It wasn’t supposed to be possible. The initiator units were buried deep into the spinal cord and could not be removed or tampered with. Each person received their Rest Time date at insertion, which couldn’t be altered without killing the host. Varya knew, she had helped design the technology. Before she’d left Rest Time Corps forever.
The Chief Commissioner was being interviewed; multiple microphones were held in front of her like a bunch of pushy tech flowers.
“It’s early days and we will, of course, be fully investigating this horrendous crime. But I can now reveal that, based on certain marks discovered at the back of the victim’s neck…” A photograph of the back of Ben’s neck seemed to show several small burn marks arranged in a neat circle. “...we do believe his initiator unit may have been tampered with.”
“Shit,” muttered Varya. “Shit, shit, shit.”
The lab tech looked up at her again in concern. Varya considered reassuring her that she was okay.
“I have to go.” Varya stood, leaving her unfinished meal on the table. Pacing out the door and into the empty hallway, she pushed a button on her personal screen to call Zoe. Zoe picked up immediately.
“Zoe?” For a long minute Varya wondered if the line had connected at all. She was met with only silence.
“Zoe, are you there?”
Varya waited, getting ready to hang up and try again.
“I’m here,” whispered Zoe.
“Are you… okay?”
“Daniel’s gone.”
Varya fell against the wall, just managing to keep her legs from collapsing beneath her.
“What?”
“Daniel. The school called. The police are on their way here now. He’s not there. They don’t know where he is. I’m at home. We had journalists calling the hospital all morning about Ben, so I left. I came home. I’m home now.” Zoe was babbling.
“I’m so sorry. Could he have just… Maybe he…”
“The journalist I talked to… he said the police said the people who took Ben are probably the same time thieves that have taken Daniel. It’s on the news. That’s what the doctors thought yesterday… that it was time thieves, when Ben came in. They called the Rest Time Authority. But they said the technology simply doesn’t exist anymore. They said it couldn’t be time thieves. They promised. I don’t understand.”
Varya pressed her fingernails into her palm.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again.
“Is that true? That the technology doesn’t exist?” The uplift at the end of the word, the slight break in her friend’s voice. Varya couldn’t quite tell if it was hope or an accusation.
“Varya?”
“It’s true. It was all destroyed, completely wiped, the last time.”
“But if it’s time thieves, if they’ve rebuilt it, we’ll need it to help Daniel when he comes back. Can’t Rest Time Corps build it, just in case? Can’t they do something?”
A janitor rolled his bucket and mop around the corner and headed towards where Varya stood. She turned and shielded the screen with her hand, lowering her voice. “Zoe, I think we should save this conversation for another…”
“A child is dead, Varya! Ben is dead. And Daniel is… he’s gone. He’s not safe anymore. My little boy isn’t safe.”
Varya’s stomach churned with nausea.
“He’s only nine years old. He’s barely even lived.”
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “But I can’t talk now. I’ll come around soon and…”
“Not now. I don’t want you here. I want you to find something that will help Daniel. Please.”
“Okay. Okay, I’ll try.”
Varya went back to her lunch and sat down heavily on the seat. The screen in the corner continued to buzz its stream of bad news in the world. Staff continued to walk to and fro up and down the hallway, visible through the full-length glass panels installed all down one side of the lunchroom. Food smells—fruit salad, raisin toast—merged until the room started to spin and close in on Varya.
“Hey.”
The light dimmed as she blinked furiously.
“Hey, you okay?”
She took a shallow breath and held it tentatively, then let it out again. She nodded but didn’t feel brave enough to turn to greet Connor yet.
He opened his lunch bag and started to unpack the contents. A cheese sandwich and an apple. The bread and the fruit smelled delightfully fresh. Varya inhaled deeply and caught the scent of Connor’s sweat in her nostrils as well. It was not unpleasant.
