JUST ONE DAMNED THING AFTER ANOTHER

by Jodi Taylor

To his credit, he didn’t argue or delay.

  ‘Miss Barclay, upload these tapes immediately and advise me when you have done so. Now, please!’

  Back on the outside, Polly Perkins arrived with a forklift truck. The plan was to use the prongs to ram open the cracked and weakened screen and get us out that way.

  Back inside, I sniffed. ‘We’ve wrecked the head. Can’t you smell it?’

  ‘Ah, no, sorry. That would be me.’

  Polly lined up carefully, revved the engine and hit the pod with a crash. It took her four goes before they could batter their way in. Shouts of ‘Cover your eyes in there!’ would possibly have been more helpful if they had been uttered before impact. Still, let’s not be picky.

  The Chief clambered in first, went straight to the trip switch and pushed it up, ignoring my warning whimpers.

  ‘We’ve got the data,’ he said. ‘Relax and we’ll get you out.’

  They got Dieter out first, manhandling him through the shattered screen. He reached out to me and I grasped his hand.

  ‘So, Mr Dieter, apart from that, how was it for you?’

  ‘Awesome, Max; the earth moved.’ They took him away.

  The Boss waited quietly. As they stretchered me away, I grasped his sleeve and croaked, ‘The tapes?’

  ‘Safe and sound, Miss Maxwell, I shall be reviewing them in a few minutes.’

  Satisfied, I closed my eyes and let go for a bit.

  I woke up in Sick Bay. Actually that happens so often I’m going to put it on a hotkey. I was asked to prepare a briefing. I spent two days getting down as much as I could and preparing a large-scale map of the area, including the previous site where Sussman and I had worked before. I took my time because I wanted to get it right. That’s the beauty of this game; we could take whatever time needed and still go back to about ten minutes after we left.

  Guilt stricken, I persuaded them to let me visit Dieter who lay heavily bruised in the next room.

  ‘What’s the damage? I said, trying not to wince in sympathy.

  ‘Broken arm, broken wrist, sprained ankle, cuts, bruises, in-growing toenail and mild concussion.’

  He moved his arm fractionally and caught my sleeve. I gently patted his hand.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘We’ll get the bastards. And the pods they came in on.’

  He nodded, yawned and when I looked again he was fast asleep. Typical techie.

  The day after I was able to start hobbling around again, Chief Farrell came and collected me from Sick Bay and we walked to the Boss’s office.

  As I limped down the Long Corridor he said, ‘We got it wrong. Well, I got it wrong. We assumed the point of killing you was to bring back a body that would lead to mission shutdown. However, I think their plans were further advanced than we thought. The point may have been to keep you away from the northern end of the valley where Ronan and his team were carrying out their very illegal, but highly lucrative temporal tourism. Sussman’s bank account shows a rather large recent deposit.’

  I looked at him.

  ‘He was always jealous of you, Max. Didn’t you know?’

  I shook my head.

  He didn’t mention this could be the reason for Sussman’s behaviour as well; a quick bit of rough sex before tossing me to the raptors. I looked up to find him watching me. He’d followed my thought processes. He put his hand on my shoulder. ‘The bastard deserved what he got. Don’t think about it. How’s your leg?’

  ‘A bit bruised. Twisted knee and a banged-up shoulder. A few cuts and bruises but everything’s fine.’

  I limped thoughtfully down the corridor. With all the vastness of the Cretaceous period, what were the odds two expeditions would end up within a few miles of each other and at the same time? Did they use our co-ordinates? Did we somehow use theirs? Was it just coincidence?

  I asked him, ‘Who did the co-ordinates?’

  ‘IT provided them and we laid them in.’

  Barclay. Barclay and Sussman. No, I was just allowing my prejudice to get the better of me.

  The Boss sat at the head of his briefing table. Mrs Partridge sat behind him. The Chief took a seat at his right hand and Major Guthrie was opposite him. I sat at the end.

  ‘Miss Maxwell, it’s good to see you up and about. We’ve spent some time reviewing the tapes made by you and Mr Dieter. Have you seen them?’

