Gary Gibson - Final Days

‘And that’s what saved your life, while every other living thing on the Moon and Earth was wiped out?’

‘Maybe.’ Mitchell shrugged. ‘At least I can’t think of any other explanation. The next thing I remembr is being revived, and I couldn’t believe it when I learned I’d been brought back into my own past. I remember staring through the window at things I was sure I’d never see again – things like trees, birds, grass. They started interrogating me straight away, but there wasn’t much I could tell them.’

‘Then you broke out?’

‘I had to, because by then I’d started to remember things. After that, it was just a matter of time before I figured a way out.’

‘And then you came looking for me,’ said Jeff.

Mitchell smiled softly. ‘And then I came looking for you.’

Jeff had hugged himself, as if warding off a chill.

A metal panel, set into Arcorex’s main entrance, flashed from red to green as Jeff approached. He half expected alarms to begin blaring the moment he crossed the threshold, but, once again, nothing happened.

Get a grip , he told himself. As far as anyone else was concerned, he was just another member of staff coming in for an all-nighter.

Jeff swiftly crossed an atrium, partly lit by moonlight spilling down through angled panes of glass, and walked past a reception area, where a single security guard sat on a mesh-backed chair. The man flicked his eyes towards the new arrival for a moment, then returned his attention to a bank of screens. Jeff gave him a bare nod and continued across the expanse of polished marble until he arrived at a row of elevators.

As the elevator carried him below ground level, his UP began flashing a standard warning that he was now entering a high-security area. When the doors hissed open, he found himself at one end of a whitewashed corridor that was bleakly illuminated by strip lights. Mitchell had said he remembered seeing the letters B3 painted on one wall, which would mean he had been held in the lowest basement level, where all artefacts from Site 17, and other far-future locations, were analysed under strictly controlled conditions.

He moved further down the corridor, peering in through windows at labs where often incomprehensible alien machinery was X-rayed, chemically tested, blasted with radiation or simply picked apart by teams of engineers. He finally stopped and looked around, feeling frustrated. There was nowhere they could possibly be keeping Mitchell down here. In that case, how could he . . . ?

Of course. How could he have forgotten? Beyond the labs, there was an emergency ward at the very far end of the corridor; but, given Arcorex’s excellent safety record, the ward had never been used – at least until now. If they were going to keep Mitchell anywhere, it would be there.

He turned a corner and kept walking, until he reached a door where the corridor ended. Looking in through a window, he spotted four hospital-style beds, all of them vacant, but noticed an airlock at the far end of the ward that clearly led into a separate isolation unit. He entered the room, squeezed inside the tiny airlock, before using a standard staff-access code to unlock the door beyond.

He found the other Mitchell lying there on a single-size cot, various pieces of medical equipment arranged around him and an intravenous tube taped to one wrist. Jeff half expected him to open his eyes and say Gotcha . It was exactly the same man he’d left waiting for him outside – but, at the same time, it wasn’t.

It was at that moment he decided to think of the man lying on the cot as ‘Present-Mitchell’. Working carefully, he pulled the tube loose from Present-Mitchell’s wrist. Present-Mitchell moaned and shifted in response.

‘Okay, Mitch, got to wake up.’ Present-Mitchell grunted and tried to push Jeff away with weak hands, as he tried to persuade him to sit up. The man’s eyes flickered open, but failed to focus on Jeff’s face. His paper pyjamas crinkled noisily as Jeff finally dragged him upright, and he nearly slid to the floor while being helped off the cot.

‘Hey . . .’ Present-Mitchell finally mumbled, looking around himself. ‘What . . . ?’

‘C’mon,’ Jeff urged. ‘Time to get moving.’ He propped Present-Mitchell up against one wall, then slapped him hard on the cheek, desperate to get him to focus. It wouldn’t be too long before those security teams he’d seen patrolling the grounds eventually worked their way round to the basement area.

Jeff pulled his hand back to deliver another slap, but Present-Mitchell reached out and grabbed hold of his wrist, spinning him around and locking one arm around his neck like a vice. Jeff was far too startled to resist.

‘What . . . ?’ Mitchell’s voice wavered, but his grip was remarkably strong, despite the drugs ‘. . . what the fuck are you doing with me?’

His grip suddenly loosened, and Jeff pulled free as Present-Mitchell crumpled to the floor, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath.

Jeff stepped around behind him, pulling him up under the shoulders. Present-Mitchell seemed to come awake once more, and feebly reached out in an attempt to steady himself. He didn’t resist this time, as Jeff helped him get upright, with one arm flung around Jeff’s shoulders.

‘Okay,’ Jeff gasped, turning them both around until they faced the airlock. ‘We’re getting out of here. You ready?’

Present-Mitchell shook his head like a man in a trance. ‘Jeff,’ he mumbled, ‘it’s you, isn’t it? What the fuck are you doing here?’

‘Getting you out of here. Weren’t you listening?’

‘Out?’ Mitchell coughed, then sneezed wetly. ‘Okay, good. But I need to lie down first . . .’

‘No!’ Jeff saw Present-Mitchell’s eyes start sliding shut again. As he dragg

Just then, Future-Mitchell contacted him from outside. ‘You got him?’

‘Yeah, I got him,’ Jeff replied. ‘You sure all that shit in the back of the van is wired up right?’

‘Who are you talking to?’ mumbled Present-Mitchell, hearing only Jeff’s side of the conversation.

‘You,’ Jeff replied curtly.

‘It’s wired up just fine,’ Future-Mitchell assured him. ‘Do you want me to send the van in now?’

‘In a couple of minutes,’ Jeff replied, then cut the connection.

‘Hey,’ Present-Mitchell seemed suddenly more alert, ‘what’s going on?’

‘We’re getting you out of here, remember?’

Present-Mitchell grabbed one of Jeff’s hands. ‘First you tell me where the fuck we are, Jeff. Then you tell me what’s going on.’

‘I’m here to rescue you, you dumb bucket of shit,’ Jeff snapped. ‘They brought you here all the way from Site 17 and, unless you do what I say, they’re either going to keep you in here for ever or cut you open to try and figure out how you survived. Now, come on.’

This time, Present-Mitchell didn’t resist as Jeff dragged him out into the corridor. But an alarm began to wail, the sound of it loud and abrasive, before they were even halfway to the elevator.

Jeff felt his insides turn to ice water. That was it. They were screwed.

‘I can walk,’ Present-Mitchell slurred, trying to push him away.

‘No, you can’t,’ Jeff snapped. ‘But just try and stay awake.’

He hauled him inside the elevator, the sound of the alarm becoming more muted once the doors closed and the car began to rise. He then pushed the semi-comatose man against one wall, holding him upright.

‘I’m fine,’ Present-Mitchell mumbled. Jeff peered into his eyes and saw that he did, in fact, look a little more awake than just a few moments before. He stepped away and this time Present-Mitchell managed to stay upright without any help.