Then they had descended the staircase until they were a hundred metres underground.
‘This is why the Time Bureau exists,’ Cutler went on. ‘This is a section of our Time Accelerator. You’ve heard of the Large Hadron Collider?’ he asked. ‘The one on the Swiss–French border that they use for advanced physics experiments.’
‘Dad showed me a picture of it in the paper,’ Simon said. ‘It’s twenty-seven k’s across, or something like that.’
‘This is smaller, only one kilometre across,’ Cutler explained. ‘But it’s as powerful as its bigger cousin.’ He smiled. ‘I’m not a scientist, but I can tell you this is the most essential piece of machinery that we use in our work.’
Simon stared at Cutler. ‘So, if this is a Time Accelerator, what is your work?’
‘I think it’s time I gave you a full explanation,’ Cutler said slowly. ‘Simon, everyone thinks they’re unique. But in your case this is true.’
‘Meaning what?’
‘You might have noticed that I scanned you, your sister and your mother when I first visited your house, four months ago.’
Simon nodded. ‘The gadget with the blue beam.’
‘It’s something we do routinely,’ Cutler went on. ‘We scan everyone. We’re authorised to do it because we’re looking for something special. And only about one in ten million people have it.’
This made Simon even more curious. ‘Have what?’
Cutler took the scanner from his pocket and held it in his palm. ‘This simple-looking instrument is actually a sophisticated genetic testing device,’ he said. ‘It reads DNA and records it.’
‘And you recorded ours?’ Simon asked.
‘We discovered that yours is particularly interesting. You have a genetic structure that is strong and flexible. That’s why we invited you here. Your genetic results fit our profile. You’re perfect for our program.’
‘So, I’m not here just for school?’ Simon said.
He thought of Mayfield Manor, the stately home built up on the surface nearby. It stood at the foot of the hill that contained the Time Bureau, and was fitted out as an exclusive boarding school. ‘This isn’t about improving my education?’ he asked.
‘Not in the way you might think,’ Cutler replied. ‘You’re here so that we can train you. Train you as a time traveller. What we call a temponaut.’
‘You want me to be a time traveller?’ Simon said. ‘There’s no such thing.’
‘We have the technology. Here’s part of it, right in front of your eyes. Just around the bend to your left, there’s a Travel Chamber and other equipment associated with sending our temponauts on their missions.’ Cutler paused to let the information sink in. ‘We regularly travel through time.’
This guy is nuts, Simon thought. ‘This isn’t what I signed up for,’ he said. ‘I thought you were sending me to school. I don’t believe in time travel. I want you to ring my mum in Bristol, and tell her to come and pick me up.’
‘Are you sure?’ Cutler asked.
‘Yeah. I’ve never been more sure. I want to go home.’
‘Think it through,’ Cutler went on. ‘If you go back to Australia, all this comes to an end. We stop supporting your mother and sister. The job, the house, the school, everything.’
Simon bristled. ‘Are you threatening me?’
‘On the contrary,’ Cutler replied calmly, ‘I’m giving you the chance to be involved in this project. One that also involved your father.’
‘
This
is what Dad was working on?’ Simon asked.
‘Look around,’ Cutler said. ‘This is all a result of your father’s work. This is why he got involved with the Time Bureau.’
‘You mean he worked on the Time Accelerator?’
‘Your father’s field of research was time travel,’ Cutler said. ‘In fact, he did more than that. He
invented
time travel.’
Simon looked around curiously, his anger gone. ‘But at the Large Hadron Collider they just work with particles,’ he said. ‘Are you really telling me that you can send
people
through time?’
‘Yes.’
‘And this time machine can send people anywhere?’
‘Yes. We have this technology because of your father.’ Cutler placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder. ‘If you stay, you’ll be sent on missions through time. It’s challenging work. And we want you to be part of it.’
Simon thought for a few moments. The information Cutler was giving him sounded ridiculous, but what if it were true? The events of the last few months had felt like a weird dream. Leaving Sydney, coming to the UK and arriving at this school seemed unreal. Maybe he should stay and find out where the dream would lead him next. ‘I’ve got one question,’ he said.
‘Sure.’
‘This investigation into Dad’s disappearance,’ Simon said, ‘is it still on? What have you found out?’
‘We’ve uncovered very little new information,’ Cutler replied. ‘But the investigation is continuing.’
So they’re in no hurry, Simon thought. I’m going to have to find out for myself.
And to do that, he would have to stay close to everything associated with his father. He took a deep breath. ‘Okay, Captain, don’t call Mum. I’ll stay.’
‘Good,’ Cutler replied. ‘You’ve made the right decision.’
Simon managed a smile. Just how he would find out about his dad’s disappearance, he didn’t know. Not yet. But there had to be a way.
S
pring sunshine bathed the front steps of Mayfield Manor. Simon struggled to stay awake as he sprawled on the warm stones.
He was exhausted after a morning spent learning the basics of horse riding. It was one of the activities he had chosen under the heading
Sporting Interests
on his enrolment form. And it was turning out okay. He didn’t like tennis or cricket, and his top choice—surfing—was impossible in this part of the country.
His bum and legs were sore from trying to stay in the saddle. Keen to get some movement back into his body, he got to his feet and ran down the steps, into the garden. He jogged past the hedge maze, through a cluster of trees and bushes, and stopped in a clearing with a view of the Sussex Downs.