  I shook my head and he brought them up. We watched in silence. It seemed worse the second time around. I dragged out my scratchpad from my knee pocket and made one or two notes.

  At his request, I brought up the detailed and comprehensive contour map I had made, showing the location of Site 1, the position of the lake, the coastal plain, the forest, the volcanoes and the slopes.

  Then I moved it up a few miles north, showing Site 2, where Dieter and I landed. I showed them the shale slope and cliff, warning them to avoid this area. I showed them the route Dieter and I had taken and the position of the compound and we went back to the tapes and superimposed the buildings, cages, pods, fence, generators and power sources. We speculated about the big structure in the middle. I showed them the direction from which the stampede had come, estimated where we’d gone over the cliff and we added the dinosaur run and arena. At the end, we had a reasonable idea of the layout.

  Major Guthrie asked me to describe conditions.

  ‘It’s hot and wet. The rainfall is like vertical water. The humidity is very, very high. It stinks. The smell will make our eyes water. We will sweat continually. It doesn’t get much cooler at night and it’s certainly no safer. Most of the predators seem to operate on a 24-hour basis. Their night vision is far superior to ours. Their sense of smell is acute. I recommend a thorough dowsing of cabbage spray and insect repellent.

  ‘It’s rough under foot. As well as loose shale higher up, there are swamps lower down. Things live in the swamps. Rotting tree trunks, branches, tree roots, boulders are everywhere. The few paths made by animals going down to drink are monitored by predators. What seems the easiest way will not be the safest. We need to watch our footing. Progress will be very slow. I advise operating in pairs at least. No one should go anywhere alone. We should watch our backs at all times. A T-rex standing motionless among dappled trees is completely invisible until it’s too late. Raptors move faster than you can possibly imagine and they come at you from all directions, including above. We must always remember this is their world. We are their prey. They won’t know the difference between us and the other lot and they certainly won’t care. The inadvisability of underestimating any dinosaur cannot be emphasised enough. And we need to do it quickly. The longer we’re there the less chance we have of getting out successfully.’

  I didn’t like the pause.

  ‘We?’ said the Boss.

  I couldn’t believe they were thinking of leaving me behind. I drew a breath. ‘I think that undertaking this – enterprise without the only person in this unit who has spent three months on-site would be inadvisable, sir.’

  ‘You can barely walk. What would you bring to this – enterprise?’

  ‘Knowledge, experience, expertise, you name it, sir, I’ve got it. I’m the third most experienced historian in this unit. Even if I just pilot the pod, I’m freeing up another body.’

  Another pause.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Maxwell. That will be all for now.’

  To say I fretted for the rest of the day would be an understatement. I didn’t bother going back to Sick Bay, but spent the day in my room, walking off my stiffness and frustration. At 1800, I attended the briefing in the Hall.

  Present were us three historians, most of the security section and a few techies. The Boss attended, but Major Guthrie presided. We were divided into three teams with three pods, piloted by Kal, Peterson and me. My main anxiety relieved, I began to pay attention. I got Murdoch, Whissell, Evans and the irrepressible Markham. He grinned at me. I grinned back. Always nice to see someone who’s even more of a disaster magnet than I am.

  ‘
Maybe we’ll cancel each other out,’ he whispered. ‘Like white noise.’

  Fat chance! He was the only person in the unit to have more yellow disciplinary sheets in his file than me. Despite eating like a horse, he remained small and slight and his hair stuck up in spikes around his crown. He’d been involved in the disastrous Icarus Experiment last year, tumbling off the stable roof with his wings well ablaze. He’d thudded heavily into the paddock panicking the horses who took exception to small, burning humans dropping on them from a great height. Running for his life and looking anxiously over his shoulder, he’d run slap bang into a horse’s bottom and knocked himself senseless. The entire unit lay face down on the ground laughing. Even the Boss uttered something between a snort and a cough. The security section clubbed together and sent a Get Well Soon card to the horse, who promptly ate it. That’s St Mary’s for you.

