Restoring Time

by Jenn Lees

  What happens in the future? A volcanic eruption? Is that why you came back a mess?

  Siobhan picked up another pencil from the holder on the table and wrote:

  Yes and no. Things happen because of a volcanic explosion, but I won’t discuss it here. When we get home, we’ll talk. But I need to gather all the information I can while we have access to this library.

  Siobhan had written when we get home. Warmth swelled within Rory and the corner of his mouth tightened. Man, he wanted her home, but standing here staring at those beautiful eyes wouldn’t get them there. He tossed the pencil on the table and wandered to the bookshelves. He ran fingers down the smooth spines of the volumes on a few rows until he came to the same place where Xian now stood reading a book. Xian pointed his chin at the shelf at waist-height. Rory leaned down and read the titles.

  Aye, the volcano shelf.

  Chapter 14

  Scottish Government Bunker, Edinburgh, 2061

  Rory’s eyes were dry and gritty, and the night had passed with each of them presenting information to Siobhan, but she was not pleased with any of it. His back ached and the air was stale—not a fresh breeze had stirred, and there was a dull continual hum.

  “What are you look—?”

  Siobhan interrupted Rory with a violent shake of her head.

  Rory put down the textbook he’d shown her and scribbled a big question mark in the middle of the piece of paper on the large table.

  Siobhan expelled a loud sigh and reached for the corner of the page, then wrote. Rory and the others bent down to read.

  Volcanic eruption—northern hemisphere covered in ash—poor sunlight—harvests fail.

  She grabbed the eraser and scrubbed out her writing.

  Rory did a double take. He’d seen this. His most recent vision—a walk through scraggly crops. He found it hard to inhale, and not just because of the recycled air.

  So, it was a true vision.

  “Ahh—” Murray held up a finger. “Dendrochronology.”

  “Shh!” Rory chorused with Siobhan.

  Murray spread his hands. “What? They’re not gonna know—”

  “Shh!” Siobhan hissed, then pointed to the shelves of books.

  Murray thrust his index finger at the nearest computer.

  She glared a no.

  Murray wrote next to the large question mark on the sheet of paper:

  Do you want to know or not? I could spend hours looking up what I’m thinking might be the answer, or I could search it on the Government’s extensive database on that computer and have your answer in seconds.

  Siobhan’s shoulders sank a little, then she gave the slightest nod.

  “Yes!” Murray hissed then ran over to the computer and clicked the keyboard.

  Rory left the table to stand behind Murray and peered over his shoulder; Siobhan and Xian joined him. Murray’s fingers flew across the keys, the unfamiliar clicking jarring to Rory’s ears. Pictures of trees cut through to expose their growth rings flicked on the screen. Murray turned to Siobhan, pointed at the screen then stepped away from the computer desk, offering her the chair. She grabbed a piece of paper from the table and, returning to the computer, wrote for at least twenty minutes. Rory wandered over to the table and thumbed through each piece of thin manufactured paper, which was nothing like the chunky pieces they made at the Community. He removed any sheets on which they’d written, or that had impressions left from writing on the pages above and, after tearing them into tiny pieces, dropped them into the nearest bin.

  Rory folded his arms in front of him. So, a volcano had caused a disaster in the future.

  Cold, like the deep, dark water of Loch Ness, collected in his gut. He needed more details. How could they plan for this? Everyone should be informed to prepare for such an event, but telling the Scottish Government was out.

  Siobhan scooted her chair back and stood, turning both hands in a thumbs-up sign.

  She pointed to Murray, then the computer and mouthed, Delete the search history.

  Rory stepped over to Siobhan, slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to himself.

  “You understand we can’t speak of it while we are here.” Siobhan’s whisper was as quiet as a moor at midnight. “If we’re overheard, it may be misconstrued, and I’d never be able to explain myself fully without...exposing you know what.” She mouthed her last words.

  “We can go now, aye?” His voice was just as quiet.

