by Peter Ward
“I know my rights!” the blacksmith said, standing in front of his property, his bulging arms crossed across his chest. “You ain’t got the authority to pull me house down! Only Bloodworth has the authority to pull me house down! I want to speak to Bloodworth!”
Geoff tugged on William’s sleeve.
“Why do they want to pull his house down?” he said.
“Stops the fire spreading,” William said. “If there’s nowhere for it to go, it burns itself out.”
“And who is ‘Bloodworth’?”
“Thomas Bloodworth. Or Sir Thomas Bloodworth. Lord Mayor of London. He’ll be here any minute.”
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before a horse-drawn carriage arrived, pulling up a safe distance away from all the commotion. The carriage door opened, and a tall, middle-aged man stepped out. Geoff watched as he approached the nearest fireman. He had an extremely large moustache and was dressed smartly in a slashed doublet with wide lace cuffs, a dark gray pair of britches, a full-length fur-lined gown, and a broad-brimmed hat. His appearance was so extravagant that he looked as though he’d just been called away from one of Elton John’s birthday parties.
“That’s Thomas Bloodworth,” William said to the group. “The fire authorities want to pull down the adjacent buildings to stop the fire from spreading any further, but this is classified as destruction of property, which is a very serious matter. So they’ve had to summon the Lord Mayor to assess the threat of the fire and see if he will permit them to take whatever action they deem necessary.”
Geoff strained to hear the conversation between Bloodworth and the firemen, who didn’t appear to be having much luck in convincing the Lord Mayor that this fire might become a bit of a bother if they weren’t allowed to contain it quickly.
“You woke me up for this?” Bloodworth said, looking up at the blaze.
“My Lord,” the fireman said, wiping a film of wet soot from his face. “We’ve got to pull down all the surrounding buildings immediately! The fire is out of control! My men …”
“Now, now,” Bloodworth said, straightening his white lace collar. “I’m sure your men are more than capable of dealing with this.”
“You ain’t gonna let him pull me house down are you, me Lord?” the blacksmith shouted from across the street. “That house is all I’ve got!”
“No one’s going to be pulling anyone’s house down,” Bloodworth replied. “I forbid it.”
The fireman looked visibly distressed at this decision, which was understandable, as it was quite clearly the wrong one.
“God bless you sir!” the blacksmith shouted. “Hooray for Lord Bloodworth!”
Bloodworth smiled at the blacksmith and turned to leave.
“My Lord, I beg you to reconsider,” the fireman said, pulling on Bloodworth’s gown. “With the greatest respect, I think you’re making a terrible mistake! This is one of the worst fires I’ve ever seen!”
“Pish!” Bloodworth said, snatching his gown from the fireman’s grip. “A woman could piss it out!”
It was clear to everyone that this was a slight understatement.
The tourists all watched in silence as Bloodworth stormed back to his carriage, slammed the door behind him, and ordered his driver to take him home. The fireman stood shaking on the spot as Bloodworth left, the flames behind him beginning to spread further and further. It took a few moments before he managed to regain his composure, turning his attention back to his men to coordinate their futile efforts.
“So there you have it,” William said to the group. “That is how the Great Fire of London started and how one man’s inaction led to the destruction of most of the city.”
As William spoke, a large building on one side of the street began to topple over, its charred wooden structure splintering out in all directions as it crashed to the ground in a suffocating cloud of ash. People began to scream as they watched two more buildings catch alight, with everyone staring in horror as the fire grew more and more out of control.
Amidst all the chaos, however, there was one person who seemed quite calm: a person who wasn’t screaming, wasn’t running around in a blind panic, and wasn’t even looking at the fire.
He seemed to be looking at Geoff.
Geoff couldn’t quite see who it was—the person’s face was obscured by a dark hooded cape, and they stood a good few meters away on the other side of the street. At this distance, he couldn’t even tell if the person were a man or a woman. The figure reminded him of something, but he couldn’t think what.
At first Geoff thought he was imagining it—why would anyone be looking at him at a time like this, when the city was burning to the ground? But as he walked slowly through the group of tourists to find Tim, the caped figure seemed to track his movements, its head turning slowly to follow Geoff’s every step.
“Tim?” Geoff said, tapping his friend on the shoulder.
“This is incredible isn’t it?” Tim said, not taking his eyes of the fire. “Reminds me of that time you thought it would be a good idea to throw cooking oil on that BBQ to get it started …”
“Yeah,” Geoff said. “Listen—is there any reason why someone would be watching me?”
Tim looked round.
“What?”
“You see that guy over the street?” Geoff nodded discretely towards the hooded figure. “He’s staring right at me. Can you see?”
Tim flicked his eyes in the direction Geoff had indicated. Sure enough, the mysterious figure was just standing there, his gaze locked in their direction.
“I’m pretty sure they haven’t taken their eyes off me for the last few minutes,” Geoff whispered, “and it’s starting to feel a little creepy. Any idea why?”
“No,” Tim said, narrowing his eyes. “But I tell you this—no one intimidates my Time Reps and gets away with it. Shall we go and ask them why they’re so interested in you?”
