‘I do. But I do not understand why you wish to DESTROY an invaluable historic Leapling artefact merely because it reminds you of your nemesis.’
‘My enemies are more numerous than Infinity. There are others who wish to thwart us. That girl—’
‘Elle?’
‘A glitch on my timeline.’
‘You fear youth?’ Meridian raises her eyebrows.
‘She is extraordinarily talented. I saw it when she swore the Oath and I have seen it since. But she cannot be working alone.’
‘Leader, tempus fugit. And time flies even faster in English. You have stated your case and your case is flawed. Out of sight is out of mind. Let us remove it, sell it and enjoy the profit. What is the fate of the Infinity-Glass? Is it to be destroyed or preserved?’
‘I stand firm in my conviction,’ says Millennia. ‘Therefore, we will follow the ancient protocol. As happens in a clash of Elders, The Vicious Circle must take a vote. In preparation . . .’
As Millennia explains the system, I hold the side of the table to stop myself from shaking. I was OK until I heard my own name. But now I’m struggling. There’s too much to process and I’m in terrible danger. If only I could crawl under the table and decompress. The only thing saving me is my lack of status. Here, in this disguise and outside The Vicious Circle, I’m invisible. No one cares who I am. And yet I’m Elle, and Millennia hates and fears me almost as much as she hates and fears Infinity.
I continue taking deep breaths and focus back on Millennia announcing the vote.
‘Those who wish to destroy the Infinity-Glass, raise their hands.’
Millennia and The Grandfather raise their hands and look round the circle. After several long, uncomfortable seconds, Mr Oily Hair raises his hand half-mast and Seven follows.
‘Four members for destruction,’ says Millennia. She pauses. ‘Those who wish to preserve it for profit?’
Meridian, Evil Nine and both teens raise their hands.
‘Four members for preservation.’ Millennia gives the teens the cat’s eye; she can barely get her words out. ‘And those too cowardly to commit to one side or the other and who wish to abstain?’
The remaining three people raise their hands.
Millennia goes into loudspeaker mode. ‘It appears the conflict is evenly balanced, four against four. On such occasions, we must resort to the full Circle. We have one missing member, Eight. Eight must cast their vote by Chronophone.’
Everyone takes out their phones, placing them on the table. Millennia fumbles in her robe and produces a purple phone. She taps into it. Everyone’s looking at their screens, avoiding Millennia’s eye. A few seconds later, her face tightens like a fist.
‘It appears,’ she says, ‘The Vicious Circle have voted five against four to preserve this offensive artefact. Remove it from my sight IMMEDIATELY. And,’ looking at me, ‘all evidence of this episode.’
Mr Oily Hair quickly steps forward. ‘We will find the best buyer for this artefact, esteemed Millennia. My sister can—’
‘I know what your sister can do. The case of this INFINITY-Glass is closed. However, I would pay a small fortune to have a glimpse of this same hourglass BEFORE someone saw fit to deface it with infinity symbols. The association of Dr Johnson and 1752 pleases me beyond measure. Of course, we will not be able to sell it; once I have SEEN it, it must be returned to the time and place it was taken. But see it I must. Who will do the job?’
‘How much?’
‘Enough to make it worth the risk.’
Mr Oily Hair rubs his hands together. ‘It is a complex crime as we don’t know the exact date the engravings were made. But I’m prepared to arrange it.’
Meridian shakes her head. ‘Leader, you go too far. Are you suggesting one of our circle steals and transports a precious glass object from the 18th century to the present day? If it breaks mid-leap, the current aged artefact would not exist for us to sell. You would risk jeopardising both our profit and every single historical event relating to the Glass. The consequences would be catastrophic.’
‘Meridian, you know as well as I that Leapers have leapt back in time to attempt to change the past but failed. Maybe one day someone will succeed.’ Millennia pauses for three long seconds. ‘In the meantime, we might WISH to alter events on our timelines but the past is fixed. There can be no alternative timeline, no other chain of events from the ones that have already taken place. Furthermore, if a body-blinking boy can transport watches, The Vicious Circle can transport an hourglass and return it from whence it came.’
Meridian purses her lips. Mr Oily Hair clears his throat.
