by Jenn Lees
“It’s 6:02, Rory—”
A cry came from the Time Machine. Siobhan appeared in the cubicle and tumbled out. Rory reached forward to grab her and he staggered back with the force of Siobhan’s exit. Holding Siobhan in his embrace, he sat down with a thud on the cold concrete floor. Dirt covered her clothes and fine particles dusted her loose hair and her face.
“Rory!” she cried, holding him tight.
“It’s okay, Siobhan, you’re back now.” Rory glared up at Murray who stood motionless before them.
“When did you go to, Siobhan?” Murray held his hands out to help her up; dropping them when he saw Rory’s glower. “She’s back, Rory. Don’t be mad at me.”
“It’s not Murray’s fault, Rory. I stepped into the machine at the wrong moment.” Siobhan’s sapphire-blue eyes locked with his, then they filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks, leaving tracks in the grime.
“What happened, Siobhan? Why are you a mess? Is that ma shirt?” Rory eased her back from himself. “Tell us what happened back there? Did you return to when the terrorists bombed the cities?”
She shook her head, her eyes still held his. “I went to the future.”
“What?” Murray gasped. “How?”
Siobhan shrugged. “I don’t know...It wasn’t nice.”
“You time travelled to the future without electrical power.” Murray suppressed a shout. “Just like Brendan travelled to the past without a time machine.” Murray’s eyes darted from Siobhan, to the Time Machine, to gazing at nothing. Then they opened wide. “Man,” he whispered. “I’m right! The machine needs energy, but it must be on a Ley line!”
“Och, please explain,” Rory asked. “You ken I’m nae scientific.”
“I’m scientific and he’s speaking gibberish to me,” Siobhan spoke close to his face.
“The Ley line is the power-time conduit,” Murray continued his whisper. “The power can be either electricity—and that’s why this time travel device doesn’t require as much energy as the scientists of the twentieth century thought—or the natural energies of the Earth. Like at an equinox or a solstice. When, like in Brendan’s case, you don’t even need a time machine.”
Siobhan’s eyes opened wide with comprehension, then faltered a fraction. “But why wouldn’t it work when you tried here with electricity?”
“Arthur’s Seat is special,” Murray answered. “It’s the convergence and origin of a number of Ley lines. So...maybe it rejects power from outside of it, and only works with its own natural source.”
“Why did it work for us with electricity when you and I, and even dad, went to the past,” Rory asked, “but didn’t need any for Brendan?”
“Invercharing sits on a single Ley line.” Murray lifted a shoulder. “Maybe it uses the Earth’s power at solstices and such but needs another power source the rest of the time.”
Rory opened his mouth to speak just as someone pounded on the door.
“Hello? Have you found Ms Kensington-Wallace?”
“That’s Louise. She can’t see me like this.” Siobhan stood. “No one can see me in this dirty state!” She faced the door. “Louise, I’m fine.” Siobhan spoke in her usual authoritative voice, so different from the husky, scared tones of her immediate return. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“We need to get you to your room without being seen,” Murray said to her.
“You’ve said something similar to me already today, Murray.”
Rory helped Siobhan up from the concrete floor and stood close to her.
“So good to see you, husband. You look great.” She kissed his lips and he slid his arms around her waist and returned it.
“Ah, we’d better get her cleaned up soon,” Murray suggested. “Rory?”
Rory released his mouth from her intense kiss. “Aye,” he said, not taking his eyes from hers.
“I can’t go out covered in debris.” She let go of him and brushed the dust out of her hair with her fingers then wiped the dirt off her face. “We just don’t get this dirty in the Bunker.”
“Here.” Rory removed his jacket and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” A shy half-smile emerged on her lips as she put his jacket over her shoulders. “Oh!” She looked down at her cargo pants and patted the dust off them.
“Siobhan?” Louise called through the door again.
“No one must find out you have time-travelled,” Rory spoke in quiet but firm tones, eyeing first Siobhan then Murray. They both nodded.
“I’m fine, Louise.” Siobhan tried the door.
