FAST FORWARD: A Science Fiction Thriller

by Darren Wearmouth

  “Why would he tell me anything?”

  “Don’t test my zero tolerance for liars policy. Final chance.”

  “I’m telling the truth.”

  Lynch powered the drill. Lucy grimaced and forced her knee to the side.

  “I listened to your conversation with Little Miss Innocent,” he said. “You seriously believe Porterfield can beat me? Do you know we used to burn women at the stake for treason?”

  Lucy glared up at him. “You don’t frighten me. Are you like this because you repulse every decent woman on the planet?”

  Lynch growled, hurled the drill over his shoulder, and it thumped to the ground in the middle of the arena. He bent down, resting his hands on his knees, and stared into her eyes. “I didn’t create a better world for millions so a driver with an attitude problem could insult me, and waste my precious time. You’ve got twenty seconds.”

  “Don’t let me detain you from important business.”

  Maria winced, expecting Lynch to explode at any moment. She admired Lucy’s bravery in the face of torture, fighting back against impossible odds, and it inspired the same feeling to grow inside her. The last few hours had stripped away any positive emotional attachment she had with Timetronic, and Lynch’s actions confirmed him as her true enemy, and a danger to the country.

  “I’ve booked a place for you at the facility,” he said to Lucy in a calmer voice. “Enjoy the reunion with your boyfriend.”

  “I’d rather lie next to him in a freezer than spend another minute working for you. I’m glad I helped Luke escape. It made confronting you worthwhile.”

  Lynch tutted and stepped across to Maria. “It took her long enough to grow a pair if you know what I mean?"

  Maria ignored him and bowed her head.

  “Where’s Walter hiding?” He grasped her chin and raised it. “Don’t be shy. Answer now or later to David Meakin. He won’t be interrogating you virtually and isn’t as forgiving as me.”

  “You?” Lucy let out a bitter laugh. “You’re as forgiving as a drought.”

  “I’ve nothing to say,” Maria said. “Do your worst.”

  “Very well.” Lynch spun away and returned to the table. He picked up two Roman legionary swords, stabbed one in the sand in front of Maria and the other next to Lucy. “I hate it when people play games. If that’s the way you want it, fine.”

  “You’re mad,” Lucy said.

  Lynch circled to the back of the chairs. “Here’s the rules. When I untie you, the one left standing avoids a session with Meakin. Trust me; it’s a prize worth winning. His toolkit dwarfs his patience.”

  The zip tie sprung away from Maria’s wrists, freeing her from the chair. She remembered trumpeting Lynch’s life-changing achievements to Luke and instantly reached for her sword.

  Lucy stood, drew her blade from the sand, and eyed Maria.

  No words needed exchanging. They turned toward Lynch and charged.

  “Disengage,” he shouted and staggered back a few paces.

  Lynch faded as Maria closed in. She raised her sword, swung it down toward his head, and it sliced through his transparent figure. A second later his image disappeared.

  Lucy skidded to a stop next to her. “Shame he didn’t hang around.”

  “You don’t seem bothered. The way you spoke to him …”

  “We’re screwed. You know that, right? How many stories have you heard similar to this?”

  “None,” Maria admitted.

  “Exactly. People aren’t set free to tell their tale—”

  Lucy’s image waned and vanished.

  For the next five minutes, Maria circled the arena’s fighting surface and pondered her immediate future. Regardless of whatever techniques Meakin used, she had no information to give. Luke’s freedom gave a glimmer of optimism though deep down she feared one man couldn’t defeat a huge corporate machine.

  Maria flopped down in her chair and waited for the inevitable transfer back to reality. She thought about the hundreds of plugs she'd witnessed over the last few years while casually sipping coffee, and shook her head at her own ignorance.

  Darkness swamped the Colosseum.

  Her senses shifted back to her physical form.

  Cuffs bit into Maria’s wrists. She moves stiffly into sitting position on the exec pod’s long leather couch and blinked to clear her blurred vision. Drops of rain pattered against its large tinted windows and a cool draft blew through the open door.

