Time Riders

CHAPTER 29

2001, New York

‘Why have you brought us here?’ asked Maddy, looking around theentrance hall of the Museum of Natural History. It was crowded mostly, it seemed to her, withJapanese tourists.

‘Because, Madelaine, this building, these exhibits, are what we’re allabout.’ He gestured with his hand at the giant skeletal frame of a brachiosaurus loomingover them and all but filling the grand entrance hall.

‘This is the history that was meant to be. This is thehistory that you — just like the other field teams — are tasked withdefending.’ His eyes drifted down from the giant skull above to rest on them.

‘Madelaine — the analyst. Sal — the observer. Liam — theoperative… and Bob — the support unit. You’re a team now. And everybodyalive today and alive tomorrow is depending on you to keep an eyeon the time. This museum records how history is… and itcannot be allowed to change.’

Foster’s voice carried a little further across the grand hall than perhaps he’dintended, but since no one else here seemed to speak English Maddy thought it probablydidn’t matter too much.

‘So, this afternoon, I want you to explore the museum. To reach out and really feel the history you’re defending. I’ll leave you to makeyour own way around and then we’ll meet back here in the entrance hall at fivesharp.’

They nodded in silence.

‘Then I’m taking you guys out to the best ribs and burger place I know. Acelebration… Think of it as a sort of graduation party.’

Liam found the display of dinosaurs breathtaking and was unable to tear himselfaway from the giant skeletons and the animatronic dioramas. He was soon left alone as thegirls and Bob wandered off to view the other exhibits.

Before he knew it, several hours had passed and he decided to make his way back to theentrance hall to await the others.

He watched the busy area, full of snapping cameras and quietly whispered familyconversations, overexcited children and mewling babies. Not for the first time, he felt a warmglow of gratitude to Foster for plucking him from the bowels of the stricken Titanic, saving him from the worst possible death he couldimagine.

In the last dozen or so days — he’d lost track of how long they’d been here- he realized he was the luckiest person born in the nineteenthcentury for the things he’d been privileged to see almost a hundred years intohis future, and all the amazing things he was yet to see. Hegrinned like a fool, like a child promised every Christmas present he could wish for.

His gaze drifted across to a milling crowd beside the large entrance doors. People seemed tobe hesitating there on their way out. Curious, he crossed the hall.

On a podium, a large leather-bound book lay open beneath the glow of a brass reading lamp.Beside it an old security guard with a ruddy face, topped with thick bushy eyebrows and an oddheart-shaped mole poking out from one of them, stood to attention.

‘Guest book,’ growled the guard, noticing Liam’s curious gaze. ‘Feel free to sign and add a comment if you wish, sir,’ he addedreluctantly. ‘And keep it clean.’

Liam looked down and noticed the scrawled messages of hundreds of visitors, so many differentnames, so many languages.

‘Keep it clean?’

The guard cleared his throat. ‘I know what you damn teenagers are like.’

Liam felt a tap on his shoulder and turned round. It was Maddy.

‘Guest book,’ said Liam.

‘Oh yeah… I know. I came here on a school trip once and left a dirty poem,’she giggled.

The guard scowled disapprovingly, his bushy old eyebrows knotted together, as if he actuallyrecalled the very words she’d written.

‘You still archive them?’ Maddy asked the guard.

‘We do,’ he replied stiffly. ‘We keep every guest book, down in thebasement. We’ve done that since before the beginning of the last century. A hundredyears of comments,’ he said proudly. ‘Not all of them dirtypoems, neither.’

Maddy cringed guiltily. ‘Sorry.’

But the guard was already busy directing a visitor to where the toilets were.

‘Go on, Liam. Why don’t you sign it?’

He looked at her. ‘Uh… will I not change history, or something?’

‘I can’t see how you would.’

He gingerly picked up the pen, attached by a chain to the podium.

Liam O’Connor, 10 September 2001 — I loved the dinosaurs alot.

‘That it?’ asked Maddy.

He shrugged. ‘Don’t want to push me luck now.’

She shook her head and snorted. ‘Ah… there are theothers.’

Liam followed her across the hall, casting one last glance back at the book.

There, I left me mark on history.

If he died tomorrow for whatever reason, at least there’d be a scribbled line on a pageof a book somewhere that showed he’d once existed.

‘Well done,’ said Foster, clinking his glass tankard of beer againstLiam’s, and Maddy’s and Sal’s glasses of Dr Pepper.

Bob observed the ritual with a curious expression on his face, picking up an empty glass andtapping it against another.

‘You all did very well,’ added Foster, before slurping a large frothy mouthful ofice-cold beer. He wiped his lips and, cautiously glancing around at the busy restaurant, helowered his voice. ‘You’ve all seen how it works now. You all understand the partyou have to play in the team?’

Maddy and Sal nodded.

Liam shrugged. ‘But I didn’t actually do very much, Mr Foster.’

‘No… not this time. But you will. The agency uses the Kennedy incident as astandard training mission. It’s a little piece of history that corrects itself. But whenyou go back on a proper mission it’ll be down to you and ofcourse the support unit — ’ he looked across at Bob, studiously examining a steakknife — ‘to make things right.’

‘But how will I know what to do?’

‘You’ll know, Liam. Because you’re a very bright young man, quick on yourfeet.’ Foster placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder. ‘Initiative…that’s what you’ve got. You’re a smart lad. No amount of training can give aperson that.’

‘Uh… thanks.’

‘What do you think, Bob?’

The clone looked up from the steak knife. ‘Mission Operative Liam O’Connoris… good.’

‘There. I think he likes you.’

Liam smiled. ‘Thanks, Bob.’

Foster turned to Maddy and Sal. ‘And you two… you did very well.’

They grinned, both very pleased with themselves.

‘But this exercise is just the beginning.’

A waitress arrived with a tray full of plates. She prepared to deal them out like playingcards. ‘Who’s havin’ the rack of ribs?’

Liam raised a hand. ‘I’m starving,’ he said.

‘The salad?’

Sal raised her hand.

‘The burgers?’

Foster and Maddy nodded.

The waitress looked at Bob, confused. ‘I’m sorry, sir. What did youorder?’

Bob glanced up at her with his piercing grey eyes. ‘I do not eat human food unless itis a necessary mission requirement,’ he explained dryly.

The waitress cocked her head. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh, don’t worry about him,’ said Foster. ‘He’s just notallowed to eat on duty.’

She smiled coyly at Bob, admiring his physique. ‘So… are you, like, some kind ofundercover cop, then?’

Bob turned to Liam. ‘Liam O’Connor, explain the term “cop”,please.’

Liam shrugged and made a face. ‘You’re asking me?’

‘A “cop”,’ explained Foster, ‘is a slang term for alaw-enforcement officer.’

‘I understand.’ Bob nodded slowly and closed his eyes. ‘Iam filing the term for future use.’

The waitress looked from Bob to Foster, bemused.

‘You guys ain’t from around here, are you?’

Maddy finished chewing her first mouthful of burger. ‘Oh, you can forget about them- they’re Canadian.’