“Here,” Murray spoke low. “I locked it.” He slid his gaze from Siobhan to Rory, then unlocked and opened the door.
“I’ve been with Murray,” Siobhan said.
Louise stood in the doorway frowning. “All day?”
“Yes, it’s been fascinating,” she said. “But my husband is here now,” she spoke through a grin, “and we’ll have some dinner.”
Siobhan flicked an affectionate look to Rory and then brushed past Louise, who squinted at his jacket draped over Siobhan’s shoulders. Siobhan led them up five flights of stairs. Rory followed her every step. Siobhan’s hips swayed beneath his oversized jacket and her long honey-blonde hair flowed down her shoulders and back.
Not in its usual French roll?
Rory stared at Siobhan’s hair all the way to her quarters. His questions about her dishevelled state could wait. The long pale corridor narrowed to smaller hallways, one of which Siobhan led them down to a row of white doors opposite a kitchen area where Xian leaned against a bench. Henderson stood opposite him with his GPMG hung over his shoulder, his thumb tucked in its strap. The aroma of warming food, possibly chicken, hit Rory’s nostrils. Seconds later his stomach growled, accentuating the pain of its emptiness.
“Henderson! Why on Earth are you guarding Xian?” Siobhan was dwarfed by Rory’s jacket as she put her hand on her hip. “You may go.”
“PM’s orders, Ms Kensington-Wallace.” Henderson snapped to attention.
“My name is Mrs Campbell, and you will leave right now.” Siobhan held his stare.
Henderson’s eyes flitted from Siobhan to Rory to Xian, then hesitated.
“I’ve been armed all this time and I haven’t drawn my sword.” Xian pointed to the handle of his Katana. “I won’t attack anyone.”
“Please, Iain, be sensible.” Siobhan’s tone softened a wee bit. “These men, one of whom is my husband, are not dangerous. You are dismissed. Thank you.”
Henderson trudged out, his military stance slumping a fraction.
“Sensible lad,” Rory watched the soldier walk away.
“Food,” Xian said.
“Aye,” Rory responded then turned to Siobhan. “Have you eaten today?”
Siobhan shook her head. “I need a shower more than food. But you eat.” She walked down the short corridor to a room and Rory followed her in. It had a bed and a wardrobe but was otherwise bare apart from boxes stacked by a desk. Siobhan stood in front of a dresser, her face beaming. He pulled her close and kissed her, savouring the warmth of her lips. She tasted of dust.
“Be packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice,” he whispered when he lifted his mouth from hers.
She blinked. “Okay.” Her voice was soft velvet.
Oh man, he wanted to take her to bed right here and now.
But Murray and Xian waited in the kitchen, and he was sure the Government monitored every inch of this place. Maybe he was just being paranoid.
“You eat. I’ll shower. Then we’ll talk.” She slid out of his embrace and walked through the door. He followed her as far as the kitchen. Their guard was back.
“Henderson!”
“Ms K—Mrs Campbell, it’s the PM’s orders, ma’am.” Henderson swallowed.
“Well, you’re not eating our dinner,” Murray said, serving casserole onto four plates lined up on the bench.
Siobhan walked the other way along the corridor.
“Here, Rory.” X
ian nudged him with a plate of food. “Eat.”
Rory tore his vision from Siobhan’s retreating back.
They sat down at the table in the kitchen area. The chicken had an odd taste about it. Chemical preservatives, Xian had said. Siobhan returned before they’d finished their second helpings. She wore a clean skirt and blouse, and a towel wrapped round her wet hair. The perfume of flowers filled the kitchen area.
“Henderson. Make yourself useful and find some clean clothes for these men who have travelled all the way from the Highlands. They’ll need them once they’ve showered,” Siobhan ordered.
Murray chewed his lips, repressing a grin while Henderson stomped off once more.
“Love the way she does that.” Rory’s chest heated, and other parts were heating too.
A shower was definitely on the agenda, along with removing his wife from this place as soon as he was able.
