George and the Ship of Time

by Lucy Hawking

  “How are there saber-toothed tigers?” I thought this was the future, not the past! he thought.

  “They were grown in a laboratory from an excavated fragment of frozen DNA,” said Atticus. “In the old days. But then, when science became illegal, all the labs got shut down, so the animals escaped and now they live wild in the forest.”

  “ ’Scuse me!” said Hero. “That’s so not what happened!”

  “And you know that how?” said Atticus.

  “My guardian is the Minister of Science for Eden,” said Hero, obviously expecting Atticus to be impressed. “So I know quite a bit, actually.”

  Atticus looked suspiciously at Hero at this news. “Then why are you here, in the Swamp?” he said. “If your guardian is so important in Eden, why are you hanging out in my forest?”

  George jumped in. “We’re not spies,” he said, remembering what Boltzmann had said earlier. “We’re just two kids who’ve gotten lost in the Swamp and we need your help.”

  “Where are you going?” said Atticus.

  “Na-h Alba,” said George.

  “Wonder Academy,” said Hero at the same moment.

  “Huh,” said Atticus, eyeing them both up. “You guys really don’t seem to have this.”

  “No,” said George humbly. “We don’t.” He expected Hero to contradict him, but when he looked over at her she was nodding in agreement.

  “It’s been the weirdest journey of my life,” she confided to Atticus. “And I don’t think George has any idea what he’s doing.”

  George felt a bit stung, especially after his attempts to protect her. But he had to admit that Hero was right. He had no clue what he was doing or where to go next. Added to that, he didn’t feel very well. A bit woozy and a bit sick.

  “There’s only one person in this forest who can sort this out,” declared Atticus.

  “Who?” said George, hoping it wouldn’t be the Child Hunter.

  “My mom,” said Atticus decisively. Hero looked blank.

  “It’s like his guardian,” explained George. “Sort of. Remember? When someone is born, rather than, um, hatched.”

  “Oh,” said Hero. “Same thing, different name?”

  “Pretty much,” said George.

  “Where does this ‘mom’ live?” asked Hero.

  “At my home,” said Atticus. “I’m going to take you to my home.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After trudging along across a series of dizzying walkways, jumping from branch to branch, and at one point even taking something that looked like a zip wire across the forest, Atticus finally came to a stop. It was much warmer now, higher up in the trees where a little light and some heat from the sun filtered through the murky clouds. George’s jumpsuit had dried out entirely, but his leg still throbbed where the tiger had lashed out at him. Gymnast Hero had proved to be a remarkably good traveler and was getting more cheerful by the minute.

  “What now?” she said brightly. “Where are we?”

  “This,” said Atticus, gesturing ahead of him, “is my home!”

  In front of them lay an extraordinary structure. At the height of a small skyscraper, they could see what looked like an encampment built over several stories.

  “What is it?” said George. “And how does it stay up?”

  But, even as he asked, he saw the answer. This treetop dwelling had been constructed from the remains of a building. He looked up at long steel joists and concrete trunks, the skeleton of what had stood here before. Trees had grown right through it in places and, where the original floor must once have been, split tree trunks formed the horizontal platform on which people, dressed like Atticus, were going about their daily business.

  On one side, George saw a fire with a group of smaller kids gathered around it. There were a few adults, who looked like they were telling the children a story. The kids all seemed entranced. In other places people were doing all sorts of things: mending the structure, making clothes, preparing food. It was a strange haven from all that George had seen since he had arrived in the future. It reminded him of when, many years before, he and his parents had lived in an encampment where they tried to recreate life in the Iron Age. But, when George lived there with his mom and dad, they hadn’t had books or steel joists or talked about DNA.

  “Is that . . . ?” said Hero, interrupting his thoughts. “Is that—fire? I mean, real fire?” She looked thrilled.

  “Of course it is,” said Atticus. “How could there be fire that isn’t real?”