“Just feeling a bit off.” She wrapped up the remnants of her own meal and tucked them back into their box. She stood up, too quickly, and leaned forward onto the table, her palms flat, her eyes closed, as a wave of dizziness enveloped her.
Connor watched her, chewing on his sandwich. He swallowed and packed the rest of it away.
“I’ll drive you home.”
“No, I’m…” She was going to tell him she was fine. She was going to tell him she could look after herself, like she had done for years. But she looked into his eyes and saw genuine concern. She tried it on for a moment, savouring what it felt like to be the one who relied upon others, rather than the one who was leant on. It felt good.
“Actually, thank you, that would be great.”
Connor nodded. “Meet me in the car park in ten minutes, then. At your car. We’ll move that box of files from your car to mine. I’m guessing you’ll be wanting it tonight.” He looked up at the screen in the corner pointedly. It was showing a picture of a serious-looking government official, a thumbnail of Ben’s smiling face permanently floating in the corner. Varya looked at the screen and then back at Connor, frowning.
“Ten minutes,” he said. Then he left.
Chapter seventeen
Marisa
On the next floor up, an apartment door swung open. Marisa braced herself from her seated position outside Varya’s door. She heard the door swing shut, the click echoing down the painted concrete stairwell. Stomp, stomp, stomp. Marisa looked up.
“Afternoon.” She held one hand up to the white-haired woman who stood, left foot still hovering uncertainly over the last step. The woman pursed her lips and fingered the ruffle that rippled down the centre of her shirt, neatly hiding the buttons. Apparently deciding that Marisa wasn’t an immediate threat, she continued her journey across the landing and down the next flight of stairs.
Marisa chewed her fingernail and listened hopefully for any familiar ascending footsteps.
“Ah, stuff it,” she muttered, jumping up and pulling her screen from her back pocket. She tapped and swiped at it a few times, then held the device up to Varya’s door. After a moment, the lock clicked. Marisa grinned and pushed the door open gently.
Inside, she moved quietly through the entrance hall, touching the hall stand absentmindedly as she went. There were no pictures on the wall. The carpet was dark grey, the only warmth. Everything else was white. Not for the first time, Marisa mused that her employer had managed to recreate something like a home laboratory. A few more steps through the living room and she turned left to the small kitchen.
“Hello, old friend,” she greeted the coffee machine. She took a moment to breathe in the ground coffee before she scooped it out and packed it into the filter. A little jolt of pleasure shot down through the pit of her belly as she wrenched the handle into place and pushed the button. A mechanical whir started up and she waited, mesmerised, for the dark, hot liquid to stream out of the filter and into the waiting cup.
Marisa shrugged her jacket off and sat on a kitchen chair, never taking her eyes off that stream. Even with the hefty commission Varya paid her for selling the time tabs to the entitled wealthy, she couldn’t afford to buy more than a single cup of coffee for herself each week. Besides, she preferred to save her own money for her early retirement. She wouldn’t need time tabs. She’d work hard now and then have more time than she knew what to do with by the time she turned fifty-five. That was her plan, anywa
y. She didn’t intend to ever have a Rest Time Ceremony. She planned to throw away the calendar in her final months and, with a bit of luck, keel over while sipping a martini on a tropical beach somewhere. As she removed the cup of steaming coffee from the grille, she noticed the way the skin on the back of her hand creased more readily now. Not quite crêpey yet, but almost like soft scales.
“Best hurry up with those savings, woman,” she chided herself.
By the time the apartment’s front door opened again, Marisa was on to her second cup and starting to feel a little jittery.
The duo that padded down the hallway was silent and tense. Marisa poked her head out of the kitchen and watched in fascination as Varya led a stranger through the door. She’d never seen Varya let anyone other than herself in this apartment before.
Varya paced into the kitchen, dumped her bag, and sat, staring at Marisa’s coffee. She chewed her lip and fidgeted. Marisa turned to see the man hovering in the doorway, holding a large box. He raised his knee and hunched over the box to shift it.
