TimeBomb: The TimeBomb Trilogy: Book 1 (32 page)

‘But Dora, Kaz and I haven’t been to your time; we’ve never touched this asteroid thing,’ Jana said.

‘And that’s the great talent of this particular material. It starts working before you are exposed to it. The effect travels backwards down your timeline from the moment of exposure. In a few months of your subjective timeline, you’ll be exposed to it. Which means all three of you are heading for the future soon. But I already know that, ’cause I met you there.’

Jana’s head was beginning to spin. ‘This is so confusing,’ she said softly.

‘You get used to it soon enough,’ said Quil. ‘Just accept that you’re never going to work it all out until it’s over. Go with the flow.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s the only way.’ She stepped away from the bed.

Mountfort was now connected. His heartbeat was weak but the ECG showed it to be steady. Quil waved her hands at him distractedly.

‘That’s the best I can do,’ she told Dora. ‘I stopped the internal bleeding, patched the wound. He’s getting antibiotics through the drip. The shock might still kill him, unless I can find a suitable blood donor. So I’m going to type his blood, then yours and hers, OK?’ Quil gestured at Dora.

Dora looked to Jana for reassurance. ‘She’s going to take a sample of our blood and see if we match Mountfort’s blood type,’ explained Jana patiently. ‘If we do, she can take some of our blood and put it in him. It will save his life.’

Dora’s face was a picture of horror and disgust.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Jana, smiling at Dora’s primitive fears. ‘It’s a very common thing in the future. Happens every day. You’ll be fine. If you want to save him, we need to do it.’

Dora nodded tentatively. ‘Very well,’ she told Quil. ‘You may take my blood if it will save him.’

Quil walked over to a cabinet and removed a syringe, a bowl and some chemicals in small bottles. She set to work, using the bedside table.

‘I have a question,’ said Dora. ‘What year do you hail from? When did you start … everything?’

Quil shook her head, as if Dora had asked a very tough question indeed. ‘There are lots of possible answers to that. The date I was born. The date I first travelled in time. But let’s go with May twenty-seventh 2155.’

‘And what occurred upon that day?’

‘If you keep to our deal, you’ll never need to know.’

‘Tell me, then,’ said Jana.

‘If
you
keep to our deal, you can see for yourself. Believe me, it’s something you need to experience. Being told isn’t adequate.’ Quil looked up from the bowl where she had just squirted a syringe of Mountfort’s blood. ‘Since we’re being so open, there’s something else I want to know,’ she said. ‘The boy, Kaz. Who is he?’

Jana shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Wrong place, wrong time, I think. He was there when Dora and I arrived in 2014. He seemed surprised to see us, so I don’t think he was there on purpose.’

‘He may not have chosen to be there, but that doesn’t mean that he wasn’t supposed to be there,’ said Quil. ‘Someone wanted him to meet you and Dora, you can count on that.’

Jana suspected that someone might have been ‘Steve’, but she wasn’t going to mention him; she’d already given away too much by accident. She was acutely aware that as relaxed and friendly as their chat seemed, she was still holding Quil at gunpoint. Who knew how their talk would have gone if their positions had been reversed.

Quil was about to take a sample of Dora’s blood when two things happened at once.

First there was the sound of a huge explosion somewhere above them, the room shook and dust showered from the ceiling.

Then Jana felt sharp, cold steel at her throat.

Dora let out an involuntary squeal as the house shook, and then a second louder one when she saw Sweetclover standing behind Jana with his knife at her throat.

‘Don’t kill her,’ shouted Quil as she dropped the bowl of Mountfort’s blood. ‘We need her alive, Hank.’

Jana was looking at Dora, mouthing ‘Sorry’ as Quil ran past her out into the main chamber.

There was another heavy impact in the house above and another shower of dust and mortar.

‘Up,’ barked Sweetclover.

Dora got to her feet.

‘Drop the pistols.’

Jana did so.

‘Outside.’ He pushed Jana forward.

Jana and Dora walked out the door as Sweetclover scooped up the pistols from the floor, then both jumped and turned in horror as a single shot rang out from the sickroom. Sweetclover was standing over Mountfort’s bed, a smoking flintlock in his right hand. Dora flew at him through the doorway, hands out, scratching at his face, kicking and wailing. He batted her away with a mighty swipe of his hand and she crashed to the floor.

