“I’m so sorry,” was what she finally settled on.
Zoe’s normally blush skin was a sickly shade of white. She held her palms over her kneecaps and rocked herself gently.
“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s probably just gone to a friend’s house,” said Zoe, her face blank.
Varya stood tentatively and crept the three steps from her chair to the couch Zoe sat on, watching for signs of rejection. There were none. There was no reaction at all. Varya covered Zoe’s hand with her own.
“I can help.”
Zoe stopped rocking and looked up at Varya.
“If it’s… what we fear. I can help.”
“You can reverse the time drain?” asked Zoe hopefully. She became suddenly animated and snatched her hand back. “If you can do that, then why didn’t you tell me, why didn’t you help the other child before he…”
“No, Zoe,” said Varya quickly, shaking her head firmly. “I can’t do that.”
Zoe slumped back into the cushions and closed her eyes.
“Then, what?” she whispered. “What can you possibly do to help my baby?”
Varya frowned and dug her own fingers against her kneecaps, trying to decide how to begin.
Zoe’s eyes flew open. “Of course! The time tabs. You can give him time tabs. But he would need an awful lot. But I suppose we could keep giving them to him until we can figure out a way to reverse the drain. Do you think it would hurt him at all? Wouldn’t he be confused?”
Varya put her hand on Zoe’s arm and shook gently.
“Zoe, slow down. What are you talking about?”
Zoe stopped and stared. “The time tabs. The ones you use.”
Varya pulled back. “How do you know about them?”
Zoe laughed. “There have been so many times you’ve walked in here looking half-dead, then disappeared up the hallway for five minutes, only to come back looking perky and refreshed. At first, I thought you might be into drugs, but then I realised… Well, you know.” She shrugged. “Your background, and I’d heard rumours. It was obvious.”
Zoe laughed again at the expression of alarm on Varya’s face. It was her turn to comfort Varya with a hand over hers.
“It was obvious to me. Because I know you. And, naturally, I’m a genius.” She grinned. “I’m sure nobody else knows.” She searched Varya’s face then. “Do they?”
She took a deep breath. “Zoe, there are some things I have to tell you.”
Zoe’s face fell again, as though she’d just remembered that Daniel was missing. She started to babble. “You know, I’ve often wanted to ask you for a few tabs, just to help me get some rest after a night shift, so I can do mornings with Daniel instead of…” Varya watched as realisation and shock closed Zoe’s face down again.
“Yes, I could give Daniel time tabs. But that wouldn’t be enough. I still don’t know how to reverse the time drain. That will take longer, and he needs to be looked after. If we used time tabs, he’d need to come out of stasis to eat, talk to others. He’s too young to be in stasis by himself. He needs someone to look after him.”
“I could look after him,” said Zoe. “I’ll go in with him.”
Varya shook her head. “No, it doesn’t work like that. You can’t go into a time tab stasis with another person. They’re not that sophisticated. And besides, time tabs are illegal.” She smiled slightly. “It would be far too obvious if you both kept glitching every couple of minutes.”
“Glitching?”
Varya waved her arm. “Sorry, time science lingo.”
They both fell silent.
“Maybe he just ran away. Maybe he’s just hit that age where he wants a day or two to himself. Kids do that sometimes, you know.” Zoe pressed each fingernail into her thumb, one by one, as though playing piano on her own hands to a song only she could hear. By the time she pressed her pinkie fingernails in there was a large red welt on each thumb. She started back at the pointer finger again, harder this time.
“I don’t have the technology to reverse a time drain,” Varya started quietly. “But I can keep him safe until I figure out how to develop it.”
“Okay,” said Zoe.
Varya put her hands over both of Zoe’s, to stop her causing herself any more pain.
“I’ll figure it out, I promise.”
Zoe stilled but continued to stare at her hands. “Okay.”
“You want me to stay?”
Zoe nodded once.
“Cup of tea?”
She nodded again.
Varya stood and stretched. She moved into the kitchen and started to gather cups and a box of tea, then pulled out her device and sent a message to Marisa.
“We need to find Sebastian. Can you start looking?”
While she waited for the reply, she put a green teabag in the first mug.
“He’s literally just arrived at your place. I can totally take the credit still, right?”
Varya swallowed hard while she added water to the tea. Just one mug. She left the other empty.
“Tell him I’m coming.”
She carried her device and the steaming mug over to Zoe and put it on the table on top of a coaster. She didn’t sit down. Zoe looked up at her.
“I have to go now. To prepare for when Daniel returns.”
Zoe nodded. “What if he doesn’t come back? What if it’s not… them? What if some garden-variety murderer has taken him and we never get him back?”
“He’s coming back, Zoe. And when he does, we’ll be ready.” Crouching down in front of her friend she looked at her intently. Zoe’s eyes flicked up, then away. They were bright with barely contained moisture. “Daniel is going to be okay.”
Zoe nodded silently, swallowing furiously. “Okay,” she whispered.
