The Infinity Engines Books 1-3

by Andrew Hastie

  ‘No comms on the inside of the forcefield I’m afraid,’ Eddy apologised. ‘Security measures. Seems like my clearance is still good though. We’ll be landing in five.’ Eddy lit a long, black cigarette. ‘At least you can say you saw something of the capital before you died. What do you think of the Fifteenth City of the Ascendancy?’

  ‘Why fifteenth?’

  ‘Because the other fourteen are buried below it.’

  Eddy blew a massive cloud of purple smoke into the air, and for a moment Josh thought it took on the shape of an atomic mushroom cloud.

  The smoke smelled like a synthetic dope, and Josh could tell from the lights on the side of the cigarette that it was some kind of machine. ‘They dropped the bomb?’

  ‘Oh, more than one.’ Eddy’s eyes glazed over. ‘Like I said, science is a dangerous toy. It was carnage before the Fermian Shield went up and the Determinists stepped in.’

  7

  The Ministry

  The entrance hall of the Ministry was a vast, cathedral-like space that was carefully designed to make you feel small and insignificant the moment you walked in. In the centre of the atrium stood a towering bronze statue of a man dressed in the robes of the Order. In one hand he held an hourglass, in the other an almanac and abacus. A blindfold covered his eyes.

  Around the base of the statue was a large circular desk with the words: THE FUTURE IS NOT WRITTEN, carved into the marble in gold letters.

  There was a steady flow of people shuffling through the concourse, most of them wearing the austere, military-style uniform of the Ministry. Their faces all wore the same blank expression. No one looked at each other, and kept their eyes down on the floor. Eddy had been right to make Josh change out of his robes, as he would have stood out like a clown in the middle of an army parade.

  There were guards amongst the crowds. Josh caught sight of weapons hanging from their belts, and when he looked closer, he spotted other, more lethal devices in the walls.

  Eddy held Josh by the arm and strode up to the front desk.

  ‘Name and origination,’ intoned the stern-faced clerk from behind the desk.

  ‘Eddard Van Solomon, 28491,’ Eddy replied tersely, as if he were a superior officer.

  His details flashed up on the transparent display, with a special symbol next to his name that instantly altered the clerk’s attitude.

  ‘Good morning Lieutenant. Your prisoner is expected.’

  A large black cylinder rose up through a grate in the floor and a door opened in its side. Eddy stepped inside and dragged Josh in with him. The door cycled shut, and the elevator dropped back below the ground.

  A light glowed in the ceiling above them as they picked up speed.

  WHERE ARE WE GOING? Josh asked using his comms device.

  Eddy nodded to the indicator counting down rapidly above the door. HERETICS, I THINK. THE POSSESSION OF BANNED BOOKS IS SEEN AS SOMETHING AKIN TO HERESY.

  WHAT’S HERESY?

  BLASPHEMY? APOSTASY? NON-CONFORMIST? Eddy glared at him.

  Josh stared back at Eddy blankly.

  A BELIEF CONTRARY TO THE ACCEPTED DOCTRINE?

  BASICALLY A REBEL?

  BASICALLY.

  AND WHAT DO THEY DO TO REBELS?

  MOSTLY THEY EXECUTE THEM. AFTER THEY’VE TORTURED THEM OF COURSE.

  Josh swore under his breath.

  AND THIS WAS YOUR BEST PLAN?

  Eddy shrugged.

  YOU WANTED TO MEET HER — THIS IS THE ONLY WAY. I DIDN’T SAY YOU WERE GOING TO SURVIVE TO TELL THE TALE. WHATEVER HAPPENS, I STILL GET PAID.

  Josh thought about trying to kill Eddy before they got to wherever it was they were going, but he could feel the lift was already slowing down and he couldn’t see how a dead body was going to help the situation. Instead, he thought about his mother, he still couldn’t believe they’d found a cure for her MS in this timeline. If he could find out what it was then maybe he could take the knowledge back with him. Science had never been his strong point at school, but he could memorise stuff like formulas. It didn’t matter if he didn’t know what it meant — as long as he could write it down for someone that did.

