Time Riders: The Doomsday Code (49 page)

He looked to his left. The tall skyscrapers along Wall Street, the Twin Towers standing proud, thrusting into the cloudless sky. He pulled his Trade Center security pass out of his breast pocket and gazed at his passport photo: a daft grinning face above a crisp shirt and tie. If Maddy was right, this pass wasn’t even going to get him past Reception on his floor, let alone allow him to enter the IT room and his personal office.

And his apartment keys? He pulled them out and jangled them in one hand.

Somebody else’s home now.

He shook his head. It was too damned strange. Too weird. Standing here in a wholly unchanged world, unchanged except that Adam Lewis was living a very different life in it.

Mission Control to Adam: what if she made that up?

He didn’t believe Maddy Carter would. She seemed the genuine type.

OK, then, Adam. How about this? What if you just dreamed this all up? Eh? What if this has all been a hallucination? What if you’ve turned into a loony?

The thought of that sent a chill down his spine. ‘It happened,’ he told himself. ‘All that time-travel stuff happened. I’m not a bloody loony.’

Only one way to find out then, old son. Hmmm?

He looked at the Twin Towers, then glanced at his watch. It was just gone eight in the morning. Maybe he should at least check: walk in and swipe his card at the reception desk, see what happened? If it let him through, then it meant his old life was still there. The well-paid consultancy job, the fancy riverside apartment, the exclusive gym membership. It just meant he’d had one helluva hallucination.

And, of course, it means you might need to go and see a head doctor.

He laughed at that. A therapist. Crazy. Maybe this whole thing had been some sort of trip? Maybe he’d had a little too much to drink last night? Maybe someone had slipped something funny in his drink?

Only one way to find out
, Mission Control said again.

He tucked his keys back in his pocket and turned left, heading down Bowery towards the World Trade Center. He figured half an hour from now he was going to be behind his desk again and wondering where the hell he’d got the fanciful idea from that he’d actually spent the night in a dingy brick archway with a team of time-travelling kids.

Crazy.

Sal put down the pen and took in the quiet archway. On Liam’s bunk was a small stack of history books that he was working his way through. The one on top looked like it had something to do with the American Civil War; the cover was all flags and crossed swords and bearded generals. Right now he was downtown. Said he wanted to take a walk and clear his head. Sal got the distinct feeling he wasn’t so happy to be back as he’d let on. That maybe he could have been quite happy living on in the year 1194.

‘I was actually the Sheriff of Nottingham for a while,’ he’d told her rather proudly, and, she suspected, a little wistfully. Sal knew something was also troubling him. She’d heard him murmuring in his sleep last night … telling someone over and over that he was ‘so very sorry’.

His eyes. Old before they should be.

Eyes. That word suddenly stirred a memory.

I saw something a couple of days ago. It’s a bear, a child’s teddy bear. I can’t explain why it’s playing on my mind. I know I’ve seen that bear before. I mean ‘before’, like before me being a TimeRider. I just can’t quite remember where or when. It’s totally dullah. Weirding me out!

Through the open door into the back room she could see Bob’s form floating in the nutrient-rich amber soup, gently kicking in his sleep as something close to a dream must have been running through his head. His lower arm had grown bone first and now was at the stage of sprouting ribbons of feathery pink muscle tissue.

It was quiet in the archway.

Becks and Maddy, they were out together to give Foster an update. Sal wanted to go along and say, ‘Hi’. But Maddy had said, ‘Not this time’.

She’s always doing that. Treating me like a child
.

She sighed irritably.

‘Just me,’ she said aloud, her voice echoing around the brick walls and coming back to her. She got down off her bunk bed with a squeak of springs and sauntered over to the computer desk and sat down.

‘Bob?’

> Hello, Sal.

‘Wanna play a game of something?’

> Certainly. What would you like to play?

‘Do you have any Pikodu puzzles on your system?’

> Affirmative. Would you like to do a two-player one?

‘Yes.’

One of the monitors flickered to life with a complicated mosaic of icons.

‘And put some music on. Something really heavy.’

> What would you like?

She clucked her tongue. ‘What about that band Maddy took us to see? What were they called again?’

> EssZed.

‘Yeah, let’s have some of their stuff.’

The faint rumble of a train passing overhead was lost behind the opening powerchord of a distorted guitar and the rasping deep drawl of the vocals. She sat back in her chair and nodded along to the beat. ‘Go on, then,’ she said, nodding at the webcam. ‘Your go first.’

Foster was sitting on the park bench, just like the last time she saw him, pulling nuggets of dough from a hotdog bun and throwing it to a strutting pack of impatient pigeons.

‘Hey,’ said Maddy.

He looked up at her and smiled. ‘You found me, then.’ He studied the girl standing beside Maddy. ‘And who’s this?’

‘Oh, yeah, this is Becks. We grew her.’

Foster’s eyes narrowed for a moment, then flickered with recognition. ‘Yes … of course! That’s the female model. You know about the San Francisco drop point, I take it?’

