The Time Bubble Box Set

by Jason Ayres

  “I’m not sure I can,” he said. “My memory’s a bit hazy.”

  “Well, you had better think of something, as security will want to ask you some questions before you leave.”

  “Sleepwalking,” proclaimed Josh, seizing on the first thought that came into his head. “I’ve suffered from it all my life. I must have fallen asleep and wandered into his room.”

  “Where were you sleepwalking from, exactly?” she asked. “You’re not a patient at this hospital as far as we can tell, so are you telling me you made it here all the way from your house? And also, how do you know it was a man?”

  “I didn’t come from home. I was here because my wife’s having a baby,” he bluffed. “She’s been in labour for over twenty hours. I think I must have nodded off in the waiting area.”

  “Aren’t you a little old to be a father?” asked Carmen, clearly sceptical of this suggestion.

  “No, I’m only in my early fifties,” said Josh. “Lots of men have children at this age. My wife’s much younger than me. I met her after my divorce and we tied the knot a couple of years ago. Still got it!” he added, unable to resist slipping into his ostentatious persona.

  “Traded in the first wife for a younger model, no doubt,” said Carmen. “What is it with you middle-aged men and having to prove your virility?”

  “I didn’t realise that part of your nursing duties included issuing moral judgements,” replied Josh. “My wife’s having a long labour and I dozed off and wandered into the wrong room. It’s as simple as that.”

  “You certainly did – the full length of the hospital and three floors,” replied Carmen. “Well, I am sure we can clear this all up. I’ll just check with the maternity ward, shall I? What’s your wife’s name?”

  “Emma,” he said, again saying the first name that came into his head.

  “Emma Gardner,” said Carmen. “I’ll just go and find out how she’s doing. She must be worried about you, disappearing like that when she’s about to give birth.”

  It was clear from Carmen’s demeanour that she didn’t believe a word of it. The nurses in this hospital were clearly no fools, judging by the two he had met so far. Just as she turned to go, he was struck by the significance of what she had said.

  “Wait,” he said. “How do you know my surname?”

  “It’s standard practice,” she said. “We have to identify every patient that comes in, and looking at personal effects is the easiest way.”

  “You looked in my wallet?” he asked, fearful of what she may have discovered. “That’s private.”

  “Yes, I did,” she replied. “And rather interesting it was, too, Mr Gardner, if that is indeed your real name. You know, if you are going to create a fake driving licence, you should at least make sure it has a realistic date of birth on it. You must be vain in the extreme if you think you are going to pass for twenty-three years old.”

  “Yeah, that was a mistake by the DVLA,” he said, hoping that they were still called that in this time period. “I keep meaning to send it off for them to correct it.”

  “Really?” she said. “Well, while they are about it, they might want to issue one that’s the right colour and actually looks like a real driving licence.”

  Oops, thought Josh. He hadn’t thought about that, but then he hadn’t expected anyone to go rooting about in his wallet. She would be expecting to see one of the old, plastic, pink types that he used to have when he first started driving.

  “And just a friendly word of advice,” added Carmen. “I don’t know what sort of life you lead, but you might want to think about how much cash you are carrying around with you. Not everyone finding someone collapsed on the floor might be scrupulous enough not to help themselves to the two grand stuffed in your wallet.”

  Josh decided to be agreeable. There was no point arguing with her. “Thanks, Carmen,” he replied. “I’ll bear it in mind.”

  “Good,” replied the nurse. “Now you wait there while I go and find out how your wife’s doing, I will be back shortly.”

  “What about my breakfast?” shouted out the patched-up drunk from the opposite bed.

  “All in good time,” said Carmen politely, but with a resigned air. She had clearly been doing this job a long time.

  As soon as she was out of the way, Josh jumped out of bed. Whoever had put him to bed had managed to get his normal clothes off and put him into standard-issue hospital bedclothes. So where were his clothes and the rest of his stuff? Most importantly, where was the tachyometer? The thought of losing that didn’t bear thinking about it.

