TimeRiders: City of Shadows (Book 6) (20 page)

‘Maddy?’ said Sal. ‘You
OK?’

No answer.

Liam could see her eyes were red-raw beneath
her glasses. Her cheeks were wet. She was crying. He sat on the bed beside her.
‘Maddy?’

‘She appears to be distressed,’
said Bob.

Liam waved him silent. ‘Maddy? Is
everything all right?’ She shook her head silently.

Liam didn’t dare ask the next
question. But it needed asking all the same. ‘Maddy? Your family … are
they all right? They’re not hurt in any –?’

‘They’re not my family,’
she muttered.

‘Uh?’

‘Not my family,’ she said again.
She turned from her dim reflection in the TV screen. ‘And they never
were.’

Liam leaned in closely to her. ‘Maddy?
What do you mean? What’s the matter?’

He’d never seen her like this before,
not even when things had seemed at their worst, not even that first day when
they’d all met in the darkness of the archway, freshly plucked from the very last
moments of their lives. This wasn’t normal Maddy: stressed, irritated, annoyed or
frustrated. This was a totally alien Maddy Carter: utterly crushed, defeated.

Sal got up off the chair by the door and
knelt on the floor in front of her. She could see it in her face too; this was Maddy
right at the end of her game. She reached out for her hand and squeezed it. ‘Tell
us what happened?’

‘I … I’ve worked it
out,’ she said, her voice a mucus-thick whisper.

‘Worked what out?’

She looked at Liam. ‘I’ve worked
out who we are.’

‘Who we are?’ He frowned.
Confused.

‘Or more to the point,’ she
added, ‘I’ve figured out
what
we are.’

‘What we are?’ Liam turned to
the others, then back at Maddy. ‘What in the name of Jesus an’ Mary are you
talkin’ about?’

‘Shadd-yah!’ Sal muttered under
her breath.

Liam looked at her. The one eye of hers not
hidden by her looping fringe had suddenly widened with realization. She seemed to have
some inkling of what Maddy was talking about. ‘What, Sal? What’s she mean by
that?’

‘We’re not who we thought we
were, Liam,’ said Maddy.

‘Not who we …’ His brows
locked. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Your life is just a lie,
Liam … a story,’ said Maddy. ‘Fiction.’

‘Maddy? What happened?’ asked
Sal.

Maddy laughed. More a wet snort of snot mixed
with tears. ‘They obviously didn’t expect we’d come looking for the
truth. Why would they?’ She took her glasses off and wiped at her eyes. ‘I
mean, Foster made such a big thing of it, didn’t he? That we should be dead
already … that this extra life was like a bonus or something. A
gift.’

Liam nodded. Of course he had. The old man
made no bones about that. There’d been a choice right at the end of their old
lives: not much of a choice admittedly, but a choice nonetheless. He could have gone
down with the
Titanic
if he’d wanted, but he’d chosen to join
Foster.

‘We all chose it, Maddy,’ said
Liam. ‘Right at the end, when he saved us all.’

She laughed. A miserable, choking sound. She
shook her head. ‘But that’s the point! We didn’t!’

‘Didn’t?’ Liam
hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. ‘Yes, I did. I chose to
–’

‘No … no, you
didn’t,’ said Sal quietly. Nodding. She understood now. ‘Or
me … I didn’t either.’ Her one visible eye was beginning to spill
glistening tears on to her dark cheek.

‘Ah Jay-zus!
You
crying too?
What’s up with you both? Why’re you crying?
What is goin’ on
here?
’

‘None of us chose to join this agency
in the last moments of our lives, Liam,’ said Maddy. ‘Because none of that
ever happened.’

Sal’s head dropped, her face dipped
out of sight. He could see her shoulders heaving gently. He looked around. The only
other person here who seemed utterly bewildered by all of this was Rashim. He offered
Liam a sympathetic shrug that seemed to say,
I got no idea what they’re
talking about either.

‘Our memories,
Liam … everything we thought were memories of our lives before the archway,
before we were
recruited …’ Maddy’s chin dimpled as
fresh tears streamed down her face. ‘Everything. My home, my mom, my dad, my
school, my job … they’re all lies. They’re phoney.’

‘Information: memory implants.’
Even Bob seemed to have an understanding of what she was saying now.

Maddy nodded. ‘Faked memories. Our
lives are just made up. I never lived in Boston. Sal never lived in India. And
you …’ Her voice faltered. ‘Oh, Liam, you never came from
Ireland.’

