TimeBomb: The TimeBomb Trilogy: Book 1

by Scott K. Andrews

  ‘Brother?’ Quil sounded surprised.

  ‘James. The escaped soldier Mountfort just referred to. He is my brother. If I am to return to my family, I would have it as it used to be. He must be changed back into the person he was before the religious zealotry of these Puritans twisted his mind. Can you do this for me?’

  Quil nodded. ‘Fix the mother, fix the brother. No problem. Assuming he survives the battle, of course.’

  ‘Then we are not enemies, you and I,’ said Dora. ‘I know not what you do here, or why, but I allow that it is none of my concern. I would much rather be left alone and in peace.’

  ‘You got it.’

  As Quil resumed her business with the computer, Dora and Mountfort took Sarah and sat her down against the wall. ‘Mother, can you hear me?’ asked Dora, gently.

  Sarah was staring into space, biting her nails. She gave no indication that she had heard a thing.

  Mountfort laid a hand on Dora’s arm and she met his gaze. ‘Young mistress, do I understand correctly, that you are in fact in no danger?’

  ‘It appears so,’ she replied.

  ‘Then I must away from here. Sweetclover will awaken soon, and when he does I shall be in great difficulties.’

  ‘You will take the tunnel?’

  Mountfort nodded, so Dora explained how to find the ice house, and the best route he should take to quit the area quickly. ‘I thank you, young mistress,’ he said as he rose to leave. ‘I am sorry for our earlier disagreement, I hope you can accept that I was trying to do the honourable thing by my king and by my country. And I wish you all the best in this strange place.’

  Dora leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Go safely,’ she said, before returning her attentions to her mother.

  Mountfort smiled and then walked to Quil. ‘Milady, I think I would be of best use in the house above, helping repel the attack.’

  Quil, fixated on the screens, did not look at him. Her fingers tapping away on a curious instrument before them, a long flat object covered in buttons, each with a different letter painted upon it. ‘You’d be in the way,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘But you could go and get Hank for me, OK? Bring him down here. He should see this.’

  Mountfort nodded. ‘Yes, my lady.’ He walked away, flashing a wink at Dora.

  But when he reached the door and placed his hand upon its edge, he stopped in his tracks and gave a soft groan. Dora stared at him, puzzled, as he stood there, frozen in place. After a moment she called, ‘Master Mountfort? Are you well?’

  He slowly turned towards her and opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. Instead a thin dribble of blood leaked from his lips. It was only when he stepped forward, unsteady on his feet, that she saw the knife hilt protruding from his belly. Dora’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a scream as Mountfort fell first to his knees and then toppled forward onto his face.

  Behind his prone body, which twitched and shook as shock took hold, Sweetclover stepped through the doorway. Dora watched, horror stricken, as he rolled Mountfort over and pulled the knife from his stomach. Mountfort groaned in agony as the blade slid out. Sweetclover used Mountfort’s smock to clean the knife, then began to advance puposefully towards Dora.

  Dora froze, holding her mother, whose eyes were now heavy with sleep. She could feel her grip on sanity slipping away from her again, as it had done in the church. The horrors of this endless day kept piling up and threatened to bury her beneath them. She had been foolish, trying to rescue Jana and Kaz. They weren’t even here, and if they had been, what could she have done? She was a fourteen-year-old girl armed with a candle. It was she who needed rescuing. She was a danger to herself and others, not least poor Mountfort, salty and sneaky, but kind at heart and now dying in a pool of his own blood.

  As Sweetclover bore down on her, she made a vow to herself: if only someone would intervene to save her, if only she could survive this day, she would make sure that she never needed rescuing again, for as long as she lived.

  26

  The elevator doors slid open silently. Jana stood ready, legs apart, pistols raised, teeth gritted in anticipation. But she found, to her astonishment and relief, that although the room was occupied, everybody had their backs to her.

  By the computer table and the bank of floating screens stood a woman in an obvious wig. Had to be Quil. Beyond her was Sweetclover, walking towards Dora, who cowered on the floor with her back to the wall cradling an unconscious woman. There was a man lying by the door. Jana thought he was dead till she saw one of his arms twitch. A glint of light drew Jana’s gaze to Sweetclover’s hand, where he held a vicious-looking knife. She stepped forward, taking aim at Sweetclover’s back. She was just drawing breath to issue a command for him to stop when Quil saved her the trouble.