  She touched her warm cheek against his, as soft as thistledown. “Yes, but we must leave on good terms,” she whispered. “And have a conversation with Bethany promising we’ll speak to all the various groups and Communities in Scotland, encouraging them to co-operate with the Scottish Government. We’ll be ambassadors for peace and communication. Please be on your best behaviour and don’t antagonise the woman like you did on your arrival.”

  Rory pulled back; his forehead tight in a frown. “How do you ken what my meeting with Bethany was like?”

  “You told me.” Her mouth clamped, unsuccessfully preventing a grin.

  He blinked.

  Och, I have to find out what I did with her in the future.

  They walked in silence back through the archives and into the lift. This time, Rory’s feet pressed into the floor of the lift, and his head and arms dragged down. He clutched the rail. Siobhan took his other hand; her lips curving at the corners.

  “It’s sweet.” Her eyes twinkled.

  “What is?” The doors slid open and Rory’s stomach wasn’t sure whether to go up or down.

  “Big strong man, scared of tiny lift.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  Siobhan stayed by his side when he flew out of the lift, then they walked to her room. The aroma of fried bacon wafted down the hall toward them.

  “Breakfast?” Xian yawned. “What time is it?”

  “Time to eat and go,” Rory spoke low as they approached the kitchen.

  “Oh, good morning.” Louise stood at the cooker, bacon sizzling, and eggs popping in the fat. “You must have enjoyed your tour of the archives. I was getting worried.”

  “It was fascinating,’ Xian said. “We got lost among all that knowledge.”

  “Is it too early to meet with the PM?” Rory asked.

  “No, I can book it soon.” Siobhan took the plates of fried breakfast Louise handed to her. “Thank you, Louise.” She placed them on the table indicating for Rory and Xian to sit and eat.

  “She’s free this morning. Or she’ll make herself free.” Louise dished up the rest of the bacon and eggs and placed more into the hot pan. “It’s not every day she gets to speak with one of the important leaders in Scotland.”

  Rory sat at the table and swallowed. She was talking about him. He would be at his best today and politely ask for permission to leave with Siobhan. It worked with Lloyd, surely it would work on Bethany-stuck-up-Watts.

  “Rory?” His elder sister’s voice, accompanied by brisk footsteps, came from behind him. Angela stopped and hovered by the table.

  Rory stabbed the fried egg on his plate. The runny yolk oozed out its yellow and spread through his breakfast. He stood.

  “Angela, lovely to see you. How are you?” Rory offered her a kiss on the cheek.

  “What are you doing here?” Angela turned her face away.

  His lips met air.

  “I’m here to collect my wife and return home with her.” Rory stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You’ll not be taking the Time Machine. I know that in some deluded way you believe you have a right to it.” Angela’s hand flew to her hip. “They won’t let you.”

  “Who said anything about the Time Machine?” Murray said from where he sat at the table.

  Louise had placed a fresh plate of fried eggs and bacon in front of him, and beside him Xian sat motionless.

  “It doesn’t work anyway,” Rory said low and firm. “So what use is it here?”

  “If it’s not working, why ta
ke it back?” Angela’s bright red hair had a glow of its own under the LED.

  “Because it belongs to us, not the Government.” Rory leaned into his sister, clenching his fists tucked under his armpits.

  “Have you got it to work?” Angela asked Murray.

  Murray coughed around bacon, then swallowed. “No.” He stared at his plate.

  Angela’s eyes narrowed. “They’ll no’ let Murray go.” There was victory in her voice.

  Rory squinted.

  “Ah, I don’t want to leave, Rory. Sorry.” Murray made a tight smile. “Computers and all that. Is that okay?”

  “For the moment,” Rory answered.

  “It’s not up to you. You’re not the boss around here.” Angela’s hand on her hip curled into a fist.

  “I’m well aware of that, sister. I have to ask permission to take my wife home.”

  And that still smarts.

  “Isn’t it a nice surprise to see your brother, Angela?” Siobhan asked.

  Always the diplomat. Rory took a deep breath.

  Angela’s head twitched. It could have been an acknowledgement. Rory accepted it as such.

  “Well, I’ll be on my way then. Plenty to do and learn here where true government takes place.” Angela flicked her hair over her shoulder, then spun and walked along the corridor, her brisk tread not slowing until she turned into the stairwell and was gone.

