Saskia Brandt: Deja Vu Part 24

Revenge was something that Ute understood.

'Ego,' she said. 'Can you reactivate the chip?'

'No. It requires a pa.s.sword.'

Ute looked once more at the handwritten word on the reverse of her ID card. 'Try "munin".'

'The chip has been reactivated.'

Nothing happened.

David said, 'Listen, we need to get after him. We don't know whether he will make it or not. That's not certain.'

The English made sense.

'Hor zu a'

'I understand him,' said Saskia. She crouched to retrieve the gun. Three bullets remained. 'Let's go.'

'You will return,' the witch had said, 'as you have returned before.'

Chapter Thirty-Four.

David was dizzy and nauseous. The s.p.a.cious blackness was reminiscent of the 2003 bombing, although there was no undercurrent of panic. Jennifer led the way through the corridors behind the infra-red eye of Ego, whose exterior displayed a crisp representation of the view ahead. Saskia was in the middle and David was at the rear. Saskia bridged the gap by holding both their hands. David stumbled as Jennifer pushed them against a wall. A guard ambled by with a trail of high-spirited personnel.

When they neared the base of the stairwell, the infra-red view on Ego's screen became dark. They stopped. David whispered, 'Ego? What's happening?'

Some words appeared on the screen: 'System is busy. Please stand by.'

'Ego,' David said, 'you have no business but ours. Belt up.'

Nothing happened.

'Should we wait?' Jennifer asked.

'We could reset it,' Saskia suggested.

There was a beep and the infra-red view reappeared. Ego said, 'Task completed.'

'What task?' David demanded.

Ego did not answer.

'We'll discuss this later,' he said.

They emerged onto the level zero corridor. Ahead of them was an airtight door. Jennifer located a panel and pressed it with her palm. A dazzling bar of light swept beneath her hand. In the brief illumination, David read 'Project N83261 (Deja Vu)'.

'Wait,' Saskia said. She withdrew Hartfield's gun and handed Jennifer her shoulder bag. 'Me first.'

The door began to open on a vertical hinge.

Saskia ran through and dropped behind a crate. The roof was twenty metres distant. Apart from a metal catwalk, the rock walls were bare. The ground was crowded with machinery. Immediately to her left and right were buildings surrounded by danger signs. Their exhaust chimneys extended to the roof. The runway continued between them towards a walled area. Because her position was elevated, she could see over the wall. There was a large pit with a moving, radial arm.

Saskia hurried forward. The sound of the electrical plants and the centrifuge covered her footsteps. But Hartfield might appear from anywhere. She ran over to the right-hand plant and sheltered against its fencing. She put her finger to the gun's trigger and continued her zigzag until she reached the wall of the centrifuge. In a gap between the baffles, she saw the arm flash past. The intervals widened.

Jennifer put a hand on Saskia's shoulder. 'Too late. He's already gone.'

Saskia lowered her gun.

'So what now?'

Chapter Thirty-Five.

The control room comprised a high, empty amphitheatre ranged with monitors. Through its transparent front, Saskia could see the centrifuge. At the end of its arm the gondola slowed.

Spin.

'Jennifer, is there no way that the machine can bring me back?'

The young scientist looked at her. 'Let me be absolutely clear: the insertion is a one-way trip. When you come back to 2023, it'll be by the usual route. Are you having second thoughts?'

'You sound like I have a choice.' Saskia tried to smile.

'Perhaps you do.'

'Ute Schmidt didn't have a choice when she was attacked. I, whoever I am, didn't have a choice when I was killed. What choice does Saskia Brandt have? Klutikov is still out there, in our time, with orders to arrest me. Beckmann still wants me.' Saskia folded her arms. 'Perhaps you should brief me on the procedure.'

Jennifer looked as though she might embrace Saskia, but her expression of pity transformed into something more steely as she turned towards the centrifuge.

'We will accelerate you to a speed of forty metres per second. That's one hundred and forty-four kilometres per hour.'

'That is quite acceptable. I have been driven faster.'

David approached them. He was pale and sickly. 'Cars drive in a straight line, dear. This will feel like the mother of all corners.'

'Dad's right,' said Jennifer. 'You will experience almost four gravities.'

'What does that feel like?'

'It'll hurt. But you'll be wearing a pressure suit and we'll release you almost immediately.'

'Through the wormhole?'

Jennifer smiled. 'Through the wormhole.'

Over the next few minutes, Jennifer patrolled the rows of computer screens. Occasionally, she called to her father and explained, in simple language, aspects of the procedure. Saskia remained at the prow of the control room. She watched the huge arm as it began to turn.

'Wait a minute,' said Jennifer. She had stopped at a terminal. 'In which year did Hartfield receive his nano-treatment?'

