Jasper Fforde - Lost in a Good Book

The air was warmer now, and as my father checked his chronograph again we started to decelerate. The six months we had spent there had passed in barely thirty minutes. By the time we had returned to one day per day it was night again.

‘I don’t see anyone, do you?’ he hissed.

I looked around; the road was deserted. I opened my mouth to speak but he put a finger to his lips. At that moment a car appeared around the corner and drove rapidly down the road. It swerved to avoid a fox, skidded sideways, off the road and landed upside down in the river. I wanted to get up but my father held me with a pinched grip. The driver of the car—who I assumed was Billden—broke the surface of the river, then quickly dived back to the car and resurfaced a few moments later with a woman. He dragged her to the bank and was just about to return to the submerged vehicle when a tall man in a greatcoat appeared from nowhere and placed his hand on Billden’s arm.

‘Now!’ said my father, and we dashed from the safety of the copse.

‘Leave him!’ yelled my father. ‘Leave him to do what he has to do!’

My father grabbed the interloper and with a sharp cry the man vanished. Billden looked confused and made a run for the river, but in a few short moments a half-dozen ChronoGuard had dropped in, Lavoisier among them. One of the agents rugby-tackled Landen’s father before he could return to rescue his son. I yelled. ‘ No! ’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden

I yelled. ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden

I yelled: ‘ No !’, pulled out my gun and aimed it at the man who held Billden.

The next thing I knew I was disarmed, sitting on the ground and feeling shocked and disorientated after my brief enloopment. It was how I imagine a stuck record might feel. Two SO-12 operatives stared at me while my father and Lavoisier talked close by. Billden was breathing heavily and sobbing into the damp earth.

‘Bastards!’ I spat. ‘My husband’s in there!’

‘So much to learn,’ muttered Lavoisier. ‘The infant Parke-Laine is not your husband, he is an accident statistic—or not. It rather depends on your father.’

‘A lackey for the Goliath Corporation, Lavoisier?’ said my father. ‘You disappoint me.’

‘Greater need prevails, Colonel. If you’d handed yourself in I wouldn’t have had to take these extreme measures, besides, the ChronoGuard can’t function without corporate sponsorship.’

‘And in return you do a few favours?’

‘As I said, greater needs prevail. And before you start waving charges of corruption at me, this combined Goliath/ChronoGuard operation has been fully sanctioned by the Chamber. Now, it’s so simple even you can understand it. Give yourself up and your daughter can have her husband back—whether or not she decides to help Goliath. As you can see, I am in a very generous mood.’

I looked at Dad and saw him bite his lip. He rubbed his temples and sighed.

‘No.’

‘What?’ exclaimed Lavoisier.

‘No,’ I repeated. ‘Dad, don’t do it. I’ll get Jack Schitt out or just live on my own—or something !’

He smiled and rested his hand on my shoulder.

‘Bah!’ went Lavoisier. ‘As hideously self-righteous as each other!’

He nodded to his men, who raised their weapons. But Dad was quick. I felt him grasp my shoulder tightly and we were off. The sun rose quickly as we leapt forward, leaving Lavoisier and the others several hours away before they realised what had happened.

‘Let’s see if we can lose him!’ muttered my father. ‘As for that Chamber stuff—bullshit. Landen’s eradication was murder, pure and simple. In fact, it’s just the sort of information I need to bring Lavoisier down!’

Days amounted to no more than brief flashes of alternate dark and light as we hurtled into the future.

‘We’re not at full speed,’ Dad explained. ‘He might overtake me without thinking. Keep an eye out for—’

Lavoisier and his cronies appeared for no more than the briefest glimpse as they moved past us into the future. Dad stopped abruptly and I staggered slightly as we returned to real time. We moved off the road as a fifties-style truck drove past, horn blaring.

‘What now?’

‘I think we shook him off. Blast!’

We were off again—Lavoisier had reappeared. We lost him for a moment but pretty soon he was back again, keeping pace with us.

‘I’m too old to fall for that one!’ He smiled.

Soon after two of his cronies reappeared as each one found us and matched the speed at which we were moving through history.

‘I knew you’d come,’ said Lavoisier triumphantly, walking towards us slowly as the time flashed past, faster and faster. A new road was built where we were standing, then a bridge, houses, shops. ‘Give yourself up. What do you hope to gain from all this? You’ll have a fair trial, believe me.’

The two other ChronoGuard operatives grabbed my father and held him tightly.

‘I’ll see you hang for this, Lavoisier! The Chamber would never sanction such an action. Give Landen back his life and I promise you I will say nothing.’

‘Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?’ replied Lavoisier scornfully. ‘Who do you think they’re going to believe? You with your record or me, third in command at the ChronoGuard? Besides, your clumsy attempt to get Landen back has covered any tracks I might have made getting rid of him!’

Lavoisier aimed his gun at my father. The two ChronoGuard held on to him tightly to stop him accelerating away, and we buffeted slightly as he tried. I had a sudden thought.

‘Do you guys cross picket lines?’

The ChronoGuard agents looked at one another, then at the chronographs on their wrists, then at Lavoisier. The taller of the two was the first to speak.

‘She’s right, Mr Lavoisier, sir. I don’t mind bullying and killing innocents, and I’ll follow you beyond the crunch normally , but—’

‘But what?’ asked Lavoisier angrily.

‘—but I am a loyal Timeguild member. I don’t cross picket lines.’

‘Neither do I,’ agreed the other agent, nodding to his friend. ‘Likewise and truly.’

Lavoisier smiled engagingly.

‘Listen here, guys, I’ll personally pay—’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Lavoisier,’ replied the operative, slightly indignantly, ‘but we’ve been instructed not to enter into any individual contracts.’ And in an instant they were gone as December arrived and the world turned pink. What was once the road was now a few inches of the same pink slime that Dad had shown me. We were beyond 12 December 1985, and where before there had been growth, change, seasons, clouds, now there was nothing but a never-ending landscape of shiny opaque curd.