‘Yup.’

His eyes were drawn to the swirling ridges of scarred skin tissue running up her left arm. ‘Looks like she’s seen action already.’

Maddy sat down next to him. ‘A prehistoric monster bit her arm off. That’s regrowth there.’

His eyes rounded. ‘
Prehistoric?
’

Maddy nodded. ‘That’s a whole
other
story, Foster. I told you about it last time.’

‘Oh … this is not the first time you’ve come to me? I must seem like some senile old fart.’

‘Relax,’ she said, laughing, ‘it’s only the second.’

‘Ahhh … So, how are you coping?’

She sighed. ‘OK so far, I think. History’s still in one piece.’ She looked around the park. A toddler was tormenting the pigeons, his parents a few dozen yards away watching him. No one close enough to ear-wig. ‘Foster, I really need to talk to you about something.’

He threw the rest of the bun at the pigeons and dusted the crumbs off his hands. ‘Go on.’

‘Does the word
Pandora
mean anything at all to you?’

He tilted his head in thought. ‘Do you mean apart from the Greek legend?’

Maddy nodded.

‘No … I –’ he shook his head – ‘nothing especially.’

‘Only … when we were getting the spare foetuses from the San Francisco drop point, I discovered a handwritten note addressed to me, telling me to look out for it.’

He frowned. ‘Odd.’

‘There’s more.’ Maddy proceeded to spend the next ten minutes talking, explaining all about the Voynich Manuscript, Adam Lewis, the Holy Grail and freemasons from the future. Finally she explained that some sort of prophecy, some Big Secret, supposedly penned nearly two thousand years ago, was locked up in a password-protected portion of Becks’s brain.

‘… so, that secret, it’s right here, Foster, right inside Becks’s head. I wanted you to hear it as well as me.’

‘What about Liam and Sal?’

She shook her head. ‘They’ll be next … but I just feel I can trust you, because –’

‘Because I haven’t got long to live?’

Maddy winced. He was right. ‘No, that’s not it. It’s … The note said “tell no one”. So whatever Becks has got to tell us, I guess I just want to hear it first before I share it with the others.’

He nodded. ‘Fair enough. You’re quite right.’

Maddy beckoned Becks to sit down on the bench on the other side of Foster. ‘Becks … I’m going to open your locked partition now – are you ready?’

‘Affirmative,’ she said coolly.

‘I’m sort of worried, Foster. It’s something important. I’m sure it’s something to do with the future.’

‘Perhaps something the future knows about the past?’ he added.

‘Yeah … Could be anything really. But this – what she’s about to say –’ Maddy laughed a little manically – ‘this secret is what the legend of the Holy Grail is all about.’ She looked at him. ‘I’ll be honest with you … that kinda freaks me out a little. It’s going to be a big thing, right? Big. It’s gonna change things.’

He nodded thoughtfully. ‘Possibly.’

‘I’m scared.’

‘It’s just
information
, Maddy. Better to know something, than not.’ He reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘We’ll figure it out together, so we will.’

‘All right.’ She leaned across the old man. ‘Becks. Listen very closely.’ She lowered her voice. ‘iPad – Caveman – Breakfast.’

Becks’s face suddenly became a blank canvas, expressionless. Her eyes locked on Maddy. ‘Hello, Maddy.’ She looked at Foster. ‘Who is this?’

‘He’s Foster, he’s one of the agency. He can be trusted. Do you understand?’

‘Affirmative.’

‘You remember you used that
cardan
grille
to decode the Holy Grail document.’

‘Yes, Maddy, I do. It was a very interesting task.’

‘Good. I want you to tell me and Foster exactly what you read.’

Becks’s mouth opened to speak, then froze. She remained motionless for a good ten seconds before Maddy and Foster exchanged a questioning look.

‘Becks? What’s the matter?’

The question unfroze the support unit and her grey eyes swivelled on to her. ‘I am unable to comply with your request,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I cannot reveal the message to you, Maddy. Not at this time.’

‘What? Who says?’

Becks’s eyes flickered as she checked data. ‘I am unable to reveal that. But it is a higher authority than yours.’

‘A higher authority?’ She looked at Foster. ‘A
higher authority
? Do you know who she’s talking about?’

Foster frowned, puzzled. ‘No … no, I don’t.’

‘Oh God, I don’t like this,’ she whispered. ‘Secrets within secrets. I hate it! It means somebody’s getting
used
here. And that somebody’s probably
me
.’

She turned to Becks. ‘Can you tell me anything about the message? Anything at all?’

‘I am allowed to tell you it is a warning. That is all.’

‘But you said I can’t know about it
yet
.’

‘Affirmative.’

‘Which – What? – Which means you’re going to be allowed to tell me at some point in time?’

‘Correct.’

‘When?’

Becks tilted her head slightly, almost the way a dog will do. Her grey eyes searched data, then finally settled back on Maddy. ‘When it is the end.’