by Alex Scarrow
‘Oh my God, I didn’t think the machine –’ She stopped herself before she blurted out anything else. She decided it would be far smarter to keep as much as possible to herself for now.
‘Yes.’ The man’s eyes narrowed curiously. ‘Yes, you do look genuinely surprised at that. What were you going to say?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’
He studied her silently for a few moments. ‘This is someone you lost, isn’t it? Someone you’ve been unable to retrieve? To nd? Some kind of mistake? Is that it?’
‘May I see the message, please?’ she replied.
‘You didn’t think time travel that far back was possible?
’ he said, shing for a reaction on her face. ‘Am I right?’
’ he said, shing for a reaction on her face. ‘Am I right?’
‘We lost someone, al right? Now, can I see the message?’
‘Where are you from?’ he asked, then shook his head. Comical y, he gently slapped his forehead. ‘Stupid, stupid me … it’s when are you from I should be asking, isn’t it?’
Maddy couldn’t help a smile and a dry laugh. ‘It does that to you, this business … makes you want to slap your head.’
The old man shared the smile. ‘I can imagine.’ The smile eased away. Business again. ‘You’re American, that much I’ve worked out. Boston?’
She nodded. No point trying to hide that. ‘Yes.’
‘When?’ He looked at her T-shirt, the faded Intel logo on the front, her jeans, her pumps. ‘Not too far into the future is my guess.’
‘Maybe.’
‘You want to see this?’ he asked, unfolding the message. She nodded.
‘Then can we start having some precise answers from you?’
She shrugged. ‘OK.’
‘Your name is?’
‘Maddy. Maddy Carter.’
‘Hel o, Maddy.’ He nodded politely. ‘And what year are you from?’
‘I’m from 2010,’ she replied.
The answer seemed to stun him. His eyes widened involuntarily and beneath the folds of his wrinkled skin involuntarily and beneath the folds of his wrinkled skin above the crisp white col ar of his shirt, his jaw worked as teeth ground. Final y he pursed his lips. ‘2010 you said?’
‘Yup.’
‘You actual y know the future? The next nine years of it?’‘Of course.’
His face drained. ‘Then you … you’re saying you know, for example, what this government’s foreign policy goals might be? Long-term strategic plans? Those kind of things?
’ She smiled. ‘Oh yeah, I know what’s round the corner.’
That silenced him for a long while. She watched the folded paper ut er in his hand.
‘Do you know just how dangerous that makes you to certain people?’ he said softly. ‘I can think of quite a few col eagues in my line of business who’d want to put a bul et in your head right now. Quite a few more who’d want to torture every last lit le fact out of that head of yours … oh, and then put a bul et in it.’
‘The message?’
He nodded his head absently and then handed it over.
‘It might amuse you to know,’ he said, ‘I can recite every word and every last number of the coded section. I’ve known o by heart what’s writ en down on there for the last decade and a half.’ He laughed humourlessly. ‘Like an old poem drummed into your head at school and you never ever forget.’
Maddy reached for it and unfolded the paper. She saw Maddy reached for it and unfolded the paper. She saw handwriting. She presumed it was the old man’s handwriting.
Take this to Archway 9, Wythe Street, Brooklyn, New York on Monday 10 September 2001.
Message: -89-1-9/54-1-5/76-1-2/23-3-5/17-8-4/7-3-7/5-8-3/12-6-9/238-1/3-1-1/56-9-2/12-5-8/67-8-3/92-6-7/112-8-3/234-6-1/45-7-3/30-62/34-8-3/41-5-6/99-7-1/2-6-9/127-8-1/128-7-3/259-1-5/2-7-1/69-15/14-2-66. Key is ‘Magic’. Oh my God, Liam … you’re alive. You made it.
‘Now, the rst bit makes sense to me … clearly designed to make sure the message nds its way to you –’
She cut him short. ‘Where did you get the message from?’
He cocked a wiry grey eyebrow. ‘A fossil, would you believe? A fossil discovered by some boys in 1941. The second of May, to be precise. Along a river near a town cal ed Glen Rose in the state of Texas. It nearly caused a sensation, but … the wartime secret service worked quickly to hush up the nd. And, of course, people were far more concerned about the war then than sil y rumours about mysterious fossil nds.’
