘Get on with it.’ said Kyle lying back on the sofa cushions.
‘I’ll start when I’m good and ready.’
‘Fine. Then tell me about Juliet.’
‘What about her?’
‘I thought you two were getting along?’
‘Yes. We were.’ Sam turned away and Kyle couldn’t make out if
he was upset or angry with him. There were some indicators of a
strong undertow of rage and confusion. The over controlled
personality that Sam usually expressed was slipping off like a mask at
a party, when midnight approaches. Kyle began to see a side to him he
didn’t like and it was unpleasant and not at all what he was used to.
George, for all his eccentricity was much more pleasant to be around.
In fact they could be said to be good friends. If not actually ‘Besties’.
George returned with Gina, who was carrying a large tray with
tea, biscuits and Sandwiches.
‘I’m not hungry.’ said Sam.
‘Tut tut Sammy;’ Gina grinned, ‘This is for Kyle. Our lovely
computer nerd. I think he looks a little peaky, so I fixed him up with
some special double decker treats. That is after George has got the
info out of him. It will take the tea a few minutes to brew properly.’
‘Nice teapot.’ said Kyle, feeling a little embarrassed at all the
attention.
‘It’s new.’ said Gina, ‘Do you like it?’
‘Oh please!’ Sam shifted the chair, ‘Can we get on with this.’
George sat watching all this with a half-smile. He was relaxed,
which told Kyle that he had already worked out something. He would
just need Kyle to confirm it.
‘First things first,’ said George, ‘we need to find out where you
got this rather lovely rainbow of speckles.’
‘Please don’t make me have that injection!’ Kyle pleaded.
‘I think that we might not need to have it. If you answer all my
questions totally truthfully.’ George’s expression became enigmatic.
He nodded at Gina. She got up, ‘Pour it out in four more minutes
George.’ she warned and left the room.
‘So tell us where you have been since yesterday.’ said Sam.
‘I think I’d rather talk to George about all this if you don’t mind.
It’s well, you know.’
‘Fine.’ Sam got up and left. Kyle watched him leave and turned to
look at George. George just shrugged.
‘Right. Let’s find out what you have had contact with. It must be
something that you have crossed paths with recently. That’s a rather
magnificent spectrum of particles you’ve picked up.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is it like last time?’
‘A little.’ George picked up the clipboard, ‘I think you need to tell
me the truth.’
‘Juliet came to see me yesterday.’
‘I see.’
‘She can’t tell Sam. She was upset. I had a quick look. There’s a
parallel leaking through George. I told her I’d keep an eye out for
anything else that turns up. She seemed a little reassured. But that just
means that we have a bit of a divergence.’
‘They seem to be getting increasingly common at the moment,’
said George, ‘but you saw a few things that were more than just
slightly different, yes?’
‘Well, I don’t know. They might have been at that point in the
argument where things could go any which way. And several roads
lead to the same point.’
‘Mmm….. I think you may be right. So tell me about your, umm
thing with Ms Parker.’
‘I…. err….. Well……’
‘I see. So it is a thing?’
‘Sort of. I hadn’t got past a chaste and respectful kiss.’
‘I think you are way past the security screening of that tighter than
tight minded woman. You are a genius Kyle.’
‘I am?’
‘Sam Parker is in love with you.’
‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say…’
‘In love and melting with astonishment at your accomplishments
that you so readily display to no one at all.’
‘That is a puzzle.’
‘And you didn’t tell her?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Mmm…. We’ll come back to that. Tell me what you did round at
her house?’
‘We talked. And then I had a Sandwich.’
‘What kind of sandwich?’
‘A…what is this? You want a blow by blow account?’
‘Yes. At some time between yesterday and now you have come
into contact with something that infected you with those particles. It is
something we know about. But these were, well a little more exotic.
They seemed to be saying that you have been everywhere, and everywhen…’
‘Time travel items? But I didn’t touch anything.’
‘So tell me about the sandwich?’
‘Well it was good. Wholemeal and rye. Very tasty.’
‘And what did it contain?’
‘Err…. Cheese, mature cheddar, tomatoes, pastrami, red onion,
mayonnaise, slivers of cucumber, and a little tomato pickle…’ Kyle
was on a roll now.
‘Okay… just let me catch up.’ George was scribbling it all down.
‘…and there were sliced gherkins, and just a touch of banana
pickle.’
‘Was that from the market? The banana pickle?’
‘Yes… but I don’t see…’
‘Indulge me… and did you see where the gherkins came from?’
‘Well no. It was a large jar. She said they were her favourites.’
‘I bet they were.’ George shifted in his seat. ‘There is always
something they can never quite let go of.’
‘Pardon? I thought you were asking about sandwiches?’
‘I was. But this is as you said: a bit more unusual.’
‘Did I say that?’
‘Yes.’ George regarded him solidly, ‘The gherkins.’
‘The gherkins.’ Kyle almost laughed.
‘You remember the thing with the cat?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s a bit like that. You touched something that had been
somewhere else in time. That is what inflected you. But you ate
something and that can do other things. I don't quite know what just
yet.'
‘A jar of pickles?’ Kyle sat up, ‘That’s preposterous!’
‘She took something with her: when she left. She had a few things
that were personal and they would fade with the background radiation
of travel eventually. But an object that was untouched, it would hold a
charge for a long time. There must be a kitchen on this thing.’
‘What thing?’
‘Oh please! Do keep up Kyle. A time machine!!! A sodding time
machine…. right under our noses the whole time. Or it would be if we
could find it.’
‘The archive.’
‘Yes.’ George said mildly, ‘the archive.’
‘So how do we find it?’
‘We don’t. There is something I need you to do. And you need to
try to keep this professional. Don’t let her get inside your head.’
‘You mean like Gina?’ said Kyle with an edge in his voice.
‘Yes. That’s right. It’s just a good job we’re on the same side.’
‘Sam is. I’m sure of it.’
‘You don’t know that. She works for a secret project.’
‘Worked for,’ Kyle corrected.
‘Really?’ George sat back.
‘No…. I mean surely not?’
‘You love stuck fool! She’s played you. And by that I mean she
wants you to do something and you agreed.’
‘Are you saying I should go back on my word?’
‘No, that would not be right. Do what she asks. But report it back
to me. And if at the end of all this you find yourself being genuinely
stuck on this girl. I’ll give you the money for an engagement ring.’
‘I say… that’s not it… I mean it’s… I only just met her. Well six
months ago.’
‘And does anything strike you as odd about her?’
‘Well… err,’ Kyle wasn’t sure how to answer this. There were a
lot of things odd about Parker. But he was sure George didn’t mean
any of those.
‘Okay, I give up.’
‘At the time Drucker disappeared Sam Parker was his assistant
right?'
‘Well, of course…’
‘And she gave her statement to the police. And then the case
meandered along for ages with no leads.’
‘We know all this already.’
‘Yes,’ George was patient, ‘But look. See something that seems
so obvious you have probably missed it.’
‘What?’
‘When she was working for Joseph Drucker, how old would you
say she was?’
‘She was a young girl. Very young. She had won a scholarship to
study and this was her work experience year. She was the best in her
class….’
‘Yes but think Kyle!’
‘The case made the papers… I mean there wasn’t much to go on.
In those days it wasn’t like it is now; with all the technology….. Oh
my…’ Kyle sat back unstrung.
‘You see it then?’ George leaned forward.
‘But… she can’t be more than… well, I didn’t think about it.’
‘Indeed,’ George put the clipboard down. ‘She was twenty three.
Then suddenly here she is, and she is...?'
‘Well about… I should say mid-thirties. Roughly. Never ask a
lady her age.’
‘Of course not. But she would have to be a very well preserved
sixty year old or there about. And since she plainly isn’t, what do we
conclude?’
‘She has got here in a Time machine?’
George didn’t say anything, but just smiled.
‘Oh no! George I can’t!’
‘Yes, you can. And you will. She is going to tell us where it is.’
Kyle ate bacon and egg; rather as a means of recovering his sense
of reality than any need for energy right now. George was in the lab
making headway with the little metal thing. He wouldn’t let Kyle near
it, and had refused to tell him anything either, because as he pointed
out, Kyle in that case wouldn’t have to hide anything from the
insightful and increasingly fascinating Samantha. Kyle took another
bite. He was not familiar with this weird feeling, and if he wanted
advice there were two people he would make it his job to avoid asking
at all costs. George and Sam were dating women who Kyle thought
were too exotically attired (Gina) or too damned peculiar (Juliet)…
come to think about it Juliet did seem a little less peculiar, especially
after that leaky eyes session right before Kyle introduced her to the
profiles of her alternate selves… well some of them. George seemed
quite unimpressed, his view was typical; they had too much on
already to take an interest in something that didn’t hold the promise of
immediate and real threat to one’s life, security, bank account, or
moral outlook. Kyle began to suspect that George didn’t take Juliet
terribly seriously, even though he seemed on the face of it to like her;
Kyle on the other hand thought her a worthy and valuable person, and
it was the lack of knowledge rather than any real sense of wanting to
be a jerk that had him clam up and be dumb as an egg custard. He was
pleased that Juliet had seen through this; to the virtue of the righteous
hack. She seemed okay, if a little thin, and this whole, askingSamantha-where-a-time-machine-is scenario was starting to stress him
in ways that were largely down to the lack of brown sauce and chilli
dip than anything else. But she was a poet of the world, and mistress
of the old school, one who knew the love of slide rules, and pencils
and things that go crunch and need sharpening in the night. She saw
something he didn’t and he liked her for it. Because she saw in him
the missing part. Her knowledge was not as rich in that area, and in
realising that the complimentary parts of her and him were about to be
subject to some kind of experiment by George made him feel a little
angry. Why? She was great, and he liked her. Couldn’t it just be
simple?
But Kyle slurped tea to wash down the last bit of the sandwich
and sobered. He knew that what made her fascinating was this
wonderful dangerous side to her knowledge. Without it she would not
be what she was. She wouldn’t even be here, that is if George’s
hypothesis was correct. This might require delicacy. Kyle resorted to
the one thing he knew; records of personnel. He dug in deep and
couldn’t find her. It then occurred to him that she might have been a
replacement for someone else. But who? Female, researcher, and
round that time ago back in the distant days of the Nineteen-Eighties.
Computers were practically in the Stone Age then, and records didn’t
always go back as far as was liked for him to get anything useful.
College books… books… yes!! They were electronically converted,
and now he was on a different tack. One that took him into the annals
of Sam’s old college, there…. Just there, and there; friends, the
physics team, a challenge; they were all brilliant. So what happened to
them? Six names and six destinies. Only Sam had got the opportunity,
maybe.
Kyle decided that he would get a pen and paper out, and the ereader, and put his feet up and scan some of the documents. A bit of
background would help, and he might actually not need to fake an
interest in this Time box thing if he could find some reference to it all
in the history of all that around the time that Sam Parker was still at
college. After ten minutes of this he began to get sleepy. It was due to
some intense stuff last night. And now he was sat down he didn’t want
to move. So this is what it feels like…. being relaxed. Kyle thought
about getting up to go to the lab just to annoy George and get him to
say something rude, but he just didn’t feel motivated. He yawned
hugely and his head nodded forward. Just then, the door swung open
and bumped rather sharply against the nearest chair.
‘Having a kip? Don’t mind me.’ Sam was carrying a load of print
outs. George came in looking thunderous.
‘Bloody mountains of it, I should think.’ he said and glared at no
one in particular. Kyle rubbed his eyes, ‘What’s up?’ he said and tried
to see what it was.
Sam put another stack down and left the room.
‘There’s more.’ said George, ‘I am distressed.’
‘What is it?’
‘Bloody fax machine threw a total wobbly. It is still pulling the
stuff through. Most of it is the contents of the yellow pages for the
north of London. Or should I say Londonium. It seems determined to
translate this into old English. Someone is having a joke.’
‘Let me see.’ Kyle pulled the nearest sheet towards him.
‘Err… George, this looks like it might be the schematic for
something.’
‘What!’ George looked thunderous, ‘You would have thought that
with all the advances in technology; someone would have some up
with a way of preventing this sort of thing from happening!’
‘It seems to make sense if you have a physics degree.’
‘Crap! This is no sense. Pseudo whatsits. Honestly!’
‘Most of it is… as you say garbage. But look at this. The
numbering on the page is different. It’s from a different document. We
just need to rearrange this to make sense of the pattern.’
‘Are you saying that this is a message?’
‘It could be.’ Kyle lifted one sheet out, ‘The facts may or may not
be rubbish but someone has constructed the finest place to hide
something. It might need a key.’
‘Then why don’t they just give me the bloody key?’
‘Because,’ Kyle swallowed and then continued, ‘it proves your
worth. This is code, but not all: and that is poetic nonsense. Or sense
that does not fit, like mint among strawberries.’
‘Okay then, make sense of it.’ George stopped sounding cross,
and took on an air of perplexity, which was nearly as intimidating. He
sat down as if waiting for the answer to pop right up out of the coffee
table.
‘Right. I think I need coffee first. But look at this…’
‘What?’
‘There is something here. Look.’
‘I see it.’ George peered closer.
‘The date is saying something.’
‘Is it backwards? I can’t see.’
‘Just a minute,’ Kyle found a magnifying sheet in among his note
books.
‘That looks like…’ George sat back, ‘you do know what this
means?’
‘Illuminate me.’ said Kyle.
‘This…. This annoying fax was sent from three years in the
future.’
‘The time code on the doc could be faked George; someone is
messing with your head. Go make me some coffee, and I’ll get round
the code somehow.’
‘What are you going to do?’ George was suddenly suspicious.
‘It may have come from somewhere else, but it still had to be
directed to your machine via the local exchange. There is a point of
entry into our system.’
‘Find it Kyle.’ George stood up suddenly, ‘This is getting out of
hand.’
‘Okay.’
‘It means that someone knows what we are doing. Someone is
ahead of us. I don’t want you to go back to your place for a while.
You will be safer here.’
‘Fine.’ said Kyle and picked up two of the sheets: one in each
hand. George stomped off. Personally, Kyle thought he was being just
a little too melodramatic. And he still wasn’t going to tell him about
that metal thing, or the plaque that came with the diary, or more to the
point what he intended to do with all that cannabis. Perhaps George
could do with a little smoke. He was starting to get the stage where he
might decide to make a curry, and then insist that Kyle test tasted it.
Kyle shook himself and returned to the sheets in front of him. Sam
seemed to have made himself scarce. Perhaps he had gone home. Kyle
shrugged. They always treated him like that. But it was better not to
be interrupted when you were delving into the midst of something
inexplicably complex. They just didn’t get it. He decided to give it
two hours and then go and ring the redoubtable Samantha. She would
be awake. In fact he hadn’t worked out when she did sleep. And trying
not to imagine her in a cotton nightie, he set the timer and focused his
mind.
*****
Chapter Three
Vanishing Point.
Parker mused on the intricacies of cross dimensional travel and
stirred her tea. The ‘Help’ shuffled into the kitchen and rather noisily
put her mop and bucket into the kitchen cupboard. The counters were
disinfected, empty and terribly sterile of life. It was an empty lab of a
kitchen. Sam just stirred her tea, waiting for her housekeeper to leave
the room. She eventually shuffled out and Sam turned her attention to
her small notebook. There were a few things that might be taken, but
not many. Not this time. The next stop was ahead, again. Sam was
beginning to doubt if she would ever find Joseph. Had he made the
meet? Would they coincide this time? It was baffling and no joke. The
knowledge she had of this was locked inside her mind. It opened with
a keyword that only existed on a certain day; in a commonly found
document. And today was that day. Everything month, Sam checked
it. And every month she was left with that empty feeling inside.
Perhaps this was the last stop and she would stay here. Hopefully not
for too long. There are things that cannot stay buried. They will be
found by someone eventually. Sam knew too much to be abandoned
by her employers. She was hiding in this backwater. And inside an
empty object in another not empty room was something so startling
even she did not get it out to look at it. Not while she knew she would
be here for quite a while. Anyway, she did not have the skill or the
instructions. There are thing that are so dangerous, it would take a
genius or a fool to enter that place where their use is permitted.
Sam sighed…. She was both and neither, depending on her mood.
But now, after all this time she suspected something that she had
begun to think after the last house move, that they were just keeping
her on ice in case they needed her again; and that Joseph had been
compromised and someone else was pulling her strings. She made the
best of it. She stayed loyal to her scientific principles if not her moral
ones. There was nothing else for it really. Love of country or of the
future of mankind was not really a motivating factor. Too much time
alone had made her weak. It gnawed away at her resolve until she had
been tempted. Kyle. He was the dark alchemy she had been waiting
for, an exceptional individual who hung out in the semi-secret world
of the half and half funded secret project. It was a find… she had been
studying him of course. But to accidentally meet; it was fortuitous. Or
perhaps it was meant to be.
She sat back and half closed her eyes, recalling a day in the lab. It
was the week before…. Well, then everything changed. Joseph
Drucker… he bounded in looking so excited. He told Sam to check
that no one was listening. Then he unfolded an object from a giant
white hanky, the fellow of one he perpetually carried.
‘What is that?’ Sam had asked.
‘It is a piece of kit that someone does not need any more. No one
wants it.’
‘Are you sure?’ Sam edged closer.
‘Don’t say you’re going to get a taste for this as well?’
‘Of course I am. There would be nothing for me here, if you were
not here.’
‘If that is what you want?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know Joseph.’ And she looked at the thing
he held out to her, rather to permit her to inspect it than to touch it.
But she reached out and touched it anyway. She had looked up, and
met his eyes, ‘Gotcha.’ he had said, and then quickly wrapped and
pocketed the item.
She shifted in her seat and opened her eyes. She needed that code.
But most of all she needed the things that no one ought to discover.
And the knowledge that Kyle could chop it up into electronic
packages, gave her a hungry sense of hollow anticipation.
Sam strolled into her untidy study. She put the fresh cuppa down
on a small space left clear for that purpose, then settled herself down
to read the monthly journal. A knitting magazine…. Oh well. Sam had
read about cables and circular knitting; she had absorbed the finer
points of merino wool and alpaca. But still in all this time no key
words. Apart from starting her down the road to the local craft shop to
actually get some knitting needles and try the techniques, she didn’t
see that anything had changed. Hidden within. So, every month;
usually on a Saturday, she collected the magazine and went home for
tea and crumpets and some mindless TV. This was the only time she
allowed herself to be distracted. Sam worked on ‘Time Distortion
Science’ theories and she posted copies of her findings to a PO Box.
This was her connection with her sponsor and project coordinator; a
shadowy person whose real name was never known. Sam simply
knew him or her as ‘Pride Lion’. They did not meet and Sam’s job
was to observe and extract the data from the current time period. She
wasn’t really a native, in the conventional sense. It was a job that
required a certain disposition to secrecy, way beyond that level that
any ordinary person was capable of exhibiting. But Parker had left
after Joseph had been kidnapped; she was offered choice, take the job
or go to jail for something that she could be found guilty of. Sam was
philosophical about it. The company needed her, and she felt it was
better to work for the lions than be thrown to them. But now…..
Sam turned the page and started to read the next bit. And then all
at once…. There it was! She saw pictures in her mind. The words read
in the right order triggered a cascade of images suffused with
information. Sam grabbed the notebook and started to write down the
information. This little key of supressed memory was like a hidden
box inside her own mind. The thing was to make it inaccessible to an
agent of the enemy. So the facts copied themselves into the part of the
mind that retained shape and good stability as long as she was awake.
If she slept, it would vanish. Samantha didn’t sleep for more than two
or three hours at a time. She was waiting for something; either her
long lost colleague Joseph Drucker; or the people who had taken him.
One the source of joy, the other misery and fear. Even the ‘Help’ was
not a pain with all her complaining and grumbling. Sam liked her
presence; it helped her remember where she was in time. The woman
and her dusters was a fixture in that moment of Sam’s world where
the old and the new meet. Mrs Jenson had worked in a local
laboratory as a cleaner. And Control had insisted that Sam hire her to
do the housekeeping. It wasn’t clear if they had known each other in
the past. So Sam tolerated her presence. While she still arrived and
shuffled around, there was no immediately danger. The day she didn’t
turn up; that would be when Sam would know that her protection had
been removed. Sam felt that the interaction with someone who was
probably spying on her, gave her some leeway in the scenario when
she was faced with a new set of instructions. She scribbled furiously
not, it might be considered because she didn’t have enough time to
write things down. But because she wanted to do some investigating
before the end of the day; and using the information with the context
of memory was much more reliable than notes read after the fact.
Sam left the house. She walked quickly, her head down. The
unsettled weather mirrored her mood and her thoughts turned again to
Kyle. It was not to be. She saw something so clearly, and was already
unravelling the explanation she would read to herself to reinforce the
idea that leaving people and things behind was actually a good idea.
She came at last to a door, and she stood there for a little while
summoning the courage to knock. At last she did, and the door opened
and she was ushered inside. It swung shut behind her and she was to
fall out of our story for a while… for this is the way of things. We
cannot know what it is we do in fact do. If only to assuage her guilt,
Samantha left something where she knew Kyle would find it. One
thing. One trace of herself. And just like that she had disappeared.
Kyle tried to ring Samantha. There was no need to be concerned.
She had often not answered. But she always rang him back. Neither he
nor she carried a mobile phone. It was a mark of their professions. An
indicator of the paranoia that they had both at one time or another let
into their lives.
After the third attempt he was getting a little miffed. And at last
when he'd got to the seventh call with no response; he let it slip into
his mind that she might have gone somewhere. Eventually he
summoned George, who immediately put a trace on her: any phone
call, any credit card used, any phone either dialled or receiving the
signal from another user; then there would be something he could use.
It was late. Kyle sat with his back to the big radiator. He felt cold.
He did not feel worried. But if temperature could correspond to
happiness then Kyle was unhappy. It was a vague feeling, a little like
the feeling that you’ve forgotten something when you have gone
shopping, but with a lot more gravity.
George had his feet up on the settee, and sighed. They had come
to the conclusion that Samantha Parker was nowhere to be found.
‘This is surreal.’ said Kyle.
‘At least there is an address.’ George waved a piece of paper.
‘Not exactly the best news. I want to find the girl.’
‘Perhaps she is there.’ George stared at him without breathing.
‘Shit!’ Kyle pressed himself against the radiator trying to suck in
some warmth from the metal, ‘I think I’ll go to bed.’
‘No more snooping.’ said George, ‘we’ll think of something.’
‘Then tell me what you know about the metal plate?’
‘It’s a label.’
‘No shit!’ Kyle rubbed his hands over his face, ‘So where is it
from?’
‘It looks like it slots into a shelf. An ID, like in a library.’
‘Or an archive?’
‘Yes.’
‘So what about that other thing you found?’
‘Oh?’ George seemed a little upset, ‘It was a bracelet. A bit of a
time object.’
‘So what does it do?’
‘Nothing. It’s like a power pack. It’s the innards of the thing. The
power source.’
‘And the outside?’ Kyle was really getting annoyed with George
for holding out to on him, ‘Where is that?’
‘In the archive.’
‘Ah! I see where this is going. You want us to go and break into
this archive?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Well what exactly?’
At that moment Sam his detective mate wandered in. he was
wearing a casual jacket and jeans unlike his usual tidy professional
look. His blonde hair was slightly ruffled and untidy looking.
‘Yes. I know.’ Sam said, ‘I am scruffy. So don’t bother saying it!’
‘I wasn’t going to say anything.’ Said Kyle, ‘honest.’
‘Well that would be a first.’ Sam grumbled.
‘Now then boys,’ George interrupted with a louder tone that made
them sit up, ‘We need the team to work here. I know it’s a bit bad.
And there really isn’t much to go on. But we now have another
problem.’
‘What is it this time?’ said Sam.
‘Just a mo.’ George was consulting his smartphone, ‘Yes….
Mmm. We have a positive ID on Mr Green. He lives quite near here.
A stone’s throw away one might say.’
‘But why not get in touch with his Brother?’ Kyle moved to the
other comfy chair. ‘And why not attend his funeral.’
‘I think,’ George mused and leaned back in thinking mode, ‘It was
because he didn’t want anyone to recognise him.’
‘Why not?’ said Sam.
Kyle didn’t say anything. He was already working it out. Already
seeing a pattern forming. He noticed George watching him. George
grinned, as the expression on Kyle’s face changed.
‘You got it.’ said George.
‘Got what?’ Sam looked from one to the other and back again,
‘Got what? What the hell is going on here?’
‘Only the cleverest thing ever.’ George was fiddling with a pencil
now, ‘Do you want a diagram?’
‘Yes please.’ said Sam.
‘I got it.’ said Kyle.
‘I know you have.’ said George.
‘So tell me what the heck is going on here?’ Sam leaned over the
sketch that George had helpfully supplied.
‘Kyle, to you.’ George stood up, ‘I need to ring Gina. Won’t be
long.’
‘Right.’ Sam turned back to Kyle, ‘Give Kyle.’
‘No need to be so abrupt. I am human. I do have feelings.’
‘You feel me not making you the next cup of tea? Just get on with
it!’
‘Fine,’ Kyle said shortly, ‘here goes….. We are standing in a train
station, and then suddenly the place is swarming with people, all
proceed against that intuition: the sort that tells you not to add little to
bits of luck to their already growing pile of lucky charms.’
‘And then what?’
‘The next bit of the tale?’ Kyle smiled, ‘They all get on the train.’
‘Is this a metaphor?’ asked Sam shifting in the seat and looking
uncomfortable.
‘It’s a story. Pay attention.’
‘Fine.’
‘They all get on the train. And then the train starts to move. The
thing about getting on a train is that once you are on the train you
can’t get off. That is until you get to the next station. So we consider
the problem. How do you get off the train while it is still moving?’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘Time, Sam. The train is time. We are on the train. And we can’t
get off. We stop at stations. But that is only when time is kind of
thin…’
‘I get that bit…. You mean the parallels?’
‘Yes, well. Technically there is more than one kind of other
version of things. A parallel exists as a separate stream to ours; an
alternate is a brief divergence…. one that touches us directly. That is
the point where we can change trains.’
‘Or get off the train completely.’ Sam ventured.
‘Quite so.’ said Kyle, ‘But here’s the thing. We didn’t get on the
train in the first place…’
‘Ah…’ said Sam, ‘I think I get it. You mean Henry’s brother?’
‘Yes. He waits at the station. He waits until the others are far
enough ahead of him. Then he gets on another faster train. He arrives
ahead of them. The other people don’t recognise him. But then he’s
worried in case they do. He doesn’t want them to ask him difficult
questions. There might be someone who is watching the family.
Someone waiting for him to appear. After all, it is the one occasion
when you might expect someone to return to the family. The great
leveller of all…’
‘And what would you know about that?’ Sam hunched in the
chair.
‘Sam….’ Kyle leaned forwards, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m….sorry Kyle. I can’t….’
‘Shall I get George?’
‘No. No need. There’s nothing anyone can do.’
‘I think you need to know that Juliet came to see me few days
ago. Sam?’
Sam stared at him, ‘I know. Juliet told me. She was….upset. She
said that I ought to be more sympathetic. I guess I haven’t been. I
mean this is all important stuff. But she is too. I think I messed up.’
‘Oh, um…. I’m the wrong person to have an opinion about things
like that.’
Sam gave him a very sharp look, ‘No, you’re not. The girl… she’s
important to you. She needs your help. She’s in trouble, and she needs
you. I think you should go and find out what she needs.’
‘Right now?’
‘Yes.’ Sam stood, ‘Right now.’
‘What about George?’ Kyle eased himself to his feet.
‘What about him?’ Sam smiled for the first time that evening.
‘I’ll err….. you know.’ said Kyle.
‘He doesn’t own you.’ Sam began to slide his arms into his jacket.
‘Yeah. I know,’ Kyle quickly went to get his own jacket and a few
select gismos he often liked to carry when he felt threatened in any
way.
Sam was waiting for him in the hall.
‘What are you doing?’ Kyle stared at him.
‘I’ll take you.’
‘Okay.’ Kyle shrugged.
They got to the gate.
‘That’s odd.’ Kyle approached slowly.
‘Everything’s quiet.’ said Sam.
‘That’s what’s weird.’
‘It is One in the morning.’
‘There are no lights on.’
‘At One in the morning?’ Sam went forward cautiously.
‘She’s a night owl.’ said Kyle.
‘Okay. I get it. The nocturnal kind. Clearly is your type.’
‘What do you mean?’ Kyle glanced at Sam, ‘I do go to bed at
night.’
‘Yes, to do a little light computer nerd stuff. You should definitely
tell her how you feel when you get the chance.’
‘How I feel?’ Kyle was startled and hissed for Sam to be quiet
again as they advanced to Samantha’s front door.
‘Desire. Of an irreparable kind,’ at this Sam got the lock picks
out, ‘I need not say that you ought not to let George know what I
said.’
‘Said about what? And what are you doing?’
‘Some skills are only improved with a little practice….’ he
twisted something and sighed, ‘And I should think that this is a time
to congratulate me on my more, shall we say…. practical skills.’ with
that he did a funny sideways twisting motion with his hands and the
front door clicked open a fraction. With a quick look round to make
sure that no one was about they then slide into the warm dark hall.
The door clicked shut behind them.
‘It’s not alarmed.’ whispered Sam.
‘She wanted us here.’
‘You mean you.’
‘No. Us. You have the skills to break in…. and I, well let’s take a
look.’ Kyle slid silently round the hall. A room at a time they
inspected the ground floor. Nothing. They went up the stairs again
being as silent as possible.
‘Where now?’ asked Sam, ‘I don’t know the layout.’
‘Left. And then right into the reception room. Her study is beyond
that.’
‘It’s not the room downstairs then?’
‘You were the first one to meet her. You surely remember.’
‘That was in daylight. I don’t usually go sneaking round
someone’s house in the middle of the night.’ Sam moved smoothly
forward, ‘It all looks different in the dark.’ he added.
‘It’s here.’ Kyle pushed open another door.
They stood looking at the chaos of books and files and pens in
pots. Kyle tried to remember what it had been like. But here was too
much. There had to be something. Samantha wouldn’t have left him
without anything to go on. The alarm was off. So she wanted him to
find what? He moved to the desk. No. Too obvious. No one would put
something important there. So where? Sam meanwhile clinked on his
small torch after making sure the curtains were firmly drawn.
‘What’s this?’ Sam shuffled some of the papers on the desk. Kyle
followed where Sam was pointing.
‘What the….?’
‘It’s all in code.’
‘No. I mean yes. But I bet if you translate this it will just be a
shopping list or something.
‘What is the point of that?’
‘Practise. Like you said yourself.’
‘Indeed.’ Sam moved round the shelves at the back of the room,
‘Now surely. There must be something here.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Kyle stood very still, he was thinking; moving
things round in his head. Trying out different patterns, different ways
of being.
Sam searched the shelves anyway, ‘There’s books from the
eighties here.’ he said.
‘So? She likes certain books.’
‘There are a lot of science books.’
‘That is precisely what you would expect… which is why it isn’t
in there.’
‘What?’
‘The thing we’re looking for.’
‘What is that? You mean a hidden file?’
‘Not really.’
‘Come on! I want to know.’
‘I don’t think that would be a good idea.’
‘I suppose I better wait in the car then.’
‘No. Look.’ Kyle clicked on his mini torch and pointed the beam
across the room;
‘You have got to be kidding me.’
‘Come on. It’s brilliant. She is a clever girl.’
‘How can you be so certain?’
‘That’s easy. It was the one place that no one would look.
Therefore the one place to find something.’
Sam turned to see the empty bird cage. It was a little dusty; a little
damaged and had not had a budgie or something suitable in it.
Kyle was opening the doorway and feeling around inside before
Sam had finished scanning the room.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Sam asked.
‘This isn’t Tweety Pie’s hideout; and we’re not in Loony Tunes.’
Kyle rolled his eyes. He could feel a little indentation, a tiny ridge on
the edge on the inside. The base must be loose for cleaning purposes.
He felt around for the catch. There…. Suddenly it gave way.
‘What is it?’ Sam came closer.
‘Look…. There are some scratches in the base.’
‘Why don’t you lift it down?’ Sam strained to look.
‘It’s bolted to the ceiling. I think it’s a mini prison for something.
Just give me a second.’ Kyle pressed with his fingers, while peering at
the base, ‘You got a torch?’ he asked.
‘Here,’ Sam handed it to him, ‘Is it open?’
‘There’s another panel under the base. I think it’s coded.’
Sam clambered up onto a chair and bent over the bird cage. He
spun it round; ‘It’s just a lock. Like a luggage lock.’
