Restoring Time

by Jenn Lees

  “Oh,” she said.

  “Oh?” Rory turned to her. “Aye. That’s your horse, Siobhan.” He indicated to the smaller of the two.

  Siobhan’s armpits were on their way to being as damp as Rory’s palms had been in Bethany’s office.

  “You’ll be fine, lass. It’s a long way hame. You’ll be an expert by the time we get there.”

  “Are you sure about that?” she asked. “It may not be far enough.”

  Rory chuckled, and Xian smiled as they both loaded most of her things onto the packhorse, and the rest on the horse she would ride.

  “Well, brother,” Rory said to Murray. “Dinnae ken when I’ll see you again. You be careful, aye? And say goodbye to that loving sister of ours.” He pulled Murray toward him and enveloped him in a hug.

  Murray’s eyes were moist when he said goodbye and turned away from Rory.

  “Come here, little brother, give your sister-in-law a kiss goodbye.” Siobhan drew him into a hug. He seemed so young, yet what a sensible lad he was. “Keep it a secret,” she whispered into his ear.

  “Aye, you know it’s safe with me.” His voice was even lower. “One day you’ll tell me about it, yeah? And what will happen.”

  “Yes, keep close to the meteorologists and geologists,” she whispered back.

  “My next best friends. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Are we going?” Xian asked. He spoke with impatience, something Siobhan had never heard in this gentle Chinese man’s tone.

  “Aye, I’d hate to keep all these armed soldiers waiting.” Rory waved Siobhan to her horse and boosted her into the saddle. He handed her the reins. “Remember what to do?”

  “Yes, but...” Siobhan cringed.

  “Och, give ’em back. I’ll lead until you’re a bit more confident.”

  He tossed the reins over the horse’s head and held on to them while he mounted Boy. Siobhan on her horse trailed behind Rory, and the packhorse followed Xian. They walked their mounts up the ramp to daylight, shadowed all the way by the soldiers. The gate rumbled open, and they rode out.

  Siobhan took one last look at the up-ground compound of the Scottish Government Bunker. The next time she planned to see it, she’d be pregnant and asking for assistance.

  Chapter 16

  Scottish Government Bunker, Edinburgh, 2061

  Clanking cutlery and the hum of mealtime echoed out of the mess hall where Bethany’s staff were having their lunch. She strode down the corridor to the lifts, clutching a file, relying on the hubbub of meal-time conversation to cover her exit. Once inside the lift, she pressed the button to the level that held the Bunker’s detainment cells, hugged the file to her chest...And sighed.

  She and Siobhan had grown up together. Not besties, as other girls in the Bunker had been, but being part of the children of the elite and growing up in this place forged friendships, ones that may never have happened if the world hadn’t changed.

  Siobhan had changed. It had been subtle at first, then she never denied it. Siobhan’s obsession with drone footage, her eagerness to go with the team to deal with the nuclear threat at Loch Ewe, and now her insistence on being the one to liaise with the Communities, all displayed her bias toward those up top. Antony saw it too.

  He was correct and Siobhan had aligned herself with that stunning young man, Rory Campbell, and married him, all in the name of friendship.

  It was a political choreography designed to unite Government and Community—or so it seemed.

  Siobhan’s sympathies for Community life reflected her own rebellion, Antony had said.

  They should watch her. She was an ignorant spy unintentionally providing the intelligence while she slept with the enemy, he had also said.

  So why do I feel like a Judas?

  Antony was right. She hadn’t believed him at first, but during their conversations in confidence he’d produced compelling arguments that had caused her to doubt Siobhan and the intentions of people who lived the Community way of life. Antony was intelligent, but a little damaged—in an appealing sort of way.

  She would’ve stuck to her refusal to let Siobhan go, but Antony had been insistent. It offered an opportunity to monitor things up-top so much closer than a drone.

  The lift opened, the young guard saluted and she strode past him to Antony’s cell. Weights and a bench-press ran along the far wall next to his desk. An open notebook and Aristotle’s Politics: A Treatise on Government lay on the desk and a pile of books sat on the floor.

