Lifespan of Starlight (11 page)

Another breath, and I let myself sink. I still feel like I’m feeling my way towards
a place I’ve never been, but it’s easier now. The finish line is there waiting, somewhere
ahead of me.

There’s no sense of a sinkhole the way Mason described. It’s more as if I’ve been
washed into a never-ending tunnel, my senses dulled and my thoughts mute as I drift.
There is a place deep within me where now is the only time that exists.

For some reason I’m tired when I pull out, not refreshed at all. But I know I came
closer than ever.

The difference this time, I suppose, is that I’ve begun to believe that maybe I can
do it too.

Mason calls the following afternoon, asking when I’ll be there. It’s a question of
‘when’ rather than ‘if ’. I’m not sure whether I should go, but I also doubt anything
could stop me.

He’s still beaming when he opens the door; I imagine that
he’s had the same look
on his face since I left yesterday. He pulls me into a victory bear hug.

‘So I’ve been reading up,’ Mason says over my shoulder before pulling back. ‘We all
have these interval timers in our brains. They’re part of the body clock network,
except these ones help us create our own sense of time. Can you control the exact
time you return?’ He lets go of my shoulders and finally pauses for breath.

‘Ah … sometimes.’

‘And guess what? I did it again this morning. Eight seconds. Think I’m getting a
feel for it.’

Mason turns to the comscreen on the coffee table, and it’s only now that I realise
we’re not alone.

Boc. ‘Longest bloody seconds of my entire life,’ he says over the top of the screen.
‘And then I copped an eyeful when he came back. Almost gave me a heart attack.’

Mason turns back to me, still grinning. ‘At least we know why she wouldn’t jump in
front of us.’ He’s staring at me the same way he did last night, as if we’re forever
linked. For some reason it makes me blush and look away.

‘The feeling’s mutual, Scout, in case you’re wondering,’ Boc calls, his eyes back
on the comscreen. ‘No way my first jump will be in front of you.’

Mason does an about-face and starts pacing like an army cadet. ‘I know what you mean
about it being gut feel. I get it now. You can’t overthink it, you have to feel your
way in.’ Part way across the room, he turns back to face me.

Finally he falls quiet, his eyes resting on me softly as if deep in thought and I
can’t help wondering if we’re thinking the same thing.
About last night
…

‘Yeah, I think you’ve got it,’ I say honestly. I’m in the presence of a guy who worked
out the secret to time travel.

‘Well, what do you know,’ Boc declares, raising his eyebrows at Mason.

‘You found her?’ Mason makes his way to the comscreen and wedges a foot on the armrest.

I make my way round the back of the couch. ‘Found who?’ On the screen is the grid
in real time, zoomed in far enough to see a single dot moving slowly along one edge
of a long room.

‘New cleaning lady at school.’ Boc zooms in so close that we can see her travelling
slowly up the screen. ‘Someone noticed that she never orders lunch in the cafe. Always
brings it in.’

‘And skipped lunch the other day,’ says Mason.

‘So?’ I’m balanced over the back of the couch, tipping forwards slightly.

‘So we thought she might be illegal,’ says Boc. ‘You can tell because they don’t
come up on the grid. They’re not chipped.’

I take in the screen again. The dot’s nearly at the end of the room. ‘But that’s
her, isn’t it? That person’s chipped. You’re sure that’s her?’

‘Yeah, I found the cleaning roster on the school’s system. So I knew where she would
be. And that’s her wing all right. Room 11C.’

I let myself sink low so that my chin and forearms are the only parts of me resting
on the back of the couch, a protective barrier of sorts.

In silence we stare, mesmerised by the dot.

‘What if you couldn’t find her on the grid?’ I ask, still watching. ‘What if she
wasn’t chipped?’

‘Well …’ Mason and Boc exchange a look. ‘We’d eyeball her in the real world first,
make sure we had it right.’

‘Remember that skinny kid at the tip?’ Mason asks Boc, before turning to me. ‘That’s
what we were doing when we first noticed your gaps. Want a drink?’

