Chasing Stars

Chapter 9

It was while I was flicking through my new wardrobe of clothes, looking for something suitable to wear to the pub, that I found Miranda. The com-screen was on, tuned into a lightweight political chat show.

‘Admiral Wolfe believes that Admiral Westland knew that his youngest son planned to return to 2012,’ one of the commentators was saying.

‘If this was true, what does it mean for the Board of Guardians?’

‘If Westland has helped his son break the Temporal Laws, he will be stripped of his title and put on trial for conspiracy. That would lead to an immediate election and almost guarantee that Admiral Wolfe will win the presidency.’

‘What can we expect from Wolfe if he’s elected president of the Board?’

‘For starters, time missions to the past will come to an end. Wolfe has made no secret of the fact that he doesn’t think there is ever a good enough reason to approve a time mission to the past.’

‘That’s bad news for Westland Travel.’

‘Absolutely. Admiral Westland’s fortune comes from building ships capable of travelling through four dimensions. If time travel is eradicated, there will be no demand for his ships.’

‘Is there any chance that Westland and his son are innocent?’

‘Of course. Westland claims his son only broke the Temporal Laws in order to save the life of a girl who had helped the mission and been unjustly eliminated by the mission cleaner.’

‘What sort of sentence is Orion facing if he’s found guilty?’

‘That will come down to the judge. Sentencing guidelines are very broad – he could be punished with as little as a six-month curfew program, or he could be looking at some serious time on the far side of the moon.’

I touched a button to turn off the TV show and accidentally brought up a search engine. There was still almost an hour until Pegasus was due, so I decided to look up Miranda. I’d avoided it – pushing all thoughts of her into the deep, dark corners of my mind – because our separation was still so fresh. Less than a week had passed since I left my own time. But from where I was now, she had lived her life and died.

I had no idea if Facebook still existed, but Ryan had said we all leave a digital footprint – it was how he’d found out what happened to me – so I decided to give it a go. I wasted almost twenty minutes looking for somewhere to type her name. Just before I was about to give up, I stumbled across the voice commands.

‘Search for Miranda Honeychurch,’ I said, then squeezed my eyes closed and made a silent wish that she’d had a good life. I didn’t think I could bear to discover that my sudden departure had ruined things.

There were thousands of results. But the result second from the top of the fourth screen was her. Her photograph was just as I remembered her from 2012, with an icon that said Complete Profile. I touched the icon.

A three-dimensional hologram of Miranda leapt out of the com-screen. It was life-sized. She was dressed in a red dress I recognised. She had bought it just a few months before I left the twenty-first century. Tears sprang to my eyes as I looked at her smiling face.

There were four folders on the screen: biography, photographs, blog and messages. I touched biography.

The hologram shrank back into the screen and a fresh page opened on-screen. It was brief.

Miranda Williams (née Honeychurch) was born in 1980, the younger of two daughters, to Ben Honeychurch, a teacher and Mary Honeychurch, a shop assistant. A bright child, she excelled in school and went on to study Law at Exeter University. Her legal career was brought to an abrupt halt, however, when her elder sister Beatrice died tragically in an automobile accident orphaning Miranda’s niece, Eden. Miranda raised Eden for ten years. Tragedy struck again when, at sixteen, Eden disappeared without a trace. Miranda completed her legal studies as a mature student and went on to become a partner at Williams and Penhallow, where she married Thomas Williams, a senior partner. They were married in 2016 and had two children, Travis (b. 2017) and Eden (b. 2019). Miranda died from pneumonia following a hip operation in 2075, aged ninety-five.

Author: Eden Williams 2075

I made a quick calculation. Eden Williams had been fifty-six when her mother died at the ripe old age of ninety-five. She might even be alive herself. I made another calculation. She would be a hundred and four. Not likely then. But the knowledge that Miranda had had a career and a husband and two children made my heart sing.

I scrolled through the photographs, poring over pictures of her as an old lady, family photos with Thomas and her children. In later shots she was surrounded by little children again, grandchildren presumably. I must have relatives somewhere. I wondered if any of them had worked out that I was related to them. After the trial, I would look them up. Settle into the twenty-second century, as Westland had suggested.

I skipped over the blog and touched the folder that said messages. The page opened to a list of subfolders, each with a name: Eden, Travis, and other names I didn’t recognise. I was about to close the page when one of the folders caught my eye. Eden Anfield. My heart thumping against my ribs, I touched the screen. A window popped open.