He smiled. ‘The place was taken over by secret service goons, and guess what else they found?’
Maddy shrugged.
‘A few months after the message was discovered, they found a human footprint.’ He looked up at her. ‘Oh yes, a genuine human footprint, from the same strata of sedimentary rock. The print of some sort of a running sedimentary rock. The print of some sort of a running shoe.’ He was amused by that. ‘That’s what they cal ed it back then, a running shoe. They didn’t have training shoes back then.’
‘Uh?’
‘A forensic expert matched the print pat ern to the Nike brand last year.’
‘And no one else knows?’
He laughed. ‘Of course not. The boys who original y discovered the artefact … wel –’ he glanced at her – ‘our methods were a lit le uncivilized back then.’
‘Kil ed?’
‘Hmmm … vanished … is the term I think we prefer. And, of course, it turned out a few years later that some other local rockhound had found fossilized human footprints the previous summer … so again there was need for some damage limitation.’
‘Vanished too?’
He shook his head. ‘News of the human footsteps got to the local newspapers before it could be contained. We simply discredited the story. Easily done, the same old boy swore blind his dead mother lived in the at ic and came down once a year to bake his birthday cake.’ He snorted.
‘Complete loon by al accounts. Anyway, go look it up sometime. I’m sure it’s on some conspiracy website somewhere: “Humans Walked with Dinosaurs – Dinosaur Val ey, Texas”.’
She looked down at the message again. ‘So, you know exactly how old the fossil is?’
exactly how old the fossil is?’
He shook his head. ‘No, not exactly. Of course not. It’s identi ed as coming from a seam of sedimentary rock that pre-dates the end of the Cretaceous period. What they cal the K–T boundary. That’s as precise as we can be, I’m afraid. Geology works in aeons and ages, not months or years.’
He gestured at the piece of paper. ‘The numbers … I presume the numbers contain speci c information that would help you retrieve your friend?’
She could deny that, but it was quite obviously the information Liam would have put down there. ‘I hope so,’
she said.
‘But unfortunately it’s encoded,’ he said. ‘Now, the secret service boys who pre-dated my lit le club’s involvement in this mat er identi ed this pret y quickly as some sort of book code. See? The numbers fol ow the page, line, word structure. And about a decade ago, we managed to secure some very expensive time on the Defence Department’s mainframe and ran every single book in the Library of Congress through it.’ He splayed his hands tiredly. ‘We got diddly squat for al our troubles, of course. Which leads me to think, as I sit here with you now, that that was a big waste of time as this probably is a book that hasn’t even been published yet. How about that?
’ Maddy shook her head. ‘I … I don’t know. I real y don’t.
’ She glanced at the last words of the message. ‘Key is She glanced at the last words of the message. ‘Key is
“Magic”.’ She looked up at Cartwright. ‘That’s the clue, right? But I just … I just don’t know … If that real y is a clue to a book, I wouldn’t know which one.’
‘What about your col eague?’
‘Sal?’ She sat up and groaned with the e ort. ‘Is she OK?
Where is she?’
> ‘Oh, she’s just ne,’ he said, waving his hands dismissively. ‘And she’s nearby. Maybe it’s time I had a chat with her.’
‘You won’t hurt her?’
He looked sternly at her as he reached for the piece of paper, got o the stool and picked his jacket up o the cabinet.
‘Because, see, if … uh … if that’s what you’re planning to do,’ Maddy continued, ‘then don’t b-bother.’
‘Oh, let me guess, because the pair of you are heroes and neither one of you is going to talk, huh?’
‘Because –’ she shook her head and laughed nervously –
‘because there’s real y no need. Neither of us are heroes. We’l talk, OK? Just promise me you won’t hurt us.’
CHAPTER 58
65 mil ion years BC, jungle
Kel y struggled up the steep incline, cursing under his breath as low-hanging thorned vines scratched at his face. Ahead he could hear the others pushing their way noisily uphil , the snapping of branches and vines, the clat er of dislodged rocks and soil rol ing downhil .
