Alex Scarrow - Time Riders

‘My head? My head actually… actually beneath thewater?’

‘Yes, head beneath the water.’

‘What if… what if I’m not actually completely under? Would that sort of do, Mr Foster? If I could just keep my face — ’

‘No. You need to be entirely within the water. Every bit of you. The field scanner willdetect if part of you is poking out and the launch will abort for safety reasons.’

‘And?’

‘And I’ll be very annoyed and we’ll have to try again.’

‘Oh.’

‘Information: ten seconds until launch,’ announced Bob.

Liam felt his breathing coming out in short nervous gasps. ‘I… I… I’mnot sure I can go through with this. I really — ’

‘You just hold your breath and let go of the side, Liam. Nothing to it.’

‘Information: five seconds until launch.’

‘No, seriously, Mr Foster… I… I really — ’

‘Bob,’ said Foster, ‘pull Liam under.’

The clone reached out a big hand and a second later Liam found himselfbeneath the surface with a mouthful of water, floundering and thrashing in a blind panic.

Sal’s mobile phone vibrated.

She pulled it out of her pocket and grimaced at the sight of the old-fashioned handset, anugly slab of shiny black plastic with the letters N-O-K-I-A stencilled at the top. Nothinglike the cool Earbud V3 mobile she used to own back in 2026. Shefelt embarrassed pulling this museum piece out of her pocket and self-conscious holding it upto her ear, until it occurred to her that everyone else’s mobile phones in 2001 lookedequally embarrassing.

She thumbed a button.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s Maddy. They went into the past about a minute ago. Where are younow?’

Sal looked around. She was on Broadway, heading north, just passing the intersection withWest 41st Street. ‘I’m approaching Times Square, I think… yeah, I see it upahead.’

‘So you… uh… you see anything weird yet?’

She shrugged. ‘Not really. It’s just like it looked last time I walked over here.Same sunny day, same people, same traffic.’

‘Hmm,’ replied Maddy, ‘not really sure what I’m meant to be doingback here. I’m looking at the Internet, the news pages and stuff. But I don’t knowwhat I’m looking for.’

Sal laughed nervously. ‘Me neither. I’m just taking a nice walk in the sun, Isuppose.’

‘And I’m just sitting here like an idiot, looking at a bank of monitors. You OK,Sal?’

It was a busy Monday morning. With the morning rush over and the commuters all tucked away intheir high-rise offices, it was mainly clusters of tourists, families and groups of friendstaking in the sights of the Big Apple.

Sal sighed. Some company would’ve been nice. Last time she’dstrolled this route a couple of bubble -days ago, Bob had been sentalong with her to get some more experience at passing as human. With his lumbering seven-footframe beside her, every inch racked with bulging muscle, she’d felt somewhat moreself-assured, accompanied by her own pet superhero bodyguard.

‘I guess I’m OK.’

1963, Dallas, Texas

Liam landed heavily amid a tumbling cascade of water, splashing noisily as if abath tub had been emptied from the top of a short ladder.

He looked up and saw Foster on one side and Bob on the other, both on their hands and kneesin a large puddle that spread out swiftly. He looked around. He could see vehicles parked on atarmac area. They looked less modern, more angular than the cars he was used to seeing everyday in New York.

Bob was the first to his feet. He held out a hand each to Liam and Foster.

‘I help you,’ he rumbled.

Liam grabbed the hand and pulled himself up.

‘We need clothes quickly,’ said Foster, ‘before we attract any attention toourselves.’

Between a pick-up truck and a dusty-looking car there was a double door with a sign on it: BOOK DEPOSITORY — TRADE ENTRANCE ONLY.

‘In there,’ said Foster, ‘is a locker room. We’ll find some clotheson pegs.’

‘You sure?’

Foster grinned. ‘I’ve done this training trip a few times now.’

‘What if there are people in there?’ asked Liam, his hands hoveringself-consciously to cover his soaking underpants.

‘There aren’t. They’re all at the front of the buildingtrying to get a glimpse of the president’s limousine. It’ll be arriving in a fewminutes.’

Foster led the way across the parking area and pushed through the double doors. Inside, outof the bright morning sunlight, it was dim and smelled fusty from the stacks of schooltextbooks littering the floor in untidy piles.

‘To your right,’ said Foster.

They turned into a room lined with employee lockers and pegs on the wall opposite. At the endwas a lost-property box stuffed with odds and sods left over the years. Between them theyfound enough items of clothing to dress all three of them — although the only items thatcame close to fitting Bob were a pair of sandals, which his large toes drooped over the endof, and a set of scruffy navy blue overalls.

‘We look like three tramps,’ said Liam.

‘Perfect,’ said Foster, ‘no one’ll think twice about us.’

‘Mr Foster,’ said Liam quietly, ‘what’s about to happen?’

Foster turned to the support unit. ‘Tell Liam.’

Bob mentally extracted the relevant file from his recently installed database.‘Information: in precisely five minutes, thirty-two seconds, the thirty-fifth presidentof the United States of America, John F. Kennedy, will suffer a point-forty-one calibreprojectile impact to the throat, and a second to the top of the cranium, ejectingapproximately twenty-five per cent of his brain tissue.’

‘The man’s killed ?’

Foster looked at him. ‘Have a guess.’

‘And what? We’re going to stop thishappening?’

Foster shrugged. ‘More like… delay it.’

2001, NewYork

Sal looked around Times Square. This was probably the eleventh or twelfth timeshe’d taken a walk up from Brooklyn across the Williamsburg Bridge, along Broadway tothe hub of the city teeming with endless life. There were so many things to observe in thisplace — so much going on. She honestly didn’t understand how she was supposed toremember every little detail here, how she was supposed to know exactly what should happen inthis thoroughfare from moment to moment at this time of day.

Her eyes scanned the major billboards. There was a giant display of a jolly green ogre andthe title SHREK above his head, and another board with some hairyblue monster and a little green ball-like creature beside him entitled Monsters Inc . Further along she saw a poster for the stage performance of somethingcalled Mamma Mia .

Then, with something that felt like a reassuring stroke of deja vu, Sal spotted theyoung mother in the red jeans pushing a buggy before her, across a pedestrian crossing.

Oh, that’s right… s he’llhave to stop and pick up a soft toy.

A moment later she did, bending down irritably for it in the middle of the crossing andhanding it back to a pair of chubby hands reaching out desperately from the buggy’sseat.

That was a weird sensation.

She smiled.

‘Wow,’ she muttered, pleased with herself, ‘I just predicted thefuture.’

1963, Dallas,Texas

‘Up these stairs, one more flight to go,’ Foster wheezed.

Liam looked across the stairwell, through an open office door. He could see desks andbookshelves and filing cabinets left deserted. Crowded around every front window was a crushof office ladies in floral print dresses, sporting beehive hairdos, eagerly peering out.

‘What are we heading up these stairs for?’