  ‘What are you doing, Hank?’ said Quil, rushing to put herself between him and Dora.

  Although Quil was now facing in her direction, Jana was masked from her view by Sweetclover. But she wouldn’t be for long. She ducked down, hurried behind a nearby chest and peered out at the unfolding drama, ready to intervene if needed.

  ‘That whoreson and this cat beat me unconscious and left me for dead,’ Sweetclover shouted.

  Quil looked down at Dora, whose hands Jana could see were shaking. ‘Is this true, Dora?’ asked Quil.

  ‘Yes,’ replied Dora, her voice quavering with fear. ‘But that was before you and I spoke. We believed he was bringing us down here to imprison or torture us. Poor Mountfort was only trying to save me.’

  ‘Poor Mountfort was an insubordinate wretch who paid for his disloyalty with his life,’ snarled Sweetclover. ‘How do you intend to make amends?’

  Quil placed a hand over the knife and forced Sweetclover’s arm down. ‘Stand down, soldier,’ she said. ‘Dora and I have reached an understanding. No need for any more blood here. It’s all good,’ she said, her tone mollifying and placatory. There was a long, tense moment when Jana thought Sweetclover was going to argue, but finally he sheathed his knife and stalked through a door into the anteroom where the patient had been kept.

  Quil looked down at Dora. ‘Am I wrong to trust you?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ replied Dora simply. ‘I only want to go home and be with my family. Please believe me.’

  Before Quil could give a response, Sweetclover burst out of the anteroom. ‘She is gone,’ he yelled, alarmed.

  ‘I know,’ replied Quil, impatiently. ‘I told you this was going to happen, I just didn’t know when. She was well prepared, I made sure of that. She’ll be fine. We’ve got other fish to fry now, OK?’

  ‘But how?’ said Sweetclover, bewildered.

  ‘Good question,’ Quil replied, kneeling before Dora. Jana had to strain to make out what she was saying.

  ‘If you want me to honour our agreement, Dora, I need a show of good faith,’ she said softly. ‘Tell me the truth – were Jana and Kaz down here? They’re not here now, so you’re not betraying them. I already know they must be in this time period. I need to know if they were in this room.’

  Jana willed Dora to keep her mouth shut. She did not know what agreement Dora and Quil had reached, but she didn’t think it could be anything good.

  ‘I think they may have been, yes,’ said Dora. ‘I last saw them in the chamber outside.’

  Quil cursed loudly as she rose to her feet again. ‘Today of all days I forget to lock the door. I’m an idiot, Hank. One of them must have touched her.’

  Sweetclover’s shoulders slumped and he looked sad. ‘Then she is gone forever?’

  Quil walked over to him and took his face in her hands. He looked up into her mask as she spoke. ‘No, of course not. How many times do I have to explain this to you, you big lunk? She is me. I am her. I never knew how I was blown back in time again. I thought it must have been another random jump. But I took precautions. She’s got everything she needs on her person. She’ll work it out and start making her way back here, and then you’ll meet her again, five years a
go when I turn up to help me recover from my first time journey. Capiche?’

  Jana could tell by Sweetclover’s face that he was having trouble grasping Quil’s explanation, but it made perfect sense to Jana. Quil had been blown back in time to 1640, horribly damaged on the journey, and had encountered Dora. But then an older version of Quil had arrived, set her up in the makeshift hospital in the undercroft, and nursed her younger self back to health. The recuperation was still ongoing, five years later when the younger Quil came into contact with Kaz and was blown back through time once more. Right now she was waking up in some prehistoric era and would soon begin a journey back to 1640, building her army in the cavern below as she did so. Eventually, she would catch up to herself and arrive ready to live the same five years in this house for a second time, this time as the nurse to her younger self.

  Her mind boggled as she worked out the complexity of Quil’s life; it was no wonder Sweetclover was having trouble wrapping his head around it.