‘You bastard,’ spat Jana as Sweetclover strode out of the room. ‘He was defenceless.’

He raised the second pistol and pointed it at Jana’s right calf. ‘Do not test me, wench,’ he said, although he sounded more tired than angry. ‘My wife forbad me to kill you, but she did not say I could not hurt you.’

‘I will see you hang for that,’ said Dora as she rose unsteadily, her head swimming from the impact of Sweetclover’s blow.

‘In case you haven’t noticed,’ shouted Quil from the computer terminal, ‘the house is being bombarded. Could everyone please sit down and shut up while I deal with this? Hank, don’t hurt them but don’t let them leave. Girls, our deal still stands. Just keep out of my way and let me work.’

There was another concussive blast from above, louder and closer than the last two.

‘They are finding their range,’ said Sweetclover as he waved the pistol to indicate that the girls should sit against the wall. Dora ran to her mother, who was still unconscious. She rested Sarah’s head on her lap and looked up at the bank of floating screens. Jana came and sat beside her.

‘Sorry,’ said Jana, looking crestfallen. ‘I kind of forgot about him.’

Dora wanted to lash out, to blame Jana for Mountfort’s needless death, but in truth she had also forgotten about Sweetclover.

‘Do not fret, Jana,’ she said.

‘Is this your mom?’

‘It is.’

Jana reached over and placed her hand on Sarah’s neck. ‘What are you doing?’ asked Dora.

‘Just checking her pulse. She’s fine.’ Jana smiled. ‘So they brainwashed her, yeah?’

‘I do not know what that word means,’ replied Dora impatiently. She was getting a little sick of the way future-people spoke to her.

‘Sorry. Quil mentioned something called a mind-writer?’

‘Yes, a machine from the future. It has made my mother gullible and stupid. She is asleep now, for the alarums and excitements of this day have overwhelmed her senses. When she wakes, Quil has promised to restore her to her right mind.’

Jana looked sceptical. ‘I wonder how many of her promises she’ll feel like keeping now she’s got a gun.’

‘I was not armed when she offered me a truce,’ Dora pointed out.

‘I hope you’re not plotting against me over there,’ shouted Quil.

‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ Jana replied, sarcastically.

‘You should come watch this.’ Quil waved at the screens. ‘Should be fun.’

Dora exchanged a glance with Jana, who shrugged. ‘Why not,’ she said.

Dora removed Sarah’s apron, balled it up to use as a pillow and rested her mother’s head upon it. Then she and Jana walked over to stand beside Quil at the wall of floating screens. More impacts rattled the house above.

‘So,’ said Quil, as if addressing a classroom. ‘Before us we have four main screens. This one, top right, shows us an aerial view of the ridge to the east. As you can see, parliamentary forces have occupied the ridge and set up their cannons. I thought they might. It’s the best vantage point. They got our range very quickly, which is impressive, but their fire won’t be able to penetrate the forcefield I’ve erected around the house.’

‘A forcefield is a kind of invisible wall,’ said Jana. Dora swallowed her frustration and nodded thanks for the translation.

‘I have a surprise in store for them,’ said Quil. ‘But let’s allow them a little time to try and work out why their cannonballs are bouncing off thin air. First I think I’ll deal with these gentlemen.’ She indicated the screen below, which showed another aerial view, this time a column of men carrying pikes and muskets marching through the gate that marked the boundary of the Sweetclover estate.

‘How are you seeing this?’ Dora asked.

‘Eyeskys. I have flying machines that send me pictures,’ said Quil as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Dora watched the screen, imagining what it would be like to see such a view for real, to be flying above the ground looking down on it like a god. What would that do, she wondered, to a person’s sense of power, seeing people scurrying below like ants?

‘My dear, should you not be closing your invisible door?’ said Sweetclover, mildly.

‘Patience,’ replied Quil. ‘I need to wait for the last man to pass through the gate. That’ll take a couple of minutes yet. So let’s see how the cavalry are getting on.’ She indicated the top left screen on which a group of twenty mounted men were trotting, as casually as could be, across a large field, again seen from above but with a much steadier picture. ‘That’s the view from one of the cameras on the roof of the hall’s central tower,’ explained Quil.

‘We are under attack on three fronts,’ observed Sweetclover.

‘Yes, we are,’ agreed Quil. ‘And none of them poses any threat to us.’