  “I’ve never seen fire before,” confessed Hero. “I’ve only seen it virtually.”

  “Well, don’t touch the fire unless you want to get a real burn! Before we go in, I have to warn you—people from outside are not allowed here.”

  “Why not?” said Hero, sounding hurt.

  “People from outside mean danger in our culture,” said Atticus. “But my mother is the chief. And I know she’ll want to meet you!”

  Two of the adults had spotted them and were coming over.

  “Atticus,” the first grown-up said smoothly. “Your mother has been asking for you! We were about to send out a search party. We heard that the tiger had been sighted and she was worried.”

  “No need,” said Atticus. George realized that Atticus didn’t much like this grown-up. She did have a very severe face and hooded eyes. “Look! I’m baaaack!”

  “And who are these?” said the other grown-up, who was short and round with small eyes.

  “Just some friends,” said Atticus, faux casually. He didn’t seem to like her much either. Behind the two grown-ups, others were assembling and the mood was changing. The adults with the kids quickly gathered them up and moved them farther away. Everything seemed to go very quiet.

  “They are outsiders,” said the woman with the hooded eyes. “And you know the rules.”

  “I want to talk to my mother,” said Atticus defiantly. “She decides the rules.”

  “Your mother trusts us to make sure our community stays safe,” said the shorter woman. “You know that, Atticus. You know that she asked us to deal with you—last time . . .” She trailed off, but the menace was unmistakable.

  Hero shuffled behind George.

  “Where is my mother?” demanded Atticus.

  “She’s gone up to the higher level.”

  “Come on.” Atticus turned to George and Hero. “Let’s go and find my mom.”

  “You cannot take those two up there!” said the first woman angrily. “Only warriors who have risen through the levels can go there. Just because you are her son does not mean that you can break the rules.”

  “They can’t stay,” said the second woman decisively. “They must leave—immediately. And we will have to decide whether or not to strike camp and move on, now that you have given away our location. This is a dangerous time, as you know. The tiger is on the move and we hear reports that the Child Hunter is in the forest. If he caught you or found our colony, all our young people would be in peril. And it would be their fault!” She pointed at George and Hero. “They have brought him here.”

  “They can’t leave by themselves,” said Atticus, his jaw set firmly. “They don’t know the forest and it’s dangerous.”

  “Feel free to be exiled along with your friends,” said the woman with the hooded eyes. “We will protect this community by any means necessary.”

  “I want to talk to my mom,” insisted Atticus. “She tells me what to do. Not you.”

  The two grown-ups exchanged glances. “Your mother is not well,” one of them said. “She gave orders not to be disturbed. We will send these two back into the forest and keep you securely until she recovers enough to decide what to do with you.”

  George gulped. This wasn’t exactly a welcome committee.

  Behind him, Hero tugged on George’s sleeve and whispered plaintively, “They don’t want us here. George, why don’t we just go? We can find the way to Wonder ourselves. We can use the Digitizer to get there . . .” She trailed
off.

  But, at that moment, a voice floated out over the heads of the gathering grown-ups. “Wait!” it said. It was frail but carried the unmistakable tone of authority. The grown-ups parted and a woman, leaning heavily on a stick, walked through. She had long silver hair and a clever face with Atticus’s brilliant green eyes.

  “Mom!” said Atticus in delight, running forward. Two of the nearby grown-ups reached out to stop him, but she waved them away with her stick.

  “Leave!” she ordered all the others as Atticus hugged her. “Go back to your work.”

  “But—great leader and empress of the earth, rivers, beasts, and birds,” said the first woman, bowing and rubbing her hands together. She was smiling slyly at the same time. “Atticus has brought outsiders into our colony. According to our rules, they must all be banished now.”

  “Atticus has committed a grave crime,” added the second woman, “O leader of the trees, forests, skies, planets, and—”

  “Yes, that’s enough of that,” snapped Atticus’s mom. “I’ve told you I don’t like these ridiculous titles you keep dreaming up. I was much happier when you all called me by my name.”