  Meakin hunched in front of a workstation at the far end of the pod. He cut the holoscreen, rotated on his stool, and aimed a pistol at her. “Outside, now. And don’t think about running.”

  Maria headed out of the door to a soaked concrete platform and splashed through puddles toward a plastic shelter. Tightly packed trees surrounded the track, and she guessed they’d arrived at one of the private stations built for countryside residents, supposedly shut down ten years ago by the government to prove we’re all in this together.

  “That way,” Meakin said, gesturing his gun toward a gravel footpath in the forest. “The same deal applies. Work with me, and get a reduced sentence.”

  “Where’s Lucy?”

  “Waiting in the garage. Word of advice, don’t let her attitude rub off on you. She won’t be seeing another sunrise for a century.”

  “Is this a good cop, bad cop routine?”

  “Afraid not. It’s angry virtual cop, focused reality cop. Gideon needs quick answers, and I specialize in easing them out of people.”

  “I’m never leaving this place, am I?”

  Meakin leveled his pistol Maria’s face. “Get your ass moving.”

  Maria continued forward, crunching along the path toward open land at the far side of the forest. A fresh unrecognizable scent hung in the air, thick branches creaked in the wind and leaves rustled overhead. Her senses were elevated more than she remembered during her last visit to the countryside, fifteen years ago on a school field trip. Everything appeared alive and vibrant, from mushrooms on a rotting log to the spread of wildflowers in small clearings.

  It was more than simply the prospect of not seeing daylight for a few decades. Events over the last few days had awakened Maria to the kind of world she wanted to live in, and now she was experiencing it on her way to having it all snatched away.

  A high stone wall surrounded a small red brick Victorian house, and a dirt track extended from it through rolling parkland.

  “Head for the back entrance,” Meakin said.

  The rain had eased to spits when Maria broke from the canopy’s partial cover. She walked along the side of the wall, opened a solid wrought iron gate, and entered an enclosed back garden. A dark statue of Captain James Cook, clutching a telescope, dominated the center of the lawn.

  “Where did get you that?” she asked.

  “I’m not the one who loves pioneers. The garage on your left, keep moving.”

  Maria crossed the lawn to the single-story building’s rusty retractable door. Meakin kept his aim on her, heaved up the handle, and the door flipped open with a piercing screech.

  Lucy slumped in the middle of three bolted down chairs at the back of the garage. Her head flopped to the side, her eyes vacantly stared at the ground, and a string of saliva dangled from her lip.

  “Take the one on the left and keep your mouth shut,” Meakin said and nodded inside. “Unless you want a stun round like her.”

  The handcuffs killed any chance of grabbing one of the garden tools and fighting back. Following his orders and playing for time appeared to be Maria’s only option. She sat down and avoided eye contact.

  Meakin moved behind her, looped a chain over her cuffs, and a lock clicked. He pushed a table from the side of the garage in front of both women, dropped a red toolbox on top, and concertinaed it open. “I’ll be back tonight as duty calls. In the meantime, I’ll leave you an insight into my methods if you don’t cooperate.”

  He pulled out a pair of boxcutters, a saw, an adjustable spanner, and two se
ts of pliers, inspecting each one in turn before placing them in a neat line at the front of the table.

  Maria glanced down at her feet, and along the row of chairs. Dry purple stains covered half of the stone floor around them.

  “Nobody can hear you,” Meakin said. “That’s why you’re here. There’s no tech, no cameras, no government snoops from other corporations. I’ll give you eight hours to think about the truth.”

  Meakin left the garage and slammed the door. Only one man could help Maria now— if Luke even knew Timetronic had taken her.

  Lucy groaned and unsuccessfully attempted to raise her head.

  “It’ll be okay,” Maria said.

  At least, it would be until darkness fell.

  Chapter 28

  Luke stood over a table in the middle of the crash room, an old engineering workshop close to a derelict line, and he studied a map layout of the Pool Control Center that Perry had sketched from memory. On paper, the route looked easy. They had to cross the depot and negotiate a short corridor to the power room, staying below ground level and avoiding the atrium where the bulk of Timetronic staff worked.

