Send Simon Savage #1 (21 page)

‘The satellite is passing over Old City again,’ Harry reported.

‘Have we got vision?’ Professor McPhee asked.

‘Night’s falling, sir, we’re on infrared,’ Harry replied, bringing up the stream from the satellite.

The city plaza and the nearby streets came up on a smaller viewing screen. A series of white, bright patches flared on and off in different locations.

‘What are we seeing?’ McPhee asked.

‘There appear to be a lot of small fires in the central city and some of the nearby housing areas,’ Harry said. ‘And vision a short while ago showed a number of vehicles, and possibly crowds of people, moving through the city. The crowds were growing in size, then breaking into smaller groups, then growing again in size. A bit chaotic.’

‘Some sort of civil unrest?’ Cutler asked.

‘That’s a strong possibility. Vision’s not top quality, sir. And we have no close images.’

McPhee frowned. ‘What about Simon and Danice?’

Harry switched the vision to two red dots. ‘They’ve moved a considerable distance since we last tracked them. They’ve moved over twenty kilometres in a fairly short time.’

‘Didn’t we assume they were on foot last time, going through pretty rough country?’ Cutler said.

‘Yes, sir. My guess is they’ve now taken some form of transport.’

‘A high-speed vehicle?’

‘Impossible to say,’ Harry replied. ‘This vision was recorded two minutes ago, to the south of the city. We can see the two red dots. But we can’t see by what means they got there.’

‘So for some reason, they’ve not returned to the TPS pick-up point out in the Big Forest,’ McPhee said.

‘Perhaps they’re trying to complete their mission,’ Cutler suggested.

‘That could be so,’ McPhee replied. ‘But it’s time to extract them. Their inexperience might be showing here. They’ve clearly not stuck to the mission plan, for whatever reason. They’ve also overstayed their allotted time, and it’s far too costly for us to keep this operation going indefinitely. I want personnel sent to provide on-ground assistance. Are our other temponauts kitted up?’

‘Yes, they’re ready,’ Cutler said.

‘Activate a timeline to the south of the city. To the exact time and last recorded location for Simon and Danice.’ McPhee concentrated on the screen. ‘Full power and Priority Red!’

Simon flapped a hand in front of his nose. ‘
Whew!
This smoke! Are all these blazing torches and the gold-toothed skulls for real? It looks like the set for a B-grade movie.’

‘I’ve been here before,’ Danice said as they were led through the front entrance of a cave by a pair of guards. ‘This is the Chieftain’s place.’

‘So, we made it!’ Simon whispered. ‘We finally get to meet this dude.’

A look of distaste passed over Danice’s face. ‘Don’t get too carried away,’ she said. ‘Everyone I know hates him.’

A man’s voice came from deep in the shadows of the cave. ‘Come!’ he said.

‘Move forward! Bow to the Chieftain!’ a guard said, pushing Simon and Danice from behind.

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Simon saw a white-robed figure sitting on a red granite throne.

O’Bray appeared at their side and glared at them. ‘Show respect before the Chieftain,’ he said.

Danice lowered her head respectfully, but Simon found it hard to take the situation seriously. The cave, the skulls and the eerie lighting seemed like a theatrical show. Perhaps it scared the local people into submission, but to Simon it seemed silly.

He squinted through the clouds of oily smoke, trying to get a better look at the Chieftain. But the hood of the Chieftain’s robe covered his face, leaving only a firm jaw and lips visible beneath. Tattoos decorated his bare arms up to the elbow.

‘Danice, I’m surprised to see you with this stranger,’ the Chieftain said. ‘And in such an elaborate outfit. It’s a time-travel suit, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it is, Chieftain,’ Danice mumbled nervously.

‘Someone’s been lying to me!’ the Chieftain said. ‘The last I heard was that you had gone missing. Yet here you are! Tell me what really happened.’

Danice glanced at Simon and he shook his head. She remained silent.

‘Your silence confirms my suspicions,’ the Chieftain said. He raised a hand. ‘O’Bray, leave the boy here with me. Take Danice away. But I don’t want her hurt or mistreated, understand?’

‘Yes, boss, I understand.’

O’Bray took Danice’s arm and led her off to an inner room.

Simon squinted into the gloom where the Chieftain sat.

‘Some of your conversations have been reported to me,’ the Chieftain said. ‘You seem to be curious about my men. I will admit, I made them dress like civilians, just in case anyone saw them while they were out there picking you up. I like to keep my activities as covert as possible. Normally, my guards wear camouflage uniforms.’

Simon nodded and waited for the Chieftain to go on. A small smile seemed to hover on the man’s lips.

‘So,’ the Chieftain said at last. ‘I didn’t think I’d be found so soon.’

‘Sorry, but I didn’t find you,’ Simon replied. ‘You … um … found us. And brought us here.’

‘Why did they send you?’

‘Who do you mean?’

‘The Time Bureau,’ the Chieftain said. ‘I suspected they’d get onto my trail eventually.’ He paused again. ‘But I didn’t think they’d send you, of all people.’

Simon didn’t know what to think. How much did this guy know, he wondered. Was this some kind of guessing game?

The Chieftain didn’t wait for an answer. He rose from the throne and came slowly down the steps to the floor of the cave until he was in the full glare of the torchlight. Then he reached up and drew back his hood to reveal long, white hair and a tanned, wrinkled face.

Simon found himself staring into bright blue eyes that twinkled with humour. He felt a lump in his chest, but didn’t know why.

‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘What is this place all about?’

‘I collect gold-plated skulls,’ the Chieftain grinned. ‘
You’ve got to have a hobby.
’

Simon gulped. That familiar phrase spoken with that familiar accent. He stared open-mouthed at this old man with his heavily lined face and white hair. ‘Dad! Is … is that you?’

