No True Echo (11 page)

Maguire pressed stop on the camera. ‘Any questions?'

I had so many I didn't know where to begin. He disconnected the camera but the image of his frozen face remained on the monitor.

‘Go on,' he said. ‘You can ask me anything. This is a museum, after all. Or it will be. I believe they call this one the discovery room.'

‘Okay,' I said, ‘if you went back in time and wrote the sentence two days ago, then why wasn't it there when you opened up the book in the first place?'

‘That is a very good question and one which will take many years of research and speculation to answer.' He switched off the monitor.

‘Which is another way of saying that you don't know,' I said.

Maguire smiled patiently at me. ‘I did not say it was unanswerable. I said it would take time, and indeed it did.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘You think I am the same man you spoke to this morning on the phone?'

‘Aren't you?'

‘Yes and no. This is certainly the same hand that dialled the number and called you.' He wiggled his fingers. ‘I am speaking with the same vocal cords that spoke to you, but this is not the same consciousness.' He tapped his forehead. ‘In my timeline, I have never called you on the phone. Not that I can remember anyway.'

‘But  …  I  …  What?'

‘I have jumped back to this point from a version of the future.'

‘You're from the future?'

He nodded. ‘We don't have time to go into my reasons for being here, but it does mean that I can answer your question about the outcome of the experiment, although I don't hold a great deal of hope you'll fully understand this first time. It takes the world a long time to adjust to the complexities of echo technology. A long time, indeed.'

‘Echo technology?'

‘Don't get too distracted by the technical terms. Think about it this way: there are two predictable consequences of the experiment with the book. In the first, it simply doesn't work. In the second, it does. We call these two possibilities, the originating and the altered versions. In the originating version, I am disappointed by the failure yet intrigued by the inability to affect the future. In the altered version, or the echo, the experiment is a success. The words have miraculously appeared on the page.'

‘Then they should have been there when you opened the book.'

‘Intriguing, isn't it? Imagine you're a bungee jumper leaping off a bridge over a river. At the furthest point of the jump, you dip your hand into the water and pick up a stone from the riverbed. The cord then snaps back and returns you to your jump point with the stone in your hand.'

‘Bungee jumping?'

‘Yes, except that the bridge in this case is your originating point in time, the lake is the past and the stone is whatever you changed when you went back.'

‘There's a bit of difference between taking a stone out of a river and changing the past.'

‘Not as much as you might think. The river's flow is altered, much as the course of events are changed.'

‘But surely you return to a different bridge if you've changed something.'

‘Eddie, don't spend too much time worrying about bridges or rivers. These analogies are never perfect. Echo technology is extremely complicated even when simplified. The important thing is that it is possible to go back to the past and affect the future. But here is the thing that most struggle with: while the bungee rope itself remains intact, each jump has both outcomes. Both the originating and altered versions coexist.'

‘How do you know?'

‘Try repeating the experiment with the book and you soon discover that you have a fifty-fifty success rate, because half the time you'll return to the originating version, not the altered version.'

‘So which is the real one?'

‘
Real
is not a helpful word. Time doesn't distinguish between versions.'

‘You're saying that every time you do this thing with the book, you're making another version of the world.'

‘That's a very neat way of putting it. As I continue with my investigations, I will discover how the jump cord can be broken, once a return is made to the originating version, to destroy the altered version. This prevents all that messing-about-with-the-past business and makes it possible to echo jump back and do whatever you like without worrying about what your actions will do to the future.'

‘But if you'd done that, then the thing with the book wouldn't have worked.'

‘Exactly. I performed these early jumps before I learned how to clean up these versions.'

‘And before it was the law to do so.'

We both turned to see Scarlett standing in the doorway. The curly red hair was gone. In its place was straight blond hair. The green-blue eyes were the same, though.

‘Hi, Eddie,' she said.

‘Scarlett?'

‘Lauren,' said Maguire. ‘I should have guessed.'

‘Lauren?' I said.

‘Hello, David,' she replied. ‘Don't worry about names, Eddie. Please let me handle this – and no heroics this time.'

‘I didn't let him know there was anything to know,' I said.

‘That's right,' said Maguire. ‘Eddie has been acting convincingly ignorant since he arrived, almost like someone who didn't have the faintest idea of what's happening to him. There are protocols about that.'