  The mystery of what had occurred in Thomas Scott’s room to cause his current predicament would have to wait. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Carmen returned, freshly armed with the knowledge that there was no Emma Gardner, heavy with child, in the maternity ward.

  He needed to get his act together and get out of there as quickly as possible. Once he had retreated to a safe distance he could try and figure out what had happened.

  There was a small, white table next to his bed. It had a single drawer and a cupboard door that opened outwards beneath it. He opened the lower door and was relieved to find his shoes and clothes inside. He quickly began to change. Conscious of the aggressive man staring at him, he drew the curtain around the bed before taking off his bottom half.

  “What’s the matter, got a small penis?” called out the man mockingly.

  Josh ignored him, finished dressing, and then opened the top drawer. The only thing in there was his watch. It was a highly advanced, solar-powered device that was as accurate as the most advanced atomic clock this time period had to offer.

  It wasn’t very accurate now, appearing to be completely dead. Could that have been a result of whatever had happened in Scott’s room?

  Slipping it onto his wrist in the faint hope it might start working again, he pulled the drawer out to its full extent. It was no good; there was nothing else in there. He had drawn a blank and now he was missing both the tachyometer and his wallet.

  A quick search of his backpack, tucked between the table and his bed, also proved fruitless. That scuppered his plan of making a swift exit before Carmen came back. He was going to have to try and appeal to her better nature to get his stuff back. This might prove difficult, and lying about the non-existent Emma Gardner wasn’t going to help.

  Perhaps he should change back into his pyjamas, get back into bed, play the dutiful patient, and try and wheedle the whereabouts of his missing items from her. But before he could do so, she reappeared, pulling open the curtain.

  “Going somewhere?” she enquired.

  “Do you mind?” protested Josh. “I could have been naked then.”

  “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” said Carmen. “Who do you think got you undressed and into bed earlier? Now where exactly do you think you’re going? I don’t recall saying that you could get dressed.”

  “I need to get out of here,” said Josh. “You can see there’s nothing wrong with me, and I know how much you NHS people need the beds. You do still have the NHS in your time, don’t you?”

  “Just about,” said Carmen. “And what do you mean, in my time?”

  “Never mind,” said Josh, making a mental note that he really must stop dropping anachronistic comments into conversations. “Look, I’m not doing any harm, am I? I haven’t committed any crime, and I’m not ill. I just wandered into the wrong room in the night and passed out.”

  “Ah, yes, while you were waiting for your fictional wife to give birth,” replied Carmen sarcastically. “I’ve checked with maternity and, as I suspected, there is no Emma Gardner there.”

  “Maybe she already had the baby and went home?” suggested Josh.

  “Maybe you should stop trying to pull the wool over my eyes,” said Carmen. “I’m an old hand at this and I know every trick in the book. Now I don’t know what you’re doing here but clearly there’s nothing wrong with you so perhaps you’re right. Maybe you should just leave becau
se I really don’t have the time to play these little games with you any longer.”

  “What about my stuff?” asked Josh.

  “I’m afraid you are going to have to go and see Barry on security to get that back,” replied Carmen. “But let me warn you now, he’s ex-Army, and he doesn’t suffer fools gladly.”

  Josh didn’t like the sound of Barry. Would he be just as insufferably difficult to deal with as everyone else he had met in this hospital?

  “Can’t you just get it back for me?” he asked, almost pleadingly.

  “I’m afraid I can’t,” replied Carmen. “And I should warn you, they were very interested down there in that wand thing you had with you. Barry was talking about calling in the police, or possibly even the anti-terrorist squad.”

  That was the last thing Josh needed. He had better get down there and try and sort it out before things got out of control.

  “Where do I find Barry?” he asked.

  She gave him the directions he needed, adding at the end, “And one final thing. I don’t ever want to see you around here again, is that clear? Because if I do, I will be certain you are up to no good and will have no hesitation calling the police.”

