He watched as Dalton made some snide remark to Caitlin whose face flushed red as if she were going to explode.
Sim was oblivious and continued. ‘You know that has never been solved? No one has ever made it out of the room. Let alone got the key to the Bourbon treasure from the Queen. Everyone has been talking about it — even Dalton.’
Josh looked back over at Dalton, who raised his wine glass as if to congratulate him. Caitlin, on the other hand, was ignoring Josh. He wracked his memory, trying to remember what had happened that night. He’d obviously screwed up and it was probably to do with getting drunk, which usually meant waking up in a stranger’s bed with only a vague idea of how he got there. In most cases, he’d never seen the girl again so it hadn’t mattered. Caitlin was different though. He’d wanted her to like him; he’d wanted to impress her.
‘Sim,’ Josh lowered his voice so none of the others could hear, ‘are Dalton and Caitlin an item?’
Sim laughed and then realised that Josh was being serious. ‘Er. No. He just acts as if they are.’
Josh watched the two of them for a few more minutes as he finished his meal and answered Sim’s never-ending list of questions about the Paris mission.
‘Strange to have found him so late,’ Methuselah said as he watched Josh chatting to Sim at the other end of the table.
‘It happens. I was nearly fourteen when Dolovir found me,’ the colonel replied, helping himself to another slice of boar.
‘Yes. But the gift is usually apparent by ten — Copernicans boast they can track them from as early as eight!’
‘And we know how accurate their predictions can be!’
Methuselah scratched at a scar that ran down one side of his face. ‘Only too well, my friend. Only too well.’
The colonel turned to Methuselah. ‘He’s not a bad lad. I would appreciate it if you would look after him for me — I have some urgent business to attend to.’
Methuselah took a bottle of fourteenth-century red wine from the table and poured the colonel a large glass.
‘My friend, we have known each other longer than I care to remember. If you need my assistance, you have it without question.’ He held up his own glass so that they could toast each other.
‘But of course you will ask the question all the same,’ the colonel quipped as he raised his glass.
Methuselah grinned. ‘Would I be me if I did not?’
The colonel let the fine wine roll around his mouth for a moment as he considered how much to reveal.
‘I have to go back to the founder.’
‘Serious business, then?’
The colonel nodded.
‘Not that old story about the Fatalists again? He won’t entertain any more of your conspiracy theories, old boy. He’ll just send you straight to Bedlam and into the ministrations of the Grand Seer!’
The colonel let out a long sigh. ‘Not the Fatalists. This time it’s about something far more personal.’ He leaned in close to Methuselah’s ear and whispered, ‘An intercession.’
His friend’s eyes went wide, ‘Oh, how . . . ? No, don’t tell me — the last thing I need right now is the Protectorate on my back! It’s bad enough as it is bringing up four teenagers!’
‘I wouldn’t,’ the colonel said sullenly, ‘not after the last time. How is Caitlin?’
Methuselah shrugged. ‘She has good days. Your boy seems to have sparked her interest.’ He motioned towards Josh with his glass. ‘From what I hear, she has been arguing with Dalton about him all day.’
Caitlin had turned away from Dalton as if they’d fallen out. She was listening intently to the conversation between Sim and Josh without actually appearing to be. It was a trick she learned as a child, and only he could spot it.
‘Dalton says he’s a thug. Apparently, the boy put him on his backside with one punch.’
The colonel snorted. ‘Yes, Josh does have a bit of a short fuse, but Dalton probably deserved it.’
‘And if he insists that we revoke him?’ Methuselah asked in a serious tone.
‘If the Protectorate had their way, we’d never have any new recruits. Did Dalton read him?’
Methuselah nodded.
‘And?’
‘He can’t tell. Seers are not known for their modesty, but Dalton admits that he couldn’t get much in the way of a history.’
‘So he retrograded him?’
‘Of course. Dalton is one of the best, no matter what you think of his allegiances. He is a master of amnesia — he made sure the boy has no memory of the event.’