Password required. Clue: the name of our feline visitor.

‘Katkin,’ I said to the screen.

The folder opened, revealing a short message.

Dear Eden,

Many years have passed since the day I came home and found you gone. Not a day goes by without me thinking of you. But I believe I know what happened to you and I hope that I’m right. They told me you had drowned in the sea off Perran Towans. I never believed it. In my heart I knew you were still alive somewhere. For many years this was nothing more than a belief. But when Nathaniel Westland invented a way to travel through time, I worked it out. Westland was the name of the boy you were with. He was from the future. You followed him home. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

I’ve had a rich and full life. Although I lost you and Travis, my life has been blessed with a loving husband, two delightful children and five grandchildren.

Ever since Nathaniel Westland invented time travel, I’ve hoped and prayed I will see you again. Now I am sick and I know I don’t have very long left. It is my greatest hope that one day you will find this message and visit me or my children or grandchildren.

Whatever happens, I hope it’s been worth it for you.

With love, for ever,

Miranda x

Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I wished so much that I could travel back and wrap my arms around her. I wanted to tell her everything. To say goodbye properly.

The screen went blank and then the face of the hotel receptionist blinked on my screen. Incoming call. I wiped my face on the back of my sleeve and pressed accept call.

‘You have a visitor, Miss Anfield,’ said the receptionist. ‘Mr Pegasus Ryder.’

‘Let him up please.’

I had become so immersed in reading that I had completely lost track of the time. I grabbed a blue dress out of the wardrobe and quickly shimmied into it. There was just time to apply a flick of eyeliner before he knocked.

‘Nice dress,’ he said, as I opened the door.

‘You too,’ I said, pointing at his sarong. ‘Is that what guys wear in the twenty-second century?’

‘It’s not a dress,’ he said, smiling uncertainly. ‘It’s pretty standard for a night out drinking.’

‘Did Ryan dress like that?’

Peg nodded. ‘Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?’

‘No. It’s just not what I’m used to.’

He cocked his head to one side. ‘Are you OK? You look kind of . . . upset?’

I wiped away a tear. I would not allow myself to cry in front of Peg.

‘Hey, what’s the matter?’ he asked.

I scanned on the com-screen and pulled up Miranda’s profile. He skimmed through her entries.

‘Who is she?’

‘My aunt. The woman who brought me up after my parents died.’

‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘She had a good life. She figured out where you went. That reads like a pretty good ending to me.’

‘It’s a long time ago from where you’re standing. But it’s just days for me.’

Peg nodded silently. ‘I can’t really imagine what it’s like to go through what you’re going through.’

‘I’m just so lonely,’ I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘Everyone I know is dead. Or locked up.’

‘I know it’s not much, but you know me. I’m not dead. Or locked up. Not yet, anyway.’

I looked at him and tried to smile.

‘And tonight you’re gonna meet a few of Ry’s closest friends.’

He helped me with the wig and once again we left the hotel incognito. We drove downtown to a car park close to the water. Although it was early evening, the air was still hot and stuffy.

As we walked across the car park, Peg put an arm around my shoulder. It was a friendly, non-threatening gesture, but I felt my body stiffen. ‘Let me pay for everything tonight,’ he said. ‘If you use your flexi-card, everyone will know who you are.’

The car park opened on to a narrow alleyway with bags of rubbish piled up beside overflowing bins, and posters stapled to telegraph poles and doorways.

‘Short cut,’ said Peg. ‘It will save us five minutes.’

We stopped for a moment by a machine at the end of the alley, so that Peg could top up the credits on his port-com. He slid the port-com into the machine and tapped a code on to the screen. Although the alley was deserted, it was just the sort of place I always avoided, the sort of place you were warned about as a child.

‘Is Lakeborough a safe city?’ I asked.

‘It’s one of the wealthiest cities in the Federation,’ he said. ‘Crime is low. But like any city, there are parts best avoided.’

The credit machine beeped and pushed the port-com back out through its mouth.

‘Let’s go,’ said Peg, thrusting the port-com into his pocket.

With every step that brought me closer to the door of the inn, my heart squeezed harder. I was going to meet Ryan’s friends. I knew nothing about them. Apart from Peg, he’d never told me anything about them. They would all be older than me. What if they didn’t like me? What if one of them was Ryan’s ex, the girl he’d dated before me?