  The Boss stepped forward. ‘You will all have seen the disturbing images brought back by Miss Maxwell and Mr Dieter. The purpose of this mission, therefore, is to return to the Cretaceous and disrupt, with extreme prejudice, whatever is occurring there. To this end, I want chaos; I want noise, confusion and maximum damage. I don’t want them to know what’s come out of the dark and hit them. We go through the place, destroy everything in our path and get out. After twenty minutes, we’re gone. You may shoot to defend yourselves but otherwise just scare the living daylights out of them. I want survivors returning to the future with such tales of blood, terror and carnage that no one will ever want to try this sort of stupidity again. Major.’

  Guthrie pointed to the contour map. ‘We land here in a V formation, about twenty yards apart. Pod Three will be at the apex and will contain an EMP device. On landing and on a given signal, a directed pulse will be fired at the compound. It’s non-lethal, but highly destructive. At a low level, it will jam any electronic systems. A stronger pulse will corrupt computer data and a powerful pulse will fry any electronics within range. It will immobilise vehicles; knock out communications, electronic doors – the lot.’

  He continued. ‘Because of this, Pods Five and Six will be slightly behind Three. Pods are Faraday cages, but, to be on the safe side, will power down immediately. Peterson, Black and Maxwell, you will shut down your pods on landing; all coms, everything. As soon as the compound goes dark – and it will – power up again, get to the doors and wait. Maxwell, you will not set foot outside. Guard your pods, have them in a state of readiness and wait for your teams to return. We will not be hanging around.

  ‘Security section, as soon as the pulse is fired, you’re up. You go through their main gate here. Chief, you and I go to the left, along here. Murdoch, your team to the right, along the perimeter here and Ritter, your team goes straight down the middle. Stay in your groups. They will be blind, confused and helpless. We come at them from all directions. Don’t get yourselves shot. That’s an order.

  ‘Right, study the layout; get it straight in your heads. You’ll have night visors, but do it anyway. If you can’t get back to your own pod then get back to someone else’s and advise your team leader. Does anyone have any questions?’

  I raised a hand. ‘What about the captured animals?’

  Barclay said, ‘Weren’t you listening, Maxwell? The EMP device will lock any electronic door systems. You don’t need to be afraid.’

  I swear I’ll swing for that woman one day. ‘You misunderstand me, Izzie. Do we free them, sir? Or leave them in their cages?’

  The long silence answered that question. I wasn’t happy and nor were Kal and Peterson. We shifted our feet and prepared to argue. The Boss intervened. ‘Should it be necessary, we will do what we can afterwards. While the attack is in progress they are probably safer in their cages and we certainly are. I appreciate your concern arises out of your training (Ha, Barclay, swivel on that!). The matter will be addressed.’

  We spent three hours studying the available data and talking it through.

  We drew our bits and pieces of kit and rehearsed our moves to get the timings right. I made sure I got a painkilling shot for my knee. We had a bit of a meal, a final briefing and then we were ready to go.

  This was my first combat mission ever. I was acutely aware of my own heartbeat. Even though I wouldn’t be leaving the pod – and now the actual moment had come I was grateful for that – I still had nerves. I looked at Kal and Peterson alongside me – a little quiet maybe, but quite calm. Well, if they could do it, then so could I.

  We marched down the long corridor, now brightly lit. I could see Guthrie and Farrell ahead and Murdoch and his team stumped along behind. I could hear Weasel and Markham bickering about something. All the colours seemed very bright and all the sounds very loud.

  We split up in Hawking and I got to Number Six. Murdoch and his team filed in behind me. I started the usual checks, glad to have something to think about. On the other side of Hawking the Boss and Farrell had their heads together over a scratchpad. They exchanged a few quiet words, heads close together. They stepped back, paused and then shook hands. Possibly only I knew how important this moment was for both of them. Not long now.

  I jumped up and down in my unfamiliar night gear, flexing my arms and checking my weapon.

  And then we waited.

  I counted my team again: Murdoch, Whissell, Evans and Markham. They were checking themselves, their equipment and each other.

  I said, ‘Are you guys going to be OK on your own, or would you like me to come with you to hold your lunch money?’