  Helen, Emma, Perry, Carl, Walter, and two other men from his crew who arrived while they were loading magazines, crowded around the dimly lit table. Everyone wore a black stab proof vest, the best form of protection Walter could find capable of stopping a stun round. Carl had collected short range radios and synced digital watches from a Zone Seven store in lieu of a tax payment.

  Equipment wise, they were ready to go. Between the table and the rusty steel shelves at the far end of the room, eight X90 rifles and pistols lay on the ground, each with ten full magazines; enough ammunition to take out four PCC shifts. Luke’s acquired Timetronic pistol had five stun rounds left for any depot staff who resisted.

  They had two hours to go until the 11:00 pm assault. Claycops changed shift at midnight, and an hour beforehand, according to Perry, most were either engaged in the field or loitering in the changing rooms.

  “Let’s go through it one more time,” Luke said. “When the firing starts, these details need to be ingrained in your mind.”

  “I get it,” Walter said. “Attack at eleven, blow up the power, and head for Clifton Hall.”

  “Focus. It’s a one-shot deal.”

  Walter rolled his eyes, like a know-it-all teenager after a parent told them to work harder or face the consequences a few years down the road. He may have had experiences to prepare him for tonight, but most of his team were green. It was painfully apparent when Luke had given them an improvised training session on the rifle.

  “One more time,” Helen said, and gently rubbed Walter’s back.

  “Okay.” Luke pointed his stylus at the tube line and moved it across the layout. “We approach the station and neutralize any staff. No shooting unless we take incoming. My team, Carl, Emma, Perry, heads straight through the depot. We’ve only one elevator and one set of stairs from the atrium to cover. I’ll check solitary for Maria, plant the bomb, and at 11:05 we blow the main power. We’ll use a five-minute buffer in case we run into trouble and detonate no later than 11:10.”

  The group murmured in agreement. Both bombs sat in packs next to the crash room door. Helen had already been working on them for another operation, and crammed in more than enough explosives to do the job. A simple remote-controlled activation button triggered the detonation.

  “Take us through your part, Helen,” Luke said.

  “My team heads out of the elevated fire exit, takes out the two gate guards, and bombs the generators at 11:05. After that, we head straight for the landing strip to meet with you guys and Frank for an 11:10 take-off.”

  Luke straightened from the table. “You’re a hundred percent sure about him?”

  “Frank only talks about three things,” Walter said. “Family, rugby, and hating Timetronic. If he doesn’t show up, I’ll eat my underpants.”

  “If he doesn’t, you’ll be eating bullets.”

  “He’s nailed on,” Perry said. “I’ve never seen him as excited.”

  Most operations had moving parts, but Luke disliked elements he was unable to control directly or change. Perry had visited the retired pilot, and the old man wouldn’t join the assault teams, mainly due to his advanced age slowing his movement to that of a snail, but he agreed to arrive on foot at 11:10.

  “If anyone needs help,” Luke said, “radio right away. We’ll balance resources depending on the situation. If we're outgunned and have to fall back, rendezvous at our designated start-up point. No live rounds on any Timetronic staff attempting escape. I can't stress that enough.”

  “What about cops after the power goes?” Carl asked.

  “If they feel brave and attack us in person, go for it. Remember your rules of engagement. Anything claytronic or anyone who fires. That’s it.”

  “Say if our bombs work but your team is pinned down?” Perry asked.

  “If one team stays to ensure the other makes it, that’s the way it goes down. Don’t worry if you’re taken prisoner. At sunrise, Timetronic has a new boss.”

  Emma tentatively raised her hand. “What’s the plan for Clifton Hall?”

  “There’s a huge house and smaller barn to search. It depends on how many of us board the rotorcraft. This is Lynch we're talking about, so I'm not expecting a picnic. I'll agree on a strategy with Helen while we head to the start-up point.”