The colonel scratched his beard. ‘He’s got a lot of potential. He’ll be a millennial, I’d bet my beard on it. He just needs some polishing.’
‘Another rough diamond?’
The colonel stood up and drained his glass. ‘Aren’t we all? I’ll bid you adieu, my friend. Give my best to Alixia and tell her I’ll be back soon to admire her latest botanical restoration.’
Caitlin wrapped her arms around the colonel when he came over to say goodbye. Josh could tell that he meant a lot to her. They hugged for a long time as the colonel whispered gently into her hair. ‘I’ll be back soon,’
He turned to Josh when she finally let go of him. ‘Walk with me.’
Josh followed the colonel out into the hall.
‘There’s a good chance I may not be back for a while. These are good people; they’re family. Try to stay out of trouble and listen to Methuselah.’
‘Can I still visit my mother?’ Josh asked.
‘Of course,’ he said, patting Josh on the shoulder. ‘It’s not a prison. You can come and go as you please. Arcadin knows you now.’
29
Chapter House
Sim had volunteered to show Josh to his room. Navigating the Chapter House was like walking through a maze without a map: corridors and doors led off in all directions, making the interior of the house far greater than it appeared from the outside.
Their quarters, as Sim called them, were situated at the top of the house and involved climbing endless flights of stairs. Sim told him there was a quicker way, and that he would show him once he was ‘orientated’.
Josh was breathing hard by the time they reached their floor. Each storey of the building looked like it was from an entirely different period: the decor moved from Baroque to Victorian to modern. It was like climbing through an architectural journal.
The rooms were larger than he expected. They each had a bedroom with an en-suite bathroom and there was a communal space that Sim had filled with all sorts of cool gadgets: an Xbox One, a PlayStation 4, a huge flat-screen TV and a very powerful-looking PC with a strange pair of goggles — Sim called it a ‘VR headset’. It felt weird to be back in a room that resembled present day — albeit far from the world that he knew. He had to keep reminding himself that he hadn’t broken into the house of some rich kid, that he was actually a part of this.
Sim had booted the PC and was babbling on about some game or other than he had just completed. He was proudly showing how he’d found all the collectables and gained a very rare sword, but all Josh could do was wonder how the hell he’d got to this house and how long it would last. He couldn’t believe that these guys were seriously suggesting he could join them — that they wanted him to be part of their Order.
As Sim launched a driving game, Josh tried to explain to him that he had never really got on with computers. Sim dismissed his objections with a comment about ‘holocronic flux interference’, sat him down and placed the VR headset over his head.
Josh found himself in a Ford Mustang on the start line of an indie car race. The revving of the engines of the other cars buzzed in his headphones, and he found himself looking round a completely 360º environment. He felt Sim slide some pedals under his feet and a steering wheel in his hands just as the lights turned green.
Ten minutes later Josh was an indie champion. He took off the headset, and grinned at Sim. ‘That’s insane!’ he exclaimed.
‘Yeah, and you’
re really good at it!’ agreed Sim. ‘No one else wants to play video games here. They are all far too serious.’
‘No shit. What’s this thing called?’
‘Oculus Rift,’ Sim replied, taking the headset back. ‘Want to try something else? Portal is mental on this!’
Josh shook his head. ‘No. It makes me feel a bit sick.’
‘That’s motion sickness — your brain can’t work out why your eyes are telling it you’re moving when your inner ear says you’re not.’
Josh spun round in the chair. ‘So which is my room?’
Sim took him down a short corridor to a bedroom stylishly furnished with a bed, TV, walk-in wardrobe and bathroom. Josh had never seen a rainfall shower, let alone a bidet. But for him the most impressive feature by far was the glass wall that framed the most incredible view of London. He could see the River Thames, but it took him a while to work out where they were.
‘This is a penthouse suite in Chelsea. You like it?’ Sim asked. ‘Dad added it when the chance of you showing up spiked.’
‘You knew I was coming?’
Sim glowed. ‘I was the closest by two hours. Don’t be offended — it’s what we do.’
