by Lauren James
“I wish I had a better explanation, but I don’t.”
He was silent, resigned.
Katy tried to remember what else Matthew had told her in 1745. “You told me about the war – this war – and how it went,” she remembered. “Something was happening when you were sent back. Something big.” She bit her nail, deep in thought.
“Can’t you remember what it was?” Matthew stroked the hair off her face. His touch was distracting.
“I can’t remember,” she said, frustrated. She hadn’t taken too much notice of what Matthew had been saying at the time. She hadn’t known it would be so important. “Does it matter? We’re living in a different version of the war. It might not even happen here. Those things happened in a world in which the Jacobites won the uprising. Everything might be different this time.”
“But there’s a chance it might happen. Lots of things are still the same. Any information about where even a single Russian rocket might drop is better than nothing.”
“A rocket,” she said. “There was a rocket! All of the generals were killed at once. You tried to stop it and couldn’t.”
Matthew drew in a horrified breath. “All of them? All of the generals were killed? There would be no one to command the soldiers or plan the tactics. The army would have no chance of fighting and winning. Are you sure? How did it happen?”
Katy paused, trying to pull the memory from the back of her mind. It had been in a different life, and she had been so scared and upset that she hadn’t been focused on what Matthew was telling her. She had been in the middle of a siege and had just lost the man she loved – she hadn’t cared about the details of a war a century in the future. It hadn’t been important.
She closed her eyes and tried to picture 1745. They had been in her bedchamber. Matthew had been toying with a slice of bread. She could see him picking crumbs off the crust. But what had he said? What had happened?
She opened her eyes suddenly and stared in horror at Matthew. “They were in a meeting. In a tent. A rocket hit it. It caught fire. Everyone was killed before they could escape. All of the commanders – English and French.”
“Yes, but when? When does it happen?” Matthew sounded desperate.
“I don’t know, Matthew. You didn’t tell me anything like that back then. You said I’d died – shot during a battle by the river. Then later a rocket hit a tent full of the commanders.” Katy knew she sounded irritated, but she couldn’t help it. “The Russians managed to get close enough to the tent by going up the river.”
“A river? But … that’s where we are now. You didn’t die, not here. It must be a different river. A different battle.”
They were silent.
“The Highlander,” Matthew said suddenly. “He saved us by the river. You would have been shot if he hadn’t been there.”
“So?”
“In that other time, that other version of this war, the Highlander wasn’t there to save you. Because the Scottish hadn’t fought alongside the English.”
“He saved my life,” Katy said. “I would have died.”
“But you didn’t! You’re alive. And that means this rocket – the rocket that killed the commanders – is coming today. It’s going to happen now!”
> ALERT: Subjects in time-landscape 1854 in danger
> Intervention recommended
>> Intervention denied
CENTRAL SCIENCE LABORATORIES, WEST MIDLANDS, ENGLAND, 2039
Kate and Matt searched through half a dozen identical, desolate labs trying to find any trace of the bacteria before they reached the basement. It was cold – too cold for a building that should have been without power for decades. Kate pressed a hand against the wall. She felt the hum of a generator and knew they were in the right place.
“Look,” Matt whispered. “The floor. It’s clean.”
Almost every other surface in the building had been covered in dust. Wherever they went they’d left a trail of footprints in the grime like tracks in the snow. But here, in the depths of the basement, the floor was immaculate. There was even a broom propped against the wall.
“Someone comes here. A lot.” Kate swallowed, shining her torch down the pitch-black corridor. It illuminated a bolted metal door, with a sign that read BACTERIAL STORAGE ZONE. DO NOT ENTER.
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she muttered. “They really do have it. They can’t, they wouldn’t…”
“Let’s find out,” Matt said, catching her shoulder and rubbing a thumb into the muscle. “We need to find out.”
“I can’t,” she said desperately. “This isn’t happening. This was supposed to have ended twenty years ago.”
“Kate, it is happening. We need to go in.”
She nodded. They moved towards the door.
“The freezer is still running,” Kate said. “They’ve kept it going all this time.”
Matt turned the large handle and the seal of the door pulled free with a long, slow hiss. Lights came on inside, flickering weakly on and off before settling into a dull glow that revealed rows of shelves that were packed tightly with vials, each one neatly labelled with a bright-yellow sticker stamped with a skull and crossbones.
“Shit.”
“How much do they need?” Matt asked, voice hovering somewhere between horrified and awestruck.
“They could destroy the entire planet in a day with this stuff. If the contents of this room got released…” Kate stepped into the freezer and carefully picked up a vial. It was labelled with an expiry date and a stock number as if it was any normal lab chemical instead of a deadly weapon.
“Kate, look,” Matt called. He was holding a blue folder that had been dangling from a piece of string attached to the wall by the doorway. “It’s a logbook of the stock. Look.”
She ran her eyes down the page. Columns, filled with dense handwriting, listed the quantity and stock number of vials that had been taken out. The dates showed that almost every week for the last few months at least five vials had been checked out. The last log was only two days ago, when fifteen vials had been removed.
