TimeRipper

by D E McCluskey

  After he’d finished communicating with Kosminski, he had left his home and made his way, on foot, through the night, to Miller’s Court, where the women were currently living. Tonight, he knew that Mary Kelly would be there on her own, or maybe with the other person Kosminski had been babbling about. He took a long, mostly indirect route towards their lodgings. This way he would be able to throw anyone who may be following him, off his scent. It was nearly four-thirty in the morning when he reached the dwelling.

  His intel had informed him that the women were living on the ground floor, in number thirteen. It was a larger dwelling, intended for a small family who could all live within the same room.

  Miller’s Court was, quite rightly, daubed as the ‘worst street in London’ with reference to the gangs and thugs that operated from it. Even the police wouldn’t walk down it if there were less than three of them. Tonight, it was dark, quiet, and uninviting. As his purpose for being there was also dark and uninviting, it seemed fitting.

  He kept his hand on the trigger of the laser cutter in his pocket, ready for any unexpected, and unwanted, company on the street. Luckily for him, he made it to the dwelling unmolested.

  He crept up to the window of the small apartment and peered inside. The tenement was gloomy and silent; the only sound he could decipher was a dog barking somewhere in the distance. Inside, the room was dim. He could only make out vague shapes, but nothing that he could identify as his target.

  From the shadows, he noticed, that a group of people were investigating his ‘murder’ cry from the other side of the road. He knew that no one would be looking his way for a small while, giving him ample time to do what he need to do.

  Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

  A small movement.

  It was just a shadow, really, but he thought it might be a dangerous one. It was only then that he noticed something that rang alarm bells in his mind. The window was quartered, four small sections of glass separated by a thin frame of wood. The bottom, right hand corner window had been broken, the glass had been fitted with some kind of rag, obviously to keep the chill of the night out. Silently, he tried the door, it was locked from the inside. He held his breath, slid his hand through the broken windowpane, and without straining, found that he could reach through and unlock the door. As he entered the room, there was a movement from the corner and something black rushed at him from the shadows. Abberline had just enough time to dodge the attacker, and whoever it was, was out through the door in no time. He thought about running after them, giving chase, but when he saw what was over the other side of the room, he forgot all about the assailant.

  The thing on the bed wasn’t moving.

  In the dark, it looked only remotely human.

  Abberline took a moment to study the carnage.

  He felt the gorge rising in his throat, and he knew he had to get out of this little room.

  She’s not going anywhere, he thought as he burst out of the dwelling to chase the shadow who had nearly knocked him over. Whoever it was, was making their way towards Bell Lane.

  Abberline began his pursuit.

  The shadow was almost at Wentworth Street and was still moving fast, but Abberline, although he had reached the age of fifty nearly two years ago, was in perfect health, the peak of physical fitness.

  The shadow was fast, but Abberline was faster.

  Wentworth Street quickly turned into Old Castle Street, heading towards his familiar haunt of Whitechapel High Street. Jesus, this guy can run, Abberline thought as, finally, the ravages of his age began to overtake his fitness. By a stroke of good luck, the shadow turned onto Whitechapel High Street and ran right into a set of bins that had been left out on the pavement outside the workhouse. The assailant hit the obstacles and went reeling to one side, attempting to keep his balance. This mistake gave Abberline all the time he needed to catch up. He dived onto the struggling figure and a tussle ensued.

  Of the two men, Abberline was the larger, and it didn’t take long for him to get the upper hand in the fight.

  ‘Stop, will you, just stop,’ he shouted, holding the struggling figure beneath him in a headlock grip.

  The smaller man, the shadow, was bucking, trying his best to wriggle away from his grip as opposed to fighting. Abberline squeezed his arms tighter, closing the headlock, until the fight left his captive. ‘Will you just stop for a second,’ he panted, badly out of breath from the chase and the tussle. ‘Will you just stop and talk to me?’

  Eventually, the figure stopped struggling and turned to look at him.