‘Esteemed Millennia, your wish is—’
Millennia raises her hands flat like she’s pushing a heavy object. Mr Oily Hair bows so low, it looks like he’s stretching his hamstrings. He lifts the Glass from the table and pushes what I thought was an oak panel directly behind Millennia. It’s a door! Only then do I notice there are identical panels behind every seat. There must be 12 antechambers leading off this room. He motions me to follow. I gladly obey.
If I’d stayed any longer in that room, I’d DEFINITELY have given myself away by going down on my hands and knees and crawling under the table. But now I’m in the antechamber, out of danger, part of me wants to hit him on the head, wrestle the Infinity-Glass out of his grasp and leap, but he’d be too strong. Even if I took him by surprise, I wouldn’t be able to leap away in time. In fact, I might not be able to leap at all. No. I have to continue playing along. He gives me another oily smile.
‘You did well. You’ll be amply rewarded. Now disappear!’
Oh my Chrono, I have to leap now! Have I got my strength back? I concentrate on the long-jump pit but what time shall I leap back to? Should I stick to my original plan of 9:30 in the evening? I don’t want to leap back too early in case I mess with space–time or, worse, collide with myself. And what about the thief? They might be trying to leap here at the same time. I close my eyes, focus on the pit and 9:30 p.m. Luckily, my strength HAS come back. The familiar fizzy feeling takes over my body; I take a few deep breaths and feel the beginnings of a delicate breeze on my face before I open my eyes.
Big Ben is sitting on the grass in front of me.
‘Elle?’ he says.
I un-velcro the headpiece, shocked how damp my face is underneath.
‘I got the Glass but . . .’
I have to sit down, suddenly overcome with everything that’s happened, and can’t finish the sentence. Admitting I had to deliver it into enemy hands is like experiencing it twice. Big Ben shuffles forward on his bottom and puts his arms round me tightly, how I like it. Then he gives me space.
‘Is it in your bag?’
I shake my head.
‘It’s OK,’ he says. ‘I want you to be OK.’
We sit for a few minutes on the grass, saying nothing at all. Big Ben’s the only person I can be silent with and feel comfortable. He doesn’t keep talking to try to calm me down. He knows when I need time-out. But he also knows we could still be in danger so we can’t stay here too long.
‘The thief leapt here,’ he says. ‘I thought it was you but they ran away from me. You never run away. They didn’t run very fast, though.’
I smile. They must have been as tired as I was after we wrestled then collided mid-leap. Like me, they didn’t have the strength to leap back straight away. It takes it out of you.
‘Where did they go?’ I’ve got my voice back.
‘Don’t know.’
‘They didn’t leap back to The Vicious Circle. I would have seen them.’
And then I tell Big Ben everything that happened, from the wrestling in the tunnel of time to the final vote. I can see he’s impressed.
‘The thief didn’t leap back to the Circle this morning in case they met you?’
‘No, BB. They were scared they’d get exited for losing the Glass.’
‘Exited?’
‘I think it means kicked out of The Vicious Circle. B
ut when they say exit, it sounds really scary, like kill,’ I say. ‘Nine wants to exit Millennia. Meridian says only SHE has the right to do it. They all hate each other.’
‘But they sent the Lamborghini to kill US.’
I’d forgotten about that. So much has happened this evening.
‘The thief must have said something. How would they know to find us on the school drive this evening?’ I stand up. ‘BB, I’m scared.’
‘No,’ says Big Ben. ‘You’re brave, not scared.’
Big Ben’s kind but I AM scared. I want all The Vicious Circle to be arrested and locked up in jail but we have no proof. It would be my word against theirs and then I’d be in even more danger. Anyway, I delivered the stolen Infinity-Glass straight into their hands. They could accuse me of that and I’d be the one in prison!
On top of those thoughts, too many questions are colliding in my head.
Who tried to kill us to stop us leaping?
Who’s the thief?
And who’s the mystery number Eight who voted to preserve the Infinity-Glass?