Beyond the distant hills were a few towns and villages, but the manor was isolated on its hundred hectares of parkland and forest.
It was a situation that suited its purpose perfectly, as Simon had recently discovered. From the main road, about half a kilometre away, passing motorists would see only the sign by the flint-stone gatehouse:
INSTITUTE OF ADVANCED LEARNING
I
NTERNATIONAL
S
CHOOL
FOR
T
ALENTED
S
TUDENTS
And, Simon thought, even if a visitor did get past the heavily guarded gates, everything would appear normal. First, they would see the mansion, the lake and the gardens. They might catch a glimpse of the rest of the grounds, which contained two training fields, a picturesque old cricket oval, tennis courts, well-equipped stables for a dozen horses, and a jogging track that weaved through a large stand of beechwood forest. If they went inside, on the ground floor of the mansion they would find a grand entrance hall, a big kitchen, two classrooms, an oak-panelled dining room, library, billiard room and a ballroom with ornate ceilings. An elaborately carved staircase led to two other floors with thirty centrally heated bedrooms. The place looked just like any other exclusive school—an ideal location for the small group of apparently well-heeled international students.
Simon smiled as he looked back over his shoulder at the hill that rose behind the mansion. There lay the true heart of Mayfield—the Time Bureau headquarters and the Time Accelerator that Simon had briefly visited. An investment that had cost worldwide governments tens of billions of dollars.
All this because of my dad, Simon thought to himself for the hundredth time. He wondered how he could have known so little about his father.
A horn beeped and a yellow minibus drove slowly up the drive. Four young faces stared through the tinted windows.
Simon made his way back through the garden to the parking area at the steps of the mansion. He had been the first student to enrol, and had spent the past week waiting impatiently for the others to arrive. Captain Cutler had explained that there could eventually be another twenty-five temponauts living here. If and when they were recruited. Finding the right kids took a lot of searching.
As the new recruits stepped from the bus, Simon wondered how many thousands, or maybe millions, of kids had been scanned to come up with this small group.
There was a skinny English-looking boy with brown spiky hair and clothes that reeked of inner-city attitude. He was joined by a tall Chinese boy with hair shaven to a number one, and a black girl with hair tied back in a ponytail. Both were more conservatively dressed than the first boy. They gazed around curiously.
The last passenger to get out was a slim, freckled, fair-haired girl. She hesitated at the door and looked around warily. Almost as if she didn’t believe her eyes.
She glanced in Simon’s direction and smiled briefly.
‘Hello, and welcome!’ Captain Cutler’s voice boomed from the top of the steps. ‘There you are, Simon! Enjoy the horse ride? Come inside, all of you.’
The other kids turned, glanced at Simon and moved off.
A rare bunch of guys, Simon mused as he watched them troop up the steps. Behind him, the fair-haired girl stopped and looked around at the countryside.
‘Your big chance,’ Simon said jokingly. ‘Now you can make a run for it!’
She didn’t reply, but took a deep breath, seemed to call on some inner strength, and followed the others.
Simon waited for a moment longer. He wanted to enjoy what were probably the last minutes of his own company for a long time.
Then, unable to put it off any longer, he went inside.
The 24th Century, North America
T
he cave of the Chieftain was dimly lit with candles.
The skulls of giant alligators, sabre-toothed tigers, tusked boars and other predators decorated the rough stone walls. Their teeth and tusks were plated with gold and glinted in the smoky half-light.
A teenage boy knelt at the foot of some steps that led to a tall throne. The throne was carved from a single block of polished red granite and was occupied by a man in a white robe. The man’s bare arms were tattooed with Celtic-knot motifs and his fingers were laden with heavy gold rings. His face was hidden by a hood pulled forward to the level of his eyes.
‘I … I can’t explain where she went,’ the boy stammered.
‘Where did you lose her, Damien?’ the Chieftain growled.
‘Somewhere near the castle, as we were returning.’
Damien then went on to explain how his sister, Danice, had mysteriously vanished on their latest mission. Telling the story wasn’t easy. Damien was afraid of this man who sent him, and other kids, searching for gold. The Chieftain ruled their area, and could order punishment, imprisonment and death.
‘When did you notice her missing?’ the Chieftain asked.
‘Only a few minutes from our pick-up spot,’ Damien said. ‘We had to go under a bridge …’ He paused a moment to recall. ‘And when I looked back, to see if she was following me—she was gone.’
‘Careless boy! You should have tried to find her!’ the Chieftain shouted. ‘She was essential to my search for gold!’
‘It was my mistake, Chieftain, I’m sorry.’ Damien bowed his head lower, afraid to show any feelings for his missing sister. His family depended on the Chieftain for food and survival. It would do Damien no good to show he was more worried about Danice than he was about the Chieftain’s search for gold. It was gold that kept the Chieftain in his position of power, and it was this position of power that protected Damien’s family.
‘Forgive me, I had no time to search,’ Damien said. ‘I thought it best to return and report to you.’
Damien was also reluctant to tell the Chieftain the full story. So he didn’t mention that two men had jumped out of the darkness. Or that one man had grabbed his sister, while Damien struggled with the other, before managing to break away and escape. He was afraid that the Chieftain might decide the mission was too difficult and call it off. If he did that, there would be no gold. And no gold meant no food for Damien’s family.