‘Hey, Albert,’ said Peg to the bouncer at the door.

The bouncer nodded at him.

‘They’ll all be out the back,’ said Peg.

Once inside, Peg dropped my arm. In single file we squeezed through the crowded bar. Music – an eerie, hypnotic combination of heavy drums and violins – blared from two huge speakers over by a raised stage. At the back of the bar was a sliding glass door that opened on to a large deck that extended over the lake. All sorts of boats, from small sailing boats to large ferries, floated across the water. Peg looked around, spotting his friends at a table right by the water’s edge.

‘Hey, everyone,’ he said when we reached the table. ‘This is Eden.’

There were three of them: two girls and a boy. The boy and one of the girls were pale-skinned and strawberry blonde. They were obviously brother and sister; later, I found out they were twins. The other girl was olive-skinned with long dark hair. All three of them stared up at me. And then the boy, who had a long thin cigar hanging out of his mouth, stood up to shake my hand.

‘Antoine,’ he said. ‘Delighted to meet you.’

The fair girl stood then and held a pale hand out for me to shake. ‘Isabelle,’ she said. ‘My friends call me Belle.’

The other girl was stunning. She had high, pronounced cheekbones and large, green eyes that reminded me of a cat.

‘Hello, Eden,’ she said, remaining seated. ‘I’m Lyra.’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you all,’ I said stiffly. ‘Thanks for letting me join you tonight.’

‘You can all stop staring at her now,’ said Peg.

He pulled out a chair for me and took the one right next to it.

‘Is beer OK?’ asked Antoine. ‘I ordered a bucket of them. Dad said that was the popular drink back in your day?’

‘Beer is great,’ I said.

Antoine passed me a bottle from a bucket in the centre of the table. I gulped it quickly, glad for something cold. When I looked up, they were all still staring at me.

‘I thought you had red hair,’ said Lyra.

Automatically, I reached up and touched the soft fake hair on my head. ‘It’s a wig,’ I said.

‘We had to disguise her to get away from all those journos outside her hotel,’ Peg explained.

‘How’s Orion?’ asked Antoine. ‘I can’t believe he didn’t get bail.’

‘I don’t really know how he is,’ I said. ‘I haven’t been able to see him since we landed.’

‘Have they set a date for the trial?’ he asked.

‘According to his father, it should be in the next few days.’

There was a pause.

‘How did he get caught?’ asked Lyra. ‘When he said goodbye, he seemed pretty confident he knew how to cover his tracks.’

‘I’m not sure how the cleaner found us,’ I said, reddening.

‘Are the stories true then?’ Lyra asked, arching her eyebrows. ‘Are you and Ry a modern day Romeo and Juliet?’

‘Stop interrogating the girl,’ said Antoine, nudging Lyra.

‘It’s so romantic,’ said Belle. ‘The two of you travelling through time to be together.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Lyra, with a half smile.

‘So what’s life like back in the twenty-first century?’ Antoine asked, a little too loudly. ‘What do people do on a Saturday night? Do they sit around the pianoforte and sing songs?’

I laughed. ‘They go out drinking and dancing and to parties. Saturday night where I’m from looks a lot like this.’

‘Really?’ said Antoine. ‘I thought you all wore corsets and had chaperones.’

Belle smacked Antoine’s arm playfully. ‘That’s the nineteenth century, dumbbell.’

‘I’m disappointed. I imagined that people from your time were different from us.’

For a second I considered telling them about Connor and me playing endless games of chess and Scrabble, but the thought made me so nostalgic that I decided against it.

‘What do you think of Lakeborough?’ asked Antoine.

‘It seems cool. I haven’t seen much yet. Although it was beautiful up in the mountains yesterday.’

‘Which mountains?’ asked Lyra.

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know what they’re called. Peg took me there.’

‘I took her to Twin Falls,’ said Peg.

‘Really, Pegasus?’ said Lyra. ‘You took Orion’s girlfriend to Twin Falls.’

Peg drained his beer and slammed the bottle on the table. ‘Yes. I wanted to take her out of the city, away from the reporters. And Twin Falls is one of Orion’s favourite places.’

‘Sure,’ said Lyra with a smirk. ‘That’s why you took her there.’

‘I love the way you always assume the basest motives in everyone,’ said Peg. He stood up abruptly, tipping his chair back towards the floor. He pushed it up with the toe of his shoe. ‘Looks like we’re getting low on drinks. Beers again?’