Chapter 07:00
CODE-BREAKING
As soon as I wake up the next morning, I know one thing for sure. I’m NOT going to school. If I go to school today, I might go into shutdown with everything that happened yesterday. It wasn’t the physical challenge of leaping in time or jumping sideways into the trees to avoid being killed by the hitcar, it was EMOTIONAL overload. The shock of MC2 being put in prison; GMT admitting she used to be a cat burglar; and the hardest part of all, me pretending to be a cat burglar for The Vicious Circle, unable to shout out the truth. Pretending to be someone else, someone not autistic, has exhausted me. When autistic people act like they’re not autistic to fit in, they call it masking. I was double-masking yesterday; not being true to myself AND wearing an actual disguise.
I did a brilliant job at keeping quiet. I don’t think anyone suspected me. But it cost me. This morning, I can hardly get out of bed. And I know, without trying to speak, that I’m tongue-tied. If I was feeling a bit stronger, I’d THINK about trying to get the Infinity-Glass back. It’s Tuesday, the theft only happened yesterday morning, yet we have to find it soon and prove MC2is innocent before his trial. They haven’t set a date yet; we need to find strong evidence to set him free before they find evidence to convict him. But I must look after myself. I need rest and total quiet.
I used to live under the table on days like this, the tablecloth like the walls of a tent. I’m too tall to do that now so I sit on my sofa bed, and pull the white sheet completely over me. I have my Chronophone and laptop in case I want to contact someone but no one’s going to contact me. I know I won’t be disturbed by Grandma because she’s sleeping in after the extra cleaning job she did last night. I wish she didn’t have to do it – her leg is paining her again – but we need the money. The landlord put the rent up but the flat’s more run-down than ever.
Big Ben often texts me at breaktime when I’m not in but today he’s on a maths trip so won’t be texting till lunchtime. And I won’t be disturbed by Mrs C Eckler because she’s already responded to my text telling her I need time-out today.
My brain’s playing tricks on me. It happens when I’m overstimulated and my brain ought to let me relax but instead it latches onto something and keeps repeating it. Sometimes it’s my favourite visual of all time, the black-and-white film of Bob Beamon’s record-breaking long jump in Mexico City, 1968; sometimes it’s a catchy song lyric and it doesn’t matter whether I like it or not, I can’t get it out of my head; and sometimes, like now, it’s a sentence.
This is what I hear: ‘France is 1752’ in the voice of MC2.
Everything about it is wrong. It doesn’t make any sense: you can’t allocate a year to a country. And why a leap year? And why 1752? But it MUST relate to the theft.
MC2 wasn’t himself when he said it. He was MC2 minus the Squared! So maybe he was talking gibberish. Or maybe it’s a brilliant clue and I have to work it out.
His VOICE was all wrong. It sounded distorted, like he was underwater. It was too quiet; it was too slow. He was running on empty. I repeat the words in my own voice, in my head, to drown out his.
France is 1752. FRANCE is 1752. France IS 1752.
No. Changing the emphasis doesn’t help. I put my Chronophone into note mode. Something’s niggling me. I need to see the words outside my head. Then, maybe, I can start to make sense of them. I write them down in a circle like this:
and I’m reminded of The Vicious Circle, 12 figures. Maybe MC2knows something about The Vicious Circle. He certainly knows a lot about Millennia; he used to work for her at the Time Squad, in the future. I know that sounds impossible but it’s normal for Leaplings to work in the past, present or future.
I wish I had Big Ben here to help me. He’s very good at problem-solving. Big Ben would latch onto the numbers. He thinks more in numbers than in words. He sees patterns other people don’t see. But I don’t think this is about maths, it’s about logic. Big Ben says logic is a type of maths. What does 1752 MEAN? A unique leap year but what else? Why didn’t MC2say France is 1616 or 1884 or 2000? I’m stuck on 1752.
I can’t think like Big Ben. I can only think like me. I love words, the sight, the sound and the feel of them. MC2 likes words too but he’s more into the SOUND. That’s why he’s an MC! And yesterday, he didn’t sound like himself when he said ‘France is . . .’ I imagine how he would normally say it. He’d rap it, run his words together, yet every syllable would be crisp.
‘France is, France-is, Francis.’
Of course! It was never two words, it was one and the word was FRANCIS. I’ve cracked half the code. Brilliant! I don’t need to go to France, I can solve the mystery here!