  Chapter 15

  Scottish Government Bunker, Edinburgh, 2061

  Breakfast was over and Siobhan leaned against the kitchen bench.

  “Xian, find out where the horses are and see if they’re okay.” Rory stepped closer to his friend and whispered, “Get ‘em ready to leave, aye?”

  Xian jolted a short nod.

  Siobhan warmed at the closeness between Rory and his crew. On their journey to Loch Ewe and back they were faithful and loyal, and seemed like they’d do anything for him. And not just for their Community, because here was Xian, in a potentially hostile situation, helping Rory bring her home.

  “We’d better get to the PM. She doesn’t like tardiness.” Siobhan took Rory’s hand. Dark shadows sat beneath his eyes. He’d journeyed a week to be here, yet he was determined they’d leave today, if they could. Siobhan would do everything possible to make sure it happened.

  BETHANY’S SECRETARY was at her desk and Iain Henderson stood by the door to the PM’s office. Iain was a good man and his sticking to orders the previous evening hadn’t surprised Siobhan, just irritated.

  “Iain, the Prime Minister is expecting us.” Siobhan smoothed her cargo pants as he opened the door.

  Bethany sat in the high-backed desk chair that always dwarfed her. She was writing vigorously on the paper on her desk. The dark-rimmed spectacles resting on the tip of her nose made her appear the intelligent woman she was.

  “Good morning, Prime Minister.” Siobhan walked in with Rory a pace behind.

  Bethany lifted her attention from her paperwork. “I hear you’ve spent the night in our archives.”

  “Aye,” Rory moved to stand beside Siobhan, taking her hand in his. “What you dinnae have in there is nae worth the knowing, I expect.”

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” Bethany leaned back into her chair and pierced her gaze at Siobhan.

  “We weren’t looking for anything in particular. Our guests found it enthralling, and we lost track of time.”

  Bethany stood and walked to the front of her desk. “What can I do for you?”

  “Prime Minister,” Rory spoke in calm tones, “I wish to leave today and take my wife with me.” Moisture from Rory’s hand pressed onto Siobhan’s.

  Bethany looked from Rory to Siobhan, her expression hard. Despite growing up with the woman, Siobhan found her just as hard to read.

  Please, say yes. She wasn’t sure what her new husband would do if Bethany said no.

  Siobhan’s pulse thudding in her head drowned out the strained silence in the office as she stared at the mini saltire flag badge in the lapel of Bethany’s neatly pressed suit.

  “I don’t like unpleasantness. I try to avoid it at all costs,” Bethany broke the silence. “Mr Campbell rightly pointed out that no one is indispensable, and you have trained Louise well, Siobhan.” Bethany paused, so Siobhan dared to look her in the eye. “With reluctance, I’m giving permission.”

  “Thank you, Prime Minister.” Siobhan stood taller, the tension easing in her neck. Rory gave a brief squeeze to her hand clasped in his. “Rory and I will do the Government proud as we liaise with the groups out there. We’ll report back to you regularly. We shall go as soon as I’m packed—”

  Bethany held up her hand. “As most of your possessions belong to the Scottish Government, you can take what you can carry, nothing more.” She gestured to Rory. “Mr Campbell, your brother and the Time Machine, despite its non-functioning status, will remain here.”

  Rory’s hand tightened around hers. Siobhan flicked her gaze up to him; the muscles in his jaw tensed, then Rory made a sharp nod.

  “Well, I’d better pack. Goodbye, Bethany.” Siobhan stepped forward and gave Bethany a hug, which she returned with coolness. Siobhan walked out of the room with Rory, a dull ache within her at the confirmation of a lifelong friend’s withdrawal of affection.

  “AND THOSE BAGS THERE.” Siobhan pointed to the blue bags by her dresser.

  “It’s what you can carry, not what every man travelling with you plus the horses can carry.” Rory had tucked a bag under each arm and held one in each hand.

  “Rory, they’re my things. My father’s things. Not the Scottish Government’s. They’re all I have left of him.” She stifled a choke in her throat.