‘But …’ Liam bit his lip.
‘But I’m from Cork! I know I am!
I’m … that’s … what kind of nonsense do you think
you’re –’

‘We didn’t come from those
places. We never lived there; we never even set foot in any of those places.’

‘Whuh?’

‘I get it.’ Sal’s soft
voice drifted up through the drooping curtain of her hair. ‘We came right out of
three giant test-tubes.’

Maddy nodded. She reached out and rested a
hand on Sal’s shoulder. A reciprocated gesture of comfort.

‘Do you get it, Liam? Do you
see?’ said Sal. ‘We’re support units.’

2055, W.G. Systems Research Campus, near
Pinedale, Wyoming

‘Can I trust you, Joseph?’

Joseph Olivera lurched. That question came
right out of nowhere and caught him entirely off guard. Waldstein was standing beside
him in the lab, seemingly emerging from thin air.

‘Wh-what? Yes! Of … of
course, Mr Waldstein.’

A long, uncomfortable moment.

‘I’m so very sorry about what
happened to Frasier. He was the closest thing to a friend I have.’ He shrugged.
‘
Had
.’ He sighed. ‘God, I’ve known him for nearly
ten years.’

Joseph swallowed compulsively. He had the
suspicion that an aura of guilt was glowing around him: a scintillating sparkle of
betrayal giving away his secret intentions to Waldstein’s deep penetrative
gaze.

‘The argument the other
day … I’m sorry you had to see that. That was unfortunate. I wish
Frasier and I hadn’t fought like that. I …’ Waldstein looked away.
‘And I truly wish that hadn’t been the last time we spoke.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘But he had doubts, Joseph. Doubts
about this project. Even if that awful attack on the road hadn’t happened to him,
he would have had to leave us.’

Joseph nodded.

‘You know, I’ve been thinking it
would be a sensible precaution to deposit some more pre-growth embryos back in the San
Francisco drop point.’ Waldstein nodded to himself. ‘Yes, we should arrange
that. As soon as is possible. Get some ready to transport.’

‘Go back there? Again? Are you
sure?’

‘I know, Joseph. It’s risky. But
I suspect they’re going to get through more support units than I originally
anticipated. You know … when we were setting up the 2001 team, I was half
convinced they’d never actually be needed – that they’d be just sitting
there kicking their heels. That I was overreacting, being paranoid. Worrying too much
about other time travellers out there wanting to destabilize our timeline!’ He
shook his head. ‘I realize now maybe I wasn’t paranoid enough!’

‘Yes, sir.’ Joseph checked their
inventory on the holo-screen in front of him. There were two dozen embryos on ice: part
of the batch being readied for the US military’s field-testing programme.
‘How many would you want me to prepare?’

‘Let’s give them half a dozen.
Maybe send them some of
both
types of hybrid; the heavy-duty model and the
female recon model. Might as well give them a few of each.’

Listed on the screen were the other clones,
who were nothing at all to do with the US military. ‘What about the pure-clone
models? The Madelaines, Liams … the Saleenas?’

Waldstein gave it a moment’s thought.
‘No … if we send back pre-growths of themselves they’ll know what
they are. We were very lucky with that first team. Very lucky that the Liam unit played
along with us and kept the new team from finding out what they are.’

‘It’s part of his programming.
He’s loyal. Duty oriented. That’s his personality template.’

‘But even with your programming,
Joseph, they’re not a hundred per cent reliable, are they?’

Joseph shrugged. ‘They have the
capacity for independent will. That’s what makes them better –’

‘– tactical decision-makers, I know.
But when all’s said and done, unlike the military hybrids, those three are just
like real people, aren’t they? They’re like real kids. If they ever found
out they were products? Good God, who knows what they’d do?’ Waldstein
sighed. ‘I do sometimes wonder if what we’ve done is … a
cruel
thing: created three children who-never-were and then gave them this
sort of burden. If that was me,’ he said, smiling sadly, ‘if I discovered
that was my lot, I think I would almost certainly turn on my maker.’

Joseph nodded.

‘No, they’ll have to be on their
own. We can’t send back pure-clone embryos. If it happens again – if another one
of them dies …’ Waldstein shrugged. ‘Then I’m afraid
they’ll have to work around that problem.’ He sighed. ‘There’s
only so much we can do for them.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘So, if you could organize that? Prep
some embryos and ready them for transport?’