He didn’t wait for an answer.

‘I’ll give him a hand,’ said Belle, standing up. ‘I’m not letting him pay for beer.’

A shadow fell across my face as someone approached the table from behind me. He leant over and plucked the last bottle of beer from the bucket.

‘Beer, huh? So, what’s the occasion?’

I turned and saw a tall boy with light blonde hair. He untwisted the top with his hand, tilted his head back and poured half the bottle into his mouth.

‘Hey, Clarence,’ said Antoine.

Clarence nodded at Antoine. ‘You gonna dance with me tonight, Lyra?’

‘I don’t dance any more.’

‘I would hold you.’ He turned to me. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met.’ He passed the beer to his left hand and held out his right hand to shake.

I accepted. He shook my hand vigorously and then sat in Peg’s chair. He leant close. ‘Clarence Wolfe. And you are?’

I hesitated. Was he a friend? He seemed to know the others, though Lyra hadn’t been especially warm to him. ‘Eden Anfield.’

He smiled. ‘Do I detect an accent?’

‘British.’

‘Are you vacationing in Lakeborough?’

‘Something like that.’

His eyes lit up. ‘You’re that Eden. I didn’t recognise you. Your hair is different.’

‘It’s a wig,’ said Lyra in a bored voice. ‘Now you’ve had a look at her, why don’t you go bother someone else?’

Clarence stood up. ‘Come on, Eden, it’s time for you to learn how to dance twenty-second century style.’

‘I don’t think so,’ I said. Back home I liked dancing, but the way people here were dancing was very different. ‘It looks complicated.’

‘I’m a great teacher.’ He stood up and held out a hand to me. ‘What do you say? Just one dance?’

Lyra rolled her eyes and Antoine looked away. Unsure whether I was about to commit a major faux pas or whether it would be rude to say no, I stood up and let Clarence lead me to the dance floor.

‘Are you friends with them?’ I asked.

‘I’m in the same class as your friend, Antoine. Orion too before he left.’

‘And Lyra?’

‘We used to date. I think she still has a thing for me.’

‘I kind of got the opposite impression. Anything else I should know?’

We were on the edge of the dance floor. I could feel the music vibrating through the wooden floor.

Clarence placed a hand on each of my shoulders. ‘You are about to dance with the most eligible bachelor in the room.’

‘Oh, really?’ I said, raising my eyebrows.

‘Really,’ he said. ‘Not only am I handsome and rich, but I’m also a fantastic dancer.’

‘You’re modest as well, huh?’

‘I’ve never seen the point of false modesty.’

‘Is that everything?’

‘Don’t believe everything you hear.’

Clarence pulled me towards him and then placed one of his hands around my waist. ‘Just copy my moves,’ he said. ‘It’s easy.’

I tried to find the rhythm of the music, but the beat was odd. I looked around me at the other dancers, but everyone was wrapped up in their own moves; no one took any notice of me. Thank God for the wig.

‘How am I doing?’ I asked.

‘Not bad for a beginner.’

I followed Antoine’s lead and, for a few minutes, I forgot about Ryan and the reporters and being in the wrong time. I forgot about everything but the heat and the rhythm and the deep thrum of the bass that made the dance floor gently vibrate.

After three songs, I could feel my scalp sweating and itching under my wig.

‘I think I’m ready for another beer,’ I said. ‘Or a glass of water.’

Clarence escorted me back to the table. The others were chatting and laughing and all of the tension from earlier had gone. I took a cold, sweating beer bottle from the bucket and held it to my forehead.

‘How about it, Lyra?’ asked Clarence. ‘Will you dance with me?’

Lyra narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t think so.’

No one spoke for a second. Lyra and Clarence just held each other’s gaze, and I was reminded that these people had a shared history that I was not a part of.

‘Well,’ said Clarence after a few seconds. ‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Eden.’ He shook my hand again and left.

Antoine took a long, slender case from his jacket pocket and opened it. Inside were several more of the thin cigars he’d been smoking when we arrived. He offered them around the table. Lyra took one and leant in close to Antoine as he flicked open his lighter and held the flame to the tip. I watched, wondering if they were together.

‘You gonna dance with me now?’ Peg asked.

I leant close and whispered in his ear. ‘I just danced with Lakeborough’s most eligible bachelor. That’s a hard act to follow.’