  “Oh, but, infinitely wise and wonderful ruler of our hearts and our thoughts,” persisted the tall woman, “the people wanted you to be above them—they didn’t want you to exist at their level. They asked that you guide not just their daily lives but—”

  “Enough!” ordered Atticus’s mother. “There are three children here, and at least two of them look tired and hungry.”

  “I’m hungry too!” piped up Atticus hopefully.

  “You’re always hungry,” his mother said, with the briefest of fond smiles. It was, George thought, just the sort of thing his mother used to say to him. “I will take them to my level and we will discuss what to do next.”

  Everyone looked horrified. “But, Madam Matushka . . .” bleated the smaller woman. “We constructed the system of levels to make sure—”

  “I said—enough!” Atticus’s mom beckoned to George and Hero in a manner that they would not have disobeyed even if they’d wanted to. “This way.”

  They clambered up a series of levels until they were right among the highest trees. The children were led over to a covered part of the platform made from wide leaves and branches, with fur hides laid out around a small fire. As they settled down, shadowy figures brought small hollowed-out gourds full of pieces of food. Atticus grabbed a bowl with glee and started crunching on the contents.

  “Yum!” he said with his mouth full. “Fried locusts! My favorite protein!”

  Hero looked appalled, and paused with a small dark morsel in her hand. She put it carefully back in the bowl. She took off her backpack and rummaged around in it until she found one of the freeze-dried bars, which she nibbled instead.

  “Boy,” said Matushka. “Where are you headed? Where are you taking this girl?”

  “Na-h Alba,” said George. “Do you know it?” He had totally forgotten that Hero still hadn’t been updated on the change of destination.

  “Yes, we have all heard of it,” she said. “It is the only place left to be free. But we are stuck here and have no real information, so all we get are rumors. Who has sent you on this impossible journey?”

  “Nimu,” he said, figuring that honesty was the best bet now. “That’s Hero’s guardian. And a robot—except I think he might be a supercomputer in disguise. They said we had to get to na-h Alba. Or else.” George, who had been shivering for some time, now crouched close to the fire to warm himself.

  “Your leg!” said Atticus’s mom, noticing his chattering teeth and the blood on his jumpsuit. “What happened?”

  “The tiger scratched me,” he said. “It’s nothing, just a graze.” But blood was seeping out of the wound and down his leg.

  “Quickly,” said Matushka. Gently she peeled away his jumpsuit to reveal the raw scrape of the tiger’s claws. “I must treat you before that gets infected,” she went on, taking a small vial from around her neck. “Sit still.” She upended the vial and poured it into the wound. George watched in fascination.

  “What is it?” he said.

  “This is the oldest antibiotic known to the Earth,” said Atticus’s mom. “It’s very rare and precious—we can get very little of it now. But it will heal you.”

  “Dragon’s blood,” gloated Atticus. “From a Komodo dragon. It’s the most valuable thing we have!” George wondered where they’d gotten it from. Could there really be Komodo dragons now living in what was once Manchester? Had they escaped from a lab—or perhaps a zoo?

  As if reading George’s mind, Matushka said, “I see from your face that our world is full of surprises for you.” She winced as she spoke.

  “Mom, are you okay?” said Atticus. “You’re not getting better.”

  “I cannot get better now,” said his mom. “In the old days I could have been cured. But not now.” She leaned back and closed her eyes briefly.

  George had been trying to work it out. “You know about science,” he said. “You know about antibiotics and DNA and protein, and probably loads more things. But you live in trees and you have no technology!”

  It reminded him of his parents, who had tried to live off-grid. Was this the life his parents had idealized? Or was it something very different?

  “Did you want to live like this?” he asked. “Or did you have to?”

  “We live outside the system,” replied Matushka. “When the corporations became so powerful that they were able to force people to live under their rules, we rebelled. That’s when we went into exile. But we try and keep the scientific knowledge of our parents and grandparents by teaching it down the generations.”