Josh found it a bit creepy that they were planning out his life.
‘We can change it if you don’t approve?’
‘No, it’s great,’ said Josh. ‘I like his style. But doesn’t someone own it? Won’t they, like, come back and wonder why I’m here?’
Sim suppressed a chuckle. ‘There are a few things you need to understand about chronostasis before my explanation would make any sense.’ He held his hand up as Josh began to protest. ‘I’m not saying you’re stupid — it’s just temporal mechanics is not one of the colonel’s specialities, so I’m guessing he hasn’t really taught you much about the science behind our abilities?’
‘No. He’s more of a doer than a thinker,’ Josh agreed.
‘OK. Think of it like this is all frozen in time like a photograph, on a kind of loop. No one but us can interact with it, although obviously in other parts of its timeline it continues to function as normal. I can draw you a diagram if it helps.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’
‘OK. So do you want to change out of those robes?’ Sim asked, pointing to a mirrored wall. ‘There are some new clothes in your cupboard. If you don’t like them, we can ask the Antiquarians to send something else. They can do it retrospectively so it takes no time at all.’
Sim closed the door behind him as he left. Josh went to the wardrobe door and slid it aside. He smiled to himself as he looked at the rails of classic brands: Burberry, Abercrombie & Fitch, Ralph Lauren and many, many more — compared to the colonel their fashion sense was at least in the same decade.
He spent the next hour or so trying on various outfits until he found the right combination of understated cool, and then lay back on the bed and laughed. He tried not to do it too loudly, but it was unstoppable. Something inside him couldn’t stop thinking how insanely ridiculous the whole situation was, that nothing in his wildest dreams had ever come close to this: hanging out in a Chelsea flat wearing Issey Miyake with a bunch of geeks that could travel through time.
Josh seriously considered whether he might be in some kind of coma and this was just all some drug-induced hallucination. It was unlikely; he couldn’t have made this kind of stuff up — not in a million years. He wondered what his mum would say if she could see him now. If he told her about it, she’d never believe him, and if she didn’t there wasn’t a chance in hell anyone else would.
Just have to go with the flow, he thought. The colonel’s away for a few days, Mum’s in care for at least another week and Lenin is off his back till Saturday, so just sit back, relax and enjoy the ride.
There was a knock at the door.
Josh sat up, conscious that his laughter may have been a bit too loud.
‘Hello?’ Caitlin’s voice came through the door. ‘Josh. It’s Caitlin. Can I come in?’
His heart skipped a beat.
‘Yeah, one second,’ he said, getting up and checking himself in the mirror before opening the door.
‘I’ve been instructed to look after you,’ she said with a look of grim defiance.
‘It’s OK. Sim can do it if you don’t want to,’ Josh replied, trying to sound disaffected.
She chewed her lip as though she was holding something back — he didn’t like the way she kept avoiding looking him in the eyes.
‘I have to give you the tour,’ she insisted after an awkward silence. ‘Sim has work to do. Come on.’
He went to follow her, but she raised a hand to stop him. ‘I suggest you put your robes back on.’
As they made their way up another set of stairs, the silence between them was deafening. For the first time in his life, Josh was at a loss as to how to start a conversation. He watched Caitlin’s long hair sway as she walked up the steps ahead of him and tried to find the right word for the colour: auburn, brunette — it was a kind of gingery-brown, not a term you could use about a girl’s hair without getting a slap.
Caitlin stopped on the next landing. There were numerous corridors leading off from it, each one reminiscent of a museum with glass cases running down each wall.
‘There are currently fifteen storeys attached to this house; each floor is based in a different era, except this one. These are our collections,’ she started to say. ‘We use them for —’
‘Your mementoes — the colonel has one just like it,’ he interrupted, a little too eagerly — he was still trying to impress her.
She crossed her arms and glared at him. ‘Do you want the tour or not?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Stop interrupting, then,’ she snapped as she turned away. ‘Bloody think you know everything.’