'1999,' said David.

'The readout says he went back to 2003, four years later. Why would he return to a time after the damage was done?'

'Perhaps the new treatment can reverse the old,' said Saskia.

'I don't think so,' Jennifer said. 'If that were the case, he would have taken the treatment now.'

'When in 2003, Jenny?' asked David.

'May 14th.'

'That's the day the West Lothian Centre was bombed.'

'Fine,' said Saskia. 'He wants to stop the bomb.'

David shook his head. 'No. Hartfield is interested in one thing: himself. He can be cured with the correct nano-treatment. It no longer matters to him that the centre will be destroyed.'

Jennifer tapped the readout pensively. 'There's more. This date was entered into the computer only two minutes before Hartfield went through the wormhole.'

'Meaning?' asked David.

'Hartfield must have been in the gondola when the insertion data were changed by a third party. He didn't intend to return to this date.'

'Do you remember when we came down here from the lab?' said David. 'Ego stopped working briefly.' He paused, listening to the voice in his ear. 'Yes, Ego says he hacked the time machine's computer and changed the date. He won't tell us why.'

'This is part of my future self's plan, is it not?' said Saskia.

'Very probably. I hope you'll know what you're doing.'

'We need to keep moving,' Jennifer said. She pulled a two-piece flight suit from a locker at the rear of the control room and brought it to Saskia, who accepted it apprehensively. 'Dad, explain how the suit works. I'll start the ignition sequence.'

David got up from his chair, where he had been making notes on a pink sheet of paper. He pinched the rubbery flight suit between his finger and thumb. 'Oh, I wish I had one of these.'

Saskia flexed her shoulders. The suit was tight. It pushed her arms back and her chest out. The legs felt like orthopaedic stockings. There were reinforced pads at the knees and elbows. Something called a hard hood was stowed in the collar. Along her left forearm was a computer display. It showed a schematic of the West Lothian Centre. On her shoulder was a satellite transceiver. There were no Galileo satellites in 2003, so it would piggyback the American military's Global Positioning System.

David tightened the strap around her waist. 'Owah,' Saskia said.

'Sorry.' He patted the clasp and it melted to a flush finish. 'One more thing. The red b.u.t.ton on your sleeve will lower the refractive index of the suit to zero.'

'What does that mean?'

'The suit will become almost invisible. You'll look like a clear plastic bag filled with water. Treat it like instant camouflage. The suit was designed to protect and conceal pilots behind enemy lines.'

'I see.'

'One small step for a woman, eh?'

'I don't understand.'

David lost his smile. 'My wife is in that research centre. Was. She died in the bombing.'

'You want me to give her a message.'

'No. I just want you to make sure you don't die too.'

Saskia put a gloved hand to his cheek. 'David, you could shoot me right now and the bullet will miss. There is an effect whose cause I must supply, remember?'

'Hurry,' said Jennifer. She indicated a monitor. 'Personnel are returning.'

Saskia looked from one to the other. Jennifer had David's mouth, but it was harder for her to smile. Saskia considered asking them, as a favour to her, to stay together, but it was a decision they had to make for themselves. 'Auf Wiedersehen, meine Freunden,' was all she could say.

'Wait,' David said. 'I almost forgot.' He pa.s.sed her a pink sheet. It held a child's crayon drawing of a house. Inside were a stick mother and father. Between them, a little girl. 'When my house in Oxford burned, I risked my life to take this off the fridge. I guess it's a key to...memories. What we used to be.' David looked at his daughter. 'I was going to return it to Jennifer, but you'll need it, Saskia.'

'For what?'

'The number on the back, TS4415, is a hijack trip-code used by the Lothian and Borders Police Service. It's difficult to explain, but you'll need to give it to me during my rescue from the West Lothian Centre.'

'I understand, I think. I read the report.' Saskia unzipped the map pocket on her thigh and pushed the paper inside. 'But I hope I don't forget. You're talking about something that is twenty years ahead of me.'

'So you've got twenty years to remember. Easy.'

Jennifer shouted, 'Hurry, Saskia.'

She waved and left the control room. As she jogged down the runway, she heard the raised voices of personnel. She began to sprint. She slipped through a gap between the baffles and skipped up the steps to the gondola. It rocked as she clambered inside. The door closed automatically.

She heard Jennifer's voice in her ear. 'Saskia?'

'Go,' she replied. The motor of the centrifuge wailed like a jet. The gondola lurched forward and she fell onto the watery acceleration couch. Through tiny windows, she watched the world tilt. She tapped her wrist computer and the hard hood closed over her head. Its arch-like sections blended to form a seamless, transparent bowl. The motor noise muted.