‘I think I’ll cope,’ said Peg, taking my hand.

We walked on to the dance floor just as the music changed to a slow number. Peg held my waist and shoulder loosely, not too close, and we swayed gently to the music.

‘Clarence isn’t wrong when he describes himself as Lakeborough’s most eligible bachelor,’ said Peg. ‘There are a lot of girls in this room who’d like to dance with him tonight.’

‘But not Lyra?’

‘Clarence and Lyra have a complicated relationship.’

‘Are you going to elaborate on that?’

Peg shook his head. ‘Not tonight.’

‘What about you?’ I said. ‘Are you single?’

‘Between work and school, I don’t have time for a relationship.’

‘Got your eye on anyone?’

He laughed, but there was something about his look that suggested I’d embarrassed him. ‘No one.’

We left the bar just after midnight. As we shoved our way through the throngs, Lyra held on tight to Peg and he put his arm around her. It wasn’t until we were outside and we were able to walk more easily that I noticed Lyra had a pronounced limp.

‘The night is young,’ said Antoine. ‘And there’s a party boat just about to sail. How about it?’

‘You guys go,’ I said. ‘I’m pretty tired. I’m going to head home.’

‘I’m beat too. I’ll walk you,’ said Peg.

‘How chivalrous of you,’ said Lyra. Her wide smile didn’t reach her eyes.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Lyra,’ said Peg.

She kissed his cheek, but her eyes were on me. ‘Behave yourself.’

‘Hey, Eden,’ said Belle. ‘Are you coming to New York with us on Sunday?’

I shook my head; it was the first I’d heard about a trip to New York.

‘Come. It’ll be fun.’

‘I should probably stay in the hotel in case there’s any news about the trial.’

‘Nothing will happen over the weekend,’ said Belle. ‘And Monday is a public holiday. Come to New York with us.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I’ll talk her into it,’ said Peg.

‘If we don’t get a move on, that ship is going to sail without us,’ said Antoine. ‘See you both tomorrow.’

Peg put an arm around my shoulders and we turned away from the others. The next thing I knew I was blinded by a bright light. And then we were surrounded. Lights flashed in my face and reporters thrust microphones under my chin. I turned back to see if Antoine and the others could see what was going on, but my view was blocked by yet more photographers, their oversize cameras blocking my view.

‘Lovely wig, baby,’ said one of the reporters. ‘Where did you buy it?’

‘Who’s your escort?’ asked another.

‘Can you give us a smile?’

‘Have you seen Orion?’

‘Are you enjoying the twenty-second century?’

‘Will you be testifying at Orion’s trial?’

‘Is it true that you’re pregnant?’

I froze to the spot. We were surrounded.

‘No comment,’ said Peg.

‘Who are you? Her bodyguard?’ jeered one of the younger male reporters.

‘This is not the time or place for an interview,’ said Peg calmly. ‘We’d both appreciate it if you’d let us go home.’

‘Where is home?’ asked a female reporter.

‘Are you staying with her at the Lakeview Hotel?’

‘Excuse me,’ said Peg to the male reporter in front of us.

We stepped forward, but the man didn’t step aside. I was beginning to panic. Cameras continued to flash in my face. Fear began to coil around me.

‘Would you mind stepping aside to let us pass?’ said Peg.

‘Just answer a couple of questions,’ said the man. He pushed his microphone in front of Peg’s face.

Peg swiped at the microphone, sending it spinning to one side.

‘Hey!’ shouted the reporter.

Peg swung for him. One second the man was hurling abuse at Peg, the next he was lying on the ground, sprawled across his microphone.

‘Let’s go!’ said Peg. He grabbed my hand and we ran.

I glanced back. Some of them were running after us.

‘Don’t look back!’ yelled Peg.

We raced around the corner and along another street. Peg had a tight hold of my hand and was dragging me behind him. He turned abruptly up a narrow alley. The alley divided into two. We took the left lane and slowed to a walk. There were takeaways and bars, tattoo parlours, girls heavily made-up and lounging against door frames. Peg walked up to one of the girls, a heavily tattooed girl in a black corset and not much else.

‘Hey, Millie. Is there a game on?’

She nodded. ‘Who’s your friend, Peg?’

‘She’s my cousin.’

‘Course she is.’

