Time Riders

Bob led the way past this morning’s newcomers, all of them on their knees, all lookingup at him with wide eyes.

‘Blessings upon you all,’ he growled tunelessly as he strode past them towardsthe camouflaged trucks.

Liam nodded. ‘Yes. Keep up the good work, fellas,’ he said, cringing inside athow stupid that had just sounded.

Bob was in the truck, turning over the engine with a loud rattling cough and a belch ofexhaust fumes as Liam pulled himself up into the cab. Without a moment’s hesitation Bobslipped it into gear and the truck began to roll across the uneven forestfloor towards the twin muddy ruts of forest track.

‘Ooh… that was awkward,’ Liam uttered, looking in the rearview mirror asthe pale ovals of curious faces emerged from the undergrowth on to the track behind them,watching them leave.

He felt something inside him. Sadness? Perhaps it was guilt. Those poor men would probablycarry on the struggle without Bob, many of them dying as they did so, fighting for a futurethat wasn’t going to be.

When they got back home, back to 2001, and Liam told Foster exactly where and when theyneeded to return to, to put history back on its correct course — and this Kramer wasconfronted and killed before he could change Hitler’s destiny — when thathappened, this incorrect history would cease to be. Justdisappear. And all the sacrifices those men had already made and might yet make in the comingdays… it will all have been for nothing.

Although Liam would never see it for himself, this world would shimmer and shift amidincreasing waves of temporal instability, and then in the blink of an eye — pop! — it would become the 1957 it should be.

Bob turned to Liam. ‘There is sufficient time to reach the rendezvous location inWashington DC. We have fourteen hours and fifty-two minutes.’

‘Great, thanks, Bob.’

‘However, there is a high probability that enemy units will stand between us and therendezvous location. This reduces the estimated probability of our successfully getting to therendezvous point to — ’

‘I’ll stop you right there, Bob… if that’s OK.’

The support unit looked at him expressionlessly. ‘You do not wish to know thepercentage estimation of success?’

Liam shook his head. ‘Uhh… no, not really.’

CHAPTER 69

1957, Washington DC

It was after dark when they finally entered Washington DC. A curfew was in effectand the streets quiet and still, street lamps buzzing softly amid the hiss and patter of sleetdrizzling down. They decided to ditch the army truck on the outskirts of the city when theyspotted a roadblock ahead. The rest of the route into the city they navigated throughDC’s subterranean network of sewers.

Bob efficiently led the way, Liam following, grimacing at the stench of sewage and the sightof rats running alongside him on a brick ledge, eyeing him cautiously as they scuttledpast.

Finally, Bob cocked his head, his eyes fluttered. He took a left turn off the main tunnel.‘We go up this access ladder. The co-ordinate stamp indicates a location fifty yardsfrom this position.’

Bob clambered up the ladder. At the top he gently, cautiously, pushed aside a round sewagecover. He poked his head up to check the lay of the land, then ducked back down.

Liam was right behind him on the ladder. ‘Is it clear?’

‘There are no enemy units in line of sight. Please stay close to me.’

‘How long have we got until the window opens?’

‘Seventeen minutes,’ replied Bob as he pulled himself up.

Liam nodded. A pretty close thing. But they were here in time and that’s all thatmattered.

He clambered up the ladder until his head was poking out of the manhole. Hecould see a four-laned boulevard. Nothing moved along it. The buildings on either side — rows of three- and four-storey town houses — looked occupied. Dull vanilla lightsflickered beyond drawn curtains. Liam thought he saw the diffused silhouette ofsomeone’s head and shoulders crossing in front of a bedroom lamp.

People still living in the city, then.

But subdued, cowed… frightened.

Above in the night sky, still hovering like a dark thundercloud, he could see Kramer’scommand ship in position above the White House. Several dozen searchlights lanced down fromit, sweeping the sullen and silent city, hunting for any citizens foolish enough to dare breakthe curfew and step out into the night.

‘Come!’ whispered Bob.

Liam pulled himself up, and scrambled across the empty road, joining Bob in the mouth of adark and litter- strewn backstreet.

‘This is the location,’ said Bob. ‘Twenty yards along,’ he added,pointing to the end where garbage pails and boxes were piled against a wood-slat fence.

They made their way down to the end, carefully doing their best to avoid kicking any looseclutter across the ground.

‘This is the location,’ said Bob, squatting down. He began shifting aside severalwet cardboard boxes full of rubbish. ‘Recommendation: we clear this space ofobstructions. Otherwise density warnings will prevent them from opening the timewindow.’

Liam nodded and eagerly began to help. He suddenly realized, for the first time sincethey’d been sent back into the past, since things had gone so completely pear-shaped onthe White House lawn, that they were actually going to make it home to 2001.

‘I owe you my life, Bob,’ he said, slapping the support unit onthe back. ‘You got us here in one piece.’

Bob tossed a wet handful of mushed cardboard and rotting refuse to one side. ‘Missionparameters will be met only when you and the data that has been acquired are successfullyreturned to the field office for analysis.’

Liam grinned. ‘All right, Bob. I was just trying to say thank you, that’sall.’

‘Thank you?’

‘Yeah, you know… thanks. You rescued me. I reckon youweren’t meant to do that, were you? I’m pretty certain you should’ve gonethrough the back-up window six months ago, to be sure.’

Bob’s eyebrows locked. His mouth opened and shut. ‘My mission prioritieswere… recalculated.’

‘Mission priorities recalculated, huh?’ Liam’sgrin widened. ‘What I think you mean is that you chose to rescue… afriend.’

Bob’s confused frown became a loose approximation of a disapproving scowl.‘Negative. I do not have friends. I am a biological weapons platform, a field supportunit.’

Liam pursed his lips and nodded. ‘Fine. Sure… if that’s how you-’

Bob’s eyes fluttered. ‘This location is currently being scanned for densitypackets.’

‘That’s them, isn’t it? Foster? Maddy?’

‘Affirmative.’

Liam clapped his hands together. ‘Oh yes! Jay-zus-’n’-Mother-Mary,we’re going home!’

‘One minute until window opens,’ said Bob. ‘Please stand clear.’

Liam obediently stepped back, as did Bob. They both waited in the dark for the telltale paleflicker of light.

‘Ten seconds.’

Liam grasped Bob’s hand and shook it. ‘We make a good team, don’twe?’

Bob looked down at the young man’s hand, folded in his giant sausage fingers. For amoment the gesture seemed to be lost on him, then he managed an unattractive smile.

‘Good team,’ he replied.

A pale spark appeared, flickering dimly like a firefly. Then a moment later Liam felt agentle puff of displaced