‘I'm not here to talk procedure,' said Scarlett. ‘I'm here to take you in. It's time, David. The trial is underway.'

‘A trial in which I'm accused of a murder,' he said.

‘Murder?' I said. ‘No. Cornish shoots
him
.'

‘Patrick Cornish is a footnote in all this,' said Maguire. ‘His group of anti-echo activists thought they could change things using the technology they were trying to get rid of.'

‘He's right,' said Scarlett. ‘Cornish has already stood trial for his actions here. This is much more important than that,' said Scarlett. ‘It's time to tidy up.'

‘Tidying up? Is that what they call it these days? What if I prefer it messy like this?' Maguire picked up the gun and pointed it at her.

‘Hey, no!' I exclaimed. ‘Scarlett's protecting you. Tell him you're here to protect him.'

Maguire was looking at her, not me. ‘Is that right, Scarlett? Are you here to protect me?'

‘I'm here to do my job,' she replied.

‘No matter the consequences?' he said.

‘It's the law. You know that. Now, tell me where to find you and let's resolve this.'

Maguire took a side step, keeping the gun levelled at Scarlett. ‘Why did you send your boyfriend echo jumping?' he asked.

‘I'm not her boyfriend,' I said. ‘I mean, I don't think  …  That's not to say  … '

‘He's not important,' replied Scarlett.

I tried to hide my disappointment.

‘He said he was shot,' said Maguire. ‘Don't say you broke protocol to save his life?'

‘Yes. That's what happened.'

Maguire eyed her suspiciously. ‘No, that's not it, is it? There's no sentimentalism here. Oh, I see  …  He's your witness.'

Maguire pointed the gun at me.

‘Don't make matters any worse,' said Scarlett.

‘I'll break this jump cord and end this version anyway,' said Maguire. ‘It makes no difference.'

‘You know that doesn't excuse your actions. It'd be easier for everyone and better for you to come quietly.'

‘Sorry, Lauren,' said Maguire. ‘I need a little more time.'

Maguire pulled the trigger.

The gun was still pointing at me.

No one at the trial showed much interest in Eddie's grandmother but, as far as Liphook was concerned, Ruby Dane had been an important part of that evening at the hospital. She had admired this strong old woman for her resilience, stubbornness and determination. Now Liphook had reached a similar age, she had even more appreciation for her.

Ruby had held it together even when the doctor explained to her the seriousness of her grandson's condition. Liphook had given her several opportunities to change the subject but Ruby didn't mind going over the details.

‘So Eddie was supposed to be tree climbing with his friend, Angus  … ' Liphook checked her notes. ‘Angus Sandling.'

‘Yes, Angus came round to call for him this morning but we both assumed that Eddie must have got mixed up and gone to his house.'

‘And David Maguire  …  You knew that he was living nearby and that he might be Eddie's father. Is that right?' asked Liphook.

‘I honestly assumed he had moved.'

‘Why?'

‘I don't know. I never saw him around.'

‘Had he never tried to make contact with Eddie?'

‘No. I don't think he ever wanted anything to do with the boy. He came round once after Eddie's mother died but that was it. I think he was relieved to be turned away.'

‘So he did try to be a part of the boy's life at one stage?'

‘I wouldn't call it trying. He offered.'

Liphook snapped her notebook shut. ‘Presumably Maguire changed his mind and got in contact with him.'

‘I suppose so.'

‘You said you didn't know the girl Eddie was with. What about the teacher, Mr Cornish? How well did Eddie know him?'

‘He used to give him a lift home sometimes. I think Eddie looked up to him.'

‘Like a father figure?'

‘You're asking all these questions,' said Ruby, ‘and I'm doing my best to answer them, but does any of this stuff make sense to you?'

‘Not yet,' said Liphook.

The silence that followed was broken when the swing doors at the end of the corridor burst open and a gaggle of medics charged in with a boy lying on a stretcher. Both his legs were badly cut. As they passed, Liphook took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of the exposed bones and torn flesh. From the fast-talking medics, she picked out the words ‘suspected concussion', ‘both legs broken', ‘damaged vertebrae' and ‘potential hypothermia'.

They disappeared as quickly as they had arrived and Liphook turned to Ruby, to find that the colour had drained from her face.

‘That was him,' said Ruby.