  ‘You?’ the shadow whispered, slightly out of breath. ‘But… but how?’

  65.

  Orbital Platform One. 2288

  VINCENT, KEVIN, YOUSSEF, and Jacqueline were gathered in the large Hadron Collider room. Vincent was ready and prepared, dressed in the style of the day as a gentleman, but not one who would be affluent enough to stand out in the crowd. His quantum slug had been updated with a new transponder code for the new time zone. He looked fit and healthy and raring to go.

  ‘You’re going to need this,’ Youssef said, handing him a bundle of paper. ‘What is all that?’

  ‘It’s roughly three thousand pounds in old cash, relative to the date. It's a fortune back then. You’ll need it to survive. Secure yourself somewhere large enough and secluded enough to hold the women until we can safely bring them back. You’re also going to need to buy clothes and find somewhere to live. This amount of cash should allow you to do all that and still live nicely for the time. Don’t go extravagant, whatever you do. Remember your week in Cardiff; you cannot make a splash or make any of the headlines.’

  ‘You know the drill,’ Kevin continued. ‘You get in, get your targets, and get out. I’ll be coordinating your moves from here and communicating them through Jacqueline. She’ll be your sole point of contact. If you have any problems, you contact her and get an emergency extraction. You hear me? You’re not to take any chances. This mission is a priority, and you’re our best hope of fulfilling it.’

  ‘Got it,’ Vincent replied, nodding. He turned his attention to Jacqueline, who was busying herself monitoring the communications board, perhaps a little too intently. ‘I’m counting on you, rookie. You give me the best communications ever and get me the hell out of there when I need it. Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed,’ she replied, her eyes lingering a little too long on his. It was all she could say as tears were choking up her words.

  She picked up a large backpack, the zipper was open, and she was rummaging through the contents. Vincent knew exactly what was in it. It was the tools of his trade. ‘Because you’ll be going back longer this time, we realised that the cellular powered devices you took to Cardiff might not have the charge needed for them to function correctly. So, we set these ones up with nuclear power charges. Basically, they will run forever,’ she smiled, handing the backpack to him.

  Vincent winked at her and accepted the gift. There was a moment where she didn’t want to release the bag to him. After a couple of awkward seconds, she did. He removed his cape, slid the pack on, and replaced it. To the casual observer, the pack would not be visible. He looked at her and swallowed. It was his turn for his eyes to linger a little too long. ‘Start her up, sweetheart,’ he directed at the whole room.

  ‘Good luck, Vincent. We know this is going to be tough, but if anyone can do it, I know it’s you and this team,’ Youssef said, shaking him by the hand.

  ‘Good luck, kiddo. Don’t you dare go letting me down now.’ Kevin smiled, nearly breaking his bones with his over enthusiastic hug.

  One of the monitors chirped, and an image of Dr Hausen appeared on it. ‘I haven't missed him, have I?’ he shouted into the screen.

  ‘No, doctor, you haven’t missed me,’ Vincent smiled.

  ‘Good, I just wanted to tell you good luck, son, we’re all behind you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, but I couldn’t let you go without a wave.’

  ‘Thanks,
doc,’ Vincent nodded, smiling. He turned back towards the room and was surprised to see Jacqueline standing behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big kiss. ‘I don’t care if they know,’ she whispered. ‘I just had to give you that.’ Vincent kissed her back and everyone in the room turned away, allowing them their moment.

  After a small while, she cleared her throat and backed off, a little red in the face, as was Vincent. ‘Right then, good luck, Mr Clarence.’ She straightened her tunic and returned to her station.

  ‘Would I have gotten one of them if it was me going?’ Kevin asked, breaking the tension of the room.

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ she smiled, sitting back at her monitor.

  ‘OK, well that’s that then. Let’s get this show on the road. Vincent, are you ready for this mission?’ Kevin asked, clapping his hands together.

  He snapped to attention. ‘I am, sir.’

  ‘And you understand the risks?’

  ‘I do, sir.’