Chapter 13
Scottish Government Bunker, Edinburgh, 2061
Next to Rory at the kitchen table, Siobhan ate her dinner at last. Murray washed the dirty dishes and cooking utensils while Xian wiped them dry, and Murray’s young voice drifted over as he directed the older man to the cupboards in which the utensils belonged.
Siobhan’s cheeks glowed fresh, and she’d tucked her hair in its usual roll at the back of her head, exposing the soft line of her neck. Rory suppressed a groan. How he’d love to take his time loosening that hair. But they had to get out of here, and she was coming with them.
“We’ll go soon,” he whispered into her ear. The perfume that was unmistakably her, filled his nostrils—filled his mind. “We’ll get some sleep first, aye?”
Siobhan’s chewing stopped, then she blinked.
“Rory, there’s not much privacy here,” she whispered back.
He raised his eyebrows. Murray’s directions to Xian filled the kitchen space.
“There’s something I need to do,” her whispering continued.
“Aye, lass, there’s something we need to do.” He curled a brow.
Siobhan squeezed her mouth, suppressing a smile.
“What?” he asked.
“We’ve already done that today...several times.” A grin burst through.
“What!” Rory sat straighter. “When—?”
Siobhan’s finger to his mouth stopped him short. Murray and Xian paused in their post meal task. The clatter of dishes and clanking of cooking pots soon resumed.
She leaned in closer to Rory, her deep-blue eyes like midnight in the dim LED.
“There are some things I must research in our archives before we leave. It’s vital information.”
Rory held back all the questions he could ask her about the future. None would pass his lips while they were in this place.
The click of heels on the concrete floor rang along the corridor and Siobhan spun in her chair.
“Hi, Louise.” Siobhan placed her unfinished plate of chicken casserole on the table.
“I just wanted you to know the PM’s on her way.” Louise looked straight at Siobhan, avoiding Rory’s stare, her mouth skewed to the side.
Bethany marched in their direction with two armed soldiers either side of her. Dark hair, dark suit, and a dark expression. Louise sidled to stand beside Siobhan at the kitchen table. Siobhan stood and Rory followed her lead.
“Siobhan,” Bethany spoke to Siobhan, passing her vision over Rory. “I hope your guests will be comfortable. Louise has arranged rooms nearby for their use.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister. I was hoping to show my husband around. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, but only in the general access areas,” Bethany clipped her reply and straightened her shoulders.
“Certainly.” Siobhan sounded defensive. “I mainly wanted to show him our extensive archives.”
“Oh, very good.” Bethany’s straight back relaxed its rigid posture.
“Must an armed guard escort us?” Siobhan slipped her hand into Rory’s, flicking her gaze to Henderson for a second. “We’re entirely safe, I assure you.”
Bethany’s stare lingered on their clasped hands.
“You know I am here in friendship,” Rory said. “I just want to be with my wife, Prime Minister. I’m nae going to start a revolution. In fact, I want the opposite. I, and my people, are for Scotland, not against her.”
Bethany flicked her head and brushed away an imaginary hair from her perfectly neat hairdo. “Well, maybe you and I can have some discussion while you are here, Mr Campbell?”
“I’d like that, Prime Minister. Very much.” Rory forced a smile, endeavouring to make the diplomatic expression touch his eyes.
Bethany turned to leave.
“Henderson can go then?” Siobhan said to Bethany’s back.
The Prime Minister of Scotland nodded to Henderson standing at attention by the kitchen bench, watching the post meal tidy-up. He narrowed his gaze at Xian and then strode out behind Bethany and the others. Louise’s mouth drew in at the corner as she bobbed her head to Siobhan and followed the PM and her guard.
“Man, she needs to get laid or something,” Xian said.
“I think the something’s more likely,” Rory said under his breath.
“Hmm.” Siobhan’s brow crinkled in the middle. “She’s being a bit heavy-handed.”
“A bit?”
“Where are the children?” Xian said, as though the thought had just occurred to him. “I haven’t seen any.” He fiddled with the tea towel.
“With their parents,” Siobhan scraped the remains of her unfinished meal into the bin then slipped the plate into the sink. “This is the singles’ quarters.”