‘Five tumblers.’ said Kyle.
‘Okay,’ said Sam, ‘leave it to me.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Oh! Please!’ Sam was already twiddling the small tumblers, ‘You
think I can’t handle a little puzzle like that?’
‘Right.’ Kyle slid down onto a chair, while Sam did a little
Alchemy of his own.
‘The problem with codes,’ Sam said, ‘is that they are made by
people, and puzzles are predictable. There…. Done it.’
‘You have?’ Kyle jumped back up to look in the bird cage.
Inside were a small notebook and a key on a chain.
‘I think this is for you.’ said Sam, easing it out of the little space
and handing it to Kyle.
‘What makes you think that?’
‘It’s got your name on it. Look.’
Kyle turned it over in his hands. A small book, covered in manila.
There in Sam Parker’s hand writing was ‘Kyle Owen’ and a tiny little
symbol.
‘It’s a stripy oblong.’ said Kyle touching it with his finger.
‘But what is it?’
‘It looks like a mini zebra crossing.’
‘Okay.’ said Sam, ‘Perhaps we better get out of here?’
‘Yeah,’ Kyle was about to open the book, ‘Is there anything else?’
‘Just the key on the chain.’
‘Let’s go.’ Kyle said.
They retraced their steps and let themselves out.
‘What are you doing?’ Kyle turned.
‘You seriously think I’m going to leave the door unlocked? That’s
not very polite.’ Sam grinned at him, ‘There. All done. Back to base.’
They quickly walked away. A little way away a girl stood. She
had a camera and a leather satchel and was standing very still indeed.
She watched them as they quickly disappeared into the still night. She
strolled forward and taking out a Dictaphone spoke softly, making a
brief voice note. Then she walked away.
George was reading the newspaper and drinking whisky when
Sam and Kyle got back.
‘I’m sorry George, we were…’ Sam trailed off lamely.
‘I’m sure it was very important.’ said George quickly, ‘But you
can tell me all about it later. I think that we have a problem.’
‘When don’t we have a problem?’ Sam said sarcastically.
‘Kyle. Get the schematic up. Now.’
‘What?’
‘Get the bloody computer!’ George spluttered, ‘There is a
fluctuation. I’m sure of it. Your lovely girlfriend has caused trouble
for us both.’
‘My girlfriend?’ Kyle said just as Sam went ‘You what?’
‘I think he means Me.’ said Kyle.
‘Yes,’ said George going to the kettle and switching on, ‘the
fragrant Ms Parker has been up to something far more devious than all
of us gave her credit for.’
‘And that is?’ asked Sam.
‘She is selling her secrets to the highest bidder.’ said George, ‘She
has us all in her observation net. She knows things about us that we
don’t even know ourselves. And she had access to Henry’s project.
Arc is part of the same firm. Arc wasn’t just about tiny bits of
anything. It was bigger than that… much, much bigger.’
‘The diary?’ Kyle didn’t move.
‘Yes.’ George faced him with a glint in his eyes.
‘The diary told you all this. Now why would you believe what it
says?’
George didn’t reply but pulled it out of his jacket and laid it open
on the kitchen table. He pointed. Sam and Kyle both looked at the
page he indicated.
‘But that’s impossible!’ said Sam.
‘No,’ Kyle looked at George, ‘You can calm down now,’ he
added, ‘I believe you.’
There, scrawled across the page, somewhere in the middle of the
book were two words:
Cheese Sandwich.
*****
Chapter Four
Symmetry.
Most things can be improved by the addition of tea or even
alcohol to the mix. Well, George believed that to be true. How much
of his life as a Student Doctor was spent testing this theory out was
not something that Sam, or even Kyle at that moment was really
willing to speculate on. George was fortunately a person who didn’t
stay annoyed for too long. Better to let him get annoyed and wait until
it cooled to vague displeasure. But once it had cooled this time, it was
more to chilling determination. Sam gave Kyle that look, the one
rarely used to convey anything. It was Sam who was usually on the
peripheral edge. Now Sam and Kyle were looking at the possibility
that George might actually give up on this one. He didn’t like feeling
that he was not in control of the situation, and this … well, what
appeared to be a weird and rather interesting paradox in the making
made George more than just a little twitchy.
‘The problem gentlemen,’ George gathered himself, and despite
the late hour appeared to look as if he could rip someone’s head off at
a moment’s notice, ‘The problem is this; we are not alone, someone is
following right behind us. We think; although without any proof this
person might be one of the fellow students of Samantha Parker. That
is to say; one of the former students at the same college. She went into
nuclear research, new ways to get cheap energy, that sort of thing. It’s
one of three. And we have no way of knowing if this is actually true.’
‘Following a hunch?’ Kyle seemed calm, which caused Sam to
frown, ‘Why aren’t you worried? Is anyone else even vaguely
worried?’
They both turned and looked at him, ‘Do pay attention!’ George
turned back to his notepad. ‘I have a conspiracy to stir up. Two can
play, and I think someone has already been playing. Taking advantage
of the situation to create some sort of panic and alarm among the
pieces on the board.'
‘You make it sound like chess pieces moving.’
‘Yes. Well, a little light intellectual tussle before dawn is the stuff
that movies are made of. I would suppose that the other side; for so we
must think of it until other evidence turns up, is anxious to get their
hands on Sam Parker’s research and her rather unusual set of
memories.’
‘Is she in danger?’ asked Sam.
‘Not sure.’ George answered truthfully, ‘She is a resourceful
woman. You don’t get to drive a time machine without being in some
ways reliable.’
‘So….’ Kyle felt his way into this thing he feared, ‘I could try to
hack the database. Would that be the best way into this?’
‘Yes.’ George stared at him, ‘Coffee and pancakes at Three
Thirty?’
‘Okay.’ said Kyle, ‘But I expect all the other info to be in a neat
package ready to go.’
‘You bet.’ said George and turned to Sam.
‘And you, my lovely Detective are going to visit the Man of the
Moment.’
‘Treacle? Or do we have another name for the git in question?’
‘A name. Yes… possibly. It seems that he never liked to be called
it.’
‘What?’
‘Elm.’
‘That’s a type of tree.’
‘Of course it is. Saddle up and get to it. I need to know what he is
doing. And why. And don’t forget to take your Dictaphone.’
‘I never leave home without it;’ Sam smiled thinly, ‘you already
know that.’
‘Back here at 4 am.’
‘The worst time to be out and about.’
‘That’s why I want you back,’ said George, ‘then later tomorrow
we can storm the Keep as it were.’
‘Alright.’ Sam brightened, ‘I’m on it. What shall I say if he asks
why I’m calling round so late?’
‘Tell him you’re a Detective. I’m sure that your mates on the
force will back you up if they see the need.’
‘He might not buy it.’
‘Just be creative. I’m sure you’ll think of something.’
Sam sat in a little warm room, eating cake and being entertained
by a lunatic in the form of Treacle.
‘So nice of you to call round… of course it is. I was watching the
late night movie. Of course…. Very interesting.’
‘What was it about?’ asked Sam.
‘The movie?’ he shifted in the seat, ‘Oh, it was about an invasion
of the planet, and the Americans stopped it. They usually do you
know.’
‘Good film?’
‘Yes. Absolutely. There was a dog in it somewhere. Big dog. And
a President. There is always a President. And a kid. And an old man
who’d lost his faith. Strange that…’ he looked away.
Sam didn’t move. He balanced the teacup carefully, and watched
him. It might be an act. But if it was it was a hell of a convincing one.
He was…. In the estimation of all the Sam knew, completely bonkers;
in a harmless, rather eccentrically styled way. The fact that it was
interesting made him suspicious.
‘I came to talk about your brother.’
‘My brother? Of course. Do fire away. Ask me, I’ll tell. We
couldn’t tell anything before this. But now we can. It’s all alright now.
All gone.’
‘What happened to your brother?’
‘Happened? He died of food poisoning I believe. He told me how
bad it was. I mean really dying of food poisoning. And he was so
careful.’
‘I thought it was a stroke?’
‘Garlic. I told him about it. They don’t like it.’
Sam found himself lowering his voice despite the desire to be
formal, calm and not involved in this man’s delusions; ‘Who doesn’t
like it?’
‘Shh!! You must…’ he put his hand to his lips with a funny
hissing noise. He was shushing like a kettle that’s gone off the boil.
‘I’m sorry. Do you mean to say your brother visited you?’
‘Yes. He came to see me. It was the last time I saw him. Such a
thing; such a little thing. The restaurant…. Oh… I could never go
there again…. So sad.’
‘And when your brother passed on….’ Sam softened his voice
even further, ‘did you visit his….’
‘Yes, yes. He said to do that. Just a little time. Just a little and then
we will be alright. For both of us.’
‘Please can you tell me where it is? The grave I mean.’
‘Yes. I think it a better time to go, in daylight you know. I would
go with you but I have these reports to finish. Yes. Most upsetting.
Too many reports are about the ones who didn’t make it.’
‘Where do your reports go?’
‘Oh…. they go to the control man. Yes. But then I don’t know.’
Here he talked in a close conspiratorial way. ‘They’re coming for me
soon. Yes. Very soon.’
‘Who are?’
‘The visitors. They always come and see people at night. They’ve
taken them. And some come back. Some see it. Some don’t. Oh… so
sad.’
Sam gave him a little card, ‘It will help if we can get as much info
as possible.’
‘Oh yes Mr Policeman. I will tell you if they come back.’
He then drew a little map for Sam to find the grave. And said
rather strangely, ‘It’s not what you think.’
Supposing that this was part of his mind wandering condition, he
didn’t think anything of it. He made his excuses and left.
Back at George’s house, Kyle was well on his way to cracking
inside the shell of a fiendishly difficult system. Suddenly it gave way.
‘Is that it?’
‘You are kidding me? There is way too much information of a
sensitive nature, to allow one stray hacker into the posse.’
‘What?’
‘That was just their first layer. It’s a delicate process. This is the
way to slither inside without them knowing.’
‘Kyle?’
‘Yes Boss?’
‘Just tell me when you’ve done it.’
‘Sure thing Boss!’
‘Will you please not call me that?’
‘Uh. Okay George. But I expect donuts.’
‘Anything you want.’
‘Great! I ought to do this more often.’
‘Don’t let it go to your head.’ George started out of the room and
turned, ‘And Kyle.’
‘Yes Mr Carter?’
‘I need it fast.’
‘This is high grade encryption. You can’t just go up to the front
door and expect to be let in.’
‘I thought you used ‘Back Doors’.’
‘That’s a myth. The architecture varies. This is more organic. It
would be like trying to find the back of a tree.’
‘It’s round?’
‘Damn right George.’ Kyle tipped his chair back for a moment,
‘the truth is they are all Back Doors. That’s why it’s really hard to get
in. Needs more oil in the lock.’
‘I’ll take your word for it. Will it be done in time?’
‘Confab at Five with the elegant scruff. Yeah. My Kung Fu is that
good.’
Sam scowled in a weary way. He sat in the lounge with a
steaming pot of tea in front of him, ‘Apart from it being some God
awful time in the morning. Could I have got anywhere less
effectively?’
Kyle who was just putting down a tray of donuts, managed to
smile. He bit into one and gave Sam an enquiring look. ‘Treacle?’
‘He’s there alright. And completely off his head. I took quick look
at Henry’s resting place; it was all quite normal and unsuspicious. But
the brother is a rare mixture of insanity; and someone who actually
seems to make rather a lot of sense.
‘What did he say?’ Kyle was still chewing the donut, and round
eyed waited for Sam to gather his thoughts.
‘It is better than the alternative. He could be one of those things.
But then again; I don’t know how old he was supposed to be. Younger
brother?’
Kyle nodded.
‘How much younger?’
‘About ten years.’
‘Well there it is. He wasn’t quite in the right category. You know
what I mean.’
‘No.’ Kyle waited.
‘Oh… right you want a reason for it.’
‘Yes please. George will only ask you that if you don’t tell. And
he might get irate because you didn’t declare your interest.’
‘My what?’
‘Juliet. She’s red hot. That’s a certainty.’
‘Are you saying you noticed a girl?’
‘I already did do. Just courage to connect with her. And get the
thing off your mind that is clearly on it. I think that you think you saw
another one of those copies tonight?’
‘Something like.’ said Sam.
‘Now just a minute,’ George interjected.
‘I wish you wouldn’t do that!’ Kyle put his hand to his chest.
‘You didn’t see me?’ George did a mock innocent face.
‘I’m Pixelated.’ said Kyle, ‘You wanted me to work the hack. I’ve
done it. Just one more layer to Ms Parker’s file.’
‘I asked you to get the info on the other stuff first! I thought you
could follow instructions?’
‘Already done it! Oh Ye of little faith.’
‘Show me.’
‘It’s all there George. The fax may have appeared to be from
another place in time but it wasn’t. It was traced to a place in
Sheffield….’
‘….Ms Parker’s old college,’ said George, ‘get me the aerial
view.’
‘So what you’re saying,’ said Sam, ‘is that this is nothing to do
with time… err stuff?’
George looked over his glasses, ‘There are the contents of the fax.
Don’t you want to hear what it had to say?’
‘I guess.’ Sam looked uncomfortable.
‘Tell me about the graveyard.’ George changed tack.
‘Regular place. Nothing unusual. Except, there seemed to be a lot
of plants that had recently been planted. It seemed a little….odd.’
‘Right,’ said George slowly, ‘well, we’ll get back to that later.
May be time to look at the Brother. Kyle!’
‘Yes boss.’ Kyle pressed a few keys on the laptop, ‘There is no
truth in the rumour that he has been anywhere recently. He didn’t
attend the funeral for one very good reason. He wasn’t the person we
were looking for.’
‘What?’ Sam and George spoke simultaneously.
‘Yes. Amazing what a little deep massage of the system can do.
There have been some changes to the records. It is really smooth, very
discrete, and very nearly impossible to see the join. But I believe that
your guy has been conditioned to believe he is Treacle Green. He
believes it enough to fool someone who hasn’t met him. That is what
he was used for; to fend off interested parties. But the real Treacle is
out there. And very much part of the game plan. There…. So now you
know.’
‘And he didn’t go to Henry’s funeral…’ said George.
‘…. Because someone would know that he wasn’t the brother.’
said Sam, ‘And I guess that whoever is behind this rather elaborate
deception would keep the family in the dark. But this guy doesn’t
know how to keep his mouth shut. He’s lost some marbles and is quite
possibly a liability.’
‘Right,’ George turned to Kyle again, ‘the fax?’
‘The fax is a shopping list. A tool kit for the kinds of things that
you might need to make something. And here is something that you
don’t usually find in regular hardware stores; a large amount of gold,
in wafer thin sheets.’
‘Gold? Carry on Kyle.’
‘Yes. There is something odd too. It appears to ask for something
that is interchangeable depending on where you are from. A kind of
little local flavour.’
‘A lock of hair?’ asked Sam.
‘Actually, yes. Or rather it could be. It is time specific. And then
there is a list of things that you should not include on the DIY kit. And
that is very interesting indeed.’
‘And the list is?’ Sam was expectant.
‘Oh… you want me to tell. I’ve got the details here.’
‘Just verbally first.’
‘Relevant then. When you get down the list you can search by
popularity. It’s quite amusing.’
‘Kyle!’
‘Duvets; and a double bed and so on. And then there were a
number of food items. I have it all here. Teabags, dried milk; lots of
things; more like the sort of thing you would use to equip yourself for
a long time hidden in a cave. Kind of survival list gear.’
‘Is it a Time Machine kit?’ asked Sam.
‘Well…. I don’t know what it is. Unless something else in the
reams of what appear to be nonsense uncover an instruction book.’
‘So,’ George said forcibly, ‘we have the possible contents of the
store cupboard of a mad scientist. A man who think he’s someone
else. And then…. we have the key to something. Can we attempt to
get inside while we know where the archive is?’
‘You said ‘While we know’, is this something you expect to
disappear?’ Sam looking irritated and puzzled.
‘Yes, after what happened to me and Kyle. I think we need to
keep this focused and find the answers with speed.’
‘So why are we doing this?’ Sam asked.’
‘It’s a mystery.’ said George, ‘Pun wholeheartedly intended.’
‘So what next?’
‘The next stop is the archives. Just one thing first. Everyone go to
bed. Then we’ll pay Mr Green a visit.’
It was Ten-Thirty. The door swung on its hinges. There was no
sign of Treacle, or Elm of whoever he actually was.
‘What the hell?’ Sam picked up a flower head from the path.
‘He is probably out.’ said Kyle.
‘After that all-nighter?’ said Sam, ‘I don’t think so.’
‘We’re here.’ Kyle said.
‘That’s George’s alarm clock.’ Sam prodded the edge of the path
with his pen knife.
‘Anything?’ asked George who was peering at the door jamb with
unexpected interest.
‘Do you think you’ll find something?’ Kyle moved forward too.
‘Not exactly. I think I see something.’
‘We didn’t bring the scanner with us.’ Kyle pointed out, ‘Or else
we could do a proper recce.’
‘We’re not here to follow this fella; we just need to know what he
knows. He sounds like he might be hiding something.’ George turned
to Sam who was staring at the flower head.
‘It’s all wrong.’ he said.
‘What is?’
‘The time of year…. That was what it was. The plants…’
At that moment there was the sound of a car pulling up just out of
sight on the main road. The three friends moved to the side of the door
hidden in the vegetation.
A perky and rather insolent faced young woman strode
purposefully up the path. She got her key out and was letting herself
in. Sam started to move but George stopped him. The door closed
behind her, and Sam let out a long breath, ‘Why didn’t you let me?’
‘Quiet.’ said George. He had his ear pressed against the glass of
the nearby small window, ‘I think she’s on the phone.’
‘But who is she?’
‘Does anyone listen to a word I say?’ Kyle said rather too loudly.
‘Shh….’ George moved swiftly and put his hand over Kyle’s
mouth. Kyle shook him off but remained silent. The thick bushes
hiding them from view, they heard the slow step of someone else on
the path. The person stopped, and was standing just on the other side
of their position. They stayed still. It seemed interminable; until the
other person moved. They were standing at the door. They seemed
undecided. He, (For it was a he) stood for a rather a long time. George
was just at the point of moving when the person went back down the
path.
‘What now?’ hissed Kyle, who was itching to move.
‘We leave.’ said George abruptly.
‘Okay.’ Sam said who was looking as if something had just
occurred to him.
They quickly hurried away, and reconvened at a small café that
served industrial strength tea. George bought Kyle a stodgy slab of
cake to go with it, and oatcakes for himself and Sam.
‘Are you trying to make me feel guilty?’ Kyle dug his teeth into
the cake.
‘Pardon?’ Sam’s eyes refocused.
‘Never mind.’ Kyle gulped some of the red hot tea.
‘Sam,’ said George, ‘Give.’
‘That girl. I think I’ve seen her before.’
‘Ah!’
‘She was hanging about at the Gallery.’
‘Is it possible,’ said George slowly, ‘that she was supposed to be
there?’
‘Er, yes.’
‘I saw her too.’ George looked philosophical, ‘she’s a reporter.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘It didn’t come up. We were a bit preoccupied in case you hadn’t
noticed.’
‘Look,’ said Kyle who had finished the cake slab, ‘this is all very
interesting; but when are we going to go to the place with the
archives?’
‘Have you broken the encryption?’ asked George.
‘Of course,’ said Kyle, ‘you were so intent in taking off after all
that stuff that you didn’t ask me about the file. It’s really interesting.
The way it is shielded, it took a little reverse engineered program I…’
‘Show us the file, Kyle.’
‘It’s not that interesting. I can’t see inside it.’
‘I thought you’d got through the encryption?’ Sam began to have
that irritated look that Kyle knew so well.
‘The file itself is encrypted….or something.’ Kyle dug his lap top
out of the rucksack at his feet. The three of them gathered round as
Kyle showed them the file.
‘But there’s nothing there!’
‘Thanks Sam, but the blindingly obvious has already come to my
attention.’
‘So what is it?’
‘Sam’s file is the hardest thing to break. It is not encoded in the
usual way.’
‘Sam?’ said George.
‘Yes, what?’ said Sam.
‘Not Him! Her…. Don’t you get it?’ Kyle was trying to explain
the confusion in a way that didn’t sound too pathetic.
‘Parker.’ said Sam.
‘Precisely.’ said George.
‘For the meanwhile.’ said Kyle, ‘just to avoid confusion. But if I
get it wrong; don’t give me a hard time.’
‘Fine.’ said Sam.
‘So Parker’s file,’ said George, ‘What is the problem?’
‘Well,’ Kyle shifted his position, ‘I see a simple thing. And that is
what confounds me. It’s so simple, it’s annoying.’ he turned the
keyboard towards the others. The three crowded round and looked at
the box on the screen.
‘A simple code?’ George was surprized.
‘That is just to open the file.’ Kyle said, ‘Then… there might be
other puzzles.’
‘A puzzle?’ Sam seemed to be thinking, ‘Is it numbers or letters?’
‘It could be either.’
‘Case sensitive?’
‘No. At least I don’t think so.’
‘And it’s five characters.’
‘Yep.’ Kyle rubbed his hands over his face, ‘This might take a
while.’
‘No. Wait.’ said Sam, ‘You said that Parker asked you to find the
file, retrieve it. And then….’
‘She didn’t want me to actually read it.’ Kyle interrupted Sam and
then grimaced when Sam punched him in the shoulder, ‘Ouch! All
right, I know I should have done what you said…. And avoid at all
costs. But after all she did leave me a little something.’
‘What?’ George turned to Kyle, ‘You never told me this.’
‘It’s personal.’
‘Not if it is vital evidence.’ George put his glasses on, which had
been in his pocket until now, ‘so show me.’
Kyle reluctantly drew the small folded notebook and the chain and
little metal key, out of his inside pocket.
‘This is interesting.’ said George.
‘Well, it’s just a gift.’ Kyle seemed embarrassed.
‘No, no.’ George shook his head to emphasize the point; ‘You
have to figure out what it means.’
‘I do?’
‘Yes rather!’ said Sam who seemed suddenly animated.
‘I haven’t got a clue.’ said Kyle, ‘That surely is the point.’
‘Let me see!’ said George as Kyle opened the little notebook.
‘Uh.... okay, but it's really silly.’
‘So she writes: ‘I always found it difficult to start a conversation,
so I had a way to get your attention. It is a terrible joke. What is it? A
Black Horse with White Stripes, or White Horse with Black Stripes?’
That is certainly an interesting conversation starter. She is definitely
your type Kyle.’
‘If you mean antisocial, I do agree. But she is secretive to the
point of paranoia. So why give this to me?’
‘Clearly the young Lady trusts you. She wasn't very impressed
with me, but then perhaps she's had a change of heart.’
‘Government secrets.’ muttered Sam.
‘Parker could be working for the same people as me,’ George
suddenly declared, ‘I don't see any point in denying this, especially if
we are all going to be in the same kind of trouble pretty soon.’
‘That's pretty stiff George.’ said Sam, ‘After all this time. You are
open with us.’
‘Yes. Sorry. Really.'
‘So who is it?' Sam twisted his head round to stare at George in a
very critical way.
‘I can’t tell you that.’ said George, ‘That is not allowed.’
‘Allowed by whom exactly?’ Sam said intensely.
‘Sorry, no can do.’ George frowned.
‘Okay, okay!’ Kyle waved both hands, ‘I know you two are in the
habit of exercising the male ego but let’s get some perspective here!
Come on guys…. Time Out.’
They both turned to Kyle. Sam shrugged and sighed. George took
his glasses off and started to polish them rather thoroughly.
‘Are we paying attention?’ Kyle said, ‘Fine…. The five letter
word must be an answer to the rhyme… as in what it is. So if we….’
‘It’s easy.’ said Sam, ‘It staring you right in the face. Literally.’
‘What is?’
George was smirking as if he had the same thought.
‘Chain.’ said Sam.
‘But it could be…’
‘Key. Chain.’ said Sam.
‘Surely it can’t be that simple?’
‘Why not?’ George was smoothly smiling in that enigmatic way
that usually infuriated Sam, but today Kyle was the victim of his
superiority.
‘Fine.’ Kyle typed in the word, and pressed the return key.
‘And there it is.’ said George.
‘And it’s another key word.’ said Kyle and sighed rather heavily,
‘This is becoming most aggravating.’
‘She sounds like your sort of girl.’ Sam stared at the screen with a
faraway look.
Kyle sniffed, ‘I don’t know how much more of you being
enigmatic I can stand. I liked the old Sam.’
‘Oh?’
‘Before the Juliet thing. Or whatever you call it. Ridiculous if you
ask me.’
‘No one is asking you.’ George reminded him, ‘I think gentlemen;
it is time to go and lay a ghost.’
‘I’m the ghost.’ said Kyle, ‘I thought that was clear.’
‘This is a real one.’ said George, but didn’t explain further.
They tooled up with warm coats and a ruck sack each. George
insisted on a survival kit, just on account of some weird thing he had
going with the machine back at the house. ‘Probability of 37%
inhospitable environments.’ But the events boxes had also predicted
probabilities of: ‘54% chocolate cake’; ‘72% failure in gravity’ and
Kyle’s personal favourite, ‘14% binary shift’
‘That is a fourteen per cent chance of us meeting a binary shift.’
said Kyle, ‘Not 14% of it in binary.’
‘Yeah.’ said Sam, ‘I can see what kind of weirdness we’re going
to have to deal with later. I wish I brought a spare pair of trousers.
Someone is likely to get hurt if events are unfolding as they feel
moved to do.’
Creeping in the undergrowth and sneaking with a sense of purpose
was the reporter. And following her was the strange Man. Ah! I get it
you might say. He is…. Now wait a minute; let’s not get ourselves
confused. He is not related to anyone here, and he has been spotted
already. Where? You really need to pay attention. George was paying
a lot of attention to the thought of all those drugs that he had, for
reasons most obscure and circuitous brought them along for the ride,
so to speak. Sam, being oddly gifted with a sense of smell, despite his
repeated attempts to give up smoking, which wholeheartedly failed;
was at once alert to George’s look of shiftiness. Sam was still sulking
for reasons of a romantic nature. Juliet had called and been so distant
that he thought it must be time to call it a day. When he made the
mistake of saying so, she had cried down the phone. And only the
smell of George’s illegal drugs haul could reassure him that some of
his instincts were reasonably intact and ready to do battle with the
forces of darkness. (For so he thought, being of a melodramatic turn
on occasion.) So when his mobile began ringing and it was Juliet, he
gritted his teeth, hoping that he wouldn’t say something indecently
stupid again this time. So Sam listened, and said ‘Yes’ a couple of
times, and made sure that ‘No’ was to do with something that he
didn’t want to happen adversely, rather than a thing that ended
something vital. He felt idiotic a moment later when Juliet said that
she wanted to take him to the pictures this next weekend to see a
movie they both liked as a treat. He managed to use the word
‘Thanks’ and ‘Great’ in what he hoped was the right place and rang
off with a slighter lighter tone to his day, if a rather perplexed angle
on it.
‘You okay there?’ George flashed a look in the rear view mirror.
Kyle, who was in the front ignored the one sided phone call, and
chewed a pencil end in still amazed annoyance that he had been
defeated for the time being by a simple four digit code.
‘I think I might be.’ Said Sam, and put the mobile away slowly.
‘Better switch it off now.’ said George, ‘we are near the right
place. Kyle. Power down.’
‘Yes Boss.’
George sighed, he didn’t like it, but Kyle was funny about things
like that so there was no use in arguing.
*****
Chapter Five
Doors of Perception.
‘No Man is an island; unless he has a bottle of Thirty Year old
Single Malt Whisky in his possession.’ George parked the Range
Rover with neat precision. He looked very pleased with himself.
‘Better than Sat. Nav.’ said Sam.
‘This is the Bermuda Triangle of places on dry land. That is why
we could not find it before. It simply isn’t listed anywhere.’ George
started to gather equipment and check his pockets.
‘So this is it.’ Kyle seemed unimpressed.
‘It is one of the cleverest pieces of perception engineering in the
business. You literally cannot find it if you come at it from the wrong
direction or take the wrong route.’
‘Yet here it is,’ Sam peered out of the window and looked up and
up to see if he could see the top of the building, ‘it’s kind of fuzzy.’
He added.
‘Edges are always fuzzy that’s what makes you miss it.’ George
opened the door and tumbled out, ‘Crumbs, it’s cold. I thought so.’
‘Is that relevant?’ Kyle started to wriggle into his own warm
jacket.
‘Keeps the tourists away. No one stumbles upon anything like this
accidentally. It is just too uncomfortable.’
‘That’s silly,’ said Sam, ‘someone knows it’s here.’
‘Of course,’ said George, ‘the postal service, and the obscure
wing of just two government departments.’
They all got out. George locked the car, ‘Welcome to the archive.’
‘Let’s just get inside,’ Kyle was shivering, ‘This is too much.’
They approached the unimposing dull door. Panelled. A kind of
darkish colour that looked like it had been decorated the last time
early in the century and it had worn in a pleasingly artful way that
suggested a quiet restful giving way to the ravages of time.
‘There’s nothing here.’ said Kyle.
‘It looks deserted.’ said Sam.
‘It’s a thing that happens. Your brain thinks there is nothing there,
so you turn and walk away.’ George was being enigmatic again.
‘So why doesn’t that affect you?’
‘I have training in this area. I notice things. People things. Stuff
people do. Curiosity my friends, that is what defeats it.’
‘Yes. Of course.’ Sam straightened.
‘Right.’ said Kyle, ‘So how do we get in?’
‘Just put your hand on the door.’
‘Why me?’
‘Ah!’ Sam was pleased again, ‘Of course, the particles?’
‘Yes.’ said George.
‘You know,’ said Sam as the door swung open, ‘I so hate it when
you are right all the time.’
‘Tough.’ George looked round, ‘let’s get in quickly.’
There was a plain hall that was deserted. There was a desk and a
chair and a stack of pencils in a pot. But there was no telephone, no
clock on the wall; and nowhere to sit down and wait.
‘Do you fancy a little light adventuring?’ George pointed at the
door opposite.
‘Again?’ asked Kyle.
‘Probably not necessary. You are the best one to use this time. So
stay clear and don’t touch anything. That’s our job.’
‘Yes Boss!’
‘And Kyle?’
‘Yes?’
‘Really don’t touch; and don’t pick anything up.’
‘Not even a little tiny amusing hole in the fabric of reality?’
‘Nuts!’ said Sam,
‘It was actually quite informative. She is immune up to a point,
but after that it gets complicated.’
‘What the peachy pink pom-poms are you talking about?’ Sam
stopped in the middle of a…. corridor.
‘Nothing much; what do you want us to say?’
‘Greeks and something about bearing gifts.’
‘Beware of them?’
‘That’s right. That and things in baskets. You can only tell if it’s
alright by licking it.’
‘I don’t think so.’ said Kyle, ‘This is weird. Please can we just
stop?’
‘You won’t be able to get out of here.’
‘Okay…..now you’ve got my attention.’ Kyle sobered.
George reached out a hand and touched the middle of something
that seemed so innocuous it wasn’t worth bothering with. He pressed a
little button. All at once the three of them were staring straight ahead
down a long quiet wood panelled corridor.
‘It’s very long.’ said Sam.
‘Anonymity has a reward that doesn’t get mentioned.’
‘You too huh?’
‘Like I said, I was amused. Curiosity.’ George stepped back to see
the room open out into a little carpeted foyer. And there was the
doorway out, and the glimpse they caught of the street as the door
swung shut was of brilliant sunlight.
‘Weird.’ said Sam.
‘Very weird.’ agreed George.
‘So which way?’ Kyle looked around with irritation, ‘That was a
waste of time.’
‘Don’t worry.’ said George to Sam, ‘he always talks that way.’
‘Welcome!’ said a voice. They all swung round to face the new
person.
‘Come this way please.’ said the petite woman in a neat suit. They
followed her through an archway; and then down a long corridor into
the bowels of the place. They came to what looked like a safe deposit
area with lots of little locked boxes lining the walls.
‘Your location code?’ she said, ‘Now, if you please.’
They all looked at each other.
‘Err…. Which number is the location code? We do so get them
mixed up.’ George winced as he said this.
‘One moment.’ The petite lady disappeared through another door.
They waited.
She came back with another person; a large calm looking man in a
knitted cardigan with glasses perched on top of his nose.
‘Ah! Mr Carter! And friends. So nice of you to drop by. So
pleasant. But I cannot offer you refreshments just yet. There is a job to
complete. The time is now I think. The window is still open. You need
to use it.’