“They’re taking it somewhere. This isn’t over.”
A sound echoed down the hallway that led to the freezer.
Footsteps.
CHAPTER 27
Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-160
Carlisle, England, 1745
Matthew was lying back on the bed. He looked very unwell, but Katherine still pushed him to tell her everything he could remember being taught about the 1745 uprising in his version of history.
“I know that when the Rebels marched to England the army wasn’t ready to defend London. The government panicked and signed agreements allowing Prince Charles to rule over Scotland just to stop an invasion. His descendants carried on his rule – causing as much trouble as possible. The current king keeps trying to conquer England, when even Bonnie Prince Charlie was content with just Scotland. He refused to help fight the Russians, so we’re struggling to manage with the men we have. I know I should support my country, but, really, the king is a spoilt brat. The Scottish kings have ruined Scotland in lots of ways, through carelessness and greed. There was an awful famine, for years and years. Nearly half of the population died. I think that for ordinary people like me, it would’ve been far better for Scotland to have stayed as part of the British Empire.”
“So you are saying the English need more time – here and now – because they are not ready to fight back against the Rebels?”
“I suppose. I don’t know. I’m sorry. I wish I could give you every detail of the Scottish rebellion, but I can’t remember exactly what happened. I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see what happens now.”
“Do we, though? I mean, if we know that the English need more time to gather troops, then perhaps we can make sure the Rebels’ march is delayed. We’ve already managed to stop Durand surrendering, with my Matthew’s death. If we can stop the soldiers leaving Carlisle for just a little longer, we can make sure the English have more ti
me to gather their army and defend England.”
“How do you suggest that we stop a whole city surrendering if it wants to, and for long enough that it makes a difference?”
She grinned at him. “Well, you could sacrifice yourself again? That might work.”
“Perhaps not.”
“If you are feeling up to it, shall we go and see what’s happening at the castle? We can improvise.”
“Matthew? What would you want for your Katy?” Katherine asked, as they walked to the castle. “I mean, if you died, what would you want her to do? Would you want her to find someone else?”
He looked at her searchingly. “Were you with Matthew here, in this time? Were you together?”
She looked back, surprised. “Yes, of course. Weren’t you with Katy?”
“No. I – I think we would have been, eventually. But she’d betrayed me, and it took me a long time to forgive her.”
“What did she do?”
“She spied on me, for the army. To make sure I wasn’t reporting the wrong things.”
“Oh.” Quietly, she admitted, “I spied on my Matthew too. I thought he was a Rebel and I followed him to make sure he wasn’t revealing secrets. It’s the only reason we really became friends, I suppose. I wouldn’t have taken the time to get to know a servant otherwise.”
“Was he revealing secrets?”
“No. I was wrong. He forgave me.”
Matthew didn’t reply, and they walked on in silence. Katherine thought about the similarities and differences between their lives until Matthew surprised her by answering her original question.
“Yes, I think I would have wanted you to move on after I’d died. I’d have wanted someone to take care of Katy after I was gone, if she hadn’t died. I’d want that, rather than have her go back to being a servant, alone but loyal to me. I think your Matthew would have wanted the same. I know it’s different for you because you have a family and a home, but I still think I would want you to have a happy life. It doesn’t do any good to mourn for someone who is gone. They don’t care. Their story has finished.”
“Except in this situation, where I can’t seem get rid of you,” she teased. She wasn’t good at serious discussions and she didn’t know how to tell him what his words meant to her. She felt guilty for so quickly replacing her Matthew, even if it was with a different version of him. That actually made it seem worse somehow, like their past together meant so little that just a man with the same face as him was enough to please her. But she couldn’t find the words to explain that, so instead she made jokes.
Matthew seemed to understand because he didn’t laugh. Instead he said, “I would never have left my Katy if I could have found a way to stay. I promise you. If this had been the other way around – if I had died and your Matthew had replaced me in my world – I would have wanted my Katy to love him and live with him. I think your Matthew would want the same for you.”
“Thank you,” was all she could say.
He turned away and they began to walk again. After several steps, he added in a light, casual voice that didn’t fool her at all, “What about you? Would you want your Matthew to find someone else if you died?”
Katherine thought about it and found to her dismay that she had very strong feelings on the subject. She wasn’t as good a person as Matthew. She wanted him all to herself. Luckily, the circumstances seemed to oblige.
“I’d be far too selfish to let you find happiness with someone else,” she eventually replied, cheerfully. “Sorry, but you have no choice in the matter. You’re only allowed to be with me.”
He laughed, quietly. “Well, I think I can find it in myself to forgive you for that.”
“As for finding happiness with a different version of myself – if that is what is going on,” Katherine continued, “well, I have one condition.”
“Ah. And what is that?”