“Where do they get to run around?” Xian looked past the kitchen.
“In their play area,” Siobhan answered.
“There aren’t many kids.” Murray stopped wiping the benches with a wet cloth and scowled at Siobhan’s dirty plate in the sink. “At least, I’ve never seen more than a small group of children at a time. It’s like they don’t believe in them.”
“Let’s go,” Siobhan clasped Rory’s hand and tugged him out of the kitchen.
“Can I come?” Murray asked from the sink.
“Of course,” Siobhan spoke over her shoulder.
“Where’re we going?” Xian followed them along the corridor.
“You’ll love this place,” Murray stepped in behind them. “Full o’ stuff from every decade going right back to the 1800s, in an orderly fashion. And things, not so organised, from every time else. Plus, the stuff they rescued from libraries and museums. There’s even a mummy.”
Siobhan marched them to a main corridor and led them to two silver shiny doors where a guard stood. Siobhan pushed a button and smiled at Rory as the double doors slid apart to reveal a small room. Rory took a step back.
“You’ve never seen a lift before?” Siobhan’s expression was a mixture of disbelief and amusement.
Rory shook his head.
“Wow,” Xian said behind him.
“Come in.” She pulled Rory into the box-like place, and Xian and Murray followed.
“What happens now?” he asked.
The doors closed with a clunk then Siobhan pressed one of the many buttons on the wall beside the door.
The floor moved. No, the whole box moved. Then Rory’s feet and head gave him the sensation of falling. He grabbed the rail.
“It’s okay, Rory, we’re going down.” Siobhan stepped close to him, put her arms around his waist, and pressed her body against his.
“You’ve never been in a lift?” Xian asked. “I have, as a very young child. It’s fun, yeah?”
“No.” Rory’s stomach moved up inside him.
“We’re here,” Murray said. “Almost at the bottom of the Bunker.” His eyes were wide, and he bounced when the lift came to a halt. “They’ve got very early model computers too.”
“We’re going this way.” Siobhan released her hold on Rory as the doors slid open and he hurried out. Siobhan walked ou
t of the lift, crooking a finger at Murray. “I need your research skills.”
“What are we—?” Murray began.
A finger over Siobhan’s lips silenced everyone.
They followed her down a short passage. To the left was an entry and a sign stating Archives sat above the double doorway. Rory glanced in. Sections headed 1900s, 1910s and so on, flowed down the long narrow corridor. Siobhan led them to their right, to an atrium that opened to an enormous area with high ceilings. Bookshelves lined the walls, and ladders reached to the very top of them. More rows of tall, double-sided bookshelves filled the rest of this room except for where glass cases held objects.
“See? I told ya.” Murray pointed to a large case as they marched past. “A mummy.”
“Come on, Murray,” Siobhan called and then whispered, “we’re going to the Geological History area.”
After passing through a few rooms identical to the first one, Siobhan turned down a brief corridor to an area with computers on desks, bookshelves, rock samples in glass-topped display cabinets, and a large table with a stack of paper in the centre.
“Rocks?” Xian asked. “We’re looking at dirt?”
Siobhan strode to the table where a thick wad of smooth, shiny paper sat next to some pencils, and sat down to write. Murray sat on a chair by a computer and turned it on.
“What are we looking for, Siobhan?” Murray twisted in his chair to face her.
Siobhan glared at him and waved the pencil in her hand, then pointed for them to read what she’d written, again placing a finger against her mouth.
Rory leaned over her shoulder and read.
Sorry, guys, especially Murray, but we can’t use the computer. They may check the search history and wonder what we’re up to. So, it’s the good old-fashioned way. Please look for anything on large volcanic eruptions that have affected the weather and climate adversely.
Murray stood up from the computer chair and moaned, then strolled over to the table and read—then groaned. Xian frowned, biting his lower lip, then walked to the nearest bookshelf and started looking at the titles on the spines of the books.
Something tugged at Rory’s mind. A flash of a dimmed sky flitted through his thoughts. He took the pencil from Siobhan.