  “Fine,” he replied. He had no intention of coming back here in this time or any other. The peculiar events of the last few hours had taken the edge off his desire to go travelling for a while. Suddenly the thought of getting back home and going off on a long holiday with Alice seemed quite appealing after all.

  Gathering his stuff together, he got ready to leave, under the ever-scowling gaze of the man opposite.

  “Bye, mate,” he said cheerily as he made his way to the door.

  “You’re no mate of mine” was the predictable, growled response.

  “Whatever,” replied Josh, as he exited the room, thankful to be finally away from the horrible man.

  Ten minutes later he was standing in front of a white, wooden door with a simple metal plate announcing “Security” on it. Psyching himself up, he knocked on the door, hoping that Barry would not turn out to be the ogre that he feared.

  Those hopes were swiftly dashed. The door was flung open, and a large, ruddy-faced and thickset man in his late-fifties stood glowering at him beneath a mop of thick, white hair. He was holding half a fruit scone, generously laden with jam and cream, in his right hand.

  “What the bloody hell do you want?” bellowed the man. “Don’t you know I’m having my tea break?”

  “Sorry,” said Josh, immediately put onto the back foot. “Are you Barry? I was just hoping I could get my stuff. I was brought in last night and some things were sent down here for safe keeping.”

  “Oh, you’re the terrorist from level 6, aren’t you?” said Barry, eyeing him up suspiciously. “Yes, I’ve got your card well and truly marked, son.”

  “Do I look like a terrorist?” asked Josh, wondering why the man felt the need to call him ‘son’. He couldn’t have been more than five years older than him, at most.

  “Who can tell these days?” asked Barry. “Don’t you watch the news? I spent time in Iraq and Afghanistan, you know. That was no picnic, I can tell you. You can’t let your guard down for a second. Trust no one, that’s my motto.”

  “I thought that was The X-Files,” suggested Josh, a little cheekily.

  “Don’t get clever with me, lad,” replied Barry. “You’re up to no good, I reckon. I can tell a wrong ’un a mile off.”

  “Oh, yes, and what makes me a wrong ’un?” asked Josh, feeling frustrated at this man making judgements about him on the very scant evidence he had.

  “I don’t like the look of you, that’s what,” said Barry, looking him up and down as he wolfed down the last piece of his scone.

  Josh couldn’t see what could possibly identify himself as a wrong ’un, but clearly Barry had made up his mind. He would just have to try and reason with the man.

  Attempting to appeal to his better nature, Josh said, “Well, I’m sorry about that. But I can assure you I’m not a terrorist. If you just give me my things, I’ll get out of your hair. Then you can get back to your tea break.”

  Judging by the plates of biscuits and cakes on the table, Barry clearly made the most of his breaks. Unfortunately, Josh’s attempt at reason had no effect.

  “Oh no?” asked Barry. “Well, if you’re not a terrorist, what’s this?” Reaching into a drawer, he pulled out the tachyometer.

  Relieved as he was to see it, Josh still needed to get his hands on it. Barry was a big bloke, a little on the chubby side, no doubt from all the cakes and biscuits, but muscular with it. Then there was his Army training to consider. Josh really didn’t fancy his chances wrestling with him to try and get it back. He would have to try and talk his way out of this situation.

  “Radiation detector,” he bluffed. “I was here checking out background levels of radon – health and safety and all that.”

  “Really?” said Barry, in an unconvinced tone. “Are you sure it’s not some sort of remote device to set off a bomb. That’s what it looks like to me.”

  “And you would know, would you?” asked Josh, getting irritated.

  “As a matter of fact, I would,” replied Barry. “That’s what I was doing in Iraq. Bomb disposal squad – a nasty job but someone’s got to do it.”

  Josh couldn’t disagree with that. Despite Barry’s somewhat irritating persona, he felt a surge of respect for the man who had carried out such a dangerous job.

  “It’s nothing like that,” he replied. “I think you’re letting your imagination run wild.”

  “In that case, you won’t mind if I press a few of these buttons,” said Barry.

