The Trouble With Time (30 page)

Ryker sat up, bits of chicken falling out of his spring roll. He’d helped her steal the TiTrav, and now she was in bad trouble because of it. They’d have to rescue her, and that would be impossible now she was under arrest. When not escorted by police, time criminals were kept in cells with floor-to-ceiling metal rods every three feet, some with random jutting loops of steel. TiTravs were programmed not to time into places where there was insufficient clear space. Sufficient space was defined as 6 by 6 by 8 feet, and no oncoming obstructions such as a person, a drone or a truck. Okay, Ryker could adjust the safety parameters on the TiTrav, but he wouldn’t want to chance materializing and finding a metal rod through his body. Better to go back and pick her up before IEMA did.

He made himself go on eating though his appetite had gone – no sense in wasting food – and continued watching. What was Quinn playing at, pretending to be keen to get Floss released? He must be up to something . . . Nandita Rowe wound up the interview, and the programme changed to an item about humanoid robotics which, under normal circumstances, would have interested Ryker. He turned it off, put the cartons and the rest of the food in the bin, shrugged into his jacket and picked up his keys. Curtis joined him, tail wagging.

“It’s your lucky day, Curtis. An extra walk.”

They went into the pouring rain to summon Jace.

Almost hidden by dripping shrubbery was a missing bar in the railings, a convenient entrance to the park after hours. No one was out in this dismal weather – not that anyone round here cared what you did, but Ryker was habitually cautious. He ducked unobtrusively through the gap, followed by Curtis. They made their way to an overgrown statue of a dog, a memorial to someone’s long-dead pet. Ryker crouched round the back and moved a decaying branch. At the base of the statue’s plinth was a deep crack in the stone. Ryker drew out a diary, its covers buckling with the damp, turned to that day’s date, and wrote ‘9.20 pm’ on it before replacing the diary and the branch. He made his way back to the workshop, where Jace would now be waiting for him.

Saturday, 7
^th
May 2015

Jace said abruptly, “You have to come with me.” He was hardly looking at Floss; he was scanning the faces of the crowd, many of whom were giving him covert glances as they passed. “IEMA’s going to take you back to face trial, and I don’t know when they’ll pick you up.”

“Bloody hell.” Floss began scanning the sea of faces, too. “Just give me a minute.” She reached for her phone. “I’ll have to tell my mother I’m going.”

“No time.” Jace grabbed her hand, pulled her back along the platform, and round a corner to a relatively secluded staircase. “Hold on to me.”

As the world went black, Floss realized that in addition to greater problems, she was time travelling without a patch and would shortly be feeling very sick indeed.

Jace took Floss to Ryker’s first. The workshop appeared around them to a volley of furious barks from Curtis. Understandably, the dog really hated people materializing into his owner’s space. Floss dropped Jace’s arm and made a dash for the sink.

“Curtis!” Ryker put his Chinese meal down on the computer desk and swung his feet to the floor. Now Curtis was quiet, horrible noises from Floss in the kitchenette competed with the item on humanoid robotics Ryker had been watching. He turned it off. “What’s happening?”

“IEMA arrested Floss. You saw it on the news and sent me to pick her up before they did. I found her with Quinn.”

“
Quinn?
How did he get there?”

Jace shrugged. “Must have got his hands on a TiTrav. Perhaps a Department one.”

“What was he doing? Arresting her?”

“Don’t think so, they were having a drink. Champagne. Seemed more like he was chatting her up. Bastard just can’t help himself. I skulked round corners till she came out alone.”

Floss was now rinsing her mouth and gulping water. She joined them, her face pallid and sweaty. “He was doing the same as you. He came to warn me IEMA was going to arrest me.”

Jace said, “Then his warning didn’t work, or he was up to something. They did arrest you. Ryker saw it on the news today and sent me to get you. By collecting you, I’ve changed the timeline so that didn’t happen, and now he can’t remember it.”

Ryker grimaced. “I hate that. Makes me feel like I’m losing my marbles. Another time I’ll come with you.” He turned to Floss. “Have a seat. How are you feeling? Here, I know what you need.” He went to a cupboard and got out a bottle and three mismatched glasses, then poured three generous shots and handed them round. “Have some of Jace’s brandy.”