I shake my head, but can’t help following him. I end up standing in the middle of
the room, anchorless somehow. ‘So did you find what you were looking for?’

‘Just that once, at the tip. The rest of the time the grid proved us wrong.’

‘And what happened?’

‘What happened when?’

‘With the person who you found that wasn’t chipped?’

‘We did what anyone would do,’ Boc says. ‘Called the Feds.’

I try to act as if this conversation is no big deal, but my blood has gone cold.

‘What?’ This from Boc.

‘Nothing.’ I clamp my lips together, but not for long. ‘I don’t know. You don’t feel
guilty?’

‘Why should I?’ Boc shakes his head.

‘Not at all.’ Mason sips from the can and swallows. ‘I mean,
look at you. You’re
the reason we ration, so we can nurture the people who will make a difference, make
sure they reach their potential.’ A pause while he sips again. ‘Like … imagine if
you weren’t a citizen. You’d land in a new time with no rations, no way to survive.
We might never have worked out that time skipping is even possible.’ His eyes go
wide to show how crazy that would be.

My lips push together again, holding back a retort. ‘But … that only works in hindsight,
doesn’t it? I mean, how can you tell who will make a difference and who won’t?’

‘That’s just where we have to trust the system.’ Mason lifts a hand as if that’s
obvious.

They’re both watching me, not the screen. I breathe in. Remind myself that they were
trying to catch someone else, not me. ‘Yeah. It’s just … I feel sorry for them, I
guess.’

‘Well, if you’re looking for a charity case, Scout? Here’s one.’ Boc waves a hand,
switching the comscreen to standby, and stands up from the couch.

‘I’m the only one here who can’t time skip. Think you can work out why?’

The three of us start meditating after that. Mason gets so excited that he does most
of the talking as we go in. Staying quiet and telling Boc that he’ll get a feel for
it seems to be all that’s needed from me. And anyway, each time Mason disappears,
the shock and sheer mystery of it overshadows all else.

He’s able to do it every time now, reaching that place of deep focus just a bit faster,
staying away a touch longer. Already he’s able to make nearly a full minute. That
might not sound like much, but it’s a long time to sit through, with nothing for
me and Boc to do other than watch the compad stopwatch race through its digits.

Of course Mason’s naked whenever he returns, but it’s become so normal that it’s
not as big a deal as you might think. He always reappears with his legs crossed,
the same as when he went in, and the talk is always about how much time has passed,
how he felt. In the strangest of ways, it’s become so natural that I don’t even look
the other way.

Other things have changed, too. When Boc first watched Mason time skip, he’d get
all energised. He used to ask a heap of questions, but not so many anymore. These
days he seems to like it less and less. His breathing grows louder as we wait, a
sort of fug of annoyance growing about him the longer he takes to learn. Each second
that ticks past is one second more that he’s been left behind.

Of course, I know how that feels exactly.

Mason asks me over on a Saturday afternoon about three weeks after he first time
skipped. It gives me a flip inside followed by a flash of nerves when I realise we’re
on our own. Boc’s on a mountain biking trip out of the city, and he’s taken my safety
net with him.

‘So, I have an idea.’ Mason taps a whiteboard that’s been propped upright on the
floor, and then leans to adjust the stand. ‘I got you this.’

‘A whiteboard?’

‘Yeah.’ Mason crosses his legs to sit behind it and motions for me to do the same
on the other side. A grin once I’m settled, just his head visible over the top. ‘What
do you think?’

All I can think to do is lift my eyebrows in a vague sort of shrug.

‘A fix for, you know, the clothing issue.’

My eyebrows drop into a frown. ‘You want me to time skip behind this?’

‘Yeah, listen. I know it’s weird. Trust me, I know.’ All I can see is Mason’s head
above the screen. ‘But what do you think?’

‘I don’t know, it’s a little …’ thinking fast, ‘
low
don’t you think?’ I have to be
careful as anything with this.