The last remark seemed to be addressed to Kyle who shook his
head in confusion.
‘I don’t know any… code. That is the point surely. We don’t have
it. I mean we don’t know what it is.’
‘I think you asking yourselves the wrong question.’ The calm man
said, and took out a large cotton hanky; he pushed glasses up and out
of the way to wipe his watering eyes. ‘Misdirection is the name of the
game. You must know. Otherwise, why would you be here?’
‘Ah….’ Kyle seemed to brighten; he swung his ruck sack down
onto the ground in front of himself. He burrowed in the inside of it,
and drew out a notebook. He scribbled in it for a few minutes.
‘Can I ask you if that is correct?’
‘Yes. You may.’ The man pulled his glasses off the top of his
head and peered at the scribble carefully.
‘Yes. That might be just what the doctor ordered.’
‘Doctor?’ asked George. ‘If there something else?’
‘Not until you come to it.’ said the man. ‘Come and visit when
you have the problem solved. Gentleman; Madam.’ He made a little
mock bow and then went through another door in the main reception.
‘Here it is!’
‘As you wish.’ said the woman and immediately went to the little
ladder. She slid round the tall rows on the roller castors. These were
most interesting stairs and a library full of these little boxes. Such a
large place; not at all like the reception room.
‘Pay attention!’ said George sharply, ‘This whole place has
filtered perception technology to a fine art.’
‘So what is it?’ said Sam to Kyle.
‘Words and numbers. They are the other way round. Words are
numbers. Numbers are words.’
‘I don’t get it.’
‘Tough.’ said Kyle, ‘So step aside and let me open this box.’
The woman laid a long metal box down on a little table in the
middle of the room. Kyle who was getting used to the fact that the
things around him kept changing to fit what was been perceived,
actually was starting to see things as they really were. The code was
the rhyme and the rhyme was the code. Black and white; White and
black. They were right that the thing could be said without losing the
essential meaning of the whole.
‘Keep it simple.’ Kyle said. The box clicked and a panel popped
up.
‘Just a let you know I thought it would be fairly easy.’ George
was looking smug again.
They all crowded round and looked inside. There was a small
piece of paper it looked like it had been torn from a note book. There
was also a photo of Samantha Parker. It appeared to have been taken
when she was a little younger. She certainly looked carefree.
‘College photo.’ said Kyle, he handed it to George then took the
piece of paper between finger and thumb.
‘Looks like coordinates. Write it down Sam.’
‘Got it,’ Sam peered at the photo.
‘What is it?’ said George, seeing Sam’s face.
‘Dunno. Something, nothing. Maybe.’
‘Right. Are we done here?’ said Kyle.
‘Let’s go.’ said George.
They indicated the young woman who stood at a respectful
distance to come and get the box. She did so, and then led them to the
entrance lobby.
‘Will there be anything else?’ she regarded them with a blank
professionalism that gave absolutely nothing away.
‘Yes.’ said George, ‘We would like to see the Man with the
glasses.
She smiled thinly, ‘That is not permitted except by special
request.’
‘We’re making a special request.’
He eyes fluttered for a moment, ‘He must make the request. It is
not permitted.’ She did not move.
‘What is your name?’ asked Sam.
‘My name? That is not relevant.’
‘Tell me why your name is not relevant?’
‘I….cannot tell you.’
‘Why not?’ Sam stepped closer.
Her eyes flickered to him, ‘It is not permitted.’
‘Are you getting paid to be so annoying?’ Sam said.
‘I am not permitted.’ She looked confused.
‘Perception filter.’ said George. ‘The staff are covered by it too.’
‘Yes. Yes of course.’ Sam stepped back. The young woman did
not react, but still stood as if waiting for further instructions.
‘What is permitted?’ asked George.
‘Any reasonable request.’
‘I reasonably request entrance to the archives.’ George said
evenly.
‘Right this way Mr Carter.’
George rolled his eyes at the other two. They followed the woman
down another interminable corridor.
‘It must be your animal magnetism.’ said Sam.
‘Shh…just shut up now.’ said George.
They stepped into a dark cold space. It was rather like a
warehouse, but with none of the comforts of heating or lighting. The
woman seemed unaffected by the chill. She showed them how to work
the section lights. They were on a press button that went off after a
few minutes, and were located at the corner of each row of the lattice
of high forbidding shelves.
‘What if we want to look at something on the top?’
‘You will use the stairs I would suppose.’ She said. She abruptly
turned and left them to it.
‘Must feel the cold after all,’ Kyle inched his zip upwards, ‘Brr…
it’s really chilly in here.’
‘Seven degrees.’ said George who had already got his coat fully
zippered and the detection device in his hand, ‘Come on. Let’s look
for the end codes on the row. It must be alphabetical.’
They traversed into the darkness of this huge cold place and the
little pools off light illuminated strange things that they were not here
to investigate. Sam’s head was swivelling. He kept looking as if he
was about to say something, and his eyes were round with wonder.
‘Sorry we haven’t more time.’ said George.
‘That’s okay… just being here… it is amazing.’
‘I think we’re there.’ said Kyle who was not experiencing the
same kind of feeling at all. He shifted his pack on his shoulders and
focused on the next corner.
‘Nearly there.’ George said, ‘The panel is coded with a ‘U’ and is
numbered ‘6’
‘U6,’ said Kyle, ‘Okay.’
‘We find the row and then look for the space.’
‘Space without the panel. Got that.’ Kyle moved ahead checking
as he went anxious to get this over and done with as soon as possible.
‘What does the ‘U’ stand for?’ Sam strolled next to George and
dug his hands deep into his pockets.
‘Unidentified. Unexpected. Uncatalogued. Uncontrolled.’
‘Ugly?’ Sam stopped.
‘Well that is.’ George raised his scanner, ‘yep. Definitely red hot.’
‘No it’s not.’ called Kyle from the other side.
They walked round to find him stood next to a large red upright
oblong.
‘Well! That’s more like it!’ Sam seemed genuinely pleased for the
first time since they had arrived.
‘It’s quite big.’ Kyle was round the side of it. ‘It just doesn’t seem
like it.’
‘And there is the empty slot.’ George got it out of his pocket and
slid it into place.
‘Best not leave it there George.’ Sam pointed out, ‘You don’t
know who else may be looking for this.’
‘You know; it’s funny, but I really was wondering what would
happen if someone realised what we are doing here!’ he slid the small
panel out and hid it again.
‘Yes. Fine.’ Sam went forward and laid his hand on the door
shape in its front panel. A door swung open on silent hinges.
‘Whoa! That was unexpected.’ He didn’t move.
‘Okay.’ said George, ‘Kyle, some light please.’ They stepped
inside.
The thing that had been infecting everyone imagination was like a
well-appointed large caravan, except that there was a little rather cosy
control room, with a small heavily glassed window.
‘There’s no power to any of it, or is there?’ said Kyle.
‘Dead as last year’s fashions.’ said Sam.
‘What do you know?’ Kyle prodded a button on the neat and
attractive console. A small light came on. Then a small panel
illuminated too.
‘It’s a message. ‘Reactivate by pressing A & Z simultaneously
while attaching control node.’ Well that’s no good.’
‘We don’t have a thingummy do we?’
‘No.’ George ran his fingers over the console, ‘Come on Baby;
ready to give up your secrets yet?’
‘What was that?’ Kyle went quickly to the door. Sam clicked off
the torch he had been holding steady.
‘Lights are on near the entrance there’s someone else in here.’
‘Gentlemen,’ George huddled close we need to find the old guy. I
think this is where we get the thing we are looking for.’
They avoided the string of lights and slid back into the corridor
and the relative warmth of the narrow wooden corridor again. In a few
minutes they were back at the reception area. A different person on
duty waved to them.
‘Mr Wright, Mr Carter and Mr Owen. Your presence is
requested.’
They sat in a row in a warm and comfortable room with huge
picture windows that revealed the startling skyline of London from a
high vantage point. The man in the glasses sat opposite and poured out
tea from a large steaming tea pot. It was bright yellow and the mugs
were in a selection of bright colours. The whole effect was somewhat
alarming, yet amusing at the same time.
‘It is always the coincidences that puzzle people the most. Yet
they are the stuff of our business. For it is not an accident. But then
you know this.’
‘Fate.’ said George.
‘Fate. Or a happy appointment?’ he smiled engagingly, ‘I am, as
they say a recluse. That is more due to other people’s perception of
things than any actual preference on my side.’
‘Not a great social life you must have.’
‘I have a wonderful time at the theatre and parties and a social
functions of various kinds. In fact I may attend many more than you
would reckon. It is all a little thing that happens. I go. They forget me.
I talk to someone, and they go to get a drink and I am gone from their
mind. It is not a trick,’ he said on seeing Kyle’s expression, ‘not
really. Some people can see through it. They are the ones that I like to
associate with personally. They will become my associates in a
business like sense. They are many and varied these….associates.’
‘Are they good people?’ George asked.
‘Ah,’ he gave them an amused smile, ‘you could say that.’
‘So what does that make us?’ Kyle was sipping his tea carefully in
case George suddenly moved and the comfy settee undulated in
response.
‘I see,’ the man said and slid his glasses into place. You are not
sure on the quality of my screening process. If you trust me, can you
also be sure that I have not in turn trusted some other Bad People who
will do Bad Things?’
‘Yes.’ said Kyle.
‘I like you Mr Owen. So I will tell you a little secret. I have been
here since this place came into being. Not here; as in I never leave.
But you are unlikely ever to see me in public for the reasons that I
stated earlier.’
‘How long has this place been here?’ Kyle asked.
‘Straight to the point! I like a Man who asks the right questions!
And so I will tell you…. I don’t know. It is that simple. If I did know
it would probably affect my ability to associate with people in the
world as we all know it. It is a small price to pay. I do not forget the
information. That is secure you understand. It cannot be lost. That is
my role. To remember. Someone must have asked me at some point
when I first started the job. But of course that would involve
remembering the thing I choice to forget, so I cannot see it. But I see
everything else… so you may ask and I will answer.’
Kyle could see George fizzing with an almost childlike sense of
uncontrolled excitement; the ultimate access to the place with all the
information offered to him for free with any question ready to be
answered.’
‘So what is the catch?’ asked Sam, as ever bringing the rest of
them back to earth.
‘You take with you what you take with you.’
‘Do you mean, what we see, or remember only?’
‘Of course.’ He smiled, ‘I cannot let any old thing out of here.
Your position defines what you see. You all will see different things,
you all will be right. And you all will have dreams. I have decided to
grant you one thing. One thing you want. So what is it?’
George was about to speak. He held up a hand. ‘Anything.
Anything at all.’
‘Anything?’ George repeated, his doubt obvious, ‘we are here for
the object that was hidden, but….’
‘Steady on George.’ said Sam.
‘We came here to find something.’ said Kyle, ‘That is all we
need.’
‘The young Man is quite right. Yes, yes. All you need.’ He stared
at George and something was communicated. George went very quiet
and was usually thoughtful for several minutes. The calm Man got up
and in a minute returned with a little objet wrapped in a large white
hanky. He unfolded it and gave it to Kyle. It was round and rather like
a large golden donut. It had a hinge on three edges, three section
fiddled back to receive the coiled metal that the others had taken for a
bangle of some sort but was actually a power supply for the object.
George had it inside his jacket. He brought it out. It fitted perfectly.
‘What now?’ Sam asked.
‘Home Gentlemen.’ said their host, ‘My assistant will show you
out.’
‘But….’ George said and then fell silent. They had what they
came for. Best leave it for now.
‘You never said what your name was.’ said Sam, as they stood up.
‘Ah! But what is a name? You will not forget me. And this I can
be sure of with so much experience of these things. You will go home
and wonder all evening; and you will find it most beneficial to add a
pinch of brown sugar.’
‘Thank you for your time….err Mr Director.’ said Kyle.
‘You are welcome.’ he replied and then they were ushered out.
*****
Chapter Six
Something Sexy, Sinister, & Bold.
‘That is absolutely the most amazing thing I have ever heard!’
Gina was talking loudly in the kitchen at George’s house. She was in
full on energised mode. It was usually brought about by an excess of
good deeds and a lot of new clients praising her for her forthright
energetic appraisal of their needs. Gina had most of the rest of the
world put into boxes of her own invention. People had labels, and
labels meant control. She seemed to go completely off it in front of
George, except when she had just come straight from work rather than
going to her place first. Sam didn’t like it at all and was trying to ring
Juliet and grimacing while Gina carried on regaling them with the
exploits for the day and reflections on the magnificence of their own
success. She was generous in her praise especially when in a good
mood and this only served to annoy Sam even more. Kyle shrugged
and started on the spouts. George had been going through all the
vegetables in the universe in something like alphabetical order. When
asked by Kyle if it was some sort of special diet, he just said that it
was so that he didn’t forget any. Well, not unless they were hated.
You had to admit he was as least trying to keep his strength up. Kyle
reckoned that was the only way that Gina didn’t get the better of him.
A little while later, things had quietened down to a slow simmer.
Sam still seemed subdued and sighed rather heavily.
‘For goodness sake! Take your ugly face somewhere else!’
George shooed Sam out to get his coat and then took the Range Rover
keys of the hook and flung them in his direction. Sam took them
without making any acid comments and steamed away to follow up on
whatever conversation he had been having with the lovely Juliet.
With Sam off fixing whatever it was the atmosphere lightened
considerably, even Gina calmed down and was characteristically
draping herself round George and being terribly attentive and loving.
She winked at Kyle and produced some chocolate out of her
voluminous bag, ‘Free Samples.’ she said.
‘Thanks.’ Kyle felt better than he had all day now the misery
cloud that was Sam had gone from the room. They sat down to
Chicken and veggies and glasses of wine. George was flushed with
success. Kyle was happy, but a little more sober in his expectations
that this was just the beginning of a lot of trouble and weirdness, since
the promise of it had been hanging over them all day and it had not
materialised in a concrete enough form yet. That is if you don’t count
what happened earlier, and weren’t freaked out by that chilly place
underground.
About half an hour later there was a knock on the door. It seemed
odd and George went with his best truncheon and pepper spray to
answer it.
‘Who the hell is that?’ George was clearly on down time and not
in the frame of mind to accept any more excitement for one day.
On the door step was the tall Man from the path at Treacle’s
house. He stood back a little. He was very tall and even allowing for
the fact that he was stooping under a heavy bag seemed at least six
foot four inches tall. Or perhaps it was the rather floppy hat that added
to effect.
‘May I come in?’
‘Kyle. Get the scanner.’ said George without taking his eyes off
him.
‘Got it.’ Kyle passed it forward.
‘What is that?’ asked the stranger.
‘Just stay still.’ said George, ‘Okay. Now what is the password?’
‘I am friend of Treacle Green.’
‘Really?’ said George with heavy sarcasm, ‘And I am the Queen
of Sheba. Credentials are required.’
‘Very well. Since you asked me so nicely.’ he put his bag down
and felt through all his pockets.
‘Ah… here it is.’ He drew out an object that was familiar to
George. So much so that he knew every detail of its inner workings.
‘Impossible!’ breathed Kyle. There, offered in the strangers hand
was a tag chain identical to ones that George had issued to the people
in the Sandglass group.
‘Whose is it?’ asked George evenly.
‘Mine.’ said the Man, ‘May I come in?’
They faced each other while the Stanger told them what he could.
Even George, who was at that moment in a demanding mood didn’t
ask for further justification. He was a Traveller. And he was from
here; but forward by four years.
‘I came back to warn you that there is something that we have not
taken into account. The paradox of this event cannot be
underestimated. It is twisting the whole of local time out of shape.’
‘Yeah, there has been a lot of that sort of thing going on recently.
Do you know about Sam Parker?’
‘A little,’ he said, ‘but it is Treacle that I am concerned with. They
are the one who managed to fool your boy. A skill indeed.’
‘A hack?’ asked Kyle.
‘An alteration. It was a slippage of only a few per cent but the
cascade of events brings out some very difficult outcomes for all of
you.’
‘Are any of them life threatening?’
‘Not for you and your two friends; no. but I cannot speak for the
rest. There is limited information I can tell you. You will have to trust
me.’
‘Yeah. Looks like.’ said George, and sipped more from the glass
he had brought through from the kitchen.
‘The key is in the encrypted file. The one your friend is guarding
so lovingly.’
Kyle looked up. He was cuddling his laptop while the Man spoke.
He didn’t want to leave it open on the low table while they had
visitors.
‘Yes. Well, I’m not inviting you to that party. We will have to
crack this one.’
‘Yes you will. Tonight.’
‘Why?’ the one syllable was hard and demanding.
‘You really think I’m not on the level,’ the man said to George.
‘Test me if you are in doubt.’
‘I just don’t like the idea of someone already knowing what I am
going to do.’
‘I don’t know. There is still a different choice to be made. How
many people get to change their own destiny? Would it be better than
refusing to do so, if you actually had the chance?’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ George narrowed his eyes, in
dangerous way. He might not doubt this man’s place in the scheme of
things but it didn’t mean he was destined to like him either.
‘I mean, that you must find out what it says. Because you may
make some elementary mistakes if you don’t already know what is
going to happen when you eventually find out the truth about what is
happening.’
‘So tell me;’ George attempted a smile, ‘what should I call You,
prophet of doom?’
‘Call me Zach.’ he smiled and his eyes seemed to be laughing, ‘I
prefer my full name but that is too much of a mouth full for most
people.’
‘I’m not most people.’ George sounded cross, ‘We need more
than confusing mumbo jumbo. If you can’t do better than that, I will
have to, as a courtesy you understand, throw you out.’
‘Well that’s okay. But before you do, might I suggest that you get
in touch with your friends at the hospital.’
‘Why?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Why can’t you tell me?’
‘It is a matter of saving a life. That is what you do isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ George seemed to shift then and he sat back as if unstrung.
The stranger had hit the sweet spot of George’s true vocation and
called on his oath to preserve life into being.
‘Fine.’ said George.
‘Then I will go.’ he stood.
‘If you know me in the future, then you’ll know I prefer to have
someone ring first.’
‘Only if you’ve met them before.’
‘You said you know me. Isn’t that enough for you people?’
‘The job of a Traveller is not always a merry jaunt my friend.’
‘Yes. But a bet it can be interesting.’
‘You want to know what it’s like?’
‘Yes. Of course I do.’
‘One day. You’ll know. A little while George, a little while.’ And
with that he turned to go. Gina met him on the way out as he donned
his outer wear again. ‘Nice hat.’ she said enthusiastically.
‘You always say that.’ the stranger replied.
‘I do?’ Kyle watched Gina’s cogs whirring from the other end of
the hall, ‘I do!’ she said brightly. Kyle sighed, she would be
unbearable now. George better be warned…. Then again, why spoil
the surprize?
As it turned out it was timely. George almost straight away got on
the phone to one of his Doctor pals. He really was taking this thing
seriously. He came back in and then wandered off to the kitchen with
his coffee making face on. A few minutes later you could hear the
plop plop of the percolator. Gina curled up in the armchair and started
reading a book. George looking thoughtful came in with a tray.
‘Chocolate biscuits?’ Kyle raised an eyebrow, ‘What is the
occasion?’
‘Me being thick.’ said George, ‘I should have seen it. I really
ought to see it.’
‘See what?’
‘The connection.’
‘Between what and what?’ Kyle was patient.
‘The Man who was missing and the Cheese Sandwich.’
‘You mean,’ said Kyle carefully, ‘the man who turned up recently
and the Sandwich that was left on the bench when Drucker vanished?’
‘The very same. It is all about cheese.’
‘Sorry I don’t follow.’
‘Universal constants in the Universe. There isn’t a culture that
doesn’t have it.’
‘Have what?’
‘Cheese making.’
‘Cheese making?’ Kyle was incredulous, ‘What has this got to do
with pickled gherkins, weird archives and a fax; a diary, a mad guy,
and zebra stripes…. Oh; well yes.’ Kyle paused, ‘you have me. I’m
sure it’s connected.’
‘Undoubtedly.’ said George ‘I just can’t work out how.’
‘The Man who showed up. He is still in a hospital somewhere?’
‘Yep.’
‘And he cannot remember who he is?’
‘Nope.’
‘And you think you know?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Two out of three definites. Not bad. What’s for pudding?’
‘There are more donuts if you want.’
‘There’s cheesecake too,’ said Gina, ‘I checked it. It’s okay.’
‘Uh…. Thanks Gina.’ Kyle fetched a slab of the cheesecake. It
helped him concentrate. George took down the plunger on the pot of
coffee and took out a pad of paper. ‘I need to think.’
‘See you later Sweetie.’ said Gina, and wafted upstairs without
complaint.
Sam came back late. He sat in the kitchen and nursed a whisky.
He said nothing to Kyle who still sat trying vainly to crack into the
file. It just wouldn’t give.
‘Trouble?’ Sam came and stood behind him.
‘I’ve tried everything. It is being a stubborn asshole.’
‘Reverse it.’
‘The code?’
‘The deposit box. Yeah. Try it.’
‘Okay.’ Kyle tapped in the number which was the equivalent of
the binary code. Black, white, white, black…. The original. That was
One, Zero, Zero, One; that was Nine. So reversed Zero, One, One,
Zero…. And that was….Six. Not four letters….. So what do you do?
Add a zero? Front or back? Zero, Six... Bother!!
‘Try S,I,X,0; or 0,S,I,X.’
‘It’s the second one, I think.’ Kyle tapped it in.
‘We’re in!’ Kyle was relieved for a moment until he saw a blank
file.
‘There is nothing to be seen. Are you sure it’s right?’
‘It’s bloody big file for something that empty.’
‘Properties of Word files.’ Sam mused, ‘It could be in a very
small box somewhere.’
‘No… look there is one big blank empty box.’
‘Is it there.’ said Sam.
‘Of course it is. Piss off for a bit and see if George needs anymore
coffee, I’ll work it out.’
About an hour later George was eating mini pancakes.
‘I’m surprized you aren’t fatter?’ Sam remarked.
‘Shut up.’ George flipped another one.
Kyle looked up and pressed another key. ‘One big annoying text
box.’ he muttered, then straightened and stretched his back.
‘Is it hiding from you?’ George said through a mouth full of
pancake.
‘Ah!! I get it…. I think…. Yes…. no…. shit.’
‘Just one thought,’ George said clearly this time and stirred his
batter mix, ‘Have you tried moving the text box?’
‘Yes. You’ve tried selecting all first and copy to another file?’
‘Of course. It’s empty.’
‘The contents of the file have to be somewhere. Maybe they are
hidden behind that box in another box?’
‘Gadzooks! He’s right!’ Kyle pealed it off carefully. Underneath
blank. Select all. Yes!
‘There’s something here.’ said Kyle. He carefully enlarged the
little box. It looked blank but when he selected all, there was
something there. He copied it to another file. Colour of text: turned to
Black.
‘She rides!!’ Kyle was pleased. That was until he saw the string of
letters. All nonsense.
‘It’s bloody encrypted!’ Kyle was half way between hysterical
relief and being cross, because there was still a way to go before he
could call it a night.
George glanced at it, ‘It might be a Playfair cipher.’
‘I knew that,’ said Kyle, he turned to Sam, ‘You know I knew
that?’
‘Yeah, right. But can you decipher it?’
‘Yes, if I have the key word.’
‘Is it encrypted more than once?’
‘More than one word…. Black, White…. Or perhaps Chain……
or even Zebra?’
Sam got out his notebook and pen, ‘I think you need a little help
Kyle.’
‘Thanks. I mean alright.’ He picked up a biro and prepared to do
battle with the decryption boxes and possible patterns.
The following morning, in the early light a figure shuffled their
way along. The old woman with her big bag; her aprons and her
dusters and her packet of Murray Mints. She let herself into Sam
Parker’s house ready to do the weekly deep clean. She set to it with a
will as she always did. Her elbow was aching a little so she stopped
for a cup of tea. Just as she was rinsing the cup out she saw a shadow
pass by the kitchen window. What? Who? But she felt suddenly
suspicious. A moment later it was gone. The morning was brightening
and she hummed as she worked; she checked the bugs and checked
the pantry for any sign that Samantha had been looking a little too
closely. Without; someone was knocking on the door. She saw the
shape of the postie by the steps. And knowing this was a usual
occurrence answered it. A man bounded towards her knocking her
out. He leapt over her body, and was rifling through the kitchen
drawers as quick as you like. She stirred, being of stronger stuff and
not easily knocked out. She went towards him. She needed to see his
face; whatever the cost. He had a hat pulled down. She grabbed it
from behind. He instinctively turned. Her fate was sealed. He drew a
long fine knife out. Time to understand we mean business. She
absorbed his face, every detail, every contour. She would know it
again. Even if he aged. In time.
George and Kyle were on the way there when they heard a siren.
They parked a little way away.
‘Stay here.’ George ordered. He came back a few minutes later,
‘It’s the help. She’s dead.’ He climbed back into the driving seat,
‘Fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck!’ he slammed his head against his crossed
arms.
‘Will they think it was Samantha?’
‘Not likely. He left boot prints. Size twelve. Bloody Hell!’
‘Do you want me to ask anything?’ Sam looked strained.
‘Yeah. Hop out, find out what you can. Feign ignorance; get a lift
back to the station, see what you can pick up. And I’ll see you later. I
think we need to visit Henry’s grave. I think I can cope with it now.’
Sam jumped out and sauntered towards the nearest policeman.
George turned the car round and followed the lane back onto the main
road. Kyle navigated them round the one way system. For as George
said: ‘I’m not having some electronic chick telling me where to get
off.’
Kyle and George stared at the graveyard, and then walked slowly
towards the slightly newer part.
‘It’s a big plot.’ Kyle walked round it carefully.
‘Yeah. Just a bit.’ George took out his camera, ‘A lot of plants
have been put in. Sam wasn’t exaggerating.’
‘Shall we go to see Treacle?’
‘No. Not good. There’s a reporter and I don’t think it will serve
any purpose. Besides, if our assassin does turn up there, I don’t want
him getting a good look at us before I knock him out.’
‘You’re not joking.’
‘I never joke about gratuitous violence.’
‘Quite right too.’ Kyle shrugged, ‘So what do we think about
this?’
‘Too many plants.’ said George, ‘It lacks subtlety. There is
something amiss here.’
‘When did it happen?’
‘Last summer.’
‘Burial?
‘Three months later.’
‘Was the will contested?’
‘No as far as I know.’ George turned his face to the sun, ‘Nothing
really makes sense. Well not yet.’
‘Waiting for the fog to clear?’
‘Something like. Come on, let’s go. There is nothing more to be
done here. Let the dead rest in peace.’
They climbed in the car and George offered Kyle some gum out
of the dashboard drawer.
‘Thanks. So where now?’
‘Now we do what we should have done in the first place. Go back
to the point of origin.’
‘Sheffield?’
‘That’s the one. Is there anything you need?’
‘No. got it all here.’
‘Okay. Let’s go.’
*****
Chapter Seven
The Unpredictable Truth.
It’s the smell, if such a thing can be communicated. That of old
corridors. Places of learning that stand in their dusty polished
splendour and scent the world of learning with that mixture of dust,
beeswax, warm bricks, and old books. And perhaps a school is similar
except for the smell of cooked cabbage that hovers in the air like an
unquiet ghost. George made an appointment to see the head mistress.
It seemed like the decent thing to do. He introduced himself in a semi
honest, yet obscurely referenced way that left the person he met with
the impression of learning and medical knowledge that although the
truth, wasn’t quite the emphasis that did reflect his true purposes. Kyle
was instructed to remain as silent as possible, and then with the time
was right excuse himself and find his way into the computer system of
the school. Having already procured a layout plan, and worked out
that a suitably timely activation of the fire alarm and possibly the
sprinklers if things got a little tense would make it possible for George
and himself to leave without being followed. It was simple, rough, and
relied on people generally not playing attention. But then of course,
most of them don’t. George’s charm and professional manner gave
him the edge with exactly this sort of educationalist. So he chatted
amiably, and Kyle made friends with the intranet.
George glanced at his watch; his phone had not begun to jiggle in
his pocket. Maybe it was shielded, or Kyle was not finding it easy….
Not likely. George had almost run out of things to say about the
research arm of the hospital he was supposedly representing.
‘So wonderful… Mr Carter. Our Summer fayre would welcome a
stand and the most generous donation to the school is so timely!’
‘I’m glad of that.’ George was stalling now, ‘I hope that we can
bring a few of your young people round to the idea that a medical
career is a worthy and noble outlet for their talents.’
‘Oh! Yes indeed. We have such talented young people. So full of
promise and the joy of life. It had always been an aim of mine to
encourage the sciences, all of them. A very noble cause indeed.’
Uh oh! George tried not to show the hungry for information look
on his face. He went for careful neutrality instead, ‘A very noble way
to spend one’s time in life. A good career. Excellent prospects for the
right student.’
‘I like to think so.’ she said, ‘It has been a long time since we
looked at awarding the Boddington-Wright Trophy for exceptional
achievement.’
‘Is that a bequest to the school?’
‘Oh, yes. It comes with a large sum; a really substantial reward for
all that hard work.’
George was about to reply to this promising line of enquiry, when
his phone buzzed. He looked pointedly at his watch, ‘Goodness! Is
that the time already? I will have to go to my next appointment.’
‘A pleasure Mr Carter,’ she said as they both stood up, ‘Most
enlightening.’ The school bell sounded as on cue for that moment.
George was making his way down the steps just as Kyle was
sliding into the crowd streaming forth. They both were shuttled
towards the entrance with the wave of student bodies.
‘Got it?’ asked George without looking at him.
‘Yeah!’ said Kyle in super casual mode. They went two different
ways round and met back again at George car.
‘That was just about the most stress I have ever had for one
morning!’
‘Why?’ George looked startled as of all his worst nightmares were
about to come true all at once.
‘Calm down big guy. There is nothing of threat to us. But
someone might be regretting a few of their actions through the whole
of the internet.’
‘How so?’
‘A certain fellow might find his account full of jelly teddies by
this Friday. And he will definitely have an order for two thousand
green Lego bricks arriving early in the morning.’
‘That is not that many.’
‘Every day for a week; double on Saturday. He was spying on the
girls. I saw the video evidence; the shower heads have been wired.’
‘Isn’t that dangerous?’
‘Not really.’
‘I wouldn’t like to tangle with one of those yummy mummies.
They do look dangerous with their hairdos and their pointless activity
and lunches.’
‘Not to say expensive clothes and pointy nails.’ said Kyle.
‘I’ve got nothing against expensive clothes. But I dislike them
being wasted on really stupid people.’
‘I don’t like the way they jangle car keys in their hands, and stand
looking impatient even when they are sitting down.’
‘You are very funny.’ George interrupted him, ‘but what about the
Science Prize?’
‘It has been award only twice since Samantha’s time. On both
occasions there were no other contenders. The people are normal;
there are supportive parents to the brainy sprog. So nothing that needs
following up.’
‘Fine. What about the prize back in the eighties?’
‘Samantha was one of three that year.’
Oh?’
‘Yes. She, and another from her school; and then someone from
out of town. Specialisms too young, that sort of thing.’
‘Yes. I saw some of the photos on the wall in the Head teacher’s
office. A notable event indeed.’
‘I’m glad I don’t think tangentially.’ said Kyle, ‘Anyway, there is
nothing else. It was all done properly. Or does seem so according to
the records. She got lucky maybe.’
‘I suspect outside interference,’ said George, ‘Could we
extrapolate back to what readings might have been produced just
before the event?’
‘What?’ Kyle glazed over, ‘I don’t see why not. Isn’t it possible
that this may be ruled by something way beyond our ability to predict
or control? I mean the records aren’t always so reliable. The only
advantage is that we know what did in fact happen in the main flow of
events…. So, yes it might be worth a try. Triangulate possible things
with known actual events to provide more accuracy to the
predictions.’
‘I say,’ George was startled, ‘That’s brilliant.’
‘I am rather. Don’t you think?’
‘Yes Kyle. Now let’s decide what is to be done about the Drucker
connection.’
‘Right.’ Kyle reached into his bag,
‘No. This has to been done fat free and no sugar, get it?’
‘Humph, fine.’ Kyle made a face, but made no further move to get
out the sturdy mini-computer.
They parked near the Lab. It was deserted. A clutch of new build
to the right was all that was left that would indicate any sign of life.
Kyle got out first. He kicked a grassy tussock with his foot, ‘Why is it
still here?’
‘Economics.’ said George, ‘There is a lot of stuff that had lain
fallow around that time. No one could afford to knock it down.’