  Luke waited for any more questions, scanned the mostly determined faces around the table, and knew Lynch made a mistake robbing these people of their liberty, or what constituted it in 2070. The mad doctor had inadvertently created a group focused on immediately taking him down. He likely got away with it for years by targeting individuals who stood in his way; turning Helen’s mission against him into what masqueraded as a domestic terrorist threat was a smart move. This time, however, he’d overreached in his desperate attempt to gain a controlling interest in Timetronic.

  “Get ready to move out,” Walter said and clapped his hands. “Let’s go.”

  For the next twenty minutes, the group stuffed magazines in their pockets and backpacks, loaded their rifles, and adjusted the slings. Luke took a roll of insulation tape around each person and secured anything that rattled—a basic fieldcraft technique to avoid giving the enemy any audible warnings of approach beyond quiet footsteps. After finishing, he waited outside the crash room and listened for any distant noises, ensuring no goons discovered their hiding place or followed them to the Timetronic tube line.

  Walter joined Luke outside. “If I don’t survive, promise me you’ll watch Helen’s back.”

  “Don’t tempt fate. You’ll make it, big man. Dream about your new life, and battle for it.”

  “I’m serious. We’ve had ten good years since she walked in The Mega Dive. I need to know someone’s looking out for her.”

  “We’re all in the same boat. The difference is, I’m not contemplating failure. Anyway, what makes you think I’ll survive?”

  “Helen thinks it. She’s waited for you since reading her dad’s diaries.”

  “Why didn’t you try shutting Lynch down before?”

  “The Mega Dive, Zone Seven, Helen, my life, coming up with a way to do it. Fighting might be in your nature, but it’s not in ours.”

  “Your knuckleduster disagrees.”

  Walter snorted. “Well, maybe it’s in me too. If we pull this off, tomorrow I’m a changed man. When Helen relaxes the pressure on Zone Seven I won’t have to run such a tight ship. All I’m asking is to keep an eye out. Lynch’s stooges won’t be happy.”

  A digital alarm on Luke’s watch beeped, signaling ninety-minutes until they hit the PCC. He turned to Walter. “You have my word. Lead us out to the starting point; I’ll be tail-end Charlie and plan with Helen.”

  Walter headed back to the table, and gave orders to move out. He slung one of the bomb packs over his left arm and led the team in single file toward the corridor.

  Helen waited by the secon
d pack and passed Luke a remote control. He pocketed it and heaved on his bomb. It had the equivalent weight of a sack of potatoes, but thankfully the stab proof vest stopped the strap from digging into him.

  The initial route to the Timetronic’s tube line led back to the armory. Walter eased himself from the platform onto the track, focused his flashlight down a pitch black tunnel, and continued to advance.

  Luke kept close to Helen, who also had a light, to ensure he didn’t trip over a sleeper or one of the thick cables that sagged from the side of the wall. Scraps of newspaper littered the ground, and he resisted the temptation to pick up a piece and read snippets from a decade he lived through but never experienced.

  Helen slowed for a moment, allowing him to draw level. “Any ideas for Clifton Hall?” she said.

  “You know it better than me. Where did Lynch spend his time?”

  “The library, dining room, and master bedroom. Thinking about it makes my blood boil. Sleeping in my parents’ bed after killing my Dad and drinking from his globe.”

  “Are you sure he’s dead and not in a transport system?”

  “You’ve answered your own question. Lynch already had him safely tucked away.”

  “It’s no coincidence Sir Henry went missing a year before you were cured, considering Lynch’s masterplan. I’d put my money on Meakin doing his dirty work. Does the barn still operate?”

  “Lynch was in the process of converting it into a museum. He showed me a couple of old transport systems and a small lab where it all started. The front part has loads of weird stuff in glass cases. He claims it’ll end up being a place of national pilgrimage.”

  “Maybe not for the reasons he thinks. Are there any internal defensive capabilities?”

  “Not that I saw. Any trespasser who makes it past the pool’s perimeter chain guns has to deal with drones. Even if they reached the edge of the estate, there’s a tall concrete wall around it with electrified barbed wire at the top.”

  “Any staff or goons?”

  “A few, but we’re going back ten years. If you find him first, save him for me.”