“No, don’t bother,” Geoff said, pulling on Tim’s arm. “I mean, I don’t want to cause a fuss or anything …”
“It’s no fuss,” Tim said, shrugging himself free from Geoff’s grip and making his way towards the caped figure. “In fact, I’m just as curious as you to see what this guy is up to …”
But as Tim began to cross the road, the caped figure appeared to realize he had been noticed and backed away into the sea of people behind him.
“Hey!” Tim shouted, quickening his pace. “You there!”
The caped figure turned round and began to run.
“Wait!” Tim called out, breaking into a sprint.
Geoff followed a few footsteps behind, quickly sidestepping his way past various groups of people and shielding his face from the cloud of burning embers drifting through the air. Up ahead, the caped figure darted down a side street and ducked into the nearest burning building. It looked as though the place was going to collapse at any moment, with a cross section of red-hot timbers smashing to the floor as he entered.
Tim stopped short of going inside himself—the flames around the doorway were just too fierce, the heat almost unbearable.
Geoff caught up a few seconds later.
“Where … is he?” Geoff wheezed. He was out of breath—this was the first time he’d done any exercise since he ran for a bus twelve years ago.
“He’s in there,” Tim replied, pointing through the burning doorway. “Right in the middle of the fire. Can you see him?”
Geoff leaned forward to get a closer look. The heat was painfully intense on his face, but he could just about see the hooded figure crouched down in the middle of the room. As Tim had said, he was surrounded by flames, the ends of his cape beginning to catch alight. There didn’t seem to be any means of escape.
“My God,” Geoff said, looking away for a moment to rub the sting of ash out of his eyes. “They’ll burn alive in there!”
But when Geoff looked round again, the hooded figure began to turn transparent like a ghost. A few seconds later,
they’d completely disappeared into the ether.
“Son of a bitch!” Tim said, kicking a loose stone on the floor.
“Did I see that right?” Geoff said. “Where did they go?”
“I don’t know,” Tim said, backing away from the doorway. “But it looks as though they just escaped to another time period. Clever bastard must have already been wearing his earphones under that hood.”
“Earphones? You mean they were from the future?”
“Most likely,” Tim replied. “But the big question is—why were they watching you?”
Geoff and Tim made their way back to the tourists, who had been moved to a safer spot by William, near the edge of the River Thames. The fire was now so widespread it lit up the night sky like a horrific firework display. Grand wooden tenements had been reduced to charred piles of ash, the ground was covered in a thick film of soot, and the air was heavy with a black, billowing smoke. Geoff felt like he was watching the extinction of the dinosaurs again, only this time in slow motion.
Eric was leaning against a tree stump near the riverbank, watching as another structure collapsed to the ground in the distance. He seemed to be preoccupied with something, barely reacting to the devastation around him.
“Eric!” Tim called out.
Eric looked up.
“Where did you two disappear off to?” he asked.
“We may have a problem,” Tim said, wiping a streak of soot from his forehead.
“Problem?”
“We think someone has been watching Geoff. We’re not sure for how long—Geoff only noticed him once the fire had started. But they were definitely up to something.”
“How can you be sure?” Eric said, fanning a cloud of smoke away from his face. “I mean, couldn’t it have just been a coincidence?” He turned to Geoff. “Maybe they were just looking your way at random?”
“I don’t think so,” Tim replied. “When I went over to confront the guy, he made a run for it—even dashed into a burning building to get away. I don’t like it.”
“Hmm. Did you see what they looked like?”
Tim shook his head. “They were wearing a cape with a hood. Didn’t get to see their face.”
Eric sat in silence for a moment, looking through Tim and Geoff as though they were a mirage in the heat.
“What are you thinking?” Tim asked, brushing a few sparks from his clothes.
“I need to report this,” Eric said, rummaging through his pockets and pulling out his earphones. “And besides—we all have to be somewhere anyway.”
“We do?” Geoff said.
“Yes—tonight is the tenth Time Rep inauguration party,” Tim explained, placing his first earphone in place. “Mr. Knight holds one every year to welcome new reps to the business. You’ll be meeting all the other Time Reps, key investors, politicians and scientists.”
“It’ll be quite a bash,” Eric added.
“Hang on a minute,” Geoff said. “Is now really the best time to be going to a party? I mean—shouldn’t we be trying to find out why that person was watching me? What if I’m in some sort of danger?”
“Don’t worry,” Eric said. “All the people who need to know about this will be at the inauguration party anyway, so that’s the best place for us to be if we want to get to the bottom of this.”
“Who do you think they were?” Geoff said. “I mean, do you have any idea?”
“Eric, I hate to say it, but it could be one of them,” Tim suggested.
“One of who?” Geoff said.
“One of the people who’ve worked out the loophole in my algorithm,” Eric conceded. “Time terrorists who know how to cheat the paradox scan.”
Eight
Geoff was surprised to find a luxurious stretched limousine waiting to take them to the inauguration party when they arrived back from the Fire of London. With blacked out windows, gleaming bodywork, and blinding halogen headlights, he felt like a film star being driven to a movie premiere or a politician going to a big summit. Basically, he felt like someone more important than him, although as he now knew, that was pretty much everyone.