“Thanks.” Floss took the glass with shaky fingers. “I’ll feel better in a minute. I must tell you, you know future London with no people?” They nodded. “Quinn told me that doesn’t happen now. They defeated the contraceptive virus with my father’s samples.”

Jace wasn’t sure how he felt about this. The place where he’d spent five years of his life now only existed in all its intricate reality in his memory; the magical stuff as well as his grinding struggle to survive. He remembered the infinite stars on a clear night, man’s ugly buildings transformed to beauty by the plants which covered them, the tiger who brought her cubs to the pond that first year. He remembered the bitter cold in winter, his desperate stratagems to survive, the absolute loneliness. Quinn, Floss and Ryker had seen that future London, but they had been passing through. It belonged to him alone.

“So you saved the human race?” Ryker grinned at Floss. “Bet the buggers don’t thank you.”

Saturday, 7
^th
May 2015

Quinn had decided to go himself with the IEMA team detailed to pick up Floss. Normally Kayla would have dealt with it. They could only arrest her after her return from 2050, since she could not be taken into custody for a crime she had not yet committed. After his warning, she was surely bright enough to evade capture – but her arrest would not be disastrous in any case. He was in charge of the investigation, he could remove her phone and delete the photo. And without Jace to confirm her story, a jury was no more likely to believe her than Kayla had been. Another consideration; so far, he’d failed to make any headway with Floss; if she was once more out of her own time, isolated, incarcerated and facing trial, she might be more pleased to see him. Which ever way it went, Quinn was confident he would win.

After the fruitless trip to Cambridge, her home earlier in the evening was the next option. They materialized in a deserted dead end round the back of her building, then Quinn and two of the team went to her front door. A neighbour obligingly pressed the lock release to let them in, reassured by Quinn’s manner over the entry phone. At the top of the staircase was the duck-egg blue door to Floss’s flat. Quinn knocked, and when there was no answer, Farouk picked the lock.

The place was empty. Quinn looked around with interest; Floss’s flat, though small, was decorated and furnished with quirky charm, redolent of her personality. He could see why she’d been less than enthusiastic about the bland windowless apartment in 2050. Next, the team went to the flat a couple of weeks in the future, during the day. To his relief, everything was exactly the same, with the addition of a light film of dust. They enquired discreetly at her workplace; they searched her mother’s flat while she was out. They found no trace of Floss. The obvious conclusion was that she had not returned to 2015, and could be absolutely anywhere, any time.

Monday, June 13
^th
2050, evening

“What happens next?” Now Floss no longer felt queasy, she had leisure to contemplate her situation, and a pretty depressing one it was. She slumped in her seat. “I won’t be able to go back, will I – I’ve lost . . . everything. My job. My flat. My whole life.” Her eyes filled. Oh God, she was going to cry with self-pity.
Pull yourself together
. A tear spilled on to her cheek, and she brushed it away. Her lip trembled and she couldn’t stop it. Both men were looking apprehensively at her, which didn’t help.

“I can set you up with a chip,” Ryker volunteered. “If you want, you can work for me. Just for now. Go with Jace and keep an eye on him when I rent out the TiTrav.”

After a moment when it seemed he might protest, Jace said, “Great idea. I could do with someone to delegate stuff to. Be nice to have my own team again. I’ve got a spare room you can use – I’m renting a cottage on the Isle of Harris, in the Outer Hebrides. You’ll be safe there. Remote doesn’t get much remoter. Grass, sheep, boulders, sea, weather, and a bus once a day to the post office/café if you want a bit of excitement.”

Floss felt more dejected than ever. She didn’t want to go to the Outer Hebrides. Then she remembered Jace had already been through what she was experiencing now. He had not moaned. She hadn’t been sympathetic enough, she realized – and they had offered her somewhere to live and a job, of sorts, which was really nice of them. She gulped some brandy and forced a smile. “Thank you, that would be awesome.”

“Look on it like you’re taking a year out.”

“That’s right,” Ryker said. “Lots of things can happen in a year. You may get your old life back. You may find a new one you like better. We’ve got a time machine. That gives us options. There might come a time when you can go right back to where you left off, you never know.”