  ‘Look, we can go through it again later, OK?’ said Quil. ‘I’ll draw diagrams and everything, promise. But right now we have two pressing problems. First, Jana and Kaz will have been thrown across time when they touched me. But if only one of them made contact, then the other is still here, and there’s only one place he or she can be.’

  Jana ducked back behind the chest as she realised Quil was turning towards the elevator.

  ‘Down there,’ she heard Quil say. ‘So I need you to go down and get them for me while I deal with our other problem – the army that is about to attack our home. Can you do that for me?’

  Sweetclover did not reply, but he must have nodded because Jana heard his footsteps echoing across the chamber as he walked towards her. Jana shuffled around the chest, keeping out of sight as he entered the elevator. She peeked out as the doors closed and he began to descend.

  Knowing it might be her only chance, Jana rose to her feet and aimed both pistols at Quil, who was halfway across the space, walking towards the computer desk. She froze when she saw Jana. After a moment Quil held her hands out wide in the universally recognised posture of submission.

  ‘Hello, Yojana,’ said Quil, her voice calm and seemingly unsurprised. ‘Sorry, you don’t like that name, do you. Jana, then. Hello, Jana.’

  ‘You must be Quil,’ replied Jana. ‘It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Sorry, mask. I meant mask.’

  ‘Jana.’ That was Dora, rising to her feet, smiling.

  ‘Dora,’ said Jana coolly, not taking her eyes off Quil. ‘What’s all this about you and Quil reaching an understanding?’

  ‘She has promised to help me fix my family and then leave me be,’ replied Dora. ‘She has no quarrel with me, nor I with her.’

  Jana couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Fix your family?’

  ‘She has a machine that can change a person’s mind. She used it upon my mother, to make her more biddable. She will reverse what she has done to her, and she has agreed to use it to return my brother to the man he once was. I will have my family again, Jana. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.’

  ‘And what do you have to do for her? What does she get out of it?’

  ‘Dora stays here and lives her life as if she’d never met me,’ said Quil. ‘It’s a good deal for both of us. She gets her life back, and I turn a potential enemy into a friend. Win win.’

  ‘So we can end this whole thing before it even begins, that’s what you’re saying?’ asked Jana.

  ‘Not exactly,’ replied Quil. ‘It’s simple for Dora. For you and me, it’s a lot more complicated.’

  Jana didn’t like the sound of that but before she could ask Quil what she meant, Dora interrupted.

  ‘He is still alive,’ she said. Jana glanced over to see Dora kneeling by the man on the floor. ‘Help me save him.’

  ‘Mountfort was not part of the deal, Dora,’ said Quil.

  Dora rose to her feet. ‘He is now.’

  Quil’s shoulders slumped wearily. ‘All right, all right, by all means let’s focus all our attention on the insignificant local spy and ignore the great big army that is about to open fire on this building. Yes, let’s do that. What a spectacular idea.’

  Jana took a step forward and pointed the flintlocks square at Quil’s chest. ‘If Dora says that’s the deal, that’s the deal.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Quil through gritted teeth. ‘Get him into the sickroom.’

  Jana gestured towards Mountfort with the pistols. ‘Oh no, I’m keeping you in my sights. You carry him.’

  Quil stomped over to Mountfort, leant down and grabbed his hands. Dora took hold of his feet and they lifted him, which provoked a strangled cry of agony from Mountfort. Together they carried him, blood dripping on their shoes as they staggered under his weight. Jana followed, keeping the pistols trained on Quil at all times.

  ‘On the bed,’ said Quil. She and Dora laid Mountfort on the covers. Dora took Mountfort’s hand and stood by his head as Quil began to work.

  ‘He’s lost a lot of blood,’ she said as she busied herself in the tray of equipment that stood next to the ECG and animal-bladder drip. ‘I have to fix the physical damage before I can transfuse him.’ She turned back to the bed holding a small silver device which she laid on the counterpane next to Mountfort, whose smock she then ripped open to reveal the nasty, oozing wound in his stomach.

  ‘Dora,’ she said. ‘I need you to hold the wound open for me.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Dora looked at the blood queasily.