‘Who?'

‘That was Angus. That was Eddie's best friend. He must have gone climbing without him and fallen.'

Liphook could hear the confusion and fear in Ruby's voice. She wished there was something she could do to help. Something she could do to make sense of it. There was nothing.

I shut my eyes in agony as the bullet tore through my body but the pain vanished as though it had never been there. I staggered back but my head hit something hard. The collision brought new pain. I opened my eyes and found I was no longer in the farmhouse. I was outside, under the bus shelter in the pouring rain. My clothes were wet. I tapped my school bag but my copy of
Frankenstein
had gone. The bus arrived with a splash in the puddle.

‘Ready, Eddie?' began Bill. ‘Then hold on steady —'

‘I'm back here again?' I said.

‘Yep,' said Bill, ‘and if you're wanting the school, you're in luck because that's —'

‘The only place you go,' I interrupted.

I could see Angus wiping away the condensation on the window to see out.

‘Come on, Eddie,' said Bill. ‘I can't wait around all day. We've got places to go.'

‘Not this time,' I said. ‘I need answers.'

I turned and ran. Bill shouted after me but his words were lost amongst the shifting memories in my head, each of which wriggled and writhed whenever I tried to see it clearly. In amongst this storm of confusion, I heard the sentence, ‘
A monotonous yet ever changing scene
.' I knew it was from
Frankenstein
but I had no idea what it meant or why I had remembered it. It felt like a memory someone else had left behind.

I grabbed my bike from the shed and spotted Ruby's silhouette behind the frosted glass of the bathroom window. There was no point talking to her. She had lied to me my whole life.

I rode my bike hard up the hills and allowed it to go so fast down slopes that I almost lost control. I approached Maguire's farmhouse from the lower road, but slowed down as I got nearer. Something was different. There was an old brown car parked outside.

I leaned my bike against a wall and walked to the front door. This time I knocked and quickly stepped to the side just in case, having no desire to be shot at again.

‘One second,' said Maguire. He opened the door and I kicked it hard to get it past the floorboard. It swung open, taking him by surprise, and sent him staggering back into the room. Had the piles of books been there, he would have knocked them over, but they had gone. He glared at me angrily. ‘Eddie? What are you doing here?'

‘Which one are you, then?' I said.

‘Missed the bus again, did you?' he said. ‘Well, come on.' He grabbed a set of keys from a bowl by the door and stepped out, pulling the door shut behind him.

‘I  …  What?'

‘Otherwise you'll be late.'

I followed him to his car. He got in and I was clearly expected to do the same.

‘But  …  You know me?'

‘Sorry, you know I don't really understand your jokes, Eddie. Buckle up.'

I got in and pulled the seatbelt on. Maguire did the same. ‘I thought it was your mother when you knocked. We have a busy day ahead of us.'

‘My  …  my mother?'

‘We're almost ready for human testing, would you believe it? Tomorrow, I think. A few more wrinkles to iron out.'

‘My mother?' I repeated.

‘The rodents have responded quite well so far. I mean, except for the deaths, of course.'

‘You said
my mother
.'

‘Are you all right?' said Maguire. ‘You appear to be stuck in a loop.'

‘In a loop?'

‘You're repeating yourself.'

‘My mother's alive?'

‘Ha! Still in bed, was she? Dead to the world? We were working late last night, I suppose.'

‘If she's alive, I want to go home,' I said. ‘I want to see her.'

‘You're already late for school. It's better if I drop you there, then pick her up on the way back.'

Maguire turned on the radio. A crackly voice was talking about something or other but all I could hear was the buzzing of my brain as I tried to come to terms with what was happening to me. Had I somehow landed in a version of the world in which I had a mother? If so, I needed to see her, but what could I do? Jump out of the car?

For a moment, I considered jumping out of the car.

‘I can't go to school today. I don't feel well,' I said.

‘Interesting.'

‘Yes. I keep going back in time, except things are different each time and now Melody has come back to life and I need to find out what's going on and not spend the day listening to the same lessons for the third time in a row.'

Maguire nodded. ‘That sounds about right.'

‘You believe me?' I said.

‘Sorry, Eddie, I was listening to the radio. Did you hear that? They just said we're heading for the wettest month since records began. Not hard to believe. Seems like it's been raining for weeks.'