  Antony was waiting for her—he always was.

  He leaned forward on his bunk, dark eyes wide and unblinking, his cheek’s angry scar from the bite he’d received from his bandit accomplice at Loch Ewe, was fading to pink.

  She sat on the stool opposite the bars and settled the file on her lap.

  “Are the bugs in place?” he asked.

  Not even a hello?

  “Yes, Grasby is amazing,” she replied. “He can make the tiniest things from all that old tech.”

  Antony flicked a finger at the contents of her lap.

  “What have you got for me? What did the self-appointed clan chief get up to while he was here?”

  A CAMOUFLAGE VEHICLE followed them through the suburbs of Edinburgh. Rory rode in silence with Xian beside him and Siobhan riding stiff-saddled behind them both. The locals didn’t pester them like they had on their way into Edinburgh. Perhaps it was the covered jeep tailing them that deterred trouble. It was an escort of the rear-guard kind—or a surety they did exit Edinburgh. Either way, Rory didn’t lose sight of the vehicle until they were well on the road and close to the Kincardine Bridge.

  “Okay,” Xian said once they were clear of houses and other company. “I don’t expect you to tell me everything, Rory. I trust you implicitly and I decided a long time ago, that unless it caused imminent danger, I would let you do your thing and I would do what was required of me.” He paused, twisted in the saddle to glance around at Siobhan. “I’m sure you are definitely in on this too, Mrs Campbell. Usually”—he turned back to face Rory—“I’d let it go. But you’ve been talking major disaster with your researching volcanic explosions, and, man, like, I need to know.”

  The horses’ rhythmic treads on the rubble of a road turning to dirt was the sole sound for a while. Ahead, the tree-covered hills were rising; behind these were the grey-brown of the Highlands, now capped in white—and home. Siobhan had implied the volcanic eruption would threaten it all.

  And he’d had a vision of it.

  The means of obtaining a look into the future was closed knowledge. Xian had never been privy to the existence of a time machine. Angela had let it slip over breakfast, but Xian hadn’t commented—yet.

  “He doesn’t know, does he?” Siobhan asked from behind him.

  Rory shook his head. “Och, no. Very few do.”

  “I think it’s about time your friend did,” she said. “He’s a valuable part of your team, and we’ll need all the help we can get.”

  Xian looked back at Siobhan and then again to Rory. “Well?”

  “Dinnae look at me, Xian.” Rory lifted his chin in Siobhan’s direction. “She has nae even told me the full story yet.”

  “In the near future,” Siobhan began, “Mount Vesuvius will erupt—”

  “Wait. Pompeii Mount Vesuvius?” Xian asked. “That one?”

  Rory turned in his saddle, then pulled the reins of Siobhan’s horse until she was up close and between himself and Xian. She clutched the pommel of the saddle at the horse’s sudden trot.

  “Continue, lass.” Rory raised his eyebrows.

  “Yes, the very same.” Siobhan steadied herself in the saddle. “For years, volcanologists have been expecting it to erupt again, on the same scale as the time it wiped out Pompeii. In a few years, it will spew so much volcanic ash into the atmosphere that it will block the sun’s light to a degree that will cause the sky to darken, and crops to fail. There will be—”

  “What?” Xian interrupted again, his brow
in a knot, and his intense stare boring into Siobhan. “Where did you get this information from?”

  “...a famine.” Siobhan emphasised the word and continued without answering Xian. “A similar situation occurred during the Dark Ages, 536 AD, actually. A volcano, or possibly several, erupted, and it affected most of Europe. Their histories describe it as a long winter, or failure of bread. Either way, it was bad, and it will happen again and affect us up here in Scotland.”

  Xian’s mouth remained open after his previous questions.

  Rory swallowed. Wasn’t a world-wide stock market crash, which changed things forever, enough? Or periodic nuclear explosions?

  Apparently not.

  “So, you were covered in ash?” Rory turned to her.

  She looked awkward. “No, that was...something else.”

  Rory’s throat dried while many possibilities ran through his mind, all of them bad.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Siobhan said.