Chapter twenty-one
Varya stood at her own apartment door and stared at it. White paint covered the steel structure. The bolts were obvious if you knew where to look, though the paintwork was such high gloss it mostly shined to cover the truth of the door. It couldn’t be broken down. It had no lock that could be picked, not even by Marisa. This door had kept her safe, or so she told herself.
She held her breath and pressed her hand against the cool plate, felt it tingle with static as she waited for the scanner to do its work, waited for the click and the whoosh.
She glided down the hallway to stand at the kitchen door. She blinked quickly. The sight of her ex-husband felt like a physical blow. Not a bad one, not wounded. But winded, certainly—a breathless blow.
Sebastian turned to face her, and she thought she heard her name come from his moving lips. She thought maybe she said his name as well, but later she realised there was just silence. Was it his hair? Blonde, reaching just below his ears, in need of a good brush but clean. His height? He seemed to take up the whole kitchen with his body. Middle age had been kind to him, she saw. A few lines around his eyes, a softer belly. But he was still strong, still stood tall. He gave her a slight smile, then he did say her name.
“Varya.”
She wondered if the others heard him. There was a ringing in her ears, she felt a little dizzy.
“Varya? Are you okay?” After a moment she realised Marisa was talking to her, a worried expression on her face. She sat down suddenly.
“I… yes. Yes, I’m fine. I think I’m just a little tired.”
Marisa held her gaze for a moment. It seemed to Varya as though she was transferring her own confidence and strength through that look. She breathed in and drank in her friend’s gift. The star-struck schoolgirl was gone in that instant. She nodded her thank you imperceptibly to Marisa. Marisa drew back slightly.
“Sebastian,” said Varya. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
Sebastian seemed to feel the shift in the room and cleared his throat.
“I need to talk to you,” Sebastian started, glancing at Marisa questioningly. “Alone.”
“Marisa can stay,” said Varya.
“I know everything.” Marisa wa
ved her hands in circles and spoke the last word with a breathy quality.
“You’ve seen the news I assume.”
“The time theft? Yes,” Varya replied simply.
“I’m here in an official capacity.” He shifted his weight from one leg to another and crossed his arms.
“Am I a suspect?”
“No, of course not. But you could be in danger.”
Varya frowned. “Isn’t everyone in danger? Besides, I’m not a child. They won’t be interested in me.”
“We have reason to believe the transference of time from the abducted child didn’t work as expected. They may take more children and they’ll need someone with the expertise to assist them.”
Varya laughed. “Sounds like you’re in more danger than me. As far as most of the world is concerned, I’m just a lab assistant at a medical research facility.”
Sebastian glared at her. “And Marisa here? What’s her role in all this? Confidante, accomplice in your little illicit time tabs distribution business?” He paused, looking from one to the other, waiting for a reaction. “Lover?”
“Employee,” Marisa clarified coldly. She stared hard at Varya. “I guess we haven’t flown under the radar as well as we hoped. And yes, there are some members of the community, at all levels, who would associate me with time manipulation skills and abilities.”
“Which makes you a target for the thieves as well,” said Sebastian.
“Not as well. Instead.” Varya slumped visibly, guilt suddenly pressing in on her. “Marisa doesn’t have any public association with me. I just manufacture, she… delivers.”
Sebastian inhaled slowly, clearly angered. “We’ll deal with that later. The profile of your clients has assured your protection from the Rest Time Authority. I don’t see that changing. But right now, it sounds like you’re both potential targets for the time thieves.” Varya started to protest but Sebastian raised his hand to silence her. “Marisa visits here regularly, yes?” Both women nodded. “So, anyone could have been watching. You’re both at risk.”
“Sebastian, seriously, we’re fine. If that’s the only reason you’re here, to try to play the role of grand protector, you can leave now. We can look after ourselves.”
“I think… the Authority has recommended… that you should relocate until the perpetrators are apprehended.” He placed a hand on each hip, relying on his official capacity to hold sway. It didn’t work.
“Yeah, we’re not leaving, but thanks,” said Marisa firmly.
“I can’t force you.” He pulled his device out of his pocket and tapped briefly on the screen. He held it up to Varya. “But take my contact details, in case you change your mind.”
Varya stared at him. For five years she had successfully walked in the shadows, avoided confrontation, dealt with only the people she wanted to. Now she felt assaulted by the sheer number of people who seemed to be flooding in across her moat. She pressed her finger on her own device for a second then held it up and nodded.
Sebastian tapped again and slipped it back in his pocket. “I’ll show myself out.”
Marisa and Varya were left alone, each releasing a sigh of relief.
“Five years, right? You haven’t seen him in five years?”
“That’s right.”
“And that’s all he has to say to you? Doesn’t ask after your welfare, what you’ve been doing all this time?”
“To be fair, the whole purpose of his visit was specifically to enquire after our welfare.”
Marisa stood and moved over to the stove. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No, I know,” Varya admitted.
“Have you told Elena?”
Varya nodded.
“Yes, it was Mum’s idea, to take in Daniel.”
Marisa raised an eyebrow.
Varya batted her doubt away with her hand. “She offered, anyway.”
“Now what? We just wait?”
She nodded. “We wait.”
“You’ll need to figure out how to reverse the drain.”
