by Lauren James
CHAPTER 23
Voice message left by Clove Sutcliffe at 13:29 on 4 January 2059:
Hey … I guess you’re in a class or something. I got your message. I hate fighting with you too. And obviously I forgive you. I was never really that mad at you.
This was all completely different to 1745 or 2040 or whatever anyway. It’s not a big deal. I probably made it sound like I was angrier than I was. I’m sorry if you’ve been worrying. It was nice, the surprise party.
I just … [loud exhalation] I hate when you make plans without telling me. I like to be in control. You’re very impulsive and mysterious – and I like that about you! It just takes a lot of getting used to. Especially when I don’t know what’s going on.
Obviously I’ve never, like … I’ve never done any of this relationship stuff before. I know I can be too harsh. I don’t know… I feel like this was my fault.
Anyway… I’m meeting Meg for lunch, so talk to you soon? We can discuss your many, many feelings about aliens then. [brief laugh]
Oh and … I don’t find it annoying that you’re always taking selfies. It would be pretty hypocritical of me if I did, seeing as I’m using one of your selfies as the lock screen on my watch.
I miss you. Bye.
File note: Voice message left for ELENORE WALKER from CLOVE SUTCLIFFE on 4 January 2059
Carlisle, England, 1745
The next day Clove went about her work in a daze. At the first opportunity, she escaped upstairs as quickly as possible. As she headed to her room, she caught sight of Katherine crossing the hall below and was reminded of how oddly she had acted when Clove had gone to her room that morning.
Katherine had been brushing her hair at the dressing table when Clove had arrived.
“You asked for this, Miss?” Clove had said, holding out a package of Matthew’s clothes for Katherine to wear at the castle. Katherine had told Matthew the night before that she wanted to help build up the city’s defences. Clove had been relieved to hear it. It meant she hadn’t accidentally changed the past – at least not yet.
“Oh! Yes, thank you.” Katherine had taken the package, smiling at the pheasant feather that Matthew had tucked into the knot.
“Will there be anything else?” Clove had asked, ducking her head to hide a grin. Her parents were so sweet.
Katherine had run her fingers along the feather, deliberately not looking at Clove. “Have you had any news of the Jacobites?” she had asked.
Clove had tried not to frown. Katherine’s tone was too carefully casual. Besides, why would she come to Clove for news … unless she had heard something of her conversation with Matthew yesterday?
“I haven’t, no.”
“What – what do you think of the rebellion? Do you think it has any chance of success?”
“I don’t really know much about it, Miss.”
“Oh, really? I thought I heard you discussing it with the coachman.” Katherine’s voice had turned sharp, fast.
Clove had realized, slightly amused and concerned, that Katherine was suspicious of Matthew. Did she really think he was a Rebel? Clove hadn’t known what to say. Every time she opened her mouth she only seemed to make things worse. She had done the only thing she could think of, which had been to excuse herself and run from the room.
She sighed now. She really hoped she hadn’t broken the future. As she entered the room she shared with Ella, she caught sight of a flashing light coming from behind the flowerpot on the windowsill. Her heart jumped into her throat. Her watch! It was working again!
Clove almost cried with relief when she turned it on and Spart’s typical greeting of HELLO CLOVE appeared on the screen.
“Spart!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking. “I can’t even explain how good it is to see you.”
> I believe I feel the same in reference to yourself. What has happened since—
> CLOVE, I am picking up a radio signal.
> It’s a message. The communication is broadcasting on a loop.
“What? What does it say?”
> It’s from me. To be specific, the message is from the copy of my program which you left on the time machine’s hard drive in the laboratory at the University of St Andrews in 2056.
> SPART-LAB must be sending the radio signal through the wormhole to 1745 and broadcasting it on a loop to make sure I pick up the message.
> Message reads:
CLOVE SUTCLIFFE COME HOME AM RUNNING OUT OF MEMORY CANNOT CONTROL WORMHOLE MUCH LONGER SPART
CLOVE SUTCLIFFE COME HOME AM RUNNING OUT OF MEMORY CAN NOT CONTROL WORMHOLE MUCH LONGER SPART
CLOVE SUTCLIFFE COME HOME AM RUNNING OUT OF MEMORY CAN NOT CONTROL WORMHOLE MUCH LONGER SPART
“We have to go! Now! If you’re running out of memory then I could be stranded!” Just the thought made Clove frantic. She had to go home. Now. She couldn’t stay here, not if it would be for ever. She’d had enough time to consider the consequences of that happening. She knew she couldn’t do it.
Clove began throwing her belongings into her bag. “Is the message still running? He’s still there?” she asked, buckling her watch onto her wrist.
> It’s still broadcasting. I have sent a radio message back to tell SPART-LAB our coordinates, so that he can open the wormhole here immediately. I’m scanning for a reply now.
> You should hurry. If SPART-LAB runs out of storage then he can’t operate the wormhole to bring you home.
“I’m going. Give him the coordinates for the stables. There’ll be enough room for the wormhole to open there without anyone seeing it – and I need to talk to Matthew before I leave.” She had seen Matthew at lunch, when she had warned him that Katherine was suspicious that he might be a Rebel, but there was still so much she wanted to say to him.