  “Ye had better.” His neck muscles twinged with their tightness. “My imagination’s workin’ overtime here.”

  “I got back okay, Rory.” Siobhan reached over and placed her hand on his arm. “That’s all that matters.”

  He glanced at her small hand on his forearm then covered it with his own, the warmth of both seeping into his skin. She was with him now, and he would never be without her again.

  Ever.

  “Got back from where?” Xian’s deep brown eyes turned on Rory.

  The man had a right to know. The trust on which they based their friendship was in jeopardy if he didn’t tell Xian. Rory sighed.

  “We, at the Invercharing Community, developed a time machine. It works—most of the time. My faither used it. I’ve used it twice. Yesterday, Siobhan accidentally travelled to the future and back.” The telling of this secret somehow gave him a sense of release. Xian was now one less significant person in his life from whom he’d have to hide the truth.

  Xian double blinked then stared ahead, silent.

  “When the Government came to assist us with the submarine and the nuclear issue, they took it back with them. Against my wishes. That’s why Murray went. He kens how to use the thing.” Rory stopped talking. Xian was too quiet. “You okay, Xian?”

  Xian rocked with the movement of his horse’s gait, staring ahead, and began to nod.

  “Yes, Rory Campbell, and for some strange reason I believe you. When I consider it, it explains some weird things about you, that never made sense until now.”

  “Who are those men?” Siobhan pointed off to the left where riders on horseback stood on a hill beside the road, their observation of them obvious.

  Xian squinted. Rory rummaged in his saddlebag for his binoculars.

  “Bandits,” Xian said. “But I think they’re friendly.”

  “You mean Micah McNair?” Siobhan asked.

  Rory halted his rummaging. “How do you ken about him?”

  Siobhan grimaced, her eyes flicking back and forth. “You told me about him.” Her voice wavered.

  “In the future?” Rory narrowed his eyes.

  Siobhan nodded.

  “So, we’ll be friends with bandits?” Xian asked. “This may be a good thing.”

  “We’ll be related to Micah McNair.” Siobhan looked sideways at Rory.

  “Cèilidh,” Rory whispered, and Siobhan gave a slight nod.

  The riders picked their way down the hill then cantered along the road to them. Micah’s face was full of that smug smile.

  “Greetings, friends.” Micah pulled up in front of Rory and his gaze landed on Siobhan. “And hello to you, Mrs Campbell.”

  “Micah, nice to meet you,” Siobhan replied.

  Rory slid his glance from Micah to Siobhan. She didn’t need to be that civil to the guy.

  “Why’re you here?” Rory’s question came through a rough voice.

  “Now, be nice.” Micah tilted his head to the side, a hurt expression exaggerated on his face. “I’m gonna save your arse, again.” The smug smile returned.

  Irritation twirled its finger in the back of Rory’s mind and came out in his tone. “How?”

  “I’m gonna get you over the bridge, maybe without even paying a tax.”

  Something else bothered Rory, not just Micah’s self-assurance.

  “You’ve been waiting for us?”

  “Aye, and you didn’t stay for long. Holiday accommodations not to your liking, Rory? Or just in a hurry to get your wee wifey home, hey?” Micah’s eyebrows wiggled.

  “What do you want?” Rory said firmly, ignoring Micah’s insinuation.

  “Look, man, I just wanna help.” Micah’s horse moved its head, tack jingling. “Make it easier for us all to get home.” He looked at Siobhan and widened his eyes for a second while tilting his chin in her direction.

  Micah seemed to be hinting that his father seeing Siobhan could be a danger for her. Cold flashed through Rory at the implications. She was in her forties, but still a beauty. It was true Micah was a way of getting over the Kincardine Bridge and slipping through Lloyd’s trawl-net without it catching Siobhan. If that’s what Micah was implying.

  “Okay.” Rory would just have to trust him.

  “Okay?” Micah’s brows lifted for only a moment. “Good.” He spun his horse and cantered ahead.