‘Leonard? Edward?’ he cal ed out.
‘Here,’ gasped Edward.
‘Come on, you need to pick it up … we’re lagging behind the others.’
Their sweat-drenched faces emerged through a curtain of waxy leaves. ‘I’m exhausted,’ gasped Howard. ‘My leg
…’ He failed to nish his words between ragged pu s of air. He dropped uncomfortably to his knees on to an uneven bed of dried cones, twigs and jagged rocks.
‘It’s slowing him down,’ said Edward. ‘His ankle.’
‘I know, I know, but we can’t let the others get too far ahead.’
Around their camp re last night the discussion had turned to why those creatures hadn’t at acked them again, instead choosing to discreetly fol ow them at a distance. The conclusion they’d come to was that they were playing a tactical game, waiting for the group to become spread a tactical game, waiting for the group to become spread out enough to be able to pick them o one at a time. This morning as they’d made their way across the rest of the plain towards the last stretch of the journey, down into the jungle val ey, they’d been almost comical y bunched up. But now, hacking their way through dense foliage, the group was get ing dangerously strung out.
‘Come on, Edward, help me get him up.’
It was then that Kel y caught a glimpse through a gap in the leaves of some dark form fty yards below them.
‘Oh Jesus,’ he hissed. ‘I saw something back there!’
‘What?’
‘Just … just …. there’s no one else behind us, is there?’
Edward shook his head.
Kel y saw it again, a dark form hurrying between the trunks of two trees, then dropping down out of sight. ‘Oh my God! They’re down there!’
Howard was on his feet again.
‘Go! Go!’ snapped Kel y. ‘I’l watch our backs!’
Edward and Howard stumbled forward again, Kel y reversing uphil , keeping his eyes on the downhil as he fumbled his way after them. Again, he saw it. Closer now, the icker of dark olive skin, leaping between the gaps in the leaves. More than one of them, and moving so terrifyingly quietly. More worryingly … they didn’t seem to care that they were being seen.
Oh no.
Now they were in the jungle they were closing the gap. I’m not going to outrun them.
I’m not going to outrun them.
He realized he stood a far bet er chance squaring up to them, perhaps even skewering one of them on the end of his spear. Maybe another kil would buy them another day of caution, enough time to get back over that river to the camp.
‘Come on,’ he hissed. ‘I know you’re down there!’
He heard Edward cal ing down. ‘Mr Kel y?’
‘Go!’ he shouted. ‘I’m just coming!’
The sound of the two boys’ clumsy staggering slowly receded from him until al he could hear was the occasional snap of a branch echoing o the tal stout trunks of the canopy trees.
‘Come on!’ he whispered again. He was surprised that it wasn’t abject terror he was feeling right now, but anger. Rage. He wanted to grab one of those scrawny things and rip its ridiculous marrow-shaped head o . His throat l ed with a dry laugh.
Who do you think you are – Tarzan?
A far cry from his normal life: PR guy, meeting and greeting visitors with his cheesy tanned smile and his nice linen suit and expensive polo shirt. Right now, standing legs apart in trousers ripped o at the knees to make shorts, bare-chested, revealing a pale torso tufted with silver-grey hair and drooping man-boobs that spoke of a lapsed gym membership … right now he felt like that commando character in the lm his sons liked, the one with the alien with a crab face and dreadlocks. Oh yeah, he was ready for them.
Oh yeah, he was ready for them.
‘Come on … you want some of me? Then COME ON!’
As if in answer, in the stil ness of the jungle around him, he heard a soft, high-pitched voice.
‘… Come … on …’
Then ahead of him, as if it had appeared like the Cheshire Cat, only yel ow eyes rst instead of a big grin, there stood one of the creatures, a dozen yards downhil of him, cocking its head and studying him intently. Kel y took several steps downhil , lunging with the tip of his spear. ‘Yeah? So that’s what you things look like up close.’
It recoiled at the sight of the spear, ducking back into a patch of waxy leaves, only to emerge again a moment later.
‘Oh yeah! I can kil you with this spear,’ mut ered Kel y triumphantly. The spear seemed to be warding o the creature, its yel ow eyes warily locked on the sharpened tip of bamboo.
