Alex Scarrow - Time Riders

‘But why does it have to be these two days?’ askedMaddy. ‘I remember that day. I was nine. My mom and dad both cried thewhole day, that Tuesday. Why then ?’

‘Because everyone’s attention will be on what happened. No one will ever noticethe comings and goings from that little archway beneath the bridge. No one will ever remember-’ Foster glanced at Liam — ‘this young man dressed in asteward’s uniform, wandering around the night before. Your existence here will neveraffect time, never contaminate time… you’ll never beremembered by anyone. All anyone will ever recall of today and tomorrow will be the horrendousimages of the planes striking the towers, the towers coming down, the dust-clogged streets,the grief-stricken survivors emerging from the smoke.’

He shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s how we stay unnoticed, Madelaine,it’s how we keep the agency a secret. It’s how we keep from contaminating timeourselves.’

She nodded silently, new tears beginning to fill her eyes.

He rested a hand on her arm. ‘I’m truly sorry. Do you remember the daybefore?’

She shook her head.

He smiled. ‘The day before, the Monday, really was beautiful. A warm and sunny day,Central Park filled with tourists and New Yorkers enjoying the warmth without a care in theworld. Take comfort in that, Madelaine, at the end of every grim Tuesday, because for you theworld resets and that Monday waits to happen once more.’

Maddy wondered if that meant she might one day catch sight of Julian striding to work in hissmart office clothes, be able to talk to him again. Warn him not to turn up for work?

No… No, I guess I can’t. She shook the temptingnotion from her head, knowing that it would come back again to taunt her.

Foster glanced at his watch. ‘It’s been a few hours now. The seeker should havefaded away.’

Liam swallowed anxiously. ‘You’re sure of that, MrFoster?’

‘Yes. It was already dying when we left. I left everything powered off, even that lightswitch. It’ll have faded away by now. We should head back. There’s much for thethree of you to learn, and learn quickly.’

Maddy drew her eyes from the towers and studied Foster intently. ‘Why therush?’

‘And why us ?’ asked Sal.

‘Why you? It’s simple. All three of you have the specific skills we need. Now wehave you, though, I need to train you for the work at hand.’

Foster took a moment to consider what to say next. ‘And I’ll not lie toyou… it’s going to be dangerous.’ He looked at them sombrely. ‘I lostthe last team because of a silly mistake, a simple, stupid mistake. They should have scannedbefore pulling me back. They didn’t. So this time the training’s going to be morethorough. All three of you will need to work hard. You’ll need to understand how timeworks, know what you’re doing or…’ He paused, looking away.

‘Or what?’ asked Sal.

‘Or you’ll end up like the last team.’

They stood in silence, watching the busy street, listening to the bustle of cabs, thethumping bass of a passing sound system, the distant squawl of a police siren bouncing offskyscraper walls of glass and steel.

‘Mr Foster,’ Liam said after a while, ‘what if we don’t want to do this?’

The old man offered them a sad, pitying smile. ‘Then there’s only one place youcan go… back where I found you. For you, Liam, back on deck E, just as that poor brokenship starts its descent to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.’

Liam shuddered involuntarily at the thought.

‘I’m sorry. It’s not much of a choice, is it?’

‘Not really,’ muttered Liam.

He spread his hands. ‘I’m afraid that’s the way it is.’

Maddy shook her head. ‘Well, there’s no way I’m going back on to a planethat’s about to crash and burn.’

‘If you decide to stay,’ cautioned Foster, ‘there’s no leaving. Ifyou decide to stay, you’re in for good.’

‘Until we die in the service of this agency?’

He nodded sombrely. The three of them regarded the old man in stony silence.

‘Right,’ he said, ‘we should probably head back. There’s one moremember of the team I want to introduce you to.’

Liam cocked his head. ‘Someone like us?’

‘Not exactly… no.’

2066, New York

It’s down here somewhere in the dark, Paul. Can’tyou feel destiny tugging at your sleeve?

He didn’t. What he felt were the eyes of Karl and his men upon him, anxiously,impatiently, watching him thumbing through his little black notebook.

Through the open door, leading on to the stairwell up to the main hall, he could hear themuted echo of a loudhailer coming from outside. Apparently they already had a negotiator outfront trying to establish contact. If he wasn’t so preoccupied down here, it would havebeen fun to be upstairs in the museum’s main hall watching the growing circus buildingup out there.

‘Sir,’ Karl prompted under his breath, ‘there’s only half an hourleft of your deadline. They will surely come in soon if they think negotiation isn’tgetting them anywhere.’

‘I know,’ he replied, looking down at the pages of his scrawled handwriting.‘It’ll take just a moment.’

Karl looked around the basement. It was filled to the high ceiling with crate after woodencrate of varying shapes and sizes, each stamped with a unique catalogue number. There werehundreds, no, thousands of them stacked down here on long rows of metal brackets andwooden-slat shelving.

Kramer looked up and noticed the concern on Karl’s face.

‘Karl, these boxes are all categorized. It may appear random, but theywere very careful when they closed down the museum to store the exhibits by department, bysub-department, by genus, by species.’

Kramer waved the black book in front of Haas. ‘He wanted to be able to locate iteasily, quickly — not have to sift through a thousand wooden cases.’ Kramer lookedaround. ‘We’ll find exactly where it’s located,’ he added. ‘Theanswer’s in this little notebook. Trust me.’

Kramer flicked through a few pages, finally running his finger down a page filled with fadinghandwriting.

‘And here it is. CRM, three-zero-nine, one-five-six-seven,two-zero-five-one.’

Karl Haas turned to inspect the nearest crates, but Kramer grabbed his arm.

‘We don’t have the time to check every box. We canwork out where to start looking from the number.’

‘How?’

‘CRM is the prefix code for the scientific exhibits. Three-zero-nine is thepalaeontology department.’ Kramer turned round and approached the huddled securityguards.

‘Tell me, gentlemen, where are the dinosaur exhibits stored?’

They shook their heads nervously. One of them, a frail old snowy-haired man who looked tenyears past retirement age, nodded towards a nearby wall.

‘Th-there’s a chart just th-there.’

Kramer smiled. ‘Ah yes… I see, thank you.’

He stepped over, tore it off the wall and examined it quickly. ‘Right. It’s downthere, I think.’ He pointed along an aisle that faded away into darkness. He pulled atorch out of his backpack and switched it on, heading at a swift trot into the narrowpassageway flanked on either side by shelves laden with wooden and cardboard boxes of allshapes and sizes.

After a minute he stopped and checked the code stamp on the box nearest him.‘Two-zero-seven, we’re getting closer,’ he whispered to himself, and set offagain at a trot.

Footsteps behind him.

He turned to see Karl, his torch a swinging beam of light lancing out in front of him.‘Sir? Can I help?’

Kramer stopped. ‘Yes. Get the men to bring the Porta-Gen down this way. As soon as welocate this thing, we’ll need that generator cranked and ready to go.’