  Rory returned the bags to the floor, then put his arms around her.

  “I ken this is a considerable move for you, Siobhan. I cannae tell you how much it means to me that you will leave everything for me.” He spoke into her hair, his warmth surrounding her, chasing away the niggle of doubt threatening to creep in. “I’m humbled”—he swallowed— “you feel this way about me. That you trust me with yourself and your future. I promise I’ll keep you safe and you’ll no’ regret it.”

  Rory’s deep voice rumbled through his warm chest. The choke eased coinciding with her welling feelings for Rory. She clung to him; her arms wrapped around his solid waist.

  How much of the future should she tell him? Could she speak of her death? He’d probably insist she stay safe in the Bunker with its superior medical care. But Rory could never live here, he would not survive. Where would that leave them? Not living a married life, that’s for sure. A shudder ran through her at the recollection of a broken Rory weeping into her neck. She wouldn’t do it to Rory—couldn’t let him get like that. If she told him she’d died in the future she went to, he’d try to fix it. But who can fix death?

  He need not know at all. He would have enough on his mind with a famine and a civil war to prevent.

  She’d snuck away during the night, feigning the need for the ladies’ room. The medical section of the archives wasn’t far from the public toilets. She’d found an obstetrics book published in 2011 and written down all she could about placenta previa.

  She would go to the Bunker when she was pregnant with their second child. That was her plan—and it would work.

  “You all right, Siobhan?” Rory loosened his hold on her. “Can you finish packing now?”

  “Yes,” she dropped her arms from around him, and he began collecting the bags and tucking them under his arms again.

  Murray came to her door. “Can I help?”

  Rory pointed to bags, which Murray picked up.

  “You’ve got a pack horse with you, yeah?” Murray asked.

  “Yes, we have,” Xian said from the door. He had a disgusted look on his face.

  “Where are the horses?” Rory’s brow creased at Xian’s expression.

  “They kept them in the garage,” Xian replied. “They’ve no right to complain about the manure on their concrete.”


  “We’ve got to get out o’ here.” Rory glanced down at her. “No offence, Siobhan, but this is no place to be.” He leaned closer and kissed her forehead. “Come, let me take you to where it’s really livin’. Where everywhere you look is full o’ beauty, wildness, and wisdom. Where the wind blows through you and your soul comes alive. Where ye can be truly free, mo chroi.” He tilted his head, and she followed him out.

  Wild and free with little technology—living it rough. Such a change from the comforts of the Bunker. The niggle of doubt threatened again as she followed Rory’s broad back.

  No, she could do it. Would do it. She’d do anything to be with this man.

  Siobhan said farewell to everyone she passed. Louise stood at the stairwell, her eyes red. She flung her arms around Siobhan.

  “Keep in touch, Siobhan.” She sniffed. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Me too,” Siobhan said into their hug. “I’ll CB you as much as I can. Don’t forget me.”

  “I won’t. Bethany wasn’t going to let you go, but meeting Rory made her realise how strongly he feels about you. Then she saw you together, and she knew it was mutual. Well, only a fool would try to keep that sort of love apart.” Louise gave a nervous laugh before releasing Siobhan from her hug. “That’s what she said, anyway.”

  Through the stairwell, soldiers stood nearby with their weapons in their hands and they followed them to the maintenance garages. Siobhan tried to gain eye contact with the men and women in uniform, but each one averted their eyes.

  “We are being farewelled in the same manner we were greeted,” Rory said over his shoulder.

  “That’s ridiculous.” They don’t trust my husband? There was so much work to do on the Government’s relationship with the Communities.

  Henderson stood by the horses. Boy whinnied and snorted when Rory approached. Rory placed Siobhan’s bags on the ground, avoiding the horse droppings, and patted his stallion who soon settled at the music of his deep rumblings in the Gaelic. Siobhan released a warm sigh at the special relationship Rory had with that animal. She’d have to get used to horses. The largest animals the Bunker husbanded were sheep. Standing next to Boy were a packhorse and two saddled horses.