Francis 1752. Maybe Francis is the real thief and he lives in 1752. But how would MC2 know he was the thief? Francis must be one of his friends. And 1752 is still too vague. There must be hundreds of Francises who live in 1752. Which one would it be?
My Chronophone begins to buzz but I ignore it. It isn’t a number I recognise. It stops buzzing and a number comes up onto the screen: 1984 and beneath it, Unknown. I wonder who it was. Certainly a Leapling who has a strong connection with 1984.
Chronophones only use four-digit numbers; the Time Squad number was 2000. Four-digit numbers. Of course! It’s so obvious I didn’t even think of it: 1752 must be a telephone number! Francis 1752 is Francis’s telephone number. And he’s likely to live in 1752, too!
I check my phone. The person left a message. I don’t feel like listening to someone’s voice right now. I’ve spent the past half-hour with voices in my head: MC2 underwater, my own voice, MC2 rapping. Now I’ve cracked the code, there’s no time to waste. I create a new contact: FRANCIS, type in 1752 and press save. Then I text:
MC squared is in prison. I’m his friend Elle. Can you help?
Concentrating hard on the year 1752, I press send. And then I start shaking. What have I done? Maybe I’ve just texted the criminal! But it’s too late now, I can’t intercept it. It must have hit their inbox already. It will have automatically gone to the same date as now in 1752: the 22nd of June.
I walk into the kitchen for a glass of water. When I sit down at the kitchen table, I’m reminded of sitting at the table last night with Big Ben and GMT. I feel bad, sad; the sadness is a physical pain in my chest. I shouted at GMT. She must hate me now. I want to make things better but I’m still not sure whether I can trust her.
But maybe I have no choice. I think of The Infinites ceremony we had in 2048: Kwesi, GMT and MC2, already Level 3 Infinites; Big Ben and me, Level 1 new recruits; Noon, Eve and Ama as witnesses. Noon and Eve are Leapling twins from 1924 and Ama is Kwesi’s Annual sister. I was SO happy. Then I think how different it is today: MC2 in prison, unable to rap; Kwesi’s text, Don’t do nothing without me but we went behind his back; GMT banished from my flat; and me, off school and alone. Only Big Ben’s having a good time. I need my space but I miss my friends. And they’re n
ot only friends, they’re talented crime-fighters who ROOT FOR THE FUTURE. I can’t lie to them or keep back vital information. Finally, I think of The Vicious Circle sitting around the table, arguing amongst themselves. We don’t want to end up like that, evil and dishonest and hating each other.
I send a mega-text to all The Infinites:
URGENT MEET THE MUSH-ROOMS AT 4 TODAY
We can’t let The Vicious Circle win!
The meeting starts badly!
Kwesi’s cross we did the exact opposite of what he told us.
GMT looks only at the damp patch behind the television where mushrooms grow every winter.
Big Ben only wants to talk about the Leaping Lamborghini because he’s been overstimulated at his maths day and always talks about cars to decompress.
But when I tell them about Millennia and the ancient-infant called The Grandfather and the mystery number Eight who cast the winning vote, things get much better.
Kwesi high-fives me, GMT smiles and Big Ben repeats, ‘You’re brave, not scared.’
We plan another meeting for the following night to work out how to get the Infinity-Glass back. We can’t meet earlier because Big Ben and I must attend the Music, Maths and Movement, aka Triple M, Activity Day. There were hundreds of applications for only 24 places. I got on for my outstanding sprinting and Big Ben for his maths talent. We’d be letting our school down if we pulled out. Kwesi now agrees MC2 was right after all: Big Ben and I should take the lead. I can see by his face he’s still uncomfortable about something but impressed what we’ve achieved so far, considering we’re only Level 1s. He signs, ending with ∞ 8.
‘You’ve proved you’re fit for Level 2. Next time, bring the Glass back.’
I make everyone leave when I hear Grandma struggling with her keys at the front door. But I feel warm and fuzzy inside. The Infinites are on the right track. But as I open the door to Grandma, who sings, ‘Elle Bíbi Imbelé’ like she always does when she’s in a good mood, I remember something.
The Time-Thief Page 5