  Caitlin would know what to do. Although he was worried now that she wouldn’t remember him, or anything of their old life: the cave, the strzyga or even the picnic? If Lilz and her friends were anything to go by, he guessed not, but there would be something.

  He couldn’t say what it was, but he just knew it.

  8

  Interrogation

  It was dark, and his head hurt. Hammers pounded away behind his eyes, worse than any hangover Josh could remember, and he could taste the iron-tang of blood in his mouth.

  There was a vague memory of a question, a faint recollection of men shouting at him and each other. They argued over the book. No, not the book — something on a screen that he couldn’t see.

  He was strapped to a weird kind of chair, one that stopped him from turning his head or moving his arms and legs. He’d thought it looked vaguely like a dentist’s chair when they had dragged him into the room. Now he knew it could be so much more.

  Slowly, it came back to him.

  They’d started by asking him stupid questions about the damned book: where had he got it from? Didn’t he know it was banned material? Who was he working for?

  There was nothing he could think to say, so they prodded him with their sharp little tools and inserted electrodes into sensitive areas and turned the current up until he passed out.

  When they finally realised that the machines had failed, they brought a ‘redactor’ down to read him. It was at that point the arguing really started. The redactor was basically a seer, but he was no master, not like Kelly or Lyra. A brute of a man, both in appearance and technique, Josh could feel the clumsy fool rummaging around in his memories until he finally reached the same conclusion as the others.

  ‘Paradox?’ they whispered to each other, like children using a forbidden word for the first time. Then the shouting began, each trying to blame the other as they traded insults for over an hour before one of them finally decided to inform their commander. Josh passed out many times during that torturous hour, but always managed to smile inanely at them whenever he was lucid enough. Someone was going to get their arse kicked for this — they were just working out who it should be.

  Then she came.

  In his semi-conscious state her voice was like something from a dream. It was Caitlin — there was no mistaking her dulcet tones, even if they were more hard-edged and full of implied threats.

  ‘What exactly did you do to him?’ she barked.

  A mumble of excuses ensued that Josh couldn’t be bothered to try and follow. They were all desperately trying to save their own necks.

  ‘Leave. All of you. Now!’ Caitlin ordered in a tone that implied they were all going to suffer for their incompetence.

  Josh heard the grinding sound of the metal doors opening and the hollow echo of boots marching away down the corridor. When the door finally closed there was a blissful silence. He wondered whether this was a good time to mention he needed the bathroom. Through bleary eyes he scanned what little of the room the head restraints would allow, but he couldn’t tell if anyone was left.

  Caitlin stepped in front of him. Her face was thin and gaunt, and her beautiful hair had been cropped short into a severe bob.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re the one. Not after all this time,’ she sneered, running her gloved hand over his face.

  Josh’s mouth was too dry to answer, so he just stared into her eyes, wishing he could kiss her.

  She held up his tachyon and waved it in front of his face. ‘Can you tell me who you stole this from?’

  He blinked at her. ‘You gave it to me.’

  Caitlin unbuckled one of his arms and lifted it up to expose the tattoo of the snake, which was the moment when he realised they'd taken his clothes.

  ‘And this, where on earth did you get this done? Some Shade flesh carver I suppose?’ she
snapped. ‘I’ve heard they call us Magii down there. Is that where you’ve come from? You don’t look sick enough to be one of them, but your ID is a fake, and we’ve no record of your origination. You know that imitating a member of the Order is a capital offence? That you’re a dead man?’

  Her uniform was long and made of black leather, with a line of silver buttons running down the front. It reminded Josh of the Order’s formal robes, but with overtones of dominatrix.

  ‘Cat,’ was all that Josh could manage before he passed out again.

  A hand struck him across the face.