They entered carefully, watching all the while for signs of
unstable ceilings.
‘It seems alright. It is just old.’ Kyle hissed softly.
‘Why on earth are you whispering?’ George said and went
forward to the stairwell. Next to that, was the gapping maw of the lift
shaft.
‘Someone else has been in here.’ Kyle said.
‘No doubt,’ George turned the corner, ‘It is against the law to
squat in commercial buildings. But if you want a roof anything will
do.’
They reached the outer offices that housed the suite were
Samantha had once worked. It was just space, lots of empty space and
a few broken bit of office furniture that remained as the movers took
less care.
‘It all went to the older building in the city centre.’
‘Next to the University?’ Kyle asked.
‘Yes. There does seem to be that connection every time doesn’t
there?’
‘It isn’t that they are more corrupt. I think they just have a
different way for things to be declared to the tax man. It is a good
place to hide something. A way of avoiding certain…. Mmm things
becoming taxable. Strip the assets and what do you have?’
‘A company name?’
‘Yes. Just a name. So where did all the money go?’
‘A paper trail?’
‘Flushed through someone else’s accounts. No one thinks that it is
their business. And everything is legit. Nothing really can be traced.’
‘Storage space?’
‘Perhaps,’ George walked out into the empty room, ‘But I think
you would find it empty. If it exists at all.’
‘Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?’
‘The archive. The machine.’
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing so far. But someone is looking for it. And the Historical
Preservation Society has kept it safe for all this time.’
‘But why let us in?’
‘Credentials Kyle. Credentials. You ate something. It is like an
entry code. They don’t let you in unless you are showing the right
signs. The door simply won’t open. There may be another way in. But
you would need specific knowledge. Another kind of key…. Of
course!!’
‘Samantha?’
‘Yes. She went there, and the staff are not travellers, are they?
Their total discretion. The price… a small part of their memory. A
Key…. We need to get in her house.’
‘We do? But I thought you said we didn’t?’
‘She had something. But it would mean nothing to anyone else….
it must be something she read. And something that was already there.
So she wouldn’t need to have a copy…. Unless the thing itself is the
trigger… no, then she would have to destroy it. It has to be words on a
page. A key trigger.’
‘And we already know that this has been used successfully.’
‘Certain military applications used this memory suppression. You
already have the knowledge. You need a key. It is like a locked file
inside your head…. A bit like the file that you have in fact got! How
did you do?’
‘I think we got down one layer of encryption. But then it got
muddy.’
‘Have you got the original?’
‘I have several copies, all with different attempts to decode…. But
I didn’t try the last word; yet.
‘What word?’
‘Zebra.’
‘Ah!’ George looked thoughtful, ‘Let’s go to a pub and find a beef
and mustard sandwich.’
The art of the Sandwich, in that George was well versed. And
with a pint at his elbow and a lean wodge of beef flowing out the sides
of the crusty bread he was content.
‘The keywords are?’
‘White, Black, Chain, Zebra… and Umm don’t know.’ Kyle
pushed a few beer mats out of the way, ‘It is doing my head in.’ he
added.
‘Tell me the rest of the thing in the notebook.’
‘That is all there was. The verse and the symbol.’
‘Let me see.’
‘Well?’
‘Give it a minute. I’m thinking.’
Kyle stared across the crowded pub waiting for George’s flash of
brilliance to take effect. He noticed someone was looking at him.
Maybe they were just glancing in his direction. Kyle looked down,
looked back up being careful to look just to the right, but seeing if the
person was still staring at them. They were. ‘George.’ said Kyle with a
warning note.
‘Yes. I know.’ said George still chewing on his bread.
‘What now George?’
‘Take your stuff; go to the bar. Wait a few minutes, then leave.’
‘How? There’s three of them now!’
‘Calm yourself. Go. Now.’
Kyle stood and merged with the people pressing forward to get
served. George got up a moment later and the men orientated on him.
Kyle watched. ‘Shit!’ he muttered hugging his rucksack against his
chest.
Suddenly there was a commotion. People were turning. An
excitement was travelling through the room. Like the magnetism of
particles everyone was moving outside onto the beer garden, even the
ones who didn’t know what it was about sensed opportunity and
followed. The way cleared in front of Kyle and the side door was
there with no one in the way. He quickly left and hurried through the
narrow streets to where the car was parked. He let himself in and
ducked down in the back. Ten minutes. He waited. He didn’t dare ring
George. But what was taking so long?
Suddenly George was there. ‘Will you drive? I have evidence.’
George was bagging a mobile phone.
‘Bloody hell?’ Kyle climbed quickly into the driving seat and
strapped himself in. They started gently down the road. In the rear
view mirror Kyle spotted a man looking around trying to find George
again. George slid down in the seat. ‘Take a right.’
‘That’s back to the bar.’
‘Yes. Do it.’ he got his camera out. ‘These guys mean business
and so do I.’
They sailed smoothly past the pub. George wound the window
down and was taking pictures.
‘What the hell are you doing?’
‘They saw my face. I want a record of theirs.’
Kyle took the next left and relaxed a little.
‘Take a right and then a left. First exit at the next roundabout.
Then floor it Kyle.’ George got his phone out.
Kyle grinned, ‘Gridlock bomb?’
‘Just a small one.’
‘Code: ABC7sheep.’
‘Sheep?’
‘Traffic stopping.’
‘Of course.’ said George.
‘Press the button….. Now!!’ Kyle glanced back as the lights
changed and stayed at red while they sped off into the distance.
‘Magnificent!!’ George relaxed, ‘thanks Kyle.’
‘I expect more Donuts.’
‘Whatever you want.’
*****
Chapter Eight
Counting Sheep.
Sam didn’t waste time upon the policeman once he had the feeling
that they might decide to arrest him for….well he kept crossing paths
with them around about the time a body appeared on the scene.
‘One of yours?’ said the young PC.
‘One of my what?’
‘Clients.’
‘No. who is it?’
‘Sorry Sir….’
‘Yeah, it’s police business. I know.’
‘I was going to say, I don’t know the victim. I’m not from round
here. They briefed me.’ he pointed. Sam looked. Yep. He recognised
them. The Inspector turned and caught Sam’s eye for the finest
fraction of a second. It was a look of annoyance. He wasn’t going to
get anywhere.
‘I say,’ said Sam, ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’
‘Nah. I mean no Sir. That’s a tough thing to give up.’
‘How did you?’
‘I’m psychic.’
‘That will do it.’ Sam lit the fag and drew it in.
‘That is really my job. Being a police officer helps them explain
the flashes of insight. But I really am a Psychic.’
‘No kidding.’
‘Unless you’re taking the piss.’ he stood straighter.
‘What’s your name constable?’
‘Bobby Green.’
‘Bobby?’
‘Yes. If you Sir find it amusing, then feel free to laugh loudly. I
think it best to get it out as much as possible.’
Sam stared up at the tree on the nearby verge, and blew a stream
of smoke outwards, ‘So they briefed you?’
‘That is it. So I will have to ask you to be on your way Mr
Wright.’
‘The warning; a timely one. I thank you Constable Green.’
‘Just don’t mention it.’ he gave Sam a really sharp look, ‘Really
don’t mention it.’
Sam walked right past the Inspector who gave Sam the once over.
Sam thought he was trying to work out if there was something coming
he didn’t expect. It seemed to follow Sam around. Unexpected events.
The group of them turned back to their discussion as soon as Sam
passed by. He walked past the yellow and black tape and realised that
he was going to have to take the bus. He did have a car. But it was still
at home. Drat!
‘Are you stuck?’
‘Pardon?’ Sam wheeled round to see the girl form the house the
other day.
‘Hello,’ she came forward, ‘what is your situation? Stranded? In
need of assistance? Or none of the above?’
‘You are a reporter.’
‘Interesting. Most people notice other things before they get to
that usually.’
‘I saw you at the Art Gallery a while ago.’
‘Yes?’ she seemed puzzled, ‘I didn’t see you.’
‘There were a lot of people there.’
‘I never forget a pretty boy. No offense.’
‘None taken.’ he dropped the tab and twisted his heel on it.
‘They might arrest you for littering. So you think that will be
reason enough to get what you so obviously want?’
‘What I want?’
‘I know what it is.’
‘I see.’ Sam tried to play it cool.
‘I am Jade Bergen, reporter. You?’
‘Sam Wright, private detective.’
‘I see now why they are looking at you in that way.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s professional jealously. All the freedom of the job; and none
of the drawbacks. It’s the paperwork that kills it. Are you a spy?’
‘What?’ Sam stepped a little closer seeing the Inspector out of the
corner of his eye moving towards him.
‘Do you need a lift?’
‘That would be appreciated. I was dropped off.’
‘I saw. Your friends?’
‘Associates.’
‘They are not your friends?’
‘Yes. That too.’ the Inspector was getting closer, much to Sam’s
discomfort.
‘Alright,’ she said, ‘but I need your help.’
‘In what way?’
‘Follow me.’ She turned and almost at a run went and unlocked a
bright yellow Mini. She leaned across and pushed open the passenger
door. Sam climbed in. she had the car started up and was pulling out
before Sam had chance to wonder if he had made the right decision
accepting her help.
The stopped outside Treacle’s house.
‘Why are we here?’
‘Oh… I think you know. You’ve been watching the place. Spying
one might say. So I think it’s time you came clean.’
‘Thank you for the lift.’ Sam turned as if to get out. The door
wouldn’t open.
‘Tell me why you are spying on us?’
‘I wasn’t. I mean it’s not like that. Do you mind opening the
door… or the window?’
‘Why? Are you claustrophobic?’
Sam was… a little but he didn’t answer. He screwed his eyes shut
for a moment trying to think of something calming and upbeat… or a
bad joke. That was it.
He looked at her. She watched him with a far more appraising
expression. Her intentions clearly were not hostile. She was feeling
threatened she wanted to make sure he wasn’t the enemy of the
people.
‘Treacle is not the real thing.’ said Sam. ‘I spoke to him.’
‘I know. He is very forgetful. He might not remember you after
today. But he told me.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘We’re friends. That was why I was watching out for him. He’s
alone in the world since the Brother is gone.’
‘You say it like you didn’t know Henry.’
‘I didn’t.’ she turned and reached for a diary, and flipped it open.
‘The last time that the Brother came to see Treacle was about three
months ago.’
‘Right before he died.’ concluded Sam, ‘So what he said was
right.’
‘Yes.’ she seemed hesitant.
‘There is something else, isn’t there?’
‘I know that you will tell your two friends if I tell you so I’ll have
to think about that. But here’s my card. I work for a big magazine. It’s
normally more lifestyle stuff. Not dead bodies and all that.’
Sam took the card.
‘Look, I have to go see Treacle. You will have to walk from here.
But it saved you a step.’
‘Yes. It did. I’ll go to the bus stop.’ he stared at her waiting.
‘The door’s not locked.’ she jumped out the driver’s side. Sam
stood up more slowly and carefully pushed the door shut.
‘I might see you.’ she said, ‘In the course of events it might be
considered inevitable.’
‘I think that is what I can call fate.’
‘The question,’ she said, ‘is do you believe in it?’
‘No.’
‘You don’t like something else being in control of your life?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Me too.’ She smiled, ‘I will see you again though?’
‘Yes…’ Sam stopped, ‘I suppose so.’
‘Of course.’ She said and turned to walk up Treacle’s path to his
front door.
Sam walked and thought about the business with Treacle Green.
Something didn’t fall right. A young, a very attractive reporter being
friends with a Sixty-Something guy. It wasn’t really what he expected.
She was telling the truth; but yet there was a shadow behind it. He
caught himself thinking ‘Why not!’ and double back to find out what
was really going on between them.
Sam peered carefully through a window. Treacle sat in an arm
chair. The girl reported knelt on the floor at his feet. She was talking
in a low soft voice that didn’t carry. He nodded as she spoke. Then on
thing she said and he shook his head. She pressed her point but he still
shook his head in a strong gesture of negation. So then she got a small
rolled up cloth out of her bag. She laid it on the table next to his arm
chair. She unrolled the thing to reveal two syringes. Sam had got the
idea now. She was giving him something, but it wasn’t on
prescription. He needed to know what it was. Sam had a brain wave.
Back at Jade’s Mini; Sam decided if there was ever a time when
George’s training in the noble art of lock-picking should work; well
this was it.
He felt around gently, while ducked down behind the car. He was
conscious of the time. She could come back out at any moment.
Suddenly it gave way.
There was a small net travelling bag with a zipper. Using gloves
he quickly took a look inside. There was one roll in the bag identical
to the one he had just seen. Inside there were three full syringes, the
liquid was bluish and vaguely familiar. He thought though he had not
seen this before. A sound from the house. He would have to be really
quick. He had no other container.
‘Oh well. All’s fair in love and war.’ Sam pocketed one of the
syringes and rolled the others back carefully, making sure that the
knot round the little fabric case was done exactly the same way. He
clicked the boot shut carefully, and making sure that it was closed
properly and put as much walking distance as possible between him
and the Mini.
‘No one ever asks the obvious question,’ George said as they sped
back down the motorway, ‘Is Henry really dead? And is he really
buried in the ground?’
‘That’s ghoulish George.’ said Kyle from the back seat. They had
swapped round to allow Kyle more time to plunder his not
inconsiderable cleverness in trying yet another decryption sequence.
‘Any joy?’ George put the radio on.
‘If we weren’t on the Motorway, and this wasn’t vital, or even
essential. I would throw it out of the window and blow it up.’
‘I won’t buy you a new one.’
‘I’ll just sulk then… or rather I would if I decided to. There has to
be a simple way of doing this. I think I’ve got a letter.
‘Which one?’
‘An ‘E’. But then again it might not be that.’
‘Give it a rest. Have a kip. We’re nearly at Newark.’
‘Yeah, fine.’
George tuned the radio. The weather forecast. ‘Heavy weather.’
said George, ‘We’re driving into it.’
Parker was still waiting in the suite in the mysterious place known
as the Historical Preservation Society. She had been summoned with
politeness to dinner with the director of the institute. Perhaps he was
the person who would answer her questions. She had tried not to
sleep. It was only so she could retain the information in her own mind.
But she was tired and lay back on the comfortable bed. It was so soft.
Not to sleep. Just to close one’s eyes for a moment or two. Just a few
moments. Is it the fact of being a genius, or was she determined? The
memory block was crumbling. It had been activated too soon. The
magazine she had with her. She had read it again. She felt the trigger
and the reinforcing of the information about the archives and their role
in all this. The people who were there, which ones that she could trust.
The advice that was necessary to keep her from harm. Bu the file was
still beyond her reach. If Kyle was doing what he thought he could do
then he might not be in it yet. But them again, without him, she could
not have got it at all. Fate… after all it is all about what you believe.
Not what you want to believe. And truth… harder still. Did she love
him? She curled round in the thick comfort of the coverlet. There was
no room for Love in her world. Yet she craved it. He craved that
warmth. She had had friends and they were gone, lost in time. She felt
so old. Was it possible to go back? Was any of it? She had seen what
Kyle did in the future and she was not in his timeline. Ships that must
pass. Or was this a trick? Of course the file was about some work in
the lab and how it affected the current situation. Samantha was
worrying a little that something she had forgotten until now would
come to seek her out. She tried to cling to that knowledge the stuff of
her dreams. Drucker knew. He had warned her. And control was just
trying is best to maximise her efficiency by keeping distractions to a
minimum, but this was a dangerous piece of self-knowledge and she
could not afford to lose it.
George was thinking about the day and how the least little bit of
difficulty would put things back where they had been two days ago.
Kyle was chewing over the contents of the file in a dogged and
resigned way. Five minutes later Sam arrived and swept George up to
the mini lab. The syringe was examined, and George hurried back
down with something like surprize, alarm, and an arrogant need to be
right. Kyle looked up from his computer with something approaching
a smile. A hopeful sense of optimism bubbled up.
‘It’s a wonderful mixture.’ said Sam, ‘It seems that someone has
perfected the clone technology. This is a repair serum. And get this: it
is matched to the person’s DNA.’
‘You know who it is?’ Kyle’s voice went slightly squeaky. It was
mainly due to his own excitement. But he let them continue.
‘I think we might,’ said George, ‘just running the scan now.’
Ten more minutes and Kyle was still printing out the transcription
of the decoded file.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Sam, ‘you mean you actually did it?’
‘Yep.’ Kyle picked up more sheets.
‘So what does it say?’ Sam reached for the next sheet coming out.
Kyle slapped his wrist, ‘Hands off! I need to keep these in order.’
George, who was being unbearably self-satisfied, took the sheaf
of sheets off Kyle. They all went into the rarely used dining room with
the huge table.
‘Time for a party.’ said Kyle and cracked his knuckles.
‘It is bad for you, you know.’ Sam gestured with both hands.
‘Like you know everything there is to know about healthy living.’
Kyle threw back at him.
‘Shut up!’ said George. They both turned towards him. ‘That’s
better,’ he said in a smooth quiet voice, ‘now pay attention boys. This
is serious stuff. The reporter is doing a little freelancing. She is quite
likely up to her pretty little neck in it. And the man who we thought
was Treacle is none other than a precise copy of Henry Green.’
‘Henry?’ said Sam, ‘But…’
‘I said pay attention. No questions,’ George picked up a sheet,
‘This is telling us that the clones are not just copies; they are soul
migration containers. A spare in the fridge so to speak?’
‘Is that why he looks so much younger?’ asked Kyle.
‘Good question. But no. I don’t think that this ‘Treacle’ is what he
seems to be in any sense. What we are seeing is the body’s attempt to
contain foreign matter. A state of persistent rejection, the stuff in the
syringe counteracts that.’
‘But I thought you said they were perfect clones?’ Kyle tapped a
biro on the table, ‘They are not Plant People, are they?’
‘I wish you wouldn‘t call them that.’ said George, ‘and no, they
are not like them. The thing that is being rejected is the consciousness.
The mind. One might even say the soul.’
Sam was making a face. A deeply held sense of revulsion that
such things were possible or even existed gripped him. He tried to
control the heave in his stomach and then turned to face George, ‘So
this…. this clone. Who or what is it?’
‘I think it must be another person. But that is a person who has yet
to have a walk on part in this particular Psycho drama.’
‘So it could be anyone?’ Sam looked even more disgusted.
‘No. It has to be someone who knows the person intimately:
someone who could be convincing in the role. Perhaps a relative or a
close friend.’
‘Just one thought,’ Kyle tapped the biro some more, ‘Where were
these, err…. Things cooked up?’
‘Good question. I don’t know. But I think it might be right here in
London. Somewhere near the river… you would need a water supply
for cooling. And a means to get them around the country with them
being noticed.’
‘But of course,’ Sam changed tack, ‘there is still the question of
the possible location of the Time machine.’
‘You doubt it? We were there. We were inside it.’
‘We didn’t travel through time George!! And besides, you said
that was a Bad Idea. Remember?’
‘I recall it vividly;’ George didn’t react much to this, as Sam was
looking flushed.
‘I think I need to drink some tea.’ Sam went and flopped in a
comfy chair neat the window.
What is Henry hiding?’ George sat down too. ‘We have found the
pot of gold. But this is going to take weeks to unravel. I suggest the
righteous hack.’
‘But you said NOT to do that?’ Kyle’s need to object was being
overcome by his rabid curiosity even as they spoke.
‘These are special circumstances, and I need the entry ID for
Henry’s old filing system.’
‘Won’t that be deleted?’
George shook his head, ‘The University that employed him as
well as the others would not keep the record in the main hard drive.
They will get you forever in some other way. There is a backup, an
archive of things, of files that resist deletion.’
‘Resist?’ Sam turned to Kyle.
‘They won’t let you get rid of them. They duplicate a backup. The
duplicate is an exe file as well. In the event that the original is lost, it
simply created another copy from a secure backup.’
‘But what if that is your problem? I’m not trying to change
anything; and then suddenly wap! What happens to the body that had
a soul that doesn’t fit it?’
‘Goes to the nearest available body…. Or at a pinch an animal.
Quicker that way.’ George heaved himself upright, ‘A cup of tea. And
then we can look for the relevant port.’
‘The final resting place of Henry’s research?’ asked Sam.
‘Where the real people are!’ George waved his hands, ‘Haven’t
you been playing attention?’
‘No. said Sam.
‘Tough.’ said Kyle.
‘This is weird.’ George said suddenly, ‘it is as if we have been led
to this point. As if we have something someone else he wants. And we
can deliver the package most effectively. Kyle, check the subroutines.
I think it will help set my mind at rest.’
‘Yeah… sure.’ Kyle was not making any objection, as George
disappeared to fetch the diary, and make the tea, ‘What is the most
relevant are the sub-normal bits.’
‘Do you mean the computer file or the….. err, real people?’ Sam
gazed at the ceiling.
‘Both,’ said Kyle, ‘It’s called multitasking.’
‘I think you’ve been alone too long.’ Sam stabbed the air with his
finger.
‘And I think you need to talk to Juliet.’ retorted Kyle, ‘stop
bugging me.’
‘Well at least I have a girlfriend! Samantha doesn’t seem to want
to get up close and personal at the moment, if ever?’ Sam stood up,
‘Oh, I forgot. She is only on the wish list. I guess that means you’re
keeping your options open?’
Kyle stared at him with his mouth open. Sam stomped out of the
room, just as George came back in: ‘Well, that was almost
unpredictable.’ he said.
Kyle breathed out in a heavy sigh, ‘Well I guess Scrabble is not
on later then.’
As a result of Sam's mini meltdown, George turned his attention
to the clone research that Henry had allegedly been involved in:
‘Because’ he said, ‘There is less chance that we won't hit upon the
truth sooner or later’
‘I just don't get it.’ said Kyle.
‘Just because I didn't say anything doesn't mean I don't know what
is happening.’
‘Juliet said something to you?’
‘She did in fact take your advice. I had to mop up a lake full of
tears. She's really scared I'm afraid,’ he handed Kyle another mug of
tea, ‘and we might be the only thing between her and a fatal moment
of indecision.’
‘Thanks for having such faith in me.’ Kyle tapped a key casually,
‘I thought you didn't know.’
‘Really, when didn't I know what is going on?’
‘Err..... so what about Sam?’
‘He will just have to tough this one out. It is unfinished business,
in a manner of speaking.’
‘Is it about that other thing?’
‘Yeah,’ George's eyes unfocused, ‘I don't know how Sam is the
magnet for paradoxical events. But somehow he is.’
‘And the thing with the reporter girl; tell me about that.’
‘That is a bit of a mystery, I grant you. There seems to be no
connection between her and Henry's brother. How is it she has the
drugs that the brother needs? This is bugging me.’
‘I already checked her out George. She appears to be completely
clean. Not even a parking ticket.’
‘Careful Huh. That I find suspicious in itself.’
‘She is what she appears to be. Do you want me to look deeper
in?’
‘No. This is back to the drawing board. There is something in here
that cannot be got at by conventional means. Put the computer away.
We will do a mind map.’
‘Away? Are you..... um okay?’
‘Right as rain. After all I'm not the one with the complicated Love
life.’
‘Seriously?’
‘That is you and Sam. I am a happy man. I can therefore devote
my effort to getting to the bottom of this increasingly complex
mystery.’
‘A really big pad of paper then?’ Kyle stood looking expectant.
‘Make it the A0 stuff. It is in the back office.’ he dangled the key
in front of Kyle's face. Kyle snatched the key with a sudden jolt of
enthusiasm; which unless the novelty wore off, would carry him
through the undergrowth of all the multifarious distinctions of
meaning and change to find the empirical truth behind the mask of all
things.
*****
Chapter Nine
Revelations of Absurdity.
There is a moment for all of us. That moment in your life when
you discover the real purpose of a particular object, idea or kitchen
appliance; and your life is transformed. Ever after you will see a
version of that very thing everywhere you go.
For Sam it was tin openers. He went back to his flat and sat in the
semidarkness trying not to cry over Juliet. How can something so
great…. somehow be so Not Great, and cause him and Juliet to carry
that big heavy shopping bag of emotional pain? He hadn’t got to the
point of feeling guilty about Kyle. He hadn’t even got to the point of
sending a text to George at least to let him know where he was. He sat
very still and then suddenly moved. In the kitchen he flicked the light
on banishing the horrible twilight with the stark bright light of kitchen
cabinets and shiny, tidy things. On the table the thing stood: a strange
monument to the forgotten art of inventing stuff just for the sake of it.
He let his mind slip sideways into reminiscence. Not a good idea if
you really want to use said object to extract some tasty meaty chunks
for you enormous and ever hungry cat. She was at this moment
trotting along the balcony and winding between plant pots. She
seemed to be keeping a regular schedule in a subdued rather human
allergic way. Gone were the midnight jaunts; the falling into other
people’s shopping bags and the sense of smug pleasure at getting
someone to feed you treats even though you weren’t actually hungry.
But now she seemed morose. Sam thought it was like a human
depression, but she seemed annoyingly happy, just not as adventurous.
She was suffering a strange kind of loss too. A love that was familiar
yet odd, with a friend of Sam’s. Where had he gone? With weirdly
distorted thoughts of Juliet popping into his mind he didn’t have much
processing power left for devoting to his friend Jay. But then, as he
did consider it for a moment, he realised that Jay didn’t really consider
him at all…. maybe. He was there and he was gone, just when Sam
was getting used to the other Lad being there. They had known each
other a long time ago back at college. And for reasons that would
require a lot of explaining Jay was not quite the person that Sam
remembered from long ago. He had been involved in the ‘Sandglass’
project. The same one that Sam had been working on as a technician.
The whole thing had gone to hell in a bucket and Sam had been the
one to help put some of the broken remnants of the human guinea pigs
back together. Jay had been one of the main ones. George seemed to
think he would come back. Sam was sceptical. Being wanted for a
crime you didn’t commit was really more than a reason to stay away.
And there was nothing they could do for him. This was another
connected branch in the same forest, even in the same tree. What did
all these people have in common?
They could travel through time.
Sam thought for a moment about the ramifications of taking a trip
to another place in time, and it just made him feel sick. But then he
did already. He was mourning for a relationship that almost nearly,
but not quite had been the best thing that ever happened to him. In true
melodramatic style he was mentally preparing a farewell speech. He
shook his head trying to remind himself that this was silly. But, it was
as if he needed to be sure how he would react in that eventuality.
Planning and controlling things were still his lifebelt. And even Juliet,
who had things of her own to plan around had not managed to break
him free of that habit of mind.
While these thoughts were at their height, he heard a tapping on
his front door. Considering that he lived on the third floor of a
building with main door security and a doorman who claimed he had
once shot someone, this put Sam on high alert. At that exact moment
Camille (Sam's enormous cat) barged her way in through the patio
doors and charged for the cat bowls at lightning speed. Sam carefully
spooned in dinner for her, making sure he didn't drop it on her head;
she was in the habit of getting in there as if there was a world crisis
and she had only three minutes to live so she better spend it eating
dinner. Sam waited a full ten minutes, and then he went to the door.
He carefully peeked through the spy hole. Nothing. Sam rolled away
from the door leaning against the wall. His heart hammered in his
temples. Who? Should he look? Maybe.... He had to know.
There was no one there. Perhaps it was his imagination? The
corridor was empty. He was alone. He went back inside; he shut and
bolted the door. The cat was waiting for him. She was staring at him
while standing foursquare on the rug. He sat in the chair, and she leapt
onto his knee and immediately started purring. Sam sighed and
stroked the cat. He was waiting, for what, he wasn’t sure. But
somehow waiting for this thing was the answer to many other
irreducible things. Juliet….. and Cheese Sandwiches. He felt vaguely
hungry. He thought of George and his hunger disappeared. George
knew the extent of Sam’s loss of control, the whys and wherefores and
the therefore and what ifs too. George was a good man, Sam decided,
if a rather conflicted one. There were some secrets that only George
knew. What if someone would make him tell? But George would
never tell; that Sam was sure of. There was something so strongly
implacable about his persona; something quite solid and honourable
beyond simple principles. Sam decided he needed to apologise to
George. He resolved to go and ring as soon as the cat decided to get
off his knees and dive for the cat crunchies to top herself up. He
stroked the cat some more, and the sharp pain of Juliet’s anger and
harsh words faded a little into a dull ache. He loved her. That he was
sure of now. And with that thought, came the thought that it would
soon be over and he would ache with a hollow hunger that his being
alone never gave him access to before. She was distant, confused and
confusing, and he could not make it better. Like a sunny day where
clouds gather and the pleasant little breezes seem to transmute into
petulant gusts that chill your back; his time with Juliet had begun to
cool into that perspective of distance where everything looks blue and
far away. He longed for her, and yet was helpless to do anything about
it.
At her house, Juliet was sleeping. She lay on the settee with a
blanket round her chest, to ward off the chill she felt. She was
dreaming. In her dream she was alone. For a long, long time. She
climbed up and up into mountains and saw amazing things. She built
her own house, and explored magical places. Sometimes she
interacted with people from a tribe who lived on the other side of the
river that gushed in her dream forest. It was warm and there were
bees. Big ones. They were like miniature furry mice, so stripy, so
golden. The scent of honey gave her hope. Then she remembered that
it was the smell of the heady flowers and she cried in her dream
because she was so lonely. But no one came, and no one saw her cry,
except the animals she saw. Pity, is a hard thing to have. Juliet woke
and had none for herself. Rather it was a cold contempt for the girl she
had once tried to leave behind. Because of this, her heart was trying to
compensate. She didn’t know that she needed Sam. She just saw
another burden on her already bewildered self and closed down all but
essential processes. Dreams. Who believes them anymore anyway?
She felt the chilly track of one cool salty tear. She blinked and ignored
it. These dreams were so real…. But of course they weren’t…. of
course not. But she felt that one night she would find herself inside
that reality unable to leave. It was an instinct that would save her
sanity in the not too distant future. Juliet was among many things a
practical person. So when there was a knock at the door, she very
practically got a heavy paper weight ready in her free hand before she
answered it.
There was a figure standing in an unthreatening way. She was a
young woman about Juliet’s build, height, age, body shape and hair
length. In fact, from a distance, in a dim light it might be possible to
mistake one person for the other if you didn’t know them that well.
This person radiated confidence and cheerfulness. Juliet was put out,
she expected something bad, and was faced with a social challenge
instead. Not a good thing to have to do. So what now?
The girl was peering at her through the crack in the door, (she still
had the chain fastened).
‘May I speak with you?’ the girl had a soft lilting voice. This for
some reason made Juliet feel suspicious.
‘Who are you?’ she heard her own voice and wished she could
make it sound more imposing. But the girl lowered her eyes before
speaking again, so it must have been more assertive than she actually
felt inside.
‘I’m Jade…. Jade Bergen. I know Sam. I mean, I met him the
other day.’
This wasn’t the best way for the girl to introduce herself; but
Juliet decided to keep an open mind. ‘Come in.’ she said abruptly, and
undid the chain on the door. They went to Juliet’s lounge. It was
untidy. If the reporter had known what Juliet was usually like she
would have been shocked. From the plate that hadn’t been cleared
away, to the pile of blankets on the settee, the overflowing ashtray,
and the messy basket of knitting wool with two large needles rammed
into it. Juliet picked a paperback off the nearest comfy chair and flung
in onto the low table where it slid along the surface and landed on the
floor. She made no move to pick it up, sitting down rather and picking
up a small tobacco tin. She motioned for the other girl to sit down.
Jade sat cautiously; perhaps she was already regretting her decision to
come and visit.
‘I was hoping you could help me,’ the girl Jade began, ‘I hope that
it is not inconvenient.’
‘It’s never a good time,’ said Juliet flatly, ‘but don’t let that bother
you. I’m hardly bowled over with work these days.’
‘I see.’ said Jade.
‘I should take some of these….’ she picked up a bottle from
among the debris, ‘Give me a minute.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Jade moved sideways in the chair. This wasn’t
the girl she had expected she would meet. This was a new version of
the person. A tormented version of the dear Juliet. Jade waited while
Juliet went to get a glass of water. She stared with a squirmy feeling
of discomfort at the room. Juliet returned, ‘So, to what do I owe this
impromptu visit? Has Sam put you up to this?’
‘Sam? No, not at all. I expect you are wondering why I came to
see you.’
‘Just a bit,’ Juliet started to make a roll up, carefully adding the
pieces of tobacco from the little tin on the table in front of her. She
looked up, ‘You can stop pretending to not notice. I know how it is…’
she gestured with one hand round the room, ‘I need to do a bloody
excavation on this place next. I could get someone in to clean. But
then they might just find a reason to say something to someone and
have me spirited away again. They are still watching me. Are you one
of them?’