Peg and I slipped through the doorway and into a small, dark room at the back of the house. There were five round tables, six people crowded around each, all playing cards. A makeshift bar was set up against one wall.

The girl behind the bar, who, like the one out front, was wearing little more than her tattoos, winked at Peg. ‘Your usual?’

‘Yeah. And a beer for my cousin, Jennie.’

‘Hi, cousin Jennie,’ said the girl, pushing a bottle of beer across the bar to me. She turned back to Peg. ‘You joining a table? We have stud, Texas Hold ’Em and blackjack.’

‘Not tonight. Jennie and I just fancied a nightcap before heading home.’

‘Suit yourself.’

I followed Peg through a door and into another dimly lit room, this one with couches and candles spread around. The room was empty apart from a couple sitting on a couch in the darkest corner of the room, their hands on each other’s bodies. Peg chose a couch as far from the other couple as possible and sat down.

‘So, do you come here often?’ I asked as I sat next to him.

He smirked. ‘Are you trying to pick me up? Because, you should know, that line’s really old.’

I shoved him with my elbow. ‘Thanks for the tip.’

Peg took a sip of his beer. ‘I thought this would be a good place to hide for a while until those parasites outside get bored and go home.’

‘I’m glad you brought me here. I want to see the real twenty-second century, not just the tourist spots.’ I looked around and caught the eye of the girl on the other couch. She smiled at me.

‘You wanna join us?’ she asked.

I shook my head and looked away quickly. ‘Did – does – Ryan ever come here?’

‘Sure. He’s been here a few times.’

My chest constricted. There was so much about Ryan’s life in the twenty-second century I didn’t know.

Peg looked at me. ‘We didn’t come here for the girls. We came for the cards.’

‘Oh.’

‘You didn’t think . . . ?’

‘I didn’t know what to think.’

‘Great.’ Peg laughed to himself. ‘I’ve clearly made a good impression so far.’

I tried to shrug off my embarrassment. ‘I thought things might be different now. In this time.’

‘We only ever came here to play cards. We needed money to buy parts for the ship Ryan used to get back to you, and playing poker against a table of drunk old men was a good way to do it.’ Peg turned to face me, and held his bottle up in the air. ‘Cheers. Here’s to evading those scumbags.’

I clinked my bottle against his. ‘How do you think they worked out it was me?’

Peg shrugged. ‘Dunno. I hoped the wig would be enough. But your face has been all over the com-screens for the last week, so I suppose we shouldn’t have been surprised.’

‘What’s the story with Lyra? She didn’t seem to like me very much.’

‘Lyra was born sarcastic and she’s been ten times worse since she injured her leg.’

‘What happened?’

‘She was in a car accident. Her leg got crushed.’

‘Clarence said he used to date her. Do you think it bothered her that I danced with him?’

Peg took a long swig from his bottle. ‘They went on a couple of dates. That’s all. The only thing that bothers Lyra is not being the centre of attention. And right now, you’re the centre of attention.’

‘I don’t want to be. I wish everyone would leave me alone. Maybe I should just hold a press conference and be done with it.’

‘Maybe you should.’

‘I’m just scared I’ll say the wrong thing and make things worse for Ryan.’ I sighed. ‘What if the court finds him guilty? I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens.’

Peg put his hand on my arm. ‘Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’

I liked the way he said we. I had finally found a friend – an ally – in this new world.

‘Do you think the trial will be fair?’

‘I guess. Ryan’s father – Admiral Westland – is one of the best people I know, but he won’t be allowed to judge the case. Admiral Shastri and Admiral Hwa are generally in favour of space-time exploration. If either of them is the judge, I think he’ll get a fair trial. Admiral Philp is a wild card. And Admiral Wolfe opposes most space-time explor­ation. He is likely to be the harshest judge of Orion.’

‘Let’s hope Ryan doesn’t get Wolfe then,’ I said.

‘The thing is, Eden, I think Admiral Wolfe is behind Orion’s capture. I think it’s personal.’

I looked at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s no secret that Westland and Wolfe hate each other. Wolfe has these mining colonies on the moon. He uses prisoners to work in the mines. Westland wants to put a stop to that, claims it is cruel and unusual punishment.’

‘What’s that got to do with Ryan?’

‘Not sure. But if anyone was in a position to travel back through time without being detected, it was Orion. The ship he took had been marked for scrap. I work in the shipyard, so I altered the records to make it look like it had been sold for parts. He calculated his portal so that the energy signatures would be lost among other portals. It would be hard to find Ry if you weren’t looking for him.’