  Hero was hovering, half standing up, half sitting down. She looked like she was going somewhere. “I thought we were going to Wonder Academy,” she said slowly. “I thought we left the Bubble to go to Wonder. Not to this other place.”

  “Wonder Academy!” marveled Atticus’s mom. “The Bubble! I’ve not heard those words for a lifetime!”

  Hero looked baffled. “If you’ve heard of them,” she said, “then why does Atticus live here and not in the Bubble like me?”

  “Atticus lives with me,” said Matushka, “because I’m his mother. He is my family so we stay together. That’s why the colony exists—in Eden, it’s illegal for children to stay with their parents and we couldn’t accept that.”

  Hero opened her mouth to respond but shut it again. It seemed she had so many questions, she didn’t know which one to ask first.

  “But this is still Eden, isn’t it?” said George. “Here, in the Swamp?”

  “Yeah, kind of,” said Atticus. “But the Edenites don’t come here. Much. Maybe a Child Hunter to snatch kids so our colony can’t grow. But the rest don’t dare. Their robots don’t work so well in all that mud, so for now we’re safe.”

  George thought of the spaceship in the skies, the one that belonged to the Dump regime. Was it there to spy on people like these, or perhaps to aim firepower at them from above? He realized that this place might not be much safer than the open desert.

  “Who are you people?” asked George.

  “Rebels,” said Matushka. “Clever people who wouldn’t accept Dump’s ‘vision’ for the world but who, after the Great Disruption, left it too late to get out. Many scientists and engineers joined us, artists, musicians, teachers. People who wanted to live with their families, who didn’t want their lives to be run for them.”

  George gasped. “Have you—? Are there—? Can there . . . ?” He started again. “I’m looking for my mom and dad. They’re called Daisy and Terence. Do you know them?”

  He looked pleadingly at Matushka and Atticus, willing them to say yes. But Matushka gently shook her head.

  “No, I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching out to hold his hand.

  The fire blurred as George’s eyes filled with tears.

  “One day Eden will come for us,” said Matushka. “We are all living on borrowe
d time.”

  “No we’re not!” said Atticus hotly. “We’re warriors and they will never capture us!”

  “And there is the threat within,” said Matushka wearily. “I have led these people for years but the colony is changing. Some people are starting to want more than others, to be important, to have titles and all that nonsense. That will be the end of us. Now they want me to form a ‘corporation’ of our own!”

  “You didn’t tell me!” said Atticus.

  “Because I want you to enjoy as much of your life as you can before it gets too serious. But now you have to know. Because it is your future that these idiots, with their bad decisions, have put in jeopardy.” She closed her eyes and didn’t open them again for a few minutes.

  The fire burned brighter now that the sun was going down.

  Matushka opened her eyes again. She lay still among the fur blankets and her voice was as low as the rustle of nighttime leaves in the forest. “Do not go to Wonder Academy, my child. Do not go to that place.”

  “Why not?” said Hero.

  George registered that Hero’s voice came from farther away than before, but his mind was so full that he didn’t give any thought as to why that might be.

  “No one survives Wonder Academy,” said Matushka. “No one escapes. Not anymore.”

  “What’s Wonder Academy, Mom?” asked Atticus. He’d clearly never heard of it. “Would they teach me how to be a warrior?”

  “Wonder is hell on Earth,” replied Matushka.

  “No it isn’t!” said Hero’s distant voice. “It’s the place where we learn how to become leaders!”

  “Why do you think all the clever kids in Eden disappear?” Matushka continued calmly. “How do you think the regime has managed to stay ahead of the machines all this time? Where are they getting the raw intelligence from, the brainpower that they certainly don’t have themselves?”

  A whisper came through the darkness from Hero. “But . . . my friends went there! My friends from the Bubble . . . How do you know?” Her voice sounded as though it was being tossed around on the breeze.