‘No,’ Jade replied and seemed to be thinking about her next words
very carefully, ‘I am a reporter for the magazine ‘Rouge’; do you
know the one?’
‘I know of it, yes,’ said Juliet bringing the slim cigarette to her
lips and producing an equally slim lighter, ‘You write articles about
how great it is to be a woman. And all the models look as if they
haven’t eaten for at least a week.’
‘I’m on the reviews section. It’s a bit more life relevant than that.’
‘Books? The way you tell people why and how they should read
certain author’s work makes it sound like a lifestyle choice one just
has to make.’
‘You are right of course,’ said Jade, ‘that is what I do. But that is
not why I am here. My friend Elm is in trouble and I need to get a
message to the doctor.’
‘If he is sick take him to the hospital yourself.’ Juliet blew a light
stream of smoke upwards and outwards towards the centre of the
room.
‘I can’t, I need your help. You know the doctor who deals in
special cases of this sort.’
‘You mean George?’ and when the other didn’t say anything, ‘I
see. You want me to go to talk to him on your behalf? Is that it?’
‘Yes. I need to find out if he can be trusted.’
‘You want trust? That is a bit rich coming from someone who
prints lies for a living.’
‘Actually reviewing something is giving an educated opinion.’
‘Well at least I’m convinced that there may be some get out
clause. But humour me? If you needed to see him that badly, why not
just approach him yourself directly?’
‘Because I think that I am contaminated. It is possible that there
nothing I can do? So I look for the answer in the usual places. But
time is running out. I need to get my friend to safety to just be sure.’
‘You need a guarantee?’ Juliet stared at her very hard.
‘I do. I cannot risk this getting out of hand.’
‘You said you had met Sam. My Sam….’ Juliet turned away, then
back to Jade, ‘And you are a reporter. So how can I trust you?’
‘Trust me? I wouldn’t suggest you do. I am after a safe situation
for Elm.’
‘You want a safe house?’ Juliet shifted her position and her voice
became brighter, ‘Now why would you do that for a Man like this
Treacle?’
‘It isn’t Treacle.’
‘No shit!’ Juliet took another drag, ‘I can see that this will take
some doing. I can’t trust you. You can’t trust me. But still you came to
me. You wanted something so badly because you thought it worth the
risk. The risk outweighs….. wait a minute. No. That’s not it is it?
There was no risk for you. You just hung around for the sake of what
you could get out of it if Treacle dies?’
‘That’s….. it isn’t like that….’ Jade pulled a face and she seemed
to bunch herself up.
Juliet leaned forward, ‘Nerves are raw things when they’re
pressed aren’t they? I heard you can get hold of something to alleviate
that too?’
‘Yes, no…. maybe. What do you want?’
Juliet leaned back in the chair and relaxed as she finished the
smoke. Now she was in control. The other was eating out of her hand.
This was more like it. Experience they say is a good teacher, and now
Juliet had been experiencing first-hand the effects of one of the
experiments. She was the guinea pig, and she knew it. When they
came she did not know. But she needed an antidote to the thing that
had undermined her. It was not a drug that did this; she had been and
had every test know to her local GP and some. They said it was stress!
So now she needed a cocktail of the stuff that was like Treacle’s
confection. But instead of stabilising the rejection forces between the
body and the mind; a drug was needed that would let Juliet find her
own solution. She was in the grip of something she understood but
could not control. So she needed something to back her up.
‘I’ll tell you what I want.’ Juliet began, and pulled the ashtray
forward, ‘and then I will give you what you want.’
‘Very well,’ said the other, ‘You have got yourself a deal.’
Juliet regarded her for a moment, ‘Your powers of observation
must be trained right? So tell me Reporter Girl; where did I put my
lighter?’
In the most coincidental way possible, Sam at that very moment
was decided that it had all be a figment of his deranged imagination
when someone knocked on his door again. The phone. Ring George?
Not a good idea. Shit.... Camille looked up at him with a sense of
approaching trouble. She turned round twice and jumped down onto
the rug and then continued to stare at him until he went to his front
door. He stood there uncertain. ‘This is not a good time.’ he said to
Camille who was curling her tail round her toes. Sam turned and
peeked through the spy hole. There was a man there, very tall, dressed
in a long dark coat. Sam breathed in sharply. he looked a little like his
friend Jay. But it was the keen clarity of his eyes that gave that
impression, that and the way he stood perfectly still staring towards
the door as if he could see Sam looking at him.
Sam very carefully opened the door, ‘Hello?’
‘Good evening.’ said the other. His voice was softly enunciated,
almost a whisper. Sam blinked and then undid the chain and opened
the door. He was thinking of Jay again, and he could feel a rising
wave of disappointment that this person wasn't his dear friend.
‘Who are you?’ Sam felt the words strangulate in his throat.
‘I am from the future. I am sorry if you experience some
discomfort.’
‘The future?’
‘Yes. It is not normally allowed. But these are special
circumstances.’
‘Perhaps you ought to come inside.’
‘Only if you feel entirely comfortable.’
‘A bit late for that.’ Sam winced. He stepped back and indicated
that the man enter.
They went to Sam's kitchen. Sam automatically started to make a
mug of tea. He put another one out and glanced at the man who
nodded.
‘I am called Zachariah. But most people call me Zach.’ he lifted
the cup and sipped, ‘Here, I thought you might want to look at his.’ he
pushed a tag and chain across the table towards Sam. Sam gave him
an enquiring look.
‘It has my ID on it. Like most of the Sandglass tags.’
Sam picked it up and swung the two halves apart. There was the
name alright: Zachariah Lewis. And a small pattern that Sam did not
recognise.
‘Oh, that is a Travel profile. It helps a lot of people to get used to
their identity. I find that part of it quite interesting. But then I am from
out of time, so I cannot be affected by the distance from a point of
origin.’
‘You mean Sandglass?’
‘Yes. I am one of the friends who gather. But this part of time is
still wavering. We could have some serious alterations soon. We
might not be able to stop it.’
‘But why would you want to?’
‘I cannot tell you.’
‘A matter of trust?’
‘A matter of paradox.’ he drank the tea down, and put the cup
down carefully on the countertop.
‘So why come to see me?’
‘I don't know exactly. Your friends were a little clearer than I am
myself. But I think it has to do with the fact that now I am here the
memories I have start to be affected. It is not permanent. But to
retrieve what is lost I would have to go back to the future. We are in a
time that cannot be defined in terms of seasons of the time stream.
You understand? You can change it at any moment. I am not as
involved because I am from the future, but I still find myself
interacting with the people here and little things start to change like a
cascade of dominoes.’
‘But you must have some idea? What is the last thing that gave
you some indication that things might not be as you think they ought
to be?’
‘You. You gave me that indication. It was you Sam.’
‘But, but......’ Sam gripped his cup a little too tightly, ‘But that
means I.....’ the cup suddenly shattered. There was a silence that
echoed on and on.
Zach spoke softly again, ‘My presence here is a risk. It could
cause all kinds of minor fractures in the continuum. But I need you to
do something for me. In this present, there is only one other person
who has as much time stability as you. But he is not here.’
‘You mean Jay? Is that who you mean? Is he there? In the future I
mean.’
Instead of answering Zach lifted the sack onto the countertop. He
had been carrying and had put it down when he came in the kitchen.
Yet somehow Sam had not noticed it before now. He undid the knot
that held the top together. he pulled out a second smaller cotton bag.
Out of this he drew a belt. It was made of metal in jointed plates.
There were bulging pieces where the power packs went. On the end a
large buckle clip with a catch to cover it up, underneath which Sam
knew there was a large button that activated it.
‘I am instructed to give this to you, and only you. I apologise for
the manner of my arrival. I did not wish to cause you more distress.’
‘I err....’ Sam was thinking of all the questions he wanted
answering. About his life in general, about his friend Jay who he
seemed to miss far more than was reasonable, and about Juliet. He
must know about Juliet!
‘Please tell me something about the future. Just so I know you are
on the level here. And what do you want me to do with the travel
belt?'
‘Why Mr Wright! You're to use it of course! I thought that was
obvious?’
‘Yes, but use it to go where?’
‘That is....well, let me say that there are several different answers
to the same question. In different versions you are doing different
things. But not every version is visible.’
‘What do you mean by visible?’
‘We can detect it. The science exists to pin point your exact
location. But it only works if you are in a near parallel. Too far from
the current course and we cannot see.’
‘So I must interact with a possible future in order to bring about
the best outcome?’
‘Indeed. The belt allows you to undo a version. To go back to a
point. The key is to choose a point. We think that occurs tomorrow
morning. At about Eleven o'clock.’ Zach looked at his watch, ‘elapse
time Mr Wright. I have to keep it to a minimum.’
‘But you drank tea. You have interacted with me.’
‘Yes. But outside the safe margin of the diverging event line. I
must leave by Ten Thirty, just to be clear of none involvement.’
‘But you are telling me.... something is going to happen. Will it
change the direction of events?’
‘Certainly. For you; absolutely. But you must keep your head Mr
Wright. Stay as calm as possible. It is the only way to be of help in the
circumstances.’
George and Kyle were getting along famously. That is if you
conclude that all of what they knew was getting in the way of the most
important thing of all: good instincts. It was amazing what a packet of
colourful markers could do for the soothing of George’s mood. But
now and then instincts are the best way to unravel things. After the
next cup of tea Kyle began to get a funny feeling. Fortunately George
was used to such things and didn’t dismiss it as rabid nonsense.
‘It looks very pretty; but there is something missing.’ said Kyle.
‘Sam Parker’s file?’ George drummed his fingers on the edge of
the table, ‘a second one?’
‘Maybe. The Zebra file has a lot of information on how to cook up
a clone. It’s a kind off recipe book. It is a bit like the fax, except that
is a recipe for a machine and all its home comforts.’
‘Mmm….’ George looked as if he was trying to add two really big
numbers together, ‘if that does exist then it will tally with what we
already know.’
‘And what is that?’
‘Illegal research using human tissue samples.’
‘Yes; and what does that tell us?’
‘It was kept really quiet?’ Kyle shook his head.
‘Yes. No. I mean that’s a given. But they needed the tissue
samples…. And what do you need if you are going to cook a good
cake?’
‘Quality ingredients?’ Kyle seemed startled as he said this.
‘Indeed you do. The question is: whose? Is this Treacle just a
Henry clone. Is Treacle actually real?’
‘That would be hard to say,’ Kyle flipped open his notebook,
‘because there are too many things that they could have changed. Too
many records on the net that have been altered in some way. It must
have been very important to someone to preserve that secret….
whatever it was.’
‘The secret?’
‘Of Henry’s whereabouts…. I mean Treacle’s.’
‘I think that we possibly might only find the truth about Treacle if
we go back in time to school history.’ George frowned, ‘But
considering our last foray into a place of learning, I think it best if we
leave that for now.’
‘So you suggest what?’
‘The reporter. She knows a lot more than just what is happening
to Treacle’s clone…. I mean Henry’s…. this is getting really
confusing. You’ve got me at it now.’
‘We spy on the reporter?’ Kyle folded his arms.
‘Not exactly. Come on, we need to smarten ourselves up a bit.’
Kyle stood up, ‘So where’s the party?’
George just smiled, ‘Smart but casual.’
‘Are you carrying?’
‘Yes. And give me an ear piece.’
‘You betcha big guy. Let’s go.’
Sam stirred a small pan; baked beans. They always seemed to help
the situation, however awful it got. There were always the simple
things that made all the other things dip into forgetfulness for a while.
He wished he could wipe it clean. Now, when he was doubtful of all
the pieces on the board another piece had introduced himself. George
surely ought to know this. But he didn’t ring George, he mused in a
guilty was about his insult to Kyle. And then shrugged, ‘Daft bugger
had it coming….’ Sam had endured Kyle’s abrupt condescension on
many occasions. He stirred the beans again and then lifted them off
the hob. In the sitting room he flicked on the TV some news report
about some guy. Something Kyle had been casually following. He
changed the channel; that was more like it: a sci-fi story. Nice and
mysterious, and slightly cheesy in a B-movie type way.
He was just getting to a good bit, when his mobile rang. Thinking
it must be George he was about to let it go to voice mail, when he
realised it was in fact Juliet. She did not usually ring him on the
mobile, generally because he coincidentally seemed to have it out of
power of in his coat pocket when she had done so before. He grabbed
it just before it buzzed its way off the smooth table top.
‘Juliet!’ he gasped in a very breathy way, ‘Are you alright?’
‘Hello Sam,’ she said evenly, ‘I hope that I wasn’t interrupting
anything.’
‘No. of course not. I’m at home.’
‘You are?’ she sounded upbeat all of a sudden but then added,
‘Well I suppose it had to happen sometime.’
‘Do you want me to come over?’
‘No. I mean it’s alright. I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Yeah, uh…. Okay. Can I get you morning coffee and a cream
cake?’
‘You know I don’t eat sweets.’
‘Sorry. I forgot.’
‘That’s okay. Usual place?’
‘Definitely.’ Sam paused, at a loss for what to say next, ‘I’ll see
you there then…. Ten o’clock?’
‘Ten,’ Juliet repeated, then sighed, ‘I guess I better tidy up now.’
Sam heard the shuffling of objects that might have been Juliet
gathering her mug collection together.
‘See ya.’ said Sam with a cheery tone.
‘Yeah….’ Juliet sighed then laughed, ‘No, really. I will tidy up a
bit. Then you can come for tea. If you’d like?’
‘Yes please.’ said Sam softly, then added, ‘I’ll get a bottle of good
red…. a Merlot, okay?’
‘Yes. Lovely. Okay then…..tomorrow. I'll see you tomorrow.’
‘Okay Juliet. I’ll look forward to it.’
‘Right. Yes. Bye.’ she rang off. Sam returned the phone to the
coffee table and stared at it. She was okay, he decided. That meant
they were okay. At least for the moment. He breathed out. Just as he
did so the house phone rang in his hall way. He pushed himself to his
feet. He heard the answering machine begin to take the call as he
reached it. George. Sam picked up the handset but didn't say anything.
‘Get your backside back here.’ George said, ‘I need you.’ and then
he rang off. Sam returned the handset to the cradle. he paused, turned
and then went to get his coat.
When he got to George's house Sam didn't get chance to take his
coat off again. George was in the hall with a small rucksack and
concentrated expression on his face.
‘We are going to the source. Again. And I need you to help me
break in.’
‘What? I mean why?’
‘There is something I need to check. In a manner of speaking.
Narrow something down to one thing. If I'm right we'll know by what
isn't there.’
‘Okay.’ Sam pulled on his zipper.
‘Kyle is staying here. He is better being back at base.’
‘Fine.’ Sam followed George to the Range Rover.
As they set off Sam shrunk down in the seat.
‘Sorry about the late call.’ said George, ‘But there's nothing else
we can do until we find out what it is that Samantha Parker knows.’
‘That is not possible.’ Sam stared ahead.
‘Well, one step at a time. But I think that we are looking at the
source of industrial espionage. This is about the techniques used in
certain combat situations. A way of storing information so it is not
accessible; not even to the person carrying it. There are ways of
making someone behave like a memory stick. But there are other
ways of releasing the information. If you know the trigger, you can
find the information. You can retrieve it safely. And the subject: the
person carrying it does not have to suffer a mental block of a fatal
kind.’
‘What?’
‘Yes,’ mused George as they turned into the ring road, ‘I need
you, because I need Kyle working at optimum operating strength. His
feelings for the intriguing Ms Parker may at some point cloud his
judgement. Since we are going to break into her house and poke
around in all her drawers there is every chance that Kyle might be err,
distracted and start getting all fuzzy.’
‘Fuzzy Felt.’ said Sam sullenly.
‘A suitable analogy.’ George turned into the road that led to
Parker’s house. He slowed to find a space to part that was obscured by
trees. They got out.
‘Do you think that anyone will be watching?’ Sam seemed a little
more animated.
‘Undoubtedly. That is why we are going in from the next doors
garden.’
‘Oh?’
‘On holiday.’ said George, ‘I got Kyle to find their alarm system’s
central control. He can disable it for ten minutes at a time.’
‘He can?’
‘Yes. Now put this mask on.’
‘Why?’
‘We don’t want anyone to see your ugly mug.’ George reached
behind the seat and pulled out a small rucksack.
‘Fine. I see where this is going. But for heaven’s sake can I please
know what it is we are actually looking for?’
‘Evidence.’ said George.
‘Evidence of what?’
‘Samantha’s point of origin.’
‘Her….what?’ Sam slid onto the pavement and George came
round to the side of the car.
‘Listen,’ George hissed and handed Sam a torch, ‘there is nothing
I can say that can explain this quickly. So you need to take it as read
that the fascinating Ms Parker might very well be the very thing we
are looking for. She might be the evidence. She is not as old as she
ought to be. In fact she is, beyond the limits of some very effective
face cream, good genetics and healthy living; quite, quite impossible.’
‘Well, if you put it like that…’
‘I do. Now shut up.’ George led them round to the thick hedge
that obscured them from sight.
They let themselves into Samantha Parker’s house. George, who
was naturally careful, led the way. Kyle whispered in his ear.
‘We need to avoid the hall.’ George mouthed to Sam.
They slid round to the untidy room in which Parker kept her
personal documents. George checked that the curtains were shut and
then clicked on the desk lamp, ‘Blackout blinds.’ he said to Sam.
They carefully searched through the items in the room. Sam found
a pile of magazines stacked in the corner next to filing cabinet. They
were a popular monthly science publication. On the desk were some
others. They found that they were all there, more or less in date order.
‘Which is the latest one?’
‘Err…. June.’
‘Interesting.’ George felt around in a drawer, ‘we need July.’
‘Not here.’
‘Very interesting. This is popular stuff. A woman of her calibre
reading this is not totally odd. But I consider it unusual that she would
have every single copy going back to…. when?’
‘Just a minute. Counting. Wait. Yes, it is going back four years.’
Sam straightened, ‘Do you think…?’
‘I’ll get Kyle to check.’
‘When she moved in?’
‘Exactly.’ George grinned and checked in another drawer, ‘I do so
love it when you are in tune.’
‘When am I not?’ Sam said and felt round the underside of the
desk. Something clicked, ‘What the….?’ there was nothing inside the
little drawer except a pencil and a rubber and a few elastic bands.
‘Weird.’ said George.
‘Perhaps.’ Sam got down on the floor and looked underneath the
drawer, ‘there’s something here.’
‘Can you read it?’
‘Very tiny writing. It’s sellotaped to the bottom of the drawer.’
George handed his tiny digital camera to Sam, ‘You got it?’
‘Yeah. Just a second.’ he moved around. There was a brief burst
of the flash.
‘Just one more.’ said George, ‘I think we might need to move.’
There was a movement of shadow outside the window.
‘Done.’ Sam scrambled to his feet, then, ‘Oh shit!’
They both crouched down as the beam of a torch slid upwards
through the tiny slit of the curtains.
‘I thought you shut them?’ Sam tried not to sound to annoyed
which was difficult to do when bent double and whispering.
‘It must have moved.’ George started to slither towards the door.
‘There is someone here.’ Sam followed cautiously.
‘That is why we need to not be as quickly as possible.. Kyle?’
George paused listening, ‘we’ve got three minutes.’ he added.
‘Three?’
‘Come on.’
They swiftly worked the route in reverse.
A strong hand clamped over Sam’s mouth and he was pulled
backwards. George had the sense to not react or cry out.
‘You’re nicked.’ the grip of the man shifted and Sam twisted out
of his grip and was doing a fair impression of being in charge until he
saw the man’s face.
‘Bloody hell!’ Sam tried hard not to sound too shocked, ‘What are
you doing here?’
‘Excuse me.’ said the other pushing Sam’s arm back easily, ‘But
what are You doing here?’
‘And this is?’ George was impassive.
‘The law. But you better keep still. There’s something criminal
afoot tonight. Just stay here!’ and with that stern warning he went
round the bushes to the front of the house. There was hissing whisper
of a conversation, then a pause. George and Sam stayed still and
waited, neither daring to speak. George rolled his eyes at Sam, and
they began to edge slowly to their right. George stopped and swore
under his breath. There was another person crouched in the shadows.
‘Who is that?’ George said softly.
‘PC Green.’ said Sam breathily, ‘he is on our side.’
‘I didn’t realised I’d joined the force.’ said George still with a
breathy sound.
‘Evening all.’ said Green, who had just strolled round the side of
the bushes again. Sam took one look and gave the thumbs up to
George.
‘I can keep them off your trail,’ Bobby Green rocked back on his
heels, ‘That is if you want me to?’
Sam looked at George, who shrugged. Sam nodded perplexed. PC
Green turned away, and walked towards the other crouched in the
shadows.
‘No! Wait!’ Sam exclaimed as loudly as he dared. Bobby half
turned, smiled, and then continued. Sam blinked, rubbed his eyes,
‘What the....?’ he glanced at George who was staring intently into the
shadows. George moved nearer to Sam and then peered round the
hedge. ‘The inspector's young minions appear to have called it a
night.’
‘Crumbs,’ said Sam, ‘Good job too. Where's the car?’
‘Not far. Come on.’
They scrambled across the corner of the now deserted front
garden. Sam and George reached the car and locked the doors as soon
as they were in.
‘Now tell me what the hell all that was about?’ George rounded
on Sam.
‘I....I honestly don't know.’
‘Really?’ George was irritated. Sam could see that he better get
any and all information out quickly before George decided to grill him
properly.
‘He's here because he's a Psychic. The Inspector is calling on his
skills for a quick resolution of the murder of the old woman.’
‘She wasn't that old,’ said George, ‘Primula Jenson was FiftySix.’
‘Oh.’
‘Look,’ said George after and uncomfortable silence lasting
several seconds, ‘I know you think that it is your thing to go out on
your own; but we are a team. And you can cut the crap about earlier; I
know you have something on your mind.’
‘Primula might be a spy after all.’ said Sam.
‘Yes. Well, I wasn't really thinking about that. Perhaps you feel
you cannot tell me; but trust me it would be better if you did.’
‘Not this George, I'm sorry.’
‘Very well,’ George put the key in the ignition, ‘But it better be
good when you do the reveal. It better be the best yet.’
‘I guarantee that.’ Sam fastened his seat belt, ‘Safety first.’
Kyle was still up when they both got back. He was nursing a hot
chocolate and looking really pissed off: ‘Why didn’t you answer the
phone? I called three times.’
‘It didn’t ring.’ George replied, ‘Not even the third time.’
‘Yes, well,’ Kyle sniffed in a dismissive way, ‘You can get me
some more donuts tomorrow for that. I need a little ten minutes
George. I have the phone records for the mobile we picked up. It is
unregistered. But we expected that. However, there is something to be
said for the number of times someone calls a specific number….’
‘Go on.’ Said George and put his metal framed glasses on, ‘I
really need a stiff drink, but tell me the bad news.’
‘Not bad. Just odd. It is as if all the phones…. Are clones…. They
are the same as phones owned by, get this: professors in the
University here in London. It is really crazy. They we sent to find us
George. They knew we would be up in Yorkshire they had even
known when. It’s crazy and weird. Don’t you think it’s getting a little
out of hand?’
‘Maybe,’ George rubbed his temples with one finger. Sam smiled
slightly and went into the kitchen, leaving the two alone in the big
sitting room.
‘What’s up with him?’ Kyle looked irritated. Much of that was to
do with the late hour as well as the thought that Sam might be in a bad
mood at a moment’s notice. Kyle needed to stay calm so he could
keep all the information in the air so to speak. It was hard to
remember everything at once, and he didn’t like to let George know
he was struggling.
‘Get some sleep.’ George said suddenly, ‘I’ll do breakfast. We
will need to go back to the Historical Soc. tomorrow.’
‘Oh?’
‘A Gentleman of our acquaintance is going to let us borrow a time
machine.’
‘Borrow?’
‘Temporarily discombobulate.’
‘Jolly good.’ Kyle grinned at him, ‘Do we anticipate the company
of a Lady?’
‘Indeed we do. So make sure you get up early and have a shower.’
‘Yes Boss.’ Kyle ambled out of the room, much to Sam’s
annoyance. He had just come in with a tray and three cups of tea.
‘Great,’ George took a large swig, ‘I’ll have both of those. Now
let’s look at what we’ve got.’
‘It’s late George. I need some sleep.’
‘In Ten minutes.’ George glared at him and then his expression
smoothed out again a second later.
‘Alright,’ Sam sighed, ‘so we know that Parker was getting a
science magazine every month…’
‘And…?’
‘She was a hoarder; but only with respect to her special interests.’
‘Go on…’
‘And she had something to hide….’
‘Getting warm.’
‘And there was something inside a magazine.’
‘Warmer…’
‘We look for the one that was missing.’
‘Cold as ice. It’s not that one, the July edition of the science mag.
We are looking at this all backwards. Think about Juliet. What do they
have in common?’
‘Err……’
‘Come on Sam! I thought you were bright?’
‘Yes, when I’m not tired, unhappy, and getting hungry.’
‘How can you think of food at a time like this?’
‘At a time like what? I need to eat something. I feel all funny you
know.’
‘Ha, ha! But get it Sam…. do you see?’
‘Maybe…. She did like reading the science journal, but that
wasn’t the one was it?’
‘Of course not. Too obvious. Way too obvious. It must be
something that she was interested in, but not something too out of the
ordinary.’
‘Another magazine?’
‘Knitting.’
‘What?’
‘Knitting.’ George repeated, ‘She kept a basket in the corner with
balls of wool in it, and several sets of needles.’
‘Do you think there is a connection? Between that and the
disappearance?’
‘Definitely. But we know where she is. She went to the one place
that CCTV cannot follow.’
‘The Historical archive.’
‘Bingo!’ George pulled the top off a marker pen. He swept a line
across the paper. It was to be the greatest triumph of his career.
*****
Chapter Ten
Once More with Feeling.
Morning. The crashing down of the night. The inconsistent
daylight meandered into George’s kitchen and saluted the pots and
pans hung so pristine and bright. George with sleeves rolled up stared
at Sam, who in turn was staring at Kyle; who was looking at the small
laptop. He groaned, ‘Bugger.’
‘There is always pie night to look forward to.’ Sam said
philosophically.
‘Look. I have got the files. I have got the passwords. You think
it’s my job to actually make sense of the things as well?’
‘Henry’s file, is it in some sort of code?’ Sam asked.
‘No. it’s nothing like that. I just don’t understand a word it’s
saying.’ Kyle turned the machine round so the other two could see it.
‘Okay,’ George said in a decisive tone, ‘Print out what you’ve
found and I’ll give it a quick scan through after breakfast.’
Kyle looked like he was grinding his teeth, ‘It is a hundred a fifty
pages long. Do you really think you can read all that?’
‘No. Well get me a PDF instead. Transfer it to my reader. I’ll take
it with me.’
‘Thanks,’ said Sam as George set a plate down in front of him,
‘I’ll have to go see Juliet this morning. Can you phone me when
you’re ready?’
‘You be back here at One sharp.’ George said, ‘No messing.’
‘How long will it take? I mean, I promised Juliet I’d go round
later…. for tea.’
‘Look,’ George put the last plate down, ‘We are investigating
something that could prove to be the undoing of this part of the time
line as we know it and you are wondering if being late for Juliet’s
evening treat will severely jeopardize things in an adverse way?’
‘Yes.’
‘You are…..I won’t wait if you’re late.’
‘You said you needed me.’
‘Not that much,’ George retorted, ‘I’ll have to rely of my usual
sidekick.’
‘You mean me?’ Kyle squeaked, ‘I say….’
‘Shut up.’ George said irritably.
‘Well…. I’ll make sure I’m back then.’ Sam picked up his fork.
George sat down a stabbed a mushroom purposefully. He looked
up at Sam over his glasses.
‘I’ll be back at Twelve.’ Sam said and jabbed his fork into a
sausage.
Sam knocked on Juliet’s door. Ten-Twenty. He had waited at the
café, but impatient for time with Juliet he had walked quickly the
short distance to her street. He rapped and knocked on her door.
Silence. Odd. Maybe they had missed each other. He went back round
the path and circled round the side of the house. There was a set of
rose bushes and a small neat patio with some tidy garden furniture. He
pushed open the small gate. He shook his head. Some instinct,
something odd about the sound, or lack of it made his stomach
contract.
‘Juliet?’
Nothing. He licked his lips and tried again; but the words stuck in
his mouth the door was slightly open and the gauzy curtain moved
through the gap in a way that Juliet would have corrected
immediately. Someone had broke in? Someone was still here. He
stepped forward and carefully swung the door to one side. He called
her name again.
Inside: it was untidy. There were pots waiting to be washed. There
was a set of mugs in the middle of the kitchen table and a TV paper
from a week ago. Sam began to get a queasy feeling. He went into the
big front room. He saw the debris and mess, and momentarily thought
that someone had robbed the place. But no, it was not that. A swelling
wave of pity tightened his throat. He felt guilty he had not seen it. He
would make it better. He promised himself he would tell her all that
had been on his mind. He would hold her in his arms and tell her it
was alright….. a slight sound. He turned suddenly. The cat from next
door had wandered in; it jumped up on the settee and began licking
the remains of sauce from out of a soup bowl that had been left there.
Sam lifted the cat down and it trotted back into the kitchen then round
to the bottom of the stairs.
‘Juliet….’ his voice was hissing with that tight feeling. He went
up the stairs.
Juliet lay on top of the quilt. She was curled on her right side. He
went to her. She was asleep. He sighed with relief. ‘Juliet! I’m here.’
He shook her gently, ‘It’s alright. I understand. Let’s just go for a little
walk. By the river. The café is nicer there. Great sandwiches……
Juliet?’ He bent over her. She wasn’t waking. Her breath slow, and
shallow. He bent near and brushed her hair away from her face.
‘Oh no. Oh no…..’ he found the bottle on the little table by the
side of the bed.
Sam was pacing up and down in the kitchen. The doctor came
back down.
‘Well?!’
‘Mr Wright, Your Lady friend Ms Penn is not the victim of an
overdose.’
‘Oh! Thank God! Can I see her now?’
‘No. Mr Wright. The crew will bring her down in a minute.’
‘But….but she must be alright? Tell me what’s happening?’
The doctor laid a hand on Sam’s arm, ‘I will be able to tell more
up at the hospital. Don’t worry. Things are stable. There’s no more to
be said for the moment. Not at this stage. As soon as I can tell you
anything I will.’
‘Thanks Doc.’ said Sam and sat down rather suddenly on one of
Juliet’s kitchen chairs.
George and Kyle (with his rucksack on his knee as usual) sat in
the waiting room. Gina joined them, ‘Good God!’ she exclaimed as
she sat down, ‘What on earth made her do that?’
‘It isn’t what you think.’ George said. They all turned as Sam
came through the nearby double doors and slumped rather awkwardly
in the chair opposite them. They all looked at each other. Gina spoke
first: ‘I’ll go sit with her. Alright Sam?’
Sam nodded dumbly. Gina gathered herself up and swept through
to the nurses’ station.
‘Fuck.’ said Kyle.
Sam stared at him, ‘Exactly right.’ Then turned and stared at the
table top again. A few minutes later Gina returned minus voluminous
bag. ‘Look boys, I think I will be more use here. Are we up to speed
George? I’ll work the problem with a pen and paper. I’ll phone if
there’s any change.’
‘Yes,’ George seemed deeply thoughtful, ‘You will do the most
useful thing by staying here. I think it is time to pay our Mr Stone
another visit.’
‘Who?’ asked Kyle.
‘Mr Gary Stone, at the Historical Preservation Society; don’t you
remember?’
‘No.’ Kyle hugged his rucksack even tighter.
‘Well just let us know if there’s anything on the Arc file;
Drucker’s Time Travel research; or the decoding of the Zebra file.’
‘How did you….?’
‘Know?’ George raised an eyebrow, ‘Russian dolls Kyle, Russian
dolls. Onions, layers….. I believe.’
‘Yes of course.’ said Kyle and seemed to sit up straighter.
‘Come on.’ George stood and looked hard at Sam. Kyle shook his
head, George put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and nodded. Sam raised
his eyes and stared at them solemnly.
‘You can’t…’ Kyle began.
‘I bloody well can,’ said George, ‘so get back to Base and do your
thing. If I find the back door of the Society I’ll call you.’
‘What the…?’ Kyle grimaced.
‘Staff entrance. Shouldn’t be too freaky.’
‘But how will you get in?’ Kyle stood too.
‘Pickles.’ said George, ‘I have rediscovered a taste for them. And
see if you can get hold of the Reporter for me. Something is wrong
there. She should have been at the Gallery.’