When Clove burst through the stable door, Matthew was feeding the horses. He looked up at her in surprise, his eyes widening. “Clove? What are you wearing?”
“Matthew, I need to go!” Clove exclaimed, panting from the run and already sweating in the radiation suit.
“Go? Where?”
“Home! I have to leave! It’s an … it’s an emergency!”
Matthew blinked at her. “Are you coming back?”
“I don’t know.” Clove checked her watch. The screen was still showing the message:
> … broadcasting to SPART-LAB …
“Probably not. I mean, it’s really, really unlikely. I’m so sorry.” Clove felt a sudden desperate urge to hug Matthew. “I’m so glad I met you. I wish we’d had longer to talk. I have so much to tell you. You will remember what I said, won’t you? About not changing things? I don’t know what will happen if you do.”
“I promise,” Matthew said.
Clove didn’t entirely believe him. “I have to go,” she repeated.
“Let me walk you to the gate,” Matthew said.
“No, now, here.”
Matthew just stared at her.
“You have to leave,” she said. He couldn’t be here, not when the wormhole opened.
“What? I thought you were leaving…” His words trailed off. The air in front of them had started to tremble.
“You promised me,” Clove repeated urgently, watching the shimmering air. “Remember. Don’t change anything.”
“What is that—?” Matthew had gone pale.
“Goodbye,” Clove said. The wormhole had appeared, and she could see a glimpse of the lab through it. She swallowed, and took a step towards it. “Promise me,” she urged again. “Don’t change anything about the future. You have to let Katherine die. That’s what has to happen.”
“I promise.” Matthew forced the words out. He couldn’t take his eyes off the wormhole.
Taking one last look at Matthew’s shocked face, Clove put on the helmet and then stepped through the wormhole. The sky tilted into the ground. Her body was heavy and light and solid and liquid all at once, and then she landed with a crash on the floor of the lab, the air bursting from her lungs at the impact.
Matthew’s last words echoed in her mind: “I promise.” Clove wasn’t sure she believed him.
CHAPTER 24
Ella—
I had to leave. I’m sorry, it’s an emergency. I didn’t have time to say goodbye .
I wish we’d been able to spend more time together. I wish I didn’t have to leave you behind.
Thank you for all your help with everything. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. Meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Don’t get into too much trouble without me .
Love Your friend,
Clove Sutcliffe
P.S. The scarf is a gift. It will suit you .
Folios/v1/Time-landscape-1745/MS-10
File note: Found in the servants’ quarters of subject allocation “KATHERINE”’s home on 16 September 1745
UNIVERSITY OF ST ANDREWS CAMPUS, SCOTLAND, 2056
Clove let out a low groan and blinked away the glowing phosphenes from her eyes. Time travel didn’t get more fun the second time around, apparently. Clove reached up to push off the suit’s helmet. At least this part was easier, now that she wasn’t under water.
Rolling onto her side, she noticed that the lab was empty. The security guard who had been chasing her was gone. How long had she been in 1745?
“What happened, Spart?” she asked the version of Spart that she’d left in the time machine’s computer. “How have you run out of memory? Weren’t you going to use the lab computer’s hard drive for storage?” She wriggled out of the suit and stood up, grimacing. She’d forgotten how terrible the muscle ache was from time travel. She walked stiffly over to the desk to read Spart’s message.
> I am unable to gain access to the hard drive to use its memory as we had planned. It is encrypted − presumably in an attempt to prevent the theft of valuable research.
> I didn’t want to risk leaving you deserted if I ran out of memory, so I broadcast a radio message through the wormhole to SPART-WATCH and waited.
> I’m nearly at the storage limit. I deleted most of my non-essential functions.
“What time is it?”
> It has been twenty minutes since you left.
Twenty minutes! If she had only been gone that long in this timeline then she could get home without her parents missing her, even though she’d been in the past for seven days!
> I’m very curious to find out what you learnt. However, you should leave immediately. There’s still a chance you might get caught. The security guard left to radio for help.
Clove blanched at the thought of being arrested. It was definitely not the way she wanted to end her adventure. After folding up the suit, Clove put it back in the trunk, then unhooked the memory card from the back of the computer.
After double-checking the lab for any other signs of her break-in, she opened the door. The corridor outside was dark. She blinked to adjust her vision and then walked up the stairs, listening for any noise. She made it to the ground floor, where the lights were on, and was about to walk down the hallway to the main entrance when she froze. The lights were automatic. If they were on, it meant someone had been walking around here very recently.
She could hear voices coming towards her.
“She just disappeared into the machine!” one said, sounding outraged. It must be the security guard.
“I’m sure she’s just hiding, Sir,” said another.
Hiding! That was a good idea. Clove looked about for a good spot. If she was quick she might be able to get inside one of the classrooms before they turned the corner and saw her − unless the door was locked. She would have to risk it.