  ‘Wake up.’

  The voice was deep, and reminded him of someone he knew: it had an arrogant, self-assured tone.

  ‘It’s no use. Don’t you think I’ve tried?’ said Caitlin. ‘Your men were over-zealous with their medication.’

  Something touched the skin on his arm. It felt cold and sharp.

  ‘So you think that he might be the Paradox?’ pondered the unmistakable voice of Sim.

  Josh wanted to open his eyes, but his body was still numb. He guessed they’d just given him something to counteract the sedative.

  ‘He’s not supposed to exist — a statistical impossibility.’

  ‘And how many people died over that assumption?’ Caitlin reminded them.

  ‘Hah! Might as well be a bloody unicorn for all the difference it will make now. He’s a century too late,’ said the vaguely familiar voice.

  Then Josh remembered — it was Dalton.

  ‘When did he come from?’

  ‘The last Copernican predictions that we intercepted were pointing towards a minor branch of the Westinghouse interdiction, but that was still resolving to less than a sixty-three per cent probability,’ Sim said. Josh could hear him flicking through the pages of his almanac.

  ‘From a redacted timeline?’ There was a hint of disbelief in Caitlin’s voice, and Josh felt tears welling in his eyes as he tried to keep them shut.

  ‘Let’s just finish him and forget it,’ Dalton growled. ‘We don’t have time for this prophecy bullshit. The last thing we need now is another round of religious hysteria stirring up the resistance — let’s not give them a martyr to sacrifice themselves to.’

  Josh could feel the sensations returning in his fingertips, like a slow, creeping wave of pins and needles, as if he’d slept on them.

  ‘We can’t terminate him. We’ve no idea what he’s here to do,’ Sim protested.

  ‘This is a matter for the High Council,’ Caitlin decided. ‘Leave him to me.’

  As the others left, Josh passed out again.

  ‘Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end;

  Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.’

  Caitlin stood over him, her eyes dark and hard as before. She’d taken off her overcoat and was wearing a long, sleeveless tunic with a high collar. In her hand, she held Eddy’s book of sonnets.

  ‘Do you know I can have you killed for this?’ she asked, closing the book.

  ‘Cat?’ Josh murmured deliriously.

  ‘Minister Eckhart,’ she reminded him, putting down the book and picking up a glass of water. She held it up to his lips to let him drink.

  ‘Thanks,’ gasped Josh after he'd drained it.

  ‘Who are you?’

  The question was more painful than any electrode or needle could have been. The confirmation that everything they had experienced had been obliterated in three simple words was almost too much for him to bear.

  ‘I was your friend, once. In another time.’

  Caitlin ignored him. Instead, she lifted up his arm and examined the tattoo.

  ‘You’re of the Order?’

  ‘Fourteenth millennial,’ Josh said, nodding. ‘We went back there together. It was kind of an accident.’ He thought it was wiser to leave out the details for the moment.

  Caitlin scoffed. ‘No one has been back that far! It’s impossible.’

  ‘Not where I’ve come from. We watched the mammoths cross Doggerland. We started our own tribe.’ He was hoping the words would trigger some kind of latent memory in her, but there was nothing but disbelief in her eyes.

  ‘The past has been closed for over a hundred years,’ she said, the anger flushing across her cheeks. ‘No one can go back to yesterday, let alone fourteen thousand years — you’re lying. The Paradox was supposed to come from the future.’

  There was a click and Caitlin was suddenly pointing a gun at his face. ‘Who sent you?’

  ‘Cat, chill out,’ Josh pleaded. ‘Why would I lie?’

  He held her gaze, even though the metallic scent of cordite told him that the gun had been fired recently. Josh knew better than to look away — Lenin had taught him a long time ago that people find it hard to shoot someone who’s looking them straight in the eye.

  ‘Because your followers killed my parents.’ Her voice trembled a little as she spoke.

  ‘My followers?’