  Quil leant across Mountfort and grabbed Dora’s wrists, pulled her hands down to the wound, and shoved her fingers deep into Mountfort’s belly. Dora squealed and turned white.

  ‘Now hold the wound open so I can get to his innards,’ said Quil as she picked up the silver instrument. She bent over the now-gaping injury and inserted the silver tool into the wound. Jana was unable to see exactly what Quil was doing, but the smell of burnt flesh began to waft towards her, so she assumed she was cauterising the internal injuries. The stench made Jana gag, and Dora looked as if she was about to faint. Quil, on the other hand, was a model of calm efficiency.

  ‘You’ve done this before,’ said Jana.

  ‘When you’ve fought in as many battles as I have,’ replied Quil, ‘you get good at patching people up.’

  ‘I have a whole world of questions for you.’

  ‘I’m very good at being interrogated. Lots of practice. Fire away,’ said Quil, without looking up from her work.

  Jana hardly knew where to begin, now that Quil was being so open. ‘The woman who was in this bed. That was you, first time around, yes? You’ve lived the same five years in this house twice over – first as the patient, then as the nurse. That right?’

  Quil nodded. ‘I wish Hank understood it as quickly as you did. He gets this look when I try to explain time travel to him, like a cat when it sees its reflection in a mirror.’

  ‘Very neat.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Quil, still focused on Mountfort’s intestines. ‘I kind of had to rescue myself. Nobody else was volunteering for the job.’

  ‘And Sweetclover’s your husband. How did that happen?’

  Quil allowed herself a quick glance up at Jana. ‘That’s your question? Everything you could ask me, and you want to know about my relationship?’ She shook her head in wonder and returned to her work. ‘Honestly, young girls.’ She sighed. ‘You think I used the mind-writer on him, don’t you? I used it to deal with all the servants, and was perfectly willing to use it on Hank. He’s useful. He knows this time and this area, he is my public face when I need one. And he’s essentially a kind man. Pampered, lazy, indolent … but not cruel.’

  Dora, her fingers still holding Mountfort’s wound open, scoffed.

  ‘OK,’ admitted Quil. ‘Sometimes he gets a bit ornery. But not often. Anyway, during my first time in this house, as I was recuperating in this bed, he would come down here and read to me. I think I fell in love with his voice. It took me years be
fore I could even open my eyes and take solid food, but for all that time, I heard his voice, soft and deep, like a lifeline. I used it to pull myself out of the darkness. So when I came back here a second time, healed, ready to nurse my younger self, I’d already fallen for him.’

  ‘And he returned your affections? In spite of your disfigurement?’ asked Dora. Her voice was sceptical.

  ‘I didn’t think he would. I was ready to use the mind-writer on him, like I said, but not for that. That would be … wrong. But I didn’t need to use it at all. He listened, was patient. I asked him to help me and my younger self, and he willingly agreed. I suggested he read to her, and he was glad to do it. I think he fell in love with the mystery long before he fell in love with me. But the servant girls of this time are, well, enthusiastic but insipid. He had gone to London, more than once, in search of a society wife, but they bored him. Say what you like about me, but I am not boring. Before I knew what was happening, we fell in love. Go figure.’

  ‘But you’re … y’know.’ Jana waved at Quil’s mask and wig.

  ‘What, burned to a crisp? I’ve had time to heal. Pretty much back to normal now, apart from my face and hair. Those require skills I don’t have access to yet.’ She leaned across and whispered, conspiratorially, ‘But I think he kind of likes the mask, if you know what I mean.’

  To which Jana could only respond, ‘Eeuuw.’

  Quil chuckled at Jana’s discomfort as she stood upright. ‘OK, you can let go now.’

  Dora pulled her hands from Mountfort’s innards and held them as far from her body as possible, looking for something to wipe them on.

  Jana couldn’t help but smile. ‘Dora,’ she said. ‘You examined how many dead bodies in Pendarn earlier? You had blood up to your elbows, and now you’re squeamish?’

  ‘I did not sink my fingers into their wounds,’ replied Dora, wincing.

  ‘Just wipe them on the blanket,’ said Quil, who had returned to the instrument tray and was rummaging again. ‘Nobody’s using this bed any more anyway.’