‘I was looking forward to the grub.’ Kyle grumbled.
‘Stop thinking with your stomach and get to work. One hour. I
need results.’
‘I do what I can. But George, what do you want the most? It’s
quite a shopping list.’
‘Reporter whereabouts; Zebra file; Arc file; Joseph Drucker….. or
maybe put in the news reports on the old amnesiac above Drucker…..
he could be important.’
‘What if it’s a red herring?’
‘Then put Drucker right to the top of the list. He is connected
somehow….. it’s the entry in the diary. Too pat, too neat. Arc was
never about making a bright future…. It was all about changing
something…’
Sam turned with his lips parted but didn’t say anything.
‘Yes,’ continued George, ‘a future; that is what they were going to
make it…. a new super race perhaps, eugenics with attitude? Perhaps.
Totally immoral… definitely. And see if you can get anything on the
Primula Jensen murder. Notes from the scene, that sort of thing.’
‘And where do you want me to put that on the list?’
‘Oh…. at the end. Or do it if you get stuck on anything else. Tea
break job Kyle?’
‘Yeah…. Right.’ Kyle slung his ruck sack on his back, ‘And what
about him?’ he indicated Sam.
‘I need a co-pilot.’ George said.
‘This is insane.’ Kyle muttered.
George grinned at him, ‘Of course.’
Sam just followed, head bowed, still too shocked by what had
happened to Juliet to say much at all.
They let themselves in with the minimum of fuss and this time the
entrance hall to the Historical Preservation Society seemed quite
homely.
‘I don’t like the Pickles.’ Sam said.
‘It was just a small gherkin.’
‘They taste metallic.’
‘They are very special pickles.’ George concluded, ‘So I suppose
they have a right to taste any way they want.’
‘What are we going to do with this Time Machine?’
‘Fly it.’
‘But it’s a Time Machine.’
‘It was a figure of speech.’
‘And what about Parker?’
‘Knitting. Ask her about knitting. I’m sure she will remember
something telling.’
They came to a junction of two corridors. They turned right and
continued. George led them through the maze, but he was frowning.
‘’What’s up?’
‘This cannot be right.’ George stopped and turned round and came
to a standstill, ‘I mean, where is everyone?’
‘The place appears to be deserted.’ Sam remarked.
‘You have a talent for overstated the obvious. But why is it?’
George had a worried look now, ‘I am getting a funny feeling on the
back of my neck.’
‘It looks like your funny feeling is about to grow two heads.’ he
pointed.
Two people came towards them on the corridor. They seemed a
little hesitant.
‘Mr Carter?’ said one.
‘Mr Wright?’ said the other.
‘He is expecting you.’ said the first, ‘both of you.’
‘Better not keep the Boss waiting.’ George kept it light, but Sam
glanced at him, conveying as much as possible in one millisecond.
They followed the two men. George put his hand inside his jacket.
Sam shook his head. George just stared but put his hand back down by
his side. They seemed to be climbing up and up. A door opened. And
they were ushered inside.
The room was quite dark, and lit by a few lamps high up on the
walls. The effect was something like an ancient castle. Dark walls
loomed.
‘Good afternoon.’ said George in a friendly even tone.
A figure leaned forward scrutinising the two of them. There were
others in the room in the shadows. The men who had brought them in
hovered uncertainly by the door. Sam half turned, ‘Tell your Boss
thanks, we got the message.’
‘Uh?’ one of them looked frightened.
‘Just go!’ the man in the chair stood and stepped into the light.
Sam nodded at the nervous man. The two of them left closing the door
behind him.
George seemed unmoved by this development. Sam edged nearer
to him, ‘Tell me when I ought to get him in a neck lock.’
‘No need for that.’ said George.
‘No need at all.’ said the one who stood facing them, ‘You have a
rare talent Mr Carter. Clearly your friend does not entirely share it.’
‘Mmm….It is simply a matter of practise. I would suppose that if
you really wanted to test me you would do something a little more….
Err dramatic.’
‘Ah!’ said the man, ‘You want snow and ice? Do we need to scare
you Mr Carter?’
‘Who are you?’ said Sam with a hiss.
‘Mr Wright? I see that you on the other hand have yet to master
the skill of seeing through a perception filter.’
‘I…what?’
The man stepped forward and stood in front of George, ‘You are
not as stuffy as they said.’ The voice shimmered and changed and
there in front of them stood a tall woman with dark hair.
‘Good God!’ said Sam.
‘Indeed,’ George remarked, ‘you cannot always tell those apart.
Best to keep your hands to yourself in those circumstances.’
Sam frowned as it looked like George and the tall woman were
amused.
‘I’m sorry. The staff are not always terribly compliant. Mr Stone
will be along presently I imagine, since you alerted him.’
‘Yes.’ said Sam.
‘Are we alone?’ asked George.
‘Judge for yourself.’ she raised her hand and the dark walls faded
like smoke to reveal a modern bright room.
Sam glared at George, ‘So what is this… this person doing here?’
‘I think it’s time to tell us what happened to Samantha Parker.’
said George to the woman.
‘You look like the housekeeper.’ Sam said.
‘Yes, of course I do.’ she answered, ‘I have been watching
Samantha for a long time. But now I have to switch my attention to
my missing colleague Joseph. You understand why?’
‘I think so.’ George said, ‘It must have been Drucker that got Miss
Parker in the mess she’s in in the first place?’
‘I wouldn’t quite put it like that….’
‘You are Primula Jensen?’ Sam said suddenly,
‘We need to get to Samantha’s Time Machine.’ said George
ignoring Sam’s look of annoyance, ‘We mustn’t let her go to find
Drucker.’
‘Why would she do that?’ Primula asked, ‘we are aware that
Joseph still has some contact with Samantha; but it isn’t what you’d
call a close relationship.’
‘Just a minute,’ said George, ‘are you the one who trashed my fax
machine? No don’t answer that….’
All three of them had their mouths open in surprize a moment
later when a small entourage marched in.
First came the nervous staff member, followed by Gary Stone and
then two of the three thugs that George and Kyle had dodged in
Sheffield.
‘I’m guessing that a cup of tea is not being offered here.’ George
had a complicated expression as he said this. Sam glanced at him.
They were out of their depth and sinking.
‘She’s a clone.’ mouthed Sam.
‘I know.’ said George, ‘Do you think it’s time for your particular
brand of Kung Fu?’
‘Fucked if I know George.’ said Sam, ‘Perhaps something
simpler?’ with that he kicked the first guy and punched him in the gut.
There was a violent thirty seconds of confusion in which George and
Sam extricated themselves and were pelting down the corridor.
‘It did not occur to me that they might be using another disguise
underneath the first one!’ George panted as they rounded a corner.
‘Shit George!’ Sam grunted, ‘I didn’t know you were so stupid?
What is it with you and brunettes?’
‘We do know one thing though; this place is not a safe place to be.
Where do you think Samantha will be?’
‘In Stone’s apartment I would assume. I bet that the real Mr Stone
is hiding somewhere. There must be other doors out of this place.’
They slowed and slid sideways through a set of doors and then
into a little upstairs gallery.
‘I think I know where we are.’ said George.
‘Good. So find an exit.’
‘I think there’s someone coming.’ George ducked into a small
wood panelled door. They pressed it shut behind them and tried not to
breathe too loudly. Boot steps passed on the other side and slowed.
Then, after a pause moved away again. They both turned to see the
London skyline through a big picture window. It was Sam that moved
first, walking forward to examine the glass topped coffee table and the
comfortable chairs.
‘This is Mr Stone’s lounge. So where is he?’
‘I don’t know. But I think we are safe here.’ George pointed. They
both saw the doorway disappear into the wall behind, as if it had
melted.
‘But how do we get out?’ Sam asked.
‘I’m sure there are back doors to everywhere from here. I suppose
the only reason we got in is because he wanted us to. If that is the case
there must be something here for us. Search the room Sam. There has
to be a message or something we need to advance our quest.’
‘I think Kyle is right,’ said Sam and he started to systematically
move through the room, ‘you really do need to lay off the fantasy
fiction.’
‘I thought it was myths and legends that you disapproved of?’
‘No. I don’t disapprove of anything George. You think I do ‘cos
you spend so much time having your favourites trashed by Kyle.’
‘Fair comment.’
‘I have my own opinions.’ Sam grimaced and bent down to look
under the settee, ‘However, I choose to keep them in the place least
able to be hacked.’
‘Naturally.’ said George, ‘You are reliably tight on information.
That’s why we’re friends.’
‘And I thought it was my charm and intelligent insight?’
‘That as well…. Ah ha! I think I have something.’
‘A fish tank?’
‘What is in the fish tank.’
‘A fish?’
‘No. An object of equal worth my friend. And here is a helpful
mini fish net.’
George leaned over and slowly lowered the little net into the
water. He scooped the long brass coloured miniature cannon out of the
tank. Sam got a wodge of tissue from out of the box on a nearby table.
‘There’s something inside.’ said Sam.
‘I guess it’s our passport.’
‘It’s a key. I can see it through that tiny grill under the base.’
‘Well get it out then.’
‘It’s a puzzle. I don’t know how to do this one.’
‘Give it here!’ George took it off him and with a few deft moves
undid the little figure.
‘You cheated.’
‘Did not! I had a box just like it when I was a kid. I hid stuff there
so my sisters wouldn’t find it.’
‘I cannot imagine you as a kid.’
‘That’s funny, some people cannot imagine that I am now an
adult.’
‘Now that I do believe!’
George’s eyes narrowed and he twisted the key round in his
fingers. He turned and carefully replace the little brass cannon in the
fish tank. He dried the little net and leaned it against a glass jug on the
nearby shelf.
They continued through the apartment into another room. This
was again furnished comfortably and had a bar with drinks at one end.
They searched and went on to the next room. This was smaller. A
little like a dressing room. And so they continued. There was a small
internal corridor and several doors leading off it.
‘Have you noticed that there is no perception filter in here?’
‘I guess.’ said Sam, ‘Are these bedrooms?’
‘Well here’s the bathroom.’ said George peering in through
another door.
‘Ah…. and here is a guest room.’ Sam stood aside so that George
could have a really good look. He went in.
‘A lady was here.’ George sniffed.
‘Perfume.’
‘A specific type. Do you know what it is?’
‘I think….. could be something by Calvin Klein.’
‘Who wears that?’
‘I err…. Don’t know.’
They both turned and saw another person coming through the
door to the end.
‘Hello,’ she said.
‘Parker?’
‘The same… I think I am anyway. It might be a good idea to have
a drink. While the opportunity presents itself.’
‘I’ll have a scotch.’ said George.
‘I kind of meant tea.’ she said.
‘That as well.’ George looked her up and down, ‘You’ve lost
weight.’
‘That’s not the thing to say to….’ began Sam.
‘It is. I need to know who you are.’
‘Fine,’ she said, ‘I’ll tell.’ They followed her through to the
lounge with the bar. She set out three glasses.
‘I think I am still retaining the memories I used to have. I cannot
be sure but I believe they are mostly intact.’
‘Memory suppression?’ George was cautious.
‘Yes. I think certainly. It is something I have lived with for a long
time. I’ve got used to the disorientation that you feel afterwards. I was
one of the few who could still operate at full strength mentally even
when it was applied. That is why I was given the option to work for
them. You see, I didn’t know what was being planned. I just had to sit
tight until I was summoned. Mr Stone has been looking after me. But I
didn’t know that until…. recently.’ she turned her face away from
them deep in thought, ‘It is actually amazing that anyone can be
subjected to that kind of conditioning without losing their sense of
knowledge or identity. In fact there is only one other way to do this….
But I cannot consider that as an option.’
‘And what is that?’ Sam asked.
‘I think that it ought to be obvious by now. You must have met
the handiwork of the Gradore Science Group?’
‘You mean the original people in the Sheffield lab?’
‘Yes. I suppose. But you find out that you weren’t working for
them at all. You were always in the pay of people who frankly hadn’t
been recruited yet. Not in the normal sense of the word.’
George was flicking through his reader, ‘I know that name…. It’s
here somewhere.’ The others sat down and waited for him to find the
page. ‘Here. Look. I don’t know what I going on; but there it is
again….. I’m getting that feeling. Right down the spine. This is big;
bigger than…. Well, the biggest thing you can think of.’
‘I’m sorry to leave in such a rush.’ Parker said, ‘Do you have the
item I need?’
‘Item? What item?’ George looked at Samantha with that flicker
of caution. She sipped her drink and looked at them levelly.
‘Well I guess you left it with Owen?’
‘Yes…. of course.’ said George, ‘So perhaps we better be
going…’
The door snapped open and the room seemed to fill up with
people.
‘Really! Not again!’ George stood holding his drink with an air of
determined stubbornness.
‘Goodness me! What do we have here?’ Mr Stone’s voice
silenced any protests they might have had. Right behind the crowd of
firmly professional looking staff members was another Samantha
Parker. She come forward looking hollow eyed from lack of sleep.
‘Oh Fuck!’ was all she said and then sat down abruptly in a nearby
chair.
The two of them looked at each other. Mr Stone, with softly
enunciated words ordered tea and cake. This simple thing, however
inappropriate some might find it was at that moment just what they
needed to calm the tension. The staff remained nearby and took
positions that included guarding the entrances.
‘What is happening?’ said the tired looking Parker.
‘I think you can conclude that one of us is not the real Samantha?’
said the other.’
‘That is just stupid!’ exclaimed Sam, ‘Honestly George! Do we
have to get us mixed up in any more narcissistic ranting of crazy
science people?’
‘I guess that we will have to take a vote on it.’ said George, ‘That
way we can be sure we are not allowing one person’s emotion to
overwhelm the general cheeriness of the day.’
‘Cheeriness George?’ Sam asked, ‘That is bonkers you know? Or
it’s Science gone mad.’
Meanwhile, Kyle had a bit of a break though. He rang George and
was amazed to find him in a receptive mood. George took the call
while balancing teacups.
‘The reporter is here George. She came round about 20 minutes
ago. We had toast.’
‘Well, don’t let her leave!’
‘Sure thing George. But I don’t think she wants to.’
‘Oh? why is it?’
‘The Zebra file…. Hidden within. She has a sodding copy George.
It took her five years to get that far.’
‘Your legendary exploits remain intact.’
‘Yes; quite so…. and get this…. The lad supplied the drugs for
Treacle’s condition, as long as Treacle kept other people away. Eyes
off the experiment. No one wants someone who is sick. The secret is
not to let it loose. It still survives.’
George was calm. A glance at the tired looking Parker and the
efforts of the other one to remain alert were really grating on his
subconscious. Then he had it. Something that was not hidden, but
needed someone with a keen sense of the ridiculous. What do people
hate the most about themselves? Their name? Their age? Height?
Weight? Hair colour etc.? George didn’t react. He stared at the rest of
the room.
‘Well,’ said George, ‘I don’t suppose you have a thing, or a means
to test this mystifying state of affairs?’
‘I’m afraid not.’ said Mr Stone, ‘I’d hoped that this might make
things a bit easier. Just a calm chat. Get some point of reference….
Yes, yes. Nice and calm and polite. There is no need for anything
else.’
‘What about this Primula? She turns up here looking very much
alive?’ George put the glass down ignoring Sam’s alarmed expression.
‘Oh dear, oh dear..’ Mr Stone frowned, then smiled, ‘You are
testing me? Of course you are. How clever. So my dears? What is it to
be? I can supply pistols if you so wish it?’
George looked down to his mobile. Kyle had sent him a text.
‘Clone is active in several forms. 1.Container. 2.Physical vessel for a
friend. 3. The enemy in a vessel.’
George looked at the two Samanthas. It wasn’t any of those, he
thought. But he remained still, seeing what they would decide to do.
The one they had first spoken to when they arrived in the
apartment spoke first: ‘I think we need to clarify the situation, just so
you know… I am sorry to say that I was cloned at an early point in the
project. I was one that worked early on. So my clone…. Here you see
her, did not need to know what the truth is…. She served as the
assistant to the Head of Science and it only became apparent that she
wasn’t an ordinary asset after Drucker disappeared. I thought we
should contain it. But development of character and will; and all that
science. I mean, they are practically people. They are people.’
The other; the one they knew as Parker looked up with sad eyes.
There was something at work in her mind. But it was not without a
sense of despair. She had been dismissed as merely an experiment in
front of all these people. Sam watched her face, there was something
of quiet dignity when she stood and announced softly: ‘I would like to
go home now. I just want to get on with my work.’
‘Of course my dear,’ said Mr Stone, ‘I will get one of my staff to
escort you to the door and call a taxi to the main road. Naturally that is
the only way to get somewhere on time without one’s own car!’ he
smiled at her and she turned and inclined her head to him for a
moment. Parker turned and left the room, two of the staff in tow.
‘Most generous.’ said the other Samantha, ‘I do believe that there
is only a short time left until another house move anyway, so she will
be able to tie things up here with ease?’
‘Yes, yes. Most convenient. I will let you Gentlemen go about
your business. There is much I could tell you. But only one thing is
relevant at the moment. Time waits for no one… oh dear, oh dear….
It’s not a cheering prospect.’
The two staff came back. They had the woman Primula with
them. She seemed innocent enough. And as she hadn’t been the one
who tried to stop them, they might conclude that she was a benign
clone too.
‘Good afternoon.’ she said, ‘I hope you have a pleasant trip.... I
mean journey back today. You must be very tired. I feel like it's Two
in the morning..... I mean I haven't been this exhausted since the last
Cup final. Kept up all night by my neighbours. No one sleeps
anymore.’
George and Kyle glanced at each other.
‘Just one question,’ said George, ‘How long have you two known
each other?’
‘Insightful?’ Samantha was leaning back and swinging the glass
between a finger and thumb, ‘As long as it's possible to know anyone.
We are cousins in fact.’
‘Cousins?’ Sam repeated. He put his glass on the edge of the edge
of table and picked up the cup of tea. Mr Stone was watching him.
‘That is certainly a surprize!’ he said and grinned, ‘I am relieved
to hear it.’
The two women visibly relaxed. But something in Primula's
expression seemed a little forced. ‘Time to go?’ she asked George, ‘I
will see you again I hope?’
‘I always turn up again. I'm everyone's bad penny.’ he stood and
Sam did so too.
‘Well, well,’ said Mr Stone, ‘Such a brief visit. You need not
worry about that other thing. I have cleared the blockage. It should
work fine now. Just make sure you go out of the front door. Everyone
is out of the building..... Afternoon off.’ he glanced at the opposite
wall. A tiny little light flashed on and off just below a shelf near to a
small china ornament. George and Sam were then escorted to the
entrance lobby. The staff, having performed their duties, almost ran
back the way they came. Sam turned round slowly and sighed. George
was checking inside his backpack. He drew out a torch, ‘Come on.’
Sam followed him to the right, down that long mysterious corridor
that never seemed to get you anywhere.
‘What is happening George? and don't BS me.’
‘We need to hurry. I'm betting that even with a head start it will
take some time for her to get there.’
‘Who? Get where?’
George sighed, ‘Bloody Amateurs.’
‘You mean me?’
‘Shut up.’ George responded.
‘I don't see....’
George held a finger to his lips, ‘This way; I think.’
They made a right turn, and continued for about twenty feet.
There was a door there; the entrance to the cold storage place. Sam
peered through the window in the thick door, ‘What is going on?’
‘If I didn't think I needed you I wouldn't have brought you.’
George sounded as if he was gritting his teeth. He fastened his coat
and got his gloves out; ‘Look, just so you know, I intend to fly that
time machine to the place where this all started. I have the starter coil.
We just need to find it again.’
‘You think Parker is going to try to fly it?’
‘Yes.’ said George, ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yeah, got it. So she is trying to find the Machine too?’
‘Yes Sam,’ George was patient this time as they pressed through
the double doors, ‘But she can't.’
‘It's the wrong key?’
‘Right again. Henry's Machine is here, not Parker's. She will have
to hitch a ride with us. If we can find her.’
‘So whose side is Primula on? Come to think of it, who is
Primula?’
‘She's one of the Project managers. The one with a more hands on
role. She didn't mind getting her hands dirty. She is Parker's
contemporary. I think the other girl is from there too.’
‘The past.’
‘Exactly so. They are working in the field, as it were. They
answer to a control. I don't think it is Drucker. But I think that Parker
embedded something in her own memory to help her. She was very
tired. I think she has found a way to reintegrate certain things that
were lost as a necessary part of her work for the Project. And yes....I
do believe that Arc is connected. In fact I think that Arc ran all these
satellite programs. Parker was smart enough to use; perhaps too smart.
That is why she ended up here.’
‘Is she a clone of the other girl?’
‘I say not,’ said George, ‘Besides, there are other reasons why a
person looks like someone else.’
‘And they are?’
‘Coincidence; Plastic surgery; or genetically related.’
‘But that is what a clone is…..genetically connected.’
‘Right. So if that is true, why did she call Kyle “Owen”?; and why
did she think we had the start-up key to give to her?’
‘Err….they are both called Samantha….that surely….?’
‘Coincidence.’ said George firmly, ‘I bet my best chicken and
mushroom pie.’
‘She’s Primula Jenson’s cousin?’
‘I guess adopted cousin.’
‘A bit like the two we know?’
‘Marcia? Certainly… but suppose that Marcia had a twin sister.
They were separated at birth and adopted by different families…..
What if, those two families…. In the course of chance both called
their children Marcia?’
‘Then she would have a genetic twin, with the same name who
looked like her.’ Sam stopped his eyes round, ‘You don’t think?
Surely not…’
‘It would be worth it just to see the look on your face when I’m
proved right.’
‘But someone would know…. I mean…. Surely it’s not allowed?’
‘There is actually nothing to stop it. The system is stupid, you
know that.’
‘Yes…. I see. It is….. Here’s the shelf sign George.’
‘Right. Yes.’
‘What now?’
‘We wait.’
*****
Chapter Eleven
We Can, Because We Think We Can.
Samantha, as in Parker as she preferred to be known; walked
slowly with a semblance of resignation. That was until the people who
had escorted her to the street were out of sight. Mr Stone had given
her a tip - there were some doors that did not look like doors, but
could be opened in the conventional way. It was easy therefore once
the information inside her own head could be accessed again to find
her way back in.
She took advantage of the secretary’s cupboard and loaded up
with her snacks and standard issue kit. The woman was an
inconsequential individual who remembered very little of her time in
the building. So she felt no guilt at taking those items that ensured her
comfort if not her survival.
Samantha’s state of mind was one she chose for those ten minutes
to ignore. Mr Stone had said that she should not take everything as
being obviously true. The first thought was that the other was her
clone; and she was the original. But that meant that she had forgotten
more of her life than just the boring bits; and more to the point she
was aligned with some of the most evil people in the world as she saw
it… so it did not square with her moral outlook. She saw a paradox,
her mind could not accept it, and therefore she ignored it until she
reached the doorway to the deep archives. She slid through, and
hunched in her coat, slowly inspected the shelves and huge gantries in
what she thought was a systematic manner. But he thought of that
other and the phrase “Practically People” came back to her and
infected her mind until she was bent double gasping and crying with
shame. Or perhaps fear… there was one feeling, a mixture of all those
things and more. And now, she saw one way out: one light in the
tunnel of her darkness and disillusionment with the path that had
brought her to this place. Now; she looked for the Time Machine, to
bear her hence from this place, and in her heart she saw a shrinking, a
dying, and soon, so soon it would be gone. Hope, and light. Perhaps
on a further shore they existed. She could not think about it now. She
had to focus and think carefully about where it would be. The exact
location. She knew of course. But this door was on the side at right
angles to the complex map in her head. Normally she would have
found the place in a few minutes, and have run through the dark cold
place light foot and full of certainty. But this creature she had become
crept slowly and sometimes turned and doubted and wondered if it
was here at all. Samantha stopped at an intersection. Although she had
been sure, she doubted her thoughts now. Nothing had a solidity to it
now. That had been taken and she must wrest it back once she was
safe and could process what was happening. Mr Stone warned her, he
knew that she was not stable. Forcing a locked door was dangerous.
Her mind was rebelling. She wanted to sleep, and yet now she was
awake with that rush of fear and horror that consumed her whole
being, as she stumbled and sank on the corner near to the Time
Machine.
Sam and George were hidden in the shadows. They caught a
glimpse of her. Then they saw something following her course. At that
moment she could not see those others. But it was clear that she was
listening. She raised her head and felt her way round a large packing
case and skirted the end of that row and began to run away lightly on
tips toes. The ones in her wake were not fooled and followed her
direction. George did not speak but raised a hand. Sam nodded and
followed into the dark. George turned and blended into the shadows
near the lumpy end of the object.
‘What the hell!’ Samantha pulled back out of sight of the two men
in official jump suits. They had caps and a lot of pockets and one
carried a clipboard. She stared at their shoes as they walked past. She
tried to breathe silently and not to sneeze. Her passage through this
labyrinth had stirred up a lot of dust. They seemed not to notice, but
turned abruptly right at the next intersection, the arc of their torches
tracing an eerie glow into the ceiling high above everyone’s heads.
Samantha sighed. But then she saw that they were circling back round
to her position. She moved and ran again, this time not caring to be as
quiet. No. Bad move. There were others and they did see her. They
started to run, and then she caught the machine glowing in the dim
light. Now she would see what they did to her, it was coming back
now. Not how this story should end. Fear added speed to her flight,
but she was dodging this way and that, trying to evade her potential
captors and still orientate herself on the shape in the darkness. The
place that all this foolishness had taken her at last.
‘Gotcha!’ This one cried in triumph at his own cleverness.
Samantha struggled vainly. There was a commotion, and she was
suddenly free again. She ran without looking behind and hid for a long
time. Her breath was raggy and her lungs were feeling the effects of
the unexpected exercise in this cold place. She realised that while she
was trying to get to a specific place, they were trying to simply find
her, and she better move again soon so that their target was lost to
them.
Shapes in the semi-dark. Samantha was lost, and she did not dare
break her position. She had circled again and then she heard a sharp
bark of indignation and a heavy thud. Someone else was here too!
That was not good news surely. There was a chance they were simply
marking the odds for their favour, not hers, and she would be grabbed
by someone else instead. What difference!
So she scrambled up and ran scared to her destination; this place
had made it dusty in her mind’s eye, so she did not immediately
recognise the Time Vehicle. She slid to a stop, blinked and slithered
down underneath the nearby rounded black object that looked like an
old car. The sound of the sea roared in her ears, and the despair she
had felt was giving way to an unidentified panic. All that was left was
a determination to find out where this had all begun, and how, and
why she…. Why they had made her of cloned tissue and what her role
apart from careless annihilation could now be. She saw her chance as
the sweep of arc lights faded, and scraping her ribs on the sharp edges,
pulled herself out from under the dark car and sprang for the door of
the machine.
Once inside, she started the ignition sequence. The door would not
lock and she had to rely on working without the inner lights. Time to
put the round gear into the recess in the dashboard. Her fingers were
made numb by panic as she found the clip and pulled back the little
sliding panel. She took out the golden ring with its power coil residing
within, and carefully pressed it into the housing. She was just about to
turn it the quarter turn to the right when there was a loud clang outside
and a horrible scuffling and someone swearing very imaginatively.
She slammed her hand down on the lever hoping to activate the Time
Warp and throw off her assailants. But the door swung open and
crashed against the edge of the low shelving that ran round inside the
mid parts of the craft. A moment later someone strode forward and
twisted the round golden donut shaped ignition control out of its
place. Samantha instinctively took a swing at the second person who
bent over her. He caught her wrist and gripped it firmly. The first had
then slammed the door shut with them all on the inside. Out there a
commotion could be heard and a lot of shouting. Someone was calling
her name, and it was in rhythm with the stranger shaking her by the
arm. She stopped struggling and went limp.
‘Samantha. Samantha Parker…. We have the right one. It’s here.
Yours won’t work. It might fry the circuit. Do you hear? Parker….
Come on.’
Dumbly she looked up and saw the face of the Detective. That
one, the nice guy. The one she thought she could trust….. Her head
shook from side to side, and she thought she heard a long soft moan of
a “No….” escape her own lips.
‘Get ready!’ said George sharply.
Samantha’s awareness snapped into focus. She could feel the
flexing buzz of the Time Warp activate, and as much as she wasn’t
sure of her predicament this always made her feel special. She eased
herself to her feet as Sam the Detective moved away to look out
through the viewer to the men furiously waving their arms and
mouthing something that looked like “Stop!” A gasp of amused irony
escaped her lips. And then she laughed, a bitter taste of reprieve; but
for what, or when?
‘Buckle up!’ George roared, ‘This is going to be really rough.’
She obeyed, sat in the nearest seat and tightened the strap. She
could feel the dragging wave of another time vehicle. Almost visualise
the heat haze of the shimmering of the time warp and the whining
creak of the physical anchor.
‘Bloody release switch?’
‘Where the hell is it?’
Samantha was aware that the voice was addressing her and she
pointed. Whether she just decided, or it was the swift cooperation
between the two friends made her think that they couldn’t be on the
side of the baddies; she quite rightly decided to play it cool. But the
pitch of the outer noise increased, and it ceased to matter. It was time.
There could be another one of these Machines somewhere….
Somewhere in time and space, near the place where everyone goes but
no one sees? A little like flying and a lot like sinking…. No rhyme or
reason to the path that they would take. Time Warp. She had forgotten
the euphoria of that moment; that wonder and that majesty of the first
taste of Time Travel. To fall in love, with time…. it had been too
long; too long for love to survive she believed. Time enough. And
next thing she knew there was a smooth oblong of light and there was
a fresh but gentle breeze coming in the space from somewhere.
‘Are you awake?’
‘Yes.’ she mumbled, ‘I think yes. But not very.’
Sam moved away slightly, his face concerned but innocent of any
deception.
‘How did you know?’ she said thickly, ‘About the ignition coil I
mean?’
‘I think you better ask George. He will be back in a minute. He’s
just checking the outside.’ Sam sat down and rubbed his hands over
his face, ‘It was a bit bumpy.’ he added.
‘What happened?’ she tried to move and he raised a hand to stop
her.
‘George says stay still. You might have banged you head.’
‘Oh…..’ Samantha tried to focus on the oblong of light, ‘Where
are my…?’
Sam handed her the glasses case. She didn’t remember which
pocket they had been in, ‘Did you….?’ But at that moment George
barged back in wide eyed. ‘Frigging hell! Have you any idea where
we are?’
‘Not as such.’ Sam said calmly.
‘George knelt down and spoke in quite a different tone, ‘Now dear
Lady, I hope you will cooperate with a few simple tests to see if you
are concussed or not.’
‘Okay.’ Samantha shook her head to clear the buzzing.
‘Does anything hurt?’
‘Not really.’
Sam went to the door while George checked Samantha. Outside
there was a patch of grass, and then a low old brick wall. ‘Where are
we?’ he called over his shoulder. Samantha scrambled up behind him.
‘Oh, my, God!’
‘Tell me I’m parked in a restricted zone.’ said George.
‘We shouldn’t be here.’ she said, ‘We must go. Right now.’
‘What it is?’ Sam half turned and saw that there we people
streaming out of a building just beyond the low wall.
‘It’s the lab.’ Samantha cringed and ducked down.
‘Shit!’ George pulled them back and shut the door.
‘What is going on?’ Sam watched the people through the front
window.
‘It’s the coordinates,’ said George, ‘it was all I had to go on.’
‘You took us back to the day Drucker went missing?’ Samantha
was aghast.
‘Those things we do,’ said George, ‘that lead us into the underside
of the soul.’
‘Is that a quote?’ Sam stopped and froze, ‘No… wait a minute.’
He turned to Samantha, but she had dropped to the floor.
‘It’s her… I mean her in the past.’ George found his camera and
took a couple of photos, ‘I must say Parker, you haven’t aged a bit.’
‘It’s only been five years.’ she said through gritted teeth and
swallowed.
‘Hey! Come on. We are the good guys. We’re not against you.’
‘It’s not that. I mustn’t be seen. It would create a paradox.’
‘Get up.’ said George, and held out his hand, ‘They can’t see
through the glass even if they were looking this way; which they
weren’t by the way. I am as ever amazed how unobservant people
are.’
‘Only some people!’ said another voice.
Samantha sat down. She took out her glasses and polished them.
George and Sam remained standing. Samantha pushed her glasses up
her nose and waited for the man to speak. He regarded her with a
strange caution.
‘Good afternoon.’ said George, ‘I suppose you two already know
each other.’