I stifled a yawn.

‘It’s just a hunch,’ he said. ‘Let’s get you home.’

‘They’ll probably be there, at the hotel entrance,’ I said.

Peg put his bottle on the table. ‘Why don’t you stay at my place tonight?’

‘I don’t want to impose,’ I said, shaking my head.

‘You wouldn’t be imposing. In fact, you’d be doing me a favour; my place is much closer than the hotel.’

‘Are you sure?’

Peg stood up and held out a hand. ‘Come on.’

Peg’s flat was only a two-minute walk away from the gambling den where we’d hidden. It was above a noodle bar on another back alley. The noodle bar was still open; steam hissed and fat sizzled and I began to feel hungry.

‘Are those noodles any good?’ I asked.

‘If you like greasy.’

‘I like greasy just fine.’

Peg ordered us each vegetable dim sum with noodles and miso broth that came in plastic trays with chopsticks. I inhaled the smell of onions and grease and my stomach rumbled. The food at the Lakeview came in small, perfectly healthy portions. I needed this, especially after the three bottles of beer I’d drunk tonight.

‘How come you have your own place?’ I asked as Peg unlocked the front door.

‘My dad and his new wife moved to Titan right at the beginning of summer. I had the choice of moving there with them or staying here. I chose to stay.’

I followed him up the stairs and inside. It was surprisingly large for a flat in a back alley. The living room stretched across the full width of the building, with views out over the lake. There were two couches, a large com-screen and a bookshelf. Against one wall was a display case filled with certificates, medals and trophies. I wandered over to take a look. Every one had Peg’s name on it. Maths champion 2119. Debating Society winner 2120. Navigation 1st Place 2122.

‘These are all yours?’ I said.

He shrugged and ran one hand through his dark hair. ‘This is my dad’s place. He insisted on displaying them all.’

‘You must be really smart.’

He shrugged again and went to make up the bed in the spare room. I wandered over to the window and looked out across the lake. A dozen pleasure boats were sailing across the darkening water, their lights ablaze. I wished I was on one of them, drinking and dancing with no worries in the world other than what classes I would take when school resumed at the end of the summer.

‘The bed’s made up, whenever you want it,’ he said, scanning on the com-screen and flopping on a couch. There were two couches in the living room, both angled towards the com-screen. I took the other one and opened my box of noodles.

The screen opened to the news. The first thing I saw was a large image of me in my blonde wig, Peg’s arm around my shoulders.

‘I’m sorry. I’ll switch channels,’ he said.

‘No, don’t. I want to know what they’re saying.’

‘First night out on the town in the twenty-second century,’ the reporter was saying. I recognised her from our ambush outside the club. ‘Sporting a cute blonde wig and blue dress, Eden was seen drinking and dancing with pals at the super-cool Watering Hole.’

The reporter thrust a microphone under a young woman’s chin. ‘She looked like she was having a really good time,’ said the girl. ‘She danced with two different men that I saw, maybe more.’

‘According to our sources, Eden still hasn’t returned to the hotel where she is staying, which begs the question: just where is she spending the night?’ said the reporter. ‘Back to the studio.’

The newsreader had a serious expression. ‘In other news, protesters spent a third day demonstrating outside Wolfe Energy Headquarters in New Marseilles.’ The screen showed a crowd of several hundred people holding signs that said Rehabilitation not Exploitation and Close the Lunar Prison Now!

One of the protesters began speaking to the camera. ‘The average lifespan of a prisoner on the lunar colony is five years. They work seven days a week in horrendous conditions. There’s no opportunity for these prisoners to be rehabilitated. The lunar colony has nothing to do with justice, and everything to do with cheap labour for Wolfe Energy.’

‘You sure you want to watch this?’ said Peg.

‘Is this Admiral Wolfe’s company they’re talking about?’ I asked, twisting a mound of slippery noodles between my chopsticks.

‘Yup.’

‘On the news this afternoon, one of the legal commentators said Ryan might get sent to the moon.’

Peg looked at me. ‘That won’t happen.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘To start with, his dad will hire a shit-hot lawyer. But if things do go wrong, we’ll find a way to help him. I’m not letting Orion get sent to the moon.’

I tried to smile. But words were cheap. I just wanted the trial to be over and Ryan safely back in my arms.