  Chapter 17

  The Kingdom of Fife

  Micah rode ahead of Rory, his long, blond dreadlocks were bound loosely behind him. With the half dozen bandits who travelled with him, Micah led the way to the Kincardine Bridge. Lloyd’s men were also stationed on this side of the bridge by a shed where people handed over taxes of cash, livestock, non-perishable foods, and objects that could be useful items before being granted passage over the bridge.

  Rory reached behind him and touched the stock of his handgun tucked in his belt, firm beneath his fingertips and reassuringly present. He nudged Boy on, following Micah’s group, and joined the queue that shuffled forward. Rory scanned the line of travellers and once again, apart from Lloyd’s guards, he was among the only ones overtly armed. Rory glanced at Siobhan who sat silent on her horse watching everything.

  “Which way did you come when you left us to return to the Bunker?” he asked.

  “We crossed this bridge,” she replied. “It’s the only way you can get a tank over the Forth. But we never encountered this.”

  Rory raised his eyebrows, pointing at the rickety structure. “You took a tank over that?”

  Lloyd must have heard in advance and cleared it of his men and toll booths, not wanting the Government to discover his enterprise.

  Micah dismounted to talk to one of the guards. Their conversation was heated, with Micah pointing his finger in the older man’s face. The guard never flinched. Micah raised his voice, his face darkening. Bright spots appeared on the older guard’s cheeks, and he straightened his stance.

  “Why do we need Micah’s assistance?” Siobhan asked.

  “His father is in control of all of Fife, at least, and more. Nobody, and I mean, no-body, gets across the bridge without his permission.” Rory adjusted his seat, his saddle and stirrup leather creaking. “We met him on the way down.”

  “You could call it that,” Xian said.

  Siobhan cocked an eyebrow at Rory.

  “Och, he gave us some accommodation which we didn’t require, or ask for,” he said.

  “He imprisoned you?” Siobhan’s expression was one of alarm.

  “Aye, detained overnight.” Rory fiddled with the reins. “He was a wee bit curious about us.”

  “About you, Rory,” Xian threw over his shoulder and returned to study Micah locked in conversation with the solid-looking guard.

  “Who is his father?” Siobhan asked.

  “You may have heard of him. Derrick Lloyd is an important guy around here.”

  Siobhan’s face had gone pale and her hands grasping the pommel of her saddle blanched white. Cool ran its fingers down Rory’s spine. His woman had been to the future,
and her pallor coincided with the mention of that man’s name.

  “Siobh—”

  “Okay!” Micah’s raised voice rang back to them. Micah was now nose-to-nose with the older guard.

  “Mr Lloyd wishes to see you and your companions immediately on your return, Micah.” The guard’s voice, raised even louder, travelled down the queue.

  Micah spun away from the man and stomped toward Rory, the bandit leader’s nostrils flaring. Rory leaned forward in the saddle to angle closer for Micah’s report.

  “Rory, I did all I could, but we’ve got to see my dad,” he whispered. “Sorry, man, no way round it. Your woman’s from the Government, yeah? You could make him feel important and say they want to hold talks with him, or somethin’. He’d like that. And she’ll be safe. He can’t take her once he knows she’s Government. She’s too important, ken?”

  Rory’s neck heated. He glanced aside to Siobhan; her face was as tight as her grip on the pommel. But it would cause more trouble to try and avoid this meeting.

  “It’s on your head.” Rory pointed his index finger in Micah’s face. “You get us out of there if you ever want to see my sister.”

  “Okay, man!” Micah raised his hands in surrender and turned, stomping back to his horse, his bun of dreadlocks bobbing behind him.

  Micah mounted and kicked his horse on; his band followed. Rory nudged Boy in behind them and Siobhan’s gelding dragged along. Xian manoeuvred his horse and the packhorse while those waiting to cross parted to allow them through. Once over the bridge, Micah led them down the road toward the old holiday park.

  Siobhan sat silently on her horse, sweat beading on her forehead.

  “It will be okay, Siobhan. We’ll suggest a parley between Lloyd and the Scottish Government.” Rory spoke over his pounding heart and the niggle developing in his guts. “He may be a megalomaniac, but he is an important man around here. The Government will want to have some dealings with him.”