“It’s less a matter of figuring it out and more a matter of finding the technology.”
“It exists?”
“Yes, it exists.”
“But I thought it was destroyed years ago? Didn’t you all have to destroy it? It should be gone.” Marisa sounded uncharacteristically panicked.
“The time transfer tech was supposed to be destroyed as well,” said Varya quietly. “It wasn’t. It’s a lot to ask of a person to destroy a major scientific breakthrough simply because a few people decided to use it for evil.”
“Yes, and dozens of children died because of it,” said Marisa angrily.
“Hundreds of people die each year on the roads, but we don’t decide to destroy all the cars.”
“The roads aren’t deliberately trying to kill them, though.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one. Guns. People kill each other in the thousands, usually for their own benefit. Firearms technology has continued to be developed. They haven’t all been destroyed.”
“No, but we need that technology for defence as well. It keeps us safe.”
Varya smiled. “Yes, it does. And how are the Rest Time Chips any different?”
“Ugh, let’s argue about this later, I know I’m right. I’ve got a ladies’ soirée this afternoon that I need to get ready for. I can’t stand those high and mighty rich people and their first world problems.”
Varya watched as Marisa disappeared through the kitchen archway and returned a moment later with a bottle of Sapphiric Gin. The sun caught the purple glass as she moved towards the cabinet and flashed a colourful shadow across Varya’s hand. She turned her hand over as the light played on it and smirked while Marisa’s back was turned. The ‘high and mighty rich’ set were the only reason she had access to spirits at all. It was a non-essential luxury, which meant only the mega wealthy had the money or influence to obtain it.
Varya moved over to the bottle and stroked it absentmindedly before pouring herself a glass. Just a small one. A quarter-inch. Just to take the edge off. She inhaled the fumes and made a face.
“You’re meant to drink it, not snort it,” said Marisa.
Varya stared into her glass for a moment longer, then tipped her head back and downed the contents. She cherished the mild burn that spread down her throat and through her belly.
“Have you got the case ready for this afternoon?” asked Marisa.
Varya nodded and unlocked the cabinet behind her. She reached down and pulled out the sleek red briefcase they used to lend some class to these soirées. The usual tin box that Marisa took to the palliative care wards would never do for this set. They needed to believe they were special. They paid a premium for the perception.
Marisa picked it up and nodded. “What did you want to find Sebastian for, anyway? You never said.”
Varya shook her head and held up her device. “Not now. I’ll contact him later.”
Marisa paused and wrinkled her nose but headed towards the door anyway.
“Alright. I’ll be back tomorrow unless you need me sooner.”
Varya nodded and watched her leave.
Chapter twenty-two
Marisa
It was a strange sort of employment she’d found herself in, Marisa reflected, selling time to those who had seemingly limitless supplies. The woollen plush pile gave way beneath the spiked heels of her shoes. She felt a sudden urge to rip them off and snuggle her feet into the depths of the carpet. Regular people didn’t have carpet like this. Wool was expensive. It came from sheep, which required grass to graze, which required land and water to grow, which was in shorter and shorter supply since the rivers started to dry up.
In fact, everything in this vast cavern of a mansion was one big “screw you” to the restrictions of modern life. A giant water fountain trickled away in the reception area, greeting visitors and warning them by its very presence: ‘Normal rules do not apply to us’.
Marisa knelt in front of
the marble table at the front of the drawing room and unlocked her briefcase. One coiffed head turned away from its conversation to inspect the new noises. Marisa locked eyes with the woman briefly, staring just long enough to be impertinent, then dropped her gaze. In her peripheral vision she watched the red lips purse, the matching fingernails transfer the champagne glass into the other hand and pause. Then the head turned away, back to the clipped chatter of the other heads.
That’s all these women were to Marisa – heads and bank accounts. Do the presentation, take the payments, hand over the time tabs, and get out. Just like selling Tupperware. Which, it occurred to her, these women took it as casually as.
The super wealthy didn’t work, you see. It was the ultimate status symbol in a society where most people worked sixty-hour weeks to afford the luxury of living an extra twenty-five years—to the age of sixty-five—these women idled away all one hundred and sixty-eight hours available to them. They had maids and gardeners, cooks and chauffeurs. And, though they each had at least one child, they had several nannies to care for them. It was ironic, really. Poor women wanted time tabs to add hours to their day, so they had the energy to care for their children after working twelve hours to earn their basic entitlements. Wealthy women didn’t seem to want to see their children at all.
Marisa laid out the tiny glittering boxes which contained various quotas of hours. Purple with a shimmering stripe for ten four-hour strips, jade with a mother-of-pearl stripe for twenty four-hour strips. And isolated at one end of the table was a single faux-diamond encrusted box. It contained thirty, eight-hour strips: enough to eschew sleep for an entire month. This was the box no woman would order today, but for which all eight women would contact Marisa slyly afterwards, thinking they were the only one. The diamond box allowed the socialites to be present at parties until the small hours of the morning and still be on time for their personal trainer session at six o’clock sharp. All while looking fresh as a daisy thanks to the eight hours of solid rest they slipped in between.
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