She dived for the nearest door, and got inside just before the police officer and security guard turned the corner. She shut the door behind her and held her breath, listening to their footsteps go down the stairs to the lab in the basement. As soon as she heard the click of the lab door shutting behind them, she hurried out of the room and sprinted towards freedom.
She was finally going home. She was alive and she hadn’t been caught. Everything had gone perfectly to plan. Clove tried to tell herself that she was happy about what had happened, but the images of Ella, to whom she’d never even said goodbye, and Matthew, whom she’d abandoned in the middle of everything, wouldn’t leave her mind.
CHAPTER 25
WANTED, two household maids for a small family, to clean part of the house, wash, iron and bake. Must have good Characters from places where they have served in the above capacity, and be good-tempered and cleanly.
Due to the abrupt departure of two previous maids without an official resignation, this position must be filled promptly. Enquire to the Finchley family, Annetwell Street, Carlisle, without delay. No Scottish servants or Jacobite sympathizers need apply, regardless of whether they otherwise meet the above description.
Folios/v1/Time-landscape-1745/MS-11
File note: Advertisement posted in The Carlisle Courier on 18 September 1745
ST ANDREWS, SCOTLAND, 2056
Clove jerked awake, sending bath water splashing out of the tub and onto the floor. Someone was trying to open the bathroom door.
After she’d walked home from the university, she’d run a bath while eating a packet of smoky bacon crisps. Even though she had been exhausted, she had to wash before she could even think about going to sleep. She had been deprived of shampoo and shower gel for so long that she could smell herself. It wasn’t pleasant. She had sunk into the warm water, letting herself drift into a contented doze, and fallen asleep.
“I’m in the bath!” she called out to the person outside. She was shivering. The water had gone cold.
There was silence.
“Who is this?” Tom said.
Clove sat up, bubbles dissolving into nothing around her. Her muscles had all seized up. She was seriously considering never time-travelling again, if she was always going to feel like death afterwards.
“It’s me, Dad.”
There was another silence.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s late. Did I wake you? I have a headache,” she explained. “I thought a bath might help.” She was desperately trying to calculate what day it was now. Friday? Or wait, no, Spart said she had arrived back through the wormhole twenty minutes after she’d left. That must mean it was the early hours of Saturday.
“What are you doing in my house?” Tom said, and this time his voice was low and threatening.
“Dad?”
“Who is this? Let me in, right now.”
“Dad? It’s Clove.”
Why was he being so weird? Climbing out of the bath, she reached for a towel. But where there was usually a neat stack of folded towels, there was nothing. Clove suddenly felt dislocated in her own bathroom. There were no towels anywhere – and now she was looking, there were none of her other things either.
Where were all her toiletries? Why was there—?
There was only one toothbrush on the sink.
Clove grabbed her clothes from her rucksack and pulled them on, trying not to panic. The room hadn’t been like this when she’d arrived. When she’d cleaned her teeth before her bath, everything had been in its place.
She didn’t know what any of this meant.
“Come out now,” Tom said. “Or I’m breaking this door down. Whoever this is, I want you out of my house. Right now.”
What was going on? Had her dad had a stroke or something? Had he forgotten who she was? Where was Jen?
“Dad, it’s me, Clove,” she said, opening the door.
Tom stood outside, his skin pale. “Whoever you are, you need to get out of my house right now.” He sounded hoarse with something that she had thought was anger, but now realized was fear.
“Dad,” Clove pleaded again, tears welling up in her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t my daughter. I don’t have a daughter.”
“Look, I know all those things I said yesterday sounded bad, but you’re still my parents, e
ven if I am adopted…”
“I’ve never had a daughter.”
She had a flashback to Matthew, also denying that she was his daughter. It was almost funny that this kept happening to her, in a heartbreaking way.
“You… Where’s Jen?”
“Jen?”
“Mum? Your … your wife?”
“I don’t have a wife,” he said, flatly. At least he didn’t sound angry any more. “I think you’ve got the wrong person. Do you need me to call the hospital? Are you injured? How did you get in here?”
“No wife?” she repeated hoarsely.
What was going on? What had happened while she was away? Clove wrapped her arms around her waist. She could feel herself shaking.
“Let me call someone for you, OK?” Tom said with concern. “You’re clearly … confused. We’ll get you home to your family.”
“But … but you are my family…” Clove stammered.
What had happened while she was in the bath? Something had changed while she was asleep. Reality had … shifted, somehow. Altered.
Clove suddenly had an urge to look outside. What if everything was different? Without a word, she pushed passed Tom and stumbled down the stairs. He called after her, but she ignored him.
She pulled open the front door, gasping as she caught sight of what was outside. The street, the one she’d grown up on, was unrecognizable. Everything had changed.
And it was her fault.
She’d destroyed the future.
PART
THREE
CHAPTER 26
The following items are banned on penalty of imprisonment:
• Anti-government propaganda
• Media promoting homosexuality
• Alcoholic and hallucinogenic substances
Folios/v8-alt/Time-landscape-2056-alt/MS-5-alt
File note: Pamphlet found in TOM GALLOWAY’s rubbish bin on 22 July 2056