Jace said, “Yeah. Sometimes you’ve just got to go with the flow.”

Suddenly Floss felt happier. It could just be the brandy hitting her empty stomach, but things could be worse – much worse. She could be in jail. Maybe everything would work out. She smiled, a genuine smile, at the men’s attempts to rally her, and then smiled again at their look of relief. Raising her glass, she said, “To the future.”

Jace raised his. “And the past. And to possibilities. We’re like gods playing a game of chess, where any piece can be moved to any square, and any move taken back.”

Ryker grinned. “Here’s to making the most of it.”

Sunday, 8
^th
May 2015

Emma was washing up when she heard a noise coming from the living room. She paused, plate in hand, then Floss’s voice said, “Mum! Where are you?”

“Coming.” She wiped her hands and went into the living room. Floss was standing there grinning, wearing combat trousers and a vest top Emma hadn’t seen before, her hair in a plait down her back. Floss’s hair was blonder, her skin slightly golden from the sun; she looked well, bright-eyed and excited. She rushed up and gave her mother a quick hug.

“Where did you spring from?”

“2050. I’ve come to tell you some really important stuff, and to ask a favour.”

“Better sit down, then. Can I get you anything?”

“No thanks.” Floss sat on the sofa next to Emma. “First, now I’m in the future, here it’ll be like I’ve gone missing. I’m sorry, it’s going to be grim for you, with everyone sympathizing and the police investigating and everything. But you mustn’t worry, because I’m fine, alive and well, just thirty-five years ahead. And maybe the gone missing thing won’t even have to happen, because we might be able to sort things out so I can come back to the same time. But even if I can’t, I’ll still come and see you now and then, so you’ll know I’m all right.”

This was unwelcome news; a bit as if Floss was moving to Australia, but without email or telephones. Emma liked having her daughter living in the same city. But if it was to keep her safe . . .

Floss fished in her pocket and got out photos and bits of paper. She handed the photos over. Emma looked. The first showed a solidly-built man in his thirties sitting in a bar, astute blue eyes staring into the camera. At the top of the photo Floss had written: ANSEL QUINN – baddie. Floss handed her a second photo, of a dark-haired man wearing a piratical jacket and shirt: JACE CARNADY – goodie. Emma raised her eyebrows.

“Just in case either of them come calling. It’s really important not to trust Quinn, though he’s very persuasive and you’d probably like him.”

Emma nodded. “Who’s Jace?”

“He’s the guy I work with now.”

“He’s very good-looking. What’s the favour you wanted?”

Floss handed a piece of paper to Emma. On it was written next Wednesday’s date, and a string of numbers. Below that was a list of account details and passwords.

“Do the lottery with those numbers. You’ll win about one and a half million. Then you can pay off my mortgage for me.”

Emma nodded. “Okay.”

Floss screwed up her eyes. “It might be more complicated than that – I’m not too sure if they’ll let you do it or not. But you’ve got my keys, and can get into my laptop and use those passwords. If you can’t pay off the mortgage, then pay a chunk into my bank account so at least the monthly payments get made.”

“Leave it with me. Creditors generally don’t care who pays off a bill, and with that sort of money, if I have a problem I can get advice.”

“I knew you’d be able to sort it out. Keep an eye on the flat for me, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Emma looked fondly at her daughter. “What are you doing in your new life? Have you got friends, somewhere to live?”

Floss grinned. “I’ve got a team. At the moment I’m living in the Outer Hebrides with Jace.” She dug in her pocket, got out a handful of small cowrie shells in delicate shades of yellow and pink still trickling sand, and handed them to her mother. “I picked these up on the beach. We’re right next to it.” Out of another pocket she produced a new-fangled phone and brought up a photo of her and Jace and a lot of empty scenery.

Emma wondered if Floss was going out with this Jace . . .

Floss read her mind. “
Mu-um!
We just work together. He’s still got a thing going on about his ex. There’s Ryker too, you know, you met him. I’ve got a new job that I thought I wouldn’t like, so I put off coming to see you, but actually it’s great, sort of demanding, but interesting. Lots of time travelling. Jace is teaching me Krav Maga and how to shoot. Quite different from my proper job. I hope to come home eventually, but I’m looking on this as a sabbatical.”