The Doomsday Code

problem for John. There was a new history created in my time: a history where a rebellion broke this country into pieces, and the French invaded and there was no more England.’

‘Good God!’

‘And I think — I hope we’re well on the mend from that. But …’

‘But what?’

‘But history, I think, is still altered in smaller ways. I mean, think about it. Me … me as the sheriff, for one. And all the things that you now know. Those are all small differences that could lead to bigger changes.’

Cabot hunched his shoulders. ‘Ye worry I would tell others of these things ye have told me?’

‘Well … to be honest, yes.’

‘Who would believe any of it? They would think it the ramblings of an old mad monk.’ He laughed. ‘Travelling to tomorrows yet to be? Worlds shaped like balls? Who would listen to that nonsense? I would be clapped in stocks and have rotten food thrown at me for amusement.’

He had a point.

‘I have a thought.’

‘What?’

‘Perhaps, young Liam … perhaps history too is round, in a sort of way.’

‘What do you mean?’

Cabot’s bushy eyebrows locked with concentration. ‘Round … such like a cart’s wheel. Perhaps ye were always meant to come back and be the Sheriff of Nottingham? Perhaps I was always meant to be told these things by ye.’

The old man had an interesting point.

‘And perhaps our poor John was always meant to have lost the Grail. Is that what your history books say, Liam?’

‘About the Holy Grail?’ Liam emptied the cup. ‘I dunno … I think there’s nothing certain on that. I think history books treat the Grail like a fairy story, or a myth or something.’

‘There, then,’ said Cabot, smiling. ‘If it is a thing that never was … then for it to be lost, what difference does that make?’

‘True.’

He leaned forward and punched Liam on the arm affectionately. ‘Ye worry too much, lad.’

‘Don’t I just?’ he smiled. ‘Anyway … Sebastien.’ He produced a sheet of parchment from the inside of his robe. A single line of pigpen symbols were scrawled across it. ‘We need to cut this into — ’ he looked at the gravestone — ‘into poor old Haskette’s gravestone.’

Cabot studied the parchment for a moment. ‘Ye know, ’tis a very good thing this code of yers is all straight lines. I am no stonemason. I cannot engrave a curve worth speaking of.’ He pulled a mason’s hammer and chisel from the apron of his robe.

‘To work, then.’

CHAPTER 47

2001, New York

It was dark outside. Lit only by a half moon, the East River sparkled silver and reflected the amber glow coming from the lamps of several fishing vessels moored across the water. A dozen street lamps in the small fishing port across from them — they’d learned it was called Laurent-Sur-Mer — glowed mutely, and windows here and there flickered with the movements of family life.

‘I’ve never seen New York so peaceful,’ said Adam. ‘It reminds me of my grandparents’ village up in Scotland.’

Maddy nodded. ‘There’re some places like this up in Maine and Connecticut. All nice and picture- postcardlike.’

They listened for a while to the soothing ebb and draw of gentle lapping waves and the far-off cry of seagulls.

‘So, how long have you been in this time-travel agency? I mean, not always, right? You sound like you’ve done other things; had a life before all this?’

She nodded. ‘Sure, I did.’

‘Well?’

She shrugged. Telling him a little about herself was probably not going to do any harm. ‘I’m from Boston originally. My folks live there. I went to high school there. Then I went to college to major in computers. I bummed out after the first year.’

‘Why?’

‘I got a job with a games company. Seemed pointless going on with the degree, an’ all.’

‘Where was the job?’

‘Here. In New York. Programming user interface stuff on an online game. Kind of like World of Warcraft, but way better.’

‘World of Warcraft? I’m sorry … never heard of that.’

‘Stupid.’ She laughed at herself. ‘Of course not. It doesn’t come out until 2004.’

‘So, how did you go from being a code monkey to being a time traveller?’ asked Adam. ‘That’s quite a professional jump.’

She looked at him. ‘I’m not sure I should tell you too much, Adam … Remember, I said you wouldn’t be able to stay with us, and the more you know, the bigger the problem. So it’s best if I just say I got “recruited”.’

Maddy suddenly felt dizzy, as if she’d been spinning on a merry-go-round with her eyes closed. ‘Ohh,’ she murmured queasily.

‘You feel sick too?’ said Adam beside her. ‘Hang on … was that a — ?’

‘Yup.’ She turned to call inside for Sal. But she saw Sal was already halfway across the floor, hurrying towards them and uncoiling loops of data cable in her wake.

‘Good job,’ Maddy said, taking the end of the cable and plugging it into the hard drive sitting at her feet. She looked up and studied the distant town and the fishing boats dotted across the river for a few moments. Even though it had been intense enough a ripple that even she and Adam had felt it, nothing appeared to be any different out there as far as she could see.

‘Looks like we got another message from Liam!’ Sal called from inside.

A moment later Adam and Maddy were standing either side of her, staring at the grainy image of a gravestone on the monitor.

‘Look, see?’ she said, pointing at the image. ‘There’s definitely more stuff carved on there now.’

Maddy leaned forward. It was easier to detect the faint, worn grooves in the old stonework, now that they’d manipulated the image to a much higher contrast.

‘Yup … that’s new, all right.’ She grabbed a pen from the desk and her notepad, and the sheet of paper with Adam’s pigpen cipher scrawled on it. ‘OK, then, let’s work out what we’ve got.’

The three of them peered closely at the screen. Despite the sharper image, this time the grooves appeared to be shallower, as if a different tool had been used. In some places worn away until almost nothing but a guess could be made.

‘Hmmm,’ Maddy murmured, chewing on her pen.

Adam grabbed another pen and began scribbling down the symbols that were clear enough to be certain of. A minute later there was some semblance of a sentence emerging on paper:

‘I can’t make that out,’ said Maddy. ‘What does it say?’

‘Oh, come on, it’s really easy,’ said Sal. ‘Revolt stopped. Ready for return. Await