‘Yes, of course.’

Waldstein looked out of the lab’s
small window, a long moment of deliberation before he finally spoke again. ‘And
I’ll take them back myself. But this has to be the last time we go back to assist
them with supplies. The
last
time I go back. It’s getting too damned
dangerous.’

Joseph looked at him.
‘Perhaps …?’

‘What?’

Be very careful, Joseph.

‘P-perhaps … this project
has
already
become too dangerous, Mr Waldstein?’

The old man stared at him for a moment.
Joseph wondered what thoughts were thrashing around behind those intense eyes. He
struggled to keep his composure. ‘I … I just wonder if things have
become –’

‘We don’t have much of a choice
in the matter. This has to work. You understand that, don’t you?’

Joseph could hardly meet his eyes.
‘But …’

‘There are no
buts
, Joseph.
We’re the first and the last line of defence. Do you understand? Do you honestly
think we’re the
only
people in the world right now with viable
time-travel technology? I’m not a fool. Yes, there’s a law now: ILA Ruling
234. A draconian law. But I’m not naive enough to think there aren’t people
out there quietly working on time travel all the same.’

‘Yes, Mr Waldstein.’

He leaned over and squeezed Joseph’s
shoulder affectionately. ‘You’ve seen for yourself what our team in the past
have narrowly prevented.’

Joseph looked at the small window. Outside
that window, beyond the reach of their laboratory stasis field, he’d witnessed a
time wave arrive and leave behind it an irradiated wasteland. Just for a few minutes it
had been there – a hellish landscape – then washed away by another wave moments
later.

‘I know this isn’t an
ideal
world –’ Waldstein laughed drily at that understatement –
‘but there are an infinite number of possibilities far worse.’ Waldstein
squeezed his shoulder again. ‘Trust me. Just stay the course. You’re a good
man, Joseph. I know I can trust you. I know that.’

‘Th-thank you, sir.’

He got up off the stool and stepped away.
Other matters appeared to be on his mind. ‘I have a damned meeting I need to
attend in Denver tomorrow. W.G. Systems’ investors, some of our major clients. I
could do without that right now, but …’ He sighed. ‘It’s one I
really do have to be at.’ Waldstein looked harried, stretched, like plastic wrap
over the hard corners of a box, pulled taut to the point of ripping.

‘I know things have been difficult
recently, Joseph. I … I wish Frasier was here with us still.
It’s … well, what happened to him was horrible. I suppose it’s a
sign of these awful times. You know, I sometimes think we deserve this hopeless world.
All our mistakes have finally come home to roost, haven’t they?’

Joseph nodded, and Waldstein looked like his
train of thought was heading off in some other direction. ‘Just you and me running
this project now.’

‘Yes, Mr Waldstein.’

‘We need to keep things going. To keep
things on track. All the hard work’s been done now. All we need to do now is just
make sure our team can continue doing their job. I’m sure they’ll be fine
back there.’ He smiled. ‘They’re good kids. I’m so proud of
them. And you too, Joseph. They’re as much your creations as they are anyone
else’s.’

‘Thank you.’

Waldstein nodded and turned to go.

‘Mr Waldstein?’

‘Yes?’

‘When will you want the embryos ready
by?’

He sucked in a breath. ‘I hate doing
this, you know? Having to step into that white mist. Knowing that it’s killing me
cell by cell. Knowing that every time we open a goddamn portal we’re broadcasting
our presence to those who might be looking for it.’

‘That worries me too, Mr
Waldstein.’

‘And this, then, will have to be the
last time. They’re on their own after this.’ Waldstein sighed. ‘Have
the embryos good to go for this evening, will you? Let’s get it done and out of
the way.’ He nodded to himself. ‘This evening.’

‘I will have them ready.’

‘Thank you. And after
that … hopefully the Saleena unit will be ready to drop back in
Brooklyn?’

‘She’ll need another thirteen
hours, I think, to full growth. Then I’ll need a few hours to upload and configure
her new memory.’

‘Fine, as soon as she’s ready
get her sent back. You’ll be OK doing that on your own?’

‘Of … of course, Mr
Waldstein.’ Joseph tapped his h-pad. ‘I have the insertion data-stamp as we
discussed: outside the archway, directly after the 1941 corrective wave. I have it all
ready.’