‘Low?’

It was the only excuse I could think of. ‘I mean. It’s just …’ Maybe if I talk slow
enough I’ll come up with a reason not to do this. ‘I’m not even sure if I can do
it with someone else around.’ Yes. That’s it. ‘I’ve only ever time jumped on my own.’

‘Well, why don’t we try?’

And straight away, I’m back with nothing to say.

‘Listen, Scout.’ Mason crawls around to my side of the screen and settles with his
knees facing mine. We’re really close, but not actually touching. ‘I’ve been working
some stuff out, training
myself to wake at certain times of the night without using
alarms. I reckon that’s the key to all this. I mean, think about it, if we can take
control of our interval timers, the next step is jumping together.’

He pauses but I don’t look up, just focus on the faded denim of his jeans.

‘It’s like you said,’ Mason keeps going. ‘Jumping on your own means that you end
up leaving people behind, but imagine if we could synch our return …’

When he goes quiet again I can’t help lifting my head. It gives me away with the
slightest shake.

Confusion shadows his face. ‘We don’t have to go far. Just a few seconds …’

My eyes drop again. I know how dangerous this is.

‘Why not, Scout? I know you were on your own, but you’re not anymore. And this is
the most amazing …
sensational
thing I’ve ever known. Don’t you want to play with
it? Find out how much control we have? Or how far we can push?’ With each sentence
he inches further into my sightline until I’m forced to focus on his face, acknowledge
the hope in his eyes.

What can I say? I’d do anything to say yes.

‘I mean, what if we can find a way to go
backwards
?’ Mason’s peering up at me, head
to one side and eyebrows raised. ‘Don’t you want to try?’

But all I can do is pull away: ‘I’m sorry, Mason. I
can’t
.’

Mason leans away, his head straightening and his eyes hardening as he registers the
words I said.

I think my heart has stopped.

‘Can’t or
won’t
?’

All I can do is shake my head.

We’re left staring at each other. Mason’s forehead pinches, and he turns away.

He thinks I’ve rejected him, I realise with a breath. But then my throat goes tight.
He thinks I’ve rejected him.

‘I have to go.’ There’s no air left in me, but somehow the words come out. Already
I’m standing, blindly grabbing my bag. Escape is all I can think of.

At the door, I pause and glance back: ‘See you.’

‘Bye.’ He hasn’t moved. He’s still sitting in the same place, facing the space on
the floor where I used to be.

At home I gulp down a glass of water, my heart still thudding at how close I just
came. If he ever realises I can’t time skip …

I’ve been meditating on my own every day, sinking into the quiet spaces of my mind
and feeling my way into the silent tunnel. It’s not so much about taking control
of time as letting it go.

My mind is spinning right now, but I have to try. I find a place on the mat, and
breathe out. My shoulders relax as I let go, drifting down until I’m deep inside.
It’s cold down here, in this dull-mute place. There’s no light and no air. No wonder
Mason found it difficult at first.

Mason.

The next thing I know I’m out with a rush, sucked back by the mess of today. I take
in the world around me, rubbing warmth back into my arms as if to remind myself that
I exist.

My eyes close at the disappointment.
Come on, Scout. You can do this.

You have to.

I
’M HEADING OUT
to collect our delivery on Monday night when I catch Alistair carrying his box
back to his room.

He sees me in the hallway, and lifts his chin. Any news, Agent X?’

‘Not yet.’ A slow sigh. ‘Should be soon.’ I’ve tried hacking in to the Karoly High
School server, but all I could find was a list of applicants and their contact details.
‘They said I’d receive a response either way.’ Think I added that last bit more for
myself than Alistair.

His chin drops. ‘Be sure to let me know.’ He straightens his back, steadying himself
to keep walking along the hall.

I shuffle forwards as if to block his way. ‘So, how are you doing?’

‘Still working.’ A pause, as his eyes come to understand and rest on me. ‘How are
you?’