  Murdoch looked at me. ‘You?’

  ‘Yes, me. Is there a problem?’

  ‘Just have the kettle on for when we get back like a good little wifey.’ He looked at the pod. ‘You might want to run a Hoover around as well.’

  ‘Just to be clear; you’re winding up the person who’s in charge of the getaway car? So it is true what they say about security.’

  He refused to rise to that one. A voice in my ear said, ‘Stand by.’ They lined up by the door. The voice said, ‘Jump.’ And the world went white.

  It wasn’t as dark as I thought it would be. The light and noise coming from the compound lit up the whole area. These guys were morons. They couldn’t hear over the music and had no night vision built up should anything nasty emerge out of the dark. Like us, for instance.

  I set my watch. Barclay set about preparing the EMP. It took her less than four minutes but seemed far longer.

  I said, ‘Good luck guys,’ and opened the door ready for them. I limped to the trip switch, pushed it up and the console went dark. I heard nothing at all when the pulse fired, but everything went very black very suddenly. For long seconds there was silence. Over in the compound, a few voices were raised, more in exasperation than anger. They still had no idea we were here. And then, very loud in the still night, an unexpected series of metallic clicks and clangs. I stared out of the door. Now what?

  And then the screaming started.

  Shit, shit, shit. Suddenly, I knew what this was. Bloody Barclay and her high-tec gizmos. The pulse had caused the cages to open, not lock. There was now no question of completing the mission. Everyone’s priority would be to get back to the safety of their pods as quickly as possible. How could things go so wrong so quickly?

  I crossed my fingers and pulled the power switch down and just as it had done on my first jump, everything lit up again. I could hear the chatter over the com system. I switched to the night light.

  Someone started shooting. Someone else shot back and then trigger-happy tourists were letting off at everything in sight including each other. Voices were raised, shouting to cease fire, but no one listened. Terrified out of their wits, they blasted away wildly into the night. I prayed our people were on their way back, leaving this lot either to shoot themselves, or fall prey to whatever was roaring and bellowing in the darkness around them. It seemed very possible we would all be killed by idiots rather than villains, which would be typical.

  Someone shouted an alarm. I suspected we had been discovere
d, but they still weren’t sure what was happening and in the unexpected darkness they were their own worst enemies. Over the general din I could hear the unmistakable sounds of large animals moving through the night. God help everyone and everything out there.

  The shooting had stopped. Everyone was running. Our guys would be trying to get back, but in the confusion I couldn’t work out who was who. I stood in the doorway, armed and ready to repel anyone or anything that wasn’t St Mary’s.

  Close by, I could hear heavy breathing. Very heavy breathing. I took a silent step backwards into the pod and whatever it was pounded away into the night.

  The screaming redoubled. You put dinosaurs and people together, you always get screaming. For the dinosaurs, of course, it was a feeding frenzy. They roared, pounced and ripped. Lumps of things that were no longer human being were flung around the landscape. The top half of a man, still screaming hit the side of the pod and bounced off into the night.

  I could see green figures running back towards my pod. As they came closer I opened up the med kits so I could start giving treatment as soon as possible. The roaring and shrieking got closer. Come on guys! Then, finally, I could hear Murdoch shouting and they fell into the pod.

  ‘Report, ‘I said.

  ‘All here except Markham. Two casualties but nothing serious. Evans ran into a building in the dark and knocked himself silly, although it’s hard to tell.’

  Evans, lowering himself to the floor and clutching a blood soaked dressing over his right eye, grinned at me. ‘Did you see those fuckers run?

  ‘Any news?’ asked Murdoch.

  ‘The livestock’s free.’

  ‘Yeah, we noticed. It’s bloody chaos out there,’ he said, slapping another dressing on top of the blood-stained original. Evans yelped. ‘Wuss! Those things are crazy for blood. It’s going to take more than cabbage spray to keep us safe tonight.’

  I went back to the door. ‘We’re missing Markham and we may get stragglers from the other pods. I’ll stand guard. Who’s the other casualty?’

  ‘Me’ said Weasel, thickly. His nose was broken and bloody.