‘Hi, Simon! Welcome to my lair.’

Hale Savage reached out both his hands. Simon ran forward and let his father’s arms encircle him.

‘Dad!’ He felt like a small child again. ‘Dad!’

‘Good to see you, son,’ Hale said. ‘You don’t know how good it is to see you.’

29

H
alf an hour later, Simon and his father were in a comfortable living room, several chambers away from the theatrical setting of the Chieftain’s cave. Simon was sitting on a leather couch by an open fire. There were bookshelves on both sides of the fireplace. On the opposite wall were more shelves, and dozens of thin, corked glass jars full of multicoloured seeds.

We could be at home in Bondi, Simon thought, except that he was with a man greatly changed in both appearance and manner—tattooed and white-haired. And older and frailer from the stresses of time travel.

‘I don’t get it, Dad,’ Simon said. ‘Why did you leave us?’

A flicker of guilt passed over his father’s face. ‘You’ve no idea how sorry I was to leave you behind.’

‘Sorry!’ Simon replied. ‘That’s pathetic. Mum was devastated. She didn’t know what to do with herself. Lil couldn’t eat or sleep … and … do you know how bad it is to … to lose someone?’ Simon paused. ‘We missed you.’

‘It wasn’t a one-way street,’ Hale said. ‘I missed you, too.’

‘But you tricked us. We thought you were dead! How could you do that?’

‘I had to do it.’ For a second, there was a hint of fear in Hale’s eyes. ‘For various reasons I hope you’ll understand one day. I had to get away. From … from many things.’

‘Then why didn’t you take us with you?’ Simon asked.

‘I had planned to do that.’ Hale picked up an iron poker, leaned forward and stirred a pile of glowing coals in the fireplace. ‘But things happened too quickly. Things that I didn’t like.’

‘Things that were more important than us?’

‘Yes,’ Hale replied. ‘At the time they were. Yes.’

Simon looked at his father with new eyes. Hale had dropped the whole Chieftain act and left it behind in the other room. But what sort of man had he become? Who was he really?

‘While we’re asking questions, I have one or two for you,’ Hale said, breaking another coal with the poker. ‘There are a few things I need to know.’

Simon shrugged. ‘Well, you’re not the only one who wants answers.’

‘How did they recruit you … the Time Bureau?’

Simon considered his answer for a few moments.

‘Divided loyalties?’ Hale asked.

‘Maybe.’

‘Okay, here’s something
you
need to know. I know more about that Time Bureau than anyone alive. Ask me anything about its operations, and I’ll be able to tell you. So, how did they recruit you?’

‘They came to the house,’ Simon said. ‘They did a genetic scanning with some gadget. Then they offered me a place at Mayfield Manor.’

‘Ah, yes, genetic time searches, as the professor calls them. Finding young people ideal for time travel. Well,
that
wasn’t my idea. The professor was always keen to get new recruits.’ He turned sadly from the fire to look at Simon. ‘Obviously, it’s working.’

‘There’s a few of us temponauts now.’

‘Ah, yes. And am I right in guessing that Danice is one of them? That was a clever trick by the Bureau. Abducting her so that she could bring you to me.’

‘I suppose,’ Simon said, not sure how to interpret his father’s tone.

‘Don’t worry, son, I’m not angry with you! But tell me, did they test Lil?’

‘I guess so. But she’s at some smart school now, so I figure they didn’t want to recruit her. Anyway, you know she’s only just turned eleven.’

Simon saw a glimmer of relief pass over his father’s face, but he quickly controlled it and stared back into the flames. ‘Here is a more important question: before they sent you here, did they say anything in particular about me?’

‘Not much.’

‘Well?’

‘Just that you’d invented time travel. That you’d been working under a lot of pressure,’ Simon said. ‘I think they were worried that you had run off with a lot of research, or a lot of knowledge you hadn’t shared about time travel.’

Hale smiled. ‘How right they were about that!’

Simon jumped up. ‘Dad, come back with me! You can live with Mum and Lil in Bristol.’

‘Son, I’m not going back. I’m …’ Hale stopped himself. ‘Well, if I go anywhere, I’ll choose where I go for myself.’

‘What about Mum? And Lil and me!’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I don’t get it!’ Simon protested. ‘That’s what I don’t understand. The fake suicide, and all that!’

‘You really want to hear?’ Hale asked. ‘If you do, sit down and I’ll tell you.’

Simon sank back into the soft leather.

Hale turned away from the fire and stood with his back to the hearth. ‘Simon, I spent the best part of ten years developing time travel. I came across the basic principles when I was working on something else: black holes and time loops. I’ll cut a very long story short.’ Hale started pacing the floor. ‘Basically, within a few years we had a working Time Accelerator. And I had proved that it worked. I thought I should be the one to test it out. I ended up doing more trips than I should have.’ He pushed a lock of long white hair off his forehead. ‘The truth is, my body’s wearing out. As you can see, it’s ageing quickly. I’ve been in and out of the Spin Box too many times. It wrecks you, even when you’re only in your forties.’

Simon nodded. The evidence was in front of him. His father looked closer to seventy.

‘Once we had a Time Accelerator, things started to change in the Bureau. You see, I invented time travel for peaceful purposes.’ Hale’s eyes flicked to the jars of seeds along the wall. ‘I did it for research, to acquire knowledge, to understand the universe. That was my sole aim.’ His tone changed and became harder, sharper. ‘But some people in the military tried to get hold of it, in order to control the system directly. Their aim was to use it as a weapon.’

‘Do you mean Professor McPhee and Captain Cutler?’