Alex Scarrow - The Doomsday Code

‘Liam.’ Becks’s voice cut through his musings.

‘Uh?’

‘Liam, Bob and I have one remaining mission task.’

Liam looked at her, at Bob. ‘What now?’

Bob answered. ‘The Voynich Manuscript dates from this time. It has yet to be written.’

‘We have to write it,’ said Becks.

His jaw sagged open. ‘Hold on! Are you — you’re saying this Voynich thing was …?’

‘Was originally written by us?’ Becks nodded. ‘Yes. It was written by us to ensure we visited this time, this place.’

Liam frowned, trying to put the circular logic together. ‘But does that mean we’ve been here before ?’ He scratched at his temple where a thin plume of grey hair grew.

‘It could mean that at some point in time one or more of us has been here before to seed the Voynich Manuscript,’ said Bob.

‘You mean one of us will come here?’

‘Correct. Since we have no knowledge of it, this has yet to happen.’

‘But … but that means deliberately altering history, right? The very thing we’re supposed to be preventing ?’ His brows knitted with confusion. ‘Hang on! Does that mean those clues that the Adam fella spotted …?’

‘Those are clues that were deliberately seeded to ensure Adam Lewis alone was able to identify and decode a specific portion of the Voynich Manuscript … in order to flag our attention,’ said Bob.

‘That is now no longer required,’ Becks continued. ‘The Voynich Manuscript must be written without those coded flags.’

‘Uh? But …?’

‘We no longer need to be alerted and brought to this place,’ said Bob. He turned to Becks. ‘This is also your conclusion?’

She nodded. ‘I concur. History is corrected. It is now an unacceptable historical contaminant for any of the Voynich to be translated.’

‘So … what’re you going to write?’ asked Liam.

‘I have detailed visual records of the document. I can duplicate it as it was, but without the South American characters that originally flagged Adam Lewis’s attention.’

‘So that means — ’ Liam frowned as he worked the logic through — ‘he’ll have never known about us?’

‘Affirmative. And, of course, never have tracked us down to New York.’

‘Right.’ He looked across at Cabot, sitting on a wooden bucket, looking almost as bemused at the exchange as Liam felt. ‘And what about our good friend here, Mr Cabot?’

Cabot smiled. ‘Aye. I was wondering when ye would be considering me.’

Both Becks and Bob looked at him dispassionately.

‘No!’ said Liam. ‘You’re not going to kill him, so help me! We couldn’t have fixed this all up without the fella’s help. You’re not going to hurt him — and that’s an order to both of you!’

Both support units calmly nodded. ‘Termination in this instance will not be necessary,’ said Bob. ‘Cabot is required to ensure the safekeeping of the document.’

‘Agreed,’ said Becks. ‘So long as you do not speak of all the things you have seen,’ she said, looking at Cabot pointedly. Liam realized she was right. The old man had gone through with her to the twenty-first century. God knows what he must have seen. But then Liam imagined little of what he saw must have made sense, little of what he saw and heard could be of any use to him.

Cabot scratched his beard. ‘And who would believe what I have seen? They will call me a fool.’

‘She’s right,’ said Liam. ‘We still need you to mind the Voynich Manuscript. It has to stay with you alone. You can’t tell anyone about any of this.’

‘Fear not, Liam,’ he laughed gently, ‘I have no desire to be burned as a heretic. I will not talk of round worlds, or days yet to be, or a place called “New” York. Ye can trust in that. ’

Liam smiled and offered his hand. ‘It’s a deal, then, Mr Cabot.’

He grasped it. ‘A deal , Liam of Connor.’

Becks and Bob both stood up at the same time. Liam guessed they must have been quietly exchanging data. ‘You two all right?’

‘We should proceed with creating the Voynich Manuscript,’ said Becks. ‘It is two hundred and thirty-four pages of manuscript and will require approximately seven hours to duplicate.’ She turned to Cabot. ‘I will require parchment and ink. Do you have these things?’

Cabot nodded. ‘We have. The priory’s librarian will not be a happy man … but I shall see to it.’

‘Thanks,’ said Liam. The three of them watched the old man go. ‘We can trust him,’ he said.

‘We know where to locate him if a contamination originates from this point,’ said Bob.

‘He is an acceptable risk,’ said Becks. ‘And terminating him would be simple.’

Liam shook his head at them. ‘You really do make a charming couple, so you do.’

They both looked at each other, then back at him. ‘Please explain.’

Liam waved that away. ‘Never mind.’

2001, New York

‘Yeah, the film poster’s gone,’ said Sal, standing outside the Golden Screen cinema and studying the billboards. ‘What’s that?’ she said into her cell phone. Several yellow taxis lined up on the far side of 7th Avenue were honking at a delivery truck backing into a side road.

‘Yeah, I’m positive! No sign of it. Nothing on the “coming soon” list. It’s gone.’

She nodded several times at Maddy’s instructions, then hung up. She looked around. This was Tuesday morning as she knew it; she was out and about a little earlier than normal, but it all looked as she expected it to look.

Times Square hummed with life, the sky a deep welcoming blue and no sign of this movie The Manuscript . It was gone. The tiny ripple they’d felt just half an hour ago had been Adam Lewis’s claim to fame being subtly erased from history.

No film starring Leonardo DiCaprio on the run from sinister agents and clutching an ancient-looking scroll in one fist.

She suddenly felt a rumble in her stomach and realized she hadn’t eaten a thing since yesterday lunchtime. She checked her watch. It was 7.23 a.m. An hour and twenty-two minutes to go until Tuesday turned into its regularly scheduled horror show. Time enough to go for a bottle of soda and a cream — cheese bagel.

Maddy tapped her phone and put it down on the desk. ‘It’s gone, Adam,’ she said. ‘The movie about you and the Voynich, well … it never happened.’

He ran a hand through his hair. ‘What does that mean, though? Have I been deleted from the world or something?’ His eyes widened with a horrible thought. ‘Oh God, is there another different me out there somewhere?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No … it’s OK. Just the one you. But your life’s a different one now, that’s all. If the wave had come while you’d been standing outside, you wouldn’t know any different. You’d be off living that life, wherever it is. But because you were inside our field, it means you’ve got to go out and track your new life down, find out what it is … where it is.’

‘I — that’s — you telling me I might not be living in New York any more?’

Maddy shrugged. ‘I dunno. You could be. You might be living back in England. Who knows?’

He pulled his apartment key out of his jacket pocket. ‘You’re saying if I go back to my apartment, it might not be mine?’

‘I’ve no idea. Probably not.’

He looked like he was struggling with the idea of that.

‘Your life is probably going to be very different, Adam. You should go and find out what it is. Maybe call your mom and dad — you’ve got parents, right?’

He shrugged. ‘I did. God knows if I do now.’