Halfway along a corridor of some of the strangest artefacts he’d ever seen, they came to a brass spiral staircase.
‘Roof garden,’ she said coldly, ringing a small bell that hung on the railings.
Nothing seemed to happen, but after a minute of waiting another bell sounded from somewhere above them. Caitlin strode up the stairs two steps at a time and Josh followed until they came up into what appeared to be a jungle.
The garden was warm and tropical, and full of large, Jurassic Park-looking plants. It was enclosed under an elegant glass and metal dome on the roof that reminded Josh of Kew Gardens; colourful birds flew in slow circles above the large ferns and butterflies flocked around the exotic hothouse flowers.
‘This is my stepmother’s herbarium, or aviary — basically, it’s a botanical garden. She studies extinct species of flora.’
‘Extinct?’
‘Yes, like, dead forever. She’s cultivating plants and birds that were wiped out years ago.’
Josh walked a little way into the garden, and felt a warm mist wet his face. The humidity was extremely high, making his clothes stick to his skin.
‘How long ago?’
‘Oh, a hundred thousand years or more, back into the last Ice Age.’
At least she was talking now, he thought, not shouting or telling him off — this was progress.
‘How far can you go back?’
Caitlin expression changed at the question — she was obviously proud of her abilities.
‘To the end of the Quartarian period, about ten thousand years. That makes me a Tenth Millennial.’
Josh tried to look impressed, although he had no idea whether that was good or not. ‘I’ve only been back a couple of hundred so far.’
‘Then you’re just a Second-level Centurial,’ she said in a tone that emphasised that he was weaker than her.
‘So what’s the furthest anyone has gone back?’
A flicker of anguish crossed her face, but she quickly masked it. It was enough to make him wish he’d never asked; everything had been going quite well up until that point.
‘No one can go back beyond the last Ice Age, twelve thousand years ago,’ she said through t
ight lips, and turned away.
As they wandered through the garden, Caitlin pointed out various species of birds, ferns and trees that had been saved by her stepmother. Beneath the centre of the dome they found Alixia de Freis repotting a row of small cuttings into large ceramic jars; she looked like a Victorian beekeeper with her long leather gloves and large netted hat. There was another small bell next to her on the table.
‘Don’t come any closer,’ Alixia ordered sharply without looking up from her work. ‘This is Verbasium noctorfloris, probably the deadliest flower that ever existed.’
Josh took a little more interest in the delicate purple lily that Alixia was carefully extracting from its old container. He watched the vine-like tendrils unfurl and wrap themselves round her arm as she transplanted it into its new home. The vines reluctantly released their hold as she carefully poured what looked like blood into the soil around its roots. She placed a large glass jar over the plant and stuck a label with a large skull and crossbones on it.
‘There now. Much better,’ she said, rolling back the netting of her hat. Alixia patted the glass as if the plant were a pet. ‘The extraneous feeler roots contain a deadly neurotoxin that can bring down a wild ox, let alone a human. They were the carrion eaters of the Pliocene,’ she added as she removed her long leather gloves and held out one delicate little hand. ‘How do you do, by the way? I don’t think we were ever formally introduced. I am Alixia De Freis.’
Josh took her hand carefully. It was thin and cold, as if she were made from very fine china.
‘Josh. Joshua Jones, I’m —’
‘He’s Uncle Rufius’s new protégé,’ Caitlin interrupted in a sardonic tone, making ‘protégé’ sound like a curse.
‘I know, dear,’ her stepmother said calmly. ‘I wasn’t totally distracted at lunch. You are the one that completed the challenge in Paris.’ The way she pronounced Paris hinted at her European upbringing, as a Frenchwoman would, not pronouncing the final ‘s’.
‘Yes, I was. But I don’t know what all the fuss is about. It was easy.’
‘Ha,’ Alixia scoffed, ‘you are too modest. Two candidates died trying to solve that particular conundrum and many others have failed entirely.’
The Infinity Engines Books 1-3 Page 17