  “Please don’t,” pleaded Josh, horrified. If Barry accidentally activated it and created a bubble he could vanish with it, leaving Josh stranded.

  “Relax,” said Barry, pushing a few buttons. “The thing’s knackered anyway. It doesn’t work – see? I had a good play with it before you came down.”

  He tossed the tachyometer across to Josh, who glanced at it to see that the red power light was glowing, indicating that the device was not fully charged. There didn’t seem to be any other activity – the other buttons were not lit up and neither was the display. Relieved as he was to get it back, this didn’t bode well.

  “Thank you,” he replied, stuffing it in his backpack with the intention of examining it later. “You didn’t really think it was a detonator, did you?”

  “Of course not,” said Barry, who then unexpectedly burst out laughing. “I wouldn’t have lasted long in Iraq if I’d started fiddling about like that with every device I came across, would I?”

  “No, I suppose not,” replied Josh.

  “Had you going for a bit there, though, didn’t I?” added Barry, laughing. “You people are so easy to wind up.”

  Josh felt a little more at ease thanks to this sudden change in character. This Barry clearly saw himself as a bit of a character, so he may as well try and flatter his ego.

  “Ha-ha, good one,” replied Josh. “Yeah, you certainly caught me out there. Now then, if you’ll just let me have my wallet, I’ll be on my way.”

  “Not so fast, lad,” replied Barry. “Obviously I had to look through your wallet to verify your identity, and there are one or two things I think we need to talk about it.”

  As he spoke, he reached into a drawer below his desk with his right hand, taking the opportunity with his left hand to take a jam sandwich cream from the plate above. Stuffing the whole biscuit into his mouth in one go, he produced Josh’s wallet from the drawer.

  “Oh, not this again,” replied Josh. “I’ve already been over all this with Carmen upstairs.”

  He’d have to think fast and come up with some sort of explanation. Attempting to pre-empt Barry, he said, “Look, that’s not a real licence, OK? I’m a designer on a sci-fi TV series set in the future and that’s a prop I’m working on for the main character.”

  It was a lame excuse, but surprisingly Barry didn’t question i
t. He seemed more interested in the money. “So what’s with all the cash, then?”

  Maybe Josh could try another tack.

  “Look, Barry,” he said. “I can’t imagine this job pays that well. How about…”

  Barry cut him off before he could finish, moving a couple of paces closer to Josh and invading his personal space. Bristling with apparent anger, even redder in the face than before he almost shouted at point-blank range into his face, “Are you trying to offer me a bribe?!”

  Josh was seriously taken aback by yet another sudden switch in personality and immediately began to backtrack. “Err, no of course not…”

  “And why not?” said Barry, instantly dropping the belligerent persona and roaring with laughter again. Josh was finding Barry’s unpredictable behaviour seriously irksome.

  Holding out the wallet in front of him and opening it, Barry added, “Here, shall we call it a hundred?”

  He peeled off two fifty-pound notes, and then handed the wallet back over to Josh.

  “Got you going again, didn’t I?” said Barry, seemingly very pleased with himself. “Bet that shit you up a bit.”

  “You enjoy this job, don’t you?” asked Josh, quickly pocketing the wallet.

  “Absolutely love it,” replied Barry. “Can you tell?”

  “Just a bit,” replied Josh. “Can I go now, then?”

  “Almost,” said Barry. “You just have to sign for these things.” He handed Josh a form with a list of the items, including the tachyometer which Barry had labelled as ‘Electric toothbrush’. The cash from the wallet was also itemised at £1900.

  “You’ll notice I’ve accounted for my cut of the cash already,” said Barry.

  Eager to get out as quickly as possible, Josh signed the form, and dated it 2nd January 2025.

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself, sunshine,” said Barry. “Don’t tell me, you’re one of those people who used to post-date cheques. It’s only December 31st.”

  Of course, it would be, thought Josh. He had set the tachyometer to go two days back in time just before the incident in Scott’s room. At least it had done what it was supposed to do – perhaps it was still working, after all.