“She isn’t allowed to have better hair than me. I’d want you to always look at her stupid slapdash hairstyle and remember mine with longing. I’d be content with that.” Matthew peered at her hair speculatively. “Bear in mind that I currently have no maid to set my hair,” she added hastily.
“I see. I shall consider your condition most carefully.”
“So?”
“I think the diplomatic response is silence. I can’t offer an opinion without offending some version of you. Knowing my luck, ten different Katherines would immediately appear out of thin air and demand that I rank their hairstyles in order of preference.”
“That is, of course, the correct response. I thank you for the compliment.”
“I never said a word, and anyone who says otherwise is lying most terribly,” he intoned, but his eyes were twinkling.
She leant against his side, biting at her lip to hold back a smile. Matthew immediately stopped walking, swaying slightly as if he couldn’t handle the extra weight. She stood upright again. She had been trying not to pester him about his illness, but he definitely looked worse.
“I’m not sure how I didn’t notice anything before,” he said. “It’s completely obvious that we aren’t in the nineteenth century. Look how rural everything is.”
He obviously didn’t want to discuss how he was feeling.
“Well!” she objected, mildly insulted on behalf of Carlisle. “You’ve hardly caught us at our best. Things are usually a lot tidier – fewer barricades and piles of weapons, that kind of thing. Besides, I thought you said you were living in a tent in this glorious future of yours?”
“I didn’t mean it as an insult. I’m actually quite impressed – given how much time has elapsed – how similar life is. Mind you, if you look at it the other way, it is a little discouraging how little progress has been made in a whole century.”
“You mean there aren’t any horseless carriages yet?” She raised an eyebrow, and he ducked his head, grinning.
“Hah! No, I doubt there will ever be a way to stop using horses for travel.”
“I guess flight is also out of the question?”
“Oh, no,” he said. “Have I not shown you my wings?”
Her mouth dropped open and then she caught sight of his face. “Matthew! That isn’t funny!”
“It really is. You believed that so easily!”
“Well,” she blustered, “a hundred years is a long time. What do you think life is going to be like in nineteen fifty-four? If someone told you there would be a way to fly then, would you believe them?”
“Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous.”
She sniffed, unconvinced. “I’m sure that’s true, dear.”
He looked startled at the pet name, and she mentally winced. She’d relaxed with this Matthew far too quickly. She shouldn’t be acting like this when they had only met yesterday. There was an awkward silence.
CENTRAL SCIENCE LABORATORIES, WEST MIDLANDS, ENGLAND, 2039
The footsteps were dulled and still some distance away, but getting quickly closer.
“Hurry,” Kate said, in a violent whisper.
Matt nodded. After tugging the folder free from the wall, he followed her out of the freezer. She shoved the door shut behind him, not bothering to push down the bolt.
“They’ll have seen the entrance,” Matt said, with dawning horror. “The broken glass. They know someone’s here.”
“Come on.” She looked down the corridor. There was no sign of anyone yet, but the footsteps were getting louder. “This way.”
She ran in the opposite direction, further into the basement, turning corners at random through the endless series of corridors. She tried to tread softly, quietly. Matt followed behind her, his breath warm against her neck.
Their torchlight made looming distortions of the hallway, sending Kate into skitters of panic. She held onto the hope that there was another exit, inwardly pleading that they weren’t running into a dead end.
She clutched the vial tightly, to keep it from slipping in her grasp. There was another heavy metal door up ahead. It was padlock
ed. She thought it was the only exit, but then she saw the turn in the corridor and spotted, with shuddering relief, the steps leading upwards.
She took them two at a time. The door at the top was locked. She turned back, watching the hall behind Matt disappear into darkness as he reached her, torchlight shuddering across the walls.
“Locked,” she said, panting.
He didn’t hesitate, but leant into the door and hit it with his shoulder. It didn’t give as the door to Matthew’s office had, but screeched and held firm. She looked down the steps into the blackness of the basement and saw the growing light of a torch beam.
“They’re coming. Try again.”
Matt rammed the door a second time, letting out a low gasp of pain. This time it gave, and he fell through the doorway, nearly tripping. Kate caught him.
“Come on,” she hissed, and then they were running again, down another long corridor and the footsteps behind them were finally, finally, receding into silence.
Matt paused to get his bearings, and then carried on. Kate followed him, too relieved at their escape to pay attention to where he was taking them.
Then they were in the foyer, skidding to a halt with a crunch of shattered glass, and looking straight into the headlights of a car parked outside the door. Neither of them moved. When there was no shouting or gunshots, Kate made herself walk towards the car.
“It’s empty,” she said in relief. “There’s no one here.”
“It belongs to that security guard, I guess. He must be alone,” Matt said, stepping through the empty door frame and heading towards the car. “Come on.”
Matt pulled open the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. Kate stared open-mouthed at his audacity. This was a military vehicle! Then he jerked his head, impatiently. She hurried forward, climbing into the car. He turned the key in the ignition, reversing just as their pursuer appeared in the foyer, blinded by the headlights.
