The House That Jack Built: The House That Jack Built

'The Rift,' Jack muttered.

'Oh no!' she laughed, the vibrations of her mirth shaking all the tables in the cafe. 'We barely noticed that until after we'd latched on to your universe. It was you! You light up this continuum like a beacon.'

The shadow passed again, this time flipping across the backs of the vehicles as the unknowable creature that cast it landed on the roof.

'The damage you have done to the time stream is almost incalculable,' she continued. 'Come from the future, steal from the past… I lost count of how many of you we detected in — using your relative year markers — 1941.' She reached out and took his hand. 'You get so involved! The first rule of time travel, my dear, leave the locals alone — if you don't want to attract our attention — ' she smiled and her teeth stretched like clarinet reeds from her gums, long, yellow and eager to cut and chew — 'and believe me you don't. Changing things, people and events, that draws attention. You're a force of nature, Jack, a temporal tsunami, and we tasted you.'

Her tongue fell between the elongated rows of teeth, flopping onto the back of his hand where it curled and licked, enjoying the salt of his skin.

He tried to pull his hand back from her grasp, but she held it tight.

'We found that little house of yours, where, as always, you did so much damage…'

'What damage?'

'So unrepentant! My darling boy, there were two time lines damaged before you'd even had time to let the welcome mat gather dust.'

Jack became aware that there was a couple sitting at the table next to them. He knew it was Miles and Alison without even having to turn. Could tell by the cool drips of river water he heard fall from Alison's slack mouth onto the formica.

'Small fry by your standards, I'll admit,' she continued, dabbing the tip of her tongue on the web of skin between his fingers, 'but the building had such potential. So, we reached for it…' she extended a bony index finger, 'and pushed …' her fingertip disturbed the air around it, sending out ripples, 'forcing ourselves further and further into the universe.'

'Why didn't I notice?' Jack asked, tilting his head as the ripples from the disturbance in the air ricocheted off his brow.

'We've only just started, barely longer than this conversation in your relative time. Our presence echoes all the way along the building's time line, altering things, distorting them… But your position as a time traveller offers you something of a unique perspective. You remember the past the way it was before we started to interfere. Jackson Leaves wasn't always the soup of violence and paradox that it is now; we just made it that way — in less time than the waitress took on your drink, mark you. All the better to feast when we reach inside far enough.'

She bit at the knuckle on his little finger, drawing a drop of blood, before letting go of his hand and withdrawing her tongue back inside a shrinking mouth. Within moments she was just simple Joan Bosher again.

'And we will feast soon,' she added. 'You've time to drink your coffee but not much more than that.' She pushed the mug towards him.

Jack got to his feet and walked towards the door. He yanked it open and swore as he found the road on the other side. Above his head he could hear the sound of whatever dream creature perched on the roof as it tightened the grip of its talons on the guttering. He stepped back into the cafe.

'Just drink your coffee,' said the thing that looked like Joan Bosher. 'Once feeding has been instigated, there's no turning back.'

'Relax,' suggested the waitress, picking up her dirty cloth and dragging its mouldy fabric over the counter. 'It's only a universe, after all.'

'Take the weight off,' said the more aggressive of the mods, walking towards him.

'Just lie back…' added Miles, looking toward his waterlogged wife.

'…and take it,' Alison gurgled.

Jack thought for a moment before marching over to the mod, picking him up by the lapels of his parka and hurling him through the glass of the door. The glass shattered and the mod winked out of existence, even as the room in Jackson Leaves reappeared on the other side of the fracture.

'Don't lay the table just yet,' warned Jack, stepping through the hole in the door and back into his universe.

TWENTY

Alexander's wheels cut channels through the rain as he headed back towards the front of Jackson Leaves, the umbrella wedged behind his shoulder to keep both him and the apparatus dry. If anything, the rain seemed to be getting heavier, bouncing off the road in white sparkles, and flooding the drains, running in great streams along the gutter. Alexander noticed the streetlights begin to flicker as he lined himself up with the drive of Jackson Leaves.

'It's getting worse,' he whispered, his words lost in the clatter of the rain.

Joe and Hannah didn't need him to tell them, though; looking around was clue enough. The privet hedge writhed in front of the house, new growths shooting forth, leaves unfurling into dry then dead, knocked apart by the hammering rain. A season's growth in an instant.

'It's spreading out,' Alexander shouted, pointing at Gloria Banks's house next door. The structure seemed almost fluid, windows fluctuating between shattered holes and bright new glazing, giving the impression that the house was winking at them. Maybe it was pleased at the undulations that were taking place across its surface: cladding surging forth to be sucked back in again by the hungry bricks, clouds of cement dust exploded from the grouting as it moistened then aged. The blue-granite gravel that Gloria had taken such pride in was not serving her well, swirling and spluttering as it was whipped to and fro by the weeds that thrashed within it.

A crack appeared in the pavement just in front of Alexander's wheelchair.

'We need to be quick!' he shouted. 'Joe, fetch a couple of stones — not from there!' Joe had been moving towards Gloria's house. 'Idiot! Behind us. The disruption is less the further one goes from the house.'

Alexander turned on the contraption in his lap and pointed it towards Jackson Leaves. On the PDA screen he could see the swirls and eddies of chronons as the disruption fluctuated over the area.

Joe returned, holding out a pair of stones.

'Right,' said Alexander. 'Let's test this, shall we?'

He took the stones, weighing them gently in his palm as he scrutinised the PDA screen.

'Listen, the two of you,' he shouted. 'With this, I can see the disruption waveforms. They ebb and flow, yes? Like a tide… rippling towards us. If we're quick and precise, I should be able to guide our way, picking the point at which the waveforms are stretched thin and less dangerous… like… there!'

He threw the stone and, instead of disappearing as it had before, his good aim saw it sail through the disruption and break the glass of one of the upstairs windows.

'Aha! What did I tell you?' He threw the other stone and it followed the trajectory of the first, rewarding the three of them with the sound of more glass shattering. 'There is a route through the waveforms, see?'

He looked at them, but what he was saying was so far beyond their understanding of physics it clearly meant nothing. 'Look… just imagine we're on a beach facing the sea, OK? We want to get into the deep water but can't let the crests of the waves touch us as we go in. If they touch us we will die, so we have to jump them. You understand?'

'Like the seaside!' Joe shouted.

'I hate the bloody seaside,' moaned Hannah. 'You always get sand in your…'

'Yes!' Alexander roared. 'Just like the seaside. Now, Joe, you'll have to carry me on your back, the wheelchair will just slow us down.'