‘Will you send your militia to fight them?’ asked Dora.

‘Militia?’ asked Quil.

‘The blue-faced guards.’

‘Oh, you mean the Celts.’

Dora was not sure that she did, but did not argue.

‘No need,’ explained Quil. ‘I’ve only got ten of them awake at the moment. They’re good fighters, but they’re not quite enough to win this battle. I’ve got them manning the tower guns. Oh look, they’re through.’ She pointed to the screen that showed the infantry, who had now all passed through the gate and were fanning out as they began to approach the outer edge of the hall’s gardens. Quil turned to her husband and grabbed his arm, as if she were an overexcited girl. ‘I’d forgotten how much I missed this,’ she said. ‘I love a good battle.’

Dora did not believe that anyone who enjoyed battle could be quite right in the head, but she kept the thought to herself.

‘Can we please begin our defence,’ replied Sweetclover, who looked far less enthusiastic than his wife about watching an army converge upon his home.

‘Sure,’ said Quil. ‘Pick one. Who goes first?’

‘Cannons, I think,’ he said with a strained smile.

‘Cannons it is,’ said Quil, pushing one of keys on the board before her. ‘Fire in the hole!’

The top right screen turned bright orange and a moment later they felt the ground beneath their feet rumble and ripple as if some great giant were stomping towards them. The screen filled with fire and smoke and then went dead.

‘Damn, got the eyesky,’ cursed Quil.

‘What has happened?’ asked Dora.

‘I filled the ridge with high explosive, which I just detonated. If I got my math right, the whole ridge is now gone. Just gone. No more ridge, no more cannons. I thank you,’ she said, and bowed to imaginary applause.

Dora felt her mouth drop open at the scale of what Quil had done, the number of people she had dispatched with a single button-press; it made Dora feel ill.

‘There was no need for that,’ said Jana quietly.

‘For my second trick, I will stop the cavalry,’ said Quil, with a smile in her voice, ignoring Jana. She pressed another button and said, ‘Open fire.’

There was a loud sound from somewhere above them, a repeated thud that sounded like nothing Dora had ever heard before. It had an almost musical tone to it. On the bottom right screen Dora watched as the horses and their riders were cut down by a devastating cannonade of what seemed to be explosive cannonballs. The bombardment lasted only two minutes, but when the guns fell silent and the smoke cleared, the field was littered with bodies, both human and animal.

‘God,’ muttered Jana.

Dora felt as if she were going to be sick.

Sweetclover was looking at the screen silently, but he had gone pale.

‘And for my encore, the
pièce de résistance
,’ said Quil. ‘This requires a little more finesse.’ Her fingers tapped away at the keyboard, which Dora noticed caused a grid of lines on the bottom left screen to move about. As she watched, she understood that Quil was causing the lines to move. She stared at the screen but could make no sense of what the lines represented, or what Quil was doing. Helpfully, Quil was happy to provide a commentary.

‘First we erect the forcefield around the wall, to prevent our soldier-boys from running away.’

Dora saw a shimmering plane appear across the gate through which the infantry men had so recently marched.

‘Then we erect a second field directly in front of them.’

Another shimmering plane appeared on the screen, this time between the soldiers and the house.

‘Then we add two more, to make the sides of the box.’

Another tap of the keyboard, and two more shimmering planes winked into being at the far edges of the line of soldiers. The last remaining cadre of parliamentary forces were now enclosed in a rectangle made of invisible walls.

‘Let’s give them a moment to work it out, shall we,’ said Quil, leaning back in her chair, folding her hands behind her head and putting her feet up on the table.

The aerial view showed a group of pikemen crash to a halt as they marched into one of the invisible barriers. Quil laughed, but Dora found the whole spectacle profoundly disturbing.

‘This is sick,’ said Jana.

‘Now you have them trapped with your magic, there is no need to kill them,’ said Dora. ‘Why could you not have done this with the cannons and the cavalry? It appears to me that you had the means to end this battle before it even started, without a drop of blood being spilled.’

‘Obviously,’ said Quil. ‘But where would the fun be in that?’

The calm, reasonable Quil who had agreed terms with Dora, and saved Mountfort’s life with the silver wand, had been replaced by a monster. Dora watched the screen, her stomach twisting in fear and disgust. The soldiers now knew they were trapped, and they were running back and forth in blind panic, pushing up against the walls of their invisible prison.