  ‘Then go forward and complete your mission. The retrieval of the fugitive terrorists of The Quest, or at the very least their slugs, to stop them from returning to twenty-two-eighty-eight.’

  ‘I’ll perform this to the best of my abilities, sir.’

  ‘I know you will, son. Then, God Speed, and may Allah guide your hand,’ Youssef said.

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  Vincent turned to everyone in the room and saluted; everyone saluted back. He then blew a kiss to Jacqueline and stepped into the Hadron Collider racetrack. As the glass doors closed, Jacqueline fired up the collider. The lights began to twist and turn and race along the track. She activated the hydrogen injectors, and a purple light shone from inside the glass room.

  ‘All systems working within normal parameters,’ she reported.

  ‘Set the Higgs-Boson particle now,’ Youssef instructed over the noise of the Collider.

  ‘Injecting, sir,’ she reported, trying to sound professional, although her voice sounded thicker than normal, possibly due to the tears streaming down her face. She pressed the buttons on her portal, and instantly, there was a flash of bright white light in the room.

  They were expecting a purple light.

  An alarm sounded in the room that resonated around the complex.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Youssef shouted rushing to the adjoining portal to Jacqueline’s.

  ‘I, I don’t know sir. It looks like a power surge. It’s coming from the collider itself.’

  He frantically typed commands into the collider’s main console, but the white light prevailed, and the alarms did not turn off.

  ‘It’s a malfunction in the primary straight of the collider. The hydrogen is spinning too fast. What date did you send him back to?’ Youssef shouted, still looking at his screen.

  ‘July twenty-second, eighteen-eighty-eight, as we discussed. The day after the women arrived.’

  ‘Maybe the residue from their trips are interfering with ours. That’s not reading eighteen-eighty-eight.’ He turned towards Jacqueline. Her face had lost all colour, and tears were streaming down her face faster and fatter than before. ‘I don’t know when it’s sending him. Can you compensate for the primary straight by injecting more modified hydrogen?’

  ‘If we use more hydrogen, that’ll kill him?’ she shouted, horrified.

  ‘It’s a risk, but it might be enough to stabilise his signal and either bring it back here or strengthen it into eighteen-eighty-eight. At this moment, it’s fluctuating wildly. If we don’t do anything, we’ll lose him completely.’

  ‘Modified hydrogen going in now, sir,’ she reported.

  ‘Youssef, what will happen to Vincent if this doesn’t work?’ Kevin asked, his face a mask of concern.

  Youssef looked at him before gesturing towards Jacqueline with his eyes.

  ‘It’s OK, sir. I know what’ll happen,’ she shouted to the two men after witnessing the look.

  Youssef turned away from her, back to Kevin. He exhaled a large breath. ‘At present, he’s spinning. The worst-case scenario is that he could be torn apart by the eddies of time and different parts of him would arrive at the same location, but at different times. Or, he’ll materialize in another time fully intact.’ He shrugged, shaking his head slowly. ‘We just don’t know.’

  Kevin turned to Jacqueline. She was dutifully punching buttons on her portal. He could see tears running down her face as she did, and he knew exactly how she felt. Vincent had become more than just a trainee to him, he had also become a friend.

  Suddenly, the light abated, and the klaxon stopped. The Hadron Collider began to slow. The silence was almost complete, as everyone strained to see into the glass room. Smoke that had been building up from the Collider’s fail-safe engines began to clear, and Jacqueline ran to the glass door. It was fogged over with condensation. She wiped at the mist on the glass and saw the Higgs Storm bubble inside. The containment field was working. The extractor fans kicked in and removed the Storm. The very fact that there had been Storm at all told her everything she needed to know.

  It told her what would be within the Collider’s racetrack.

  Nothing!

  Vincent had been successfully displaced.

  ‘Nooooooo!’ she screamed, running back to the portal. She mashed at the keys and stared intently at the screen. ‘No, no, no…’ she repeated, ‘Why? Why?’