‘Yes,’ said the man, ‘And who is your sour looking friend?’
‘Oh, him. Don’t worry about him. Merely my assistant in this
afternoon’s enterprise.’
Sam rolled his eyes but otherwise said nothing. The man stared at
him and then at George his eyes sweeping across Samantha in a way
that suggested that she disturbed him, but did not wish to say it.
‘And now, I will have to trouble you for the use of this rather fine
machine. After all, I did invent the thing. Most timely of you to pop
in!’
‘I’m sorry,’ George said, ‘but I promised my Ward I would be
back in time for pizza night.’
‘What?’ the man looked taken aback, especially as George then
did not show the slightest hint of alarm when he suddenly produced a
gun. Sam rolled his eyes at George who was staring out of the
window. ‘Time to go….’ he said softly.
‘Don’t think about it.’ said the man, and jerked his head in the
direction of the door. George motioned to Sam to pick up both their
packs, and then helped Samantha to her feet.
‘That’s right. Don’t be so sure that we won’t meet again, but I
would advise against coming after me. That would be most unwise.’
They stood outside on the grass. Samantha was looking up at the
one she had thought about so many times. The man she thought was
good and noble and full of the principles that make science great. But
she saw a look in his eyes; a cold contempt that shrank her down. She
stood shivering. George put his arm round her shoulders, ‘Come on.
We need to get back. Mustn’t be caught in the back blast.’
They backed off. Sam handed the pack to George who swung it
behind the wall and helped Samantha. They ducked behind a silver
birch. Sheltered by the vegetation they turned just as the time flux
began to burn. There was a sudden rush of wind wand them and
silence. Then all the sounds around turned back on. The birds were
singing on a late spring morning. And all the talk about afternoons;
and the thing that had been not spoken rolled back in.
‘He knew who you were, didn’t he?’ asked Sam.
‘I’m afraid so.’ said George, ‘It has to do with Sandglass. I think
that there is a connection. Well, more of a connection than we
suspected actually. I think we might in fact have just helped the
founder of the group that started Nimbus; and set up the Arc project
and called the bluff of the rather annoying Traveller’s society. That, I
grant you would be quite gratifying; but as for the rest, well, it’s at
least as much of a problem as the Cat.’
‘You’re understating the problem.’ said Sam.
‘Yes. Yes I am.’ George smiled, ‘For the sake of general calm and
in deference to the pleasantness of this rather well-proportioned day, I
thought it best not to be too melodramatic.’
‘Look to the Lady.’ said Sam, ‘I think she’s feeling a little under
the weather.’
Samantha sat on the grass and covered her face. She couldn’t help
it. She was stranded in the past in the one place that in theory she had
wanted to get to, but the one place that in fact she now did not what to
be in. And with a couple of geeks who were on the face of it not the
most sympathetic to the seriousness of the problem they were facing.
She felt a tear leak out and did not want to move.
‘I think that tea is good.’ said George ‘Is there somewhere where
we can get a good cup of tea?’
‘But we’re in the past!’ said Samantha.
‘Yes. Is there a problem? They do serve tea round here I take it?
All this excitement had really made me thirsty.’
George seemed quite jolly. He poured the milk and tea with a
flourish. Samantha had recovered a little and accepted the cup and
curled her fingers round it.
‘Are we safe here?’ she looked around.
‘Surely you know more about it?’ Sam took the cup George
handed him, ‘This is where you were. And the project….?’
‘The project was a deceit,’ she said, ‘we are led astray by the
worst people in the world.’
‘They are not the worse.’ said George.
‘There’s more?’ she responded.
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘When were you going to tell me?’
‘As soon as we got into the lab.’
‘My lab?’
‘Yes.’
‘You mean here, in the past?’
‘Well, yes.’ George looked surprised as if the thought that she
might not realise it had been an option she had considered.
‘Of course.’ Samantha sighed and supped her tea, ‘But I was
intending to wait until I had gone. I would have taken it two years
further on, and then waited until I left for the tour into the future
before going into the lab.’
‘But why?’ George was still looking surprised.
‘Because,’ she sighed, ‘the programming would be complete for
the machine. I suppose now I’m stranded here. In the past, I mean. But
from my point of view it is in the place I left in the first place. It just
never seems the same when you’ve been away so long.’
‘So that would make you….?’ George was counting on his
fingers.
‘I’m Twenty-Seven. And please don’t ask me to explain. It wasn’t
the first trip into the future I went on.’
‘I’m guessing that you were in the place they called Mobius?’
George was thoughtful now.
‘Yes… how did you know? No one knows that! I mean… it is
Top Secret.’ she pushed the cup away, ‘Oh shit!’
‘It’s okay.’ George put a hand on her wrist, ‘Really. I’m trying to
help.’ He stared at her, and then there was that thought in both their
minds; the one that would remain unspoken. They had both been
servants of the same master. They both were trying to extricate
themselves.
‘Yes….’ said George to her indrawn breath, ‘I know it. I also
want to find out where is its place of origin.’ he squeezed her hand
and then let go.
‘I see.’ Samantha was very still, ‘You have it too. Don’t you?
Time is like a maze, and we look for the beginning that could be
anywhere?’
‘Of course,’ said George not breaking her gaze, ‘I am trying to
save people like you. I want to put right the wrongs that have been
done…..’ he lowered his voice, ‘even the things I was unwittingly
party to. You know it Ms Parker, just as I did, that awakening to
awareness. Then one day you just have to get out. But slowly…. Oh,
do it slowly and with care. Yes. Tread carefully my dear. We are all
slaves to the system still.’
Sam shifted in his seat, ‘The business we need concern ourselves
with now is more mundane folks: a place to stay, and a way of getting
back.’
‘The long version, or the short version?’ George said.
‘Short.’ said Sam, ‘What of it Parker?’
‘Mmm, yes.’ she nodded, and her mouth twitched with
amusement, ‘Go ahead…’
George just shrugged, ‘I suppose you will find the full flavour of
my useful discourse at a time yet to be decided. The thought occurs
that I…. I go back and pick up Kyle and bring him here. He is the
only one who can get inside without getting caught. Even in that
system, there have to be some challenges to an intellect like his?’
‘Wait…’ Sam fiddled with a napkin in that nervous way that
George recognised, ‘you said fetch?’
‘That’s right,’ he leaned forward, ‘you didn’t think I came without
backup do you?’
It was in the nature of things for Kyle to be just a little concerned
when George didn’t ring and somehow his mobile had a disconnected
signal…. Well, just weird. And so, with a flash of astute inspiration he
checked the fax machine. The light was flashing. Kyle set it to print
the message out. Only one page. It was simple. “Pack the kit. Time for
Kung fu.”
‘Thanks George.’ Kyle muttered and folded it up and stuffed it in
the pocket of his jeans. He trotted back down stairs where his guests
were setting up the Scrabble board.
Jade looked up sharply as he appeared, ‘You have something in
your mind?’
‘Is that female intuition?’ said Kyle.
‘Not really. More a nose for a story. What’s going on?’
‘I think,’ Kyle considered the variations of answer he could give,
‘You might want to stay here tonight. I can put you up in the third
guest room.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s very comfortable,’ Kyle added, ‘with a four poster bed.’
‘And where will you be?’ she looked suddenly very interested.
‘Err…’
‘He’s going on a little trip,’ said Treacle, who was arranging the
Scrabble pieces, ‘In time, we’ll all have an answer. Just a little time
and then you can get it all in one. All at one moment. They say it only
takes a moment…. Just like having your shots…. They lean you back
and you don’t remember a thing.’
‘That’s right Honey,’ said Jade, ‘You and I will stay here tonight.
That will be alright won’t it?’ she looked back at Kyle with an
enquiring glance.
‘I will warn you now.’ Kyle tried to sound firm, ‘If you fiddle
with the computers it will do something very nasty to you.’
‘Oh? What’s that?’
‘The release of extra strong sneezing powder into the bedrooms.’
‘I’ll be sure to keep my hands to myself then.’ Jade was grinning,
and Kyle sighed. No matter what he said they never seemed to believe
him: girls that is. He better just stick to the observable facts.
‘I’m going to be out for the night. Help yourself to anything in the
fridge, and avoid opening the front door. Actually you can’t, and
getting out through the first floor window is a bit of a pain.’
‘Tried it have you?’ she was smiling again. Kyle turned away.
Too much in one week. Women that is. He went to get his kit
together, and for the first time had a pang of real concern for
Samantha.
Somewhere down a dark alley there was movement. Bobby
stepped out of the shadows. Another was there, he was tall and wore a
floppy hat, and nodded at Bobby with acknowledgement of his
presence. They both turned and walked to a place that had become
familiar and strangely ordinary. In the evening light, within a clear
still night they stood together.
‘I am limited in this matter. You know that?’
‘Yes,’ Bobby turned, the nearby streetlight leaving some of his
face in shadow. They entered the gate and stood near the monument.
In the rising moon the graveyard looked still and peaceful rather than
creepy. They walked forward together.
‘I can stay here. In case they come.’ said the tall man.
‘How long can you wait?’
‘Until the matter is concluded.’ he replied, ‘It is the least I can
do.’
‘Very well,’ said Bobby, ‘I will see if they have got any further on
in their investigation.’
The tall man nodded and seating himself on a nearby bench got
out a flask vacuum flask and set it beside him. He looked up at Bobby
who stood there glazing out at the mount of earth and the flower bed
that had been carefully planted. ‘I always liked yellow flowers,’ he
said, ‘It makes me think of Butter or Honey.’
‘It would go with the tea.’ said the tall man and twisted the neck
of the flask.
‘It will be a long time before I can think about that again.’ said
Bobby, ‘I will find them and see if they are any closer.’
‘As you wish.’ said the tall man and started to pour.
Bobby was already walking back out through the gate. In a
moment the path was empty. The tall man shook his head and sipped
his tea carefully.
‘We know that Henry’s brother is a clone. Or rather…. It appears
that he was substituted for a clone. And he’s well…..over to you
Sam.’
Sam stood with his back to the room looking out of the window of
the small flat they had rented. He lit a cigarette and cracked it open a
little to blow a stream out before replying: ‘Yeah, well…. We think he
is completely off his head, as in nuts. George here thinks it’s
something to do with the mind rejecting the body it has been put into.
I’m not sure what that means, but he said a lot of stuff that on the
surface of it didn’t seem to make sense.’
‘Did you note it down?’ said Parker who seemed cheered by the
sandwiches that George had ordered on room service, not to say the
mini fridge full of booze. She twisted to top of the vodka and added it
to a glass of tropical juice. Sam handed her his note book. She
scanned it quickly and gave it back.
‘There’s nothing here. We already know that sometimes they used
temporary containers for people’s consciousness. It helps if the usable
bodies are in stasis so they arrive intact.’
‘You came in the machine.’ George said, ‘you were not put in a
clone?’
‘No. I know that. It means nothing now. I have what I have that’s
all. I will however kill the person who did this.’
Sam half turned and met her eyes. She looked back at him with no
trace of humour. He looked away, ‘Revenge is a poor motive for this.’
‘It might be my only compensation for a life unlived.’ she said
and slugged most of the peach mixture, ‘You understand that I don’t
know what I might get out of this at the end. So humour me a little at
least.’
‘I think you must have to be one hundred percent human.’ said
Sam.
‘How can you know?’
‘I don’t understand you; even when I know exactly what you’ve
said.’
She just smiled and looked at George who had got his gun out and
was checking it carefully.
‘Anachronism Mr Carter?’
‘No.’ George checked the barrel, ‘Insurance, Ms Parker.’
‘I thought you were a doctor?’
‘So did he.’ said Sam, ‘It’s funny how things happen. We will
have to tell you all about it sometime.’
‘Maybe.’ said George.
Gina watched the sky outside darken. Juliet remained where she
was. Time stretched out in rolls and folds. Gina drank a cup of tea
Matron had brought her, and then ran her hand down the centrefold of
the notebook. She tapped the end of the pen on the paper and thought
about all the things that had been happening. Something stacked up….
and dear George was right, someone was manipulating the situation.
So how to get ahead of them? She looked at Juliet again, and then
realised that she had been looking at the bracelet on Juliet’s wrist. I
wonder? Gina very carefully took hold of the other girl’s hand and
whispered softly: ‘Now then Girlfriend, we need your help. I hope
your pal Gina isn’t going to regret this! But George asked me to find
out something…. the bit that is missing. And well; you are not going
to be bothered by being knocked out…. Since you are already.…’ she
bent over the other girl and saw no movement except the soft rise and
fall of her chest as she breathed. Juliet was hooked up to all these
monitors and doubtless the alarm would go if anything happened to
change the fine balance of all that. But… she had to help, and Juliet
couldn’t be in a worse state, could she?
Gina pulled her own bangle into position. The key was to get
Juliet’s to hit against hers. That way Gina would teleport and Juliet
would remain where she was. Under normal circumstances the one
who didn’t teleport got knocked out. But since she was already….
Gina reasoned that it was a chance she would have to take.
Gina stood with her bag slung across her body. She had a torch, a
waterproof and various other items of a useful nature. Being George’s
girlfriend had not dented her vanity, but rather added a dimension to
it. Gina was determined to be prepared for any eventuality. In fact
nowadays she prided herself on it. That was why she always carried
her emergency eyeliner and a lip slicker in with the kit of useful items.
She gripped Juliet’s bangle firmly and raised the other girl’s hand
just above her own on the coverlet. She had slipped on a thin vinyl
glove to insulate it just enough.
‘I hope the boys are alright.’ she said to Juliet, and then with a
swift motion jerking down forcefully, smacked Juliet’s bangle neatly
against her own.
Gina coughed. She tasted dust and quickly found the torch. Here
was a place that needed industrial cleaning. A cavern: manmade it
seemed crumbled with a layer of thick cream coloured grit. She swept
the torch around. There was a gleam of metal. Gina orientated on the
thing and cautiously moved forward. A small door that stood ajar. A
rush of crumbling earth was brought down as she pulled it open a little
more. She went inside the room. It was dry and dusty and clearly the
inside of a machine. Gina knew straight away what it was. She went
forward and examined the console and being careful not to move any
of the levers and switches brushed some of the dust away. She sniffed.
Then she smelt it. An odd kind of odour. Vaguely sweet, but musty. It
reminded her of something. Something that was calling from the back
of her mind to frame a memory of something that she did not like. She
went towards another small door. Against drifting dust was disturbed
by her passing through. It was one of the small rooms off the main
area. Inside were several items. A chair and table and bookcase and
radio set… this had it innards out on the table and looked as if it had
been vandalised. There was that scent again. Something old.
Something…..
She saw it then… and pity overcame her horror at the discovery.
She saw it through George’s eyes. And she analysed the position and
took in the probable cause of death and the evidence of the presence
that had been of another… and then, after that gagged and had to
move back into the other space to recover. It was then that she realised
her predicament. There was no way out. There was no exit door to the
outside. She was buried. But Gina did not waste time thinking about
that too hard. She knew that the bangle that had drawn her here had to
be on the body. She would have to look closer. She found a mask to
out on to cover her nose and mouth and got a sample bag. she went
back in and feeling braver decided she was an investigator and this
better be a good sample…. A bit of hair and the man’s watch for it
was a man. She used her camera and took some photos and then lastly
gently left the wrist. A sense of sadness and pity rose in her chest and
she leaned closer: ‘I am so sorry…. I will try to find out who you are
and give you some rest. My George will help you. He’ll know what to
do. But now, I hope you understand I need to use you bangle to send
me back. I’ll find out. I promise.’
Gina felt the moment fade, and the sober sensation of being
trapped underground had her grip the other bangle and strike it against
hers in a determined way. Gina vanished. And the dust motes settled
back down. And in the silence and the dark something like a sigh was
heard… if there had been anyone else to hear it.
Primula was running as fast as she could. She had to get away.
Gary had said not to worry about him. There were so many doors he
said. Lots and lots of them. Primula had waited until the memories
came back. It took a couple of days. Then she had it…. the face of the
man who had killed her. It broke her heart, just knowing how he had
been used. It was his face, the one she knew so well…. It was cruel of
them to use his clone; to contort the features into a mask of hate. Yet
it could not erase the real memory of the boy she had known. So the
reason? One only… Prim ran for her life. And in the knowledge of a
betrayal that went back to the beginning. How could she protect
Samantha now?
And following her…. The clones, like shadows in the night. They
had one job - to clean up other people’s mistakes. If only it were that
simple! The truth was more complex than even she had imagined. She
tried not to think about it and dodged round the corner. She thought
she must have lost them and slowed slightly. Her breath was coming
in ragged gasps. There wasn’t far to go. But then she felt it; that
whisper on the air of the presence of the others. They had a trace that
was hard to pin point. Primula could read a Time Trace with ease and
other ordinary people if she concentrated. In her hyper-adrenalized
state she could hear the echoes in her head of all everyone she passed.
But the clones….. They were different, like ghosts… she yanked her
mind towards her target and accelerated. She burst in through the door
of the restaurant, and ignoring the protestations of the hostess, ran
down the corridor that led to the staff area. She could hear them trying
to come after her. But the boys and girls were doing their job. Those
were some who wouldn’t make it back to their master. Damn him!
She slowed and found the room. The girl in there helped her change
out of the clothes she had been wearing. They took the thin case that
contained Prim’s older clothes and quickly got her ready to leave. The
girl nodded in approval as Prim stood and straightened her jacket with
a little tug.
‘Your watch Ma’am.’ she offered it in the case without touching
it. Prim took it and met the girl’s eyes.
‘Thank you.’ she said relieved that she did not have to stay. She
fastened the watch and the Girl walked round her to check that all was
well.
‘Go now.’ she whispered, ‘It’s time.’
Prim took the door to the right; the plain one. That seemed quite
innocuous. And in a few minutes was walking through a corridor and
out the other side.
Here it was ruined and a jumble of mess: an old outhouse. The
other building - that one she had just left was not here. Not yet. She
found the lab coat, still draped neatly over an old chair. On a nearby
bench a cup steamed. A moment ago, that was when Prim had left.
The disorientation was still upon her as she heard someone calling
her. She sipped the tea and went out into the sunny place.
‘Whatcha Jensen? I thought you didn’t smoke?’
‘I can still have a break can’t I?’
‘Yes of course,’ he replied, ‘we’re just testing another batch. Do
you want to see?’
‘I’d love to.’ she followed him somewhat unsteadily.
‘I say, are you feeling alright? You look a bit flushed.’
‘No…. no, I’m fine.’ She brushed a hand over her already neat
hair. He was looking at her too closely, his brow furrowed with
concern. She looked down and realised that she was still wearing her
bangle. It was peeping from underneath her sleeve. She tugged the lab
coat down over it and smiled at Jeremy, ‘Come on. Show me what
you’ve been cooking.’
‘Great!’ he said, ‘It seems we’re getting somewhere. They should
have the results by this afternoon. Perhaps I can interest you in
lunch?’
‘I…. err….’
‘What about it Jensen? I’m really not just a lab coat under here
you know.’
‘Of course not.’ she smiled and they continued walking towards
the lab’s side door. Inside, she excused herself and went into the
ladies. She focused and managed to slip off the bangle. She muttered
to herself, and breathed a few times, flushed the loo and then went to
inspect herself in the mirror. She looked pink cheeked from the recent
exercise, and she still felt disorientated. It might be a good idea to
accept Jeremy’s lunch invitation. After all, he would not trouble her
with anything so tedious as actual conversation. And with him holding
forth about all his fascinating facts she need not be under pressure to
reveal anything about herself. She went out and entered the busy
bustling energy of the experimental area. She paused, took a deep
breath to compose herself and plunged in. She approached the project
leader and they turned as she approached.
‘So,’ she said, ‘we might have results?’
‘Yes, yes indeed Miss Jenson. The reality of Time Propulsion
could soon be in our grasp. This is a fine day indeed!’
‘Yes.’ she responded as another came to join their group:
Samantha Parker…. still so innocent. Primula held her breath
momentarily as she always did. And then saw inside her mind as
being the younger version of herself. Before it all went wrong. Poor
Parker! But the project leader was speaking. He flashed a look
towards Prim, a knowing look and then continued talking to the group
that had gathered. He would be the enemy. Soon. And Prim would
hunt for him. The breakthrough was coming; and although he never
intended it, it was all to end the way he never imagined. And another
would take his place. The one who made Samantha Parker comply, for
her own good of course. The one who did not really go by any name
that they knew. Classified…. He was simply the project leader, the
boss; the last word. In this time Jensen still had some leverage. And if
she was to protect Samantha she had to live this one through. She
knew the future and knew her own fate; or reported fate. And there
was only a slim chance she would get out of this. She was confident
that the odds could be swung in her favour. After all: she had all the
time in the world. She looked up, Drucker was watching her. ‘Do you
agree?’
‘Pardon?’
‘If we could use three packs instead of two?’
‘Yes…. I mean, why?’
‘Ah! The only one who asked the question. What would I do
without you Jenson?’
‘You would most likely advertise the job through the least
publically exposed channels.’ she retorted.
They all laughed. The disorientation had passed and she returned
to her work. But someone watched her…. The other. She wished she
was not here. And the damage she could already exact had been set in
the Timeline. Her cousin, the other Miss Jensen. She looked around.
They were all laughing at another inappropriate but well-meant
comment. It would be time to deal with that soon. She did not relish
the thought. She looked away.
Another person was watching her, watching the new girl. A young
man. He was only here as an intern from the University. He wanted to
do forensics. This was what was available. He flicked a thick fringe
away from his face and she turned then, catching his eyes. He had
green eyes, and a steady thoughtful expression. It was hard. But she
must resist the temptation to tell him everything. She looked at the
watch and hoped the afternoon would not drag so she could go home
and stand under the shower. To wash away the fear.
By the following morning Prim felt things return quite towards
normal. The lab buzzed with the happy conversation of colleagues at
work. Samantha came in, ponytail bouncing as she walked and
stopped to talk to the young intern. Uh Oh! There it was again, that
look. He returned it. A little while later Prim was in the wash room
when Samantha came in; she got out a comb and teased her hair into
place.
‘Going somewhere?’ Primula tried not to sound too interested.
‘Maybe…’ Samantha turned and flashed a grin at Prim, ‘Do you
think I should? Wouldn’t it be nice Prim? I mean I’ve had boyfriends
before…. But he’s just a bit… well he doesn’t get scared when I talk
science stuff.’
‘I know,’ Prim took out a lipstick and made a show of carefully
applying some, ‘He’s sweet. What does he want to be when he grows
up?’
‘Oh! Prim. He’s older than he looks, and smart and funny. And he
can protect me!’
‘Forensics?’
‘No…. no, that’s only part of it,’ she put her comb away, ‘he’s
going to be a detective. A policeman.’
‘So why is he here?’ Prim studied the other closely.
‘He says that they want him on a special detail. We need a copper
we can trust to work with the local people. Set their minds at rest; that
sort of thing.’
‘It might be better if you don’t date him then.’ said Prim sourly.
‘You’re just jealous,’ Sam turned to go, ‘I’ve bagged a nice boy
and you haven’t.’
Prim couldn’t find anything to say. She watched Sam skip away in
a happy mood. She stared at herself in the mirror. She had not aged
much. The difference was not noticeable. Not yet at least. But she
could not keep this up. She would have to find the point of insertion
soon. Primula knew that she could not risk missing the right day, the
right moment. So this risk, this double-ended life of time doors and
deception was tiring her out. The help she needed was there; but the
strain she personally felt was eating away at her resolve. And the, as
yet, unsullied work of youth that Samantha was one day to cease to be
would haunt Prim’s memory. Her personal timeline was as Kimmy
put it: “A fucked up mess”. That was Kimmy the researcher from the
future. Kimmy who worked for Mr Stone. Mr Stone was her other
ally. He soothed her shattered nerves when it all became too much.
But even Mr Stone could not keep out those slithering pawns to the
great man…. that project leader, that blight on the world; that
manipulator of the weak and helpless, that cruel, lustful Man of
darkness and the graceless product of a diseased mind.
Primula had thought she knew who he really was, and before the
discovery of the time door and her jump into her own future she had
not seen his face. But now she saw it everywhere. He infected her
dreams, and sometimes, like a grinning shark, he woke her up with
fear in the watches of the night.
This missing time that she had jumped over by accident she was
now filling in… by simply playing herself. It was so tedious to live
her own life knowing what was going to happen in eighteen months’
time. She sighed and left the washroom. She nearly cannoned into
Joseph Drucker. He stared at her with a vague kind of attentiveness
that made Prim reflect on the thing that had brought her here in the
first place.
A coincidence…..
Samantha was reeling with disorientation. She was waiting at the
corner. And there quite suddenly she saw the boy…. He was so sweet
she decided. So near, and yet so far.
‘Be careful!’ George hissed and pulled her backwards.
‘Are we here?’ Sam looked serious and frowned, ‘Is it time?’
‘Quiet.’ Said George, ‘Shouldn’t take a mo.’ with that he leaned
forward and set the little beacon. It hummed slightly but did not light
up.
‘He’s coming this way!’ said Samantha alarmed.
‘Pick a number from one to ten.’ said George.
‘You what?’
‘A number,’ George said patiently, ‘between those two.’
‘But….’
‘Five.’ Sam said quickly.
‘He’s looking this way.’ said Samantha.
‘Count down.’ said George, ‘Slowly.’
‘Five, four, three….’ Sam was sullen, and looked bored, ‘Three…
uh… Two… One.’
There was a faint popping sound as if someone had taken the top
off a ketchup bottle. And there was Kyle, slightly surprized with his
hair stood on end but otherwise on one piece.
George was just about to reach for the little beacon when there
was a sudden gust of wind out of nowhere. And another person
appeared next to George. She tumbled over and fell on top of him.
‘Shit!’
‘You look absolutely fine to me.’ George replied, ‘but if you
would get your elbow out of my stomach I would definitely appreciate
it.’
Samantha stepped back, ‘No! Please!’ But there was Bobby
Green, slightly annoyed and puzzled and with eyes flickering in that
way that very intelligent people’s sometimes do when they are
processing the observable facts extraordinarily fast.
‘Miss Parker, Miss Jenning; you might what to follow me please.
Bring your friends.’
Samantha turned to George who was being helped to his feet by
both a very flustered Prim and Sam Wright. George nodded, ‘What he
just said.’
The group went into the old shed. The same one that, from Prim’s
point of view, she would hop in and out of through time in her own
personal future. Right now, Bobby had decided the place and he was
very much in control.
‘You people are trespassing.’ he said reasonably, ‘You do know
that?’
‘Technically, it was not trespassing since we arrived here before
we knew there was a sign telling us that.’
‘There’s a sign?’ asked Sam.
‘Shut up’ said George, and to Bobby, ‘And you are?’
‘An employee of this… Base.’
‘Well Technically No.’ George was smiling, ‘I think that your
legal status as well as your presence here is just as questionable as
ours; is it not?’
‘No…..’ but Bobby was uncertain, ‘I saw what happened. I
saw…..’
‘You didn’t see anything Bobby. Please.’ Samantha stepped
forward.
Bobby turned to her, and as if he had noticed her for the first time
lifted his hand to touch her cheek.
‘Samantha?’ Prim said, ‘Where are we?’
‘The future.’ said Samantha, ‘It’s your future Prim. And you
better be ready…. Oh Prim…. I’m so sorry…. So very, very sorry. I
already know you see. What is going to happen.’
At that moment they all turned and there was a man that Sam and
George, and perhaps Samantha knew… but as yet this Primula did
not. He took one look at Bobby and pulled a gun on him.
‘No!!!’ shouted someone, probably George. And if then he was
fighting with Kyle. But Kyle’s instinctive reaction to hit someone
where it hurt came into play. The women backed off as Kyle elbowed
him low and hard. Bobby dropped to the floor and rolled and disarmed
the man all in one swift moment.
It took George, Kyle, and rather bewildered Sam to hold him
down while Bobby twisted the gun out of his hand.
‘I know you.’ said Bobby, ‘You’re…..’
‘No!’ Samantha shouted, ‘don’t say it. Please don’t….’
‘Alex Rimmington.’ said Bobby.
Samantha hunched, backed away. Primula, round eyed stayed
close. She seemed to know that something had gone wrong with the
experiment. They were from all different parts of the timeline. Cause
and effect were like sorry cousins who did not communicate their
intentions well.
‘Well! This is amusing. Do get off!! You bested me gentlemen.
Can’t you at least let me stand?’ He struggled to his feet as George
loosened his grip. Bobby had the gun.
‘Talk.’ said George. It was hard, cold and uncompromising.
‘I see you have picked up the stragglers.’ He looked towards
Samantha and Prim.
‘No.’ said Primula, ‘I think that you are the straggler, as you put
it.’
‘Miss Jenson, You are mistaken. I never intended to permanently
disfigure your little amour. Oh! You didn’t know?’ the last remark
was aimed as Samantha who remained unmoved now Bobby was out
of danger. Primula shifted uncomfortably and stared at Samantha
pleadingly. Bobby looked from one to the other in a startled kind of
way.
‘This is all very entertaining, but tell us your intentions?’ George
said, ‘That is before I get my assistant to knock you out.’ he indicated
Sam. Sam stood very still with a strange undefined neutrality.
‘I don’t have information about the past.’ he said, ‘I can’t find the
point of inception.’
‘He’s lying.’ said Prim.
‘Do go on.’ Samantha said.
‘I am from a future that you will never see. It doesn’t exist like
these time periods. We are whatever you make us. We are the sum of
all the possibilities. And in answer to your unspoken question; No, I
cannot go back. It is impossible. And that is why I am trying to stop
what is happening. I want to put it right.’
‘You do?’ said George.
‘Now wait a minute,’ Kyle began, ‘it simply cannot be
extrapolated like that….’
‘Your friend is right…. but only up to a point. And we all know
what happens next…?’
‘No Shit!’ Sam growled.
‘I would reign in that temper Mr Wright. It will get you into
trouble.’
‘That’s is rubbish! I….’
‘And Samantha….. All the romance one could wish for. Tragedy
and comedy in the same episode of life. There is so much promise
with so little return.’
Kyle half turned. He saw the light go out of her eyes. She looked
down.
‘Let him go.’ said George. ‘We cannot touch him. And he knows
it.’
‘Because?’ asked Kyle.
‘Consequence.’ George said.
‘The gun?’ Bobby was still holding it.
‘Let him have it back.’
Bobby held it out to Rimmington; palm down. Rimmington took
it carefully, ‘Always the gentleman Bobby.’ He quickly turned and
left the large shed. Samantha ran to the door just has he disappeared
through it. She pulled it back. But there was no one there.
*****
Chapter Twelve
When We Knew What Love Was.
The small group of unlikely comrades sat round the campfire that
George and Kyle had helpfully set going. They were in a dark
woodland to the north of the Sheffield Base. Samantha had started to
build a shelter with Bobby helping her. Prim sat with her knees drawn
up staring into the flames. She spun the bracelet round on her wrist
and watched the firelight flicker into the night and some curls of
smoke rise into the fine clear sky. She glanced at Bobby and then
back, hunching her shoulders a little more. George knelt down beside
her.
‘You can stay here with us. You need to let it wear off. You may
be alright to travel again by tomorrow.’
‘I was just leaving,’ she said, ‘I’d finished my shift.’
‘Who gave you the bracelet?’ George asked softly.
Primula looked at him startled, ‘That’s supposed to be classified.’
‘We are from your future. And we do already know about the
bracelets.’
‘Oh…’ she stared at the fire again, then frowned and drew a
breath, ‘So you know what happens to me?’
‘No,’ George sat back and rubbed his eyes, ‘I don’t know that.
You are someone who we just met. It seems that you are quite the
guardian angel.’
‘Who? Me? I hardly think…’
‘I think,’ said George. ‘You are perhaps fortunate. There is
something afoot at the Base as you knew it two years ago. But tonight
is the night that something crucially important happens. We need to
look forward a little. It is all fluid you see. And You, Bobby and
Samantha are tied up in the whole thing.’
‘I know that I was pulled in by a stronger force. You know what
happens to other people? So what happens to them? And don’t give
me any bullshit about it being liable to cause paradox or any other
such nonsense. I really cannot do anything with so little information.’
‘My price is the entry codes into the computer system.’ George
seemed relaxed and poked the turf near the fire with his foot.’
‘Where is your other friend?’ asked Prim, perhaps as a way of
avoiding the answer to the question that she must inevitably give.
‘Very well,’ said George, ‘but on one condition.’
‘As you wish.’
‘You tell us…. erm what happened on the 6th of May?’
‘You don’t need anything else? That’s it? What year are you
suggesting I comment on?’
