Time Riders

CHAPTER 61

2001, New York

‘It really smells bad back here,’ complained Sal. ‘Phew. Smellslike something’s gone off.’

Foster panned his torch around. They’d not been in the back room of the archway sincethe power had failed them several days ago. His torch flickered across the row of largeplastic birthing tubes along the back wall.

‘It’s them,’ he said, ‘the embryos inside have died.’

Sal stepped across the floor towards them. She stared in through the murky plastic at thedark forms inside — the foetus, the baby, the small boy, the teenage boy.

‘They’re all dead?’

Foster nodded. ‘Filtration system stopped running. Their own effluence must have backedup and poisoned the nourishment solution.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘They choked on their own poop,’ said Maddy helpfully as she poured a jerry canof diesel into the generator. ‘Hey, Foster, you sure this is the right kind of fuelI’m pouring into this thing? How do we know it runs on diesel and not, like,gasolene?’

He stepped over towards her. ‘It’s diesel. Although whether this is the rightkind we’ll know soon enough.’

‘My grandad used to have a generator in his basement,’ said Maddy, ‘and he was very particular about the kind of fuel you poured into it…two-stroke or whatever. He said you pour the wrong kind of fuel in and it eventually clogs upthe carburettor or something. Costs a bunch of money to fix.’

Foster shook his head. ‘Just as long as this generator keeps working long enough to getus out of this fix, then I’ll be happy. If it clogs it up and we need to replace it,then we’ll worry about that later, OK?’

Maddy shrugged. ‘OK.’

Foster finished emptying the last can and screwed the cap back on the generator’s tank.‘Right,’ he said, licking his lips, ‘right then… Fingerscrossed.’

He worked a manual lever on the side of the generator several times, grunting with the effortof pulling it down. With one last look at Maddy, he punched a red button on the front. Thegenerator coughed to life and turned reluctantly over several times before spluttering anddying.

‘Well, that didn’t sound too good,’ uttered Maddy.

‘She’s just clearing her throat, that’s all,’ he said with a lessthan convincing nod. He pumped the lever several times, his breath catching from the effort,before hitting the button once more. The generator thudded to life again, this time with farmore enthusiasm. After a few perilous seconds, it found a slow chugging rhythm, then began topick up the pace. The slow thudding, at first like a giant heartbeat, became a rapid stabbing,then a clattering purr that filled the back room with its deafening volume.

Foster stepped to the side of the vibrating machine and flipped some circuit breakers on afuse board. A cobweb-covered light bulb in the ceiling glowed to life, bathing the room with aflickering red light.

‘Yeah!’ yelped Maddy. ‘We did it!’

Foster nodded and grinned, clearly relieved. ‘So now we’ve gotpower again,’ he barked loudly, struggling to compete with the generator’s noisychug.

He turned to Sal, still staring at the dead bodies in the tubes. ‘Hey, Sal, cheer up!We’re well on the way to getting the others back!’

She turned round to look at him, eyes red-rimmed and wet. ‘But too late for them, though.’

He shook his head firmly. ‘Although they look human, youmust try not to think of them as such. They’re nothing more than meat robots, Sal,nothing more. Come on,’ he said, gesturing towards the sliding metal door leading backinto the archway, ‘let’s get the displacement machine charging up.’

He ushered them out, Sal craning her neck one last time to look at the tubes as they steppedout.

‘What will you do with them?’ she asked.

‘I’ll deal with them, don’t you worry about that.’

‘But what will you do with them?’

Foster shook his head. ‘We’ve got far more important matters to be thinking aboutright now.’

He closed the door on the smell and the noisy rattle of the generator and made a mental noteto dispose of the clone bodies when Sal was fast asleep. The last thing she needed to seeright now was him carrying their bodies out.

He stepped over towards the machine beside the large perspex cylinder, and flipped a switch.A long row of small red LED lights winked on. The first of them almost immediately flickeredand turned from red to green.

‘OK, it’s charging,’ he said.

He joined the girls slumped in chairs around their mess table. ‘We’ve beenthrough a lot. And there’s still a lot more we’re going to have to do. When themachinery is charged up enough, we’ll need to get that message throughto Bob. And, of course, we’ll need to decide exactly whereand when we’re opening the return window. But fornow,’ he said, sighing, ‘right now… I could murder a cup ofcoffee.’

The girls, both grimy and tired, looked up at him. ‘Just what the doctorordered,’ said Maddy.

Foster settled back in his chair, suddenly feeling as old as the hills. ‘Come on, then,whose turn is it to brew up?’