He reclined into the soft leather comfort of the limousine’s back seat, stretched out his legs as far as they would go, and let out a long sigh—he hadn’t sat down for the last three hours, which must have been a new personal record. Eric sat next to Geoff, typing something into a small phone-like device. Tim sat opposite, his back to the driver.
“OK,” Eric said, slotting the device back in his jacket pocket. “I’ve just sent a report to Mr. Knight and a few other key personnel about what just happened, so let’s see what they come back with …”
Tim was looking at Geoff.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Geoff wasn’t sure how to answer. Part of him was a little bit scared at the prospect of being watched, but at the same time he felt a strange sense of relief—if this hooded figure had indeed been watching him, surely that meant he couldn’t be as insignificant as Eric’s computer had predicted?
Geoff sat up in his seat and looked at Eric.
“Could your computer be wrong about me?” he said. “I mean, if there’s a loophole in your algorithm, could this mean I might not be an ‘insignificant nobody’ after all?”
Eric sighed. “I don’t want to get into this again,” he said, closing his eyes. He looked exhausted, the deep wrinkles around his face sagging like a tire with a slow puncture. “Like I said before, the loophole potentially allows the computer to be manipulated into using its own powers of prediction against itself. That’s all I can say. It has nothing to do with the assessment it made of you, which is still accurate.”
“Prove it,” Geoff said. “If you’re so sure your computer hasn’t made a mistake about me, explain more about this loophole.”
Eric shifted his weight in his seat. He looked uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss the details with anyone until I’ve rewritten the algorithm. It’s simply too dangerous.”
“It’s not just you, Geoff,” Tim added. “Even I’m not allowed to know about the loophole.”
“I don’t understand,” Geoff said. “How do you even know these ‘time terrorists’ have worked out a flaw in your code?”
“Because a few months ago, I made a frightening discovery—I found out that someone had been hacking into the computer. Running different simulations to see the outcome of making certain changes. This wouldn’t normally be a problem—the computer would still detect a change was being made and block anyone from going back in time if they were to attempt it in real life. But in this case, the scenario they ran was different. Someone had worked out how to change the course of history without the computer even realizing it. The scenario was perfect in every way. Brilliantly devised. And totally devastating.”
“What was it?”
Eric glanced out of the window of the limousine.
“Like I said, I can’t talk about it. But it involved visiting a time period we don’t currently offer as a holiday destination—yet.”
“And you have no idea who the hacker was?”
“No. But whoever it was, they must have had someone on the inside helping them. There’s no way they would have been able to access the computer and analyze the algorithm otherwise.”
“Maybe it was that fat guy,” Geoff said.
Eric frowned.
“What fat guy?” he said.
“The fat guy in the main computer bit.”
“The ‘main computer bit’?”
“Yeah, you know, the er … the … main computer bit.”
“You mean the paradox-scanning facility?”
“Yeah. The sweaty guy with the clipboard. Maybe he was sweaty because he’s nervous about being caught.”
“What are you talking about?” Eric said, leaning forward. “It was over 100 degrees in there! We were all sweating! You’re just accusing a random person!”
&
nbsp; “No I’m not!” Geoff replied. “Maybe it was the cleaner?”
“Stop,” Eric said, holding his hand up. “Just … stop. This algorithm isn’t something a cleaner or a security guard would have access to. It’s protected with a rolling encryption, so someone would need to have top, top, top level security clearance to get to it—a senior physicist maybe, or a board member.”
“What’s a ‘rolling encryption?’”
“It’s like an encryption, but it rolls.”
Geoff gave a slow nod to pretend he understood Eric’s explanation.
“So anyway, until the new algorithm is ready, my work on rewriting it is absolutely top secret.”
Geoff was just about to ask another irritating question when something unexpected caught his eye outside. He leaned forward and looked out of the window. It was a Ford Focus. He had travelled over a thousand years into the future and he was looking at a Ford Focus driving just ahead of them. Either Ford Focuses were extremely resilient cars, or something wasn’t quite right. He looked out of the other window. A couple of Audis and a BMW were overtaking them. On the other side of the road, a Volkswagen Golf was tailgating a Chrysler. What was going on? Come to think of it, why were they travelling in a car? Weren’t people supposed to be flying around in jet-powered shoes by now? Or teleporting—hadn’t Mr. Knight mentioned teleportation?
It wasn’t just the cars—the more Geoff looked around, the more things looked a little too familiar: buildings, streetlights, road signs, shop names, postboxes. Hadn’t anything changed in over one thousand years?
“Am I missing something here?” Geoff said, still staring out of the window. “Isn’t this to be the year 3050? Why does everything look exactly the same as I remember it?”
“I was wondering how long it would take you to notice,” Tim said. “Things may look exactly the same, but this is not the original London you remember. It’s actually a huge re-creation of the old city, right down to the last brick.”
“A re-creation?”
“Remember earlier you asked me about the Varsarians?” Eric said.