‘From your point of view….. as in this morning; five months ago.
There was someone who made a breakthrough. Who was it?’
‘You know I cannot tell you that.’ she said breathlessly.
‘Ah….’ George looked up thoughtfully, ‘Then I will have to put
my almost famous powers of deduction to work. Mmm…..Yes…’
‘Are you always like this?’
‘Pretty much.’ he said and smiled, ‘I think it’s called “Flippant”
by some; and “Annoying” by others.’
‘That would be teeth achingly irritating.’ said Sam who had just
returned, ‘There’s no one about. I think it better we wait until after
Nine before going back to the hotel.’
‘You have a Hotel room?’ Primula stared very hard at Sam, and
then turned to George, ‘Why are we sitting in a field?’
‘Forest.’ he corrected, ‘Patience dear Lady; we need to see if what
we think happens, does in fact happen. And someone has to stay here
to keep a lookout.’
‘And you are looking for what exactly?’
‘An event that turns the course of history in this place. Of course
if you let us have those codes…. Well, we could do this all from the
comfort of a nice warm chair. Free Wi-Fi and all that.’
‘Your little friend?’
‘My Friend,’ said George ‘has considerable powers of insight at
his disposal. Sam here is the muscle, for the time being anyway.’
‘So what does that make you?’
‘I’m a Doctor.’ George smiled engagingly, ‘Sworn to protect life.
So any ethical dilemmas; I ask my friends to help me.’
‘I see,’ said Prim as Sam sat down listening, ‘You get them to do
your dirty work?’
‘Yes. It is laundry day on Thursdays. In return I supply a
wonderful place to stay, and a well-stocked fridge.’
‘It sounds like heaven.’
‘It would be if the parking wasn’t so terrible!’
Primula laughed and then sighed, ‘I guess I will go back
tomorrow. But now I know all this…. I suppose we are destined to
meet again?’
‘Indeed,’ said George, ‘There are after all consequences to
everything.’
‘I see.’ she said and lapsed into silence. George turned away as
Samantha beckoned Sam and George forward.
‘Okay Parker, amaze me.’ George rolled his eyes.
‘There is something to be said for being a Girl Scout. But I rather
thought you were interested in the view?’
‘Ah!’
‘What is it?’ Prim jumped to her feet.
‘Shush now.’ said Kyle who had just come back from round a
tree. George glanced at him and then took out his binoculars.
Bobby and Samantha exchanged a glance. George handed
Samantha the glasses, as Prim came and stood with the group. Bobby
seemed a little uneasy. It was after all, not your usual evening out.
From his point of view this was all so sudden and he had to catch up
fast. As much as the facts were fine to assimilate, the implication of
Rimmington’s words had not been lost on him. He had always liked
Prim… one might even say he loved her… as a friend; but then again
maybe as more than that. But there was always Samantha - the sweet
and brilliant girl. She had dazzled him; and like a rabbit in headlights
he would come if she called. Perhaps it was because of Addison that
Bobby had never got together with Prim. Dark-haired lovely Primula;
the girl with golden eyes. That was what he thought of her. But she
seemed to always be shifting into another gear. Always in an on/off
thing with Jeremy… the site comedian Addison that is; Doctor on site,
first aider attracted to Ladies of certain proportions. With Parker and
himself getting along so famously, well, it was only natural they
should go out to the pictures together. And that Prim would sit and be
regaled by Jeremy Addison about the merits of new technology and its
domestic applications. He stole glances with her though. She smiled
back often, but of late there was something of her missing, a certain
something that unless you have known someone for a long time you
would not pick up on it.
Of course, now he saw why she seemed so sad. There had not
been a place where they could be friends, and this….this thing that
was happening right now. What did she know from this?
If Parker was perturbed by this, she certainly wasn’t showing it
right now, and had regained her composure. In fact, so much so that
Kyle was forced to conclude that she was the finest woman he had
ever met. He did not share Bobby’s indecision on the matter.
Samantha was great! And therefore wholly desirable. She would not
let him in easily….what he had to do was to use his intellect to do
it…. a challenge and a provocation of an exotic kind.
So within the boundaries of what was, and what could be the
disparate group bound temporarily together by a common purpose was
intent on one thing.... the movement in the distance in the dim halflight of a strange misshapen moon; neither crescent nor full.
It was Bobby who pointed. Sam mouthed wordlessly to George
'It's her.' what was meant by that... who could say, as the person they
saw was a man. And to judge by his furtive approach was intent on
some mischief. George naturally was attentive to Sam's exclamation.
They had a low worded conversation while the others watched the
man make his way to the fence of the outer edge that marked the base.
Graydore was officially at last a purely medical research facility. The
fact of such sneakiness confirmed George’s worst suspicions; that
they had found the source of a Time Anomaly and would soon be in
danger of affecting their own future, if they didn’t, as Kyle put it most
succinctly "Got the Hell out of here."
'Shut up.' said George irritably, 'Let’s see where he goes first.'
Bobby was very still. Perhaps he knew that something that the
other Prim knew. Perhaps he wasn't quite what he appeared to be, this
young policeman. A Man of Honour certainly, amongst Men of Straw
but did he know as the other Prim had known when she looked at him,
that his fate was along different paths this night.
Bobby started to walk forward. Sam clenched his fists to stop
himself from interfering. Kyle said 'Hey! I say...' and was silenced by
George with a gentle hand on his arm and a look that Kyle had not
seen before.
'What time is it?' Prim asked.
'Midnight.' said George, 'Hush now.'
So they watched this game play out. Whatever Samantha felt, she
stood still as a statue and if the light could have shown it the colour
had left her face. She knew that fate was dealing the hand it must.
Without interference…. or perhaps they needed to observe this time,
so they could come back again. It was as Samantha had told them. The
board was set and the players were in place and the Samantha who
would interact with Joseph Drucker in a few hours’ time was presently
at home. Here was the precursor to those fateful events. Someone was
putting the other pieces in place. Only Bobby could tell them who, as
he was in his own time, and therefore not liable to cause a paradox
event.
A short while later a strange noise was heard: a muffled sound. It
was neither human nor animal, or so it seemed. Samantha looked
down, maybe she knew. Then a light flared briefly in the sky and died
like a firework.
'We need that passcode.' said George, 'Now.'
'We are too far away.' Parker said,
'It’s not a problem.' Kyle unfolded his laptop, 'Just trust me.'
Samantha Parker turned to him as if she had only just seen him.
Doubt flared in her eyes and then died. She sighed in a shuddering
way and went and knelt on the ground next to Kyle. She whispered in
his ear. Kyle's fingers moved over the keyboard.
There was a pause. The breeze stilled and a cloud skidded across
the odd halfway moon.
Suddenly; like the jarring jolt of a sudden fall on a step you did
not expect there was a scream in the night. Most of the group flinched.
George didn't do so but put the night sight binoculars to his eyes and
carefully twisted the bezel.
'Where's Bobby?' Primula asked.
'How we doing Kyle?' George said, 'Are you in there yet?'
'You bet, Big Guy. I'm just copying the files now.'
'Great.' muttered Samantha.
'What is Bobby doing?' said Prim, her voice rising, 'I thought he
would be back in a minute.'
Samantha looked at her and then looked away.
'What was that?' Prim asked, 'Tell me!'
They all looked at her, but said nothing.
'What is the matter with you all?' her voice was wavering now,
'Why don't you answer me?' she turned to Samantha, who rejected her
with a stony stare.
'Please..... Sam. Please tell me?' she was almost crying, it was
pitiful to see. George put his glasses away. They all knew the danger.
No one spoke.
'Well I'm going.' Prim said, 'You are all just awful. I don't know
what has happened to poor Bobby.... but you are all just despicable!'
With a shake of her head and half tripping over the low bushes she
shakily made her way to the other edge of the coppice. She turned
defiantly 'And by the way!" she shouted, 'It was Jeremy who gave me
the bracelet! For all the good it’s doing I might as well have not
bothered!' and with that she turned and made her way across the dimly
lit rough grass.
George let out a breath he must have been holding and everyone
shifted their position. Samantha ran her hands through her hair; 'Do
you think that she’ll come back here? The future version of herself I
mean?'
'I'm counting on it.' said George darkly. Sure enough, as they
focused on the edge of the distant dark perimeter a figure detached
itself and rather haphazardly made its way towards them. The person
moved quite slowly and stopped several times. No one spoke until
Kyle moved and folded his laptop down, 'Nailed it Boss.' He said and
was already stuffing the rugged kit into his backpack.
'Is it Prim?' Samantha asked.
'Yes.' said George softly, 'Let’s get out of here sharpish as soon as
we know if she is the right one.'
'Roughly parallel to my event line.' said Samantha as Sam Wright
made a helpless gesture of unknowingness.
'Parker?' it was Prim. She stumbled into their little hiding place,
and they gestured that she follow them. This Prim was well informed
and aware. She had remembered and then made her way back in the
almost dark, two years to the day that she first was here, when her past
self was yanked into the events of the day. She was a witness, and she
was running. Samantha was her friend and they would help each other
without need for words.
Samantha gently laid her hands on Prim’s shoulders, almost as if
she was afraid of Prim not recognising her.
‘He’s gone….’ Prim choked it out, ‘I want to go back…. But I
cannot, Samantha…. It wasn’t what it seemed…’
Samantha hugged her friend Prim. Prim was shivering with shock;
but at what? No one had time to ask her right now.
‘Move!’ George barked. They turned and ran. Suddenly Kyle
raced past them despite his cumbersome bag. The reason becoming
clear; Sam glanced back and gasped. Soldiers, armed heavily. They
accelerated.
Ten minutes later the small company were crouched, half gasping
in a hollow.
‘What now?’ Sam looked at his watch and then at George.
‘We have to use the bracelets.’
‘No.’ said Sam, ‘I don’t want to be teleported.’
‘I have a spare here.’ said George, ‘I rigged it to create a chain
reaction. We will all end up back at…. Well not here at any rate.’
‘Err…. George.’ Kyle said peering round a tree, ‘The time would
be now!’
‘In a circle. And join hands.’ George ordered, ‘Sam!’
Sam obeyed and gripped Parker and Prim. The others followed
suit.
‘Does it hurt?’ Sam asked.
‘Shut up!’ George and Kyle snapped.
‘They’re coming!’ Parker cried and then was silenced by the
tearing ripple of a sudden and grinding time warp.
It was horribly uncomfortable. They were all joined together as by
a powerful magnet. Sam was struggling. Prim and Parker both
squeezed his hands rather sharply. Sam would have yelped if the air in
his lungs had not been squeezed out by the tearing air. But then quite
suddenly there was silence. The light was golden: a sunset in the room
at the hotel. It was Samantha who moved first. She stood and then
threw her head back and howled in pain. The vision had connected all
of them; but perhaps they did not see it clearly. But Samantha was
used to these things and perhaps she saw more than the others.
‘I’m sorry….’ Prim was on her knees, ‘I couldn’t help him. He’s
hurt…. It’s my fault.’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ said Kyle in a weirdly calm voice. His
expression was wide eyed and bright as if he had quite suddenly found
a deeper insight into all these things. The wonder of time…. he looked
into Samantha’s eyes, ‘I see it now.’ he said.
‘Can you break in?’ Parker asked.
‘Yes…. yes I can. I believe I see what has happened.’ Kyle put his
hand on his messenger bag, ‘I know it now.’ He turned and went into
the dining area, still in that tranced and spacey state and reverently
took out his laptop. George turned towards the kitchen and busied
himself with some serious tea making. Sam seemed torn between poor
broken-hearted Prim and seeing what Samantha and Kyle had found
on the files.
‘He’s gone.’ said Prim and burst into tears.
Sam sat down, ‘I don’t know what I saw but…. Well perhaps it’s
not what it seems…’
‘Don’t you see!’ Prim cried out, roused to angry pain, ‘They are
killing him. They are taking his soul! I saw it! It was him….. his
copy…..’ she ended in incoherent whimpers. Sam, not used to the
emotions of anyone expressed in a serious and obvious way was taken
aback by the intensity of it.
‘I am truly sorry….Miss Primula. I mean…. It was what?’
‘Bobby….’ she said, ‘They sent a copy of Bobby to kill me: my
Avatar, the one who was protecting Samantha in your time.’
‘The old woman?’
‘I wasn’t that old.’ she smiled a little then in spite of herself, ‘I
had to help Sam, my Samantha I mean…. Because of the other…’ she
stared at Sam in sudden shock, ‘I mean….’
‘The other?’ Sam was on surer ground, sensing something. But
Prim just shook her head. Sam looked toward the small kitchen
wondering where George had got to.
George was muttering to himself and pulling the milk out of the
fridge with a determined grip.
‘So tell me where we are?’ Sam caught George’s eye.
‘In the poo poo,’ George retorted ‘unless I am right of course and
Kyle can fix us up with some hard evidence.’
‘Evidence of what?’
‘Experiments in time. The point of insertion of a Paradox event so
great that all these other little intrigues with become null in the face of
it.’
‘What about Juliet?’ Sam grimaced.
‘She is at the centre of the paradox. And in a unique position
potentially.’
‘Right. That’s it. Make with the facts George before I get lost in
your philosophy or run out of patience or both.’
‘Copies; Avatars Sam. They take a person and put them into one.
But the person doesn’t know they are inside the Avatar. They think
they are themselves. They act and think and look as if they are just
doing what they are doing.’
‘And what is that?’
‘Do think Sam! What is the last thing that Juliet said to you?’
‘I err…. I can’t remember…. I think we… talked and she said….’
‘Precisely.’
‘What?’ Sam shook his head, ‘I mean what the fuck are you
talking about?’
‘You cannot remember. You don’t remember the last thing that
the love of your life said to you…? Not likely is it?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘You are never “not sure”. This is about memory. We have to
forget for the thing to work. Time mended in a messy way, because
they didn’t have the time to do it properly. It was hurried; and
unprofessional. The question is why? And why am I being made to
believe that the one who lost his memory has the answer?’
‘Because he does?’
‘No! Don’t you see? Misdirection. Mistake…. Again and again.
Do you remember what you had for breakfast?’
‘Not as such. But it was a long time ago.’
‘Granted. But do you know what happened ten years ago?’
Sam went very still. He looked down. ‘I don’t. Please.’
‘I need you to remember. Because it is a way of making you want
to forget an event that is so traumatic that it ensures that you will
choose to forget as much of it as possible.’
‘I wish I could.’
‘Of course you do.’ George sighed, ‘that is the point.’ They went
back into the sitting room and handed a cup to Prim. George went
through to see how Kyle was doing.
‘It’s been a bad day.’ said Prim.
‘Yes.’ Sam sipped his tea.
‘I know what it is that is troubling you,’ she said suddenly, ‘I saw
inside your mind.’
‘How is that possible?’
‘The boundaries blur when you time travel. It allows things to
flow into one another. That is why it is not a good idea to do it too
much.’
‘Oh.’
‘You love her.’
‘I don’t see….’
‘You love her. Just the way I loved Bobby. I never told him. I
never did Sam. And I regret it….. so much.’
‘You were in love with him?’ Sam was startled by so personal a
comment.
She sipped and seemed calmer now, ‘Yes, I was. And now I need
to tell him. He’s gone. I don’t know where they put him.’
‘But Bobby is alive Prim! I mean we saw him.’
‘Young Bobby?’ she stared, ‘Don’t you see how impossible that
would be. He wasn’t a Time Traveller. He was doing his job. You say
you saw him? Where was that?’
Sam told her. She was silent for several minutes, and then looked
up. ‘It must be nearby.’ she said at last.
‘What is?’
Primula put the cup down carefully, ‘Where he is now.’
‘In my time?’
‘Yes.’
Sam decided to leave it there for now. He took his tea to see what
Kyle had managed to do. They had got a big sheet of paper spread on
the dining table.
‘Wot! No computers?’
‘It isn’t all about pressing buttons dimwit.’ Kyle moved his pen
without looking up, ‘Unless you just want to create the impression
you’re a genius, instead of actually being one.’
‘Fine. So what have you found then?’
Kyle did look up then, ‘I think we are on the verge of finding out
that it all goes back to one point in time. And that is not far away. I
found that Henry was asked by none other than our Mr Charles….’
‘Who?’
‘The fruit loop who was conducting the time experiments last
year. Do keep up….. and he was working for… get this a small team
called “Nimbus”. Yes, I know. It’s like the renamed Nimbus project.
The umbrella organisation Project Bank is the corporate sponsor of
the University in London. We already knew that. But he thing we
didn’t know, the thing that until now defeated our ability to predict
what was happening was that it was all connected back to something
else….’ Kyle took deep breath.
‘It was part of the now defunct Graydore project in Sheffield. But
the time lag, as it were, allowed us to see it as being different. It a bit
like a plant from a bigger version of the same thing; as if the project is
having babies and each on is sent off in its own direction to do its own
thing. Each time it fails or goes wrong, sometimes for ordinary
reasons, they just set up another one.’
‘Like a hydra, lots of heads…’ George began.
‘Yes, I get it,’ said Sam, ‘but now what do we have?’
‘You need to see it not as now. As in the present we are from, but
as now in the time life of the project.’
‘What?’
‘It was run from somewhere in the future. That is to say that there
has to be a permanent link into the different Time frames. Not just a
small aperture…’
‘What?’
‘It would usually be a post box… sort of to send things through.
The reason why we had such trouble with Treacle, as he is called, is
that there is no Treacle.’
‘But….’ Sam loosened his already loose tie. ‘We met him. He’s
with the reporter….Jade Bergen; at our house.’
‘The reason,’ Kyle continued ‘why Samantha could not break the
Zebra file is because she wasn’t the one who encrypted it. It was using
an algorithm that only works backwards. It gets more and more simple
as time goes on. It was designed to be retrogressive.’
‘Why?’ asked Sam, ‘I am sure I will regret asking that.’
‘You might. But it had to be more complicated in the past; where
it was needed. It runs backwards you see. To the place it is needed.
Just like the Nimbus project itself.’
‘So what you are saying is that we are looking for the start of all
of this in the future?’
‘Looks liked it,’ said George who had been very still thinking, ‘It
all started next year…. Or the year after that, or the… well you get the
idea.’
‘Alright. I get it. But what about….. Joseph Drucker?’
‘Mmm….’ Kyle bent over the paper, ‘over to you Parker….’
Samantha pulled a face, ‘Joseph is not the man I thought he was.
But then we are all not what we think we are. So I suppose that is a
good as it’s going to get. I never want to be faced with that again. He
wasn’t himself. I guess that I was mistaken. Drucker was Drucker. But
the man I knew and respected was someone else. Someone who
thought they were Drucker. But they were not. The question of course
is Who invented the time machine?’
‘So who did invent it?’ asked George.
They all looked at each other. At that moment Prim came in. ‘I
think I might have something to say about that.’ she said.
The sun was going down as the sun often does. And on that day
that was still called today they waited. This time there would be no
mistake. Mr Charles was following orders. As he always said: He was
doing that for his own reasons. If it reason enough you want, then any
reason will do, but murder? That requires a different motivation.
Something that the real Drucker did not have the stomach for…. So
when Bobby came looking he overpowered him with the drug. By the
time Bobby was coming round he was neatly trussed up like a turkey
ready for the oven. At that moment Rimmington made his entrance.
He soaked up the adulation of his acolytes and it lifted his spirit so, to
see so many buzzing busily at his command. It was like power
steering, having all that at ones fingertips. So much for modern
technology. Yet in the past they had built great ships. The ancient
world just had so much more style…. But a liking for the comforts of
the modern world as you and I would understand it made certain that
he would reside in the 21st century as a general rule. That is why
George and his friends had come to conclusion that their arch enemy
was lurking somewhere near. They were not only right; they were spot
on.
Before the first light of dawn, they dragged the new machine out
onto the grass. The technical assistant was on hand. He held a stop
watch and clipboard on which were attached some notes: a simple
checklist to make the whole thing flight ready.
Over the dew soaked ground the two conspirators came. They
were, as they had intended to be, getting the jump on the scheduled
experiment. The time was tomorrow afternoon. And now they were
ready. The technicians followed their instructions to the letter. And so
as the first light came into the quadrangle the fizzing of the Time Flux
was heard. In an instant everything was changed. Something had gone
drastically wrong. Had they not taken something into account? Had
they not calibrated the capacity of the charge in the power packs
carefully?
Was
there
a
lack
of
conventional
rules to power the thing in the emergency situation? Not at all. This
was something else again. Another person…. A stowaway. One who
would wait for the right moment to rehearse their deep and abiding
dance to the fear they felt inside. This was the person who was now
being watched by Samantha Parker. And this was the test of her
resolve to try and find the end of the ball of wool. She feared the
answer yet she must know…. Was she the clone? Or was it the other?
Kyle held the scanner as they watch events unfold.
‘She doesn’t read like a skin job.’ said Kyle, and added quickly,
‘Neither do you.’
‘That’s alright. I know what you are all thinking. So I have a soul;
and I am not immune to sadness Kyle. I just always dreamed of
finding my family. I wanted so much to be not alone. It was a sad way
to grow up. I wanted to know who they were…. Really.’
‘You were adopted?’
‘Yes. But it was back in the bad old days. They said I had a
Brother but they wouldn’t say where.’
At that moment the ripple on the surface of Time itself travelled
towards them.
‘Bloody Hell!’ Kyle exclaimed, and scrambled to his feet. They
ran with the wave travelling over the ground towards them. It was a
trembling curtain of time.
‘Shit!’ Kyle dragged Samantha behind a low wall. The radiation
from the Time Flux travelled past them, the wall seemed to shield
them from it, and yet they felt the static prickle of electricity on their
forearms.
‘Goodness. I didn’t realise being a geek could be so energetic!’
‘I did do sports at school,’ said Kyle defensively, ‘I was actually
not bad.’
‘It’s not a crime to say you don’t know what is going on
sometimes.’
‘Fuck!’ said Kyle, ‘It’s playing silly buggers with the detector
rod.’
‘Is your language always this bad?’
‘Only on days when I’m trying to help save the world and history
as we know it.’
‘Okay then,’ she smiled, and her face fell, ‘Oh fuckarama!’
‘I thought that was my line.’ Kyle retorted and shook the rod
again as the display in the portable box reset itself.
‘No…. look.’ she pointed.
Coming towards them over the ground in smooth even strides was
the other “Samantha”.
‘Hello.’ she said as she came to them, ‘I suppose you’re
wondering what this is all about?’
‘Rather. Yes. Uh huh…’
‘You are not real Samantha. But I am. I know you are not really
going to understand the meaning of this but we will of course
terminate our experiment at our earliest convenience.’
‘I rather gather that will not be to my advantage.’ Samantha, feisty
as ever was trying to keep her talking while Kyle tried to get a fix on
her signature.
‘Point of origin.’ said Kyle, ‘Locked.’
‘Go for it.’ said George over the radio.
The signal abruptly cut was they locked on and were flashed
momentarily through the vortex.
‘Three weeks ago.’ said Samantha. ‘I know this time. I must not
meet myself…. Wait a minute, there is value in waiting for someone.
We might catch them red-handed.’
‘If it ends up us being turned into fish bait….’ said Kyle. This is
not good. Something’s not right.’
‘Look. There she is again.’
‘Who is that she is talking to?’
‘Addison. Shall I find out what he said?’ Kyle asked.
‘Jeremy?’ Samantha ducked down then as the other girl turned
towards their position, ‘Oh Shit! I gave him what she wanted….he
asked me. It was that morning, about the setting for the afternoon’s
trials. I gave him the corrections I had made….’
‘But he was part of it.’ Kyle was calm. He took a Dictaphone out
of his pocket, and plugging in a small microphone eased into above
their heads onto the wall. They listened.
‘He’s not the one.’ said Kyle at last. It’s just small talk…. Wait a
flipping minute! I know what he’s doing! He thinks she will give him
an alibi. He was…. Well!’
‘What?’ Sam said in a worried tone.
‘He was being a two timing rat! And the fact your double came to
visit him to talk was to give herself time to get into the place to where
the device was stored. Wait…. There’s more. He is giving her the pass
codes. Idiot! But then again the superficial resemblance might fool
some people.’
‘We look exactly the same.’ Samantha said darkly, ‘It’s obvious
he couldn’t tell the difference.’
‘So she got the info out of him?’
‘Dead right. Sweet smile and all that. Not like yours.’
‘Kyle?’
‘Yes?’
‘Save it.’
‘Huh; okay.’ Kyle fiddled with the small lever on the Dictaphone.
‘Shall we go? I think we get the picture.’ Sam stared at him
waiting for the go ahead. Kyle softly pocketed the recording device.
They stood as still as they dared behind the crumbling pile of rocks.
They joined hands and Kyle activated the return signal. The swift but
momentary blast of frigid air was the only discomfort in Time travel.
Well at least that is what they thought. The rudimentary understand of
those strange creatures: the Travellers, served more to confuse the
issue. Those were diverse in their application of the skill, and
geographically spread in a fashion not conducive to cataloguing the
people who possessed the key to cheat the world of its sweetness.
‘Report!!’ It was George shouting down the microphone, ‘Talk to
me!’
‘I’m here.’ Kyle shrugged and smiled at Samantha as he spoke.
‘I need you back here.’ George’s voice was tinny and strange but
that only served to underline his insistence.
‘What’s up?’
‘It’s Prim,’ George was blunt, ‘she’s sick. Back now.’
‘Righto.’ Kyle tightened his shoulder strap. He held out his hand
to Parker, ‘Better Boogie. I sense trouble.’
‘Just from that?’
‘George is never wrong.’ said Kyle, ‘We better be ready to leave
in a hurry.’
Back at the hotel, Prim was slugging whiskey and putting a damp
flannel to her head. She looked deathly pale. George shook his head.
Parker sat down next to her friend.
‘You can’t change true destiny…’ muttered Prim.
‘What?’ Parker shook her head, ‘Come on. We can find a way.’
‘No, no…. Sammy girl. I was protecting you and they killed me
for it. They used him….. Bobby I mean. They used him to make the
clones. He was their model, their first born… He was the one who was
fit enough…. That is what they thought that you need to be super fit.
But now they can clone anyone…..’
‘I know….’ Parker gazed into the distance.
‘You don’t see it Sammy girl. They will get rid of me. They will;
one way or another. I know why. I just don’t know how. But the thing
is… the real thing is…. You are not a copy of anyone. You are the
unfortunate victim of the most bizarre of coincidences…. You see it
don’t you? Do you see Sammy girl…’ she took another slug of the
whiskey.
‘How long has she been like that?’ Parker demanded.
‘Easy!’ said George, ‘It started just before you went on your
recce. I think it is something to do with the action of someone you
have just met. Did you interact with anyone?’
‘Samantha..; the other one....’ Parker began,
‘She’s tangled in this.’ said Kyle, ‘but I think we need to have a
word George?’ he stared at him pointedly.
‘Go ahead.’ Sam nodded towards the kitchen, ‘I’ll stay near the
Scotch;’ He grimaced and gave George and meaningful look, ‘just
making sure she doesn’t overdo it.’
‘Tell me.’ Kyle didn’t sit down.
‘It’s bad,’ said George, and there’s nothing I can do. Primula
Jenson doesn’t exist in this time stream. We’re in some sort of
parallel. I can’t tell is we have somehow nudged things the wrong way
by interacting with her; or… of we don’t interact with her it works out
really badly.’
‘She’s part of Parker’s timeline back at our place of origin
George. She cannot just cease to be…. That’s ludicrous.’
‘That is probably why she is so sick. Her whole existence is
preserved by the reality that she is touching. That’s us Kyle. But if we
take her with us…..’
‘I could create another paradox event.’ finished Kyle, ‘I get
what’s bothering you George, and we need to peel back the layers. We
cannot knowingly kill her. Press the kill switch as it were. After all,
isn’t she part of our destiny too?’
‘Not really.’ George sat down suddenly and Kyle followed, ‘It is
only a matter of time before the Company come after her. We cannot
of course let that happen. But the way they work is going to be stupid
in the extreme. They will try to eliminate her before she started
working on the project in the hope that it will eradicate the whole
experience. That’s it what Rimmington is doing. He actually believes
that the murder of an innocent woman will change things for the
better.’
‘And will it?’
‘It could actually solve the whole thing,’ said George coldly, ‘on
the other hand it could needlessly fuck up the timeline in a way that
causes a ripple into the future of epic proportions. It is the ambivalent
nature of all the people in this scenario.’
‘I’m guessing that Rimmington likes the terminal solution best?’
‘I think, yes.’ George lowered his voice, ‘we need to consider that
Miss Jenson is the answer to this whole thing….and that her
termination…..may actually be the answer.’ George straightened, ‘But
of course that may happen by accident, not design. She is a
complication in the plan of the movers and shakers and she isn’t about
to let go of the greatest thing of all.’
Kyle smiled, ‘Come on George, less of this drama. What is she?’
‘Did you look at your login in the kitchen? The time it appeared?
Did you check the other frames?’
‘Not as such…. I meant he whole thing switched so quickly.’
‘Someone did not what you to find ti out. They hit you on the
head. But I saw it.’
‘What?’
‘About Samantha.’
‘About Parker? I thought it was Prim?’
‘No, you Pillock! They are connected by more than just their
mutual passion for science. It was the amnesiac that gave me the
clue….. I talked to the doctors and they were trying to find out who he
was…. And they said…. If only we could find one of his close
relatives on our database….’
‘They are what?’ Kyle was round eyed, he reached for his bag.
George stopped him, ‘She must not know. They are actually related.
They were both adopted. They were a family Kyle. Prim is Samantha
Parker’s half-sister…. That is if my memory of genetics is up to
scratch.’
‘Same Mother, or same Father?’
‘Same Father…. different Mothers.’
‘What about the other Samantha?’
‘I think….’ George paused, ‘we might consider the obvious
option.’
‘They look like each other…..exactly….. That means they are
twins?’
George nodded once, ‘Now the machine.’ he pointed at Kyle’s
bag, ‘Two sisters; adopted separately….. Twins. Both renamed
Samantha….. What are the chances of that you might say? But two
different families with no connection…. Or so we thought. But I
believe that the thing was uncovered early on by the adoptive families
themselves. I think that the reason that there is a connection is because
someone who knew them both wanted there to be. I think that the
other Samantha is somehow of the conviction that they have cloned
her. She is therefore of the opinion that she is untouchable. If anyone
cops it, it will be the clone and not her. Of course she is wrong. But
that is what happens when you spend time around cruel and dishonest
people.’
‘Triple locked.’ said Kyle who was tapping away.
‘You become cruel and brutalised yourself. Parker is cold…. but
not that cold. And there is that marker Kyle.’
‘What marker?’
‘The Traveller’s signature.’
‘In who?’
‘Parker; Primula; and possibly the whole Green family.’
‘Whoa!! Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’
‘What am I saying?’
‘That they are all Travellers?’
‘Yes… but No. They are all related.’
‘And the greatest thing is what?’
‘Oh, so you were paying attention?’
‘Tell me George, before I get bored.’
‘She is probably the person who invented the time machine.’
‘Primula is?’
‘Yes.’
‘She invented it?’
‘Yes. She did.’
‘She didn’t get the credit though?’ Kyle prodded something and a
chart appeared on the screen.
‘No. Not in this reality. She was cheated. Someone cheated. And
they cheated her out of the most precious thing of all.’
‘He own life….’ finished Kyle.
‘Bobby Green’ said George.
‘Her invention.’ said Kyle.
‘A joint venture.’ said George.
‘With whom?’
George nodded towards the sitting room.
‘Parker?’
‘You really do have a problem with intelligent women.’
‘No.’ said Kyle, miffed.
‘Then get over it. I need you more than ever. Get the fucking blue
prints to the thing. I want everything, and I want it by 6am.’
‘What happens at six am?’
‘We go back to the future.’
‘With or without Primula?’
‘That is up to her.’
*****
Chapter Thirteen
The Effect of Gravity.
There are rules. Not many. But they are there. Rules for
Travellers. It is said that if you break the rules you will be punished by
those beings that inhabit the heavenly places. If only we could
measure our trouble in pounds and ounces? Well then it would be
something to sell off and burn. And like the remains of our tattered
consciences, we take the World to be on our side.
It isn’t.
And neither are most of the people in it.
That is a paranoid viewpoint…..
But, let’s face it; if you had the power to bend time to your will,
would you feel safer with some power brakes?
Travellers are dangerous, but so very, very superstitious. It’s what
keeps them safe. It is not a good thing to NOT know that you are in
that group. But then again, a little self-knowledge is a dangerous
thing.