  ‘The Chaotics, they predicted you — the all-knowing Paradox. They said you would come, that you would know how to fix everything, and we didn’t believe them. The world was falling apart, and they were holding out for a fairytale.’

  ‘And so how did that end up with your parents dying?’

  ‘Don’t come the innocent. Everyone played their part in the Great War.’

  ‘You went to war?’

  ‘The Copernicans were wiped out.’

  ‘Because of me?’

  ‘Because people were stupid enough to believe that one man could change the future.’

  Then Josh saw the scar, the fine white line on the inside of her right arm. The wound that she’d got from playing with her father’s sword.

  ‘Listen, in my timeline your parents are just missing — not dead. You told me about them, how they were the greatest nautonniers ever. You even told me how you got that scar playing with your dad’s sword.’

  Her expression softened for a second and he saw the faintest glimmer of hope in her eyes, but then it was gone.

  ‘I have many scars,’ she growled.

  ‘The one on your arm, you call it a fated wound.’

  The gun lowered, and Josh saw there were tears in her eyes.

  ‘In your time they didn’t die?’

  ‘No.’

  Something broke inside her, and she collapsed into a chair and sobbed. The gun hung loosely from her hand until it dropped and clattered onto the floor.

  ‘How? How could you know that?’ she said to herself. ‘It doesn’t make any sense.’

  Josh allowed himself a breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

  ‘I need to get to the colonel. He will know what to do.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Westinghouse. Rufius Westinghouse.’

  The gun was back in her hand once more, and she was on her feet, her finger trembling over the trigger.

  ‘And why exactly should I help you find the Butcher of Bastei Bridge?’

  From the spite in her voice, it was clear she hated the old man — Josh had no idea why, but if she couldn’t help him, then the colonel may be the only one who could help him repair the timeline and put the continuum back on track.

  ‘Because, if I can get him to help me, there’s a good chance you won’t feel as empty as you do now?’

  Caitlin’s fingers flexed on the butt of the gun, and Josh closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look into the despair any longer. She was so close to blowing his brains out, and all he could think about was the way she’d smiled at him that first time they had met in the library. Fate was a devious little bastard when it wanted to be.

  ‘You’re going to need to give me something better than that.’

  ‘Okay.’ Josh took a deep breath. ‘From what I can figure out, something has gone really badly wrong with this timeline. Something has taken you down a different path. The Caitlin I know would never have married an Eckhart, and she would have rat
her died than become a Determinist — let alone destroy a book. You love books! You used to say that they were the closest thing to magic!’

  There it was again, that slight tremble in her lip. Her resolve was weakening. Josh saw his opportunity and took it.

  ‘Whatever crap this life has thrown at you, I know somewhere deep down you’re still the same person. We were meant to meet each other, we always have been. You even showed me once on one of those chart things the Copernicans use.’

  ‘Fatecasting? That’s heresy,’ she said with a hint of a smile, and Josh knew he was close.

  ‘And after all, I am the Paradox — it’s like my destiny.’

  She stood with her eye sighted down the barrel of the gun, a thousand different thoughts spinning inside her head.

  So much rested on what she did next, Josh could feel the lines of the continuum clustering around this moment, yet all he could do was remember the girl he fell in love with.

  ‘Alright,’ she said, sighing and putting the weapon back in its holster. ‘But any smart moves and it’s you I will be shooting first.’

  She took out a sharp knife and sliced open the restraints on his legs and wrist.

  ‘We need to get back to 11.558. I’m guessing you have a way to do that?’ Josh asked, massaging the blood back into his left hand.

  ‘I won’t be able to go back with you.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’ll be missed, and the last thing you want is a Protectorate search detail on your arse. No matter how cute it is.’

  She threw him a set of robes.

  Josh caught them. ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Plus, I’m not sure I would be very welcome back there,’ she added, turning to leave.

  9

  Typewriter

  ‘Is that it?’ exclaimed Josh.