“Just over here, maybe?” he asked nobody in particular.
Marisa shrugged and turned back to Varya, frowning. She ignored the dull thump of the box hitting the floor and reached out to touch Varya’s hand with a single finger.
“Hey, you’ve got coffee,” said Connor, his excitement overcoming his reticence.
“Specially imported on the black market all the way from Java, just for me.” Marisa held her empty cup aloft. The corner of Varya’s mouth twitched slightly and she raised an eyebrow.
“Oh.” Connor was already running his hands over the machine lightly, inhaling the aroma from the spent granules. “Do you mind if I…?”
“Knock yourself out, kid,” said Marisa generously. She watched as Connor gripped the handle and tapped out the spent coffee grinds. She caught the heady whiff of the new granules as he opened the packet and scooped out more. Marisa dipped her head to face Varya’s.
“Bit young for you, isn’t he?” she muttered.
Varya stood and made to walk past her. She placed a heavy hand on Marisa’s shoulder and squeezed. “Be nice. He’s from work. He’s here to help.”
Marisa paused, then continued in a low voice. “I saw the news about Ben. How are you holding up?”
Varya looked directly into her eyes then, fear the main message. She shook her head and pulled her hand away.
“Hey, is this…?” Connor started to say.
Varya moved with lightning speed and snatched the black square out of Connor’s hands. She placed it carefully on the table and bent her knees as she lowered herself slowly back into the chair. She cupped her hands protectively over the device. No more than an inch thick, the surface was smooth apart from a tiny green light which blinked at regular intervals.
Connor stared at the device. Marisa stared at Connor.
“A guy from work? Who the hell is he really, Var’?”
“My name’s Connor,” Connor clarified.
“He’s Professor Langford’s nephew,” explained Varya. She’d asked him the same question herself in the car on the way over. “He used to be a doctor.”
Marisa nodded. “Ah, so he knows…”
Varya turned to face Connor, keeping her hands around the device.
“I don’t know what he knows,” she said.
Marisa cocked her head to the side and flared her eyes.
“So, Connor, nephew of Langford, what do you know? Enlighten us.”
The stream of liquid coffee emitting from the machine ended with a faint hiss. Connor turned and picked up the cup, cradling it in both hands before taking a small sip.
“I know that’s a Time Lock stabiliser. And I know that it’s active. Which means there’s a Time Lock somewhere nearby.”
Marisa squirmed and sat up, frowning at Varya. Varya moved slowly, apparently engrossed in inspecting the Time Lock stabiliser.
“Janet said you would need help with some research you’re doing, something about the Time Chips. She didn’t say exactly what, just asked me to…” He trailed off and looked sharply between them.
“She asked you to look out for Varya, didn’t she?” said Marisa.
Connor nodded.
“I don’t need looking out for,” said Varya.
“Okay.”
Varya held the device flat in the palm of her hand and carried it over to the shelf above the coffee machine. She placed it carefully next to a small cactus, then stood back to gaze at the montage.
“Don’t ever touch it again.”
“Okay.”
Marisa cocked her head to one side. “So, doctor boy. How can you help us? You good at sales or manufacturing?”
Connor blanched and shook his head slightly.
“I…”
“Marisa,” Varya warned.
Marisa put her cup down and opened her hands wide, leaning back in her chair.
“What? He said Langford sent him to help. What else is he going to help with?”
They both turned to Connor expectantly.
“I’m not sure. Without knowing what it is you need, what that stabiliser is for…”
He indicated the device with a flick of his head.
“Nah-ah,” Marisa laughed, a slight menace in her tone. “You first. What kind of a doctor were you?”
He paused and lifted his cup to his mouth again. “This is very good coffee. Where did you say it was imported from?”
Varya rubbed at a knot in her shoulder.
“I’m guessing you didn’t diagnose coughs and colds,” she said.
Connor put the cup down on the stone bench with a clink and sighed softly.