  ‘What’s happening?’ Kevin shouted over to her—although the noise had abated, it was still ringing in his head.

  ‘I don’t know, sir. All I can confirm is… he’s gone.’ She looked up from her console screen, a faint but sad smile on her lips. ‘I can also confirm that he’s reached his destination, but…’ she paused then to swallow the grief that had lumped in her throat. ‘…I can’t confirm when he is. He could be anytime. I also can’t confirm that he survived the trip.’

  ‘What? What do you mean he could be anytime?’ Kevin shouted.

  ‘I mean that we’re not getting any quantum signal or magnetic tag signal from him. He’s fallen into time, and we’ve absolutely no way of tracking him. The portal is telling me that he has reached his destination, but the power spike, or whatever it was, has erased all information regarding when he is. All I can confirm is that he has been sent to the correct location: latitude and longitude 51.315.99, 0.10418.60. Spitalfields, London, sir.’

  ‘Is there no redundancy backup on the portal? No OS backup?’ Kevin asked, surprising himself on the knowledge that he had picked up.

  ‘Normally, yes, sir; right now, no. There’s nothing! Our secondary system is fried. I’ll check to see if it’s sent any information to the cloud, but at this point, I would seriously doubt it. She tapped keys at an expediential rate on the portal, trying her utmost to find anything relating to the last transmission.’

  Her calm veneer was slipping as she looked at Youssef, her eyes were raw and sore. ‘There’s nothing here. When could he be? How far back could this thing have thrown him?’

  Youssef walked over and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight into his embrace. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t. I won’t try to hide the truth from you. He could be absolutely anytime. The only thing we can do is hope he’s fine, and that he may go on to live as productive a life as possible, or as much as the paradoxical laws will allow.’

  Jacqueline sank into the hug. Eventually, she looked up into his face. Youssef’s heart broke as he stared into her eyes. She was a child asking if her puppy was going to be OK.

  ‘Do you think he might find a way to get back here, back to me?’ She already knew the answer, and when Youssef’s only response was to hug her tighter, it confirmed it to her.

  She buried her head into his chest and wept.

  Kevin watched with the unfolding realization that Vincent was gone. The realist in him knew that this part of the mission was now a failure. He knew they would need to find another way of stopping the women. I fucking hate being a pragmatist, he thought. He turned away from the unfoldi
ng melodrama, mainly to avert his eyes and allow Jacqueline to continue her grief in semi-privacy. As he did, he looked at the board with the ten signals coming from eighteen-eighty-eight. It was how they knew where the women were in time and in some vague way, where they were geographically. The lights were all still on, but most of them were now flashing, erratically. It was as if the computer couldn’t tell if it was receiving data from the slugs, or not. Dates flashed up. There one moment, then gone the next, only to come back again moments later. Locations began to change, accompanied by map grids, GPS locations, latitude, and longitude references.

  Kevin was shaking his head. ‘Youssef get over here and look at this. I think Vincent’s doing something. Something good.’

  ‘What?’ both Youssef and Jacqueline asked as they walked over to where Kevin was gawping at the board.

  ‘Look.’ He pointed at the signals on the wall.

  ‘What is all that information?’ she asked as he looked at the readouts.

  ‘I’m not sure, but it looks like dates and locations of slugs,’ Youssef replied.

  ‘But they’re not moving, they’re showing the same date and time, the same location every time they flash up.’

  Kevin moved closer to study the signals. ‘Do you know what? I’d bet good money that this monitor is showing us the times, dates, and locations that the slugs broadcast last.’

  ‘But they’re still broadcasting, look.’ Youssef pointed to the wall; the signals were still functioning within the normal parameters while the lights were on but stopped when the information flashed up.

  ‘How can that be?’

  The room was silent. No one could figure out what was happening.

  ‘Maybe it’s something to do with Vincent. Maybe he’s located the women and eliminated them already,’ Jacqueline burst with an enthusiasm that she didn’t think she had left in her. There was also something else in her voice, Youssef thought it might have been hope.