The sound of the others moving through the jungle was al but gone now. He couldn’t a ord to remain like this much longer. He needed a kil pret y soon, and for the rest of those things to hopeful y bolt like rabbits.
‘Come on,’ he said quietly, ‘just you and me. Man versus ugly lizard thing.’
Its jaw snapped open and a dark tongue curled like a serpent inside. ‘… Lizz … arrrrd … ting …’ A surprisingly close approximation of his own voice.
‘So you do impressions, huh?’
‘So you do impressions, huh?’
The creature cocked its head thoughtful y, and it was then, as the creature was distracted, working out how to replicate what he’d just said, that he decided to make his move. He took a quick step and a short leap forward and thrust the spear hard. It caught something soft and the creature apped and ailed on the end of the bamboo, howling with a voice that reminded him of the awful noise a dog can make if you step on its tail.
‘YES!’ he snarled.
First blood. He pul ed the spear back out, leaving a large puncture wound in the creature’s bel y, out of which thick dark blood began to sput er as it ailed in screeching agony on the jungle oor.
He was about to stab the thing again, but he felt the spear yanked roughly out of his hands.
‘Whuh?’
He turned to see a larger hominid, standing ful y erect, maybe a foot tal er than him. It snarled angrily, a rat ling croak in the depth of its throat. He saw others behind it, then became aware of yel ow eyes al around him. The creature held his spear in both of its clawed hands, closely inspecting the long thick shaft, and then nal y the sharpened tip, wet with dark blood. It looked at the tip, cocked its head and then looked down at Kel y, who now no longer felt so much like a commando. His knees buckled beneath him and he found himself in a helpless squat on the jungle oor.
Oh God, oh God …
Oh God, oh God …
‘Run,’ he whimpered. ‘Why aren’t you r-running? Wwhy aren’t you running?’ That was what was meant to happen. If this was a lm, that’s what would happen, right? The weedy o ce guy nal y nds his inner hero and saves the day?
‘I k-kil ed one … so why … w-why aren’t you rrunning?’
The creature holding the spear took a step forward and once more inspected the bloodied tip of the bamboo before tu
rning it round so that it pointed towards Kel y.
‘Oh … no …’ he found himself whimpering. ‘P-please
…’The normal everyday sounds of a Cretaceous jungle, the distant lowing of large ambling leviathans on the far-o plain, the chat er and squeak of smal foraging creatures going about their business, were punctuated by a peculiar sound: the protracted, rat ling scream of a human being. It echoed up through the jungle and out through the tops of the canopy trees, startling ocks of smal anurognathus from their branches and into the air.
CHAPTER 59
2001, New York
‘I’m not saying another thing to you!’ snapped Sal. Cartwright shrugged. ‘Wel , OK. But then I guess I’m not going to show you what I’ve got.’
It was silent in the smal interrogation room, except for the soft hum of an air-conditioner. It was warm and stu y. He casual y loosened his tie.
Sal’s narrowed eyes softened, piqued with curiosity.
‘What? What have you got?’
He smiled. ‘Hmm … now there was me thinking we weren’t going to be talking to each other.’
‘Oh shadd-yah! Please. Just tel me!’
He pursed his lips, giving it some thought. ‘And are you going to tel me the things I want to know?’
She clamped her mouth shut, said nothing.
‘You know? I suspect you probably wil ,’ Cartwright relented. ‘After al , you, me and Maddy al want the same thing: to bring your friend back home safely.’
‘He’s alive? Liam’s alive?’
‘I believe so.’ He nodded and reached into his breast pocket. ‘He decided to write home.’ He passed her the folded sheet of paper and she quickly began to scan the handwriting.
handwriting.
‘Your col eague Maddy and I were discussing it just a few minutes ago. She’s real y rather keen to bring him home too. And you know I’m prepared to help you girls do that. Whatever you want, whatever you need. But …’
She looked up. ‘But?’
He splayed his hands almost apologetical y. ‘That technology in the arch. I’m afraid that’s going to be US
government property now. And we’re going to need your help in guring out how it al works.’