“I was attached to the Rest Time Corps. I worked with the kids who were returned by the time thieves.” He paused. “And their families, afterwards.”
Marisa gave a low whistle.
“Bullshit,” said Varya. “I would remember you. That section of the Corps wasn’t that big.”
Connor snorted. “I had a Y chromosome, and my name wasn’t Sebastian. Of course, you didn’t notice me.”
Marisa laughed loudly, slapping her palm on the table. “Oh, that’s brilliant. I’m going to remember that one.”
Varya glared at her. Marisa gave one last hoot, then cleared her throat and fell silent again.
“I was out in the field, mostly. You were in the labs.” Connor paused. “Sebastian would remember me.”
“Sebastian’s not here,” said Varya.
Marisa leaned forward. “So, Connor, tell me more about Sebastian.” She waved her hand in the air at Varya. “Lover-girl here won’t say a word. I figure he must be gorgeous.”
Connor opened his mouth to laugh but stopped when he saw Varya’s thunderous expression. He cleared his throat.
“Maybe some other time.”
“We don’t have time for gossip,” Varya snapped. “Daniel has been abducted.” She looked from Connor to Marisa and back again. Marisa was opening and closing her mouth. That wasn’t information that had been shared on any news bulletin she’d seen.
“Marisa can fill you in on the Time Lock.” She paused, holding her left hand with her right, trying to stop the shaking.
“You’re sure?” said Marisa finally.
“Yes. We may need his help.” Satisfied, Varya walked out of the room, turning left down the hallway.
Marisa stared into her cup, trying to get the story straight in her head. Where to begin? She’d kept Varya’s secrets for five years but had never had to explain them to someone else.
“Who’s Daniel?” Connor lowered himself into a chair opposite her.
She nodded, thankful for the direction. “Good idea. Let’s start with something simple. Daniel is the son of Varya’s friend, Zoe.”
“Okay. And we think he’s probably been abducted by the same person who took that other kid?”
Marisa nodded. “Ben Williams.”
Connor glanced up at the flashing black box above the coffee machine. The pace of the blinking
increased momentarily, then dropped back to its previous rhythm.
“I’ve read about Time Locks,” he said, “I’ve seen pictures of the prototype stabilisers. They were developed by the Corps during the time thief abductions years ago, to buy time. Scientists hoped they could be used to hold the children in a sort of stasis for as long as it took to develop a method of reversing the drain of their years.”
Marisa nodded. She’d never really given the genesis of the Time Locks a lot of thought, but it made sense. Back then, cryogenics was only used on dead bodies by the mega wealthy who believed they would be brought back to life at some point in the future. Marisa rolled her eyes. Why they thought anyone would bother bringing them back to life was beyond her. But massive wealth did strange things to people’s perceptions. Somewhere out there was a freezer still full of bodies waiting to be regenerated at some point in the future.
“The Time Lock stabiliser development was abandoned after the time thieves were apprehended. The the research project was shut down. And yet, here it is, what appears to be a fully functioning model.” His gaze shifted from the black box to Marisa. “So, who’s in the Time Lock?”
Marisa’s eyes snapped up. She pursed her lips, then sighed.
“Varya’s son, Kir. And her mother, Elena.”
“But he’s dead.” Connor blinked fast, stunned. “Kir… he died. Years ago, didn’t he? I mean, that’s why she and Sebastian split up, soon after their division of the Rest Time Corps was disbanded.”
Marisa just stared at him.
“He’s not dead,” he said slowly.
Marisa shook her head. “Nope. Alive and chasing birds like any self-respecting four-year-old.” She frowned. “Except he’s kind of closer to nine years old now. But he looks four. It’s complicated.”
“Yes, yes, of course. He’s in stasis so he doesn’t age but he still lives so his mind develops. But…” He looked up at Marisa. “Does his mind develop? Physically?”
Stealing Time Page 7